Born in the Apocalypse 2: State Of Ruin (7 page)

BOOK: Born in the Apocalypse 2: State Of Ruin
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Chapter 16

 

 

Rockford covered a huge area, and everywhere I looked I saw signs of life. The homes were well kept, there were children running around, and it seemed like there were even tradesmen with shops and items to trade. I didn’t need anything at the moment, but I did notice on my way in there was a library that I might be tempted to explore.

The one thing I saw here, more than most places I had been, was hope. This town had survived, and more to the point, it had thrived, and I was very curious how it managed to do so. I asked my guide as we walked along.

“Well, that’s a simple thing really,” McGrath said. “Our former mayor was a history buff, and when things were going bad, he decided we needed to protect ourselves the way the ancient Spartans did.”

“Come again?” I knew who the Spartans were, thanks to my mother’s history lessons and my own reading, but I failed to grasp the parallel with the current situation.

“We don’t have any walls, in case you hadn’t noticed,” McGrath said. “Take too long to build and if you’re a successful community, they don’t contain you for long. So we followed the example of the Spartans, who didn’t have walls either. Every citizen of Sparta was armed, or knew how to use a weapon.” McGrath pointed over to the people we passed. “Every single one of them is armed. It’s required. That’s why we were grateful you had your own guns. Although,” Tobin said with a smile, “I think I’d rather face you with a gun in your hand than that bow. You pick that up against me, I
know
I’m dead.”

I liked Tobin. He had an easy way about him that I was sure made him take calm charge in situations that required it. Who knew? I might just stay here for a bit, then head back to home to get Kim and bring her here.

“Here we go. This section of town is for newcomers. All of the homes are clean and dry, and the garages have been cleared of cars so you can stable your horse if you need to. Water is by pump, and there should be one in your backyard. Every third house has one, and I’m skipping a few homes to make sure you get one.” Tobin winked. “Kind of a thank you for killing them Trippers.”

“Obliged.” I got off Judy and went up to the house, opening the garage. Judy walked right in like she owned the place.

I turned to McGrath. “Where can I get feed for her? Do I need to trade for it?”

McGrath shook his head. “Up the street, around the corner. There’s a hay bale pile and a wagon. Take what you need and make sure to bring the wagon back. We all help out in our best ways. One of the residents likes making hay bales for some reason, so he makes sure the feed piles are always full and rotated.”

“Okay. Thanks. After I settle in, you want me to come find you guys and talk, or what?” I asked.

“We’ll come to you. We know where you are.” Tobin winked again and pulled his horse’s head around, moving back into town.

I watched him go for a minute and then Judy came back out, bumping me with her head.

I took her nose and patted her neck. “Seems almost too good to be true, girl. We’ll need to make sure everything is okay before we trust anybody.” I took her back into the garage and closed the door.

 

 

 

Chapter 17

 

I settled in for the most part, but I kept things ready to go just in case I needed to move quickly. I spent a week at the house by myself, reading the books I brought with me, taking Judy out for long strolls through the town, and practicing my archery at a hale bale I set up. I kept my practice at a hundred and fifty paces, sending arrow after arrow streaking through the air. I tried going faster and faster, and my accuracy suffered for it, but I was still able to hit the hay bale. I also practiced my draw, and got more familiar with my little pistol. It was a Colt Automatic, a .25 caliber gun, small enough to fit in my pocket. The magazine held six rounds, and the bullets were the smallest I had ever seen that weren’t .22’s. I wasn’t sure how useful it would ever be, but I made a small holster out of an extra piece of deer hide and the little gun rode on my belt directly above my right butt cheek.

On the ninth day, Mack Brewster paid me a visit. It was evening, and the weather had been amazingly good for that time of year. Normally, it would be rainy and cool, but for some reason, we were blessed with meteorological magic.

“Evening Josh!” Mack bellowed from his horse. “How you gettin’ along?”

“Evening, Sheriff. Getting along fine, thank you. I appreciate the lodgings and the privacy,” I said.

“Good, good. You busy right now?” Mack asked.

“Nope. You need me?”

“Former Mayor Blake Rutledge, and current Council President Blake Rutledge, would like to talk to you,” Mack said with a slight flourish of his hand. “I’m to fetch you if you’re free.”

“Give me a minute and I’ll be right with you,” I said.

“Take your time. I’m in no hurry and his honor ain’t going nowheres, anyway,” Mack said with a lift of his eyebrow.

I belted on my gun and shrugged into my coat. As I was leaving the house, Brewster stopped me.

“Begging your pardon, Josh, but I was told to ask you to bring your archery kit,” Mack said.

I shrugged. “No problem. One more minute.”

We were on our way in less time than that, and as we went through the more populated neighborhoods, I could see some people looking me over.  I could almost see their thoughts, wondering who I was, why was I with the sheriff, and so on and so on. I was a stranger, so this was to be expected. I tried to imagine what they saw when I rode past, and after a few miserable ideas about my looks, I stopped that.

We entered the city proper, and while many of the homes were occupied, many more were not. I asked Brewster about it and he shook his head.

“Lot of folks panicked when the world went dark. Those with families elsewhere or over the wall took off to try and be with them or get to them. Suffice it to say that we’ve never had one come back. Ever,” he said.

The homes gave way to rows of businesses, and I could see several that were the result of people taking over where the old one left off. I really didn’t think in the old world that there was a store that sold clothing and animal feed supplies in the same place. I wondered how they did commerce here and asked Mack about it.

“Mostly it’s trade, although we do have a few coins here and there. The stuff from before the fall is mostly useless, but the older coins, anything before 1964 were nearly all silver, so they have some value. Some people have some gold and silver coins they use, but most people just trade. Either goods or services.” Brewster shifted in the saddle. “Things are actually approaching normal.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked.

“Just this, son. Every time I think things will be just fine, the world tends to collapse inward. And usually, I wind up picking up the pieces,” Mack said.

“You could just move on,” I said.

“Not that easy, son. Someday you’ll see.”

“Maybe.”

We reached a large house just off a winding brick road. The homes were very large around here, mostly of a Victorian style. I’d seen the type in a lot of small towns that were well off the beaten path. Mostly farm towns that had a few people still living in them, but chances were pretty good they were the same way before the Trippers began their long march across the state.

As I walked up the path towards the building, all thoughts of Trippers and towns and damn near everything else flew out of my head. Sitting on a swing on the porch was a girl. She was about my age, with long auburn hair that hung down below her shoulders in lazy curls. Even from this distance, I could see she had blue eyes, and those eyes watched me as I walked up the path. I didn’t look away, I just met her gaze until she was the one who looked away with a small smile on her face.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs to the porch, I stopped. I looked up at the man standing at the top of the stairs. He was a tall man, with white hair and dark eyes. His bearing was proud, but I didn’t see much on him that should have given him his pride. I stood tall because I knew who I was and what I was capable of. I had a feeling this man had been blessed with a lot of luck that gave him a sense of superiority. At least, that was my first impression. I could only guess what his first impression of me was.

“You must be Joshua. I am Blake Rutledge.” His voice was deep, almost hypnotic. I could see he was a man used to getting what he wanted, likely through the persuasive power of his arguments. My dad used to tell me about a sergeant he knew that was like that. He could argue a confession out of the most hardened of criminals.

“Just Josh is fine. Nice to meet you,” I said, stepping up onto the stairs. I reached the top and looked Blake in the eye. “Nice house.”

Blake’s eyes narrowed, and I could see he didn’t like me stepping up onto his territory. I could also see he especially didn’t like my being as tall as he was. His eyes traveled over my shoulders and lingered a bit on my weapons.

“Are you any good with that bow?” Blake asked.

“Mr. Rutledge, I get the distinct impression you know most of what goes on around here. I’m sure you know what I did with this bow when I arrived, and I am sure you are aware of my practice. So, even though you don’t need the answer, yes, I am good with my bow,” I said.

A faint giggle reached my ears and I looked over at the girl who was smiling behind her hand. She straightened up at her father’s glare, then looked out over the lawn, away from me.

“Well put, Joshua,” Blake said. “I heard you’re good. I’d like an example of your skill.”

I pulled an arrow out of my quiver and nocked it. “What’s the target?” Truth be known, I was just wanting to show off for the girl. Something inside me turned upside down when she looked at me, much more than anything I had ever felt around Kim.

Rutledge picked up an apple from a bowl and threw it across the yard. It bounced once and was suddenly pinned to a tree with an arrow.

“Whew! Nice shot, Josh!” Mack said. He was standing on the lawn, behind the two of us.

I shrugged. “Rabbit heads aren’t much larger and they jump about the same.”

“Indeed,” Rutledge said. “Tell me, Joshua, are you as good with your other weapons?”

“I hit what I’m aiming at.” I slung my bow over my back and waited.

“You’re modest, strange for one so young,” Blake said. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Fifteen, I think. How long have the Trippers been around?” I asked.

“Sixteen years come summer,” Brewster said.

“Then I’m fifteen, about to be sixteen,” I said.

“Then you have no memory of life before the world ending?”

“Nope. This world is normal to me,” I said simply.

“Let’s talk inside. Come on in, Brewster.” Blake turned and walked into the house, holding the door for the sheriff and myself.

The girl got off the swing and walked over as I was going inside.

“I’m Cindy. Nice to meet you, Josh.” Her voice was high but very nice. She held out her hand.

I took it and held it gently for a second. “Same here, Cindy. Same here.”

 

 

Chapter 18

 

 

I don’t remember much of the conversation I had with Rutledge, my head was filled with other thoughts. I think I agreed to ride the boundary of the town and deal with any Trippers wandering nearby. If there was a bunch of them, I was to ride away and sound the alarm. Or maybe I was supposed to ride over them. I can’t really recall. I do remember seeing a blue-eyed face looking in the window from time to time. I also remember Rutledge saying something about proving I could shoot when I had to, but maybe he said something about shoes and tobacco. I’m not really sure either way.

I was out on the edge, letting Judy set the pace when she suddenly lifted her head. I looked in the direction her ears were pointed and saw a horse and rider headed my way.

My heart turned over when I saw long brown hair flowing out from the rider, matching the waves of the mane of the horse that came this way. She rode with ease, and turned her pony to ride alongside me.

“Hi, Josh! Thought I’d find you out here. How’s the patrol?” Cindy spoke with a smile on her face, and I doubted I’d ever seen anything so pretty. Cindy’s cheeks were slightly flushed from her ride, and I was partially mesmerized by them.

“Not much happening. I can’t believe your dad is willing to pay me in room and board to ride all day and do nothing,” I said. “I do have a worry, though.”

Cindy’s brow puckered a little. “What’s that?”

“If I’m the only one out here, who’s watching that side while I’m on this side?” I pointed to the other edge of town, on the far side.

Cindy’s mouth formed a neat little O, then her brow puckered again. “I don’t know, Josh,” she said seriously.

I laughed. “No worries. It takes me two hours to ride around the community at a slow walk. I keep an eye out on the horizons, and if anything’s moving, I’ll wait for it.”

We walked for a bit, talking about ourselves. I told Cindy about where I grew up and about my friend Trey. Cindy told me about her dad and how she grew up in the town that seemed to be beating the odds.

We talked for a good half-hour, and I was so absorbed I didn’t even notice the Tripper that was crawling out of a copse of trees until Cindy’s face went from one of attention to one of shock and fear.

“What the…Oh, hell!” I said. I walked Judy up until we were about ten yards away and I pinned the Tripper to the ground with an arrow through his head. I dismounted to retrieve the arrow and that’s when Cindy screamed.

I spun around and saw three Trippers lurching out of the grass and moving in to surround her horse. Cindy was frozen as the infected advanced, wheezing in their terrible way and reaching with bloodied hands.

I didn’t have time to get over there, so I fired an arrow at the one closest to me, killing it instantly. As it dropped to the ground, I slapped Judy on the rear. “Go, girl!”

Judy took off, and Cindy’s horse leaped after her, taking her cue from the older, wiser horse. Thankfully, Cindy had enough sense to hold on tight and she bounced away on her pony.

That left me with two Trippers who were really mad now that their meal had just ridden away. One was a teenager, who fairly ran at me with his mouth open, his bloodshot eyes trying to sear through me with sheer hatred. I put an arrow through his left one for his trouble.

The other one was a small boy, probably no older than ten or eleven. His eyes were nearly black, and I could see he had been through the meat grinder. Huge scratches covered his face and arms, and there was a large bite taken out of his left shoulder. The weird thing was there was a shine to his wounds, like something had grown over them to prevent them from bleeding too much. I had never seen one like this before and I was actually very curious about it.

Not so curious that I was going to invite him for dinner, since the little monster was charging at me at a speed I would consider uncomfortable.  But I was curious enough to step aside and trip him as he went by, sending him to the ground in a fit of snarling rage. I knelt on his back and with a couple of quick grabs, managed to hold his arms behind him long enough to tie them there with small leather strings I kept on my belt for securing things to Judy’s saddle.

The boy snapped at me and I took advantage of his open mouth to shove a large stick in there as he bit. I looped leather around the ends and secured it to his head by tying it in the back. I pulled him to his feet and he lunged again, biting deep into the wood bit and straining at his bonds.

I held him at arm’s length until I found a decent stick, then I tied his head to the stick. This way I could pull him along behind me without giving him the opportunity to use the slack to run into me again.

I caught up to Cindy, who was holding the reins of Judy.

“My God, Josh. You caught one. No one has ever done that before,” Cindy said. “What are you going to do with him?”

“I’m very curious about his wounds,” I said. “And maybe he will be able to give us some answers on how to deal with them on a larger scale.”

“Oh my God. Daddy is going to flip. He’s been saying for years we need to capture one of these things, but every time we tried, someone always got killed so we gave it up. Oh, by the way, thanks.” Cindy leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek, causing said cheek to turn fiery red and my eyes to look away.

“Nothing to it,” I said stupidly. “Anyone would have done the same.”

Cindy laughed at my attempt at modesty and we slowly rode back to town. Judy was not happy at all with a Tripper near her tail, and she showed it by keeping her ears flat back at me. Given the chance, I was sure she’d buck me off.

Back in town, I delivered my package to an incredulous Sheriff Brewster, who looked none to happy about keeping a Tripper in his jail. I had no idea where else to bring the thing, so here I was. After that, I walked Cindy back to her house. Her father wasn’t home, but maybe that was a good thing. I didn’t stick around because I wanted to get back to the jail.

When I arrived, Rutledge was already there, having been informed by somebody. He glanced my way with a look that didn’t bode well and I was very curious as to why he was mad at me. I dismounted and tied Judy to a fence where she could crop the weeds and grass to her heart’s content. Something about this situation was talking to my instincts and what it was saying wasn’t very good.

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