"Today, Al, today. Take three or four of your guys with you. Do you think you can handle it, Al?" Willie asked.
"Oh yeah, Willie, sure, sure I can," he responded.
He's like a fuckin' puppy dog, Willie thought, before he spoke. "Okay wonder-bread, it's on you. You get that bitch, and you get her alive, understand?"
"Sure, sure I understand, Willie, what're you gonna do to her, huh? Gonna kill her or something, Willie?" his eyes shone with adoration as he spoke.
"Don't worry, Al. Tell you what, you want to do her first, Al? Before I do what I have to?"
"Oh sure, Willie, that would, you know, that would be cool, I think," Alfred answered fairly drooling with anticipation.
"Okay, Al, calm down. Now tell me what you're gonna do," Willie asked.
"Sure, Willie," he answered. "We're gonna sneak in, and we ain't gonna kill nobody unless we hav'to. We're gonna get this Jessie and we're gonna bring her back to you... Not hurt," he added hastily.
Willie took a long swig from the bottle between his legs. "Good, Al, very good, now get the fuck out of here and get ready, 'cause in just a few, you're going," Willie said.
"Sure, I'm gone already, Willie," Alfred said as he got up and beat a hasty retreat out of the living room, and through the front door.
Willie listened as the door slammed shut behind him, and took another long pull on the bottle.
He had run out of the white powder. He could settle for cocaine, he supposed, there was a virtual glut of it just laying around waiting to be picked up, but after the magic white powder that Luther had given him, cocaine was nothing.
He had fully expected to be dead by now, and it baffled him that he wasn't. He hadn't eaten in ten days or better, and he'd had nothing to drink that didn't contain alcohol in at least as many days. He sighed. "Fuck it," he said aloud, as he took another swig from the bottle.
The phone on the coffee table suddenly burred, and Willie nearly choked before he managed to swallow, and then quickly snatch the phone from the table.
"Yes," he said into the phone, in a small voice. "Yes, today, Luther," he set the phone back down and got serious about killing off the half empty bottle, "No place to hide, nowhere to go," he muttered as he drank.
Jessie
Jessie was angry...No, she corrected herself, pissed off big-time, not just, or only mad, pissed off big-time, in big capital letters. She envisioned it in her mind, PISSED OFF BIG-TIME, that's what she was she told herself, as she sat at the small table and stared at the blank screen of the television monitor.
John spoke. "You okay, Jessie?"
"No, I'm not," she said, "I'm Pissed off... Big-time," she said vocalizing the thought. "What a rotten piece of shit he is," she said, referring of course to Luther.
"Yeah, he's a piece of work all right," John agreed with a sigh, "you've got to let it go though, Jessie, we have things to do, and you can't allow your anger to get in the way of it."
"I know that, John," she said, still angry, "I'm trying to get a handle on it, okay?"
"Okay," John said soothingly, as he got up. "Want some coffee?"
"Yes," she replied, a little bit calmer, "that might help."
"Be back," John said, as he walked off.
Hank had stepped out a few minutes before. When Jessie had finished watching the recording she had been steaming, and it had scared him.
Hank liked things nice and straight forward, and in his mind women didn't get that mad. Why, women were kind and soft and gentle, like his mother, he reasoned, things like that. But they were never angry, they never swore like Jessie had, and men were never afraid of them either, he had told himself as he left the room. Maybe it would be a good idea if he just took a short walk, he had convinced himself. In fact it was time to take a walk... A long walk. Time to lay low maybe, he told himself.
Jessie drew in several deep breaths, as she sat at the table, and once she felt she had herself under control, she snatched the disc from the machine and forced herself to set it down instead of throwing it across the room, which is what she wanted to do. "Prick," she mumbled under her breath, as she sat the disc down. She reached across and picked up the disc that Frank, Gary, Jeremiah, and herself, as well as Jimmy, had made before they left. She slid it into the machine and hit the play button, then leaned back into her seat to watch it.
Watertown
Frank
Frank turned from staring out over the water and asked, "How much longer you think, Gary?"
"Twenty minutes, maybe less," he responded, after checking his watch.
Frank turned. "Almost there guys," he said. Jeremiah and Jimmy walked forward and stared out over the water.
"It's changed a bit," Gary said, "we should already be on dry land, and, as you can see, we ain't."
"That bad?" Jeremiah asked.
"Not if we want to save time it ain't," Gary replied, "the closer the better, I just gotta be careful is all, don't know how deep it is here."
"Seems pretty deep to me," Jimmy said doubtfully.
"Seeming deep, and being deep, is two totally different things," Gary said, as he dropped the throttle to a low idle. They coasted slowly up what looked to be a wide and calm river.
"This is new," Gary said, a trace of wonder in his voice "looks like it might be what used to be White creek. If it is, we'll be coming in a lot closer than we figured to be," he finished.
"How's that?" Frank asked, feeling foolish.
"White creek comes right into Fort Drum, is why, and if this is it, we're coming straight into... Damn if it ain't!" he said pointing ahead. "That's the water tower, and soon as we get through these trees, I'll bet ya dollars-to-donuts it says Fort Drum on it," he finished excitedly.
"Well, how far from here to that Jeffery's place you figure?" Jeremiah asked.
"Mile, maybe mile and a half," Gary answered, smiling. Jeremiah started to turn to Frank. "Be about forty hours left," Frank answered, before he could ask.
The boat coasted through the trees, and they all read the lettering on the water tower, slapping Gary on the back as they did.
"Good navigating, Gary," Jimmy said.
"Fine, that's for sure," Jeremiah said also. They all knew they were trying to hold the lighthearted mood that they had just acquired seconds before, they knew as well that it was no use. It was time to be serious, lives, not the least of all their own, were at stake.
Frank jumped to the grassy shore, caught the rope Jeremiah threw to him, and pulled the boat in closer, tying it off to the thick trunk of a nearby tree.
"Think that'll be okay, Gary'?" he asked as he knotted the rope, and the remaining three men stepped ashore.
"I take it you were never in the Navy, Frank," he said, as he looked over the three square knots, Frank had used. "It ain't going nowhere I don't think. The rope'll break first, Frank."
Frank put one more knot in the rope to be sure, before he looked up and then followed Gary, who was shaking his head, away from the boat.
"What?" he asked, as he caught up to him.
"Nothin', Frank, I was just bustin' your chops is all," Gary replied smiling. They walked up to a vine covered road. Or at least it looked like it had been a road, Frank thought, as he joined Jeremiah, and Jimmy.
"What's with the vines?" Jimmy asked.
"Don't know, but they're everywhere, Jim," Gary replied, "started the same night the bombs fell... Jeremiah?"
"Don't know any more than you do, walked over a whole bunch of them myself. Wasn't something He thought to let me in on," Jeremiah replied. "Which way, Gary?" he asked, as he looked up from the vines, and down the road in both directions.
"Left," Gary replied, and started away. The others stood for only a second, and then fell in behind him.
Jessie
Jessie watched the recording that was due to be transmitted in little over four hours. It was an old ruse, probably wouldn't work, she thought, but it had been the best they could come up with on short notice.
The s
ix of them, John included, stared grimly at the camera. Their reasoning had been simple. If Luther was aware that they could transmit, then he had probably been, and would probably continue, monitoring their broadcasts. The recording was set up to appear live, and the speed with which they had recorded it heightened that quality.
Frank stared grimly into the camera and spoke...
"...We felt we needed to inform you of something that developed earlier today," he began. Behind him a large screen lit up and began to replay carefully edited parts of Luther's recent broadcast, as Frank spoke. The clock behind Frank read 6:00 PM, and the hope was that Luther would buy it as a live transmission. If not it would all be for nothing...
"...Think it will work?" John asked from behind her as he re-entered the room.
"No," she replied, "I don't, at least not entirely. Can somebody like him even be fooled?"
"I don't know," John said tiredly, "if he can't be fooled, maybe he can be confused. I mean he can't be all seeing, and all knowing... he's not God."
Jessie's eyes brightened. "Maybe then," she said hopefully.
"Maybe," John agreed, "just maybe."
They watched the rest of the short ten minute recording in silence. It consisted of showing the edited recording, while Frank talked about their need to discuss it with everyone else, and a short plea for more time at the end. They made no mention of Luther's demand to turn over five of the assembled group. It had been Frank’s suggestion to leave it out, but Frank did say they were considering his demands, which left it open to Luther's interpretation. At the most, they knew, it would only buy them a few extra hours if Luther went for it, but those few extra hours might allow Frank, Jeremiah, Gary and Jimmy, to get to Fort Drum.
They also knew that once Luther realized that he had been tricked, he might push the button right then. The whole thing's a crap shoot, Jessie thought, as the recording ended, and she turned off the machine.
She looked at John. "No way to know," he said, as if reading her mind, "but it beat's doing nothing."
"Jeremiah thinks they'll come at us today from the north side," she said.
"When did he say that?" John asked, surprised.
"After Frank went for coffee, he told Hank, I guess. He didn't want Frank to know. Hank told Jimmy too, and Jimmy told him to make sure that I was aware. Jeremiah told him to tell me I should make myself scarce," she said, "wonder why?"
"No telling with him, but... If it was me he had said that to, you can bet I'd be making myself scarce," John said thoughtfully, and then continued. "Odd though that Jeremiah didn't tell you or me directly," he shrugged. "I believe I'll just keep an eye on you today, if you don't mind," he held up his hand when she began to protest. "I'm not saying you can't handle yourself, Jessie, but two is better than one any way you look at it," he favored her with a stern look. "I mean it, Jessie, if he said it, even if he didn't say to us directly, he didn't say it to hear himself speak."
"Okay, "she said, "you win. You can babysit me, John."
"That makes me feel better," John said. "I'm an old man, Jessie, but I spent a lot of years in this city dealing with the bad elements of it, I can hold my own, and then some if I have to," he patted the .38 that was holstered at his hip as he finished speaking.
"I intend to stay right in here today anyway," Jessie said, "I want to make sure nothing goes wrong when we broadcast that recording."
"Well in that case," John said, getting up from the small table, "I guess I'll go get us some more coffee," he walked off as he finished speaking.
"Thanks," Jessie called after him.
Willie
Willie Lefray leaned back into the worn old couch in the living room of the house on Hudson Avenue. The empty bottle lay in shards in one corner of the room, where Willie had flung it. He had drained the last drop from the bottle, and then flung it against the wall when he realized there was not another bottle to replace it. He had of course called Mike in from the front porch, and had him dispatch someone to liberate a new supply from one of the many liquor stores that dotted the avenue. Whoever he had sent would be in hot water when they returned though, Willie promised himself, they had already been gone for more than three hours. How long does it take to follow simple fuckin' directions and go to a damn liquor store, Willie wondered. Probably forever, he told himself. Especially with this bunch of morons he was saddled with.
He debated calling Mike back in to find out what was taking so long, but rejected it. Mike was dumber than Alfred, he knew, and Alfred was a frigging moron. A creepy moron, but still a moron. Actually, Willie thought, the guy scares me a little. He looks like a little kid, and even acts like a little kid. Sort of naive, maybe even innocent-looking to someone who didn't know better. Willie knew, however, that it was nothing but an act. Alfred was a straight out nut-case, and the calm kid-like demeanor could change in an instant, without warning.
The kid was also loyal. Well, not loyal, he reasoned, more like devoted, or fanatical. Alfred embraced evil and death, more even than Willie himself did.
The day Willie had arrived he had dismissed Alfred out of hand, simply because of that kid-like quality. Alfred had begged Willie to make him one of his right hand men, the friggin' kid had been in tears over it, and Willie had jokingly told him that all the positions were filled, and that if he wanted in, he would have to kill his way in. Willie had figured that would satisfy the kid. Either he would be killed trying to take out someone, or he would simply walk away, and Willie would have bet ten to one on the walking away. Either way Willie didn't have the time for him.
But, no sooner had the words been out of Willie's mouth, than the kid had turned quickly, cat-like almost, Willie thought, and slit the throat of one of the guys Willie had bought with him. The guy had been standing there laughing at Alfred. At how pitiful he looked, and a second later he had been gagging on his own blood, and trying to hold his neck together, before he crashed to the floor.
Yeah, Willie thought, Alfred was a nasty little bastard all right, and he had no doubt that he would manage to bring the woman back.
The phone call from Luther had been short and to the point. Get her, but get her alive. "It should be easy, even for a no-brained fuck-up like you, Willie," Luther had said. "After all, Willie my sweet, I did the hard work for you, I lured their big shots away, I opened the door and left her alone, and I think you should be able to handle one old man, hmm, Willie, think you can handle it?"
Luther had an inside man over there, Willie correctly guessed. He had no idea who, and hadn't asked, but whoever it had been had told him that the four men, who in Luther's estimation held everything together, were gone. While Alfred went for the woman, Willie himself would lead a small army right into their midst. There wouldn't be anyone, or anything, to stop them, Luther had assured him.
Willie planned to be sneaky about it though, he already had snipers stationed close to the roadblocks. They were so stupid that they didn't even try to hide behind their barricades. They just walked back and forth, like they were on guard duty at a friggin' factory somewhere. Apparently, Willie thought, they didn't take a threat from the north side seriously. After today they would though, Willie promised himself, and smiled as he did.
He got up from the worn sofa. "MIKE, where the fuck is that little bastard you sent to the liquor store?" he yelled, as he opened the front door. If the little prick didn't get back soon, there wouldn't be time for another drink before he'd have to leave.
Jessie
Jessie stood up from the small table. It was nearing 6:00 PM, time to play the tape. John had left ten minutes before to get them some fresh coffee, but hadn't returned yet. What's keeping him? She wondered, as she walked toward the hallway. She was almost to the door when a red-haired wild-eyed looking kid came running through it, nearly knocking her over.
"Ma'am...Miss Stone, ya gotta come quick, ya gotta, they're coming through the barricades, and they got John, Ma'am, they got... you gotta come quick!" the kid said in a panicked voice.
The kid was clearly scared witless, Jessie realized. "Calm down, calm down," she said as she grabbed him by the shoulders, and shook him. The kid was carrying what looked to be a machine gun, Jessie saw. What the hell are they doing putting a young kid like this on guard duty? Jessie thought angrily.
"Miss Stone?" the kid asked still sounding panicky, "you are Miss Stone I was supposed to come get, right?"
"Yes, now calm down," Jessie said sternly, turning away from the kid and heading toward the table where she had left her gun, "just let me get my..."
"Good," the kid said from behind, cutting her off. "Real good."
Bright stars exploded in her head, cutting off the rest of what she had been going to say. WHAT... she thought, as she crumpled to the floor. She was dimly aware of the sound of gun fire, before she passed out.
Hank Nelson entered the room just as Alfred clubbed Jessie in the back of the head with the machine gun. Alfred quickly reversed the gun and aimed it at Hank.
"Hey!" Hank yelled in surprise, and then looked fearfully to the gun in Alfred's hands. "Hey, don't kid, I'm on..."
Alfred didn't let him finish. He squeezed the trigger and in a split second Hank was cut in two by a hail of bullets.
"Fuck you," Alfred spat, as Hank fell to the floor. Two men appeared in the doorway behind him, Alfred whirled around cat-quick but lowered the weapon once he recognized them. "Pick her up, let's go," he ordered. The two men quickly did as ordered, and followed Alfred out into the hallway. They passed John's lifeless body in the corridor, where Alfred had let it fall, after he had snuck up behind him and clubbed him in the back of the head as he had Jessie. He had slit John's throat, almost before he had hit the ground, and so he had made no sound whatsoever. Alfred kicked an empty paper coffee cup, resting by one of John's outstretched hands, out of his way as they trotted by.
Outside, in the late afternoon air, the sound of gun fire reverberated through the Streets. It was audible now, even inside the building. Alfred mowed down a group of seven people with the machine gun, who had been crouched fearfully just inside the doorway to the building, as he came upon them. None of them had the chance to return fire, or even turn around, and Alfred, followed by the two men, trampled over their bodies as he pushed through the doorway and out into the street.
Earth's Survivors Box Set [Books 1-7] Page 192