Toward the Brink (Book 3)

by McDonough, Craig A.

  “Yeah. Yes, I do. He’ll be a real hoot on the long drive to the coast.”

  The Tall Man, Elliot, Mulhaven, and Chess all nodded as they thought of the long hours listening to Sam.

  Maybe we should have left him for the foamers.

  That thought crossed the minds of a few, but as long as he didn’t say, “play it again …,” they could endure his Bogey affliction. Besides, they weren’t heartless killers like Holmes or Etheridge. They were ruthless when it came to foamers, mutants, or looters, yes, but not Humphrey Bogart sound-alikes.

  * * *

  After a light meal, the group gathered in the kitchen to decide on a sleep schedule. The designated drivers would be allocated the most sleep, followed by their backups. Regardless of how different Chess sounded and acted since his return from Prince George, the Tall Man didn’t want him to be on watch without Elliot, Mulhaven, or himself—just to be sure. He would have included President Bob, as he’d begun to think of him, and Tom Transky in his group of those he trusted, but if it became necessary to take decisive action, he doubted they would be able to perform. His two partners from Twin Falls had already proven their worth.

  “Well, whoever is on the last watch can catch a few extra Zs in the motor home on the way.” Mulhaven tried to sound cheerful.

  “All right. I think the ladies and the kids can stay up a bit longer,” Bob said. “It’s too early for them to go down now, and I don’t think they need to rise too early.” He was referring to his own wife and children—the only kids in the group were his, unless you included Allan, Samantha, Cindy, or Elliot. But Bob didn’t want to single his children out as if they were privileged. Once they had been, but now, like everyone else, they were just out to survive.

  “Okay, I’m not sure of the sleeping arrangements, but the first group better sack out now. The others can load the vehicles, and quietly—we don’t want to disturb anyone. Rest is important to all of us. We’ve got a long journey ahead. We don’t know what awaits us on the road, but we need to be as well rested as possible to meet it.”

  That was the Tall Man’s “fight ‘em on the beaches” speech. It wasn’t as long nor as emotive as Winston Churchill’s, but it did drive home the dangers that lay ahead and the Tall Man’s belief in everyone—if they pulled together as a team.

  “Chess, I’d like you to pick five or six of your men for watch duty between oh-two-hundred and oh-six-hundred, okay?”

  “Sure. Will it just be us on duty?”

  “No, I’ll be there to keep you company in case you’re afraid of the dark.”

  “Very funny!” Chess smiled. The Tall Man was surprised; he’d expected more of a retort after his barb.

  “When should I take watch, Chuck?” Elliot asked the Tall Man while he zipped up his camouflage jacket as high as it would go around his neck. A large puff of mist exited his mouth as he spoke. There was a noticeable chill in the air.

  “How about you grab six hours now and be ready for the second shift? You and your dad can do it together.”

  “Sounds good. I like that, Chuck.” James Goodwin thanked the Tall Man.

  The Tall Man had resolved to keep family members together as much as possible. Elliot and James, Bob and his wife and children, Tom and his wife. He also thought he would do his best to find some time for Elliot and Cindy to be alone, as well as Allan and Sam—he wondered if he should call her Samantha, now that there was another Sam with them. He’d also like to find some time for Kath and himself. That was a nice thought, but one that probably wouldn’t be realized until they were safe and sound on Graham Island.

  There would be foamers on the island, of that he was sure, but the small population, the cold, and the lack of sustenance might mean they’d have died out before the group got there. That’s if Tom Transky’s theory held true. If not, they might be able to remove the foamers themselves.

  As long as they could avoid any problems along the way.

  “Yo, everybody out here!” Tristan Landers called from outside. He was on patrol as the group discussed travel plans.

  “What is it?” The Tall Man had barely opened the door when he understood the nature of Tristan’s call.

  “Can you smell that?”

  He certainly could, as could everyone outside. Fire. General Stodge’s firebombing campaign had proven to be most effective as far as out-of-control forest fires went. Whether the fire was controlling the legions of foamers, as it was intended to do when it was first proposed in a meeting at the White House, was a question the Tall Man couldn’t answer. Every major population center within the fire’s boundaries had been devastated by the inferno, so it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume many foamers had perished. The Tall Man, Mulhaven, Elliot, and certainly Tom and Bob knew the foamers weren’t just active in the areas of the fire. The infestation had reached throughout the country. The proponent of the plan had long since met his end, while his legacy—the fire—continued to rage. The giant firestorm had spread across the northwest of the continent, the cold weather of the night the only hindrance to its progress.

  “Smells close, very close.” Mulhaven looked around. The tall pines prevented any visibility of smoke. That was the good news. If no smoke could be seen with the naked eye, then the fire wasn’t close enough to force an evacuation.

  “I think we’ll still have time to get some rest, but we’re on fire watch now, as well as zombie watch. Okay?”

  Elliot snickered over the Tall Man’s “zombie watch” remark. He caught himself and looked in the direction of Prince George. Should that fire come from the opposite side, it might drive all the foamers … shit, it might drive the foamers right onto their position.

  The lighthearted feeling drained from him in an instant.

  It promised to be a long, long night.

  * * *

  The first group scheduled to rest went into the spare rooms Kath had made into sleeping quarters. Her house contained two extra bedrooms but only a single bed in each. The study and the living room, plus the floors in the extra bedrooms, looked like they were ready for a teenage girl’s slumber party.

  “Elliot.” Kath called her nephew over in a hushed voice. “Why don’t you and Cindy take my bedroom? I’ll take it with the second schedule.”

  Elliot look at his aunt as if he’d been slapped. It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say.

  “But what about some of the others, like … like …”

  “They’ve been married for many years.” She knew he referred the married couples among them, but she cut him off. “You and Cindy haven’t had much time to be alone, and you need it, Elliot. Trust me, you need it.”

  When Elliot saw the smile and warmth in her eyes, a reflection of what was in her heart, he rushed forward and hugged her. “Thank you, Aunt Kath, thank you.”

  He understood what she meant. After all they’d witnessed, the hardship, the constant doubts about their survival, they needed some tender time together. Kath recognized that need and had made provisions for it.

  “Oh, Elliot?” she called before he wandered way. “There’s a double sleeping bag on top of my bed for you and Cindy, and a little extra on top. I hope you’ll understand.”

  Elliot wasn’t sure about the “little extra on top,” but he appreciated Aunt Kath’s efforts.

  Minutes later, Elliot and Cindy entered Kath’s bedroom and locked the door behind them. It wasn’t the typical woman’s bedroom, Elliot thought. But Aunt Kath wasn’t the usual woman, either. A large bookshelf dominated one wall, stacked top to bottom with books. The light grey carpet was well worn in places, and the drapes over the window were plain dark brown and didn’t match the walls—a soft green. A single recliner stood near the desk by the bookshelf, and a small bathroom was attached to the bedroom.

  “So, this is your aunt’s ‘little extra,’ it appears.” Cindy picked up a packet of male contraceptives that had been placed neatly on top of the sleeping bag. “How thoughtful of her, but I wouldn’t necessarily say it was l
ittle.” She giggled. She had a chance to forget about the horrors for a while, and that was exactly what she planned to do.

  “Shh, they’ll hear us,” Elliot whispered into her ear.

  “Don’t be silly.” She continued to laugh.

  “You asked for it!” He snatched her by the arm and pulled her to him. “This’ll keep you quiet.”

  He kissed her gently but passionately, his arms wrapped around her waist. He felt her curves without the interference of the cumbersome army jacket. She no longer needed it; he would keep her warm now.

  “So how do these things work again?” he asked playfully.

  “Forgotten already, have you, big boy? Here, let me remind you.” She took the package from Elliot and removed a single foil packet from the box while he started to unbutton her jacket. For the moment, Elliot and Cindy would be able to forget the day to day horrors and enjoy their time together. It was a precious juncture in their lives, and confirmation of the importance of the relationship. The respite from the fire, the foamers, the mutant children, and his thoughts of what lay ahead would do Elliot no harm—no harm at all.

  * * *

  “The fire looks to be southeast of us but quite distant,” Chess told the Tall Man and Mulhaven the moment he jumped out of the Hummer. “Even with a strong wind behind it, I doubt it could get to us overnight.”

  While Kath was making arrangements for Elliot and Cindy to be alone, the Tall Man, Mulhaven, and Bob had wanted a better picture of the approaching fire. The Tall Man was surprised when Chess had volunteered to take the Hummer up the rise toward Prince George to the spot just before the road intersected with Highway 97, the best vantage point close to their position. The Tall Man had been hesitant to let Chess go at first, but was reassured when Chess had no objections to Mulhaven and David tagging along.

  “That’s good to know, but we can’t let our guard down. Fire is a complication we don’t want to fuck with.”

  “I agree with you, Chuck, I do,” Chess said. “I also think the cooler weather will keep it at bay.”

  “Not so sure on that.” Mulhaven looked around him at the tree tops, then the sky. “We might feel the chill here, but where the fire is, you can be sure the temperature has changed dramatically. The ambient heat would dry out the trees and the undergrowth. The fire may not move as fast as it did, but it’ll still move. With no active measures taken against it, this fire will only stop when it rains—or when there’s nothing left to burn.”

  “Let’s hope it burns all the foamers and those other things, then.”

  Chess waited for an explanation of what “those other things” might be, but when none came, he took it upon himself to find out.

  “What are these ‘other things” you mention?” He immediately noticed the tension in the exchange of looks between the Tall Man and Mulhaven.

  “If you haven’t encountered them, it’s hard to describe their appearance in a way that you’d believe. For now, all you need to know is they’re worse than the foamers—much worse!” Mulhaven informed him.

  Chess was intrigued. What could possibly be worse than the foamers? He didn’t press the issue. If neither of these men wanted to say, then they probably had good reasons.

  Maybe you don’t trust me enough now, but you will, you will.

  Chess understood what it was like to be outside of the group, the clique. He was Special Forces, for Christ’s sakes, and any soldier who wasn’t, wasn’t trusted. It was that simple. Mulhaven was the one who had set him straight, though he may not be aware of it. Chess would let him know when the time came.

  “Chess, why don’t you put all the vehicles into this clearing and have them face the exit, just in case we need to make a quick dash.”

  “Good idea, Chuck. Right on it.” Chess noted how the Tall Man used a few British phrases. Considering the way he conducted himself and his tactical knowledge, Chess supposed he had British military experience.

  “What did you say to him while you were gone, Riley?” the Tall Man asked when Chess was out of earshot.

  “Not a great deal. I just think he understands this isn’t the army anymore, and none of us are about to tolerate any macho war hero bullshit. You should cut him some slack. He’s just witnessed the country collapse, and came under attack by an army of foamers for the first time, which wasn’t exactly pleasant.”

  “Sure, I can do that.” But I’ll keep my eyes on him all the same, after the run-ins we’ve had with ex-military. “Glad to, Riley.”

  “And I think our new friend Sam brought some humor out of him.”

  “Yeah, that guy is in a class of his own, isn’t he?”

  The two shared a quick laugh before Mulhaven went to move the motor home while the Tall Man did the same with the bus. The motor home would be used as a guard house for everyone on duty. It had a couple of beds to sack out on, and water could be boiled for coffee or tea—or Mulhaven’s favorite noodles. Regular patrols in pairs would be conducted from now until it was time for them to leave.

  * * *

  Inside the house, Kath, Samantha, and Margaret occupied themselves gathering items usually not found at the top of most survival lists: needles and thread, plastic bags, extra bandages, staples and a staple gun, a roll of wire, a tool kit, pain killers, bars of soap, and personal hygiene items. The more obvious items such as water purification tablets, can openers, freeze dried vegetables and fruits, plus a few boxes of canned foods were already stored on board the vehicles. They had more of the dried vegetables than the canned goods; with so many now in the group, the Tall Man was concerned about weight.

  Kath had planned well ahead for her survival. She had always believed the threat would come in the form of nuclear fallout after a missile exchange between the United States and Russia, or perhaps China. Like most, she hadn’t thought the Armageddon she prepared for would be an infestation of undead zombies created by greedy individuals who didn’t know what the word enough meant.

  Kath had an assortment of hand tools that would be useful. If they could just hold out through the long winter on Graham Island, they could send teams back to the mainland to forage for supplies. By that time, there shouldn’t be anyone around—alive or undead—to bother them. Shouldn’t was the key word.

  7

  Just before the darkness engulfed Prince George and as Elliot and Cindy prepared to spend some time together, a lone figure staggered down Austin Road West, two miles north of the center of Prince George. Richard Holmes was tired, cold, and hungry, but his main concern was to find shelter before night enveloped the streets and the foamers left their daytime refuge in search of living tissue to feast upon. He had seen the undead up close at the airport less than twenty-four hours earlier, and he was aware from surveillance footage and his own investigations that the foamers ventured out after dark.

  “There has to be someplace safe around here,” Holmes said.

  He had just moved from concerned to frantic when he spotted the Christ Our Savior Church just ahead on Austin Road. The church brought back memories of the movie The War of the Worlds, the original with Gene Barry, where he searches for fellow scientist and romantic interest Sylvia Van Buren and finds her in a church. She tells Gene (the astronomer in the movie) that as a youngster, she had been instructed to always go to a church when she was in trouble, because that was where she would always be safe. Holmes wasn’t sure of the logic of following a line from a sixty-year-old movie, but there were no other structures that looked solid enough to keep the foamers out. He had to hope there weren’t any already inside, just waiting for darkness to fall; he had to take the chance. He wished he had taken a gun from the motor home before he ran off, but the possibility that he might alert the others to his presence had prevented him. He had never been in such a vulnerable position.

  There’ll be more than a few unused weapons left at the airport.

  “Weapons and bodies!” he said.

  He found a length of wood on the ground—an old fence post—grabbed it, a
nd wielded it in both hands like a baseball bat. He doubted it would do him any good if he were attacked by more than two foamers at once, but it was something.

  The arched doors to the church were closed but not locked. He thought this was promising—he doubted foamers would bother closing doors behind them. Inside, as far as he could see, the church was empty. He checked along the pews and saw no sign of anyone—living or dead. He didn’t bother looking further and headed straight for the door to the bell tower.

  “I doubt these dead fucks know how to climb.” He shut the door behind him and started up the stairs. He would be cold in the room below the bell itself, but he’d be safe from foamers.

  Tomorrow he would gather some supplies, get a vehicle, head to the airport for a weapon or two, and then follow the others to the west coast, all the way to that island he’d heard them mention.

  “If they think they’ve seen the last of me, well …”

  * * *

  After a coffee and a quick meal of SPAM and eggs, Elliot ventured outside to tell the others that change of guard had arrived. Night had fallen, though he was surprised to see some stars in the sky.

  “Hey Chuck, wait up!”

  “You look refreshed. You get a good sleep?”

  “You might say that.” Elliot had a devious look in his eye that was hidden in the night. “I see there are a few stars out tonight.”

  “We had a bit of wind from the north. Kept the smoke at bay, I guess.”

  “You’ve got time for a full six yourself if you hurry.”

  Elliot sounded more like the Tall Man every day, James Goodwin noted as he caught up to his son. That wasn’t such a bad thing; there were worse to model yourself after.

  “Yeah, you, Riley, and the others need to get your heads down now. You won’t be any good to us half asleep, Chuck—you of all people know that.”