The Rising (The End Time Saga Book 3)

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The Rising (The End Time Saga Book 3) Page 18

by Daniel Greene


  In one minute it was over, and Garrett and Lenny ran for the perimeter, guns in hand, but the shooting was done. Steele and Ahmed climbed down from their perch, and she watched as he embraced Gwen, both rugged and gentle at the same time. A pang of jealousy stabbed her gut.

  “Did you see a boy?” Gwen said into his chest. He pushed her away and held her outward from himself. His eyes read her for answers.

  “What boy?” His head jerked toward the beach.

  Gwen shrugged his arms away. “He was about four or five. He was out there when they came out of the shallows.”

  “No,” he said quietly.

  Tess interrupted. “About this high and black hair?” she said, holding a hand to her chest.

  “No, shorter with blond hair,” she sniffled.

  “No one was there,” he said. He looked to her for confirmation.

  “I can’t think of any children here that look like that, but people come and go. Garrett, can you call everyone together? I have an announcement to make,” she said, eying Steele. He stared back and nodded. Good, he’s ready. But what if we don’t get Pagan back?

  Garrett’s voice boomed like metal scraping over concrete. “Everyone to the semi. Everyone to the food truck.” Most people had been hiding in their tents and campers. Blinds shifted in windows. Tents unzipped. Car doors opened, revealing the scared, tired faces of Little Sable Point waiting to die or run.

  They were a disorganized herd of sheep with only a pack of wild dogs that could bolt at any time to keep the wolves at bay. Thunder had a good heart, but she also knew that he would do just about anything to survive, and if that meant abandoning Little Sable Point, then so be it. If any man can do this, Steele can.

  The people gathered around the food trailer. Big Bessie watched from nearby, beady eyes scrutinizing the crowd. No food would leave here without some sort of payment or at least a broken hand. She twirled a tire iron in her meaty paws, ready to lash out if the crowd made a rush for her stash. Tess grabbed a handrail and hauled herself onto the edge of the trailer.

  “Is everyone here? Are we missing anyone?” she called out. People turned to one another, shaking their heads.

  “Gwen, come up,” she commanded. The beautiful blonde stepped up next to her. “This is Gwen. She’s worried about a missing child. So please hear her out.” I know why he picked her. Look at her. Her hair is spun from gold. Her cheekbones and nose are regal. She is more of a damn queen than a woman.

  “I’m new to Little Sable Point, so I don’t know everyone.” People shifted, watching her impatiently.

  “I saw a little boy earlier. I don’t know his name.” Her voice quivered. “He was playing with the other children near the edge of camp. He’s about five years old, blond, blue eyes, about this tall.”

  People glanced at one another. Some rested hands on their own children. Gwen was met with the chirp of crickets. Tess glanced worriedly at the woman. Someone must know whose child it was. “He was wearing a red star shirt and was outside the camp before the dead came.”

  Gwen peered out, reading the crowd for anything, desperate for something. “Is anyone missing a child?” she called out, her voice rising an octave by itself. The people spoke in low tones to one another.

  “Please, he went down to the water. The infected came out of the shallows and we couldn’t find him.” She was met with silence.

  “You think we would know if one of our kids was gone, lady,” Jack shouted from the crowd. He was tall, bald, and annoyed the hell out of Tess on multiple occasions.

  “Get off the food truck,” shouted another. Several other choruses of voices exclaimed their dissatisfaction with Gwen.

  Tess lifted her hands off her shoulder harnessed 1911 and raised her hands up, calling for calm. “Now, now. We have to be sure. No one is missing boys, girls, or otherwise.” She was met with a chorus of nos. She gave Gwen a sympathetic look.

  “I’m sure Gwen was only confused. We’re all under a lot of stress here. She’s no different.” The crowd listened and quieted down. She gave Gwen a pat on the back. The woman’s lip trembled a bit, resting into a face of unhappiness. “Go get some rest. It was a misunderstanding.” She had empathy for the woman, but Steele looked like he had a mess on his hands with her. He’s probably looking for an easy way out.

  “I know what I saw,” Gwen mumbled, stepping down from the back of the trailer.

  “I know you did,” Tess said, watching her go.

  She and Steele argued in hushed tones next to the trailer, Gwen’s arms holding her stomach. Steele gestured outward with his hands.

  “I’m glad everyone’s accounted for,” Tess said. The people of Little Sable nodded their agreement.

  “The missing child is not the only reason I called you all together today.” She stepped from side to side, speaking loud so everyone could hear her.

  “As you know, Pagan and I have stood up for Little Sable Point since the beginning. We have kept our doors open. Most stay because it’s safer than out there and because of the gracious protection of Thunder and the Red Stripes.” She gave Thunder a nod. He smiled back at her, a red bandana holding his long gray hair.

  “We found Pagan.” People murmured. She nodded and a rumble ran through the ranks.

  “Where is he?” shouted Jack, head and shoulders above the rest.

  “He’s at a power plant about fifteen miles from here. He’s a captive of a large group.” They talked nervously amongst themselves.

  “Let’s get him back,” shouted Trent. The goateed hunter held up a bolt-action rifle.

  “What do they want with us?” asked Joey. She was a young mother with dirty short blonde hair and a scared look on her face at all times.

  “I’m not sure. But there are a good number more of them than us.” This sent them into a tizzy, all of it related to fear.

  “Why would they take him?” yelled Nathan. He was a tall African-American man wearing a dirty white-collared shirt.

  “How do we know they won’t come here?” shouted Margaret. The older woman’s brow creased in concern. She had shown up at the camp two weeks ago, alone with only a shovel in hand.

  “We should join them.” All their voices talked over one another. Confusion. Chaos. Fear ruled the crowd, threatening to quickly turn them into a mob. Boots hit the metal back of the trailer. She glanced over at Steele, his shoulders wide beneath his tactical vest, gun slung across his chest. She noticed he had put his badge out on top of the vest. Do you think that holds power over these people still? Underneath his beard, she could see his jaw tensing.

  “Thanks for the great intro,” he said out of the side of his mouth.

  “I thought I would give you a taste of what is to come.” He gave her a dark glare as the people argued amongst themselves.

  After a few moments, the crowd settled down, all eyes drawn to the warrior before them. He stood quiet, looking back at them as if he were judging them as much as they were him. The last person quieted down, and he spoke.

  “People of Little Sable Point, I’m Mark Steele.”

  “Yeah. Who cares?” Jack shouted, and the crowd laughed.

  Steele pointed at Tess. “Your leader Tess cares. Thunder cares. But to be frank, I don’t care if you care.”

  Jack shut his mouth as others snickered around him.

  “I am a former counterterrorism agent with the Division.”

  “What the hell is that?” said Linda. The short woman had only been there for less than a week and didn’t trust a soul.

  “We hunt terrorists,” he said.

  “Where’s your little ‘Division’ now?” Jack piped up.

  “As far as I know, gone.” The words seemed to almost sting him, but he kept it in. “My entire team is gone.” He grimaced while he said that. “I came all the way from Virginia back to Michigan to find a man, Patient Zero, the originator of the virus.”

  “You find him?” shouted Nathan.

  “Yes, and after we found him, we turned him over
to the military.”

  “Where’s the military now?” asked a pale man, Jason. He had been a hand at a nearby dairy farm before the outbreak.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe Colorado? There’s no telling.”

  “A lotta help you government pukes are. Me and my family were in a FEMA camp near Van Andel Arena when it was overrun. I lost my mother and father because those bastards couldn’t keep the dead away. Why should I trust anything you say?” Jack said.

  “Well, you’ll have to take me at my word. I’ve lost people too. A lot of people.”

  Jack snorted. “Then what good are you?”

  “I saw him take down twenty infected in thirty seconds earlier today,” Tess interjected. All eyes turned to her. “I saw him go out of his way to search for Pagan when he could have stayed here safe.” Steele glanced over at her, eyes thanking her. “I’ve seen what he can do, and I trust him to help keep us going until Pagan returns. Steele will help me lead Little Sable.” He nodded thanks to her.

  “What do you mean?” Harriet shouted, brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. “What about Pagan?”

  “Steele will step in for Pagan until we can get him back,” Tess said.

  Steele chimed in. “We aren’t the only people out there. People took Pagan and killed members of the Red Stripes. We need to prepare for the fact that they might come for us.”

  The people were quiet.

  “I’m allowing Steele to take charge of all security matters at Little Sable. I will assist him and hold him accountable and he will do the same for me. He has given me his word that he will maintain our customs,” she called to them.

  “We’ve trusted people like him before, and all it got us was dead. Go fuck yourself,” Jack said.

  “It’s not just the rival group we have to worry about. Do you know how many infected march this way as we speak?”

  “No,” Jack said.

  “The East Coast has been eradicated. The Pentagon has fallen. The only thing coming this way is a wall of dead a hundred miles long.”

  Children cried. People’s eyes went wide. Mouths dropped open.

  “Millions of the dead are coming west.”

  “How can you say that?” Joey said. The young mother clutched a bald baby to her chest.

  “It’s the truth. We must be honest with what we are dealing with. I don’t think they will come this way en masse because Michigan is a peninsula, but thousands will come as people flee ahead of them, and we have to be ready. I will help prepare you for what is to come until Pagan can be released. No one will be left behind, not even Pagan. We’ll get him out.”

  “Why don’t we join the other group?” shouted Steve.

  “Would you want to join a group that kills our members and holds the other hostage?” he said.

  “Well, of course not.”

  “I agree. It may be a misunderstanding, but we can’t give away our position or numbers.”

  “How will you protect us any better than Pagan?” Jack said. He turned, looking at the people around with his hands out.

  “Thunder and his club do a great job.” Steele nodded at Thunder. The biker was emotionless. No smile. No frown. He was purely flat. Tess hoped that the plan her and Steele had to train Little Sable Pointers would not push the Red Stripes away. Power shifts from nation-states all the way down to small-town politics never came without a fight.

  “I’ll train up a group of volunteers to shoot and move like a unit. They will be called upon for defense of Little Sable Point against infected or otherwise.”

  “There aren’t enough of us to put up a fight against the dead,” Jack said.

  Steele looked down at him. “You’re right. But we will hit and move fast against foes that are dead or alive. There are people here who are familiar with this area. We will take the best terrain and fight battles on our terms.”

  People nodded in agreement. Steele took a deep breath, preparing for his steamroller of a speech.

  “We have a choice. We can hide, dreading the day of our demise. Sure, we live for awhile, maybe even in relative peace, but someday the dead will come, or those fools at the power plant will come and put us down like dogs. Worse than that. They’ll eat you alive or cut you to pieces.” He paused, letting the fear of the situation sink into their brains and guts.

  Hackles rose on the back of Tess’s neck. Goose pimples replaced hair follicles.

  “But we don’t have to live in fear. We can stand up. Train up. Expand our reach. Defend ourselves against all enemies, dead or living, and fight. Fight for something greater than ourselves.”

  “What’s that?” someone screamed.

  “If the people to your left and your right aren’t worth fighting for, maybe you should find a new community. We can fight for each other. We can fight for life.”

  “Fight for Sable!” Tess shouted next to him. He gave her a sideways glance. She looked back, surprised by her outburst.

  He lifted his hand slowly as a fist in the air. “For Sable!” he shouted.

  “Fight for Sable,” they shouted together. She raised her fist in the air with every shout.

  Soon people in the crowd took up the chant.

  “Fight for Sable! Fight for freedom! Fight for life!”

  For the first time since the outbreak, she felt an odd sense of hope. Her fist pumped in the air alongside this rock of a man. She smiled up at him and he down at her. She grabbed his hand, holding it high in the air. The people of Little Sable Point clapped and cheered.

  Gwen stared up at them from below, a twisted look on her face. Was it anger? Malice? Envy? It didn’t matter because whether Gwen liked it or not, Steele was tied to her now. A man like him never backed out on his word. Tess lifted their hands up higher in the air.

  STEELE

  Little Sable Point, MI

  He looked into the blank faces of the people in front of him. A young orange-haired kid, that couldn’t have been more than sixteen shifted on his feet, nervously bouncing.

  “This is all of them, out of over two hundred?” Steele asked Tess.

  “You said volunteer, not a draft.”

  Thunder and a few of his Red Stripes stood nearby offering their prior military training but not volunteering for the Little Sable defense unit. I couldn’t have expected club members to quit their brothers and tie themselves in with a bunch of people that would probably get gunned down by more experienced fighters. No, gunned down by more experienced men.

  Volunteer fighters who had a stake in defending their land, family, and the person beside them always fought harder than those conscripted or forced into service. Ancient landowning Greeks had set the foundation of the citizen soldier in western society, a tradition that had lasted through millennia and was imprinted on the souls of all free patriotic men. This tradition had been adopted by the Founding Fathers of the United States and built directly into the Bill of Rights as a fundamental safeguard.

  And all that answered the ancient call were ten people. Even after these men and women had been forced to scavenge, fight, and survive on their own, only a few wanted to provide for the common defense.

  Seven men stood before him. Three were beyond service age and one appeared to have come from a nursing home. There was a boy who couldn’t be more than sixteen and a woman pushing sixty; she looked like she could handle herself better than the lot of them. What am I going to do with them? Where do you even start with a group like this? Front leaning rest for pushups? No, they’d quit by twelve o’clock noon. The old man will definitely die.

  Steele paced slowly in front of them, thinking of a way to begin. He had kept his badge out on his chest, hoping that it would strengthen his position in their eyes. He eyed Kevin and Ahmed standing nearby. Ahmed raised his eyebrows at him. Kevin stood, lanky arms crossed over his chest. They both were in their ACUs and had their M4s. They will fight, but it’s not enough.

  “Everyone’s here for their own reason. Something has lit a fire in your hearts to stand before me, and t
hat’s good because I can’t fight for you.”

  He continued walking. “However, I can train you to be more effective in a fight and maybe help you stay alive longer out here.”

  He stopped in front of the boy. Big ears stuck off of his head. Freckles dotted his nose and cheeks. A mop of wavy orange hair sat atop his head. “Why are you here? What can you provide this unit?”

  “You even shave yet?” Garrett hollered over at the boy. The boy gulped, trying to stick out his narrow chest.

  Steele gave Garrett a sidelong glance. “Let the boy speak.”

  “So I can hear about his high score in a video game,” Garrett said, with a grin. “This is real life, boy,” he yelled at him. “Can’t respawn here.”

  “I said enough, Garrett.” Steele outfaced the big biker. Steele’s hand itched up his sidearm. Garrett stuck his chin up, towering over Steele.

  “I don’t care where you been. I bet I been worse,” Garrett said, looking down at Steele trying to minimize him. Steele contemplated which way he would strike the man to bring him down. Larger opponents would usually try to overpower their smaller opponents. As the smaller of the two, Steele would distract the man with a kick to his knee and move to disarm him. Then he would have to deal with the responses from Thunder, Half-Barrel, and Bird. If they didn’t kill him on the spot, they would certainly beat his face inside out and his great experiment would be over.

  “Your little badge don’t mean nothin’ out here.”

  Just a piece of metal now, but it symbolizes a layer of trust between the government and the people. “Might not, but I told you to back off.” Steele’s hand found his tomahawk, eyes never leaving Garrett’s. Steele shifted his feet under him, bracing himself. I’ll break his jaw with the flat-ended piece before he can blink.

  Garrett glowered down, fists clenching at his sides, nose flaring out.

  “Enough, Garrett,” Thunder bellowed. “These are our friends.” Garrett let himself shrink an inch.

  Steele turned toward Thunder and nodded. Thunder weighed him.

 

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