End Days Super Boxset (193 page)

“Are they expecting an attack by engines?” Mark asked.

“Mark, stop it,” Janice said.

Paula leaned against Christina as her mother wrapped an arm around her, holding her tightly.

“We're finally here?” Paula asked, looking up.

“It looks that way, sweetheart,” Christina said.

James silently observed the place from his concealed position behind a tree, looking for any movement or activity. He could see a closed entrance comprised of two large plywood doors with some sort of locking mechanism in the middle. Everyone took a moment to catch their breaths and stretch. They had come a long way, and now it was time to find out if the trip had been worth it. James turned to address the apprehensive faces standing before him.

“Mark and I will walk up to the gate and greet them. We'll leave our packs here but remain armed, just so they know that we'll defend ourselves if necessary.” He pointed to Janice, Christina, and Paula. “You three stay here while we have a word with them.”

“Place looks deserted,” Mark said, scanning the perimeter.

“The walls are pretty high,” James said. “It puts them at an immediate advantage.”

“Good luck, guys,” Janice said, hoping to speed the process up. She wanted to have a shower and sleep in a bed above all, even if the people inside
were
creeps.

James looked at Mark while hoisting the sling of his rifle over his shoulder. “You ready?”

Mark held up James's shotgun. It was locked and loaded. “I'm ready.”

“All right. Let’s go,” James said. The two men walked off toward the camp. After a few steps, James turned to address Christina. “We won't take long, so keep your eyes open.”

She gave a thumbs-up and lay on the ground in a prone position with James's hunting rifle aimed right at the gate.

Mark and James approached the looming entrance with caution. The plywood door on the left had a small lookout slot. James expected little resistance. If the people who ran the camp didn't want visitors, he didn't think they would have broadcast their message repeatedly over the existing airwaves.

They were inches from the door when James looked to Mark. “You good?” he asked.

“Yeah, I'm good.”

James took a step back and knocked on the door with force. He instantly felt a pain shoot up in into his wrist. There was no response at the door. Mark scanned the front gate and noticed a long rope to his right swaying in the air. The rope was connected to a bell at the top of the gate. “Look,” he said, pointing upward.

James stopped himself from striking the door again. “Well, I'll be damned. Go ahead and pull it.”

Mark tugged on the rope and the bell sounded. He pulled it again just to be sure. The spy slot on the door slid open moments later. James could see a pair of eyes, stern and commanding, watching them.

“Who are you?” a man's voice said.

“Hi,” James said. He was taken slightly by surprise. “I'm James.” He gestured to Mark. “This is my friend, Mark. We heard your radio message. That is, if we're at the right place. Is this the survival camp?”

The eyes darted to the right. James could hear whispering. The man's eyes shifted back to them. “How many are with you?” he asked.

“We have a small group. There's only five of us.”

“How many males? How many females?” the voice asked.

Marked rolled his eyes. “Some warm welcome,” he muttered.

“We have two males and three females. But before I say any more, I want to know if we're safe here. I'm personally responsible for the wellbeing of my group,” James said.

The eyes shifted to the right again. James heard more whispering. Then the eyes were back on him.

“You're safe here, my friend. Grab the rest of your crew. You may enter.”

The slot slid closed, followed by an unlocking sound. The two doors slowly opened inward, revealing a spacious area with several cabins and some military-looking tents. James and Mark stood cautiously back from the doors as they opened fully. Two bearded men, one more heavyset than the other, stood at the doors to greet them. They were both dressed in camouflage and holding semi-automatic weapons.

“Welcome to Camp Liberty,” the heavyset guard said with a gleaming smile.

“Where's the rest of your group?” the heavyset guard asked.

Mark looked at James for guidance. The two guards stared at them, keeping both hands on their rifles. They wore bulletproof vests over their shirts and seemed to take their job seriously. James gripped his fully-loaded AR-15 carbine in a show of defiance.

“The rest of our group is at a safe distance from here. My friend, Mark, and I are scouting the place out, which I'm sure you can understand.”

The slimmer guard gripped his rifle tightly, mimicking James.

“And I'm sure
you'd
understand that anyone wishing to enter Camp Liberty must follow our guidelines,” the slim guard said.

“I'm sorry, we didn't get your names,” Mark said, interjecting.

“I'm Rick, this here’s Pete,” the guard.

“What kind of guidelines are we talking about here?” James said.

Rick continued. “Biggest priority is safety. Safety for our people, and safety for those who wish to join us. First guideline is that new personnel must relinquish their weapons until they are deemed a nonthreat. Secondly, new personnel must in-process, together all at once, so that we get specific numbers.”

“In-process?” James asked.

“
Camp Liberty
?” Mark added. “The radio message said Survival Camp.”

“Changed the name,” Pete said.

“Well, I'm sorry. We've traveled a long way to get here, and all these rules are a little off-putting,” James said. “Like I said, these are
my
people, and I'm responsible for them. I was under the impression that this was a prepper camp. Somewhere we could get answers and assistance.”

“Yeah, I mean your radio broadcast
did
make those claims,” Mark said.

“Guidelines are guidelines,” Pete said in a monotone. The guards were not being very helpful despite their initial welcome.

“We're just not comfortable giving you our weapons or bringing the rest of our group in here before we've had the chance to scope it out fully,” James said.

The two guards looked at each other, conflicted.

“Can we ask you some stuff about this place first?” Mark asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” Rick said, though Pete seemed flustered and annoyed.

“How many people do you have here?”

“We cannot divulge our strength to outsiders,” Rick answered.

“Strength?” Mark asked.

“Their numbers,” James said. He then turned to the guards. “Look, I was in the Marines. I understand protocol, but we're not giving our weapons to anyone. If we can't work something out, then I guess we'll keep moving.” He hoped they wouldn't call his bluff.

The guards looked at each other for answers. Pete turned to James. “We're going to have to check with the man in charge first,” he said.

“Nonsense!” a voice called out from the darkness.

Startled, the guards turned around and looked behind them. James recognized the voice and squinted to make out the figure, or figures, walking toward them, as did Mark.

Russell and his trusted lieutenant, Kyle, emerged from the shadows, further piquing James's curiosity. The guards cleared a path for them. As the men approached, James and Mark didn't know what to think. Russell, the man on their left, was tall and skinny with long, stringy black hair. He walked slightly hunched over with an arch in his back. He had thick stubble on his face and an American flag bandana wrapped around his head. “No one gets turned away from Camp Liberty!” he boasted.

Kyle, the other man to his side, was stocky with thick arms. They wore identical camouflage, similar to the guards, but were unarmed.

“Step aside and let them enter,” Russell said, causing the guards to reluctantly step out of the way. James and Mark remained alert and cautious.

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Russell. I'm the owner and proprietor of Camp Liberty,” the stringy-haired stranger said to them, extending his hand.

“Name's James,” James said, shaking his hand. Mark introduced himself as well.

“This is Kyle, my number two,” Russell continued.

Kyle shook both men's hands, offering a friendly nod. “Nice to meet you,” he said.

“You've met Rick and Pete. They don't mean any harm. Nothing wrong with following the rules here. You and your friends are more than welcome to be our guests if you like.”

“This is your camp?” James asked.

Russell stopped, looked around, and took a deep breath of fresh air. “Yes sir. Hard to believe we built all of this only a few months ago. Mind if I ask how you came about our humble little camp?”

“We heard the broadcast on the radio,” James said. “Figured you were fellow preppers, like us.”

“That's wonderful!” Russell said with a slight cough. “That's exactly what we are, preppers like you. You might even recognize my voice.”

“You’re the guy on the radio?” Mark asked. “I mean you're the one who delivered those messages?”

“Sure am,” Russell said.

***

From the distance, the rest of the James’s prepper group waited patiently behind the concealment of trees. Janice tapped her foot nervously as Paula gripped the redwood tightly, clutching bark underneath her fingers. Christina lay still on the ground with her rifle carefully aimed. She could see everything through James's night vision scope affixed to the rifle.

“What's going on?” Janice asked. “Who are they talking to?”

“Four men,” Christina said. “I can see James and Mark. They're talking to four men dressed in camouflage. They haven't gone inside the camp yet.”

Janice sighed. “Guess it's going to be a long night.”

Christina continued to peer through the optical scope. She had never used the rifle, but she was confident that no one was going to escape her aim.

***

“We can never be too careful out here,” Russell said. “For that reason, we ask for visitors to turn in their weapons upon entry into the camp. Now, your people are your people, and it's none of our business. I don't care if it's three others, or a hundred. We want you to be comfortable. Why don't you tell me a little about yourselves to put us all at ease,” Russell said.

“Well...” James began. Suddenly, Russell hunched over to his ankles and erupted into a giant coughing fit.

“I...” James continued.

Russell was in the throes of hacking his guts out when Kyle placed a hand on his back and then looked to James and Mark. “Russell has been a little sick this week, he's OK. Just a little bug that's been going around.”

Rick and Pete looked at each other with raised brows. Russell lifted his head up, revealing swollen, teary eyes. It sounded like a serious cough to anyone within earshot. Russell caught his breath and spoke in a strained and weary voice. “I'm OK, I'm OK,” he said. “And don't get the wrong idea, this is a sanitary camp. I've just been under the weather the past couple of days.”

“Fair enough,” James said. “I'll tell you a little about us if you can tell us a little about yourselves.”

“Agreed,” Russell said, rising back up as if nothing had happened.

“We have a bug-out house about ten miles south of here. It wasn't a big camp like this place, but it was spacious enough for me and my friends. I've lived in there for the past five years. I'm a teacher, you see. A professor at the Georgia College, downtown Milledgeville. We met up after the EMP attack a couple weeks ago. We heard your radio broadcast and were intrigued. So we traveled here hoping to meet some people like us.” It wasn't the whole story, but James thought it was good enough.

“You've made a wise decision,” Russell said. “You seem to be very knowledgeable individuals.”

“We don’t have all the answers but we do have skills. We figured we could offer them in exchange for food and lodging,” James said.

Russell methodically scratched his chin. “Interesting,” he said.

“So if we could check out the place first, we'd be happy to get the rest of our crew. You seem like good people, but I promised everyone that I'd make sure,” James said.

“Certainly,” Russell said. “So you're from Milledgeville?” he asked.

“Sort of,” James said.

“And how about you?” Russell asked, pointing to Mark.

“I'm from Savannah.”

“Excellent. Savannah. Well, we're happy to have you guys here. Please, allow us to give you a tour,” Russell said.

Mark took a step forward as James put his arm out to stop him. “Wait one minute, please,” James said. Everyone stopped, including Mark, and gave James a curious look. He continued. “A little background on yourselves, please.”

Russell smiled. “Yes, of course. But why not kill two birds with one stone? I'll show you around the place and tell you anything you want to know,” he said.

James thought to himself. He turned around to look at the redwood tree concealing the rest of his group.

“We'll even let you keep your weapons,” Russell said. Kyle then gave him a knowing glare of disapproval. “Relax,” Russell whispered.

James looked to Mark, who nodded back. “OK, Russell. Sounds good.” He saw no reason to keep the others waiting, so he waved his arms in the air, signaling them forward. Russell had gained some of his trust. There had been some initial awkwardness, but he still felt good about Camp Liberty. “Let me round up the rest of my group,” he said.