“We could help each other. You said so, it’s not a black/white thing anymore,” Tom says.
“This ain’t about race; this is about food for my homies. And your five we ain’t feeding. We’re going to take the city back block by block.”
“I was a fireman in that city. I know those streets.”
“You don’t know shit. Now take the pack and go. Before I decide I need those one-hundred rounds. More than I need to be letting the living live.” He releases the pack.
Tom joins his team as the black men back away, rifles pointed at them.
As Dakota digs in the bag for a pistol, the black man tosses a rag bundle at them before disappearing among the cars.
Darcy retrieves it. Using her knife, she cuts the string. Five clips spill out.
“Fucker sure didn’t want us to be able to shoot back.” Dakota tears open the cardboard ammo box.
“At least he got us within sight of the plane,” Danielle points out.
“We do have some supplies there, but Tom was fucked without our gear and access to more.”
“They fucked us good.” Dakota racks the slide, loading the weapon. “I say we go fuck him.”
“Go if you want, but those men were too organized to be run-of-the-mill bangers. Whoever leads them has top-notch military training and you will stand out among them with your lack of a tan. You kids do what you want. I’m heading west. Fort Wood remains an option and I’ll be there in a week on foot, faster once I’m out of the suburbs and I find a running car.”
“You’re just going to leave us?” Darcy whines.
“You’re invited.” Tom struggles as he presses a round into a clip. “Too many rotters; too many survivors this close to the city. We need to leave.”
Darcy loads her clip before Tom has his half complete. She trades him. “I’m going with you.”
“Fort Wood would be safe with all those soldiers. Are you taking up the mantle of leadership, Tom?” Dave asks.
“Most decisions we should make as a group this size. If we have an opportunity to discuss. If we have to make battle choices, you do whatever I say.”
“I’ll live with that. Danielle?”
“I sure as fuck ain’t staying with Dakota here to die,” she says.
“What about it, Dakota?”
“It’s like two-hundred miles. We need to find a car.”
“Six Flags.”
“What, Darcy?”
“We hoof it to Eureka. Six Flags is there. Got to be parking lot full of cars and the caravan jam up never reached it,” she says.
“Get what we have stashed in the plane. Sounds like we have the start to a plan.” Tom holsters his weapon.
KALE SPREADS THE county map across the kitchen table. He inspects the lines and roads until he locates the FEMA farm placing a miniature house in the location. “You did good, Brother.”
Mary carries in a folding chair. “What are we to do with the children like Josiah? You brought back several more in your last run. Many were from Fort Wood.” She daintily places herself in the chair poised so her spine doesn’t touch the back of the chair.
“I’ve been interviewing each one of them. Kale will job place them. I bet they’ll work the fields,” Kaleb says.
“Interviewing them, why?” Mary asks.
“It seems that bastard who killed our brothers did his own interviewing. He took people with certain skill sets.”
Kale impatiently asks, “What kind of skills?”
“Engineers, electricians, welders, machinists, even a frogman. Where the fuck are you going to go diving in Missouri?”
Kale takes a highway map spreading over the county map knocking over the miniature horse. “They left by the front gate. Some evidence says they went toward Columbia.” He taps the city on the map. “MU had a large population. They would have to fend off a lot of infected.” He thinks a moment. “This man recruited people with building skills. Construction means noise.” Kale snaps his fingers. “It has to be a more rural area.”
“Contemplate it later. We must focus on building this farm.” Mary touches Kaleb’s arm.
Kale takes the road map from the table. He will bide his time until he removes this witch from his brother’s ear. “We have fuel and weapons. The fuel will sour so we use it to gather supplies to sustain us through the winter. By next winter will have crops to supplement the last of any supplies. I calculate by then most buildings will be devoid of anything useful.”
“How long before we take this area?” Kaleb taps the map.
“Those are housing developments,” Kale explains.
“Rich housing developments—mansions. I want my wife to be in one of these homes.”
“Feasibly? The distance requires too much security to hold down this area and those homes. We need to expand outward and protect these southern farms. We need the fields and we need to graze cattle,” Kale explains.
“I want my baby to be housed like the queen she is.”
“Foolish lustrousness will be our downfall. Those tolling in the dirt won’t stand by while you live in splendor. Remember the Czars of Russia,” Kale says.
“We need to reclaim homes. Why not these mansions?” Mary taps the map. “We take one as the government house and living space. The rest we use as boarding homes for the masses. The community is gated so it has a wall to protect it already. Use these houses as a central location, not some isolated farm.”
“It’s just outside Rolla. The city will have infected.”
“No. It was clear. Most of the early Fort Wood civilians were directly evacuated from there. All personal effects left behind. The city is…El Dorado,” Kaleb says.
“Your brother has his own plans, Kale. You must accept your plans are not the only options,” Mary interjects.
“Kaleb, you are in command of our group. We must be unified to exist, but we also must make moves that make sense.”
“There are still tons of Fort Wood people scattered in the area. If they figure out Rolla has been virtually untouched, we lose valuable supplies and those desperate people will loot and damage. So, we claim it first.” Kale refuses to capitulate with Mary. He attempts to regain his beachhead thought defection. “What else did you learn from those you picked up from Fort Wood?”
“The dude never shared his name. But he was there for two days before the soldiers evacuated. Some say he had been there lots before and left with supplies and equipment each time. He was a giant, broad-shouldered fucker. Hard to miss with his limp. Dude was built like a mountain and carried a shiny .357.”
“He must have stood out if people remember so much about him.”
“His size, mostly, and the way he carried himself—no fear. One guy, a welder, said he was interviewed.”
“You found a welder?” Mary interrupts.
“Yeah. He’s pretty upset. Said he was interviewed by this dude—our unnamed brother’s killer. When the welder declined his offer, they placed him in protective custody, so he couldn’t tell anyone about the civilians being collected to leave the base.”
“Travis knew the soldiers were abandoning and decided to save a select few,” Kale says.
“Fucker did it to save that blonde bitch daughter. The one Kade should have fucked—interfering bitch.”
The wheels in Kale’s mind whirl. “You might have brought to the table the best clue to locating this man. Colonel Travis was ordered to leave behind all civilians, including his precious daughter.” Kale rubs his baby smooth chin. “This unnamed man has a camp. A secure camp made more secure by military equipment and necessary personnel—hand selected personnel.”
“What are you driving at?”
“The location we seek is not just some farm in a field with fence. No, this place is a fortress someplace to keep Travis’s kid safe for years in case it takes that long for the military to retake the country.”
“Prison.”
“What?”
“Prisons would be the perfect fortresses. Walls,
self-contained, sniper towers. Motor pools, machine shops. We should be storming a prison.”
“You still need food and would have to constantly be sending out teams to gather supplies.” Kale strikes a chord. “Besides, your queen would have to be housed in a cell. No mansions for her.”
“We’d need a tank to bust into one of those places anyway if people already had it secure. We’ll build our kingdom here,” Kaleb decrees.
“You seem lost in thought.” Mary glances at Kale.
“Basically, we’ve returned to a medieval agrarian society. Most people will have to return to farming. I may have designed our defenses incorrectly. I planned for overwhelming number of undead but perhaps we need to consider a siege mentality involving the living.”
“What do you mean?” Mary asks.
“Once we have food and a sustainable community, people will want to take it from us.”
“They can try,” Kaleb boasts.
“What are you thinking, genius?” Mary asks.
“A wall community would still need added defenses.” Kale drifts deep into thought.
“You’ll get your mansion, baby.” Kaleb drapes his arm over her shoulder.
“Being with you is all I need, Kaleb.” She seductively caresses his hand. “Does he always strike-out like this?”
“He’ll snap back with, like, the complete plans to the Death Star. Kid’s a fucking precocious.”
“I’m not sure he likes me.” She switches into her coy mode.
“When he has plans, and is heavy in thought, he doesn’t like anyone.”
“I want you to be careful out there. And promise no more rapes. You have to bring people into our fold and they have to trust they are safe.” Mary leans her head against him.
Kale wakes from his trance. “A cave.”
Both Mary and Kaleb remain quizzical.
“Missouri is the cave state. Caves would make secure strongholds. With little chance of penetration and one or two entrances to guard. Also, the known big ones are in state parks…lacking populated areas to draw too many infected.”
“The most well know is Meramec Caverns,” Mary says.
“Yes, and next to it is Onondaga Cave. Some think they connect, but they would be prime locations for an apocalyptic hideout.”
“But is in the opposite direction as Columbia,” Kaleb points out.
“The direction was a ruse. They backtracked at some point toward their true destination knowing some Fort Wood civilians would attempt to follow when the walls fell. Desperate people wouldn’t think it was misleading,” Kale explains.
Mary wonders, “Wouldn’t they be dark?”
“People have been using them long before electricity. Some served as speakeasies.”
“Then me and some of the boys are going to make a run to the caverns,” Kaleb says.
“There are more important items to deal with here,” Mary protests.
“Nothing’s more important than avenging my brother,” Kaleb voice raises in defiance of all her work to control him.
“Kale, if you follow these country roads you’ll make good time. More importantly if people are there—do not engage. Scout it. We’ll make battle plans. If you go in halfcocked we’ll lose valuable men.” He digs through a drawer of a corner desk. “In fact—” he hands him a new, still encased in plastic digital camera “—take pictures of the location. We’ll develop a plan of attack,” Kale instructs.
“I won’t. There’s no room for mistakes anymore. No reset. I get it. But if I get the chance, I’ll bring you the fucker’s head,” Kaleb swears.
“Now what needs to help prepare this farm to annex the gated community,” Mary asks.
“I wanted to expand toward these farms for the land, but if we move this direction we can move north and assume the gated community. But I suggest we maintain our strength here until all the FEMA supplies are used,” Kale suggests.
“The more people we bring in the harder it is to trust them.”
Kale wonders what new wedge Mary places between him and his brother.
“Once you find this murderer, it may be best if you lead fewer saving missions and stay here. Keep those who question what must be done in line.”
“We should control the people with our strength, not fear,” Kale protests. “They won’t respond to fear. They’ll leave.”
“Leave to where? There is no place left to go.” Mary rises. “They will have no choice but to stay. As long as Kaleb keeps them safe they will relish being ruled by a king.”
“HAVE YOU SEEN Ethan check his map in the last two days?” Becky asks as she snatches her backpack from the truck bed. She rubs at her neck. Ethan bumped the tree he parked against a little harder than she felt necessary.
“Not today.” Chad rests his rifle over his forearm as he marches across the field after Ethan.
“He seems to know where he’s going for not having scouted this place before.”
Ethan moves as if the beating never happened.
Becky, for the first time on this trip, has to step faster to keep up with her leader. “If I dropped you off in any of the fields we were traveling across yesterday, could you tell the difference than the field we’re in now?”
“No.” Chad ascribes this as an explanation to the order Simon screams constantly, “move like you have a purpose.”
“This area is way south of anyplace where he’s taken a scavenging team to collect supplies.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Chad says. “One tree looks the same to me.”
“Don’t you think you should be paying attention to our route? What if we get separated?”
“I ain’t leaving Ethan. Most of these towns have the same style buildings and street names. Besides I was thinking about other—”
Ethan steps over a smashed fence. He hurdles the ditch making a beeline straight across the blacktop to climb the fence across the road.
“Anytime he finds a road, he checks the map,” Becky says. “But not so much as a glance since we got in the truck this morning.”
“What are you driving at?”
“Nice pun. I’m observing.” She mashes down the wire fence to step over it. “We have to pay attention to everything now. Our first clue should have been using a vehicle.”
“I thought he was making up time for our night in the convenience store.”
Ethan marches with a fervor Becky has yet to encounter in their leader. His limp has dissipated completely as he picks up speed.
Chad snags his pant leg on a broken wire. Once free, he runs to catch up. “You guys were going to leave me.” He jabs his index finger into the new hole in his jeans. “Damn, it isn’t going to be easy finding a new pair.”
As if he’s forgotten about his companions, Ethan vaults a fence into the backyard of a saltbox house. Landing next to a jungle gym swing set he increases speed. Under one of the swings a pile of dirt marks a child-sized grave.
Ethan enters the back door.
Becky draws her gun at the sound of crashes. She sprints to the fence line. Angry yelps and more smashing noises echo.
“Set up a perimeter,” she orders Chad. “Noise will attract biters.”
“How do I do that?”
“Circle the house. Make sure the immediate area is clear.”
Furniture and shelves have all been overturned. Ethan clamps his hands over his face.
Becky scans the room before holstering her pistol. Noise of this magnitude should bring out any hidden biters. She steps with caution toward her travel companion. She doesn’t want him to instinctively reach for his gun. Even beaten near to death, she knows his speed is unmatched.
With every ounce of body control, she touches his shoulder with gentleness. She makes one guess with her question, “Was this her house?”
She’s not sure if he cries under his covered face, and his nod was so subtle she might have mistaken it. What do you say? She glances over the smashed shelves. The items seconds ago, resting on it are mostly in
a heap, but several picture frames stand out. She fights the urge to rush over and view one, through her palm she detects the body shiver of someone releasing tears even if their flow is silent.
Not knowing what to do or say, she stands there. The man was beaten to near death. He’s killed more biters. He protects the camp and all who live inside not only from what is outside but within. Becky doesn’t know what to say to the man who, if Acheron survives, will live in the memories of the people as a Beowulf figure.
Chad bursts through the front door. “Hey.”
Becky waves for him to leave.
“Biters.”
His single word response snaps Ethan to his feet. “Any of them children?”
“All adult size.” Chad slips out the door.
“Ethan, who lived here?” Becky asks.
“Ghosts.”
“WHERE ARE WE?” Kalvin asks. He checks the metal shelves of the garage.
“Somewhere below Jefferson City and above Fort Word,” Karen says. “Close to some town called Vienna.”
“We’re making good time.” Frank drops his tools into a side pocket in his pack. “This truck won’t start.”
“I’m not Ethan. We don’t have to hoof it all the way to the Queens City if we’re not out scavenging supplies.” Karen folds her map. “Let’s find another truck to jump start.”
“Trucks will get us there in days. You said we’d be gone a month.”
“Safe guess,” Karen says. “We don’t know what we’ll discover when we get closer to Springfield. And if the city has fallen we may have a couple thousand biters to escape.”
“What a happy positive thought.”
“Two interstates designed to bypass the city actually encircle it. If people organized quickly—”
Bam.
As if choreographed, they all three crouch as low as possible and still be on their feet—guns in hand.
“Where?” Karen whispers.
“Not sure. Not at us. The echo means it’s close, but not sure of the direction,” Kalvin speculates.
“We’ve gone all this time without a biter.” Karen duck-walks to the garage door. Peering out, the rural road remains vacant. She signals Frank. He takes up position on the opposite side of the truck door. Kalvin races out the door low as possible reaching the tree in the yard’s center.
No Room In Hell (Book 2): 400 Miles To Graceland Page 24