Barren Fields (7 page)

Chapter 6

The Journey Home

Oregon.

Present Day.

Once again I find myself yearning to get home without the certainty that I will arrive safely. Simone and I are riding in an SUV with Isaac, Jeremiah, and two of their men on the way to our ranch. The semi-trucks loaded with supplies were sent ahead of us an hour ago so we could stay back and work out the details of Isaac’s group joining us by the ranch. I also wanted our group to arrive ahead of time so they could prepare a credible defense against this group in case the discussions didn’t continue in a reasonable manner.

I have to admit that, even without the threat Jeremiah poses, my own concerns and prejudices against people of religion are the main problem I had with immediately accepting Isaac’s group into our fold. More than my typical distrust of people in general, I am afraid of what religious people are capable of, because in my mind,
anything
can be justified if you claim to be working for the benefit of a higher power.

Jeremiah’s demeanor is much the same as it had been before the collapse, but his religious fervor has increased and he is still a reactionary hot head. It doesn’t help that I keep being the asshole that pushes his buttons, but in this short interview period, I have to push him to the extreme to see if he will continue to be as dangerous to my family as Isaac said he was. So far, he is begrudgingly accepting the fact that he and his people need us. My biggest concern with him at this point is the loss of his wife and daughter; it makes him a man with nothing left to lose. All he seems to cling to are his beliefs about religion, his ideas about God causing this outbreak, and loyalty to his family. Though I’m not sure how strong his family loyalties are with his attempting to kill his sister earlier.

On our way to the ranch we will be stopping at the house of Ruben and Maria Castellanos, the couple that Simone and I encountered on our bike ride into Grants Pass. Maria had been bitten by Rubens infected parents, and they were both trapped in their fifth wheel trailer waiting for her change and his eventual attack. I told Arthur to stop on the way by to check that they were still alive and to ask them to back their fifth wheel trailer into the road blocking the way once the semi-trucks pass. This was to be the first obstacle to Isaac’s group rushing to the ranch and taking it by force.

As it is though, all of this paranoia of mine and the plans and preparedness were unnecessary. Isaac is the decent fellow I believed, and for all of the trouble Jeremiah is and the grief I gave him about his beliefs, they both agreed to my requirements about moving onto the ranch. Their women and any child capable of properly using a firearm would be trained to use them and required to carry a weapon of their choice for personal and ranch defense. Even having them agree to include their women into all forms of defense planning and possible leadership roles wasn’t the hang-up that I thought it might be from my original impressions.

Apparently the roles of their men and women weren’t religiously ordered or controlled, but their group sort of fell into a general segregation of roles due to people’s personal interests. Most of the women that married into Isaac’s group wanted to be homemakers and care for their children, while having little to no interest in fighting or guns. The few women that did have the aptitude to fight happened to perish during Christmas when their group was attacked by the infected. Only Isaac and Jeremiah’s sister Mariah, the last fighting female of their group, survived that Christmas attack.

Only the six of us will arrive at the hasty road-block, and then travel on to the ranch with whoever decided to stay behind. The rest of Isaac’s group split into two teams when we left the store. One group went back to Isaac’s property to let them know what will be happening and have them start packing things to move. The other group is remaining at the store to keep it secure so the semi-trucks can return and gather more supplies that will help our combined groups survive.

Isaac’s group is sixty-five people, and of those, seventeen are children with eleven below age ten. That is the best news of their joining us. After our ranch was overrun by the infected and eight children died, our group almost collapsed, which would have been the death of all of us. It feels good to know that there will be more children running around among everyone again. The hope that brings makes this trip worth every risk we took in freeing the Stick People from Stockton’s group.

There is an old joke that success is the feeling a man has between the time he accomplishes something and when he tells a woman about it. Looking ahead I’m having the same reaction to my feeling of hope. The happy thoughts of playing children fades as I look through the SUV’s windshield and see three infected in the road ahead of us. They turn quickly at the sound of our approaching vehicle, but they stand their ground and just watch us as the driver pulls to a stop. Them, turning quickly, is the unfortunate act, because this means the three infected are runners.

We are in the town of Rogue River, and there are quite a few infected left here but there were no survivors that we ever found. At least none that showed themselves when we called out offering help while driving through.

“I don’t understand where these things are coming from,” I say to the other occupants of the vehicle. “How are new runners being made if there were no survivors here to infect?”

“Maybe these are people that heard the trucks, followed them, and got infected,” Simone offers.

“You don’t think your trucks had trouble coming through here and lost a few people, do you?” Isaac asks. “Those infected look pretty skinny and could be some of the people you rescued.”

The thought has its merits and is a terrifying proposition to consider, but it doesn’t seem likely. They are skinny, but something about them doesn’t seem right. “Their clothes,” I say and everyone turns to me.

Simone and I are sitting in the second row. One of Isaac’s men is in the back row with him, and another is driving, while Jeremiah is in the front passenger seat. When Jeremiah and the driver turn back to hear what I’m about to say, the three infected up ahead seem to take notice of their inattention and start to advance on us.

One of them starts to run outright at the SUV, and the other two seem content to walk briskly toward us without making the effort to go quickly. With only fifty feet to travel, I think I understand why the other two didn’t run. They think we are trapped and there is no big hurry, especially with one that will stop our escape by running.

Isaac behind me and Simone are the first to point and yell a warning about the advancing infected. By the time we all look out the window, the runner is two strides from the SUV and where I thought it would jump on the hood or bang against the front of the car. It sharply turns to head around the driver’s side. I’m on that side of the vehicle, right behind the driver, and I literally jump back into Simone when I hear the driver’s door handle get pulled up. Thankfully we only hear a clink sound that the handle makes when the door is locked, but the thing outside is angry now and keeps pulling on the handle,
clink
,
clink
,
clink
,
BANG!

Simone screams and Jeremiah yells as the other two runners made it up to the passenger side of the vehicle, while all of our attention was given to the door grabber.

I love automatic car locks on doors. One of the passenger side runners apparently did try a door handle as well, but that sound was drowned out by the other runner who just hit its hands against the glass trying to break its way in. That window hitter is what gave us the shock of the day, and if I didn’t get out to relieve myself a few miles before we made it to this town, I would be sitting in wet pants right now.

The driver finally puts two and two together and hits the gas pedal to drive us farther down the road. I’m glad those runners decided to attack the sides and not climb on top. If we had a climber it could have made it into the open sunroof window.

“Stop the car,” I say when we are far enough down the road that we have time to get out before the runners catch up.

Simone and I step out of our respective doors when the SUV stops and draw our pistols on the approaching infected. Simone drops the closest one with two shots when it is twenty feet from the back of the vehicle. The next two runners are ten feet behind the first. One starts to turn away from us after the first one starts to fall, and it takes me five shots to hit it in the head. The last one just keeps coming, and Simone gets that one right before I hit mine.

I have the feeling that we’re being watched, so I look out into the buildings near us and see a body disappear around a corner when my eyes come up. I yell
Hello!
in the direction I saw someone and start walking that way when Simone grabs my arm.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks me as if I’m a child reaching for the cookie jar.

“I saw someone by the corner of that building. Everyone get out here and stand guard.” I say to the others that haven’t bothered getting out of the vehicle. “I think there is a survivor over there.”

“Eddie, no. There were three runners here. There could be more,” she says still holding onto my arm.

“I know, but if there are any survivors here, they’ll become runners when they get bitten. We have to at least check.”

She looks at me not convinced.

“I know I saw someone, and they ducked behind that building when I looked up. Does that sound like an infected to you, Simone?”

“It sounds like a runner that is capable of setting traps,” she says causing chills to shoot down my spine. “Call a few more times to be sure, but we aren’t going over there. The buildings are too close together, and the infected are too fast for just six of us to survive an attack up close.”

I call out several more times as does Simone. Even Jeremiah calls out a few times with what he thinks are comforting messages of Christian friendship, none of us get a response. Simone is right that moving into that area is too dangerous with all the buildings so close together.

“We’re leaving now, so if you want or need help, now is the time to get it,” I yell one last time with still no response. We all climb back into the SUV and continue on our way to the ranch.

After driving for a short while, Jeremiah turns to Isaac, and says, “I don’t know how safe it’s going to be by their ranch.” And then points out the windshield to another
not so welcoming
view ahead.

Maybe a quarter mile up the road there is a charred and smoking hulk of what was once Ruben Castellanos’ parents’ house. The truck and trailer are backed into the road where they should be, but the house they once stood in front of is gone.

The driver, who I found out at our last stop is named
Luke
, pulls over to the shoulder farthest away from the house, and we all get out with guns at the ready.

“Check the ground for signs of a fight,” I say. “Bullets, bodies, or anything that could point to what happened to the house.”

“Are your people okay?” Isaac asks with a serious tone of concern while eyeing the road-block. “Is this the same way the trucks would have come?”

“Yes, I’m sure they’re fine,” I say and watch Jeremiah walk around the collapsed wreckage of the smoldering house. “The road-block was my idea,” I reply looking at him quickly before scanning the area a bit more and finding no evidence of any problems. When I finally look up, I see he is just staring at me waiting for some type of explanation.

“I’m not a trusting sort of fellow, Isaac,” I say while looking at him. “Just as you weren’t sure who we were when you arrived at the store, I wasn’t sure you could all be trusted when we sent the trucks ahead to the ranch. This road-block was set up to slow you and your group down if you decided to try and take the ranch by force. I always try to plan for the worst.”

“Do you ever hope for the best?” asks Matthew, the other of Isaac’s men with us.

“My wife and I stayed alone with your entire group, and we have five children under age twelve that depend on us. I think you can call that hoping for the best. We bet our lives on you being decent people and accepting our conditions for joining the ranch.”

“But you didn’t risk the people at your ranch or their supplies. You sent them ahead to prepare a defense, didn’t you?” Isaac says while nodding and starting to appreciate a little more who I am.

I give a small smile and shrug to answer his question, and say while looking around, “What I don’t understand is the house being burned down. It looks like it burned down yesterday, or last night, with the amount of things still smoldering.”

“Marco!” Simone yells out but receives no reply, so she key’s her radio, and again says, “Marco.”

“Polo,” is the squelched reply. “What’s your status, Simone?” says a female voice which sounds like Samantha.

“We’re all good here,” Simone replies. “Isaac’s group will be moving to the farm next to us.”

“We’ll be down shortly,” she says, and after minute, a truck drives down the road.

“Hi Samantha, I thought that was you,” Simone says as Samantha steps out of her truck.

Ruben Castellanos steps out of the passenger side, and I wave at him. Everyone either says hello or acknowledges each other with a wave or a head nod.