“Is that a Winnebago?”
“I don’t see the W.”
“I don’t think they all have Ws.”
Logan turned to see a cloud of dust approaching.
“Bookworm?” he said under his breath. He yelled to the crowd, “Hold your fire. It’s not them.”
“How is that thing holding together?” The crowd continued to chatter as the motor coach pulled up to the gates of the town.
“Bookworm?” Logan shouted to the coach. With the windshield shattered, he could see the mastiff in the passenger seat. Chewy growled.
Jerry stepped from the coach and stood before the town. “Good people of the town of New Hope, you are in danger.”
“Really, asshole? What do you think we’re all doing up on the wall? Dumb ass.”
The young man was grabbed by an ear and dragged off of the wall. “Jefferson Davis Allen, you watch your mouth!”
“Logan is a fraud.” Jerry pointed to the warrior on the wall.
“You’re the fraud, Bookworm,” Roy Tinner shouted back. “Logan told us all about you, library boy.”
“Jerry,” Logan stepped in front of the agitated crowd. “You should go. It’s not safe here.”
“I never would have guessed it, Logan. It was you all along.”
“Jerry, take your girlfriend. And your … bears? And go.”
Jerry turned to see his companions behind him. The boys still wore their bear costumes. Each was covered in grass stains.
“How many towns, Logan? How many since Colorado?”
“Jerry, it’s for your own good. Leave while you still can.” Logan’s mutt was at his heel growling at the group. Chewy burst through the front of the Silver Lining, put herself between the dog and her master and growled back.
“How many lives have you destroyed? How many people have trusted you, only to be betrayed?”
“I can’t be responsible for your safety, Bookworm.”
“I’m not leaving, Logan.” Jerry stepped closer to the wall and addressed the crowd. “Good people, this man has sold you a lie. You are not safe behind your walls.”
“He’s protecting us,” Roy pushed Logan out of the way and held up the crossbow as proof of his statement.
“Roy, don’t,” Logan tried to calm the councilman.
“They’re fake,” Jerry fired back.
“I’ll show you fake, you …” Roy Tinner lowered the crossbow and aimed it Jerry.
“Roy, stop!” Logan screamed.
Jerry stood his ground. “Shoot me, Roy!”
“Jerry, no!” Erica rushed to his side.
He pushed her back and turned back to Roy.
“C’mon, Roy. Pull the trigger, you spineless paper pusher.”
Logan put his hand on the crossbow, but he was too late. Roy pulled the release and fired the bolt straight at Jerry’s chest.
Erica screamed. Chewy barked. Jerry didn’t move.
The bolt whistled through the air, struck against the grain of Jerry’s leather jacket and shattered.
Roy stared in disbelief.
Jerry held up his hands. “Still don’t believe me, Roy?”
Roy grabbed the crossbow from a man standing next to him and fired again with the same result. Splintered wood bounced at Jerry’s feet.
“You see, it’s …”
Roy grabbed another bow and fired.
The bolt shattered.
“Okay, Roy. I think I’ve made my point.”
Roy, the city councilman, asked for another crossbow.
“They’re all the same. Don’t you see?”
Another bolt shattered against his jacket.
“Would you stop it, Roy?” Jerry stepped forward. The pile of brittle wood cracked beneath his feet.
“It’s going to be the same with flamethrowers. Maybe one good burst and they’ll suddenly lose pressure. You’ve dug pitfalls around the walls, correct?”
One of the defenders nodded.
“They won’t go for the walls. They’ll go straight for the gate. And Logan will let them in.”
Carl stepped forward. “Not this baby. She’s a beast with a hardened load in the back.” Carl giggled and looked to Logan for approval.
“Who has the keys?”
Without hesitation, Carl pointed at Logan.
There was a sudden burst of flame from one of the cannons. A roar of approval went up from the fire-person team. The jet of flame sputtered and fizzled; so did the roar of approval.
Roy had watched the pyrotechnic display and was finally convinced. He turned to accuse Logan, but the man had disappeared.
“Find him!” The mayor gripped his daughter close.
The town walls emptied as the people searched for the man they had trusted.
Jerry heard shouts and gunfire. Then, all was quiet. The town was still. The cement truck fired up and began to move.
Roy, the city councilman, stepped from the gates and waved Jerry and his friends into New Hope.
THIRTY-ONE
The air brakes fired in quick succession and the massive rig began to squeal as the calipers struggled to halt the forward momentum of the four trailers.
A lone rider sat astride his motorcycle. A second bike was propped up next to him. The rider waited for the rig to come to a stop and he yelled over the thrumming of the engine, “Apple Pie Sucks!”
The pass phrase was accepted. Doors flew open as the guard detail disembarked and secured a perimeter around the truck. Once it was established, two of the guards rushed to the bikes.
The rider dismounted and jogged to the rig as the guards fired up the motorcycles and pulled them into the rear trailer.
The rider pulled himself into the command center and saluted the major.
“Report, Sergeant,” the raspy voice seemed tired. He didn’t look up from the map table.
“Sir. Logan brought a woman to the rendezvous. Williams and I fired on the car with live rounds as ordered. As planned, Logan pursued us and discharged several blanks. I fell. Logan and the woman then pursued Williams over a mile up the road.”
The rider stopped.
The major looked up, “And?”
“When I was able to check, I found Williams dead. Shot, sir.”
“Logan?”
“I can’t be certain, sir. Perhaps the girl. I found a bloody knife near the body. I’m quite certain the staged knife fight occurred.”
The major considered this information; his eye drifted up and to the right. “It’s hard to trust a con man, Sergeant. He could be working an angle.”
“What’s the angle, sir?”
“I can’t be certain. But that man is always working an angle. Maybe he finally found a place he wanted to settle down.”
The sergeant couldn’t see it. Logan wasn’t one to settle down. He had shown up half dead at the gates of Alasis and conned his way in. Even the most developed city in the Midwest hadn’t swayed the vagabond’s wanderlust.
“Either way,” the major continued, “the cells are full. It may be best to approach this town with a no prisoner approach.”
“Sir?”
“No prisoners, Sergeant. Spread the order.”
“But, sir, what about Logan?”
“That slippery bastard will be smart enough to keep his head down. If not, I’m fairly certain we can find some other scumbag drifter that will fit the part.”
The sergeant hesitated.
“That’s an order about the orders, Sergeant.”
The pondering ceased and the soldier snapped to attention. He stepped from the cab and spread the word that no prisoners were to be taken from the town of New Hope.
The major pulled a microphone from a control panel and flipped a switch that enabled the loudspeaker. He cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone.
“It’s been a good season, boys. And, from what Logan tells us, this place is packed with food and medical supplies. More than enough to bring home to our growing family.
“After this fi
nal raid, we’ll head home and celebrate. Do me proud, boys.”
Through the hull of the truck he could hear the cheers of his men. Wars may change, worlds may change, but soldiers are always happy to go home.
He turned the amplifier off and turned to the driver, “Let’s roll out. And if you see that bastard in the Winnebago, you run his ass off the road.”
“Yes, sir.”
THIRTY-TWO
There was no fanfare. No crowds, no throngs of grateful citizens rushed the Silver Lining. Roy walked slowly ahead of the coach and guided it to the middle of the town. The Silver Lining jiggled; riddled with bullet holes, cracked from constricting vines, its structure had been weakened. A quick drive from Dallas that had disregarded potholes and all but the largest pieces of debris had accelerated the decay of the coach.
Jerry pulled close to the town hall barn in the center of town and shifted into park. Before he could stand, Erica was out the door and charging toward where the town had bound Logan against an old lamppost. Jerry stepped from the cabin in time to see her strike him across the face. She reeled back for another blow when two of the townspeople rushed in and held her back.
“Let go of me!” She kicked as they dragged her back and ground her heels into the brown dirt of Town Square.
Jerry ran up to the struggle.
“This man murdered my family!” She spit at Logan.
Logan shrugged. Blotches of purple welts blended into the scars on his face. His mouth bled from a missing tooth and he panted deeply. Still, he grinned.
Jerry ripped the hands of the townspeople from her arms and waist. Trying to calm her, he took her hands in his and tried to see past the rage in her eyes.
“Erica, Erica, Erica,” he pleaded to get her attention from anger; she was hysterical and would not look at him. He shook her gently by the shoulders. Finally she looked into his eyes. There was calm there. He stared into her gaze for a moment, released her hands and said, “Knock that grin off of his face, please.”
She smiled and returned to kicking and slapping the bound man. Logan moaned as she drove her feet into his ribs. He shrieked as she punched him in the face.
The citizens rushed in again, but Jerry stood between them and the beating. “Guys, why not?”
The people of New Hope pondered the question for a moment, looked to one another, shrugged and walked away.
Jerry grabbed one by the arm, “Where’s the mayor?”
“Here.” The man strode over to Jerry and cast only a glance at the girl beating the man they once trusted. “Thank God you showed up when you did.”
“Actually, I showed up earlier.” Jerry looked to Roy who was only steps behind the mayor.
“Roy!”
Roy began to stammer. Jerry cut him off.
“It doesn’t matter, you don’t have much time.” He was interrupted by a loud groan from Logan.
“You son of a bitch!” Erica had Logan by the hair and was driving his head against the post repeatedly.
The two men stepped a few feet away. Erica’s curses and Logan’s grunts provided the ambient sounds for the conversation.
“The truck will be on its way by now.” Jerry pointed in the truck’s general direction.
The mayor had always done his best to appear a fearless leader, but now, his composure was lost. “Our defenses are useless.”
“You’re not going to need them …”
“Little-prick bastard.” Erica’s insults began coming with heavier breaths.
Logan groaned and lost another tooth.
Jerry crossed the courtyard to get away from the noise.
The mayor followed close behind, pleading for an answer to the situation. “How will we protect the town?”
“You won’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
Jerry finally spotted what he needed across the courtyard. “Does that pickup run?”
“Yes.”
“Good, I’ll need three men. You should probably make it ones you don’t like very much.”
“Now, hold on …”
“Your defenses are rigged. Your weapons are crap. You can’t defend this town. The only chance is to stop the truck before they get here.”
A new style of swearing came from behind them. The two men turned to see that Sarah had joined Erica and was helping her beat Logan. The mayor made a move to stop her. Jerry waved it off, “Let her help. Erica’s hand has got to be getting sore by now.”
The mayor nodded.
“Now, have three men meet me by my coach and get that pickup running.”
The mayor agreed and started barking names to the crowd that had gathered around them.
Jerry pulled Erica and Sarah off of Logan. He received a few kicks for the effort, but the girls relented. Logan had collapsed to the ground; only his shackled hands kept him from being a heap on the ground. Still, he laughed, while grinning through broken teeth and busted lips.
“You’re dead, Bookworm. You can’t stop us now.”
Jerry took a knee in front of the con man.
“I don’t know what these people are going to do to you. But I do know that I’m not going to stop them. How many people have died at your hands? How many towns razed?”
“We’re all just trying to survive out here.”
“Not all of us.”
“You should have seen the look on your face when we marched into that town in Colorado. Everything started breaking. All of your plans collapsing.” Logan laughed. “That look was better than the score we took that day.”
“I’m going to stop them, Logan. No one else will die because of you.”
Jerry turned away. Logan spit blood after him.
Erica was doubled over crying. Her knuckles matched her bloody fingers. He put an arm around her and whispered in her ear, “Erica, it’s going to be okay.”
“How can you say that? You haven’t lost what I have.”
Jerry lifted her chin. “You haven’t lost your family.”
She mocked him, “Oh, sure, they’ll always be with me as long they’re in my heart.”
“Not in your heart. In the trailer behind the truck.”
Her eyes grew wide. She said nothing.
“They weren’t killed. They were taken prisoner.”
She began to sob and smile.
“I’m going to save them.”
She looked at him through puffy eyes and hugged him, “I know you will.” She kissed him on the cheek. She didn’t linger, but there was warmth in her lips that held.
The mayor approached with Roy Tinner and the three volunteers: Carl Parker, Timothy Simmons, and the sheriff.
Roy stuck out his hand. “I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for my behavior when you first arrived.”
“Fuck you, Roy. This is Erica. She was at a town called Vita Nova when the truck rolled through. Please take care of her and my three young friends here.” The boys had finally emerged from the Silver Lining. Austin still wore his mask. The other two peeked out from behind the collars of their bear suits.
“The bears?” Roy asked.
“Yes, Roy, the bears. Why don’t you start filling out some forms?” Jerry moved to the door of the coach.
Alex tugged at his elbow, “But we want to come with you.”
Jerry put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “You boys have done enough. Stay here. Watch Chewy for me.”
Jerry stepped into the coach and emerged a moment later with an armload of weapons and a belt slung over his shoulder. He called the three volunteers and began handing out weapons.
“Who’s driving?”
Carl stepped forward and raised his hand. “The name’s Carl, but people around here call me the Gadgeteer.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Shut up, Timmy.” Carl was disappointed the name hadn’t caught on in the few days Logan was around.
A bulletproof vest struck the Gadgeteer in the face and fell into his hands.
“What’s this?
”
“Body armor.”
Timothy, the whiny councilman, “Why does he get body armor?”
“He needs to live the longest.” Jerry checked his own weapons. Across his chest, he strapped an MP5 he had taken from an abandoned police station. The Colt 1911s were holstered at his waist.
“All right; two in the front and one in the back with me. We’re going stop that truck.”
THIRTY-THREE
The noise created by the massive semi could be heard for miles. Stealth wasn’t a part of its arsenal. The four trailers rattled incessantly as they each found bumps and debris in the road.
The survivors of Vita Nova and two other towns, Hope Pointe and Point Hope, huddled in the prison car. Starving and broken, they no longer looked through the grates of the former pig trailer or at the landscape passing by at forty-five miles an hour.
They also didn’t see the blue and white 4x4 launch up the shoulder of the road until it was right beside them.
“Everyone get to the back of the trailer!” Jerry screamed through the grates. He stood in the back of the pick up with one hand on the light bar and the other holding a .45.
A soldier appeared on top of the trailer ahead of the prison car and opened fire on the truck.
Carl swerved as the bullets began to pour down.
Jerry and the sheriff fired back. The soldier took a bullet in the leg and collapsed from the roof of the trailer. He didn’t fall far. A safety harness snapped taught, slammed the soldier against the side of the trailer, and turned him upside down. Fighting against momentum and the harness itself, he struggled to right himself. His weapon fell to the highway and bounced underneath the wheel of the truck.
“Get to the back!” Jerry shouted again as the other man in the truck bed began firing at more soldiers that had appeared at the roofline of the trailer.
The prisoners were snapped from their stupor and began to rush to the back of the trailer.
Jerry tapped on the back of Carl’s head and the truck sped up. They pulled next to the coupling arm of the prison trailer. Gunshots rang out around him as he holstered the gun and steadied himself to jump.
A right curve in the road caused the rig to veer. The pickup was forced to follow. The sudden turn threw Jerry off balance. He was forced to grab the light bar just to stay in the bed of the truck.
Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors Page 16