Toward the Brink (Book 3)

by McDonough, Craig A.

  “You’re right, Jim. I’ll gather the rest and head in. There might be a couple in the motor home, so send them into the house, okay?” The Tall Man, Riley, Chess, Tristan, some of the other soldiers who had come in with the transport, and two of the Secret Service agents gathered out in front of the porch.

  “So far so good. No fire, and more importantly, no foamers. Let’s get some rest and hope it stays that way. Elliot?” the Tall Man called. “Keep all flashlights to a bare minimum and shielded, okay?”

  “You got it. Now go get some sleep or I’ll get my dad onto you!”

  “Aye aye, sir!”

  Elliot laughed when the Tall Man jumped to attention and saluted. He watched the group go inside. All these people, all of them, were nice, friendly, happy people.

  Why is it you meet the best people at such tragic times? Elliot thought. He had no answer.

  “Because that’s what brings the best out in us, young man.”

  “What? How did you—” Elliot spun around on his heels to see Sam behind him.

  “It’s a skill, or so I’ve been told. But that’s the truth. Now, your aunt gave me this here scattergun to patrol with. Anywhere special you want me to be?”

  “Err, no. Just go to the motor home and pair up with someone. Why did you ask me, anyway?”

  “Your aunt told me you were in charge here.”

  Elliot looked back at the house while he considered this. Just who was really in charge here? If it was his aunt, as he’d begun to suspect, then he wouldn’t mind a bit—not one bit.

  * * *

  Inside, Kath worked some magic. She did her best to give the married couples their privacy while keeping the single men and women separate so that no one would be put into an embarrassing or awkward situation. The possibility of stumbling upon someone in various stages of undress was all too real in a house full of people. She did, however, take some liberties. Her bedroom was hers, end of the world or not, and she would decide who slept there. Kath had been determined to get Elliot and Cindy some time alone; she knew this was the right decision, and the smile on Cindy’s face was confirmation. Now it was her turn to enjoy some time alone—just her and the Tall Man. The end of the world was upon them, they faced the horrors of the foamers, and there might not be another day left for any of them. She was determined to make their time mean something.

  “Your quarters await you, sire.”

  “Hmm? What did you say?” The Tall Man looked at Kath, unsure of her meaning.

  She took him by the hand and led him to her bedroom. There wasn’t time for a discussion, and she wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

  “Wow, is this for—” The Tall Man stared at the candlelit room and, of course, the single rose that lay on the double bed.

  “Well, who else, silly!” Kath shut the door behind them, locked it, and placed the Tall Man’s arms around her. He had no intention of protesting her advances; not this time. He held her close to him as their lips met. Her flowing hair, perfume, and warm body guaranteed his mind was free from distractions. The Tall Man was grateful. He needed her as she did him, and he needed a release from the tension of the catastrophic events he’d faced day after day, plus the extra demands of watching over the others. Mulhaven helped him, as did Elliot and his father, but they all relied on his better judgment and experience, and it had taken its toll. Kath knew it, and the Tall Man knew it.

  “I wish we’d met a long time ago,” he whispered.

  “Shh, just be glad we have, and enjoy all the days we have left together.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I am very, very glad!”

  He lifted her up with one arm under her buttocks, carried to the bed, laid her down gently, and then slid in by her side. The soft candlelight made for an arousing atmosphere.

  It would be another long night for the Tall Man, but he wouldn’t mind this time; not at all.

  * * *

  Those on patrol duty outside noticed a new spring in the Tall Man’s step as he exited Kath’s house shortly before two a.m. He headed straight for the motor home, which was serving as a guard house for the men on perimeter watch. The chance to spend some tender moments with a special woman had reinvigorated him despite the less than a full six hours sleep. It also reinforced his determination to get everyone to the safety of Graham Island. No longer was his desire for survival based solely on avoiding being torn apart by foamers; he now had a more positive reason to endure the severe conditions. Love. The love that he and Kath felt, as well as the love between Elliot and Cindy, Bob and Kamira Charles, Tom and Janet Transky. Yes, the love and genuine caring for one another this group had demonstrated time and time again. It was the strongest known binding material in the universe, and it was worth fighting for.

  He knew that deep down it was what made him do what he did. He made no excuses for the fact he had killed many men and quite a few women in his time. But he did it for the right reasons; he firmly believed that. A man of strong principles, he would never compromise them—not intentionally. Never had he willingly associated himself with anyone motivated by greed or lust for absolute power. When things didn’t feel right under the employment of Richard Holmes, he’d followed Holmes until he gathered enough information to realize Holmes was not a man to be trusted. The Tall Man had been proven correct in his assessment of the man known for his nefarious activities. What the Tall Man stood for—in the end—was what the people he’d eliminated stood against, and that was reason enough to remove them.

  But that was then, and he’d mellowed—or thought he had—until he came across the likes of Baer, Langley, and Holmes. The world would be a better place without them and people like them. And in his position at Baer Industries, he’d come to know that there were quite a few people like them in the world—quite a few.

  He wore a thick, hooded camouflage jacket and gloves, and he wore long johns under his thick jeans. He carried a hot cup of coffee with him. He’d only gotten about three hours sleep at best out of his allotted six, but he had no complaints. Chess followed a minute or so later with some of the other soldiers who had accompanied him in the transport.

  “How’s it going, Elliot? I take it there’s been no drama so far?” The Tall Man raised his head as he attempted to check on the smoke.

  “No drama at all—at least not out here.”

  The Tall Man was about to answer that quip when Chess approached from behind.

  “The fire seems to have held off. Maybe we could ease up some, let the others get a bit more rest.”

  “I think we could at that, Chess. But take turns in the motor home while we’re on the move. We can’t relax any, not in our attitudes or our preparedness, not where these things are concerned.”

  “Yeah, I understand you, Chuck, you know I do … but we got less than four hours before the sun rises, and we haven’t been bothered so far. And the fire—”

  “The fire could be like the foamers. One minute nothing, the next…”

  “Well … we have just about all the trained people on duty now, Chuck, just as you wanted it before dawn,” Chess reminded him.

  “In the old movies, attacks always happen just before dawn—but what the hell does Hollywood know?” The Tall Man winked.

  Chess and Elliot laughed, especially Elliot; he could see his big buddy’s new lease on life, and he was glad for it.

  “Anyway, the smoke, or at least the smell of it, has died down, as you can tell.” Elliot was well aware of the devastation caused by the fire, coming from Idaho as he did.

  “There doesn’t seem to be any glow that would be associated with a fire in close proximity,” Chess added.

  No smoke or orange glow could be seen against the night sky from Kath’s farm. The outline of hills before Prince George prevented any clear view. That no reflection of flames could be seen was a good sign, but it didn’t mean the fire danger had vanished.

  * * *

  From inside his small fortification, Richard Holmes endured a harrowing night. Li
ke crowds of shoppers on the day before Christmas, foamers roamed the streets below him, searching, always searching. Sleep was out of the question. His vantage point did allow for an unfettered view of the fire in the distance. A cool wind had come in from the opposite direction earlier in the night and kept the fire from racing across the mountain range that lay between it and Prince George. By the early hours of the next day, however, Holmes felt the breeze change. It blew straight back toward the town.

  He waited for sunrise. It would be his moment to act. A car, gas, food, weapons, and ammo from the airport, and then out of here. The fire was perhaps another two days away, less if a big wind picked up, but he didn’t want to spend another night in town as undead foamers walked the streets below.

  “Purification by fire. It might work after all.” He sounded hopeful for the first time in more than a few days. The first rays of light could be seen in the east. A new day dawned, and perhaps a new beginning.

  * * *

  The engines of all of the vehicles started at once. The luggage compartment of the bus proved a bonus and freed up more room in the motor home.

  “So long old home, so—” Kath stood by the bus and gave her home one last goodbye. She’d planned to be strong, but the tears rolled down her cheeks; plans don’t always work out.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” the Tall Man said as Kath buried her head in his chest and sobbed. He ushered her into the bus. Once they were under way, she’d feel better.

  Elliot led off in the Hummer, Tristan was next in the Ram 3500, Mulhaven was behind him in the motor home, and David, with a very alert Allan for support, brought up the rear in the bus. As the crow flies, it was an eight and a half hour drive to Prince Rupert. That was if you maintained the speed limit. Such an estimation didn’t take into account the current state of the world. The four vehicles had to keep each other in sight without bunching up; if the Hummer in front got into trouble or had an accident, the other three didn’t need to follow.

  The road conditions were unknown. More than likely, the highway would be littered with abandoned vehicles just as they’d experienced since they’d fled Twin Falls. Of most concern were possible encounters with more looters or rogue military groups. They had no fear of foamers, not during daylight, but it would depend on how many miles they covered whether they’d have to stop overnight before they got to Prince Rupert. It wouldn’t be the best choice to arrive with an hour before nightfall and hope to clean out the foamers so they could get a good night’s sleep.

  A better proposition would be to stop in one of the smaller towns before Rupert. A good defensive position could be set up, and if they encountered any foamers, it wouldn’t be too many. At least, that was the general consensus.

  The Tall Man reckoned on ten hours of travel, and that was if they were unhindered. That would put their arrival in Prince Rupert at four p.m., and by then the sun would have started to set. The risk was too high. Better to stop sooner and spend a night where they felt safer. By the map, the town of Terrace looked better, and it was less than an hour from Prince Rupert. With so many in the group now, camping out for the night was out of the question. It would have to be Terrace.

  The Tall Man—and the others—hoped for an uninterrupted journey.

  The four vehicles crested a hill not far out of Prince George, but they didn’t stop to look behind them, though it would have afforded them a glimpse of the smoke from the fire. They were not interested—not where they were going; they were headed west, and the fire was behind them. Let it stay behind and burn all the foamers, burn ‘em all!

  Everyone looked forward, figuratively and literally. After their narrow escape at the airport and the knowledge that Prince George was overrun with foamers, the future was all they had to look toward.

  They had all looked toward the brink of mankind’s destruction. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Just as there was no time to waste in their preparations, there was even less time to dwell on the horrors, the losses, and the catastrophes.

  If just one of the travelers in the bus had looked behind them as they lurched over the hill, they would have seen a car almost a mile behind them as it rounded the bend at the bottom of the rise. They would have seen that it was driven by a single occupant. They wouldn’t have known the identity of the driver, but it wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure it out.

  Richard Holmes.

  8

  The Tall Man rode in the motor home and kept his eyes glued on the Hummer ahead while he silently cursed the loss of the walkie-talkies. They weren’t much more than kids’ toys, but they did have enough range for communication between the vehicles. Before they left, he’d told Elliot to keep an eye out for anything unusual and to stop the moment he saw something. If they did encounter any problems such as roads that had been blocked—accidentally or deliberately—they would need room to back out and turn the vehicles around, particularly the bus. It would be tight in some sections of the highway, no doubt, but if their lives were on the line …

  “Still got the bus in view?” he called to Mulhaven, who sat behind the wheel of the motor home.

  “Yep, she’s right where we need her to be.” Before they’d departed on their journey, the Tall Man was adamant that one hundred yards would be the maximum distance kept between the vehicles. He positioned the rear view mirrors so he could keep an eye on the bus, leaving Mulhaven to concentrate on his driving.

  “You really don’t think we should try for Prince Rupert? Y’know, go straight through?”

  “No, I don’t. We can make it, sure, but it would be dark, and we have no idea how many foamers might be present. I don’t know what the population is there,” the Tall Man explained before he turned to Kath. “Do you know?”

  “I thinks it’s about twelve thousand, which isn’t all that big. It fluctuates with tourism, of course, but, well … not any longer.” Kath turned her head to look out the window, a tear drifted down her cheek. She’d left her house behind after all these years, and the reminder that tourism no longer existed, plus the barren roads, was too much. Especially after a moment when being human and alive was reinforced in the most meaningful way.

  The Tall Man put his hand on the back of her neck and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

  She knew he meant it was okay to cry, to have feelings, to show them, and most of all to never forget the world that once was.

  “If half the town or even a quarter has turned, we don’t have the ammunition or the manpower to deal with them. It would be close to dark by the time we got there, maybe an hour or so to spare. We’d have to initiate a search and destroy for the foamers, and we couldn’t get them all before nightfall. So it’s best we stop after we get through, err… ”

  “Terrace.”

  “Thanks, Kath. Yes, we have to get through, and we have no time to spare. The population’s about the same, if I remember.” He looked over and received confirmation from Kath. “And we can’t afford to linger there either. We’ll have to secure a place for the night, and it will be best to move off the next day to avoid the foamers, grab a boat, and head to Graham. I know that sounds simple, but it’s my hope it will turn out that way.”

  “It’s what we all hope, Chuck, believe me.” Kath reached out and took his arm.

  Samantha sat to the back of the motor home but listened to every word. She was the quietest of all, but that was her nature. She wasn’t shy or in shock—no more than any of the others, in any case.

  “What do you mean by ‘search and destroy’?” She didn’t understand what the Tall Man had referred to.

  “Well, Sam, it’s like this.” He was careful with his choice of words. “The foamers come out at night, when they’re at their peak. In order for us to remove the danger, we would need to go house to house or store to store find where they’ve hidden themselves and dispatch them. Not unlike finding a vampire in his coffin during the day.”

  “You mean kill them as they sleep?”


  “Well, they’re already dead, Samantha.” The Tall Man sounded like a father concerned with his daughter’s low grades at school. “We’ll just make it more permanent, that’s all.”

  The Tall Man, Kath, and Mulhaven all had the same thought—that she somehow felt sympathy for these red-eyed demons from hell. She was young, and she also didn’t have the first-hand experience with foamers most of the others did. But someone would have to set her straight. Before anyone could, however, Samantha let everyone know her position.

  “We could do that. We could use the crossbows. Silent, deadly, and the bolts can be reused, save our ammunition. The fuckers wouldn’t know what hit them. No pun intended.” She smiled like the innocent teenager she once was.

  The Tall Man didn’t say a word but gave Kath a surprised nod.

  It was a sensible tactical move, and it would save their ammo. No one, and especially not he, had thought such a plan would come from Samantha.

  * * *

  The Tall Man felt they had more than a chance for survival. Surrounded by such determined young people who showed an understanding of what it would take—even if it wasn’t pleasant—how could he not? The plan to seek refuge on Graham Island or, more specifically, Moresby Island, was a valid one. Whatever foamers existed there could be dealt with. He didn’t think foamers could get to the island, but packs of armed roamers could. And that did concern him.

  “Hmph, roamers and foamers,” he chuckled.

  “What did you say, Chuck?” James had heard the Tall Man mumble.

  “Oh, nothing. Just thought it was a good day for travel. Sun’s out, no clouds or wind. We should make good time, and that’s what we want.”

  “Daylight is our best ally, and we need to use it,” Mulhaven called from the driver’s seat of the motor home.

  “According to the map, we should come to our first town, err, Vanderhoof, soon.”