The Unchanged (Book 3): Safe Harbor

by Starnes, T. M.

I just wanted to get home.

  I just wanted to know if my family was alive.

  Keep my friends alive.

  Keep myself alive.

  It was hard to breathe.

  I can’t swallow.

  I can’t breathe.

  Julie popped a loud bubble, capturing my attention as Cheyenne scooted her chair closer to me.

  “No worries, Taylor.” Julie gave me a reassuring smile.

  Janessa patted me on the back from the right, Cheyenne took my hand from the left.

  “Taylor, no one’s asking you to save us anymore,” Janessa whispered, patting my back. “You give us goals. Give us a goal.”

  Cheyenne leaned closer and whispered, “We’re safe, they just need something to do. To keep their minds occupied. To keep active. Like you’ve had us do from day to day. That’s how you kept us going.”

  I looked into Cheyenne’s dark brown, trusting eyes.

  Janessa, our short, dark-complexioned, faith-filled teenage nurse, gave me a look of understanding and hope.

  Julie popped another bubble, making me look at her.

  She winked, grinned, and blew me a kiss.

  Taking a deep breath, calming myself, centering my mind, focusing, I stood, and the rec center noise fell to a low murmur.

  “Alright. Mrs. Gale? Do you have any sort of physical training program? Some sort of exercise to get people in shape? Keep them active?”

  She shook her head. “No, not really.”

  “Diego.” I urged him to come forward.

  He covered his fist with his palm. “Yes, Sifu.”

  “I officially promote you to teacher level.” Diego looked shocked. “Take, hmm, fifteen people at a time. Set up a program like we had at the Kwan. Train them. You’ll have to take shortcuts. Get them athletic. Make them run. Teach them meditation. Teach them how to fight. I’ll help whenever I can.” Diego stared at me, and I put my hand on his shoulder. “I know this is asking a lot of you. But I believe you can handle it. Are you up to the task?”

  Diego gave me a deep bow. “Yes, Sifu. I am.”

  I smiled and bowed back at him. “Good, stand by.”

  “Janessa?” I turned to her. “You should take the Sea Scouts, the lifeguards, and the people who know first aid and start teaching them the more complicated subjects from your books.”

  “I’ll help when I can,” Cheyenne added.

  I turned to Cheyenne, “In the meantime, Cheyenne, you should take anyone who’s handy with a rifle or pistol, and the ones who know the least and start training them. Don’t use up all the ammo though.” She grinned at me. “If you can, teach them some camping knowledge. How to start a fire. Build a trap for game. Fish, if they don’t know how.”

  Cheyenne rested her elbow on the table and placed her chin in her palm. “Damn, you’re sexy when you take charge.”

  I squeezed her hand. “Julie?”

  Julie popped to attention and saluted me, “Sir, yes, sir!”

  I rolled my eyes, “Get a group and make more ninjas. There’s gotta be more bows around here, or slingshots, or ways to make Molotov cocktails. You do your road warrior thing.”

  “Aye, aye, sir! I solemnly swear that I am up to no good, sir!” She grinned and popped her bubblegum.

  “Lexi? Mia? We need eyes in the sky and more reliable people in the lighthouse to scout the area, we-”

  Mia’s hands, in addition to her furious head shaking, stopped me as she signed to her sister.

  Lexi’s brown skin darkened, and she appeared embarrassed.

  “Mia said we don’t like heights, not real heights like on top of a lighthouse, and we won’t leave the rest of you.” She pointed at me, Cheyenne, Janessa, and Julie.

  Mia locked eyes with me. She was scared.

  I smiled at her. “Alright. We’re going to make a trip to the Alpha wall to get Randy, Demetri, and Patty.” I raised my voice. “Our friend Randy used to work for his city with heavy machinery. He had relatives who worked construction. He might be able to help with the remaining wall.” I lowered my voice to address the young, brown-skinned, brave, eagle-eyed, youngest Atkin sister. “I suppose we’ll need body guards.”

  Mia grinned and nodded, hugging her sister.

  “I’ll stay here and start teaching. I’ve got things going already.” Janessa nodded.

  “I’ll pick some people and start training,” Diego said.

  “Some of my ninjas went to the wall.” Julie said, “We can check out the wall then get them back here and start a program.”

  Cheyenne stood and stretched, “Well I’m going with you, Taylor. Mrs. Gale? Could you get everyone to gather their firearms and direct them to a place with a view out toward the water behind the center? As soon as we get back, I can start lessons.”

  “Certainly, Cheyenne.” Mrs. Gale nodded appreciatively at me. “Anything I can do?”

  I smiled at my former teacher, “Keep everyone in line?” she laughed and so did the crowd, “Coordinate a defensive evacuation plan for the youngest survivors in case we have to head further down the island or evacuate to the ships anchored offshore. Make multiple evacuation plans. As we’re finding out, we don’t yet know all the dangers we’re facing or what direction they may come from.”

  “Can do.” Mrs. Gale nodded at me. “Good ideas, Taylor.”

  “I think it’s his book learnin’.” Julie grinned, speaking in a deep southern affectation.

  Julie’s radio squawked, and the person on the other end called her name.

  Julie pressed the transmit button, “Who’s calling her royal majesty of mayhem?”

  “Hey, this is Patty. Is Taylor near you?”

  Julie handed me the radio, “This is Taylor. What’s up?”

  “There’s a group of cars approaching the Alpha wall. The lookouts say a big, black, raised Dodge RAM is leading them.”

  Cheyenne glanced at me, “Benson?”

  I asked Patty if it was Amos Benson.

  “Demetri says they’re still too far away to know for sure.”

  “We’re on our way,” I said and handed Julie the radio back.

  Cheyenne picked up her rifle from the table and King leaped to his feet ready to follow her.

  “Is this Amos Benson someone we should be worried about?” Mrs. Gale asked.

  Cheyenne and Julie nodded.

  “I’m coming too, in case someone gets hurt,” Janessa said.

  Caroline came walking toward us. She was damp, holding a bottle of calamine lotion and drying off Sebastian’s head as he snoozed in his chest carrier. Her eye bandage was slipped over her wet hair with a wrapped plastic bag over her hand bandage.

  She looked at everyone’s harried expressions. “What’s going on? What did I miss?”

  I kissed her cheek, “Stay here, we’ll be right back. Mrs. Gale will help you. Ask for Sheila or Lori; they’ll love Bass.”

  “Wait, where’s everyone going?” She yelled after us. “Taylor! What’s happening?”

  But we were already in our vehicles heading toward the Beta wall.

  We each hoped arriving at the Alpha wall would not reveal the Constitutional Defenders coming to visit.

  Hope was a luxury.

  Chapter 17

  As we neared the Alpha wall, Demetri confirmed it was Amos Benson and his group.

  Their numbers had grown; more cars, more trucks, more people.

  Demetri, over the radio, said Amos was demanding entrance and safety because he made it through Avon just barely with his people, having lost four vehicles, but our people were refusing him entrance. Randy and Ellis Zimmerman, a Kill Devil Hills local and the person in charge of the Alpha wall, refused to let them enter after our people explained who they were and what they were like.

  We arrived at the wall and, as we stepped out, we could hear Amos Benson’s distinct, southern accented voice yelling over a bullhorn. Demanding a “loyal patriot” to speak to and not the “damn liberals” who were speaking for the people of Bruxton.


  Cheyenne was ahead of me as we headed toward the ladder leading up to the upper part of the wall and the ledge they built there over the entrance. Behind me was Julie, Janessa, then the Atkin sisters. King waited at the bottom of the ladder, whining, looking up at Cheyenne as she began climbing.

  “Why don’t you rednecks go find some other place to hide! Like a rock, or log!” Demetri yelled over the bullhorn.

  Cheyenne glanced back over her shoulder, her rifle strapped across her back, “Demetri’s talking smack.” She grinned.

  “I will ask again,” Amos responded in his heavy drawl, “Is there a loyal patriot of this great country that I can speak to instead of these brown mongrels trying to take over?”

  Subdued laughter at his absurd comment rippled along the wall.

  “Do people really talk like that?” Julie asked at the bottom of the ladder as I climbed. “I mean, I’ve heard some racist crap before, but c’mon.”

  “We’re Americans with or without rednecks trying to tell us how to live!” Demetri returned. “When you get back from the fifties, maybe we can talk then!”

  More laughter rippled across the wall.

  “I don’t need to speak to no-” Amos began.

  Demetri held the bullhorn up over the barricade, activating the bullhorn’s siren, then stopped.

  “This is-” Amos started to speak.

  Demetri raised the bullhorn again and set off the siren.

  As Cheyenne waited to help me off the ladder, although I didn’t need the help, not really, kinda, Demetri interrupted the CDs’ leader three more times.

  Engines roared to life on the other side of the barrier.

  I handed my cane to Cheyenne.

  Amos tried one more time. “This is your last chance to-”

  Demetri hit the siren again.

  BANG

  I glanced up as the bullhorn clattered to the ledge and Demetri toppled over backwards, ragdoll, falling on his head and neck on the ground below.

  “No!” Cheyenne screamed, looking down.

  Janessa screamed and ran toward Demetri’s still form, Julie leapt down from the ladder over Lexi’s head and ran to help.

  “No!” Cheyenne screamed, unslinging her rifle as engines reved in the distance on the other side of the wall.

  “Demetri!” Randy and Patty screamed, looking down at his unmoving form.

  Stepping off the ladder onto the platform, I glanced down at Demetri below.

  The brave, courageous young man was dead. Blood poured from his forehead wound, but the fall killed him if the bullet hadn’t. His spine stuck out of his neck and his head was twisted to the left. Janessa screamed as she knelt beside him, Julie joining her.

  “Move! Move!” Cheyenne ordered, trying to find a firing position. “Shoot back! Shoot back!” She yelled, cursing Amos Benson.

  Sporadic gunfire grew into a cacophony from the wall with return fire coming from the other side.

  “Let that be a lesson.” Amos Benson’s voice echoed over the wall.

  BANG klik-klack

  Cheyenne opened fire, screaming curses through the wall.

  Cheyenne moved from her position and ran to a shorter piece of metal with a wider view, roughly where Demetri had been standing over the entrance, as gunfire perforated the sheet metal wall. I hurried after her. Patty passed me to go help Janessa and Julie. Randy fired over the barrier.

  Cheyenne took her position, formed a shooters stance, inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, sighted through her scope and fired.

  BANG klik-klack

  She cursed Amos’ mother and their incestuous sexual relations.

  BANG klik-klack

  She inhaled, exhaled, calmed and stilled.

  BANG klik-klack

  There was a crash on the other side of the barrier and an engine whined.

  She inhaled, exhaled.

  BANG klik-klack

  Cheyenne lowered the rifle, releasing a frustrated scream and slid down to the barrier onto her rear as the gunfire around us slowly ceased and engines receded even further in the distance.

  I glanced over the barrier to see a truck had careened off the road and stuck in the sand. Two men climbed into a van before it sped away. Benson’s black truck raced away with the rest of his killers. A long wide line of vehicles followed them, backing up, doing U-turns as they headed back toward Avon.

  “I couldn’t get him, Taylor.” Cheyenne cried. “My hands were shaking. I tried.”

  I took her in my arms as Randy glanced down at Demetri, shock evident in his face.

  “I didn’t think. Demetri wanted to talk back.” Randy murmured, walking slowly by us, “He was just talking, why did they have to kill him?” He bent down and picked up Demetri’s fallen eyeglasses and punctured baseball cap, continuing talking to himself as he climbed down the ladder.

  I shut my eyes as Janessa screamed denials and Cheyenne cried on my shoulder.

  * * *

  The Bruxton survivors were shocked by the CDs actions at the barricade.

  None of the other survivors before the CDs had ever been aggressive. None showed hostility. None were cold blooded killers. Our group informed them of the events we experienced in the short time Benson’s group joined us and their true nature. The survivors couldn’t fathom how someone could do such things while monsters, literal monsters, threatened everyone unchanged.

  Janessa was devastated.

  She and Demetri were forming a deep friendship, it might have become more, but now it would never be. Janessa couldn’t even touch Demetri. Lexi and Mia cradled her as Patty, Randy, and Julie took care of his body, repositioning him, covering him. Once we came down, Janessa ran to us and we smothered her in our arms.

  Ellis Zimmerman made a command decision to open fire if the Constitutional Defenders neared again. Any new arrivals would be inspected by our group to see if they were recognized as CDs and would be quarantined even then if they were strangers.

  Randy operated the bulldozer and dug a grave to the side of the road, deep enough that animals couldn’t dig Demetri up and tides wouldn’t expose him.

  We had turned pragmatic in the last week. If we could bury someone, we would. Often, we didn’t have the chance. But when we did, it was short, sweet, and as soon as possible.

  We wrapped Demetri in a tarp, Janessa said prayers over his body between tears as we laid him to rest. We promised to avenge him. We meant it. One day, if the mutants didn’t get Amos Benson, one of us would.

  Everyone returned to the rec center. Relaxed happiness turned to sorrow as word spread. No other people were harmed on the wall, not physically at least. Everyone agreed with Ellis Zimmerman, no entry for any Constitutional Defender.

  Our defensive combat training began within three hours after the departure of the killers and our survival took a new turn. Cheyenne threw herself into training that evening.

  Everyone consoled Janessa, Demetri’s friends, and others who knew him, as best we could.

  It wasn’t enough.

  It’s never enough.

  Chapter 18

  “It’s beautiful up here,” Cheyenne said, watching the sun rise from the top of the Hatteras Lighthouse.

  This high up, the heatwave wasn’t so bad. Wind blew in from the sea, and it was comforting.

  Two days had passed since Demetri’s death and there was no sight or sound of Amos Benson and the CDs. Our training programs were in gear, surprisingly fast too. Everyone was onboard. The teenagers in our group talked to, encouraged, and trained the Bruxton youth in the things we’d seen and done on the road. My fellow islander youth showed them what they knew of Hatteras Island and how to get around, fish, and hide.

  Janessa pitched herself into training her newly recruited nursing team with Cheyenne assisting, when possible. Demetri’s death was harder on Janessa then she might have realized. We were taking turns letting her mourn and building her up. Randy and Patty kept to themselves in their sorrow over their young occasional riding companion. His de
ath affected us all, each of us dealt with it in our own way. Demetri was a great guy.

  Our lookouts, Lexi and Mia, braved the lighthouse heights after all and stood beside us, looking out at Bruxton just down the road. Bruxton was closer than they thought it would be. Initially reluctant to climb the stairs, but so happy once they got to the top, they circled around the metal walkway, laughing and pointing. Their skin glistened from suntan oil, a necessity now that we had access to larger amounts to combat the abusive sun’s rays, as they looked out to sea.

  Two small powered craft joined the anchored flotilla last night, they weren’t CDs. One was from the south and one from out at sea, having heard our radiomen stationed atop the lighthouse. One teenager and one adult were stationed now at the lighthouse with the working radio, walkie talkie, and backup batteries on a rotational basis. The light at the lighthouse was shut off at night to avoid attracting Changed. Lights that could be seen that far could attract all types of Changed.

  Sweat dripped from Cheyenne’s deeply tanned cheek under her sunglasses and cowboy hat, and I wiped it away.

  She pointed. “Look, I think there’s clouds forming out over the ocean.”

  Mia turned her binoculars out to sea, gave a thumbs up and nodded, confirming Cheyenne’s appraisal.

  Below us, the trees were brittle and dusky colored, the salt marsh south of the lighthouse was bone dry, with small pockets of water in creeks and ponds replenished by the sea, and tendrils of smoke filled the sky in distant locations. Roanoke Island no longer burned, so it was somewhere else.

  A line of fishermen dotted the southern tip of the island with the fisherman’s Jeeps parked nearby. No fast food chains dotted Hatteras village, or any part of the island, which meant fresh fish was a necessity now, instead of for pleasure or for the holy profit margin. With the lack of ice, fresh fish was on the menu every day.

  A patrol boat was coming around the southern tip of the island to be relieved. Eventually, we would have to cut back on the patrols. Fuel would get scarce. Vehicles moved down the quiet streets of Bruxton in the distance, their windshields reflecting the sun. There was no movement on Highway 12 to the Alpha wall.