The Lazarus Impact (23 page)

CHAPTER 46

“Horses! They’re eating too, so I guess the whole ‘dust on food’ thing doesn’t create a problem,” Brandon says as everyone approaches them. Four horses huddle up near a gate on a split rail fence. A few troughs of grains hang off the aging posts.

“We don’t know if the debris made it out here yet,” Michael says.

“Yeah,” Dr. Vogel affirms. “Winds are shifting though, now that the storm passed. Things could get very different out here if any of that crap is still suspended in the air. My guess is the snow knocked a lot of it down.”

“There’s no way I’m taking this mask off, that’s for sure,” Brandon says.

“Maybe we should take the horses,” Michael suggests.

“That’s stealing,” Marcus says.

“Says the convict,” Michael retorts. Amy jabs an elbow into his side. “Sorry Marcus.”

“What do we need horses for? We’re almost there anyway, right?” Amy asks.

“Not too much further up this road,” Wolf says.

Michael unlatches the gate. The horses walk out and stand along the roadside. “I thought we’d use them to pay our way into the compound. You think they’re going to just let a bunch of strangers in?”

“I told you, it’s going to be fine,” Brandon urges. “Everyone in her family is allowed to bring whoever they want. I was invited, and she told me I could bring whoever I wanted, and it would be okay with her father.”

“How well do you know her? Do her folks like you enough to let that happen?” Dr. Vogel asks.

“Pssht...” Brandon blows off the questions. “Who knows... I never met them.”

“What?!” They all say it in unison.

“How the hell do you know these people then?” Michael asks.

“From the web. A message board. Dude we talk every night; it’s not like she’s a stranger,” Brandon argues.

“Yes, it’s
exactly
like she’s a stranger.” Michael scoffs at him. “This is fucking perfect. We’re following a goddamn kid around...”

Just then there’s some yelling from across the horse pasture. Two men carrying rifles run out towards them from a barn at the far end of the field. Gunshots shatter the cold morning air.

“Shit!” Dr. Vogel exclaims. “Now we
have
to take the horses.”

“Go, go, go!” Michael yells.

Wolf quickly mounts a horse and starts up the road. Dr. Vogel and Michael fire back in the direction of the two gunmen. One of them drops, and the other runs to his aid. Dr. Vogel gets on the second horse. Sheryl and Brandon share another. Amy and Michael take the last one, and Marcus follows behind at a sprint.

Amy sloppily hangs onto the horse’s neck as it trots, and Michael hangs onto her with his hands around her waist. The ride is painful, bumpy and uncomfortable. Without a saddle, they’re slipping all over the place, and without reins, Amy has to wrap her hands around the horse’s hair.

Marcus can barely make out the distant, fading shape of Wolf’s and Dr. Vogel’s horses way up ahead, just reaching the crest of a hill in the road. Sheryl and Brandon are about halfway there, and Michael and Amy are moving slowly, within speaking range.
Four horses
.
It’s like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse
,
bringing plague and death
.
Maybe this is all wrong
.
Maybe my place was back on the other side, finishing out the rest of my punishment in hell
.
I was given freedom
...
Freedom from jail, from the consequences of my past
...
Freedom from disease, and freedom from the quarantine lockdown
...
and I still failed
.
I broke my vow
.
I brought harm to the living, to the innocent
.
It may not’ve been me who fired those shots, but it was the people I was with
.
If we hadn’t stolen those horses
... His mind races through all the scenarios that could have been as he runs. He wears down and begins to tire as he struggles just to stay at half pace. The mask is restricting his breathing, and fogging up like crazy.
Fuck it
.
I’m taking off this mask
.
If God wants me dead then so be it
. He peels off the mask, bathing his face in the fresh, icy air. It feels like freedom.

“Are they following us?” asks Amy.

Michael frees up one hand and aims his gun backward nervously.

“Easy man!” Marcus yells as he trails behind on foot.

“No. Just Marcus,” Michael says. “The crazy bastard took off his mask.” Michael puts his hand back around Amy’s waist and feels wetness. He sees the red on his hands. She’s bleeding. “Oh fuck! Were you shot? Are you okay?”

There’s no answer. Amy’s grip on the horse loosens. The horse slows to a walk as she slips off its back. Michael hops down and catches her in his arms. He lays her on the ground.

“Help! Stop!” he yells. “Dr. Vogel!” But Dr. Vogel can’t hear him. He’s too far ahead, just over the hill. Sheryl and Brandon turn to help them. “She’s still breathing. This is all my fault. This is all my fault, isn’t it?” Michael whimpers.

Marcus doesn’t answer him. “Lay her over the back of the horse.”

“We’re almost there,” Brandon says. “She can make it.”

“Why didn’t you guys shoot back? Why didn’t you help?” Michael asks with tears in his eyes.

“We were in the wrong for stealing,” Marcus says. “Those guys were just defending what was theirs. You might’ve done the same.”

Blood trickles down the horse’s hind legs, oozing from Amy’s side. They make it over the hill. Wolf and Dr. Vogel are stopped up ahead in the distance. When they catch up, Dr. Vogel tends to Amy’s wound. Michael hovers over him nervously.

“Is this it?” Marcus asks.

“I think so,” Brandon says as he looks over his map.

An overgrown path winds its way backward from behind a tall, bush-lined chain-linked fence. They can’t see anything through the padlocked gate before them.

“She’s alive, but I can’t stop the blood loss without some medical gear,” Dr. Vogel says. “You said they have stuff inside?” he asks Brandon. Brandon nods yes.

Wolf rustles a roll of duct tape out of his pack, along with a small tube of instant glue. “This’ll help.”

“Not for long.” Dr. Vogel dresses her wound, squeezing out the entire tube of instant glue into the bullet hole. Then he wraps her waist with duct tape.

“Instant glue?” Michael asks.

“One of its many early uses was on the battlefield,” Wolf says.

“I need real supplies or else she’s gonna die. I need to get the bullet out and close her up properly,” Dr. Vogel says. “I can’t lose her the same way I lost Willy.”

Michael turns wily in the eyes. He starts to roar at the fence. “Hey! Let us in! Let us in, damn it!” He picks up a big rock near the fence and smashes it against the padlock over and over. He kicks it and thrashes about, wrapping his ice cold fingers around the metal fence. Suddenly he feels a jolt go through his body, and a screaming pain runs from his finger tips down to his toes. He flails backward and falls to the ground. “Ahh! What the fuck!”

“The fence is electrified,” Wolf says as he scans the delicate wiring that snakes its way up from the ground through the fencing. “They’ve got power, and you’re lucky you aren’t dead,” he says to Michael.

Another gunshot rings out and everyone scatters along the road except for Dr. Vogel. He stays with Amy. One of the gunmen from the horse pasture makes his way up the road, firing wildly in their direction. He’s old, and has a crazy look in his eye. He grumbles under his labored breaths. “Gimme those dang horses. I stole ‘em first, fair and square.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Michael steps out into the road to meet him. He raises his gun at the old man, filled with righteous anger. “You’re the one who shot my wife?”

“Da... da... damn right I did,” he stammers.

“Don’t you think it’s a little extreme to fire at someone just for taking a horse?” Michael asks.

“Four ho... horses!” He grins an ornery black and yellow, semi-toothless smile back at Michael. He spurts out a wad of chewing tobacco in Michael’s direction and coughs repeatedly. Spittle and drool dangle from an overgrown, unkempt reddish beard.

“Still... The punishment doesn’t fit the crime. You could’ve fired a warning shot or just told us to stop. Instead you tried to kill us. And are these even your horses?” Michael asks.

“They are now. To... to... took ‘em from some border jumpers like you.” The man twitches and ticks between stuttering words and coughs.

“Border jumpers? Man. I guess what they say is right. It’s not the guns that do the killing; it’s the people. The fucking morons and psychos!” Michael catches himself before going on a rant. “Listen. I’m sorry. You can take the horses back. Just leave us alone. My wife needs help.”

“Sorry ain’t gonna help you, bo... bo... boy. It’s only fair. You took one of mi... mine, now I’m gonna take one of yours.”

“It was self defense,” Michael argues.

After several throaty hacks the old codger cocks his rifle and takes aim at Michael. Michael quickly raises his gun and pulls the trigger, but there’s no shot. Just a click. Without thought Marcus leaps up from behind Michael and dives out in front of him as the hick pulls his trigger. The bullet hits Marcus square in the chest as he passes in front of Michael.

“No!” Sheryl yells. She and Brandon open fire and drop the old man with a hail of bullets. But Brandon keeps cranking out round after round, loading single bullets into his bolt action rifle over and over until the anger fades. A tear falls down his cheek as he sees Marcus dying on the ground.

“Marcus!” Sheryl runs to him.

“Put pressure on the wound,” Dr. Vogel instructs her.

“What business you got here?” A raspy voice seems to come from nowhere. Everyone turns, but there’s no one there. “What do you want?”

“I’m friends with Apoc... I’m friends with Jilly,” Brandon says. They traded names at some point, but he’d almost forgotten. He’s attracted to her avatar, and her avatar is called Apocalypta. The name Jilly means nothing to him. He doesn’t even know what she looks like, but he knows every damn pixel of her Japanese anime-inspired icon.

“Please help us. My wife was shot, and this guy just pulled a Jesus and jumped in front of a bullet to save my life for the
second
time. They need your help. They
deserve
your help,” Michael pleads. He kneels down and grasps Marcus’ hand, giving it a good squeeze. “Hang in there,” he says under his breath. Marcus squeezes back to acknowledge, but he’s weak.

“Pulled a Jesus?” Marcus asks with a confused whimper.

“Sacrificed yourself for a sinner,” Michael explains with a whisper. “Come on Marcus. You didn’t get that? I expected more from a man of your spiritual intellect.”

“We’re already full up here, and you’re too many,” the voice says.

Wolf emerges from the side of the road where he was hiding with a puzzled look on his face. He cocks his head like a canine as he listens to the voice. His eyes dart all around looking for the source.

“Jilly asked me to come. Said I could bring friends. Ask her yourself, sir,” Brandon pleads, mustering up his best rendition of respectful Sunday school manners.

“Doesn’t matter what my daughter said. I’m the boss here,” the mysterious stranger says.

“I know that voice,” Wolf says. “It’s unmistakable.” Wolf points beyond the gate. “You there; I can see you... Cough Drop? Damn good ghillie suit, mate. Only reason I saw you was because the filter on your gas mask is poking out.”

“Wolf?” the man asks as he steps out from the brush and reveals himself. He’s draped in a netting that’s covered with natural foliage, twigs, and branches from the area. It’s a military style sniper or recon camouflage.

“You guys know each other?” Brandon asks, confused.

“No shit...” Michael is stunned. His mouth drops open in shock.

“This is incredible!” Wolf exclaims. “I knew we had to be in close range with the CB, but this is downright unbelievable.”

“No,” Michael says. “It’s fate.”

“Fate,” Marcus utters.
Maybe he’s coming around
.
It’s no longer a dirty word for him
.
He’s starting to see it
.
Every connection we’ve made in these past few days; it’s all fate, part of God’s plan
.
It’s no mistake, no accident, no freak coincidence
.
It’s providence
. “I’ve done my duty.” Marcus struggles to get the words out. “I’ve been like the shepherds of old, leading a flock to the promised land.” He turns to Cough Drop. “Now it’s up to you, the father. Show grace as the heavenly Father does. Let them into your kingdom despite their flaws. I’m ready to face judgment and pay for mine.” Marcus manages a smile before slipping into unconsciousness.

“I’m not letting you pay for shit, Marcus. You stay with us. Stay with us!” Michael turns to Cough Drop with a pleading look in his eyes. Tears well up behind his mask.