The Darkest Place: A Surviving the Dead Novel (25 page)

The captain looked at Johansen, then back at me. “I don’t suppose he would mind coming down and having a talk with us, would he?”

I shrugged. “Not sure. I can go ask him, though. He might, he might not.”

“Kid,” Johansen said, “if we have to hunt him down, he ain’t gonna like it.”

I shot him a level stare. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Johansen,” Morgan said, glaring, “why don’t you go somewhere and make yourself useful?”

The sergeant looked like he was going to say something else, but when he saw the impatience on Morgan’s face, he bit down on it, gave a curt, “Yes sir,” and stalked away.

“I suppose if your friend was a threat to us,” Morgan said, “Johansen would no longer be among the living. Is that a fair assumption?”

I nodded. “I would have said something when he was pointing his gun at me, but to be honest, I was too surprised. What’s that guy’s problem, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Too much testosterone? Maybe his parents didn’t hug him enough? Honestly, though, he probably just had you pegged for a deserter. We’ve been having problems with that lately.”

“Do you think it occurred to him if I was a deserter, I wouldn’t go strolling by an Army convoy in my tactical gear? Wouldn’t it have been smarter to—oh, I don’t know—change into civilian clothes?”

“Things like that don’t always occur to Sergeant Johansen. He’s not what you might call quick on the uptake.”

“I gathered that.”

Morgan sighed, took off his helmet, and ran a hand through a thick mop of short black hair. His face looked mildly sunburned and he was sweating in the heat. “About your friend, the Marine. If he shot someone, I’m kind of obligated to investigate. Was anyone killed?”

“No.”

“Any serious injuries?”

“Not sure. I put the hurt on the guy who tried to stop me from leaving.”

“How bad?”

“He was unconscious last I saw him.”

Morgan cursed softly. The quartet of men who had been walking toward us from the front of the column finally arrived. They came to a halt behind the captain, eyeing me suspiciously. “Okay,” he said, “here’s what we’re going to do. Turn your weapons over to these men here. We’ll conduct an investigation. If everything is how you say it is, you’ll be free to go.”

“Just like that?” I asked.

He nodded. “Things are pretty bad out there, kid. This is the least of the messed up shit I’ve seen. The way I see it, you have a right to defend yourself and your property. If you traded with these people in good faith, and they did something out of line, you were well within your rights to fight back. But you better be telling me the truth. Understood?”

I nodded. “Understood.”

Ten minutes later, Travis was red-faced and sputtering.

“I want him arrested,” he hissed, jabbing a finger in my direction. There was a large shiner on his temple where my elbow had hit him. We were standing in a ring of soldiers and curious onlookers just past the compound’s gate, baking under the mid-afternoon sun.

“For what?” Morgan said. “Maybe you didn’t notice, officer, but you’re outside your jurisdiction. Furthermore, your department doesn’t exist anymore. You have no official capacity here. Ergo, you had no right to demand this young man allow you to search his belongings, much less detain him at gunpoint. On the other hand, if Mr. Hicks here decides to press charges against you for attempted kidnapping, a federal crime, I’ll be obliged to take you into custody until we arrive in Colorado Springs, at which time you will be brought up on charges.”

Travis’ eyes widened in sudden realization at what he had done. I felt a sort of sympathy for him; he was so fixated on surviving and protecting his little community, he had lost perspective on his actions. I stepped forward and raised a hand to get Morgan’s attention.

“That won’t be necessary, Captain,” I said. “It was a misunderstanding, that’s all. As far as I’m concerned, it’s been resolved. There’s no need for things to go any further.”

“Misunderstanding?” Jerry shouted, standing next to Travis, holding his bandaged arm. “Look at this! Whoever’s out there shot me in the arm!”

“First of all,” Morgan said, “that’s a shrapnel wound, not a gunshot wound. Second, weren’t you
pointing a gun
at Mr. Hicks here when the incident occurred?”

Jerry worked his mouth like a fish a few times, then said, “Well yes, but-”

“And why were you pointing a gun at him?”

More fish-face. “Because he told me to.” He nodded his head at Travis, who grimaced.

“Jerry, you idiot, just shut up.”

“And when you pointed your gun at him,” Morgan went on, “was he threatening you?”

“Well … no, he wasn’t.”

“Was he threatening anyone else, or stealing something, or brandishing a weapon, or doing anything that was in any way a danger to the lives of anyone in this compound, or detrimental to their property?”

“Uh … no.”

“So what exactly was he doing when you decided to threaten him with a rifle?”

“He was … walking.”

“Walking?”

“Yeah. Walking.” Jerry lowered his head, realizing how ridiculous he sounded.

“So you pointed a gun at him. For walking. Because this guy told you to.” The captain pointed at Travis, who by now looked almost as embarrassed as Jerry.

“I gotta tell you guys,” Morgan said disgustedly. “You don’t present a very damning case.” He gestured to the staff sergeant holding my weapons. “I don’t have time for this shit. Give him his property back.”

I took my rifle and pistol and began walking toward the gate, anxious to be away. Morgan shouted from behind me, “Hey Hicks.”

I stopped and looked over my shoulder.

“Can I talk you into hanging out for a few minutes?”

“For what?”

“Might have a job for you if you’re interested.”

I wasn’t, but I figured it would be a bad idea to refuse outright. So I shrugged and did my best to appear as if I was considering it. “All right. I’ll hear you out.”

“Find a spot in the shade. I have some things to take care of, then we’ll talk.”

I walked over to an RV that looked empty and had one of those retractable awnings. After lowering it, I went inside and searched until I found a folding chair, then took a seat and waited.

The soldiers worked quickly, their first order of business helping anyone who needed medical attention. A few people had minor injuries, but the community was mostly healthy. Next, they assessed the vehicles at the settlement’s disposal and inventoried their fuel, trying to decide how far they could go on what they had. I overheard Mabel explain that the National Guard troops who had left these people here had mostly drained the reserves in the gas station’s underground tanks. What remained would not get them very far.

The few children in the encampment came out and surrounded some of the more friendly soldiers, touching their equipment and peppering them with questions. The men in uniform were unfailingly kind and patient, letting the kids look at their unloaded rifles and try on their helmets. It reminded me of YouTube videos I had seen of soldiers hanging out with children in Iraq, giving them candy bars and toys, trying to win hearts and minds. It was eerie to see the same thing happen on U.S. soil.

Once finished with their initial assessment, Morgan asked Travis to gather his people in the center of the enclosure. When they had come together in a loose, anxious knot, Morgan stood on an empty milk crate and raised his voice.

“I have good news, and I have bad news,” he said. “So I’ll give you the bad news first. There is a swarm of infected about eight miles behind us. I’d like to tell you how many of them there are, but I’m afraid it’s too many to count. Tens of thousands would be my best guess.”

A chorus of worried noise went up from the gathered survivors at this. Eyes went wide, couples pulled each other into shaky arms, parents clutched their children. The voices turned toward Travis, a dozen questions at once, all with the same message: What do we do?

“All right, all right,” Travis said, holding up his hands. “Don’t start panicking. Let the captain finish.”

The crowd quieted. Morgan nodded his thanks and continued. “If the horde follows the same patterns we’ve seen others follow, eventually they’ll disperse. But I can’t guarantee that will happen before they reach this settlement. And even if they do, the numbers of infected in the area will increase dramatically. Your defenses here will not be enough to stop them.”

He paused to let the facts sink in. The crowd went quiet, absorbing the news. When he sensed it had been long enough, Morgan said, “Now for the good news. There are about twenty thousand troops in Colorado Springs as we speak. By the end of the month, that number should be up to about thirty-five thousand. Just this morning, I received word that FEMA is setting up disaster relief stations in the area, and is offering aid to anyone who can make it there. Now here’s the deal, folks. I can’t promise you anything. I thought we had a pretty good chance of saving San Antonio, but there were too many infected. We were overrun. But I’ve been to Colorado, and I can tell you the terrain there in the Rockies will give us a hell of an advantage. We’ll have a lot better chance at fighting the infected there than we do here. So that’s where we’re headed. You’re all welcome to come with us. We should have enough room to fit you on the trucks, or you can travel in your own vehicles if you want. I can’t guarantee I’ll get you all to Colorado safely, but I can promise you I will damn well try. If you don’t want to come along, I can’t force you. But be aware, if you stay here, you’re probably not going to make it.”

He stepped down from the crate and looked at Travis at eye level. “We move out in an hour. You have until then to decide.”

With that, he walked away, motioning his troops to return to the convoy.

As the people in the settlement talked among themselves deciding what to do, Morgan looked my way and beckoned me over. I got up and followed him out of the gate and over to his Humvee. Once there, he passed a quick message over the radio and then stared at me for a few seconds, measuring me up.

“You look like you’re in pretty good shape,” he said finally. “That Travis guy was no joke, but you put him down with no problem. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you probably know how to handle yourself. You any good with that carbine?”

“I’m not terrible with it.”

“Had to kill any infected yet?”

“A few.”

“So you know about the headshot rule?”

“Damn near learned the hard way.”

He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah, me too. Listen, we’re short-handed here. We have a big job ahead of us, and not enough people to get it done. I need all the help I can get. You follow?”

“I’m not interested in joining the Army.”

“I’m not asking you to. I need people who can fight, and who can keep their head in a bad situation. What you just dealt with in there, most people wouldn’t have had the nerve to do what you did. I could use a guy like you, assuming you can follow instructions.”

“And what are you offering in return?”

“Safe passage to Colorado. As safe as I can make it, anyway. Think about it, man. What are you gonna do out here? You think you can survive in this place long term? Hell, most of it’s burned to the ground. Things are better up north. And you’re not going to find a faster, better way to get there than this convoy.”

I thought about it a moment and realized he had a point. But I had more than just myself to think about. “I have to admit, you make a good sales pitch,” I said. “But there are other people in my group.”

“More than just your buddy up there in the hills?”

I nodded. “My family.”

“Can any of them fight?”

“Some.”

He looked at me more closely, but I kept my face blank. When he realized I was not giving anything else away, he said, “Like I told you. I need all the help I can get. You can bring them along.”

“I’ll have to talk to them about it. Might take a while.”

“We leave in an hour. Sorry, but orders are orders.”

“Do what you have to do. If they decide to come along, we’ll catch up. What route are you taking?”

He took out a map and showed me. I committed it to memory, and then offered him my hand. “No promises, Captain, but you very well might be seeing me again. If you do, I’ll have company.”

He shook my hand. “Either way, it was nice to meet you, kid.”

“Likewise.”

*****

“I didn’t recognize any of them,” Mike said.

We had gathered in a circle back at the vehicles, all except for Lauren. She elected to stay in Dad’s truck with the engine running and the AC cranked as high as it would go. Tyrel had regained consciousness and stood across from me, one side supported by a makeshift crutch, the other by Lola. His eyes were still somewhat glassy from the pain meds, but at least he was on his feet. Lance, meanwhile, leaned against the fender of my father’s truck, arms crossed over his chest, keeping his distance from the conversation.

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Blake said. “46 is a long highway. There were thousands of troops when we left.”

“But from what that captain was saying, not many survived,” Tyrel said. “How many were in that convoy, do you think?”

I shook my head. “Maybe a hundred or so.”

“Jesus,” Dad muttered, wiping a hand across his face. “I’m not happy about what they did to Tyrel, but I didn’t wish them dead.”

“None of us did,” Mike said. “But we can’t change what happened. What’s important right now is what we decide going forward.”

“Are you sure they’re not the same troops we ran into on Highway 46?” Tyrel asked.

“As sure as I can be,” Mike replied. “Looked to me like they came from a different section of the highway than the one we tried to cross.”

“Either way,” Dad said, “the only one of us they would recognize is Tyrel, and even that’s pretty damn unlikely.”

Tyrel grimaced. “There’s also the matter of my leg.”

“We can explain that away,” Dad said. “Tell them someone tried to rob us and we fought them off, something like that.”

“Works for me.”

“Then it’s decided?” Mike asked. “Are we really going to do this?”

Dad searched all of our faces. “Any objections?”

No one spoke. He turned around and looked at Lance. “What do you say? You in?”

Lance shrugged. “Got nothing else going at the moment. Might as well.”

“Caleb, you ride up front with Mike,” Dad said. “When we catch up with the convoy, I’ll let you do the talking.”