Generation Dead (Book 3): Beyond The Gates (8 page)

Chapter 18

We went back to our rooms and put our gear on.  I slipped my sword into place and made sure I had two loaded magazines for my Glock 17.  I’d played with other guns, and this one just seemed to shoot the best for me.  I hadn’t been a very good shot before, but with dad coming home, I’d gotten better.  His instruction was simple,  “Shoot better; your life and that of your wife depends on it.”

My knife went into its sheath, and my tomahawk went into its custom sheath as well. That was a simple formed leather pouch that slipped onto my belt, and the ‘hawk fit in from above.  If I grabbed it palm back, it came right up and out.  If I grabbed it palm forward, I could just lift slightly and swing, driving the spike into whatever needed another hole.

Another knife rode my belt in the back, and the nylon straps that held my sword in place had small pouches with lethal goodies in them. I was ready to meet anything, from a zombie horde to the second coming of Jake. 

Out in the hall, I met with my brother.  The girls decided to stay behind and play with the maps and figure out where we were going once we settled things.  Jake was dressed in his usual black with his customary knives riding horizontal at his hips.  He wore his gun as well, but it rode on his thigh as it would have interfered with his knives. His pick was on his back, along with a long knife Uncle Duncan had given his son-in-law as a wedding present.  It was sixteen inches of razor steel with a handle long enough to use two hands.  I’d seen Jake use that knife once on a zombie, and it fell to the ground in four pieces before it knew it was dead.

“Ready?” Jake asked.

“As ready as I can be for something like this,” I replied.

“I hear you.  I feel like we’re in one of those old western movies dad likes to watch,”  Jake said as we headed down the stairs and out into the street.

I nodded in agreement as we met the sheriff halfway across the street.  His appraising lawman’s eyes swept over us quickly and he smiled, more to himself than at us.

“Something funny?” Jake asked as we fell in alongside Sheriff Frost.

“No.  I just got reminded of a couple men I knew from a long time ago. You both look like one of them, and you,” Frost stuck a finger at me, “you’re about the size of the other one.”

Jake and I didn’t reply as we walked across the street.  People who were out at that time of night watched us walk by, and I could feel the eyes on my back.  We were strangers, and we were dressed for war.  Chances were pretty good they were going to guess correctly that things were going to happen in our vicinity, and soon.

We walked up to a place called The Palamino, and the lights and sounds coming from the place gave us the impression that things were moving along pretty well.  Out on the street I could hear the sounds of a piano being slowly strangled, mixed in with laughter, cursing, glass clinking, and shouting.  Just the place I would have avoided if I had the choice.

Jake took a look at the building and glanced at Frost. 

“What’s your plan?” he asked, loosening the knives in their sheaths on his hips. I checked the chamber on my Glock and adjusted my tomahawk.

Frost shrugged his shoulders.  “I figure to come around the back, and take him by surprise if needs be; avengin’ your deaths if I have to.”

“We’ll count to ten then head in.  That good enough?” I asked.

“See you.” The sheriff slipped between two buildings and made his way through the darkness to the back of the building. 

“Let’s get this done,” Jake said, stepping towards the door.

“Right behind you.”

We pushed into the room and several of the patrons glanced our way.  No one approached us, and no one seemed to mind what we were up to.  Chances were good they had seen several travelers over the years and were used to people wearing weapons.  As I looked around, I saw most of the men wearing a gun of some make, although the clear favorite was a single action revolver. There were tables for drinking and tables for gambling.  A bar ran the entire length of the back of the building, and three bartenders barely kept pace with the request for drinks from patrons and waitresses.  A small man was banging the keys of the piano, and several men tried to sing along with varying degrees of success.  Several women circulated around the room, and during the short time I watched, two took smiling men up a side stair to the second floor.

Jake made his way to the bar and waved at one of the bartenders.  A tall man with massive forearms looked down at Jake. 

“Need something, sir?” The bartender had a surprisingly high voice for such a big man.  His hair was held back in a ponytail, and his eyes were tired and red from the smoke in the room.

“I’ll have a beer and an introduction,”  Jake said.  “My friend will have the same.”

The bartender raised an eyebrow.  “Who do you want to meet?” He waved a hand around.  “Any of the girls will gladly talk to you.”

“I want to talk to Jake Talon,” my brother said.

The change in the bartender’s face was subtle, but very real. 

“Friends of his?” he asked slowly.

“Family friends. Heard he was here,” Jake said.

The bartender pointed to a table with a stiff finger. “Over there, playing cards.  Big guy with the black hair and tan coat.  Can’t miss him.”

“Thanks.” Jake took his beer and handed me mine.  I drank it sparingly, wondering what Jake was up to.

I didn’t have long to wait.  Jake wandered over to the table and stood across from the man pointed out to us.

“Jake Talon!  Well, I’ll be damned! I never thought I’d ever see the day!  How the hell are you?” My brother stood there with his hands on his hips, and a big smile on his face.

The room suddenly got very quiet, and I eased my way over to the left of the room, keeping an eye on the unreal Jake.

The fake Jake took a look at the real one and squinted his eyes.  He had a hard face that was cruel and cautious, with a straight nose and dark eyes.  His shoulders were broad, and the hand that held the cards was thick.  He looked like he could do a lot of damage if he wanted to.

“Not sure I remember you,” Fake Jake said, looking over my brother’s gear.  “Where did we meet again?”  He dropped his hand to his lap, and I knew he was setting his hand closer to his gun, should things turn ugly.

“Oh, come on!” Jake said. “Outside of Chicago?  You and your brother had just finished some collecting in the city.” Jake smiled and nodded his head as if enjoying the memory.

Fake Jake looked around and saw all eyes on him.  “That’s right, Chicago.  My brother and I had just gotten out of the city ahead of a bunch of zombies.  Good thing, too.  They were right on our tails.”

“Exactly.  I picked you two up in the boat, took you back to the capital.  What was your brother’s name again?” Jake asked.

Fake Jake took a long look at Jake, and I could almost see him thinking about what he ought to do.  If he called Jake a liar, he’d have a fight.  If he played it out, maybe Jake would leave, and things would go back to normal. 

“Arthur. His name was Arthur. Good to see you.” Fake Jake figured that would end the conversation.

Jake wasn’t going to let it go.  “Arthur! Of course!” Jake looked over at me and gave me a half grin. I was going to hear about that one, I was sure. “But you talk about him as if he was not here anymore.  Is he gone?”

Fake Jake looked up with a pained look, and I had to give him credit for the act, it was pretty good. 

“He bought it outside Omaha.  Some drifter gone zombie crazy shot him by mistake,” Fake Jake said. There were soft murmurs of sympathy, that sort of thing really happened every once in a while.

“I do apologize,” Jake said.  “I’ll leave you to your game.  Perhaps I could buy you a drink later, catch up on old times?” Jake leaned over the table with about as sincere a face as I had seen.

Fake Jake smiled. “Sure enough.  Can’t remember your name, sorry.”

“Oh, my manners!  Of course!  Sorry!” Jake stepped back and folded his arms across his abdomen. “I’m Jake Talon.  The
real
one,” Jake said.

There was a collective intake of breath as the room took in that information.  There were looks between the two men, and I could see the imposter sizing up my brother.  His hand was likely on his gun now, and I shifted my grip on my tomahawk.  I figured I’d have to throw it underhand, not having time for anything else, but it would be enough of a distraction for Jake to get into action.

A touch at my wrist made me look down. An elderly gentleman looked up at me and shook his head.  “Between them, son.  Keep it fair.” The eyes that held mine were steely, and I knew I had to leave Jake to his own self.  I hated it, but we weren’t near home anymore, and this town had its own rules.

Fake Jake slowly stood up, confidence washing over him as he looked my brother over.  Jake’s hands were away from his gun, and the man easily outweighed my brother by fifty pounds.  If I had to guess, the man was weighing his odds and liking them very much.

“The real Jake, huh?  That’s funny.  What if I was to call you a liar?” Fake Jake said.

Jake smiled.  “Then
you’d
be lying, you worthless bastard. I don’t know why you picked my name, but you’re done with it now.” Jake’s smile didn’t reach his face, and I knew what was going to happen, fuming that I was helpless to do anything about it.

Fake Jake smiled back. “Well, then…”

Whatever he was going to say didn’t matter, because he pulled his gun in a swift motion from its holster.  A shot rang out, and there was a scream and a roar of pain.

I didn’t see what happened, but the imposter was grabbing his gun arm, clutching at the handle of the knife that had suddenly sprouted from his elbow. His gun hand was useless, having fired a shot reflexively into the floor.  I don’t know who had screamed, but the roar was from the man Jake had stuck a knife into. 

The man was game, though.  He dropped to his knee and reached for his gun with his other hand.  Jake pulled his gun from its holster and shot the gun away from the man’s grasping hand. Dad had instructed Jake on gun skill as well.

“You’re done,” Jake said.  “Try anything further, and I’ll kill you where you stand. 
I
am Jake Talon.  My brother is Aaron Talon, and he’s standing over there, ready to help or avenge me.  Between the two of us, you’re lucky you didn’t face him.  He’d have just killed you.”

With all eyes on me I just looked the phony in the eye and nodded slowly, taking my hand off my ‘hawk.

The sheriff came through the back and brought a deputy with him.  The two of them hauled the fake to his feet and started the man to the door.  Jake stopped them with a gesture and yanked his knife out of the man’s arm, eliciting a fresh roar of pain. 

I met Jake across the room, and there were a lot of nods and smiles of appreciation.  As we left, the room started up its noise again, but I was willing to bet that we’d be the topic of conversation for a while.

Back at the hotel room, Kayla and Julia were waiting for us.  There were several maps all over the room, and the one on the table had a destination circled and a route planned. 

“How did it go?” Kayla asked.  She gave Jake a quick once over to check for damage, and finding none, her worry fell away.  She still had vivid memories of Jake being too wounded to move after his capture at the hands of Ben.

Jake grinned.  “Easier than I thought, although I’ll give him this, he was fast.”

Julia looked at me. “Was?  Did you two kill him?”

I shook my head.  “Jake stuck a knife in his arm, kept him from shooting us. Seems like you two were busy here,” I said, changing the subject and getting out of my gear.

Julia smiled.  “We were!  We found out where the coordinates lead to, and we planned a route to get there as quickly as the roads will let us.”

I scanned the map.  The circled area had a name.  “Enterprise, Oregon,” I said.  “Okay, that seems far.”

Kayla nodded.  “It’s about 800 miles through the mountains, on the other side of the Gates.”

Jake and I looked at each other.  We were going to cross the barrier our father had put in place to keep the rest of the country safe from potentially millions of zombies, travel deep into that territory to figure out why the hell people kept leaving a certain place, then get out alive again.

“What the hell,” I said.  “It’s what we do.”

Chapter 19

It took the following morning and some of the afternoon to get to the Gates.  We bypassed the town of Riverton, and in the early evening found ourselves staring at one of the gates left behind by our fathers so many years ago. 

We were standing on Route 26, just outside the Wind River Reservation.  A gravel pile started on the south side of the road, joining a natural hill that grew next to the passage.  The gravel flowed across the road and covered a house that was parked next to it.  Beyond the house the gravel hill extended north to the next hill, and beyond. Topping the hill of gravel was a fence made out of pillars of old tires, with concrete poured into the center.  Each pillar was about fifteen tires tall, and we couldn’t see over the top.

Jake drove the van down the driveway to the house and parked in front of the garage. 

“It’s getting dark, and I’d rather be on this side come morning than on that side overnight.  Anybody got a problem?” he asked.

None of us could fault his logic, so we decided to explore a bit before heading to bed.  Julia and I got out and stretched, and after telling Jake and Kayla we were going to explore the south end, we were told they were going to explore the north end and the house itself.

Fair enough.  Julia and I walked slowly out to the road again, enjoying the late evening and the long shadows cast by the mountains.  The sun was already going down; back home we would still have a couple hours left of evening before it got dark.

“Look at this,” Julia said, sweeping her hand over the gravel dike.  “Dad said it took them a month to seal off the mountains.  And they made gates like this one wherever they could.”

I looked at the top of the pile with the tires.  “My dad never really talked about it, and Jake and I were too young to remember it.  Why did they use the houses?”

Julia laughed.  “They were already there, and they didn’t have to think of a way to make a tunnel.  The gates were supposed to be easy enough for someone to use from the other side, someone escaping the carnage of the West Coast.  Dad said sometimes things went wrong, and a gate was left open.  That was the cause of the Second Outbreak.”

I nodded.  “I remember that one. Uncle Duncan and Tommy went to deal with it.  Dad was beside himself having to stay home.” 

Julia laughed.  “My dad was, too.  Mom said he was like a bear with a mouthful of sore teeth.”

I grinned at the image, then swept Julia up in a bear-like hug.  She smiled and wrapped her legs around me while we kissed in the mountains.  When we came up for air, I held her tight and whispered. “Do you know what I want to do now?”

Julia giggled. “Here?”

“Yep.  Right here.  I want to see over the fence.” 

“Ooo!  You! Ooo!” Julia unfastened herself and smacked me on the arm a few times.  She smiled while she did it, so I knew she got the joke.  Besides, there was always later for the other stuff.

We slowly made our way up the gravel and stopped at the foot of the tires.  Around the base I could see where the concrete had seeped into the gravel, making the fence that much stronger.  I also noticed that the tires were not connected to each other.  That made sense.  When dealing with zombies, if they made an opening, they would follow the leader, rather than trying to make a bigger opening.  By not giving the zombies a chance to tear down the fence as a whole, the breach could be contained as a trickle of ghouls, not a flood.

“Will you give me a boost?” Julia asked.

I nodded and clasped my hands, hoisting her up so she could just see over the top.  I held her there for a minute then asked, “Anything interesting?”

“Um, Aaron? You might want to see this,”  came the cryptic reply.

I set Julia down and looked at her quizzically.  She just shook her head and pointed to the fence.  Since there was no way she could boost me, I was going to have to do it the hard way.  Even though I was over six feet tall, and my arms gave me another two feet on my vertical reach, I still had to jump to grasp the top of the tires.  I kicked off my left side and swung my right leg up, pulling myself up in the process.  My right foot caught on top of the fence and held me steady as I looked over to see what Julia was talking about.

“Holy cow,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else. On the other side of the fence, spreading out from fence was a pile of skeletons and bodies.  Human bones mixed with animal bones showed that the fence not only kept the zombies out, but it also kept fleeing animals in. As I looked over the terrain, I swore I could see some slight movement here and there, but that may have been a trick of the waning light.

I dropped down beside Julia, and a small avalanche of gravel skittered down the slope.  I winced slightly at the sound, and then froze.  Julia and I looked at each other as a clicking sound drifted through the cracks in the wall, following us as we quietly made our way down the hill.  There was something on the other side, and we had a feeling we knew what it was.  But tonight was not the night to find out.

We went back to the house and van, waiting for Jake and Kayla to return.  I smiled when I looked at the garage door which served as the gate on this side of the house.  Two holes had been cut in the door, one about five feet high and the other about three feet high.  Faded spray-painted lettering in between the holes gave very clear instructions.  ‘LOOK BEFORE OPENING!’ I pointed the sign out to Julia, who squinted and then laughed. 

“Oh my God.  That’s my father’s handwriting! That’s too funny.”  Julia looked at it again and grew quiet, hugging herself.  I pulled her in close, and she pressed herself tightly against me.

“I sometimes wish they were here, Aaron.  Do you?” Julia asked.

“Sometimes.  But this was our trip to make.  They did their duty, enough times for ten people. They lost friends and loved ones.  So I get them staying behind.  But, yes, it would be nice to have them as backup.”  I hugged Julia.  “I especially would have loved to have seen the look on that fake Jake if Dad had been there to confront him.”

Julia giggled.  “That would have been priceless.  What was that whole episode about, anyway?”

I shrugged. “Beats me, it all just seems like a weird story that no one is going to believe, anyway.”

Julia’s hands moved slightly.  “How much longer do you think Jake and Kayla will be gone?”

I chuckled.  “With my luck, not ever long enough.”

“What’s not long enough, Aaron?” Jake said suddenly out of the growing darkness.

Julia grinned up at me. “Your speeches telling me how much you love me, Aaron.”

I laughed.  “I hate poetry.”

Jake and Kayla looked at us like we were nuts, which made both Julia and I laugh harder.

“What did you find out, Jake?”

“Not much.  The house seems pretty solidly built, and the gravel seems to be acting like a kind of shield against the elements.  Chances are pretty good we’ll get through without a problem.  There’s a pump well out back, the water seems okay if we clear the line first. What did you guys see?”

I shook my head.  “We looked over the wall, and there’s something on the other side.  When we head through, we’d better be ready for anything.  Something also is tapping on our doorstep, too. Listen.”

We all got quiet, and in the silence, in between the small noises the breeze made shifting the grass and dust, we could hear the same clicking Julia and I heard earlier. 

Kayla summed it up succinctly. “Creepy.”

Jake nodded agreement. “Sounds like it might be a zombie kid over there.”

“You know what that means,” I said.

“Yeah.  Where there’s one, there’s always another.”

“Well, let’s get our stuff sorted out and packed, and get ready for whatever tomorrow.” Jake suggested.

We spent the next hour going through the supplies we had brought with us, and the supplies we had purchased at the last town.  I emptied my pack and re-packed it, replacing the water and checking the gear for any wear that might give way at the wrong time.  Once the pack was satisfactory, I went through my weapons, cleaning my pistol and making sure the magazines were loaded.  The knives and tomahawk were cleaned and sharpened, and the sword was cleaned last.  Just in case, I went outside and squirted a little kerosene into the scabbards and fired them, taking some relief that the brief flames were not red. Jake and Kayla and Julia noted what I had done and followed suit.  We were a little surprised that Kayla’s knife and sheath burned red, indicating a presence of the virus.

“Won’t be using
that
one to cut the bread anymore,” Kayla joked.

“Any
more
?” I asked, startled.

Kayla winked.  “Gotcha.”

Once everyone had settled in for the night, Julia whispered in my ear.

“Why are we going there, Aaron? And don’t say because it’s what we do. That’s not good enough.”

I thought for a moment.  “Those people died running away from something.  They died trying to warn us, anyone, about where they were from.  Something is going on at those coordinates.  Something someone is willing to kill to protect.  Think about it.  Someone is willing to not only follow those who ran and kill them, but also cross back into dangerous territory and return to wherever they came from.  Not once, even, but several times.  That borders on fanaticism, and that’s a dangerous thing to have in the middle of the zombie zone.”

Julia thought about that for a minute, and I could see she was mulling it over.  I decided to finish my thought.

“I can’t see those people with the coordinates as being anything other than a warning, and if there is a genuine threat, we should deal with it.  We’re likely the best equipped to do so.  If it’s nothing more than a bunch of kooks running around with twigs in their hair, we’ll kick the headman’s ass for wasting our time, shoot the murderer, and be on our way,” I said with finality.

Julia giggled, then settled in to sleep. I figured I had finally satisfied her curiosity.