Allister said nothing. He was so angry he couldn’t speak. What he wanted to do was cut every man loose, and wave goodbye to the slave trade. He knew he couldn’t do that, not yet. They needed to get back to the old border that used to separate the United States from Canada and trade every last slave they had. Whichever ones didn’t sell, it was easy just to kill them. Then he would retire to a nice little corner and watch the corpses kill everyone.
As he paced by the last truck, the newest slave kept giving him that hard look. Allister never looked at the slaves. He didn’t really consider them people. For some reason, the newest slave got under his skin, and he wasn’t sure why.
He stopped by the truck full of corpses and fired off four shots from his pistol. The rest of the men flinched as the corpses collapsed on top of each other.
“I want to know who helped with this last night,” he said. “The gate didn’t just close itself.”
No one said anything.
“If you want to fuck the slaves, fine. I don’t care. But you kill them, you take food out of my mouth. So, again, who was part of this?”
Silence.
He stopped in front of the last truck, Aaron’s truck. As always, they kept the children near the front. Aaron and Charlie said nothing as they leaned against the bars. Aaron knew he could spot Keller if he saw him, but he didn’t know his name. Only Charlie knew, and he wasn’t talking.
“I know you saw,” Allister said, looking right at Aaron. “I know it was you making all the noise. Who was it?”
He said nothing. He just kept his eyes locked on Allister.
Allister finally figured out what it was about the young man that unsettled him. He wasn’t afraid. The camp was full of people that were afraid of him, even his own men. Whenever he passed by someone, they would dip their head or lower their eyes.
But not Aaron.
Allister needed to get everyone back to the border in one piece. He needed them to behave, plain and simple. He thought the six walking corpses he left chained up in the center of their camp would have deterred unruly behavior. Obviously, he was wrong. He needed another example, and Aaron would serve that purpose.
He gestured to two of his men whose names he didn’t know. Allister pointed his gun at Aaron after they opened the gate.
“Get down.”
Amanda wrapped her arms around his waist. “No,” she whispered.
Aaron patted her on the head and pulled himself free. “It’ll be okay.”
He stood in front of Allister. He was so close, just an arm’s length away from avenging his family. He could do nothing, not with forty men standing around with guns.
Allister pistol-whipped Aaron across the face.
He dropped to one knee. Allister circled around him.
“Who was it?”
Aaron truly didn’t know, but he wouldn’t utter the words. He wouldn’t say another word to Allister until he had his hands wrapped around his throat.
The beating continued for a few minutes. Charlie wanted to say something, but he was too afraid. He had Amanda and Derek to think of, and he could only imagine what the other slavers would do to them if he gave one of them up. Allister tried to control the men, but Charlie knew they were all out of control, except for Gibbons.
Aaron was on his knees, still looking defiantly at Allister. Allister stepped forward and kicked him square in the face.
“Get some rope,” Allister announced. “We’re gonna play a little game.”
Two men hauled Aaron to his feet. He spit blood to the ground. He’d just recovered from the beating he took on his first day at camp, now he had to deal with another. A few men tied two pieces of rope around his waist.
Charlie started shaking the bars. He knew what Allister had in mind. He’d seen it before. He couldn’t let Aaron die such a horrible death. Even Derek was scared.
“It was Keller!” Charlie shouted. “It was dark, but I’m pretty sure it was Keller!”
Allister laughed. “It’s a little late for that now. Shit, we’ve already got the rope tied. But grab Keller, he’s next.”
He signaled, and the two men holding onto Aaron began to pull him by the rope. The rest of the slavers started cheering and whistling. They cleared a path to the chained corpses.
They’re gonna feed me to the walkers.
He tried not to smile.
His chance had finally arrived.
He looked around quickly while digging his heels in the ground. He was still weak from the beating. He needed time.
“Please, wait!” he shouted. He tried to sound desperate, even though the corpses didn’t look at him.
“Let’s place bets on how many times we’ll hear that!” Allister said.
Aaron searched around as they dragged him back another few feet. He could finally see the entire camp. Three men had grabbed Keller and were kicking him on the ground. They were in the middle of the yard. No matter which direction he chose, it would still be a long run to the fence. Climbing the fence wouldn’t be fast either.
His eyes fell on some crates against the rear fence. That was his best chance.
He met Charlie’s gaze. He was trying to shield Amanda from what she was about to see. He saw the rest of the slaves he’d never met watching from behind bars. Only the slaves and Gibbons looked horrified. Everyone else was having a fun time.
Aaron dug his heels once again in the ground, to plot out his escape. His only immediate danger was the slavers realizing the corpses were more interested in them than him. He leaned forward and tried to crawl on the ground.
“Allister! Listen to me!”
Allister smiled. The men took his advice and were placing bets now. Some bet on how long it would take for the walkers to kill him. Others bet on how much he would beg. Allister was pleased. This would teach a lesson about staying in line, and let the men blow off some steam.
Aaron was blinded by a light.
He glanced to his left. In the trees, just a short distance behind the rear fence, was a flash. It disappeared, then hit him again in the eyes.
Someone was signaling him. He had a good idea of who it was.
“Please, stop!” he shouted, more for his accomplice’s benefit than his own.
He gave one final look around camp. Most of the men had holstered their weapons.
Allister knelt down in front of Aaron. He made sure to keep his distance. The walkers stretched and reached for the camp leader, but to everyone, it seemed they were reaching for Aaron.
Aaron struggled against the rope, which made it hard to breathe.
“Nothing personal, young man,” Allister said.
Aaron looked up at him. Something scratched at the back of Allister’s mind. His instincts, which had kept him alive from the very beginning, were telling him something was wrong.
Through the bloody nose, swollen eyes, and bruised jaw, Aaron gave Allister a bright smile.
“You don’t know me at all, do you?”
Allister did not. He looked at the young man through narrowed eyes.
“You have no idea how personal this is.”
Allister had had enough. “Kill him!”
The men pulled the rope with all their strength. Aaron surprised everyone by turning around and running directly at the walkers. They made no move for him as he passed by. He grabbed the first person in the crowd he saw and tossed him back into the hungry undead. The slavers let go of the rope.
Aaron heard screams of pain as he ran through the crowd toward the fence. He dragged the rope tied to his waist behind him, slowing him down. He was almost to the fence, but he could hear the confusion behind him disappearing as Allister shouted at everyone to grab their weapons.
They never had the chance to fire.
Aaron heard the explosion and felt the heat at his back as he raced for the crates near the fence. Men behind him shouted and jumped behind any cover they could find as the first drum of gas exploded. He was halfway over the fence when the second larger drum near the f
ront gate went up in flames.
Men dove for cover while others caught on fire. They rolled on the ground to try to put out the flames.
He shed the rope from his waist and stayed low in the trees. He tried to head in the direction he thought the light came from. He could see the slavers gathering more weapons when he heard a voice above him.
“Aaron! Up here!”
He looked up to the treetops and saw the light signaling him. He slowly pulled himself up using the sturdy limbs. Every movement brought pain. He could feel the blood still oozing out of his nose.
As he neared the top a hand reached out and clutched his wrist, helping him the rest of the way. He straddled the limb and leaned back against the tree. Squatting on the limb just a foot away was Sam.
He didn’t know what was happening until he felt her hugging him. She kept one hand on a higher limb for balance, and the other around his neck. He could feel her breath in his ear.
The world stopped for a moment as he wrapped a free arm around her. He was conscious of keeping balance, and how high up in the tree they were, but it felt great to hold onto Sam.
She pulled back to look him in the eye. She saw the blood and bruises, and her face went cold with anger. She nimbly jumped to a nearby limb, where her bag of weapons hung. She grabbed her rifle and took careful aim at another barrel of gas.
Aaron stopped her with a frantic wave of his hand. “Not yet.”
Sam shouldered the rifle while he took another look at camp. They’d recovered from his escape and were searching the woods. Every walker in the yard was dead. He had trouble seeing, but he could see the rest of the slaves talking in the four trucks.
He looked beneath them. He wouldn’t have seen Sam in the trees at all if she hadn’t signaled him with an old mirror she’d found. They were as high as they could go and were surrounded by plenty of green. They were safe.
Aaron and Sam stayed silent for over an hour. Allister’s men searched all around them. They cursed and yelled at each other. He noticed that despite all the noise, no walkers showed up. Allister definitely picked a good spot for his camp.
In the early afternoon the slavers finally gave up their search. He watched as Allister paced around camp. Aaron knew he’d gotten under the skin of the slave camp leader when he murdered Keller in cold blood in front of everyone.
He looked at Sam. He wasn’t surprised at all with her preparation. Multiple weapons, thick, tight clothes, and bottles of water she constantly handed to him.
“At nightfall, we’ll head out of here,” she whispered. “This place is buried in trees, but there’s actually houses not too far away. I parked there and snuck over here.”
“No walkers?”
“Very light. About four streets over is the main road. Plenty of them there.”
“How did you find me?”
She smiled. “Scott did. He ran into some slavers trying to make a deal.”
“How’s Travis?”
She gave him a confused look. Despite everything, Aaron was worried about someone else. “He’s fine.”
He nodded. “Good.”
“Are you okay? You have enough strength to leave?”
“Yes, but we can’t leave yet.”
“Why not?”
“There’s people in there that need our help. You see them in the trucks?”
“Aaron, listen, I’ll be honest. I don’t care about them. I came here to get you. And now I have you. That’s all I care about.”
His face took on an expression Sam hadn’t seen before. He was angry.
“There’s another reason. The man running the camp, he’s the one who killed my family.”
Sam was quiet. She could see Aaron’s determination. She wanted to go home. She wanted to eat dinner with Aaron, listen to him read, watch a talking picture, hold his hand, sleep next to him. Maybe even kiss him.
But he wasn’t ready to leave yet. So she would stay with him. She knew she would always stay with him.
“What do you have in mind?”
Aaron smiled. Sam felt her heart beat harder. She had missed his smile.
But this smile had something else in it. Something sinister.
He thought back to Allister leaving his family as bait for the undead. The sounds of the horrific rape, not even a night ago, flashed through his mind.
A very simple plan formed in his mind.
“They don’t know who they’ve pissed off.”
“Well, whatever you got in mind, you’ll need this. Sorry, couldn’t find a bow and arrow.”
She tried to hand him a gun, one of her Berettas. He waved her off.
“I’ve got better weapons. I’m gonna be gone a couple of hours.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Yes. Listen, when the shit starts, I need you to cover the trucks. Don’t let anything happen to anybody in there. Okay? And there’s one slaver that’s alright.” He used her binoculars to point out Gibbons. “Try to cover him.”
He made a move to scale down the tree. She grabbed his arm before he could leave. “What are you gonna do? There’s a lot of people with guns down there.”
“They don’t have a chance.”
“Don’t get yourself killed. We have a lot to talk about.”
He nodded, then slowly worked his way down the tree.
* * *
Sam sat in the tree the rest of the afternoon, into the early evening hours. She watched the camp as they prepared for night. They sat around tables, ate dinner, played cards by candlelight. While they feasted and enjoyed the night, someone gave the slaves in the trucks a single bottle of water to share. Her anger started to rise again, thinking of what Aaron had to endure.
Where the hell are you?
She started to worry as she stretched her legs. It was completely dark. The only light came from the candles and torches in the camp below. The wind blew through the trees, giving Sam goosebumps. What was Aaron doing? He should have been back by now. Why was she foolish enough to let him run off by himself?
She knew the answer to the last question. She believed in him.
She wondered how he was alive in the first place. He seemed to have a talent for avoiding death by undead.
She had a lot of questions for him when they made it back to Lexington.
“Allister!”
The voice cut through the quiet night. It was Aaron. Sam stopped breathing for a moment, trying to listen for where he was.
The men in the camp started mobilizing. They grabbed weapons and ammunition. Sam looked at the man giving the orders. She guessed he was Allister.
“Allister!” Aaron called again. “I wake you up in there?”
His voice came from Sam’s left, deep in the trees. He sounded like he was out of breath. He didn’t sound elevated, like she was. She grabbed her binoculars to get a better look at the trucks, and the slaver named Gibbons. He didn’t grab a gun like everyone else. He stayed back near the slaves.
Allister checked his gun and slipped on a bulletproof vest. He kept his distance from the fence and yelled into the woods. “We didn’t think we’d see you again. Coming back to be a hero, free your friends? Not a good idea.”
“I told myself I would kill you, but I’ll give you a chance to surrender. Run away, now, as fast as you can. Leave all your supplies behind, and the slaves. You don’t have much time.”
Allister looked at his men around him. Sam could see him laughing.
“Fuck you.”
She was quiet as she waited to hear Aaron again.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”
Silence. There was only the wind, some crickets, and movement in the camp below. Sam thought she heard a moan, just over the rustling of the trees. Then there was another, just below her.
In a matter of seconds, the sounds of nature were pushed aside by the song of the undead.
She watched the slavers start to panic.
“Walkers! They’re everywhere!”
Sam’s
jaw dropped as the undead assaulted the fence. It stood its ground for a few seconds, then the old metal started to give and the walkers poured in. The slavers fired wildly, getting a few lucky head shots, but more took their place. She didn’t know how many there were, but judging by the sound, the slavers were far outnumbered.
She grabbed her rifle and did exactly what Aaron told her to. She kept an eye on the slaves, occasionally taking a second to kill a slaver that wandered in her sight. Ironically, the trucks that were modified to be a prison were the only things separating the slaves from a gruesome death from the undead.
Damn, Aaron, what have you done?
* * *
Aaron kept low to the ground and stayed in between the corpses as they pushed their way into camp. A few maggots and a worm fell on his head that he quickly brushed off. With the darkness and mass of undead around him, he had no idea where he was going, but he didn’t need to. Once the undead he gathered had the scent of fresh meat in their noses, there was no stopping them. All he had to do was go with the crowd.
It had taken him longer than he thought to find a thinker, a corpse the others would follow. The thinker was an auto mechanic in the old world. There was blood instead of grease on his uniform. Aaron recognized the glimmer of intelligence in his eye, and dragged him by the bony hand through the streets, gathering corpses as they went.
Aaron guessed there were at least two hundred undead.
He heard slavers dying all around him. They fought with guns, knives, their bare hands, but in the end, it was useless. The undead started to scatter as they attacked and feasted, leaving Aaron more exposed than he would have liked.
He just dropped to the ground and laid still. The corpses would ignore him, and the slavers would think he was already dead.
He looked around the camp. The attack was quick and brutal. He saw five undead slowly rip apart a slaver. Another managed to kill four or five corpses before he was overwhelmed. Someone headed for the trucks, either to hide with the slaves, or kill them. Before he could undo the chain, Aaron heard a gunshot, and saw his corpse fall to the ground.
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