American Revenant (Book 3): The Monster In Man

by John L. Davis IV

  American Revenant:

  The Monster In Man

  By

  John L. Davis IV

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  COPYRIGHT

  FOR THE READER

  THE DEDS…

  Chapter 1

  “Are you sure about this, Gordon? Is this really what you want to do?”

  “I don’t want to go back to Hannibal, Jan, but I think it’s important that we do. We need to check the National Guard Armory; and try to reach the hospital, see if we can’t find you at least some of the equipment you need to begin working on the viral pathology. The guys have already said they’re willing to go.”

  “Gordon, you know that every one of those men would follow you straight into Hell itself, if you asked them to, right?”

  Gordy rubbed his palms over his face several times, thinking about Jan’s words. “Yeah, I know. I also know that going back out there may be doing just that, going into Hell itself.”

  “You’ve gotten the council to agree on it, but you should really take some time to plan it out.”

  “I got them to agree on it, but I still think Tam wants to take a swing at me. I thought she was going to chew my head clean off.”

  “A lot has happened, and she’s scared to send anyone back out there, especially Jimmy. Tam’s terrified that the girls are going to end up without a father, and it’s something she thinks about every time he goes out. Whether anyone admits it or not, we all think it, every single time people leave the safety of the Camp.”

  Gordy stood up, stretching his back and flexing his left knee. He took stock of the tiny dispensary, impressed with the work that Jan and Anna had done. The makeshift shelves were all full and neatly labeled, allowing them to find what they needed quickly as well as making it easier to inventory.

  “Your knee hurting you?”

  “Not really, it’s just a bit stiff and achy today.”

  Jan stood, refolding her chair and slipping it between her cot and the wall. “I’ll give you an anti-inflammatory now, and I have some corticosteroid cream you can use in the evening, it should help with the discomfort.” Gordy swallowed the tablets she gave him with a swig from his water bottle.

  “I need to get up and move around, you want to go for a walk?”

  “No, you go, but take it easy on that knee, Gordon.”

  Gordy nodded and gave his wife a quick kiss before heading out the door, turning toward the rumbling sound of the backhoe in the distance.

  Moving down the path leading to the concrete pool, which had become long term water storage for the camp, Gordy kept an easy pace, in no hurry to reach his destination. He stopped in his tracks when he heard someone shouting his name behind him. Gordy did not realize that he had reached for the holstered Sig P227 he was carrying until he had turned completely around to see Louis waving and calling his name.

  Waiting for the boy to reach him, Gordy relaxed, letting his arm fall to his side. “Hey, Louis, what’s the hurry?” he called out.

  “Hey, uh, Gordy, sir,” he said, between drawing heaving breaths, “Dean wanted me to run up and report something to you.”

  Gordy nodded, staring at the boy, letting him catch his breath before asking, “Well, what were you supposed to report?”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. Uh, there’s been a truck drive by on 79 several times now, since you guys came back from Frankford a few days ago. Dean thought it was odd, that it just drives by; slowing for a second when it passes by our road, then keeps on going. That’s what he wanted me to tell you.”

  “What kind of truck is it, and when was the last time anyone saw it?”

  “It’s an old pickup, we saw it about half an hour ago, heading south on 79. That was the first time anyone saw it today.”

  “Ok, thanks. Let Dean know that I’ll be down in about an hour to talk to him about it. You guys keep a sharp eye.”

  “Uh, ok, Gordy, uh, sir.” Gordy chuckled as Louis took off at a run. He could not figure out why, but the boy got nervous around him now, more so than he had even a week ago.

  Returning to his walk, Gordy quickened his pace a little. He wanted to see the progress on the wall before he went down to talk to Dean.

  He followed the deep and slightly choppy rumble of the backhoe until the sound suddenly cut off, leaving the woods oddly quiet for a moment. That quiet was ruptured by shouts from the same direction. Gordy stepped up his pace, but didn’t start running until he heard someone yell, “Zombies in the trees!”

  The air-horn carried by the person on top-watch began to blare loudly, and Gordy realized the shout must have been heard back at camp.

  Gordy hurried past the concrete pool, following the rutted path left by the heavy equipment. Even running past, in a rush to reach the work crew, Gordy found himself impressed with the speed the group was working. They had put up a solid wall nearly five hundred feet past the pool area. At the rate they were working the entire defensive structure could be finished before the first snowfall.

  Everyone at the worksite turned, raising their weapons at the sound of Gordy’s pounding footsteps. Everett, who was still sitting on the tractor, lowered his pistol quickly, while the others looked back toward Jimmy, who was impaling the last of four zombies with a five foot long sharpened pole.

  Gordy didn’t stop running until he stood beside Lynn, who still had her Bushmaster M4 shouldered as she continued to scan the surrounding woods. Bending over, grasping his knees, Gordy sucked in air, regaining his breath far faster than he would have nearly a year ago.

  “You ok, Gordy?” Rick asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. What the hell happened out here?”

  Everett slowly made his way down from the backhoe, joining Jimmy, Rick, Garret, and Lynn as they stood around Gordy. Gordy held his hand up, just as Everett, Garret and Lynn began talking at the same time. “One at a time, guys.”

  “Zombies came out of the trees,” Rick said. “We didn’t notice the first one until Everett shouted as he ran it down. It’s still under there,” Rick told him, pointing to the front of the backhoe.

  Gordy walked around the front of the tractor, staring down at the gut-sucker pinned beneath the heavy front tire.

  The creature was not yet dead, even though its entire mid-section had been completely crushed beneath the wheel of the heavy machinery. Turning its head as Gordy approached, the zombie’s teeth snapped together repeatedly, the sharp clacking causing muscles to tense in the bystander’s necks. It reached for Gordy with an unpinned arm, broken, decaying fingers clutching at empty air.

  “Hand me that pole,” Gordy said, reaching behind him, waiting for the sharpened stick to be placed in his hand.

  Grasping it tightly, Gordy shoved hard on the
pointed stave, audibly popping the left eyeball and burying the end in the soft, freshly loosened earth beneath the dead thing’s head.

  “Anyone have an idea where these might have come from?” Gordy asked the group as he yanked the pole out, splattering brain tissue over his boots.

  Just as Rick opened his mouth to answer they heard gunshots in the distance. His mouth snapped shut as he turned to look at the others.

  Without a word Gordy turned around and began running toward the camp. “Rick, with me, Jimmy you stay here with the others! Watch the area!” he shouted back over his shoulder.

  Gordy and Rick made it to the main house in minutes. People were posted, firearms ready and eyes watchful. No children were present, having been ushered quickly into the nearest building, as had been planned.

  The two men didn’t stop to speak to anyone. They made for the nearest vehicle parked in the small lot in front of the main house, and drove toward the gate. Alex had taken an emergency guard position and Gordy hit the horn twice, letting him know to open the gate, and giving him the return signal at the same time.

  Alex swung the gate open quickly, one hand raised palm up, as if to ask what was going on.

  “Going to find out,” Gordy shouted out the window as he passed Alex’s position without slowing. Once through the gate Gordy drove as fast as the roads would allow, making it to the cattle-guard drawbridge within minutes.

  Scanning the area, Rick could see Dean lying prone behind the tiny guard shack that had been built beside the makeshift bridge. He could just make out Rebecca’s ball cap through a tiny firing port in the wall of the structure.

  Gordy stopped the truck mere feet from where Dean lay watching down the road toward the highway, peering silently through the scope of a high-powered rifle. Exiting the vehicle, both Gordy and Rick crouched down behind open doors, making themselves a difficult target for anyone watching from a distance.

  “Dean, are you ok? Is anyone hurt?”

  “We’re fine Dad; more scared than anything.” Dean called back without removing his eye from the scope.

  Looking through the cab of the pickup truck, Gordy turned to Rick, “Cover me, I’m moving up.” Rick responded with a nod.

  Gordy surveyed the surrounding area once more before duck-walking the few feet to Dean’s position behind the guard shack. He heaved a sigh of relief when he made it to the small building without being fired on.

  Crouching beside Dean, his left knee shooting tiny bolts of pain at the stress placed on the worn joint, Gordy slowly leaned back against the wooden wall, and let himself slide to the ground, so that he sat next to his son.

  “What happened, and where’s Louis?”

  “Louis is in the house. Seems like they were just shooting in this direction, not really aiming for anything. A couple of rounds went through the shack, but no one was hurt.”

  Gordy glanced up and over his shoulder, looking for bullet holes in the wood planks they had used to fashion the tiny one person shack beside the draw-bridge. He could see at least two holes, high up on the wall.

  “I had just come out to relieve Becca; we were both standing outside when the first shot was fired. I dove into the ditch, pulling her with me. Whatever they were shooting, Dad, it was fully automatic.”

  Gordy silently examined his son for a moment. Dean’s eyes were large, and the skin around his facial scars glowed an angry red, though the rest of his face appeared slightly pale.

  “Everyone is ok, and that’s all that matters at this very moment. We’ll figure out the rest later. We’ll get everyone together for a meeting; see what we can do about this. Send Louis up for dinner a little early, and then have him relieve you and Becca. When you two finish eating we’ll get the meeting started.”

  Gordy stood up slowly, shaking the little shack as he leaned against it for support. “Easy out there! You’ll bring this damn thing down on top of me!”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Gordy said, laughing. He stood to his full height, squeezing his knee as he fully extended it, wincing at the burst of fiery pain that seemed to radiate all around the kneecap. “Rick and I are going to head back up. I don’t want either of you or Louis going out to investigate; hold your positions here. It’s about three hours to dinner-time,” he said, looking at his watch, “we’ll see you then.”

  Back in the truck and heading toward camp, Gordy told Rick to gather Jimmy, Mike and Alex to walk the woods. He wanted to be sure there were no more dead stumbling around in the trees. They all needed to watch for obvious signs of how the zombies could have gotten this far out. Something didn’t feel right to him.

  Chapter 2

  “We found a shit-load of tracks out there, both zombies and a couple of sets of boot prints. We followed them back to Brown Estates, just under a mile straight across from us through the woods,” Mike told those assembled at the pavilion behind the main house.

  “We cleared that little collection of houses weeks ago. Did it look like anyone was living out there?”

  “I don’t think so, Jan. But that place dead-ends pretty far back into the trees. People could drive in and out of there and we’d never know it.”

  Gordy sat with his head in his hands, his elbows resting on the rough wood of the weather-worn picnic table. Rubbing his temples, he sat up and looked at Mike, then to the other men that had gone searching the woods for zombies and clues.

  “It seems someone deliberately led those things close enough to let them follow the sound of the backhoe at work. People shooting at the guard shack minutes after the noise of the machinery went quite means that they were listening, waiting for their distraction to have its effect. Which indicates to me that whoever this is, they know more about us than we do about them.”

  “We need to fix that, and fast.”

  “Yes, we do, but we don’t even have a clue where to begin,” Calvin said in reply to Mike’s statement.

  “I’ve seen the truck several times now, I’m pretty sure I’d know it if I saw it again,” Dean told the group. “We can go out, scout the area, see if they are holed up somewhere nearby.”

  “No, not yet,” Gordy told his son. “We won’t stand much of a chance against people armed with fully automatic weapons. I say we move forward as we intended and go check out the armory. Once we’re better able to arm ourselves, then we can think about finding the jackasses that fired on you today.”

  “So what do we do in the meantime? Sit here on our asses, waiting for a horde of undead to shuffle into camp?” Jimmy glared around the room, daring someone to challenge him.

  Rick took Jimmy’s hard gaze and sent it right back. “No, Jimmy, we won’t just sit here on our asses. We put more people on the wall, and get it finished as fast as possible. We also send out a team to go investigate the armory.” Rick turned to Gordy, “I’m ready to go tomorrow morning. I think we should take three others, get close and watch the place for a while, just to be sure.”

  “I’m going,” Jimmy said, sitting down next to Tam.

  Tam sat next to her husband, just staring at him. For all of Jimmy’s anger, she was the one person he couldn’t bring himself to stare down with a challenging glare.

  “We need to slow down just a bit here guys, think this through before we go out there gunning for a fight.”

  “No disrespect, Gordy, but we’ve got people doing drive-bys and dropping zombies off outside our walls. Next it could be people with guns sneaking in and…” Alex left his thought unfinished. Everyone understood what came next.

  “I know, and I’m ready to go myself. I just hate the thought that we may be rushing out there right into trouble.”

  Gordy swept his gaze over the survivors sitting at the tables and leaning against posts. These people were his family, and sending them out to face the dangers of the world got harder every day.

  “What are you thinking, Dad?” Lynn asked.

  “Ok, we go out tomorrow. Dean, you’ve seen this truck repeatedly, I think you should join us just in case we com
e across it.” Dean nodded at his father in agreement. “Rick and Jimmy, myself, and Dean will head for the armory early tomorrow morning. Cal, Becca and Garret can man the guard post. Lisa, Evie, and Lynn will work with the kids on garden duty, while Alex handles top-watch. Once the gardening is finished, I think you should keep the kids inside for lessons tomorrow. Everyone else can join in on wall work.”

  Though the meeting was over, many people sat around sipping coffee and talking about the events of the day. Meetings tended to end as social events, often with people sitting late into the evening, sharing thoughts and company.

  Chapter 3

  Gordy, Rick, Dean, and Jimmy followed back roads from Saverton, entering Highway 61 about two and a half miles south of Hannibal. They would have to go another mile and a half to reach the armory, though they did not intend to drive right up to the door.

  They cruised slowly through the dead stoplight that separated Red Devil Road and Warren Barrett Drive. The now-abandoned General Mills plant appeared dark and brooding, a sulking giant, its massive parking lot nearly vacant; only a few scattered vehicles sat forlornly near the main entrance.

  Gordy slowed the De Soto, stopping on the railroad overpass just beyond the food manufacturing plant. He sat quietly for a moment, leaning forward over the steering wheel, contemplating the roadway before them. Without turning he asked his companions, “Do we leave the car here and walk the last couple of miles to the armory, or do we take a chance and drive past the gas stations, hotels, and Rickey Hollow to take a chance on drawing a horde of zombies out to follow us?”

  “I think we drive up as close as we can, there’s a little turnout that goes back into the trees, where you’d turn on to Clinic Road. We leave the car in the trees there. Besides, Dad, I’m not sure your knee can handle the walk there and back.”

  “Don’t you worry about my knee, or I’ll put you over it,” Gordy shot his son a grin and put the car into gear.

  Rolling slowly, not revving the engine, Gordy directed the De Soto around abandoned vehicles and desiccated bodies. Moving through the intersection of Highway 61 and Paris Gravel Road Gordy asked, “Does anyone else think it’s odd that we haven’t seen a gut-sucker at all yet?”