Books of the Dead (Book 3): Dead Man's Land (35 page)

I felt the tension of one less responsibility lift from my shoulders and, even though it was the slightest bit of relief, when the fate of the world rested on you, every little bit helps.

Brother Ed edged up beside me and asked, “What’s your plan?  When are we leaving?”

I wished I had a grand plan.  Everything in the last few hours had been completely governed by reaction and survival.  I knew we had to go north, but what lay ahead was uncertain.  The only thing I truly knew was that there was a good chance we wouldn’t make it alive.

It was then that we heard the beating of the helicopter blades in the distance.  Kara rushed up to beside me.

“We need to get everyone out of sight,” I said and started for the door.  Kara and Brother Ed followed.  Jason went over to the door that the Madison and the others had just left through and slammed it shut.  I cracked one of the large barn doors, but the house blocked any view into the valley. 

Kara must have read my mind and said, “We could try the loft.”

“Let’s go,” I said.

Of the remaining adults in the barn, Mr. Schultz was the only one to remain down with the trucks as getting to the loft meant climbing a rickety wooden ladder.  Ladder climbing was a thing of the past for him and he knew it. It held as all four of us as we climbed upward, but I had my doubts a couple of times as the wood creaked loudly under my weight. 

The view from the loft was decidedly better.  We could see out into the valley in three directions.  To the east and south were farm fields.  Most were covered in either tall grass or weeds.  To the north were woods, but cutting alongside them, far off in the distance, was an old country road winding like a gray ribbon through the trees.  It wound along and sometimes was swallowed up by the trees, but, for the most part, we had a clear sightline into it.  

The noise of the helicopter blades beat away in the distance, but sounded like it was getting closer.  We watched and waited as I felt an anxious ache start to churn in my stomach.

After about ten minutes, as the helicopter volume increased, Kara said, “There,” as she point to the east.

There was a dark blip on the horizon, floating gently above the trees.  It gradually grew bigger along with the sound of the helicopter blades.  A second blip appeared similar to the first. 

“Do we have any binoculars or anything?”  I asked.

Kara and Jason shrugged, so we watched some more. 

My worst fears became reality when we saw a row of vehicles on the road below the helicopters.  It looked like several trucks, but from our remote perspective, it was hard to make them out.

“Oh no,” Kara said, putting a hand to her mouth.

“Do you think it’s our people?” Brother Ed asked.

“It’s gotta be,” I said.  “What other caravan would they be escorting back this way?”

Hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be our people, it seemed like we were all holding our breaths.  We continued watching as they weaved in and out of the forest, dropping in and out of view for the next few minutes.  They reached a wide open expanse where the forest had been cleared and it was then that we were absolutely sure it was our escape convoy.  The helicopters covered over the convoy menacingly, like birds of prey.  I’m certain had any of the trucks tried to make a break for it, they would have been shredded by the choppers’ big guns.

“Who knows where you are?” I asked Kara.

“No one, but they might guess,” she replied.

“We need to move then,” I said.  “We’ll leave as soon as it gets dark.

We spent the next few hours prepping the truck and getting a limited amount of supplies on board while we watched the skies for the helicopters to return.  Fortunately, they didn’t.

I made sure I grabbed the satellite phone we secreted away there a few months earlier.  I only hoped Aaron would be able to check the phone at the time we agreed on.  We left most of the food and a couple weapons with Mr. Schultz.  He said he had been in the Korean War and could handle himself.  I doubted he had had fired a gun since the ‘50s, but there was little choice.  The Benton sisters had been life-long pacifists and wouldn’t even touch a gun.

We’d have to pick up food on the road wherever we could along the way.  That was nothing new.  We had survived day-by-day in the city in that fashion.

The minutes ticked by slowly as we waited for the nightfall.  The sun dropped ponderously slow and seemed to hang on to the horizon line as if the night were a lurking enemy.  Maybe it was?  The last long line of pinkish-orange dissolved away in a final blink and we knew it was time to go.

Leaving was killing me on the inside.  It was bad enough that I was leaving three geriatrics and Madison to their own devices, but I was leaving everyone back at The Manor to whatever the soldiers wanted to do with them.  My heart kept hoping that the troops would move on once they discovered Jason wasn’t there.  My head said something entirely different and it wasn’t a pretty picture. 

I kept asking myself whether Greg would have left, but he wasn’t around and he certainly never received any text messages from God telling him what to do.  What we had to do was clear.  Doing it was the hard part.

I gathered our group together in the barn and we talked through several potential plans for the ones remaining, such as what to do if zombies showed up or if the soldiers returned.  It was all moot, really.  They’d do what they had to do in whatever way they could.

This discussion could have gone on for hours, but I knew we were just putting off the inevitable.  Mercifully, Jason put an end to it when he held out a piece of paper saying that we needed to leave.  Kara gathered the entire group on a circle and we prayed for traveling mercies and for God’s protection over the people we had to leave behind. 

We were about to break our little huddle when the walkie-talkie in Kara’s pocket squawked to life and a voice came through loud and clear.  Kara quickly retrieved the walkie-talkie and held it out so that we could all listen.

“This is Colonel Blake Kilgore of the United States Air Force.  If you’re listening, then we would like for you to return to your complex.  We offer you the safety and security of the United States military.”

“Bullshit,” I said.

There was silence for several seconds, then he spoke again.  “There is nothing to fear.  Please return back to the complex.  We are in search of a young man named Jason Carter and we know he is among your group.  He is critically important to the safety of all humanity.  If you let us have him, we will go on our way and no one needs to get hurt.”

That was laying your cards on the table.  Yes, indeed.  Some might say he was being subtle, but there was nothing subtle about it.  He would do what he had to do to get his hands on Jason.  What he didn’t know was that I would do whatever I had to do to prevent that.

The question was, what should I say?  Or should we say anything at all?  Saying nothing left the door open and maybe they would come searching for us and find the old farm house.  Or maybe they would start hurting the people left behind to wring any information out of them.  Responding at all let them know we were still out there.  There were no clear upsides.

On impulse, I snatched the walkie-talkie from Kara’s hand and bought it to my mouth.  “We have Jason Carter.  He is with us.”

“Who is this?” Kilgore responded.

“It doesn’t matter who I am.  We are taking Jason Carter with us and heading south.  There is no profit in harming any of the people with you.  We will not bring him back.  This is our last time we will speak with you and we will not respond to any further communication.”

I dropped the walkie-talkie on the floor, brought my boot up, and smashed it down onto the walkie-talkie, shattering into tiny pieces.

“Why did you do that?” Brother Ed asked, his expression aghast.

“Because they would only use it to extort us to come back by harming people at The Manor.  We’re not going back and we don’t need to listen to anything they do.  I only hope I bought us some time by sending them south.  There’s no more time to talk, so let’s go.”

I walked to the truck, opened the driver’s door, and got in.  I could feel a terrible nervous energy coiled inside me, ready to spring.  What that outcome would be, I had no idea, but I was about action and momentum right then.  I only hoped they were going to play along. 

It took all of them some time to overcome their shock, but Jason climbed into the truck and Kara followed with Naveen a few moments later.  Brother Ed took the longest to get over my actions, but he climbed into the back of the truck and shut the door. 

There was nothing left to be said.  I started the truck up and Mr. Schultz opened the big barn door, displaying a view onto a dark and brooding sky filled with slate gray storm clouds.  A bolt of lightning flashed, searing its path into my eyes. 

“That’s a good omen,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, but no one in the truck picked up on my feeble attempt at humor. 

“Killjoys,” I said as I put the car into gear and slowly pulled forward, leaving the lights off on purpose, hoping not to stick out in the darkness. 

As we passed by Mr. Schultz, he said, “Godspeed, son.  Godspeed.”

We slipped off into the dark.   God only knew what was in store for us. 

We weren’t out of the door more than five minutes before the skies opened up like the flood that sent Noah’s ark afloat, the raining pounding down hard on the truck.  We hit the bottom of the hill, came to an intersection, and headed north.

Like Dead Man’s Land?  Look for the first two books in the series, Sanctuary From The Dead, and Lord Of The Dead.  Find these and other great titles at J. Ellington Ashton Press

www.jellingtonashton.com