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Deadland 02: Harvest

Page 14

by Aukes, Rachel


  “I wish we had a better place to secure all the vehicles,” Jase said. “It sucks leaving them out in the open like that.”

  The vehicles, still laden with anything worth taking from the park, had been backed into a semi-circle around the dock to both protect the small boat ramp as well as enable efficient unloading. Soon, everything on the vehicles would be moved onto the Aurora, though I suspected loading the livestock on the pontoons would make for an entertaining afternoon show.

  I pointed to the tree line near the dock. “Tyler thought we’d park them just off the road by the woods.”

  “We could try to camouflage them,” Jase said. “Even so, I don’t see how we can possibly hide an entire convoy. Is Tyler planning on keeping at least one scout on land to keep an eye on them?”

  “I think so.” I thought of long, cold nights outside ahead of us and shivered.

  “Until the herds come,” Nikki added. “Then you’d better hope there’s no one still there.”

  Being reminded of the reason for this journey quickly sobered me. “Yeah. Until the herds come.”

  “Let me see, Jase,” Nikki said.

  I glanced away from my scope to see Nikki holding out her hand. Jase handed her his binoculars. After several long moments, her mouth slowly dropped open. “My God, it looks like the Army is moving in. How much stuff are you guys moving?”

  “Stuff?” I shrugged. “Just the usual. Anything we can eat or use, we’re bringing onto the barge to keep it safe.”

  Nikki watched me for a moment before looking through the binoculars again. “You should be careful. The more you have, the more you have to lose.”

  Chapter XIV

  Nikki Sorenson’s words pierced any hope I had at sleeping. It wasn’t so much what she’d said. It was how she’d said it, like she was taunting us at how much we had to lose, like she knew something we didn’t. Or it could’ve been just another one of her catty remarks. Unlikely the former, probably the latter.

  I tossed and turned in my bunk, trying not to wake anyone else in the crew quarters below decks, which had become the new residence of Camp Fox’s scouts. We filled up all eighteen beds, and eleven of the bunks were shared by scouts working alternating shifts. Using the crew quarters made it easier to rotate shifts than bunking with the civvies in the large, steel Number One barge, which would add at least five minutes onto any scout’s response time.

  The four barges closest to the towboat were in good shape, and two of Sorenson’s people had been busy moving enough grain from the barges closest to the towboat to the barges further away so that we could use some of the areas for the general residence and livestock. Finding eight barges of grain, with most of it not rotten, was a goldmine. Of course, Sorenson’s guy immediately claimed one hundred percent rights to the grain, but fortunately, Tyler talked him down to fifty percent more quickly than I’d expected.

  Giving up on the idea of sleep, I shoved the blanket off me, sat up, and climbed out from the bottom bunk that had belonged to one of the towboat’s previous crew. Probably one I’d shot.

  From the top bunk, Jase rolled over. “What’s up?” he asked, sounding wide awake.

  “I’m going to check on the Number Three barge,” I said softly so I wouldn’t wake anyone in the crew quarters. “Something Nikki said earlier. I just need to make sure everything’s secure. Then I’ll be right back.”

  Jase sat up. “So it wasn’t just me. Yeah, I got a bad vibe, too. How about I join you.”

  “Thanks.” I reached up and grabbed my belt that hung off the corner of my bunk and latched it around my waist. By the time I’d finished fastening my holster and sheath, Jase was armed and ready to go. We headed up the stairs and into the galley, which made up the entire first level of the towboat. A lantern was lit on a table in the center, and Frost was reading a paperback that had seen better days. Diesel was missing and likely serving as a bed for Benji like the dog did every night.

  “Where are you two going?”

  I turned to see Clutch watching us from the couch that he’d turned into his bed. It was too much hassle for him to sleep downstairs in the crew quarters. He had regained minimal coordinating movement in his legs and still struggled with stairs. Every day, he made it a few more steps with crutches than the day before, but it was clearly exhausting for him.

  I rolled my eyes. “Is everyone awake on this boat?”

  “We’re going to check out barge Three,” Jase said.

  He sat up. “Barge Three? Why?”

  “We both had a feeling,” I said simply.

  “I’m coming, too,” he said, tugging his legs over the edge of the bed.

  “You don’t have to,” I said. “It’s probably nothing. Just a suspicion that’s been nagging me.”

  Clutch slid onto his wheelchair and grabbed his crutches. “And if it’s not?” He took the lead, and wheeled out of the galley. Frost never even looked up from his book, though I’m sure he’d listened to every word.

  As we crossed the deck of the towboat, I looked up at the bridge to see Tyler drinking coffee as he went through papers. He should’ve been sound asleep by now, but he was one of those folks that felt the need to always be in control. He bore all the weight of Camp Fox on his shoulders. Sometimes, I thought he was afraid the community would collapse without his leadership. Maybe he was our white knight. But maybe he just needed to have faith in the community we all had a hand in building.

  I tripped over Clutch’s chair and barely caught myself from tumbling over him. “Oomph. Sorry,” I muttered.

  “Graceful,” Jase teased with a grin, his white teeth easily seen in the starlit night.

  With a sigh, I saw the large, rectangular-shaped barges in the night sky. The general residence had been set up in Number One, the barge closest to the island and in the row of the four closest to the towboat, making it the safest barge from any bandits who might come across the highway bridge and notice us. Make-shift wood plank bridges had been built from the towboat to each barge. None of the barges were cozy by any stretch, but they would work.

  Next to One, Number Two was our commons area. Numbers Two and Three were the easiest to get to from the towboat for a reason. As we crossed the manmade bridge of two-by-sixes to Number Three, Clutch’s wheelchair made a nearly-silent rolling sound over the wood, while Jase’s and my boot steps made thumps in the night.

  Number Three held all our stockpile of canned and dried food, weapons, and other supplies. It was our own Fort Knox, making it critical that we could get to it easily from the towboat. To its right, the livestock was set up in Number Four, the barge facing the highway bridge. Cattle mooed softly in the night air. If the livestock were any closer, people would constantly complain about the smell.

  The second row of barges wasn’t used except for storing grain. Number Five, on just the other side of Number One, had hit the island at the wrong angle, and its hull had been compromised. Grain had dumped out onto the ground. The remaining three viable barges were full of precious grain. When we’d discovered it yesterday, we danced like maniacs and whooped like fools. For the first time, we knew with confidence that we’d get through the winter, let alone spring and summer, without starving. We’d get sick of grain and likely have some serious nutritional deficiencies, but we’d survive.

  As we approached the wide opening to Three, our steps became softer and slower. I could hear nothing out of the ordinary. In the distance, Kurt waved before turning back to his guard duty. Wes had opened the bays to the first row of barges to air them out of the dangerous grain dust.

  Jase looked down the narrow, metal stairway, pulled out his rifle, and clicked on his flashlight. “I’ll take lead.”

  Clutch pulled up to the edge of the open bay. He set his crutches on the deck next to him and laid his rifle on his lap. “If either of you see anything suspicious, flash your lights in my direction.”

  I pulled out my sidearm and snapped the small flashlight onto it. The Glock and all its accessories had be
en a surprise from Tyler for my birthday. I think it was his way to finally show that he wasn’t angry with me anymore for leaving him behind when I went after Doyle on my own. I peered into the darkness, my nerves making my senses hyper-sensitive. “It looks quiet down there. Knock on wood, everything will be just fine and we’ll be back in bed in no time.”

  Clutch narrowed his eyes at me. After a moment, I shrugged and couldn’t help but smirk at his superstitious nature. He was a firm believer that if any of us said something would be easy, it was sure to have problems. Just because he was right most of the time only made the superstition a coincidence, not a fact.

  Oh, and Clutch also didn’t believe in coincidences.

  Jase gave me a slow shake of his head before taking the first step into the barge. I followed him down the steps, slowly scanning the floor and pallets with my mounted flashlight. Nothing seemed out of place. No tarps had been torn off. No supplies were scattered. The tension in my muscles eased. My imagination had been working overtime. Everything was fine. I’d been overreacting.

  As I reached the last step, I could make out an almost imperceptible, powered hum, and I frowned. “Do you hear that?” I whispered.

  Jase paused and looked at me and then did a three-sixty. “Yeah,” He replied just as quietly. “Sounds like it’s coming from that way.” He pointed with his flashlight and led us toward the long side of the barge.

  Wes had gotten the engines running, but they weren’t running right now, and there were no generators running on this barge. Tyler had mandated we needed to save power until we found more fuel and the temperatures dipped below freezing. There were several small gas-powered generators spread across the barges to help with lighting, cooking, and plumbing, but there should be none in a barge being used only for storage. Yet, the noise grew as we drew closer.

  “What the hell is a generator doing on down here?” Jase asked.

  My eyes narrowed on a tarp against the wall. Unlike the other tarps that sat squarely over pallets, this one seemed misshapen and tight against the side of the hull. There, on the edges of the tarp, warm light bled through the edges of the tarp.

  “I don’t like this.” I raised my Glock and turned the light on and off three times. A light from the deck above did the same back at us.

  Jase turned off his light to have both hands on his rifle. Seconds later, I heard the sounds of boots pounding down the steps.

  The tarp moved, and a masculine shape crawled out from under it. “Lay off. I said I’ll check it out.”

  As he stood, I leveled the light in his eyes. “Don’t move!”

  Philip from the Lady Amore held a hand over his eyes, and then spun around. “Run!”

  The tarp was thrown open and two more shapes bolted out.

  Jase stepped up to Philip and coldcocked him with the butt of his rifle. The man fell to the ground with a solid thud. The other two ran behind pallets, and we both took off after them.

  Jase quickly took the lead and cut between the pallets while I ran straight ahead and took the next chance to get behind the pallets just in time to see Jase tackle a smaller shape.

  As he yanked her to her feet, I noticed it was Nikki.

  My mouth dropped. Son of a bitch.

  “I’ve got her,” Jase said. “Quit wiggling, dammit.”

  “Do you need help?” I asked, glaring at the woman.

  “No, I’ve got it covered,” he quickly replied.

  “Right!” I took off running in the direction the two had been headed. When I reached the end of the barge, I made a hard right and climbed over a pallet of boxes. Pain shot through my scarred leg, reminding me that it wasn’t fully healed. I needn’t have hurried. Several feet away, Kurt had Bill from Sorenson’s crew restrained, while another scout was dragging an unconscious Philip across the shadowed floor.

  I headed back to Jase to make sure he had Nikki under control. She must not have behaved, because he now carried her lax form over his shoulder. “The other two guys are secure,” I said. “I’ll check the generator.”

  I jogged toward the tarp now hanging limply off to one side. Under it sat two work lights and the small, still-running generator they’d snagged from somewhere. Hooked up to it was the acetylene torch I’d seen Wes use many times. Confused, I went down on a knee and examined the wall of the barge. Chalk lines were drawn to make a large square on the wall, large enough to slide a crate through. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered and jumped to my feet.

  I zigged and zagged around pallets and up the steps to the deck, where a small crowd had gathered near the open bay to barge Three. Tyler stood next to Clutch in his wheelchair.

  Bill and Philip stood before them, while Nikki—held tight by Jase and Tack—was just coming to.

  “—too busy doing whatever it was they were doing, they didn’t even see us coming,” I heard Jase tell Tyler and Clutch as I approached.

  “They were going to cut a hole through the hull!” I said breathlessly. In spring, when the water levels would rise, the barge would likely flood. Until then, where the barge was currently located, it made a perfect exit point for dropping supplies onto a small boat hidden between the barges below. “These bastards were going to rob us.”

  Frost shook his head slowly. “With all the grain dust around here, they would’ve set the whole barge on fire.”

  Tyler cocked his head at the three prisoners. “I made a generous deal with Sorenson for your time and assistance. Tonight, you’ve broken a trust between our communities. We have zero tolerance for theft.”

  “It’s not like you don’t have enough to share,” Nikki spat out.

  Clutch guffawed. “Does it look like we’re any better off than you? We’ve had to completely uproot our home and are camping on a shipwreck.”

  “That barge is full of food and ammunition. I’ve never seen so much in my life,” she retorted.

  “Aside from sharing the location of this shelter, the Lady Amore crew hasn’t offered my people a single thing without demanding heavy payment in return,” Tyler said, his voice steady and calm but laced with anger.

  “You don’t understand. We are struggling to get by,” Bill said. “Every day, we don’t know if we’re going to find more diesel or more food.”

  “Grow a pair,” Clutch scolded. “We’re all fighting to survive here. The world’s a shithole. Deal with it.”

  Nikki grunted and twisted out of her captors’ grasp and sprinted forward. Tack reached for her, but she jumped to the side. She must’ve twisted her ankle because she tumbled down and fell partway over the edge. Jase lunged after her, sliding on his belly to grab her, but she swung him away, loosening her hold, and she plummeted into the darkness below.

  “Nikki!” Bill shouted.

  Her scream was cut off by the sound of her body hitting the hard steel floor nearly twenty feet below. No one ran down to check on her. A drop from this height wasn’t just deadly, it would’ve been messy deadly.

  Everyone stood in stunned silence.

  “What the hell just happened?” Tyler asked.

  Jase climbed to his feet. “I don’t know. She’d been standing so still. Then she just freaked out and tore away.”

  “You killed her!” Bill yelled, trying to lunge forward, but his scouts yanked him back.

  “No,” Tyler said harshly. “It was an accident. You saw for yourself.”

  “The captain’s not going to see it that way,” Philip said quietly. “That’s his daughter down there.”

  Clutch grabbed his crutches and pulled himself to his feet. “He’s going to see it that way because you’re going to tell him the truth. You’re going to tell him what you were doing here and exactly what happened. I’m going with you to make sure you do.”

  Tack stepped forward. “No, Clutch.” He sighed. “I need to go. She was mine to watch.”

  “Bullshit,” Jase said. “She was as much my responsibility. I’m going.”

  Tyler watched Tack and Jase for a moment before speaking. “Okay,
by morning, the Lady Amore shouldn’t be more than thirty miles or so south of here. You are both going, but under no conditions are you to board the Lady Amore. You drop Sorenson’s daughter and his men in a raft and double-time it out of there. I’ll write a note to make sure he knows the truth. It’s our only shot at keeping our trade agreement. Whatever you do, don’t let them get a bead on you. That’s Sorenson’s daughter lying on the bottom of Number Three. I don’t trust him to be rational when he sees her. You drop the package and run. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir,” they both replied.

  “You-you can’t just dump us in the water,” Philip said. “There are zeds in the water. If it’s shallow at all—”

  “You should’ve thought of that before you tried to steal from us,” Tyler interrupted. “The only reason I’m allowing you to return to the Lady Amore—instead of staying on the Aurora for trial—is because of our trade agreement.”

  “Just let us go,” Bill cried out. “We’ll tell the Captain the truth. I mean it. You don’t have to worry about anything. Please. Just let us go. Nothing will happen. I swear!”

  Tyler ignored Bill’s pleas and instead looked at the scouts holding the thieves. “Get these two out of my sight. Put them in the galley for tonight and keep at least four armed scouts on them at all times.” He then looked to all of us. “I need volunteers to prep Sorenson’s daughter for the trip in the morning.”

  Deb, one of the Fox survivors who volunteered for everything, unsurprisingly stepped forward. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I’ll help,” Tack said in a rush.

  Deb gave him a sweet smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

  As the two headed into the barge, I couldn’t help but grin. Deb may have been ten years his senior, but Tack didn’t seem to care. The two had hit it off the moment she’d arrived at the park, and even though they thought they were hiding their relationship, everyone knew about it.

  The crowd dissipated.

  “I’m going to hit the sack,” Jase said, sounding utterly exhausted. “I’m guessing Tyler is going to want us to get those guys off the Aurora at the crack of dawn.

 

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