“I’ll be damned,” the man said as he slowly laid his rifle on the ground. He lifted his hands above his head again as he approached. “Am I glad to meet you, sir.”
Mace thought the title seemed completely out of place, especially considering his appearance. He straightened his gun arm. “That’s far enough,” he said icily as he studied the man carefully.
Raising his hands higher, the stranger said, “I told you, we’re not looking for trouble. Hell, I’d like to shake your hand. You saved a lot of people.”
Mace didn’t flinch. Lisa kept her rifle aimed at the man’s chest. The dirt bikes appeared from different directions. Within a minute they completely surrounded the party on horses. Crockett jumped off his bike and aimed an arrow at one of the men on horseback. The other boys all carried bows and quivers strapped to their backs.
“We’re taking the horses,” Crockett yelled loudly to one of the men. “Get off and put your guns on the ground.”
At the sight of the young boys with Mohawks, the girl piped up in anger, “What is this, some type of mutant-munchkin bullshit?”
Lisa whispered to Mace. “Yep, that’s her.”
The man who approached Mace turned and yelled, “Kelly! Shut up! We’re not looking for any trouble.”
“Hey, I didn’t start it. Look at them! I don’t even think they have hair on their balls, yet!”
Mace couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath. “Crockett!” he yelled. “We’ve got this under control.”
“We need their horses!” Crockett yelled back.
The man turned back towards Mace with a look of desperation. “Please. We come in peace. We don’t want any trouble.”
Lisa nudged Mace and nodded towards one of the men on horseback. His hand reached slowly for a rifle.
“That’s far enough,” Mace yelled, moving his handgun to zero in on the target. “Crockett, lower your goddamn bow and keep your boys in check. We’re not going to shoot anyone unless they pull a weapon.” His attention turned to the man on horseback, he said, “Throw down your gun and dismount the horse. That goes same for the rest of you. We’re going to take you back to our compound and get this all sorted out.”
Kelly now stared hard at Lisa. “I know you,” she said in shock. “You were there. In Frisco.”
“I remember you, too,” Lisa said dryly. “Especially the cute mouth.” The girl’s parents placed her briefly in Lisa’s hospital daycare center. They all left on one of the caravans shortly after.
“Why do you talk so funny, anyway?” Crockett yelled at the girl.
“I don’t talk funny,” answered Kelly, defensively.
“I never heard nobody talk like you before.”
“I’m from New Jersey. This is just how we talk.”
“You sound like an idiot.”
“Well, you look like a freak!”
“Enough already,” Mace said loudly. “Take your boys and head back to camp,” he ordered Crockett. “We’ll be there shortly.”
Crockett stared at the girl for a second before he spit on the ground. “Stupid bitch,” he muttered under his breath.
Back at the Alamo, half the camp watched as Mace pulled his Harley through the entrance. The horses followed a few seconds later with Lisa bringing up the rear. Word spread quickly through the encampment as they approached. Months passed since their last visitor. Most people ended up dead by the side of the road.
“Holy shit,” said Kelly, getting off her horse. “It’s a whole tribe of munchkins. What the hell is up with the Mohawks?”
“It gives us a mental advantage,” Mace answered in spite of himself. It wasn’t worthy of a response.
“Well, you look mental, I’ll give you that.”
Mace took a few steps towards her, his irritation growing quickly, and fear showed on her face. “I don’t know who you think you are,” he growled, “but I suggest you shut your lip, and fast.”
Lisa grabbed his belt from behind to slow him down. “Easy, big guy. It’s too early to start snapping necks.” Mace gave Kelly a long, hard look. As he analyzed the girl, he recognized a past of privilege and money. Amazed that she’d lasted this long, he studied her more closely. She was the only one with a New Jersey accent, which meant the party most likely took her in.
Even though she was still just a kid, he could only take so much backtalk. He turned his attention to the man who initially approached them. “Why don’t we go talk somewhere. If I were you, I’d make sure Jersey, here, keeps her mouth shut. She could find herself short a tongue.”
The man nodded nervously. “What are you going to do with us?”
Mace pointed towards the others and said, “They stay in the prison until everything checks out. You come with me.”
Chelsea sat by the well under an oak tree as Crockett brought the prisoners through. At only eight years old, she was strong, confident, and as skilled as many of the boys. She surpassed most of them with her archery skills. She and Maya practically lived on the course. They just gotten through tending the garden.
Sitting Indian-style next to her, Maya gently petted Buster as he panted in the heat. His head was somewhat lopsided from the bullet damage, but it barely slowed him down. It was the lack of full vision that kept him close to camp. He had a habit of walking into walls when tired.
“What’s going on?” Maya asked as the five prisoners passed within twenty feet, surrounded by Mohawk warriors.
“I don’t know,” Chelsea answered quietly as she focused on the girl. “I think I know her!” she said in surprise as she concentrated on her face.
“What?”
“She looks familiar. I know I’ve seen her.”
“Hi Maya,” Travis said, interrupting their conversation. Approaching from behind, he made it a point to seek her out after kitchen duty. He smelled like onions.
Breaking his glasses when the toxin was first released, Travis couldn't see clearly more than ten feet in front of him. It made him unfit for combat.
“But from where?” Maya asked Chelsea, ignoring Travis. She thought he was a dork. She had her eye on Miles, although half the boys in camp secretly had a crush on her.
Chelsea’s eyes grew wide as she remembered where she'd met the girl. “She’s from San Francisco, like me! She was at the hospital!"
“Really?” Maya said. “That’s crazy. What’s she doing here?”
“I have no idea. She’s a pain in the ass, though. Trust me.”
Inside the chapel, Jim and Yvette were busy arguing over their nuptials. Mace walked in unnoticed with the stranger. Jim and Yvette were faced away and didn’t see them enter.
“All I’m saying is you could at least put a little more thought into this, Jim. ‘I promise to love you and stuff.’ Really? Is that the best you could come up with?”
“Well, you called me a dork in yours!”
“And you have to ask why?”
The stranger laughed, which instantly stopped them. They swung around, guns drawn.
“Whoa,” said Mace as he raised his hands. “We were just looking for a quiet place to talk. Didn’t know we were barging in on anything.”
“Damn, you scared us!” said Yvette. “I didn’t recognize the laugh.”
“Sorry,” the man said. “I couldn’t help myself. My apologies.”
“That’s okay,” Yvette said as she shot a harsh look at Jim. “We’re done in here. You aren’t interrupting anything too important, obviously.”
Jim rolled his eyes and Yvette pinched his arm. “Ow!”
“Cmon, let’s leave them alone. We can work on this someplace else.” She dragged him out by his arm. Jim smiled sheepishly at Mace as he left.
“That looks like a match made in heaven,” the man said cautiously.
“They’re actually good together. It’s a rather unique relationship. Why don’t you sit down.” Mace’s face remained stone cold.
The man nodded nervously and took a seat. “We don’t care much for strangers,” Mace said
straight-off. “And we aren’t looking for any to join us. We’ll get you fed and on your way soon if you don’t give us any trouble.”
“We don’t have anywhere to go,” the man said quietly. As unsure as he was of Mace and the crazy kids, the road still posed a greater threat.
“Not my problem. Tell me about the plaguers. What’s been going on out there?”
Lifting his focus to make eye contact, the man’s eye twitched from nerves. Mace looked like a stone-cold killer. He was a truly frightening sight. “It started once the zombies started dropping,” the man said anxiously. “We noticed that anyone that hadn’t been inoculated from the original virus got sick. Soon after, they started going crazy: Violent crazy. Everywhere we’ve traveled we’ve run into the same thing. It started in Arizona and it’s been the same everywhere we’ve gone.”
“How do you know the antidote keeps it from happening?”
“Because we’re still standing. It’s widespread. I’m surprised you haven’t run into anything yet.”
The antidote, developed by a doctor in Cuba alarmed by the powerful effects of the toxin, prevented the zombie virus from spreading. It did, however, come with complications. Created for the original toxin, the antidote lacked a response to the alien amino acids later introduced to the concoction. Those attacked after receiving the antidote became unstable, developing an intense appetite for violence and sexual proclivity. Both Mace and Lisa struggled with the affliction.
“We’ve all received the antidote," Mace replied. "Any threat gets squashed before it even gets close. I’ve run into some crazy shit out there. I thought it was just what this life does to people.”
“Maybe, maybe not. There’s not a whole lot of rational thought once it takes hold, but if you saw it I wouldn’t think you’d mistake it for anything else.”
Mace no longer looked at the man as an enemy. He decided to introduce himself. “I’m Mace. I’m security around here. I’ll introduce you around. If you give me your word your people are safe, I’ll let you all go. There are some of ours you should meet, though. The kid that runs this place is only eleven, but he’s competent.”
“Did you say eleven?” the man asked, completely floored.
“Yeah, he’s some kind of prodigy or something. I got bit a few years back. I don’t know if you’ve come across that complication, but if you have you know it’s not an easy road.”
Tingles ran up the man’s spine. He nodded in understanding. “My name’s Roger. I’ve seen it. It’s not a pretty sight, and all of a sudden I am completely terrified of you.” Roger became silent for a moment. “How are you dealing with it?”
“I’m not going to gut you like a fish, if that’s what you’re asking.” Mace smiled and it looked completely sinister.
Roger stammered slightly. “How, how many others are, uh, like you?”
“One other. She’s discovered the magical bliss of marijuana, though. It keeps her calmer.” Mace smiled menacingly. “She’d still gut you like a fish.”
Roger became fidgety enough for Mace to probe. “What’s the story? Somebody close to you?”
Roger took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “My wife. She committed suicide six months after she was attacked. She became unstable.” The memory still haunted his dreams.
“Yet you want to shake my hand?” Mace leaned in closer and deeply studied Roger's face. “How could that be?"
“The antidote saved our lives on more than one occasion. Plus, it gave me six months with my wife I wouldn’t have had otherwise.” Roger felt unnerved by the whole situation. He'd failed his wife. He didn't need to drag it all up again.
Reflecting on Roger's words for a few minutes, Mace leaned back and tried to understand the man. Too comfortable with anger and violence, he seldom looked for the good in anything anymore. “What did you do before everything went to shit?”
Roger looked uncomfortable before he said quietly, “I was a minister.”
Mace immediately felt a pit in his stomach and felt like leaving. He remained seated and closed his eyes for a second to quell the uneasy feeling. “I was a spiritual man, once,” Mace said, feeling ice cold inside. “At least I thought I was. Now, I don’t know what the hell I believe in.”
“Once you accept spirituality you can’t just reject it,” Roger replied, instantly regretting his response by Mace’s expression. He spoke quickly, out of nerves. “I mean, if you discovered something greater than yourself once, you will forever question and try to come to terms with it.”
The words swam around in Mace’s head. It actually described him perfectly. As much as he would like to deny the existence of God, he spent more time asking questions than outright rejecting the concept. He’d experienced the light once, and as much as he’d like to, he just couldn’t forget it.
Thinking about the atmosphere around the compound, he knew how much they needed some type of moral compass. The kids were close to savages. They’d been forced to grow up that way. While he tried to live by a certain code, he no longer resembled anything close to a role model. “What are your feelings on hell?” Mace asked as the darkness crept back in. If Roger turned out to be a hell-fire preacher, he might just snuff him out on the spot.
Roger could tell it was a touchy subject. “Just because I have faith in a higher power doesn’t mean I claim to have all the answers. Besides, I would never be arrogant enough to judge anyone. I don’t know what they’ve been through or what’s in their heart.”
Eyeballing him intently, Mace said, “That sounds like a pretty safe answer to me.”
For the first time, Roger spoke with some irritation. “I don’t know if I personally believe in hell, at least a physical one. It is something I won’t know until I die. I just believe that anyone that lives without God is already in hell. It is a spiritual emptiness.”
“What about evil?” Mace asked as he began to enjoy the conversation.
“I told you, I don’t have all the answers, but if everything comes from God then everything returns to God, in one way or the other.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to rewrite the Bible.” Mace’s eyes were cold, yet gleamed with playfulness. He used to love these types of conversations with Father McCann.
“I see the Bible as a guide, not a rulebook. The books in the Bible were chosen at a certain time, for certain purposes. In order to fully understand the Good Book, you would need to view it as a historical document. At the time of its writing, what was the culture of the people who wrote it? What message were they trying to convey? Who were they writing it for?”
Mace looked at him closely. Here was a man who might be able to bring back some of his humanity. A spiritual man with an open mind could lead to some great discussions and a possible change of heart. For an instant he heard Father McCann’s voice. “Follow your heart, Mace.” It hardened a long time ago. He wasn’t sure if it could ever soften.
“Trust those that seek the truth and doubt those who claim they found it,” Mace said slowly and reflectively, repeating the spiritual advice of Father McCann, given a long time ago. He felt comfortable as he said the words. A sense of momentary peace passed through him. “I’d like you to stay,” Mace suddenly said directly. Maybe, just maybe, he could become fully human again.
Surprised by the sudden change of heart, Roger couldn’t tell if it was so much a request as an order. “I’d love to," Roger replied, afraid at this point to disagree. "I can’t speak for all the others, but I'm pretty sure Kelly and Tom will want to.” He wasn’t so sure. At the mention of Kelly, Mace needed some questions answered. “How did she end up with you? You’re not related.”
“Her parents brought the antidote. They died in Arizona and we took her in. We couldn’t just leave her to fend for herself. She's been through hell.”
“Well, you must have a lot of patience,” Mace said sarcastically.
“She’s not that bad once you get to know her. She’s just…how should I put it?”
“A fucking pain in th
e ass?”
Roger couldn’t help but snicker. “Yeah, somewhat. She is just very sarcastic. It’s a protective mechanism. She tries to keep herself from getting hurt. Like I said, she'd been through a lot.”
“Well, I think you should talk to her if she’s going to be around here for any period of time. The kids around here are tough. They’ll knock her on her ass if she pops off too much.”
“Duly noted. Anything else we should know?”
“We’ll just need to keep an eye on you for a while until there is some trust. I’ll let you stay free of the prison, but don’t do anything stupid. The price will be steep.”
The look in Mace’s eyes told Roger all he needed to know. “Don’t worry, we won’t.”
“Don’t take a step out of this compound, either. There are mines and traps all over the place.”
“I was impressed by your moat,” Roger commented. “I’m surprised it’s not filled with oil.”
Mace thought he caught a hint of sarcasm. “I made sure this place is safe, or as safe as can be. We used heavy equipment to dig that trench. No need to keep it filled with oil. If needed, that moat becomes impassable.”
“Don’t you ever get worried about one of the kids getting hurt?”
“The kids sneak out all the time. They don’t know I’m aware of it. It’s good for them, though. It teaches them the terrain and how to steer clear of the mines.”
“How do they sneak out?” Roger grew more interested. Maybe Mace would spill an escape route.
“There’s a hole in the wall. I put it there myself, then covered it with a sheet of plywood. Led them straight to it one day without them knowing, then I left. Made them think it was their discovery.” Mace paused then smiled icily. “I could take you right to it, if you’d like. You wouldn’t make it more than twenty feet without getting blown apart.”
Confused, Roger asked, “Well if that’s the case, why the hell would you leave it for the kids to find?”
“I knew they’d be resourceful enough to discover a path around the mines. It was Woody’s idea. If we ever get overrun, there’s a well-hidden exit.”
Legend of Mace Page 2