by Lundy, W. J.
The driver leaned back through the window. “You can go with us, but we have to get going now, it’s nearly dark and the bad ones come out at night.”
Brad looked to Sean. “What about the farm?” he asked in a low voice.
“We can figure it out later, I think we need to go with them for Hahn’s sake,” Sean said as he moved back towards Hahn.
Brad helped Sean lift Hahn and with the help of the boy-guard they lowered him into the bed of the truck before climbing in themselves. As soon as they were on board the truck’s gears grinded back into drive and the truck sped off. Brad was sitting towards the front of the truck with Hahn’s head in his lap. He looked at the rest of the bed. The truck was filled with cases of canned good. All of the boxes were identical, and appeared to have come from the same location by the way they were stacked.
The boy-guard in the back looked at Brad and frowned. “My name is Alex, sorry for not introducing myself.”
Brad looked to the boy-guard. “I guess proper manners haven’t been of much use lately, I’m Brad, and that old man there is Sean.”
“Your friend, he is hurt bad?” Alex asked.
Brad looked down at Hahn. “Yeah, he’s lost a lot of blood. Do you have a doctor?”
“We will have the means to help you, but I am not allowed to talk about our home to outsiders,” Alex said.
Sean took his eyes off of the surroundings and looked to Alex. “Where exactly are we going?”
“Don’t worry, it’s a safe place,” Alex said. “Far safer than being out here after dark.”
Brad looked at him. “The dark, that’s when the fast ones come?”
“Oh, they are more than fast, they are smart, they can open doors, they organize, my German grandfather calls them the Buhmann. I guess we all kinda do now.“
“Bogeyman?” Sean asked.
“Aye, same thing I guess,” Alex said.
The truck’s horn honked and Alex turned and stood back up, looking over the cab. Brad turned to see the road partially filled with slow-moving primals. The driver slowed and skirted the right side of the road, then accelerated, moving to the left and around the crowd of them. As they passed Brad looked back at them. They were the slow-moving ones with the frostbitten faces and grayed skin.
Alex watched Brad looking at them. “Creepers … Those ones are nothing to be worried about, they are slow and dumb. It’s the Buhmann that will get you,” he said seriously.
The sides of the road once again became wooded as the truck climbed to higher terrain. The vehicle made a turn off onto a side road that led them to higher ground before it again slowed and came to a stop. The passenger door opened as Alex jumped from the bed. He and the other man quickly moved to the side of the road and pulled a long downed pine out of the way, revealing a broken concrete road.
The truck pulled through and they quickly put the brush back into place, concealing the entrance. Now the road was rougher and the men found themselves being bounced around as they traveled up the pothole-filled road. The truck wound around and finally ended at a large chain link fence. The truck stopped short of a chained gate. The driver put the truck into neutral and applied the parking brake, then exited the cab. He walked around to the bed and looked at Brad and Sean.
“You need to get out here … stay over there, and don’t make any noise. I have to make sure it’s okay to let you in,” the boy said, pointing toward an old stone foundation.
Alex looked to Sean and Brad. “We are good people, they’ll let you in,” he said, smiling.
Sean stood and went to Brad’s side to help lift Hahn from the bed of the truck.
“It’s okay, your man can stay, we wouldn’t turn away an unarmed and injured man,” the driver said.
Brad looked to Sean uneasily. He didn’t want to lose sight of Hahn, especially when he still didn’t know what was inside.
Alex again spoke reassuringly. “I will take care of him, just wait here, we will be back for you.”
Sean looked to Brad and put a hand on his shoulder. “We have to trust them, right now we don’t have many other options.”
Brad nodded his head. He removed his pack and tossed it from the bed of the truck, then jumped out after it. He turned back towards the truck. “Look after him, Alex,” he said. The boy nodded.
Sean followed Brad from the truck as the driver got back in and shut the door behind him. “We will be back for you once we drop off the truck, just remember be quiet, don’t call out. We will find you.”
The young man from the passenger seat had unlocked and swung the gate open, and Brad and Sean watched the truck pull through. He relocked the gate, entered the truck and they drove away.
20.
Brad carried his pack towards the old stone foundation. He dropped the bag in a corner then sat on the pack leaning back, looking towards the gate. Sean had followed him into the rubble and dropped his pack at the opposite end, settling so that his back rested and was concealed by the rubble wall behind him. It was a habit for the man to always rest where he had rear cover. It would be embarrassing for the old sniper to be shot in the back while lounging around. Sean pulled his boonie cap over his eyes and laid his head back as if he were about to take a nap.
Brad looked at Sean, annoyed. “Do you have any idea what just happened?”
“My best guess is those boys are now talking to their leader who is trying to decide if they should let us in or kill us.”
“Damn Sean! Why so positive? Maybe we should walk the fence line and see if we can see something?”
Sean let out a sigh. “Probably not a good idea with them watching us.”
“They’re watching us?” Brad sat up and started scanning the area beyond the fence.
“Shit, will you calm the fuck down and relax.”
“How do you know they are watching us?” Brad asked anxiously.
“Brad, relax bro, what would you do in their shoes? Would you guard the way in and out of your camp?”
Brad leaned back against his pack, clearly agitated. He looked around, suddenly feeling uneasy in their situation. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
“Good cause, they are, I saw the flash off of his scope at least twice. Once when we pulled up and just after you sat down. But no worries, I know where he is, and he doesn’t know that.”
“For real? So they are up there right now watching us?”
Sean raised his arms and stretched before crossing his legs and arms as if tucking himself in. “Brad, just get cozy, and don’t look threatening, I’m sure that’s all they want to see.”
“So you’re just going to sleep?”
“Oh no, I’ve been watching him this entire time. He just moved down closer to us, don’t look but he is just inside the fence now. He looks to be a bit older, and heavier,” Sean said in a casual voice.
Brad tried to resist the urge to look. He pulled his pack in front of him and rummaged through it, finding a bottle of water. He drank slowly, trying to occupy his time, then opened a can of peas and ate quietly, trying to enjoy the bland flavors. The longer he sat he began to identify more things in the surroundings. The old foundation they were sitting in was resting in front of an old, mostly snow-covered asphalt parking lot.
Brad could see remnants of old light poles mixed in with the brush and woods surrounding them. As he scanned he could see that the fence looked old, but probably not as old as the structures. Maybe erected later to keep out vandals or trespassers. It wasn’t a sturdy fence, standing maybe eight foot with a single strand of wire along the top. The gate was rusty and matched the fence, but the chain holding it closed looked new, as did the lock.
Brad pulled himself to his feet and strolled to a spot just behind them. He relieved himself on a bush as he looked out, deeper into the forest. His eyes followed the drive down the hill and to the covered brush where they’d left the road. He couldn’t see the road from his current position; the overbrush was thick and concealed it very well. He searched the ground l
ooking for tracks, but instead found something else. Strung between the trees all over the property were tightly strung wires, just about waist high. Possibly set as early warning, or to trip up the slow-moving primals.
Brad moved to his left to try and get a better look at the wires when he heard the low hum of an engine. He looked over his shoulder beyond the gate and spotted a vehicle approaching.
“Someone is coming,” he whispered to Sean as he turned to face the gate. An old Volkswagen van was slowly winding down the broken concrete road. Instead of pulling through the gate, the van stopped short of it, then reversed and turned around. The engine was shut off and the boy who had driven the truck earlier exited the driver’s side. A side door opened and two older men climbed out from the passenger compartment.
Brad watched the party as they cleared the van and walked to the gate. Instead of opening the gate, the men stood in front of the chain link fence. The boy still appeared to be unarmed, but one of the two men was carrying a shotgun. The boy raised his hand to Brad and waved for him to come forward. Brad heard Sean get to his feet behind him. He lifted his pack and stood next to Brad.
“Keep your rifle slung, let me do the talking,” Sean whispered.
“The man on the right has a shotgun,” Brad said.
“Yeah, not just any shotgun, looks like the same one Alex was carrying. These fellas must be short of weapons,” Sean said as he moved towards the fence. “Follow me.”
“Lead the way,” Brad answered.
Sean moved out ahead, walking slowly and carrying his pack in his left hand, his rifle slung over his right shoulder with the barrel down. Brad noticed that Sean’s coat was closed tight and pulled low, the waist of the jacket concealing the .45 pistol that was always strapped to his hip. Brad put on his heavy rucksack and let his M4 hang from the sling as he followed Sean up the road.
Brad stayed just behind Sean and staggered to the left. He could see the men at the gate clearly now. The boy driver stood to the left, apparently unarmed. There was an older red-bearded man in the center, with another overweight and heavily bearded man standing next to him. The men were dressed in canvas overalls and high rubber boots; their coats were of the same canvas type material. To Brad the men appeared soft, not like hardened criminals or killers, but appearance could be deceiving. The overweight man held the shotgun nervously, unlike the way Alex had carried the gun in a relaxed posture. This man held it with the barrel pointed down at an angle with his finger on the trigger.
When Sean was a good eight paces from the fence the man in the middle held up his hand. “That be close enough, friend,” he said.
Sean stopped and casually set his pack on the ground, then looked up to face the men. “Good afternoon sir, my name is Chief Petty Officer Sean Rogers. This is my partner, Staff Sergeant Brad Thompson.”
The man looked to Sean with a puzzled expression. “American military men, are ya? What are you doing out here in my woods?”
Sean smiled. “Well, it’s a long story, but we are awaiting transportation. I can assure you we want nothing from you or your camp, we have our own supplies.”
“Do ya now?” the red-bearded man said as he scratched at his beard.
The boy turned to face the red-bearded man. “Come on David, give them a break. If they wanted something from us they could have easily ambushed the truck and taken our supplies.”
“Luke, that be enough!” shouted the fat man with the shotgun.
“Whoa, whoa, hold up all of ya. I’m just trying to read the situation here,” the bearded man shouted.
Sean smiled and put his hands in front of him, showing his palms. “Okay, I think we can all calm down just a bit. All we are looking for is some shelter for the night, and a safe place to dress our man’s wounds. We will be out of your hair first thing in the morning.”
The man with the beard nodded his head. “I feel we had a bad start here, I must apologize. We don’t get many visitors. My name is David, this is Luke my nephew, my bodyguard here is Francis. You can call him Frank if you like but it seems to piss him off,” he said, smiling.
Sean returned the smile and let his arms relax. “Pleased to meet you, now what would it take to convince you to let us stay?”
David pulled at his beard as if in deep thought. “Luke tells me you refuse to give up your weapons?”
“Out there on the road yes, for all of our protection I choose to be armed. I wouldn’t be opposed to putting my rifle under lock and key if you have a safe place for it, but I must insist on keeping my sidearm,” Sean said.
David continued to stroke his beard before nodding, “Okay that sounds reasonable. You have given me no reason not to trust you. Luke, open the gate.”
Luke smiled and stepped forward and unlocked the gate. He swung it open just enough for Brad and Sean to squeeze though, then locked it behind them. Once inside, Francis opened the hatch on the back of the van and asked the men to place their bags and rifles in the cargo compartment. Sean sat his ruck in the back and laid his rifle on the floor behind it. Brad looked to Sean apprehensively. Sean made eye contact and nodded so Brad took his ruck from his back and also placed it in the back before laying his M4 next to Sean’s.
Francis closed the hatch and moved to the side of the van and opened the passenger door. “Sorry, we need to hurry, we usually don’t spend this much time down here this late in the day,” he said, rushing them to enter the van. Brad moved to the side door and followed David in, Sean got in behind him, and Francis closed the door behind them.
Luke and Francis jumped into the front, slamming the doors behind them. The van started and began moving up the road. The passenger compartment held two bench seats sitting parallel to the cabin walls. Brad had taken a seat across from the door with Sean next to him. David was sitting near the back and directly on the floor of the van. There was carpet on the floor and ceilings, and a set of purple curtains divided the passenger compartment from the front seats. More curtains covered the windows, preventing Brad from seeing where they were headed.
“Nice custom job, is it yours?” Brad asked, smiling at David.
David let out an audible chuckle, “No, no, no, oh boy, no, we found it up on the highway a few weeks ago. We needed something with cargo space.”
The van drove up a steep slope and around a bend before stopping. Francis opened his door and stepped out. Brad heard the rumble of what he assumed was a large overhead door being opened. They heard a slap on the side of the van as Luke pulled the vehicle into a dark space and killed the engine. Brad heard the overhead door rumble closed and after a brief pause the side door on the van again opened. Francis indicated for the men to exit, and Sean stepped out with Brad right behind him. They were in a large empty building. The worn brick walls were at least fifteen foot tall, with a row of old windows lining the top. Some of the windows were broken; others were still intact and closed.
Brad moved away from the van curiously looking in all directions. The floor was made of broken concrete. He saw that the truck they had ridden in earlier was parked on the other side of the van. In one corner was a pile of old cardboard boxes and a few broken pallets. There was random furniture and machine parts scattered about the space. Brad moved towards a wall that held a picture frame. The glass was broken and the paper inside was stained and unreadable.
“Where are we, David?” Brad asked.
Francis had moved to the back and opened the hatch on the van. Luke had already picked up Brad’s bag and hoisted it to his own back with a grunt. Francis grabbed Sean’s rucksack then handed Sean his rifle before handing Brad his own.
“This is the old machine works factory. It has been closed for close to thirty years. Come on, this way please,” David said as he began walking to the far end of the room.
Luke and Francis hurried along after David. Sean looked at Brad before shrugging his shoulders and following the men across the old factory floor. At the end of the room was an old steel door. David rapped on it three times. Th
ey stood and waited as the door clunked then opened inward. David moved inside with the others following him, then the door closed behind them.
Brad immediately felt the warmth in the room; a glowing wood stove explained why. They had entered a small office of sorts. The room’s floor was made of well-worn hardwood, the walls were a rustic brick and void of any windows, and another steel door was on the opposite wall. Two large wall safes were on each side of the door with a large manager’s desk sitting to the right of the door they’d just entered. Brad saw right away that an old .38 revolver was lying near center on the desktop. He turned to look behind him and saw that Alex was the one who had closed the door.
Alex extended his hand and shook Brad’s hand. “Good to see ya again, Brad.”
“You too friend. Where’s my man, Sergeant Hahn?” Brad asked.
“Oh, we mucked him off to the doc,” Alex answered.
“You have a doctor?” Sean asked, pleasantly surprised.
David stepped back between the men. “We have many things. Would you feel comfortable storing your weapons here?” He pointed at the safe to the left of the door, a tall blue box with a chain wrapped around it and under the handle, and a large padlock like the one on the front gate which held the chain in place.
Brad started to speak as Sean cut him off. “This room is always under guard?” Sean asked.
“Yes, the safe mechanism no longer works but I alone hold the key to that chain,” David answered.
“Very well then,” Sean said as he approached the safe. He took the rifle from his shoulder and removed the bolt from the rifle and dropped it into a pocket on his jacket. He did the same with his MP5 and Hahn’s M4. Brad followed with what he was doing and dropped the magazine on his M4, then pushed the pin separating the receivers of his own rifle and removed the bolt. He quickly unloaded the shotgun, then placed the M4 bolt and twelve gauge shells into his cargo pocket.