The Weak Shall Die: Complete Collection (Four Volume Set)

by Taylor Michaels

  "Which way, Sarah?"

  "Like I said last time. No meat for a long time. I came from the north, so we shouldn't go back that way. Nothing up north. I'm sure of it. We just came from the south where you live. Last time we came, we went west. Let's try east, it's downhill. Should be warmer. Should be some water. A stream. Like us, animals need water."

  They maneuvered the treacherous slope with it's jutting rocks and narrow path until continuing their trek along a small brook for another hour. They stopped at a bend in the creek.

  John looked at Sarah. "What do you say? Anything here? See any signs?"

  "If you think I'm some modern day Davy Crockett, you're wrong. I can survive, but that's it. I went places in a car. I lived in a house most of my life. I bought most of my food from the local store and McDonald's. I watched television and I played video games. I don't live in a tree and eat bark and bugs."

  "Sorry, easy mistake," John said.

  "That's what I thought," said George. "At least, it's a nice day. A little wind. Blue sky. Warm. Good day for a walk."

  "Wait a minute," Sarah said, sounding excited. "I do see something. Twenty feet to the right, see that? A turkey feather. Go that way."

  George wondered if they had misplaced his faith in Sarah's hunting abilities. She seemed more excited than he was. George picked up the turkey feather and examined it. It was clean and in good shape as if it had been dropped recently.

  The search through the woods lasted for another twenty minutes, each member of the hunting party straining to hear any signs other than their own breathing. Sarah stopped abruptly and whispered. "Hear that. Turkeys. More than one. Probably within a couple hundred yards. Keep going, slowly. Be quiet and don't spook them."

  They crept through the forest in silence, sometimes on tiptoes, for another ten minutes, the cackle of the big birds growing louder and louder.

  "What do you say, George?"

  "We're close," he whispered. "Remember our talk. I'll be ready. You, too, Sarah."

  "I'll be ready with my rifle," John said. "I don't pretend to be any good with a bow. I'll back you up. A turkey is worth a bullet."

  "A bullet may help fill your belly, now," said George. "But later, it could save your life. Which do you want more?"

  "Smart ass!"

  "Shush. Everybody quiet!" whispered Sarah, waving her hands in a downward motion. She made a noise that sounded like a turkey. Rustling was heard in the leaves and a large male turkey strutted out from behind a blackberry thicket. Sarah raised a finger to her mouth. "Wait." She made the noise again and two more turkeys strutted from the bushes. "Shoot," she said, letting an arrow fly. George released his arrow and John waited to see if either of the others could reload in time. Sarah was fastest and her second arrow struck the third turkey a mortal blow.

  "You haven't been wasting your time. You've been practicing. Sounds like you just answered your own question, Sarah. We'd love to have you and your two turkeys join us. I'm sure the rest of the group will agree."

  "Thanks, John. That's big of you. I really am sorry you were shot. It was partly my fault."

  "Let's call it an accident, for now, and let it go."

  * * *

  George was searching through all the old hunting magazines, trying to find something to read that he hadn't read a hundred times before. He flipped through each several times before deciding that he'd read them all and really wasn't that much into reading tonight. Especially since he could probably quote most of them by heart. John appeared in the doorway of the great room of the lodge. George nodded to John and waved him to sit down.

  "I have an idea, John."

  "What's that, George? Your ideas are always interesting."

  "Let's go huntin' again." He and John both headed for the recliner, but John beat him to it. George eased into the worn sofa.

  "You want a chaperone or can I trust you with Sarah?"

  George laughed. "She is attractive, thin, cute, but young. Sarah and Harry are gettin' close. I'm just another old man to her. Like the ones she grew up with. Not like the ones she wants to be with. I appreciate your tryin' to make me look important. But, it wasn't necessary. Iris and I are gettin' along fine."

  "Just thought I'd try to help out. It's always nice to have options and I wasn't sure about Iris."

  "Thanks. I appreciate it. I thought you always knew everybody's business."

  "I gave up all that. I don't stick my nose anywhere it doesn't have to be anymore. I help where I can and I stay away where I can't. My business now is the survival of the group. I'm glad the group agreed to let Sarah join us. She'll be useful in keeping our bellies full. Empty bellies have been a major cause of destructive uprisings throughout history."

  "She'll work out fine, with all her skills. Besides they wouldn't turn down two turkeys. She was makin' googly eyes at Harry all during dinner tonight. He was googlin' her back, but tryin' to do it so nobody noticed. I'm surprised you didn't notice."

  "I noticed. Also yesterday. Even though I now keep my nose firmly stuck on my face and out of everybody's business, I still keep my eyes and ears open. So you want to go hunting again. Same area?" John shifted on the recliner.

  "Yeah. I heard lots of turkeys and I really liked the turkey dinners. A few more of those and I'll begin to feel human again. I actually went away from the table full."

  "Should we take Sarah with us?"

  "I don't see any reason to. Just tell Cho to watch out for her."

  "Not necessary. So, I'd better go to bed. You'll want to be up before dawn again."

  As John reached the foot of the stairs, Charles walked in from the kitchen.

  "What's up guys. You plotting again? Something fun, I hope. I enjoyed our trip to the distillery."

  "Yeah, Charles. It's taken me a lot of work to find enough things for you to blow up and George enough turkeys to regain his portly look. George has become addicted to turkey after only two meals and he wants to go find a few more." John nodded toward George.

  "I got addicted to a full belly a long time ago. That dinner just brought back those distant, wonderful memories."

  "Can I tag along? I've done a little hunting. Mostly two-legged animals. And turkey's have two legs, right?"

  John looked at George, who raised his eyebrows.

  Charles' only response was, "What?"

  "Wear comfortable shoes. George, give him the lecture. I'm going to bed."

  George hustled to the recliner and sunk into the soft cushions. Charles changed direction and took up a seat in the middle of the sofa, the next best place.

  "OK. Charles, here it is. I hunt, you carry the …"

  * * *

  The next morning at four-thirty, John, Charles and George were in the barn, ready to go. By five, the sun peeked over the mountains, making walking in the forest possible. They left by the back entrance, on foot.

  "How many turkeys did you hear last time, George?"

  "At least two more, three. Hard to say. Those gobblers really make a racket. Sounded like a dozen, but probably not. It's hard to believe any are still alive, with all the noise they make. They are pretty easy to find if you're within a few hundred yards and they're in the mood."

  "You guys walk the whole way?"

  George saw that the shoes Charles wore were hiking shoes, but the way Charles walked, he wasn't comfortable in them. "I said to wear walking shoes. We only have two cycles and not much gasoline. They don't go that fast in the woods anyway. Unless you have some horses stowed away, we'll walk. You ever ride, Charles?"

  "A little. Over the last few years. Mostly watching out for the Prince as he demonstrated his prize camels. From time to time, I think about those days in the Emirates and how I had decided civilization was coming to an end." Charles laughed a little. "If that was the end of civilization, what is this, hell?"

  "Oh come on, Charles. Is this so bad?"

  "By comparison with the available alternates," he said, "this is great. Compared to the lifestyle the Prince
had, it's total crap. No offense."

  "No offense taken. I can understand that," said John.

  "I wasn't happy about eatin' them horses," said George. "But Marceau did a good job on them, as usual. Who cut 'em up, John?"

  "Pierre said he thought it would be good training in case he had to become a vet in his spare time. I wish we had some horses now."

  "Weird guy, Pierre."

  "Weird, but valuable. Great shot and he patched up Harry like new, back when he was shot. And me too, of course."

  George and Charles both nodded agreement.

  "How much time did you spend designing this group, John?" said Charles.

  "In all the time this group has been together, no one has asked that question. Masako made a few comments about it in the early days. The answer is a little and a lot. I didn't have to do anything at the time I decided to bug out because I've always kept a list. Like a bug-out bag. I kept a bug-out partner list. It was a project for our last session at spy camp, three years ago. I just kept up with everybody on the list. What they were doing. Where they were. Added more as time passed. Some people just moved on with their lives and I took them off the list."

  "Everybody you knew or the valuable people you knew?" George asked, smiling.

  John patted George on the back. "I only knew valuable people, George. Like you and Charles. My stepfather taught me that long ago. He was a strange bird, too. Generally kept to himself. You could see it strained him to maintain friendships. He said, you only have so much time, don't waste it on people who are going to take your time and give nothing back. Right, Charles?"

  "Imminently practical. Not at all like you, eh, George?"

  "Sounds a bit self-centered. My dad always said I could learn somethin' worthwhile from everybody. You're a bit like John's stepfather, aren't you, Charles? No offense."

  "I suppose. No offense taken. No use denying it. It works for me. It wouldn't work for you."

  John stopped dead in his tracks. "Listen, guys. Ahead. Take cover."

  They all ran for a large tree stump that was surrounded by short bushes. In the distance, leaves crackled underfoot. Twigs snapped. The footsteps grew louder. John looked at Fred and Charles and said, "Definitely not turkeys. Be ready for anything." They all squatted low and peeked through the bushes.

  John turned his head left and right. He cupped a hand to his right ear, making sure which direction the footsteps were coming from to assure himself they had adequate cover. He cocked his rifle and waited.

  After a few minutes, two men, one tall and one short, stepped into a small clearing fifty yards ahead. The short man was pulling a rope, which was connected to a horse. Across the back of the horse was tied a woman. John pointed and put a finger to his lips and all three craned their necks around the boulder to see what was happening and to listen.

  "We'll stop here for lunch. As good a place as any. I'm tired. Walking through the brush is not like walking through the mall."

  "What about her?" the short one said, slapping the woman on the rear.

  "Take her down. Tie her to that tree," the tall one said, pointing to a large oak at the edge of the clearing.

  "Take off the gag?"

  "Sure," he said waving his hands in the air. "Nobody can hear her out here. We'll feed her. She needs to be in good shape when we deliver her. She has spirit. They'll like that. If she's starving, she'll be weak and out of spirit. Might take us another day or two. She'll be worth more if she's active. Pretty little thing. Too bad we can't keep her."

  "We could keep her a little while."

  "Forget it. If we mess her up, she'll be worth nothing. We have to keep our heads. We need the food more than we want her."

  "You sure we can't have both?"

  "Yes, forget it. Take her over there," he said, pointing at the large oak tree.

  The short man untied the woman from the horse and threw her across his shoulder, as she kicked and jumped, trying to escape. He sat her at the base of a large tree and encircled the tree and the woman with a rope. He bound her tightly, securing the rope with a knot in the back of the large tree. Finally, he untied her hands and jumped back. She quickly reached up and yanked the bag off her head, flailed an arm with a tightly drawn fist at him, tore the gag from her mouth and began screaming.

  John and George stiffened and began to stand up when Charles reached out and pushed them down. "Not now!" he whispered.

  Minutes later, she stopped screaming as her voice grew hoarse. Then, she began shouting at the two men, "You'll never get away with this! I was minding my own business. Not hurting anybody. I'll scratch your eyes out and cut off your balls. You just wait. I'll get you for this."

  The two men smiled and the tall man finally spoke.

  "You almost killed me at your house with that knife. You're lucky I didn't shoot you on the spot."

  "You kidnapped me. From my own home. Where are you taking me? I'm sick from riding flopped over that horse for hours. My stomach hurts. I'm gonna throw up."

  "Do what you want. Try not to get anything on you. I'd hate to have to strip you down to keep the stink off you. I'm gonna have some lunch. Want some beans?" he said taking a can from his backpack and pulling out a spoon.

  "I'm sick. What are you going to do with me?"

  "We're going to trade you. You're going to make a couple older men very happy. How much do you think they'll give us for her, Ned?"

  Fear spread across her face as she struggled harder against the rope holding her to the tree.

  "Six boxes of MRE's. She's young, great looking, nice figure and healthy. We only got two for that last one, but she was old."

  "Where do you figure they found all that food?"

  The two men finished off the beans and opened a can of peanuts.

  "Warehouse. One of 'em worked at a warehouse. The big one, the man not the warehouse, but it was a big warehouse, too. When the panic hit, they stole two big rigs and filled them up. Used a fork lift. Twenty minutes and they were outta there. Real quick like. Just grabbed big piles of boxes. They knew which ones. The other warehouse people tried to stop 'em, but these guys had guns. Shot a few people. That's what the little scrawny one said. Now, they're trading. Food for women. Food for fuel. Food for whatever they want. Everybody needs to eat. Not many of us are left."

  John looked at George and Charles and gave them a thumbs up. They returned the thumbs up. George, nocked an arrow, stepped around the bushes, drew back and released. John aimed his rifle and fired. Both of their targets fell over onto the ground. Charles cautiously made his way to the clearing, using trees for cover, pistol in hand, as John and George watched the two men for signs of life. Charles reached down and checked the first man's pulse. He shook his head and moved to the second and shook his head again. "Both dead. You guys are doing better."

  The woman, eyes wide, her back hard against the tree, stared at them without saying a word. Charles walked over and untied her from the tree. He gazed into her dark brown eyes and didn't make another move for a few seconds. She flinched and moved away from him.

  "It's all right. You OK? I'm Charles and these guys are George and John. We were hunting turkeys and we found you -- and your friends."

  After a moment, she finally rose to her feet, fell over onto Charles before straightening herself and said, "Thanks. I don't know what you heard, but they weren't my friends. What are you going to do with me?" Her voice was low and shaky.

  "We just got here and heard you coming. We don't have any plans," John said. "Your friends had some bad plans. Also, we're interested in where these guys with all the food are. Did your captors tell you anything?"

  "Why? You want to take me to the old guys and trade me? You figure they had a good deal and you want a piece of it?" She turned to run, but Charles grabbed her arm.

  "We intend you no harm, fair lady. I mean that."

  His understanding and quiet Scottish accent calmed her and she stopped trying to escape. Charles released her arm.

  "A
few boxes of MRE's? No," John said. "If we go see them, we want the whole lot. Not just a few boxes."

  George stepped closer to the woman. "Did you hear anything about where they were goin'?"

  She looked at each of her rescuers, if that's what they were. She had no idea whether she should tell them anything. They might also try to trade her for food, but she had to make a choice. Take a chance with these guys or run away and be captured again by someone else. And they had saved her, but for what purpose, she didn't know. Finally, she made a decision and spoke. "They were following a map. I saw it. The big one has it in his shirt pocket."

  Charles rifled the man's pockets and came back with the map, a small revolver and a wallet. Opening the map, he tapped an index finger on a point that was marked with an X. He flipped it around so she could see. "That's not where you came from, is it?"

  The woman took the map, turned it around and then back around. She looked for a few minutes, then placed her dirty finger on a spot. "I live around here."

  John, George and Charles huddled around the woman.

  "Here's where we are now," Charles said, pulling out a pen, making another X and circling where the woman's finger had been. "Almost a straight line. Did they have a GPS?"

  "I didn't see anything."

  Charles and George rifled through the pockets of the other man and then through the saddle bags on the horse. They found six MREs, a GPS, a box of shells, a compass, another revolver and some clothes.

  "You never said what you're going to do with me."

  "No, we didn't," John said. "Is this your horse?"

  "No, they had two. Something happened to the other one and they shot it."

  "What a waste," said George.

  "It wouldn't walk. What would you do? Let it suffer? Get eaten by a bear?"

  "Eat it. We're hungry, too."

  "That's terrible," she said, turning away and wondering whether these men were any better than the others.

  "OK," John said, after thinking for a few minutes and studying the map. "Here's how it is. Unless you have some useful talents, we don't need you. You'd just be another mouth to feed and we don't have enough food as it is. It looks like we could take you half-way back to your home without wasting too much time and let you go the rest of the way by yourself, if you like."