This Land of Monsters

by Tim Gabrielle

  He opened the RV door and stepped in, relieved to find Duncan’s face still buried in the pillow, fast asleep. He found three cushions, left over from a couch that used to be fixed to the wall of the RV, and laid them on the ground as a makeshift bed. A silent, wide-mouthed yawn escaped him as he stretched out onto the set of warm pillows. The last of the firelight danced on the wall as closed his eyes and drifted quickly into a long, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 9

  The early afternoon light had begun to raise the temperature inside the RV as Nash slowly opened his eyes. He had started to sweat underneath the blanket he’d used in the night, and it lay crumpled on the floor next to him. He listened to the sounds of people outside as their voices intertwined with the rhythmic melodies of the birds overhead.

  His back popped while he worked out the kinks. The floor hadn’t been as bad as he’d thought it would be. The relief of having a safe place to sleep dissolved into anxiety as he realized he was alone in the RV. The bed was empty, which meant Duncan had ventured into the Treefort alone while Nash still dozed. He hurriedly knelt beside his bag and pulled out an old watch with a crack across the face. He rubbed some dirt off the glass as he held it by the last leather strap that remained.

  11:13 am.

  He’d never intended to sleep so long and he quickly readied himself to do damage control for anything Duncan might have done. Looking outside, he saw many more people than he had seen last night. He slid his shoes on, excited to get outside and explore the Treefort, after he located Duncan.

  “Morning, princess,” said Duncan, as Nash stepped out of the RV.

  The words stopped Nash in his tracks as he shut the door. Duncan sat in a sturdy plastic chair and leaned backward so it rested on the back two legs. “Don’t get too comfortable. I still call the shots. When I wanna leave, we’re leaving.”

  The anxiety of not knowing what Duncan had done while he slept gave way to the fear of being dragged back into the savage world outside the fence. “I’m not leaving.”

  “Excuse me?” The front two legs of the chair hit the ground. Nash walked casually toward the fire to join Sullivan and his group as he tried to hide the rush of excitement he felt from questioning Duncan’s authority.

  “Hey, Nash! Come back for a minute! I had something I wanted to ask you!” A cheesy smile crept onto his face. “Just for a minute, I had an idea for something.”

  His heart sank into his stomach as he turned toward Duncan, who stood in a relaxed position with a fatherly grin. Duncan was doing exactly what Nash thought he would, only he was doing it much better than expected. The show was on.

  The people from the fire watched as the he walked toward his smiling father. They could see Duncan place a hand lovingly on Nash’s shoulder, but none of them felt the pain as his fingers angrily dug in and stopped just short of Nash reacting to the pain. Nash looked into the smiling face of a man he didn’t know. Even his eyes sparkled with a friendliness he had never encountered.

  “Listen here, you little shit,” said Duncan, the sour words flowed from his glowing face. “I don’t want you getting close with these people. Keep your distance, because when I say it’s time to go, you’d better-fucking-believe it’s time to go.”

  Nash’s eyes filled with tears as he tried in vain to keep his emotions hidden. As much anger as he felt for the man now in front of him, there was a time where all he wanted was the smiling façade that gazed at him now.

  “One more thing,” said Duncan as he released his shoulder and used his hand to playfully tussle Nash’s hair. “I know who’s here. I met that little twat this morning when I went to get my breakfast. Have your fun with her while we’re here because she’s not coming with us. Hell, I might even take her for spin before we leave!”

  Nash turned sharply and walked off. He wiped his eyes dry and tried his best not to show the anger that bubbled inside.

  “Maybe we can do that together later! Sound like a plan, Buddy Boy?” Duncan sat back down in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, pleased with himself.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Sullivan as Nash joined him at the fire. He stared at Duncan through his dark sunglasses. Duncan’s smile hadn’t faded in the least. “He’s not fooling anyone.”

  “Not fooling me one bit,” said Stu, staring at the fire as it crackled softly. “Stick with us, kid. You’ll be fine.”

  Dianna stood up and inserted herself next to Nash, which pushed Sullivan aside in the process, who glared at her. “How was your first sleep, sweetie?”

  “It was good,” he chuckled as Sullivan regained his composure. “It’s a little warm in there, but it’s better than being out on the road.”

  “We need to have a briefing,” interjected Sullivan. Dianna and Nash watched as he walked away toward a smaller army tent across the Treefort.

  “No problem boss,” called Stu as they watched Sullivan walk away.

  “I’ll gather the team and head to the war room,” said Dianna.

  “War room?” asked Nash while he watched Sullivan disappear into the army tent.

  “It’s just what we call the place we have our security briefings,” said Dianna. “Kind of an odd name, given that there’s no one around here to go to war with.”

  “He’s worried about something,” said Stu, his arms crossed over top his belly. “In all our time here, I’ve never seen him worried like that.”

  Nash pulled the red strip from the night before out of his pocket. “I assume you know about these.”

  “Oh I know all about those things. Sullivan must be starting to connect the dots.”

  Nash glanced at the food truck. Lunch approached and people had started to gather, waiting for Melissa to hand out their food.

  “I have a pretty good feeling food is not the reason you want to go over there,” said Dianna as she squeezed his shoulder and pushed him toward the truck.

  He smiled as he lurched forward. He made his way toward Melissa as the people who stood at the truck walked away with their packs of food. She leaned out of the window, deep in thought as she monitored the day’s food rations. Her hair was still in a messy bun, the glasses with the lenses popped out rested squarely on her nose and she poured over an old clipboard.

  Apprehension washed across her face as she looked up to meet Nash’s gaze, a much different greeting than she’d given him on their first meeting. Nash stopped and looked backward toward Duncan, who smiled mockingly and waved at him from his chair.

  “Damn you,” he said under his breath, putting his hands in his pockets as he continued toward Melissa. He readied himself to do damage control, realizing what Duncan had done that morning.

  Melissa pulled herself back into the window as he came closer. “Hungry?”

  “Yeah, a little,” said Nash. He stood back from the truck to ease her nervousness. He had no idea what Duncan had told her and no idea how to act around her. She disappeared for a moment and came back with a handful of items. She placed some prepackaged food on the metal shelf, as well as a few pieces of fresh produce.

  “You grow food here?”

  “Yep, over behind the RVs,” she said as she pointed toward the back of the Treefort. Nash hadn’t had time to truly explore the Fort yet, but as he looked, he could see the people that worked a small patch of ground behind the RVs.

  Duncan sat on his chair and smiled as he watched the trouble he caused pay off.

  “Whatever he told you about me…”

  “He said you have been carrying a picture of me around with you.” She was stern with her words, but also nervous. “He made you sound like a bit of a pervert, to be honest.”

  Nash felt the embarrassment rush through him and his face turned a deep shade of red. He looked down and exhaled deeply. She must have sensed the embarrassment that rolled off of him She glanced toward Duncan, her features twisting into disgust.

  “I should have known better,” she said, leaning out of the truck toward him. “He has CREEP written all ove
r him.”

  “I do have a picture of you, he wasn’t lying about that. I’m not a pervert though. He’s the one who had a rolled up Playboy in his pocket when Sullivan found us.”

  She gave a soft laugh and looked back at Duncan’s now hardened face. “How’d you find a picture of me?”

  “A few nights back, a storm came through and we had no choice but to find somewhere to ride it out. It was your house.”

  A small flash of sadness fell across her face before she shook it away.

  “I always check houses for supplies and that’s when I found your picture. It was you on a camping trip.”

  “So you were in my underwear drawer then,” she said with a smile. “You’re not helping your ‘I’m not a pervert’ stance.”

  “I imagine I’m not,” he said, chuckling a little while he fidgeted with his hands. “I’d been traveling with Duncan, and only Duncan, for so long. It was nice to see someone else, even if it was just a picture. It’s a nice picture of you and it just reminded me of the times before everything happened.”

  She laughed slightly while she tossed her hair comically. “I just figured you thought I was pretty or something!”

  “I do.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. She stood with a red-faced smile, trying her hardest not to look away from him.

  The tension released a bit when Stu came trotting up behind them. He pretended to be riding a horse like a Civil War general. He galloped beside them and trotted back and forth, acting as if he fought for control of the imaginary steed. “Sir, you’ve been summoned to the war room.”

  Confusion settled over Nash as he watched Stu trot back and forth in front of them. “Me?”

  “That’s right, big guy! Sully’s orders!”

  Melissa giggled as Stu continued to guide the pretend horse. Sullivan stepped out of the war room and watched them, noticeably irritated by Stu wasting time.

  “No, seriously we should go,” said Stu, releasing the imaginary horse as he shrank from Sullivan’s gaze.

  “Thanks for the food,” said Nash as he grabbed the package she’d made him. She slid a chocolate bar across the shelf and smiled with a finger over her lips.

  “Come by later, I’ll show you around.” She slid the window shut and disappeared inside. Nash stood outside for a moment and smiled back at the empty window, his food in front of him.

  “Sullivan’s gonna ring my neck if I don’t get you to the war room,” said Stu as he stepped up beside him. “You can smile at the food truck later, Casanova!”

  The front of the war room was open and the security team was inside. The hot, sticky air assaulted Nash’s senses as Dianna zipped the flaps of the tent shut.

  Stu took his seat with a smile and watched Nash’s reaction to the stifling heat. “Should have warned you that it can get a little stuffy in here.”

  The members of the team flicked on battery-powered lamps, which lit a long table that spanned most of the length of the tent. Sullivan stood at the end of it, his head almost touching the top of the ceiling. The room glowed with the artificial light of the lanterns, illuminating a bag that sat on the table in front of him.

  “I know it’s hot in here, but it’s best to keep these matters private for now.”

  The long table formed the shape of a T. Stu and Dianna sat on each side of Sullivan. Nash took the last empty seat near two women and two men he hadn’t met. Sullivan opened the bag in front of him and dumped the contents across the tabletop. Red strips of cloth cascaded onto the wooden table, intertwined with each other like exposed intestines.

  “We’ve all seen these. You’ve been collecting them for a while now and we know nothing more about where they came from than we did when we started seeing them. I think it’s time we get to the bottom of it before it’s too late.”

  “What do you mean ‘before it’s too late’?” asked one of the men that sat at the table in a thick southern accent. He wasn’t very tall, but what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle. Everyone in the room came dressed for the day, but the man that questioned Sullivan sat shirtless, with black flame tattoos stretching down both arms. He had his boots on the table, chair tipped back slightly, tattered jeans frayed at the bottoms and a cowboy hat.

  “Before being brought into the Treefort, Nash and Duncan had been traveling the interstate out past the tree line. They had encountered one of the dead ones with a strip on its wrist. Nash says it was killed by a sniper.”

  Silence hung over the group as sounds of laughter and camp life crept in from outside.

  “Whoever fired the gun took two shots and we didn’t hear either one,” said Nash. “He missed the first time and then hit him right in the head on the second shot. Duncan and I took cover until we got chased into the woods by a pack of howlers…the fast ones, I mean.”

  “Howlers…I like that,” said one of the women sitting at the table.

  “I can’t help but think the sniper and the red strips are connected,” said Sullivan as he collected a handful of cloth in his hand.

  “What do you supposed we do?” said the shirtless man as he placed his feet back on the ground.

  “I think we need to send out a party to gather information. We’ve spent most of our resources on keeping the Fort safe and I’m wondering if there is another camp somewhere nearby. If we can find who fired those shots, we might be able to shed some light on the red strips.”

  The shirtless man stood up immediately and almost knocked the chair over behind him.

  “I was already going to ask you, Cole,” Sullivan sighed. “Nash, this is Cole Philips. I’d also like you to meet Eliza Barnes, who I’m also asking to join Cole and I on our expedition.”

  The woman who sat next to Nash reached over to shake his hand. She was slender, with thick red hair that popped out from underneath a thin beanie.

  “Hi,” she said in a squeaky, feminine voice. “Nice to meet you.”

  Nash could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra, which wasn’t much of a concern, as she was almost as flat chested as him. The plunging neckline of her thicker white tank top revealed the tattoos covering most of her arms and chest.

  “Welcome to the Fort,” Cole nodded from across the table.

  “Nice to meet you. I wish I had more information for you about the shooter but we didn’t see a thing.”

  “It’s okay,” said Sullivan. “We know someone’s out there, that’s a start. Hopefully, they’re friendly. If not, we need to be prepared. I plan on having a meeting with the Fort before leaving. I’m still not going to tell them anything about the red strips, but I think people around here need to be aware that we may not be alone.”

  “When are we leaving,” asked Eliza.

  “I’m hoping to talk to everyone within the hour and leave shortly after that. While I’m gone, Dianna and Stu are in the lead. I want to have more people involved in securing the Fort and the woods around us, so Scott and Meghan, I’d like you to spearhead that effort.”

  Scott and Meghan sat across from each other and nodded in understanding. It was clear to Nash that they were siblings. Meghan had short black hair and abnormally large blue eyes that sparkled like distant stars in the harsh lantern light. Scott had shoulder length black hair and a short beard, with the same striking eyes as his sister. They were both short and slender, with small features from head to toe.

  “Find a few people who you think would be good for security detail,” Sullivan continued. Until we have more people on our team, I want the two of you out there every day, monitoring the grounds.”

  “Understood,” said Scott, with an unusually husky voice.

  Meghan put her hand on Nash’s shoulder and smiled as Scott gave a small wave from across the table.

  “I don’t want either of you approaching any howlers, unless they pose an immediate threat to the Fort. If they have one of the red strips, just log it in your field journals. I want this to go as smoothly as possible while I’m gone.”

  “You�
��ve never encountered any other groups?” asked Nash.

  “No, actually,” said Eliza. “I’ve always found it strange, but we’ve never run into any groups larger than maybe five or six survivors.”

  “Nothing large scale, like us,” added Cole.

  Large scale, Nash thought to himself. He let the idea sink in. Fifty was large scale in today’s world – fifty used to be a child’s birthday party, not an entire community.

  “There’s another group out there, I feel it. The red strips are connected and we’re going to figure out how,” said Sullivan.

  The implications of the task at hand hung over the group while they sat in silence and pondered the pile of red strips on the table in front of them. Sullivan walked around to the front of the war room and unzipped the door, which let fresh air and sunlight bathe the inside of the enormous tent. “Scott and Meghan, can you please gather everyone at the meeting place. I’m going to bring the Fort up to speed before we leave. Cole, Eliza; meet me at the gate as soon as the meeting is done.”

  Everyone left the war room together, with the exception of Nash, Dianna and Stu. Through the opening in the tent, they saw the rest of the inhabitants of the Fort, going about their business as they enjoyed their day, unaware of the possible threat that loomed in the distance. Nash understood their level of comfort, as he himself had become accustomed to it quicker than he ever thought he would.

  “He’s really taking this seriously. I can tell he’s nervous,” said Stu, watching as Sullivan walked across the Fort to prepare.

  “He’s nervous; has been for a while,” said Dianna. “This was his world before everything happened. Conflict, strategy, war; he can smell it in the air. Something’s coming.”

  “Was he a soldier before everything happened?” asked Nash.

  “In some capacity, yes,” said Stu.