by Fore, Jon
"Boy-howdy," was all he said.
"I feel it too, but I kind of think it's because we are so close. Finally, we are so close." Maria's voice was still thick with her nap, and she yawned and stretched to prove it.
"Do you think it's bad?” Vega asked, leaning back against the ruined upholstery.
"Nah, I don't," Jackson said.
"I can't tell. Something is about to happen, for sure," Maria said.
"I think it’s just because we've been trying to get here for a month now, and we are almost here." Although Vega offered the reason to the others, her heart wouldn't completely invest itself.
"We're here," Jackson said, and started to slow the car with a gentle break. Then he slammed them on, stopping the car hard.
The tires screamed at him once, then Vega grabbed the headrest to steady herself. Before she could ask what the hell he was doing, she saw the cowboy. In the middle of New Jersey, in the middle of Armageddon, there was a fucking cowboy riding a horse down the street towards Jackson's junk yard.
Chapter 27
Gabriel was afraid to move the horses faster on the black top, and there wasn't any soft ground to ride on to either side. The horses shoes hadn't been adjusted or replaced in too long a time, and a thrown shoe or a cracked hoof would be disastrous now that he had Amelia. Walking from here to Virginia or even more south than that wouldn't happen on foot. No question about that.
Still, they moved at a pretty good clip, north on Route 9, looking at the shops of the over populated strip malls. These buildings were ransacked and vandalized. Not as bad as whatever town Amelia came from, but bad enough. These shops were cement and cinderblock. They weathered the fires much better than the Colonial style wooden shops of Amelia's hometown. But, the broken display window on every other store looked like missing teeth in a boxer’s mouth, a boxer who hadn't had the stones to last the fight.
The street was, for the most part, level and flat. It crumbled chaotically, and was patched with the same paradigm, but a car tire wouldn't know the difference. Hell, if they laid a coat of black paint, this road would look brand new, if not for the cracked sidewalks being assaulted by weeds. Now those weeds were browned and flaccid stalks, bowing their heads in defeat. And like everywhere else so far, this area was dead silent, dead smelling, and damn spooky. 'Could we be the last people on Earth?'
'Damn right, Marine. Now get your shit together,' The mental sergeant said.
'You're back...'
"Never left. We never leave a Marine behind.'
Gabriel felt the sloping hill they were climbing relent, and that led expectantly to a sloping downgrade. At the bottom of the hill hung a stop light at an intersection and a corpse from its neck. On either side were gas stations, one on the North bound, the other on the South bound lanes. Beyond that was a small shop, it actually partially collapsed and leaning in a shrugged indifference. Past that, again on the right, was what looked like a 50's era diner.
As they drew closer, Gabriel looked the hanging man over. He was a kid, really. One of those fatalist stoner types in loose worn jeans, a torn black t-shirt, and a face just as black. His black and white high top canvas basketball shoes were on the ground beneath him, one right-side up, the other laying impudently on its side. The corpse did not sway on its rope, but hung perfectly still, its eye sockets wide and empty. Gabriel was sure a pack of crows had come across the corpse when it was fresh, and feasted. What he wasn't sure of was how the kid made it up there to hang himself, and if he had done it alone, how the hell his head didn't come off when he hit the knot in the rope.
Amelia made a whimpering sound, a sound that told Gabriel the sightseeing was now over. He took a right turn at the cross roads, heading back east, or so he figured. The building to his right had turned out to be the remains of some small hardware store, a private kind of store shingled in bare wood. The majority of the structure had collapsed, been pulled down, the sign with it.
On the other side of the street was a heavily chromed building, obviously a diner, with all but one of its plate glass windows shattered. Some appeared to be missing completely. Inside was drenched in thick shadows and darkness but for a single chrome appliance, its head sticking up from what looked like the surface of a counter. The rest remained shrouded and most likely, destroyed.
There was a cop car parked--if the way it was aimed could be called 'parked'--in the front. The large sign, this one reading 'Manalapan Diner' lay on its side, the pole that once held it twisted and crimped near the base. It looked like something grabbed the sign pole and pulled it down with the brute strength of bare hands. Bare hands with claws.
As they passed these two buildings, Gabriel could see a small nondescript hatchback behind the hardware store, most of it buried in the rubble of the building's collapse. Behind the cinderblock back of the diner was a white sedan, which might have been a cop's unmarked car. That, or something bought at a police auction. Either way, it didn't matter, and there wasn't enough light to see it clearly.
The road was barren on either side for a couple of blocks, then some rather old houses loomed out of the darkness. They looked old, perhaps Civil War if not older. Considering the history of New Jersey, this didn't surprise Gabriel in the least. They were spaced wide, enough room between each house to fit another house. In most of these spaces were fences, always a different style, almost all painted the same color as the house they enclosed. Large sections of the fencing had been pulled down, some in multiple places. Almost as if the area was pillaged during the invasion.
A large empty field opened to the right, at least for as far as Gabriel could see in the dark. To the left was a corrugated metal wall. More like a fence than a solid wall, but it still hid whatever it was supposed to hide. Whatever that was had to be industrial in some way. Nobody put something like this around their house, not with a field across the road, not with this single hermit-like mailbox on the other side.
"Car," Amelia said in a calm distracted voice. It was the way kids announced that a car was coming during a game of stickball, not at the end of the world. At least, this was Gabriel's first thought. He spun his head around to the road, and at the same instant he saw the headlights he heard the panicked screech of tires. He pulled the reins hard, stopping Lance just as quickly, and wrapped his hand around his revolver.
The car just sat there, as if considering him with headlight eyes, and Gabriel felt his heart beginning to work overtime. 'Calm down, slow your breathing, force your heart to slow down...' he said to himself, seeking that place in his head where the killing could happen.
A door opened on the driver side, and a figure eased out of the seat. To Gabriel, it looked like a sedan giving birth to a rhinoceros. The figure stood slow, easy, and large hands extended out almost as if he wanted a hug. From here, it was hard to see, but as he stepped before the headlights, Gabriel could tell that this man was easily the biggest guy he had ever seen. Then another figure stepped from the car.
This one was much smaller, slender and obviously female. The passenger side door opened slowly, screaming through disuse and rust, and an even smaller figure got out, standing behind the door.
"Are you real?” A deep baritone voice called.
"Are you?” Gabriel called back.
"Boy-howdy," the the big guy answered, then the first feminine figure stepped into the glare of the headlights.
Gabriel felt his heart drop, bounce threateningly off his bladder and rush to his throat. It was the flame headed girl, and that couldn't fucking be. He turned to Amelia, "You stay here, Amelia. I'm going to go talk to these people, see what they're up to."
"Okay.” She said in a tiny voice.
"Fug, keep an eye on her," he said, and worked the reins from the pommel of his saddle. He let these drop, then started Lance forward at a slow walk. Steering with his left hand, he kept his right on the butt of the gun. It took him close to a minute to cover the distance, then he stopped, almost looking the big guy in the eye.
He
was a good looking man, short hair, clear eyes, smooth skin. He smiled a little, "It's nice to see another person, boy-howdy. I'm Jackson, Jackson Jackson, and these are my friends."
Gabriel's eyes were locked on the woman, "I know you."
"I don't know you." She spoke with a confidence that did justice to the uniform she wore.
"I saw you. In... my head."
"I did too," the man called Jackson Jackson said.
"So did I.” The other lady said.
Gabriel looked to find not a lady, but a girl. Another person with vibrant skin, clear eyes, luxurious hair and curves that would drive a formula one driver mad. In the midst of the end of the world, he had found three of the best looking people he had ever laid eyes on. If not for the Army uniform, Military Police no less, he would have thought they broke out of a besieged modeling school somewhere. But the two just didn't drag the attention out of him like the flame headed girl. He realized he didn't answer the introduction. "I'm Gabriel, Gabriel Ludlow. That there is Amelia. I picked her up in Connecticut."
"I'm Maria," the girl said.
Gabriel spared her another look and a nod.
"I'm Vega."
Her name, one of the brightest stars in the sky, seemed to fit the cop perfectly. "Why did I see you."
"I don't know." Again, she spoke with that same nearly arrogant confidence.
"Could he be the other one?” Maria asked. "He looks like he would fit right in."
"I don't know," Vega said, "Why are you here, Mr. Ludlow?"
Gabriel considered for a moment, drinking in the reality of her, wondering if he was actually drinking from a well of sanity long gone dry. "We are trying to get south, maybe Virginia.” He looked up at Amelia to make sure she was still alright. Fug sat next to her on the road, and the girl stared. She was maybe fifteen yards away, and safe enough for now. "We figured there was a battle line somewhere, and we wanted to get our asses on the other side of it. Why are you here?"
The three looked at each other, as if sharing something in the silence. Slowly the girl nodded at Vega, then the big guy. Vega looked back up at him, "Maybe we should go inside and have a talk."
"Inside where?"
"This is my junkyard. Right here. We came to get something.” Jackson said.
"Something I bet you'll be interested in," Maria said, her head tilted in a sexy way.
Gabriel reasoned this kid couldn't tilt her head in a way that wasn't sexy. Then the kid went ahead and bit her lower lip, as if an afterthought.
"Come in with us. Bring the child.” Vega said to him, and he felt completely compelled to do just that. He had the will to refuse, but her request was unreasonably... influential. Why not? He couldn't come up with a reason.
He turned Lance around, and rode back up to Amelia. "I think we might have found some new friends," he said as he leaned over and fished Big Guy's reins from the bit in the horse’s mouth. "We are going to go in and talk to them. Is that okay?"
"Okay," Amelia said.
"Listen though, if anything... happens. I need you to do exactly what I say."
Amelia considered him with eyes too old, too wise, "Okay."
They rode back down to Jackson who was hauling the large metal door open, revealing what appeared to be a field of scrap metal, centered with a small silver trailer.
Lance waited for the two women, the girl and Vega really, to pass through before leading the horses into the yard. Then the man came in and hauled the door closed again with much more noise than Gabriel would have wanted.
"I don't smell anything.” Maria said.
"Yeah, me neither.” Vega said.
"Good. I got some food I think, and, ah, crap. Forgot the heater. Be right back." Jackson hauled the door open again, just wide enough for him to get through, then he fell backwards as if stuck by something.
"Jackson!” Mari screamed.
Gabriel saw the dog thing at the gate, drew, and fired into its muzzle, right over the prone Jackson.
What the others saw Gabriel do was too fast for them to understand, at least immediately. Vega yanked her weapon free and began running towards Jackson and Gabriel shot again. "Stay down!” He shouted.
Vega fell to her chest as a third dog-thing appeared. Gabriel pulled his second revolver and fired the first, edging Lance sideways to align his position with the door. Another dog-thing appeared, and Gabriel could hear Fug going ape-shit somewhere behind him.
Vega fired out the opening as Gabriel got himself positioned again.
Jackson crab walked backwards, trying to get his flesh away from the wicked snarled teeth that kept appearing.
Gabriel fired again, then again.
Vega fired once more, then everything went silent. Gun smoke hung pallid in the air, the stench of rotten potatoes and burned powder mixing in a nauseating way. His ears rang like they always did when the killing was done.
Jacks got to his feet and ran left, then forced the door closed.
"They knew we were here.” Gabriel said. "I got sighted by a lizard back at the race track."
"Lizard?” Vega asked as she watched Maria run to her man.
"Yeah, like chameleons. They change color and watch. I think the monsters are communicating somehow."
"Demons," Vega said, still watching her friends embrace.
"Demons?"
"Yes. They are demons. I saw them come through the gate."
"Gate?"
"Yes."
Gabriel could see the tiredness not just in her eyes, but in her heart, and he was again struck by her uncommon beauty.
"We have a lot to talk about. But we have to get what we came for first. Jackson, where is the other bike?"
He popped up from the little steamy package he was holding, "Up by the house. Come on, I'll show you.” He struggled to break free of Maria, and finally gave up. He lifted her bodily and started walking to the trailer. As they passed by, Gabriel could hear the girl weeping in a heart twisting way.
Gabriel dismounted and found Amelia already on her own feet, waiting. He took her hand even though she hadn't offered it, and followed Vega.
There were clear paths through the junk that led right up to the small trailer. To one side of the trailer was what used to be a covered awning structure, or so Gabriel thought. It had fallen as if a strong wind had blown through. In the center was a work bench, some tool boxes, and two smashed motorcycles, one already well into the stripping process.
"You better go quick, Jackson. It's getting dark."
"Maria, I got to put you down now. I got to get this bike taken apart."
"Okay," she said and went right to Vega and clutched her in an embrace. She looked like a lost child who just found her mother. "I don't know what I would have done if he got hurt," she said into Vega's collar.
"What's the deal with the bike?” Gabriel asked.
"He's the last one I would let get hurt, Maria. We took care of him.” Vega turned her gaze to Gabriel, "Where did you learn to draw like that?"
"My dad. What's with the bike?"
"There's something hidden in it...I think it's yours," she said with an apologetic smile.
"What?” Gabriel began to reload his revolvers with the bullets in his bandolier.
"You'll see. So what's your story anyway? Where are you from?"
"New Hampshire. I was a Marine for a while, now I'm... retired." It didn't matter the number of years. Saying this still pinched the flesh between his shoulder blades, and made his ears warm a bit.
"What'd you do?” Vega asked as she watched Jackson work on the smashed bits of the smashed bike.
"Is this an interview?"
"In a way."
"I'm not looking for a job. I'm looking to get that kid on the other side of the battle lines."
Vega looked at Amelia, then swiveled her head to Gabriel, then back at Jackson. "So, what did you do in the Marines?"
"I was a Recon Sniper, okay?"
"Nice..." Vega crossed her arms over her chest and cock
ed her hip towards Gabriel. "What was that like?"
Her body language, the timbre of her voice, made it more like a professional soldier talking to a professional warrior, and not an interview. Her hipped cocked at him like that looked pretty nice too. "It was entirely, incredibly, awesome." He was surprised at his honesty, but then again, she was, herself, a professional.
Vega looked at him again, a slow quirk of a smile on her face, "Wish I could say that about my job. Not that I have that job anymore."
"I don't either."
"No, I know. But as much as I enjoy being a cop, being in the military, I would not have thought to call it ‘awesome.’ " She said this last with an exaggerated mimicry of Gabriel. "I mean, I know I've done good and all, been of help and I was good at what I did. It just never made me want to say ‘awesome.’ "
Gabriel shrugged at her, "Well, it was."
"Did you see any action?"
A common enough question, even from an unfamiliar civilian. Did he see any action? "Yeah, I saw my share."
"It must be so cool being like an angel on the battlefield. Over watching other soldiers, keeping them safe."
Gabriel felt himself warming to Vega and her questions. "It's the most satisfying thing I have ever done in my life. A sniper sees so much more than a soldier with boots on the ground, you know? And I had the tools I needed to stop whatever it was that threatened them. It was a real power trip."
"I bet. So you saw combat and used your skills and...?"
"Yeah, Vega, I killed. I killed a lot."
"A lot?"
"A whole lot.” He heard his own voice deepen, as if he were attempting to impress her and knowing full well she wouldn't be impressed easily. "You?"
"Me what? No. Not yet. In my job, I've had to mix it up a couple of times with the drunks, but nothing serious. Usually, they are polite and respectful, even if they are blitzed out of their gourds."
"That's good," Gabriel rumbled.
Vega heard a serious cut to his voice, as if he tried to whisper what he said. "Why's that."
"Too many fucking ghosts."
"Gabriel...” Amelia stepped between them.
"Yes, Amelia?"