Compass Call: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 3) (52 page)

“What the hell do you want from me? I already said you can have my truck. Doesn’t that say something?” complained Ross, as he dropped the keys to the ground.

“I’m not convinced,” said Jeff. “Everyone here has offered their support and cooperation, and they did it without being asked . . . they volunteered. You . . . we had to ask, and then it had to be on your terms.”

“So what are you going to do if I don’t agree to help you . . . exile me like you did Tony and the others?” asked Ross. He was growing visibly upset the longer the conversation remained focused on him. His face
was also beginning to turn red, and he was breathing heavily through his open mouth.

“So it’s back to Tony, is it?” replied Jeff. “We all voted on how to deal with him. I voted to execute him, but the majority voted to exile, so I accepted exile . . . without complaint. All of us did. No one is a prisoner here, Ross. You’re free to come and go as you please, but if you decide to go it alone, then you’ll be left alone. You can exile yourself . . . here, or someplace else.”

Jeff put a hand on Ross’ shoulder, and said, “But I’m asking you to stay, Ross. You know hydrology better than anyone in the neighborhood. You’re a valuable asset, but we’ve all agreed there’s a need to work together in order to survive. The old days where material wealth meant something are gone. Everyone is hungry and thirsty . . . we’re all equal in that. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“You say you’re not like Tony, but you’ve managed to put yourself in a position of authority like Tony,” replied Ross, as he shrugged off Jeff’s hand and stepped aside.

“Have I?” replied Jeff. “I wasn’t
elected
to lead this group. I’m only leading us to the train. We’ve all agreed, when we came together the other day, that we would lead by consensus. I don’t know where that will take us, but it’s working so far. Anyway, there’s no room for self-serving people in our survival group, a group that will likely include most of the people in our neighborhood when we return with food. Everyone who joins our group will have a voice, but they’ll have to contribute . . . they’ll have to work to earn that voice on the committee.”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be? If I don’t bend over and do exactly what you say I won’t get any food?”

Ross’ comment raised many voices in the group, including several that attacked Ross personally. Jeff held up a hand and said, “I never said that, but that’s how it will probably end up working. Every able bodied person will have to pull their weight if we’re to survive this mess. You won’t be able to buy your way out of it . . . there’s no unwarranted welfare here . . . no freeloaders.”

“And how’s that different from what Tony proposed? His leadership goals were just as absolute as yours,” replied Ross, as he thrust a finger at Jeff’s chest.

“The main difference is that Tony set himself up as a leader, and he did it under false and selfish pretenses. That’s not my plan . . . it never was. I don’t want the job. I was just tired of sitting around, and letting other people tell me how I was going to live or die. But you’re free to form your own group, Ross, to search for your own food and water. I’m sure you’ll find other people in the neighborhood who think like you . . . who think their possessions are more important than their survival. Help isn’t coming, Ross, and things will never be like they were. The sooner you come to terms with that the better your chances for survival,” said Jeff.

“I . . . I never . . .”

“Ross! You’re free to go. Just know this, we won’t stand idly by for trouble.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffed again.

“I mean, that we’re done with troublemakers here. If you cause any trouble here we’ll escort you out.”

“See! I knew it! You are just like Tony. You . . . you can’t just get rid of people whenever you want!” yelled Ross.

“We will if you cause trouble. Trouble is the opposite of cooperation,” explained Jeff.

“Don’t you dare patronize me,” said Ross, as he bent to pick up his keys.

“Ross, you’ve already delayed our mission long enough, so please go home. Go talk to Susan and get her opinion, because your decision will affect her too. We’ll come by and talk again tonight.”

Ross turned and stormed off without another word. All eyes were upon him as he climbed into his Escalade and drove away. John was surprised Ross left without displaying any of the juvenile tactics common with upset drivers, but he was glad he left quietly. He also appreciated Jeff’s lesson because it was a good one, and everyone needed to learn it. John saw Jeff as
someone he could work with, and even trust, and he was relieved someone was shaping up to be a leader even if they didn’t want to be.

John nodded his approval to Jeff and said, “We can take the van instead. Pete, you and Jeff pick the men for the recon. I’ll take the rest of the guys and hand out the captured biker weapons, and give them instructions on how to build a barricade at the entrance. I’ll also get my bolt cutters . . . to breech the fences.”

“Already got it covered, boss,” replied Pete. “We should be ready to leave in five minutes.”

John, Adam and Pete rode point in Jeff’s cramped, extended-cab pickup. At first, Pete groused about the small back seating area, and said he preferred taking one of the captured motorcycles, but after starting up the obnoxiously loud machine he abandoned the idea altogether. After all, the loud bikes violated one of Pete’s own tenants of reconnaissance, that their mission be stealthy, so he sucked it up and climbed in the truck.

After cutting the back fence of the open lot next to John’s house, the convoy headed west with an occasional course correction to the north or south in order to bypass certain obstacles. Though Pete began the trip in the back of the cab with Adam, after climbing out to cut open the second fence he decided to ride the rest of the way in the bed of the truck. But instead of sitting on the hard metal floor, he stood behind the cab, and with a hand gripped firmly on Jeff’s roof mounted light rack, he directed the convoy like a mounted patrol leader. Adam saw how much fun Pete was having and wanted to join him, but John refused, telling his son that this was a tactical mission, not a joy ride. Adam sulked for a moment, but quickly recovered and kept his eyes open for trouble.

When they finished cutting through the third fence, Pete had one of the men from the van join him in the back of the pickup. Breeching
the fences was tedious work, but not physically demanding, and he only wanted someone to provide an additional armed lookout while he worked. Adam used the opportunity to point out to his dad that he could have saved Pete the trouble, but John only grunted and said, “You’re a Soldier on a mission, Adam, so quit questioning my decisions. Now please be quiet and keep a lookout.”

The only living creatures they saw during the cross country trip was a few head of cattle. John was actually surprised to see any living cattle at all, especially after seeing so many dead ones rotting in the fields around them. The smell of their rotting flesh filled the air, so much so that Jeff began to drive out of the way to pass upwind of their bloating corpses.

“It’s too bad we can’t grab one of the live ones,” said Jeff, “it could feed us pretty well for a few weeks.”

“Butchering a cow is no small task,” said John. “Besides, we don’t have sufficient refrigeration to preserve the meat. The only solution would be to eat it quickly, or dry it.”

“We could do that. One of the guys, that hunter who spoke up during the meeting, he could do it,” said Jeff.

“Jerk the beef, or eat it?” asked John.

“Both, I think. Do you mind if we shoot one and take it back with us on the way home?” asked Jeff.

“I don’t see why not. You see how they’re coming toward us? They must be hungry. We’ll have to grab some hay to lure them in closer,” replied Jeff.

“Maybe we can lead them back to the neighborhood with us,” said Adam.

“I like that idea,” said Jeff.

Pete slapped the roof of the cab with his hand and Jeff slowed the truck to a stop. Pete immediately jumped out and walked forward with wire cutters in hand. John watched his friend work on the fence, and hardly listened as Jeff and Adam talked about how they could lead the cows back to their neighborhood and herd them into someone’s yard.
After cutting the fence, Pete hung a white, plastic shopping bag from the nearest fence post. Jeff asked John why Pete did that with the bags, and John said, “Probably to mark the breech.”

Pete came to Jeff’s open window and said, “I think I better close up this fence when we pass through or these silly cows will follow us all the way to the train. So go ahead and pull through, and then give me a second to reset the fence once the last vehicle is in.”

“Do you have wire for that?”

“I’ll figure something out. Go ahead and pull forward. I’ll tell the other driver’s what’s going on,” said Pete, as he stepped clear of the vehicle. Jeff nodded and drove through the breech. The other vehicles followed, and the trail vehicle, another pickup, stopped to block the breech until Pete could cover it. Using a small bow-saw, Pete cut off a thick cedar branch, and with the help of a couple men from the truck, he laid them across the fence opening.

Jeff wasn’t the only one interested in the cows. Pete also saw them as a survival opportunity, and knew they wouldn’t last much longer penned up in a field that offered little hope for life. Their nearest hay roll was all but gone, and the stock tank was filled with ash. Like Jeff, he didn’t see the point in just letting them die and rot in the fields. If they could help people survive, even for a few days, then they were worth their weight in gold.

After ten minutes of bumping down another dirt road, Pete saw a tree line up ahead. At first it looked like a line of bushes, but then he realized he was looking only at the tops of the trees in the distance. From his elevated vantage point, Pete was just able to make out the profile of a few train cars through the trees, and he tapped the roof to get Jeff to stop. John stuck his head out and yelled, “What do you see?”

“I can see the train from here,” said Pete, as he leaned over to John’s side of the truck.

“Really?” said John, as he climbed out to join Pete in the back of the truck. Adam followed his dad’s lead and climbed up for a look of his own. “Sure enough, but it looks like we’re still a mile out,” said
John, and then he added, “Do you think we can make it down to the valley with these vehicles?”

Pete handed John his small hunting binoculars and said, “It looks like there’s a trail over there, along that fence line, just over that rise.”

John nodded and said, “I see it. And I don’t see any more fences in front of us. I’m thinking the guy who owns this property probably owns it all the way down to the river.”

Pete reached for the binoculars and surveyed the route ahead. “Over there. It looks like the trail leads down into that shallow draw. That should take us to the valley,” said Pete. He then scanned the distant tree line, and after a moment of silent observation he said, “There’s a thin trail of smoke rising up from the trees . . . over there?” said Pete, as he held out the binoculars for John.

“I see it,” said John. “I’m thinking our train friends have taken up residence, which is good news.”

“How’s that?” asked Jeff, as he moved to sit in the driver’s side door window, “Doesn’t that mean trouble?”

“I don’t think so . . . not in this case anyway,” said John, as he handed the binos back to Pete. “But we’ll still have to approach with caution.”

“Can I take a look?” asked Jeff.

“Of course,” said John.

When Jeff and Adam were finished studying the landscape with the binoculars, everyone resumed their drive into the valley, but this time at a more deliberate pace. Much to Adam’s delight, John allowed him ride in the back of the truck, but he wasn’t happy when John told him he had to stay seated. Adam later realized that sitting was a better option when Pete was almost thrown from the truck after Jeff hit an unseen ditch.

The road into the draw was little more than a cattle trail, so Pete had to jump to the ground and guide Jeff as he drove the truck over the ledge and down. Jeff drove slowly, making his way along the deeply rutted and shale strewn trail, trying desperately not to cut a tire or
damage his truck’s undercarriage. With Pete’s help, Jeff managed to maneuver his truck over and around the washes and ruts to reach the level ground below.

Jeff managed to descend the trail without too much stress, but as soon as he stopped he jumped out to look back up the trail. He said, “Wow! Do you think we’ll make it back up?” and he followed that up with a subsequent question, “Do you think the van can make it too?”

The driver of the van must have had the same concerns because he stopped at the top of the ledge and refused to drop over the side. “It looks worse than it is, but you do have a point about getting back up,” said Pete, so he radioed for the van to stop and the truck to come down around it. When the pickup was halfway down the trail, with the driver barely managing to stay in control, Pete decided to leave the van at the top of the hill. The van’s driver insisted he could make it down, but Pete convinced him it wasn’t worth the risk. A moment later he saw two men climb out of the van with their weapons and work their way down the trail.