The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side

by A. S. Thompson

  He extended a polite hand, but Steve left the formal introduction hanging.

  "Very well. We don’t have to be friends, but can you at least put down your hands and stop looking like you want to brawl? We’re not going to hurt you, I promise.”

  Steve’s left hand guarded his face like a boxer, while his right fist hadn’t moved from its cocked position.

  As a preemptive response, TJ readied his pointy weapon, while Becca removed the Katana blade from her backside.

  “As you can see, you’re making my friends very nervous, and they don’t like anxiety.”

  No way you can get to the gun now, Steve-O. You’re gonna have to go with this one.

  Steve lowered his fists but kept the attitude. “Do I get my answers now?”

  Clark smiled. “Such command presence. I can see where you got it from.”

  Unsure of how to take the comment, Steve remained silent.

  Clark finished his coffee, then picked up the belt holster, and clamped it around his waist. “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to come with me, Steve,” he said, moving out the side door but stopped when Steve didn’t follow. “You can trust me. I am sure your head is full of questions, and I intend to have them answered for you. If you follow me outside, you can get all of your answers and some, I promise.”

  Hesitant, Steve followed Clark outside the sliding glass door. The metal sliders remained intact, but the broken glass had been knocked away and replaced by a heavy blanket that was nailed to the top studs.

  This was where Uncle John crashed through, Steve thought, remembering when Tom was forced to kill his uncle with a fire poker.

  “Might want to cover your eyes,” Clark said, pulling the flap.

  The warning went unheeded and instantly regretted. Bright sunlight blinded Steve as he followed Clark outside. They took the concrete path that led around the pool to a patio which overlooked the valley.

  On the right, wooden crosses filled the grass, but Steve was more focused on a chair swing to the left and the people sitting on it.

  Alex? Lisa? he thought, but before he could call out, someone else did.

  “Steve?”

  It was Jenny, returning from the garden. She dropped a handful of flowers and ran toward him, yelling, “Steve! Guys, it’s Steve! He's awake!”

  Jenny's body crashed into Steve's. She gave him the hardest, tightest hug she could.

  “I'm so glad you're finally awake! We were so scared!”

  “What do you mean?" he asked as Jenny finally released her arms. "How many hours have I been out for?”

  “Hours?” Alex answered, walking over with a limp of his own. “Try days.”

  “I've been sleeping for days?”

  “More like in a coma for five days,” corrected Lisa.

  “Man are we happy to see you, cuz,” Alex said, hugging him after Lisa.

  “One sec,” Clark called back to TJ and Becca who were standing near the kitchen window. “You’ll have to excuse me for a moment, but I'll be right back.”

  Steve waited until Clark left and then asked, “I’ve been in a coma?”

  “Ya, bro. At first we thought you were just knocked out, but then days passed and you still didn't wake up.”

  “What happened? I remember the crash, kinda.”

  “It was horrible,” Jenny said; her bright-smiling teenage face turned somber. “I remember it all.”

  Lisa looked at Alex and knew what he was thinking. “Hey Jenny, can you come over here with me for a second?”

  "But I want to stay with Steve."

  "I know you do, but let's give him and Alex a minute to talk."

  "Okay," she said, walking away with Lisa, but not before giving Steve’s midsection another tight squeeze.

  “So what happened?”

  “Like Jenny said, it was pretty damn bad.”

  “I remember the drone, the rocket hitting, and crashing, but everything is really hazy.”

  “Where to begin?” Alex said, scratching his short beard. “Well, you know about the drone and us getting hit. It was the loudest thing I’ve ever heard. Boom! I don't think anyone saw it coming. You least of all. I remember looking at you exactly when the rocket hit us. I saw you hit the wall and for a second I thought you were going to get sucked out like those Marines."

  "I remember the hole that rocket made," Steve mumbled.

  "Ya, it was gnarly, straight up craziness, bro. You were all dizzy but awake. You tried to stand up, which was the worst idea ever. You would for sure have been sucked out. Luckily that Marine Fikejs jumped on you. He got you buckled in just in time."

  "Before we crashed."

  "Yup. I never thought I'd say this, but Jones was a damn hero. That racist prick saved all our asses. I don't know how he did it, but he managed to land us belly down on one of the back roads the Park Rangers use. Wings must have smashed through a thousand trees, but the plane finally stopped. Those of us who could, pulled people out.”

  “Who didn't make it?”

  Alex ran a hand through his oily hair. “Surprisingly, just four. Those Marines, Case and Ringo, like I said they got sucked out. There was another Marine, never got his name, but his stomach got sliced open when we crashed. He died on our way here.”

  “And the fourth?”

  “Jones.”

  “Jones?”

  “Ya, he took a tree from the chest up. It was bad, even for my horror-movie standards,” Alex said, body shivering as he recollected the image. “For how much of an asshole he was, Jones ended up being decent guy.”

  “What about the others in the crash?”

  “Short answer? As you can see, my leg’s tweaked and my spine’s out of alignment, but I’m alive. Lisa, Jenny and Charlie are alright, bumps and bruises. Dylan’s a little worse for the wear, but alive. Matty walked away with a concussion and a broken hand. Eddy’s leg was fine, but he broke his other ankle so he has been completely immobile. Shanna fractured her wrist. Travis, that bastard walked away without so much as a cut. Being in the front, West got a little messed up from shattered glass and branches, but most of his injuries have probably scabbed over by now. Is that it? Oh, and the rest of the Marines had cuts, some broken bones, but mostly just whiplash, concussions, bruises, and seatbelt burn.”

  “Wow,” Steve said, looking around at the backyard as he digested the information. “But how did we get here?”

  “The town heard an explosion,” Clark answered, returning undetected. “But it was one of our scouts who spotted the plane.”

  "Air Force Two. That’s the boom they heard.”

  "Exactly, Alex. We sent out a search party and on our way, we saw your plane go down and followed your crash path until we found you."

  "They brought us back here. To Fullertown.”

  “Where is everyone else?”

  “In town,” Clark said, pointing to the bustling community below.

  “I know you still have a lot of questions. If you would like to join me for a drive, I’ll try to answer as many as I can.”

  Steve finally extended his hand. “Thank you very much for all your help, Clark.”

  “It was the least we could do. Shall we?”

  “Brace yourself, cuz. You're gonna trip out. This place is unreal.”

  ***

  Clark led Steve, Alex, Jenny and Lisa through the house, into the garage.

  "Steve-O, check this out," Alex said hustling ahead.

  He lifted off the cover of one of Tom Brason's most cherished possessions.

  “Dad’s T-bird?” Steve said, dragging his fingertips over the white paint. “Looks just as pristine as when we left!”

  Alex hopped over the driver door of the 1955 Thunderbird and landed gracefully in the front seat. "Modified engine, five speed manual transmission, 4:11 gearing on the rear end…We totally gotta take this for a spin!"

  "Dibs on driving first!"

  "Shit! I shoulda known better.”

  "Wait, it still has gas?"

&nbs
p; "Some," Clark replied, though everything about his response indicated more to be told. "Come on, we should get going. We are already running late.”

  “We aren’t taking this?”

  “No, Steve, we are taking that,” Clark said, pointing to the vehicle parked in the driveway.

  The pickup truck Clark led the group toward was anything but normal. There were many modifications, starting with the hood being removed. In its place were new components, compartments and housings that Steve didn't recognize or understand the purpose of.

  Alex opened the back door for Lisa and Jenny, and then hopped in the truck bed.

  “I guess this is a good place to start,” Clark began to say but waited until Steve labored himself onto the front passenger seat. “Like many things here, this truck runs off of wood gasification.”

  “They use wood to get power!” interjected Jenny. “I've never seen anything like that!”

  “Neither have I.”

  “It's nothing new,” Clark continued as he backed into the cul-de-sac. “We in first-world countries just never had a use for this type of power system. But after our electrical grid went down, we were on our own. Generators were great, but those only lasted as long as the gas we had. After the first couple of months, one of the city engineers started building these. He had made one before. It took a few test runs, but eventually he worked out the kinks. Then production rolled out. It essentially heats wood to get a combustible gas from it, condenses that gas and uses that as a fuel source. Anything in town that has power, most likely runs off one of these. Good thing we are surrounded by forests.”

  Steve looked across Clark into the center of Fullertown. While the structures were the same, nothing was like he remembered. “How is this possible? We've never seen any place function even remotely close to this.”

  “Simple. Had it not been for your dad, none of this would be possible.”

  “My dad?”

  “Yes.” Clark cleared his throat then continued. “When the outbreak hit here, I imagine it was like everywhere else. Pure chaos. People ran around crazy. It was almost impossible to tell if someone was infected until it was too close and too late...I had just moved in down the street from you guys and was busy organizing the house. When I heard the gunshots near your dad’s place I peeked my head out the window. I saw people attacking others on the street and biting them, and not long after I saw this RV drive by..."

  Steve turned around and looked through the back window at Alex.

  “Yup, that was us."

  "I found that out later,” Clark continued. “Anyway, I ran out after you guys, hoping I could figure out what was going on, but you weren't stopping for anyone. So I found myself outside all alone. Then I looked over to your house and saw this man running around wild and crazy. I thought he was one ofthem at first, then I realized he moved with purpose. It's kind of hard to explain.”

  "Dad," Steve mumbled, staring blankly at the dashboard.

  “Yes, your father, Tom. Anyway, two of those things spotted me and chased me into my house. They broke through my dining room windows and almost got me. I don't know how or where he came from, but Tom burst in and saved me.”

  "He did say he was going to stay behind and see if he could save anyone else," Steve recalled.

  "Good thing for that, otherwise, well, you know.”

  "So what happened after that?"

  "Tom handed me a gun and told me to come with him. I had no idea what was going on, but my gut told me to stick with him. We hopped in his Denali, and went down this same hill we’re on now. I followed Tom as he went from house to house, rescuing people and killing those things. With each person we rescued, they joined us as we pressed forward. We formed this pack that grew and grew. Tom barked out orders and all the right ones. It was like he had done this before."

  “He was a Marine.”

  “I know, he told me before I,” Clark started to say before stopping whatever story was about to come. “Anyway, we finally took back the city. Those twenty-four hours were the longest of my life. There were scattered threats but for the most part we had it under control. But Tom didn't stop there. He was on a mission, determined to keep moving, especially after we heard the news reports of cities falling to those infected things. 'We need to establish and maintain a defensive perimeter. That is our primary objective now' is how Tom said it.”

  Steve smiled sadly. “Sounds like Dad.”

  “Tom put everyone on different tasks,” Clark said, pointing ahead as he turned left at the bottom of the hill. “He told some of us to go to the diesel station and use shipping containers to block the roads coming into town. Others he told to use the fencing from the construction downtown to help fortify the perimeter. The best shooters were put on rotating guard shifts. Everyone had a purpose. Everyone listened without hesitation. Tom knew exactly what he was doing. I didn’t know one man could organize so much in so little time, but he did, and flawlessly. He laid out additional duties, food and water collection and management, using the high school gym as a home base and triage center. He had everything under control. He even drafted the plans that led to our perimeter and a safe zone. The townspeople pooled together their resources, but let’s be honest, your dad's house contributed by far the most."

  "Let me guess, he showed you the garage," Steve said, chuckling. "Mike and I used to joke that he wasn't at war anymore."

  "Not just guns and ammo. There was outdoor equipment, camping supplies, so much stuff I can't even remember how many trips it took us to take down. Like I said, if it wasn't for your dad, Fullertown would be like the other cities on the news.”

  Steve listened but was distracted by the prosperous community. He thought Camp had a nice setup, but the residents of Fullertown meandered down Main Street as though life was back to normal. People were coming in and out of businesses, strolling with pets along the sidewalk. Mechanics were working on vehicles, diners were open, and laundry was being done.

  “You're telling me, my dad saved all these people?”

  Clark shrugged. “Directly or indirectly. Over the past year, we have had our share of wanderers. We take in everyone as long as they are willing to work hard and do their part. If they compromise our town or don't want to work, we send them packing. Fortunately, I've only been forced to do that twice.”

  "This place is unreal."

  "Told you, cuz."

  “We are completely self-sustaining. Water is collected from rain and local rivers. We filter it all and reuse it. Plumbing is, well let's just call it dirty, but it works. Power I already told you about. We charge our batteries with these gassifiers. We try to use horses from Mrs. Able’s farm when we can. We have beehives that pollinate the plants in our greenhouses, and some of the country homes on the outskirts donated their livestock to help keep us fed. Initially, we did go on runs for food, but we haven't needed to in a while.”

  Alex stuck his head through the window. “Clark, you forgot to tell him the best part! They got a bar, bro! Fully functioning!”

  “Seriously?”

  Clark pointed ahead and to the left. The green neon lights on the front of McMicky’s were off, but there were people inside, talking and cheering glasses.

  “Steve, you remember Micky?” asked Alex.

  “How could I forget? The guy took Mike’s fake ID when he tried to use it.”

  “Forgot about that story, but ya! So as it turns out Micky had an illegal still he ran out of the back! All that ‘top shelf’ stuff was his own. He just used the bottles for show.”

  “We mostly use the still to distill water for medical purposes, but Micky distills ethanol through it that we use as an antiseptic, fuel and, yes, for some for booze as well. As you can see, Micky’s place came to be the hangout spot. Go figure.”

  “Are those?” Steve said pointing to a cluster of men stumbling out of the bar.

  “The Marines that came with us? Yup. And those dudes can drink. I’d be surprised if they weren’t broke from other bar
tabs before this."

  “They even have a money system!” declared Jenny.

  “What? Really?”

  “It's true. Sort of credit system; relies a lot on honor and self-oversight. Most have never abused it.”

  Steve gazed proudly at the thriving community; a picturesque version of a modern egalitarian society. It was the place he and his cousins had been searching for. Ironically, the home they had yearned for, had been established after they left.

  Had we only stuck around...

  Steve continued thinking about the different possibilities had they never left or opted to come back. Mostly he thought of Mike, Billy, and Collin. They would be safe and alive, happy smoking pot, working out and playing video games.

  Then he thought about Sarah, Diane, Nick, and the others. He would have never known them or discovered the source of the infection.

  Nick was right, life has a purpose, and everything is connected. The retrospective clarity gave Steve a sense of peace.

  “This is where we get out,” Clark said, shifting to park.

  The words shook Steve from his inner thoughts. “Wait, I still have questions. What happened to my dad? What-”

  “I'm sure you do, and I will answer them soon.”

  “Why not now?”

  “Well, for starters, your friends have been filling us in on your journey. They told us about the conspiracy, and good timing, because many here were just about ready to leave for the Gathering.”

  "What Gathering?"

  "You've missed a lot, Steve-O," Alex said, closing the door behind the girls.

  “But-”

  “I promise, Steve, I will get you your answers, but your questions need to wait until after this. It’s important.”

  “Where are we? What's going on?”

  “Meeting, bro,” Alex said, pointing to the Fullertown High School gymnasium. Painted on the side of the brick building was the school mascot: a vicious Grizzly bear slashing its claws.

  “And we are already running late,” Clark added, backpedaling toward the emergency exit double-doors.

  "I'll see you boys after."

  Lisa pulled Alex by the collar and kissed him. She released his lips when she was done and not a moment before. “Go on, play hard,” she said, winking and smacking his butt.