The Takers: Book One of the Oz Chronicles (8 page)

"That's just plain crazy talk," Wes said. He walked over to my supply wagon and started looking through it.

"No!" I grabbed his arm.

"Boy, you better let go of my arm."

Kimball came to my defense. He didn't growl at Wes, but he let him know with a look that he didn't like Wes's tone. Wes heeded the warning.

"Listen, we can't look at the book. It brings them out. I wasn't sure of that until just now, but if we read that book, they'll come back, and my guess is they'll be more of them this time."

Wes sat down on a nearby mattress. "Let's burn it then."

"We can't," Lou said. "It's about us. It might show us how to beat these things and bring back…" She stopped herself. She didn't dare say it out loud.

"Bring back, what?" I asked.

"Our parents," she said. "Maybe there's a way."

"You're dreaming," Wes said. "I say we burn it." He reached for the wagon, but before he could lay a hand on it, Ajax pulled it away and grunted. "What the…" Wes leaned over farther, and Ajax pulled the wagon farther away. Wes leaned over even farther, but this time Ajax slapped his hand hard. Wes pulled back. "Ow!"

"Doesn't look like Ajax thinks we should burn it," I said.

Ajax snapped his forefinger and middle finger on his thumb. I scrambled to find his book. It lay underneath the bed. I hurriedly opened to the chapter on American Sign Language and found the sign, "No." He then held his palms up and wiggled his fingers. "No burn." He laid his hands out and mimicked the opening of a book. "No burn book." He made a V shape with his forefinger and middle finger and waved them over the palm of his other hand. I flipped through the pages, and could not believe my eyes when I found it.

"What'd he say?" Wes asked.

I hesitated. "He wants us to read the book."

Lookie, here," Wes said. "You do what you want, but I wouldn't listen to no go-rilla if I was you." He hoisted a case of beans up on the wagon. "You best burn that comic book."

With great difficulty, I lifted a box filled with trail mix bags onto the back of the farm wagon. "I don't know, something tells me I better listen to Ajax for now."

He turned and looked at Lou sitting inside the mattress store. She was making sure Nate was fed and changed before we took off for the interstate. The run-in with the Greasywhoppers the day before had convinced me I didn't want to make the trip by myself. "She say anything else about what she saw in that book?"

I shook my head. "She hasn't said much of anything since… You know."

"Yeah," he said. "I know." He looked over the well-stocked wagon. "Okay, you got food, first aid kits, blankets, sleeping bags, warm clothes, water. They'll be plenty of places to re-supply along the way."

"You think we'll run into anyone else out there?"

"Bound to," he said. "They're not all going to be friendly either, so take extra care."

"Sure you won't come with us?"

He rubbed his grizzled chin. "Working on something."

"You said that before," I said.

"Still working on it. I may be able to catch up with you." He patted Ryder. "Don't push the horses too hard. They'll let you know when they're ready to stop. Stick to the interstates, 24 to Chattanooga, 75 to Atlanta, 20 to Columbia, 26 to Charleston. It's the long way, but it's the safest route."

"I know," I said. "You've only told me about a hundred times."

"It's important." Kimball chased Ajax down the sidewalk. They were playing like they didn't have a care in the world. "You're going to have a go-rilla, a dog, a baby, Lou, and two horses on this trip. Might as well call you Noah."

"I guess we better get going." I stepped toward the store. "Saddle up, Lou. We're going to hit it."

Lou picked up Nate and put him in his sling. She gathered up as many baby supplies as she could carry (even though we had plenty on the wagon) and exited the store. Kimball leapt onto the wagon with no problem. Ajax hesitated and then pulled his huge frame onto the back of the wagon.

I shook Wes's hand. "Wish you were coming."

"We'll see each other again," he said. "You can count on that."

I wanted to cry, but I didn't feel like it was the manly thing to do, so I didn't.

Wes bent down on one knee in front of Lou. "Thanks for…" He started to cry. I guess he thought it was the manly thing to do. "For letting me call you Lou. It sure was nice to have my little sister around again." He hugged her, careful not to smother Nate.

Lou began to bawl. All she could manage to say was, "I'm going to miss you."

Wes picked her up and lifted her onto the wagon seat. I gave the supplies one last look and then walked around the wagon and climbed up on the other side of the seat. We both gave Wes one last goodbye, and then, with a flick of the reins, we were off on our journey.

***

Lou and I didn't speak much that first day. We were scared to. Not because we were afraid the Greasywhoppers would hear us, but because we were afraid we would talk each other into turning back and staying with Wes for the rest of our lives. It's funny, if everything was normal, if my parents were still alive, and all I had to worry about was school and the Titans next game and anything else a thirteen-year-old boy spends his days thinking about, I would have never given Wes another thought. He would have been just some hick mechanic who needed a bath. I would never have taken the time to get to know him. I guess normal times aren't all they're cracked up to be.

We stopped at the Days Inn on top of Monteagle. The horses had pulled us up a long and winding mountain road, and they were badly in need of a rest. Luckily the motel still used real keys, not key cards. We located two keys to adjoining rooms on the first floor and set up camp for the night.

I unhitched Phil and Ryder and wiped them down with some towels from the motel. They were soaked in sweat. The temperature was somewhere in the 40s on top of the mountain. I was sure they were going to catch colds and die. Lou and I both had two double beds, so I ripped the covers from each of the extra beds and placed them over the horses. It wasn't much, but I hoped it would do.

Lou prepared a meal for everybody, formula for Nate, fruit cocktail for Ajax, Alpo's finest for Kimball, and water and canned beans for her and me. We had a small propane camping grill, but we decided we would use it sparingly, so we ate the beans cold.

After dinner I got up and walked around the motel a few times. My butt was killing me from sitting on the badly cushioned wagon bench all day. I was hoping I would be able to walk out the kinks.

As I walked around the complex, I recalled my family's last vacation. Pop took us to Charlotte so we could watch the Titans play the Carolina Panthers. We stayed in a motel a lot like the Days Inn. It may have even been a Days Inn. I can't remember. What I do remember was having the time of my life. The Titans won in overtime, so that made it even better, but the funnest part was being with my Mom and Pop, watching a football game, eating hotdogs and popcorn. It wasn't much and it only lasted three days, but it was the best time I think I ever had in my life.

Back at the rooms, I checked in on Nate and Lou. They were fast asleep, as were Ajax and Kimball. I lay down on my bed, closed my eyes, and tried to will myself to dream about the Titans' overtime victory and the best vacation I ever had.

The next day Lou and I had some trail mix and cokes. The caffeine, sugar, and protein woke us up. Nate was his usual cranky self. Ajax and Kimball had awakened earlier and were outside exploring the grounds of the empty motel. Lou and I sat on her bed dreading the day of travel ahead of us.

"My butt's killing me," I said.

"Mine, too," Lou said, fighting with Nate to get him to take his bottle. "How much farther?"

"About 450 miles."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't suppose you got an uncle in Chattanooga." She chuckled.

"Hey, you wanted to come," I said.

"I had to." She made a point not to look at me.

"Okay," I said. "Let's hear it. You've been looking at me like I've got a third eyeball and some horns ever since you looked through that comic book. What gives?"

She hesitated. "You were mean to him?"

"Who?" I asked even though I knew the answer.

"Stevie Dayton. The boy who wrote the comic book."

I cleared my throat and shook my head. "He put that in there?"

"He called you Ozzie the Titan." She pointed to the Titans sweatshirt I was wearing. "You made him do things."

"I wasn't the only one."

"Yeah, but you were the only one that he cared about."

I looked at her like she had just shot an arrow through my heart. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"He liked you. He looked up to you."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because," she said, "he made you the hero of his comic book."

"Yeah, right," I said, feeling more and more ashamed the more she told me.

"It's true. You're this mean boy most of the time, but when there's an emergency you always save the day."

It was all a little overwhelming. I never felt more like a rat than I did sitting there listening to her tell me what Stevie Dayton had written about me. "You get any ideas how to beat these Greasywhoppers in that book?"

"I only got through the first couple of pages, but I got a pretty good idea what they want," she said.

I gave her a befuddled look. "What's that?"

She looked down at the wriggling baby in her arms. "Nate."

I furrowed my brow and almost laughed. "What in the name of Vince Lombardi would they want with that little crap factory?"

"Vince who?" she asked.

"It's something my Pop used to say. He's an old-timey football coach for the Green Bay Packers."

"The Green Bay what?"

"Never mind," I said. "Why do you think they want Nate?"

"I don't know why," she said. "But I do know when that Take… "She stopped herself from saying Taker. "When that Greasywhopper in Kroger's yesterday saw Nate, he didn't waste his time with you and Wes anymore. He went right for the baby."

"That doesn't mean anything," I said. "Maybe…" I regretted starting the sentence.

"Maybe, what?" She asked, insistently.

"Nothing," I said.

"Finish what you were going to say," she said.

"Maybe they like the taste of babies better." As soon as it came out of my mouth I regretted it. It was hateful and insensitive, but I feared it was as close to being the truth as anything else. Her jaw dropped and she looked at me with utter disdain.

"You think they eat people?"

I couldn't believe that thought had never crossed her mind. "What do you think they did with everybody?"

She struggled to come up with an answer that was as plausible as mine. We both saw the hunger and hate in the creature's eyes when it tried to get us in the grocery store. Its gnashing teeth, its vicious attack, how could anyone not think it wanted to eat us?

"I don't know," she finally said. "But I do know where we can find out." She looked at me waiting for my protest.

"The comic book?" I stood up. "Not going to happen." I gathered up my empty Coke can and empty bag of trail mix.

"We have to read it," she said.

"As soon as we look at that book those things will be on top of us."

Carrying Nate, she followed me to the trashcan at the front of the room. "I got through four pages before they showed up yesterday. I could have read more if you hadn't interrupted me. It takes them a while to find us."

"So," I said.

"So, we read three or four pages at a time."

I walked into my room with her on my heels. "That's crazy. They'll find us."

"We can be ready for them," she said. "Ajax and Kimball will be there. You saw what they did to those things."

"We can't count on that happening again."

"They can't see animals. You saw how they were scared to death of Ajax and Kimball."

I turned to her. "It's too risky."

"But…"

"No. Now, if you bring it up again, I'm burning the comic book."

She huffed in anger. "Fine, but let me ask you something. Why did you bring that comic book with you?"

I couldn't answer the question. The truth is I didn't know why I'd brought the comic book. Something drew me to Stevie's house. Something told me I needed that comic book, but if I told her that, she would take that as a sign we should read it. And she may have been right, but I was not ready to deal with the consequences. "Get your stuff together," I said. "I'll hitch up the horses."

***

Coming down Monteagle was just as hard on Phil and Ryder as going up. At the bottom of the mountain, we stopped and let them rest. I jumped off the wagon and stretched my legs. I noticed Ajax signing something. He had his hands in fists together in front of him and then he burst them apart. I retrieved his book from the back of the wagon and searched for the sign.

"Explode?" I said.

He repeated the sign over and over again.

I signed, "What explode?"

He pointed to a billboard down the interstate. It was for a Crazy Jay's Fireworks in South Pittsburg, Tennessee. It depicted several fireworks exploding in midair. "Explode," he signed again.

I looked up the word fireworks; both index fingers shooting off like sparks. "Fireworks," I said as I signed it. I heard myself say the word and it suddenly occurred to me that he was right. Fireworks explode.

"Fireworks," I said absentmindedly.

"What?" Lou asked.

"Ajax just gave me an idea," I said. I signed, "Smart gorilla," to Ajax. He grinned and pounded his chest.

I got back on the wagon, and we headed for Crazy Jay's.

***

South Pittsburg, Tennessee, was nestled next to the interstate with Crazy Jay's less than a mile off the exit. It was an enormous metal fabricated warehouse full of every kind of firework you can imagine. It all looked spectacular, and in theory a well-placed firecracker could provide us with some line of defense against the Greasywhoppers, but the question was, did they work? After all, Wes had said that they did something to the guns so they wouldn't fire. Had they done the same thing to the fireworks? There was only one way to find out. I found a box labeled "Warning: Explosives," full of fat M-98 firecrackers. I retrieved a lighter from behind the checkout counter and stepped outside. With Lou, Ajax, and Kimball looking on, I lit the firecracker and tossed it toward the road. Within seconds it let out an explosion that sent Ajax and Kimball into a state of panic, but it was just the result I wanted.