“Let him go!” Brooke said.
But the men continued their assault, working to pry Brooke’s hands loose from her son. Brooke held Lucas as he thrashed and cried out.
The men were too strong for Brooke. They managed to pry her hands away and take her son.
Brooke stood and took only one step forward before the chains restricted her movement. She pulled on them, wishing desperately she could yank them out of the wall.
One of the men tossed Lucas over his shoulder, and the boy reached for Brooke desperately, tears pouring down his cheeks.
“Lucas! I love you, baby!”
But after only a moment, the men were through the door and her son was out of sight. Brooke fell to her knees. Her shoulders slumped, and she could do nothing but cry. Too many thoughts ran through her head for her to even focus on one. Never in her life had she felt this helpless. How had the world come to this? It seemed like only yesterday when she and Lucas had been sitting on the sofa watching cartoons. Her life hadn’t been perfect by any means, with a marriage on the verge of collapse. But at least she’d had some stability and security. If she’d known then what the world would become, Brooke would have worked harder to appreciate the small moments. To live in those moments and cherish them with her son.
She was pulled out of her thoughts by someone entering the room again. He held a candle in his hand, and it was apparent that the bald leader of the group was the one standing in the doorway.
“He will be taken care of,” he said. “Don’t worry about that.”
“Fuck you,” Brooke said, spitting through tears. “Go to hell, you piece of shit.”
“Those words won’t change anything. Nothing you do or say will. The only choice you can make right now is how you react to all of this.”
Brooke crumbled to the floor. Her face lay against the cold concrete. “Bring me back my son.” The words had come out as shallow and weak. “Please.”
But the man didn’t reply. He simply turned around, shutting the door behind him and leaving Brooke alone once again.
Brooke somehow found the energy to sit back up straight, and then she screamed, hoping somewhere out there could hear her.
32
“The ride’s about to get a little bumpy,” Raylon said as he pulled off the road and onto a dirt path.
It reminded Jon of the first time he’d met Raylon, when he’d followed him down the dirt road leading to Freedom Ridge. Jon was glad Raylon had come back around on him. It couldn’t have been an easy decision to betray his own flesh and blood, but Jon knew Raylon had done the right thing. Perhaps even Lennox could be convinced later on that it had been the right thing to do.
But for now, Jon had to focus on getting his friends out of Black Hill.
The field they drove through was the same sort that Jon would have gone into to slaughter zombies before he’d been taken in by the people of Hope’s Dawn. The irony wasn’t lost on him as he went to save them now.
Off to his left, maybe a little less than a quarter of a mile away, Jon could see the outline of buildings in the dim moonlight. “That’s it?”
“That’s it. I think this is about as close as we’re going to be able to get. The grass is too tall, and the terrain is tough if we leave this dirt road. But hopefully, everyone can walk.”
Raylon brought the van to a stop. He exhaled a deep breath as he unfastened his seatbelt and got out of the van. Jon did the same.
They met at the back, where Raylon opened the van’s rear double doors. Reaching inside, he grabbed the bolt cutters. He also slid the guns he’d brought to the edge of the van’s floor.
“Take your pick,” Raylon said.
Jon grabbed two pistols, attaching a holster to his waist. He decided it was best to pack light for the trip into the camp.
“Oh, and I got something else you might want.” Raylon reached in and grabbed a box, sliding it toward Jon.
Jon opened the box to find his bat, hatchet, and knife inside.
“I thought these might make a little less noise and would be more comfortable for you.”
Jon took the bat and hatchet in each of his hands. “These are usually for killing the undead, not the living.”
Raylon shrugged. “We’ve gotta do what we’ve gotta do.”
Jon returned the bat and the hatchet to the box, but picked up the knife. “I’ll save those for zombies. These two pistols and the knife should do.”
Raylon took his pick from the guns. “Alright, we should head that way so we can get inside.”
“Raylon, wait,” Jon said. He cleared his throat. “I think I should go in alone.”
“What? That’s suicide. No way, man.”
“It’ll be fine. I don’t see any reason for both of us to go in there and risk ourselves. I think it’d be easier for just one of us to be sneaking around inside the camp. And I think it’ll be best for you to be ready to transport everyone out of here. If something goes awry, you’ll hopefully be able to at least get some of the folks to safety.”
Raylon hesitated. “Are you sure that’s what you wanna do?”
“I think it’s the best thing. We’ll find a spot for you pretty close to the camp, and I can get people to the fence and tell them where to meet you. Then, you can lead them to the van.”
Raylon thought for a moment. “I don’t know.”
Jon put his hand on Raylon’s shoulder. “You’ve got to trust me. Just like I did with you.”
Glancing at the ground, Raylon finally said, “Alright. We’ll roll with that plan.”
“Good. And you’ve got to promise me that if it seems like things are going south, then you will bail. No one here is going to know you or anyone from Freedom Ridge was involved in this rescue mission. You can head back and then you guys can make up a lie, saying I escaped or something when these assholes come asking you about it.”
“You just worry about doing what you need to do to make sure none of that happens.”
“That’s the plan.”
In truth, Jon wasn’t sure if this was going to work. Perhaps having Raylon with him would help, but he wasn’t willing to risk Raylon’s life if he didn’t have to, and he sincerely thought he’d be better off going into the camp on his own. He could move freely, keeping his eye out for threats inside the camp and adapting on the fly. And, as he’d said, if things took a wrong turn, Raylon could get away without anyone at Black Hill even knowing he’d been involved.
“Alright,” Jon said. “Let’s move.”
“Hold up,” Raylon said, jumping into the back of the van. He dug into another box and pulled something out. Getting back out of the van, he held up two walkie-talkies. “I almost forgot these were back there. We can use these to communicate.”
“I can use them to communicate if I need to,” Jon clarified. “I don’t need this thing going off while I’m in there.”
“Right. Well, it’s better than nothing. Let’s go ahead now.”
Holding the bolt cutters in his hand, and now armed, Jon headed away from the van with Raylon at his side. He clipped the walkie-talkie to his belt. It was a good thing to have, and Jon especially liked the fact that he could now warn Raylon if there was trouble and tell him to leave. As they moved, they listened for any zombies around. They could hear a few in the distance snarling into the quiet night air, but they were far enough away to where they’d be no threat.
When they came within about fifty feet of the fence, Jon stopped. “I think this is probably far enough for you.”
“You sure you wanna do this?” Raylon asked.
“I am.”
“Alright. The tear in the fence should be straight ahead. I’ll stay here so that you can tell folks just to head straight out when they leave, and then I’ll be able to guide them to the van.”
“Sounds good.” Jon stuck his hand out, offering it to Raylon. “Thanks for everything. I’ll see you on the other side of this.”
Raylon took Jon’s hand then pulled him in for a hug.
The two friends embraced, and Raylon patted Jon on the back. “Be careful in there, brother. And, seriously, use the walkie-talkie if you get into a spot and need me. Okay?”
“You got it.” Jon knew he wouldn’t do that, but he agreed anyway to make Raylon comfortable.
The two men separated, and Jon turned and headed toward the camp. He didn’t know what to expect once he got inside. Going into Black Hill made him more nervous and anxious than going into the prison had. It had been one thing to have to deal with the undead they could have encountered in the prison, but coming face to face with human beings he might have to kill to survive was another story.
He reached the fence, and found the weak spot Raylon had mentioned with ease. He used the bolt cutters to cut away some of the metal, trying to do so in a manner that didn’t make a lot of noise. When the gap was large enough, he turned back to where Raylon stood and waved.
Then, he entered Black Hill.
33
Jon stood on the other side of the fence, trying to control his breathing. He looked over his shoulder, through the chain-link and toward Raylon, but it was too dark to see anything. He knew his friend was out there, waiting for the survivors of the Hope’s Dawn fire to come to him so he could load them into the van. But once again, Jon South was alone.
It was a feeling he’d become accustomed to after Carrie and Spencer had been killed. But since he’d become part of Hope’s Dawn, he’d realized how empty a feeling it truly was. Jon no longer wanted to be alone. He wanted to be with his friends. He wanted to be with Brooke and her son.
All he could do now was hope they were alive and try to find them. If they were still breathing, he knew they had to be somewhere in this camp.
The opening in the fence had put Jon in an alleyway between two buildings. He knew nothing about the camp. All Raylon had been able to tell him was that Black Hill had been established in a strip of town in the middle of nowhere. It had been built around a gas station, a church, and a couple of retail locations. He’d told Jon it was similar to the area where they’d initially met, when Raylon and his crew had helped Jon, Brooke, and Terrence inside the pharmacy. That’d been enough to give Jon a visual, at least.
As he crept down toward the end of the alley, he could see a bit of light shining from his right. A whirring sound hit his ears, and he guessed that it was a generator powering some lights. The people of Black Hill had to be stocked full of resources if they were able to use gasoline to run a generator. Maybe the gas station had had gasoline remaining when they’d found the camp there. With so many neighborhoods left untouched out in the world—like Freedom Ridge—Jon wondered if the gas was the reason Black Hill had decided to make their camp here. There were certainly more comfortable places to live.
But none of that mattered. Right now, Jon only cared about finding his friends.
He made it to the end of the alley and looked to his right, where the light was being emitted from. It came from across the street, illuminating the outside of a building. Jon couldn’t establish what the place was, but it didn’t matter. It seemed that something important was happening over there.
Three men came out of the building, and Jon ducked behind the wall to make sure he wasn’t seen. He could hear someone trying to yell, but the screams were muffled. Someone had covered their mouth to keep the volume down, and Jon couldn’t make out if it was a man or a woman—or even if it was an adult or a child. He peeked around the corner again to try to see, but it was no use. The people had already walked out of the light.
“Shit.”
Jon couldn’t be sure that they’d had someone from Hope’s Dawn, but he assumed that probably true. He also didn’t know if the person was in immediate danger or where they were being taken. What he did know was the building they’d brought the person out of. If he had to guess, that was probably the same building the others from Hope’s Dawn were being held in. Again, he couldn’t be sure, but it was his best lead to start on. It would be tricky getting into the place with the light on around it, but he wondered if it would be possible to sneak around the back. From what he could tell, there was no light at the other end of the building.
Again, Jon poked his head out to analyze the area. He glanced to his left first to confirm no one was there, and then looked toward the lit building again. The building across from where he stood appeared to have been an antique store. The building to the left of it was the gas station Raylon had told him about, and it stood some thirty yards or so from the antique store. On the other side of the antique store, separated by a narrow alley, was a building whose old purpose Jon couldn’t make out. More than likely, the antique store now housed some of the people who lived at Black Hill, so he would have to be careful sneaking behind it. But he thought, if he could make it behind that building, he might be able to sneak to the back of where the three people had come out with the hostage.
Once more, he gazed to his left to make sure no one was coming. After he’d confirmed it was clear, Jon made his way across the road. He stayed low and moved fast but carefully, being sure he was quiet. When he reached the side of the building, he stood up straight with his back to the wall. He stayed out of sight and was still, listening to see if he heard anyone. Besides the whirring of the generator, he heard nothing. But he knew he had to remain cautious, as the generator could easily have drowned out any footsteps.
Jon slid down the wall toward the back of the building. The space between him and the gas station left him more exposed than he’d been in the narrow alley, but he had little choice. He just had to try to move as quickly as he could.
When he reached the back of the building, Jon peeked around the corner. He quickly retracted upon seeing something that had startled him.
Several tents were set up behind the antique store. From what he could tell in the dark, there appeared to be at least a dozen of them. They were all closed, but he knew there had to be people inside.
The situation was getting more intense with each passing moment.
34
Jon pulled back against the wall again. He closed his eyes for a brief moment.
“Son of a bitch.”
His body tensed up, but he soon forced himself to relax. He’d come this far, and he was pretty sure the building he was heading to had his friends in it. There was no turning back now. He’d simply have to be extra careful while moving past the tents, so as not to wake anyone inside.
With no point in waiting, Jon headed around the back of the building. He kept his gun ready to fire on anyone who might come out of one of the tents. Not knowing who was in there made him nervous. What if a young child, having heard something outside, appeared from one of the tents? Would Jon hesitate to shoot them, or would he fire his weapon in defense, especially in the dark when he could hardly see anything?
He hoped he wouldn’t have to find out.
Jon knew he likely wasn’t going to get in and out of Black Hill without some sort of conflict, but he wanted to avoid any scenario where he might hurt someone innocent. He didn’t want to assume that everyone living here in Black Hill was evil, even though he couldn’t know for sure.
He made it behind the building next to the antique store without alerting anyone inside the tents. Assuming—and hoping—that they were likely fast asleep, Jon turned his focus to the building which was his destination. There was no way the place wouldn’t have at least one person on guard, so he anticipated some sort of physical confrontation coming. He hoped by coming around from the back that he might be able to catch them by surprise.
With his back against the rear wall, Jon peeked around the corner and down the narrow alleyway. He could see the lights at the front of the building, but no one stood in the alley. He wished he could’ve seen the front of the building better earlier, when he’d first walked into Black Hill, so that he could know what to expect, but he hadn’t been that fortunate. He just had to deal with the situation he’d been handed. Unfortunately, fighting the living wasn’t the same as figh
ting the undead, so he knew he had to be willing to adapt on the fly and be ready for anything.
Jon took a deep breath and then stepped into the alleyway.
There were windows on the side of the building, and he cupped his hands against them to try to look through, but it was useless. They appeared to be covered with blackout curtains, or else it was pitch black inside. He simply wouldn’t know if his friends were in there until he actually made it inside.
As Jon approached the front of the building, he anticipated what might happen next. The whirring of the generator grew louder in his head as he got closer. It made it even more difficult for him to hear how many people were guarding the building. Still, he knew that he’d have the element of surprise, regardless. He gripped his gun tight. Jon would only use the gun as a necessity, however—because he knew if he shot it, he would wake up everyone in the camp. It would have to be a life-or-death situation for him to pull the trigger, but he kept it in his hand just in case.
Jon rushed around the corner, the generator drowning out his footsteps and working to his advantage for once. One man stood guard in front of the door, an assault rifle strapped to his body and in his hands. He had a couple of inches on Jon and probably a couple dozen pounds, but what he didn’t have was the time to react.
Lunging forward, Jon connected the butt of his pistol with the man’s forehead. The guy didn’t even have the time to raise his gun and aim it towards Jon. The impact sent him into a daze, so that he hit the wall behind him and leaned over it. Jon was able to catch the man before he hit the ground, helping to make sure his impact didn’t make a lot of noise. Catching the man’s weight put a strain on Jon’s back, but the adrenaline prevented him from hurting himself.
He didn’t know what to expect when he opened the door. There could be one or more guards inside, and he wasn’t even totally sure he would find his friends in there. But he still pushed on the door and headed inside.
Dead South | Book 3 | Dead Hope Page 11