Trail of Blood

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Trail of Blood Page 10

by Michael McBride


  Death smiled, a serpentine grin filled with sharp, interlacing teeth. He would use God’s message to send one of his own. And there would be no mistaking his point.

  The wind shifted and blew a cloud of ash from the great pile of rubble. A single iron girder stood erect from the top. Eight feet tall and pointing straight to the heavens. Another, six feet long, was still riveted to it horizontally. In that fleeting moment, the sun parted the suffocating clouds and shone directly down upon it. The cross seemed to glow before the clouds closed in again, radiating golden rays as though imbued with celestial fire.

  If that was the best the Lord could do, then He had already failed. Death was no more frightened than he was intimidated. His message would be far more direct when the time came.

  Oh yes, when the time finally arrived, the golden gates would shake with the screams of the damned.

  VII

  Mormon Tears

  THEY ALL STOOD ON THE CLIFF INSIDE THE CAVERN, WONDERING WHY THEY were being forced to leave and if they would indeed ever see it again. The torches had been extinguished in favor of the battery-powered lanterns arranged beside the cold remains of the fire and along the face of the pueblo. The prospect of killing all of the lights had lent an air of finality they all sought to avoid, like each had done in their own way before beginning their journey to Mormon Tears. Leaving the lights on may have been of metaphorical comfort, but should they return, it would be the welcomed comfort of home.

  Everything deemed necessary had already been loaded into the semi-trailer, leaving enough room for a handful of them to ride beside. Each said their own private prayer that there would be enough gas in the tank to reach Salt Lake City, knowing that with the congestion of stalled cars on the roads, it wouldn’t take them any farther anyway. There was no plan from there, though hopefully they would be able to formalize one before they made it that far. Phoenix insisted that the majority of their trek would be off road, but that they would be able to accomplish a good measure by vehicle. Either way, they all battled through some amount of shock and fear as they said goodbye to their home and prepared to set out toward Lord only knew where to confront some faceless evil that would likely mean their deaths.

  “Time to go,” Adam said, unable to hide the quiver of doubt in his voice. Without another word, he turned and started down the tunnel to the outside world. One by one they followed, none wanting to speak for fear they would lose their own resolve and threaten the tenuous grip the others maintained on theirs.

  Sunlight reached through the mouth of the cave and into the stone corridor, lighting the floor like a yellow carpet leading them onto the beach. The sun was well above the eastern horizon now, the day far too tranquil to even contemplate the dark task ahead. Waves shimmered as far as they could see, though none chose to look at the black carcasses rimming the shore. It was the most beautiful day any of them had seen in a long time, almost like God Himself had created it just for them.

  Don’t make us go. Please…don’t make us go, Jill pleaded silently, but refused to give the words voice and instead squeezed Mare’s hand. He offered her a weak smile in return, but was unable to make eye contact. Before, they had been running away from something bad in hopes of finding salvation at the mystical Mormon Tears, but now they were leaving sanctuary to do battle with a foe who promised only suffering. It was a nightmare from which neither could find a way to awaken.

  But it wasn’t a day for mourning or pity; it was a day of destiny.

  They followed Adam over the slope and into the channel between the mountains where the semi waited. Ray tripped and fell but assured them he was okay with a pained smile and wave of his hand.

  Mare released Jill’s hand and climbed up onto the fender of the trailer, framed by the open doorway, and offered his hand to Jill to help her into the bed. As soon as she was safely aboard, he reached for his sister and assisted her as well. Phoenix climbed up on his own and stood beside Mare, staring through sad eyes over the rubble toward the faint blue glint of the landlocked sea.

  Jake climbed through the passenger door and into the cab, clambering behind the seats into the cargo area behind and sat on a foldout jump seat. Ray eased up behind him and slid between the seats beside Jake, scooting a beat up old toolbox out of the way so he could drop to his rear end, tucking his knees to his chest. Evelyn followed, plopping down in the passenger seat and tugging the seatbelt across her chest. She closed the door and looked straight ahead toward the salt flats. Adam was the last in after making a final cursory inspection of the vehicle to ensure that everyone was on board. He settled into the seat and slammed the door, the sound echoing with an air of finality like a gunshot. Latching his seatbelt in place, he cranked the key and the engine grumbled to life. The whole truck shuddered.

  He looked at Evelyn with a nervous expression even his best efforts couldn’t hide, and clasped the gearshift. Her hand settled atop his and she offered a pained smile.

  “You ready to do this?” he asked as she brought her hand back to her lap. He eyed the needle of the gas gauge as it settled at just over a quarter tank.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, turning her attention back to the track of smooth stone and the vast expanse of white ahead. “Think we’ll ever see this place again?”

  Adam didn’t immediately answer as he ground the stick forward to the tune of metallic protests. “Yeah,” he said as the truck rolled forward, gaining momentum on the packed sand. “I think we will.”

  A cloud of dust rose from the rear wheels, swirling in the truck’s wake. Jill took one last mental snapshot of the lake before it was swallowed by the dirty haze and scooted back away from the open door, looking for anything at all to grasp for leverage, but there was nothing except the scuffed aluminum floor and the smooth walls. Mare took her hand, and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder. She was going to have to tell him sometime. While it may seem irrational, she was certain that they had conceived. There was nothing logical about the assumption. No palpable swelling of her belly or irrefutable sign from above. Just what? Intuition? Either way, soon enough she was going to have to tell him he was going to be a father. Not now, though. Not yet. He had enough to worry about. They all did. She couldn’t help but think of the words the preacher had said before they lowered her mother into her grave.

  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.

  That felt like exactly what they were preparing to do.

  She closed her eyes and the vision her ancestral grandmother had sent her was right there. The child in her lap stared back up at her, filled with wonderment and life. Her daughter flashed the grin she inherited from her father, and Jill felt a warm, tingling sensation wash over her.

  Would you sacrifice everything for the child? a voice whispered in the rush of air behind, as the truck sped away from their home.

  “Yes,” Jill whispered in response, the hint of a smile crossing her lips.

  She was no longer afraid.

  VIII

  MISSY FELL ASLEEP AGAINST HIM SOMETIME AFTER THEY REACHED THE highway. Progress was slow, as it had been on their return trip from the city only the night before. Phoenix watched the stalled cars fall away behind them on the unending strip of asphalt as they wound through the automotive graveyard. He traced his fingertips over her forehead. She was so beautiful, even in sleep. He wished he could be inside her head so he could share her dreams, to make sure that they stayed as perfect as she was. After all, surely he endured enough nightmares for both of them. He knew where they were going. He had seen it clearly in his dreams and had felt the evil emanating from it before they had passed over the mountains on their way to Mormon Tears. The man—if indeed he could still be considered such—who waited for him there was just like him, only not. Phoenix couldn’t pin down the idea well enough to even clarify it for himself. The man masquerading under the guise of Death had been chosen, like him, for the battle to come. They were two sides of the same coin; that much he understood, b
ut there was more to it than that. They were the same. They were different. A confusing dichotomy of destiny, as though they both walked blindfolded on separate branches of the same path, the decision at the fork made for them, whether by fate or by God.

  Phoenix pitied him, but most of all he feared him. Feared what was going to happen when they arrived. He was terrified that he wasn’t going to have the strength to do what was necessary when the time came. His heart was his weakness, and in his heart were his feelings for Missy, feelings so strong that he would have to make the choice between her love and her life. And pain. His body positively trembled in anticipation of the sheer agony that he knew waited over the mountains. Dear God, the pain promised to be more than he could endure.

  “What’s wrong?” Missy asked, watching the single tear run down his cheek. He hadn’t noticed her stirring.

  “Nothing,” he said, stroking her cheek. “Nothing at all.”

  She sat up and looked out the back of the trailer at the slalom of stalled cars, some still containing the black bodies of those who had died within. There were housing developments and buildings to the side of the road now, signifying the western edge of town.

  “You’re an awful liar,” she said, looking back at him. He had already wiped the tears from his pink eyes and assumed the unreadable expression he always wore.

  He smiled, took her hand, and held it tightly in his lap. “We all have a cross to bear,” he said at last, leaning over and kissing her on the top of her head.

  Missy knew that was the end of the conversation for now, but she wouldn’t forget. She would make him open up sooner or later.

  The semi weaved through the snarl of traffic, the unmoving cars growing closer and closer together, and worked its way through the right lane and onto the shoulder. The bed tilted downward as they ascended an off-ramp lined with billboards advertising everything from hotels where you could stay for as little as forty-nine dollars per night to a car dealership that had the largest selection in the west and refused to be undersold. They coasted to a halt at the top of the ramp, the right tires completely off the road to avoid the logjam of vehicles. The engine sputtered the last of the gasoline fumes and died.

  “I guess that means we’re here,” Mare said, scooting to the edge of the trailer and hopping down to the ground. He reached back up and Jill slid down into his arms.

  As Missy climbed down, she couldn’t help but notice that Jill looked somehow different. Was she coming down with something? Her cheeks were flushed and her were eyes brighter, more radiant.

  Adam walked around the side of the truck, stretching his arms over his head and arching the kinks out of his back. The others joined him from the opposite side and they all stood behind the open trailer, looking back to the west where they could only see the faint hint of blue water in the distance.

  “So what now?” Missy asked.

  “There are a bunch of car dealerships over there,” Evelyn said, gesturing to the south. “I’ll bet we can find some easier mode of transportation.”

  “Take only what you can carry,” Adam said, climbing up into the trailer. He tossed down blankets stuffed with clothes and food, cinched off with lengths of rope. There was one for each of them, each serving the dual purpose of toting the necessities and providing the nighttime warmth they were sure to need along the way. He wished he had been blessed with the foresight to grab some actual hiking backpacks so they could bring sleeping bags and maybe even a tent, but there had been a part of him that fought the notion that they would indeed have to leave their sanctuary. They were fortunate to have what they did.

  When he had tossed down the eighth and final satchel, he passed down the guns.

  There were only five of them: four shotguns and a rifle. He hadn’t counted them in his hurry to get out of the hotel. With all of the blood and the hideous mound of bones, he considered himself lucky to have even had the presence of mind to grab them at all. It would have to be enough. Jake was too young and small to be struggling with a twelve gauge, and with Ray being blind… That left five weapons for the remaining six, and seeing how, of the girls, only Evelyn and Missy had even fired one before, they would already be more heavily armed than he was truly comfortable with. At least the guns had been equipped with shoulder straps. That was about the only stroke of fate working in their favor.

  Adam slung the rifle over his shoulder. He wasn’t the world’s greatest shot, but with so little experience, the others would want the wide pattern the shotguns provided to minimize the need for accuracy. If they needed it, and he definitely prayed they wouldn’t.

  He scooted the box with all of the shells and bullets to the edge of the bed and hopped down.

  “Each of you stuff your pockets with as many of the red shells as you can fit,” he said, filling the side pockets of his camouflaged cargo pants with the remaining half-case. There were only two boxes of shotgun shells, and one of them was already opened. It looked as though each of them maybe took seven or eight total. He didn’t want to think about how few shots that gave them in a pinch, but if things truly got bad, they would be extremely lucky to be able to reload after spending the three shots in the chamber anyway.

  Adam surveyed them as they stood there, packs slung over one shoulder, guns over the other. Missy had taken one of the shotguns, leaving Jill with only a bundle of goods. Jake struggled a little with his, shifting it from one side to the other, but Ray seemed to have adjusted nicely. They all looked back at him, waiting for him to give the word. It was a measure of power he didn’t want, but one he had no choice but to reluctantly accept. He tried to think of something motivating like one of his squad leaders in the army might have said, but came up blank.

  “Well…let’s get this show on the road,” he finally said, and with that turned and headed down the street, listening to their scuffing footsteps on the gravel shoulder as they fell in behind.

  Chapter 4

  I

  Highway 40, Utah

  THERE HAD BEEN A FIELD AND SKI SHOP PAST A COUPLE CAR DEALERSHIPS. With the Jet Skis and watercraft out front, they would have walked past it, were it not for the fact that Jill caught a reflected flash of chrome from behind the showroom. Adam had initially been looking for some sort of all-terrain vehicle small enough to weave through and around the eternal traffic jams, but had been surprised to learn that almost all of them knew how to ride motorcycles. In the enormous lot, past the showcases of speedboats and fishing trawlers, beyond the rows of four-wheeled ATVs, they found a small fleet of used motorcross cycles. They had obviously seen better days, with all of the scrapes and gouges through the paint, but the engines had come to life with a turn of the key, and that was all that really mattered.

  Progress was slower than any of them would have liked, even though they were in no hurry to reach their destination, which was still a vague notion at best. Between Jake’s dreams and Jill’s visions, they were able to establish that what they were searching for was a giant black tower lording over total destruction. All Phoenix had been able to add was that it was on the far side of the mountains and that there would be no mistaking it when they saw it. It was maddening, speeding off toward who knew what in a monolithic structure none of them knew how to find. What were they supposed to do when they arrived? Just storm through the doors and start shooting? That seemed unlikely. They could all tell that Phoenix was holding something back from them, but no amount of coaxing could draw it from him. All would be apparent when the time came, he insisted.

  God, Adam hoped that was true.

  They traveled in a single file along the shoulder of Highway 40, heading southeast into the foothills toward the rising blue peaks, mere hours ahead of the slowly setting sun. Adam rode in the lead, on a lime green motorcycle with a big number three on the front, trying to simultaneously navigate the cars and trucks crumpled in the roadway and askew across the shoulders without looking at the decomposing bodies within and constantly glancing over his shoulder to make sure the others were s
till close. He rode uncomfortably erect, thanks to the plastic gas tank strapped behind him on the seat with a pair of bungee cords, his bundled pack bound on top of it. Evelyn rode twenty feet behind him on a matching cycle, Jake clinging to her from behind. He leaned his head against her back so he could see off the road to the right, where cars spotted the slope leading down to wide, pine-rimmed meadows, his arms so tight around her waist that she thought her bladder might pop. There had barely been enough room behind him to tie down their bags, leaving Evelyn to maneuver with the shotgun across her chest. Mare followed in her wake with Ray holding on behind. Once upon a time, he had been an excellent rider, back when his mother had been alive and his father cared enough to take them into the hills to scream around the dirt tracks. He grinned as he slalomed around the cars, reveling in Ray’s instinctive reaction of tightening his arms across his gut, knowing he should take things more carefully, but having too much fun to change his approach. Ray wore Mare’s gun over his back, the metal pressing too hard against his spine with their packs roped down behind him. Missy tried to stay right on their tail, but her brother was incorrigible. Phoenix leaned against her from behind, his long dirty hair flagging on the breeze, both of their guns crossed on his back in a great black X, the stocks forming a wooden triangle in front of their bundled goods. Jill brought up the rear, struggling with only the reserve tank of gas and her pack, the weight causing her to fight for balance on the neon orange motorcycle, which wasn’t nearly as nice or as easy to handle as the one on which she had crossed out of Oregon, which felt like a million years ago now.

  The city proper faded behind them, the clustered buildings of downtown growing smaller and smaller. The homes to either side grew farther apart and fell back away from the road until even the suburbs became a memory as they climbed into the heavily forested hills. They would only be able to go so far before refueling, and even then there were only ten gallons between the two reserve tanks. Lord only knew when they would come across the next gas station with the mountains rising menacingly ahead. Though the thought remained unspoken, they all imagined there would be sections of highway where they could end up pushing the heavy bikes up the asphalt slopes and coasting down the other side.

 

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