Badlands Trilogy (Book 3): Out of the Badlands

by Brian J. Jarrett

  Jasper gave a weak smile. “Thanks, Ed.”

  Ed stood. “Give it time, that’s what it’s going to take.”

  Jasper nodded.

  Ed walked to the door and opened it. “Get better,” he said, pausing at the door. “We’re going to need you.”

  He left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Jasper to his thoughts.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Alice felt the van slow. She couldn’t see anything though the plywood barrier between the rear of the van and the cab, but she could hear the conversation. A small hole had been cut in the divider, but it was too small to see anything through. It seemed put there only to allow communication from the back to the front.

  “What the fuck is that up there?” the man in the passenger seat asked. He called himself Buck. Somehow the guy was forty pounds overweight, despite the lack of readily available food these days. She wondered if he just had a slow metabolism or just ate that much human meat. Either way he was a slovenly, balding man with a personality to match.

  “It’s a jeep,” Barnes said from the driver’s seat. “Or it used to be. Looks like something chewed it up and spit out.”

  The van came to a slow stop and Alice listened intently.

  “A couple of bodies inside,” Barnes continued.

  “Any good meat on them?” a lanky man in the back with Alice asked. He called himself “Stooge” and had a thin, trailer park mustache and beard, the kind that never really seemed to grow in fully.

  “Crispy critters, they are,” Buck said.

  “Damn,” Stooge said. “I’m getting hungry back here.”

  “Plenty back at the freak church,” Barnes said. “More than enough, so hold your goddamn horses.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  Alice glanced around the back of the van. Savages. The only thing keeping her alive was the knowledge of the route. She planned to hold on to that as long as she could.

  “What’s going on up there, boss?” another man said from the back. This one sported a short and squat stature along with a long scar along his left cheek that he continuously stroked. He called himself Lefty.

  “Nothing. Just keep quiet and be ready,” Barnes replied. “I’ll let you know if we’re going to see action.”

  Lefty went back to stroking the scar and keeping his mouth shut.

  Barnes prodded the van forward. It lurched with a sputter as they continued along the rotting concrete highway for another thirty seconds or so. Barnes brought the van to a stop and Alice heard the doors open. She listened intently, but couldn’t hear anything else. The seconds ticked by as the men in the back looked around at each other in the murky light with what Alice thought was nervousness, excitement or a mixture of both.

  A minute or two later the back doors of the van opened, flooding the rear of the van with bright, unfiltered sunlight. Alice shielded her eyes, making out the silhouette of a man. “You,” he said, pointing at her. “Out.”

  Alice recognized the voice. It was Buck. She rose, hunching down to avoiding hitting her head on the van’s roof, her wrists bound by cotton rope as she walked out between two rows of Barnes’s men. She hopped out of the van and onto the pavement. Buck gripped her firmly by her left arm and led her around the side of the van.

  There the charred wreckage of another van awaited them. Tires melted to the concrete, the burnt frame of the vehicle exposed like the bones of a rotting carcass. Inside the blackened bodies of eight people remained, twisted and mangled. Rifles and pistols, still clutched in some of their hands.

  Barnes gestured toward the wreckage. “Any thoughts?”

  Alice stood for a moment, her eyes adjusting to the light and her mind searching for an answer. The trucks only had M16 rifles and a few random pistols. Whatever had done this was either a roadside bomb or a fucking rocket launcher, neither of which would indicate Ed Brady or anyone else in what was left of his group was responsible.

  But that wasn’t the answer Steven Barnes wanted and Alice knew that. She scrambled for a story.

  “It was them,” she lied. “Brady and the crew. They used one of the rocket launchers on the truck.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Barnes asked.

  “I’m not. But it’s an educated guess.” She took a step toward the wreckage.

  Buck gripped her by the arm and pulled her back. She looked at Barnes. Barnes nodded to Buck and she felt the beast’s hand release her. Alice walked to the wreckage and placed her hands on the charred metal. “Still warm.”

  “Sun’s out,” Buck said. “Don’t prove shit.”

  Barnes held up a finger, shushing him.

  “Bodies look pretty well intact too,” she continued. “No doubt they’d have been eaten up by now if this was an old scene. Even if they’re charcoal that the carriers don’t have an appetite for, they’d surely be in a much worse state after spending some time in the elements.”

  “So what are you saying?” Barnes asked.

  “I’m saying what I said before,” Alice said. “It’s them. My guess is that they ran into some guys who wanted their shit and these poor bastards got a face full of explosion for their effort. And by the state of this scene it seems our boys aren’t too far ahead of us. They’re taking the same route we planned on, just like I said they would.”

  Barnes paused, looking at the wreckage and considering. She could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

  “Makes sense,” Barnes finally said. He shielded his eyes and looked further down the highway. “As close as we are we need to keep going, but with the firepower they got we gotta be careful. We’ll need to catch them with their pants down.” He glanced at the wreckage. “Chasing them down isn’t the best strategy.”

  Buck stepped forward and gripped Alice by the arm again. He began walking her toward the back of the van.

  “Wait,” Barnes said. “Put her up front with me.”

  “What?” Buck said.

  “Just fucking do it,” Barnes replied, his face stern.

  Buck hesitated for a moment. Barnes face became a scowl.

  “Sure thing, boss,” Buck replied. “Whatever you say.” He led Alice around the front of the van and opened the passenger door, shoving her inside more forcefully than necessary. He slammed the door, growling at her before walking toward the back to take his place among the other men.

  This time Alice didn’t suppress the smile.

  Barnes opened the driver’s side door and slipped inside. “Don’t get any ideas.”

  Alice didn’t reply.

  Barnes shoved the keys into the ignition and started the engine. He put the transmission into drive and looked over at her. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about what’s on that truck. And don’t leave out one fucking detail.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Emily, Tex’s resident EMT, dabbed alcohol on Jasper’s stitches, causing him to wince.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You saved my life.”

  “That might be an exaggeration, but you’re welcome all the same.”

  “Well, I’ll be able to walk at least. These days if you can’t walk you’re as good as dead.”

  Emily taped a new gauze pad over Jasper’s stitches. “I suppose that’s a fair statement.”

  “Good, then we agree.”

  She looked up at him and smiled before throwing the used and bloody gauze pad into a trash bag.

  “So…what’s your story?” Jasper asked.

  Emily focused her attention putting the medical supplies into a cardboard box. “I don’t have a story.”

  “Sure you do. Everybody does.”

  She looked up from work and returned a weak smile. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Jasper nodded. “Sure, I understand.” He thought about Sue, her head twisted as that unnatural angle. So much blood. He changed the subject. “So what’s up with Tex and the rest of you guys?”

  “We’re just people trying to survive,” Emi
ly replied. “Like anybody else.”

  “Anybody still alive isn’t like everybody else. You guys are doing something right here.”

  Emily closed the box and placed it onto a shelf and turned to him. “We’re just a group of people who keep our heads down and take care of each other.”

  “Sounds like a good group.”

  “We get by.”

  “I never really relied on anybody,” Jasper said. “Had this little apartment that I stocked up on stuff that I scavenged. I had a motorcycle too. Man, that place was full of stuff. I wonder sometimes whatever happened to it all.”

  Emily sat down on a stool and faced Jasper. “Why’d you leave it?”

  “I met Ed.”

  “Your leader?”

  Jasper chuckled. “Leader. Just sounds funny when you say it out loud.”

  “Is he not your leader?”

  “No, he is. It’s just that he’s more like a father figure to me, I guess.”

  “Is he qualified to lead?”

  “Yeah, I trust him completely.”

  “You know him from way back then?”

  “You could say that. I found him in bad shape, all busted up from a train wreck. His girl and his kids were missing. I helped get him back on his feet and we went off looking for them. Found them in Kansas City.”

  “Missouri?”

  Jasper nodded.

  “That was a noble thing to do.”

  “Well, at first I thought he might be a girl.”

  “He doesn’t look like a girl to me,” Emily replied with a chuckle.

  “No, I mean before I actually found him. He was stuck in the train wreck and a bunch of carriers were swarming the train car, hoping for a free meal. I went after him because I thought maybe a girl might be trapped inside. When I got there I found out otherwise. Not that Ed’s not a great guy, but I was a little disappointed.”

  “You were expecting to be the knight in shining armor rescuing the damsel in distress.”

  “Something like that.”

  Emily smiled. She walked to his bed and placed a hand on his arm. “It’s still noble.”

  Jasper smiled. It hurt his face, but he did it anyway. Couldn’t help it.

  “I’ll be back to check on you later,” Emily said. “Try to get some sleep.” She smiled at him as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Jasper placed his palm over the area where Emily had touched his arm. He knew it was in his head, but he could have sworn it still felt warm to the touch.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Ed, Terry and Herb—along with four men from Tex’s group—buried Burt in a vacant lot a block away from Tex’s building. It occurred to Ed as he dug alongside Herb that he’d had very little conversation with the white-haired man who’d joined their group during the escape from Enoch’s church. By all appearances, Burt was a level-headed and helpful person who didn’t say much and didn’t make himself a burden. Given the shit that Ed had been through, he could have used a few more people just like Burt. Ed wondered what had made Burt the man he was, what he’d seen after the virus and exactly what he’d seen while locked up in Enoch’s hellish prison.

  Things looked increasingly grimmer as each day passed and Ed wondered on more than one occasion whether or not leaving the camp in Kansas City had been the best idea. They were close enough to turn back now—closer to Kansas City than they were to California—but going back didn’t guarantee anything. Eventually the food would be consumed, the water would run dry and the bullets would be used up. What would they do then? Go back to rocks and sticks? Eat each other like the Donner party?

  Going back might seem attractive on the surface, but it provided only a short-term solution. Eventually they’d be forced to leave and better to leave on their own terms.

  Armed with automatic rifles, two of Tex’s men stood guard while two more helped Ed and his men dig. Ed didn’t remember their names outside of one: a dark-haired kid named Tony who stood seven feet tall with a hard face, but spoke with a soft and reassuring voice. Like all of Tex’s people Ed had met thus far, Tony proved kind and helpful.

  Ed liked Tex. The world after the virus made it hard to trust pretty much anybody, but Tex appeared to be genuine. He’d helped them when he didn’t have to and hadn’t forced them to do anything they didn’t want to do, exactly the opposite of how Enoch had been. They couldn’t afford another mistake like Enoch. There would be no second chance for escape the next time.

  They dug for another hour, creating one three foot deep hole wide enough in which to place both bodies. Tex asked Ed if he’d like to say a few words, but Ed couldn’t really find anything to say. In the end he simply acknowledged the loss and said he’d wished he could have gotten more time to get to know Burt. The words seemed hollow and meaningless as they tumbled out of his mouth, but he figured that was probably true of any words said following a death. What could one really say to make any sort of difference at all?

  They gently lowered the body into the hole, filling it much more quickly than it had taken to dig. They piled the extra dirt on top, creating a mound that would eventually settle flush with the ground. Ed wondered briefly if he should have left some sort of marker behind, but remembering the thousands upon thousands of rotting corpses he and his sons had seen along the way told him that Burt got a much better burial than a whole hell of a lot of other people did.

  In the end Ed left the grave unmarked. Given enough time, everybody ended up in an unmarked grave.

  * * *

  Ed, Zach, Jeremy and Trish sat in a corner of the large communal room Tex had provided them. Ed wondered if he should have inserted himself into the center of the group, engaging the others. He supposed that was what a real leader would do, but he didn’t feel particularly like a real leader at the time, not with so many dead under his direction.

  “Dad, do you think these people are okay?” Zach asked. “Tex and the others?”

  “I think so,” Ed said.

  “Not like those people at the church?” Jeremy added.

  “No, not like them.”

  Trish touched Jeremy’s cheek. “You did what you had to back there. You saved our lives, all of us.”

  Jeremy nodded. “I know. I didn’t want to kill him, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You did exactly what you should have done,” Ed said. Ed hugged him close. “You’re a hero. Everybody here owes you their lives. Never forget that.”

  They broke their embrace and Jeremy spoke. “Do you remember when you used to tell us stories about St. Louis?”

  Ed did, vividly. Sitting around fires along desolate roadways, listening for the crack of a stick in the nearby woods, eating cold soup from cans. Holed up in abandoned houses, the former occupants often lying in the next room, their bodies desiccated and shriveled. Those stories about the city by the river kept them all going, their hopes up. “That didn’t work out so well in the end, did it?”

  “Hawaii will. I’m sure,” Jeremy said.

  Ed placed a hand on the boy’s head. “I hope so, buddy.”

  “Nobody could have known what would happen in St. Louis,” Zach added. “Not even you, Dad.”

  The words coming from Zach sounded so grown up. The people his boys had been when they set out from the border town a lifetime ago were almost gone now.

  “We’ll get there,” Trish said. “And we’ll do it together.”

  Ed smiled. He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “Together.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  There was no way Lester could have seen any of this coming, but that didn’t make him feel any better about things. He lay on his back on a hard floor, surrounded by darkness. The sounds of others filled the room, their coughs, their grunts and groans, their whispers.

  It was the cacophony of humanity and Lester hated that sound.

  Lying awake, he cursed himself for being too greedy. He’d wanted Chloe to be the perfect kill, to strike at the ideal moment. But he waited t
oo long. Once that short little prick with the rifle rounded them up it all ended. He’d never get Chloe alone now, no way. She’d never allow it, not with all these other people around.

  He wasn’t a prisoner, but that didn’t really help things. While he could leave, he didn’t want to, not without Chloe. He’d come too far now, invested too much time, too much energy. Lester wasn’t much of one to believe in destiny, but he did feel that a connection had been made. He needed to finish this, otherwise he’d never be able to forget about it.

  Lester considered his options as he stared into the darkness, trying to ignore the smell of the others in the room. He’d never be able to do things right if he tried to get Chloe alone in their new surroundings. Someone would catch them. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy himself with the threat of someone stepping in and breaking up the party. Like a teenager jerking off in his bedroom, door unlocked, hoping his parents didn’t barge in.

  No, he’d have to get her out of the building, away from prying eyes and nosey do-gooders. Only then would he be able to take his time, to allow her to fully realize her fate and give him that beautifully tragic look he lived for. That look of acceptance and resignation. If he couldn’t get that, there’d be no reason to do it at all.

  There had to be a way. They couldn’t watch all the time. Eventually he’d find his chance, provided he could remain patient.

  That was always the hardest part.

  Patience.

  * * *

  Lester barely slept through the night, his mind simply too wrapped up in thought about how to handle his most recent episode of bad luck. He spent a couple of hours contemplating, planning and executing those plans in his mind before sleep finally took him. He concocted multiple approaches he might use to ensure he could get Chloe alone and separated from the others, including Sam, who’d become more faithful than a golden retriever. Scenarios played out over and over again in his mind. He knew that when the opportunity presented itself he had to act without hesitation.