End Days Super Boxset (187 page)

“Where’s James?” Mark asked from the living room. “We can’t find him anywhere.”

Christina looked around in confusion. She had her hands full enough as it was. “I don’t know. Did you check his room?” she asked.

“Of course we did,” Mark said.

“Take it easy, Mark. We need to remain calm,” Janice said. Heavy bags rested under her eyes, and her dark hair stuck out everywhere.

“There was an explosion out there. The entire backyard is engulfed in flames. It’s spreading to the house, so we need to go.” Mark stopped and then turned to Janice. “You guys go out the front. I’ll look for James in the backyard.”

“No, Mark, don’t,” Janice said.

“Just do it! Now go,” Mark said.

Christina stepped forward and took Janice’s hand. “Come on, Janice, come with us. We need to get out of here.”

Janice reluctantly went with Christina and Paula as Mark ran out the back door. Once outside, he could see the raging fire in all its clarity. James was lying on the ground by the steps next to the door. The roof of the bug-out house went ablaze, growing stronger by the minute.

“James!” Mark shouted, trying to wake him up. His face was blistered and covered in soot. There was no waking him up. A few feet over from Mark was the body of another man, rendered unrecognizable by the hole in his head. It wasn’t anyone in their group, so Mark focused intently on who they
did
know. He lifted James over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and ran to the front of the house. He felt exhausted only after a few steps. James weighed a lot. Once in relative safety, Mark collapsed, and James rolled to the ground.

“Are you OK?” Janice asked, running to him.

Mark gasped for breath. “Yeah...I think I made it just in time. It’s an inferno back there.”

Christina grabbed Paula’s hand and walked away from the house toward the dirt road.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Janice asked, pleading. “Is there any way we can put the fire out?”

Mark looked up at the house. “Call the fire department?” he answered.

The fire on the roof spread to the lower regions of the house. It soon consumed the entire house. All they could do was watch.

Janice stood still and watched the house erupt and collapse, slowly and gradually. She stood in shock, clutching both her bag and Mark’s.

“Come on,” Mark said, taking her arm gently. “The fire could spread.” They walked past James, who was still unconscious on the ground. There was no way to make any sense of what had happened. It could have been one bad dream, but the stark reality of it told them otherwise. Mark knelt down, lifted James up, and brought him to his feet.

“Come on, man. I can’t carry you much further,” he said.

James grunted, regaining consciousness.

“One foot in front of the other, just like me,” Mark said. Mark placed James’s arm was around his shoulder, and then walked slowly for James to keep up. Janice walked ahead, trying to catch up with Christina and Paula. They reached the beginning of the dirt road into town as the house continued to burn.

***

The next morning, the group awoke a mile from the burn site, confused, scared, hungry, and without answers. Christina had held Paula all night. Mark and Janice slept on the ground in each other’s arms, using their packs as pillows. James lay flat on his back, near a looming oak tree. He had just begun to grow conscious. Even with the sun rising and the awareness that they were deep in the forest and no longer in their beds, there was a suspicion that it had all been a dream, though they weren’t so lucky.

Mark was the first to get up, and he gently pushed Janice off him. He felt parched, had a slight headache, and was itchy from the mosquitoes and bugs on the ground. He had never wanted a shower and a glass of water more. He stood up and looked at Janice sleeping soundly. Christina lay on the dirt and leaves with Paula in her arms. Birds chirped in the distance as though nothing were out of the ordinary. But what did the birds know? Mark walked over to James, knelt down, and tried to nudge him awake.

“James. James, you need to wake up,” he said.

James groaned, and his eyes flickered open. “What is it?” he asked in a barely audible voice.

“Come back to the house with me,” Mark said. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah,” James said.

Mark lifted him up, causing James to cough violently. Mark then patted him on the back. “Let’s move, before they wake up,” Mark said.

They walked the dirt road back to the bug-out house, and after a labored twenty minutes, they came upon the front yard. James fell to his knees once he saw what little was left of the house. What remained was nothing but a pile of burnt wood. The perimeter had been reduced to gray ash. There was nothing left of their vehicles, the storage shed, the chicken coop, the house, the basement, or anything else. The overwhelming scent in the air of smoke was nauseating. Their sanctuary from the real world was no more. It was nonexistent.

“What happened?” James asked in near delirium. Mark could see that he was still in the grip of shock and bewilderment.

“That’s what I was going to ask you,” Mark said. “There was an explosion. It woke all of us up. By the time we regrouped in the living room, the fire had spread to the house. What were you doing outside? What did you see?”

“I don’t remember,” James said.

Mark couldn’t take it anymore. He charged James and pushed him against the nearest pine tree.

“We trusted you with our lives,” Mark said with spittle flowing from his mouth. “You saw something, or did something, and destroyed everything. What the fuck happened?”

James was speechless. He struggled to get his thoughts together.

“Answer me!” Mark shouted.

James raised one hand in the air, pleading. “Let me think for a minute. I’ll tell you what I know.”

Mark released his grip and stood quietly waiting. “Let’s hear it,” he said.

“We had visitors last night,” James said. “I caught them by our vehicles where my bear trap got one of ‘em. I heard the shouts. I went outside to stop them, and then they attacked me. It was the group from before.”

“The Milledgeville folks?” Mark asked.

“Yeah, the group we helped. Only two of them though.” James put his palm to his forehead. He had a splitting headache. “They wanted something. I think they were trying to steal our vehicles. It's all hazy.”

“Why is it hazy?” Mark asked. “I need answers, James. We could have all been killed.”

James became teary eyed. “I’m trying, Mark. I really am.”

“Who started the fire?” Mark asked.

“I don't know,” James said, holding his head.

“No,” Mark said. “That's not good enough. We lost everything in that house.”

James thought good and hard, and then responded. “I had that Kerosene lamp with me. One of them got a hold of it, threw it at me, but hit his friend instead. Friend steals my gun, shoots the other one, and then goes barreling into the fuel shed. That's how the fire started.”

“Impossible. There's no way that little lamp could cause a fire that size. There's nothing left James! We have nothing! And these two thugs, where are they now?”

“One took a bullet to the head, the other one burned alive,” James said, in a stoic tone. “They’re both dead.”

Mark went silent. He remembered seeing the body of one of the men before carrying James. It seemed as though James’s story mostly added up.

“Thank you for getting me out of there. Looks like you just may have saved my life,” James said. Mark didn’t have to say a thing. James knew he had been carried to safety.

Mark got close to James's face, and spoke calmly. “If that's what happened, that's what happened. I still don’t get how the fire could spread like that.”

“It was a windy night,” James said. “Other than that, I don’t know.”

They looked over to the two crushed cars, their only hope left. One large branch had fallen on them along with several other branches. They had been badly dented in and rusted through from the fire.

“We can always try to start them. Might just get lucky,” James said.

Mark put his face in his hands in defeat, and took a deep breath. “I think our luck’s run out,” he said.

“We’re still alive,” James said. “That ought to be worth something.”

Mark looked away, disregarding James. “We have to think about what we’re going to tell the others,” he said. “We need a plausible story. If it doesn't add up, they’ll start to lose faith in our pact. We have to stick together. We have to trust one another. Our very survival depends on it.”

James thought to himself for a moment. “We simply tell them the truth.” He looked at the remains of the bug-out house and felt a sense of shame, but he also felt justification. “I was only trying to protect the house, and our vehicles,” he said.

Mark threw his hands in the air and paced around in wonderment. “So what now, James? What do we do now?”

James went quiet and stared ahead. Mark felt infuriated, but didn't see much to gain from lashing out at James any further.

“We go to the survival camp. It’s only a few miles from here.”

“How many miles?” Mark asked with suspicion.

“I’ve got their coordinates written down in my notebook,” James said while fishing into his pocket. He pulled out a small notebook and flipped through it. “I’ve got a compass and a map. I carry it with me at all times. I can get us there. We’ll find refuge with them for the time being.”

“What about Terrance? What are they supposed to do when they come back?” Mark asked.

“We leave him a note,” James said. “He can meet us there.”

Mark took another deep breath then spoke. “If we’re going to do this, we have to be on the same page. You went outside because you heard something. Two of those men came back to rob us. You don’t know how the car exploded or how the fire started, but it just happened. If Christina or Janice aren't convinced, our pact is weakened. Now seeing as we have no vehicles right anymore, our options are limited. Show us the way to the survival camp.”

James nodded and wiped the tears from his eyes. He couldn’t remember for sure if he had been responsible, but he knew that he was drunk, and that undoubtedly made him question everything. The more he thought about it, the more he came to realize that no one had shot at him. He could still hear the voice of the man who made demands from behind the car. It seemed real enough, but he just didn’t know for sure.

“Whatever you say, Mark,” James said. “I’ll make sure that we get there safely.”

The concept of the safety they had grown to know was now fleeting and fragile. They had no weapons, no food, no water, and only the packs they took with them in haste.

“Come on, let’s check to see if there’s anything we can salvage,” Mark said, leading James toward the shadow of their former safe house.

By the time they made it back to the group, everyone had awoken, dazed as they were. They had set up camp about a mile from their former house.

“We wondered where you guys went,” Janice said, tying her hair back in a bun.

“Is there anything left of it?” Christina asked.

“No,” Mark said in a disappointed tone. “Nothing.”

“So what happened?” Janice asked.

James stepped forward before Mark could say a word. “A group of men snuck in and tried to steal our vehicles. When I went outside to confront them, they attacked me. One of them started the fire in retaliation, and things just sort of spiraled out of control. I am sorry. I'm sorry for all of this.”

The group went silent in their disbelief. Christina and Paula stood together. Terrance’s presence was sorely missed.

“Paula and I will camp by the house and wait for Terrance, Tobias, and Richie to return,” Christina said.

“We left them a note, telling them where we’re going,” Mark said.

“Where’s that?” Janice asked.

“There's a camp not too far from here,” James answered.

The group went silent again. Janice stepped forward. “You mean that broadcast over the radio? The place they claim as some kind of sanctuary?”

“It’s our only chance in the short run,” Mark said. “James has the coordinates. We go there for a couple of days, get some supplies, and then get ourselves together. We have to keep moving. James said that they know things. More than we do.”

“And you believe them why?” Janice asked.

“Because it’s the only option we have,” Mark said, growing angry. James did his best to stand aside and let Mark do most of the talking.

“What happened to the men who attacked you? Are they still out there?” Christina asked James.

James stepped forward. “They’re dead.”

Christina was taken aback, but didn't want to outright ask James how they died. She assumed he had killed them. “Who were they?” she asked.

“The men from before,” James said. “They came back.”

Christina put a hand to her mouth, and gasped. “Oh my God.”

“Christina,” James said. “Mark is right, we have to keep moving. These people at the survival camp, they're good people. They’re heavily fortified. They have supplies. They’re preppers, just like us.”