by Brant, Jason
How could this be possible? Could it really be as simple as this? Using his position of power to limit what, or who, came in and out of town allowed him to live here without concern about being discovered. Jailing anyone who suspected him seemed far too easy, yet there he stood.
“How did I get here?”
“Luck, actually. A man was following the railroad tracks when he spotted someone stumbling through the desert like a drunken fool. They came to me, and I have to admit, I was surprised to see you still alive. It never even occurred to me that you could have made it this far.”
Evans was all over the place. One minute he wanted to spew out everything he knew, and the next he didn’t want to talk at all. Now he spilled his guts like a drunk sitting on a bar stool. Karen knew that his instability was part of what made him so dangerous. Unpredictability was a quality that few people possessed.
“Where’s Stephen?”
“Now, now – don’t you want to know how I got to Sheol before you did?”
“Not particularly.”
“What fun is that?” Evans said, mocking her by rolling his eyes.
“Let me guess... you took a horse from one of the men that blew up the dam,” Karen said.
His face dropped again and he gaped at her. “How do you kn—”
“Where is the boy?” she asked again. Stephen, and the memory of McCall’s last words, were all that kept Karen going. She’d be damned if she would let anything happen to him.
“He’s safe, for now.”
“If you so much as look in his direction, I’ll—”
“Nothing will happen to him so long as you keep your diseased mouth shut from now until your neck is stretched,” Evans said, cutting her off. “If you mention anything to anyone, I’ll make sure he dies real slow.”
Karen glared at him and knew that he was telling the truth. The memory of the conductor’s head stuck on a lever in the train like it was a pig pole told her all she needed to know about his capacity for savagery. She doubted that the boy’s age would even give him pause.
“OK. I won’t say anything and you won’t touch him, deal?”
He gave her a curt nod, but said nothing. Karen knew that any time you made a deal with the devil, you were bound to be betrayed. She didn’t know how yet, but she would get out of this and put the sick son of a bitch out of everyone’s misery once and for all.
“What am I being charged with?”
“Murder, kidnapping, and whatever else I decide.”
“What? How?” Karen figured he would have trumped up some charges against her, but she didn’t understand how he would be able to convince a judge that she had kidnapped Stephen.
“Well, as it turns out, the boy’s father is here in Sheol,” Evans said, beaming at her. “He was a little upset when he found out that a woman covered in blood showed up with his son.”
“Is he still alive?” Karen asked.
“What happened to McCall?” Evans asked, ignoring her.
Karen dropped her gaze to the floor. She tried to answer him twice but her throat caught both times and she had to swallow the lump that formed there. A lone tear fell down her right cheek as she raised her head and looked at Evans again.
“Was it them? Those things? Did they get him?” Evans took a step closer, his eyes opening wide as he excitedly asked more questions. “Was it slow? Did he scream?”
“You bastard,” Karen said, sputtering, as the words finally came out. “I’ll fucking kill you before the day is over.”
“Perfect,” Evans mumbled under his breath. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nostrils. “I can almost hear him.”
Shouting from outside interrupted the disturbing moment. Evans looked furious as he took a step away from the bars. One of the voices outside rose above the others, shouting angrily at whoever he spoke to.
Evans’ expression perked up when he seemingly recognized the voice. “Oh, yes. We’re in for a real treat now.” He rubbed his hands together like he was about to sit down for a good meal.
The door to the jail flew open and a man in his mid-thirties stalked through it, straight toward Karen.
“James, stop! You can’t just go in there!”
The large deputy came in behind him and tried to catch up. “Let the sheriff deal with her!”
“Shut up!” The man, James, stopped right in front of the bars and pointed at Karen. “My wife and oldest son are missing! The train never came yesterday, and then this bitch shows up covered in blood and dragging my boy through the desert!”
Evans silently walked to the far right wall and leaned against it, clearly enjoying the agony the father was in. He breathed in through his nose again, almost as if he could smell the fear and anger in the room.
“Where are they?” The man screamed at Karen. A vein pulsated on his forehead and his skin flushed as he went on. “Where is my family? What did you do to them?”
Karen looked over at Evans, remembering his warnings about her speaking to the locals. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod and she turned back to the grieving father. She tried to figure out a way to tell him that the rest of his family was gone, but she didn’t get the chance.
The man threw a rock through the bars and it smashed against her forehead, near her hairline. Her vision went black instantly and she felt dizzy, as if she’d been spinning in circles. She could hear faint shouting, but it seemed to come from too far away for her to understand what was said.
Her eyesight returned slowly and what little she could see had a red tinge. She rubbed at her eyes with the palm of her hands, pressing firmly against them. When she pulled her hands away she could see things with more clarity, but she noticed that her palms had fresh blood all over them.
She could taste copper on her tongue and spit it out, spraying the floor with pink spittle. Ignoring the pounding in her head, Karen looked up, trying to see what was going on outside her cell. More blood ran in her eyes and she wiped at it with her left forearm.
Evans shooed the father and large deputy out of the jail and closed the door once again. He turned back to her with unrestrained glee. She knew he was sick, but his reaction to other people’s suffering was far beyond what she could have imagined.
“That was quite enjoyable,” Evans said with a giggle.
The sound of the maniac giggling brought out Karen’s hatred. She stood from the cot on rubbery legs and pressed against the bars, glaring through them at Evans.
“You think you’ve got everything figured out.” Karen had to stop and wipe more blood from her forehead before continuing. “Well I’m telling you right now – you’re a dead man. If I have to come back from the fucking grave to get you, I will. There is nothing you can do to keep me from carving you up like a chicken.”
The threat only made Evans laugh even more. “The only way you’ll be doing anything with me is if I decide to toy with your dead body while it’s swinging in the wind.”
Karen stretched her right arm through the bars and tried to grab his shirt. Her fingers brushed against the fabric, but failed to get a hold of anything. She pulled her arm back and settled with staring him down.
“You know what’s coming across the desert – why haven’t you warned these people?”
“Why would I do that? I have a first row seat to watch the end of the world. Why would I spoil that?”
“But if Sheol falls, what else is left? What will you do if your town is gone?”
Evans shrugged. “Who cares? I’m about to witness one of the greatest mass slaughters in history. I’ll deal with the after when it gets here.”
“You sick bastard,” Karen said, her mind reeling. Knowing that he would give up his secret life here just to watch a massacre made her shudder. How could she hope to prevail in the face of such evil? She knew that the man before her was far worse than the mindless creatures coming for them.
“Calm down, whore. We have an exciting day ahead of us and I don’t think I can wait any longer to get
you down to the judge.” He went back and opened the door again. “Gary, Mike, come on back in here.”
The two opposite sized men came in the jail and continued glowering at Karen like they’d never left. The smaller one glanced at Evans as he walked through the door. Karen thought she could see unease in his eyes, but she couldn’t be sure.
“Let’s get this piece of shit down to the judge and see what he thinks,” Evans said. “Gary, open the door and let Mike in there. She’s a feisty little heathen so make sure you get a good grip on her.”
The smaller of the deputies stepped forward with a key and unlocked the door. Karen figured he was Gary, which would make the large man Mike. She committed it to memory, just in case she got a chance to bend one of their ears.
“Remember our deal,” Evans said, as if he’d read her mind.
The giant came into her cell and grabbed her with a vice-like grip around the upper arm, digging his meaty fingers into her bicep.
“I’ll break it off if you try anything stupid,” Mike said.
Karen let him lead her out of the jail without a struggle, biding her time.
Chapter 3
The moon floated in the sky above McCall.
Images of the massive army coming behind him consumed his thoughts. He tried to think of schemes that could stop them from wiping out everything from here to the Pacific, but he couldn’t come up with any. How could you defeat an enemy whose ranks were restored by every death they dealt? It seemed an impossible task.
He’d found the horse that Karen and Stephen had escaped on sometime around midnight. It had lasted longer than McCall expected, and it gave him hope that they might have made it to Sheol. Karen would have been slowed considerably when the horse went down, because she would have had to carry Stephen. Even still, he figured he must have been at least half a day behind them.
His legs felt tired, but they weren’t as fatigued as they’d been the day before, and he knew he could keep going at his current pace for several more hours. Drops of blood fell from his nose as it dried and cracked, adding the taste of copper to his parched mouth. He didn’t bother spitting it out. The shotgun he carried seemed to get heavier with every step, and he found himself shifting it from one hand to the next every couple of minutes.
When the night came to an end, and rays of light crept up on McCall’s back, he thought he could see footprints on the ground. The wind had covered them for the most part but it was yet another boost of hope that made him accelerate once again.
As the sun rose, so did the heat, and his optimism diminished quickly. If he didn’t find some kind of shelter by noon, he would die from exposure. Determination or not, no man could overcome Mother Nature.
Within an hour, he could see something in the seemingly never-ending expanse in front of him. More details popped out as miles went under foot, and his heart leapt when he realized it was a forest. It stretched as far as he could see in either direction, cresting over the horizon.
The ground softened under his boots as he walked on, and the cracks in the earth lessened and grew smaller. Distance could be hard to judge in the desert, and it took him much longer than he had initially estimated it would to get there. Most of the morning came and went before he finally reached the edge of the woods.
He followed a wagon trail that ran horizontal to the railroad tracks through the sparse tree line. His shoulders slumped when he finally passed into the shade and he breathed in the smell of moist earth and green foliage, relieved to be around living things again. Though finding a forest on the edge of the desert struck him as odd, he enjoyed having a bit of good luck for a change.
After walking a couple of hundred yards further, he stopped when he heard the sound of rushing water. He veered off the path to his right and found a small stream a couple of dozen feet from the trail. The water was only a couple of inches deep, a foot at the most, but it was clear and cool. He sipped from it for several minutes, letting his body relax as he rested on a rock beside the creek.
Sitting down had been a huge mistake – his feet ached and his back tightened the more he sat there – so he pushed himself up and went back to the trail. The water sloshed in his stomach as he walked further into the increasingly dense forest. Pangs of hunger came and went. The only food he’d had since he’d been arrested in Gehenna was a few pieces of over-salted jerky. He’d consider eating his boots soon.
The plant life grew greener and denser and he thought he could hear animals moving around. Branches cracked several times and McCall wondered if there might be deer running around. They sounded like men when they walked through the woods. He’d grown to be a proficient hunter during his time on the run, having to find food on his own while going from town to town. Though he’d kill for a piece of venison, he didn’t dare waste any time trying to track animals. He had to find Karen.
Another hour or two passed before he could see the path reach an open field. He walked through the edge of the forest and into a large expanse covered with knee-high grass. The wagon trail and railroad tracks stood out as they cut through the area, heading directly for a city that stood a half mile away on the other side of the field.
Sheol.
He’d made it. Though he was tired and suffered from a myriad of aches and pains, he felt hopeful and aware; ready to locate Karen and figure out their next move, together.
The city was large, at least the size of Gehenna. Houses and buildings stretched its length and he could see people milling about in the streets, specks of black moving in the distance. Small pillars of smoke drew into the sky from chimneys and open fires.
A wagon pulled by two horses came down the trail, heading for McCall. It was halfway across the field already and would reach him in a minute or two. He considered hiding behind a tree until it passed, afraid of showing his face, but decided against it. What would be the point? He would have to see people inside the city soon enough. He just hoped that no one would recognize him.
McCall was nearly a quarter of the way to the city when the wagon reached him. A small man sat on a bench in the front, reins held in his hands. He pulled on the leather straps when he drew even with McCall and brought the horses to a halt.
“You look like hell,” the man said.
“I imagine I do.” McCall wiped more sweat from his brow. “This is Sheol, right?”
“It is. Where are you coming from?” The man looked at Mad Dog with his eyebrows raised in curiosity, but didn’t seem to fear him.
“Gehenna.”
The man’s face lit up at the name and he turned his body toward McCall. “Maybe you can answer a few questions then. We’ve been waiting on a train to arrive for a couple of days now, but it never got here. We even sent one out lookin’ for it last night, but haven’t heard nothin’ from it either. You know anything about what’s goin’ on? You seen a train?”
McCall gave him a nod. “I was on it. It crashed into the Tartarus.”
“The river? But it’s dammed off!”
“It’s a long story,” McCall said. “I wouldn’t keep going that way though, if I were you.” He bobbed his head toward to the forest. “Nothing but death back there.”
“I don’t understand what you—”
“I’m looking for a woman and a boy that came through here last night, or maybe this morning,” McCall said, cutting the man off.
“Woman covered in blood? I found them out in the desert, just past the forest, early this mornin’. I left to look for the trains, but I had to turn around and take them back to the city. They was alive, but in pretty rough shape.” The man’s expression changed as he spoke and he tilted his head forward, looking at McCall in suspicion. “How do you know her?”
McCall wanted to scream at the sky in triumph. They’d made it. He shrugged instead, acting disinterested. “I’ve been tracking her for days. There’s a bounty on her head.”
“Well, she’s in the jail right now.” He kept looking at McCall through squinted eyes, as if he didn’t quite b
uy what McCall was selling.
Damn.
Getting involved with the local law was the last thing McCall needed. He looked back to the city and wondered what the hell he would do now. Busting Karen out of jail didn’t seem like the best of ideas. There might not be time to do it anyway – the moaners couldn’t be more than ten or twelve hours behind. Maybe a bit more, depending on how far they chased the locomotive.
“Well, I best be moving on. I’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” The man grabbed hold of the reins and turned back to the horses.
“You have a gun?” McCall asked.
“What’s that?”
“Do you have a gun?”
“I don’t have anything worth stealing,” the man said, raising his arms and shaking his head.
“Relax, I’m not robbing you.” McCall stepped toward the wagon and freed one of the pistols from its holster.
“Don’t shoot me! I ain’t done nothin’!”
McCall spun the gun in his palm so the handle faced the man. He held it up and nodded toward it. “Take it. You’ll need it.”
“I don’t understand.” He lowered his arms but didn’t take the pistol. “What are you doing?”
“When you see them, you’ll understand. Shoot ‘em in the head. It’s the only way to kill them.”
“But—”
“Take the goddamn gun.” McCall needed to get to Sheol. He didn’t have time to stand around and argue.
After another brief hesitation, the man slowly reached out and took the gun, never taking his gaze from McCall. He expected some kind of trick and only looked more confused when he wasn’t attacked.
“Thanks, I guess.” He placed the pistol in his lap and took the reins again.
“Shoot ‘em in the head,” McCall said again, before turning and walking down the trail.
He heard the snap of the leather and the pounding of hooves behind him. Though he felt better by at least giving the man a chance to defend himself, he knew that he’d been stupid to give up one of his guns. He would need every piece of iron he could get his hands on soon enough. Even still, his conscious told him to give the man a fighting chance.