Dark Titan Journey Book 1

by Thomas A. Watson

  “Who’s Linus?” Amanda asked.

  Nathan shook his head. “A cartoon I used to watch,” he told her. “I’m going to the roof. Want to come?” he asked.

  “I will when the biscuits are done,” she said. He smiled, grabbed his binoculars and headed to the roof.

  He walked around the roof, scanning the area and noticing the deer that had been in the field had left as soon as the daylight started coming up on the horizon. Moving to the north side, he noticed the shanty town was bigger than yesterday. Of course he was only guessing, but he was putting the number at or close to a thousand. Continuing to scan the Interstate, he noticed a large group coming from the east about a mile from the exit.

  Even from two miles away, he could see they were holding their pants up and the flash of jewelry around their necks. Lowering the binoculars, he wondered if it was the same gang as yesterday. And why were they following the road? If they just walked across the field and through the patch of trees they could save a mile.

  It’s probably not them, Nathan thought as he raised the binoculars back up to watch them. He noticed other people were moving out of the group’s way and some were running. Still not able to get a count, he could see some holding their arms like they were carrying weapons. He lowered the binoculars and ran over to the ladder. “Amanda, can you hear me?” he called down.

  A few seconds later she was looking up at him. “Yeah,” she said.

  “Get your pack on and put Ares’ pack on then stand by that door,” he said, pointing to the south door.

  “They’re here?” she exclaimed with fright on her face.

  “I don’t know. The group I’m watching is over a mile away on the Interstate, but just in case get ready,” he told her.

  “Okay,” she said and disappeared.

  He ran back over to the north corner and watched the group; they were about a half a mile from the exit. Looking at the shanty town, he saw people moving west from it. Letting the binoculars hang, he shouldered his rifle, aiming down the road to the north. With the exception of a few phone poles, he had a clear field of fire. He saw a caution sign he was putting at two hundred yard in his scope. Turning up the power, he relaxed and sighted in on the center of the sign. Flipping the selector to single, he squeezed the trigger and saw a hole pop about an inch from where he was aiming.

  “Just a tad over two hundred,” he said, kneeling down and raising up the binoculars. The group was now on the exit ramp and heading down to the road in front of the store. “Well, there’s still a chance,” he said, watching them closely.

  Now he could tell most were carrying rifles and counted thirty-three of them. He wanted to laugh as he watched them try to carry a rifle and hold up their pants at the same time. Continuing down the ramp, they turned toward the store. He trotted over to the ladder, fixing to call Amanda, only to see her standing there looking up at him.

  “Good, you got your pack on. If you hear shooting getting close and Ares starts growling, run out the door to the trees and wait five minutes. If I’m not there by then, run,” he told her.

  “Just come on,” she begged.

  “It’s okay for now. Do what I said.” He trotted back to his corner. Kneeling down, he brought up his rifle and watched the group coming at him through the scope. Lowering the rifle, he looked through the binoculars. He put the group around eight hundred yards out. Zooming in with the focus, he saw three men leading the pack. On the right he saw a man wearing a white sweatshirt with a bloody fist. “Quiet man, you came back,” Nathan said out loud.

  Feeling his heart start to beat fast, Nathan lowered the binoculars and took several deep breaths, letting them out slowly to calm down. Bringing up the rifle, he pulled it tight into his shoulder and looked through the scope, settling the crosshairs on the quiet man’s chest. The anticipation was trying to get to him like he was fixing to play a college prank on them instead of killing them, or at least some of them.

  When they were at four hundred yards, Nathan wanted to yell at them to hurry up. To his surprise, they just kept strutting down the middle of the road, holding up their pants and trying to carry their rifles. Now he could tell most of the rifles were AKs and SKSs with at least one AR and a deer rifle. As they just gaggled down the road like a flock of geese, it dawned on Nathan that he’d shot those two yesterday later than this.

  “I bet they want to surround the store before I let the dog out,” he mumbled to himself.

  “I have a promise to keep to Quiet Man anyway,” he said, grinning. The entire group was now spread out across the road about ten yards deep. Nathan ticked the distance down till he saw Quiet Man and the other two with him at the caution sign. Letting them a little closer, he saw Quiet Man pointing ahead toward the building.

  Looking back, Nathan saw the last one pass the sign and rested the crosshairs on Quiet Man again. Taking a deep breath and letting half out slowly as he flipped to burst, Nathan gently squeezed the trigger, feeling the rifle shudder. Three red splotches appeared on Quiet Man’s chest as he fell back with his mouth open.

  Not stopping to watch, Nathan shifted and squeezed at the next one, seeing him jerk. Shifting to number three, he squeezed, seeing two hit his chest and the man’s left arm fall off. Moving back to the pack, Nathan saw everyone just drop to the pavement and could hear yelling off in the distance.

  Aiming at one, Nathan squeezed the trigger and watched half his head evaporate in a mist. Swinging to another one that was lying prone across the road, he squeezed and watched him roll when the bullets ripped into his side. Shifting, he shot two more then noticed the group crawling to the sides of the road. Seeing someone trying to pull Quiet Man to safety, Nathan shifted to them and squeezed before the crosshairs settled, shooting them in the pelvis. Noticing two were trying to pull one of the first three away to the ditch, Nathan rested the sight and squeezed on the first, watching him jerk and fall down. Moving to the next one he squeezed and only felt the rifle shudder twice. The man he was aiming at doubled over, grabbing his lower chest.

  Dropping the empty magazine, Nathan grabbed another magazine and settled back down. He could see eleven on this side of the road and only heads popping up on the other side. Everyone was orientated head first in his direction. He moved his crosshairs to the furthest man in the ditch and saw he was crawling away. Putting the sight between his shoulder blades, Nathan squeezed and watched him quiver with the impacts. Moving his sight to the next one in line, he squeezed, watching the man jump.

  Quickly but steadily, Nathan moved the crosshairs to the next one; as the man lifted up and looked behind him, three bullets struck him in the head and the top of his chest. Dropping his sights down to the next man, Nathan watched him lift up his rifle and aim at him on the roof; Nathan squeezed the trigger. Two bullets hit the man’s face and Nathan couldn’t tell where the third one went as he lowered his aim to the next one. Nathan squeezed the trigger and watched the man roll over, yelling.

  He heard several shots and moved his crosshairs to the next one, only to see him shooting out in the field beside them. Nathan squeezed the trigger, letting him know that he wasn’t out there. More shots were sounding off now as Nathan sighted on another one, hitting him in the back. It was chaos in the ditch as men scrambled and dove for cover. Hearing a bullet hit the cinderblocks around him, Nathan squeezed off two more bursts, hitting two more men. Then Nathan spotted one running toward the store and fired the last burst. The man did a flip as Nathan grabbed his empty magazine and quickly duckwalked back to the ladder.

  Throwing his leg over the side, Nathan heard, “It’s about damn time,” from below him. Grabbing the side of the ladder with his hands and scissor grabbing with his feet, Nathan did a fireman slide down. Landing beside Amanda, Nathan spun around, running for his gear.

  “Get ready by the door. We are leaving now,” he said, grabbing his pack and throwing it on then snapping the belt. He grabbed his bag, throwing it on over his head then glanced around to make sure everything was
packed. Satisfied, Nathan ran back to Amanda. He pulled out the empty magazine, handing it to her, “Hold this,” he said, pulling out another one and ramming it home. Chambering a round, he opened the door. “Stay close,” he ordered, moving across the parking lot at a quick pace. “Ares, heel.” The dog followed closely behind them.

  Down the road the gunfire had intensified to a steady stream. They hit the tree line around the parking lot, hearing the front glass windows shatter from gunfire. It was starting to sound like a war zone. Moving quickly, they continued on another hundred yards to where the field ended at the woods. Behind them they could still hear shooting but it was now just a shot every few seconds.

  “Boy did you piss them off,” Amanda said, breathing hard.

  “Yes I did, didn’t I,” Nathan said, grinning, and moved south deeper into the woods.

  “Hey, the Interstate is that way,” she said, pointing west.

  He stopped and looked at the tree line at the edge of the field. “Okay, let’s get started,” he said, turning west and keeping the field in sight. They moved through the woods at a rapid pace.

  Six hours later, Steven pulled into the parking lot and noticed the front door busted open and several windows blown out. His son and one of the men that worked at the farm were in the box truck with him. Mitch had told Steven about Nathan’s warning, but he hadn’t believed him. He jumped out of the truck and ran to the door. Seeing the gang inside, Steven started yelling for them to get out.

  An hour later, Mitch pulled in with the rest of the family and help. Seeing the front door busted, he stopped and was fixing to back out. Then Mitch noticed the box truck parked beside the building. Shrugging his shoulders, he pulled up to it. When the nine other family members got out of their vehicles, they were looking at a dozen men aiming weapons at them.

  When they pulled them inside, Mitch saw Steven naked and spread-eagled across a table. He was bleeding from too many places to see which spot was the worst. Then Mitch noticed his grandson naked and dead on the floor.

  For the next two hours, Mitch had to listen to his family get tortured, raped, and killed. His last thought before he died was that Steven would burn in hell for leading the family into a slaughter.

  The gang didn’t have long to celebrate their victory. The sheriff showed up that afternoon with Mark and Fred’s entire family: all five brothers, two sisters, their husbands, their dad, and four kids over sixteen. They threw in tear gas and sixteen men came out coughing. Two died when they didn’t drop their weapons. Seeing none of them were Nathan, Mark yelled ‘Open fire,’ killing those that had kneeled down.

  The group moved inside and found what was left of Mitch’s family and nineteen dead gang members, two already starting to bloat up. The brothers and Mark looked around but couldn’t find any of Nathan’s stuff, but they did find some pictures of a teenage boy pop singer pinned up in the casino. They all cheered, knowing Nathan had gotten away, although they wondered why he liked the teen boy singer.

  Fred and his brothers walked the area around the parking lot and found Nathan’s bootprints on the north side of the property. They followed them till they turned west behind the field, which told them that Nathan was heading to the Interstate and not Jessie’s. Fred found Mark and told him what they’d found, and Mark sighed with relief. Then Fred told him they’d seen another set of bootprints alongside Nathan’s.

  “What?” Mark said.

  “Yeah, another pair, and the thing is, I know whose boots those are. I’ve seen ’em before; they’re Neil’s boots. He tried to follow me last year saying I was bootleggin’. You know I don’t bootleg. I was poachin’ deer though,” Fred admitted. “Anyway, Neil left his prints everywhere. He wears a girl’s combat boot and the left heel is more worn than the right.”

  “Fred, Neil is in jail; you know that. You helped me carry him in,” Mark told him.

  “I’m just sayin’.”

  “Neil’s boots were here; anyone could’ve taken them,” Mark pointed out.

  “Yeah, but who?” Fred asked, and Mark shrugged his shoulders. Fred walked out and got the family as the sheriff and Mark got the scene locked down.

  The brothers grabbed Mitch’s vehicles and their family followed them to Mitch’s house. The rest of the ‘store group’ showed up and loaded up the stuff there. It took them two days but they moved all the stuff over, along with a working tractor and fuel. The group, now at forty-six adults, blocked off the deadend road leading to their farms after the brothers moved Mark’s new trailer over. Monica’s granddad had the first house on the deadend road and became the lookout as they worked to survive. They all spent time reading the information they’d downloaded from Nathan.

  Abigail opened her purse that night in the room Jessie had given to them. It was the first time since leaving the store she’d had any time, since they’d spent all day putting away all the supplies they had gathered. Inside her purse, she found two black t-shirts with ‘Sheriff’ in big white letters across the front, two pictures of Nathan and Ares standing beside a horse, two pictures of Ares and Nathan playing, and a flash drive with a note. Grabbing the note, she read:

  Abigail, the shirts are for you and Brad. Wear them and remember me. I really wanted to stay but—. The picture of me with Ares and the horse is for you and Brad, the one of us playing is for Ashlee and Raymond. I wrote a letter to you and Brad on the flash drive and I have to say I feel honored knowing both of you and calling you friends. I hope ‘this’ calms down soon because I want all of you to come up here. Who knows, you may like it and stay. I have room. I will do everything in my power to see all of you again.

  Love and will always miss all of you (I just have to say WOW)

  Nathan Owens

  P.S. I have my flip flops

  Abigail smiled.

  Chapter 13

  It only took an hour for Nathan and Amanda to reach the Interstate. It was around eight a.m. They dropped their packs and caught their breath. Looking back to the east, they could see the exit to the store and the shanty town but nothing else. Nathan reloaded his magazines he had used as they ate the biscuits, cheese, and bacon Amanda had put in a bag before Nathan started gunning down bangers.

  Amanda took a bottle of water from the side of her pack and took a long drink. As she started to put the top back on, Nathan grabbed it, getting a drink. “Hey, you have your own,” she said, pointing at the one-liter bottles on each side of his pack.

  He shook the half-empty bottle. “When we drink from bottles, we drink from one. They make a lot of noise sloshing around,” he said then took another drink. Kneeling down, Nathan cupped his hand and poured water in it, letting Ares drink.

  “At least you didn’t let him drink out of the bottle. He licks his butt,” Amanda said, patting Ares’ head.

  “I have my limits,” Nathan admitted as Ares finished the bottle off. “Remember to keep your bottle unless you get a new one,” he said, handing it back to her.

  “I remember,” she said, putting the empty bottle away. “There are not as many people today,” she said, putting on her pack.

  “It’s early yet,” Nathan replied, getting his pack on and stepping onto the highway. “I want you to hold my left hand and if you see something squeeze it. Every five minutes, look behind us and if you see something behind us squeeze my hand twice. Tell me what you see in a calm low voice.” He started walking.

  She grabbed his hand. “Why?” she asked.

  “I’m the one armed, and if they see me focusing in on them they might just shoot. You’re a kid and curious so most will ignore it,” he told her.

  “That’s smart and kind of makes sense,” she said, nodding.

  “Thank you,” he told her, glad she was thinking.

  After they had walked a little ways, Amanda turned around, looking behind them. “How many were coming for us?” she asked, looking on each side of the road.

  “Thirty-three,” he replied.

  “Thirty-three!” she yelled, stopping i
n her tracks.

  “Remember your voice we don’t want to attract attention,” he told her, pulling her to get her walking again. “That reminds me. If someone comes up talking don’t say anything to them. I may have to lie and I don’t want you to mess it up. Just act afraid of them.”

  “I have the pistol,” she said, motioning to the .38 he’d put on the belly strap of her pack.

  “Don’t call attention to it and remember, if I catch you playing with it I will spank your butt. It’s not a toy and the deal will be off. You could kill yourself, me, or Ares,” he told her with a serious tone.

  “I don’t want it then,” she said.

  “No, if something happens to me you will need it. Just don’t play with it. Only pull it out when you need it, and that means when you or me are about to die. It’s a tool just like a hammer. A hammer is dangerous if you don’t use it correctly.”

  “Okay,” she said, looking up at him, her hat falling off her head. “How many did you kill?” she asked, grabbing her hat and putting it back on.

  “Seventeen,” he told her.

  “You shot seventeen of them,” she said in a normal voice.

  “No. I shot nineteen; seventeen were dead by the time we reached the end of the field. The other two I’m sure will die but it might take a while,” he told her.

  “I wish I would’ve went up with you,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t have shot them then. We only had that one little hole to the ladder for an exit and then both of us would’ve had to get packs on then get Ares’ pack on. The ones left might’ve caught us then,” Nathan said.

  “Wow, that is thinking ahead,” Amanda smiled. “I’m glad I stayed down then. They should leave us alone now,” she said.