Haven From Hell (Book 3): A Young Man's Game

by Won, Mark

  Of course, all that cannibalism talk has nothing to do with murder. That’s a whole separate kettle of fish. The pleasure I took from killing the Bradbury family had very little to do with their cannibalism and very much to do with how they procured the viands which bent the board. Not really a subtle distinction at all, if you think about it.

  After Avery, Mr. Smith and, Kim buried all the bodies, including the contents of the freezers, everyone decided that we might as well move into the farmhouse. Mr. Smith and his wife took charge of leading the two cows out to pasture every morning and bringing them back every night. I recommended that June get the job of milking the animals since it seemed like the sort of thing she’d be good for. Kim helped her. Aria and Avery took turns keeping watch with the Winchester. Mr. Owen and I kept watch from inside the house. He got the day shift.

  The generator in the basement had enough fuel to power the house and fence for a few months, at least. We began to ration what we had left. In one of the cannibal’s rooms we found their stash of .44 caliber ammunition for the rifle, but none of it would fit bob. There was plenty of corn and hay in the barn, and Mr. Smith knew all about the farm machinery, so it seemed that all out food worries were over. That’s when the arrows started flying into the yard.

  The first one almost hit Avery. He jumped back and everyone else ran for cover. Tracer had told me there were strangers about and I had warned everybody, but nobody listened. I was already inside and keeping watch from the second floor when the arrow landed.

  I had managed to catch a glimpse of the shooter. He was some shabby dressed guy with a compound bow. He’d fired from the edge of the property, just outside the treeline, on the other side of the fence. The shot had been made from about two hundred yards away from Avery.

  Everybody kept their attention focused on the direction the arrow came from while I went across the house and kept watch on the side facing the road. No enemies appeared interested in pursuing an assault, which I found slightly disappointing. I checked the other approaches, still with no general attack under way.

  Eventually, Avery went out there and took a closer look at the arrow. It had a note wrapped around it. Now that was exciting! Just like Robin Hood! I couldn’t wait to read it.

  I still had to maintain my responsibility, though. I still had to stay on guard. I called downstairs to ask if anyone but me was keeping watch. Mr. Owen joined me and I asked him to try and watch the other two sides of the house.

  After what seemed forever, people started reacting in a more serious manner. Everybody came upstairs and took up position at a window. That’s when I finally got to read the letter.

  It read: ‘you killed the farmers that was here so now you got to give us food to. We no you got cows so you give us meet or else we come in at dark and kill you all and take the cows. Put 50 # by the mail box by dark or die’

  It was pure literary genius! I could hardly wait to meet the author. I called over to Mr. Smith, “So, what’s the plan?”

  One look and I could tell he didn’t have one. So I offered a suggestion, “I have an idea. If we do it right we could maybe come out ahead.”

  Right then Aria gave a little scream and I rushed over to see what had alarmed her. The archers had launched a volley of fire arrows directly into our crops. I was disinclined to rush out there and stomp the fires out. Fortunately, they burned themselves out without spreading a conflagration that would have destroyed our bounty. I had to conclude the fire arrow display was some kind of an implied threat. I also had to conclude that the archers were idiots. If they burned the crops that would mean less food all around.

  But, in a way, that was good for us too, because stupid people are easier to make die.

  Mr. Smith called out, “What’s your plan, Gideon? I hope it’s a good one.”

  “Relax, Mr. Smith. When have I ever steered you wrong?”

  He acquired a mildly surprised expression, “Actually, never, now that I think about it.”

  “That’s right. I did some searching through the cannibals’ rooms and found that they all had a secret stash of booze. I guess they didn’t want to share with each other. In Mrs. Bradbury’s room I found a bunch of alprazolam and some other goodies. You see where I’m going with this?” I was grinning by then. They all looked confused.

  Mr. Owen said, “We’re going to drug them.”

  “Bingo!” I was really getting into it.

  “What’s alprazolam?” asked Aria.

  I said, “That’s one of those drugs people with borderline personality disorders aren’t supposed to take.”

  About four people said, “Oh,” as if that little tidbit were especially important for some reason. Whatever, at least they were on board for a change.

  “Anyhow, we mix the dope with the booze and put it with the food we’re going to leave them-”

  Isabella cut me off, “You’re not going to hurt Daisy or Bessie are you?” She liked my names for the cows. I can’t blame her, I’m great at naming things.

  June looked like she thought a couple of dead cows might just be the solution to all her woes since then she wouldn’t have to milk them anymore. She was the laziest person I’ve ever met.

  I hastened to reassure Isabella, “And deprive June of the only work she’s ever done standing up? Don’t be ridiculous!”

  June’s face darkened visibly and I knew I’d scored another hit.

  Avery said, “That’s enough, Gideon. Ever since…we moved in… you’ve had it in for June. What’s going on between you two?”

  I was embarrassed. Without looking anyone in the eye I confessed, “After I saved her from getting attacked she called me a psychopath. I don’t like that.”

  Avery started to say something but I wouldn’t let him. “How come you people are all so dumb? I don’t mean you, Mr. Owen, or you, Isabella, or you Jeremy, because your just a kid. But the rest of you were all too happy to blame me for messing up things with a bunch of cannibals. Even June seemed like she was more willing to get raped than give up on easy meals.

  “And when Janet was going to murder me, where were any of you? None of you said a word. None of you lifted a finger. I think you would have been just as happy to let her kill me. You would have preferred it. I’m the one who got you out of the market. I’m the one who got you out of the town. Remember how I killed the ogres and ghouls for you? She and her dad would have had you all staring at empty shelves and starving right about now. But you would rather choose a couple of racists who despise you, over someone who wants to help you. So I ask again, and this time I really want an answer, why are you all so dumb?”

  Mr. Smith, a look of unusual concentration on his face, was the first to reply, “Because we didn’t understand what was going on, Gideon. We never did. Back at the market there was a pretense of civilization. Mr. Hawk and his daughter only implied violence, they never actually threatened anybody. It was easier to pretend.”

  Mrs. Smith broke in, “And, when you killed all those monsters at the market and on the road we...we were afraid. You’re a very dangerous boy, Gideon, and we were afraid. You’re so young...I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Aria, “When June came over to tell us what had happened in the barn, we didn’t understand. You don’t react like other people. You’re relaxed when you shouldn’t be. All this,” she motioned at the world in general, “just rolls off you like it’s just another Tuesday. We thought that you’d snapped and went too far. We thought that maybe Bubba,” that was goon #3’s actual name, “had gotten a little too close to June and you, being you, just killed him. We didn’t know about the attack.”

  June confessed, “I’m sorry, Gideon, I’m sorry,” she started crying, “I panicked, I shouldn’t have but I did. I don’t know what I was thinking! I blamed you for everything! I didn’t know what I was doing!”

  “And you’re sorry you called me that name?” That was the important part.

  She looked confused, “I am sorry for everything, Gideon.”
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  “And you’re sorry you called me a ‘psychopath’, right?”

  Everyone could tell that was a sticking point for me. She hastened to apologize.

  Avery said, “Obviously, we should have had this talk before, right after you explained everything out on the lawn,” he meant right after I’d cut Mr. Hawk’s head off, but he didn’t feel comfortable bringing that up. “I should have said something. I just didn’t know where to begin. And for that we’re all very sorry. None of us really understood what was going on with you, inside your head.”

  “That’s okay, Avery, sometimes things get a little messy up there.” I pointed to my head.

  I was feeling embarrassed by my outburst and wanted to put it all behind us. “So, anyhow, we don’t have any meat to give the archers, and I guess I don’t want to kill the cows anymore than the cannibals did. They give us good food every day, if you want to call milk ‘food’. Who knows? Maybe we can figure out how to make yogurt or something. Anyway, I don’t want to kill the cows and we threw out all the dead bodies, so what should we do?”

  Avery said, “We need to make them think that we’re doing our best to go along with them, so we have to give them something. Let’s give them some bags of corn instead beef.”

  Mr. Smith replied, “They might not like that; they were pretty specific. I think the safe bet would be to give them one of the cows. We can’t risk an attack.” Isabella and Jeremy cried out in protest.

  “I don’t want to take any chances either,” said Avery, “but we also don’t want them getting suspicious about being left any extra presents. I was thinking we leave them a nice note telling them they can have some more meat in a couple of days. In the meantime, to ‘make it up to them’, we leave the spiked booze in with the grain as a peace offering. What do you think?”

  Mr. Smith said, “I like it. But what if the doped booze doesn’t kill them all? Then what?”

  I raised my hand and Mr. Smith called on me. “I know the alcohol won’t probably kill them. My plan is for Tracer and I to track them back to their evil lair and bleed them out, tonight. Elegant in its simplicity, huh?”

  Mr. Smith and Avery looked at each other for a second before they seemed to come to some kink of unspoken agreement. Mr. Smith said, “Avery and I will go with you. We’ll hit them with everything we’ve got.”

  Aria wanted to know, “Why would they want to kill us for food when there’s plenty of corn filling the fields? Why did the Bradburys even resort to cannibalism?

  I replied, “My guess is that the bandits didn’t want corn, they wanted meat and knew that the farmers had some. Then the Bradburys decided to lure people in and use them instead. I’m pretty sure that the Bradburys developed a taste for it themselves. Even if we were to hand over all the chickens and all the cows and anything else around here, the bandits would still want more.”

  Mr. Smith added, “And when we can’t give them what we don’t have, they’ll kill us anyway.”

  So it was all settled. I wouldn’t have minded going alone but sometimes killing people with friends can be fun, too. If either of them were too noisy I’d have to tell him to go back. I got to mix all the medicine in with the whiskey and vodka, just like a science experiment from a TV show.

  A little before dusk the three of us carried out all the grain we intended to hand over. I got to carry the bottles of doom. We placed it all at the mailbox and then ran back toward the house. The moon was half bright, just how I like it. Not to full, which would have made sneaking up on the archers difficult, and not to new, which would have made it to hard for us to see. Then we waited, with me keeping watch.

  I made sure that all of our lights in the house were off while I peeked over a window sill. It only took about a half hour before the archers showed up to steal all out stuff. The light was fading fast and Mr. Smith was anxious to get after them.

  He said, “They took the bait, let’s go.”

  I told him, “It’s way too soon. I know they seem like idiots, but we should still wait at least a half hour before following them.”

  Avery asked, “Why’s that, Gideon? Shouldn’t we keep them in sight?”

  “Absolutely not! What do you think Tracer is for? As long as it doesn’t rain we can track those guys anytime we want. I want to make sure they’ve had plenty of time to take their medicine before we catch them.”

  “Are you sure about Tracer? Is he that good?” Mr. Smith was worried.

  “Actually, I could just do it myself, but it would take a little longer. Finding them is the easy part.”

  “And killing them is the hard part.” That from Mr. Smith.

  I said, “No, killing them is the fun part. The hard part is hauling anything of value back. I’m not looking forward to that.”

  Avery said, “You’re that confident, Gideon?”

  “Heck, yeah! If you guys want to take it easy I’ll get this done tonight, myself, no problem.”

  “No!” Mr. Smith was adamant, “We’ll finish this with you, one way or another.”

  After that Mr. Smith said goodbye to his wife for a long time. For cryin’ out loud, he was only going to be gone for a few hours, tops. I mean, seriously, how far did he think we’d have to follow them through the woods?

  Avery suddenly had a thought, “What if they have a car!” He seemed about to panic.

  Mr. Smith heard him and called over, reassuringly, “Probably not. They only wanted fifty pounds. That sounds more like an amount they intend to carry for a distance. I’m more concerned about how many of them we’ll encounter.”

  “My guess is twenty,” I said.

  Avery asked, “How did you come by that number?”

  “I counted the arrows they fired. Ten arrows at once means ten archers. That was probably all the archers they got. Anybody dumb enough to launch flaming arrows at a potential food source is pretty stupid, so they were probably showing us all the strength they had.”

  Mr. Smith, “So where do you get the other ten from?”

  “Oh that. I figure they must keep a few fighters back to guard prisoners and/or noncombatants. A 1:1 ratio doesn’t seem too out of line.”

  “What noncombatants?” asked Mrs. Smith.

  “I’m just guessing, but it seems reasonable to assume that there will be some women, perhaps a wife or two, and although unlikely, maybe even a child. Why wouldn’t there be?”

  Kim wanted to know, “What are you going to do with them?”

  “It depends.”

  “On what?” Kim wanted to know.

  “On whether or not any of them try to kill us. Some we might have to kill. Others we may have to bring back. Letting any live free would either be sentencing them to get torn apart or putting the knife right back on our own throats. So, we’ll see.”

  Aria said, “That still doesn’t seem fair.” Mrs. Smith seconded her feelings.

  Mr. Smith, looking over to his wife and son, “Better them than us.”

  I reassured her, “Don’t worry. I would never ‘judge the son for the sins of the father’. But ‘God punishes the children for the sins of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate him’. So it’s all good, don’t even worry about it.”

  By the time I was done explaining that to Aria it was past time to go. Unfortunately, we had another delay. Kim wanted to come along.

  He came up to us armed with a hatchet in each hand. He must have got them from among all the tools hanging up in the garage. He said, “I talked it over with Mr. Owen. He says he can handle things here and doesn’t need me to help stand guard.”

  I said, “Okay. Let’s go.”

  But Mr. Smith and Avery had other ideas. Avery said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Mr. Owen can’t watch out of all four sides of the house at once.”

  “Yeah,” Mr. Smith seconded, “With Aria on one side and June on another and my wife with the kids, we’re still short one lookout.”

  I said, “Mrs. Smith could be lookout on one side while loo
king after Jeremy and Isabella. How hard would that be?”

  Mr. Smith shot me a dirty glance. “It’s like this,” he said, “we don’t know what we’re getting into here, and Kim, you don’t look real athletic. No offense.”

  Avery added, “We’re only taking one gun,” he pointed to the pistol Mr. Smith was holding, “between the three of us. The rifle’s staying behind with Aria. Either we will get the job done quietly or we’ll have to run away.” Up until then I hadn’t even considered retreat as an option. The thought, literally, hadn’t crossed my mind. Avery continued, “And we don’t need a fourth. The three of us will have enough trouble as it is, moving around in the dark, keeping quiet.”

  Then June came over. She looked Kim over almost like she’d never seen him before. “Stay here Kim. You don’t have to go.” She thought about it for a second, then added, “I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay here, Kim.”

  The poor guy. With all those voices raised up against him he never stood a chance. It didn’t seem fair to me, so I decided then and there that if the chance arose I bring him back a prisoner to hunt. That kind of sport never gets old. It’s a good way to learn how to hit a moving target, too.

  I told him, “Don’t worry, I’ll save one for you.”

  With all that settled we finally got going. Tracer moved quietly in the lead as we followed the trail left for us. Our quarry had made no effort to move cautiously so the tracking wasn’t difficult. I kept a lookout for any ambushes but we had no trouble reaching the archer’s camp in good time.

  They had settled on an open spot in the woods which they’d surrounded with a bunch of sawed off tree limbs which they’d nailed between the trees, forming the world’s most primitive fence. Between the fence limbs they had strung some cord attached to empty food cans, which acted as a zombie early warning system. In the clearing the archers had put up a number of tents, twelve in number. There was one sentry but he appeared to be nodding off. The camp was pungent, like they all defecated inside the fence and forgot to use a shovel. It was fun time.