Cole’s son was agitated, but he wasn’t going to risk being shot for it. His expression was one of shock, which was normal when someone he thought was invincible was being taken apart one piece at a time.
“Who killed Haggerty?” I asked.
Cole’s son tore his eyes off the fight and looked at me. “Luke Blacktail cut the rope,” he said.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“Your friend killed him with an axe ten minutes ago.”
“Good,” I said. One thing taken care of.
Cole tried another rush and Charlie leaned into it, punching straight through Cole’s hands, and landing a solid punch right between Cole’s eyes. It stopped him dead in his tracks and he fell forward like a tree that had been cut. He slammed into the ground face first and lay there quietly.
Charlie shook his hand and left Cole, then came over to open the bag and let Cheyenne run around. She jumped out with a yelp and proceeded to sniff everything nearby. She looked up at Cole’s son with puppy eyes, but he shifted his foot and pushed her away.
Suddenly his eyes got huge as they stared at the ten-inch knife that had materialized and was held to his throat. I could almost hear him gulp for air as Charlie stared into his eyes.
“Touch that dog again, and I will kill you,” he said. Charlie never raised his voice above a normal range, and that probably scared the young Hobbes more than someone screaming the threat at him.
Cheyenne scampered around and spent a small amount of time sniffing Cole. She must have smelled something she didn’t like because she stepped back with her tail down and looked for Charlie to reassure her she was okay.
We waited a while for Cole to regain consciousness, and during that time we had a rather amusing gathering of individuals. People kept coming over a bridge and up to the small stockade, and we kept adding them to the small gathering that I watched over from the top of the platform Cole and company had recently vacated. It was interesting as I overheard brief snippets of conversation coming up from the collective.
“Had it coming a long time.”
“Not right, keeping those folks down there.”
“I’m not helping Cole no more; he gets what he deserves.”
“Carson would be worse; he’s just a bully.”
“Always somebody out there tougher than you. Cole just learned that the hard way.”
The comments made me realize that the regular people of this community were decent folk, who were just being held in submission by the big bully who was laying out in the dirt for all to see.
By the time Cole had awakened, I was standing guard over sixty-eight people. Cheyenne was the center of attention for a number of people, and she was as happy as I had ever seen her.
Charlie was the first thing Cole saw as he raised his head, and as his eyes cleared he noticed the group of people watching him. His bloodied face became a mask of rage, and he lumbered to his feet barking at the people he once ruled.
“What’s the matter with you idiots? Get them! Move, damn you!” he yelled.
It was very telling that no one moved at all. Carson stepped towards the group, and a couple of them actually stepped back. I figured the son was as bad as the dad when it came to being leaders of this community.
Cole sputtered in rage, and Charlie stepped forward to slap him across the face. Cole held a hand to his reddening cheek and started to bring his hands up when Charlie slapped him again. Cole shook that one off, and just as he began to move, Charlie slapped him a third time. Cole didn’t learn his lesson and brought his arms around again, and this time Charlie slapped him so hard it echoed across the canyon. That one brought Cole down to one knee, and after that he raised a single hand in surrender.
“All right, then,” I said. “My name is John Talon, and that man over there is Charlie James. We’re the leaders of the army that got trapped in your canyon, and we’re here to get them out. We can’t do it alone, so all of you are going to help. Any questions?”
There wasn’t really too much to discuss, so we walked back down the trail, and reached the streambed. We followed its winding trail down the mountain and into the canyon. Looking up, I saw we had gone in a complete circle. The bridge was above us, and I could see where the rockslides had caused so much trouble.
I told the townsfolk to start clearing a path, one wide enough for the vehicles I hoped we would drive out of here. I made my way to nearly the top of the rubble and ducked when someone took a shot at me.
“Hold your damn fire! It’s Talon!” I yelled. That bullet had come close.
There was a small amount of commotion out of sight, then a voice drifted over.
“Is that really you, John?”
“It is. Can I come over without anyone else shooting at me?” I asked.
“Sorry, sir! Please, please come over!”
I climbed over the rest of the boulders and rubble, slipping and nearly killing myself on a couple of sharp stones. On the other side of the pile was the lost part of my army. They looked like hell, but overall they could have been a lot worse off. We spoke for a good long time, and I told them they needed to get their things together and get the vehicles started. The canyon was huge and easily held the hundreds of cars and trucks that lined the edges.
As they started to pack up, I gave them one admonition. They were not to harm any of the townspeople. I had to fire a shot into the ground to get the clamor to quiet down.
“They are right now helping to get you out. The villains are the Hobbes’. They have controlled this town, and that reign has come to an end,” I said. “They will be dealt with. But you will leave the rest alone. Charlie killed the man who dropped Haggerty, so take what you can from that.”
That seemed to mollify the crowd. They began to prepare to leave, and with all the hands removing the debris, the passage was mostly cleared within a few hours. I said a few words over our fallen comrades, and with Charlie leading the way, the army began to move out of its rocky prison. I walked behind the last car making sure everyone got out, and we left nothing behind of value. I paused for a moment at Haggerty’s grave which was marked by a simple stone. The other graves were behind it closer to the cliff face. I doubted the graves would survive many floods in the spring, but there was nothing to be done about it now.
“At ease, Commander,” I said softly. “I’ll take it from here.”
We reached the road again, and the army was already moving back down the mountain. We needed supplies, munitions, and a really good night’s rest before the stink of this situation wore off.
I faced Cole Hobbes and his son Carson at the crossroads where the stream bisected the road. I put my rifle in the truck and turned to them. Behind them were the townsfolk who had helped us dig out our people.
I directed my question to them. “Do you need these two anymore?”
Several heads shook no, while one voice in the back shouted, “Hell, no!”
Cole glared at the group. His power was gone, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.
I looked at him. “Looks like you have a couple choices. Stay here and behave yourself, or take your family and go somewhere else.”
Cole grunted. “I built this town. I’m not leaving.”
Carson smirked. “Soon as you leave, things will go back to normal.”
I smiled. “Not as such,” I said, drawing my pistol and shooting Carson in the knee.
Carson screamed and dropped to the ground, holding his shattered leg. Cole roared and lunged forward, but I was ready for that. As he grabbed for me, I ducked under his arm, grabbing his coat. I used his momentum and arched my back as he went over my shoulder. I used the grip I had on his coat to push down as hard as I could and slammed him to the ground.
Cole’s breath barked out of him, leaving him gasping on the stone. I stood up and went over to Carson who was groaning about his wounded leg.
“That was for Alice. I could have killed you, but then it would have been over. This way, every time you take a
step that hurts, you’ll remember why I shot you,” I said. “If I ever see you outside of this area and you have a weapon in your hand, I’ll shoot on sight, figuring you’re too stupid to live.”
I looked up at the townspeople. “They’re yours. I got what I came for. The world out there is changing. The zombies are still bad, but we’re making some progress. You have a good place here. It’s safe. I’d rather not be looking over my shoulder when this is all done.”
I got in the truck, and Charlie fired up the engine. We backed out of the stream and headed back down the logging trail, leaving the community behind.
Charlie waited until we reached the bottom of the hill before he spoke.
“What do you plan to do with that community?” he asked.
“Nothing. We might tap them for the skills they have, but they weren’t responsible for what happened,” I said.
“True, but they didn’t do anything, either.”
“Fear can paralyze. People don’t like to challenge the status quo even though they know it’s wrong. We both can name a dozen situations in this war and all the ones past when people should have done something, but they didn’t,” I said.
“Right enough. Where we headed after this?”
“Well, we’ve wasted enough time on this, and our families are on their way to meet us. Plan was to get to down to Denver and meet the rest of the army who should be swinging north along the Rocky Mountains to meet us there,” I speculated.
“Families coming out here? By themselves?” Charlie asked, concerned.
“You think Sarah and Rebecca would do that?” I asked.
Charlie shook his head. “Sorry. You’re right. When did we say we would meet them?”
“Calendars are off, so it was supposed to be four full moons. We’re on our way to the fourth. We’d better get moving. I’d say we have about two weeks.”
Charlie made a face. “We need to get through Wyoming in the winter and meet up with Duncan and Tommy in two weeks?”
“Might want to drive faster,” I said. “Wonder what those two are up to, anyway?”
“Knowing them, probably just taking a leisure drive along the southern states, taking in the sights,” Charlie said.
Albuquerque, New Mexico.
“Why are we in a Motel 6?”
“It was open.”
“They were all open.”
“This one didn’t have any broken windows.”
“So?”
“So it’s forty degrees out. It’s cold, and I can’t sleep well in the cold.”
“God, you’re weird.”
“Yeah, Charlie says that a lot, too.”
“He’s right a lot.”
“Shut up.”
The two men bickered like old friends, which is exactly what they were. They had known each other for a long time, even before the Upheaval, and by some miracle they were still around to give each other hell.
Tommy stretched. “I’m going to go back to my room and sleep. I’ve had enough losses at cards to last me a while. Are you going to give me my ammo back?” The two men had used their cartridges as money to bet with.
“Only the little stuff.” Duncan laughed.
“You suck, and you probably cheated,” Tommy said, scooping up his pistol ammo.
“Probably. See you in the morning.”
Tommy paused on his way out the door. “Do you think we did the right thing sending most of the army north to clear out Kansas and Nebraska while we play around here with just five hundred fighters?”
Duncan shrugged. “Whose idea was it?”
“Yours.
“Then yes, it was a good idea.”
Tommy laughed. “Christ. I’m outta here.” He left the room, and Duncan was by himself. They were spending the night in a small motel on the outskirts of Albuquerque, New Mexico. The Rio Grande was just a little ways to the east, and beyond that was the city proper. Tommy and Duncan had led the army through Texas, picking up fighters and dropping them off as they cleared out zombie stronghold after zombie stronghold. Dallas was a lost cause, but surprisingly Houston was not. The people there managed to contain their outbreaks and maintain their safety. They were down to half their original population, but it was far better than some other communities.
Other towns fared better; the ones that were further away from the main roads and cities did just fine. It was the same story across most of the state which was why Tommy and Duncan accelerated the push across the state into New Mexico. There were still large populations of zombies in the southern part of the state, but they were running short on time and needed to start the long sweep across the southwest and up to the north. Based on what they had to do, Arizona was going to have to wait.
In the morning, Duncan and Tommy were on the roof of the hotel, looking out over the river at the city. Ten of their commanders were with them who would convey the orders of the day down to the squads. Most of the orders were understood standing orders: Don’t do anything stupid, and try not to die. The rest pretty much consisted of working their way through the city and trying to root out as many zombies as they could. The plan was to take a small group through the city, get the zombies to start chasing, then take them to a killing zone where the rest of the fighters were waiting. It worked in the last two cities, although Duncan was getting a little worried since their ammo supply was getting low. The resupply trucks were with the main force, and though both he and Tommy thought they would be able to scrounge enough from the countryside, they hadn’t found as much as they had hoped.
Tommy pointed to the mountains. “That’s our refuge in case things get ugly here. Just run east until you start going up. Tell your people that, too.”
The commanders all nodded. One of them, a smaller gentleman called Haram, spoke up.
“Sir?”
Duncan looked at him. “What’s up?”
“Sir, I’ve been doing a little scouting, me and one of my men, and I’m fairly certain there’s something weird here,” Haram said.
Everyone on the roof was paying attention now. Haram was known for his “feelings,” and every single time he was right.
Duncan nodded for Haram to go on.
“Sir, I went out to check the bridges, and two of them were blocked—no way through. The third and fourth were also blocked, but in such a way that someone who knew the route could get through quickly if he was being chased,” Haram said.
Tommy took that in. “Did you go through?”
“No sir. While we were looking at the bridges, my alarm bells were going off in my head, and we got out of there,” Haram said, apologetically.
Duncan smiled. “Good idea. Well, at least we’re not walking in blind now. Thanks, Haram. You’re better than Tucker.”
Everyone smiled at that. Tucker was famous in the army, and everyone wanted to use him as a scout.
The group came down off the roof and went to their fighters. Duncan and Tommy went to their group of scouts and got ready for their part of the trip. The plan originally was to take the cautious route through, but after Haram’s warning, Duncan was feeling a bit anxious and wanted to see what was up with this city. Tommy knew better than to try and change his mind, so he just went with it.
The two men climbed back aboard their truck and headed towards the river. The scouts followed, and in a short time they were staring at the bridge Haram talked about. Duncan woke up a very sleepy Tucker and showed him the bridge. Tucker responded by yawning and going back to sleep.
“So much for our furry friend’s instincts,” Tommy said.
“Never said he was infallible,” Duncan said defensively. “What do you want to do about this so-called fake barricade?”
Tommy considered that. “What do you think John would do if he was here?”
“Probably introduce himself, and see if the bridge fell over in shock and awe,” Duncan said.
The two men laughed for a moment. They loved their friend like a brother, but they did see a few odd quirks in him.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Duncan explained when he calmed down a bit. “But did you ever wonder why he always introduced himself everywhere we went?”
“Helps spread the myth, keeps hope alive, I don’t know,” Tommy said. “How many places has he saved? How many lives would have been lost if he hadn’t thought of a better way to get through this other than hunkering in and hoping no zombie found you?”
Duncan held up his hands. “You laughed, too, by the way. I’m just pointing out one of his little traits. I’m not saying we all don’t owe him a lot.”
Tommy nodded. “Yes, I will agree with you on that one. Now think differently. What would Charlie do with this barricade?”
Ten minutes later, the biggest truck in the group was plowing through the debris, knocking a good bit of it into the Rio Grande. The group moved on, slipping into the heart of the town. They didn’t encounter any zombies out in the open, which was odd, since the weather was about forty-five degrees, and zombies were certainly active at that temperature.
Tommy, who was driving in the lead car, stopped at the center of an intersection. The houses were built in a mostly uniform manner; lower to the ground and running mostly to single-story buildings. Several homes were of a more traditional box shape, while others had the generic look of homes all across the nation. At this particular junction, the homes were definitely more of the old Spanish style, with thick adobe walls and low trees to provide shade from the sun in the summer.
Tommy got out, and Duncan followed. The two men retrieved their rifles and waited until the rest of the group had joined them. They split into two groups and went in separate directions. They would walk and check for zombies going around two blocks, then regroup at the cars, and move on two blocks.
They walked steadily down the street, keeping an eye on the houses. They weren’t here in force, so they didn’t go from house to house. They were also trying to conserve their ammo, so this was more of a scouting mission than a clearing one. They were also looking to see if they could figure out what was setting off Haram’s warning system.
White Flag of the Dead (Book 9): The Zombie Wars (We All Fall Down) Page 10