Once again the rage within me erupted, but this time my struggle to keep it contained was less successful. I obviously didn’t want to fight it anymore. I wanted it right there, ready to go when the time was right. I’d be taking no prisoners and would see only payback when I finally faced the demons that had ripped my world apart.
I’m coming to get you, Fields.
I hoped she’d hear me. I knew that even if she didn’t, she’d know I was out there, and that it would not be long before I rescued her. She’d know because she knew me. And in the last few months, she’d grown to know me better than anyone else ever had.
Walter came back and lowered his butt onto the cushion of the armchair. The lamp provided a fluttering orange haze onto the table between us, but I could barely see his face, and I was sure he could barely see mine. “You’re thinking about her again.”
“How could you tell?”
He chuckled softly. “Even in the dark, I can see that you look like a coiled spring.”
I didn’t reply; he was pretty perceptive.
“Try to relax, my friend. You need to be rested and ready to kick ass when you leave here.”
“I’m ready to kick ass right now.”
“I can tell. I’d probably feel the same way if someone had taken Madge away from me.”
“Every time I think of that, I want to...”
“Relax.”
I took a deep breath and lay back. It helped, so I closed my eyes and thought of other things. Despite my anger, my eagerness to jump up from the couch and rush outside to find her, I felt my exhausted body surrendering to the couch.
“How many others do you think there are?” Walter asked after a short silence.
“Like us?”
“Yeah.”
“Hopefully, more than we think.”
“I can’t help wondering where they are. If some of them have found one another and decided to stick together. Maybe a batch of them has decided to try and start things up again.”
“That would be too much to hope for. People like us are probably doing exactly what we’re doing.”
“Hiding?”
“It’s safer this way. Otherwise...”
“Yeah. You never know anymore. I’ve learned only one thing about people in my life, and that hasn’t changed in all these years. I learned it a long time ago, when I was a kid. They’re totally unpredictable.”
“That’s right. You never know what they’re gonna do.” I remembered a cooler filled with human penises, and a box crammed with human scalps. “For all we know, this Simon guy might have been a respectable business owner before all this happened.”
Walter stared at me for a few moments before he spoke. “My friend, people don’t change—not really. I’ve been around a long time. I’ve seen a lot of things—some good, some bad. Mostly bad, because people always tend to do the wrong thing when the pressure gets too much. This thing with Simon and his brood isn’t new. You know that as well as I do. Folks walking around with a few loose screws always look for ways to set themselves up above everyone else. Just about every administration I ever saw since I was a kid was guilty of that. It happened everywhere else, too. I was in grade school when this pint-sized character from the wrong side of the tracks—can’t recall the sick bastard’s name—made the news by starting up his own clan and sending his women to rob and murder innocent people. That happened in California, where they didn’t believe in killing murderers or psychos, so this nut job spent the rest of his days in prison.”
I knew what Walter was getting at. Fields practically said the same thing this morning, when we were going through the contents of the station wagon.
Besides, if what that kid had told me was true, the bastard had robbed a helpless old man, then pushed him down an abandoned well. Whatever he’d been before this no longer mattered.
“You’re right. It doesn’t matter what anyone used to be. What matters is what’s happening now.”
“People are either born good or bad. If they’re good, they’re gonna stay that way, no matter what. Otherwise, they’re gonna show their true colors at the first opportunity. I know this thing that killed off mostly everyone was bad—hell, it was horrible. But one thing it did do: it brought out everyone’s true nature.”
“A catastrophe usually does.”
“I don’t care if this Simon bastard was the damn pope. He’s a bad seed, and that ain’t gonna change. Look what he did with your lady. He went onto your place and took her. Not only is he a kidnapper, but he’s also a damn killer. He’s no different from that nut job in California. You send people out to do your killing for you, it makes you even guiltier than they are.”
Killer. I’d been called that many times before. And I was a killer. I’d been trained to kill, and for three years, I killed for my country. But the killing hadn’t stopped.
I had no idea who Simon was, where he was from, or if he had been trained to kill. All I knew was that he killed people he didn’t want around, people he didn’t need any more. He killed people who could no longer satisfy or gratify him.
I killed only for survival. Even if Walter was right, wasn’t the end result all that mattered? Was there any real difference between Simon and myself?
“So am I,” I finally said.
“You’re different, my friend.” He sat forward in the chair. “Whaddya think would’ve happened if those punks knew I wasn’t doped?”
Once again he was right. If they’d known Walter was rational, they would have considered him a threat and killed him.
“Don’t compare yourself to lowlifes like them,” Walter said. “You’re good. You’re decent. You put our mailbox back where it belonged. You knew it didn’t belong there, lying on the walk like that, so you picked it up and put it back. No one asked you to do that—you just did it. And you treated an old man you never even saw before with respect—don’t ever forget that. You didn’t know if I had a brain cell in my head that was still working, but that didn’t stop you from being a gentleman. You spoke kindly to me, the way gents talked to one another in the old days. Maybe you’ve killed people, but that don’t make you a killer—not deep-down. You’re a good man, and every once in a while you’ve got to do what’s necessary to survive. Sometimes that means killing someone. You’re not a killer, you’re a survivor.”
***
My eyes shot open.
That in itself was strange, because I couldn’t remember closing them. My thoughts reeled for a few moments as I struggled to piece together what might have happened. Then I remembered.
After talking with Walter, I’d lie back down, closed my eyes and tried to shut everything off, but all I could think about was getting back on the bike and looking for that abandoned farm. I knew I had to look for a place to hide while they brought Fields over to the well. And I had to find some way of killing them all without endangering Fields.
I wanted to leave, but my exhausted body kept telling me to lie there. I needed rest. Fields needed me to be rested when I went to find her. She knew I’d be of no use to her—or to myself—if I let the rage take hold of me. I needed to have a clear head and a clear state of mind.
My fatigue finally won out. It felt so wonderful to just lie there, so I didn’t move. The turmoil thrashing through me gradually vanished, and I surrendered to the exhaustion.
Sleep came quickly.
I sat bolt upright and gawked at the darkness engulfing me. The unfamiliar surroundings and smells drove me into an instant panic, but as my eyes adjusted, and I could distinguish the man sitting in the armchair facing me, my anxiety lessened. Consciousness drifted back, and with it, the last few hours. I sighed as the waves of panic within me ebbed back into nothingness.
“Walter?”
A snort. “Huh?” He shifted in the chair and pushed himself forward. He looked around the room, stared at me for a moment and yawned. “Guess I drifted off, too.” I heard the flick of a match. The haze from the kerosene lamp slowly added a soft orange ha
ze flowing up from the table. The flickering shadows behind Walter could have been eerie figures lurking in the darkness.
I pushed my legs over the edge of the sofa and rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”
Walter grunted into a standing position, hobbled over to the drapes and peered outside. “It’s still dark.” Yawning, he hobbled back to the chair and sank back into the cushions. “You were only asleep a couple hours. Go back and catch a few more winks. I’ll...”
“No.” I needed to be out there, hunting. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard a voice in my dream, if the voice belonged to Fields or if it was just my anxiety taking over. Whatever it was, I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Bad things happened when you left things to chance. Bad things had already happened; I didn’t want them to worsen. “I’ve got to get out there. They could be bringing her out here to dump her somewhere right now.”
“Like I said, son, it’s still dark. They’ll probably wait till it’s light...”
“I can’t take that chance.” The more I thought about it, the more I could feel the panic struggling back. Even if I hadn’t actually heard a voice in my dream, I knew I hadn’t much time. Simon and his band of young thugs could already be on the road with Fields.
I picked up the Ruger and shoulder holster from the table and squeezed back into it. Then I slipped the .38 back in Fields’ pancake holster and slid the .22 Bobcat down my pants pocket. A bottle of water sat on the table, about a foot from the kerosene lamp. It was nearly half full. I took a healthy sip, then spilled some onto my opened palm and used it to splash my face. It did the trick, and I was instantly awake.
“I’ve got to find that farm. Do you have any idea if there’s a farm out here anywhere?”
“There are three or four of ’em—at least, there used to be. Dairy farms, mostly. All are abandoned and run-down, of course. I haven’t seen or heard anyone out there—at least, not the few times I snuck out in the evenings, looking for a place to dump trash.”
“This one would have a well.”
“They all have wells, son.”
His statement slammed the reality home. This was the country. Every residence out here had a well. The only thing different about this one was that the opening would have to be accessible. And since Simon had been using it to dump bodies, it would have to be deep.
How would I find it?
I suddenly realized I could be going about this the wrong way. I already knew where they lived—why was I wasting my time and energy trying to figure out how I could find their dump spot out here in the woods?
I wanted to slap myself for not considering this sooner.
I had to get back to their compound and work from there. But this time, I couldn’t get caught. I’d already snuck into their place and killed one of them before getting away. Now that they knew I was too dangerous to approach, they wouldn’t bother trying to bring me in alive.
I was seriously outnumbered. I’d seen at least a dozen of them but suspected there were even more living there. My saving grace was my military training, and that I’d been using it almost constantly the last six months. My reflexes were still good, my aim still excellent, and my gut just as reliable as ever.
Even so, I had to consider the fact that my only means of escape was a bike. In a truck, they could hunt me down in seconds. And if I tried following their truck to the well, they could lose me in even less time.
If only I could get to Uncle Joe’s truck.
Even that option came with its own double-edged sword. The truck was big, noisy, and difficult to maneuver on these bumpy, winding roads. Unlike the bike, they’d spot it in a heartbeat and start shooting. I wouldn’t be able to shoot back for fear of Fields getting caught in the crossfire. Even if they didn’t shoot me, they’d surely damage the truck. I’d be on foot, out in the middle of nowhere, and the gang could easily hunt me down.
“Moss?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re not gonna lie back down, are ya?”
“Too much on my mind.”
“I figured as much. So, as long as you ain’t going back to sleep, tell me your plans.”
“You know my plans.”
“You want her back, but you can’t get at her, and you’re wondering how you can do it.”
“That’s about it.”
He sat back in his chair. In the dim haze of the lamp I could see him staring at the ceiling.
“Talk to me, Walter.”
“I’m thinking of Madge.”
“What about her?”
“I’m thinking of what I’d do to get her back.”
“What would you do?”
He shrugged. “Just about anything.”
“Yes, but what does this tell me...”
“It might not tell you what you really need to know—not in black and white ... but it should tell you what’s at stake. You know, it really doesn’t matter what you need to do to get her back, just so long as you do get her back. If it was me, I’d damn well do whatever it took, and if I had to kill every damn one of those bastards to get her, I’d make damn sure I had my guns loaded and ready.”
“But I can’t risk shooting them all without putting her in danger.”
“Sounds to me like you’re being a tad cautious about all this.”
“I have to be cautious. Otherwise...”
“Tell me about her, son.”
“Walter, I don’t have time to sit here and...”
“From what you already told me, this lady of yours sounds pretty fine.”
“She’s the best woman any man could hope to have.”
“She’d have to be, wouldn’t she?”
“How’s that?”
“For you to wanna risk everything.”
For me, Fields was everything. She was all I cared about. And this was why I wanted to be so careful. I couldn’t bear it if she was hurt because of something I’d done. “She’s everything to me, Walter. She saved my life. She’s had my back ever since we hooked up. I’d be dead if I wasn’t for her.”
“Then I’d say you’re underestimating her, son.”
“How’s that?”
“If she’s all you say, then she’s smart enough to know you and how you work. She’ll know you’re coming to get her, and she’ll probably know how you’ll go about doing it. Most of all, she’s probably smart enough to know to duck at the right time—wouldn’t you say?”
I hadn’t thought about it that way, but as soon as he’d said it, I realized he was absolutely right. Fields had survived an attack by three roving TABs. She’d got the drop on me ... and overtook a female TAB ... and helped us get out of that underground facility.
And she’d saved my life this morning.
“You’re right, Walter. I have been underestimating her. She’s tough, and can be a real badass when the chips are down.”
“She’d have to be. She’s just like you, ain’t she?”
“We’re a team. It doesn’t get any better than that.” I got up from the sofa. “I have to get back to Simon’s place before they take her anywhere. I’m going there, and I’m taking out as many as I can, and if I know Fields as well as I think I do, she’ll be right there, taking out a few of them on her own.”
Walter grunted out of the armchair. “I guess you know what you’re doing, then.”
“Walter, I’ve got to make this short.” I held out my hand. “It’s been nice, and I’m really glad we met.”
“You’re going back there on that bike?”
“It’s the fastest way I know.”
Walter scratched the back of his neck and grinned. “I think I might have something that’ll get you there a little faster.”
Before I could reply, he’d already picked up the kerosene lamp, turned and led the way through the cluttered kitchen.
FOURTEEN
A stack of large boxes piled six feet high stood against the wall at the other end of the long, cluttered room. Walter easily pushed them a couple of feet to the right.
A door appeared where the pile had once been. He eased it open and extended his arm. The light from the kerosene lamp spread straight ahead, casting eerie shadows into the garage.
A sleek, metallic-blue classic Chevy sat in the single stall, gleaming in the hazy light. Judging by its impeccable paint job and glittering glass, it had obviously been cared for over the years.
“Wow ...” I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
Walter chuckled at my reaction. “It’s a ‘68 Chevy Nova SS, with a 396 engine,” he said proudly. “A beauty, ain’t it?”
“It looks almost ... new.”
“It belonged to my son. George bought it years ago. He’d flunked out of college and enlisted in the Marines. He saw it when he was stationed at Parris Island. He saved up all his money, borrowed some from Madge and me, and bought it. After Boot Camp, he had a week’s furlough before they were gonna send him to California. He drove it here. He told us ... he’d be back to claim it when he came home.”
Walter had used the word “belonged.” “He ... never came back?”
Walter didn’t reply.
“I can’t possibly take this, Walter.” The thought of taking it away from its home made me feel evil. This was the man’s prized possession. His son’s pride and joy.
“George would want you to. This baby really flies. Three hundred and seventy-five horses. Handles fairly easy, too. You’ll need it if you wanna get where you need to be before it turns light.”
I wanted to speak, but the words caught in my throat. A man I’d only known a few hours was offering me a classic car his son had left him, and I had no way of thanking him or paying him back. I couldn’t even promise him I could take proper care of the car.
“I feel really funny about this.”
“I’m offering it to you.”
The sincerity in his eyes touched me deeply. I still couldn’t accept the fact that I’d met someone like him in this cold, frightening world of death. He was like an older version of Reed.
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