Odd Billy Todd (51 page)

He was fairly confident that their little community was set for the winter. There was plenty of cut wood, although they would need to cut some more now that so many were staying at the Clifton house. Thinking of the Clifton house reminded Billy of why he was sitting cold and miserable in a cedar tree, and he lifted the scope to his eye, scanning the entire wood line carefully.

Nothing.

Lowering the scope, Billy continued working out in his mind things that still needed to be done. They needed a propane tanker. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of that in Columbia. He was sure there was propane there, but it was probably far too dangerous to go back for it. There was propane in Cedar Bend, too, of course. They could get plenty there. But when it was gone, then what?

And what about their heaters? When they broke down, did they have the parts to fix them? He knew they’d managed to get a few propane heaters in Columbia, but they were seasonal items, and it had been summer when the plague hit. Not too many heaters sold in summer, he figured. Still, he knew there were some.

All the houses had either wood stoves, or fireplaces, and some, like his place, had outdoor furnaces that heated the house and provided hot water. The Clifton place had one, too, he remembered. Which reminded him why he was sitting cold and miserable in a cedar tree, and he lifted his scope once more.

He had gotten used to seeing nothing, and so passed over the two men at first, their presence not registering on him. Realizing a second later what he’d seen, he whipped the scope back on target, and dialed in.

Two men. Right in the same old spot.

How dumb can you be? he thought, then decided not to question such a gift. He carefully scoped the rest of the wood line, but could find no sign of any other watchers. Apparently these two were the only ones.

After five minutes of careful observation, he slowly lifted his radio to his mouth, and called Pete.

*****

“I got’em,” Billy’s voice came through the ear plug loud and clear.

Jeez Billy, you just scared the crap outta me! Pete thought, shaking his head.

“I see’em too,” he replied. “Two men, right in the same spot.”

“That’s them, all right,” Billy’s voice came back. “Want to sit on’em and then follow’em, or just ease on up and have a talk with’em right now?” Pete pondered that for a minute.

“Let’s wait,” he decided. “They may not be alone. If they aren’t, they just might lead us back to the rest. What do you think?”

“Sounds good to me,” Billy replied. “I’d as soon get’em all and be done with’em. We got other things need doin’.” Pete shook his head, grinning at Billy’s plain spoken statement.

“Okay. I’ll take first watch, if you want to catch some sleep.”

“Thanks.”

Pete settled in to watch the two stalkers, who were blissfully unaware that they were now the prey.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

“Billy, wake up. They’re moving.”

Billy was awake in an instant. It took him a minute to realize where he was. Finding himself in a tree, cold and miserable, made him panic for a few seconds, until he remembered why he was there.

“Billy, you copy?” Pete’s voice spoke into his ear. “We need to move.”

“I hear ya,” he said softly into the earbud’s microphone. “I’m awake. What’s the plan?”

“Meet me where they were laid up,” Pete ordered. “I’m moving now.”

“Got it,” Billy replied. He moved to get down, and stifled a groan as his muscles protested movement after so long still and idle. He managed to get to the ground without making any noise, and took a few seconds to stretch the soreness out. Then he was moving.

It was almost dawn, he realized. Billy was puzzled by the watcher’s movements. Had they always been watching at night? And if so, why? There wasn’t much to see after dark, especially in winter time. So what would be the point? Something about that nagged at him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it just yet.

He met Pete at the observation post, where his friend was already studying the ground. Billy joined him. He could see tracks and sign for two men. They had left a trail that a kid could follow.

“Awful sloppy work,” Pete murmured. “They’re either amateurs who think they’ve learned something from videos, or they don’t think we’re a threat. I wouldn’t bet a nickel on the difference, either.”

“I don’t see why they bother watchin’ in the night,” Billy voiced his concern to Pete. “Ain’t nothin’ to see in the dark. Ain’t no way they can gather no information in the dark, are they?” Pete pondered that.

“I had thought that too,” he admitted. “Like I said, they may be amateurs. And, we don’t know they’re always watching at night. They may be watching at all different times of the day, getting an idea how many people are around, how the comings and goings work, that kinda thing.”

“Yeah, I’d just wondered,” Billy agreed. “Anyway, let’s get after’em.”

“Slow and easy, Billy,” Pete warned. “If they’re any good at all, then they may leave booby traps along their trail, or have warning lines spread to alert them to followers. We can’t assume they’re stupid.” Billy nodded his understanding, and the two began to move.

The tree line started about twenty yard from a hill behind the Clifton house. The trail went straight up the hill. Pete started to follow when Billy stopped him.

“Easier way,” he mouthed, and motioned for Pete to follow. Billy led them north about fifty yards where a small game trail was carved into the hill. Over the years, use of the trail by both man and beast had left almost step like depressions in the ground, some supported by tree roots. The two men scrambled up the trail quietly, and moved back to pick up the enemy trail.

Billy knew these woods as well as any man could, having used them all his life. Pete took advantage of that as the two moved, allowing Billy to point out easier going that often let them travel faster than simply following. Suddenly, Billy stopped short.

“I think I know where they’re goin’,” he said softly. “If I’m right, I know a better way to get there.”

“If you’re wrong, then we’ll have to come back,” Pete warned.

“Don’t think I am,” Billy shook his head. “There ain’t but one good place to camp out here. If they ain’t got a house somewhere, this is where they’ll be.” Billy’s confidence won Pete over, and he nodded for Billy to lead the way.

Billy moved swiftly over the ground with the assurance that came only with long use and familiarity. The two of them moved quietly for all that they moved fast, and Pete had to admit that Billy’s way was far easier than the trail the two watchers were taking.

That probably meant that they weren’t dealing with anyone local. But only probably, he cautioned himself. There was no room here for assumptions. Or mistakes.

Suddenly Billy stopped short, raising his hand. Pete watched as Billy cocked his head slightly, then grinned. He turned to Pete, making a shush motion with his finger to his lips, and then motioning again for Pete to follow.

The two of them moved at a much slower pace now, almost creeping. Suddenly they were on the lip of a small hollow, looking down at a clearing near a spring fed stream. Even as Pete watched, two men came into camp, and sat by the fire, both helping themselves from the pot still hanging over the fire.

Others were stirring now, and Pete counted them without thinking. He stopped at nine. Seven men and two women. The women weren’t captives, this time, judging by their actions, and the fact that they were both armed. Pete was determined not to make that mistake again.

A large man with a shaved head emerged from one of the tents and walked to the fire.

“Well?” he demanded of the two that had just returned.

“Still nothing,” one of them replied between mouth fulls of what appeared to be stew. “One of the trucks was moved today, the little one. The U-Haul. All the others are still there. Every now and then, someone comes and takes stuff out.”

“Probably enough food and supplies to last us the rest of the winter, at least,” another man remarked. The apparent leader nodded absently.

“How many people?” he demanded. The man who had replied to the first question consulted a small notebook.

“We’ve counted seven different men, and four different women in the last week,” he replied. “At least two of the women are living in the house, but rarely venture outside. The rest are living in other houses, but we haven’t been able to determine which ones. We do know that two houses down the road are occupied, and at least two men and one of the women live there.”

“So they’re spread out,” the leader mused out loud. The speaker nodded.

“I say we hit’em, take what we want, and move on,” the man across the fire spoke again.

“And I say it’s a nice place to spend the winter,” the man with the notebook shot back. “Food, water, power, plenty of firewood. Women. Even moving vehicles with gas enough to run around on. And horses aplenty, too.”

“Could be if we asked, they’d just help us,” one of the women spoke up.

“Why ask, when we can just take?” the surly one snorted. “I say we take it all.”

“And I say I make the decisions around here,” the leader told him flatly. “Anytime you don’t like that, you’re free to leave.”

“I figure I done seen enough,” Billy whispered, moving his rifle into firing position. Pete’s hand stopped him.

“Patience, amigo,” he whispered back. “They aren’t a threat at the moment. And now we know where they live. We can get information just listening to them.” Billy frowned.

He clearly didn’t like the idea, but with a deep sigh he relaxed. Pete stifled a sigh of his own as Billy stood down. Then he went back to watching.

“We already lost two people when the blizzard hit,” the surly man who wanted to ‘take’ noted. “There’s no sense in waitin’ around until we lose more. They’ve got what we need, at least to get through the winter. I say we take’em now, and then we’re set for the winter.”

“So long as we stay, I agree,” ‘notebook’ nodded. “I’m tired o’ livin’ in the woods, or abandoned houses, and scrapin’ by. This is a good set-up. We get rid of them, and we take over ourselves. Live comfortable.”

“We have to keep moving,” Leader said firmly. “We can lay up a little while, but we got work to do. You all know that.”

“We can’t get work done in bitter weather,” Notebook objected. “They got to understand that. All of us ain’t sittin’ comfortable somewhere for the winter. We need a place to rest up.”

The leader watched his men, and women, debate their ideas for a few minutes. Finally he held up a hand.

“That’s enough!” he said forcefully, and all talk came to a halt.

“We take’em,” he announced. “We do it now. Today. Everyone get their gear and. . . .”

“Time to make this go away,” Pete whispered raising his rifle. “I’ll take the leader, and Surly. You take the two watchers. After that, targets of opportunity. On three?” Billy nodded, sighting his rifle.

“One. . .two. . .three!”

The two rifles cracked as one, and Leader and Notebook fell. Before anyone could react, both fired again, Surly and the other watcher hitting the ground. After that, things got interesting.

One man jumped to his feet, sending rifle rounds wildly into the woods. A single round from Pete’s rifle stopped him.

The two women were shrieking loudly, and one drew her pistol, looking around wildly as she screamed in rage. The other one tried to grab a shotgun leaning against a log nearby. Billy didn’t hesitate, cutting her down. Pete hesitated no more than a second before shooting the woman with the handgun. She had been the one arguing for the group to just ask for help.

Tough.

The two remaining men managed to get behind a pair of downed trees. These two had figured out which direction the shots were coming from, and started to fire back. Their shots weren’t near Billy or Pete, but they were working their way down.

Billy took the left one, watching carefully until he had the shot he wanted. The man raised his head every time he took a shot, then ducked back quickly. But he got into a rhythm, and he didn’t change his position. Billy waited patiently, and on the fifth shot, fired once. The round took the man in the forehead.

Pete’s target was more careful, but Pete was just as patient as Billy was. This man was changing his position after every two shots. His mistake was doing that after every two shots. The shooter still wasn’t certain where his attackers were, and should have remained hidden and silent, waiting for a shot. Instead, he was sending rounds into the woods at random, and hoping for luck.

His luck ran out.

Pete had let the man shoot and scoot three times. Satisfied that his target was locked into his two shots and move pattern, Pete waited for the first shot from his new position. When it came, Pete simply sighted in on the spot, and waited.

Sure enough, the man exposed himself again to take the second shot before moving. Pete was already squeezing the trigger when his target appeared, and a single rifle shot put him down forever.

The two men waited for ten minutes, perfectly still, watching the campsite. After ten minutes of no movement, they began to cautiously make their way down the hill, and into the camp.