by Lee Deadkeys
Her voice caught when she said Alex and she sagged in the doorway. Frank was to her before she toppled to the ground.
Jess turned away from them, “Sam, Ox, get the rifles. Keep an eye out, we might have company.” She turned to Mason next, “Let’s take a walk up the road a bit, see if we can find any spikes and clear a way through.”
They found three big handfuls of nails and screws and Mason had to wonder how they had missed the debris with their own vehicles. Jess shrugged when he wondered aloud and said, “The RV probably picked up most of it, we just got lucky that they drove through first.”
He stopped then, “Not so lucky for them.”
She shrugged again, “I didn’t say it was lucky for them.”
Frank was talking to the woman when they finished picking up what they could from the road. Mason showed a handful of debris to Frank, who nodded knowingly and turned his attention back to what the woman was telling him. Not wanting to disturb the woman’s recount of the horrors her family had recently endured, Mason eased his way around them to see about the body and the kids.
The inside of the RV smelled like blood and puke. Two small boys peeked around the body of a middle-aged man sprawled on a fold-down table. Mason felt sick from the smell and the sight of the children who stared at him with huge flat eyes, eyes that said they were beyond fear and horror.
“Come on out of there, guys,” Mason said, extending his hand as he eased down and tried to make himself smaller, less threatening.
“Alex gone,” the taller of the two boys said.
“Yeah, your mama told me. You two come on out now, come outside with us and your mom, we’ll see what we can do about getting Alex back.” As soon as he said it, he knew he’d committed himself. There was a part of him, the cold, logical part, which wanted to leave right now, pack up his crew of survivors and forget about these strangers.
But then, tentatively, one of the boys came forward, reached out an incredibly tiny hand, a hand that had a crusty dark swatch of his father’s blood across the back, and took hold of Mason’s. The smaller one followed behind his brother, bypassed Mason’s other hand and latched on to his leg.
“Alex scream,” the smaller boy said, his face pressed against Mason’s leg. He bent and scooped up the smaller boy and knew with every fiber of his being that he intended to find Alex, dead or alive and then kill the men that had done this. After all, his life wasn’t the only dog he had in this fight, there was also his humanity.
Mason exited the RV with one boy by the hand and the other on a hip, the boy’s head resting gently on his shoulder. Frank had led their mother over to the Jeep and was handing her a bottle of water. He felt a flicker of annoyance as he looked upon the group.
Frank was talking quietly with the woman, Ox had a hand on her back in a comforting gesture and Sam was busy transferring things from the Jeep to the back of the pickup, assumedly to make room for the woman and her boys. And then there was Jess, scanning the desert for trouble and casting glances at the woman as if she were a stray animal. No sense of compassion, no concern. She glanced up and caught Mason’s eye, noted the children and… nothing.
“A little help here, Jess,” he said, not bothering to mask his frustration.
Jess glanced around but made no move toward him and the children. Instead, Ox grabbed two bottles of water and brought them over, a lopsided grin on his face.
“Thirsty, lads?” he asked, handing off the opened bottles. “Don’t drink it too fast, it isn’t regular water. This stuff will make you as strong as me.” He flexed at them and the younger one took two quick drinks. The older one stared at Ox, mouth slightly agape.
“Are you a giant?” he asked and Ox laughed.
“No, I’ve just been drinking this water all day. I’ve got some snacks over there that have the same stuff in ‘em. You guys want to try some?” The boys nodded enthusiastically and followed Ox to the truck.
Jess made her way to where Mason stood. Frank broke away from the woman and met them by the RV.
“We need to get the hell out of here,” Jess said, glancing now and then out toward the desert.
Frank nodded, “I think it would be best to let the woman and her boys ride in the Jeep with you and Jess. Ox, Sam and I can take turns riding in the truck bed. We put some blankets down, shouldn’t be too bad.”
“So now we’re taking them with us? When was this decided?”
Frank looked at her like he’d never seen her before. “You think we should just leave them? Wait for those monsters to come back and finish what they started? My God, Jess, listen to yourself.”
Mason said nothing, his eyes fixed on her.
“Well, excuse the hell out of me for being the voice of reason. They’ll slow us down, deplete our supplies and everyone knows it.”
“You mean the voice of cover-your-own-ass, don’t you?” Mason said. Jess managed an appalled expression, but he wasn’t buying it. “I’m going after the girl. You guys should head out now. I’ll hoof it back a few miles and pick up another vehicle….”
“Are you out of your mind?” Jess nearly screamed. “You are not going after some kid, some kid that’s probably already de—”
Mason’s hand snaked out and grabbed her roughly by the arm. “Don’t you say it, Jess.” He half expected Frank to protest, but the man just lowered his head and looked away uncomfortably.
Ox took a step toward Mason, loomed over him and he braced himself for a blow. The giant hand came up and clamped on his shoulder. “I’ll ride with you, Hoss. I couldn’t live with myself knowing someone’s daughter is out there with bad men and I didn’t do anything about it.”
Sam had joined the group quietly, without Mason being aware of his presence. “Count me in. I’m a lot of things, not many of ‘em good, but I can’t abide harm to kids.”
Frank continued to stare at the ground for a moment, thinking. “Me and Jess will take the woman and boys in one vehicle, head to the cabin. You boys come along when you have the girl.”
“No,” the RV-woman spoke up behind Frank. “You two take my boys and I’ll ride along with these men. I know how to shoot a gun and I’ll not have you good people putting your necks out and not put out my own.”
“So much for not splitting up, leave no one behind, ‘eh, Mason?” Jess said. Her cheeks were flushed from either anger or too much sun. Mason figured it was probably a lot of both. He didn’t have anything to say to that, so he just held her gaze, tried to give back some of what she was sending or at the very least, hold up under it.
After a few moments, she blinked away a tear. “You’d get us killed for some strangers?” She shifted her rifle from a cradled position to ready. “Fine, but you are not taking Ox with you. He’s coming with me and those kids are going with you.” Before he could say anything, she turned and stormed away.
Frank cleared his throat and turned toward the RV-woman, “I’m sorry ma’am, we’ll take the boys with us to a safe place, and I’ll look after them personally.” He looked after his daughter, exhaustion plucking at the tissue around his eyes.
“She really doesn’t mean what she says, Ma’am. She’s just scared and has a poor way of showing it,” he said the last as a statement but it ended up sounding like an apology.
The woman nodded to him knowingly. “Can’t say I blame her. Didn’t take long for people to turn to shit.” She looked at her sons and her face became hard, resolute. “I see you folks are armed to the teeth, but I’ll get my Ned’s rifle, anyhow. He used to hunt antelope with it. It’ll reach out and touch someone. Name’s Annie, by the way.”
“Like Annie Oakley!” Ox laughed.
She looked him up and down, “Like Annie Booth, actually. But, I’ve been shooting since I could heft a gun, so in this case, I’ll call on the matron saint of female marksmen and ask for her blessing.”
“Amen!” Ox said and climbed in the back of the pickup.
* * *
Mason found Jess a few feet from the front of t
he RV, scanning the horizon with a pair of binoculars. He wondered briefly where she’d found them before realizing it wasn’t important. She didn’t turn when he approached.
“Hey, Jess.” She didn’t acknowledge his greeting. He stood beside her, looking out at the desert for a moment. “You and Frank should head out soon. I’ll feel better knowing you’re on your way.” She sighed once and let the binoculars hang from the neck-strap. She still didn’t face him.
“We do this thing—this ridiculous, suicidal thing—we do it together.”
“Jess, look,” she held a hand up to stop him but he ignored it. “We can’t take those kids into a… well, into God-knows-what. You see that, don’t you?”
She turned to face him then, her expression as readable as stone. “Those kids, hell all of us, are in a God-knows-what situation, Mason. For Christ’s sake, there are no rules anymore and you need to see that before you get us all killed!” She turned back toward the open desert. “The gloves are off, Mason. It’s all bare knuckles now.”
She glanced at him then, nothing more than a quick shift of the eyes, but he’d seen it nonetheless. She didn’t believe a word of her own argument.
In that moment, he realized that she wasn’t trying to convince him, she was trying to convince herself. Maybe she was trying to brace herself for death, for loss, for the possibility of having to kill someone to defend herself, someone she loved or even a stranger. She would be tested, like all people confronted with violence are tested. It was one thing to say how you’d react; it is another thing to do.
“You know there is nothing wrong with being terrified by all this, Jess.”
She turned quickly, aggressively, “I’m not scared, Mason.” She held his eyes for a moment before facing the desert again. “OK, you got me.” Her voice was low, softer. “What am I supposed to do, Mason? Run around like a scared woman so you can step in and take control, comfort me as I’m crying and shivering in a puddle of my own piss?” Mason let her continue, let her get it all out.
“I need us all to make it through this, Mason. Do you get that? If it’s just me in the end, it’s not worth it. Don’t get me wrong, I want to live… want it more now than I ever have and if I must do it alone, I will. But that will only be existing and that’s not good enough.”
Mason reached for her, took her into his arms. She didn’t resist. “I love you too, Jess. But I want to say something and I want you to think about it before you say anything, OK?” After a moment, he felt her head nod against his chest.
“Survival is our goal, right? Making it out of this together. But what about after? If we turn our backs on everyone, leave folks to die, then what? How is it going to set with you knowing that we turned our backs on a woman and kids? She’s just a girl, Jess, a girl that I don’t even want to think about what they’re doing to her! If we walk away from this, will you be able to sleep at night? Because I know I sure as hell won’t.”
She struggled against him, trying to pull away and he felt a flash of irritation that his words had fallen on deaf ears. She surprised him by taking a step back and putting her face in her hands. She was shaking violently.
He reached for her again, his irritation evaporating and replaced with alarm. “Jess, what is it?”
He tried to pull her hands from her face, but she turned away. She let out a rough, throat-wrenching sob and collapsed on the ground. She sat there, crying so hard that her breath seemed strangled. Mason took a step back in time to see Frank and Ox rushing over.
He held up a hand to stay them. Frank took two more hesitant steps before Ox stopped him with a hand and said something too low for Mason to hear. Frank stood a moment longer, unsure, before giving Mason a nod and turning to follow Ox back to the group.
Mason moved back to Jess and sat down beside her. She had stopped crying for the most part, but her breath still hitched every few seconds. She lowered her hands from her face and stared out at nothing, exposed and not caring anymore.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” she asked quietly. “Am I really this cold and unfeeling?”
“You’re not cold, and nothing is wrong with you.”
She shook her head, “No, I am… and something is wrong with me, or was left out of me, something… human. Sometimes I think I’m no better than the guy who killed my—”
“Stop, Jess,” Mason said and gently took her hand. “Do you think you’d be sitting here in the dirt contemplating your humanity, or lack thereof if you had none?”
When she didn’t respond, he continued, “You’re just coping, Jess, surviving. There’s no rulebook for enduring something like this.”
Her eye’s narrowed, creasing at the corners, “There’s always a rulebook, Mason, always.”
Mason nodded, chuckling lightly, “Maybe. Maybe your rulebook is the fast and dirty Jessica Walker version of surviving the apocalypse.”
She shrugged minutely.
He leaned sideways, bumping shoulders with her. “Besides, I lied, there is one thing wrong with you, and it’s that huge snot bubble, pulsing from your nostril.”
She looked at him, blank and quiet. Then she punched him on the arm and laughed.
“No, really,” he said, pointing at her nose. “That thing is enormous. When it blows, it’s going to cover you, me, the front of this truck….”
“All right, all right, blow my nose, I get it,” she said, wiping at her nose with the end of her shirt. She lifted her face to him, better? Mason nodded and smiled. He stood and offered her a hand up.
“Do you think that woman hates me?” She asked as she brushed the dirt from her backside.
“No,” he said firmly.
“Holy shit!” Ox suddenly yelled. Mason jerked his head around and saw Ox running toward them with a rifle. “They’re back!”
Mason jumped into the bed of the pickup and quickly surveyed the rising dust coming from the desert. Sam yelled to him from inside the cab, telling him to hold on or get out because he was going to move the vehicles into a barricade around the RV.
Grabbing firmly on to the roll bar, Mason told him to hit it. Sam still managed to throw him around as he pulled the truck into position. Sam jumped out and moved to the Jeep.
The woman and her two boys were crouched in the space between the vehicles and the RV. Frank threw down some boxes of ammo and empty magazines while Jess picked them up and started loading extras. Annie disappeared briefly into the RV and emerged with a scoped rifle and four boxes of ammo.
The cloud of dust was larger now, closer, and Mason was sure he could hear engines working hard as they raced over the uneven desert. He watched as the dust cloud split in two as the group broke up, probably to flank them. There was a brief but very real moment when he wished they had kept moving, left the RV and its occupants behind without even slowing down. Mason shook his head, there was no use thinking like that now. He had committed himself, he had committed them all.
The first of the enemy vehicles were motorcycles, dirt bikes. The woman, Annie, climbed up on top of the RV and went prone amongst some luggage. Mason checked the AR-15’s magazine for the fifth time.
“Here come the trucks,” Jess yelled, binoculars held tight against her face. “Looks to be three or four of them.” Jess glanced down at the two boys sitting on the ground. “You kids, sit up against the wheels. Put your back against them, that’s right, just like that. You stay there and only move if I yell for one of those magazines. Do you know what the magazine is? Yeah, the thing that goes in the gun.”
A tense quiet fell over the group. Mason sighted down the rifle, trying to control his breathing. He picked up one of the riders on the dirt bike but knew the man was too far away to risk a shot.
He tracked the man nonetheless, his vision tunneling, darkening around the edges. A crack rang out above him, Annie had fired. A second after he heard the shot, the man on the dirt bike flipped over backward, the bike moving through its forward momentum for a few feet before it toppling over.
�
��That’s a hit!” Mason yelled to Annie.
“Yeah, Mom!” One of the boys yelled and Mason smiled against the rifle stock. He felt strange, detached and yet hyper aware at the same time.
Another rider popped into Mason’s line of sight and his vision squeezed close around the tiny figure. The man veered suddenly as he came upon the fallen body. There was another report from Annie’s rifle followed by a curse as the bullet missed by a few inches. Mason distractedly heard her cycle the bolt, a pause and then another crack rang out. The second man went down.
“Hit!” he yelled.
“Way to go, Mom!” her son said. Jess let out a laugh and Mason followed with one of his own.
“Two moving fast on the right,” Frank bellowed and Mason risked a glance in his direction. Frank had taken up a position on top of the Jeep, also prone and working a bolt rifle. There was another crack from Annie’s rifle followed directly by a boom from Frank’s.
“Two down!” Jess yelled. “Wait, one down and the other is up.” Another boom from Frank’s rifle and part of the man’s head exploded in a red mist.
“Never mind,” Jess said. “The trucks are heading off to the right. Looks like they’ve had enough.”
“Bunch of pussies when someone’s shooting back,” Sam said from the front of the truck. Mason noticed that he was the only one without a rifle, preferring a shotgun instead, and figured it made sense if the fighting got close. Jess continued to scan the horizon, a huge smile on her face.
“Miss,” Annie said, still on top of the RV. “You didn’t happen to see anyone with them in the trucks, did you? Any children?” Jess held the binoculars tight to her eyes, her smile gone now.
“No. I’m sorry, it was just men.”
Annie nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
Jess continued to glass the area. “Looks like they’re headed down toward the lake. Do you guys think they’re gone for good or coming back?”
No one said anything for a long time. Frank got carefully down from the roof of the Jeep and dusted himself off. He walked over to the guns and switched out the bolt rifle for a semiautomatic carbine. After checking that the magazine was loaded, he looked up at Mason and then around to the others.