Nightwalker 6

by Frank Roderus

  The door slammed open, revealing two, then four men.

  “Take him,” Isaac ordered. The first men edged into the room but stopped when Wolfe turned his rifle on them. “Not willing to follow orders, gentlemen?”

  The first man took a deep breath and scowled as he rushed forward. Wolfe pushed the silk-clad woman into him and stepped back. The man stumbled over her and Wolfe cold-cocked him with the butt of the rifle. The second man met the same fate. The last two tussled for a moment before Wolfe put both of them in their places.

  Isaac had used the distraction to leave, taking Jennifer with him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Wolfe ran through the door, face-first into two more men storming down the hallway. He seized each by an arm and threw them down the hall. They hit the ground and rolled, coming quickly back to their feet. Footsteps pounded down the stairway. Wolfe shot the closest man in the leg. The second did not get the message.

  He crouched, growled, and charged. Wolfe shot him in the chest before turning and running after Isaac and Jennifer.

  The front door was open. There were no sounds from inside. Wolfe ran outside and yelled for Buddy, and the wolf-German Shepherd mix came running. “Where’s Jennifer?” Wolfe asked.

  The big dog wagged his tail and sniffed around but didn’t find anything. Wolfe turned around and limped back inside, Buddy headed around the steps and toward the kitchen. The dog started growling.

  Wolfe slowed since his leg had gone from numb to hurting again. The pain made him wince with each step. He found Isaac holding Jennifer behind a center island. Sparkles appeared before Wolfe’s eyes. He expected that was from losing blood, so his time to act was drawing down.

  He brought his rifle up. “Duck,” he said, and Jennifer jerked to the side. Isaac moved the knife back toward her throat. The AR-15 barked, filling the kitchen with the sound of the explosion driving the bullet down the barrel, across the short space of the kitchen, and into Isaac’s breastbone. The man was thrown backward, bounced off the counter, and left a blood smear from the exit wound as he toppled.

  Jennifer ran to Buddy and threw her arms around his neck. Only then did she see Wolfe’s injury.

  “We need to get out of here,” Wolfe mumbled. Jennifer threw his arm over her shoulder as she unbolted the back door. They nearly tumbled down the stairs on their way out. Buddy ran alongside, watching and sniffing. The guard dog had failed his friend once, but would not do so a second time this night.

  They staggered and limped down the road until Wolfe thought he was going to pass out, then headed for the bushes along the side of the road, finding a nook in which to secret themselves. Jennifer took Wolfe’s rifle and stood guard while her adopted father passed out. She kept Buddy close as she shivered against the night and fear.

  Jennifer jerked awake at the sound of voices nearby.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jennifer nudged Wolfe to get him to wake up, all the while kicking herself for falling asleep. Buddy was sound asleep too, laying half on Jennifer and half on Wolfe, keeping them both warm and protecting them from the early morning dew. The night had been too short, and morning had arrived too soon.

  The young girl was torn. She decided that hiding was their only option. Mister Wolfe would not wake up, but his slow and even breathing said he was alive.

  She could not see out. That meant that they could not see in. She listened to see if they were coming her way. Buddy’s ears perked and twisted to hear better. He started to whimper and wanted to get up. She tried to hold him down, but he only got louder, finally barking his dismay.

  A big hand pulled the bushes aside, and Abraham looked at them. Buddy stepped on Wolfe’s leg in his rush to see his friend. Wolfe cried out and his eyes popped open. With the morning sun came pain. He fumbled with the goggles around his neck. Jennifer helped when she saw he was unable to make his fingers work properly.

  “There you are. I hope you are okay,” Abraham said softly, gesturing for Jennifer to come out of hiding. She shook her head. “We cannot help Jim if you stay in there.”

  She sighed heavily and crawled out from behind the bushes. Abraham waved at a man and woman nearby. They worked their way into the opening and carefully lifted Wolfe out. Abraham himself cradled Wolfe’s leg as they carried him to Isaac’s house.

  “NO!” Jennifer cried. She tried to break free of the grip Abraham had with his other hand. She tore at his wrist with her fingernails, fighting to get free. “No!”

  “I know what happened. Isaac was acting without my permission,” he pleaded with the young girl. “You are safe with me.”

  “I am not so sure,” Wolfe mumbled.

  “I will try to prove myself to you. If we wanted to do anything untoward, you could do nothing about it. Please, Mister Wolfe, let me try to redeem myself and the flock in your eyes.”

  Buddy’s tongue flopped out the side of his mouth as he ran along happily beside the group. Jennifer dragged her feet, pulling Abraham backward while he tried to keep up with the couple moving forward. Abraham finally let go so he could focus on not shaking Wolfe’s leg.

  Jennifer ran a few steps away before realizing that no one was going to chase her. Buddy was torn about who to follow. He started to whimper again.

  Hanging her head in surrender, she stumbled along, falling behind as the four people hurried forward. They went into the house, leaving the door open. They turned to the right, heading into the living room. Jennifer did not remember anyone getting killed in that room.

  Maybe it would be okay.

  She walked in with Buddy by her side. The woman had a basin of water and a rag and started washing Wolfe’s wound while Abraham and the other man watched. A glass of water was close to Wolfe’s head. A needle and thread were at hand, ready to stitch the wound closed once it was clean.

  Buddy wedged his head against Abraham’s side, earning an ear-scratch for his troubles. Jennifer moved closer, finally getting a good look at the injured man. He was pale and sweating and he looked gaunt, as though he had lost ten pounds overnight.

  “Did Mister Wolfe do all the damage in here?” Abraham asked, watching Jennifer closely.

  She nodded, not taking her eyes off her adopted father.

  “Isaac has been punished for his actions, as you well know. I apologize that it happened. I had no idea what he was planning. I should have been more aware.”

  Jennifer glared at the man.

  “I would be angry, too,” he agreed. “Let me get you something to eat.”

  He gestured for her to follow, but she vigorously shook her head, eyes darting toward the kitchen.

  “Oh, that! It has been cleaned up already, but I understand. You still do not want to go. I will get you something to eat. And for Mister Wolfe, too.”

  Abraham was gone for five minutes. When he returned, he had a plate of cut-up fruit, hard-boiled eggs, strips of white meat that looked like chicken, and the ultimate delight, a cinnamon sticky bun.

  Jennifer was tentative at first but dug into everything. She tried to leave the bun, but could not resist. After her first bite, she ate until it was all gone. That was when Wolfe opened his eyes and rolled his head, trying to orient himself.

  “You are in the living room of my former number two.”

  “Am I your prisoner?”

  Abraham laughed. “Oh, heavens, no. You are free to go whenever you are able to walk.”

  “Now sounds good.” Wolfe forced himself to sit up, suffering through a wave of nausea with closed eyes before trying to see again.

  Wolfe stood on unsteady feet and took one step. His injured leg buckled. Abraham caught him and helped him back to the couch.

  “Maybe not now, but soon.”

  “Whenever your body tells you it’s ready, Mister Wolfe. I have to apologize for the activities of my number two.” Abraham took a knee before the couch to look up at Wolfe.

  “I have never seen a leader who did not know what his people were doing. You are too hands-on. F
orgive me if I do not believe you.”

  “There is nothing to forgive, Mister Wolfe. I would not believe me, either.” Abraham picked up the plate from where he had set it aside. “Please eat something, and here’s water, too. You need it to get your strength back so you can be on your way.”

  Wolfe agreed with the man and ate everything that remained, despite his stomach’s protests. He drank one glass of water. The woman who had cleansed the wound refilled it. Wolfe drank that and a third before he stopped. They laid him down on the couch and covered him with a blanket, and he fell sound asleep.

  “What do we do now?” Jennifer asked.

  “Where is Mister Walton?” Abraham asked.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jennifer crossed her arms and stared at the floor.

  “No matter. If he is hungry, there is room at our table for him. He seemed like a down-to-earth guy.” Abraham studied the girl before tipping her chin up so she would look at him. “This is Evie and Pierre. They are here to nurse Mister Wolfe back to health. If you need anything at all, you have only to ask. The faithful need to be tended to, now more than ever. I need to redeem myself in their eyes, too. There was a great deal of gunfire here last night. They are not used to that. I am not used to that, and it is something we need to pray about as we return to our peaceful ways.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the young girl, his eyes glistening as he frowned.

  Jennifer sat on the floor and leaned against the couch.

  “Your dad will be just fine,” Pierre said. “He only needs rest. Do you play chess?”

  “I do,” Jennifer replied.

  A board materialized in Evie’s hands and she set it up on the coffee table. Soon they were embroiled in a game, then Jennifer started nodding off. They brought her a blanket and a pillow. She laid on the floor next to the couch. Buddy snuggled in next to her, and they both fell fast asleep.

  They slept on and off for the rest of the day, not seeing anyone except Evie and Pierre. Anything they wanted—water, food, blankets—was quickly provided. They even acquired a new pair of jeans to replace the ones torn by the bullet and caked with blood.

  The second morning after Isaac’s departure from the world of the living, Wolfe was finally able to stand without assistance. He walked with a limp to avoid stretching the stitches.

  Evie and Pierre said it was a miracle. Abraham arrived to check on Wolfe’s progress and was stunned.

  He considered it nothing less than divine intervention. Wolfe knew it was because of whatever had happened to him in that mine immediately after the bombs fell. Two years he had waited for the radiation to lessen, and when he came out, he was a different man.

  Stronger, and his hair was mostly white, the last bits of brown clinging to the tips. His eyes shielded by the welding goggles to keep the sun from causing him extreme pain.

  Maybe it was a miracle, but Wolfe did not feel special. He was a man trying to get home. People counted on him. Jennifer. The downtrodden in the communities through which he passed.

  Just a man.

  “Are you still going to leave us?” Abraham asked.

  “Yes.” Jim Wolfe did not mince words.

  With Jennifer and Buddy by his side, they started toward the door. Outside, Walton waited with the cart.

  “Did they get you, too?” Wolfe asked.

  “No.” The big man smiled. “I came in on my own. I had to find out what happened to you. Seems like you caused quite a ruckus.”

  Wolfe limped down the stairs, leaning heavily on the rail. His bandage started to turn red from the freshly leaking wound.

  “Maybe you should rest up a bit longer,” Walton advised. “There are no more men with clubs if you were wondering. That was something Abraham did away with as soon as he found out what Isaac had been doing.”

  “Which was?”

  “Power, Mister Wolfe,” Abraham said from the porch. “Isaac was using his position to dominate the faithful. Plus, he was using his position to exploit the vulnerable, and by that, I mean women.”

  Wolfe was not happy. He pulled Jennifer close to him. Buddy ran up and down the steps. Abraham produced an old tennis ball and threw it. The big dog was off like a shot.

  “Jennifer is safe, as well as everyone else. I have a lot of work to do to re-earn the confidence of the Sacred Survivors.”

  “I thought you already had the power,” Wolfe countered.

  “I do, but I need to re-earn their trust and respect. I lost that, in my own mind, by having a man like Isaac so close.” Buddy returned with the ball but would not give it back. He kept chewing while Abraham grabbed for it. Jennifer tried to tackle Buddy, but it didn’t work. She ended up in the grass, and the ball got worked over until it was nothing but shredded rubber and felt. Buddy looked for the next ball Abraham would throw.

  “I only had that one,” he pleaded. Buddy did not understand. He settled for a knotted rag instead, thrown as far as Abraham could.

  Walton left the cart to help support Wolfe.

  “You probably should not go anywhere until you stop leaking.” Walton could see his reflection in Wolfe’s welding goggles.

  “I think you might be right.” Wolfe turned to Abraham. “I would like to ask for your hospitality for a few more days.”

  That was not easy for Wolfe. He was not convinced Abraham had known nothing of his number two’s misuse of power. Staying a few more days would help clear up questions that Wolfe had about the faithful. Who would prevent it from happening again?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Would you just climb in?” Walton held out his arm for Wolfe to grab. The cart was empty, its previous contents locked in a shed on the property of the former number two.

  “I do not want to go.”

  “Take it like a man and get in.” Walton looked impatient. Jennifer started to giggle. “They are going to give you some kind of award.”

  “I have not been to church in a while. What about lightning?” He thought back to his time with the settlers, when he thought he was with Lurleen but was not.

  “You were in church a few days ago. In!”

  Wolfe was torn between doing what he wanted and doing what others wanted. He reluctantly threw his injured leg over the edge before taking Walton’s hand to get the rest of his body inside. Jennifer skipped along beside the cart as Walton grunted and pushed.

  “You have been eating far too well,” Walton grumbled.

  Wolfe looked at himself. He had no extra bodyfat, being on the lean side if anything. “Maybe you are out of shape,” Wolfe parried before turning to look ahead. The former Easter Seals building was not far, maybe two blocks. They took their time getting there. The faithful streamed past, nodding respectfully before continuing.

  “They have a whole new attitude, don’t they?” Walton asked.

  “Seems like it,” Wolfe agreed. He watched them more closely. The tension he had seen before was gone. Even Danny Boyle smiled when he passed, but he hurried ahead, making his wife and children run to catch up. They nodded politely as they jogged by.

  The faithful crowded the church, more than there were before. Maybe Isaac had driven some away or had his small army doing other jobs, not attending church like the rest.

  Wolfe did not see how he would fit inside. He once again decided he did not want to go. “No room. Back to the house.”

  “No bueno,” Walton replied with a chuckle. He helped a reluctant Wolfe out of the cart.

  “We are going to have words about this,” Wolfe promised.

  “I look forward to them, my friend.” Walton’s smile was sincere and warm. It disarmed Wolfe and sent him limping inside.

  “You do not have to tell me. I guess we are sitting up front?”

  “Of course.” This time, it was Jennifer who seemed to know things Wolfe did not.

  Abraham worked his way through the faithful, shaking hands and sharing kind words. When he finally made it to the stage, he called for quiet. He started with a prayer
and a call to grace, forgiveness for those who were lost, and glory for those who had been found.

  Wolfe watched in silence, avoiding the obligatory amen. Abraham said his final words and then asked Wolfe to come to the stage. Wolfe limped up the short steps and toward the center, where Abraham waited.

  “I only have one question, Mister Wolfe. Why do you do what you do?”

  “I am not one for speaking in public. I keep to myself usually.” Wolfe spoke softly, but it was quiet in the room. Even so, some in the back strained to hear. Wolfe looked at Jennifer, who smiled back. The simplicity of it all struck him. Had it not been for the war and the tragic fallout afterward, they would have never met. Would her life have been better or worse? He had no idea. Wolfe only did the best he could. “I do not much care who started the war or why. That is ancient history. We are left to pick up the pieces. Whether we are sacred as survivors, I do not know nor care. What I do know is that if I want the world to be a better place, without another nuclear war, then I have to make sure men like Isaac are not allowed to prey on people like you. That men like Abraham are praying for you.”

  The congregation gave a hearty “Hear, hear!” Wolfe waited for the din to die down before continuing.

  “I did not want to get involved here or anywhere else, but sometimes, we cannot stand by and let things happen. We cannot let bad things happen to good people. Our wives. Our daughters. Our brothers and our sisters. We have to fight against those who would take. In the Red Zone, they are called the wilders. They know no law but the survival of the fittest. I have found in my travels after the war that it is not much different in the Clear Area. Fight for yourselves, and fight for your families. If you do not, the Isaacs of this new world will crush you under their feet. If Abraham asks you to do something hard, you listen. If he asks you to do something against your conscience, you refuse.”