You and Me against the World: The Creepers Saga Book 1 (23 page)

BOOK: You and Me against the World: The Creepers Saga Book 1
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“Fair enough,” the voice said.

Devin turned to Brandon.

“If shit goes wrong, no rescue missions; just go,” he whispered, “and get everyone back out of the line of sight. We have no idea if there are guns trained on us.”

Brandon nodded and whispered to the others. There was the metallic sound of a lock release, and then the small pedestrian door swung open a few inches.

“That’s a little creepy,” Austin said in a hushed tone.

Devin, Thorn, and Austin walked toward the door, and Golden came up beside them.

“Wait with the others,” Devin told her, but she ignored him.

They went through the door single file and entered a large foyer. Small windows lined the walls of the foyer. Over each window was a small wooden sign. Two of the signs read Guest Services and the others read Tickets. On the far side of the ticket area, a chain link fence stretched across the entrance to the actual fort, and behind the fence stood two men. Each held a torch in one hand and a wooden club in the other. Austin moved to unshoulder his rifle, but Devin touched his brother’s arm.

“Let’s keep this friendly for now.”

They approached the fence and one of the men removed the padlock, opened the door, and then took a step back. The four of them passed through the gate and stopped in front of the two torchbearers. The place was incredible. A wide street almost fifty feet across ran down the center the length of a football field. The thruway terminated at a crossroad, which ran to the left and right before disappearing behind the buildings. At the end of the thruway was another set of buildings.

Along the stretch of the street, the architecture changed to match different periods in American frontier history. On their end, the building’s facades represented early structures of the 1600s. These structures became facades from the colonial era, followed by the early 1800s and finally what looked like the old west. The sound of footsteps descending the metal staircase to their right interrupted their amazed inspection of the fort. Two men descended and then approached them. One smiled and held out his hand to greet them, the other remained stoic. The stoic man wore a side arm. Devin shook the smiling man’s hand. Thorn reminded himself that dead William had smiled. Apparently, Golden had the same thought, and her hand moved casually to the .38 tucked in her jean’s waistband. The movement was not lost on the stoic man who just as casually touched his own weapon.

He’ll be quick on the draw
, Thorn thought.

The smiling man gave no indication that he was aware of the body language interchange and said, “Hello, my name is Brother Luke. Welcome to Fort New Hope.”

Brother Luke had a round, jovial face and a warm smile. He was hard not to like and trust.

“Thank you. I’m Devin. This is Dr. Thorn, my brother Austin, and my sister Golden.”

They all shook Brother Luke’s hand, except for Golden, who stared past him and kept her hand resting on her gun.

“This man at my side is Brother Robert. He’s our captain of security.”

The man didn’t smile but shook their hands. He was in his early forties and looked fit and strong. His eyes were watchful but not in a menacing way, although Thorn was certain this was not a man to be trifled with. Robert feigned a relaxed posture, but he kept his shoulders squared with Golden and his eyes seemed to watch her even when they looked elsewhere.

“Please,” he said, “call me Bob.”

“So where are you all from?” Brother Luke asked.

“Fort Myers,” Thorn answered. “How ’bout yourselves?”

“All over,” Luke said with a laugh. “We found survivors on the road and then found this place.”

Devin looked around at the empty torch-lit street.

“It’s dinnertime, my suspicious young man,” Luke said. “Everyone is in the dinner hall.”

Bob removed a pack of gum from his pocket. He took out a piece and watched as Golden’s eyes moved slightly to watch the treat. It was some sort of test and Golden passed.

“You’re smart to be cautious,” Bob said and gave Golden a half smile. “I was a detective in Atlanta before the end. The infected aren’t the only things to worry over.”

He smiled fully, removed his hand from his weapon, and held his hands palm forward to Golden.

“I won’t draw if you don’t, little lady.”

Golden let her hand drop to her side but didn’t return his smile. She did take the stick of gum when he offered it to her.

“Yeah, we had a rather bad run in,” Thorn said, “Once bitten—”

“—twice shy,” Brother Luke finished. “Well, I’m not certain how we can put you at ease. As you see, we don’t carry weapons inside the compound. Well, except for Brother Robert, but that’s only in case of a breach or if one of our congregation turned.”

“Are any of your folks sick?” Bob asked.

“No,” Thorn replied. He didn’t see any reason to mention Austin. “I think the infection is no longer airborne. That, or the rest of us are in some way immune.”

“Excellent,” Brother Luke clapped. “Although I think you will have to decide fairly quickly whether to trust us or not. It’s not safe for your friends to sit in that parking lot for too long.”

Devin looked around again, and then he turned and studied Brother Luke and Bob. Thorn understood Devin’s hesitation. These men seemed nice enough, but there was a vibe here just the same. Thorn couldn’t decide if it was real or just the paranoia that resulted from being out of contact with others for so long.

“You’re right,” Devin said. “And our group needs a good night’s rest. We haven’t seen any Creepers in the area, but these walls will add some security.”

“Creepers?” Bob inquired.

“Just our name for the infected,” Devin answered.

“Oh, I assure you, nothing can get over those walls,” Brother Luke said. “We haven’t had a single issue since we got here.”

“I’m not worried about them getting over,” Devin countered. “I’m worried about them coming under.”

“Under?” Bob’s interest piqued.

“It’s a long story, but yeah, they burrow under fences,” Devin said and then paused. “And through cement,” he added.

Everyone looked down at the pavement as if it suddenly trembled. Brother Luke finally broke the silence.

“Well, let’s not worry about that for now. Bring your friends in and please join us for dinner. Our leader, Brother Bartholomew, will be eager to meet you.”

 

O’ these blessed hands

 

The fort’s size and design left the group awestruck. Their reaction to it, however, was mild compared to their reactions inside the dining hall. Exhausted from the road, sweaty and dirty, their clothes rumpled. Thorn felt a palpable embarrassment emanate from his fellow survivors as they stood before Fort New Hope’s residents. He watched his friends adjust their clothing and wipe their faces, and even he made an unconscious attempt to straighten his unruly hair. It felt like showing up to a black tie event in shorts and a T-shirt. For a moment, the reality of the apocalypse faded, the world returned to normal, and he almost felt foolish, although he knew he had no reason for such a feeling.

Forty or so late-middle-aged faces turned to observe the ragtag group. None of the Fort New Hope faces looked dirty or had dark circles under their eyes from sleepless nights. The men were clea
n-shaven or wore neatly trimmed beards, and the women wore makeup. Their clothes were clean, and although not pressed, they were free of the wrinkles and stains that were prevalent on the clothes of Thorn’s companions. These folks looked as if they were at a potluck dinner at the community church.

The dining hall had been a restaurant for the fort’s patrons. The individual tables had been drawn together in three long rows. The last row stood empty. Lined up down the center of the two occupied tables were large plates of food. Most of the plates held vegetables, but Thorn saw a few plates of fried chicken and several baskets of bread. His mouth watered at the sight and smell, and he tried to remember the last time he had eaten a meal that hadn’t come from a can.

The faces, which Thorn imagined to stare in harsh judgment, became smiles. His group’s tension abated a little, although there was still plenty of feet shuffling and preening to burn off the nervous energy.

“Please,” Brother Luke said and swept his hand across the room in introduction, “join us for dinner.”

It felt strange to approach the empty table carrying their weapons. Like a soldier who suddenly, in full combat gear, finds himself walking through his own front door. Several people stood and disappeared through a door on the far side of the room. They returned carrying plates of food. Two elderly men returned with a cart of glasses and pitchers filled with a caramel-colored liquid that Thorn was certain was iced tea. The uncomfortable silence evaporated in a burst of conversation. Some of the residents visited their table and asked questions, smiled, and welcomed them, but the children received most of their attention. Fort New Hope’s population seemed overjoyed by the children’s arrival as if they had not seen third graders in their lifetime.

“Children are hope,” Brother Luke said to Thorn. He smiled before he continued, “I know it may seem strange to you because you have been with these little ones from the beginning. Most here, though”—he used his hand to indicate the residents—“are over fifty. They lost their adult children and grandchildren. Seeing the little ones is a reminder that our world is not yet finished.”

“There are no children here?” Thorn questioned.

Brother Luke shook his bald head, and his slightly pudgy face expressed sadness.

“Not a one. Not even thirty-somethings, and we have only one teenager. Brother Robert and his wife are the youngest of us, and they are around your age.”

“Brother Luke, didn’t your mother teach you that it’s impolite to mention a woman’s age?” A middle-aged blonde said and smiled at Thorn.

Brother Luke laughed. “I am sorry, Sister Pamela, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Well, for the record, I am now twenty-eight. Since the world’s reset button got pushed, no one can prove otherwise.”

She held out her hand, and Thorn shook it. She introduced herself to everyone.

“Hi, all, I’m Pam. I think you’ve met my husband, grumpy captain Bob. Don’t let him scare you. All those years as a cop has washed away most of his people skills.”

Thorn immediately liked Pam, and his friends shared his sentiment.

“Brother Luke, I insist on taking charge of these young people. I’ll get them settled into some comfortable housing and find them clean clothes.”

“As you wish, Sister Pamela.”

“Umm,” Annie said, “I’m kind of picky on fashion.”

Pam smiled at her and winked.

“I think you’ll be very happy with the selection. I’ll have you know that I used to be the district manager for American Eagle. Let’s just say after the world ended, there were some sale prices I couldn’t resist.”

She laughed and it was an infectious sound that made everyone smile. Thorn caught a look from Susan, and he was surprised when he realized it held a note of jealousy. He took her hand under the table and then kissed her cheek.

“Okay, my fashion consultant,” Bob said as he took his wife’s hand. “Let them settle in and eat their meals before you start running through their itinerary.”

“See what I mean?” she mocked. “My husband has neither a sense of humor nor a clue as to what’s important to us young people.”

“Yes, please enjoy your meals,” Brother Luke added. “Brother Bartholomew will join us soon for closing prayer, and then he wants to meet with you.”

A man of about sixty had patiently waited to approach. As the three others went to their meals, he walked over and shook Thorn’s hand.

“Sorry to disturb your dinner, but did I hear that you’re a doctor?”

“Yes,” Thorn said, and braced himself for the usual request for medical advice.

“Excellent. I’m Dr. Scott. Thomas Scott. We absolutely have to get together and compare notes on this infection.”

Thorn smiled. He had forgotten what it felt like to have a fellow doctor to talk shop with, and the prospect pleased him.

“Yes, that would be very interesting,” he agreed.

“Very well. I’ll find you tomorrow or the day after. I can’t wait to show you my—”

“Please, Dr. Scott,” Brother Luke interrupted. He took the man’s arm and led him away. “We should let Dr. Thorn eat in peace.”

“Oh yes, yes, I’m sorry. You are so right, Brother Luke.”

“Wow,” Brandon said in a whisper, “apparently the AARP had a zombie survival plan.”

Everyone laughed, although Thorn was very interested in the details of New Hope’s successful survival. They had struggled hard to make it this far. The evidence of that journey was on their faces and their clothes. These folks seemed as if they lived a different existence, almost as if they had glided through the apocalypse unscathed. He looked over at Devin, who had quietly observed their hosts as he ate his meal. Thorn looked forward to comparing notes with him later. He sensed suspicion in their reluctant leader but decided to put it aside for the moment and just enjoy the meal.

A young girl entered the room with a cart of iced tea pitchers. She walked toward their table. She was maybe nineteen, and her beauty was unmatched by anyone in the room. The young men turned to watch her approach. Brad received a small elbow jab from Annie, but even she appeared captivated by the girl’s elegance. Perhaps five-five, the girl’s straight jet-black hair hung to her waist. It shimmered in the candle light and created a rich contrast to her fair, porcelain skin. The most striking detail was her eyes. They were a shade of gray Thorn could recall seeing only once on a movie star whose name he could not recall. Her features were delicate, and yet her movements indicated the lithe strength of a lioness. She smiled at them, but there was deep sorrow in the expression that made Thorn want to hug her. The feeling wasn’t sexual but rather a fatherly instinct.

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