I loaded ten of the thirty-round magazines and packed them into a backpack. The rifle had a sling that held the gun to my chest, so I was still able to carry my bow and my Colt was still stuck to my hip.
I spent several days making arrows, and these were special arrows. I used some of the gunpowder I had for reloading, and took some practice shooting the heavier arrows. I had a use for these, and I hoped that what I was going to do with them was going to be successful. I also made a quick run to the east, and that was a very enlightening experience.
The last thing I needed was a boat. Instead of randomly hunting for one like Trey and I had done, this time I knew where to go to get one. There was a campground not far from here and they had canoes. That would serve.
I took Missy out and we went south. About ten miles out, I came upon the campground. It was little more than a collection of small cabins around a lake that wasn’t more than three acres. Kim told me once that the difference between a pond and a lake was depth. I argued that if I had a hole that was only three feet square but forty feet deep it would be a lake? Kim had said yes, and I thought she was crazy.
When I thought about her, my eyes turned south, and I hoped she forgave me for making the mistakes I did.
The big shed had the boats and I took one of the canoes off the rack. I remembered to grab a paddle and tossed it in the boat. I wrapped rope through one of the braces and tied the other to my saddle horn. Missy was not too thrilled about pulling the canoe, but she didn’t fight me more than a little.
On our way back, we ran into a Tripper coming out of a barn, and Missy started for it. She jumped for it and I tried to rein her in, but she raced forward again. I yanked hard on the reins and Missy stopped short. The canoe swung around and hit the Tripper in the knees. The infected person tumbled down, smacking its head on the side of the road. It stayed down, and I walked Missy away from it. The blood coming out of the Tripper’s head was dark red, and it wasn’t going to get up from that.
Back home, I laid out all of my gear and made sure I had what was needed. I was going to be playing with fire, and I surely didn’t want to get burned.
Chapter 60
The water looked really, really cold as I put the canoe in. I had brought it out toward Lemont as opposed to going north, since there was a lot of Tripper activity that way. I got chased back to my house and spent three days shooting arrows into Trippers. The bonfire from that group was a very large one. I left the horses behind, as I didn’t want to get them into trouble, and I didn’t plan on being gone longer than a day. I wasn’t looking for a fight, just wanted to get things moving. I picked a day when the wind was blowing from the east; I needed that for this to work.
I got into the water and started paddling north. The hills of the river valley rose on either side of me as the silent barge loaders stood sentry to the river. The waterway split north and east, and I took the right fork. I had studied my maps and knew where this waterway was going to take me.
A length of barges waited on the shore, patiently in line for loads that will never come. The barges were the last thing I saw on the canal for a while, the edges of the water becoming completely lined with trees. It was actually kind of nice.
The miles flowed past, and the bridges became more frequent. I could see many houses and buildings, and I decided to make a start. I tied up the canoe at the edge of the river and carefully made my way inland. There was a huge subdivision south of me and I could already see Trippers wandering around. I took my bow and one of my special arrows out. I lit the long fuse and drawing the bow back I launched the arrow as far as I could. The fuse fizzed the whole way, and the arrow sailed out of sight.
The explosion was a hell of a lot louder than I expected, and every Tripper in sight started in that direction. They came out of the houses and they appeared from every direction. They all wandered toward the place where the explosion had come from.
All was well. I made my way back down the bank of the river to the canoe, and pushed off again. That noise had echoed down the canal, and I was sure it was starting some movement on the north side of the water as well.
At the next stop, I launched an explosive on the north side of the river and a flare on the south side. I alternated on both sides of the river, figuring if nothing else I was drawing them towards the water.
I paddled a little further than before, wanting to put some distance between the masses. I parked it near another bridge and made my way up the bank. There weren’t any Trippers in sight, so I launched an arrow into the buildings to the south. The arrow sizzled out of sight and then nothing.
“Are you kidding me?” I said. I pulled out another arrow and put it to the bow. I lit it and aimed about where I had put the other one. I was just about to release when the first one when off. I stepped back, startled, and slipped a little down the bank. I launched the arrow straight up into the air.
“Oh, shit!” I said. I slid down the bank and pushed the canoe out into the river. I paddled under the bridge and stayed there, waiting for the arrow to fall. There was a huge explosion right above the bridge, rocking the water and causing my ears to ring.
The explosion was followed by a loud string of wheezing, and a Tripper falling into the water right in front of my canoe. The wake rocked the boat, and I waited a second before another one fell into the water.
“Not what I need right now, guys,” I said, paddling over to the other side of the river. I dug in the water and pushed forward getting out from under the bridge. Another Tripper landed in the water behind me, causing the canoe to shoot forward a bit.
This wasn’t as easy of a trip as I had hoped. I had been canoeing before, but it had been with my dad, and he basically controlled the boat while I was more of just a participant in the exercise. But the basics were pretty easy, and if you weren’t an idiot, you could figure it out.
I paddled faster, and I could see the shoreline and bridge filing with Trippers. There were a lot of them, and I was hoping to get more. I had a bunch of bomb arrows and I planned on using them all. That is, if I didn’t manage to kill myself first.
I kept moving and shooting, and I reached a point where I had to shoot from the canoe. The banks of the canal were too steep to climb out, and there wasn’t any place I could tie the boat up to. But it was a good thing, as I moved deeper and deeper into the populated areas. The city was very close, and the canal widened considerably. The sun was up high, and the area was very clear. I sent one sailing into the streets, and I could hear the echo of the blast reverberating among the buildings. I listened for the telltale wheezing that told me the Trippers were on the move, and I went down to the next spot.
When I was down to my last four arrow bombs, I began to look for a place to park the canoe. The next part of the plan was a little more dicey. I paddled hard until I reached the spot where I-57 crossed the river. I jammed the canoe into the underbrush at the river’s edge, grabbed my bag, and adjusted my quiver and guns. I had a feeling that the explosions were causing a few of those drones to come to the area, and I wanted to take a couple of those out as well. I carried one of the rifles I took off the men down south, and it had a decent scope on it.
I ran up the steep embankment, slipping and climbing in the dirty snow. My hands were cut and bruised, and I almost went sliding back down the way I had come, but at last, I pulled myself over the edge of the highway. To the north, I could see hundreds of figures milling about, and out over the expanse of homes, I could see hundreds more milling about. If I had to guess, I had put a few thousand in motion.
I moved fast, knowing I didn’t have a lot of time. The air was full of wheezing, and I was sure a great number of Trippers from Chicago were on the move. Trippers were weird that way. They would stand around and stare at nothing, but if one of them had an interest in something, suddenly they all had an interest in it. It was almost as if they had a way of communicating with each other. Who knows; they were evolving and getting more dangerous. Maybe they could talk to each
other. If so, then I was doing the right thing.
I moved with the rifle out, and a couple of times I had to shoot a Tripper that hadn’t quite made it to where the noise had been coming from. If I had done the job right, I had agitated and put into motion Trippers from both sides of the river. The last thing I needed to do was draw them all south. I shot another arrow behind me and ran as it exploded. I wanted to be another half mile away before I sent my next one. I was getting to the really dangerous part, and it was going to be a big matter of timing.
Chapter 61
Five hours later, as the sun was setting, and after three explosions punctuated the evening festivities, the time saw me on Interstate 80 heading east. Behind me, coming from I-294, and from I-57, were literally tens of thousands of Trippers. Maybe a few hundred thousand. I didn’t stop to count. But they filled the streets from one side to the other, and these were ten-lane highways. Their wheezing and growling was awful to hear, but I wasn’t finished with them yet. That wheezing pulled in every Tripper from every subdivision we passed, calling them to us like a siren song of death and pain.
I walked and jogged to keep ahead of them, and I knew we had ten miles to go. The snow was helping me more than it was helping them. I was able to keep my footing better than the Trippers did, and when one went down, it always took out the next three behind it. But they always scrambled to their feet and kept moving, following the herd. I wondered as I walked if the ones in the middle had any idea what was going on, or if they just followed the crowd.
As I walked, I thought about Kim and Judy, and it helped with my resolve with what I was about to do. I needed the darkness, and the clouds were most obliging, darkening the sky after a brilliant sunset.
Ahead of me in the dark rose an even darker mass, and I ran further ahead to gain some distance. I pulled the final special arrow out of my pack. I had one shot at this and I couldn’t miss. I could see the small grey box on the side of the wall, and I knew I was in the right place.
I stood back from the wall and shot my arrow over it. Attached to the arrow was a knotted rope, and the arrow had a small grappling hook tied to the end of it, instead of a field point. The arrow sailed over, and I carefully pulled it back. The hook caught and I was up and climbing in an instant. Behind me, the horde kept advancing, and in the darkness, I scurried over the wall. I repositioned the grappling hook to the other side, and then climbed back down. I stayed in the darkness and moved carefully east. When I found my preparations, I checked to make sure they were still in place, and ready to go.
I had cut four full sections of fence away, and placed a line of gunpowder off into the distance toward the fence. When everything looked okay, I ran back to the wall. I climbed back up, and looked out over the other side. The road was filled with Trippers, and they were looking for what had brought them out here. Some of them started to wander away, so I shouted down at them to get their attention.
You would have thought I had just announced a free dinner. Hungry- and hate-filled eyes stared up at me, and I pulled the second to last trick out of my bag. It was the little controller with the strange numbers that I had pulled from the truck down south. I had been looking at a map of the state when I remembered the controller. The little piece of paper with names and codes seemed odd until I compared it to the map. The names and numbers were street names and county roads, and the codes were the ones to open the gate for that section of the wall.
I entered the code for I-80 and pressed the green button. There was a rumbling in the wall beneath me, and suddenly the Trippers were moving through the wall. I watched them go past, and on the other side, they began to spread out.
I pulled the last arrow out and struck it against the ground. The flare burned brightly and I shot it towards the gunpowder line. The gunpowder sparked like a beacon and flamed off into the distance, catching the sticks and twigs I had placed in the powder on fire. The line of flame went off into the distance and the Trippers followed it. They headed right for the opening in the fence.
It took the entire night for the massive horde to go through the gate. I just lay on the wall and took a nap, as I was pretty tired. When I woke, it was just starting to get grey in the eastern sky. There were still a few Trippers walking along the highway, and after another two hours, the last of them wandered through the gate. I hit the red button on the controller and felt the gate close beneath me. I figured there were still several Trippers in the area, so I started walking south on top of the wall.
If I had to guess, there were probably half a million to over a million Trippers that went through that gate last night. The people who lived in the towns nearest the wall wouldn’t have any idea what was coming. I felt a small pang of regret at what they were going to go through, but it was tempered by the knowledge that they left us to die, and would kill us if we tried to save ourselves by crossing the wall.
I kept walking, and in a little while, I started to hear the sounds of the drones. They were buzzing around soon enough and one came over to take a look at me. I waved and it hovered just out of pistol shot. I reached into my pack and pulled out a piece of paper. I had written on it with large black letters, and I held it up for a minute to give the drone a good chance to see what it said.
After that, I tossed the sign over the wall and pulled up my rifle. The drone sped up out of range and flew away. It was a good time for me to drop off the wall. I was nearing where I wanted to be, anyway.
I climbed down the wall and started walking back towards my house. The sun on my back felt great, and I kept a watchful eye out for any activity. I was back on the road I had once traveled with my father just five years ago, but it seemed like a lifetime.
I spent the remainder of the day walking back, and I didn’t see a single Tripper. I knew there were more to the north, and I know I didn’t get all of them to walk through the gate. But I had the controller, and there was one more horde I wanted to get out of the state.
Chapter 62
Four weeks later, I was standing on the wall at night again, this time much further south. I had packed up Pumpkin and Missy, and we had headed this way. I had stopped at the graves of Judy and Kim to pay my respects, and after that, we went hunting. The Trippers made it really easy, since they were near the wall anyway. I only needed to give them a small push in the right direction.
This time, the Trippers were through in only three hours, and I closed the gate after them. I watched them walk away into the darkness, chasing the flare I had sent through the gate again. That was my last flare, so it was the last time I was going to be sending Trippers out of the state. I knew there were more, but the codes on the controller only listed roads to the north. This was the last gate listed on the paper.
I walked along the wall for a little while, reaching the rope I had placed there earlier. I climbed down and took up the picket ropes for my horses. I led them back to the wagon I had found for them, and re-hitched the pair to it. The spring air made everything seem new again, and I couldn’t help but feel like we had a much better chance against the world now.
“Hey, there! Step to!” I called out, snapping the reins. “Move on, ladies, we’ve got a job to get to.”
Chapter 63
Two weeks earlier:
“I know the city’s gone, Goddammit!” Vega screamed into the phone. “No, I have no idea where the hell they all came from. The wall is intact around Chicago! It is intact! I need more men here!”
The command center had been a nightmare from yesterday until today. Reports were coming in from all over the place that Trippers were ravaging towns and moving out into the country. The virus was reportedly moving faster than it had been in its earliest version, turning people into Trippers within hours. Vega had heard the reports of the Trippers eating their prey, but he hadn’t believed it until he had seen three of them tear apart one of his men at the gate.
Vega grabbed another ringing phone. “Christ, what now?” he asked. He listened for a minute. “Sweet Jesus, they’re th
at far? Okay, try to set up some kind of barricade that can hold them. What? No, we may have to pull back from there. Grand Rapids, too? God. Well, tell everyone to stay in their homes and stay quiet. What? No. I don’t know. Build a wall, I guess.”
Captain Vega slumped in his chair. His worst nightmare had come true. The Trippers had broken out of their pen and they were slaughtering everything they came across. The army was fighting, but they were losing in places and they couldn’t contain the disaster. The government was dealing with full panic on the eastern side of the country while the western side was preparing for battle.
At least they have some warning, Vega thought. His mind drifted back to the trip he took into the infected country, and wondered if he or the men he came out with had carried the virus somehow, something they might have touched. But the first reports came from the north, not where he had crossed, so it wasn’t making sense.
Of the woman he had killed or the man he had chased, he didn’t think about at all. She was dead and he was behind a wall. If he came back over here, his face was posted everywhere with a hundred-thousand-dollar bounty on his head. He’d be caught in a day. But the Trippers were here now and that was Vega’s issue. Since he was in command of the containment efforts, everyone was screaming for his head.
Born In The Apocalypse (Book 3): Jericho Page 16