by Riley Flynn
Another corner came and went. No sign of the car. The shouting crowds were getting closer. They were spreading out. All around him, Alex could hear the people giving chase. Their voices railed with anger. Levine, either his words or his death, had whipped them up into a fury.
Arriving on another street, Alex looked it up and down. He’d taken so many turns, he didn’t know where he was any more. But there it was. The car. Every muscle in his leg protested as he ran even faster toward it.
The shouts were close now. A street away. Maybe two if he was lucky. Alex ripped the door open and laid the baby on the front seat with the rifle next to her. There wasn’t any special chair or equipment. He’d have to make do.
A man shouted. Not words, just a blood-curdling screech. By the time Alex looked up, the man was already running toward him, a flaming torch in his hand.
Alex reached inside the car and grabbed hold of the shotgun. He yanked it free, pulling it out and stepping back at the same time. The man was almost on him. The finger tugged on the trigger.
The blast forced Alex to step back. As he staggered and regained his step, he looked up. The light had gone out, extinguished as it fell on the snow. The spread of the shotgun pellets had chewed a hole in the man’s chest.
There was no time for Alex to stop and admire his handiwork. He jumped into the car, turned the key in the ignition and pulled the baby on to his lap. The safety belt stretched across both of them. She didn’t like the way it tugged into her belly.
“Sorry,” Alex tried a soothing voice in her ear. “We don’t have any other choice.”
She cried anyway.
Alex brushed the snow from the window. The engine was warming up. He tried the headlights. They lit up the road ahead. Rolling down the window, he hung the shotgun outside, ready to fire.
The car pulled out onto the street. Alex accelerated, pushing past the speed limit. The road was invisible, covered in snow. All he had was guesswork. Keep the speed down, he thought, you don’t want to skid off and crash. He had to protect the baby at all costs. So much had already been sacrificed.
It wasn’t much of a choice. Every fiber of his being told him he needed to go faster. Faster, faster, faster. They had to get out of Athena.
Taking another corner, Alex felt the wheels skid on the road. No chains on these wheels. No grip at all.
But the streets looked familiar. Alex was reaching the edge of town, he knew it. Passing by in the night, the empty rows of houses lined every street. Painted white crosses on the doors. Everything inside stolen to burn on the great fires.
Sammy’s house was somewhere around here. Even for just a fleeting second, he had expected the gut-churning weight of the past to hit him as the thought crossed his mind. But it didn’t. There was nothing. A moment of serenity, discovered amid a storm of fear. Right then, Alex knew he had to get home.
Every turn, Alex checked his mirror, expecting to see a convoy of believers chasing him down. But they didn’t come. Either they didn’t have any cars themselves or they’d all given up. He kept the shotgun hanging out the window, just in case. Once he hit the town limits, once he made it back to the farm, Alex could rest easy. It was all looking good.
Taking the final exit, about to hit the road right back to the farm, Alex had to slam on the brakes.
The road was blocked.
A column of five of Levine’s people were dragging a fence across the road, blocking him in. Cutting him off at the pass. Strips of metal palisade, unfurled like police tape around a crime scene. The believers were dragging it into the center of the road.
The little girl had stopped crying. Alex could feel her fingers trying to grab hold of the zipper on the front of his jacket. She was awake.
Alex looked down. Two big blue eyes stared back up at him.
The barrier ahead was in place. The people stood before it. They knew they had him trapped. Alex revved his engine. He knew what he had to do. It was just like when he’d liberated the motorcycles with Timmy back in Detroit. Knock down the flimsy wall. Set yourself free. Escape.
Movement in the rear-view mirror caught his eye. People were approaching behind him. They had him trapped. Alex looked down at the little girl again.
“Hold on tight,” he told her. “This one might hurt.”
The pedal hit the floor and the engine roared. The car lurched forward, finding its gears and working up through them like an opera singer through the scales.
With one hand, Alex steered. With the other, he fired the shotgun forwards, aiming at nothing in particular. It was enough to make the believers duck.
Alex threw the shotgun out and pulled his hand back inside, holding the baby. He could see the believers. One of them tried to jump out of the way of the car. Too late. The thud of flesh on bodywork felt satisfying and the left headlight flickered and died.
Then they hit the fence.
Metal squealed, flat panels of palisade flew up across the hood and hit against the windshield. It cracked but didn’t break. The car didn’t stop. It plowed through.
On the other side, the road opened up. Alex held the baby tight, trying to keep her warm.
He drove. As fast as he could, he drove. Back to the farm. The battle had only just begun.
28
I should have shot him there and then.
Alex drove back to the farm with the baby on his lap and with a head full of regrets.
I should have shot Levine. I should have ended it all.
Ever after he’d stolen the baby back from the bad guy, Alex felt guilty. It was infuriating, he thought. Now, more than ever, he should feel good. He’d done the right thing. He’d pulled it off. But even as the car hurtled through the night toward home, skidding occasionally on the snow, Alex knew it wasn’t over. Krol had been killed, had sacrificed himself for the baby.
And for me.
The thought bothered Alex. He’d spent so long hating Krol, it was hard to equate the laughing man who’d blown himself up with the stern overseer he’d met on the farm.
Soon, he’d have to tell the others what had happened. They wouldn’t be happy. They were Krol’s people. They didn’t like Alex. They didn’t trust him.
But he had the baby. That was the important part. The little girl with no name. She slept, clinging to his chest. Barely a few months old and born into all this. What kind of world was this kid going to know? Plagues and death cults, gun fights and sacrifice.
“You don’t know what you’ve got ahead of you,” Alex said into her head, trying to focus on the road, trying not to think about the kind of world the little girl was going to grow up into.
The beams from the headlines only lit up so far. The snow was really falling now, swirling around and around, resting on the road. No chains on the tires, no training: Alex wasn’t the best driver and now he had a precious cargo on board that he needed to protect.
But he couldn’t slow down.
The car entered the final stretch, the long road around the farm with the exit up the snaking track. Alex turned the wheel and pointed them toward home.
The farm and all the other buildings were dark. After the bonfires in Athena, the lack of light felt right. It felt welcoming. A good place to hide.
That was a lie. Levine knew where he’d be heading. He would have to come after them. A man like that, an ego like that, would never let anything rest. The preacher would be back for the baby. He wouldn’t let anything stand in his way.
As Alex drove up the dirt track, he spotted the old oak tree on the bend. That was where he’d told Timmy to bury Cam. The death hit him all over again. But there was no time to mourn the dead.
By morning, he knew, Cam wouldn’t be alone. A storm was coming.
Expecting to see Timmy waist deep in the ground, he slowed down. Opening the window, he leaned out and shouted.
“Timmy?”
A shovel-full of dirt flew through the air. Someone was digging.
“Alex?”
He recognized tha
t voice.
“Nelson?”
“Yeah. You’re back?” There was an excitement in the voice, just about audible between heavy breathes.
Nelson crawled out of the grave. Beside the hole in the ground, a body was swaddled in cloth. It had to be Cam.
“Where’s Timmy?”
“I told him I had this. He’s back at the house, helping out. Where’s Krol?”
Leaning out the window, Alex didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t how he’d planned this conversation. The wrong man was burying Cam. But maybe, he realized, he wasn’t the wrong man at all. Nelson recognized the silence.
“How’d he go?”
Alex cut the engine and laid a hand across the baby. He could feel his perception of Nelson changing by the moment, slowly understanding that this was a good man, not the kind of enemy he’d created in his head. It was quiet out by the oak tree.
“Sacrificed himself. So that we could escape. He went out like a hero.”
Nelson leaned heavily on his shovel, staring into the dirt.
“They’re coming, Nelson. We didn’t finish the job. They’re coming now.”
“I know. I know. I just wish… I wish we had more time.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
“Jamie was leading them in something. Showing them stuff. I don’t know. Back at the house?”
The farm was fifty feet away.
“Okay.” Alex started to get out of the car, taking the baby in one hand and the rifle in the other. “I’m going back. I need to get her home. When you’re done, bring this car up. We’ve got a lot that needs to be done.”
Nelson nodded and jumped back into the ground. As he was about to plant the shovel again, he stopped and turned to Alex.
“He was a great man.”
Does he mean Krol or Cam? It didn’t really matter.
“We’ve lost a lot of people. Good people. Let’s not lose more tonight.”
“We’ll try.”
The flat edge of the shovel hit hard into the ground. The only sound in the snow-filled field. The dirt moved through the air with a whisper. It wouldn’t be the last grave they made on the farm, Alex knew.
Alex bowed his head to Cam’s body and turned and made for the farm. He clutched the little girl to his chest, still wrapped up in the baptismal blankets. She shivered and he held her tighter. It wasn’t far to walk but he hurried anyway. Time was running out.
The snow had started to pile up around Alex’s sneakers. It was getting harder and harder to walk outside. Stamping his feet on the porch, shaking away the sleet, he was amazed that the baby didn’t wake up. She seemed to be able to sleep through anything.
Still, Alex tried to be as quiet as possible as he entered the house. There was no need to alert people, no need to have all the conversations which needed to be had. First, he had to get a little girl back to her mother.
But he could still overhear the meeting which was happening in the kitchen. Everyone seemed to be gathered in there. Jamie was speaking and, as Alex walked along the hallway and stood outside the room, he could see Timmy, Reni, and Jenna.
Christ, he thought to himself, we’re all that’s left. Six of us, plus Joan and the baby.
“Which is why,” Jamie was explaining to the others, “we have to beat it. There’s nothing left here. They’re gone. We need to do the same and–”
The talking stopped as Alex stepped into the kitchen. Every eye turned to him and the baby.
They all started asking questions at once. Alex held up a hand and put a finger to his lips. He pointed at the baby. It seemed to work. The room fell quiet.
“I’m going upstairs.” Alex talked softly, addressing all four people in the room. “I’ll be back.”
With that, he walked through the kitchen and didn’t stop until he had climbed the stairs and stood outside Joan’s room. He knocked and entered.
Joan was sitting up in bed. Her face was a mess of red skin and tears, a collection of bruising spreading across her skin and joining together. Beside her, still guarding the room, Finn lay with his head on his paws. The window was closed now and a new candle lit.
As Alex entered, she didn’t even look up.
“Joan.” A calm word. “I’ve got someone who wants to see you.”
Slowly, her head turned. Alex could hear footsteps outside. He had been followed. Laying his gun on a chest of drawers, he bent down to see his friend.
“Here,” he said, handing across the little girl. “She slept all the way home.”
Taking the baby in her arms, Joan turned to look at Alex. Her eyes were wide and welling up with tears. She tried to speak but nothing came so she clutched the child to her chest.
“Don’t say anything.” Alex patted his friend on the shoulder and felt the dog licking at his hand. “You stay here. Rest. We’re going to make sure everything is fine.”
Alex didn’t want to linger. He wasn’t sure he could take another second of Joan looking at him as though he was a ghost. The weight of emotion was too much. If he stopped and thought about it for a moment, it might break him into a million pieces. Instead, he collected his rifle and exited the room.
Timmy and everyone else was standing on the stairs, watching the door.
“Alex, man–”
Rather than speak, Alex just pointed down. They understood. Quiet feet began to descend the stairs and they retreated to the farmhouse kitchen.
The oil drum, cut in half, was home to a small fire. It lit up the room, kept it warm. Alex went and stood beside the flames, throwing on another log. The makeshift chimney stole away the smoke and smuggled it out into the night.
“It’s cold out there.” Alex couldn’t think of much to say. Everyone was waiting for him to speak.
They didn’t have long. The short version of events would have to do. Krol. Levine. The baby. Who lived and who died. The devil really was in the details.
“They’re coming.” Alex finished his story, standing in front of the fire. “We have to be ready.”
No one had talked. They’d all sat and listened. Jenna, still just a teenager, looked as though she was about to cry. Reni and Timmy sat open mouthed, their expressions becoming steadily more panicked. Only Jamie looked away, a scowl on her face.
“What do we have that can keep them away?” Alex had been thinking about defenses during the journey but he had no idea what tools were available.
“All the guns.” Timmy returned to his favorite topic. “Plenty of guns.”
“We’ve got tools, too. And the house.” Reni was looking around the room. “We just have to board up the windows.”
“There’s wood in the sheds,” Jenna stood up. “And a barrel of gasoline in the stables. Got the cars, too.”
“Yeah, we can use them to block the road.” Reni joined her friend. “We can boil water. Heat it up and throw–”
“I can’t believe you’re actually listening to this nonsense.” Jamie had stayed sitting, her one arm holding her shaking head.
“What, Jamie? What’s wrong?” Jenna sat back down again.
“Him.” Jamie looked up at Alex. “Krol vanishes and this idiot turns up and we’re… we’re just supposed to believe him?”
Alex knew he didn’t have time to argue. Either Levine’s men were a minute away or an hour away or a day away. They had no way of knowing. They had to make every second count.
“We don’t have time for this,” he said, ignoring Jamie. “Nelson is outside, working. I’ll go help him finish. I want you, Jenna, to gather the guns. Timmy, you and Reni–”
“You’re not in charge!” Jamie was standing and shouting. “No one put you in charge! Krol might have given you all the freedom in the world, but look where it got him!”
“Hey, he’s got a plan.” Timmy turned to Jamie, matching her volume. “What have you got?”
“I’ve got a plan,” she said. “We get the hell out of Dodge.”
“What, in this weather? With a baby? And with the whole chur
ch at our back?” Reni took a softer tone.
“Doesn’t matter. Better than dying in this hellhole.”
“This hellhole,” Alex began, “is my house. And I plan on defending it.”
“Suicide.”
“Maybe,” Alex agreed. “But, at some point, you just have to make a stand.”
“See!” Jamie waved an imploring hand to the others. “He even admits it. Stay here and we’re as good as dead.”
“Flee now and we’re dead, too.” Timmy shook his head. “Least this way, we’re not cowards.”
“It’s not a question of cowardice, you fool.” Jamie didn’t even look at Timmy. “It’s called common sense. Krol would know.”
“Krol died trying to save a child,” Alex didn’t raise his voice. “I’m not going to let him die in vain.”
“You hated him! How do we know you didn’t kill him yourself? You’re probably in with Levine yourself. You always hated him!”
“And you hate me, Jamie. Does that mean you’re trying to kill me?”
“Shut the hell up!” Jamie threw a punch.
Alex saw it coming but didn’t have time to dodge. The blow caught him square in the jaw, knocking him back. He stumbled, rubbing a hand against his face. But he didn’t fight back. This wasn’t the time for disharmony. Besides, he thought as the pain spread through his face, he might have deserved it.
“I don’t have time for this, Jamie.” Alex tried to keep calm. “None of us do. I’m not lying to you. You don’t have to like me. You don’t have to help. But you’ve got to let us try.”
“He’s right, Jamie.” Reni spoke and Jenna nodded along. “We all knew it was coming to a head. It was always going to end like this. Even Krol–”
“Don’t say his name!” Jamie shouted at Reni, pushing her on the shoulder. “Don’t you dare say his name!”
A tear rolled down Jamie’s cheek. She sat down again, facing away from the other people in the room.
There were no clocks in the kitchen, Alex knew. No way of telling time, exactly. But the candles were shortening. The log he’d thrown on the fire was charred, turning to ash. Every second counted and they didn’t have much time. He had to do something. He had to act.