Human Extinction Level Loss (Book 3): Liberation (6 page)

Could it be? Real or not real…

He opened his eyes and spun the wheel, racing back the way he had come. As he came upon the woman and child, he could see her look back. This time, her scream faintly reached his ears as she tried to outrun his advance and make it back to the tree line. Jacob turned in front of them in the road and brought the Jeep to a screeching halt. He pulled his pistol and pointed it at them. The woman and her child, both gasping for air, were clearly spent. The three of them eyed each other nervously, engaged in a standoff in the middle of the road.

“Please, help us,” the woman said. Jacob blinked and cut his eyes between her and her child.

He did not lower his gun or his gaze. He watched their stare break from his, a low moaning sound coming to them on the breeze. Jacob saw the woman plead with her eyes and he withdrew his pistol.

“If you are real, get in. Hurry,” he said.

Jacob saw confusion cross the woman’s face, but it was not enough to stop her. She ran to the Jeep and flung the door open. Shoving her child in first, she climbed in after him. Beverly closed the door just as Jacob peeled away, heading West down the highway in a cloud of smoke.

Eight

In the back seat, Beverly sat holding Tommy close to her. She split her gaze between the rugged terrain outside her window and the stranger behind the wheel. Metal bars separated the front seat from the back and there were no handles on the doors. The only people that usually rode in the back of police cars were prisoners, but Beverly tried not to think of their situation in those terms. Their “rescuer” had not spoken or acknowledged them in any way since telling them to get in, which struck her as strange. She replayed the event in her mind, his words echoing in her head and not adding to her comfort level.

“
If you are real, get in. Hurry”

If you’re real? What kind of person says a thing like that, she thought to herself.

“A crazy psycho who has lost all touch with reality out in the Deadlands, that’s who,”
her mind told her.

She pushed those thoughts aside. If she was going to be locked in the back of a vehicle heading who knew where, she preferred to think of it as still her choice for as long as she could. They were away from the Dead and heading West which is where she wanted to go. She told herself again that there was nothing to worry about. Her attempts at rationalizing her predicament were only moderately successful.

As the minutes and the miles ticked away, Beverly decided that formal introductions were in order. She figured that maybe if names were exchanged it would be at least one step removed from a killer-victim scenario.

“My name is Beverly. This is my son, Tommy. We are going to Colorado. You know… because of the broadcasts,” she said.

Out of habit, she almost introduced her husband, Mark. The reality of his loss came rushing back to her and she bit down hard. She fought back tears, not wanting to show a weakness that might give him indication that she was any kind of soft target. She stared at the back of Jacob’s head and waited for some response. None was offered.

Beverly tried not to let the cold reception eat away at her doubt. The uncomfortable silence was broken by Tommy.

“You’re a Sheriff? My Dad is a Policeman. He had to fight some zombies so we could get away, but he’s going to catch up to us when he’s done.”

This time, Beverly could not hold back the tears. She turned away and stared out the window, not wanting Tommy or the stranger to see her vulnerability. Not any more successful at getting a response than his mother, Tommy gazed out the window.

Silence again filled the vehicle. Jacob cut his eyes to Beverly and Tommy in the rear view mirror for several seconds, before staring back down the road in front of him.

It was dark by the time Jacob got to his next vantage point. He always got there well ahead of the horde and this time was no different, even with the delays. The dark didn’t matter. He had made the circuit following the horde long enough to know the lay of the land. He negotiated the uneven terrain, parking deep in the woods before getting out. The horde would not arrive at the vantage point until late the next morning, which gave him time to eat and grab some sleep.

In the back seat, Beverly and Tommy watched him move around to the back of the Jeep and open the tailgate. The rear interior light of the Jeep cast a yellow glow as Jacob stuck his head in, unlocked a footlocker and began to rummage around through his gear. He did not acknowledge them as he grabbed a can of stew, a single burner propane stove and a pot. Jacob fired up the little stove and a blue flame jumped to life. No sooner had he opened his can of stew than the flame died.

“Damn,” he said as he disconnected the small green propane tank. He knew as soon as he picked it up that it was empty.

“Stupid, Miller. Rookie move,” he said as he searched in vain for another tank amongst his supplies. Giving up, he grabbed the can of stew and dumped it into the pot. He grabbed a spoon and sat down on the tailgate. With his back to Beverly and Tommy, he ate his stew cold.

Beverly stared at the back of Jacob’s head and watched him eat.

“Hey, what about us? Did you rescue us back there just to starve us?” Beverly said, fatigue and frustration getting the better of her fear of the unknown.

Jacob gave no response.

Beverly could feel her anger rising. She was about to blast this stranger, who seemed more captor then rescuer, with a verbal assault when she thought better of it. Hearing him talk to himself, she tried a different tact.

“Sheriff, please help us,” she said.

At her words, Jacob stopped chewing and turned his head slightly in their direction. Losing his appetite, he tossed the half eaten can of stew to the ground and stood. He closed the footlocker and locked it. Beverly was about to say something else, when Jacob turned and grabbed a pillow, then slammed the tailgate shut and closed the window. From the back seat, she watched him go around and climb into the front seat. Without ceremony, Jacob tossed the pillow to the passenger side of the bench style seat and lay down.

Beverly let out an incredulous sigh. Clinging to her side, Tommy whimpered.

“I’m hungry.”

Beverly turned and held her son.

“I know, baby,” she said.

She looked to the back of the Jeep but there was nothing to be had. Climbing over the seat, she opened the tailgate and window. The rear interior light cast its glow and barely illuminated the ground around the vehicle. Scanning the ground, Beverly found the half eaten can of stew. She considered grabbing her son and making a run for it. Thoughts of stumbling around in the pitch black of the forest and of what she might run into, alive or undead, sealed the deal for her. She climbed back into the Jeep and pulled the tailgate and window closed. The dome light blinked out, a pale moon the only light. Beverly plopped down in the seat next to Tommy and handed him the can of stew. A chunky residue was all that remained.

“Here, baby. I know it’s nasty, but eat a little of this until we can get something better, okay?” she said.

Next to her in the dark, she could hear Tommy scoop out what was left of the cold stew with his fingers and begin to eat.

“You’re a real trooper, Tommy, a good boy,” Beverly said, rubbing his back.

Looking forward to the front seat, Beverly could again feel the anger rising in her.

“Asshole,” she said.

In the front seat, Jacob’s eyes opened at the epithet. His brow furrowed in mild confusion. He knew the others were only a delusion. He knew that when they turned and pleaded with him it was not really happening, but this was different, his delusion had never called him an asshole before. He pondered this as he drifted off to sleep. In the backseat, Beverly and Tommy gave in to their fatigue and tried to make themselves comfortable for the night.

Nine

Sheer exhaustion outweighed their uncomfortable surroundings and empty stomachs. Beverly and Tommy slept soundly against each other on the back seat. Around them the forest was quiet, save for the chirping of the early birds. Morning sun cut through the trees, the motes of light creating a picture of serenity. As the light played across Beverly’s face, she felt its warmth and it radiated throughout her body. She stretched and let out a contented moan, feeling her son next to her. She opened her eyes and watched a bird flit on a branch above her outside the window.

A second passed and then realization hit her. Beverly bolted upright in the seat and looked around. No longer appreciating the serenity, she looked through the bars to the front seat. There was nobody there. She looked out the windows on all sides, but only dappled sunlight and trees met her gaze. She noticed the back window was open. She was debating her next move, when she heard a rifle’s report in the distance. Like a runner hearing the starter pistol, Beverly climbed over the back seat and threw herself out the rear window. She ran around to the front driverside and pulled open the door.

“Where would a crazy son of a bitch hide a spare set of keys?” she asked herself as she checked the visors and under the seats.

Behind her, in the back seat, Tommy came awake. He rubbed his eyes and saw his mother in the front seat. Leaning forward, he pressed his face against the bars.

“What are you doing, mom?” Tommy asked, still half asleep.

Beverly looked back at her son, then continued to search for the keys.

“We’re getting the hell out of here, that’s what,” she said.

Tommy rubbed his eyes and sat back in the seat.

“I have to pee,” Tommy said.

Beverly didn’t answer as she leaped for the glove compartment. She flung open the door and rifled through stacks of wrinkled papers. Not finding the keys, Beverly slumped defeated in the driver’s seat.

“Did you hear me, mom? I said I have to pee,” Tommy said.

Still not paying attention, Beverly looked at Tommy in the rear view mirror.

“Hey Tommy, your dad was always showing you stuff about his job. Did he ever show you how to hot-wire a car?” Beverly asked.

Tommy stared sleepily out his window.

“Hot wiring a car isn’t part of Dad’s job. Why would he ever show me that?” Tommy said.

Beverly chewed her lip.

“Besides, why do you need to hot-wire the car? The keys are in the ignition,” Tommy said nonchalantly.

Beverly looked down in surprise at the steering column. Sitting in the ignition were the keys.

“Of course. Why would he take them. He doesn’t think we are real,” she said with a sneer. “Hold on, Tommy. We’re getting out of here.”

“But I have to pee!” Tommy said as the engine sprang to life. He was thrown forward into the front seat as Beverly put the Jeep in reverse and hit the gas.

“We’ll find a rest stop later, Tommy! Now, Buckle up!” she yelled. Pointing the Jeep the way they came in, Beverly began the rough, meandering journey back to where she thought the highway was.

On a rocky overlook, Jacob drew a line through a name in his ledger. He was about to look back through his scope when he heard a familiar noise. Casting his head back to the woods, he heard the sound begin to dissipate. It was a sound he recognized. Somebody was stealing his Jeep. Jacob jumped up and ran into the woods.

Beverly bounced over fallen branches and half hidden rocks as she steered through the trees. She emerged onto a relatively clear stretch and her confidence soared. It ebbed away as she heard the engine cut off. She gripped the wheel and looked down at the RPM indicator on the dash. It confirmed what she already knew. The needle was buried below the zero. She reached down and tried to start the Jeep, to no avail.

“Um, Mom,” Tommy said,

Beverly looked back at Tommy then forward at what he was pointing at. Standing in the forest in front of them was the Sheriff. In his hand he held the cutoff switch. For the second time that morning, Beverly slumped defeated in her seat. She began to panic when she saw him approach the driverside and fling it open.

Beverly tried to back away and fight him off at the same time, but he was too strong and too quick. He reached in and grabbed her left wrist and dragged her from the vehicle. Pulling her along after him, he opened the back driverside passenger door and flung her in. Inside, Tommy tried to get out of the way as his mother fell over him. Once inside, Jacob slammed the door behind her. He went around to the back and reached for a couple of cable tie restraints. Beverly saw what he was going for and tried to fight him over the back seat. Jacob jumped in and held her right wrist tight. He flinched at the barrage of slaps and punches Beverly threw at him as she struggled. Next to her, Tommy screamed and threw punches of his own.

“Don’t hurt my mom, you asshole!” he shouted.

Seconds later, Jacob backed away from her as she let out a tortured angry scream. She lunged at him, but did not make it far, her right hand held securely to the bars by the tightly pulled cable tie.

Seeing his mom’s arm secured, Tommy lunged at the bars and tried to free her. His efforts were interrupted by Jacob’s harsh interjection.