Ranger Martin and the Search for Paradise

by Jack Flacco

  “What about you, Randy?” Matty asked.

  “I’m not picky. I’ll be happy sitting at the kitchen table eating a fresh bowl of pasta only Ranger could make.” A smile drifted across Randy’s face remembering the night when Wildside had accepted him as a friend.

  As the truck approached the silo, the desert wind blew sand into the vehicle. In spite of the heat, Matty and Randy rolled up their windows. If this was an omen, then they were in for a challenge they had yet to discover. Neither Ranger nor Jon had touched their windows. Their side was clean.

  The sun dipped in the horizon and the truck’s frontend came within an inch of the facility’s outer fence. Slipping the vehicle into park, Ranger fished through his right pocket to pull an access card for the terminal box fastened to the frame of the outside gate. Before leaving, they had secured the facility with the keycard and all Ranger had to do was swipe. At least, that was what he thought.

  Ranger swiped the access car, but a long beep sounded from the box. A red light illuminated the night. He tried again, this time switching the card around. He thought that perhaps he made a mistake inserting the car the wrong way. Another long beep greeted him.

  “What’s the matter?” Matty asked, scanning the front gate and beyond.

  “My card. It’s not working.”

  “Maybe you inserted it the wrong way.” Jon said.

  “I tried it both ways.”

  Having scanned the inside gate, Matty noticed something beyond it. “Ranger, don’t look now, but I think someone’s watching us.”

  “What do you mean?” He tried his card once more but only to hear that annoying beep again.

  “The camera. It’s moving.”

  Ranger noticed it, too. The kids in the back edged closer to the front seats with their eyes fixed on the entrance. The camera focused a few times, and the whir of its motor, as it panned from one side to the other, became obvious. Someone else had taken over the silo.

  “What are we going to do, Ranger?” Matty asked.

  * * *

  The radar didn’t beep anymore. It emitted a long sound. Whatever had arrived outside the gate was now on top of them. Sunglow traded a glance with Mark. Who were they and what did they want? Refuge? Supplies? Everything? The last time the kids had anything to do with anyone on the outside they nearly got themselves killed. No, they weren’t going to let anyone push them from their safe place. Not this time.

  Another monitor lit with an access denied message in bold writing.

  “What do they want?” Silver whispered.

  “Not sure. Whoever they are, they have a keycard to access this place.” Mark said.

  “If they have the card, why isn’t it working for them?” Sunglow asked, rubbing her forehead in an attempt to remove the tension that had built to a headache.

  “I disabled the access box when we first came here.” Silver said. A slight smile penetrated his lips.

  “Can they still get in?” Mark asked.

  “Not if I can help it. I have full control to this place through these monitors. Nothing can get in or out without my say-so.”

  “Good.”

  Sunglow stared at the monitor then flipped a switch to get a closer look at the occupants in the truck. She eased the camera with a joystick and zoomed in. Ranger came into focus first. She noticed his cap, the scowl he wore on his face that surrendered his irritation, and the worn flannel shirt. She then panned to Matty, who sported tired eyes. The redhead looked as if she hadn’t showered in days. Her face didn’t radiate happiness. Sunglow then focused the camera on the backseat. About eight years-old, Jon didn’t have that sad countenance she had come to expect with the other kids she’d met along the way. His smile made him seem almost happy. Lastly, she noticed Randy who wore a straight face throughout. Nothing special about any of them. They didn’t look dangerous, she thought.

  * * *

  One more swipe and the access box beeped again. Ranger stared directly at the camera as the glow of the red light hit his face. The color brought out his anger.

  “Ranger, you didn’t answer my question. What are we going to do?” Matty asked as she slowly eased her hand behind her back and pulled her gun into view, making sure the camera didn’t catch a glimpse. She wanted an exit strategy, just in case if it all turned bad.

  “You don’t think it’s the military, do you?” Jon asked.

  “If it was the military, we’d be dead by now.” Randy said.

  “I don’t think it’s military either.” Ranger answered and scratched his head. “They would’ve made it obvious that they had come back. They’d have the entire area lit like the Fourth of July, and soldiers would’ve shown their guns by now. No, I think someone else is in there.”

  “Who?” Matty asked.

  For a time, everyone stared at the camera and wondered the same thing—who or what took over the facility that now controlled it?

  Ranger and the kids were not having a good night for their return home.

  * * *

  Inside the silo, with only the green glow of the radar illuminating their faces, the three teens couldn’t tear their gazes from the monitor that featured the occupants of the truck. Sunglow blinked a few times to make sure what she saw made sense. It didn’t make sense. Why would three kids accompany a man in a truck who looked as if he had just walked away from a battle after having defeated half the state of Missouri of zombies? Maybe he was their father, she thought. Maybe he was their uncle. Not a stranger. It didn’t seem logical, at least not to her.

  Silver and Mark had the same questions floating through their minds. Why would the man have a keycard for the silo? He didn’t look military, and the kids certainly weren’t military either.

  Time had stopped while the three attempted to pull their attention away from the monitor.

  A buzzer sounded on the dashboard where Silver had been leaning on with his elbows. It caused him to jump in his chair. It buzzed again, but this time longer. The kids exchanged glances with the same question, “What was that?”

  “Hello? Is there anybody in there?” The voice from a speaker asked.

  “Who are they?” Silver asked.

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Mark said, rubbing the back of his neck trying to ease the tension from the stress.

  “Am I jumping to conclusions? I’m not jumping to conclusions. What about you, Sunglow? Are you jumping to conclusions?”

  Sunglow didn’t answer.

  “See, we’re not jumping to conclusions.” Silver flung his arms in the air as the excitement overtook him. He rose from his seat and paced the perimeter of the dashboard.

  “We’re safe in here. They have to get through the fence, unlock the bay doors and travel the elevator down to where we’re located. You’ve locked this place down. Didn’t you, Silver?” Mark asked.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

  “See. Nothing to worry about.”

  A moment passed and Sunglow chewed on the inside of her cheek. Somehow, self-mutilating parts of her body had become her coping mechanism during these strange days. Unlike Silver though, she kept her cool as she walked through their predicament. It didn’t take long for her to note her observation. “They know someone’s in here.”

  “What do you mean?” Silver asked.

  “The camera.” Mark said already having had put the whole thing together. “They saw the camera moved. They know we’re in here.”

  “I don’t know who you are. Obviously, not military, but you’re in our home.” Ranger’s voice resonated in the silo’s empty corridors. “We’re not the ones who you should fear. We’re the ones who kill the undead. Are you listenin’?”

  Silver walked up to Mark and said, “Maybe if we ignore them, they’ll go away. That typically works, don’t you think?”

  “Just like this zombie nightmare we’re living, right?” Sunglow asked. “I’m still waiting to wake up.”

  “It explains why I’ve killed more of those rot-bags than you.”
>
  “It takes me one bullet for a kill. Can you say that?”

  “They’re dead, aren’t they?”

  “Stop it.” Mark dove between and separated them. “We can play I-killed-more-than-you later. For now, we have a problem. We have people knocking on our door. Who? I’m not sure. And I don’t want to know what they’re capable of.”

  Frustration pushed Silver to toss an empty coffee mug across the room smashing it against the wall on the other side. He knew Mark was right, he had to trust him and not let it get to him.

  Sunglow had the same idea, but she wasn’t going to be the first to apologize—not to Silver, who had been acting snippy ever since arriving at the silo.

  * * *

  Jon edged forward from the backseat, grabbed the two front seats and poked his head through them. His gaze fell on the access box on the left of Ranger, then to the camera. Every movement he made, the camera followed. The more he stared at it the more he shrunk backward until the awkwardness vanished. All he had left was curiosity.

  “What are you thinking, kid.” Ranger asked, noticing the boy’s expressionless face.

  “Well, if it’s not military, they have to be like us. They came here thinking they found the best place to hide from the belly-mashers. I wouldn’t say anything either if I was in there. I’d hope whoever was outside would leave.”

  Both Matty and Ranger nodded their heads. In his naive way, Jon was right. Whoever was in there would never surrender their find for strangers. It would be too dangerous. They wouldn’t know if the strangers had bad intentions, such as taking over the silo and killing them.

  No, whoever was in there was in there for good, but Ranger had an idea. He adjusted his hat on his head, rubbed his nose as if he needed to blow the evening sand from his nostrils, and stretched his arm to press the access box button. He held it down for a long while until the words gathered in his brain. He said, “My name is Ranger Martin. To my right is Matty; behind me are Jon and Randy. Now you know who we are. I know what you’re thinkin’. Y’all gotta understand, we’ve been in the same situation as you. If I were you, I wouldn’t let us in either. Hear me out. We don’t mean you harm. Let us in to get what’s ours, and we’ll leave. You can keep the silo.”

  A look washed over Matty as if she were saying aloud, “Are you kidding? We were here first. I sure hope you’re lying.”

  Ranger continued, “All we want is to get our things we left behind when we abandoned the silo. We’ll be out of your way in the morning. We don’t want anything else. I promise. I’m a man of my word. Ask the kids next to me.”

  The camera stopped moving. It stared at Ranger, frozen in place by his words.

  He pressed the button again, waited a moment, then said, “Look, we’ve been travelin’ for a while now, fightin’ the military, runnin’ away from lunatics, and killin’ the undead. We’re tired, hungry and this was our last chance of findin’ peace. You know what that means, I’m sure of it. Peace. No trouble. No pain. Just livin’.”

  Again, the stillness of the camera made the air around the conversation awkward.

  “We,” Ranger paused, swallowed, then whispered, “We’ll leave you be. Accept our apologies for intrudin’. We never meant no harm to you. Enjoy our hospitality.”

  Matty couldn’t believe her ears. She hid her gun in its spot and allowed disappointment to become a reality. She could tell Ranger was serious. He wouldn’t joke about a thing like this. At least he was honest about it.

  Ranger pulled his arm inside the truck. With his opposite hand, he shifted gears to back the vehicle from the front gate. The brake lights flooded the night as he shifted again into drive with the hope of them changing their mind at the last minute.

  When Ranger and the kids began to drive away, the lights to the silo inside the perimeter fencing grew. A blue hue covered the small area. Once locked to intruders, the gate flipped open. Ranger gawked at the gate in the rearview mirror. They couldn’t miss it, since the lights covered the inside of the truck and lit the back of their heads.

  Chapter 3

  Inside the silo, Silver and Sunglow held their guns tight as Ranger’s truck descended to the bottom of the elevator shaft. During its trip, Mark pulled his gun and held it to his side. Not knowing what to expect, they were ready to defend themselves, should Ranger and his friends have decided to exact revenge for taking over the silo. A ramp leading to the platform waited for its guests to make an appearance. Boxes and crates surrounded the platform of supplies Ranger and his team had amassed over a short period. They had hoped that one day they’d use the goods for their retirement. Retirement sounded like such an outdated concept, given everyone was either dead or undead.

  After the elevator’s base had rotated the vehicle a full one-eighty, the truck came to rest at the bottom of the shaft. Mark and Silver took their individual positions on each side of the landing platform. Sunglow faced the end of it where a series of metal poles prevented vehicles from going any further into the silo.

  Before Ranger could back the truck on to the platform, Silver pointed his gun at the driver’s head and said, “Get out of the truck and keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Ranger quickly pointed out, “How can we get out of the truck if I can’t back the truck out of the shaft?”

  “Let us worry about that. Now, all of you raise your hands. I should see four pairs of hands.”

  “You’re making it difficult for us to get anywhere without my hands on the wheel.”

  “Shut up!” Silver cocked his gun.

  Sunglow approached Silver and whispered, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “Not really, but they don’t know that.”

  Inside the truck, Ranger saw Silver and Sunglow chatting. His anger began to churn his stomach. He wanted to get out and smack them all. They had no right to take the silo. If he had it his way, he’d kick everyone out and make it his again.

  Standing three feet from the vehicle, Mark caught a glimpse of Ranger’s eyes staring at him in his rearview mirror. If he didn’t know better, the idea had seeped into his mind that Ranger didn’t have the gaze of a killer. Then again, he wondered what the gaze of a killer looked like.

  The truck rested on the base of the elevator with very little room to negotiate any movement other than backing out. There wasn’t even enough room to open the doors, so Ranger couldn’t step out of the vehicle to explain.

  “Can I at least back the truck on to the platform? Otherwise we’ll be here all night.” Ranger said.

  Silver looked at Sunglow, who shrugged. This caused him to gaze at Mark, who also wore a blank expression on his face. He then said, “Okay. Yeah. Fine. Back the truck on to the platform, but the others have to keep their hands where I can see them.”

  “You’re telling me I can put my hands down?” Ranger asked. “I didn’t hear I could.”

  “Right. You can put your hands down and back it up.”

  Tipping his baseball cap away from his face, Ranger blew a breath of exasperation from his lips. He then said under his breath, loud enough so that the others in the truck could hear, “Amateurs.”

  Matty shook her head while Jon snickered. Randy thought, if the others wanted to be thorough, they should have asked everyone in the truck to throw out their weapons from the vehicle. In other words, Ranger was right. Amateurs.

  The truck slowly drove on to the platform. Ranger then shut the engine.

  “Toss the keys.” Mark said, pointing his gun at Ranger and Matty from outside the passenger side window.

  By this time, Ranger had had enough. His nose was flaring and he was grinding his teeth. He tossed the keys anyway.

  “Weapons.” Sunglow said to Mark.

  “Right. Your weapons. Throw them out of the truck.”

  As seconds passed, a scowl grew deeper on Matty’s face. “I’m not throwing out my gun.”

  Mark, Sunglow and Silver raised their weapons at the truck.

  Matty shook in her seat, “Fine!
Have my stupid, damn gun.”

  Matty eased her hand behind her back, pulled her gun with the tips of her fingers and dropped the weapon on the ground outside the truck. Randy followed Matty’s lead while Silver retrieved Ranger’s shotgun from his hand. Jon had a knife, and he did the same as Matty. Outside his window the knife went.

  “Good.” Mark said, and backed away from the vehicle. His friends did the same. “Now, step out, keeping your hands where we can see them.”

  Ranger and the kids opened their doors and stepped outside, as instructed. Mark and his friends didn’t realize how tall Ranger stood. He towered over them almost making him seem like a giant.

  “Move to the side.” Mark said as he and his friends pointed their guns at the four strangers.

  Ranger and his friends didn’t complain. They moved to the left side of the truck as requested. When Randy finally turned around to reveal his face, Mark squinted, studying the boy. The dirt on Randy’s face couldn’t hide his identity. Mark’s gun fell to his side. He said, “I can’t believe it.”

  “What are you doing?” Silver and Sunglow said in unison, thinking the same thing.

  “Put your guns down.” Mark patted his hand at an invisible wall.

  “I’m not putting my gun down until you tell me what’s going on.” Sunglow said, tightening her grip on her weapon.

  “Do you remember me?” Mark slipped his gun between his belly and his belt. He pointed at his chest while walking toward Randy and his friends. “It’s me, Mark.”

  With his hands still in the air, Randy shook his head.

  “He doesn’t remember a thing of the past. Other than a few events here and there, he’s a blank slate.” Matty said.

  “Put your guns down, I said.” Mark waved his hands at his friends.

  They lowered their weapons but they still held on to them not wanting to let them go.

  Taking Ranger’s lead, the kids put their hands down. Somehow, Mark saying he recognized Randy made things okay.