I had my guns and my bow and quiver. I counted my arrows and had twenty-four to work with. My Colt held five and my Winchester held ten, I had another twenty-five in my gun belt. If I used everything I had to good effect, I would kill over sixty Trippers.
I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, which was why I was sitting here. As I waited, I had time to reflect on a lot of things, and one thing that stood out in my mind was what Jennifer had said. She had asked if I was a good man, and I said that I hoped I was. But I wondered what good it had gotten me? I had been beaten, run out of two towns, and for what? I could easily kill any man I came across. Even one with a weapon wasn’t much of a match for me. If I wanted to, I could be the worst thing to hit this state since the Trippers.
My musings were going to have to wait as the first of the infected stepped into the yard. I had lit a candle and placed it on a small stone in front of me. The light showed me clearly to the Tripper, and she stumbled forward with the telltale wheeze of battle. I watched her come forward, and then I watched her disappear from sight.
She had fallen into one of the foundations and I could hear her thrashing about, slapping her hands on the walls and wheezing in fury.
I waited and two more came into the yard, following the same path as the first. They fell into the foundation as well, and the added noise was irritating, but not necessarily unwelcome. It was a call to others, and the more I could get into the pits without firing a shot, the better off I would be.
Suddenly there was a bang at the gates and the doors opened wide to about twenty Trippers. They were of all sorts of shapes and sizes, and they spread out as they saw me and came into the yard. Right away, I knew this was going to be trouble as the far ones were going to miss the foundation.
“Well, no plan survives the whole battle anyway,” I said, remembering some military writer at the moment. I didn’t think I had gotten it right, but who really cared at the moment? I got up and walked to the edge of the foundation, hoping that my movement might cause the far side ones to move in my direction, which would place them directly into the pit. The others on this side would have to just go down.
Sure enough, the Trippers changed course and there was a lot of meaty thumps as the infected stumbled into the foundations to join their kin. The other three, the ones I had moved closer to, they all died with arrows in their faces, inglorious as it was.
There was a surge at the gate and about thirty more came through. I had no idea where they came from; I could only guess there was a major city nearby and they were on the hunt. The noise of the others might have drawn them here.
In all seriousness, if this place had four walls, I could easily have lived out my life here. There was enough land for gardens, water was nearby, and there wasn’t any way in hell the Trippers could have ever breached the stone walls. There were interior buildings for sleeping quarters and outbuildings for storage and stabling.
I was about to be surrounded, and I decided to take the only course I had available to me. I went over to the second foundation and very carefully walked out onto a beam that crossed from one side to the other. There were four of them, and they were literally the tops of the walls that split the foundation into separate rooms. The beams were roughly six inches wide, and were about ten feet from the floor.
I stopped in the middle of the beam and waited. I slung my bow over my back and stood carefully. I scanned the crowd heading for me and was relieved when I didn’t see any that were very tall.
They fell into the foundation from all sides. Their hunger and rage compelled them to fall in droves. Some took a step onto the beam I was standing on before falling in, and I had to duck back from clutching hands.
When they finally stopped falling, they picked themselves up and filled the rooms below, pushing against each other, grasping at the air below me. I looked at the upturned faces, the raised hands, the bloody mouths, and the red to black eyes. I couldn’t help but think I was looking into Hell, and one misstep would be the last I ever took. I could never hope to shoot so fast that I might keep them from getting me before I could climb out.
I carefully, carefully, carefully moved across the beam and back onto the grass, thanking whatever gods that might be listening that the Trippers were unable to coordinate themselves enough to try jumping. I walked away from the foundations and went to the buildings. The first two were locked, but I got into the third and found myself in a museum of sorts. There were books and pictures and little models of the fort.
I locked the door, and after making sure the building was empty, I went to sleep in a teepee with two full-sized plastic Indians guarding the flap.
In the morning, I brought Judy out and led her over to the river to drink and eat. She was in a much better mood now that she had rested. I took the time to go over my supplies and a map and try and figure out my next move. Summer was getting on, and pretty soon I needed to think about heading back to my home. I traced my route and figured out where I was. I was in Fort Du Chartres, about two hundred and fifty miles away from home. If I started back now, it could take me three weeks with no delays to get back there. I looked at the map again and saw there was a place that sounded interesting. Garden of the Gods. I would go there and see what it was about such a place that earned it that name, and then I would head home.
It seemed simple as I sat there in the morning breeze by the river. But I knew in the back of my mind, I was tempting fate yet again. I’d seen a good part of the state, but there was a lot more to see.
I knew I was also avoiding the pressing issue at hand. I had a bunch of Trippers trapped in the fort, and I wasn’t sure what to do with them. I’d figure that out later, I supposed.
Back in the museum, I found a display that had a number of old weapons. There were flintlock rifles, pistols, a sword, and a couple of tomahawks. I had to shake my head at the irony that what I really needed was a spear. But a long look around didn’t yield any of those, so in the end, I decided to just leave them where they were. I couldn’t kill them efficiently and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let them out. Maybe someone else would figure it out, or come along with a better plan to dispose of them, but on the bright side, they were no longer a threat to the locals, if there were any.
Judy and I left the fort about an hour after the sun had come up, and I was grateful to be moving. I had a plan, I had a place to see, and my wandering spirit was being assuaged yet again. Mark Twain would be proud.
That or he’d call me a damn fool. I couldn’t tell you which I’d lay money on.
Chapter 33
“Well, well, well. What do we have here, boys?”
The speaker was a young man of about twenty-five or so, dressed in black and wearing a gun rig similar to mine. His gun wasn’t a Colt, though; it was more of a modern kind of revolver. He was speaking to three friends of his who lounged nearby.
I had come up from the river, heading south from Chester where I spent a very pleasant week with a community of very intelligent people. It seemed like Chester was where all the smart folks wandered to after the world ended, and by the sound of things, they had pretty much wrapped up the world’s problems by the time I got there. We’d argue about things for breakfast, agree with each other for lunch, and around suppertime we’d swapped positions on the things we argued about in the morning and had a go from the other direction. They were very curious about the things I had seen, and I was more than willing to talk about what I had done and who I had been with. They were relieved to hear there were other communities that had survived, and by the time I had left, they were already coming up with delegations to talk with other groups. I didn’t expect them to try any sort of communication with the group in Galena.
Drifting south, I kept to the interior of the state heading mostly southerly and east-ish. I was still looking for the Garden of the Gods, and as I did, I managed to stumble down a road that went through a cliff face and towards Murphysboro. That’s where I ran into my current trouble.
“L
ooks like he thinks he’s a gunfighter, Roy.” Another young man spoke up from the side of the road, where it looked like he was losing a fight with small shrub. A closer look showed he was working on a snare to catch small game under the bush.
Roy looked at me with a sneer, and stepped into the road. I was walking Judy at the time, and I switched her reins to my left hand as I stopped.
“I’m not looking for trouble,” I said. I marked the two other men standing behind Roy, and I could see the man with the bush clearly to my left. If there was another one out there, I couldn’t see him.
“Nobody ever does,” Roy agreed. “But trouble sometimes just comes up and gets you anyway, don’t you think?” Roy said. His smile was more of a smirk, and his eyes wandered over my belongings as I stood in front of him. He was about thirty pounds lighter than I was, with stooped shoulders and a lazy posture. But his gun was clean and it looked like his holster had seen some practice.
“Usually the case,” I said. “Do you mind if I move on? I’d like to find someplace to spend the night before it gets dark. Trippers and all.” I tried to sound concerned.
“No, I don’t mind. But I think I need some kind of payment for you using my road,” Roy said. “That gun will do nicely.”
I put a hand on my Colt like I didn’t want to let it go. “And if I say no?”
Roy’s face kept his smirk, but his eyes weren’t smiling at all. “Then I guess we find out who’s the real gunfighter here, don’t we?”
I was done with Mr. Roy so I shrugged. “Works for me. Whenever you think you’re ready, get to work.” I stepped two paces to the left to make sure Judy was out of the line of fire.
Well, that didn’t seem to sit too well with Mr. Roy. He looked back at his friends and they looked at him like they weren’t sure who he really was. I imagine other people had backed down pretty quickly, which gave him his confidence. Trouble was, you never really knew who you were dealing with, and making assumptions on first impressions was usually a bad idea.
I was confident, but in the back of my mind, I wondered if he had put in as much practice as I had. Maybe he was as good or better. I had no way to tell unless I called him out, and I did just that. For all I knew, I just made my last mistake on this earth.
I decided to push the issue, to try and put him off his game. I’d read it was a trick they used to do in the old days, just to try and gain enough of an edge to squeak out a victory.
“So what kind of payment do I get when I win?” I asked, bringing up my fingertips and blowing lightly on them before putting them back near my gun. “Can I have your gun? And what about your friends? Are they in this, too? Just want to make sure I kill the right people.”
Roy was stock-still and though the evening was cool, he was sweating. At that moment, I knew one of two things was going to happen. He was going to go for his gun, fearing the ridicule of his friends over actually dying, or he was going to face the fact that he liked life better, even if he admitted he was less of a man than he thought he was. I watched his eyes and couldn’t tell what was really going on in there. If he was really a gunfighter, he’d have made his play when I was blowing on my fingers, when my hand was furthest away from my gun. I would have.
But then it was there, that flash of maybe, just maybe he could pull it off and be the big man. Show everyone his prize, and tell the tale of how he got it. That was more powerful than survival, apparently.
I’ll give him this: he was the fastest I had seen so far. He grabbed at his gun and actually got it clear before my gun went off. My bullet struck him in the hip and spun him around, and he threw his gun off into the brush as he fell. Roy screamed in pain as he fell, and thrashed on the ground as his friends looked on. I held my gun out to cover them, but they had no fight in them. I think the shock was a little much.
I took Judy around Roy and didn’t holster my gun until I was well past the group. I didn’t think they would make trouble, but then I thought Roy wouldn’t try me, either.
I mounted up and rode away, putting some distance between myself and the shooting. I didn’t know whether or not they had any weapons other than what I had seen, but I wasn’t going to stay and find out. They were going to have their hands transporting Roy, though. I’d hit him hard, and if he lived, maybe he’d have learned a lesson.
Chapter 34
The town of Murphysboro was a small community, even back before the Trippers. A single street ran through it, and small side streets full of homes made up the rest of the town. The town seemed like it spilled over a series of hills, growing larger as they went south. To the north, the land was flat as I was used to it, but the road I was on was the division between prairie and hills. If I had time, I would explore the difference, but the group of people coming out of their homes to meet me on the road put that notion to the side for the time being.
A large man leading a group of four more large men broke away from the people and blocked the road. He raised his hand and I reined Judy up. I was still about twenty yards away, but I could hear his voice as easily as if I was standing next to him.
“Hello, stranger! I guess you got past my guards on the road?” he called.
I called back. “No, I met them.”
“Why didn’t they come with you?” The man seemed genuinely perplexed.
I put a hand on my leg near my gun. “They are busy right now with a wounded man,” I said.
There was general muttering as this news circulated around. The man in charge took a few steps forward.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I was coming up the road, and I was challenged to a gunfight. I won,” I said.
The large man swore a blue streak the likes of which I hadn’t heard since the time my father found out I was trying to dry fish in my closet. When he calmed down, he looked at me pointedly.
“Is he hurt bad?”
I shrugged. “I hit him in the hip, so it may be a flesh wound or I may have broken something. He should live. But I would recommend someone take his gun away before he gets himself very dead.”
The man nodded. “Maybe this will be the lesson. I’m obliged to you for not killing my stupid son.”
I had to admit he was taking this a lot better than I thought he might. Maybe Roy wasn’t a very popular person. But if I had the chance to move on without trouble, I was taking it.
“Anything down this road?” I asked.
The man nodded. “There’s another town about five miles down the road, but it’s not safe. There’s been rumors of attacks, so if you’re headed that way, mind yourself.”
I nodded and kneed Judy to move. The people parted and I could hear them talking about Roy. Truth be known, maybe I did them a favor.
The road east was a wide one, and it would take a while before nature took this one back. It wound around hills and passed a few large buildings. One looked important and had the name of a clinic on it. It looked like it had seen a fire and a couple of earthquakes.
I kept to the road, and as I did, I could see movement between the buildings I passed. Furtive shapes that stayed to the shadows, yet stared out with hungry eyes. I didn’t know if they were Trippers or not, but I knew how to find out. Ahead of me, there was a tall building, and another next to it. The road passed next to them, and as I rode through, I brought up my rifle and fired three shots down the space between them. There were four shadows in there, and the shots went near their heads.
I figured they’d duck away, and the rest of the shadows would follow, not wanting to run the risk of getting shot.
I didn’t figure the shadows would charge, wheezing in rage, trying their best to get to me to rip me apart. I also didn’t figure the shots would galvanize every Tripper within earshot, and they literally came pouring out of every alley, every building, and every home within five hundred yards.
“Go, Judy! Go!” I kicked her hard and she leapt forward as if she’d been stung, running hard. She moved swiftly, dodging a couple of large Trippers who were mov
ing to intercept us. I managed to kick one as we went by and he crashed through a store window.
We cleared the cluster of buildings and rode around a sweeping curve in the road. Behind us, hundreds of Trippers wheezed and raged, following at a loping trot. I had no illusions about what would happen if they caught us. There would be nothing left of me save bones.
I took Judy towards the grass to save her hooves, and she ran better for it. In a few minutes, she had cleared the town and we were running from the Tripper horde. I knew we had to keep going, and I knew Judy couldn’t run at that speed much longer, but we had gained enough ground that I was able to dismount and lead her away, walking quickly. I had no idea where I was going, all I knew was that I was trying to get away from what was little different than a school of piranha.
The road was flanked on both sides by dense vegetation, and I could see a wide forest in the views I had to the south. Ahead, there was a clearing, but instead of being a field, it turned out to be a large lake.
Looking back I could see the pursuit in the distance, so I couldn’t stay too long. I let Judy have a small drink before we kept moving. I wished the road would turn or something, but it remained damnably straight. The only thing I could see in the distance was a hill, and it wasn’t a very big one at that.
At the other side of the long bridge, there was a small brick building next to a road leading off to some kind of peninsula on the lake. The road at this point was blocked with a six-foot brick wall, something I hadn’t seen when I first looked up the road. The wall had been painted on the near side, and from a distance, it was hard to tell it was there.
I didn’t see a door, and I was about to go swimming with Judy when a voice came over the barrier.
“You a Tripper?”
The question took me a little by surprise. “Do you ever hear anyone say yes?” I asked in reply.
Born in the Apocalypse 2: State of Ruin Page 12