by D. J. Molles
Clyde asked the question that LaRouche was thinking: “Okay. What are we looking for?”
Chalmers smiled. “You both are good soldiers, but you lack faith. Particularly you, LaRouche. So I want you to go, and I want you to watch, so that you can have faith. The Lord clears a way for His people, I promise you. And when the way is clear, I want you to take Newton Grove with your detachment and send word back to the rest of us.”
“Okay.” LaRouche shook his head. “But what are we looking for?”
Chalmers sighed. “Always the doubtful one. Doubting Thomas. Just trust in God, LaRouche. Have faith. You will know it when you see it.”
FIFTEEN
WOLVES
THE DOUBLE DOORS TO the Camp Ryder building burst open. Lee emerged, his pace clipped, his jaw set. Outside in the Square, the people were standing, still as stones, their faces paler than usual. At the bottom of the steps stood Brinly and his remaining Marines, one of which looked pissed, another very distraught. Angela and Marie stood near them, taut as high-tension wires.
Lee walked straight to Brinly. “We need to talk.”
Brinly looked inside as the doors began to close slowly. All was very quiet. He nodded once, then followed Lee a few paces away from the others. “Is he still alive?”
“Yes.” Lee folded his arms across his chest. “Scarred, but he’ll live. I’m sorry that had to happen. He’s yours. You can do what you want with him.”
Brinly sniffed. “Did you find out where your friends are?”
Lee nodded. “I did.”
“What do you need from me?”
“Why didn’t Colonel Staley leave North Carolina? The real reason.”
Brinly looked directly at Lee, searching his face.
“Turner mentioned something about Colonel Staley’s daughter,” Lee pressed. “He said it right in front of you. You heard it. I wasn’t concerned with it at the time, but now…”
“Now you are?”
Lee frowned. “Now it has to do with loyalties. What happened with Colonel Staley’s daughter?”
The whole time that Lee talked, Brinly continued to size him up, taking the measurement of him. Whether or not he had been found wanting in those measurements, Lee never knew, but finally Brinly broke the long-held eye contact and gazed back at his Marines.
“She was taken. By the Followers of the Rapture. That’s why Colonel Staley never left North Carolina. It’s why he’s been so… passionate… about hunting the Followers down. He knows she’s in one of those cages, with all the other women. Or at least, that’s what he believes.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” Brinly shook his head with a sigh. “She’s dead. We’ve hit too many of their encampments and never caught a single trace of her. She’s fucking dead. She was stubborn as her old man and probably was more trouble than she was worth to them as a captive. Probably got herself executed.”
“Probably.”
Brinly shrugged. “We don’t have a body. All I can do is play the numbers.”
“So Staley’s only here because he hopes his daughter will show up?”
“You’re asking about the internal workings of Colonel Staley’s mind. I’m his second in command, but that doesn’t mean he tells me everything. I know that searching for his daughter kept him here. Whether there are other factors—particularly concerning President Briggs—all I can say is what he already told you. We severed communications with them.”
“Apparently not all of you severed communications.”
A nod. “I suppose not.”
“Speak to me honestly here, Brinly.” Lee dipped his chin, looked at the first sergeant earnestly. “How many other people do you think are on board with Kensey and his group?”
“No idea.” He looked visibly distressed. “Kensey was a solid Marine. But not the most charismatic person. I can’t see a bunch of people going down with him on this one. But then again, I didn’t see him even pulling this shit in the first place.”
“Did you notify Colonel Staley?”
“Yes. He’s circling the wagons, so to speak. Just in case.”
“Where is the artillery?”
“Convoy just moved past Newton Grove. Should be in place by the end of the day.”
Lee nodded. “I’m running short on time and long on problems here.”
Brinly looked at the captain. “As far as Kensey goes, he’s in the same boat as Corporal Turner. Ain’t no Marine of mine ever swapped sides on me. They can all go to hell for pulling that shit. You do what you gotta do to get your people back. We can stick around if you need.”
Lee felt the offer like a fish might feel about a worm on a hook. Tempting, but risky. He was beginning to doubt what might actually be going on with the Marines. He wanted to trust First Sergeant Brinly, and believed that at least he was on the up-and-up. But Colonel Staley and the rest of the Marines in his command… that became dicey. Three Marines and an up-armored MATV could wreck a lot of shit inside Camp Ryder if they chose to.
Long on problems, Lee thought again.
“No, you should meet up with the artillery units,” Lee said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I want to make sure those guns are pointed in the right direction.”
Brinly grunted and Lee could tell he was a little miffed. But given the evidence at hand, he kept silent. There really wasn’t a case he could make for himself at this point.
Lee clapped him on the shoulder, trying to display some warmth and goodwill, but it came off stiff. Lee turned and walked away from him. He went to Angela and Marie. Their backs were to the crowd of people and Lee could see them between Angela’s and Marie’s bodies. They were still staring, but Lee thought they were showing less horror on their faces and more concern and curiosity now.
Marie grabbed Lee’s arm. “Did he tell you?”
Lee nodded and turned his attention to Angela. “I’m sorry…”
She held up a hand and he wasn’t sure whether her dismissal was sympathetic or angry. Her face didn’t give much away. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you earlier with all of this going on, but Nate and Devon and Paul and Junior radioed in when you were on your way back. Did you catch any of what they said?”
Lee shook his head. “No. I must not have heard them inside the helicopter.”
“I figured that, when you didn’t respond,” Angela said, then cleared her throat. “Both teams have made contact. The basic gist of what I got was that they’re not sure if the entire horde is following them, because of how big it is, but they definitely have a lot strung along behind them. They’re working their way back toward Smithfield now.”
“Shit.” Lee touched his head.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yes, it’s good. But there’s too many things happening right now.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’ve just got a lot of pans in the fire is all.” He looked at Marie. “Getting Julia and Harper back is priority number one right now, okay?”
Marie nodded stiffly. “Okay.”
“We’re gonna get ’em back.”
“Okay.”
Lee looked to Angela for a moment. He waded through murky waters of unsaid words, but was unable to find the right ones in all the silt. An apology was pointless, and she was right to cut him off for trying to give her one. What was the point in apologizing for something you didn’t intend to change? Besides, Lee couldn’t change what he’d done to Turner. This was a fight to the goddamn death, and Turner had gotten himself in the way at the wrong time.
Someday she’ll understand it.
The doors opened again, and this time Carl emerged, alone. Lee waved him over to where he was standing with Angela and Marie. Carl made his way to them, eyeing the Marines as he passed. “Your friends only got about twenty hours left. Might want to get this train rolling.”
“Angela just informed me that the bait trucks have already made contact and are on the way to Smithfield.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. A little quicker than I anticipate
d. But we can still work it.” Lee looked over his shoulder to the Black Hawk that took up the vast majority of the open area in the Square. “How’s the fuel situation in the bird looking?”
“Fine. What you need?”
“I need a fast way to get to where they got my people, and a fast way to get out. Also need your boys with me.”
“I can do that.” Carl made another glance in the direction of the Marines. “Don’t trust ’em?”
“Don’t trust anyone,” Lee answered. “But I have particular doubts about them now. Besides that fact, Tomlin vouched for you, so I guess that counts for something.”
Carl cracked a rare smile. “I’d hope so.”
“I need something else from you,” Lee said, then looked at the two women. “And this pertains to y’all as well.”
“I’m listening,” Angela assured him.
“What’re you thinking?” Carl asked.
“I’m thinking that when those hordes hit, that’s going to be a couple million infected, just thirty miles north of us. If anything goes wrong with the plan, or if we don’t kill them all, or if some of them get distracted, and keep heading south before we can splash rounds, then they’re gonna be coming straight this way.”
“I’d considered the same,” Carl said darkly.
“Wait.” Angela held up a hand. “You want us to leave?”
Lee nodded. “Angela, we can’t stay here. It might just be a few stragglers that make it out of Smithfield alive. Or there could be entire sections of thousands that wander off before we can hit them. If a horde of a thousand were to come here, they would wipe Camp Ryder off the map. These fortifications won’t hold.”
“What do you need from me?” Carl asked.
“I need you to send an escort up here. Get these people out of here. Take them back to Fort Bragg.”
“Lee!” Angela hissed. “You can’t be serious! You’re going to transplant the entire group over a possibility that something bad might happen?”
“No,” Marie said suddenly, putting a hand on Angela’s arm. “He’s right, Angela. These fences barely keep the infected out anymore. It’s been a long time coming, but we knew this was going to happen. This was a good place for us to get a start and be secure. But it didn’t hold back the hunters, and it sure as hell ain’t gonna hold back a horde of a thousand if they come knocking.”
“But…” Angela stammered, but couldn’t seem to find a convincing argument.
“I’m not talking about a permanent shift,” Lee said. “But until we have everything sorted out, I don’t think this is the safest place for everyone. People wanna come back after everything is said and done? That’s fine. But right now? It’s just dumb. Especially if Fort Bragg is willing to house us for a short time.” Lee glanced to Carl with the last part.
Carl considered it, and to his credit, it didn’t take him long before he nodded. “Honestly, I’m surprised you guys are still standing in this place. We have barracks and army houses that have been empty for months. More than enough room to house every person here and then some. Plus we’re secure and insulated. It won’t be a problem. I can put the call in right now and get a detail working on escorting you folks to Fort Bragg.”
Lee nodded. “Angela. Marie. You guys are the leaders here. I just advise, and I’m strongly advising you to do this. But you gotta make the call. What do you say?”
Angela and Marie shared a look, and then Angela turned partially outward so that her gaze fell on the crowd of survivors that stood around at the front of Shantytown. Lee looked out at them, too, and thought he knew exactly what was going through Angela’s head. We lost so many people, we sacrificed so much for this place, and now we’re going to abandon it. Sure, we can come back to it, but realistically, are we going to? Is it practical? Our houses are made of tarp and wood. We’re cold and wet half the days. Most of the people that fought for this place are gone or dead. And most everybody that remains is new, or a stranger. There’s no reason to be here. There’s only misplaced emotional attachment.
Angela turned back and nodded. “Okay. Yes. We’ll do it. I don’t think it will take much convincing.” She looked at Carl. “If you get your men up here, we’ll be ready to go.”
“I’ll start working on it,” he said. “But right now, I think we need to come up with a plan to get your people back, yeah?”
Lee nodded. “Turn the corporal over to First Sergeant Brinly. Then we’ll get going. You okay with an in-flight plan?”
“I’ve been known to wing it from time to time,” Carl admitted.
“All right.” Lee pointed to the Black Hawk. “Let’s roll.”
Brett extracted himself from the uncomfortably small interior of the blue car. The Jersey barriers didn’t completely surround the nucleus of Newton Grove, so they were able to pull the vehicles into the protected interior. He stepped out into the cold air, stretching his legs as the next shift gathered around to take the vehicle from him and his partners.
It just so happened that he’d gone on patrol with Mac this past time.
Mac’s people were the ones standing there, waiting for the blue car.
“Mac, didn’t the Marines already come through?” one of the men asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
The man looked irritable. “Then why are we still out here doing this? Isn’t getting the Marine convoy through the whole reason why we were here?”
Mac looked at the others as though he were considering it.
“Let’s get the fuck back to the camp,” another man urged. “This place is creepy as shit.”
Brett looked at them all like they were idiots. “Mac. And you—I don’t even know your name—were you guys not fucking listening? Captain Harden said that after the Marines passed through we were supposed to watch their back. The Followers are pressing west and there’s a good chance they might start showing up along our route. If we’re not here to sound the alarm…”
The man who had wanted to go rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a shit about no fucking Followers.”
“Well, you should,” Brett said sharply.
Mac addressed his man. “You’re talkin’ out of your ass, Bud. Why don’t you hit the road. Let’s just stick to the plan, okay?”
The man called Bud heaved a heavy sigh, and he and his three companions took to the vehicle. Four people in a scout vehicle seemed like a bit much to Brett. What was this, a fucking social call for them? Or were they really, secretly scared of the Followers? That was probably more likely.
Brett smirked to himself as they closed the doors and headed out to do their patrol. As they squeezed through the opening in the barriers, he watched the van come around the corner. Brett arched his aching back and nodded to Mac. “Why don’t you go ahead and grab some food. I’ll watch the perimeter first. Need to take a walk and loosen these legs anyways.”
Mac nodded tiredly and headed off toward the center of the ring of barriers, where they had stored most of their junk: sleeping bags, bedrolls, food and water, and extra fuel. Some of the people had helped themselves to the abandoned shanties. But many of them were unsettled by the empty shanties, as though they were haunted by the ghosts of their previous owners. Some chose to sleep in the open, despite the cold air. They’d built several larger fires around the camping area to keep them warm. But Brett got the sense that Mac’s group had been somewhat nomadic until very recently and was used to laying their heads in odd spots wherever they could find a place.
Brett turned his attention outward and scanned the buildings that surrounded them. They really should have posted lookouts in the buildings, he thought. But they had the work divided in half already. There were twenty-four of them, total. Twelve were on patrol at a time, taking six-hour shifts. It was supposed to be two in the car, two in the truck, and eight in the van as a sort of quick reaction force.
Apparently Mac’s brilliant people decided to go four to a car, for whatever fucking reason.
Whatever. Brett shook his head. It didn’
t bother him that much, but for the fact that these people refused to stick to a plan. They were highly undisciplined. Their randomness created a lot of concerns for Brett. He propped himself up against the cement barrier that was almost as tall as he was. Across the expanse of what had once been a prospering group of survivors, Brett watched the van roll through the gap in the barriers and pull to a stop. The truck was close behind.
The sun was just now beginning to head for the horizon, but the night watch was taking over. They wouldn’t really watch it all night long. More like second-shift hours. They’d keep patrolling until about midnight and then turn it over to Brett’s half again.
Brett watched them while they unloaded. The Marine convoy had passed, and now they were waiting for the Followers. Brett had a job to do, and yet he was strangely calm. Peaceful. Even in the midst of all this wreckage, his back against a cement barrier pockmarked with bullet holes and stained with blood that could have been from the people trying to survive here, or from whatever had attacked them.
He wondered if there’d been any survivors after the infected had attacked. Maybe they decided to up and leave when most of their friends had been killed… and probably eaten. But wouldn’t they have headed for Camp Ryder? The next closest safe place? Maybe. Maybe not. Sometimes people made decisions that made sense only to them.
The squads swapped out. The van pulled out and left them. Then the pickup truck.
Brett continued on his walk around the perimeter. He found another guard standing watch on the opposite side of the ring of barriers. He hadn’t been able to see him through the trees and tents and shanties that took up the center. The man was from Brett’s group, an older guy named Roland. Trucker. Transplanted out of Ohio when the collapse happened. Found his way to the same little group of survivors in the woods that Brett had.
Brett waved to him with a smile. “Roland. You doin’ okay?”
Roland wasn’t a fan of the cold, despite being from Ohio, which was much cooler than North Carolina. He was hunched in his jacket, his arms wrapped around his rifle, looking miserable. He managed a perfunctory greeting to Brett. “Fine. You?”