Deadlocked 5 (23 page)

"Harrison, you really need to go find a bed and try not to drown in your own puke."

"Think about it." He stayed seated beside the bridge. "You're looking for some guy, Jared something."

"Jerald Scott."

"Right, Jared Scott, you're looking for him and when you find him." He shrugged. "Who gives a shit?"

"I do, and his name is Jerald, not Jared."

"Are you going to kill him? I don't give a fuck. Who cares? You're going to kill him and then what? What difference does it make?" His lips were wet with the few strands of spittle that didn't fling out of his mouth when he spoke.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then tell me!" He screamed at me and his voice echoed through the calm night. "Tell me why I should give a shit."

"Scott's one of the people responsible for the apocalypse."

Harrison processed that for a minute, leaving the crickets to respond until he gathered his thoughts. "You said that before. He's one of the guys that started this all. So what? So you want revenge? You're going to kill him?"

"That's the plan."

He nodded and sighed as he looked at me. "Revenge is the Devil's best trick. He can make it feel so right."

"Give me a break. You can't possibly tell me that the people who caused the apocalypse don't deserve to die."

"They do, no doubt about that. The Devil's not after them though, they'll show up at his door eventually. The Devil's after you." He pointed a bony finger at me.

"It's a good thing I don't believe in him."

"He doesn't care if you do or not. He's setting you up for a fall, kid."

"As long as I can take a couple bastards down with me." I smiled at Harrison and put my hand on the barrel of the sniper rifle.

"I guess it makes sense."

"What does?" I asked.

"Makes sense why you refuse to make friends." He motioned back towards the bank where the party was still going on. "You don't want to have something to lose. I'll take it for granted that you lost more than your fair share already. I thought for sure when you saw Annie you would've talked to her about how you saved her. But when she came in, you just stared at her for a while and never went to introduce yourself."

"She was too young back then to remember anything. What would be the point of bringing it up? It's better to forget those days. If she remembers me at all, she's better off thinking of me as her guardian angel."

Harrison smirked up at me. "You don't want to steal her shooting stars?"

I stared back at him for a few seconds before I started to laugh. Harrison had managed to turn my mood around, and his deft manipulation of our conversation to get us to this moment, where he was able to express his point from earlier by using my own experiences to make it, was impressive. "You old fucker," I said in the most endearing tone I could. "You got me. I get it. I'm sorry about telling you the shooting stars were satellites."

"Don't worry, I've already forgiven you."

"You're an interesting guy, Harrison. When are you going to tell me your story? How did you end up out here? And why does everyone keep telling me you're an insufferable
prick?"

"What do you want to hear?" he asked. "Want to hear about how I was homeless before the apocalypse and never even opened a Bible before the world ended? Or do you want to hear how I killed a man in Texas because he raped a woman in front of a crowd of cheering folks. Or I could tell you about the time I was hung in Oklahoma, but the rope snapped and I fell into a river and swam away. Want me to tell you about how I saved a group of handicapped kids and hid them away in a water tower a few miles away?"

"Just stick to the true stories." I moved my chair so that I was facing Harrison and then settled back down, eager to hear his tale. He was grimacing and looking past me, over my shoulder. "What? Are you going to try and pretend like you see something strange out there so that you don't have to tell me? You can't fool me, old man. You're blind as a bat."

He stood up while continuing to stare past me. It became apparent that he wasn't trying to fool me, and I turned to look out into the dark night.

"Do you see that?"

I did. There were headlights in the distance.

I scrambled out of the chair and picked up the sniper rifle to use the powerful scope on it to see the lights. They were far off, but there were a lot of them. "Headlights," I stated matter-of-factly.

"Who would be driving around this late? Those lights are going to attract any zombie around here."

"It's a caravan. Looks like maybe ten semis." I lowered the sniper rifle and looked back at Harrison. "Do you think it's the same caravan that dropped off the poisoned food?"

"You said there were ten of them? All trucks?"

I lifted the heavy rifle again to use the scope. Unfortunately, my gear was back at the party, along with my binoculars. "Yeah, looks like it. Ten, maybe twelve trucks."

"That's not how the caravan drives. Usually it's just a truck or two with a car in front and one behind. This is something different. This is bad. I'm going to go tell the others."

"Okay. Do me a favor and grab my gear on your way back." I extended the rifle's bipod and set the spiked feet on the edge of the roof. Then I positioned myself so that I could watch the caravan driving across the highway toward the town. The highway was about a mile away and was positioned on a raised strip of land that made it easily visible from this vantage.

I was familiar with how trade caravans normally traveled, and Harrison was right that this didn't look normal. Traders severely conserved diesel, and their trucks were packed with items tight enough that it was usually hard to walk around on the inside of their trailers. They always traveled with armed guards that drove in front and behind to protect the cargo from raiders. Kim had bragged about how the High Rollers cleared much of this area of raiders, but no caravan hauling twelve semis worth of goods would dare travel without a bevy of guards.

This had to be the caravan that Jerald Scott was traveling with. The possibility that I was on the verge of executing one of my targets caused adrenaline to pump through my veins. My heart quickened and my mouth became dry as I watched the caravan come closer. "Come on, you mother fucker. I've been waiting a long time to meet you." If they moved past, and continued down the highway away from Vineyard, I was prepared to go downstairs and take the car with the F2000s in it. I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass me by. I just hoped that Harrison made it back with my gear in time.

The semis reached the turnoff that led into town and slowed. The row of trucks moved onto the main street that led to us, and it was clear they were headed here. I was momentarily excited at the prospect of Scott coming to me, but then my stomach sank as I realized what this could mean.

When we arrived in town, we immediately sought out Bonnie and Beach to warn them about the poisoned food. Beach told us that the traders had arrived here, and were turned away. Vineyard prided itself on being self-sustained, and only traded when completely necessary. They weren't in need of trade, and even refused an offer of free food. The town had been preparing for the anniversary celebration for weeks, and there would be enough food to last for a long time even after the feast.

If the traders knew that, then what possible reason could there be for them to return so quickly, and with more trucks?

The caravan split up in a seemingly choreographed dispersion. As they came closer, the trucks at the rear would move off, one by one, to a different part of the town.

Harrison returned with Ollie and Hero as I watched the trucks invade the desolate town. "See," said Harrison. "They're all over the place."

"Ollie," said Hero. "Go tell the others to get inside."

"Damn it, Harrison," I said. "You forgot to bring my gear."

"Sorry, sorry," said the old man as he stared off at the caravan. "I'll get it in a minute."

I looked at Hero and asked, "Do you know what's going on?"

Hero nodded, although he looked more frightened than confident. "I think I might. We ran into one of those trucks out at DIA. They were filled with Poppers."

"So, if they couldn't poison the people here, they're just going to kill them." I peered through the scope again to watch the caravan as it came closer. "That seems like a lot of trouble. Why not just show up with guns blazing?"

"I don't know," said Hero. "Maybe they want to siege us."

"Why would they want to do this?" asked Harrison. "What do they care if a few towns manage to survive out here?"

I continued to peer through the sniper scope as I spoke. "You're talking about the same people that caused a worldwide apocalypse."

Hero was carrying an F2000 rifle, similar to the ones in the car in the nearby lot, and started to check the mag
azine and chamber just like a true survivor should. "They look at us as ants. They like to show up and stir up the nest, hoping they can kill the queen." He paused and then shook his head with an embarrassed chuckle.

"What's funny?" asked Harrison.

"Nothing man, I was just about to say a badass action hero line, but then I realized it made me sound gay."

I looked up from the scope with a smirk. "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing man, forget it."

"You have to tell us now," said Harrison. "Come on. We won't tell anyone."

Hero begrudgingly explained, "I was saying that they like to kill the queen, and then I was going to say, 'This queen's not going out without a fight,' and then slap the mag back into my rifle. It woulda been pretty badass."

Harrison and I laughed, but quickly focused back on the caravan. "How much food and water do we have up here?" I asked.

"Plenty of food," said Hero. "And enough wine to last a long time. If they're planning on a siege, we'll be able to hold up for a long while. We can live through a Popper outbreak, for sure."

"What about guns and ammo?" The only weapon I'd brought with me was my Glock. The rest of our guns were in the trunk of the car.

"Not sure," said Hero. "I'm normally with the Rollers, not here."

"What's going on?" Beach hustled across the bridge. She was a tall, thick woman with short white hair and icy blue eyes. She hiked up her skirt as she walked, and looked annoyed by the flowing material.

"The traders are back," said Harrison. "But we think they're bringing Poppers with them."

"What?" she asked in shock.

"I saw a truck like that loaded up with Poppers earlier," said Hero. "We're not sure, but I'd damn well bet they're not showing up with twelve trucks filled with toilet paper."

Beach gasped and asked to look through the sniper scope. I moved aside and she got down on her knees so she could see. "I should've listened to you, Ben." She put her hand on my leg as I knelt beside her. "You tried to warn us, and I didn’t listen. We should've canceled the anniversary after what happened to Juniper and Hanger."

"It's okay, Beach," I said. "What's the point in staying alive if you don't celebrate from time to time?"

Harrison looked at me as if I'd suddenly turned into a braying goat. I nodded back at him and he smiled in appreciation of my change of attitude.

"We need to get our guards to their posts," said Beach. "We've got rifles in the stock room, but we could always use more." She looked up at Hero and said, "You Rollers usually come strapped, what've you got?"

"Just what's up here already," said Hero. "We were on the move, so we're not loaded up."

She nodded as she pushed her way back up again. She was an older woman, in her mid to late sixties, and it showed as she winced while standing. "If they've just got Poppers, then we should be okay. We'll just have to tell the boys to keep the muzzles cool until we know what's going on."

"I've got guns," I said. "We found a carful of F2000s in Juniper, just like yours." I pointed at Hero's gun. "And there're a few boxes of ammo too."

"Awesome," said Hero. "Let's go grab that and get back up here before they unload those fuckers."

Beach looked hesitant for a second, but then nodded and said, "Okay, but you two need to hurry up. I need you here, alive. Understood?"

"Sure thing, beautiful." Hero swooped Beach up in his arm and kissed her on the forehead. She slapped him on the chest playfully and laughed as she wished us luck. Hero saluted her as he lifted the hatch and said, "Tell the pretty girls not to worry, they've got a Hero on their side."

Harrison groaned at Hero's joke and then put his hand on my shoulder as I prepared to go down the rope ladder. He had Stubs in his other arm as he squeezed my shoulder. "Hey, Ben, don't go getting yourself killed."

"No promises," I said with a smile. "Now go get my gear like I asked you to. And keep an eye on Stubs."

Hero and I swiftly moved through the building with the help of the modular flashlight at the end of his rifle. The car was parked on the surface floor of an underground parking garage a few blocks away from the entrance to Vineyard. Bonnie and Beach insisted that visitors park far from the entrance to make it harder for raiders to find their way in.