Isolation | Book 4 | Holding On

by Jones, Nathan

  As Ellie had said before, at the moment it was all they needed.

  ✽✽✽

  A few hours later, Ellie and her group had unpacked their stuff, eaten some soup and lemonade, and were ready to make the risky trip outside the barricades to retrieve the cache from the Norsons' shed.

  Cara and the Tolsons would be staying behind to watch the kids, leaving Ellie, Hal, Gen, and the Norsons to take a truck out the western roadblock for the precious supplies. They'd already contacted Nick, in person so Jay's people wouldn't overhear, and he'd agreed to be extra vigilant around the house while they were out there.

  Even so, Hal had insisted on going ahead to make sure Jay's people hadn't somehow snuck past Nick's sentries and were lurking around. Still flush with the warmth of the few moments of privacy they'd been given to break in their new bed, Ellie decided to go with him.

  He had his hunting rifle with him, while she'd grabbed a smaller rifle, one that looked military but was apparently a civilian version called an AR-15, from the small assortment of weapons Nick had included in the Norsons' basement cache. Its weight felt unfamiliar in her arms after all her practice with Hal's .308, but he'd assured her that she'd probably have a much easier time with the new gun as he showed her how to operate it.

  “Unless of course you have to clear a malfunction,” he said with a wry smile, as if telling a joke she didn't know the punchline to. “Just stick close to me so I can deal with that if it happens.”

  On that reassuring note, they'd set out.

  Now they were cautiously making their way from cover to cover, about a block ahead of the Norsons' truck as it crept down the street away from the western roadblock. Even though Ellie knew Nick and his patrol were somewhere out there protecting them, she still felt vulnerable as she scuttled after Hal.

  The closest thing she could compare it to was being back in Watkins, trying to hide from those monstrous robbers. Only here the most likely outcome of being discovered would be a bullet to the back from a hidden sniper.

  She might be dead before she even realized an enemy was there. With that in mind, she found herself ducking lower and running faster.

  Thankfully it was only a short walk, even moving slowly from one hiding place to another like they were, before the Norsons' house came in sight. She followed Hal into the yard, circling around to check their old camp as well as Nick's abandoned scavenger camp, as well as peering into the windows of the house to check for any signs of a break-in.

  It felt weird to be sauntering around on lawns and porches they'd been strictly forbidden from using, back when they'd still been in isolation for their 21 days. Ellie found herself fighting down an irrational feeling of guilt, and shook her head at the absurdity.

  They were confirmed Zolos-free now, even more so than when they'd first arrived after three weeks in a quarantine camp. They could even go into the house if they wanted to, and would be since there were a few things Gen and the Norsons wanted to retrieve while they were here anyway.

  Hal started for the observation platform he'd made up in the tree. “Go let the others know it's safe,” he called over his shoulder. “I'll keep an eye out on the area from up here.”

  Ellie nodded and hurried back to the street, waving at the truck idling just beyond the last intersection. It pulled forward, Gen waving out the window as they passed, and Bruce behind the wheel backed the vehicle in close to the shed.

  Maybe it was force of habit, but even though he could've backed right up to the entrance, instead he parked it on the border he'd marked around the building, back when Nick and Tallie had first lived there.

  That put the truck over ten feet from the door, which wasn't necessary since the shed had long since become safe. That was why they were here in the first place.

  Ellie was glad he had a few moments later.

  Gen was first down from the cab, making her way around towards the shed, and Ellie moved to join her. They'd just met up at the tailgate and started forward when the other woman abruptly stumbled to a halt, hand shooting out to catch Ellie's arm.

  They both froze a step past the quarantine border. “What is it?” Ellie hissed, fumbling to unsling the rifle on her back.

  Gen pointed. “The door's open a crack. Didn't Nick padlock it shut?”

  He had. Ellie had remembered the finality of the moment, the shed officially becoming off-limits for three weeks until the stuff inside was safe to take.

  She called a warning to the others and raised her rifle in shaking arms, pointing it at the door. Somewhere to her right she heard the sound of Hal hurriedly climbing down from the tree to join her, and Gen retreated back a few paces.

  Bruce, grim-faced, strode over and stooped to grab a discarded broom handle, which Ellie vaguely recalled had been used to deliver Nick and Tallie their meals. Moving cautiously, he edged close enough to wedge the end of the pole into the cracked open door, then with a heave levered it open further.

  Creaking, it swung wide to reveal the interior of the shed. Empty.

  Winn cursed, a surprisingly salty phrase from the normally sweet-tempered woman. Bruce, more pragmatic, simply grabbed his wife's shoulder and began ushering her back towards the truck's cab, looking around warily. “Come on, let's get out of here!” he snapped.

  Feeling numb, Ellie slung her rifle across her back again and climbed over the tailgate into the truck bed. Hal vaulted the side of the truck to join her just as the engine roared to life, and they held onto the sides as Bruce peeled out getting them back on the street and barreling back towards the barricade.

  Ellie clutched her husband's knee, swallowing a bitter sinking in her stomach.

  They could survive without the supplies from the shed if they had to, although it meant the group would need to find some other source of food within a month and a half or so, instead of the three they'd planned.

  Had it been Jay's people, sneaking around in the night looting the houses outside the barricades? Or some neighbor taking advantage of their absence to score some free goodies? Maybe even someone from the survivor patrols, snooping around on their route and helping themselves to whatever they found?

  She recalled Nick mentioning that Chase had an avaricious attitude towards scavenging, one her ex-husband strongly disapproved of. Although apparently the man was more interested in valuables than food, and anyway he seemed to have become a solid member of the scavenger group. Ellie didn't want to believe he'd rob his own friends of desperately needed supplies he himself would be benefiting from, at least not without proof.

  It didn't matter. Those supplies were gone, so they'd just have to account for that in their plans moving forward.

  Assuming Jay didn't burn down the entire town before then.

  Chapter Eleven

  Revenge

  Cooperativeness had earned the prisoners as many concessions as could be managed, considering they were still in the chain-link cage.

  First off, it had been draped with cloth to provide more shelter, including a privacy screen across the side facing the camp at large so they could look out if they wanted. Nick had also scrounged cots, sleeping pads, a lantern, and a few paperback books for the two former Wensbrook antagonists. He also visited regularly to chat with them, and brought them generous portions of the same food his own group ate.

  That's what he was doing now, delivering breakfast and shooting the breeze with Larry and Liza while they ate. He'd even opened the door so they could get out and stretch their legs. Closely watched by Val and Charlie, of course, who stood a wary distance away and didn't look in the mood for socializing.

  Well, even after several days there was more than a little resentment for the prisoners, in spite of the fact that they'd been nothing but contrite and cooperative. Nick had needed to chase off more than a few people who'd been harassing the two by rattling the chain-link fences or shouting insults and threats.

  Late one night a small group of drunken belligerents had even tried to break into the cage to get at Larry
and Liza. Nick wasn't sure what they'd planned, and they'd scattered before any could be identified, but it had been an eye opener about just how angry some people were at the Wensbrook defectors.

  Denny had been furious when he found out the next day, and had even gone so far as to move the cage with its prisoners next to the survivor patrol headquarters, where a dozen reserve fighters waited ready at all times. Then he'd chewed out the survivor camp's residents about being better than a bloodthirsty mob in the night, including an actually fairly stirring speech about justice and fair trials.

  That had been a couple days ago, and since then things had settled down. In fact, as far as Nick was concerned things were too calm.

  Six days since the attack on Jay's camp, and so far there'd been no sign of the Wensbrook fighters. Denny had sent scouts farther and farther out from town, especially around the burned camp, but they hadn't seen so much as a silhouette on a distant hillside.

  Which meant, going by Jay's previous pattern, an attack from him was due any time now. Even accounting for his need to scrounge new vehicles, weapons, and supplies after losing everything from the camps, it felt like he'd been inactive too long. Which was why Denny, Starr, and leaders from Stanberry had practically been pulling their hair out, trying to figure out how to counter whatever Jay had planned.

  None of them were so optimistic as to hope that Wensbrook had given up and left; Larry and Liza had warned there was almost no chance of that.

  As Nick stepped back from the cage door after opening it, Larry stretched and gratefully stepped outside, knuckling his back. “Any news?” he asked, apparently thinking similar lines.

  Nick shook his head as he handed the two bowls, full to the brim with oatmeal, honey, and raisins, to Larry and Liza. “All quiet as far as we can see.”

  The big man grunted. “Jay was a hunter,” he said, shoving a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth and speaking around it as he continued. “The deer always thinks it's quiet before the killing shot rings out.”

  Liza, busily eating her oatmeal, nodded in agreement.

  Nick shared uncomfortable looks with Val and Charlie. That comparison was an unpleasant reminder of Jay's sniper attack on Darrel and Darby. The idea of that bald maniac somewhere out there, staring down the scope of his rifle ready to deal out remorseless death, was a chilling one.

  Especially since the man had specifically threatened to kill Nick.

  “Any new thoughts on what he might be planning?” he asked.

  Liza just shrugged, still focused on her food, but Larry paused to think it over. “Well, to keep going with the hunter metaphor,” he said slowly, “I think he's in his element out on his own, rifle in hand, getting things done. Same as he did with your town's leaders. He might have something big planned, but I think now that he's really trying to hurt you guys you're going to see him sniping your people a lot more.” He shrugged to show it was just his opinion. “Honestly, I'm surprised he isn't doing that already.”

  That sounded like a nightmare. Although the silver lining of that cloud was that if Jay tried it, Denny's patrols might finally be able to chase him down and catch him, like they almost had when he sniped Darrel and Darby.

  Or maybe not; the guy was slippery and always had his escape planned.

  Nick sighed. There was no sense worrying when they were already doing everything they could. He motioned to the two defectors. “Want to take a walk around camp, stretch your legs?”

  The two hesitated. “Is it safe?” Liza asked.

  Nick motioned to Val and Charlie, who were standing together a ways off talking quietly. “It should be, in broad daylight with the three of us.”

  “I wouldn't mind a walk,” Larry said. “Beats being cooped up in this cage.”

  Nodding, Nick called to the squad leader manning the headquarters that he was taking the prisoners out for a while, then they began weaving through the tents, Larry and Liza eating as they went.

  A few people shot them hostile looks, but less than Nick had expected. It was no secret the two were providing information about Jay, and that went a long way towards generating some goodwill.

  After a while they reached the scavengers' camp, where the people not on patrol were cleaning up after breakfast. Tallie ran over to jump up into Nick's arms, giving the man and woman with him a wary look; probably not because she knew who they were, just that they were strangers.

  “We were just going for a walk, sweetie,” he said, kissing the top of his daughter's head. “Want to come along?”

  She nodded eagerly. “Shoulders!” Without waiting for an answer she began trying to climb up onto his shoulders, and he obligingly shifted around a bit to help her until she finally found a good perch.

  Then they set off again, heading for the border between the main camp and the survivors' camp. Nick figured while they were out and about they might as well have a chat with Starr, see if he'd come up with anything since last night.

  The old veteran wasn't there when they arrived, no surprise, although a passing woman promised to try to track him down for them.

  It was as they were waiting for a response that the radio lit up with warnings, followed almost immediately by gunfire in the distance.

  Although even so far too close for comfort; Nick could've sworn the shots were coming from just beyond the quarantine camp to the west, and the screams from the main camp seemed to support that guess.

  Biting back a curse, he pulled Tallie down from his shoulders, ignoring her protests, and shoved her behind him. Larry did curse as he stepped protectively in front of Liza, looking around frantically.

  Nick spotted Starr bolting past them among the tents, shouting into his radio as he headed for the southwest corner of camp. “What's going on?” Nick called after the old man, as the sharp crack of rifles in the distance was joined by sporadic return fire from closer by in the camp.

  Starr barely paused in sprinting past him. “Get on your radio, dipstick! And get your gun!”

  Flushing, Nick hastily grabbed his radio and turned up the volume, trying to sort out what was going on through the confused chatter. As he listened he hauled Tallie back into his arms and motioned curtly to the prisoners, as well as to Val and Charlie who'd finally come to huddle around him in the chaos, and led the way back towards the scavengers' camp.

  “If you don't have anything useful to report, get off the radio!” Starr growled through the speaker, punctuating his order with a blistering curse. “Someone who's got eyes on the attacker, what are we looking at?”

  “This is Hardy in the western sentry post,” a frantic man almost immediately responded. “We've got at least thirty people who must've snuck up to the camp in the dark and are now shooting at us from cover. They hit the southwest post first and have already shot at least two people . . . we need help here, now!”

  Behind Nick, Larry cursed. “Jay doesn't have thirty people from Wensbrook anymore. Those must be his Zolos-vulnerable recruits.”

  Nick immediately raised his radio, cutting into the chatter. “Statton here. Be advised our defector believes this is the Zolos-vulnerable recruits. Don't let your guard down everywhere else, Jay and his fighters might be unaccounted for.”

  “In that case gather everyone you can who's off duty and go guard the area east of camp,” Denny snapped. “I just sent all our patrols there around to reinforce the main camp.”

  “On it,” Nick said. “If you're off duty and on the radio, get your gear and head for the eastern sentry post.” He sped up to a run towards the scavengers' area.

  ✽✽✽

  Ellie sighted down her AR-15's sights, biting back a curse as she struggled to settle them on one of the attackers besieging the quarantine camp.

  Even with the rifle resting solidly on its bipod atop the south barricade, her arms shook so much that the distant figures jittered in and out of her sights, so small she could barely see them at almost two hundred yards. Especially since they'd had all night to find places with cover from bot
h the camp and the barricade, and were settled in.

  All things considered, it would take a miracle to hit anything.

  She'd always prided herself on being able to stay calm and in control in a crisis, whether it was unruly employees demanding answers back when she'd been a workplace cohesion consultant in another lifetime, or panicking people rushing the fences in a quarantine camp. But this was a situation she'd never been in, and honestly had barely expected to be in despite her shooting practices with Hal.

  She wasn't handling it well.

  For one thing, the enemy wasn't even shooting at her and she still couldn't seem to calm down enough to find a target. Part of her wondered if she'd even be able to bring herself to take the shot if she had it, to injure or kill another person, even though the attackers were trying to hurt the people she'd taken responsibility for.

  That reminder galvanized Ellie, and she grit her teeth and forced herself to begin squeezing off shots even though she didn't have a clear target; if nothing else, she might force the attackers down there to duck and hide from her bullets, keeping them from having any clear shots at Starr's fighters in the camp.

  At her side Hal fired shots off methodically, aiming through the scope of his big hunting rifle and working the bolt smoothly between each booming retort. Every four shots he ducked down behind cover and worked to feed the gun's internal magazine with shells from a box sitting nearby, then popped back up again.

  She hoped he was having more luck than she was; Starr's barking voice over the radio was becoming more and more desperate, his fighters' position so poor thanks to this surprise attack that they were having trouble returning fire on their attackers without getting shot.

  The small silver lining was that at least Jay's Zolos-vulnerable recruits couldn't do much to the camp either, thanks to the berm. The best they could do was keep shooting to keep Starr's people pinned down, at least until they ran out of bullets and had to retreat.

  That actually worried Ellie. Such a weak and poorly planned attack didn't seem like Jay's style, which made Nick's warning that the Wensbrook leader and his core of Zolos survivors might have something else planned all the more likely.