Frontier Justice - 01 (16 page)

“What will we do with the lawbreakers?” asked Chief Blue. “It’s not as if we can toss people in the city jail to await trial.”

“The way I see it is we really only have a few sticks,” said Mason. “For the most minor offenses, we’ll mandate some form of community service, basically giving them a second chance. We certainly have lots of work to be done. More serious crimes will lead to banishment from town. Finally, the most violent offenses, including rape and murder, will be dealt with on the spot. No trial. No second chances.”

Charlie Buttons, the owner of several ski rental stores, blurted out, “My Lord. You’re proposing some kind of brutal frontier justice.”

“That’s exactly what I’m proposing. If you’d prefer, we can have Ava and the other doctors castrate the rapists,” Mason said without the slightest hint of a smile.

“I’d be happy to,” she replied, biting her lip to suppress a grin.

“And who will kill these criminals?” demanded Charlie. “You, Marshal?”

“My deputies and I will be responsible for enforcing the law.”

“This doesn’t sound right,” said Charlie. “We’re better than this.”

“Charlie, do you have any family still alive?”

He seemed surprised by the question.

“Why, yes. My eighty-year-old mother and both my sons survived the virus.”

Mason leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

“I want you to imagine that a gang of men grabbed your eighty-year-old mother. Beat her. Raped her. And then cut her throat. Imagine that for me.”

“You’re disgusting,” Charlie sneered, staring hard at Mason.

“What would you have me do to such men?”

“That’s insane. That would never happen.”

“Or maybe one of your sons is brutalized. Evil can do unspeakable things when left unchecked. On my way into Boone this morning, I found a young man whose face had been bashed in with a hammer. His wife or girlfriend was taken, almost certainly raped and murdered. Again, I ask, what justice is fair?”

Charlie looked down at his hands resting on the table.

“I don’t know, Marshal. I’m a man of peace. I … I don’t know about these things.”

Mason’s voice softened. “We’re living in a new world, one that, for the time being, will require this frontier justice that you’ve described. It’s not something anyone should be comfortable with, but it is the only way forward.”

Hoping to diffuse the tension, Father Paul said, “Marshal Raines, can we trust that you will be judicious in your use of force?”

Mason nodded, his jaw set hard.

“You have my word that I will be only slightly more vicious than my enemy.”

CHAPTER

15

T
anner drove east on Highway 20, the red Honda Odyssey minivan slowly navigating the congested road, like a mouse working its way through an experimenter’s cruel maze. For the past ten miles, the number of abandoned cars had been steadily increasing, and, while the interstate was still passable, it never allowed him to exceed ten miles an hour.

The two rows of rear seats had been folded down, and Samantha lay resting in the back with a couple of blankets draped over her.

“It’s not very comfortable back here.”

“And yet you slept,” he said, catching her eye in the rearview mirror.

“Evidently, being in a helicopter crash makes you tired. How far have we gone?”

“About eighty miles. We’ll be coming up on the outskirts of Atlanta soon.”

Samantha climbed up into the front passenger seat, pulling one of the blankets with her.

“Are we going to drive straight through?”

“No. We’ll get on the 285 loop and go around the city.”

“Why not go through the middle? Wouldn’t it be quicker?”

“Atlanta had roughly five million people living there when this thing hit. You can imagine how bad it must be.”

“Oh, right. Okay, let’s go around.”

“At this rate, though, it will take several hours.”

She looked out the window.

“We won’t make it before dark.”

“Another reason to stay out of the city.”

After a moment, she said, “I’m sorry, but I really need a bathroom break.”

“Okay.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes. When Tanner spotted an exit that was still passable, he pulled off the interstate. A McDonald’s restaurant and two gas stations came into view. He pulled into the parking lot of the larger of the two gas stations.

“Let’s hit the restroom and maybe grab a few snacks,” he said.

They got out of the van and approached the store. Surprisingly, it was still in remarkably good shape. There were a couple of deserted cars out front, but the glass door to the store was unbroken, as were its large windows.

Tanner gave the door a push. It didn’t budge.

“Try somewhere else?” she asked.

“Give me a sec.” He went back to the van and returned with a small crowbar.

“You don’t mind breaking into places, do you?”

He cut his eyes toward her.

“If you’d rather pee in the bushes, that’s okay with me.”

“I was just making an observation.”

“Uh-huh.” Tanner slipped the blade of the pry bar between the door and the jam, and leaned into it. The doorframe bent and the bolt pulled free of the striker plate. He gave the door a gentle push, and it swung inward. “We’re in.”

“Two thieves in the night,” she muttered under her breath.

Even with the limited light remaining, it was clear that the store had been cleaned out. Shelves were mostly empty, and the glass coolers had only a few bottles lying in the bottom.

“Not much here,” he said. “Let’s hit the restroom before it gets too dark.”

He led Samantha through the store until they found the door of the women’s bathroom. “Let me check it.”

“Okay, but please hurry. I’ve really got to go.”

He swung open the door, but immediately closed it when the stink of human decomposition poured out.

“Let’s check the other one.”

She followed him to the men’s bathroom door. He opened it, and this time, there were no unusually foul odors. He stepped inside and looked around, handing the door to Samantha to hold open. The bathroom was a simple single-room unit. No one, living or dead, was inside.

“I doubt that the water will run,” he said, stepping back out.

“I’ll manage.”

Tanner grabbed an empty milk crate from the hall and wedged the door open.

“I’ll get what I can from the store.”

Less than a minute later, Samantha came out of the restroom.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes. What did you find?”

“Let’s see, I’ve got a few Slim Jim beef sticks, some licorice, and about half a dozen purple sports drinks. We can check the other store, too.”

“Let’s just keep moving.”

“Fine. Wait for me while I hit the can.”

She opened one of the drinks and began sipping it.

Tanner went into the bathroom and relieved himself. When he came back out, Samantha was gone.

He scanned the dark room to make sure that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. She was nowhere in the small store. He raced out of the building, looking left and right. A man shuffled across the dark street, carrying Samantha under his arm like a prize he’d won at the county fair. Tanner sprinted after him.

He caught up to the stranger before he had even finished crossing the four-lane road.

“Put her down!” he bellowed.

The man spun around, panting from the exertion of trying to run while carrying an eighty-pound girl. He was disfigured in a way that no man should have been able to survive, let alone endure. Deep pockmarks permanently disfigured his face like craters on the surface of the moon. His eyes were swollen and oozing a black, inky fluid from their corners.

Samantha was kicking and screaming, fighting to get free.

“Put her down,” Tanner repeated.

“You stole my daughter,” the man said, still trying to catch his breath. “Took her from me while I slept.”

Samantha finally broke free and fell to the ground. The man reached for her, but she quickly scooted away. When she was far enough away, she scrambled to her feet and ran around behind Tanner.

The man looked utterly distraught and reached out his arms to her.

“Jenny. Jenny, come here.” He took a step toward them.

Tanner struck him with a short heel palm to his chest. The man stumbled back and fell on his backside. He sat there, holding his disfigured face, crying, “Jenny, Jenny, my dearest Jenny. Where are you, Jenny?”

Tanner and Samantha slowly backed away, watching him until they made it back to their van. Without saying a word, they loaded up and drove back onto Highway 20.

When Samantha’s heart finally stopped pounding like a Japanese Taiko drum, she said, “What do you think was wrong with him?”

“The virus, I guess.”

“He scared me.”

“He was ugly enough to scare Frankenstein.”

She choked out a little laugh.

“Thank you for not killing him.”

“Huh?”

“He seemed to be a very sad man. I don’t think he needed killing.”

“Despite what you might think, I don’t go around killing people.”

“Sometimes you do.”

He sat quietly, letting her words sink in.

“Yeah,” he said, “sometimes I do.”

“Do you think …” Her voice trailed off.

“What?”

“Well, he carried me with his hands.”

“Ah, and you’re wondering if you might be infected. Is that it?”

“I don’t want to end up like him.”

“You won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“His face was scarred, not blistered like others we’ve seen.”

“So he wasn’t contagious anymore?”

“I wouldn’t think so.”

“But you’re not sure.”

“Do I look like an expert on viruses?”

“No, you look like a football player.”

“Thank you. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“So, you’re pretty sure?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure. And if I’m wrong, you’ll turn into a cheese face.” She laughed. “If I do, you will, too.”

“Maybe, but I’ll look good as a cheese face. Probably marry a cheese- face lady and have a house full of cheese-face kids.”

She smiled and looked out the window

They drove for another thirty minutes, silently witnessing the growing pandemonium of the interstate. Cars were smashed into one another, flipped upside down, and sitting at every possible angle. Tanner steered the van onto the shoulder and navigated the wreckage as best as he could, but it was becoming more and more difficult. He wasn’t entirely sure that the road would even be passable closer to the city.

Still looking out her window, Samantha said, “There are dead people inside a lot of these cars.”

“Yes.”

“And flies eating on them.”

“Don’t look if it upsets you.”

“I didn’t say it upset me.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I suppose you don’t get upset by seeing dead bodies.”

“It depends on who’s dead.”

Before she could reply, they slammed to a stop. She smacked the dash with her hand, which was the only thing that saved her head from hitting the windshield. Tanner had bumped one of the cars he had been trying to pass, and it spun around to wedge itself against the side of their van. He gave the van some gas, but the tires spun as the other car held them in place. He popped it in reverse, but again, the tires couldn’t find the necessary traction.

He opened the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To see if I can get us free.”

“But—”

“But what?”

“Nothing,” she said, leaning back against her seat.

He stepped out and walked around to the other side of the van. The car had wedged its bumper under the wheel well of the van. He squatted down and examined the damage. It looked pretty bad. Even if he could get it free, the van’s front passenger-side tire had been damaged. He couldn’t chance driving on it. He went to the Samantha’s window and motioned for her to roll it down.

“Don’t tell me,” she said. “We’re stuck.”

“We’ll need to swap to another vehicle.”

“But they all have dead people inside.”

“Then we’ll walk until we find an empty one that I can drive out of this mess.”

“But it’s almost dark.”

“I don’t really want to spend the night—,” Tanner suddenly whipped around, his hands at the ready. He peered into the darkness but saw nothing more than the death and destruction he had witnessed for the past fifty miles. The only difference was that now he was standing exposed, right in the middle of it.

“What is it?” Samantha’s voice was shaking.

“Nothing.”

“Then why did you turn around? You heard something.”

He scanned left to right and then back again. Nothing.

“Probably just a car settling.”

“Or a zombie.”

He looked at her.

“You’re afraid of zombies?”

“Everyone’s afraid of zombies.”

“I’m not,” he said, moving around to the back of the van.

“Yes you are,” she shouted out the window.

“Nope,” he said, popping open the hatch. “I eat zombies for lunch.”

“No one eats zombies,” she said, quickly stuffing her backpack with supplies. “They get eaten by zombies.”