by N A Broadley
“I’ll keep up. We’ve got to keep pushing,” he replied in annoyance. A sheen of sweat glistened on his face red with exertion.
“Okay. Whatever!” she snapped as she turned and stomped away from him up the hill. He saw Spike raise an eyebrow in question and he shook his head. Best to just let it go. They were all tired and irritated. The punishing, grueling trek was starting to take its toll on their moods.
He hadn’t told either her or Sarah what Spike told him about the men that were chasing them. Not the gory details. He didn’t want to scare them any more than they already were. But these men, Bobby’s gang, were similar to so many gangs that he had dealings with in the past. They were ruthless, they were violent, and once they had their eyes set on a course, it would take nothing short of blood and bullets to stop them.
Beth could hear the river up ahead and picked up her pace. She was as parched as a dirt hill, and sweat rolled in itchy little trickles down between her shoulder blades. The sun overhead, cut shadows in and out of the trees dappling the ground beneath her.
“Okay guys, let’s fill up here,” Spike said. She sighed in relief and shrugged her sore shoulders out of her pack and threw it on the ground. Stretching, she groaned as one muscle after another released tension.
It was a small, fast flowing brook that cut through and down to the Housatonic River. Spike fished here many times as a boy with his grandfather and later, by himself as an adult.
The water was clean, fast flowing, and crystal clear. Spike watched as Beth walked to the river’s edge.
“Be careful Beth. The water is moving at a good clip,” he warned. She shot him a nod over her shoulder before taking off her hiking boots, stripping out of her sticky tee shirt and wading into the cold water up to her knees. The current did its best to unbalance her.
Bending over, she cupped her hands and splashed her face, shoulders, and neck then dampened her hair. Damn, she was hot and the icy water, although shocking, felt wonderful on her skin. Turning her head, she watched as Sarah moved up beside her and did the same.
“It’s a hard hike, huh?”
Sarah nodded tiredly.
“Are you okay? Do we need to stop and rest awhile?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Okay, but you tell me if you need to,” she said softly. As she rinsed her shirt in the water and put it back on, she cut an irritated glance toward Spike. It angered her that he and Brian were pushing them so hard. Yes, she knew that both men were worried about this Bobby creep and his cohorts following them and she was as well but pushing themselves to the point of collapse wouldn’t help their cause.
When Brian moved up beside her, she snapped at him.
“You’ve got to tell Spike to slow down. He’s pushing too hard. It’s not doing us any good if we collapse on the trail.” Brian shook his head in frustration and anger.
“Look, Beth, I don’t know what you don’t get about these men that are after us. They are killers! They are not nice people that you can reason with. We killed one of theirs; now they want to kill us!” he growled. “If we slow down and they catch up to us then….” he didn’t continue and let his words stay unspoken. She didn’t get it. Or she refused to get it. He wasn’t sure which.
“I know! Don't you think I know? For God’s sake, it was me and Sarah that were attacked by the brother of those animals!” she spat back at him, her eyes flashing with anger as she fought against the rising anger and having a total meltdown. “I’m not as stupid as you seem to believe I am but tell me this Sherlock! How are we going to fight them if we are too exhausted even to lift our guns if they do catch up to us? Huh? Look at you? You can’t even catch a good breath! And Sarah? Both of you have been sick, and with only one day of rest, you can’t heal. I am not saying we turtle crawl, but we’re not up to running a marathon to the Connecticut border either!”
Brian laughed in surprise and shook his head. Who’d a thought it; this gentle, sweet little Beth had such a temper. Turning to Spike, he muttered,
“We gotta slow down, man,” then he grinned. “She’s the boss and to be honest; I’m kind’a afraid of her. Spike laughed out loud, then nodded.
“Sure thing bro. Yeah, I hear ya.”
They pushed on until the sun was nearly set. Mosquitoes ravaged them by the hordes, swarming black clouds that couldn’t be slapped away no matter how hard they tried. By the time they set up camp, they all were exhausted, frustrated, itchy with bug bites and hungry but too tired to do anything more than chew on a few pieces of jerky from Brian’s stash. While Sarah and Beth went off into the woods to relieve themselves, Brian gathered sticks and logs for a fire. Spike set up the tent.
“I’ll take the first watch,” Brian said as he pulled a downed log toward the fire to use as a backrest, coughing the whole time. He grimaced with each cough as pain ripped through his lungs and chest. Spike nodded.
“We’ve covered some good miles, today, man. If we can do the same tomorrow, we should almost be able to reach the Connecticut border. Then from there, Rogers compound is only a few short miles down the road.”
Brian sighed tiredly. His chest was once again hurting, and each breath felt like fire in his lungs.
“I think I’ve got pneumonia,” he muttered quietly so Beth and Sarah wouldn’t overhear him.
Spike groaned. “Are you gonna be able to make the miles tomorrow?”
“I have no choice,” Brian snapped tiredly.
And he didn’t. He’d ask Beth to fix him another cup of that witches brew he hated so much and for some more of the antibiotic she gave him earlier. It helped ease the congestion in his chest yesterday, and for a few hours after drinking the tea and taking medicine, he’d felt better.
He raised his finger to his lips when he heard Sarah and Beth coming back. Spike nodded that he understood. He didn’t know Beth much at all; just what little she’d told him about herself, but he could see, she had a strong, bossy personality. If she even suspected Brian was as sick as he was, she’d throw a fit and make them take a rest day. And that would be, in his opinion, a very dangerous thing to do. They couldn’t afford the luxury of resting. Not with Bobby and his gang after them.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Beth sat by the fire and pulled the knife from her belt to chop up the partridge that Spike bagged from his early morning hunt. The sky turned from purplish black to gray. She’d gotten up early, and so did Spike. Brian napped. Both men were tired from guard duty, and Beth decided that tonight, she and Sarah would take shifts so they could sleep.
“Is that a turkey carving knife?” Spike asked.
Beth nodded. “Yup.”
She heard him laugh and scowled at him.
“You are serious? That is a carving knife?” he choked between gusts of laughter as his eyes filled with tears. A carving knife. What the hell was this woman thinking?
Irritated, she didn’t see the humor. “Yes, I told you it was.”
“Okay, so why a carving knife? What, did ya steal it from someone’s kitchen?”
She shook her head. “No, it was mine. It was the sharpest knife in my rack, so I brought it with me.” This thought brought her glaringly back to the day the turkey carving knife saved her life. The blood, the shards of glass, the pain of the burns on her arms. A shiver danced down her spine, and she pushed the memory away. It was a memory she wasn’t willing to share. Staring down at her hands, she muttered under her breath. They were filthy with grit from the trail, covered with callouses and healed blisters. This saddened her. Her hands used to be soft and pretty. Nails always perfectly filed to shape and adorned with polish. A cough and snicker from Spike brought her out of her thoughts.
She saw him shake his head and smirk. She couldn’t help but grin.
Beth was a mystery to him, and Spike cut his eyes to her watching as she continued chopping up the partridge to toss into the pot. Most people had buck knives. Not her. She carried a long, sharp turkey carving knife tucked in her belt. Well, he supposed it w
as better than nothing. Brian, hearing the laughter and conversation, smiled and cut his eyes at Spike.
“Hey, it’s served us well so far, so don’t laugh too hard,” he said.
Spike nodded.
“Yup, now to find a wild turkey for that long ass knife she’s carrying,” he teased.
Beth laughed. “Don’t you have something to do?” she snickered.
“Yes, ma-am. I do,” he replied with a grin and pulled himself up off of the ground just as Sarah came sleepily stumbling out of the tent.
“Morning sunshine,” he said as he strolled past her. Sarah grimaced and shot him a dark look at which he just laughed. She was not an early morning person, but she had the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen.
With breakfast over, they all set to breaking down camp. Brian worked on erasing any evidence of them being there just in case Bobby or his men came through the area. Backpacks on they began to once again push through heavy scrub brush and climb steep hills.
The sun rose bright, its heat already felt in the morning air as it beat fiercely down on them. The AT, a worn and well-used trail would have been an easier hike by far. But easier wasn’t always better. And in their case, easier would mean more dangerous.
She let her mind wander as her feet pounded the dirt and rocky trail they were following. Spike said they could make it to the Connecticut border by late afternoon. She hoped so. From there he’d said it was only a few short miles of dirt road to his grandfather's compound where they would find safety and rest. She wondered what this compound was like and moved up beside Spike. Sarah stayed in step right beside her.
“So tell me about your grandfather’s place.”
Spike smiled and wiped away beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Ahhh the Belcher Homestead. You’ll love it there,” he said. “Grandpa bought the farm before I was born. One hundred and fifty acres of woods and fields. Run down barns and sheds. It was a mess. He and Gram spent years working the land, tearing down the old buildings and building new ones, planting big gardens, putting up fences and bringing in animals. Mainly chickens, ducks, geese, pigs, goats, and cows. They brought in horses too.”
He smiled as he remembered the old homestead. “After I was born and old enough to help, mom and dad would bring me to the homestead and turn me loose with grandpa. As a kid, I thought it was the greatest thing of all. But as I got older, not so much. So I went there less and less.”
She saw a shadow of sadness darken his eyes, and she nodded. She understood less and less — more than he knew.
“I hadn’t realized what Grandpa did to the old homestead. Not until about two years ago, before the event. At first, I thought he was crazy. Turning into one of those nutbag prepper coots. But now, God now I wished to hell I’d stuck around. I wished to hell I had paid attention.” Beth nodded. She too wished she’d paid more attention to the world around her. Perhaps then she would have made an effort to learn those things she so sorely needed now. Skills such as hunting and trapping. Learning to can and preserve her food, or how to build a smokehouse or even an outhouse. How to shoot a gun and break it down to clean it. How to start a fire without the convenience of a lighter or matches. There was so much she could have learned to better prepare herself for this new life.
“So how many people at his compound?” she asked. Curiosity tickled her. She’d only read about these prepper groups or compounds and found the idea of seeing a real one captivating.
“I don’t know. I haven’t been there since before the event. But I do know this. He’s got enough food, fuel and other supplies stocked up in that place to last years. He’s got enough men and firepower to hold off an army. He wanted me and my family to go there when things started turning to shit, but I was too stubborn, too stupid to take him up on his offer. And now…” he trailed off weakly.
“Now it is what it is,” she stated firmly. He looked at her gratefully and nodded. She was right. It was what it was. There was no turning back the clocks so he could go and fix everything he screwed up. There was no bringing his sons or his wife back from the dead. There was just this. Right here, right now.
“I can’t wait to get there. I want to rest. To not be looking over my shoulder constantly and worried about whether or not we’re gonna get attacked around the next bend.” she replied tiredly.
This compound he spoke of, his grandfather’s homestead, sounded like a little piece of heaven in this hell they were living in. Beside her, Sarah nodded in agreement and slid her small hand into Beth’s. Beth looked down at her and smiled tiredly. This journey so far was hard on the child. From feet battered by blisters to a body battered by the men in her life, Beth thought it was a miracle that Sarah survived at all. She was one tough chic for sure.
The sunlight bounced off her dark hair, making it shimmer and shine. She couldn’t get over how beautiful Sarah was. Eyes sometimes the color of crystal blue sky and other times, changing to a darker and deeper shade of blue that reminded her of the sky during an afternoon thunderstorm. Wild and volatile, depending on her mood.
Yesterday they’d had the luxury of a poor man’s bath in the river, where they both washed their hair in the cold water with the bar soap that she tucked in her pack. Even Jessie decided to get in on the cleaning action and swam happily in the cold water. And the dog needed it. She was starting to stink to high heaven. It felt good to be clean if even only for a short while. And both Brian and Spike had been gentlemen, standing guard with their backs to them.
Yes, they all would be happy to get to the compound or homestead whichever it was, she thought. Maybe there she could repay Brian and Spike by heating them a pot full of water so they too could enjoy a poor man’s bath. God knew they deserved it.
They came to a stop on the ridgeline and sat tiredly on the large boulders that were scattered across the flat expanse of the mountain top. Beth laid back over a flat rock and closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the sun relax her. Sarah lay beside her, doing the same. Exhaustion penetrated every muscle in Beth’s body, and a sigh escaped her lips. To be done with this trip. To find safety at the compound seemed just a dream. She struggled herself into a sitting position and took a long drink from her bottle of water, grimacing at the bleachy, biting taste. Spike held the binoculars to his eyes and Beth heard him swear softly.
“What do you see?” Brian said. Beth’s stomach sank with fear, and she felt Sarah squeeze her hand.
“About twenty of them. Half are on the main trail, the other half heading up.”
“How far behind us?”
“Six, maybe seven hours. Those horses won’t have an easy a time climbing this bitch. They’ll be taking it real slow,” Spike replied as he handed the binoculars to Brian.
“Fuck!” Brian swore as he took in the closest group. Handing the binoculars back, he turned to Beth and shook his head. It was time. It was time for him to do what needed doing.
“I’m sorry, Beth. But you ain’t gonna like my plan,” he said softly. She scowled and shook her head. She probably wouldn’t. Spike looked at Brian, pressed his lips into a hard line, and nodded. They would all do what needed doing. Picking their packs from up off the ground, they all shrugged them back onto sore shoulders. Jessie paced anxiously and whined softly. She sensed the change in mood with her group. Beth reached a hand down and sank her fingers into the dog’s fur.
“It’s okay girl,” she whispered softly. With a mutter of frustration, she fell into step behind Spike. Sarah moved close to her side and grabbed her hand, giving it a tight squeeze. Beth looked at her and smiled. She could see the fear in Sarah’s eyes, and it angered her. Why couldn’t these people, this Bobby just leave them the fuck alone? Why didn’t he just quit already? A burning ember of anger mixed with fear sat like a stone in her stomach.
∞
Brian moved silently, like a ghost through the heavy brush. Every so often he would stop and take a breather, raise his gun, adjust the sight, draw in the dis
tance and then sling it back into the leather rifle hostler on his back. He had one knife tucked into a sheath on his leg; the other rested on his belt.
He thought he left this life of killing behind him. He only wanted to reach home, see his parents, and make his way to settling in this dangerous new world. It seemed though; fate had other ideas. His hands shook with nervous anticipation. There would be death. There would be blood. And, it would come from him. Like a harbinger of doom, he would do the job he needed to do.
Memories of others filled his mind. The screams as he slowly teased the information he needed from their pathetic souls. The cries for mercy as his heart stayed cold and deaf to their whimpering pleas. Shaking his head, he moved ahead. With a hardening of his eyes, he became the killer again.
He didn’t know how they found the trail. But he damn sure was going to slow them down. Spike, at his insistence, led Beth and Sarah ahead. He told them not to look back, keep moving forward, and he’d catch up. Beth argued, as he knew she would and he silenced her with one look. The coldness in his eyes brook no argument. These men needed killing. For her and Sarah to survive, they needed to die.
From behind a rocky outcrop, he drew his rifle again. This time he gauged the distance and grinned. Ten men rode their horses in single file climbing a steep and treacherous hill. He drew a breath and took a bead on the lead rider. He calmed his frantic thoughts and eased the anxious trembling of his hands. One tap and he felt the gun slam against his shoulder and watched as the man folded like someone pulled the wind out of him. Smiling, he aimed at the last one in line, one tap and another man down. In quick succession, he took three more before the men could gain their senses and scatter.
Smiling, he muttered. “There, now that evens out the odds just a bit better.”
He watched as the remaining men and horses scattered, running full tilt back down the trail they had been climbing. He waited a few minutes then pulling himself up from behind the rock; he slowly made his way down the hill to where the bodies lie.