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

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Borders: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Aftershock Series Book 3) Page 12

by Michael R. Watson


  ***

  Carla worked her way along the west side of the tree row until she could see the compound. She didn’t meet any resistance. A crowd of people was gathered outside the gates. It appeared a man with a rifle was keeping them from entering. She took off her gun belt and dropped it to the ground and then stuck her pistol into her waistband and pulled her shirt out over it. Carla casually emerged from the woods and joined the group.

  “What’s happening?” Carla asked a nearby woman. She had no idea the woman was near the maximum age Davis had allowed, one of the remaining senior citizens at thirty-nine.

  “Davis and Damon were captured and brought here. The people responsible are being rewarded with supplies. We’ve been told to stay back and out of the way until they’re gone.”

  Carla worked her way through the crowd to the front. She stopped near the guard with the rifle where she could clearly see several men loading two wagons at the freight dock. At least that much was going as planned. She still wondered why they’d been attacked. She didn’t see Morgan. He had to still be inside, but she’d never get past the guard without causing a commotion. She decided to watch and wait. She wasn’t about to go back to the others until she knew more.

  Carla impatiently watched as the men finished loading the two wagons, covering them with tarps and tying them down. She thought the deal was for one wagon. A hint of a smile appeared on her lips with an imperceptible nod of approval. Morgan had been right to come here to turn over Davis and Damon. And it had been pure luck to find the chief governor here at the same time. This would give them enough supplies to last through the upcoming fall and winter months. And when those ran out, they knew where they could come back for more, whenever they wanted. This had been too easy.

  Since the wagons were loaded, Carla expected Morgan to come out at any time, and then they could get out of this place. She’d breathe easier once they were back on their own turf.

  ***

  Ryder scanned the crowd and the surrounding area from the freight dock, wondering what John was up to, slightly concerned. He hadn’t seen him for quite a while. He told the other loaders to stay put as he returned to the lower level to let Morgan know they were done.

  “The wagons are loaded. We’ve cooperated, now let the governor and Daniel go.”

  “Nice try, but you know I won’t do that. I told you the governor’s going with us. Like I said before, we’ll let him go once I’m sure we’re out of danger.”

  “And we should believe you?” asked Ryder sarcastically.

  Morgan let the tone of the comment slide. “Of course. Why would I lie? And, just to be clear, you didn’t cooperate. You weren’t given a choice.” He grabbed Grayson by the arm and forced him to his feet. “It’s time to go gov’na. You, too, Master Gant.” He motioned to Ryder. “You first.”

  As they headed up the steps to the main level and the freight door exit, Morgan’s two men fell in behind. When they exited the building through the doorway onto the dock, Morgan looked at the large crowd gathered outside the fence and at the loaded wagons. He frowned and turned to Ryder.

  “Two wagons?! That’s it?! I told you I wanted more!” Morgan screamed.

  Ryder kept his composure. “That’s all I could find. So, we over-filled them with extra supplies,” he lied in an attempt to appease him.

  Morgan stared at him, weighing his options. He glanced at the crowd that was becoming restless and unruly.

  “You have enough supplies to last for quite a while,” said Ryder. “Why don’t you take these wagons and leave?”

  Morgan took a deep breath, his attitude suddenly changing and becoming more relaxed as a smile re-appeared. “I think that’s what we’ll do. I can always come back for more.”

  A movement caught Morgan’s eyes. A woman was frantically waving her arms in large arcs over her head. As she stepped out away from the crowd he recognized Carla. Morgan moved past Ryder to stand at the edge of the dock. He waved for her to come to him.

  She stepped toward the gate, but was stopped by the guard.

  “Let her in,” Morgan told Ryder without turning to face him.

  Ryder motioned for the guard to let her through. Carla ran through the gate and all the way to Morgan. She pulled him off to the side of the freight dock. “We were attacked.”

  ***

  John and Jeremy entered the huge room.

  “I don’t hear anything,” whispered Jeremy.

  “It does sound a little too quiet, doesn’t it?” commented John softly. “Stay here.”

  John slowly moved from aisle to aisle, working his way slowly toward the front of the room. Strange, there were no sounds or voices. He reached the front. From the lack of sound he was somewhat prepared for what he found, an empty room. They were all gone. They were too late. There was no reason to keep quiet any longer.

  “Jeremy! It’s okay, come on up!” He heard Jeremy’s footsteps as he ran toward him.

  “They didn’t take much,” observed Jeremy. “I wonder if something went wrong.”

  “Let’s go up and take a look around to see what’s going on,” suggested John.

  “Right behind you.”

  They reached the main level to find the freight doors wide open. The sun was up now and its light filled the inner dock area. John eased his way to the edge of the door. There was a crowd gathered outside the fence. He moved back from the doorway when Morgan and a woman from his group walked into view to the edge of the dock. She was whispering to him and seemed excited about something. John took a quick look around the corner of the door. Two wagons had been loaded and covered with tarps. A dozen men were leaving, walking toward the gate, apparently the men who had loaded the wagons. Ryder, Daniel, and Charles remained, standing together, hands tied, guarded by two of Morgan’s men.

  John ducked back around the corner when he thought the woman looked in his direction. “Jeremy,” John whispered, “go back out the way we came in. Hurry!”

  “But …”

  “Go!”

  John felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He set his rifle against the inside wall, turned, and stepped out.

  “And where did you come from?” asked Morgan, without a hint of concern in his voice.

  “Inside the compound. I needed a few supplies.” Evidently, Morgan didn’t remember him from earlier or he just didn’t care.

  Morgan motioned to the woman to come over. “Carla, go down these steps and check the lower level. If you find anyone, bring them up.”

  She pulled her pistol out and headed down.

  Morgan brought John over to join the others. John and Daniel exchanged looks, but remained silent. John could only shrug.

  “I was wondering what happened to you,” commented Ryder.

  “I took a chance,” said John. “As you can see, it didn’t work out.”

  Carla came back out. “No one is down there, but I found this.” She showed Morgan the rifle John had set inside the door.

  Morgan nodded acknowledgement. He stepped up to John and Daniel. “Carla tells me they were attacked. Either of you know anything about that?”

  “How could I? I’ve been right here with you,” said Daniel.

  “And you?” he asked John.

  “Sorry, can’t help you.”

  Morgan’s expression didn’t change. He never seemed to let anything upset him very much, always maintaining a pleasant smile, like he knew something no one else did.

  “You two,” talking to his two men, “will drive the wagons. Take the road south and we’ll catch up. Governor, you’ll come with me. If anyone tries anything,” he looked at the group, “I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in his head. Do you understand?”

  They remained silent.

  “I said ‘Do you understand?’”

  They each reluctantly nodded.

  Morgan’s men took their positions on the wagon’s seats. Flicking the reins, the horses began to pull the wagons toward the gate.

  “What about the people
who attacked us?” asked Carla.

  “Was anyone wounded or killed?”

  “None of our people.”

  He got the inference. “Then it doesn’t matter. As long as Governor Grayson is with us, we’re safe.” Morgan turned to Daniel, Ryder, and John, looking directly at each of them one at a time. “For now, you’re all coming back with us to rejoin the rest of my people.” He forced Grayson and the other three to stay in front of him and Carla as shields. “Get going and don’t be slow about it!”

  The group was forced to keep up a quick pace as they headed for the gate. Morgan kept pressure against Grayson’s back with the pistol’s muzzle while Carla gave encouragement to the others with her pistol. The wagons were already outside the fence, but were forced to stop, the congestion of the crowd blocking the road. The guard looked at the small group walking his way, looking for some indication of what he should do.

  “Tell him to let them through!” instructed Morgan, poking the gun’s barrel harder into the governor’s back.

  Grayson turned to Morgan. He still had the gag in his mouth. Morgan jerked it out.

  “Let the wagon’s pass!” yelled Grayson with a parched and scratchy throat, coughing after the effort. Grayson resisted as Morgan stuffed the gag back in.

  The guard still hesitated, and then began to move the crowd out of the way, clearing the road for the wagons. “Make a path!” he shouted.

  The drivers were able to get the wagons moving again. As Morgan’s small group of hostages passed through the gate, John saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked to see Jeremy running along the tree line. No one else seemed to notice. John hoped Jeremy wasn’t going to do something stupid, but just let the events run their current course. Hopefully, Morgan’s people would be gone soon. Then the residents would be safe and they’d only have to worry about the hostages.

  ***

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Peck didn’t go far. He had escaped and was free, only to realize he was totally on his own. He didn’t like it, but he needed Davis and Damon. He had to go back. No one had recognized him at the settlement except for Jeremy, one of the Guard, and he had let him go. Re-entering the facility shouldn’t be a problem, as long as he didn’t run into Grayson, Blake, John, Gant, Ryder, Morgan, or Jake. Easy. He would need to try to blend in with the residents and find out what had happened to Davis and Damon. The last time he’d seen them, Morgan’s intent had been to turn them over to the chief governor in exchange for supplies. But beyond that, he had no idea whether it had actually happened. If it had, where were they now, would he be able to get to them, and how secure were they being held?

  Peck didn’t know where to begin looking. Perhaps Grayson had already hauled them away in his helicopter. In that case, he was too late and he really was on his own. For now, he’d assume they were still in the area somewhere in or near the compound.

  When he reached the perimeter of the encampment, the scattered camps were still relatively quiet with only a few individuals coming out of their tents, building up their fires, preparing to cook the morning meal. Peck noticed a small group going toward the compound. Cautiously, he moved from tree to tree for a better look. He immediately recognized Grayson and Morgan with Davis and Damon and two of Morgan’s men. He watched as they went through the compound gate and then proceeded through the prison’s main entrance doors. He wondered where Blake was, he and the chief governor were rarely separated.

  Now he knew Davis and Damon were inside the building, but had no idea where exactly they would be kept or how he would get them out. Only moments later he saw John and Gant running toward the compound’s main door. The guard he’d encountered in the lower level, Jeremy, rushed out, running into Gant. While they had a brief exchange, Ryder drove a wagon through the gate and pulled up to the loading dock. Jeremy ran off toward Tent City. John, Gant, and Ryder all entered the building.

  Moments later Ryder and John hurriedly came out, running off in different directions. John stopped long enough to talk with Jeremy who was returning with another man who Peck didn’t recognize. The man ran back to Tent City. John and Jeremy continued to talk a few moments longer and then ran south together.

  Peck continued to watch as the man returned from Tent City a few minutes later with a dozen men, gathering on the freight dock. Ryder was also returning, coming through the gate with a second wagon. He joined the men on the dock. Peck saw Ryder motion for them to stay put. Alone, Ryder rushed inside, moments later to re-appear at the freight doors and wave for the small group of men to follow him inside.

  Peck felt this would be his best chance to get inside and locate Davis and Damon. His biggest concern was running into Grayson or Gant. They were still inside somewhere. He assumed they were in the lower level helping Morgan with his promised supplies. He made a dash through the gate, falling in line with the others. He nudged the man in front of him. “What did they do with Davis and Damon?”

  Without looking back, the man answered, “I heard they were put in solitary confinement, and if you ask me, that’s even too good for them.”

  “That’s for sure,” agreed Peck. “What about their punishment?”

  The man only shrugged.

  Peck was familiar with the prison’s layout. He’d never been in the solitary confinement area of the prison, but he knew where the cells were located. There’d never been a reason to use them. If workers couldn’t follow the rules, they were either eliminated or hauled off for disposal, their choice. Some preferred to avoid the slow and agonizing death of dehydration and starvation in the wasteland. There was a cemetery outside the compound walls that offered proof of all the lives that had come to a tragic end while at this “safe haven.” Davis had placed it close enough to Tent City so the workers saw it as both a constant reminder and an incentive for the workers to cooperate.

  After passing through the freight doors, the group turned left to take the steps down to the lower level, Peck turned right toward the main floor foyer. The early morning sunlight shining through the front windows helped illuminate the area. Fortunately, there was no one there. He hustled to the door he knew led to the solitary confinement cells, a bit surprised to see there was no sign identifying what was on the other side. The door was unlocked. Entering quickly, he closed the door behind him after checking to make sure no one had seen him. The stairwell leading down was dark. Even though he knew the cells were down below, he’d never been past the door, and didn’t know exactly what to expect. He felt along the wall until he found the light switch and flipped it on. A string of dim lights came on following the steps down. Immediately, he heard a pounding sound and someone begin to yell. The words were unclear, but he heard panic in the voice. The whining sounded familiar. It was Davis. There was no doubt.

  Peck hurried down the steps. He grinned to himself, sure that neither Davis nor Damon expected to see him again. They had to know he’d taken off. At the bottom of the steps he paused to look at the single row of cells crammed into the small claustrophobic, cool, and silent space. It smelled musty, probably not used for some time. “Governor Davis?”

  A hand jerked out from an open slot in one of the metal doors. “Here! Get me out!”

  Peck came close, seeing an eye pressed against the opening, peering out at him. There was no lock, only a large heavy-duty metal pin and latch kept the cell door from swinging open. He reached for the latch, and then stopped himself. “Why should I help you? What’s in it for me?”

  “I think you already know why,” came a voice from the adjacent cell. “You need us as much as we need you. Isn’t that why you came back?”

  Damon was right. There was no reason to argue the point. He pulled the pin on Davis’ cell door latch and took a step over and did the same to Damon’s. “You can come out now.”

  Davis wasted no time in thrusting his door open with it slamming loudly into the adjacent cell door. It bounced back as he stepped out, almost knocking him back inside. Damon pushed his cell door open in one
smooth slow movement and stepped out.

  “Do you have any water with you?” asked Davis impatiently.

  “Sorry, no,” answered Peck.

  “I thought you left us,” stated Damon, hinting for an explanation.

  Peck didn’t offer one.

  “I need water,” insisted Davis.

  Damon and Peck ignored him.

  “Maybe we should concentrate on getting out of here,” suggested Damon calmly. “Do you have a plan?” he asked Peck.

  “No. This was pretty much a spur of the moment decision.”

  “Well, thanks anyway,” offered Damon.

  Peck hadn’t expected that. He’d never heard Damon say thank you to anyone, ever. Caught off guard, he was speechless.

  “Get us out of here,” pressed Davis.

  “Follow me,” said Peck.

  He led them up the staircase to the exit door, flipping off the stairway lights as they reached the top landing.”

  “Why’d you do that?” asked Davis.

  There was plenty of light coming from the foyer through the narrow vertical window in the door.

  “I don’t want anyone walking by to see the light on and come to investigate.”

  “Smart,” commented Damon.

  Peck wondered what had gotten into Damon. Perhaps the short amount of time he’d spent in solitary confinement had mellowed him out. He immediately dismissed the idea. It had to be something else.

  “Let me go out first and see if anyone is around. I was out in the crowd earlier and no one recognized me. So, I think I’m safe. It won’t be as easy to get you two out of here though. Everyone knows your faces.” He slowly cracked the door until it was open wide enough to stick his head out. He heard the sound of footsteps crossing the tiled foyer and ducked back inside, quietly closing and locking the door, holding his finger to his lips. He peeked out the window to see a man walk by with a rifle slung over his shoulder, probably on patrol. There was a familiarity to him. The guard went on by the door. Apparently he hadn’t seen or heard them. Peck continued to follow his movement until the guard disappeared from sight.

 

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