Trail of Misery

by N A Broadley

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Harris stared up at the sky through branches that dappled the sunlight. He’d taken a hit. The bullet lodged deep into his shoulder. He slowed his breathing and tried to get up. Finally getting to a sitting position, he looked around and saw four of his men on the ground. Andy, Taylor, Carl, and Doug lie in puddles of blood that was slowly being soaked into the pine needles and sand of the ground. No one was moving. He glanced at his shoulder and saw blood flowing freely from the bullet wound. He tried to move his arm and found it was useless. Like a numb hunk of meat just dangling there. He grimaced as the thought of just how fucked he was.

  His men scattered. They left him and the others behind. He was sure the cowardly bastards were halfway to Mexico by now. Images of Caitlin floated in his mind. If he died, then Bobby would take her back. And that thought curled his stomach. He loved the woman. He knew she didn’t feel the same for him, but that was okay. He treated her nice. Kept her fed and safe. At least as safe as anyone could be in these times.

  He heard the crashing in the brush and looked up to see a large man walking toward him. He tried to stand, tried to pull his sidearm, but dizziness and pain drove him back to the ground.

  “Well, well. Lookee here,” the man said as he crouched down and placed his forearms across his knees. In one hand he held the biggest blade Harris had ever seen. Harris raised his eyes and what he saw in the other man’s gaze sent a chill of horror down his spine.

  “Me and you? We’re gonna have us a nice little chat,” Brian crooned softly, and his lips curved into a cold and deadly smile.

  Harris felt his bladder let loose, and he began to cry. As Brian began his nasty work, he sent up a prayer.

  “God, forgive me.”

  He looked down at the man before him. He figured he was about five heartbeats away from death. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, sticky and stringy as it hung suspended for a brief second before plopping to the ground. A cold shell formed around his heart. He’d learned all from the man that he could. Taking his knife, he bent his face close to the man’s and stared into his eyes. There was not much life left in them. The man choked and gasped as he used his last breath to speak.

  “Caitlin,” he sighed.

  Brian plunged the knife deep into his chest, right over his heart and gave a violent twist. Pulling it out, he wiped the bloody blade across his pant leg. Standing, he stretched his aching back. Killing was hard work. At least the kind of killing he did. His knees popped, sounding like gunshots as he stood. Shit, he was getting too old for this! But, at least now he knew what he was up against; the odds weren’t in his favor, but, they were better than he originally thought. This Bobby, he was a dude that needed killing.

  From what Harris told him, the horror of what Bobby, his boss, had done and was still doing set Brian’s teeth on edge and his eyes hardened with anger as he muttered into the silence surrounding him.

  “Yup. He needs killing.”

  He gathered up three of the horses and tied them single file to each other. On the remaining horse, he emptied the saddlebags and shoved everything into the bags on the horses he would be taking. Having these horses would even out the odds.

  Once done, he checked each of the dead men, digging in their pockets for anything he thought would be of value. He grinned in happy surprise as he pulled out from one of the dead men’s pockets a tin of Skoal. He opened it to see it was full and taking a pinch between two fingers he shoved the tobacco between his teeth and his cheek. He then set to work stripping the men of guns, knives, and whatever else he thought would be useful. Taking one last look to be sure he didn’t miss anything, he climbed up into the saddle and slowly made his way up the treacherous trail.

  As he plodded along, he thought of what Harris told him. The group that was chasing them was forty strong — led by Bobby, who Harris described as a twisted and evil maniac. Brian learned that Bobby’s home base was in a small town in Lee, Massachusetts. Not far from the Appalachian Trail where there was quick and easy access to all of the small towns that surrounded them.

  When the Event struck, Bobby moved quickly, gathering up all the men he could find and pulling them into a gang that had easily taken over the town and surrounding areas.

  Throughout the winter when many were fighting the virus, fighting to stay alive as society began to break down, Bobby and his men went on raids, attacking, killing indiscriminately and building up their supplies by taking from everyone else.

  Quickly they accumulated enough supplies and enough firepower to become the most dangerous gang in the area. Then their raids began to extend outward as they built up the drug trade and added human trafficking to their rising business. And sadly most towns didn’t have the defenses nor the manpower to hold them at bay.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Spike heard the pounding of hooves coming up quickly behind them on the trail. Moving quickly, with his heart in his throat, he grabbed both Beth and Sarah and led them deep into the tangled brush and hid. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he prepared himself that this might be the day he would die. But he would go down fighting. Fear coursed through his veins. Not for himself, but for Sarah and Beth. If Bobby’s gang got a hold to them, then their lives would be nothing but pain and misery. Short-lived at best. He thought of what he’d told Brian how it would be a mercy to kill the two before ever letting Bobby take them. He wouldn’t be able to do it. He’d die trying to defend them, but he wouldn’t be able to kill them.

  They’d heard a volley of shot hours earlier and knew it was Brian fighting it out with the men below on the trail. Spike looked over at Beth and saw her lips were pressed firmly together and a determined look glinted in her eyes. She held her rifle at the ready.

  “Be ready to run,” he whispered.

  Beth smiled coldly. There would be no running.

  “I mean it, Beth! I will hold them off for as long as I can. You grab Sarah, and you run! You don’t know what these men are capable of!” he hissed.

  “No!” she argued back, and he saw that as if to back her up, Sarah was shaking her head too. They could run as he said. He would, she knew, hold their attackers off for a few minutes, but that would not be enough. They had horses and would chase her and Sarah down in a matter of seconds. Running, to her, was not an option. Jessie sat nervously beside her and whined softly.

  Fearfully she watched through the brush as the horses closed the distance. Her heart beat wildly, her hands shook as she readied her gun and her stomach roiled nauseously. Sarah, beside her, drew her weapon and looked at Beth, nodding. Her crystal blue eyes were wide with fear.

  Spike did a touchstone ritual. Gun in one hand, he felt for the knife on his side and the knife strapped to his chest and released each of the metal snaps that held them in place. Sucking in a deep breath, he prepared himself for the fight ahead. He sent up a silent prayer then made the sign of the cross. He’d never been a religious man, but today he thought a little religion couldn’t hurt.

  As she saw the horses round the bend and Brian sitting tall in the saddle, Beth jumped up in excitement. She squealed as she ran toward him and the three horses he was leading. Spike, letting out a nervous breath, followed along with Sarah and Jessie. As Brian climbed down out of the saddle, Beth threw herself into his arms.

  “I thought you were dead! I thought they got you!” she cried as he wrapped his arms around her and held her. Her body trembled with pent up anxiety.

  “I heard the gunshots. I thought….” she sobbed in relief. Brian shook his head and grinned, pushing her away to look down into her face. As his eyes met hers, his breath caught in the back of his throat. This woman, this tough soft, tender, stubborn woman touched his heart as no other before.

  “It’s okay Beth. It’s okay,” he said softly.

  Stepping away, she wiped the tears on her face away with a shaking hand. Sarah moved up beside her and slung an arm around her shoulder and leaned her head to rest against her. Beth turned her
face to Sarah’s and smiled through watery eyes.

  “We’re okay now.”

  “Dude. Nice to see ya,” Spike said then smiled as he reached out and clasped Brian’s shoulder with his hand then looking at the horses he smiled.

  “So I take it you got them, boys, to give up their horses eh?”

  Brian laughed softly. “Yeah, they just handed them on over.” He watched Sarah as she moved away from Beth and petted one of the chestnut mares on her nose. This was his family. He let that thought settle with him for a moment, then smiled.

  Beth cut him a quizzical look, and he shrugged his shoulders. He thought it best she did not know the details of what happened down in the valley. What would she think of him if she knew how much of a cold-hearted killer he really was? Would she still be happy to see him? Cry tears of relief? Or would it repulse her? No, he would never let her know of the dirty work he was capable of.

  “We’ve got some time so why don’t we sit and have a bite to eat and I’ll fill you guys in on what I’ve found out about our friend Bobby,” Brian suggested.

  They all nodded. Brian pulled up a downed log from the woods and sat. Beth moved in beside him, close enough that their thighs were touching. He reached down and gently squeezed her hand, then released it. This something that was happening between them left him wanting to explore it more. And he would have time to do that sooner or later. He would make sure of that. Jessie lay at their feet, dozing in the sunshine while Sarah and Spike sat opposite on the ground.

  When Brian finished filling them in, he paused for a moment, drinking the soda he’d pilfered from one of the dead men’s saddle bags.

  “So, at least now we know what we’re up against,” he said softly.

  Spike nodded and sighed deeply.

  “Shit. Man, I knew of this gang, but not how strong they’d become,” he muttered.

  Beth stood up and paced anxiously, her brow wrinkled in thought. Forty men, minus the five that Brian killed. The odds were still thirty-five to four. They would have a slim chance in hell of fighting it out with them.

  “So we move faster than they do,” she said determinedly. “And hope they don’t catch up to us before we reach your grandfather’s compound.”

  Everyone nodded. That was their only option. Try to stay at least one step ahead.

  “Okay, let’s ride,” Brian said as he climbed up into the saddle.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Bobby took the low road. He split his men, one group off of the Appalachian, covering the side trails. His group moved to the main trail, cutting off onto every trail that led to back roads and highways. They would find those who killed his brother. Of that, he had no doubt. There were only so many places they could hide. And with his men scattered about, those places would be few and far between.

  His stomach churned nauseously and cramped. It nearly made him double over, he paused and lightly rubbed it thinking it might be something he’d eaten. Whatever it was made him feel shitty. It was hard to concentrate on the road in front of him, and he pulled a ginger ale from his saddlebag, slowly he sipped it as the horse plodded along. He’d been hitting the white stuff frequently and made a promise to himself that he’d back off a bit. The stuff was poison, but oh he so loved the high it gave him. That must be what was giving him all these stomach issues lately. Too many drugs, too much booze, he had to ease back a bit.

  His mind wandered back to the night before. Had he gone too far? He let his temper get the best of him. He didn’t mean to hurt her so badly, just a little made him feel powerful. But the little had turned into an all-out blinded rage. He began to wonder if she would still be alive when he returned home. He’d left Harris’ woman, Caitlin, to take care of her. To clean her up and tend to her wounds but dang, even he was surprised at his level of violence with her last night.

  He still tasted her blood on his teeth. He still felt the ghost of her flesh as he pounded her with his fists. Then he’d brought out his knife, and the echo of her screams still lingered in his ears. He savaged her. He lost all sense of himself as he let himself do all those things to her that sane men couldn’t even imagine. His ears became deaf to her pleading, her cries, then her whimpers. He shook his head.

  “God, you are one sick mother fucker dude,” he muttered to himself. And he knew this to be true. Part of him knew of his descent into madness, into insanity. And that part of him welcomed it with open arms. He let himself get out of control, and he blamed the drugs, he blamed the grief over the death of his brother, and he blamed the stress he was under. He blamed everything but himself. But guilt had a funny way of gnawing at his stomach.

  He relaxed in the saddle as the horse he was riding climbed the hilly dirt road. The gentle rocking motion and the warm sunshine lulled him into a state of daydreaming.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Roger led the group toward the side trail, up Pysons Gap Road. He knew Spike would not stick to the main AT trail. Nope, his grandson would take the less traveled trail that cut across the mountain. He knew exactly in which direction he would go. And that was right into the heart of the lion. His lower back nagged at him with a dull ache as he shifted his weight in the saddle. His heart was heavy with worry. His grandson weighed heavy on his mind. He watched as Cain moved his horse up beside him.

  “Doing okay grampa?” Roger grimaced and nodded. The kid had a smart mouth on him, and sometimes he’d just like to smack it.

  “Don’t you worry about me, boy, I’ll run circles around your skinny ass!” he shot back then grinned. He heard Cain laugh softly.

  “I know you will old man,” he replied.

  The men Spike was after were the gang out of Lee, Massachusetts. Of that, Roger was sure. They’d been having problems with that gang for months now, and he cursed himself for not taking care of that problem sooner. He saw the group of riders coming toward him and his face split into a wide grin. Leading the group was none other than Spike. Nudging his horse with his heel, he sped up to meet him.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Bobby led his group down Myrtle Street. A cracked, paved road that had seen better days. Houses dotted either side of the street. Old Victorians, Capes, and Ranches. Yards overgrown with weeds that spilled out onto the street were unkempt and littered with debris. From behind darkened windows, he could feel eyes on him, and he motioned for his men to be wary.

  He thought it was probably a once nice neighborhood. The kind of neighborhood he would not have been welcomed in.

  Not that it mattered anymore. Now he could go into any neighborhood. There was no one to stop him. This town looked to him like it would be worth exploring at a later date. Stopping in front of a white Victorian, he spied a man sitting on a rickety lawn chair in front of an open fire.

  “Hey, you!” he barked. The man looked up at him with sunken hollow eyes.

  “Have you seen any strangers rolling through here lately?”

  The man shook his head and went back to tending his fire oblivious to the danger about to befall him.

  With a grunt, Bobby dismounted and walked across the high grass toward the man. His stride long and fast.

  “Are you sure no strangers have been through here?”

  The man once again raised his eyes to Bobby.

  “Fuck you want?” he muttered. Bobby smirked and with one swift movement, kicked the chair spilling the man onto the ground. Standing over him, he grinned.

  “I asked you a question,” he muttered. Scrambling, the man jumped to his feet just as Bobby pulled his gun. Laughing, he looked over his shoulder at his men then back to the man who stood before him.

  “Welp?”

  The man glared back at him.

  “I told you, man, no one has come through here,” he muttered angrily. With one quick movement, Bobby shot him in the face and laughed as the man crumpled to the ground. He heard a scream erupt from inside the house and looking up, saw the door swing open and a woman come running out. He gazed at her with a grin. Tall, blon
de, leggy. She looked to be in her mid to late thirties.

  “Well, well, what have we got here?” he chuckled as the woman ran toward him and threw herself at him in a fit of fury. He grabbed her roughly by the hair and threw her onto the ground. He landed a sharp kick to her stomach and watched in amusement as she gasped for air and gagged. Had he not been in a hurry, he would’ve taken the time to get to know this woman better, but the mission called. Turning his head, he looked toward the doorway of the house and saw a child of about three standing there in a dirty diaper and crying while it sucked on its thumb. Raising his gun, he aimed and shot. It wouldn’t do to leave a child like that, one so young, to fend for itself. The woman on the ground screamed in agony as she realized just what he’d done.

  “My baby! What have you done you animal!” Bobby turned a kicked her solidly in the face, knocking her out.

  Motioning to Derek, one of his men, he instructed him to grab her and tie her up.

  “We’re bringing her with us.”

  He wasn’t about to pass up a chance to add to his brothel, and she was just the type that he knew would sell quickly.

  He turned and walked back to his horse and watched as Derek threw the woman across his saddle. With a wave of his hand, he motioned for his men to follow him.

  ∞

  From the top of a long hill, he spied the group of men as they rode toward him. He motioned for his men to hit the woods and he watched from behind a large Pine tree.

  The group, twenty or so, rode arrogantly up the middle of the road. He turned his head left, his eyes set on a smaller group snaking up the hill from the other direction.

  “Mmmmm…what have we got here folks?” he murmured. He pulled a pair of binoculars from his pocket and peered through the lenses. Four riders. Two women, two men. Then something pink caught his eye, and he swore softly as excitement coursed through him.