Divided We Stand (What's Left of My World Book 4)

by C. A. Rudolph

  Mark looked confused. “Okay, but why, then? There has to be a reason why.”

  “Not always, kid. People don’t need a reason to breathe, it just happens. Same goes for being an asshole, some of us are just born that way. I mean, look at me. I’ve only recently decided to part with my old errant ways. Aside from this recent transformation, I’m no different than any of them.”

  “I don’t believe that,” said Mark. “I don’t believe that at all. And you’re proving it to us right now.”

  Sasha smiled and reached for Mark’s chin, cupping it with her thumb and index finger. “That’s sweet, kid, it is. But if you knew the real me, the person I was before you met me on the mountain, you might think otherwise.”

  A sudden rumble from outside the house brought the conversation to a close. Whipping his head around instinctively, Chad crawled to the window and rested his chin on the sill. “Shit. We got more company.”

  “What kind?” his brother asked.

  “The kind that drives around in two black MRAPs.” Chad motioned for Sasha and Mark to keep their heads down and away from the window. “Looks like they’re headed to join their friends.”

  “This is a popular place,” said Mark. “What the hell are they doing bringing MRAPs to a deserted neighborhood?”

  Sasha went to light up another cigarette, but after catching sight of the mine-resistant vehicles with gun turrets parading past through the window, she thought better of it. “It’s a show of force. Normal for the times. They mosey those things up and down the roads all over the place, all day, every day,” she said passively. “Don’t forget where you are right now, kid. This is occupied territory…FEMA region three. That right there is the same show of force they used to scare everyone into handing over their guns and turning themselves in.”

  “Not everyone,” Chad said.

  Sasha nodded slightly. “You’re right, stud. Most everyone. The ones who refused or played tough guy were either taken by force or took two to the chest.”

  Chad shook his head in disbelief. “I’m still amazed every time I hear something like that. Dad even used to say there was no way Americans would just bend over and give up their guns, especially to a corrupt government. Consequences be damned.”

  “Cold dead hands,” Sasha huffed in a contemptuous tone. “Spoken like a true ’Merican.”

  “What?”

  “Sorry, hon. That’s ill-begotten patriot logic,” Sasha quipped. “It’s easy being tough when a gun’s not pointed at you or someone you love. What if the consequences involved some clown federal agent with an attitude in full riot regalia, all hopped up on barbiturates and Red Bull, screaming demands at you while holding an MP5 like the one you’ve got to your mother’s head? Or maybe your brother’s? Or your sister’s? Because that’s what they did, and it worked wonders.” She paused. “All they had to do was scare the living shit out of people, one house at a time, one loving family at a time, gestapo style. Did you really think their plan was to come after everyone at the same time? Or wait until everyone in the country found a way to unite and be strong enough to actually put up a fight against them?” Sasha chuckled. “Please…you don’t fight your enemy at their strongest point, hon. You split them up, divide them as much as possible, and attack their weak spots. That strategy has been working like a charm for years.”

  Chad’s expression contorted into a frown as he contemplated what he was hearing. “I guess I can see your point. It’s not easy to swallow, but it makes sense.”

  “Back to my question,” Mark interjected. “Why are they doing it?”

  Sasha shrugged and searched the scene beyond the window once more. “Who the hell knows? It’s a business of haves and have-nots like it’s always been, except now the haves are snuffing out the have-nots in grand fashion so they can have even more.” She sighed, shaking her head, then finally lit her cigarette. “Taking a look around, though, there doesn’t seem to be much left. They’ve wiped out so many. I suppose the goal could be to rule over one big damn graveyard.”

  “A graveyard,” Mark repeated timidly. He paused, then asked, “Do you know if they’re…killing people in the camp?”

  Sasha didn’t respond immediately. She sucked in a deep drag and let the smoke roll from her mouth in a slow fashion; then she made a smoke ring and broke it with her finger. “I’ve only heard rumors,” she said. “Supposedly, policies exist under martial law that authorize corporal punishment, which in their eyes, I’m sure means good old holocaust-style euthanasia. There’s a little-known building in the camp’s southern annex they call Area E. I remember Dan—my ex-husband—talking about it with some of the club elders over scotch and cigars one night. It’s where they ‘humanely terminate’ people, whatever that means.”

  “Jesus,” Mark reacted. “I never thought—”

  “Me neither, kid,” Sasha said. “People can be sick sonsabitches. Sure would be nice to see whoever’s responsible get what they deserve someday. A little karma goes a long way, and it’s coming to them. Of course, karma affects all of us equally. It’ll come knocking at my door one of these days, too.”

  “But you haven’t always been…a criminal,” said Mark. “You said it yourself. You were abducted when you were young. You didn’t choose to be influenced by those bikers.”

  “No, kid, you’re right. I didn’t choose to, initially. But I made plenty, and I mean plenty of decisions on my own that resulted in a lot of people getting hurt, and just as many, if not more, getting killed.” Sasha paused, smiling a little. “Before I was coerced into a life of semi-organized crime, I was a skinny, bowlegged farm girl from West by God Virginia. I know, to look at me now you’d never know it. I grew up in Pendleton County, right along the river, and while my memories have faded over the years, there’s lots of things I see around these parts that remind me of home. Sometimes…I can still see my mom’s and dad’s faces in my mind.”

  “Maybe you’ll make it back there someday.”

  Sasha grinned. “Yeah, kid, why not? That’s some serious wishful thinking, but I suppose crazier things have happened.”

  “Like us sneaking out of here,” Chad said, glancing out the window. “Look, I’m not trying to kill the conversation, as lovely as it is, but I don’t want to be here any more than either of you do. I think we should take our chances and get out of here now while we still can.”

  “Yeah, maybe he’s right. This is getting a little too hairy for me,” Mark said. “As much as I like the conversation…and the company, I think we should consider heading back. Even if we have to walk it.”

  Sasha sighed. “Okay, boys. Fine. I suppose we can come back later for the bikes. I really hate to lea—”

  The sound of multiple barking dogs halted Sasha midsentence. She sat there, pale-faced, hesitating to even release the inhaled smoke from her lungs. Both Chad and Mark went into full-on alert.

  Chad crawled to the window yet again, looking to his right, then left toward the intersection where they’d hid the motorcycles. “I swear—must be a party at that house today. It’s a damn DHS K-9 unit,” he whispered urgently. “They’re pulling past…I don’t think they saw the bikes.”

  “Yeah, but did they smell them?” added Mark.

  “Dammit,” Sasha hissed. “I hate dogs, especially those furry Marmadukes the feds always have with them. They’re always shedding all over the place and slobbering everywhere—and that’s when they’re not chomping a hole in your ass.”

  Chapter 15

  Trout Run Valley

  Wednesday, December 1st

  Alex got down on her knees near Michelle and Jesseca and explained what she had seen. She pointed to the woods on the left narrowly past the bridge. “Looks like there’s a group of houses tucked in the woods down there. They’re really close together and look kind of run-down.”

  Michelle nodded. “That’s where the Bradys live. The late Mr. and Mrs. Brady’s house is the first one you come across. The other three houses belong to their sons.”r />
  “All four families on the same lot?” Jess asked. “That close to each other?” She lifted a brow. “Strange folks.”

  Alex heeded her mother. “I didn’t have the best point of view from where I was standing. Should we check the houses out next?”

  Jesseca pursed her lips, looking a bit unsettled. “I don’t know. Can you do it without being seen?”

  “It looks pretty open, but I can try.”

  “I don’t like this,” Michelle said. “Did you see signs of anyone around or hear anything when you were up there, Alex?”

  Alex shook her head. “No, it was way quiet. I was worried at first too because I didn’t see the houses until I was in the middle of the road. If someone had been there, they would’ve seen me.” She looked to her mother. “Should I go now, Mom?”

  Jesseca hesitated.

  “No,” Michelle blurted out. “Sweetie, you’ve done enough. I think it’s high time the adults stepped up to the plate. I’ll go check it out.”

  Michelle went to stand, but Jesseca reached for her shoulder. “Not without us watching your back, you won’t.”

  “Fine,” Michelle said, “suit yourself.”

  Michelle cleared the barricade and used every bit of her willpower to disregard the slain bodies of George and Elizabeth Brady, peering over only for a second to verify their identities.

  She turned the corner, passing the stack of corroded mailboxes, and trudged along the hard-packed dirt driveway leading into the Bradys’ property. In seeing the first house on her left, Michelle reminisced about the initial time she had visited just a few months ago. She imagined seeing crazy-eyed, wild-haired George Brady dash out of his doorway, mammoth double-barrel shotgun in hand, shouting threats in her direction while being just as obtuse and irrational as he’d always been. Though she reminded herself he’d never so much as spoken a foul word to her.

  The front door was sitting wide open, appearing to have been kicked in, and the tattered screen door hung at an awkward angle to the side, ripped free from most of its hinges. The homes belonging to his sons and their families showed similar damage.

  With the SBR held tight to her shoulder, Michelle moved cautiously onto the front porch of the home belonging to Bo and Amber Brady. She examined the doorway for a second, then stepped inside, feeling her heart pound away furiously.

  The interior of the home was trashed, appearing to have been completely ransacked, although Michelle didn’t have any basis for comparison. She’d never actually been invited to tour the interior of any of the Bradys’ homes before. For all she knew, this was how they lived, in utter disarray.

  The farther she walked into the rickety shack of a home, the more the scene gave off a different air. Broken photo frames, mirrors, and other glass items, along with torn-apart furniture and smashed children’s toys, were strewn about amongst piles of garbage and soiled clothing.

  Michelle knelt upon finding a decapitated stuffed animal, its lining scattered from place to place all over the splintered hardwood flooring. Rodent feces peppered the floor, as though small animals had already started to take possession of the material to use for bedding in their dens.

  A sudden noise creaked behind her, and Michelle rotated quickly to see Jesseca entering the home, the muzzle of her M1 carbine leading the way.

  Jesseca lowered her weapon and exhaled loudly to the point of sounding repulsed. “Ugh. What a mess!” She moved farther inside, and the floor creaked underfoot. “I take it the place is empty?”

  Michelle dropped the headless doll on the floor and stood. “Looks that way. But something happened here. I’m just not sure what.”

  Jess reached up, finding the ceiling low enough for her to touch with her fingers. “And here all along, I thought my place was small. How many people lived here?”

  “This is Bo’s home. He and his wife have a son and three girls, two of them younger than ten…all of them with hair as blond as Goldilocks,” Michelle said. “Bo and Austin are with the others on the expedition, so that leaves a headcount of four. All female.”

  “And no sign of them,” Jesseca expounded. “Four females in a house this tiny, we would’ve definitely heard something by now.”

  Michelle headed back outside. “This is bad, Jess. Really bad. Where’s Alex?”

  “Checking out the hovel behind this one.”

  Jesseca followed Michelle out the front door and around back toward the house belonging to Ricky, the youngest of the three brothers, who had also joined the expedition, leaving his wife, Nicole, to look after the house. His sons, Tommy and Wayne, had stayed behind to continue their guard duties at Wolf Gap.

  As they approached, Alex exited the home and sheathed both daggers she had been holding in her hands, then shrugged her narrow shoulders. “This house is empty, and everything inside is all broken and busted up, like they were robbed. I don’t think there’s anyone here anywhere.”

  Michelle let out a sigh of despair. “Ricky has a wife and two teenage sons.” She pointed to the remaining house. “That’s Junior’s house. He’s the only one of Mr. Brady’s sons who didn’t go on the road trip.”

  “I checked that house, too,” Alex said. “It’s as empty as this one.”

  Jesseca exhaled through her nostrils. “Well, shit. This day just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry, Jesseca, I don’t know what to say,” Michelle said. “Something terrible is happening here, and I didn’t mean to get you and the girls mixed up in this.”

  “Oh, come on, Michelle,” Jesseca quipped. “You didn’t know you were gonna leave your house today and come back home to a damn invasion. If I didn’t want to be here, my girls and me would simply head home and leave you to it.” She hesitated a moment. “Now, I do have to admit, while there are many things I consider myself good at, frontal assault isn’t one of them. My dad, on the other hand, would love to be here right now, but I didn’t inherit his knack for making moves.” She sighed. “That being said, any idea where we go from here?”

  Michelle looked at Jesseca, then Alex, realizing she had indeed been inadvertently placed into a position of leadership. “Dammit,” she huffed. “I can’t believe it. Lauren said this was going to happen. I swear to God, that kid…”

  Alex grew inquisitive. “Lauren said what was going to happen? That the valley was going to be attacked?”

  Michelle nearly chuckled. “No, not exactly. She said with Fred gone and our group divided, I might have to take the lead. I guess I never gave any thought to it actually happening.”

  “Interesting, this daughter of yours,” said Jess. “The one whom I’ve yet to meet. Michelle, if we make it out of this alive, I really would like for that to happen someday.”

  “Jess, I promise you, if we figure this one out, once she gets home, that meeting is next on my list.”

  “I’ll hold you to it,” Jesseca said, looking around. “I suppose there’s no point in staying here any longer. I vote we make ourselves scarce, but I’ll defer to our newly crowned, reluctant leader. What’s our first order of business?”

  Michelle let out a long, worried sigh, then shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’ll think of something.”

  Not having worn a watch on her wrist since well before the collapse, Michelle had no way of knowing precisely how long it had been since Jesseca’s girls had departed. The sky was beginning to get darker, and she sat nervously beside her buxom new friend in the woods just off the road, keeping her eyes peeled for signs of their return.

  “I swear,” Michelle said, breaking the silence. “It’s been at least two hours.”

  “No, I think it’s been more like one.” Jesseca tweaked the M1 carbine’s position, finding a more comfortable spot against her shoulder. “You act like they’re your kids. You’re more worried about them than me.”

  “I am worried about them. And the only reason I even suggested sending them on the errand was per your confidence in them.”

  “They’ll be back
soon, Michelle. You needn’t worry. And once they get back, we’ll know everything there is to know. And hopefully, that’ll be enough.”

  “Yeah, hopefully. After witnessing what’s happened today, I’m really scared for everyone else.” Michelle paused to fret. “I’m frightened for Grace especially.”

  “Grace?”

  “My stepdaughter. She’s like a second child to me.”

  Jesseca shook her head, ostensibly taken aback. “Stepson, stepdaughter, stepchild, step-whatever…that’s just the socially correct term. It’s far and away from representing how you feel.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that stepdaughter or not, if you love her, and it’s pretty clear you do, then she’s your daughter. Period. And that makes her Lauren’s sister. Period. End of sentence.”

  Michelle sighed, hanging her head a bit. “I pray nothing’s happened to her…or anyone else. Fred called it…he even told us that dividing us up like this was going to put a damper on our defenses. As if our friends getting sick wasn’t bad enough. Sometimes…I feel like we’re running out of options here.”

  Jesseca pointed into the trees on the other side of the road, diverting Michelle’s attention. “There they are. See them? I count three pretty heads of hair.”

  Michelle let out a breath of relief. “Thank God.”

  Jesseca smiled and patted Michelle on the back as her daughters made their way, one at a time, across the road and into the hide.

  Desirée, the youngest, darted over first and settled in Jesseca’s arms. Mack followed her, and Alex brought up the rear, strolling across the road with poise and in no apparent rush.

  Jesseca regarded her girls in loving fashion. “Okay, talk to us. Don’t keep us in suspense. What did you guys see?”