Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6) (98 page)

I started to wonder if maybe the soldiers that had met up with our little invasion force had continued the search for me. Whoever they were, they were trying not to be seen, but they were not letting that stop them from tracking me as I traveled through the morning and late into the day.

I was at a stream filling my one small canteen that I had been equipped and nibbling a small portion of apple. Judging by the texture, I would not want to ration out my remaining two slices much longer. Since I was nearing what had once been a populated area, I was following the ridgeline and deciding where I would go look for a place to spend the night. I could have tra
velled another few hours, but I was not all that familiar with the region, and therefore, unsure as to how far before I would reach another area that would offer up someplace to stay.

One of the things in the EEF manual about being out in the wilderness is that if you are alone, it is always preferable to find someplace inside to stay at night. Walkers are only a concern in large numbers when it comes to being trapped in a house or ot
her structure. Since it is unlikely that you would be drawing any attention to yourself, a house is a perfectly acceptable place to camp for the night. A two-story location is ideal; simply find the hatch that opens to the crawlspace above the ceiling.

I spotted a location that looked promising and started across a large, open field. The grass was at least waist high and so I was being careful to keep an eye out for creepers. Maybe I was too focused on the ground and that is what allowed a dozen people to surround me and get within few yards from me before I even noticed that they were there.

“Can’t say that I seen too many Travelers around these parts lately,” a man’s voice snapped me back to being aware of my surroundings. I cursed myself for my carelessness.

“Don’t look like no Traveler, she ain’t carryin’ no weapons, ain’t even got a proper pack. Looks to me like some fool kid runnin’ away from one of the colonies,” a woman added with a laugh that sounded more mean than anything else.

I kept my mouth shut. One thing I learned that they didn’t exactly teach in an EEF manual was that if you kept your mouth shut, most folks would keep talking because they did not like silence. Something about quiet made people nervous. Or at least talkative.

“She’s carrying one of those metal clubs,” a younger wo
man said. “Only seen them on those soldiers that been comin’ through. And she’s wearin’ all that gear like those idiots. I think she’s one of them.”

And there it was. As I looked around, I began to think that they had rehearsed this scene…or perhaps played it out a few times already. This was looking bad. Maybe now would be a good time to break my silence.

“I’m not one of the soldiers…I was supposed to be in training and I escaped,” I said.

“Little slip of a thing like you? I imagine it probably wasn’t all that hard. Looks to me like you’d pure disappear if you turned sideways,” the first man who’d spoke said while rubbing his hand over his stubbled face.

“Hard to believe that’s a girl,” another man’s voice spoke from behind me. “Ain’t got much meat on her bones, that’s for sure.”

I spun to face this person with my hands on my hips. “Bob Hall, if I tell Felicia that you spoke to me that way…I bet she’d give you a swift kick.”

I ran to the outstretched arms of the big man. I’d met Bob and his wife Felicia when I had foolishly set off east thinking that I was going to march into Irony, USA and rescue all the people from my community who had been taken by the NAA when they’d first struck. I’d been with them for several days before revealing my identity, only to discover that they had already figured it out. Bob and Felicia Hall were also the people I had handed my journal over to when I had turned myself in to Dominique and her invaders at Warehouse City.

“Never thought I would see you again, little girl,” Bob said with a smile.

“Yeah, well…my reasons for staying…”

I felt something squeeze my throat and heart at the same time and realized that I was crying. I had worked so hard to keep myself together that I had not allowed myself to think about the fate that Dominique had relegated to my mother.

Once the tears began, it was like there would never be an end to them. I folded into the arms of Bob Hall and I bawled myself silly. My home was gone, all the people that I knew were either captured, dead, or just gone. Everything that kept my life together was destroyed…by one crazy bitch who could not let the past just fade away.

I wiped at my eyes once I felt like the worst was over. At some point, I guess all the other people who had been part of the group with Bob slipped away. Bob took my hand and we walked in silence back to the little village that he and Felicia had appa
rently decided to settle down in—for the time being at least.

***

“Wait, so you are saying that this girl, Dominique DuBois is not only alive, but that she has assassinated the President of New America and decided that she wants to basically conquer every independent community and tribal society and become some sort of—” Rick Brunson was sputtering.

“For the however many-eth time…” I was getting tired of this conversation running in the same stupid circle. “Yes, she wants to be some sort of warlord. I think she has something big in mind, this cannot just be some weird revenge kick.”

“I think we have heard enough for tonight,” Felicia said, patting my hand. “Tomorrow we can discuss what to do and who to tell, but this child needs some food and a good night’s sleep.”

People began wishing each other well and saying good night, but Felicia and Bob were already leading me out of the tent. I was tired, but not too tired to notice all the people hanging around outside. Curiosity was clear on more than one face and nobody seemed to be trying to hide it.

I don’t remember anything after that, including whatever it was that I ate before falling asleep. Apparently I was more tired than I realized.

When I woke up, it actually took me a few minutes to get my brain caught up on where I was and what had happened. I climbed out of the bed I had no recollection of climbing in to. Imagine my surprise when Felicia greeted me outside and i
nformed me that I had slept for four days! In that time, quite a lot had occurred.

A scouting party had run into a pair of soldiers and killed one while capturing the other. He was currently being que
stioned by Rick and a few others. Since there was a crowd standing around outside a small hut and the occasional muffled yelp could be heard, it wasn’t hard to figure out where the questioning was taking place.

“Also…we need to talk, Snoe,” Felicia said after a moment where she gave me a looking over like she was trying to figure something out.

“Okay,” I said with a nod as I scooped out a bowl of the meaty stew that was simmering in a pot over a nice fire that was doing a great job of keeping the chill in the air from getting a grip on me.

“It’s about your mom.”

I heard that sentence and right away I could tell that I did not want to hear what she would say next. She was going to tell me that my mother had met her end in that bizarre cube that had already claimed Jenifer; but I already knew that.

“Now…mind you, we only have the word of that man in there to go by…and I would not necessarily believe anything that comes out of the mouth of somebody that is being to
rtured…”

She said the word “tortured” like it was no big deal. I was not sure what sorts of things happened to Travelers to make them so able to be matter-of-fact with something as horrible and cruel as torture, but hoped that my heart never turned so cold that it did not break just a little at the idea of one human being using pain to get another to speak or do the torturer’s bidding.

“It seems that your mother was publically hanged the day you escaped.”

The words slammed into me and I have no idea how I ended up on the ground staring up at Felicia. The bowl I had been about to dig into had fallen from my hands, but it didn’t matter because I was no longer even the slightest bit hungry.

“That’s not true,” I insisted. “They had her in that cube.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” Felicia said. “And like I said, I wouldn’t exactly take the word of somebody being to
rtured. People say a lot of things to try and get out from what is being done.”

I got up and started towards where this person was being i
nterrogated. A couple of people must have tried to slow me down, but after I pushed through them, Felicia was at my side and telling people to back off.

There was a guy standing at the entrance to the tent. Quite honestly, he looked like he would rather be anyplace else at the moment. And from the sounds coming from inside, I guess I could understand. Once again I found myself praying that I ne
ver became immune to emotion or feeling to the point that I could so easily tune out another person’s suffering.

“I want to talk to him!” I blurted as I entered the tent.

I have heard about cameras. I have seen photos and understand what they are and how they work. We don’t have anything like that now. There are people who draw or paint, but that is really not the same. At that exact moment, I wished for one of those things so that each of the men standing around that table could see the looks on their faces. No matter how much bluster and denial they could muster, they would not be able to deny the fact that each of them knew deep in his heart that he was doing something wrong.

“Snoe…” Bob was the first to recover and came towards me with his hands out as if he meant to shield me from what was so easy to see just a few feet away.

“I want to talk to him,” I repeated. “Felicia says that he has admitted to seeing my mother hanged the other day. I want to talk to him right now.”

“Let her pass,” another man spoke up. This one was a little taller than Bob who was easily six and a half feet tall.

“I don’t think that is a good idea,” another man said.

This one was a short, pudgy, balding man who looked like he had been dunked in a trough of blood. His face was splattered and for some reason, my eyes fixated on a single drop that grew and grew on his chin until it simply could not defy gravity for another second.

Despite his appearance, he had the expression of a man who had been caught in some terrible act. He also looked like he did not care and that I had just interrupted him in the middle of something very important and he wanted me gone. Not because he—like the others—was embarrassed by his actions. Rather, I was keeping him from getting back to it and he
really
wanted to resume whatever he had been doing a moment ago.

“Do you know who that is?” Bob asked.

“I could care less,” the pudgy man remarked, setting down a long metal rolling pin that was slick with blood.

“She is Snoe Gainey,” Bob whispered like it meant way more than it should.

In a flash, the pudgy man was now studying me in a way that I was not at all comfortable with. And were it not for my mother and what I had heard regarding her death. I might have noticed…or paid attention to that look.

I pushed past and took a spot beside the table this man was strapped down to and I tried to keep my focus on his face…such as it was. He could only really look out of one eye, and that had to be rough considering that it was barely a razor-fine slit. I tried to imagine what this man might look like in a normal situation and really could not. He was a bloody mess, and he was so swo
llen and misshapen that it looked like a huge lump of clay that had been tossed on the floor for the children to do with as they wished.

“You say that a woman was hanged the other day,” I said. “What makes you think that it was my mother?”

“Because…” His voice was barely above a whisper.

I had to struggle and strain not only to be able to hear his words, but also to be able to decipher them. The man’s lips were probably twice their original size as well as being split in mult
iple spots. I could make out one particularly ugly hole where it was obvious that his lower teeth had come through the flesh. Also, I could tell that several of his teeth were broken and could not begin to imagine how this sort of damage was actually inflicted.

“The president made everybody come out to witness it. She announced it on a bullhorn and had a huge banner hanging above the gallows. She gave you an hour to turn yourself in…and you didn’t.” All of that took what felt an eternity to say as the man coughed, choked, and spat through every word.

“You are a liar,” I said, leaning down close to him. “My mother was in the cube enduring the same fate as the president of Sunset Fortress did…I heard with my own ears before that expedition I was sent on ever left.”

The man shook his head very slightly. He coughed again and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. I was having a very hard time looking at this without feeling some sense of pity. After all, it was Dominique, not this man, who had killed my mother—one way or another.

“All I know is what was said. And the woman was able to speak before she was hung…although I don’t think she got to finish. She told you to run and never look back.”

Once again it was what felt like a lifetime until the man could get all of his words out, but I heard each and every single one very clearly. I asked him to describe the woman who was hung and he did…perfectly. It was certainly my mother he d
escribed. So then I asked him to describe the woman who was currently in the cube. I could feel something in my chest starting to squeeze. I had a feeling.