A Shepherd's Calling (What Comes After Book 2) (9 page)

“
They certainly did.” The Major frowned as he spoke, and Tom was sorely pressed to remember hearing three words spoken with more careful, deliberate neutrality.

Silence again fell on the group, and in that quiet, they shifted positions and re-checked their surroundings, adjusted their spacing. They tried to spot the other marines moving through the forest around them. After a few minutes of this, Major Vargas addressed Tom. “Mr. DuPuis, I hope you understand... we really had no idea you were at the farm. If we had, things would have gone very, very differently.”

Tom agreed.
We would have met under very different circumstances
.
Angie and Greg might have survived. Janessa and Toby probably wouldn't have
. The thoughts, unbidden and painful, pulled at his throat and stomach. He banished it with his next breath. “I believe you.”

There was another pause, this one shorter but no less awkward. The Shepherd glanced back at the siblings as he asked a question. “How long had you known?”

“
Long enough,” the officer answered. “We'd been gathering intelligence on that place for years. We took our findings directly to Division, who forwarded it on to Command. Due to the offenders being civilians, J.A.G. couldn't process. Had to be turned over to the F.B.I., instead. Six months later we still hadn't heard anything, so I ask my immediate superior who's going after those sons of bitches. You know what he tells me?”

Tom shook his head. “No, but I think I see where it's going.”

“
The acting Attorney General declined to prosecute. 'Insufficient evidence'. Guess a border drawn with bones and skulls was 'too vague'. A mass grave for the unused bones, deliberately cut and broken, was 'inconclusive'. Images of people being led into an empty room they never emerge from, but is suddenly filled with curing meat, was 'subject to interpretation'. Not even proof enough to send in a team to extract a few residents and conduct an on-site interview.” Vargas ground his teeth. “Just thinking about it gets my blood up.”

“
But you found a way,” the Shepherd prompted. He noticed Chris moving up to join them.

The marine nodded. “We had to be careful, though. The rules of engagement where civilians are concerned are very strict and very clear. Not open to interpretation. Between after action reports and the quartermasters munition tallies, we need to be fairly accurate with what we log 'used in the field' and why.”

“
Always a chance someone sees us, too,” Turner said while patting the radio on his back.

The Major grunted in agreement. “That's right. But if we did it a bit differently... well, who would argue with the results?”

It was Tom's turn to frown. “I don't understand. How would someone else be able to see what you were doing out here?”

“
I'm confused, too,” Chris said quietly. When Tom said nothing, the older man no doubt took the Shepherd's silence as approval to continue. “Even if there was a satellite fixed on your location, with a team of observers dedicated and ready, they'd be sorely pressed to know who started what. If there were Turned in the mix, how could you be held accountable for anything other than the safety of your men?”

“
Satellite info is spotty: bad reception, inconsistent images, data corruption. It's good for buildings, roads, geography and topography. Things that are sizable and in a fixed location. Too much of our satellite recon comes from outside entities, however. Not only do we need to bargain for some it, and then have it verified, but we need to wait for a lot of it, too. Makes it a difficult tool to rely on, especially when pressed for time.” The Major offered this with a furtive glance at Turner. “The network is not what it used to be, either. It's better than it was right after everything went to hell, but it's still a long, long way from where it was before. Again, there are other people to talk to about that.”

Chris pursed his lips. “With no eyes in the sky, how would anyone be able to watch you out here, then? Short of being out here themselves, that is.”

Turner eased past a leafless bush and around a chunk of gray stone sticking up out of the ground. “Looks like you roped him into that one, sir.” He grinned at the officer before falling in line behind the Major, the Shepherd and the Hunter.

Vargas winced. “Corporal, one of these days, your penchant for puns will do you in.”

Tom and Chris shared a look, then turned to the Major. “What?” They asked in unison.

The officer blinked and glanced at both men, a grin appearing on his face as he let them in on the joke. “
R
emote
O
bservation
P
osts. R.O.P.'s. We can't be everywhere at once, so we set those up, instead. They let us keep an eye on what's happening out here and gives us an idea of where to move and what to expect.”

“
What are those, precisely?” The Shepherd had an idea but was curious about the specifics.

“
I'm sorry, Mr. DuPuis. That's classified.” The officer didn't sound very sorry.

“
Alright,” Tom said slowly. “You didn't want anyone to see you directly attacking the farm, so you gathered a horde of the Turned to overrun it instead.” He paused. “You did so in sight of one these R.O.P.'s, right?”

The grin slipped from the major's face. “That's right. How did you figure that?”

The Shepherd arched an eyebrow. “You nearly said as much, a few minutes ago. But even if you hadn't, you did mention that you'd already told your superiors you wanted to take action against the people living there. It would seem suspicious to your superiors if something happened to the farm while you were out this way, so you needed to ensure there was no doubt as to what fate befell the place.” The Shepherd studied the trees ahead and saw someone headed in their direction.

A few moments later, the man was revealed to be one of Vargas' marines. 'Eby', according to the name patch. He was young, perhaps younger than Toby and seemed fresh-faced and very lean. He approached the small knot of people that contained Vargas, Tom and Chris. Glancing at the two strangers first, the private licked his lips and spoke to the officer. “Sir, Nadeau says the bridge shows signs of activity. He suggests going around.”

“
Ghouls?” The Major's tone suggested he knew the answer.

The Private shook his head. “No, sir. Blue Bonnets.”

Vargas frowned. “Did Dettweiler see the same?”

Private Eby shook his head again. “No, sir. Sergeant Dettweiler is holding just west of here. He reports clear going for the next few miles. “Probably all the way around the bend”, to quote him.”

The officer was quiet for a few seconds. “Get everyone to Dettweiler's position and hold there. We'll join you there in a few minutes.”

The Private nodded. “Roger that, sir.” Then he moved to carry out the order, quickly swallowed by pine boughs and branches of multi-colored leaves.

The Major looked at Tom and smiled tightly. “Probably nothing, but we should take a look just in case.” The smile faded as the older man resumed walking, this time with a greater sense of urgency. “Besides, even if we need to bypass the bridge, it should only add another hour or two.” Vargas pulled up his sleeve to look at something on his wrist. “We'll reach the vehicles at 1530 or 1600 instead of 1400. Still have plenty of time.”

He has a watch. A real, working watch.
Tom shook off his amazement. “Did you know the group at the farm was affiliated with another group? One in a school, closer to Portsmouth proper?”

Vargas nodded again. “Indeed. Possibly two parts of a whole. We tried to 'divide and conquer', where we riled up some ghouls near the school. Thought if we could keep that group occupied, it'd be easier to take out the group on the farm. With any luck, one wouldn't be able to survive without the other. We failed two attempts in town before we finally got it right at the farm. Hope the bastards at the school starve before they figure it out.”

“
Unlikely, given what they've become. They'll most likely just turn on each other. Fitting, though.” The Hunter's voice was hard. “That's justice.”

A cold smile crept onto the Shepherd's face. “Yes, it is.”

The marine looked at the other two men. “Glad we all agree.”

“
What happens to Janessa and Toby, when we get to Quebec?” The Shepherd asked this casually, as though the outcome mattered little to him. He noticed the siblings brought their conversation to an end when their names were mentioned and seemed to be listening attentively to how the Major would answer.

“
Depends on who's at the gate.” Vargas's reply was matter-of-fact. “If it's someone who
hasn't
seen the file, they might be permitted through with the rest of us. If it's someone who
has
seen the file, or heard about the debates... Best case scenario is they're refused entrance and sent packing.” The officer took a breath. “They most likely end up being taken into custody, where all manner of unpleasantness awaits. It's also possible they're killed as enemies of humanity on the very doorstep of the city.”

As uncomfortable as it must be for them, Tom was confidant the siblings had inferred some meaning from the dialogue. If the Major was correct, and they were recognized once they got to the city, the brother and sister must understand what they were dealing with. Only by accepting that possibility could they begin to plan for the eventuality that was Quebec.

“
Pretty serious consequences,” Tom said.

“
Pretty serious crimes.” He looked over his shoulder at Turner. “Eyes on the prize, Corporal. Do not let them out of your sight.”

Turner nodded briskly. “Yes, sir.”

The Major indicated a small copse of trees, where a man lay on his belly. Vargas looked at Tom and inclined his head. “Excuse me.”

Tom and Chris watched as the officer joined and conferred with his team member. It seemed the marines were focused on something far away: the major was looking through a pair of fancy binoculars and the other man, who Tom inferred must be Nadeau, was looking through a rather large scope mounted on a rifle that was very similar to the one Tom had over his own shoulder. Nadeau's rifle rested on a bipod and appeared colored in a camouflage pattern, but otherwise seemed exactly the same. He had a thought to join them, get a better look at that rifle and see what they were so intent on.

Before he could do so, Chris leaned close to Tom and spoke in a low voice. “We're headed toward Respite.”

Tom lowered his tone to match the older man's. “What makes you say that?”

The Hunter pointed discreetly ahead and to their right. “See the road through those trees?” Tom squinted in the direction indicated and nodded. “They've been following it since we left the fire station. Keeping it just in sight and always to the right. That bridge they're talking about-”

Tom felt a hand on his shoulder, turning him away from Chris. He was not surprised to see Janessa, who spoke to him in a hiss. “Did I hear him right?”

Tom narrowed his eyes. “Which part are you asking about?”

“
The part where he said we could be arrested or shot on sight.” Incredulity mixed with trepidation in her voice. It had the effect of making her seem as though she were one being made by a mix of two distinctly different elements; one part a grown woman who refused to believe someone could find fault with her actions; the other part a child that sees something frightening and wants an adult around to feel safe. It was oddly comic and endearing.

Before Tom could address her concern, Chris spoke in a quiet, even voice. “Let the punishment fit the crime.”

That is not helping matters, Mr. Farr
. Tom glared at his former instructor.

The Hunter bowed his head, the look on the face of his former student perhaps reminding him of his station. “I've presumed too much and spoken out of turn. Humbly, I ask your forgiveness, Shepherd.”

Tom could hear the sincerity in Chris's words, but oh, how they chafed. “You are forgiven, old friend. Even here, the Way is present.”

The Shepherd then turned to the brother and sister. To them, he said, “While he was wrong to say it, what he said was not wrong. The world will judge you for your actions, good or bad, right or wrong. But now you walk a more righteous path, so the only judgment you need fear comes from on high.”

The young woman looked back at him with wide eyes. She spoke quietly, her voice plain and firm. “I'm not goin' through that gate. I am not taking Toby there if we're just gonna to be put down like mad dogs.” She shook her head, eyes beginning to water. “No way. Not gonna happen.”

Tom looked down at Janessa, his displeasure evident before he could make a stone of his face.
But weren't you mad dogs? Both of you?
The voice railed in his head, small and furious, but he would not acknowledge it. Instead, he thought,
how delightful, to be so tested on the first full day of our journey. What strength He must believe me to posses, Father. I mean, no more than what I can bear, right?

“
Janessa, did you accept my offer to abandon your old life and begin anew on a different path?” His voice, heavy and somber as Chris' had been only moments earlier, was laden with ritual and purpose. There was no mistaking the importance of these words and the power they held, the holiness they conveyed. This was something sacred and pure.

While this registered with the young woman, she proved difficult to convince. “I did accept that offer, but I'm not marching my ass into a place where it might get shot just for bein' there. I sure as hell ain't gonna let my baby brother-”