by James Hunt
“All right, Dennis.” Mulls nodded, unsmiling. “All right.” He shook his head and then chuckled. “Christ, you think you would—”
But Mulls stopped, looking past Dennis down Main Street. Dennis frowned and then turned, his expression morphing into a smile.
Covered in snow and ice and looking half dead, Jimmy strutted into town at the helm of a large cluster of snow-covered orange jumpsuits.
“Son of a bitch.” Dennis laughed, performing a slow clap as he walked to meet Jimmy and wrapped him in a bear hug. “You squirrely son of a bitch! Look at you!” He clapped Jimmy on the shoulders, and bits of ice broke away from his clothes. “We thought the storm got you.”
Jimmy chattered his teeth together, and a goofy grin crinkled the left side of his face. “I-I-I t-t-thought-t-t w-e-e, co-co—” He shut his eyes, trying to concentrate. “Could make it through.” He huffed in fatigue and wobbled on both legs.
“Let’s get you warmed up.” Dennis stepped around Jimmy and opened his arms in welcome to the fresh meat for his grinder. “We’ve got heat, women, and booze, gentlemen. Just head on down to the Convict Motel.” Dennis laughed, and the frozen masses shuffled past.
Once they were gone and inside, only Mulls and Dennis remained on the street. The pair of men stared each other down, but it was Mulls who shook his head and backed down first. And when the big man had walked away, Dennis slowly recounted the number of men that Jimmy had just added to his arsenal. Fifty. Fifty to his already robust forty.
Once fed, bathed, and satisfied with a woman, they’d do whatever he told them to do. Because just as Mulls understood, Dennis was the hand that fed them. Those pigs wouldn’t know what hit them.
“Dennis!”
He stopped and turned to find another breathless man wandering into his town. It took a minute for him to recognize him, but the tuft of red hair gave Ken away. That little fire crotch was supposed to be in the valley town.
Ken skidded on his heels to a stop, hunched over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. He finally straightened himself out, wiping away a stringy collection of spit and snot. “The town’s gone.”
The muscles along Dennis’s face tightened in anger, his tone flat but stern. “What?”
Ken rubbed his palms on his thighs again. “Christ, I barely made it out of there alive.”
Dennis twitched, and the bug burrowed. The madness crept over him, and he turned away from Ken, stumbling aimlessly around Main Street. Rage gained momentum as the realization sunk in.
His town was gone? One of his towns?
Dennis froze, but that bug inside his head tunneled through his reason and control. “How many?”
“What?” Ken asked.
Dennis turned, his eyes focused on that red-haired bastard in the middle of his street. “How. Many. Were there?”
Ken took one step backward. “I-I don’t know. I didn’t really get a good look, but if I had to guess, um...” He swallowed and trembled. “A few?”
Surprise flashed over Dennis’s face, but only a moment before anger retook control. “A few?” Snow crunched beneath Dennis’s boot as he stepped forward slowly. “We had eight men stationed in the valley.” Quick as a snakebite, Dennis lunged and curled both hands around Ken’s throat, pulling him intimately close. “A few fucking people took back a town that had eight armed inmates?”
Ken struggled for breath. “We didn’t see them coming.”
The bug in Dennis’s mind burrowed faster and faster, eating up his brain as his hand tightened around Ken’s throat. The man whacked at Dennis’s arm, fighting for his life, and then just as quickly as Dennis grabbed him, he let go.
Ken collapsed to his knees, hands on his throat, coughing and gasping for air.
Dennis turned away from Ken, hiding the pistol that he removed from his holster. “Three people killed eight of my men.”
“They only killed seven,” Ken said.
Dennis spun around and fired, spraying Ken’s brain over the snow. He holstered the pistol. “No. Eight.” The bug in his brain calmed, and he watched blood crawl from Ken’s body like crimson fingers along the ground.
Dennis wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but when he turned around, Mulls was behind him. “They lost the town. He ran.” He strutted over to Mulls, whose eyes were still locked on Ken’s body. It wasn’t until Dennis clapped him on the back that Mulls finally looked away. “Cowards die, Mulls.” He laughed and then headed back inside. “Get the boys ready. We’ve got work to do!”
6
Kate sat outside Luke’s room, the door closed as the doctor made good on his promise to remove the bullet from his chest. The inside of the cabin was dead quiet save for the occasional whisper. Kate had wanted to be inside during the surgery, but the doctor didn’t want any distractions. The procedure was hard enough without all the necessary equipment, and he didn’t need her breathing down his neck. It took every ounce of Kate’s willpower not to choke him.
She and Mark had resigned themselves to the kitchen, each of them tapping a foot or hand nervously. Luke’s condition had worsened by the time they’d returned, and even if the doctor was able to get the bullet out, there was no guarantee that the infection wouldn’t have spread or that the antibiotics that Rodney had would kill it.
Kate turned left, eyeing the twenty-plus people in the living room, sipping water and nibbling on crackers and soup. She didn’t know what they were going to do with them. There wasn’t enough room in the cabin for an entire town to survive.
Rodney stepped from his room on the opposite side, weaving around the huddled bodies on the floor, and joined her and Mark in the kitchen. He crossed his arms and gestured toward the door. “Anything?”
“Not yet,” Kate answered, her voice hoarse from staying quiet.
Rodney checked the pocket watch he carried. “It’s been almost an hour.”
“I know.” Kate eyed the wooden slats on the door. She had stared at that door for so long that she had every groove of the wood memorized.
“Listen, we need to talk,” Rodney said, looking at both Kate and Mark. “Outside.”
“Yeah.” Kate was the last to leave the kitchen, and though she didn’t want anything to steal her attention away from Luke’s surgery, a part of her thought the distraction might help speed things along.
The contrast from the warmth of the cabin and the cold outside shocked Kate’s senses when she stepped outside. She flipped her collar up to guard herself against the stiff wind and joined Mark and Rodney in the snow.
“I think we all know we don’t have the room for these people,” Rodney said. “As much as I’d like for them to stay, logistically, it’s just not possible.”
“Can’t we take them back to the town?” Mark asked. “I mean, all of the bad guys are dead, right?”
“One got away,” Kate answered, her eyes lost in the sheer whiteness that blanketed the forest.
“I think having them return to the town is the best option,” Rodney answered. “I just don’t know how we’re going to convince them. They don’t have food, or water, and they know we have both here. There’s nothing stopping them from overpowering us.”
“How many people did you say attacked the hospital?” Kate asked, looking to Rodney.
“It was hard to tell, but it looked like at least a dozen.”
“Then let’s assume they have three times that,” Kate replied, pointing toward the cabin. “We get these people on our side, and we’ve got a chance at fighting back.”
“We don’t need to fight back, Kate,” Rodney said. “Those people aren’t our problem.”
“You saw what those animals were doing,” Kate said, her tone laced with accusation. “God knows who else they’re doing it to.”
“You want to throw us in the middle of some kind of war?” Rodney asked. “People will die, Kate. Hiding might not be the most noble thing to do, but it’s the smartest. We’ve risked too much already.”
“It’ll only be a matt
er of time before they find this place.”
The three of them turned back toward the cabin door. Stacy, the woman whom Kate freed from rape, clutched a blanket around her shoulders.
Shivering, she stepped forward, nearing the circle but not joining. “They talked about spreading through this part of the state like some type of conquerors. They’re a disease. And if they find this place they’ll kill it.”
“And what would you have us do?” Rodney asked.
“Fight them.”
Rodney laughed, shaking his head. “And who will do the fighting? The people in that town didn’t bother fighting back, and the ones that did are dead.” He looked to Kate and Mark. “You think taking in those people will give us an army? It doesn’t.”
Stacy stepped closer. “Those men talked a lot. I don’t know how much of it was truth, but I can tell you what I know. We can use it to bring them down.”
“All right,” Mark said, raising his hands to calm the growing eagerness. “Let’s just take this one step at a time.” He gestured Stacy into the circle. “What do you know?”
Stacy’s blanket was lifted by a strong gust of wind, and she pulled it tighter around her body. “They’re taking over towns. There are six of them up here that are strung pretty close together. I don’t know if they have all of them under their thumb, but from the number of men I saw sweep through our town, I’d bet they do.” She winced and touched the lump on her lip.
“How many were there?” Rodney asked.
“A few dozen,” Stacy answered. “But from the sound of it, they had more that stayed behind at the other towns like ours.”
“Did they say what they’re doing?” Mark asked.
“They’re doing whatever they want,” Stacy answered. “They think there isn’t anyone around to stop them.” She turned to Rodney. “I guess they were right.”
Rodney crossed his arms. “Listen, lady, I understand your worry. I really do, but we don’t have the resources to fight them.”
“Sure we do,” Kate said. “We have guns, and ammunition, and—”
“Nobody that knows how to use them,” Rodney said.
“We could teach them,” Kate said, looking at Rodney. “You taught us.”
Rodney sighed and rubbed his forehead. “We don’t know what we’re up against. We don’t know how many men they really have, and we don’t know what kind of weaponry they’re packing.” He eyed Kate and then Stacy. “I’m sorry, but the best I can do is take you back to the town with some supplies.”
“I can help you train,” Stacy said, trying her best not to sound desperate. “I was in the military. I wasn’t in combat, but I helped with logistical preparation with the army. We can set up a system. I can help get us organized.”
Rodney laughed and flapped his arms at his sides. “This is crazy. I’m not looking to start a war.”
“One’s already been started,” Stacy said. “Look, if you think that those people won’t eventually stumble onto this place, then you’re a fool. You need the numbers to fight back.” She straightened, fighting the cold. “One of the guards mentioned a highway patrol station off the highway. They’re worried that they’ll be found out, put back in jail.”
“There aren’t any more jails,” Rodney said. “And if there were cops in that station, they’re long gone by now.”
“How do you know that?” Kate asked.
“Look around, Kate!” Rodney gestured to the empty forest. “People ran. People fled. We fled. We came here to survive, and that’s not going to happen if we decide to go looking for a fight!” He spun around and violently kicked the snow, sending up a drift that caught in the wind. He kept his back to them for a long time, hands on his hips, his head lowered.
Kate walked to him slowly but didn’t step around to face him. “Rodney.” When he didn’t answer, she took another half step, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Rodney.”
He turned his head slowly. “You’re willing to expose us? Expose your family?”
“I’m doing this to keep them safe,” Kate answered. “To keep us all safe.”
Rodney slumped his shoulders then turned, his face still turned down to his boots. “All right, Kate.” He looked at Stacy. “Can you show me where the highway patrol station is?”
Stacy nodded. “Yeah. I caught a glimpse of one of their maps.”
Rodney shook his head as he stepped past them and headed toward the door. Stacy looked back at Kate and mouthed “Thank you” as she followed Rodney inside, leaving Kate and Mark in the snow alone.
“He’s not wrong,” Mark said.
“I know,” Kate replied, watching the front door close behind Stacy. “But neither am I.”
Mark took her hand, and the pair walked back inside, returning to their sentry post in the kitchen, and time returned to its slow, crawling pace. She closed her eyes, still clutching Mark’s hand, and for the first time since Luke was born, she whispered a prayer in her head.
Don’t take him from me. Don’t let me have brought him this far for nothing. He’s a good boy. Her lip quivered. He’s my son.
Mark noticed the tears and pulled Kate close. They held onto each other for a long time, and Kate sniffled, trying not to lose control. She just had to believe it would turn out okay. For once, she had to push aside the odds and the logic and the calculations. She needed faith.
The door opened, and the doctor stepped out. Blood covered both hands and stretched up to his elbows, with matching stains on the front of his shirt. He wiped the crimson away in dark smears on a towel, and the sight of so much blood made Kate fear the worst.
“I was able to get the bullet out,” the doctor said. “And I was able to remove a lot of the infected tissue. But he lost a lot of blood.” He turned back inside the room. “He’s resting now, but it’ll take some time before we know for sure if he’ll pull through.”
“But he’s okay?” Kate asked, holding back tears.
“Yes,” the doctor said. “For now.”
“Can we see him?” Mark asked.
“Yes, but try not to wake him.”
The doctor stepped aside, and Kate walked in first, fighting to keep her steps quiet and calm as she approached Luke’s bedside. A fresh white bandage was stretched over his chest and shoulder. Blood covered most of the sheets. His cheeks were pale, and when Kate grabbed his hand, Luke’s fingers were ice cold.
Mark stood behind her, both hands on her shoulders. “He’s going to be okay. He just needs some rest, and he’ll be fine in the morning.”
Kate nodded, her lips pursed as more tears fell. She kissed Luke’s hand, and then she started to cry. “I don’t want to lose him. I can’t lose him.”
“You won’t,” Mark said, whispering into her ear.
The couple held each other tight and close, watching over their son. They remained still and quiet for a long time, both hoping for the best.
Rodney made Stacy go over the locations a few times, and the exact conversation she’d heard from the men who’d attacked the town. He wanted to see if he could find inconsistencies with her story. He couldn’t, which made the situation even more dangerous.
If the woman’s estimates were correct, then there were close to forty men spread over the remaining five towns. Forty armed and dangerous convicts against two dozen scared men, women, and children. He didn’t like those odds at all.
Their only hope rested in the highway patrol station. He wasn’t sure how many officers would still be there, especially with so much time passed since the EMP struck, but if anything, they might be able to find additional ammunition and guns.
Rodney looked at his closet, hoping he wouldn’t have to use what was behind those doors. It was a last resort. He examined the map for a final time and then walked back toward the living room.
Most of the refugees camped in his living room were asleep, exhausted by the walk from town. The food they’d eaten was probably the first real stuff they’d tasted in a couple days. And with full bellies and heav
y eyes, they passed out right where they sat. All but two.
A mother and daughter sat in the corner. The daughter sobbed quietly, her only signs of distress the gentle shake of her shoulders. Her mother stroked the girl’s hair, her eyes closed, the motion repetitive, the sight reminding Rodney of a swing that had been pushed and never lost momentum.
“You’re the man who saved us?”
Rodney jumped a little at the question, not realizing he’d been staring at her the whole time. He cleared his throat, keeping his voice down. “I was one of the people that came into the town, yes.”
The mother smiled. “My name is Yvonne.” She looked down to her daughter. “This is the first time she’s slept since those men came into town.” The smile faded, and the wrinkles along her eyes and mouth smoothed out. “They tried to take her from me. Made all of these threats. My husband, he—”
The tear fell first, and the wrinkles returned as she scrunched her face and lifted her hand from her daughter’s light brown hair. It hovered there for a moment, and then she covered her mouth, stifling some sobs.
Rodney watched from afar, at least three other sleeping bodies between the two of them, making any attempt at physical contact impossible. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Yvonne wiped her eyes. “Thank you.” She restarted the stroking of the daughter’s hair, and kept her voice low. “It was very nice of you, taking us all in like you did.”
Rodney nodded, keeping the knowledge that he’d only gone to retrieve the doctor’s daughter. He never had any intention of bringing all of these people back. But then again, he never had the intention of letting Kate and her family tag along.
“Did you,” she paused, raising her eyebrows, “lose anyone?”
“No.” Rodney fidgeted with his hands. “I was alone before the EMP.” When the mother frowned at that last word, Rodney leaned forward. “It’s what caused all of this to happen. Killed every piece of technology controlled with a computer chip.” He snapped his fingers. “Faster than the blink of an eye.”