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

by Michael R. Watson

  He was asked a few more questions while he ate, but kept the answers brief. As he looked around the circle, he didn’t see one familiar face. And obviously, no one recognized him. It wasn’t until then that he wondered if he could live there with no one knowing his past or who he really was. Then, it occurred to him, if some of the old Guard were still there, they would know him immediately, making it impossible for him to stay.

  A shot was fired. Everyone jumped to their feet. “That came from where the governor was landing,” someone called out.

  The group jumped up and began to run toward it, all except for Peck.

  ***

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Midday of the second day of Ryder’s journey to Sector 4, he was close enough to see the guard towers of the prison in the distance. He was surprised to see a string of small camps scattered along both sides of the road. He recognized some of the former Guard and their families, sitting in the same places as when he had left for Paradise with Levi. In a week’s time, he thought they would have moved on. That’s what they had wanted. He wondered what had happened. He passed a newly erected hand-painted sign, “NEW EDEN.” It showed a commitment of the people for a fresh start. He nodded his approval.

  There was very little activity around the campsites. A few watched as he rode by, but most ignored him, lying in the shade of the tree rows, seemingly too dejected to move. Ryder guessed they hadn’t known where to go, so had decided to stay, remaining in safe and familiar territory. Unfortunately, they must have thought they no longer served a purpose. He would sympathize with them, except for the fact that they should be happy. Davis and Damon were gone and they could have what they wanted, a chance for a new life. In hindsight, maybe it would have been better if they’d ousted Davis and Damon from the compound before things got as bad as they had rather than deciding to revolt and leave. Now they were caught in limbo. He hoped they would come around.

  Almost to the gate of the prison, he could see it was wide open with a steady stream of people coming and going freely.

  Ryder stopped a young couple who were carrying a bulging canvas bag and heading toward the compound gate. “Where are you going?”

  At first, they were puzzled by his question. “We’re moving inside,” they said, as though he should have known.

  “I thought everyone wanted to get away from this place?”

  “It’s better than what we had in Tent City. We’ll have a solid roof over our heads, concrete walls instead of canvas, running water, and real bathrooms.”

  Ryder understood. He had lived inside the walls while a member of the Guard, until he had become fed up with how Davis was running Sector 4 and had left. Since the compound had been left sitting empty, it would have been a waste not to utilize it. “How many have moved in?”

  “Not many. Being inside a cell, even with the door open, makes most of them very uncomfortable. There have been too many stories about the detestable things that went on inside these walls.”

  “But you don’t mind?”

  “We decided to give it a try. We can always move back out.”

  “Do you have access to the lower level supplies?”

  Again, they looked at him strangely. “Of course,” the man replied, as though a ridiculous question. “They make sure we get what we need.”

  “What do you mean by ‘they’?”

  “The Council, of course.”

  The man looked hard at Ryder. “Are you from here? You look familiar.”

  “I’ve actually spent a fair amount of time here.” He excused himself and rode toward Tent City. The gate was wide open and the inside was bustling with activity. Just as the couple had said, it looked as though most of its residents were still there. It appeared they had been content to stay close to their long-time neighbors and friends even though Davis and Damon were out of the picture and the Guard was no longer a threat.

  As he rode through, he noticed the faces as he passed by. They were happy. No down-turned heads or slumped shoulders. The attitude inside Tent City had taken on a complete transformation for the better. Some took the time to make eye contact and greet him. He also noticed the tents weren’t as crowded as they had been before. He guessed some had re-located outside the enclosure. Just as some wouldn’t move inside the prison walls, others were probably just as opposed to remaining inside the vehicle barricade that bordered Tent City, where they’d been forced to live for the last few years.

  He stopped to talk to a woman who was sweeping the dirt surface in front of her tent. “Can you tell me where I can find the Council?”

  Her initial smile fell away. “Who are you?”

  “A friend.”

  She looked at him suspiciously. “They spend the day in the old governor’s compound. Everyone knows that. Then in the evening they return here to Tent City.”

  Ryder thought it odd, but not beyond reason.

  “You know, you look familiar,” she commented.

  “That’s what I hear.”

  He thanked her and rode back to the compound gate, dismounted, tied his horse to the fence, and joined the people going in. Inside the front doors, a line had formed to the left leading to the lower level. To his right were the stairs that led to the second floor where the administrative offices were located, and where he would most likely find the Council. As he headed for the stairs, he was immediately intercepted by two men who blocked his way. He guessed by the way they were dressed that they were from Tent City.

  “May we help you?” one asked.

  Ryder hoped they weren’t going to take their apparent job too serious, for their sake. He didn’t want to hurt either man. That wasn’t what he was there for. He just wanted information.

  “I’d like to talk to the Council.”

  “And do you have an appointment?” the one asked, trying to look intimidating.

  “No. I wasn’t aware I needed one.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Ryder.”

  “Ryder?” asked the other man. “One of the old Guard?”

  Of course, he’d be remembered for that. “Yes, and I’m also one of the men who helped liberate you from Davis.”

  “What do you want with the Council?”

  “Oh, forget it. I don’t have time for this,” said Ryder, turning to walk away. “I didn’t really need to talk to them anyway.”

  “Hold on,” the first man said, grabbing him by the arm. “The Council may want to talk to you. Stay right here.” He told the other man to inform the council members that Ryder was there.

  Ryder jerked his arm free. He could have handled the man easily and left, but he still wanted answers, and didn’t want to harm anyone. He noticed neither man had a weapon. He wasn’t sure how much protection they could provide without any.

  He was also curious to see who was on the Council. So, he waited, hoping to find answers. Within a few minutes the guard returned, followed by three men, still in their field clothes. Evidently, the Council still worked beside the others. They were smiling ear to ear, apparently happy to see him. Each reached out and warmly shook his hand.

  “Ryder, you came back,” one of them exclaimed. “We’re so glad you did. Welcome to New Eden.”

  “Thanks. And I like the name.” Ryder thought he’d met one of them before, a long-time leader of one of the field crews. “Roy, isn’t it?”

  Roy Wilson was thrilled Ryder remembered him, beaming. “Yes, it is.” He noticed the two guards were still standing by, confused and not sure what they should be doing. “It’s okay, boys. Ryder is a friend.” They hesitantly stepped back, puzzled.

  “Have you come back to help us?” asked Roy.

  He knew he was about to disappoint them. “I’m afraid not.” Their smiles faded. “I’m here to pick up the trail of Davis and Damon.”

  “I’m sure they’re miles from here by now,” commented Roy.

  “They didn’t come back for supplies, did they?”

  “No. If they had, we would have turned them
over to Chief Governor Grayson.”

  “He’s been back?” asked Ryder.

  “Three days ago. He helped get us organized and back on our feet. Setting up the Council was his idea.” The other council members nodded in agreement. “We weren’t sure what to do until he stepped in.”

  “I didn’t see his helicopter. Is he still here?”

  “No, he and his friend, Blake, left two days ago in the helicopter to search for Davis and Damon themselves.”

  “He should have known better. It’s too big an area to search by air. Daniel and John have a better chance of finding Davis and Damon by following their trail on the ground.”

  “They thought they had to try. They even brought extra fuel with them,” explained Roy.

  “I hope it’s enough to get them back home. I’m sure the chief governor has better things to do than pursue a personal vendetta out there.”

  “And now you’re going to join the search too?” asked Roy shaking his head. “I don’t see the point. Davis and Damon are gone.”

  “But what would you do if they came back?” asked Ryder.

  “There are more of us than there are of them,” said the first guard.

  Ryder hoped they didn’t all think that way. It was about more than numbers. They were all sheep once before and he knew it could happen again if Davis and Damon came back. He had no doubt. That was why he was going out to join the search. And as long as they were free, Paradise and Haven were at risk as well, and any other unprepared community they encountered.

  “If someone can show me which way they went, I can be on my way.”

  ***

  Ryder was fortunate. Roy knew the location where Grayson’s helicopter had set down, the spot where Davis, Damon, Peck, and an unknown number of their loyal Guard had escaped on foot. He gladly showed Ryder to the place and let him know they weren’t on foot any more; they’d stolen horses from one of the roadside encampments. That was why Roy believed it was reasonable to think they were miles away by this time.

  The only way Ryder would know for sure was to follow their trail. If they had chosen to stay in the vicinity, so much the better. He assumed the further they ventured, the less familiar they would be with their surroundings and the slower they would have to travel, having to stay alert to avoid danger. That would be to his advantage. He knew this region of the wasteland better than most and which places to avoid.

  Ryder wanted to get underway immediately, even though there were only a few hours of sunlight left. He was already a week behind and didn’t have the time to waste, not with so many unanswered questions.

  “Won’t you please wait until morning?” urged Roy. “You won’t be able to follow their trail after it gets dark. I’ll bet you haven’t had a descent night’s sleep in quite a while either.”

  Ryder was quiet for a moment. Roy was right. Perhaps a good meal and a good night’s sleep would do him good. He could start in the morning refreshed. “I don’t suppose it’ll hurt to wait ‘til morning. I’ll go ahead and make camp here.”

  Pleased, a huge smile spread across Roy’s face. “I’m so glad. I’ll see to it that you get a nice meal. Wouldn’t you rather stay in the compound though?”

  “No. Right here will be just fine. And don’t worry about food. I brought some with me.”

  “I’m talking about real food. Not jerky or some dried-out biscuit. I’ll be right back. I promise.” He turned and walked briskly away, happily humming as he went.

  Ryder collected dried twigs and tree limbs and started a fire. He laid out his bedroll and sat with his back to a tree to relax. It was quiet with a light cool breeze and no other people around. It was so peaceful. He took a deep breath and yawned, resting his head back against the tree, listening to the crackle of the fire. He was glad Roy had convinced him to stay the night. His eyelids became heavy. He didn’t fight it as he fell asleep. A twig snapped nearby and his eyelids snapped open. He jumped to his feet, reaching for his pistol. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Roy enter the light of the fire.

  Roy could see he’d caught him off guard. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He held up a small pot. “I told you I’d be right back with food.” In his other hand he carried a jar of water.

  Ryder thanked Roy, taking the pot and jar from him and sitting back by the fire. He was eager to eat, not realizing how hungry he actually was until Roy’s return.

  “The other council members wanted to come with me, but I told them you were too tired and didn’t want to be bothered tonight. I wanted to respect your privacy.”

  To Ryder’s surprise, Roy took a seat across the fire from him. He’d been hoping to eat alone with some peace and quiet. He didn’t want to be rude, since Roy had led him to this location and had provided him with a meal. However, he wasn’t in the mood to socialize. Removing the lid from the pot he was hit by an aroma that reminded him of something his mother would have made. Her cooking would be hard to match.

  “Smells good, doesn’t it?” asked Roy. “My wife made it. It’s a stew. Has a little bit of everything in it. All raised right here.” Then realizing he’d forgotten something, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a spoon. “This may make it a little easier.”

  Ryder just nodded and smiled. If he avoided making conversation, maybe Roy would get the message and move on. He began to eat. It tasted as good as it smelled. Now he knew staying the night had been the right choice.

  “You know, you don’t have to go after them,” said Roy, trying to make him see reason. “It’s not your responsibility and they’re probably long gone by now.”

  Ryder didn’t bother to look up at him. He was getting tired of hearing the same line over and over. “I know.”

  “You can stay here,” offered Roy, perking up with excitement. “We could use a real leader like you to help us create a real community.”

  “It seems you have things well under control.”

  “For now, I guess, but what about if problems come up?”

  “Such as?”

  “We’re worried a group will come, attack us, and take our supplies.”

  “I can promise you word will get out and yes, others will come.”

  “You could help us prepare,” persuaded Roy.

  “Well, first thing I’d do is limit access to the supplies in the lower level.”

  “But those supplies belong to all of us. We share equally.”

  “Greed always gets in the way. Someone always wants more.” He looked directly into Roy’s eyes. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. Even if I don’t find Davis or Damon, I have responsibilities back where I live.”

  Ryder could tell Roy was disappointed. After a few moments of silence, Roy stood. “I understand. Just leave the pot by the fire. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” He turned to leave, and then turned back with a forced smile. “I hope you have a successful and safe trip.” Then he walked away, this time with less spring in his steps than when he’d arrived.

  Ryder felt sorry for these people. If Roy was any indication, they were too nice to survive an attack by a horde of ruthless scavengers. It all came down to being Davis’ fault. If he’d handled his position as governor properly, treated the people fairly, and hadn’t used the Guard as his private army of enforcers, a real community could have been established years earlier. It could still happen, but now, without security, he was afraid it was doomed to fail.

  He was sure Chief Governor Grayson had good intentions in the beginning when he placed Davis in the governor’s position, but his oversight had been lacking, most likely overwhelmed by trying to oversee four sectors at the same time. The people had come to Sector 4 at Grayson’s invitation, so he was the one who was ultimately responsible and needed to make things right.

  Ryder thought the Council was already taking a step in the right direction by having all people go through a checkpoint before entering the lower level to make sure everyone in the community was treated fairly. But, someday, someone bigger, stronger, and ruthless
, would come and a checkpoint wouldn’t matter. Security needed to become a priority and that was an area where the old Guard could find a new purpose.

  Ryder ate his fill from the pot with only a small portion remaining. He would re-heat the rest for breakfast. He sat, staring into the flames and glowing coals of the fire. His thoughts drifted back to Darby. They spent many nights talking by a campfire just like this. He smiled as he remembered some of his friend’s antics. He laid back on his bedroll, staring into the clear starry sky, one of the few things in this world that had remained familiar and comforting. The leaves above fluttered in a light breeze. Taking in a deep breath, tired from his journey, and now with a full belly, he yawned, stretched, and in a matter of seconds was fast asleep again, this time for the night.

  ***

  CHAPTER NINE

  “We should reach New Eden before it gets dark,” Charles informed his passengers.

  “New Eden?” asked John.

  “Yeah. That’s what they’re calling it now,” replied Blake. “There have been a few changes while you were away.”

  Their flight was a fairly quiet one. John and Daniel were focused on searching the countryside below from their new aerial vantage point hoping to see a glimpse of Davis, Damon, and Peck riding through the trees and brush below. They spotted several small camps scattered across the landscape, receiving the same welcome as Charles and Blake had during their search. Fortunately, none of the shots did any damage, to them or the helicopter. As John looked over the landscape, he couldn’t help thinking how terrible it would be to be stranded in this place. And just a little further south and west it was even worse. That was undoubtedly why Davis had ordered those forty and over to be hauled to that part of the wasteland to die.

  The sun was now beginning to set, the sky along the eastern horizon growing darker.

  “There it is,” Daniel called out. He had moved up, kneeling between Charles and Blake, looking out the windshield. “You can see the red light flashing at the top of the radio tower.”