Ten minutes into the trek, she located a mobile radio on what appeared to be the remains of a citizen of Chicago. She retrieved it, verified that it was on the right channel and turned it on. A red light illuminated indicating that it still had a charge. She looked around, cupped her hand over the speaker and activated the push to talk button. It responded with a muted double beep. She spoke softly.
“Highwaymen Station, this is Agent 133. Do you copy?”
She released the button and waited. Ten seconds later she had a response.
“Agent 133, Broken Wing activated. I repeat Broken Wing activated.”
“Agent 133 copies. Broken Wing activated. Agent 133 on foot. Will be arriving from the South in approximately…” Janice looked at her watch. “…thirty minutes”
“Agent 133 on foot, arriving from the South in thirty minutes. Bravo Whisky Out.”
The Highwaymen station had been compromised but the Franklin Clinic was still operational. Janice made her way along the streets cautiously. About forty minutes later she arrived across the street to the south. She activated the radio.
“Bravo Whiskey, approaching from the South. Don’t shoot.”
She waited for a response before she exited her cover. A minute passed without a response. She studied her radio to make sure it still held a charge. It was glowing red. She adjusted the volume and tried again.
“Bravo Whiskey, this is Agent 133. Approaching from the South. Don’t shoot. I repeat. This is Agent 133 approaching from the South. Don’t shoot.”
Janice awaited a response. The radio activated and she could hear breathing. A voice answered in a whisper.
“Stand fast Agent 133. Broken Wing is hot. Out.”
Any questions she had about the situation were answered when an RPG produced a tank sized hole in the east wing of the Franklin Clinic. On the streets to the east of the building were hundreds of people. They were gathered for a last stand. Bravo Whiskey didn’t stand a chance.
Chapter 19: The Frequency Map
At seven in the morning an alarm on Shannon’s watch beeped waking her and Lester up. They were cuddled into each other on the couch. Jerrell was sleeping in the chair next to the studio equipment with his feet propped on top of the console. Shannon turned on the flashlight and noticed something written on the bottom of the mousepad on the floor. She tilted her head with the attempt to read it.
“What’s that?” Lester asked.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” She grumbled.
“What does that mean?” Lester noticed what Shannon was inspecting and asked while struggling to read the numbers written on the back of the mousepad.
“It’s the frequency map. Les, we found it!” She wore a massive grin.
Jerrell awoke in a squint shielding his eyes from the glow of the flashlight.
“What’s going on?” Jerrell asked.
“Your feet must have knocked over the mousepad. Look, it’s the map. It’s the frequency map, Jerrell!” Shannon radiated.
“So we’re saved then?” He asked.
“Well, we still need fuel for the generator. But we don’t have to go back to the Paul Simon Safe House again.” Lester explained.
“So, we risked our lives for no reason? Tommy…Tommy’s probably out there eating some dude’s face and we had the map here all along?” Jerrell felt sick.
“We don’t know if he was bit. All we know is he’s stuck out there by himself. He could be coming back with the map any minute now.” Lester explained.
“I doubt it. There’s no way he survived all night out there by himself. I haven’t heard any more gunshots since yesterday.” Jerrell groaned.
“But we don’t know for sure. That’s better than knowing he’s one of those monsters.”
“I’d rather know.”
“I’d rather have hope.” Shannon dangled the mousepad in front of him.
“If we leave to get the fuel, how will he know where we’ve gone? If he’s not a zombie, of course.” He added.
“Just leave a note for him.” Shannon answered and handed him a pen and paper.
“I could just stay and wait for him.” Jerrell suggested.
“That’s a bad idea. Two or more outside the door.” Lester recited a rhyme the Highwaymen taught all those who leave the gates of the city.
“But I’m safe in here.”
“Like we were at the Paul Simon Safe House?” Shannon argued.
“Then we’re never safe.”
“You’re right. Better to encounter those things together than to do it alone.” Shannon added.
“So, what should I tell him?” Jerrell held the pen in his hand and gazed at the blank paper nervously.
“The truth.” Lester advised.
“He’ll hate us.”
“Maybe, but if we do nothing we’ll die. If you lie to him, there’s a chance he’ll discover the truth and will never trust us again. Did we lie to him about Tim?”
“No, but he needed to know the truth. His dad would have bit him if we didn’t.”
“Trust is an important thing nowadays. You lose that, well, you might not ever get it back.” Lester confessed.
“Fine, I’ll leave him a letter. What can it hurt? I can just throw it away when we get back.”
“Exactly!” Shannon placed the mousepad on the desk and patted her brother on his back.
“I know the perfect place to check first.” Lester pulled out a map from his backpack.
*
After hours of waiting for the opportunity to escape the cellar, Tommy inelegantly pulled himself out of the now deformed cardboard box he was resting in. Clutching his weapon tightly, he ascended the mossy concrete steps. Everything within him wanted to go back to the WVON building. Yet, he needed to get the frequency map from the Paul Simon Safe House or everyone would eventually die. Jerrell was too spooked to finish the mission. Tommy accepted his fate and hurried through the opening. Sunrise had come an hour earlier. He had been sleeping down there overnight. The thought of being eaten while sleeping haunted him.
The field between the transmission tower and the Safe House was clear of threats. Tommy hurried across keeping low enough to be covered by the tall overgrown grass. Several charred patches of grass indicated expelled land mines. He made sure to step in the charred patches of grass just in case some of the mines were still active. Blood, torn clothes and severely damaged doors and windows decorated the landscape of the once best-maintained Safe House of the Highwaymen.
The faint smell of Azrael loitered in the air from dead zombies scattered about. Apparently the living Azrael smell worse than the dead ones. Tommy thought. He stepped over severed Azrael limbs and headless bodies on his way to the communication room. He attempted to open the door to the room without success. It was locked from the inside. He poked his head in the window to see if he could see someone inside to let him in. Tommy noticed someone in the corner moving. He knocked his revolver on the window.
“Hey! Let me in.” He shouted.
The body in the corner turned and hurried to the door wild eyed. Five more entered view and they attacked the door violently. He staggered backwards in surprise and tripped over the corpse of a male Azrael. He looked back up at the window and several faces fought for window space as several eyes danced around in search of Tommy.
“Jesus! Six of them in there.” He whispered to himself.
He sat there and thought of a plan to get inside. Baffled by the situation, Tommy stood up and scratched his head. He wondered if there was a window in the room. He ventured around the building and discovered that the communications room was in the middle of the structure. There was no other way inside. He couldn’t just let them out. It was locked from the inside. He studied the ceiling, wondered if the metal tracks of the ceiling tiles would hold his weight. He jumped up and knocked a tile off its track. He brought in a deep breath.
“Let’s find out.” He spoke to himself.
Tommy jumped, grabbed the aluminum track and it i
mmediately buckled from his weight ripping from the joists of the walls. “Shit!” He cussed in response. He noticed the wall continue up to the next floor above the tile. It was completely blocked off. He thought of another room that could contain the frequency map.
“The guard shack.” He mumbled.
Tommy hurried over to it, gingerly stepped on the charred spots and found it collapsed. The wooden structure was buckled as if something large fell on top of it. What poor craftsmanship, he thought. He wondered why the mines never sprayed shrapnel through the shack. The four walls of ballistic grade steel leaned on top of themselves with scratches and dents. Apparently the frame was wood and it was enforced with steel. He figured that it was quickly erected before the personnel were shuttled over.
He rummaged through the pieces, found a crushed fleshy mass beneath and pulled back. He caught an ounce of bravery, pushed away the debris and dragged out the corpse. The body was broken everywhere and his skull was crushed. Shards of bone, brain and hair were lying within the skull like a bowl. The lower jaw was still intact and wore a well-groomed beard. As he pulled the body out, a laminated document caught his attention along with a small black LED flashlight. Tommy depressed the button on the flashlight. It worked. He studied the information on the paper. It revealed the frequency map in coded language, a language they were taught within the first week they arrived. Bingo!
Tommy lifted his shirt and wedged it beneath the waistband of his underwear. It wouldn’t fit in his pockets and he didn’t want to be caught by the Azrael with only one hand to shoot his revolver. He scanned the area for dangers. Once satisfied with the search, he jogged over to the WVON building. He passed the transmission tower, the shack and reached the door. He banged on it. The door swung open with minimal pressure.
“Hello?” He whispered.
It was quiet. He activated the flashlight with his left thumb and tactically entered the building with his weapon drawn in his right hand. The room smelled like rotten food. A fridge sat half opened near the door and some old decaying food was stuck to the back with a fuzzy green coating of mold on it. He walked into the studio. It was empty. Either they abandoned the building altogether or were out looking for him. Next to the radio was a note.
Tommy,
Went looking for fuel for the generator. I hope you are alive to read this. Don’t be mad but Shannon found a frequency map written in pen beneath the mousepad. If we’re not back by nightfall, then we’re probably dead.
Jerrell
P.S. Sorry I left you dude.
Surprisingly, Tommy wasn’t upset that he risked his life for nothing. He was just glad that he was back in a secure place once more. The WVON building was the safest place he could be at the moment. He shut, locked the back door and slid a desk that was nearby in front of it. He thought about moving the fridge in front of it too, but it was too heavy for him to do alone. Satisfied with the result, he retreated into the studio and embraced a much-needed nap on the couch.
Chapter 20: Spiritual Guidance
An image of two figures entered Randall’s vision in a haze. A few seconds later, his view sharpened. Sitting on the porch steps, Ashlee was braiding Brooke’s hair.
“Glad to see you again.” Ashlee leaned to her left from behind Brooke’s head and ruffled her nose.
“You saved all those people. Nice job.” Brooke added. She inspected her right finished braid and rubbed her fingers across the plaits with curiosity.
“I did what needed to be done. Anybody would have done the same.”
“That’s not true. That’s not true at all, Randall.” Ashlee disagreed.
“They were torturing that poor kid. It made me so angry.”
“But they were human…and you didn’t kill them even though you could have.” Ashlee speculated.
“I could have and part of me felt like they deserved it. But I don’t even know what I am. If I were in their shoes, I wouldn’t have tortured the kid but I wouldn’t have felt safe around him.” Randall admitted.
“So, you did the right thing.”
“I did what I felt was the right thing. Doesn’t make what I did right or wrong.”
“And you were rewarded for your good deed.”
Randall rubbed his stomach.
“It was good.”
“So, what’s next?” Ashlee asked.
“Guess we’ll find some place to live peacefully with Brian. Could go back to the place I stayed with Brooke.” Randall suggested and gestured to Brooke. She shook her head with disapproval.
“That’s not going to work.” Ashlee opposed as well.
“Why not?”
“The Alpha is not your only enemy.” Ashlee clarified.
“Man?”
“Yes and no.” She said.
“What does that mean?”
“There are others, like the Alpha, others more dangerous than him.” Brooke explained and rubbed at her neck as she thought about her final encounters with that monster.
“How do you know this?”
“There is much we see in the afterlife. You’re not the only Azrael we’re watching. There are others that control the fate of this world.” Brooke answered and pointed into her eyes.
“What do you want me to do then?”
“Go to Rend Lake…oops!”
Brooke’s eyes immediately widened and she covered her mouth with her left hand. Ashlee tugged her hair.
“You’ve given him quite enough.” Ashlee snorted.
“Where’s Rend Lake?” Randall asked.
“Our time is up, Randall.” Ashlee admitted.
Brooke and Ashlee’s bodies faded away like smoke in the breeze. Harry exited the front door with a rat in his mouth walking through the dissolving wisps. Randall blinked several times and shook his head. He grunted and turned around. Bear and Karla were in a field nearby teaching Brian how to hunt. They cornered a large buck within an electric fence. Life can’t be simple. Randall thought.
Harry bit off the rat’s head and offered the rest to Randall. He turned up his nose and shook his head. Harry shrugged, swallowed the crushed rat skull and placed the decapitated creature back into his mouth. He hurried over to help the others with the Buck.
Randall entered the house seeking the map of the state that he remembered before his vision with his dead wife and Brooke. It was pinned to a corkboard with silver thumbtacks. A good portion of the map was highlighted with inked in comments about Azrael infestations. Nothing was written about the area they were located. Whoever lived there before must have left or was turned before annotating the current status. It was quite possibly a year or two out of date. He scanned the map for Rend Lake with his right index finger. To the south he found the massive “Y” shaped lake. It was a considerable distance away from their current location, a farmhouse just south of Clinton. It was just over 150 miles away. Not a quick transit. He thought.
Fortunately, the direct route to the lake should encompass a wide variety of once domesticated farm animals. Human interference no longer dictates Mother Nature’s natural circle of life. Hence, it should also contain a decent selection of nature regulated animal population.
Randall pulled out the thumbtacks, folded the map and carried it outside with a blind knowledge about Rend Lake’s importance. What will he find there? Why was it such a big deal that Brooke brought up the place? He worried about potential threats and how well Brian would fit into the group. His worries about Brian ended as he observed the young Azrael teen wrestle the buck to the ground by its antlers. Sure, he was impaled several times afterwards that would have undoubtedly slaughtered a normal man but Bear provided assistance, pinning the beast down with his massive size and strength. A few seconds later, they managed to break the massive stag’s neck. He placed the map in his pocket, walked over and joined in on the meal that provided a rich nutrient diet for the trip.
Bear leaned against the side of the barn with his back and sat rubbing at his full belly. Harry and Karla sat next to him wearing
a food euphoric gaze towards a grouping of puffy white clouds. Brian rested on his back in the grass. He was moments from entering a food coma when he noticed Randall’s actions. Randall sat on his knees, wiped the blood off of his hands in the grass and stretched out the map. He groaned and grunted a few times seeking the attention of the others. They turned their attention to Randall with curiosity. Randall pointed towards Rend Lake and towards the south. Brian crawled over and inspected the map. He stood on his knees, slapped the grass and gestured to the map with a shrug. Randall found Clinton and poked just below it. Brian gasped. He stretched out his hands, shook his head and sought Bear’s reaction. He raised his shoulders, brought himself to his feet and began a slow trot to the south. The other two followed Bear. Brian turned his head back to Randall. He was already on his feet folding up the map and swiftly jogged over to catch the others. Drawn to the dominance in the air and realizing that he was falling behind, Brian quickly hurried towards the others.
They had begun a new journey, a journey that not all would return from.
Chapter 21: Spilling the Beans
Resting in a dirty brown recliner, Stephanie awoke in handcuffs with her feet tied together. She shimmied her body into a new comfortable position on her left side. Resting on a large sofa two feet away, Savanna stared back at her with eyes that cut into her soul.
The Azrael (Book 5): Prisoners Page 13