Surviving the Dead (Book 7): The Killing Line (11 page)

“Yeah, I guess. It’s overrun now.”

“It wasn’t much to see
before
it burned to the ground. In fact, L.A. is probably the one place the Outbreak actually improved. It was already full of the walking dead. The Phage just made things official.”

“Can we stay on topic?” Eric said. “You’re not weaseling out of this one, Gabe.”

I waited until my tea finished steeping. Eric sat back in his chair and stared placidly. He was getting good at waiting me out, and Sabrina was starting to pick up the trick as well. I pulled the tea from my cup and set it on the counter. Even used, it still commanded a good price.

“First thing you should know, both of you, is Elizabeth will not be running for reelection this year.”

Eric blinked twice and leaned forward. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Why not?”

“Because she doesn’t want to.”

Eric went through a few false starts and gesticulations. “So who’s going to be the mayor?”

“Will Laurel will probably run.”

“The captain of the guard?”

“Only Will Laurel I know.”

“Who else?”

“Sarah Glover mentioned she might be interested. I doubt she would win, though. Will has lived here a long time. But I think she’ll be the next sheriff when Walter Elliott retires. Either one is a good choice. Town can’t go wrong whichever way they vote.”

Eric’s mouth hung open. He tilted his head to the side like a confused dog and wrinkled his brow. “Okay. As interesting as that is, what does it have to do with the price of salt in the wasteland?”

I sipped my tea. “Clever, Eric. I see what you did there.”

“Just answer the fucking question.”

I let out a long breath and did my best not to stare at the table. “Sabrina, you ever been to Colorado Springs?”

“No.”

“Shit,” Eric said, drawing the word out. “You gotta be kidding me.”

Contrary to popular belief, he really is a bright fellow.

“I think it’s time, old friend.”

“Why now? After all this time, after all we’ve done, why now?”

I glanced meaningfully at Sabrina. She looked confused.

“Does Elizabeth know?” Eric asked. 

“It’s why she’s not running for reelection.”

“So she’s going with you.”

I nodded.

Eric said another four-lettered word and inclined his head toward Sabrina. “Might want to discuss it with her.”

Sabrina looked at Eric, then at me. “Would someone please explain to me what the hell you two are talking about?”

“I’m leaving Hollow Rock and Elizabeth is coming with me.”

Sabrina went still. She did not speak for several seconds. “Okay. Where does that leave me?”

“Wherever you want to be. If you want to stay here, you can. This house will be yours, I’ll give you enough trade so you won’t have to worry, and you can work for Eric. You’ll be safe here.”

There was a tremor in her voice. “And if I don’t want to stay?”

“You can come with us.”

The relief on her face hit me like a thrown knife. She began to tremble. I stood up and walked around the table so I could kneel next to her. When I gathered her into my arms, she did not resist.

“You know, Gabe,” Eric said, “not to criticize your parenting style, but you probably should have led off with that last part.”

I held my daughter as she put her face against my chest, squeezed her arms around me, and worked to control her breathing. “Yeah. Sorry about that, sweetheart.”

“You scared the shit out of me. I thought you wanted to leave me here.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Never.”

Eric stood up. “We’ll talk later.”

One of Eric’s better qualities is that he never stays angry for long.

He was calmer the next day, having discussed the situation with Allison, and questioned me at length as to what led me to my decision.

“We got a good thing going here, Gabe,” he’d said.

“I know.”

“So why walk away?”

“It’s not so much walking away as branching out. I’m going to retain my half of the business, less the ten percent interest I’m selling to Great Hawk.”

“He told me about that. He’s buying part of my stake as well.”

“Good.”

“But you’re leaving town.”

“Yes.”

“After all we’ve done to make Hollow Rock a safe place to live.”

I did not answer.

“You’ve got a lot invested in this place.”

“I know.”

“I can’t leave. Allison likes it here, and the baby is too young to travel.”

“I know.”

Eric stood up and began to pace around his living room. I sat in the recliner and stared at the blank, empty face of the big-screen TV. Now that Eric had electricity, he had connected a DVD player and we had watched a few movies on it.
The Usual Suspects
was one of my favorites. It was refreshing to see the pre-Outbreak world as I remembered it.

“We’ve been through so much shit together I don’t even know where to start,” Eric said.

“I think the day I bought the cabin from you would be a good place.”

He stopped pacing and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah. I guess it would.”

“We made the right decision leaving.”

“Yes. Despite everything that’s happened since, I agree. It was time to move on.”

“So maybe you get why I want to move to the Springs.”

Eric’s hand rasped across his beard stubble. “No, I’m afraid I still don’t. What’s the Springs got that Hollow Rock doesn’t?”

I reached into my inside jacket pocket and handed him the tube with the letter in it.

“What’s this?” He opened the tube and unfurled the letter.

“A letter from Hadrian Flint, director of operations for the Blackthorn Company.”

Eric read the letter slowly. I watched his eyes go back to the top of the sheet and he read it again.

“Is this authentic?”

“Spike gave his word it came from Flint himself. Check the signet seal.”

Eric pressed the two broken pieces of wax together and let out a low whistle. “Looks pretty authentic to me.”

“It’s a good opportunity. Perfect, in fact. No more salvaging, no more covert missions, no more risking my neck every time I turn around. My entire adult life, all I’ve known is fighting. I’m tired, Eric. I’m not getting any younger, and I want what you have—a family.”

“You already have a family.”

“Not officially. I want to make my adoption of Sabrina legal, and I want to marry Elizabeth.”

“You can do that here.”

“True, but I can’t train Blackthorns from Hollow Rock. It’s a good, steady job they’re offering me. Good pay. The salt I own is only about a third of my net worth. I can have the rest shipped over in installments. But the salt alone will be enough to buy us a nice house, invest in a few businesses, buy some farm land, that kind of thing. The work will keep me busy while I build wealth and influence.”

“I have a concern.”

“What?”

Eric looked at the letter again. “Says here you were recommended to Flint by a major client. The only guy we know in the Springs who fits that description is General Jacobs. And out of all the people Jacobs could have recommended, he picked you.”

“And?”

“And Jacobs has wanted you to be his personal attack dog for years now. You don’t think he’s doing this just to get you closer to him, try to exert some pressure?”

“I’m a big boy, Eric. I can handle Jacobs.”

“He can make a lot of trouble for you if he wants to.”

“Let him try. I’ll bury his ass.”

“You’re serious? You’d kill the head of Army Special Operations?”

“If I have to. I’ve done worse things.”

Eric shook his head and gave me the letter back. I rolled it up and slipped it back into my jacket.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

I flashed a smile. “Nah. I just make shit up as I go.”

*****

I had to concede to a few demands.

Elizabeth wanted an actual
wedding, not just the announcement and small celebration most people do these days. I told her that could be arranged. She then said she wanted a spring wedding. I said that was fine, but we would have to do it in Colorado.

“Can’t we postpone the trip until after the wedding? Maybe mid-April?”

“Sure,” I said. “Long as you don’t mind dodging infected and marauders all the way across Kansas. Spring is the high season for both. Whereas, if we leave in mid-February, the undead will be frozen and most marauders will be hunkered down for the winter.”

“Good point.”

Sabrina, for her part, wanted a custom-forged, two-handed minasbad sword and her own M-4. I told her the rifle was not a problem, but I had no idea what a minasbad was. She found a picture of one at the public library and showed it to me. Turns out it is a traditional weapon found in the Philippines—which makes sense considering her background in Kali—basically a medium length sword with a profile similar to my falcata, only straight rather than forward-swept and boasting a sharper tip. Good for both chopping and stabbing. I told her I’d commission the weapon, but I was taking the expense out of her allowance.

“What allowance?”

“The one you won’t be getting for a couple of years to pay for that sword.”

Her eyes widened and she tilted her head to the side. “But what about all the birthdays and Christmases you missed?”

I tried not to wince.
Damn, she really knows how to twist the knife.
“Fine. But after this, we’re even.”

“Can I still have the rifle?”

“Whether you want one or not. And you’re going to train with it under my supervision until I feel comfortable with your proficiency.”

She kissed me on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

Elizabeth watched the exchange sitting in my living room with a little smile on her lips. She laughed quietly.

“What?”

“You are in so much trouble.”

I watched my daughter walk away and thought,
Yes. I am in a lot of trouble. And I don’t care.

The last person I had to appease was Eric. And by appease, I mean listen with growing frustration while he told me what he was going to do whether I approved of it or not.

“I’m going with you,” he told me. We were at my house, it was late evening on January 19
th
, and he had brought over a bottle of the pre-Outbreak stuff. Jameson’s Irish, to be specific.

“That’s not necessary, Eric.”

“No shit. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“You have a wife and son. It’s going to be a dangerous trip.”

“No shit. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Spike’s caravan is one of the biggest and most heavily-armed running between here and Colorado. There will be plenty of guards, all capable people.”

“You know, I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

“Then don’t.”

Eric took a slug of whisky, breathed deep, and let it out through his nose. “Also, I hired Caleb to come along.”

“Caleb Hicks?”

“You know another guy named Caleb?”

“Isn’t he still on active duty?”

“For another eighteen months.”

“And isn’t Echo Company rotating back to Fort Bragg in the spring?”

“That’s the plan, from what I hear. But you know how the Army is. Plans have a way of changing without notice or explanation.”

I sipped my whisky and pondered that. “How’d you pull it off?”

“The usual method.”

“So you bribed Captain Harlow.”

“He is a greedy man, full of vice and iniquity.”

“How much did he take you for?”

“Two pounds of sugar and fifty pounds of seed potatoes.”

I wrinkled my brow and stared over my glass. “The sugar I get. But seed potatoes?”

Eric shrugged. “That’s what he asked for.”

“Is he starting his own farm or something?”

“Maybe. Makes sense, I guess. If he can feed his troops by farming, it would save him a boat load on expenditures. Which, I’m sure, he would find some way to launder into his own pocket.”

“You really think he’d do that?”

“I know you haven’t been paying much attention to what goes on at Fort McCray, but I have. And let me tell you, military service is rapidly becoming an entrepreneurial pursuit.”

I drank some more whisky. My glass was now empty, so I motioned for Eric to fill it again. “That is monumentally depressing.”

“Indeed. But, as in all things, there are opportunities.”

“Where’d you get the potatoes?”

“My farm co-op.”

“You buy ‘em?”

“Didn’t have to. First thing I had the co-op folks do when I set them up on my land was build a couple of greenhouses. Provided the materials and everything. They’ve been growing seed potatoes since the first week of September. Just harvested the first batch a few weeks ago. About three-hundred pounds’ worth.”

“Impressive. From what I understand of potato farming, they don’t grow all that well in greenhouses.”

“No, they don’t. We had to get creative.”

“Don’t they also need sulfur and fertilizer?”

“Yes. The sulfur was the easy part. Remember that home and garden place we raided last year?”

“Yes.”

“Had tons of the stuff. Literally.”

“What about the fertilizer?”

“Co-op folks had their own.”

“Where’d they get it?”

“Let’s just say nothing goes to waste with those people. Absolutely
nothing
.”

“Ah. Understood. So why Hicks?”

“He volunteered.”

“Excuse me?”

Another sip, another long breath. “Man this is good stuff. Anyway, we were having drinks a couple days after you told me you were abandoning me, and I was lamenting my woes to our mutual friend. When I mentioned the Blackthorns, and that you were taking a job with them, he got real intense all of a sudden. Like he took off that fake goofy veneer and I was seeing the real Caleb.”

“I know exactly what you mean. Seen him do the same thing.”

“Right. So he asks me if I’m going with you, and I tell him yes. He says is there any way we can work it out so he can come with us, and I tell him maybe, but it would be expensive. He says he has saved a lot of trade, and he can pay me back, whatever the cost. At this point I’m getting a little curious, so I ask him why he’s so fired up about tagging along. Want to take a guess what he told me?”

I held my hands out in a ‘how the hell should I
know?’ gesture.

“Turns out he knows Tyrel Jennings.”

“
The
Tyrel Jennings? As in, the founder and managing partner of the Blackthorn Security Company?”

“The very same.”

“How’s he know that guy?”

“He was kind of mum on the subject—you know how he is—but I gathered Tyrel was a friend of the family, or something to that effect. Known the guy since he was six years old. Worked together for a while in the Springs doing salvage work. Then he got in trouble and had to join the Army. Hasn’t seen Jennings since.”

I shook my head and chuckled. “Small world.”

“And getting smaller.”

“Well that explains Hicks. What about you? Why do you want to come?”

“Several reasons.”

“Such as?”

“For starters, I really want to see the Springs for myself. I’ve heard so much about it, but I’ve never been there.”

“Okay. What else?”

“We do business via caravans with folks from the Springs all the time. But I’ve never met any of them face to face.”

“Which is probably for the best.”

“Maybe, maybe not. If I can get in good with them, which shouldn’t be too hard considering how much trade they’ve made off of us, maybe I can find other opportunities. Expand operations, take on new lines of business.”

“Like what?”

“Farming co-ops need capital. I have plenty of that to loan. And manufacturing is a lucrative field.”

“If you can find the necessary resources.”

“And the necessary people. Artisans are rare and valuable. But there are a lot of people living in Colorado, and I’m willing to bet with the proper training they could learn a trade.”