Luke's Trek (America Falls Book 5)

by Scott Medbury

  He was unarmed, alone and bruised, but very determined.

  He paused after ten minutes of walking and went into the trees by the side of the road. It only took a minute to find what he was looking for. He stripped the sturdy fallen branch of twigs and swung it through the air experimentally.

  Satisfied and not feeling quite so vulnerable, he set out again. The rudimentary staff wouldn’t do in a fight, but it might just help him fend off a wild animal if he had to.

  ***

  Luke helped as best he could that evening. It was a rough night, very emotional, and he found it hard to sleep when he finally put his head down. When he woke the following day, he didn’t feel refreshed at all but got stuck in to work with the rest of them.

  By his estimation they only had two days, three at the most, before the Brotherhood returned with a bigger, better-equipped force.

  They buried Tommy in the morning and had a small ceremony, which was basically Diana saying the Lord’s Prayer over his freshly dug grave. It was raw and painful and Luke, who had thought himself all cried out over Brooke and the baby, found himself weeping along with the rest of them.

  They had a feast in honor of Tommy afterwards. It eased things a little, with people telling anecdotes about him and having some laughs. Cathy produced half a bottle of whiskey from nowhere and the adults shared it. Hoping Diana’s pain was now dulled a little, Luke finally worked up the courage to go and speak to her about their plans.

  Apparently, it wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have, and she bustled away when he approached.

  “I think we’ll unload the carts, tomorrow,” she said. “I need to lay down.”

  Luke watched her head inside. He understood her wanting to be alone. Grief did that to you, but he also had the feeling she was trying to avoid talking about their next steps.

  Luke took a walk. They had unhitched the horses the night before and led them out to graze in a part of the subdivision where more lots had been pegged out, back before the end of the world… before the happiest little community in Maine could be finished.

  He spent a bit of time patting and talking to them, enjoying some alone time himself.

  ***

  Taylor whistled an old song as he walked. He’d forgotten its title, but knew an English guy called Ed Sheeran had sung it. He’d really liked that guy’s songs and wondered briefly what happened to him when the Pyongyang Flu had swept across America.

  Maybe he’d been back in England when it all went down? And who knew what happened over there. Maybe he was alive and still making music somewhere. The thought that the rest of the world had carried on while they suffered wasn’t comforting at all. It was depressing. He didn’t believe it though. If the rest of the world had been unchanged, surely somebody would have come to their aid by now.

  At least to the East Coast. They would…

  “Brother Taylor.”

  Taylor froze. He didn’t see Senior Brother Jarryd until he moved, a darker shadow among the shadows in the trees to his right.

  The older man approached. A smile on his face. His arms open.

  “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

  When he left Willatan Green, Taylor had been keen to talk to his mentor. To ask him why. When he saw him though, anger flooded him. He had been left to die. There was no explanation Jarryd could give that would satisfy. He stiffened as the Senior Brother’s arms encircled him.

  “No thanks to you.”

  The other man released him immediately, the flash of anger in his eyes unmistakable.

  “What did you say, Brother Taylor?”

  Normally, the tone and dangerous look in Jarryd’s eyes would have intimidated him, but on this occasion, Taylor would not be cowed. The feelings of betrayal and anger were too much.

  “You left me to die, you fucker. You – you – you coward!”

  “You should watch your tongue, Brother Taylor. I am your senior. I will forgive you this time…”

  Taylor guffawed.

  “You’ll forgive me!?”

  He pushed past Jarryd and called over his shoulder as he started walking away. “Don’t think the Council won’t hear about this, coward.”

  Unseen by Brother Taylor, the spark of anger in Jarryd’s eyes ignited into an inferno. He reached into the deep pocket of his robe. Cold steel glinted in his hand as he silently padded after Brother Taylor.

  25

  “I think we should abandon Willatan Green,” Luke said to Diana as they ate vegetable stew by the heat of the fire that night.

  Jacob and a younger boy called Danny ceased the conversation they were having to listen.

  “No.”

  It was said with a finality that didn’t brook arguing. He ploughed on anyway.

  “Diana, they’ll be back, you know they will. And this time they won’t just be carrying staffs.”

  “I know,” she said, picking up a stick and throwing it on the fire. “You were right with what you said before though. We should have fought them long ago. What kind of life have we got if we don’t? We’re as good as slaves in our own homes.”

  “Live free or die, huh?”

  “Yep. This time we’re gonna fight. I’m sick of cowering every time those bastards roll up and take half of what we grew with our own hands.”

  “I understand, but there aren’t that many of you and you only have a handful of weapons. I know a place we can all go. I guarantee they’ll take all of you in.”

  “You want us to live with your people?”

  He nodded.

  “If it’s so good there, why aren’t you with them instead of here?”

  He didn’t speak for a moment.

  “It’s complicated,” he said, finally.

  She regarded him silently then her face softened.

  “Well you left for a reason. What makes you think they’d take us in, or that they’d even be there when we got there? Maybe the Brotherhood has found them too.”

  “Nah,” he said, kicking a hot coal that fell out of the fire. “They haven’t spread that far and trust me, if they had, it wouldn’t have ended well for them.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Not leaving.”

  “Diana,” he said, “I really don’t think it’s a good idea and with every hour we waste, our chances of getting away clean get less.”

  “Not we. Us. This is not your fight.”

  “You’re right,” he said, unable to help feeling a little hurt at her words. “Although I think I made it mine when I killed two of their guys today. You need to see reason. I will be going. But you should all come with me. You’ll be welcomed. They’re good people.”

  “You’re right,” she snapped. “You should go. First thing. We’re staying right here though. And we’re fighting!”

  “Yeah!” yelled Jacob. “Let’s mess them up the way they messed up Tommy!”

  And you’ll all die! Luke wanted to scream.

  He didn’t. He didn’t allow his frustration to poison the debate. He decided not to argue. Maybe she would see sense in the morning.

  He stood up and tipped the remains of his soup into the fire.

  “Thanks for the eats. I’m going to bed.”

  26

  The sound of a child laughing woke Luke the next morning. He sat up on the sofa in Diana’s living room and rubbed his face. It was coming from the backyard. He got up and walked through to the kitchen and looked through the window.

  In the early sunlight, Diana was pushing Sam on a rickety old swing set. She looked lost in thought. The kid was oblivious and having a great time.

  “Harder, Mom! Higher!”

  Luke marveled at the resilience of children. Here was a kid, forced to be older than his years, and who had literally seen the worst the world could throw at him in the last 24 hours, and he was still smiling at something as simple as being pushed on a swing.

  “Hey Luke!” he called.

  Luke waved and returned the small smile Diana gave him, then went outside to join them.
>
  “Morning,” he said.

  Diana’s eyes were puffy, her complexion pale. Clearly, she hadn’t had the best night’s sleep.

  “He’s having fun,” said Luke standing next to her and looking back at the house.

  “Yeah.”

  “Pity he’ll be dead in in a couple of days.”

  His terrible words hung in the air for a few seconds, Luke almost as shocked he’d spoken them aloud as Diana was to hear them.

  “What?” asked Sammy over the creak, creak, creak, of the swing.

  Diana rounded on him, tears welling in her eyes, and slapped him hard across the face.

  “How! Fucking! Dare! You!”

  Each word was punctuated by another slap. Luke winced with every blow but didn’t try to stop her. He deserved it. It had been a bastard of a thing to say. He hadn’t thought the words through before he uttered them. They just seemed to come from nowhere. Now that they were out though, if horrible words made her see sense, maybe it was worth the pain.

  Now it was her words that hung in the air as she glared at him furiously.

  “Mom?”

  That one word broke her. She ran inside sobbing as they both stared after her.

  “Why did Mom hit you?” Sam asked, as Luke pushed him gently in the back to get him started again.

  “I said something that upset her, buddy. Don’t worry, it’ll be okay.”

  His words belied the sick feeling in his gut. He felt like he had just ruined any chance he had of talking Diana out of her suicidal decision to stay and fight.

  ***

  Brother Taylor didn’t know he was in trouble until the violent blow to his neck. It was heavy and sent a searing pain that speared down his spine and into his head. He lost consciousness even as he felt himself begin to fall.

  He opened his eyes sometime later and found himself struggling to breathe. He closed his eyes. Something was wrong. Badly wrong.

  Jarryd?

  He tried to speak but couldn’t draw enough breath to say even that one word. He closed his eyes.

  What the hell did he hit me with?

  Taylor was face down in the dirt, his cheek resting painfully against a half-buried stone. He didn’t try to move. Just took stock for now. The pain in the back of his neck pulsed with each beat of his heart. It was sharp and searing at the same time, like someone was sawing through his neck with a hacksaw.

  His lungs burned through lack of oxygen.

  “Sorry Brother Taylor. You weren’t supposed to wake from that.”

  Jarryd’s voice was close, and Taylor started to panic. He tried to move his head, only to be rewarded with another jagged shock of agony from his neck and head.

  “You shouldn’t try to move, Taylor.” Jarryd’s sandaled feet came into his view. “You can’t, even if you want to, your spinal cord is severed between the C3 and C4 vertebrae.”

  The Senior Brother knelt beside him, bending over to look him in the eye.

  “My father was a surgeon; did I ever tell you that?”

  Taylor tried to move again. Nothing. Except the losing struggle to breathe. With each shallow, labored breath, small clouds of dirt puffed from the ground in front of his mouth.

  Jarryd winced and sat back on his heels.

  “I can see that hurts,” he said in a regretful voice. “I wish you hadn’t been so judgmental, Brother Taylor. You really fucked up.”

  Taylor, even in his shocked state, was surprised at the obscenity from the most pious of the Brothers he knew.

  “We could have been headed back by now. But no, you had to be all upset. Nevertheless, I know it’s not all your doing. Those fuckers back at Willatan Green will pay, I promise you. I have something very special planned for them. Now though, it’s time to say goodbye.”

  He placed a cool, calloused hand on his former mentee’s forehead.

  “I will pray for you.”

  FUCK YOU! Taylor tried to scream but all that came out was a weak exhalation.

  Jarryd began to pray.

  Exhausted, his lungs burning, Taylor wondered how he could never have suspected Jarryd was a psychopath. It was so clear now…

  “In your hands, O Lord,

  I humbly entrust our brother, Taylor

  In this life you embraced him with your tender love;

  deliver him now from every evil

  and bid him eternal rest.”

  Taylor spied the knife in Jarryd’s clasped, blood-stained hands. The murder weapon. His murderer’s weapon.

  “The old order has passed away:

  welcome Taylor into paradise,

  where there will be no sorrow, no weeping or pain.”

  Rot in Hell, you bastard.

  The murderous hands parted, and his tormentor bent over him. A fat tear formed in Taylor’s eye as the blade pricked him sharply in the neck. Blood spurted from his neck in great pumping spurts of crimson.

  Rot in Hell.

  “But fullness of peace and joy

  with your Son and the Holy Spirit

  forever and ever.”

  Rot in…

  Taylor’s vision faded to black.

  “Amen.”

  Senior Brother Jarryd, son of a surgeon in his previous life, stood up and looked down at the dead body of Brother Taylor. He could have been looking at a dead animal by the side of the road for all the emotion he showed.

  Then his face twisted and he lashed out with his foot, kicking the body of Brother Taylor repeatedly in a vicious frenzy.

  “Look what you made me do!” he grated, when he was done.

  He stood until his breathing was back under control, then slipped his knife away. He straightened his habit and picked up his staff before looking down at the still warm corpse.

  “No Christian burial for you,” he sniffed, and then walked back onto the road to continue his journey home.

  27

  An hour after Luke had gone outside and spoken his harsh words, the whole town gathered around the fire to hear Diana speak about what would happen next.

  There was no sign of the tears she had shed earlier. In fact, she looked resolute. Resolute but tired. Had his harsh words changed her mind? He doubted it.

  When everyone who was coming was present, Diana nodded to Jacob. His harsh whistle silenced the group and Diana stepped up onto a sturdy wooden chair.

  “You know why we’re here. Yesterday, the Brotherhood killed Tommy and would have killed the rest of us if Luke hadn’t arrived.”

  Whistles. Pats on the back. Wasted. The lives saved yesterday would mean nothing if they stayed.

  “They’ll be back though. So, we have to get ready to fight for our lives…”

  Disappointment and dread washed over Luke and he shook his head, his last hope dashed. He stared at the ground in defeat as some in the crowd whooped and hollered.

  “… or, we run for our lives. And fight another day.”

  The crowd, not expecting this option, began to buzz and Luke looked up in surprise. Diana was looking at him, then she nodded, her face expressionless.

  “Luke has something to say.”

  He hadn’t expected this at all, but after he recovered from the initial surprise, he stood up ready to make the most of the opportunity.

  “Hey everyone. I want to start by saying I understand why some of you want to stay and fight. The Brotherhood has been bad for you. No, not bad. Terrible. They’ve taken your people and worse, killed those who fought them, like Tommy… and Steve before him.”

  Diana lowered her head and hugged her son Samuel tighter.

  “I know that I asked why you didn’t fight them long ago. That was before I knew what they were capable of, and how many of them there are.

  “Now I like a fight as much as anyone, especially against bullies. But one thing I’ve learned is, you have to pick your fights and, the fact is, you don’t have the numbers or the weapons to fight the Brotherhood. If you stay, you’ll all die.”

  Luke knew from the looks that they were
giving each other that his words were having an impact. Would it be enough? He stepped forward to where a mother stood with her daughter of about eight. He pointed at the daughter’s forehead.

  “You’ll die.”

  The girl began to cry, and he pointed at the mother.

  “You’ll die.”