by Hunt, Jack
From behind the tree she began cutting at the rope.
While she was doing that, the ginger guy came over with a needle and stuck it into wiry boy’s arm. His head rocked back and then he slumped to one side. Ginger guy laughed. “That’s him out for a bit. Hey, Luke. You want some?”
“Nah, I’m sticking with the bottle tonight. Be my guest.”
She continued cutting away until she was nearly through the thick rope. Just as the rope was about to give way, fatso staggered over, his voice slurring. “You and I. Tonight, my lady. I can’t wait to…” He stopped and squinted. “What the…” He yanked on the rope noticing it was loose. Beth tightened her grip on the knife waiting for him to come around. She would launch herself up and jam the knife under his jaw. “Well we can’t have that.” He took his bottle back to the camp and headed back but before he reached the tree, Beth heard Landon.
“Here boy. Here boy! Where’d you go?”
Oh no, she thought.
Right then Landon came jogging into the camp. “Oh hey, you haven’t seen a dog, have you? It’s about yea high!” he said placing his hands near his knees. Ginger was right in the middle of preparing the next hit when he laid it down and got up.
“You better get the hell out of here.”
Landon raised his hands. “Hey man, I’m cool. I’m just passing through. My dog broke away from me,” he said lifting the leash. Fatso took a few steps away from the tree to back up his buddy. “Look, I figured you might have seen it. Dark brown, with a light-colored belly? A German shepherd. Damn dog just keeps getting away from me.”
It suddenly dawned on Beth. If Landon was here, where was Grizzly?
“Are you hard of hearing?”
Ginger guy’s hand slipped around to the small of his back to take out a gun but before he could latch on to it, Landon pulled his handgun and squeezed two rounds at the guy. Both shots struck him in the chest, taking him down.
Fatso reacted fast by grabbing a hatchet from his waistband and pulling back to the side of the tree, completely unaware that Beth was right behind him. She launched upwards, landing on his back like a monkey, and drove the serrated blade into his neck. He screamed in agony and thrashed around, trying to shake her off his back, but the fight didn’t last long. His legs buckled and he collapsed, bleeding out. His death was fast, unlike ginger boy who was clutching his chest and slowly succumbing to his injuries. Beth bounced off fatso and made a beeline for Landon. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”
He ignored her and went over to ginger boy, placed his foot on his chest and fired one more round, this time into his skull putting him out of his misery. “I could say the same thing about you. One hour, you said.”
“It hasn’t been an hour.”
“Yeah, and what part of… I’m just going to see, involved you mudding up your face and risking your life with a damn knife! Seriously, Beth. Where the hell is your gun?”
“Up on the incline.”
“Not exactly much help up there, is it?” he said pulling his own knife and holding it out. “I mean I’ve got a knife but…” Before he could finish, the woman flew past them, snatched the knife out of Landon’s hand and launched herself on top of the wiry man who was in a drug-fueled haze. In a fit of rage she stabbed him multiple times until Landon dragged her off him. “He’s dead. He’s dead!” he repeated, wrapping his arms around her and trying to pry loose his knife. The woman dropped the knife and staggered back. Beth’s gaze darted to the tree where the restraints were loose. After she cut the rope there had only been a few thin strands holding it all in place. She’d broken through that with ease.
Covered in blood, her hands shaking, rain matting her dark hair to her face, the woman dropped to her knees and wept loudly. Her body was shaking as Beth collected a blanket from inside the erected tent and wrapped it around her. The moment she smelled the scent of the men on it, she shrugged it off. “Okay, okay. You’re safe now,” Beth said. She looked over at Landon. “Where’s Grizzly?”
“Tied to a tree just a…”
Beth took off, glaring at him. “Beth. Would you have wanted me to bring him into this? Geesh!” Landon looked at the woman then went over and crouched down in front of her. Her chin was dropped and she was crying hard.
He placed a hand on her and she flinched. “Get off!”
“Okay. All right. Look. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He took a deep breath and looked over at the dead men. “What’s your name?” he asked.
At first she didn’t say anything.
“I’m Landon. That was… Beth.”
Again no response, she just continued to weep. She was shivering hard. He removed his jacket and offered it to her. She looked up at him. When he could tell she wouldn’t protest, he slung it around her shoulders and she pulled it in tight. Landon wiped the blood from his knife in some of the underbrush before placing into its sheath. Beth returned a few minutes later with Grizzly.
“See,” Landon said.
“Yeah, and somebody could have taken him, or a bear could have mauled him.”
“He’s fine, Beth.”
She handed him over to Landon while she went up the incline and collected her rifle and bow. When she returned, Landon was rooting through the belongings of the three men to see if there was anything they could use. There was alcohol still left, matches, a couple of handguns and knives, and a few cans of beans but that was it.
He stuffed them into his backpack.
“Where you from?” Beth asked the woman.
“Gorham, New Hampshire.”
“That’s a long way. You’ve been with them all this time?”
She nodded.
“We’re heading that way,” Landon said. He looked inside the tent and pulled out a sleeping bag. “We’ll need to take this with us,” he said. “For you.”
“I don’t want it,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at it with revulsion. Beth shook her head at him and he threw it back inside the tent.
“She can use mine,” Beth added.
“And what are you gonna use?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said turning back to the woman. “What’s your name?”
“Dakota Larson.”
“That’s a pretty name. I’m Beth.”
“Yeah, he said,” Dakota replied.
Beth looked at Landon who was zipping up his bag. “Well we should get out of this rain. You ready?” Beth helped Dakota to her feet and led her out of the camp and back up the trail. Landon kept his gun out, looking for threats. With everything they’d been through it still didn’t get any easier. For every good person they met there were many more out there looking to take advantage and kill.
It took them an hour of hiking before they made it to Cornwall Bridge. With twenty-three miles already clocked for the day and darkness upon them, they holed up inside an abandoned eighteen-wheeler cab that had come to a standstill near the bridge close to the Housatonic River. Landon climbed into the driver’s side, while Dakota curled up in the back of the cab, and Beth and Grizzly sat in the passenger seat. The cab faced away from the road so any chance of anyone driving by and seeing them inside was slim. Besides, they hadn’t seen anyone since arriving in the small town. Landon rubbed his hands together to stay warm and fished into his bag for something to eat. He offered Dakota some meat that Abigail had provided but she declined. Beth didn’t look interested in talking as she’d already pulled her hood up and leaned back in the seat to get some shut-eye. Grizzly was the only one showing interest. “Here you go, boy,” he said tossing a piece to him. He swallowed it whole and waited for the next piece.
“Dog, I swear you have hollow legs.”
Beth opened one eye and stared at him.
“Hey, look, I’m sorry but I’m not just gonna let you go off by yourself. Not after what happened with Billy.”
“I never saw that coming,” she replied.
“Yeah, well that doesn’t change the fact. Your life matters. Okay.
Just as much as mine or Grizzly’s. I might not have the wilderness skills or prowess you do but I’m not useless and I’m still older than you. That gives me at least twenty years more wisdom,” he said with a smile. She returned it. He looked behind them at the woman. She was already asleep. “She must be tired.”
“I know I am,” Beth said.
“I wish I was,” Landon said. “My legs hurt like hell but I’m wide awake.”
“I told you not to pop those chocolate-covered coffee beans like candy.”
“I know. But they tasted so damn good. I’m gonna miss that town.”
“No, you’ll miss the food.”
“I don’t know, I could have got used to it there,” he said flashing a grin and looking out the window. The cab was parked about two hundred yards away from a place called the Cornwall Package Store. It was a quaint-looking building with light gray siding and dark brown shingles. He squinted but it was hard to read the rest of the sign. He could have sworn it said Beer. Landon cracked open the door to get a better look. A gust of wind blew in and Dakota stirred, looking up from the small mattress in the back of the cab. It had obviously been used by a long-distance truck driver as there were blankets, and pictures of family on the ceiling, and several fiction books tucked between the bedding and the rear.
“What are you doing?” Beth asked.
“I’ll be back in five minutes. Just going to that store.”
“I guess I should go with you, or are you old enough that you don’t need a chaperone?” she said. He knew she was taking a jab at him for saying he didn’t want her wandering off by herself.
“Touché,” he said. “Up to you.”
He hopped out and she said, “Ah, take Grizzly. He probably needs to go for a pee anyway.”
“Come on, boy,” Landon said helping him down. Landon slammed shut the door on the cab and hurried across the street. “Beer. Wine. Spirits.” He smiled. “Oh please let there be something.” He’d taken the bottle of bourbon the men were drinking but taking it out of his bag only seemed to upset Dakota so he’d tossed it a few miles back. Bourbon was never really his thing. He loved a good brew though. A Guinness with a nice head on it.
As he’d come to expect, the door was wide open when he approached the store. Both windows had been smashed and shelves had been dragged outside. There were multiple pieces of broken glass all over the ground. “Well, can’t take you in that way. That’ll cut your paws,” he said. He’d got used to speaking to the dog as if it understood him. Landon went around the rear. He noticed a few cars in the lot off to the right. The doors were open on one of them, windows smashed on the others. He could only begin to imagine the desperation people went through in those early months. He was oblivious to it all on the mountain. All he could hope for was that Sara and Max were with others, good people, locals who would help each other. Any other thought just pained him.
As they often did on the way through towns, Landon searched the vehicles for anything of use. Nothing. Everything was gone. All over the seats were paperwork. The trunk was empty too except for a tire iron. He already had a knife so he left that there. Casting a glance to the rear of the store, he crossed the lot and stopped at the door. Before he entered he banged on the door a couple of times. It had become routine. The last thing he wanted to do was spook someone who was armed. At least this way he could give them a chance to exit or let him know it was occupied.
Landon looked over his shoulder a few times before he gave the door another hard knock. When he got no answer, he took out his flashlight and shone it into the store to check for broken glass. Satisfied that no one was inside, he entered the store unaware of desperate, dirty faces watching him from the tree line.
16
Max had made arrangements to have Eddie stay at his place for the night as he assumed they would be back late from Nautilus Island. The visit lasted no more than an hour. It was utterly pointless. He now wished he hadn’t told Sam about them. Eddie strolled into his room and dived on the blowup mattress Max’s mom had set up for him. He bounced slightly. “Your mom seems pretty cool.”
“She has her moments,” Max said tossing his bag down at the end of his bed.
“Kinda hot too.”
“Dude.”
“What? I’m just saying. She’s got the whole MILF thing going on.” Eddie turned on his side and looked at him. “So I guess that’s it. The end of our adrenaline-fueled career in the militia.”
“I wouldn’t have exactly called it a career,” he said, kicking off his boots and laying back on his bed with his arms folded behind his head. “Man, I’m just pissed the way it went down. I shouldn’t have brought him over.”
“Duh! I could have told you that. Cops and militia are like oil and water. Why didn’t you run it by me first?”
Max gave him an eye roll.
“Look, it’s probably for the best. Though I was looking forward to the round table sessions.”
“The round table?”
“Yeah, you know when one of them reads the Constitution and the rest jerk off to it.” They both burst out laughing. “I’ve never known people to get so worked up and excited about the Constitution. Geesh. My old man was the same.” He stood up and got all theatrical speaking in a deep voice. “We have the right to bear arms. No one is taking away my right. Please. Nobs.” He laughed and sat down cross-legged and pulled out his bag of weed. “Ah, screw them all. Besides, you heard what Sam said, we would have probably just been their errand boys. There’s one thing I’m not. I’m no fucking errand boy.”
He crumbled some of his weed into a rolling paper.
“Eddie, you can’t smoke that in here.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” he said, rolling one out and licking it. He got up and went over to the window and pushed it open. “Here, give me a boost.”
When Max didn’t move fast enough, Eddie groaned and dragged over one of the large computer subwoofer speakers and used that as a step to climb out the window. Max sank his feet into his boots again and followed him out.
“Man, you have one hell of a place here. Great view. If I was you I would change rooms every night.” He lit the joint and took a huge hit on it before passing it to Max. Both of them sat on the roof that jutted out from his window. When he was younger, he and Ellie would climb out there in the day and lay back on towels to get a suntan. His mother would go ballistic, worried they would fall off, so they promised they wouldn’t do it again. They still did. Max blew smoke out the side of his mouth and handed the joint back.
“What if we proved ourselves?” Max asked, turning to him.
Eddie squinted as smoke went in his eye. “What?”
“The only reason they would have us running errands was if they didn’t think they could trust us for anything else. But what if we could prove them wrong?”
He shrugged. “And how would we do that?”
“By becoming a fly in the ointment.”
Eddie gave a confused look. “Okay, look, I know this weed is some heavy shit but… what?”
“Mick Bennington. A local here in town has been put in charge of overseeing the collection of supplies. At the moment, that’s 50 percent of the fish coming out of the bay. According to Sam, most folks in town are pissed and they would give anything to get that back. Now the military gifted them with a Humvee to bring it back to the FEMA camp just south of Bangor. Before I met up with Sam today, I spoke with one of his guys to get more details. Seems that load doesn’t go back until the morning. You up for a joyride?”
Eddie smiled. “You’re thinking of stealing it?”
“Actually I was thinking of sinking the bitch at the bottom of the bay.”
Eddie grinned as he shook the joint in his face. “Kid, I like the way you think. But how?”
“Ah leave that to me.”
“Max!” Sara bellowed. He leaned his head inside. “You better not be smoking weed.”
He looked at Eddie who had the giggles. Max tapped his leg. “Come on
, let’s go.” Eddie tossed what remained of the joint and they climbed back in. Max collected his backpack and shoved inside a hoodie, along with a couple of bandannas. He made sure his Walther was in the bag and then he went out into the hallway and told his mother that he was going to slip out for half an hour and see if he could go and speak with Sam about something.
“Concerning what?” Sara bellowed up.
She never got her answer as he’d already climbed out the window. Both of them made their way down to the edge of the roof and jumped off. As soon as they were on the ground, they collected their bicycles from the shed and set off for town. “You still got your piece?” Max asked.
“Never leave home without it.”
“Good as we might need it.”
They followed the winding road. With no streetlights the island was cloaked in darkness, the only light came from a crescent moon. “Maxy boy, tell me something. If they allow you in the militia. You gonna leave home?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“If you’ll be my errand boy.” He cracked up laughing and Eddie tossed him the bird. It didn’t take long to make it down to the docks. They veered off Water Street and tucked their bikes behind the Maritime Academy Waterfront Campus and climbed up on the roof using a drainpipe. The roof provided a good view of the dock. Max handed Eddie a bandanna and told him to cover the bottom of his face. Eddie was already wearing a hoodie so Max pulled his out and slipped into it. The last thing he wanted was for someone to figure out who he was. Eddie wasn’t a local, so even if they saw him they wouldn’t know who to contact, but him… Most in town knew him because of the inn. Max reached into his bag and brought out a pair of NV binoculars his old man had bought him several birthdays ago. Crouched over and getting close to the lip of the roof, he brought them up and scanned, adjusting the focus. Two times he’d seen the Humvee over the past day, on both occasions it had been down at the dock.
