Chapter 9
We walked out the front gate, a boy not yet a man leading a horse carrying two kids who just lost everything in their world. I had no idea what to do with them outside of getting them to some sort of settlement. I hoped there would be a home found for them there. If no one took them in, I didn’t know what I would do. I guess I’d bring them back to my home. Or Kim’s. I smiled at that thought. I doubt children were what she had in mind when she asked me to bring something back for her.
On the road, I walked with my left hand on the reins, keeping my right hand free. I didn’t think for a minute that the two men who had followed me this morning hadn’t heard the shots I had fired just a little while ago. If they were out here, they’d probably be along shortly.
I hoped I’d reach the town of Manhattan by then, and maybe there would be some law I could report them to. But I figured that wouldn’t be likely. Not since I could see two figures walking towards me from the west. They were both carrying rifles, and from what I knew about guns, I could see they were not scoped guns. If they had been, I’d probably already be dead.
I stopped Judy and pulled my rifle out of its scabbard. No point in being under-gunned in a fight. If I could end this peacefully I would, but these two seemed determined to force the issue.
When they were about fifty yards away I raised a hand. My other hand held the rifle hip level, pointing in the general direction of the two men.
“That’s close enough,” I said. “You guys have been hunting me all morning. It needs to stop.”
One of the men slapped the other one on the arm.
“Oh, it’ll stop,” he said. “I promise. Get them kids off the horse, put your guns on the ground, and walk away. We’ll let you keep your hat.”
I shook my head. “These kids just lost their parents to Trippers. I’m taking them to Manhattan. Let us by.”
The other man, Don, shouted angrily, “I’m done talkin’! Next thing you hear will be my gun goin’ off! You hear me, boy?”
As my father would have said, the negotiations seemed to be over. I raised the barrel of my rifle slightly, and fired from the hip. I didn’t wait to see if I hit anything, I threw the gun up to my shoulder, and this time, I aimed carefully, firing at the man who was raising his rifle to his shoulder. He suddenly threw his hands up in the air, tossing his rifle behind him as he stumbled backwards and lay flat while his feet kicked at the ground.
I shifted my aim and looked for a target while Judy tossed her head at the noise. The kids screamed at the shots and the sudden shifting of Judy’s back. I apparently had scored a hit with my first shot, as both men were on the ground. I couldn’t believe my luck. I hadn’t practiced much, but I guessed that my practice with the bow had sharpened my aiming skills towards other weapons.
Leaving the kids with Judy, I walked forward slowly, keeping my rifle trained on the two inert forms. I looked left and right at the houses near the road, making sure no other Trippers might be coming out of their caves.
I reached the men, and with a single look, knew I didn’t need the firepower anymore. One man had been shot through the neck, the other had been hit square in the face. After removing a couple more weapons from the men, I dragged the corpses over to the ditch and dumped them in. I doubted they had any family to take care of, since I didn’t think their families would have approved of them hunting down another person. One thing I had learned from this mess of a world I had grown up in was people tended to behave themselves in groups larger than five. Single people were fifty-fifty on whether they were good or bad. Groups of two to four were just bad news.
I picked up the rifles the men were carrying. One was a bolt action of some caliber, while the other was a levergun a little like mine but different. It had a magazine that came out the bottom, and the bullets were much larger than the ones that fed my Winchester. The writing on the gun’s barrel said Savage 99, and it was chambered in .308 Winchester. I liked the look of it, so I figured to keep it.
I went back to Judy and the kids, and both of them stared at me with wide eyes. I’m sure if they were on the ground, they would have run by now. I didn’t have anything reassuring to tell them, and figured if I started telling them about my earlier encounters with the men, they wouldn’t have understood anyway.
We walked easily the rest of the way to the town of Manhattan, and if I had any ideas about what the place was going to be like, they flew out the window the minute I lay eyes on the place.
Chapter 10
Manhattan seemed to have sprung out of the middle of a farm field, with four access points. But I could see this was not a new town; rather, it was one that several people decided to make into a better community than the ones they had left or had fled from.
The defenses of the town seemed to have been well thought out. Surrounding the entire town and several dozen acres of land was a deep trench. The dirt from the trench was piled up on the inside of the trench, creating a tall barrier that Trippers would have a hard time with. On top of the small hill was a flat walking area, and I could see several guards making circuits of the fence. I waited until one was within earshot before asking him how I could get inside. He directed me to a small bridge that led to a tunnel that took me through the hill.
On the inside of the hill, I could see a lot of land being farmed, and I was stunned to see a tractor tilling the soil. I knew what it was and what it was doing, but it was the first time I had ever seen machinery I action. I stared at the tractor until Judy bumped me with her nose.
I followed a narrow trail that led towards another fence, and this one was made of what looked like sheets of metal. When I got closer, I realized the entire fence had been made out of garage doors. I had to admit that was pretty clever.
There was a checkpoint about a hundred yards from another fence, and it was there that I was directed to a small stockyard where I left Judy in her own little corral. She had water and feed, and was more than happy to explore her new place without me.
I left my rifles with her, but took the other one I had confiscated with me. If nothing else, I could trade it for something. I took the kids’ hands and we walked the rest of the way to a large door in the middle of what was an even bigger door. The door was set in a large wall, roughly fifteen feet high. It looked to be made out of stone, which was impressive as hell. A small guardhouse was by the door and a man was sitting in it, watching me approach.
When I got close enough he smiled and said, “Welcome to Manhattan! What business brings you here?” He was a portly man, probably about forty-five, with a set of fat rolls under his chin that wobbled when he talked. His head was mostly bald, although what little hair he had left was holding on in tight, aggressive curls.
“Came here to see a friend, got these two out a bit of trouble. They will need looking after,” I said.
The man’s tone changed. “I see. Parents…?”
I shook my head. “Dad saved them, but I was about an hour too late to do anything but clean up the leftovers.”
“Understood. We get a lot of orphans, and we have a lot of couples that have lost children who would be happy to provide a home for these two,” he said.
“One thing, though. They need to stay together,” I said.
“Of course. And as for you, who are you here to see?” The man pulled out a small book that looked to have hundreds of names in it. I saw that some of the names had been crossed out, others had check marks next to them.
“Chambers family. Should have arrived here about a year or so ago,” I said.
“Mmm Hmm. Ah! I see! Here they are. Three streets in, take a left. Follow it until you can’t go any further. Take a right, and it will be the fourth house on the left,” he said. “You can bring the children to the medical center. They will be checked out and cared for.”
“Thanks,” I said. I was trying to remember his directions when he opened the door and let us in through the large wall.
The interior was a town the likes of which I ha
d only read about. The homes were all in neat rows, like the ones I had seen and lived around, but these had no fences, no walls. It was open space all around, and nearly every home I looked at appeared to be occupied. There were people walking in the streets and on the sidewalks, just taking in the sun and having conversations. If I had to guess, this was what the world was like before the Tripp Virus came along and screwed everything up.
We walked past the first block of houses and the buildings turned from homes to businesses. But instead of being broken and empty, they had people in them and actual things to buy. I looked at one for a while, so much so that people in the store started to stare back.
I shook myself and we moved on. As we did, I became aware that I was getting a lot of stares. I’ll admit we made a strange sight, but I didn’t think we were all that weird, given the way the world was.
A big white building with a large red cross on it got in my way, and it didn’t take much thought to figure out this was the place I needed to drop the kids off at.
Inside, a matronly woman took one look at the kids and came hurriedly from behind the huge desk she was sitting behind. She called for a couple of teenagers to take the kids away, and then she addressed me.
“Are you the father?” she asked, looking up at me with half-squinting eyes. Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun, making her long face appear even longer.
I took my hat off and shook my head quickly. “Umm, no. I’m only fifteen.”
“Mmm hmm,” she said, looking me up and down. “Well, you’re definitely big enough. Why did you bring the kids in? Where are their parents?”
“I brought the kids in because they were alone in their house. Outside the bedroom where they were hiding was their father. He was dead. Their mother was in the living room providing a meal for the Trippers, who, in case you hadn’t heard yet, are starting to eat their victims,” I said.
Bun lady stared at me and blinked slowly three times. “I see. Okay then. Well, thank you. Is that your gun?” she asked, pointing to the rifle I had on my shoulder. My coat was covering my Colt, and my arm was blocking that as well.
“Yes. I took it off a gentleman who didn’t seem to want it anymore. Is there a place I can sell it or trade it?” I asked, thinking about the stores.
“The place for that is the sheriff’s office. He takes any extra guns. People around here are allowed one gun per household. Visitors are not allowed to carry guns,” she said.
“I see. Where is the sheriff’s office?” I was really feeling out of my depth. I hadn’t had this much interaction in my life. Suddenly, I was surrounded by rules and regulations and it just seemed nearly too much.
“Two buildings down, it’s across the street. Chances are good he’s heard of you by now, and is coming to see you,” she said.
Great. “Well, thanks for your help, and thanks for taking care of the kids,” I said, turning for the door.
“Thank you, for bringing them in. Good day.”
I left quickly, as the place was making me feel closed in. I needed the air and the sky to get my balance back.
Chapter 11
“You there! Man with the rifle! Don’t move!” a harsh voice barked at me from across the street, and everyone within earshot turned to see what the ruckus was. A large man, about my size, maybe taller with thinner shoulders, was coming across the road at a brisk clip. He stopped about twenty feet away from me and began shouting at me.
“Take the gun off your shoulder with your left hand! Do it now! Place it on the ground in front of you! Now!” The man, possibly the sheriff, was standing back with his hand on his own gun, practically itching to start something. I wasn’t in the mood to get caught up in whatever the man was trying to do so I just complied as quickly as I could. The gun wasn’t mine, so what did I care, really?
“Back away, back away, back away! Keep your hands where I can see them!”
Seriously, this was getting silly. I stepped back, letting the man do what he needed to do. I wasn’t wanting trouble, I just wanted to get to my friend’s house and then with luck get out of here. I had a long ride home, and I sure wasn’t going to make it today.
The man stepped forward, and I could see as he did the star on his shirt read ‘deputy,’ not sheriff. The other pin read ‘Mahome,’ which I assumed was his name. He picked up the rifle and checked the chamber, pulling the live round out of it. He swung the rifle around to his shoulder, and then faced me.
“Who are you?” Mahome’s tone didn’t change much, but his volume did. He was a big man, clearly used to having some kind of authority over the people around him. My dad had described policemen like him, guys who didn’t really want to serve the public, just order it around. He spoke to me like he disapproved of my existence, which he clearly did.
I found myself annoyed and not willing to be so subservient. “Nobody. Just visiting a friend.” I kept my eyes off of him, making it look like there were hundreds of other things more interesting than he was.
“Who’s your friend?” Mahome asked, agitated because I was vague.
“My business, thanks for asking. Anything else?” I said.
Mahome stepped up close, nearly bumping my hat with his head.
“Listen up, punk. I don’t need a reason to toss you in jail. This badge says I can do just about anything I want, get it? So when I ask you a question, you answer, get it?” Mahome punctuated his speech by jabbing me in the chest with his finger.
I really didn’t like that, and without even thinking, I put my hand up and shoved Mahome in the chest, using the strength I had from a lifetime of hard work to propel him backwards and causing him to fall on his butt. He landed hard, and the look on his face clearly showed he was not used to being resisted. His face turned nearly beet red and he grabbed at his gun.
I walked away, since I saw that his gun had fallen out of its holster and had tumbled away out of his reach. Mahome scrambled around, and by the time he had found his gun, I was already too far away to cause another scene with. I noticed as I walked away that a lot of people who had seen the interaction were smiling. I think Deputy Mahome wasn’t as popular with the locals as I suspected he thought he was.
It took me a minute, but eventually I found the Chambers’ house. It was a nice two-story building with several big trees and nice yard. I spent a good two hours there, catching up with Trey. Mrs. Chambers fussed over me the whole time, trying to feed me extra food and grabbing my shoulders, telling me she had no idea I was going to grow up to be such a big, handsome man.
About mid-afternoon, I started to get uncomfortable, and I could see that the family was getting uncomfortable as well. I was a reminder of what they had left behind and what they had lost. They had come here to make a new beginning for their family, and I was part of the past.
We said our goodbyes, and I walked out of their house right into a mess. Sheriff Bowers, with Deputy Mahome standing right next to him, were waiting for me as I left the Chambers’ house.
“Stay where you are, you little shit!” Mahome growled, keeping a hand on his gun. Maybe he was afraid of losing it or something.
“Easy, Jim,” Bowers said over his shoulder. He addressed me next. “Afternoon, son. Jim here says you assaulted him. What’s your side of the story?” Bowers was a man of about fifty, with a large grey mustache and deep blue eyes under bushy eyebrows. Those eyes swept me with an appraising glance, and lingered for a second on the part of my coat that covered my gun. He looked competent, and I noticed he kept his hand near his own weapon, a large revolver of some kind.
“Not much to tell. You deputy there took my rifle, and then poked me in the chest with his finger. I didn’t much care for that, so I returned the favor, so to speak,” I said.
“That’s a lie! I never touched you! I…!” Mahome was livid with rage.
“Jim!” Bowers barked over his shoulder and Mahome quieted. “Are you leaving, son?” The sheriff asked.
I looked around, and there were people standing o
n the porches of homes up and down the street. Behind me, I could hear Trey and his family walking out onto the porch of their house.
“On my way now, Sheriff. I don’t want any trouble. Just visiting a friend. I brought in a couple of orphans from outside, that’s all. I’ll collect my horse and be gone,” I said.
“Hold it!” Mahome said. “This is bullshit! This kid assaulted me and you’re letting him go? Sir, I have to object!”
Bowers was about to reply when Mahome stepped in front of him.
“Gun! Sir, he’s got a gun!” Deputy Mahome shouted reaching for his weapon.
He got his gun halfway out when he stopped suddenly. My Colt was out and pointing towards his gut. His eyes got huge and it seemed like he couldn’t figure out what to do with his hand.
Sheriff Bowers held his hands out. “Hold it! Nobody shoot! Just hold it!”
I put my gun back in my holster, but I kept my hand on it. “I just want to leave,” I said quietly, keeping an eye on the deputy. “That’s all I want to do.”
Sheriff Bowers kept his hand out, but his other hand was now on his gun. He nodded his head. “And that works out just fine for us, son. You go ahead and gather your horse and head on out.”
I started walking down the street, keeping my ear cocked for noise behind me. I passed several people standing on their porches and they all watched me walk past. I couldn’t read their faces.
Suddenly, I heard a shout, and I turned around to see Mahome pointing his gun at me. I heard a shot, and something whipped past my head. I fell backwards, and there was another shot. It was loud, and it echoed under the trees. I heard screams, and one person shouted, “No, Josh!” It might have been Trey.
I scrambled to my feet, checked my gun, and found that it was in its holster. Down the street, Sheriff Bowers was kneeling over a prone Deputy Mahome.
The sheriff stood slowly, shaking his head. He walked over to me, and the look on his face was full of sadness.
Born in the Apocalypse 2: State of Ruin Page 4