The Dragons of Men (The Sons of Liberty Book 2) (17 page)

“Second, how badly are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” the man said quickly as he glanced his body over. “Cut up and bruised—hungry and tired like everyone else—but I think I’m fine.”

“Good,” Adam said with a pause. “Cause we can’t bring you with us if you can’t keep up.”

“What?” Gene whispered as William echoed the same. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious,” Adam replied. “Do you think we can just go around, killing anyone we meet because we don’t know them? We can’t make this trip alone. I said I want peace, you said you want vengeance. Well, you won’t ever find this vengeance you want so badly unless we find those who might help us.”

“I meant soldiers, Adam. Not strangers who might have been trying to sign our death warrant.”

“Gene,” Adam began, “all I’m saying is that we can’t hope to kill Lukas Chambers if we can’t help those who share our common enemy.”

“You’re going to kill Lukas Chambers?” the man asked, nearly stunned. Gene looked sideways at William before shaking his head and beginning to raise his pistol once more. “No, stop. I hate Lukas Chambers! He’s the reason this all happened. Listen, I know you don’t know me, but I hate that son of a bitch. I’ll do anything to prove it!”

“Now it sounds like you’re just trying to convince me that—”

“I’ll do anything you want,” the man replied. “You let me live and you let me come with you, and I swear I’ll do everything you ask me to until he’s dead.”

“Bold words for someone who’s never hurt a soul before,” Gene replied.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t,” the man said. “Especially the president or whatever the hell he calls himself now. Like you said, it’s the world we’re living in.”

“Adam, we don’t know this man,” Gene said, shaking his head. “We can’t—”

“We’re not going to kill him,” Adam interjected. “I said it before and I’ll say it again. I can’t lose this part of me.”

“And how do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“I don’t,” Adam said, shifting his gaze toward the man. “But he’s going to have weeks to convince us all. Now until then, we’re going to retie his wrists, wrap his fingers so he can’t use them, and stick a pack of our gear on his back—but not until he helps dig Max’s grave. We can’t let him hold a gun but he can be a mule for the time being. It looks like we won’t be doing much driving in the near future unless we find a new ride. I say we head southwest toward Bryson City and get the supplies Elizabeth had hidden there. We can stay in the mountains and out of sight until we find a vehicle to get us there.”

Gene paused before murmuring a curse under his breath. “He’s your responsibility,” Gene said harshly. “And if we have to put down another sick dog, you’re the one who’s pulling the trigger. Lev! Get the blocks of Semtex out of the back of the Humvee. We’ll need to block the other side of the tunnel before we….”

Gene’s words faded as he walked back to the wrecked Humvee. William shook his head and began to follow. Marc and Lev were carrying Max’s body over to the side of the road.

“Thank you,” the man said. “I promise I’ll—”

“Shut up and listen to me,” Adam interjected harshly. “I didn’t save you for your own sake. I’m on the verge of losing what little good I have left in me. Now you’re going to help us bury our friend and then we’re going to zip-tie your wrists and bind your fingers. Once we’re done with that, you’re going to do
everything
I tell you.”

“Okay,” the man said. “I owe you my life.”

“You just might,” Adam replied coldly. “Now you said you’ve never hurt anyone?”

“No sir,” the man said as William returned with some cord and began to tie the man’s wrists.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” Adam asked.

“No!” the man shouted. “I’ve never hurt anyone.”

“Well that might change if you become one of us,” Adam said. “I’m not one to kill in cold blood, but I’ll do what it takes to survive the heat of battle. And make no mistake, with the enemies that we have, you’re going to live in the heat of battle more than you care for. We’ve been through a lot and it’s only going to get worse. Now you think you can handle all that?”

The man nodded his head slowly as William finished. William rose, nodding to Adam, before walking off to join the others. The others were scavenging through whatever supplies they could from the ruined vehicles and dead men, but Adam could tell they were about ready to set out.

“Last thing, before we go,” Adam said, turning back to the stranger. “What’s your name? And don’t lie to me cause’ we have ways of finding out the truth. The moment we find out you’re lying is the moment I have to tell my friend back there that he was right about you.”

The other man swallowed hard, fear filling his eyes as he glanced over at Gene. He turned back to Adam, clearing his throat.

“Edward,” the man said. “Edward Christoff.”

C
hapter
F
ive

Every Beating Heart

Sarah slowly ambled forward, glancing around tiredly as she shivered with the cold night. Her blackened shoes stirred the ashes and snow underfoot as they neared the burned out ruins of the Medical Center at Robins Air Force Base ninety miles southeast of Atlanta. The bright moon overhead cast shadows across a landscape of undistinguishable buildings, illuminating the steel skeletons that dotted the base like unburied corpses. Her eyelids fluttered heavily as she shuffled onward, her legs numb from the constant walking and occasional running. Her body was begging for a break from the eighteen days of hard travel since leaving Fayetteville and the old world behind.

Eric, Rick, and Judah entered the building first through a hole in the outer wall. Fire had darkened the brick above the jagged gap. While the fires had likely stopped smoldering a couple of days ago, the pungent odor of smoke continued to linger in the air. The men flipped on the flashlights that had been attached to their weapons, scanning the dark corridors inside. After a few moments, Eric turned back to the girls and motioned for them to enter.

Elizabeth entered first, followed by Judi, the younger girls, Alexandra, and finally Sarah at the rear. They crisscrossed the dim hallways for a of couple minutes before finding a room large enough for them all to hunker down and rest without kicking one another in their sleep. Eric set his bag down and Alexandra quickly set her own pack down next to his. Judah tossed his heavy bag next to Alexandra’s. The teenage girl glanced at Judah’s pack and just as he was about to sit down, she grabbed her bag and moved to the other side of Eric, leaving Judah to lower himself slowly without a word.

Sarah shook her head and nearly laughed.

Alexandra had said very little the first week they traveled together. The little she had said usually ended broken up by her sobs and more than one night they had been forced to quiet her screams. Eventually, Alexandra had passed her hysterical grief and opened up, revealing her story.

Her father had been an American traveling through Europe when he met her Greek mother many years ago. Her parents had married, raising Alexandra and her two siblings in Greece until a decade ago when her father moved them all to America. Alexandra wasn’t even eight at the time, but she vividly remembered the fights her parents would have with each other every night. Her mother had wanted to return to Greece shortly after they arrived and her father had wanted to avoid that country and its economic turmoil at all costs. In the end, that cost came in the form of her parents divorcing—her mother moving back to her homeland with Nadia while Alexandra and her twin brother Micah were raised by her father in North Carolina.

Alexandra’s older sister eventually moved back to the United States on a scholarship to pursue a doctoral degree. Even though Nadia had been back stateside for a couple of years, she had remained estranged from her father the entire time. Alexandra said her sister had never quite forgiven her father for letting the family fall apart and she hadn’t seen Nadia in well over a year. Alexandra was seventeen now, only a few months older than Judah, and Nadia was the last of her family within reach. Sarah and the others had listened to the girl share the story of her family’s fragmented past, hoping against reason that the last of the family this girl had in the United States might still be alive. The plan was to travel straight west until they reached the Republic of Texas, though they’d deviate south toward the Gulf to find a ship if the Imperium continued to gain ground on them. They had promised Alexandra that they would then go to central Arkansas to help her find her sister once they had found a safe haven, though no one dared mention the fact that her sister was likely elsewhere or dead.

Alexandra had practically latched on to Eric, saving the few smiles she had been willing to give for him alone. Eric—thirteen years older than her at the age of thirty—was clearly uncomfortable with the entire situation. Still, it was easy for Sarah to tell why the girl shadowed him. He was strong, capable, good-looking, and Sarah couldn’t blame the younger girl. After all, more than once she had forced herself to divert her eyes when he smiled.

And that was one of the few things that had bothered Sarah so much over the past few weeks. She wasn’t even three weeks past the news of her husband’s death and she was already catching herself gazing at an attractive man almost as thoughtlessly as Alexandra. Sure, Eric was a warrior that Sarah was grateful to have under the circumstances, but he wasn’t Adam. She had been married to Adam for years, loving him with all her heart for the entirety of their marriage. Though his death had brought an overwhelming sense of grief, she had given herself only that first night to mourn. It was almost as though she knew she didn’t have time to look back at her old life and weep. The world had been transformed and her kids now relied on her strength to survive.

“Listen up,” Eric said quietly, eyeing Elizabeth and Sarah’s younger two girls who already slept. “Rick, I know you’re about to fall over, but I need you to stay awake for a little longer.”

“I can manage,” Rick said, though his eyelids drooped heavily. “Just bring the coffee if you find any.”

“Forget coffee,” Elizabeth said, pulling her white scarf from her neck and tossing it to the floor. “One of these days I’m going to make you my famous apple pie. Dash of sugar, a pinch of love, and I’ll give you something that’ll keep you up daydreaming.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Eric replied. “I’d be happy just to find Rick’s coffee. Sarah, you stay here and stay awake as well. Don’t let him fall asleep. Judi, Elizabeth, Alexandra—you all get some rest for now. Judah and I are going to look for food and supplies. I know everyone is exhausted, but we can’t stop for long.”

“Are we just going to keep hopping from one base to another forever?” Judi asked, taking her makeshift shoes off to massage her blistering feet.

“Forever’s a long freakin’ time,” Eric replied with a forced grin. “We’re bound to find refuge sooner or later. Until then, we keep moving and trust no one, except the United States military if we find them.”

“You’ve seen what we’ve all seen, Eric,” Elizabeth said, startling everyone with the fact that she wasn’t actually sleeping. “Every base was bombed just like this one. I’m sorry, but they’re all gone. The United States military doesn’t exist anymore.”

“No, the
United States
doesn’t exist anymore,” Eric replied. “American soldiers are not the type to abandon those in need and I refuse to believe they’d all sit this fight out.”

“How do you know they wouldn’t all just flee with their loved ones?”

“Because they’re brothers,” Eric replied. “Sucker punching a few of them doesn’t mean those left standing will now flee because they’re afraid of taking one to the jaw as well. If anything, Lukas just angered a brotherhood of killers. Part of me pities the man for what they’ll do to him once he’s captured.”

“Well, whether or not you think we’re going to find anyone that might help us,” Sarah began, “Judah isn’t going with you.”

“Sarah, please don’t—”

“I can use a gun and I’m not letting my boy put himself in danger.” Sarah turned to Judah and Alexandra, speaking before Eric could argue. “Now why don’t you two talk and get to know one another for a change. You both have barely said a word to each other since we left North Carolina. Hang out and talk to one another like normal teenagers and if Rick starts to dose off, you have my permission to throw something heavy at him.” Rick smiled back, his cheeks pushing up heavy eyes. Sarah took a deep breath, grabbed one of the pistols from Judah, and turned to Eric. “And don’t you think you can argue with me. I’m coming with you and that’s that.”

Eric reluctantly nodded, turning to Judah and Alexandra. “Alright, why don’t you two practice that Morse Code I’ve been teaching you and get some sleep? We’ll be back in a bit.”

Eric led the way out of the room and into the dark halls beyond. They began checking every room they passed, looking for anything they could use. They spoke little at first, focusing on the task of gathering whatever looked useful. By the time they had made their rounds through the main building and moved into an adjacent structure, the only food they had found was an uneaten bag of stale salt and vinegar chips. As horrid as they tasted, Eric stuffed them into his bag. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and in war, those with particular tastes either adjusted their appetite accordingly or died hungry.

Eric entered a large break room, walking over to the cabinets and sifting through them. Sarah approached a corner desk, opening the drawers and searching for anything of value. Most everything left inside consisted of pens, paper, computer cords, and other basic office supplies. She noticed the curve of a thin wooden box underneath a few binders in a bottom drawer. Curious, she pulled it free from the desk. It was small, elegant, and out of place compared to the desk’s other contents. She turned it over in her hands slowly before opening the lid.

Something small and metal fell from the box, landing on her feet and bouncing under the desk. Inside the box was a hand written note and a picture of a woman—her head bald, face beaming.

Don’t let death destroy us both. Keep this with you and know that I’ll love you forever.

Sarah smiled as she read the note, wondering if the woman in the picture had succumbed to cancer. She lowered herself to the floor, reaching under the desk to grab whatever had fallen from the box. When her fingers finally located the object, she lifted it up and raised her flashlight. It was a small black medallion—polished with a leather cord looped through a hole at its top. A silver cross filled its center while a flowing script encircled the image. She didn’t know what it said, but she smiled as she rubbed her thumb across its smooth surface. It was a beautiful medallion, intended to bring love and comfort.

Sarah thought about keeping it as she stared at the medallion, wondering if whoever it had been given to was alive or not. If they had been a soldier or doctor at the base, they very well would have died in the attack or fled months before. In any case, she doubted they would be coming back and wondered if it might be something useful to trade on the road.

At the far end of the room, Eric opened a refrigerator door, shining his flashlight inside as he poked his head in. After no more than a second, he slammed the door shut, coughing as a rancid stench quickly filled the room. Sarah covered her nose when the sour smell hit her.

“What the heck was that?” Sarah asked, fighting the urge to vomit.

“It looked like a congratulations cake,” Eric replied, smiling and gagging at the same time. “So moldy that the woman’s face on the front had a beard and thick eyebrows that were damn near alive and crawling.”

Sarah burst out laughing, coughing while she chuckled. A few moments passed with them standing there, laughing in a dark, foul-smelling room. It felt good—like a release of pressure that had burrowed deep inside her shoulders. Eric’s laughter slowed and changed into a warm smile that touched his eyes. Sarah quieted too, meeting his eyes with her own smile, before lowering her gaze.

Look at you,
Sarah thought.
Adam’s only been dead a couple of weeks! What would he have thought if he—

“Thank you, Eric,” she said, interrupting the voice that had been screaming at her from within.

“Well I didn’t mean to make you laugh,” Eric replied with a grin. “I can’t take all the credit.”

“Not just that,” Sarah said, forcing herself to remain standing where she was and not approach him. “I can’t imagine trying to survive all that’s happened without your help. You’ve saved us this far, and for that you will always have my thanks.”

Eric nodded before lowering his eyes to the box in her hands. “What’s that?”

“I found it in the desk,” Sarah replied, examining the box. “We might be able to sell it or trade it for something useful. It looks pretty ornate. Found a medallion too, though I’m not sure we should get rid of it.”

“Why is that?” Eric asked.

Sarah hesitated before tossing it over to him, smiling in the low light as he snatched it out of the air.

“Because I think it would look good on you.”

Eric held the medallion up and smiled, his eyes shifting back to her. He hesitated before tucking the medallion away in his pocket and moving back through the door—passing by her slowly as he moved into the dark hallway outside of the break room. Sarah followed and the two stopped next to a large window that overlooked the dark base beyond.

“Adam was a good man,” Eric said quietly.

His words stung, though she knew they had not been meant to cause her pain. “Yes he was,” Sarah said after a pause, fighting back the tears that came. “I miss him.”

“So do I. He was a great leader, you know. He was willing to make the hard decisions no one else would. Despite everything Lukas had done, Adam still just wanted to save the nation. Had I been in his shoes, all I would have wanted was to see Lukas dead, but I don’t think vengeance was something he had in him.”

“Maybe we should have tried that,” Sarah replied blankly. “Maybe we should have killed Lukas like Gene had wanted.”

“If only you knew how much I wanted to see Lukas Chambers die,” Eric said. “That man…well, one way or another, someone is going to make sure Lukas sees justice and that’s all Adam cared about. Not the personal satisfaction of watching his enemy die, but justice. It’s a quality most leaders lack. I know he never mentioned anything about this—at least not to me—but he would have made a damn good president. Part of me was hoping for it.”