Sol Survivors | Book 2 | Nashville Nightmare

by Benton, Ken

  Some of the other armed gang members had already positioned themselves between the enormous outside columns and the walls, preventing passage that way. It was clear that Enzo and Reggie were supposed to enter the interior through the doorway, and probably have to navigate their way through a Halloween-style haunted house inside—except this one was real.

  Enzo ran inside first. Enough sunlight came through holes in the roof to see the giant Athena statue in the goddess chamber directly ahead, but Enzo figured that was where they would be expected to go. He cut through the hallway on the right instead, cautiously rounding the corner to a long corridor.

  Broken statue pieces lay strewn about the concrete floor, but there was no place for anyone to jump out at him. Enzo hurried to the end and of the corridor and turned into one of the smaller rooms near the front entrance, where the stairway from the art museum in the basement came up. As he passed that, a gunshot fired at him from down in the stairwell.

  Enzo wasn’t hit. He scrambled through another doorway into an adjoining room with four large columns. Crumpled canvases of paintings lay among more busted-up statues, but no people.

  Or so he thought. A thin man in a Vanderbilt hat stepped out from behind one of the columns. He held a shotgun.

  Enzo tried to run through an opening that led back into the goddess chamber, but the freak with the rake came through it and almost succeeded in swiping it across Enzo’s face.

  Enzo ducked and ran the opposite way, hearing and feeling a shotgun blast above his hunched head as he moved, stumbling on rubble. Another opening to the goddess chamber beckoned on the far side of the room. This time Enzo barreled through it, prepared to tackle whoever may be waiting there.

  No one was immediately inside. Enzo’s feet kicked more debris. He slipped between two of the largest columns and found himself standing next to the huge golden goddess.

  In front of her a fire burned, in a makeshift pit made of broken statue pieces. The pit was full of hot coals and one or two semi-fresh two-by-fours. Its white smoke curled through the latticed roof into the sky above.

  Next to the fire lay what appeared to be a wooden spear someone had made, perhaps in an effort to create a mini version of the great golden spear Athena held.

  Enzo darted for the spear on the floor. It wouldn’t stop bullets, but it might stop a lunatic with a rake. Once again he stumbled on debris, and involuntarily looked down. What he discovered on the floor made him recoil in disgust.

  Human bones.

  And not purely bones. Some had bits of skin and rotting flesh attached. Some were partially burned. The object he just stumbled over was a skull with dried skin and hair still attached.

  Enzo picked up the spear to discover it had something unpleasant stuck near the metal tip, possibly cooked organ meat.

  He momentarily caught his breath enough to notice the appalling stench.

  “Enzo!” Reggie’s voice yelled from across the chamber.

  Enzo looked everywhere else in the large room before landing his eyes on Reggie.

  “Let’s get out of here, man, and take our chances outside!”

  Enzo never heard a better plan. He nodded and charged towards his friend, holding the spear forward.

  “Go!” Enzo yelled.

  Reggie ran straight back out the exit door they originally came in by. But he wasn’t six feet outside before he turned around, waved his arms and shouted, “No good, no good!”

  That’s when the spear in Enzo’s hands ran him through. Enzo wasn’t sure if it’d been an accident or not. Reggie only lived another few seconds.

  The end of the game arrived. Enzo found himself surrounded again on the edge of the great slab.

  One of the gang members pulled the spear out of Reggie’s chest, bent down and outright drooled over his body.

  “You cheated,” the leader’s voice said from the side.

  Enzo turned to see the Uzi pointed at him.

  “One of us is alive and one isn’t,” Enzo replied. “That’s all you said.”

  The leader shook his head. “Nah, nah, you cheated. Not that I don’t admire your creativity.”

  “Let’s eat them both!” someone in the circle said.

  “The one is enough for today,” the leader answered. “I don’t want the game to get a reputation for being unfair, or our captives won’t bother making a good run of it. We’ll take this cheater over to the Gulch and chain him to the rotunda. A present for my cousin.”

  “I won!” Enzo said. “We had a deal. You’re supposed to escort me out of your territory.”

  “I am,” the leader replied, “but in the other direction, seeing as you cheated. Don’t worry. The noctos in the music hall are sporting, like us. You’ll surely get a chance to win your way free again tonight.”

  “As long as you can sing,” someone added.

  * * *

  “They know it’s here,” Red said kicking at a partially-dug hole under a rusty transmission. “They’ll be back every night now, and will find better spots to try to dig their way in.”

  “Yep,” Joel said nodding. “Unless someone stops them.” He stared at Red, who reacted by frowning, glancing at the goat pen, and tilting his head.

  Joel gazed beyond him, to the other side of the garden where Sammy and Mick worked on reinforcing the perimeter. They didn’t display their usual enthusiasm. Sammy leaned on the shovel and spoke idly to Mick, who kneeled on one knee in a half-assed effort to secure a fence stake. It was clear their hearts were no longer in it. These damn gas vouchers infected them both with faraway eyes.

  “Cage traps,” Joel said to Red. “We’ll make some out the rebar and two-by-fours in the Maddock barn, and set them around the perimeter. We’ll have to waste some food in order to bait them, but figure to get much more back in trade for fresh hog meat.”

  “We better make them strong,” Red replied. “And large. I have occasionally looked out at the ruckus in the middle of the night, and some of them around here are huge.”

  “Well if need be, you may have to wrestle one once in a while.”

  This time Red seemed to recognize that Joel was joking and almost smiled before jogging off to get Nancy out of the shed. It was remarkable how he knew she was in there. Red really was in tune with that goat—and the chickens, too. He was so close to the animals, in fact, Joel doubted he would accept an invitation to move his sleeping quarters inside the house. Last night he only did it reluctantly, because he was asked to.

  Sammy and Mick worked their way around to Joel. He heard them talking about lunch as they approached, but also thought he picked up something that sounded like the end of a discussion on the best way to ask Joel something. No doubt it was about his gas voucher. Joel decided to beat them to the punch.

  “Before you ask me for that voucher,” Joel said taking the shovel from Sammy, “I would ask you two on the details of your travel plans. For example, driving at night.”

  “We would not attempt that,” Sammy replied in a sudden excited voice. “We think we can make it in two full days of daylight, so only need to sleep in the truck one night.”

  “You haven’t even tried sleeping in the truck one night while it is here.” Joel began filling the hog hole. “Don’t you think you should, to see how well you can handle being that close to the night air all around you, in such small quarters?”

  “We’ll pull the tent over the cab,” Sammy said. “And make sure we are way out in the sticks, for safety.”

  “Sounds like you guys have been working it out.” Joel stopped and looked at Mick, who remained wide-eyed and quiet, before turning back to Sammy.

  “Suppose I do give you this voucher. You still need one more.”

  “Not necessarily.” Sammy motioned to Mick. “Show him.”

  Mick produced the unsanctioned gas network map and came to Joel’s side unfolding it. He pointed at a letter D next to two of the locations highlighted.

  “This means they sell diesel,” Mick said. “And one of them i
s fairly close.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, it says so here.” He pointed to a legend on the map explaining the symbols.

  Joel shook his head. “I see four problems. One is the location of that station being too close to Nashville. We’ve all heard the stories—”

  “It’s five miles outside the city,” Sammy said. “And we’ll be armed.”

  “With my weapons, you mean?”

  Sammy tilted his head.

  Joel continued. “The second problem, and this is conspicuously awkward, is that your truck is not diesel. So I must assume you mean to trade me your little Toyota for Archer’s good truck, seizing upon a statement I made last night which was only meant as an observation, turning it into an offer. Now I can play the negotiation game with you all week, but we both know that in the end you are going to sweet talk me into giving you that truck, along with the blunderbuss. So let’s discuss the remaining problems: you somehow need to come up with at least five gallons of diesel fuel locally to even make the 130-mile drive to that purple fantasy gas station, and, perhaps even more importantly, I cannot afford to give you any additional firearms—and you should each have at least one. That is my primary concern at this point.”

  Sammy and Mick both opened their mouths to reply, but seemed to notice each other doing so and both yielded to the other. Joel crossed his arms and leaned on the shovel in a long moment of amusement that was finally broken by the sound of Jules barking from the porch.

  Joel knew that bark. He spun around and eyed the driveway opening, suddenly aware of the great distance between his current location and the shed where he left his shotgun.

  The inevitable sound of gravel crunching followed, but at a strange pace and tone. For a moment Joel lamented the fact he’d been too lazy to close the driveway gate during daylight hours as of late.

  Debra materialized on the front porch next to Jules. As soon as Joel saw her blonde hair reflecting sunlight, he knew from her body language that the visitor was not a threat. She must have seen them coming from a window.

  The angle of the trees lining both sides of the driveway did not allow Joel to see the visitor until they emerged. When they finally did, he had trouble believing his eyes.

  Four horses pulling a wooden covered wagon trotted onto his property, like they just came out of an old western movie. Two men sat at the head of the wagon. Both were covered in dust. The one with the reigns even wore a cowboy hat. He had an air about him which projected confidence and experience, like John Wayne.

  The one riding shotgun, who did not hold any visible weapons, projected anything but that. He appeared unbalanced and out of place, and wore colorful clothes. The only western figure he portrayed was maybe a rodeo clown.

  That’s when Joel recognized him.

  Chapter Four

  “The prodigal son returns,” Joel said. He extended a hand to help Callaway down from the wagon.

  “That is hardly a fitting label,” Callaway replied. “And the last time I was here, you were the one missing. I am very happy to see you home and well, sir.” He stumbled after stepping to the ground, causing Debra to reach to steady him. He took hold of her hand as well.

  “What happened to you?” Debra asked. “You said you were going for a walk and never came back.”

  “Good Madam.” Callaway bowed before releasing her hand. “That is exactly what I did. I have now returned from that walk.”

  “In style,” Mick said laughing. “How far did you go?”

  “Kansas, I am told.”

  The driver of the wagon climbed down. He removed his hat and stood with Callaway.

  “Heavens,” Callaway said. “I am always neglecting proper manners. Forgive me. This is Simeon.”

  “Simon,” the man said in a polite but corrective tone. “Simon Teed. Pleased to meet you all.”

  Debra made the introductions, ending them by pointing at Red, who was working in the yard again and did not join them. She then inquired as to whether Simon and Callaway had driven the wagon rig all the way from Kansas.

  “No, no,” Callaway answered. “Simeon, err … Simon, is local and has come to trade.”

  “Somewhat local,” Simon said. “I’m from the Jamestown area. Heard about the trading post, but it’s too far to get home from before dark. Then Callaway here shows up and tells me there is overnight lodging available.”

  Joel stared at Callaway while Debra only laughed.

  “Of course, if I’ve been misinformed…” Simon began to say.

  “Let’s talk about it over lunch,” Joel said. “Please be our guest. What type of goods are you in need of?”

  “Well thank you dearly for your warm reception.” Simon beat the dust off his hat. “Hoping to acquire materials for a few outdoor projects, especially PVC piping, screening like you have in that greenhouse there, any kind of wire fencing, hardware, nails and screws, and maybe a few more hand tools. Also any kind of rubber, plastic buckets, and weatherproofing chemicals like sealant.”

  “Those are some hard materials to part with,” Joel replied. “But I might be able to scrounge you up a few things from a supply we have nearby, assuming you have items of interest in that wagon. Something tells me you do.”

  “Well I’m hoping someone finds it interesting, sir.”

  “Joel.”

  “Joel, right. I brought some livestock feed, a stock of sewing supplies including a working treadle sewing machine, with lots of thread and several bolts of materials, a large container of flaked oats, and a handgun I can part with that I only have a few rounds of ammo for.”

  “What caliber?”

  “It’s a Smith and Wesson revolver chambered for .357, so will safely fire .38 or .357 rounds. I have about twenty .38 rounds to go with it. Got a few other knickknacks back there, too, including ten gallons of diesel fuel.” He glanced at the trucks in the yard. “You’re welcome to pick through it.”

  Joel watched Sammy and Mick become excited to the point of barely restraining themselves.

  Simon also noticed and remarked, “I’m guessing I touched on something that’s poked you boys.”

  “Believe it or not one of them used to be a good car salesman,” Joel said turning his head from side to side.

  Simon laughed. Everyone went inside except Debra and Callaway, who stayed to clean Callaway’s filthy bare feet and find his shoes. The guys sat at the table while Joel went to work fixing a meal of leftover partridge stew, from partridges Joel snared in the field next door, with the last of the millet bread.

  During lunch, Debra asked Callaway about his adventures in Kansas.

  “The same compulsion which led me to you guided me to my other appointments,” he said with his mouth full. “Most of them true sanctuaries, like yours. Wonderful people with a serving spirit. Unfortunately, I’ve seen some unpleasant things, too, mostly at night. The far point of my journey indeed proved a worthy destination, folks just as good as you with a large property who welcome strangers and travelers. Though they wouldn’t let me sleep in the stable and insisted on giving me one of their small cabins. I had to sneak out at night so I could be with the donkeys and get some real rest.”

  “Where in Kansas was that?” Mick asked.

  “A stone’s throw south of Emporia, they told me. They even offered to loan me one of their animals for my return trip, but you know I have my own ways of getting around.” He glanced at Simon, who chuckled taking a bite of bread.

  “My only disappointment was not meeting more of my own brethren. But I suppose we are meant to help the rest of you, not waste time mingling among ourselves.”

  “Your own brethren?” Debra asked.

  Callaway nodded. “Cathemerals, like myself. Ran into several on my trip forward, and one on the way back but he was an odd fellow and hard to understand.”

  Joel noticed everyone except Sammy and Mick fight back looks of amusement. Those two both had their brains in high gear. Joel knew he was about to lose them. He could fight it, and
make it difficult for them, but he didn’t want to be that selfish.

  After lunch, Sammy and Mick somehow kept Callaway seated with a map spread out before him, attempting to extract as much information on the details of his route as was possible from his not-quite-reliable brain. Joel took Simon down to the Maddock barn and dug through the stored construction materials there. Simon acted as if he’d discovered the motherlode gold mine.

  Things happened fast from there. Within another hour, much of Joel’s circumstances changed.

  Simon worked out a trade with Joel for everything in his wagon, and, no longer having a need to stay for the marketplace hour, headed for home by mid-afternoon.

  Joel acquired a nice assortment of new goods which he would need to split with Hal, since Hal was assigned equal stewardship of the Maddock property by Colonel Cowboy.

  Sammy and Mick now had answers for all Joel’s earlier objections. Yes, it was largely because of Joel’s charity, but they had been hard workers while here and deserved their severance pay. They also had a more detailed travel plan mapped out, thanks in part to Callaway.

  One of those details was that their initial calculations of two thirteen-hour driving days would not get them there, taking into account the smaller highways and country roads necessary for avoiding large cities and getting to the two military-controlled truck stops using indirect routes. Their new plan added two additional half-days to the trip.

  One of those was today.

  “We’ll spend tomorrow night at Callaway’s Emporia ranch,” Sammy explained holding the map. “And tonight in Eastern Missouri after getting across the river at Cairo.”

  Joel looked the plan over, lacking his usual efficiency. He was aware he was suddenly off his game, but couldn’t shake the dark cloud which had descended on him. The best thing to do might be to get it over with as quickly as possible.

  “Are you coming back?” Joel asked. Sammy and Mick both stood before him, but it was obvious to all that Joel was really only addressing one of them.