Dark Crossing

by Thomas A. Watson

“I really don’t like rolling this shit up by hand,” Ian admitted.

  Climbing in the buggy, “Why the hell do you think I asked if this thing could pull a trailer?” Lance confessed as Ian closed the doors to the building and relocked them.

  Everyone loaded up and Lilly started driving out of the parking lot when Lance told her to stop. When she stopped, Lance climbed out and moved over to a stinker in full battle gear. Watching Lance strip the corpse, “Told you he would,” Lilly said with a grunt, climbing out.

  “Shit,” Jennifer grumbled, getting out. “Ian, there are four more. Strip them and we’ll cover.”

  Two of the stinkers had rucksacks and Lance strapped them to the roof, the rest of the gear they tossed in the back. “Lance, we aren’t putting any more shit in the buggy,” Ian told him with a snarl. “You put anything else in here, and I’m slashing the Hummer’s tires.”

  Stumbling back, “Dude, that’s not even funny!” Lance snapped while Lilly and Jennifer shot stinkers coming at them.

  “You break my buggy, and I break your Hummer,” Ian vowed, crossing his arms.

  “Fine!” Lance shouted, climbing in the buggy.

  When Lilly turned to climb in the buggy, she grinned at the stripped-down stinkers. “Damn, they even emptied the pockets,” Lilly laughed, climbing in. Before Lilly took off, Ian and Jennifer called the dogs to jump in the backseat with them. When Lilly pulled out, she could definitely tell she was pulling a full trailer.

  Driving along the road, a real blacktop road, just felt wrong after so long weaving around trees. But after listening to Ian, nobody asked if they could get off the road. The one thing they did like about moving on the road, it only took them fifteen minutes to drive the eight miles back, instead of an hour.

  Driving up the long driveway to the house behind the ridge of the cabin, the buggy seemed slower and Ian made Lilly stop before he put the front and rear wheels in low. After that, the buggy acted like it wasn’t pulling anything.

  Pulling to a stop where they’d loaded the Battle Bot, Lilly climbed out as Lance walked around and started unhooking the trailer. “Let’s unload the buggy,” Ian said, grabbing the stuff they’d taken off the soldiers.

  “Why? We are just going a mile,” Jennifer asked, but started unloading the back. Ian just looked at her for a second, then continued unloading. “Ian, you have a mask on, I can’t read your face.”

  “Trust me, we want it unloaded,” Ian replied, moving to the front and grabbing the pressure washer.

  After the buggy was unloaded, everyone climbed back in and Lilly drove into the woods, feeling much better. “You could’ve driven back down to the road and looped around the ridge,” Lance said, scanning around.

  “Driving on the road makes me feel naked,” Lilly admitted.

  Giving a curt laugh, “Lilly, you have on enough gear for two people,” Lance said.

  “You know what I mean,” Lilly laughed. “But I’m going to agree about how much gear we wear.”

  Driving over the ridge and down the slope, Lilly could see the road snaking through the valley below. Just to the northwest tucked back off the road, she saw the trailer the bear trap people had been ransacking when she’d seen them.

  Pulling across the road, Lilly gave a startle when Ian and Jennifer shot stinkers on both sides of the buggy. Passing the trailer, Lilly moved up the slope. “Slower,” Lance said, then looked back. “Let Dino out,” he told Jennifer.

  Jennifer motioned for Dino to get out and Dino moved to the front of the buggy. When Dino started up the hill, Lilly looked over at Lance. “When was the last time you and Ian were here?”

  “Two weeks ago,” Lance answered, looking around.

  When they reached the ridge, “Stop here,” Lance whispered, getting out and turning on the thermal scope before clipping it on his AR. “You and Jennifer wait here. If stinkers come, use your bows. If the guard is out, he will hear a suppressed shot this close.”

  Jennifer nodded, grabbing her bow and climbing out. As Lilly climbed out, Lance reached back inside, grabbing a large manila envelope. “Damn, you send letters,” Lilly mumbled.

  Moving around the buggy, Ian followed when Lance took the lead easing down the slope. Flipping up his NVGs, Lance glanced down the hill with his AR, but didn’t see any hotspots and continued down. Halfway, they found barbed wire strung through the trees, but it was only one strand.

  Ducking under it, they moved to the bottom of the slope and found the guard area. It was now camouflaged much better and held two chairs. Placing the envelope in one of the chairs, Lance and Ian headed back up the slope.

  Lilly and Jennifer gave a sigh of relief, seeing them come back up and climbed in the buggy. After they’d climbed in, Lance turned to everyone. “Let’s go get another trailerful,” he said enthusiastically.

  Looking out her side as Lilly backed up, “Now, I see why you wanted the buggy empty,” Jennifer chuckled.

  Chapter 5

  East of Powell, Missouri

  Pulling back the compound bow, Sandy slowly exhaled while concentrating on the stinker’s nose. When her aim centered, Sandy released the arrow and watched the arrow sail through the air. Forty yards away, the arrow hit just below the stinker’s nose, jerking its head back.

  Sandy grinned as the stinker collapsed in a heap. “I like shooting them further away,” she confessed, leaning over and patting Dan.

  With Dan beside her, Sandy walked up the peninsula they were camped on and stood over the stinker. Not even seeing that at one time the stinker had been a young girl, Sandy put her foot on the forehead and pulled her arrow out.

  Glancing around and not seeing anything, Sandy put her arrow back in the quiver clipped to her waist and grabbed the stinker by the arm, pulling the body to the small river they were camped by. Using her foot, Sandy rolled the body down the bank and into the water.

  The body rolled in the water and bobbed to the surface as it slowly floated downstream. Spinning around, Sandy walked back to the spot where she’d shot the stinker and took one big step. Dragging her foot to make a mark in the sand, Sandy looked down at Dan. “Let’s try forty-one yards,” she said, and Dan bounced around in excitement.

  Holding up the compound bow, “You make more noise than the recurve, but I love your range,” Sandy cheerfully told her bow. As she walked past a continuous row of marks she had made in the sand in one-yard increments, Sandy saw Johnathan sitting up and watching her.

  “How far out was that one?” Johnathan asked with a yawn.

  “Forty yards,” Sandy beamed. “Thank you for adjusting your bow for me.”

  Getting to his feet chuckling, “Sorry, sweetheart, but thirty-yard kill shots were the limit for your recurve bow,” Johnathan said.

  “I don’t remember my compound bow being this easy to pull back,” Sandy said, turning around and watching the narrow path to the peninsula.

  “Babe, you’ve been pulling back a fifty-pound recurve bow for months. A sixty-five-pound compound should feel like a feather,” Johnathan boasted.

  “Why haven’t you been using it?” Sandy asked over her shoulder.

  “I can load my recurve faster and it’s quieter,” Johnathan answered, rolling his sleeping bag up. “The recurve, I can get off ten aimed shots in a minute. With the compound, the best I’ve done was six.”

  Hearing Dan growl, Sandy scanned the trees and saw a shape moving between the tree trunks. Pulling an arrow out, Sandy waited patiently. When the stinker walked past the peninsula never looking at them, Sandy stomped her foot with a scowl.

  “Chicken shit,” Sandy snapped, and the stinker stopped and slowly turned around. When it saw Sandy, it raised its arms and stumbled toward her, moaning.

  “Oh, good!” Sandy grinned, pulling back the bow. Resting her forty-yard pin between the stinker’s eyes, Sandy slowed her breathing and waited. When the stinker’s foot hit her new mark, Sandy released the arrow. While she watched the arrow sail the forty-one yards, Sandy reached for another
one.

  The arrow sunk in the stinker’s right cheek just below the eye and it crashed down on Sandy’s new mark. Almost skipping, Sandy walked up the peninsula and yanked her arrow out. Seeing how big this stinker was, Sandy glanced around and then laid her bow down.

  As she pulled the stinker to the bank, Dan bit down on the stinker’s shoulder to help her pull. Stopping at the bank, Sandy saw Dan still clamped down on the stinker’s shoulder. “Dan, heel up,” she commanded, and Dan let go and moved to her side. Bending down, Sandy loved on Dan as he panted with his tongue hanging out.

  “I wish you could retrieve arrows,” Sandy chuckled, scratching behind his ears.

  Getting up, Sandy grunted as she used her foot to roll the body down the bank. As the body floated away, Sandy walked back over and picked up her bow. Standing at her mark, Sandy took one step and made a new mark in the sand.

  Walking back, she saw Johnathan chuckling softly while he packed his gear up. “What?” Sandy asked, stopping at her shooting spot and turning around to face the woods.

  “You say Lance gets the type A personality from me, but he gets that from you,” Johnathan told her, saddling his horse. “How many have you got on your shift?”

  “Thirty-six,” Sandy answered, and Johnathan left his saddle on the horse and walked over, stopping beside Sandy.

  “You shot thirty-six and didn’t wake anyone up?” Johnathan asked with a frown.

  Shrugging her right shoulder, “I only had one group, and it was only eight,” Sandy admitted never taking her eyes from the trees.

  Looking at the side of Sandy’s face, Johnathan saw intensity when she scanned the trees. “Sandy, I got eight, and Mary got eleven on her shift,” Johnathan reminded her.

  A smile sprang to Sandy’s face when her eyes locked on movement. Johnathan turned to see two stinkers walking through the trees. When they passed the end of the peninsula well over a hundred yards away, never turning to look, he sighed.

  “Pussies,” Sandy snapped rather loudly, and Johnathan jumped when both stinkers turned around and started back, raising their arms. “Oh, goodie,” Sandy smiled, raising her bow.

  When the first stinker’s foot hit the new mark, Sandy released the arrow and Johnathan watched the arrow hit the left eye, dropping the stinker. Never taking her eyes off the other stinker, Sandy grabbed another arrow and nocked it before raising her bow.

  Sandy released the arrow when the stinker reached his friend. The arrow hit between the eyes and the stinker fell back like a rag doll. Pulling another arrow, Sandy walked happily down the peninsula with Dan.

  Shaking his head, “She’s verbally baiting stinkers, so they don’t get away and she can have target practice,” Johnathan mumbled. “There is no denying she is Lance’s mother.”

  After retrieving her arrows, Sandy pulled the bodies to the bank with Dan helping. Sandy moved back to where she’d killed them, took one step, and made a new mark. Johnathan grinned when Sandy walked back. “How many have you lured onto your shooting range?” he asked.

  Stopping beside Johnathan, Sandy turned back to the trees. “Most of them,” Sandy confessed. “They just wanted to walk past.”

  Leaning over and kissing Sandy’s cheek, “Don’t bite off more than you can chew,” Johnathan warned her, and then left to finish saddling his horse. “Start the route,” he said, buckling his saddle on.

  With a sigh, Sandy started reciting while Johnathan saddled her horse. Hearing Sandy raising her voice slightly, Johnathan looked over the horse to see a stinker turning around and coming back to the peninsula after Sandy had baited him. Johnathan didn’t even watch as Sandy released the arrow when the stinker reached the new mark.

  Pulling another arrow out, Sandy didn’t leave to retrieve her arrow while she continued reciting the route, killing three more stinkers. Johnathan was proud of her for not shouting at the last one because it seemed the stinker didn’t want to walk out on the peninsula. When she finished reciting, Sandy left to get her arrows and move the bodies.

  Starting some coffee and food, Johnathan woke Mary up. When Mary stood up, Ann jumped up, and Johnathan looked up the peninsula to see Sandy at full draw. Before he could search for her target, Sandy released and Johnathan followed the arrow.

  Seeing three stinkers deep in the trees, Johnathan watched the first one drop and when he turned back to Sandy, she was releasing another arrow. Not following the arrow, Johnathan watched Sandy never take her eyes off the last stinker, pulling an arrow out of her quiver and nocking it really fast.

  Pulling the bow back and resting the pin on the stinker’s nose, Sandy released and Johnathan followed the arrow dropping the last one. “Girl is getting good,” Mary giggled beside him.

  “Yeah, if they try to walk past, Sandy calls them names and they come back, so she can shoot them,” Johnathan told her.

  “I should’ve thought of that,” Mary groaned, watching Sandy yank her arrows out and leaving the bodies in the trees. Moving back to the five bodies on the peninsula, Sandy pulled them to the bank and kicked them in.

  Not able to help it, Johnathan started laughing when Sandy walked over, stopping at the last mark and took one step. Dragging her boot through the sand, Sandy made a new mark and headed back. “Mary, ready to recite?” Johnathan asked, grabbing the coffee mugs.

  Walking over to her spot, Mary started reciting while she put her gear on. Sandy had another three down when Mary had finished. “How far out can that compound bow kill stinkers?” Mary asked.

  “Glad you used ‘kill’ and not ‘hit’,” Johnathan said, handing her a bowl of food. “I think it should have enough power to punch through a skull at fifty, but I wouldn’t go any further.”

  Taking a bite, “You tell that to Sandy?” Mary asked.

  “Yeah, that’s what the marks are for. That’s why she hasn’t made any new marks, she’s at the fifty yards,” Johnathan said. “Notice how the arrows don’t sink but a few inches in the skull? I think any further is wasting effort.”

  Looking up at Johnathan, “Can you make Bill’s compound bow, so I can pull it back?” Mary asked.

  “Sure,” Johnathan nodded. “See if you can pull Sandy’s back and if you can, I’ll drop Bill’s to sixty-five pounds.”

  After finishing her food, Mary left and headed to Sandy. Johnathan wasn’t shocked when Mary easily pulled the bow back. Walking over to the pack horses, he pulled out Bill’s compound bow and grabbed the small tool kit.

  Pulling the bow back several times after he’d finished, Johnathan carried the bow over to Mary who was talking quietly to Sandy. “Here you go,” Johnathan said, handing her the bow.

  Mary smiled, taking the bow, “Thank you,” she said, pulling an arrow from the quiver hanging off her tool belt. Johnathan turned and chuckled to see dead stinkers propped up against a pile of drift wood.

  It took Mary a few shots and Johnathan showed her how to adjust the three different sighting pins. After six shots, Mary was hitting the corpses in the faces at twenty yards. “Sandy, eat and I’ll finish packing up,” Johnathan told her, grabbing her hand.

  “You were right, fifty is the limit,” Sandy acknowledged, hugging his arm while holding the bow in her right hand. When the bow hit the AR hanging off her back, Sandy adjusted the AR. “I’m happy with that.”

  “Any further than that, you need to be on a gun,” Johnathan told her, letting her hand go and handing her a bowl of food.

  When the sun reached the horizon, everyone loaded up. “How far out did you get?” Sandy asked Mary.

  “Forty-two yards,” Mary answered, guiding her horse into the river. Walking across, Mary was glad the horses didn’t have to swim. She didn’t like hanging onto the saddle when the horse swam.

  Coming out the other side, Mary guided her horse off the bank and slowed until Johnathan and Sandy were across. Blinking a tear from her eye, Mary sighed at seeing Johnathan on Bill’s horse.

  Stopping that train of thought, Mary spun around to look ahead and ga
ve her horse a soft kick, guiding it through the trees. Turning her cap around and taking off her sunglasses, Mary was again impressed with the human body.

  The only time they’d had trouble seeing at night was with dark, cloudy skies. Even then, they could see well enough to move, but could run into stinkers fast. On cloudy nights, Bill had said they traveled by nose, because they could usually smell the stinkers before seeing them.

  With only a few small clouds in the sky tonight, Mary could see pretty far, even in the woods she was guiding the horses through. Remembering in Utah when Bill had pressed the light for his watch, he had lost his night vision for three hours. Mary had to guide his horse after just that little bit of light.

  Jerking her horse to stop, Mary gripped her AR when hearing an engine to the south. “That’s close,” Johnathan whispered, moving up beside her.

  “I don’t think it’s on the dirt road we pulled off of last night,” Mary concluded, looking down at Ann who was looking around and panting.

  “Mary, that road is only a hundred yards away,” Johnathan told her. “That noise sounds about a mile away, so I’m thinking it’s on Hwy 86.”

  “It’s loud,” Sandy said, moving up beside them.

  Nodding, “It’s a semi-truck,” Johnathan declared.

  “Okay, why drive something like that?” Sandy asked, looking around.

  “Sandy, it’s big and heavy, so it can push through stuff and better yet, fill it up and you can go a thousand miles,” Johnathan told her as the noise faded to the southeast.

  Giving a sigh, “If we only had to worry about stinkers, I would risk taking one of those,” Sandy mumbled.

  “Sandy, if we only had to worry about stinkers, we would’ve gotten one in California,” Johnathan told her.

  “Think they are trouble?” Mary asked.

  “Don’t know and don’t care because we will avoid them. We hear people, we leave,” Johnathan insisted. “Head toward the road since we are heading more northeast. We shouldn’t have a problem making distance on these back roads.”

  Kicking her horse, Mary guided the horse through the trees and soon saw the dirt road glaring ahead in the starlight. Holding her AR with one hand, Mary climbed off and grabbed the bolt cutters. Cutting the three strands of barbed wire, Mary climbed back up on her horse. “I’m tired of barbed wire,” she mumbled, shoving the bolt cutters back in her saddle.