Fight Like Hell [America Falls Series | Books 1-6]

by Medbury, Scott

“Thanks, and… amen.”

  Diana stood up after the evening meal.

  “We’re taking a vote. Luke wants to stay on for a time.”

  There were a few claps and a whistle.

  “I’m voting no. The Brotherhood are due soon and if he’s found here he’ll be taken or killed and they’ll probably kill a few more of us for good measure. If he manages to stay undiscovered when they come, it will be another mouth for us to feed and, no offence Luke,” she said, looking up at him. “A pretty big one at that.”

  This drew some laughter.

  “Do you want to say anything before the vote, Luke?”

  “Sure. Well I just want to say, thanks for taking me in and I’ll accept whatever you decide. If you let me stay I promise I’ll work hard and do my best to produce more than I use – or eat,” he said, putting a hand on his belly and looking sidelong at Diana.

  The result was 23 to 9 in favor of no.

  “Sorry,” said Diana, coming across to him afterwards.

  “It’s okay. I understand it’s a pretty big deal to take a perfect stranger in.”

  “You’re welcome to stay for two more nights. That’ll give you plenty of time to get your strength back and your leg should be as right as rain by then.”

  “Thanks.”

  Luke made an effort to socialize with the rest of the group afterwards. He had no hard feelings towards them; he may have even voted the same way himself if he’d been in their position. He liked that every night through the spring and summer they had a communal fire, and all ate together. They were a small enough group to do that and it really added to a sense of community. What a shame they’d been interfered with by this ‘Brotherhood’.

  He graduated to an old sleeping bag in front of the fire that night. He half-expected a visit in the night from Diana’s friend, Cathy. She had spent a good part of the night flirting with him, but he hoped his gentle rebuffs had gotten the message through.

  An awkward scene was the last thing he wanted.

  16

  The next day they began scything and harvesting the oats. Luke was happy to help. He noticed an unspoken ramping up in the speed of their work and knew it had to do with the impending visit of the Brothers in five days.

  “Thanks so much,” Diana said that night as they sat around the fire, nursing blisters and sore muscles. “It normally takes a day and a half to scythe the whole field, but we did it in one.”

  “Not a problem, it took me a while to work out how to hold the damn thing with this,” he said, holding up his hook. “But once I did it was a breeze.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” she laughed.

  “No, you’re right,” he grinned, and rubbed the shoulder where he had wedged the handle while he’d swung the bladed tool with his good hand. “My armpit hurts like a bitch. Not to mention my back.”

  “You sure that’s not from the pitching?”

  During their break for lunch he’d spotted Tommy and Jacob playing with a beaten up old Louisville slugger and an even more beaten, out of shape ball. He asked if he could join in. They’d let him, grudgingly, and he took turns pitching to them. While they’d been cagey at first, still not trusting him entirely, before long they were happily taking turns, listening to his random stories about the history of the game.

  “Positive! That part was fun,” he said, holding up his hook. “Even if I didn’t get a turn at bat because of this.”

  The next day they began de-husking and separating the grains from the chaff. Diana was right. Harvesting had been the easy part and, in a way, Luke was glad he didn’t have two hands. He made up for it by helping with the heavy lifting, stacking and anything else that needed doing, so that the nimble hands of the rest could concentrate on the task at hand.

  They would be at it for days, but still, it was honest work and the sense of community still shone through, no matter how tedious the work was. By the end of that day they had two sacks full and still had three quarters of the bushels they had cut down to go.

  As they ate stew around the fire that night, Luke offered to stay one more day.

  “I know I was supposed to go tomorrow morning, but if I stick around tomorrow and go the next day, you’ll be past the worst of it. And you’ll have two more sacks. Four is all you need for them, right? Then you can start on the vegetables.”

  “Maybe we should have a revote, Di?” asked Tommy.

  “Yeah!” said Jacob, along with a few others.

  Tommy had been the most enthusiastic of the no voters, perhaps seeing Luke as a threat to his own position. The two oldest boys in the group were clearly more enamored of him now than they had been, before they’d gotten to know him.

  Diana ignored her brother.

  “Okay, one more day, but then you definitely have to scoot the morning after tomorrow.”

  “Okay, deal.”

  They filled three more sacks the next day and Luke got a start on digging up potatoes, managing to fill a barrel by the time they finished for the day.

  “Why don’t you hide how much you have?” Luke asked on his final night. “Maybe put four sacks on display so they only take two?”

  “We’ve tried that. They found us out and ended up taking our whole harvest of oats. That was bad. Real bad. We lost two kids that winter.”

  Luke was silent, his distaste for the Brotherhood growing incrementally with every example of their cruelty. He didn’t talk about fighting them again. Diana had clearly decided through experience that resistance was not worth it. He might not agree, but it was their community, not his.

  Diana came over to him as the last of her people retired for the evening.

  “I want to thank you for your help. We would have done it without you, but it would have taken a lot longer.”

  “No problemo. Thank you for rescuing me and letting me stay here for a while.”

  The normally non-demonstrative Diana then reached up and pulled him into a bear hug. The show of affection took him by surprise. While totally platonic, her show of affection was out of character.

  “It’s a bit cooler tonight, why don’t you sleep on the couch in our living room?”

  “Sure, that would be great. Thanks.”

  As it was, they stayed up later than the others, sitting by the fire and talking about their lives before the attack. Diana had lived in Augusta with her parents, an only child. They’d succumbed to the flu quickly, just like his parents, and she’d basically curled into a ball on her bed and not moved for two days.

  As far as she knew, it was the end of the world and that’s where she’d die. That was when three of her friends had turned up and persuaded her to go with them. They spent a month on the run, hiding out from the Chinese as they made their way south-west, until, almost starving and in a bad way physically, they met Stephen and his group.

  He’d been out hunting and offered to take them to his camp for a hot meal.

  “That’s how I ended up in Willatan Green.”

  “What about your friends?”

  “Well, I guess we weren’t that close. Stephen told us we could stay. They didn’t want to. I did. They left.”

  There was obviously some pain related to that parting. Luke didn’t press any further and Diana stood.

  “I’m beyond tired. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, and rose wearily to her feet.

  “Goodnight, Luke.”

  “Night, Diana.”

  The next morning Diana cooked another batch of oatmeal. Luke had two full bowls and went back to the fire for another.

  “See, I told you we couldn’t afford to keep you around, you’d eat us out of house and home.”

  “Well if you didn’t make it so delicious, I wouldn’t need a third helping.” Luke laughed.

  After he finished, Luke stood, his belly overfull.

  “Well, I better make tracks.”

  Diana stood.

  “Tommy, Jacob, go get Luke’s gear.”

  They came back with his axe, and a small satch
el.

  Luke slung his axe over his shoulder and then pointed to the satchel.

  “What’s that?”

  “Just some food and water. Enough for a day or two if you stretch it out,” said Diana.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I won’t say no.”

  He pulled her into a hug and then hugged the others who came up to say goodbye.

  “Tommy and Jacob will see you to the gate.”

  “Okay, thanks again for having me,” he said and gave her a salute.

  Luke fell in behind the two teenagers.

  “Oh wait, I almost forgot.”

  He turned back. Diana reached behind and under the light jacket she was wearing and produced his Glock. She held it out by the barrel as she fished the spare clips from her jeans pocket.

  Luke held up his hand and hook.

  “No, you keep the gun. A gift for saving my life.”

  “No, really, you should take it, it’s dangerous out there.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s dangerous here too, think of it as an extra layer of protection, especially if you’re losing the boys.”

  She looked like she was going to argue further but, in the end, nodded and smiled before tucking the gun away again.

  “Thanks.”

  A few minutes later, Luke was walking back through the entrance to Willatan Green and headed up the hill where he had nearly lost his life to the pack of dogs. He turned back once before entering the trees and saw Tommy and Jacob still watching. He gave them one last wave before disappearing.

  17

  He paused when he got back to the junction of the 202.

  “Well where to now, Lukey boy?” he asked himself. “You know what? I still want to see the ocean. Screw the Brotherhood.”

  He pulled the creased map from the pocket of his leather jacket and unfolded it on the road top. One day’s walk along the 202 would see him arrive in a town called Alfred where he could stop for the night. From there he could join the 101. That would take him the rest of the way to the coast.

  A name on the map jumped out at him. Old Orchard Beach. He remembered his family had done a day trip from Portland to Old Orchard Beach. It had been about a 25 minute drive south, but was directly east from his current location.

  That would do nicely, and hopefully the change of destination would help him avoid the Brotherhood altogether. He set off with a bit more energy in his steps. He would get to see the ocean and relive some fond memories after all. He remembered spending a good hour playing pinball in the arcade on the old wooden pier. He wondered if it was still standing.

  Luke stopped for the night in Alfred. The town was abandoned, and a cursory observation told him it had been pretty much looted bare. Despite that, in the late afternoon sunshine, it looked inviting. It was leafy and looked like it had been a quiet little town where he imagined everyone had known everyone.

  He didn’t waste time looking for food; he’d only eaten one sandwich and a carrot for lunch, so still had enough for two days. He topped up the water bottle Diana had packed for him with rainwater from a puddle and picked a house a few streets off the main road to sleep in.

  There was no need to break down the door, it was already off its hinges, as were the doors of every house he saw. He headed up the stairs and found an unoccupied bedroom with a dusty bed and pillow upon which to rest his head. The door had a lock, so he made use of it but was not really concerned about uninvited visitors through the night.

  Before closing his eyes, he rolled over and pulled out the bedside drawer and reached in. You never know what you might find.

  He scrabbled around in the dark and his fingers found a book, a set of keys and some loose coins. He pocketed the coins, not really thinking about why, and was about to pull his hand out when his fingers brushed against a soft papery box tucked right up the back. Cigarettes!

  Excitedly, he felt around hoping to find a lighter. He didn’t. But what he did find was a half-used book of matches. Not as good as a lighter, but it would do. He pocketed them too and closed his eyes.

  Dawn was just touching the eastern horizon when he set out the next morning. Barring unforeseen circumstances, he estimated he should arrive in Old Orchard Beach late that afternoon.

  The trip was uneventful until around midday, when he came across the strangest sight he’d seen since setting out with Isaac all those years ago.

  He had just passed through a small town and was travelling down an open length of road with forest on either side when he saw rustling in the bushes about 30 yards ahead. From the amount of noise and movement, he could tell it was something big. Something bear big.

  He had only just paused and put his bag down in case he needed to quickly unloose his axe when an African lion sauntered onto the road carrying a fresh kill, a fox, dangling from its jaws.

  Luke’s froze, his mouth hanging open.

  A lion. On a road. In Maine.

  Robert Frost would be rolling over in his grave.

  With his heart pounding in his chest, he watched it. It looked as though it was going to cross the road without looking his way, but then, almost as if sensing he had company, the lion stopped and swung its big, maned head his way.

  Golden eyes as big as baseballs met his. Luke held the big animal’s gaze and stood as still as he could. It was only a few seconds, but to Luke, it felt like ten minutes before the king of the forest dismissed him and disappeared into the brush on the other side of the road.

  “Well, now I’ve seen it all,” he said.

  He stayed put to make sure the big fella wasn’t coming back. After a few minutes, his heart rate returned to normal and he set off again, glancing over his shoulder several times to make sure he wasn’t being stalked by a big ass kitty.

  It was mid-afternoon as he entered Biddeford. It was big, but a ghost town. He didn’t plan to find out if there were any inhabitants after his troubles back in Bow Lake Village and stuck to the road all the way to an intersection called the Five Ways.

  He turned onto the 1 here, also known as Elm Street, and briefly thought of the horror movie, A Nightmare on Elm Street. That movie had given him nightmares as a kid. His older cousin Tony had insisted they watch it at a sleepover. It just seemed childish and silly now, given what they had all lived through since.

  Crossing over the Saco River, he spotted the first people he had seen since Willatan Green.

  In the distance and heading his way were a man and a woman leading a horse and cart. The clip clop of the horse’s hooves echoed off the buildings around them.

  Luke maintained a steady pace. They looked harmless enough.

  As they drew closer he saw they were around his age, the man tall and thin with a scraggly beard. The woman, much shorter. They wore what looked to be homespun clothes, set off incongruously by matching bright red baseball caps.

  The couple eyed him suspiciously, and he realized he must look a little sinister with his leathers and axe handle showing over his shoulder.

  Luke raised his hand and smiled.

  “Hey,” he called, only then realizing the woman had a shawl wrapped baby held against her chest. He felt tears sting his eyes as a brief wave of emotion rolled over him.

  “Hi,” said the man, maintaining his pace.

  Luke slowed a little but didn’t move towards them. He noted the cart was empty.

  “Are you coming from Old Orchard Beach?”

  “Yes Sir, we sold a batch of pumpkins and bought some supplies.”

  This earned the man an elbow in the ribs from his companion.

  “It’s alright, Nat. We can’t be scared of everyone,” he said.

  “No Ma’am, no danger here. I’m just passing through,” Luke said, holding up his hands – well, one hand and one hook. The woman’s eyes widened, and he put them down sheepishly.

  “So, there are people in the town then?”

  The other guy slowed his horse and cart to a stop. His partner glared up at him but didn’t protest.

  “Oh,
for sure. Lots.”

  “Awesome,” said Luke, thinking the opposite.

  “You can get yourself a meal and an ale. You look like you could use one!”

  Luke laughed.

  “Yep. I reckon I could. So, there is a market or something?”

  “Yeah a big one. You have anything to sell?”

  “No. Who runs it all?”

  The couple looked at each other and then the young woman nodded.

  “The town kind of runs itself, but they answer to the Brotherhood.”

  “I see.”

  “You know them?”

  “I’ve heard tell of them,” said Luke, totally unaware he was speaking like a character from a bad Western movie.

  The man let out the rope he was leading the horse with and came closer.

  “Just watch yourself with them. They’re okay if you don’t stir the pot, but they patrol the town… kind of like cops. They’re pretty tough on troublemakers.”

  “Thanks for the heads up,” said Luke. “Let me guess, they don’t provide policing for free?”

  “No, sir. There’s a cost, but the people in town are happy to pay.”

  “They pay for protection and nothing bad happens?”

  “That’s about the sum of it.”

  A good old-fashioned protection racket.

  “How many people are in town?”

  “Um, don’t know for sure, but I’d guess a couple of thousand.”

  “And they don’t take the boys when they turn sixteen?”

  “No sir, not from Old Orchard, anyway – just those that want to volunteer.”

  It figured, thought Luke. A few thousand people were likely to cause a whole lot more of a ruckus if someone took their sons than a smaller settlement.”

  The baby began to bawl.

  “I better let you go then. Do you have far to travel?”

  “No Sir,” said the other man, tugging on the rope and taking his wife’s hand. “Just a few miles. Take care.”

  “You too,” said Luke, walking on.

  He stopped after a few paces and turned, watching the small family go on their way. His face was devoid of emotion as he turned back east, his eyes another story altogether.