Other than Anna and two others assigned to monitor the injured in the hospital, all of the other couple dozen adults would be going. As the nearly two dozen people came outside, Jon stood up straight and cleared his face of any concern. These people were scared enough as it was. It wouldn't do any good for him to be looking worried. He met them near the vehicles they were all about to pile into with the purpose of heading to Black Hill.
It had taken a few hours from when they'd decided they were going to Black Hill to get ready to leave. The sun would be up soon, which would both harm the element of surprise as well as make it easier to fight. Of course, that advantage came for both sides, but Jon hoped they would have the element of surprise regardless; he was thinking that Malcolm wouldn't expect them to come for him so soon after the destruction he had laid out in Freedom Ridge. In fact, Jon thought it was possible that Malcolm might not think they'd come after him at all. That if anyone came to Black Hill, it would only be to surrender or possibly even turn Jon over.
Jon looked around at the people who would force the attack on Black Hill. Freedom Ridge survivors made up most of the group's nearly two dozen people, and Jon didn't know them well. But Raylon had assured him that these people would hold their own. Even though Lennox had been passive in his dealings with Malcolm in order to avoid a war, he and Raylon had still done a fair job of making sure everyone was trained to fight if called upon.
Besides the one SUV, they had another SUV and a cargo van to use. They'd already gassed up and loaded the vehicles with weapons. All they had to do now was load in and make the drive to Black Hill.
"Does everyone remember the plan?" Jon asked.
Most nodded, a couple answering verbally.
"I'm assuming they're going to have the camp well-guarded," he continued. "Better than when Raylon and I went there last time and could sneak in the side gate. We'll hit them hard, and we'll hit them fast."
"I really don't think they're going to expect us to be coming," Raylon said. "I don't know Malcolm that well, but I know him enough to think he's probably feeling high and mighty after what he did here."
"But we also can't make that assumption," Brooke said. "Hopefully, you're right, but we also have to prepare for the possibility that this is exactly what he's expecting."
"Brooke's right," Jon said. "We have to be prepared for anything. The worst thing we can do is underestimate Malcolm at this point."
It went quiet then. Again, Jon looked around into everyone's faces. They were as ready as they were going to be.
"Alright, then," Jon said. "Let's load up and get going."
The children and the few adults who were staying had come outside to see everyone off. Jon stood next to his motorcycle, which he'd be leading the way to Black Hill on, and watched as friends and family members hugged.
Lucas was outside, and he had his arms around Brooke. As he hugged his mom, tears coming out of his eyes and rolling down his cheeks, he looked in Jon's direction. The two made eye contact, and the boy broke away from the hug he was giving his mom. Jon raised his eyebrows as the boy started walking toward him. Within moments, his walk turned into a full-on sprint.
Lucas ran into Jon so that his head landed on Jon's chest as he threw his arms around him. It caught Jon off-guard, and for a moment he wasn't totally sure what to do. Then, he did the only thing he knew to do, which was to hug the boy back. He ran his hands up and down Lucas' back as the boy cried.
"I'll make sure your mom comes back, just like I promised you last time," Jon said.
The boy hugged him for another second, then broke loose. Wiping his eyes, he looked up into Jon's face.
"I know you will, but I want you to make sure you come back, too."
Jon couldn't lie to the boy. He grabbed him again, giving him another hug as he glanced over at Brooke. He didn't reply to the boy's question.
The truth was, Jon didn't know if he was coming back.
29
Jon rode his motorcycle down the country road with the vehicles containing the others following behind him.
He felt several emotions as he rode. More than anything, he felt anxious. But paired with that anxiety was a hint of fear. Again, Jon didn't fear death. Though, the thought of letting Lucas down now weighed heavily on his mind. He was more worried about the rest of the group. About his friends. About Brooke. He couldn't go back to Freedom Ridge and have to tell Lucas that his mother was gone. And he would do everything in his power to make sure he didn't have to.
And above everything else, he wanted his chance to face Malcolm again. He'd do whatever it took to kill the man. Jon wouldn't make the same mistake again, of being in the same room with the bastard and letting him live.
Armed and ready for the fight, Jon had fastened his baseball bat and his hatchet securely onto his back, and he wore his pistol on his hip. An assault rifle sat on the rack of his bike, ready for him to grab so that he could jump into action as soon as he got to Black Hill.
He didn't look forward to what was coming. It was one thing to beat in the brains of zombies with his bat or shoot them with his pistol. He looked at those actions like he was putting the creatures out of their misery. Even though the people who'd once occupied those bodies were long gone, he still felt a cathartic comfort in knowing he'd helped them. But it was a whole other thing to kill a living, breathing human being. Especially when he truly felt like there were people at Black Hill who were simply living in unfortunate circumstances. But if it was between Jon leaving Black Hill alive or the person standing across from him keeping their life, Jon would choose himself every time.
When they got to the turn leading to the small township area that had become Black Hill, Jon pulled over on the side of the road. Raylon pulled up next to him.
"They're going to hear me coming on this bike," Jon said. "But it's okay. I want it to put them in a bit of a panic. And then we'll stick to our plan and hit them hard and fast."
"Are you sure you want to ride in taking the lead?" Raylon asked.
Jon nodded. "It'll be a lot like when we took the prison. I can ride in quick on this bike, toss some explosives over the fence to distract them and do some initial damage, and then you all will come behind me and roll through that gate. Then, get out and start shooting. I'm sure that even though Malcolm might be too cocky to think we'll attack them, he'll still have people ready and on guard just in case."
"All right," Raylon said. "We'll wait for your lead."
Jon dismounted his bike. Brooke got out of the passenger seat of the SUV she was riding in. She held a shoulder bag in her hand, and she offered it to Jon, who took it.
Jon peeked inside the bag. He stared at the four grenades.
"That's most of what we have," Brooke said. "And it's as many as I wanted to put into the bag. I didn't want it to be too heavy."
"Thanks." Jon put the bag over his shoulder, opening the flap and settling it to sit against his stomach, where he could easily reach into the bag to retrieve the grenades.
"I don't like that this is the plan," Brooke said. "Why do you have to lead? Especially on a motorcycle. It's too risky."
"It'll be fine. I want to make sure we can catch them off-guard and distract them before we go in."
Brooke looked down at the ground for a moment, her hands on her hips. Then, she nodded.
"I promise," Jon said, "I'll be—"
But Brooke didn't let him finish, instead stepping forward and kissing him. Brooke put her hand on his cheek and then ran it around to the back of his neck. Jon pulled her closer, not caring that the others were watching. As much as he'd promised himself that nothing would happen to her, he knew nothing was guaranteed. This could be the last time the two of them ever kissed.
When she'd finished, their foreheads met. He opened his eyes to see hers still closed, but then she opened them and looked at him.
"I love you, Jon."
The words caught Jon off-guard just as much as they had the first time she'd said them to him. It wa
sn't like he hadn't been feeling strong emotions about Brooke. And even though they hadn't known each other that long, he'd always felt that time was kinda bullshit. When you had that vibe about someone, you just knew. He'd known the night he'd met his wife Carrie at his softball game that he was going to marry her. But that had been Carrie. She'd been the love of his life—his soulmate. Things felt good with Brooke, and he needed her in his life, but he just wasn't sure he could mutter those words yet.
"Me, too," he said, hoping he'd said enough to appease her even without saying the 'L' word out loud. He put his hand on her cheek, and then turned back and went to his bike.
Sitting on it, he confirmed that the shoulder bag was in the right position. He wanted to be able to easily access the grenades inside, pull the pins, and toss them into the camp, all while remaining on his bike. It wouldn't be easy to pull the pins while riding, of course. It wasn't like you could pull them with your teeth like characters did in the movies. In real life, they didn't make the pins to be yanked out that easily. He'd have to improvise—something he was quickly becoming accustomed to.
Jon started up the bike. He looked out ahead of him, focusing on what was to come and psyching himself up. Then, he looked to his right at Raylon, who nodded. Jon returned the gesture before he looked forward again.
He pulled the throttle, lifting his feet off the ground as the bike took off.
Turning right, he picked up speed and headed for Black Hill.
30
Black Hill was a couple of miles down the road, and Jon knew they'd hear him coming on the motorcycle. That was fine, too, because he’d be coming in fast to send them into a panic.
The sun peeked its head up in the sky, giving Jon more confidence to ride fast. He could see the abandoned cars and the debris on the road, and was able to easily avoid it all. The people from Black Hill had blocked parts of the road and also hung signs to warn trespassers. Jon slowed only a bit as he approached those obstacles, easily maneuvering around them as his bike puffed clouds of dirt into the sky.
A barrier stretched across the entire width of the road, decorated with signs that read "Private Property" and "Trespassers Will Be Shot." This was where the vehicles carrying Jon's friends stopped for now, and where they'd wait for him to start the attack on Black Hill. From here, they could see the camp, and the drivers knew the cue to be looking for before barreling down the road to the camp.
Once he got past the barrier, Jon focused on the open stretch of road in front of him, and the camp ahead, which had once been a small retail area where people had come to get gas, swing by the hardware store, or do their laundry. Black Hill had put other things on the road to scare people off. More signs, some bones, and even a stake with a decapitated zombie head spiked through the top of it. But none of this deterred Jon. He turned the throttle on the bike, increasing the speed up to 70 mph as he raced toward Black Hill.
As he approached, he saw a couple of guards at the gate stepping up to the fence. One of them took another look at him and then ran back into the camp toward the gas station and appeared to be yelling, likely warning others. Jon knew he couldn't drive straight down the road toward the gate—especially when he saw the other guard raise his gun and aim.
Jon pulled off the road as the first shot came. He reached down into his bag and pulled out a grenade. With it in his right hand, he gained a little more speed and then let go of the throttle as he came close enough to Black Hill's fence to attack. Keeping his left hand on the handlebar, he guided his index finger into the pin and pulled. He only had about six seconds, so he tossed the grenade over the fence with a hook shot. He then grabbed the throttle again and sped away as more shots were aimed toward him.
Driving around the right side of the camp, Jon heard the grenade go off, though a building obstructed his view of any damage. He heard screams and more gunfire in response, but the buildings protected him.
He drew another grenade from the bag. As he rode down the side of the camp, near the same place he'd gone through the busted part of the fence on his last visit, Jon pulled the pin in the same way he had before. He tossed it over the fence and into the camp, then veered to his right, riding away from the camp. The grenade went off between a couple of buildings, sending off another loud explosion that caused windows to break and more people to scream.
Jon then turned around in the grass and headed back for the front of the camp. He drew another from his bag. This was going to be the riskiest one, because he figured there were going to be more people near the front of the camp now, all of them ready to shoot. But it was still dark enough outside to where Jon would be difficult to see, and he also thought the people might still be trying to organize themselves for a counterattack.
Coming around the corner of the camp’s exterior, Jon pulled the pin and tossed the third grenade into the camp. A couple of people shot at him, and he ducked down low and pulled away from the camp in order to get away from the firing.
The grenade landed near the front gate, and Jon looked back to see a man running toward it to grab it and toss it back over the fence. But as the man bent down to grab the explosive, it blew up. Jon turned away from the scene, hearing the screams coming from the camp even as he focused on getting away.
Jon rode around the other side of a shipping container sitting out near the front of the camp, which gave him plenty of cover from Black Hill. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the small flashlight, which he shined down the road toward his friends.
He watched the headlights come on toward him as the three vehicles came speeding down the road. More shots came from inside Black Hill, but that didn't stop the contingent from Hope's Dawn and Freedom Ridge.
Raylon was driving the vehicle in the front, and Jon heard him scream a war cry as he sped by. Jon pulled in behind the three vehicles on his bike.
The SUV blew through the front gate of Black Hill, busting it down and nearly taking out some people standing just inside the gate.
The war had finally arrived, and Jon and the others had brought it right to Malcolm's doorstep.
31
Malcolm shot up at the sound of an explosion. As was his instinct, he reached for the pistol sitting on top of his side table. He aimed the gun at the door and remained still, listening.
Gunshots sounded outside. People screamed. Most of the sounds were faint, probably from near the front of the camp, but he could definitely hear people near the church yelling and crying out.
He threw his legs over the side of the bed and put on his pants and a shirt. Then, he made his way over to the door.
As he walked out into the sanctuary, the front door of the church opened. Malcolm pointed the gun that way, only the meager sunlight coming into the large room through the stain-glass windows allowing for him to see anything. The shadow raised their hands into the air.
"Boss, it's just me," Bennett said.
Malcolm slowly lowered his weapon. "What's going on out there?"
Bennett ran up the middle aisle of the church toward the stage, which Malcolm stood on top of. "We're being attacked. It's gotta be those assholes from Freedom Ridge."
No shit, Malcolm thought, wanting to wring the throat of one of his top men. Malcolm hadn't been so naive as to think it wasn't possible that Freedom Ridge would attack, but he hadn't thought it would happen this soon. One thing he knew for sure was that the Savage had to be with them.
"Did Bryce come back?" Malcolm asked.
"I haven’t seen him, no." Bennett took a couple of steps forward. "You need to stay here in the church," Bennett said. "Go back to you room and let me handle this."
Malcolm gripped the gun in his hand tighter. The Savage was here. He could feel it. It was almost as if the pendulum around his neck, connected to the both of them, was telling him so. He wanted to find the man and kill him, but Bennett was right. He should stay there and wait.
He nodded. "Kill every last one of them except the Savage, and bring him to me alive."
&nb
sp; Bennett smiled. "I think I can do that. Lock this door behind me and just wait. I'll bring him to you."
Bennett turned and jogged to the door, and Malcolm walked to the front of the church and locked the door behind him. He didn't even bother looking outside, only listening to the chaos as he made his way back to his room. There, he changed into a button-up shirt and khaki pants. He lit some candles and sat on the edge of the bed, where he tried to meditate, but he was too anxious.
He knew this would end soon.
Malcolm waited.
32
Sticking with the plan, the drivers of the three vehicles pulled into the camp and turned their vehicles sideways, parking them bumper-to-bumper in order to form a wall.
Brooke jumped out of the SUV and found cover on the other side of it, opposite the fire coming from the camp. There were still a few people behind the wall they'd built who'd been guarding the gate, but Raylon and a couple of the others from Freedom Ridge took them out before they could get any shots off. They'd been stunned by the grenades and then the vehicles flying in through the gate, and hadn't had time to regroup. With them gone, the group now had a solid barrier between them and all of the gunfire coming from Black Hill.
Positioning herself near the front of the SUV, Brooke poked her head up to survey the battleground. Almost as quickly as she'd gotten up to look, though, Brooke had to take cover again as bullets came toward them from many locations.
"We're sitting ducks here," Terrence said to her. "We've got decent cover, but for how long?"
Brooke glanced over at Raylon, positioned behind the next SUV, and waved him over. Crouching, he moved between the vehicles so that he could kneel next to Brooke and Terrence.
Dead South | Book 4 | Dead Love Page 11