Avalon: Beyond the Retreat (The Avalon Series Book 2)

by L. Michael Rusin

  Eric looked at the next man and asked him if he had anything to say.

  He felt bad about some of the things he did, but rather than back down and not participate with the others, it was a lot easier to just go along with everyone else. “I don’t have any excuse. I was just trying to survive! And Bone Breaker’s group provides everything… camaraderie, food, party time, sex and pretty much everything else that we wanted and needed. I realize that much of what we did was wrong, but we live in a different world now and we must all adapt.”

  “Is there anything else you’d like to add to your statement?” The young man looked at Eric, and shook his head in the negative.

  “What is your name?”

  “Danny Fowler.”

  “What about you? Would you like to make a statement?”

  “No, I don’t, but I’m with Donnie. I never killed anybody and I only raped a couple of women. But it wasn’t just me, it was others doing it too.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “George Wells.”

  Tim spoke up. “Why do you think you should be released unharmed?”

  “There are no rules. We do what we want to do because there are no rules. The rules ended when the war began. Those of us who survive do so because we are the ruling class of what once was America. And if I was you, I’d be very careful about what you think you can get away with. Personally, I think this is all one great big stupid bluff because if you do anything to us, you’ll be staked out and fed to the ants when Bone Breaker catches up with you.”

  There were only two slavers left to talk. Eric looked at them and asked them to give their names and a statement. He pointed to one. “You first.”

  The young man stood up and spoke quietly. “My name is Billy Rich. I’ve only been riding with these fellows for a week. They came along one day and I pretended I belonged to the group already. They accepted that, and here I am. I haven’t raped or stolen from anyone. And truthfully, I never planned to. I was just looking for an opportunity to get away from them. And then you fellows came along.”

  Eric looked over at Gary. “Is this true?”

  Gary spit on the ground. “Yeah, I thought he was one of us. Instead, it turns out he’s some punk turncoat.”

  Eric looked at the other fellow. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Ralph Wall. Most people call me cotton because of my blonde hair.”

  Eric asked him if he had anything to say in his defense.

  “I think this is one great big bluff and I don’t have anything to say to any of you about nothing.”

  Eric looked at them for a long while without speaking. A warm breeze was blowing inland from the ocean. Scattered little clumps of white clouds moved with the predominate wind. As they moved across the deep blue sky, they unfolded like balls of cotton spreading out to become long thread-like white streams.

  He gathered his men and the women out of earshot of the slavers. He pulled out a small tablet and pen and began to write on it. Occasionally, one or all of them would look over at the slavers and Eric would say something and then write on the tablet again. The small conference lasted about a half hour and then Eric stepped back. “Are we all in agreement?”

  The decision of Soldiers and women was unanimous. Eric walked over to Billy Rich, pulled out his knife and cut the ropes that were binding his wrist and elbows together. “Billy, you can stay with us or leave. But if we capture you with this group or another group doing the same thing that these outlaws do, you will suffer their fate. The choice is yours.”

  “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay with you people.”

  Eric smiled and nodded at the young man. Tim and a few of the other Soldiers marched the remaining bikers over to a Madrona tree, bound their ankles together, threw ropes up onto a large low horizontal limb, tied a noose on one end of the rope and secured the other end to the trunk of the tree.

  A large log was rolled over to the line of slavers and they were forced to stand on top of it. Each man had his head inserted into a noose and all of them were ready to be hung by their necks.

  “We have listened to your statements. You’ve raped, plundered, taken advantage of the weak, and flaunted the law of man… and we judge you guilty of your crimes. It is the consensus of all of us here that you pay for your crimes by forfeiting your lives. Does anyone have anything to say in their defense before you’re hanged?”

  “You’ll never get away with th…!”

  He never had a chance to finish the statement as two Marines on at each end of the log rolled it away, and the slavers dangled on the end of the ropes with their feet about a foot from the ground. One of the women bent over and collapsed onto her knees and began to vomit.

  A sign was fastened to the middle slaver that read “Death to slavers and rapists.”

  “Think they’ll get the message?” Tim asked Eric.

  “If they don’t, we’ll just have to deliver it via other means,” Eric said, patting his rifle.

  After about a half an hour, everyone gathered up their things and prepared for the march to the north. Eric pushed the mike button on the radio and spoke to the other group.

  “Trial complete. One found innocent. We’re moving toward your location now… out.”

  Chapter 12

  Slavers Advance

  CRESCENT CITY WAS crowded and noisy, with trash everywhere. Bone Breaker wasn’t satisfied with the living conditions and was determined to make a few changes. He gathered his Lieutenants around him.

  “We need to make some changes around here. It’s getting dirty and there is way too much noise. I want to scout out another area where we can live with a little less noise and a whole lot less trash. We’ll take several men with us. We’ll move out in the early morning. Nick, ensure everyone has enough food, water, and gas for at least five days. We won’t be gone that long, but we’ll stay away as long as it takes to find suitable accommodations.”

  “You got it, boss!” Nick shouted as he hustled off to make the arrangements for tomorrow.

  That afternoon another group of slavers returned to Crescent City with new captives for the slave auction block. Bone Breaker glanced over them quickly, but he was in a hurry, so he didn’t give them much attention. He would usually spend some time looking over the new arrivals to see if there were any worth his interest. Today he was pressed for time making plans.

  The next morning, Bone Breaker and his crew left town and headed northeast. There were about five hundred slavers consisting of three hundred of his finest warriors and two hundred of the best women. They were well-armed and ready for almost anything. It was first light and the air was chilly. Bone Breaker was thinking that there should be another place close enough to Crescent City, yet far enough away from the hustle and bustle of so many people living in such close proximity.

  Nick had chosen the best to go with him. Those left behind were bodies, but not of the class and caliber he wanted for his personal army. Neither were they people he wanted to be surrounded by. The plan was to separate himself from those at Crescent City, but not too far in the event he needed allies. Crescent City would not be his home, and he was ready for change.

  Bone Breaker and his men had been occupying the oceanfront town since the war began, and he decided that they had outgrown it. He hadn’t known at the time, but searching for a new place to live would save his life and the lives of his best men.

  The group of slaves that had arrived the previous day were all sick. One slave had manifested signs of the plague, however, their keepers hadn’t noticed them. It wasn’t uncommon for one or more slaves to die once they arrived at Crescent City. Ten slaves died during the night and another hundred were gravely sick. By the time people discovered what was happening, Bone Breaker and his large contingent were already gone. During the next two days, hundreds dropped from the sickness and died shortly thereafter.

  Bone Breaker’s group was completely unaware of what was happening back in Crescent City. They found a place th
at was considered ideal to make camp. It was in the forest located at the bottom of the rolling foothills of Mount Shasta, a dormant volcano towering above the landscape.

  There was an abundance of fresh water, fish in the lake and wild animals populated the vast forest. People were already living there, but the slavers quickly dominated them and put them to work doing all the manual labor required to get the place ready for Bone Breaker’s large army of outlaws.

  While plans were under way, a hundred men left and returned to Crescent City to gather supplies for the group. As the bikers approached the city, they saw dead lying all around. Some had crashed their bikes while others simply appeared to have stopped and died where they stood. Hundreds more lay in groups or as solitary figures who had fallen as death overtook them.

  A few of the slavers stopped their bikes and searched the dead bodies for anything of value. Others ransacked the houses. There was at least one dead body inside every structure. About half of the bikers turned their machines around and headed out of town. However, it was too late, they would all die within hours. They pulled off at a roadside stop and within minutes, were no longer able to ride due to the pain and weakness that ravaged their bodies.

  Four days later, Bone Breaker sent out seventy-five men to see why the first group hadn’t returned. The bikers discovered fifty dead slavers at the roadside rest area. Most were decomposing rapidly and were nearly reduced to bone by a myriad of insects and birds. Rodents were feeding off the carcasses as were feral cats and dogs. Many of the animals were adding to the stink and decay as they also died. Several of the men got off their motorcycles and started to approach the dead.

  “Stay away from them!” yelled Slasher. “They look like they’ve died from some sort of disease, and it looks like it was a nasty one. We ride forward to see if there are signs of it in the city, and then we hightail it back to Bone Breaker and let him know what’s happened.”

  “All of them? Are you serious? Do you think its the whole town? Is everyone dead?”

  Bone Breaker could scarcely believe it when the group returned and Slasher told him of the deadly scene they had encountered. Only a disease could kill so many people so quickly. Bone Breaker asked for clarification. “And the deaths were 100 percent?” Slasher nodded grimly. It was unbelievable. Once Bone Breaker recovered from the shock, he gathered his people around him.

  “We will stay here for the time being, until this thing, whatever it is, burns itself out. Then we’ll head east and finish the job with those farmers around Fitch. I like that little town and it’ll give us a chance to live in real houses for a change.” The slavers made themselves comfortable at the base of Mount Shasta until it was time to rumble.

  Normally, the slavers would be out and about looking for hostages to trade on the open market, but the plague scared just about everyone away. No one wanted to venture out from their safe haven until they were certain the sickness had passed. As time went, they forgot about the horrors of the deadly disease and how it spread so rapidly. Eventually, with boredom setting in, the slavers were getting anxious to venture out. They were quick to forget what had trapped them in the first place.

  No one talked about Crescent City and no one wanted to go back there any time soon. They were itching to get back to Fitch and begin pillaging that area once again. They were still strong in numbers and Bone Breaker was confident that more potential slaves, women and children were out there for the picking. Especially the children… they tasted so good!

  The more he and his lieutenants thought about it, the more restless they became. No one had made a move for two months. Bone Breaker called a meeting with his men. “You all know why we left Crescent City. You also understand how deadly the plague was. Our food supply is running low after being holed up here for the last two months. It’s been a good vacation but now it’s time to move on.” He paused and waited for a reaction from his men. None offered anything to the conversation.

  “We need to make preparations to move on those farmers that nearly wiped us out the last time we tangled with them. In the next week, we’ll avoid Crescent City and send out forays to the east, south, and west toward San Francisco. I want to keep the groups small, no more than twenty or so people. I don’t want to lose a large group of my soldiers to the plague again. Each of you will lead a group. We need to find food, guns, ammunition and of course new women.”

  This statement received a roar of agreement. Some of the men were tired of the women they had and looked forward to trading the older ones in for newer models. Bone Breaker allowed it… after all, they needed something to take their minds off the plague and get them focused and ready for war. The prospect of new women for great sex was just what they needed.

  Bone Breaker began speaking again and the group settled down to hear what he had to say. “We need food more than we need women. But a new woman or two wouldn’t be a bad thing, either.” This caused him to laugh and the others joined in.

  “We also need fuel for our motorcycles. We will spread out in search of those things in a couple of days. Don’t look for women first, Look for what we need the most! We don’t want to run out of anything. We are low in resources, but it hasn’t reached a critical stage yet. Take any target of opportunity. If you run into a heavily fortified stronghold, make note of it… but don’t spend a lot of time trying to take it.”

  “We don’t want to lose any of our people but we also don’t want to lose a chance at getting fresh food or weapons and ammo. Once we’re stocked up again, we will go for those farmers again. This time I’m confident we can take them and we WILL make them pay for what they did to us last time we went up against them. Any questions?”

  He waited. There were none. “Okay boys, take care of your business because some of you may not be coming back. Be prepared to ride out in a couple of days. It’ll take us that long to sort out what we’ll need while we’re gone and it’ll prepare the women for not seeing your smiling faces for a while.”

  The meeting broke up and the men went their separate ways. They all knew what they needed to do and they were looking forward to doing it. It was always an adventure. Most of them loved the pillaging and plundering… They were, after all, a conquering mass who took what they wanted from those who could not defend what they had. The strong dominated and the weak succumbed.

  It had been that way all through the ages… from earlier than Genghis Khan, up to present time. ‘We come, we see and we take what we want. If anyone stands in our way, they die.’

  The next morning five groups of twenty men left the new encampment. Each group headed in a different direction. They headed towards Fitch down the beach highway, towards Redding north to Medford, Oregon and on towards Klamath Falls, Oregon. They were to search primarily for food, fuel, weapons and ammunition. They also were instructed to look for medicine, bandages and anything else of value to help aid any wounded or injured member of their group. Strict orders were given to avoid any bodies that appeared to have died from the plague.

  Every rider had enough water and gasoline to last for a week. This amounted to a combined total of two hundred gallons each. Everything, including the extra ammunition, was carried in a van or pickup with a camper shell mounted over the bed. Two men rode in each of the vehicles while the remaining men rode their motorcycles. Cooking utensils were also carried in the vans or pickups. Each group would arrive at their objectives at a different time. None were to engage anyone else unless the outcome of the engagement was assured. They had lost many women and men to the plague and were resigned to finding replacements.

  The first group of slavers to make contact with anyone was the group heading south on the beach highway. The gang rounded a long sweeping curve that wound its way around some sand dunes and ran into the Soldiers, who had more than adequate fire power. When the slavers tried to turn around and retreat, they realized they were surrounded.

  The Soldiers cut the slavers to ribbons. When the short but intense battle was over, dead slavers wer
e everywhere. Those left alive made an attempt to escape to the ocean, but they were systematically tracked down and killed. None of the slavers escaped the carnage. One Soldier was wounded in the shoulder, the only casualty on the side of the Army.

  Everything of value was collected including the food, medical kits, knives and ammunition. The water and fuel in the pickup was intact and it was a stroke of luck that none of the containers were punctured during the wild firefight.

  Once the dead bodies were searched, they were piled up along with their motorcycles and torched. The black smoke billowed upward into the blue sky. The Soldiers continued their trek north.

  The second group to make contact was the group heading toward Medford, Oregon. As the motorcycles approached the town entry, they ran into a barricade made from vehicles, tires and miscellaneous debris including fifty-five gallon drums and railroad ties previously used for landscaping.

  There was an opening just big enough for a single vehicle to get through once a large truck was moved out of the way. About thirty townspeople manned the barricade. All were armed with hunting rifles and a few had military-type assault weapons. Slasher approached with a man on either side of his motorcycle. He wanted to talk. Thirty rifles were trained on the three men.

  “We come in peace.” He attempted to be conciliatory as he feigned a peaceful posture.

  “We’ve heard all about you and your peace.” The spokesman for the townspeople wasn’t fooled by the slavers. “You need to turn around and leave the area. If you don’t, you’ll be killed. We don’t like you and your bunch,” the spokesman shouted over the barricade.

  “This is the only warning you’ll ever get from us. The next time we see any of you, it will be your last moment on this Earth. Turn around and git!” The spokesman clicked his safety off on his own rifle to emphasize his point and then another twenty-nine more followed suit with the click-click of safeties being removed. The rifles were all aimed at Slasher and his two men.