Go Loud (The Molting Book 4)

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Go Loud (The Molting Book 4) Page 3

by C A Gleason


  “Hey,” Henry said while listening. “Language. My granddaughter.”

  Salgado tsk-ed. “My bad. So sorry.”

  Heike was standing there listening. “I told you.”

  “Ah, you little turkey . . .”

  Doreen tittered, marched to Heike, and gently tugged on her purple coat. “Come on. Help me inside. We have more packing to do.”

  “Fine,” Heike said, clearly wanting more to be a part of what was going on outdoors but still went along obediently.

  “I’ve taken out quite a few nests myself,” Jonah said. “If they wake up . . .”

  “You mean when they’re all dog-piled on top of one another?” Salgado said. “I’m thinking out loud is all. It’s not like we can avoid them.”

  “There’s too many,” Henry said. “And we are too few. Unless one of you has a nuke in his back-pocket, we fight them when we have to.”

  “I agree,” Jonah said.

  “I suppose you’re both right,” Salgado said. “No sense we go looking for a fight we can’t win. But before we decide on how we’re going to get them or stay away or whatever, whichever we decide, anybody know who might have some extra guns stashed somewhere?”

  Jonah grinned. “Oh, I may know someone.”

  “That’s good, man. That’s real good.” Salgado twisted to see the ladies were inside. “Maybe Doreen had a point earlier. I mean, we’re just talking, you know, but let’s say we were dummies and stayed. The horde might actually pass us by.”

  “Or it could head directly here,” Henry said. “By accident or on purpose. We’re still learning about their behavior. Who knows?”

  “We could live here and just be ready to drive.”

  “The road,” Jonah said. “What if they head up it?” He thought maybe he should bring up all concerns. “Members of the Draw showed up here before. Something like that could happen again. And the likelihood of all of us together . . . is slim.”

  “Or they could end up in dang Russia.”

  “They’re already in Russia. We gotta remember they’re everywhere. Have to assume they’re worldwide until we’re certain otherwise.”

  They all seemed to agree because there was a moment of silence as they looked out in different directions.

  Philip and Nico were the only ones currently armed, but the rest of them could grab weapons quickly if there was any trouble.

  The cabin’s location was beautiful during the white of winter, but it was also quite the spectacle when the snow melted. There was so much green now.

  “So,” Salgado said awkwardly. “If we’re not staying, where the heck are we going?”

  Jonah gazed in the direction of the ridges, where he’d climbed to shoot and destroy Behemoth cocoons that were forming. The task would be necessary again soon if they remained much longer. He felt a pang at his core at the thought of the cabin no longer being considered home.

  They were going to leave. And likely never return.

  “There was a fortified area, where I was before,” Henry said. “But I haven’t been there since the Draw. We could see about going there.”

  “Where was that?” Jonah said.

  “Near the firing line.”

  “So, likely overrun.”

  “We could build another fortification.”

  “It’s not like fences keep them at bay.”

  “No,” Henry said, no doubt thinking back to Henrytown too, “but we could have spotters with eyes on the horde and could constantly deviate from their path. Find a place, build it up.”

  “How is that different than remaining here?”

  “You obviously have somewhere else in mind.”

  “While I was dealing with the Draw, I learned about a cruise ship.”

  Henry visibly mulled it over. “A ship, huh? If it’s at sea, it’s been in the water for a while. Wouldn’t we be avoiding what we’ll eventually have to deal with? I mean, we’ll have to settle somewhere.”

  “True. But getting away from here, this country, far away, seems like it’ll be safer.”

  “I think so too,” Salgado said. “But it’s human nature, isn’t it? Different always seems better.”

  “There’s degrees of danger throughout the world,” Henry said. “Former soldiers understand best.”

  “True,” Salgado said.

  Jonah agreed. There was a big difference between a war happening in the desert in the Middle East, and the sandy beaches where he found himself on months later in California.

  “I trust both of you and your judgment,” Henry said. “If you think it’s a solid plan, then I’ll support it.”

  “I’m still thinking about it,” Salgado said.

  Salgado turned toward Philip and Nico and opened his mouth—

  “Don’t call out,” Jonah said. “We’ll ask them what they think later.”

  “You just called out to ’em to see if they were hungry still. You might as well have rung the dinner bell. Asked Molters the same thing.”

  Jonah smiled. “My bad. Thanks.”

  Salgado socked his shoulder. “Just saying.”

  “I do want everyone to agree,” Jonah said. “We’re still alive so there’s a lot of wise minds among us. I don’t even include myself.”

  “You should,” Henry said. “This is no time for modesty.”

  “My point is, I’m not the primary decision maker anymore.”

  “I get it. We must think how our decisions will affect the group. And those who will soon join us.”

  A buzz grew in Jonah’s stomach thinking of other survivors. Maybe even people he knew from Henrytown.

  CHAPTER 7

  Often the subconscious has all the building blocks for answers but is assembled out of order.

  Jonah suspected the terrible dream about Molters and the ocean of blood—he still remembered the nightmare vividly, and thought about it often, even though it was months ago—allowed him to come to certain conclusions.

  Even though, ironically, in the dream it was the opposite and the large body of water was brimming with creatures, seas and oceans and smaller bodies of water must be free of the Molter threat. They had to be.

  Although he’d never completely dissected one, it wasn’t as if Molters evolved gills. Molters were land-based predators so it made sense for humans to go to open water to be safe. And once on the water, there might be a path to a safer place to settle.

  Jonah knew it was human nature to believe somewhere else or something different was better than present circumstances, as Salgado mentioned, but he was confident this time. Jonah had been wrong in the past, and admitted so, but he’d never been too far off.

  Even though he was no longer in the military, one of its strengths was teamwork, a tool he’d kept in his toolbox, applicable right now, so he could bounce his ideas off the others. He didn’t have to make all the decisions.

  A benefit of no longer wearing a uniform was that there wasn’t a requirement for one person to be in charge according to rank. Any of them could be the leader, and former soldiers were used to following orders, making it easier for anyone to give commands.

  Jonah was a grunt and always would be. He was when he had served, considered himself to be one even when he’d been in charge, so he was always ready to follow orders too; especially someone with a better plan than his own.

  But unless someone came up with a better idea, Jonah would continue to follow the best plan of action, and right now he was coming up with the best of them.

  “Archard’s firing line was overwhelmed, practically destroyed,” Jonah said. “It was obvious, even with my limited viewpoint from the cell where I was imprisoned.”

  “I hated seeing you in there, man,” Salgado said. “You didn’t belong. Like seeing a caged tiger. I was so glad to get you out.”

  “Thanks again.”

  “Shoot, I don’t mean to make it about me. You don’t have to thank me about it again. I was just remembering.”

  “OK I won’t. But know how much I
appreciate you guys getting me back to my family.”

  “Ain’t nothing.”

  “Even if hundreds of people join us, which isn’t likely to happen, we still won’t be able to take advantage of all of the weapons left there because the place was overwhelmed. If the horde rears its ugly head in this direction, remaining here is suicide.”

  “OK,” Salgado said. “Agreed.”

  “So, where’s the cruise ship?” Henry said. “We would need to know its precise location.”

  Jonah shrugged. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure. Perry wouldn’t tell me. But cruise ships dock north. I remember hearing it from fellow soldiers when I was stationed here.”

  “You were stationed at this cabin?” Salgado said.

  “No, not here-here, here in . . .” Jonah almost finished by saying Germany. But grinned instead. “Good one.”

  “I’m messing with you, homie. In all seriousness, you been there, right?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, OK.”

  “You?”

  “No, me neither.”

  Henry’s eyes bore a hole in the ground, still deciding whether it was a good idea or not. “North.”

  “Yeah,” Jonah said. “First port we come to at the North Sea. I think it’s our best route.”

  Hopefully wherever they ended up going, maybe living, would be as fortified an area as Jonah imagined.

  But he shouldn’t—and wouldn’t—get ahead of himself.

  Henry glanced up, still looking down at them because of his six-foot five-inch height. “Then that’s where we’ll go. We’ll get everyone together and figure out a path.”

  Salgado cleared his throat. “Actual roads hopefully. Streets. Paved. Autobahn.”

  “I hear you,” Jonah said. “First things first, though. How many e-tools are there in those UVs?”

  “A bunch,” Salgado said.

  “Hang on. I gotta grab something.”

  Jonah darted into the cabin to retrieve his hand-drawn map. The real one.

  “How’s it going in here?”

  Doreen added to a pile of their belongings. “Nice to have a little more time.”

  Jonah thought so too. He could hear Heike busily condensing belongings in her room however Doreen had instructed her to.

  “I’m going to take what we need and do my best to erase we ever lived here,” Doreen said. “In case we encounter bad people again.”

  Jonah still hadn’t told her what had happened while he was away. Him being abducted, surviving the Draw, any of it.

  But Doreen grasped enough without knowing details. He would explain in time, if she asked. For now, he could trust her to do the right thing in here.

  He went over, kissed her, and hustled back out.

  “Over here,” Jonah said, placing the hand-drawn map on the picnic table.

  They crowded around, including Nico and Philip. Nico still hadn’t taken off his scarf or goggles. Jonah decided he didn’t mind his secrecy because it was none of his business. Nico accepted his role as a guard, and as a soldier in this war. It was all that mattered.

  “Got the idea from you, Henry,” Jonah said. “When you gave us the map to get here while we were in Henrytown.”

  Henry nodded approvingly. “What are we digging for?”

  “Weapons and ammo. I—We’ve got lots of both.”

  “You have copies of the map?”

  “Sure do.”

  “Easy for you to follow, but how will others know the way back?”

  “We have radios.”

  “Yes, but it will be slow going if anybody gets lost. And we have only so much time before they arrive. Of course, we can’t know when or if it will happen but . . . wise to assume it will be sooner than expected. And even if it doesn’t happen and we never see one of those bloodsucking bastards again, we should still think we will.”

  “Totally agree.” Jonah tried to think of anything else to assist them. “I have a flare gun.”

  “How many flare guns do you have?”

  “One.”

  Henry tilted his head with uncertainty. Henry was right. There must be a better way to keep them on track. Again, Jonah gave it some consideration.

  Then it came to him.

  “Got it!” He went and unlocked the cellar and came back with a box, a fraction of the total. “I have thousands of these.” He opened the box and took out a chem light. “Passengers can throw them out the window at intervals and follow the glow back.”

  “All right, now there’s a plan,” Henry said.

  Salgado took a few steps toward the open door of the cellar. “What else you got in there?”

  Jonah grinned. “You’ll approve.”

  Salgado rubbed his hands together excitedly.

  “Nico, it’s time. Hand me the mic,” Henry said. “You know the frequency.”

  Nico opened the passenger door to the UV, leaned in to the radio, adjusted the frequency, grabbed the mic, and stretched the black cord out to Henry.

  “While we’re digging, I’m going to have everyone meet us here.” Henry winked at Jonah, thumbing the mic. “Sven, do you copy?”

  CHAPTER 8

  “What they kick you out for?” Salgado said.

  Jonah cringed. “I did a fellow soldier a favor.”

  “Man, they don’t kick you out of the military for doing people favors.”

  “Well, it’s the kind of favor.”

  “What kind of favor you do for a battle buddy that gets you kicked out?”

  “He was less a battle buddy and more of a loser. I sold what he was carrying.”

  “Guns?”

  “No, no. Drugs.”

  “You did drugs?”

  “Yeah. I did them too.”

  “So, it was just for selling them?”

  “No. I pissed hot too.”

  “You dummy.”

  “I know. Probably saved my life though.”

  “Oh, it definitely did. You probably would have got killed fighting the first wave like everyone else. It’s crazy how fucked-up shit can help you later on.”

  “True. And you only know that when you live long enough.”

  “If you live long enough. I’m so glad I was stationed here in Germany too.”

  Chatting helped pass the time as they drove, and Salgado was genuinely curious, which Jonah appreciated. Even if it stung a little to talk about.

  “Now I bet you’re one of these cats who don’t do nothing. No drugs, no booze, no cigarettes, no coffee—”

  “Whoa, slow down. Coffee is paramount to my existence. Even if it’s stale, which it often is if it’s already ground, I love it. Without it, I’d reinvent it. Somehow.”

  “Oh, OK. That don’t make no sense, but I get it. I think. You must have a grinder?”

  “Sure do.”

  “Booze was my vice. Didn’t get me kicked out, though. Maybe it would have eventually. Hey, speaking of slowing down, how about you pick up some speed? Driving like an old man. In fact, how about you let me drive? I’ll get us there quick.”

  “You don’t even know where we’re going. And you talk too much. You’ll drive us off the road.”

  “Pfft. Whatever.”

  At the dig site—one too many, according to Salgado—and the last of them before heading back to the cabin, Jonah alluded to what had happened to his friends; Eric, Gil, Daisy, Sharon, and Danielle, and was busy explaining some theories.

  Salgado stopped digging from the other side of the hole and held up a hand. He was out of breath.

  Jonah kept on shoveling away more dirt. “What?”

  “Do I really have to listen to this?”

  Jonah stopped digging as well, holding the e-tool at waist height. “What?”

  Salgado shook his head sympathetically. “I’m sure you’ve thought about them enough. Do you really want to talk about them, too?” Before Jonah could respond, he continued, “I don’t need to know why they do the terrible things they do. I don’t give a fuck about them. I avoid them
or I kill them. You know what I’m saying?”

  Jonah waited to see if he’d be interrupted. “Sure.”

  “And you get down too easy. Let all this stuff get to you. Molters weren’t your fault. What happened to your buddies wasn’t your fault either. You need to stay motivated, homie.”

  Jonah resumed digging as fast as possible, as he also mentioned to Salgado he hadn’t been depressed in a long time. Too busy to be. It was a way to talk to someone else about it other than Doreen, also a way to see how normal he was.

  But mentioning something in the past was often the first someone heard about it, so their present. Salgado, being a man, a former soldier as Jonah was, and a fast friend, definitely didn’t hold back with his honesty.

  Salgado read Jonah’s mind. “Look, I get sad sometimes. Sure, I do. I got lots of stuff to say too, but I mostly keep it to myself because I don’t want to burden anybody.”

  “You’re saying keep it to myself? Keep things inside?”

  Salgado cocked his head. “Come on, dude. You know what I mean. Talk if you have to, but don’t dwell. It ain’t good for you. Go for a walk. Go for a run—”

  “I do.”

  “What?”

  “Go for a run.”

  “Around the cabin?”

  “Yeah. But not lately.”

  “Of course not. Too busy dodging monsters and bullets shot from crazies. How far?”

  “I figured out a mile path.”

  “About how many laps you do?”

  “Consistently?”

  “Yeah.”

  “About three.”

  “When was the last time you went for a run?”

  Jonah thought about it. “I don’t remember.”

  “That’s too long. Once we get to where we’re going, we’ll go on a run together.”

  “It’ll probably be a jog. I haven’t truly run in a while.”

  “Look how fat I am. I know how it goes. But saying we’re going for a run sounds cooler than going for a jog.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Word. So, as I was saying, unless it’s worth bringing up because it’s serious, I’d rather say something funny.”

 

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