Samantha Sharp Chronicles 1

by C C Roth

  Get up, It said.

  I looked around me and took stock of what I was doing. Poor Mike was god knows where and I was lying around being selfish, thinking only of myself.

  Typical, It sneered.

  I stood and walked into the cabin. My rifle was leaning up against the wall just inside the door where I’d left it. “If only,” I said to myself as I picked it up and ran my hand over the barrel. That would be the last time I ever let it out of my sight. If only I’d brought it with me maybe I could have stopped them. Maybe Mike wouldn’t have had to sacrifice himself so I could get away. I pictured their faces, the ones who took him, and I pictured the men who’d killed our parents. They’d taken everything from me, my entire family and our future. My mother and I were finally growing close and beginning to build a bridge over so many lost years. Years of longing for a better relationship with her and they ripped that chance from me. I didn’t even get to tell her that I loved her before she died. The last words I had said to her were when we were fighting. I’d yelled at her and blamed her for everything. That was on me. But they stole my chance to say I was sorry and make things right. They stole my father who had always put me first and made sure I knew I was loved. And now they had Mike.

  I pictured the faces of the men that took him and I could feel my cold friend grow and grow until it enveloped me and I wasn’t just Sam anymore. I was part of a greater whole, an intangible force within. We were as one and I felt strong, powerful and at peace. I would kill them, those men. Kill them all. Whoever was responsible would die and I wouldn’t stop until I had my brother back.

  And maybe not even then, It snarled.

  7- When the Ice Breaks

  Iwas a mess after sprinting through the woods and rolling around on the ground but if I was going to get to my brother I needed to act quickly. I moved swiftly through the cabin, packing my mom’s backpack with supplies. A change of clothes, food, water, and extra bullets. Lots of bullets. I didn’t know when I’d be back or if at all. Once I had the supplies I needed I turned everything off in the house and locked up. No sad goodbyes and no reminiscing. I grabbed my stuff and ran to the car.

  Scott and his men were obviously taking Mike somewhere and somebody had to know where. Someone who knew everyone around this area and met anyone passing through. Someone who’d had run in with these guys before. I needed to go back to Frank’s. He was the one who warned us about these people in the first place. It pained me to think about the last time we were there and I didn’t know how I would keep away the image of my dead parents lying in his parking lot. But I’d have to get over it if I was going to get to Mike. They were gone but I still had family out there and I wasn’t just going to let these assholes take him away. Not without a fight.

  I sat behind the wheel in the driver’s seat. This would be interesting. It wasn’t as if I’d never driven before but I wasn’t exactly a pro or anything either. Driving occasionally around our neighborhood a few times hardly compares to navigating the back roads of Hillsboro. I didn’t have time to care so I put my rifle across the seat next to me and took off. The roads were narrow, winding and completely terrifying to me but my cold friend didn’t care. It pushed me forward while had I been by myself I would’ve pulled the car over and freaked. My driving inexperience cost me some time, taking almost twice as long to get to Frank’s as it should have. But I made it. Lucky for me the Avian-X outbreak had wiped out any traffic issues. No rush hour post apocalypse.

  I must’ve looked rough because everyone stopped and stared at me as I marched into Frank’s. I had Mom’s Remington braced in front of me like a shield. No way I was ever going anywhere without it again. His wife behind the counter nodded at me in recognition but her expression was the same scowl as usual. Frank was in the back talking to a stocky little man with a red beard. He excused himself and joined me by the door, concern on his face.

  “Sam? It’s good to see you. Are you alright?”

  “They took him.” I just blurted it out. “They took him and I need to know where.”

  The face of complete confusion was staring back at me until he deciphered what I meant.

  “Come with me so we can talk.”

  “No. I know you know something. Tell me where he is. I need to go now.” I wasn’t yelling but my intensity had certainly caught the other two patrons’ attention.

  Frank nodded and placed a fatherly hand on my back to guide me to a staircase. I went, still griping my rifle so tightly my fingers were tingling. The stairs led up to a small apartment above the station. It was well cared for and clean. Tidy little knick-knacks adorned a small curio cabinet and there were framed photos on the wall of a boy my age. I recalled they had lost a son and assumed the photos must be him. Frank pulled out a chair from the small kitchen table and brought me a bottle of water from the counter.

  “Here, drink this. You need water.”

  I complied and drank the bottle almost entirely. I’d been in such a frenzy earlier I hadn’t thought to drink anything. “Thank you.” I said.

  “Now, tell me what happened? Where’s your brother?”

  “They took him. I think the same people that killed my parents. They said something about a training program but I know they were lying.”

  Frank nodded slowly and released a deep breath. “I see.”

  “Do you know where they took him? When we were here, before, you said that there was a militia in Bloomfield. You were talking about them, right? These are the same men?”

  He nodded again. “They’ve taken others.” His eyes darted quickly to the photo on the wall. “Do you know who it was? Were they wearing uniforms?”

  “No. No uniforms. There were seven. The one in charge said his name was Scott. I don’t know about the others.”

  “I know Scott. He’s an asshole. The military has him running errands for them and generally keeping people around here terrified. They figure if everyone is scared, they’ll have no choice but to fall in line. So far it’s been working. How’d you get away?”

  “I broke his nose and killed three of the others.”

  He flinched a little at my cold tone. “Jesus.”

  “How do I find them?” I asked again, my urgency growing.

  He shook his head, dumbfounded at how a small girl had bested seven grown men. “I can’t let you do that, Sam. You’re just a kid and you’re all alone. I know you’re probably upset but I can’t let you go after these men by yourself. It’s suicide.”

  I heard what he said but I didn’t even process it. His words were butting up against a deep fog in my mind and I could barely recognize them. My cold friend was getting impatient and so was I. One way or another, we were getting an answer.

  “But you know where they are. You could tell me how to get to them?” My voice felt like it wasn’t my own. Too blunt and harsh.

  He stared at me, not knowing what to say. He wasn’t going to tell me anything. Frank was a good man and he thought he was protecting me.

  I stood and knocked over the chair in one clumsy motion. “Fine, I’ll just go then. I know which direction it is. Maybe they’ll be waiting for me with open arms.”

  Just then the door creaked opened and Ellen, his wife, shuffled in. Her eyes met mine, taking in the state of me, her scowl still firmly in place. Then she turned to Frank, waiting for an explanation.

  “They took her brother and she wants me to tell her where they are,” he said matter of fact.

  Ellen didn’t even pause. “Let her go,” she said firmly.

  “Now, Ellen…” He started to protest but she cut him off with a flash of her shaking hand.

  “Let her go. Tell her what you can to help and let her go. Someone has to do something. If she’s willing to try then you have no right to stand in her way. Besides, look at her face. She’s going after them whether you help her or not. At least this way maybe she’ll have a better chance.”

  Her response surprised me but then I saw why she wanted to help. She went to the small table
to her right and opened a drawer pulling out something small. Her face was warped with sadness as she handed it to me. It was a school photo of the same boy who adorned their walls.

  “I know he’s probably gone but if you see him, please tell him I love him and that we tried. His name is Noah.”

  I examined the tiny photo in my hand. He was handsome with blonde hair and a nice smile. He could’ve been a guy at my school.

  Frank shook his head and cleared his throat trying to choke back his grief. “I went after them when they first took him but there were too many of these guys and not enough of us. They shot my buddy, Thomas, when we refused to leave. Shot him dead right in front of me and told me if I didn’t leave it alone then they’d come for the rest of my family and anyone else I knew. They named almost all my friends, most with families of their own to take care of.” He hung his head a bit, ashamed. “I’m not afraid of dying but I don’t want to be the cause of anyone else getting hurt.”

  Ellen walked over and put her hands on Frank’s shoulders. “Maybe he’s alright. Maybe he is. We don’t know.”

  Frank shook his head, pushing his emotions aside. “Dammit. Well, I’ll do what I can to help but I won’t be responsible when this all goes to pot, got it?”

  I nodded my understanding.

  “Fine. Ellen, grab me that paper and pen.”

  He drew me a crude map of Bloomfield marking the main points of interest and explaining each as he went. “The whole town is on lockdown and these guys hold the key. They are guarding every main entry point and they are not friendly. This is the community building which is now more like a headquarters for the militia. They’re just average people most of them. Guys that got scared when everything went down and they panicked. Unfortunately, there is a strong military presence running everything, so they’re organized. At least 20 trained soldiers, not just idiots like Scott. These people were supposed to be running a checkpoint and keeping everyone safe but after the government went dark they just stayed put and kind of took over. And unfortunately, the people in town were either too scared to stand up to them or too scared to realize there’s a better way.”

  He pointed to another spot on his map. “This is the train station. It was mostly a tourist attraction but the rails are still operational and they’ve been running trains in and out of there for a month transporting people.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked confused. “Where are they taking them?”

  “I don’t know why or where they’re going but I’ve got a buddy that lives near the tracks and he’s told me what he’s seen. We talk on the radio,” he said nodding toward an ancient looking black box covered with knobs and dials. “Now it’s not like people aren’t going in and out of town it’s just that once you’re in, they’re in charge. If they don’t like the way you look at them you get shot or you end up on the train.”

  I thought all this over as I studied his drawing. If what he said was accurate then there would be some sort of guarded blockade at every main road into the town. “We might have a problem. The men that took Mike have seen me and will recognize me for sure.”

  Ellen had been standing by listening. “Maybe they won’t. What if you wear a mask? A lot of people, most in fact, are still wearing theirs. Especially when traveling so it wouldn’t be out of place for someone to come in with one on.”

  Frank rubbed his weathered face and moved his wrinkles around a bit as he considered this. “I think that’d be fine. Put on a baseball hat, a mask, and you’ll want to change your clothes if this is what they saw you in. Yep, it could work.”

  Ellen seemed pleased and an almost smile appeared on her permanently sad face.

  “But that’ll only get you in. What are you going to do once you’re in there?”

  It was my mouth that answered but someone else’s words that came out of the darkest part of me. “Kill them. Kill them all.”

  Frank’s face went blank as he stared at me. He looked a little frightened but it wasn’t clear if the fear was for me or because of me.

  Ellen broke the silence. “You’re going to need more guns.”

  I like this lady.

  ✽✽✽

  We decided that Frank would drive me into Bloomfield. It might arouse less suspicion if I wasn’t traveling alone since word may be out about the teenage girl that broke Scott’s nose and escaped. We left just an hour before dark hoping the lack of sunlight partnered with my hasty disguise would be enough to make me invisible. The highway was clear as I rode in Frank’s bumpy old pickup. It was ancient with worn navy-blue seats and the windows had roll down handles. There were scuffs from hard work and lots of use but like his home it was clean and well kept.

  I sat in silence in the passenger seat, rolling the sleeves up on my borrowed coat. Ellen had given me some of Noah’s clothes since we were close in size and the militia was looking for a girl. Both the t-shirt and coat were a bit baggy on me but combined with a medical mask and baseball hat to cover my hair, I was unrecognizable. A part of my rational brain had periodically kicked in over the past hour trying desperately to talk me out of this terrible idea. Turn around! What are you doing? You’re just going to march into a town and attack a bunch of strangers? But every time logic protested, my cold friend would silence that part of me with a simple thought so pure and true I couldn’t fight back.

  They took them. Your whole family. They’ve taken everything.

  “Frank? Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “The men I killed, the ones who shot my mom and dad, they were part of this militia, right? The one in Bloomfield that took Noah. They were part of the same group that took Mike?”

  His brow furrowed and he nodded slowly. “Yes. They were.”

  “Good. I just wanted to be sure.”

  He cleared his throat. “I would never say that you don’t have cause to hate these people, Sam. But there might be another way out of this without…”

  “Without what?”

  “Without more killing.”

  “No. There isn’t. Besides. They’re the ones that started this. We would have been fine by ourselves in that cabin forever, but they stole that. There was another way, but it’s gone now. They did this. Not me.” I believed every word to my core.

  We made it to Bloomfield without incident and the truck slowed as Frank pulled up to a small blockade manned by two civilians with rifles. One man in a red hunting cap with flaps approached the driver’s side door. He nodded in recognition to Frank and eyed me for a moment as he leaned into the window.

  “Frank, what’re you up to tonight?” He sounded hesitant.

  “Just visiting with Cecil. Ellen made some jams and we wanted to be neighborly.” It was an obvious lie and we all knew it but we were waiting to see if this guy was going to act on it or not.

  “Frank, you know I’m not supposed to let you in again. Not after last time.” The man shifted around clearly uncomfortable and was searching to see who might see him talking to us. “Who is that with you?”

  “Just a family friend. He’s staying with Ellen and me for a time. He’s just a kid.” Frank sounded so casual it made me almost believe him. “José, it’s fine I’m not making trouble. I’m just going to see Cecil for a while then my friend and I are headed back home. Besides, I brought you something. Check the blue bucket in back.”

  José’s eyes darted around again nervously then he walked back to the side of the pickup bed and reached in. I saw a small flash of a reflection as his hand left the bucket and went inside his coat with whatever he’d found. He looked satisfied with what he’d taken and stepped back. He motioned to his partner and they both took an end of the wooden sawhorse to lift it out if the way. He nodded at Frank and we drove on in.

  “Don’t make me regret this, Frank.”

  Frank pulled ahead and nodded as we went by.

  “What did he take?” I asked curious.

  “A bottle of whiskey. The militia has some pretty strict rules on h
ow they hand out valuable trade goods so alcohol has been a little hard to come by in Bloomfield lately. Unless of course you’re one of the people in a uniform.”

  “How did you know he wouldn’t check under the blankets?” We had stashed several guns in a crate under a pile of blankets and sandbags.

  “I didn’t,” he said with a smirk, “but I knew he’d be thirsty. José has had to do some pretty awful things lately. Things I know aren’t sitting right with him. He’s always liked a drink now and then and I’ll bet he’s been hurting for one lately.”

  “You feel sorry for him? Look where he is. He’s with these people who are going around stealing and killing and doing whatever they want. Kidnappers and rapists. That’s who he’s sided with.”

  “Maybe so. But he has a family just like you and me. He has someone he wants to keep alive. This was his home and the militia moved in and took over. He used to be a Carpenter. Owned his own business here for the past ten years. He’s lived here most of his life. Can you really say you’d be doing any differently than he is if you lived in this town?”

  “Yes. Following orders isn’t really one of my strengths.”

  Frank snorted, “No I guess it’s not.”

  We drove slowly through the center of downtown which was quite pretty despite the boarded-up windows on several buildings and all the military blockades. The town, though large in size and population, had maintained a small town, historic atmosphere with cobblestone roads and the 1950’s style storefronts. Wrought iron lampposts were glowing along the sidewalk which meant they still had a power source, compliments of their hostile takeover no doubt.

  “Where do we go now?” I asked anxiously. My cold friend had been silent, but I could feel a slight tingling rising up within. It was preparing.

  “We’re going to my friend Cecil’s, just like I told José we would. In case they’re watching or check in that’s the safest move. Besides, he might have seen your brother being brought in. He sees everything.”