Borders: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Aftershock Series Book 3)

by Michael R. Watson

  “Could you tell where it came from?” asked Blake.

  “No, it was too far away. Forget about the coffee. Maybe we can see something from the air.”

  “We just need to be careful,” warned Blake. “Those shots could have come from one of those camps that shoots first and asks questions later.”

  “I don’t suppose we could be lucky enough that it’s someone shooting at Davis and Damon.”

  Blake extinguished the campfire with the still unpercolated coffee while Grayson went through an abbreviated flight check, eager to take off. They quickly rose into the air, reaching an altitude where they had a good vantage point in all directions.

  Seeing nothing initially, they began an increasing spiral search.

  “Charles! Look over there!” shouted Blake, pointing to the west.

  Grayson flew where Blake was pointing. “What do you see?”

  Blake continued to point. “Right there! Two men are running across that clearing!” Then he spotted a swarm of people who appeared to be pursuing them, and they were getting closer every second. “And they’re being chased!”

  ***

  “Daniel!” shouted John, gasping for air. “Do you hear that? It sounds like a helicopter.” He wrenched his neck around while he ran, stumbling, trying to see where it was.

  “Don’t stop running. I heard a second shot. They’re coming.”

  “You don’t suppose Uncle Don has a helicopter, do you?”

  The sound of the helicopter was getting louder. John stole another glance overhead, this time seeing the helicopter, but unable to see who was inside. “It looks like Grayson’s helicopter.”

  Daniel slowed and stopped, looking up. John was right. He looked behind them. From where they stood, there was no sign of their hunters yet, but he could hear them. “Try to get the pilot’s attention. Maybe he’ll help us.” Both he and John began to wave their arms in the air while beginning to run again from Don and his clan.

  ***

  “They’re waving,” reported Blake. “Bring us in closer.”

  Charles must have had the same idea, as he was already closing in on them.

  “Do you see who it is?” asked Blake with surprise. “It’s John and Daniel.”

  “I wonder why they’re being chased? On foot? And by whom?” asked Charles.

  “I hope we’re able to ask them. Get ahead of them and find a place to land.”

  “Will do.”

  Charles found a spot and set down as Blake opened the side door, waiting for John and Daniel to come to them. They were getting closer, and running flat out. A bullet struck the bullet-proof side window followed by the rapid succession of several more pings against the helicopter’s body, luckily hitting nothing of importance.

  “Take it up!” yelled Daniel.

  Charles had kept the engine rpm’s up, ready for a quick take off. He didn’t wait for them to board, pulling back on the control stick, lifting off.

  Six inches off the ground, John and Daniel dove through the door. The mob rapidly approached with Don in the lead. Shots continued to fly at the chopper. Blake forcefully slid the door shut.

  “Get us out of here!” shouted John.

  “Go, Charles! Go!” yelled Blake. “They’re almost on us.”

  The mob yelled with rage at realizing their quarry was getting away, depriving them of their hunt and their reward.

  John rolled onto his back on the floor of the helicopter, trying to catch his breath. Daniel was sitting up, breathing heavier than normal, but doing better than his friend. Obviously, he was in a much better physical condition.

  It didn’t take long for the Blackhawk to fly out of range of the mob’s weapons. Now they could try to relax.

  Charles signaled for Daniel and John to each put on a headset. He had to know what was going on and it would be almost impossible to talk over the noise of the engine and rotors.

  “Who were you running from?” asked Charles. “And why?”

  “There are some very dangerous and territorial people out here,” said John. “And those people wanted to use us for their entertainment. Chasing us was their idea of fun. I hate to think about what they would have done if they’d caught us. I’m glad you came along when you did. I wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”

  “It was just lucky we were in the area,” said Blake. “We came to investigate a couple of gun shots.”

  “We’re glad you did. Thanks,” replied Daniel. “Did you find any signs of Davis and Damon?”

  “I’m afraid not,” answered Blake.

  Looking over his shoulder, Charles asked, “I guess you didn’t have any luck either?”

  “No,” answered John. “We were on their trail when we ran into those people. It turned out the leader is Damon’s uncle.”

  Charles looked back with surprise.

  “But you didn’t see them?” asked Blake.

  “No. From what we gathered,” said Daniel, “there was no love loss between them and they’d already moved on by the time we got there.”

  “So, they’re still on the loose?”

  “That’s right, unfortunately,” answered Daniel.

  There was a brief silence. They were all thinking about what they should do next. “Since I’m driving, where can I drop you two off?” asked Charles.

  John and Daniel looked at each other. “What do you think, Daniel?” asked John.

  “As long as Davis and Damon are still out there, running free, no one is safe.”

  “Then where do we go?” asked John.

  Charles spoke up. “We’re heading back to Sector 4 to check for fuel. We could take you back with us and you could pick up new horses there.”

  “How about you, are you going to continue the search?” asked John.

  “No,” admitted Charles. “We tried, but it turned out to be a waste of time and fuel. We’re going home.” He paused. “We hope you and Daniel will keep it up though. But, I’ll understand if you don’t. It’s not your responsibility and I know you have your own lives to get back to.”

  “I wouldn’t say it was a waste of your time,” Daniel clarified. “After all, you most likely saved our lives. And we intend to keep looking as long as we can, but we can’t keep it up indefinitely. Like you said, we have families waiting at home for us.”

  ***

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Morgan kicked Damon’s foot, waking him. It was early morning and still dark out. It took Damon a moment for his eyes to adjust and to focus on Morgan standing over him. He winced as he sat up slowly, his back aching from sleeping on the ground, waiting for Morgan to speak.

  “I’ve made a decision. You’re not worth the effort. I’m assuming the reward is money, which is worthless. What we need are supplies. So, you’re not worth anything to us.”

  Davis and Peck were awake and alert now, especially after hearing Morgan’s last comment. They were listening intently since their lives were in his hands. Looking from Morgan back to Damon, they desperately hoped Damon could come up with a reason for Morgan to keep them alive.

  “I’m sure the chief governor will be willing to negotiate,” Damon was quick to point out.

  “That’s another thing I don’t like. I’m not sure I want any dealings with him. We’ve been doing fine on our own without any government contact, and that’s the way I like it.”

  It didn’t take Damon long to come up with something else he thought Morgan would like. “I happen to know where you can find a stockpile of supplies of all kinds: food, clothing, and medical supplies. And I can help you get them.”

  “You’re talking about the stockpile at your old compound, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “According to Jake, hundreds of people are still there. Don’t you suppose they might object to us taking their supplies? Since there aren’t many of us, if they resisted, we wouldn’t stand much of a chance.”

  “They won’t resist. I can assure you of that.”

  Morgan went
silent, and then stepped over to Jake. They spoke quietly for only a few moments. He came back to Damon, having already recognized him as the obvious leader of the group instead of Davis. “Jake admitted it’s possible. He didn’t see any obvious security. If we do this, you’re going to lead the way and make sure we get in. They know who you are and if you can get past them, then I’ll be a believer.”

  “And then you’ll let us go?” asked Damon.

  “If we’re successful, of course.”

  Neither man trusted the other, but it could still work. Each could get what they wanted.

  “When do we leave?”

  “The sooner, the better, while they’re still vulnerable.”

  “Then, how about….” Damon held up his chains, hoping to be released.

  “Not a chance,” said Morgan.

  Morgan gathered a small group together in the park. Damon counted twelve men and women.

  “Is this it?” asked Damon.

  “You said we wouldn’t have any trouble.”

  “I know, but I thought there would be more of you.”

  “Changing your mind now?” asked Morgan.

  “No, not at all,” Damon lied. Outnumbered forty or more to one would have bad consequences if he underestimated the people of Tent City. There was always the chance some still had fight left in them. For now, the lie kept them alive.

  ***

  Damon, Davis, and Peck rode behind Morgan, this time without blindfolds, but with their hands still bound in front so they could hold onto the saddle horn for stability. The closer they came to the compound, the more Damon began to doubt whether an escape was going to be possible. They were running out of time and Davis’ constant whining was distracting him from thinking clearly. Damon tried to reassure him that everything was going to be fine, even though he was having doubts himself. Peck, normally quiet, had even joined in, pleading with Damon to do something. Both had believed Damon would find a way for them to escape before reaching the compound. During two days of travel Damon hadn’t tried anything, but he hadn’t been given a chance either. Morgan and his people had kept them close, always under constant scrutiny.

  They were almost to the Sector 4 compound and Damon was becoming nervous. “Maybe going in like this isn’t such a good idea,” he mentioned casually. He knew it was a gamble to even bring it up, especially since he’d been the one to convince Morgan to bring them.

  Morgan pulled back on the reins and stopped, looking back at Damon. “I hope you’re kidding. The whole point of bringing you here was to help us get the supplies we need. You said there wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe I should have just shot you the first time I saw you.”

  “I was just thinking, maybe you should stay back and let us go in first. That way, just in case there is trouble, you’ll be safe.”

  “That sounds awfully considerate. And even though I question your intention, that’s not a bad idea. So, you are going in first. I insist.”

  Damon smiled with satisfaction. He glanced at Davis and Peck and gave them a quick wink.

  Damon let Morgan know when they were about two miles from the compound. It was beginning to get dark, the sun just dropping below the tree tops. “We should probably stop here and camp for the night, and then go in tomorrow,” suggested Damon.

  Morgan nodded and dismounted. “Okay, we’re going to make camp here,” he announced to the others. He turned to Damon. “Don’t you think checking out the compound would be better under the cover of darkness?”

  Damon had to force himself to keep from smiling outwardly. This was going even better than he’d expected.

  “Okay, but while we’re waiting for it to get dark, maybe we could eat something before we go in,” suggested Damon. All they’d been given since their capture were a few small pieces of jerky.

  “Not you. I’m not letting you out of my sight. He’s going,” said Morgan while pointing at Peck.

  Damon exhaled his disappointment. Peck was shocked, unsure whether to be glad for being given the opportunity to get away, or to be afraid of going into the settlement alone, and being recognized.

  Damon and Davis briefly exchanged glances, both wondering if Peck would desert them to save his own skin. But then, why would he? He’d been treated fairly, allowed to go with them during their escape. He’d been with them through it all, the only one who had.

  “He can’t go in there looking like that,” commented Damon, referring to Peck’s uniform.

  Peck was given something less obvious to wear, hopefully allowing him to slip in without drawing attention to himself. He wasn’t thrilled about going, but if it gave him the chance to get away, he was willing. He was sure someone would be sent to keep an eye on him, which was a potential problem, at least until he entered the community. Then he would be on his way to freedom.

  His loyalty to Davis and Damon had been nothing more than a matter of convenience and potential opportunity. Being in the right place at the right time had already worked for him once, named Master of the Guard after Gant had deserted them and escaped with his family. Peck had been sure they would either regain power there or surface somewhere else to do it all over again, and he had wanted to be a part of it.

  Realization was finally becoming clear though, it was unlikely that any of it would ever happen again. Since their escape, they seldom had a use for him, except to be their grunt and to perform menial tasks. The tables had turned and now he had no further use for them. They were no longer a means to meeting his ambitions, which was becoming less important all the time. Now, survival and protecting his own skin was all that mattered.

  When it was time to go, as expected, Morgan told Jake to accompany Peck to make sure there was no double-cross. Damon was initially offended, but said nothing, acknowledging to himself he would have done the same thing.

  Morgan added a warning, “If you’re not back in two hours, you’ll make me very unhappy and I’ll be forced to take it out on your friends,”

  Peck held back a smile. Friends? It was apparent Morgan thought the threat was adequate for Peck’s return. How wrong he was.

  “We’ll be waiting, Master Peck,” said Davis, forcing a smile.

  The governor hadn’t used Peck’s official title since the day they had escaped. Morgan also seemed surprised to hear it, raising an eyebrow.

  “You know the layout,” remarked Damon. “We need to know if we can get inside safely. Check on whether there’s security at the gate or inside with the supplies and then come back. If it’s clear, we’ll go in and take the supplies Morgan needs.” He gave Peck a weak and forced smile, just as Davis had.

  Peck wasn’t falling for it, but gave a nod and smiled back anyway. “Not a problem.” Now, they needed him, and he got a bit of satisfaction from knowing it. Their lives depended on him for a change.

  Jake stayed by his side all the way to the edge of where campsites began to pop up and activity seemed to be picking up. They stopped when they spotted a gathering of a dozen or so people around a campfire, perhaps one hundred feet ahead.

  “I’ll be waiting right here,” said Jake. “See if you can get any information from those people. Then check the compound as you were told. Got it?” He walked to the cover of a tree, standing in the shadow cast by the fire’s light.

  Peck walked toward the group. One of them, a man, noticed him coming out of the darkness and told the others, all turning to watch him approach. He could see them whispering among each other, making him nervous. Either they had already recognized him or they saw him as just a stranger. By their reaction, neither case seemed to matter. He approached slowly with a wave of his hand, forcing a smile. “Hello.”

  His smile and wave were met by theirs, putting him somewhat at ease. They looked as though they may have been from Tent City, wearing well worn clothes, like the workers wore in the fields. The clothes he’d been given let him fit in perfectly.

  “Hello,” one of the others returned. “Can we help you?”

  “I saw your fire. Ca
n you spare something to eat?”

  “You don’t look familiar,” another one stated. “Where are you from?”

  “Nowhere in particular,” he said, being as evasive as possible.

  “Come and sit,” invited one of the women. “We have plenty.” She grabbed a bowl and filled it with a stew-like mixture. He couldn’t believe how friendly and accepting they were. They made room for him to sit and the woman passed the bowl to him. Real food would be a welcome change from the jerky Morgan had provided. He hadn’t had a proper meal since escaping with Damon and Davis. Even at Uncle Don’s Camp Liberty they hadn’t been allowed to dismount to eat. He brought the bowl to his nose and closed his eyes. Its aroma was phenomenal. His stomach rumbled loud enough to amuse those near him.

  “So, are you just passing through?” asked one of the men.

  Brought back to reality, he opened his eyes.

  “Joe, let the man eat,” said the woman. “There’s time for that later.”

  “It was a simple question, Jenny.” He looked directly at Peck. “What’s your name?”

  “Shhh!” said one of the other men. “Do you hear that?”

  Everyone around the campfire stopped to listen. “The governor’s back,” someone said.

  Now they all could hear the helicopter.

  Peck was immediately struck with fear and confusion. What should he do now? He was sure the chief governor would recognize him. They had met in passing several times before. Perhaps not being in uniform would make a difference. If at all possible, he needed to avoid direct contact with him at all cost. His mind began to wonder what the implications might be with the governor being there. They had expected him to be back in Springfield.

  “You’re lucky,” said Jenny. “You’ll probably get to meet Chief Governor Grayson.”

  Peck forced a smile to show his mock excitement. He proceeded to eat, listening to the others talk about the chief governor, wondering if he’d found Governor Davis and Damon. Curiously, his name was never mentioned. Were they not even looking for him?