End Days Super Boxset (199 page)

“To our new guests, I know the first thing on your minds may be home. But this truck is not a taxi service. For the time being, with fuel limitations, we can only use it to transport supplies and new arrivals
to
the camp, not away from it. But fear not, with more manpower here, Camp Liberty will be stronger than ever. We will take the fight to those who oppose us, starting with this treacherous government responsible for trying to enslave us!”

Russell's men cheered and clapped wildly. Sobering up, Mark looked to Janice, then to James with concern.

“That is all, everyone. Those participating tonight know when and where to meet. We'll see you then. I wish everyone the finest evening.” With that, Russell stepped off the podium and walked out of the tent as Kyle followed. The cheering died down, and the men went back to their separate conversations. Danny slowly rose from the floor behind the serving station, more determined than ever to make a stand, and run for it.

“So what the hell was that all about?” Mark asked James flat out.

James put a hand in the air, noticing the concerned looks on everyone's faces. “I admit, Russell is a little eccentric, but who wouldn't be, living out here all this time? I think he's a good man who wants the best for the people here.”

“I don't know,” Mark said. “I think a little cabin fever has rubbed off on you, big guy.”

“Look. They asked me to go along with this supply run. It's something I have to do. It's our opportunity to really see how things are out there.”

“You know how else we can do that?” Mark asked. “We can go out the fuckin' gates and walk to town ourselves.”

“Mark, watch your mouth please,” Christina said. Always the mother, she was on edge about such language in Paula's presence.

“Sorry, Christina,” Mark said.

“It's not that simple, Mark,” James said, getting back to the subject. “Trust me on this. If I'm wrong, we leave this place, just like you suggested.” James looked to Christina. “We're expecting Terrance and the boys here, and we have a responsibility to stay.”

“OK, James. Janice and I will give it another night, but no more weird speeches, please,” Mark said. The group got up and threw their paper plates in a nearby trash bag. The night was coming to an end, but for James it was only the beginning.

***

Danny quietly joined his friends at the table. He was tired-looking and covered in grease stains. Shane, Sally, Jeff, and Jacklyn were all huddled together talking and not taking much notice of him. Jeff said something that made everyone laugh. Danny leaned forward from the other side of the table and cleared his throat to get their attention.

“Oh. Danny,” Jacklyn said, taken by surprise. “Sorry, I didn't see you there.” She looked him over nervously.

“This some kind of joke to you guys?” Danny asked.

Confused, they looked at each other with their brows raised, then looked back to Danny. “What are you talking about?” Shane asked.

“I'm talking about all of
this
,” Danny said. He straightened his back and waved his arms in a sweeping gesture. “This whole entire fucking place. You guys think we're at summer camp or something? Every one of these assholes are armed. And guess what? We're not! If you think they're going to just
let
us leave, you're out of your minds.”

Jeff looked up at Danny and smiled. “That's where you're wrong, Danny. Shane and I are being issued rifles tomorrow.”

“That's right, Dan,” Shane said. “We're a couple of sharpshooters.”

Danny examined each of them carefully. If he didn't know any better, he thought he saw Jacklyn holding Jeff's hand under the table.

“Sorry, hon. I'm no big fan of this place either, but I think you're being a little paranoid,” Jacklyn said.

Danny balled his fist, and breathed in heavily. After a brief moment of silence, he lunged across the table and tackled Jeff to the ground.

Jacklyn and Sally both screamed. Every man in the tent turned their attention toward Danny.

“Danny, stop it!” Jacklyn shouted.

Danny had Jeff pinned down by his arms. He raised his fist and pummeled Jeff in the face, punch after punch. Grunts, shouts, and an endless stream of profanity accompanied every blow as he continued to bloody Jeff's face. Jacklyn and Sally were shouting and trying to pull Danny away. Jeff tried in vain to defend himself and tried to squirm from under the weight of his attacker. Shane joined the girls in trying to pull Danny off, and then three of Russell's men pushed their way through, grabbed Danny, and threw him off Jeff. He flew onto a nearby table and gasped for breath from having the wind knocked out of him. The largest of Russell’s men picked Danny up and locked his hands behind his back.

“Let me go!” Danny yelled as blood streamed from his mouth. They carried Danny out of the tent without saying a word.

Jacklyn fell to the ground in tears. Jeff was groaning and barely conscious. “Oh my God, Jeff, are you all right?” Sally asked. The three friends knelt down next to him trying to comfort him. Eli, who happened to be in the tent, rushed over and handed them a wet towel. Jacklyn, still crying, carefully dabbed Jeff's face with it.

“Jeff...I'm so sorry,” she said.

The scavenger team assembled at midnight outside the camp, where two vehicles were hidden under a large camouflage net. They pulled off the netting to reveal an old bus and an even older military-style cargo truck. The bus had broken down weeks before the EMP. Its problems went beyond circuitry issues. The transmission and radiator were shot and repairs weren't worth the expense. The bus had gotten most of Russell's men to the camp some months ago and had since served its purpose.

Fortunately, the cargo truck was still operational. As result, he would now need to have men guarding the vehicles at all time, based on loyalty and trustworthiness. It was an additional headache for Russell. But at the same time, he was in high spirits. His medication and treatments were working well, and he was feeling better about everything. However, he was running out of medicine and needed to get more by any means necessary.

James waited quietly with the scavenger team. It was a cool and windy night, and he had since lost track of the days, which was uncharacteristic of him. He knew it was early October, Saturday or Sunday. He wondered what his beloved town of Milledgeville had turned into over the past few weeks. He'd soon know and find out if there was any truth to what Russell had said. He tried to look past his doubts and play along, but his gut told him different.

Five men, including Russell and James, stood near the cargo truck, armed and ready to venture into town. Russell was hunched over slightly, attempting to control his coughing. Kyle and Eli, were among the group. The others included Frank, a short muscular man, clean-shaven and completely bald. There was Billy, the talker of the bunch, who liked to shoot and drink. And lastly, there was Quinn, a quiet man the size of an ox. He was over six feet tall, with an impressive and intimidating girth. As big as he was, Quinn was light on his feet, as were all of the men in the scavenger group. They had to be.

The group gathered around the cargo truck. Russell was leaning on its front bumper and then looked over to Eli. “Go ahead and get her ready to start up, would you, Eli?”

“No problem,” Eli said. He walked over to the passenger side of the truck. The door was secured with a chain and padlock. Eli pulled a key from his pocket and yanked open its thick metal door. Leaves and pine needles, which had accumulated over time, fell on his head and shoulder. Eli brushed his black skullcap off and hopped into the truck. Kyle jumped into the driver’s seat. The steering wheel was secured with a lock and chain as well mainly because the ignition, like most military trucks, was not key operated. Kyle turned the big starter switch and pushed down onto the gas pedal. The truck roared to life.

James stood outside with the others, impressed that the truck still ran. He wanted to take the truck right then and there, but no such thing was going to happen. They had a job to do, a simple job to get supplies and return to the camp. At least that's what he was told.

“All right, everyone, a few words before you go,” Russell announced. The men gathered around, armed and dressed in black from head to toe. James was given a similar “covert” uniform in order to fit in with the others, one size too big. He carried his pistol, hoping there would be no circumstances that would make it necessary for him to use it. They each had a flashlight and empty bag to put supplies in. The truck revved loudly beside them, warming up for the journey. Russell did his best to talk over the engine.

“As you can hear, the engine is a beast. This means that you'll be primarily on foot. Take the truck as close to town as you can without being seen, then park it. Kyle is in charge of this mission and knows exactly what we need. If, for any reason, you find yourselves separated, use the individual supply lists you were given.”

James raised his hand.

“Yes, James?” Russell asked.

“I wasn't given a list,” James said.

“Don't worry about it. Stick with Kyle, and he'll tell you exactly what to get.”

Russell turned back to the group. “You men know the drill. You get in there and get out. No fucking around. Lots of people around town have itchy trigger fingers as you know. We don't want a repeat from last time.”

“What happened last time?” James asked, this time without raising his hand.

“Things got a little hairy, but no need to go into it now. Kyle will fill you in on the details,” Russell answered. “So I think everyone has a good idea of what is expected. James, stick close and help where you can. This is a stealth operation, gentlemen. And--”

Suddenly a coughing fit hit Russell hard, and he nearly doubled over with trying to choke out all the mucus build-up in his lungs. The truck idled steadily with a half-tank remaining. It was enough to get them into town and back. Russell's coughing subsided and he rose from his slouched position, trying to gather his train of thought.

“OK, I think you guys get the point,” he said. “Good luck out there, we're all counting on you.”

Quinn and Billy gave each other a high five and walked to the back of the truck. James kept an eye on Billy. Something seemed a little off about him. Before he got into the truck, Billy said, “We’re gonna run them into the ground.” As James stood aside assessing the situation, someone slapped his back, startling him. It was Russell.

“Good luck out there, James, I know you know what you're doing. I'm sure you'll be a tremendous asset. Hell, you might even learn something yourself.” Russell walked off before James could respond.

There were no more instructions or speeches left to make. The mission was in effect. The so-called “purge” was on its way. Frank, Billy, Quinn, and James all rode in the back. Eli gave it some juice, and the engine roared as thick clouds of smoke spewed from an upright exhaust pipe. The headlights flashed on, illuminating the path filled with thick brush ahead. Eli shifted the truck into drive and teased the gas pedal. The truck chugged forward along the rough terrain toward a hidden dirt road.

“Just keep it slow and steady until we reach the main road,” Kyle said as he and Eli bobbed up and down. “Then take us into town.” Kyle stopped and looked around. Tree branches repeatedly scraped against their windshield as they plowed forward through the desolate forest. “It's too late at night for this shit,” he continued.

“You said it,” Eli commented.

“Need to train a new team, give ourselves a break,” Kyle said.

“Couldn't agree more,” Eli said.

“I just hope this whole thing works. We're really sticking our necks out on this one. We're taking a risk,” Kyle said.

“I know,” Eli said, looking forward. “I hope it goes better than last time.”

James tried his best to prevent himself from flying out of the cargo truck throughout their tremendously bumpy ride. Frank, Billy, and Quinn were sitting on the bench next to him clutching tightly onto a cargo strap on the wall next to them. No one said much. They were tired. James, however, wanted to take the opportunity to probe them for information. He knew they were close to Russell, so he chose his words carefully.

“You guys familiar with the area here?” James asked loudly over the truck's engine.

“Sure are,” Billy answered. “And we hear you're no stranger to these parts either.”

“Yeah, I’ve lived here for some time now. Not so much in town, more of a cabin in the woods kind of thing, but I do teach at the University in Milledgeville.”

Billy snapped back with glee. “Well, I'll be damned! Frank, Quinn, we got ourselves a professor in our company!”

“Damn, really?” Frank said. Quinn looked over but remained silent.

“Russell said that you know your way around,” Billy said. “He believes in you. We all do.”

“Well, that's good to hear,” James said.

“You're in good company here, Frank added.

“Frank's right,” Billy said. “Don’t worry, this is your standard run-of-the-mill supply run, you know what I mean? Get the supplies we need and head back to camp.”

“Too easy,” Frank said.

“So how long have you guys been at Camp Liberty?” James asked. It was something he inquired of all of them.

“We been here about three months now,” Billy said.

“And how do you like it so far?” James asked.

“Like?” Billy replied, with a hearty laugh. “I don't think it's a question of
like
. It's what has to be done. Much like tonight.”

“And what about Russell?” James asked.

“What about him?” Billy shot back.

“Who is he?”

Billy went silent for a moment, thinking to himself. He then looked at James and answered. “Russell is a man who knows what's going on. He's a good man and we trust him.”

“But he's also sick as hell,” Frank said. “I mean like physically ill.”

Billy glared at Frank. “Shut up, Frank,” he said.

“No big deal,” James said. “I could kind of figure that out myself.”

“It's not like that, James. He's getting better, and pretty soon we'll be ready,” Billy said.

“Ready for what?” James asked.

“For the next phase,” Billy answered.

James didn't press any further, and Billy offered nothing else. They rode in relative silence as the truck eventually hit the main road, proceeding toward downtown Milledgeville. James, along with everyone else, was relieved to hit smooth pavement. They were no longer being thrown around like rag dolls. The town was roughly ten miles north of them. The truck, nicknamed “Little General,” continued down the darkened road under a black sky. Its passengers were ready to deliver a wake-up call.

Kyle knew they were close to town, almost too close, and he advised Eli to pull to the side of the road and park. From there, they would go on foot.

“Make sure to lock it up,” Kyle said as he stepped out of the truck.

Eli shut off the engine and headlights, not saying a word. It was frustrating for him when Kyle needlessly exerted his authority.

The trip took about twenty-five minutes on account of their deliberate pace through the former rustic terrain. The truck was old and had been manufactured in the 1970s at the close of the Vietnam War. Even at full throttle, its speed didn't exceed 50 MPH. Eli chained up the steering wheel and both side doors while Kyle stretched, looking far up into the sky. Kyle then took a magazine from his tactical vest and stuck it into the magazine well of his rifle.

“Get the rest of them out here. Let's move,” Kyle said to Eli.

Again, Eli said nothing. He strolled to the back of the truck and unlatched its heavy tailgate. Moments after an “all clear,” he opened and released it, sending the metal flap crashing against the cargo bed. The sound echoed around them and then faded into the night air. Billy climbed out of the truck first, with Quinn, Frank, and James following.

“OK guys, keep your spacing and be on the lookout,” Kyle said, leading the way.

The men followed along the side of the empty road into town. They passed a deserted Buick station wagon on the right lane and saw more cars up ahead. It became evident, the closer they got, that they were entering a ghost town.

Downtown Milledgeville was a formerly busy town with plenty of shops, restaurants, and historical buildings that brought a steady stream of tourists. The local university was home to hundreds of transient students who temporarily called the area home. It had been lively city, day or night, despite its rustic appearance in most areas. There were also plenty of hills, which made the journey more challenging overall.

They walked under the cover of darkness, alert for any movements or voices. So far, they hadn’t heard anything. James looked beyond Kyle and saw that they were approaching a fire station. Its doors were closed and the building appeared to be unoccupied, which was strange for any fire department. There were no firemen or fire trucks noticeable anywhere either. James wondered if the local police station had closed its doors as well.

“Have there been any fires around town since the EMP?” James asked from the back of the line. Billy was in front of him.

“Ah hell. Does a bear shit in the woods?” Billy said.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” James said.

Billy laughed and turned his head slightly to address James. “People have been making little fires here and there, you know, to cook food on, but they always get out of control. In fact, I don’t remember a time yet where some dumbass didn’t burn his house down.”

James knew all too well what Billy was talking about. “How many times have you guys done this since the EMPs?”

Billy thought to himself. “Let’s see. We been out here three times in the past two weeks. This will be our fourth time.”

“Supplies that low back at camp?” James asked.

Billy laughed again. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“So where did the fire department go? I mean, they’re not just going to let homes burn, are they?”

“Shit,” Billy said. “What are they going to do without their trucks, pray for rain?”

“So they’re gone?”

“Most of them. Same thing with the police. We told you, James, it’s anarchy out here.”

James felt sick thinking about his students. He hoped that they were safe but had no way of knowing. The knot in his stomach grew tighter as he recalled his mad dash to escape the school. He had put himself first without even warning them. What fate had he left them to? As if sensing his despondency, Billy spoke.