Tribulation (15 page)

Eager to do
something other than pace, Sam started to prepare food. It was
almost midday. He’d have to wake the others shortly and no doubt
they would be hungry.

He swept the
ash off the main counter and set up his camping stove. The gas
canister was, thankfully, full. Sam had found a ransacked camping
store a few days earlier. While mostly cleaned out of useful items,
it was well stocked with portable cookers and gas.

The can opener
on his Swiss Army knife came in useful as always. Sam enjoyed using
it, not having to concern himself with touching the metal. Unlike
iron, the steel knife had no harmful effect on him. He selected a
few tins from the bags and poured them into a large pot he’d found
at a hardware store. It had been filthy, covered in ash but Sam had
done his best to clean it. A difficult task without water but he
really didn’t think the others would care.

The tins
contained a mixture of beans and spaghetti. There was even a tin of
meatballs which was a rare treat. The demon worshippers had been
well stocked – unsurprisingly, given that they would’ve taken the
food of all those they preyed upon.

The delicious
smell of hot food wafted throughout the store, almost overpowering
the lingering stench of sulfur. One by one, the survivors, roused
by the smell of probably the first hot meal they’d had in ages,
shuffled over to the counter. Sam handed each one a disposable
plastic plate and a spoon and ladled out a generous helping to each
one.

Sam watched
each one with interest, though careful not to make eye contact.
Even in the dim light, his distinctive black irises could possibly
give the game away. In order to get these people to safety, he
needed them to trust him. If they got one whiff of his true nature,
then that trust could disintegrate more quickly than a demon
turning to ash.

His earlier
assessment had been roughly accurate. There were twelve of them all
told, ranging in age from probably sixteen up to mid-twenties.
Eight of them were female. One of the men and three women were
African-American. Two women were of Asian descent and one of the
men looked Hispanic although Sam couldn’t be sure. His experience
in these matters was fairly limited. All were thin, emaciated; a
pretty sorry looking bunch.

As they
collected their food, each found a spot and sat down to eat. None
of them made an effort to communicate or interact with the others.
Sam couldn’t blame them. Chances were they’d been cooped up the
others for days, if not weeks. They were probably heartily sick of
the sight of one another. Some of them did thank him for the food,
however, their faces struggling to make smiles, long unaccustomed
to such expressions.

Olivia was
last. Sam thought this was deliberate. She was somewhat stronger
looking than the others and allowed them to go before her. She
paused and looked at Sam after he’d filled her plate.

“Why?” she
asked quietly.

“Why what?” he
replied, not meeting her eye.

“Why did you
save us?” Her gaze took in the others. “What’s in it for you? What
could you possibly want with us?”

“Nothing,” said
Sam. “I want nothing.”

The expression
on Olivia’s face displayed various emotions: disbelief, scorn,
anger. Sam watched carefully from out of the corner of his eye and
could see her struggling with this concept.

“Garbage,” she
spluttered. “No one does things like that unless they want
something. What do you want?”

Sam felt
suddenly quite tired. Humanity never ceased to amaze him. He’d just
risked his life for this woman and did he get thanks? No. Just
suspicion. Though at least that was better than downright hatred
which is what he’d probably get if his true nature were
revealed.

“Believe what
you will, but I want to help you. I’ll get you to safety and then
leave you alone. Is that ok with you?” He could hear sarcasm
creeping into his voice but he couldn’t help it. This woman was
pushing his buttons.

Olivia ran one
grubby hand through her cropped hair, displacing the ash that had
taken up residence. Some of it fluttered down into her plate of
steaming food, not that she seemed to notice or care. It looked
like she’d or someone else had hacked at her hair with a knife. Her
eyes darted left and right as she tried to assimilate this notion.
Finally, she attempted to make eye contact with Sam again. He
looked down, seemingly intent on stirring the food.

He could tell
she wanted to say something else but clearly thought better of it.
Muttering something under her breath, she went and slumped down in
a corner, eating hurriedly but keeping a cautious eye on Sam. Sam
decided to ignore her. He didn’t care. As soon as he’d delivered
them to the Ohio Army National guard base, he’d wash his hands of
them. Not for the first time, he was getting sick of being treated
like this – and this was before they discovered he was half
demon.

The other
survivors were eating ravenously, heedless of manners or any other
social convention, stuffing the food into their mouths as quickly
as possible. The food was gone within minutes, washed down with
precious swigs of water from bottles scavenged from the demon
worshippers. While they finished up, Sam disconnected up the
camping stove and stored it in his pack.

Making sure he
had everything, he wiggled his way into his pack, strapping his
Katana on over the top. The Wakizashi was settled in at his waist.
Thus prepared, he addressed the others.

“Right. It’s
just after midday. We’ve got to get going. We’ve got to cover about
fifty miles all told. I’m hoping to cover about ten before
nightfall.”

One of the men
spoke up. “Where are we going? Surely we’re not going to spend the
night in the open? We’ll be easy prey for demons.” Some of the
others started to mutter too. Sam let them vent for a moment and
then held a hand up for silence. Grudgingly, they quieted down.

“I’m taking you
to the only functional army base in the state. It’s in Columbus but
it’s too far to travel in one or even two or three days. Don’t
worry - I took that into account when I rescued you. There’s a
couple of what I suppose you’d call ‘safe houses’ along the route.
The first of them is where we’re going to spend tonight.”

This seemed to
satisfy most of them, though Olivia was still watching him warily.
Sam took no notice, directing the others to load up their packs
with food. Careful not to touch the iron shells, Sam helped those
with weapons ensure they were loaded and functional. Although
rarely using such weapons himself, Sam had become a bit of an
expert over the last few years. It gave himself something to do
during the lonely days and nights.

When everything
was prepared, Sam led them out of the store, carefully checking the
street first. Not that he was worried about demons. He still
strongly suspected that some of the demon worshippers had escaped.
If there were any more followers in the town, then Sam would be
ready for them.

He took the
lead, careful not to set too demanding a pace. Flurries of ash
followed in his wake as the others fell in line. Soon, they’d
reached the main highway. Heading south west, Sam knew that state
highway 71 would take them directly to Columbus.

They trudged
on. Sam had to let them rest frequently and monitor how much water
they drank. He had underestimated the condition these survivors
would be in. The ones with the plague were struggling the most. He
had hoped that they would be much fitter to travel than they were.
As it was, they would struggle to make ten miles before nightfall.
If the demons found them out in the open after dark, they wouldn’t
stand a chance. He increased the pace slightly, and was encouraged
to see them keeping up. One of the weaker women fell back and Sam
had to assist her. By mid-afternoon, Sam reckoned they’d covered
maybe half the distance he wanted to. Approximately five miles to
go. Olivia, hanging back at the rear of the group for the entire
trip, moved up to walk next to Sam. She didn’t speak but Sam could
sense her looking at him from time to time, building up the courage
to say something.

Eventually, she
cleared her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Sam nodded but
kept his eyes on the ash covered road in front of him.
“Thanks.”

Out of the
corner of his eye, he could see her watching him. “It’s just that
no one has helped me before. Ever since the Rapture, I’ve been by
myself. Had to watch out for myself. Anytime anyone tried to do
something for me, they always wanted something. It’s hard to break
the habit of mistrust.”

Sam nodded once
more. “I know and I understand. Forget about it. I’m used to
it.”

They walked in
companionable silence for a while. Sam was glad that they’d cleared
the air a little bit. Glad that she’d actually thanked him. It put
a little spring into his step.

“Something’s
been bothering me,” she said finally. “It’s about that demon. You
know, that giant burning dog. I know some of the others have been
talking about it.”

“What about
it?” Sam knew he was on shaky ground here. He’d have to play this
carefully.

“Why didn’t it
attack you? Why did it attack those who are meant to be on its
side?”

Sam shrugged,
hoping it looked convincing. “Beats me,” he said, trying hard not
to look at her and gauge her reaction. His words didn’t really ring
true in his ears, so he doubted whether he was fooling her for a
second either. “I’ve always had a thing for dogs. I was never
allowed one when I was growing up so maybe this demon dog sensed
that.”

“Yeah … maybe,”
she said slowly, letting the words hang. Suddenly, she changed
tack. “So, why did you do it? Rescue us, I mean?”

Sam smiled
crookedly. “Would you believe an angel asked me to do it?”

Olivia stopped
dead in her tracks, looking at Sam in disbelief. He kept walking,
struggling not to let his grin get wider.

A couple of
hours later and Sam knew they weren’t going to make it. At least
half of the survivors were in no condition to go much further. They
were almost dead on their feet as it was. Sam called a halt several
hundred feet from a large fenced structure.

“What’s wrong
with spending the night there?” asked one of the men, a white male
with rotten teeth who had introduced himself earlier as Mike.

Sam shook his
head. “Too close to the church. There’s one not far from here off
the state highway. The demons will be able to sense us.”

“We haven’t
really got much of a choice, have we?” said another woman. Sam
thought her name might be Sue but he couldn’t be sure. Her hair,
clearly once a vibrant red, was now dull and gray as the ash that
surrounded them.

Sam sighed but
he knew that they were both right. There was no way they were going
to make it to the safe house he’d picked out. Better to be in this
structure – whatever it was – than face the demons in the open. Sam
was confident he’d be able to look after himself and escape but
these others would be doomed. He wasn’t about to leave them to
their fate, especially after expending so much effort to rescue
them in the first place.

It wasn’t long
now until darkness fell. They’d have to move pretty quickly. Sam
made a decision. “Ok. We’ll spend the night in this place up here.
I don’t know what it is but it’s better than nothing. Let’s pick up
the pace and see if we can secure it properly.”

The others
agreed, moving as swiftly as their exhaustion allowed. Shortly, but
not nearly as quickly as Sam would’ve liked, they found themselves
outside the two-storied structure.

“What is this
place?” asked Olivia. Sam shook his head. He had no idea.

“It looks like
one of the county storage depots,” said Mike. Everyone turned to
stare at him.

“How do you
know that?” asked Sue.

“I used to work
for the county,” said Mike. “Sanitation.”

“Sanitation?”
asked Sam.

Mike smiled
slightly and shrugged. “Yeah. I was a garbage collector.”

“So, Mr.
Garbage Collector, how do you propose we get in?” asked Olivia.

Sam had to
concede she had a point. It was like Fort Knox. The front of the
building was solid brick with only one heavy looking door. A wire
fence with rolls of barbed razor wire atop it, ran from the sides,
enclosing a large area around the back.

Mike eyed the
building warily. “To be honest, I don’t know. These depots are
designed to withstand vandalism and theft because they’re often
unattended in the weekends. From memory though, some of them have
skylights to let a little natural light in. Someone will have to
get up there though. Good luck with that.”

“I’ll try,”
said Sam, without hesitation. He liked to climb. He’d spent much of
his youth climbing the rocks around Devil’s garden. He liked to
think he’d been pretty good at it too.