The Wensbrook leader, or at least the leader of those who were still with him, shuffled around on his knees to face Nick. At which point Nick realized the man still had a weapon, that big pistol he'd kept holstered at his hip ever since he'd first seen him.
“Statton,” Jay mumbled, giving him a weary, defeated sort of grin. “Of course it would be you. Anyone else would've just shot me in the back and ended this once and for all, but you're too softhearted for that.” He jerked his head towards the woods behind Nick. “Not like your pissed off friends out there. Especially after I burned down their house.”
Nick heard Chet make an angry noise from his position. Jay must've heard it too, because he casually lowered one hand to rest on his pistol's grip, unsnapping the holster's strap.
Nick tensed and moved his finger to the trigger. “Don't!”
“Easy, tough guy,” the bald man said with a smirk, although thankfully he moved his hand away from his gun again. A few inches, at least.
As Nick was opening his mouth to order the man to get rid of the gun entirely, Jay abruptly looked up at the sky. He was wearing an oddly detached, almost wistful expression. “Nice breeze today,” he murmured absently. Nick stared at him in bafflement as he continued. “My mom always used to say that a warm spring breeze will blow all your cares away.”
Jay's borderline serene behavior was deeply jarring, considering his attack was probably still going strong, and his best friend might be dying in the camp a few hundred yards away. It was obvious he was even more unhinged than anyone had thought.
Nick made his voice as gentle as he could. “It's over, Jay. Toss me the gun and we'll make sure you get a fair trial.”
The Wensbrook leader closed his eyes, face still uplifted. “Although I'm not sure she was right about that,” he continued as if he hadn't heard, “it would take a pretty amazing breeze to blow my cares away.” His expression became mournful. “Watching my family die, coming back to find my home, my town, desecrated like some tomb full of treasures to be carried off.” His face twitched into a shockingly intense expression of fury. “Betrayed by my best friend.”
The fury vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by grief. “Larry,” Jay mumbled. “I shouldn't have shot him, even after what he did. All those years of friendship, practically a brother to me, and that's how I leave it?”
“Jay,” Nick said, edging forward. “Come on. You sound like you're as ready as I am for this to all be over. Just toss me the gun and lie down on your stomach with your hands behind your head.”
The man opened his eyes and lowered his gaze to stare at him. “I am ready for it to be over,” Jay agreed, an exhaustion beyond merely physical weighing his words. “I didn't want to do any of this in the first place. I just wanted to go home and be left alone until I wasted away and was able to join my family in death. But what was left of my community, my friends, needed a leader, and nobody else was stepping up.”
This sounded like a more hopeful turn to the conversation. Nick moved his finger from the trigger and lowered his pistol slightly, although he stayed tense and ready in case the man made any threatening moves, and took another step forward. “Then let's let it be over.”
Jay tore his gaze away and stared at the ground between his knees. “A spring breeze won't blow my cares away,” he whispered, almost too quietly to be heard. “But this should.”
Nick was ready for trouble, but even so he was caught completely off guard when the man whipped his handgun free of its holster, almost faster than the eye could follow.
But rather than aim it for Nick, Jay lifted the weapon to press the barrel against his own temple.
“No-” Nick started to shout, tensing to lunge forward.
The crack of the pistol echoed deafeningly through the clearing.
Chapter Twelve
Victory
Ellie watched through the scope of Hal's heavy hunting rifle as the group of people attacking the camp abandoned their positions, piling into a ditch that gave them some cover as they fled.
They popped into view every now and again, and a few stumbled and went down from shots by Starr's fighters. At least until the old veteran's voice roared through a loudspeaker, clearly audible even at this distance, for his people to stand down and let them go.
She was relieved to see his orders were obeyed; those people might've attacked innocent people in the camp, but she didn't want to see them gunned down as they tried to run.
At her side Hal lowered the rifle he'd borrowed from her, looking relieved. “I think Jay's people are gone, at least along this side. Haven't seen anyone try to throw a Molotov in a while.”
Ellie felt tension bleed from her. She could hardly believe it was over, but she was willing to accept that for now Jay was done. “They might still be lurking around,” she said wearily. “How about you stay here and keep an eye out, while I go do what I can to help put out the fires?”
He nodded, expression grim. The firebomb attack could've been far worse than it was, thanks to even the last-second warning alerting Stanberry's sentries to the danger, but it was bad enough.
At least one house was on fire, and the barricade was a roaring blaze in at least six places she could see, judging by the plumes of smoke. Wisps of smoke in other places suggested either missed Molotovs or fires that had been dealt with in time, but there was a chance they could become a problem.
As she started to turn and hurry away her husband caught her shoulder, voice gentle. “Hey, you doing okay?”
Ellie fought down the impulse to give him a glib answer, turning back and reaching up to rest her hand atop his as she met his eyes. “I don't know,” she said honestly. “This was crazy. Those guys who burned-” She broke off with a shudder.
He pulled her into a hug, holding her tight for a few precious seconds. “I know, El,” he murmured. “But we're still here. We're okay. We'll get through this.”
She blinked back a burning in her eyes and reluctantly pulled back, nodding. “I'll come find you as soon as we get the fires sorted out.”
Leaving him up on the barricade, she rushed towards the nearest fire, where a handful of townspeople were rushing to and fro carrying water in whatever containers they'd been able to find.
She was almost to them, already planning how she'd organize the line, when Nick's voice interrupted the chaos on the radio. His voice was subdued, knowing him like she did she'd almost say he was deeply shaken, but in spite of that his quiet words cut through the shouting like a chef's knife.
“This is Statton in the eastern woods. Jay's down. I repeat, Jay is dead.”
Ellie slowed to a stop, staring at her radio in shock. Even knowing her ex-husband had been pursuing Wensbrook's leader, she could hardly believe he'd really got him.
Was it over, then? Most of Jay's Zolos-vulnerable recruits had gotten away, and so had a bunch of his Wensbrook survivors. But everything Larry and Liza had told them confirmed that Jay was the driving force behind this war, and most of the others were reluctant participants.
Or at least, they had been before things got really heated more recently.
Would the others keep the fight going with Jay gone? Elaborate as this attack had been, it had actually been more flashy than seriously damaging, and had ended disastrously for the Wensbrook aggressors. At least four of the firebombers had been killed, just along the areas of wall she could see or that she'd heard over the radio, and likely the count was higher than that. The people who'd gone after the camp had also lost at least half a dozen people.
And they'd previously lost their camp and a lot of their supplies and vehicles, so they were in a terrible position to keep fighting.
And Jay himself was dead.
Around her people had begun to cheer, celebrating the news that the man who'd caused them so much grief was gone. Ellie didn't join in, although she felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders as she continued forward to organize the firefighting.
It had to be over, didn't it?
/>
✽✽✽
Aimee didn't want to see the clearing where Jay had met his end. By all reports it had been a grizzly one, enough to make Ben empty his guts and Charlie flee back to their camping area.
But Chet was still there, apparently helping his brother and Nick dig a grave for the man who'd terrorized them for so long. Charlie had informed her that her fiancé wasn't in a good place at the moment; even with how angry he'd been at Jay, and how much he'd wanted to stop him, there were some things no one should have to witness.
From Charlie's downcast gaze, it was obvious he was equally shaken. Val and Tallie had been sitting with him when Aimee left, doing their best to keep him out of his own head.
It felt weird to just be sauntering out past the earth berm they'd made to protect themselves from Jay's goons. She knew some of those people were still out there, and Denny was keeping up a strong force of scouts to make sure they weren't still hanging around to cause trouble.
But with the battle won and Jay dead, Aimee had a feeling that the people who'd terrorized them for so long were finally going to leave. Go back to Wensbrook, maybe, or wander off to become looters and bandits. Some might even decide to stick around and try to keep raiding around Stanberry.
But without Jay's organization, their back was broken. They'd never be the same threat they'd been before.
She hoped.
There were plenty of people out in the woods. Some were taking advantage of the new feeling of safety to gather firewood, giving the clearing with Jay's body a wide berth. Others were searching for Jay's people who'd thrown Molotovs at the barricades, making sure they hadn't gone into hiding instead of running.
Aimee saw Ben walking back towards camp, looking sweaty and exhausted and carrying a shovel over one shoulder, and veered aside to meet him. “Have you seen Chet?” she called.
Her soon to be brother-in-law, who already felt like a brother to her, nodded and jerked his head back the way he'd come. “He's taking a breather on a log a ways back.” He forced a smile. “Guess in his old age he can't handle a little manual labor.”
She lightly slapped his chest with the back of her hand. “Hey, that's my fiancé you're talking about.” When he didn't respond with his usual easygoing grin she paused and gave his face a closer look, seeing the tension there. “Hey, you doing okay?”
Ben shrugged. “Jay got a bit too close to punching my ticket while we were chasing him. And then when he . . .” He trailed off, paling, and shook his head. “I hated the guy, but I wanted him to face justice. That was hard to watch.”
Aimee pulled him into a comforting hug, then glanced over his shoulder. “I should check on Chet.”
He nodded. “I'm heading back to camp to sleep for a week.”
She patted his arm and continued on, eyes searching until through the trees she spotted her fiancé slumped on a fallen log. His head hung low, and he showed no sign of noticing her until she settled down on the log beside him. Then he jumped slightly in surprise and looked up at her.
“Oh, hey babe,” he mumbled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “Sorry, didn't mean to make you worry and come all the way out here.”
“I wanted to be with you,” Aimee said, resting her head on his shoulder and snuggling closer. He was caked with dirt from digging, which had become streaks of mud from the sweat soaking his shirt and skin, but she didn't mind; she liked the smell of his sweat, and even his BO wasn't that bad.
Besides, even if he was covered in sewage, it wouldn't stop her from holding the man she loved when he needed her comforting presence.
After a few minutes of heavy silence she shifted to look up into his eyes. “It sounds like it was pretty bad.”
“It was messed up,” he agreed in a hollow voice, tearing his gaze from her to go back to staring at his hands. He shook his head as if trying to dislodge the awful memory. “Just seriously messed up, you know?”
“What happened?” she asked gently.
Chet took a while to reply. “After Jay started shooting up the camp it was all just a blur of running through the woods, ducking from tree to tree expecting to get shot any second. Then I spotted him dropping from the tree and running away and I started chasing him. We almost had him but he fired back at us, nearly hit Ben, and we backed off a bit.
“Then he tripped in that clearing, went down like a ton of bricks and his rifle went flying. After that he just knelt there, like he'd knocked himself out on his hands and knees, until Nick got there and started talking to him. After that . . .”
He shuddered and fell silent. From his posture it was clear that was as much as he wanted to say.
Aimee took his hand, squeezing it soothingly. “Why don't we head back to camp, honey? Ben was going to sleep, and that sounds pretty good to me, too.”
“Yeah.” Her fiancé seemed to come back to himself, nodding firmly as he pushed to his feet, offering her a hand up as well. “Yeah, that does sound good. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since this trouble with Jay started, but now that he's gone maybe I'll be able to.”
She wrapped her arms around him as they started back to camp, holding on even when navigating through the woods like that was awkward.
She was torn about the way Jay had died; part of her was glad that nobody she cared about had been forced to kill him, but another part of her regretted that they'd had to witness his grisly end.
Hopefully time would heal this wound as well, just like it had allowed her to recover her strength when she could barely twitch a finger after nearly dying from Zolos. Just another thing they'd survived in this messed up world since the pandemic hit.
With this nightmarish war with Wensbrook hopefully done with, maybe things could finally start getting back to normal. They could do their 21 days, move into her family's house in town since Chet's farm was burned up, and focus on getting on with their lives.
They could even begin planning the wedding.
✽✽✽
Not many folks would mourn Jay after everything he'd done.
Nick certainly had little desire to. But even though he wasn't in the least prepared to forgive the man, he still found himself pitying him for the miserable way his life had gone since Zolos, and the tragic way it had ended.
Buried in an unmarked grave, his followers scattered and his enemies celebrating the end of the chaos he'd caused.
Nick had no words to say over the grave, and he was too tired and heartsick to even offer a moment of silence. He just wanted to turn his back on this chapter of his life and go back to Tallie, make sure she wasn't too distressed by seeing Larry shot in front of her.
So he did, slinging his shovel over his shoulder and shuffling wearily back towards camp.
He found his daughter in Val's care, verified she was unharmed, and hugged her tight for a few minutes while reassuring her that the trouble was over and he wasn't going anywhere. After Tallie had calmed down a bit, they set out to find Denny and report in on what had happened.
It was a grim subject, but thankfully his daughter had dozed off in his arms by the time he found the leader of the Zolos immune fighters, returning from a patrol and making for the headquarters to organize the next patrol shifts before going out on another patrol.
Denny didn't seem keen on the details, just wanted to hear in person that Jay was dead. Once he had that, he filled Nick in on what the leaders in both camps and the town had come up with for a final tally of those lost I the fighting.
It was a grim one.
Sixteen of Jay's people had died: seven of his Zolos-vulnerable recruits and nine of the firebombers. Jay himself made that seventeen. Denny's patrols had also captured two wounded, one man from the Zolos-vulnerable recruits who'd taken a bullet to the gut and wasn't expected to make it, and one of the firebombers who'd apparently been severely burned when Hal had shot his buddy and the firebomber had dropped his own Molotov at their feet.
They were doing what they could for the gut-shot man in the main ca
mp, and for the burned man in the survivors' camp, but they didn't have the equipment or trained medical personnel to really help them outside of town.
Needless to say, Stanberry wasn't about to risk exposure to Zolos by letting them in for treatment.
In the camp, Starr had two dead and four injured, one seriously, among his fighters. Among the Zolos survivors Larry was in critical condition, although the shot hadn't hit anything vital and it was possible he would make it. Nick had dropped by to check on him and exchanged a few words with Liza, who looked as if it would take a bulldozer to budge her from his side.
Less lucky were the two other victims of Jay's sniper attack, the first a man in the northeast sentry post who'd been hit in the chest and died a few minutes later. The second was a woman who'd caught a stray bullet while shielding her two adopted children in their tent; she'd bled out before help could reach her, leaving behind the orphans she'd met and ultimately adopted while in the camp, who'd now been left orphaned again.
Another tragedy to lay at Jay's feet.
Stanberry had been more fortunate, since the firebombers had been focused on throwing Molotovs rather than shooting. One man had been shot, although the wound was minor and he was being treated, and eight people had been burned in the fires, two seriously, while dozens of others had suffered from smoke inhalation as they fought the flames.
All in all, it was a tragic loss of life. A shocking one, if you included the people who'd died in the Zolos outbreak caused by Jay's water balloon attack on the camp. And a pointless one, considering it ultimately came down to two towns arguing over their grievances.
Something that never should have happened.
With Denny's scouts out in force combing the area for lurking stragglers from the attack, and Wensbrook most likely reeling and probably done for good after their defeat and Jay's death, that afternoon Nick decided to risk bringing Tallie out of the camp for a long overdue visit to the rest of their family.
Isolation | Book 4 | Holding On Page 19