The Killin' Fields (Alexa's Travels Book 2) (7 page)

Alexa swung, sliced, ducked and switched to the next monster, but inside, it hurt her to end these former humans. They’d been people once and she hadn’t forgotten that.

Paul stayed down and still, hoping not to have to fight, but the undead always preferred easy prey. It was usually the elderly or the kids they attacked to make up for slow wits and even slower reflexes.

A cold, hard hand brushed Paul’s hair and he scrambled forward to avoid it, screaming.

The zombie was mostly a skeleton under a checkered dress and Paul continued to scream as she crawled toward him on her remaining knee.

Daniel and Billy had hands and teeth lunging for their ankles, and the two men stabbed their knives down into skulls and necks. They went to help Alexa, and found five undead corpses at her feet. Edward and Mark were right behind her, handling the half-dozen targets that had tried a rear ambush.

Gore splattered over the corn, soaking into the ground under the group, and the zombies dwindled to random figures that the group quickly dispatched to the afterlife, all vaguely aware of Paul screaming behind them.

As the fight finished, Alexa and her men scanned the corn and the battlefield for more threats.

“Damn.”

They all turned in surprise at Jacob’s curse.

Paul had ended a zombie, in his own lap. His computer, which he’d refused to leave, was in pieces. He had used it to shatter the zombie’s skull and save himself.

“Well, ain’t that interesting,” Mark drawled snidely. He quickly reloaded. “Now if he would only learn to be quiet!” The convict spat toward the shaking scientist. “You’re screaming would have brought all of them to us if there had been a herd. You’re gonna keep endangering her, Rabbit.”

“Stop.” Alexa didn’t offer Paul comfort, but she halted the coming fight. She was also surprised that the scientist was alive after all the screaming they’d heard, but fate was fate and she wasn’t going to second-guess her own choices. It was a sign though, that he wasn’t supposed to die yet, and she motioned Edward to care for him as they got set to leave.

While she waited, Alexa ripped the talisman from the wizard’s bloody robe and shoved it into her cloak. She knew her men were curious about the things she was gathering, but they would find out in time. Alexa hated to waste words on something that would be revealed naturally anyway. She’d inherited that trait from her father.

4

An hour after killing the wizard, they reached a clearing with edges of tall, rusted buildings covered in crow shit. Alexa had timed their arrival at the first waiting station with the longest part of the day, the lazy time when sleep snuck up and stole the ability to react quickly.

She waved her men into that tight V formation, and felt them all respond by checking their gear for the next battle. In the center, Paul shivered with nervous tension and weariness. The fight with the zombie had worn him out.

“Hello in the camp!”

The wait station appeared to be an old equestrian farm set in a huge circle, with a dozen wide corrals, barns, and sheds twinkling in the dim morning sun. The vegetation had been pushed nearly ten feet from this weathered circle of civilization, but there were no fences around the gathering point for wary travelers. That was clearly a mistake. The animal tracks the fighters stepped over were fresh, dangerous in their sheer size.

As they came from the corn, all movement in the station ceased except for heads following their progress. Conversations abruptly stopped and a thick silence replaced them. The sight of Alexa brought immediate flashes of the war and all its horrors, but also of the legends, of Safe Haven. The expressions said these people both loathed and loved the sight of Alexa’s group. She lent a strength that increased the odds of survival. The strangers wanted to be able to get on the road finally. They’d been here a long time, but the loathing was for the same reason. No one was anticipating the coming trek, and some were even hoping that she too might delay here for a while.

Alexa straightened her shoulders, jaw set in a determined clench and the expressions of love and loathing changed to dread and resignation. Stay a few days and rest? Not her. The only question was when she would depart.

“Look around, my pets,” Alexa instructed. “Remember what you see.”

The fighters assumed she meant the people and they did as she said, picking out details.

In the large center warehouse, the Army men went in and out, working. On what, none of them knew yet. In a small shed behind the warehouse, an old woman and her grandkids were resting, depending on the protection of the soldiers who ran this station. In front of the barn was a prep building where a group of slave traders and their guards had ensconced their precious male wares. Beside the slave nest was a map scriber bunking in a smaller barn with three gunfighters that he’d likely hired for protection. They had a prisoner nearby in a wooden wagon cell, shackled and covered with bruises. It was a curiosity.

In that cell, the thief stared in longing at the playing children, hands clenched into tight fists. Their laughter aroused and repulsed him until it was a very good thing he was in a cell.

Alexa noted that all of the travelers wore thick layers of dark clothes and hats that blended well with the corn. They’d obviously spent enough time here to make a few things to soften the hard trip. Had their captive been caged all that time?

The shed to the left housed three government messengers on their way to the government’s eastern headquarters with explosive dispatches. All mail carriers now strapped C-4 around their documents and then placed it around their chests. Trying to steal the letters ended in destroyed messages and a dead mailman.

On the farthest side of the station, three families were going about their daily lives in front of tents and wagons, and it took Edward a minute of watching to finish estimating the number of people here. He would spend time later observing each group, judging, getting details to verify his assumptions.

“Fifty or so. I expected less,” Edward observed.

“Maybe they heard Lincoln was holding on,” Billy suggested.

“Is it good or bad to have so many?” Jacob asked, seeing one of the families had a slave washing clothes outside their tent. He could tell by the ugly tattoo on the thin man’s cheek.

“If you’re in the middle, it might be great,” Alexa quipped.

Edward forced a smile. “True.” He’d also seen the slave family, but it was the traders he glared at as they walked through the gawking station of travelers.

Their last days of giants, zombies, a wizard had taken a small toll that was well hidden except for Paul, who didn’t understand that jokes were a great coping mechanism for nerves. He still thought complaining was the best way to go.

“You missed a few on the count,” Alexa said, subtly calming them.

“Where?” Edward asked, scanning the slaver’s shelter harder. He’d only counted five pieces of property there.

“Out patrolling, and under the main barn. They have a couple stashed. Women who tried to pass, I assume,” Alexa stated.

That sent anger through their group and Alexa was satisfied. She didn’t know for sure that all the females she’d sensed were being held against their will, but at least one of them was. Her silent misery had been impossible to miss during Alexa’s mental sweep of the area.

“We’ll have to do something about that while we’re here,” Edward said, turning his menace toward the mapmaker and his three gunfighters.

“When they let them out to play,” Alexa answered, leading her men to the center warehouse as the watching travelers gaped and whispered. “Be careful of the slavers, as well. They used to be carnival owners. They often take their captives from the audiences.”   

Activity around the station resumed slowly, but the whispers grew louder. Some of it was muttered orders to get packed, but some of it was about how healthy, how hard, her men were. The slaves being guarded nearby in comparison were pale, fragile creatures that squinted and had little grace. Alexa’s men were the opposite of that and more. They were clearly unbroken. The rest of the talk was excitement about being in the same camp as the legend herself when she faced down the soldiers here. It was something that had to happen.

Alexa used their hand code to pass an order, and Edward fell in next to Paul. “She wants you to be silent. If you talk at all, she says I’m to knock you out.”

Paul paled and stumbled, and Edward jerked him along. He wasn’t sure what Alexa was worried about Paul saying, but he had no doubt the clumsy scientist would spill his guts if he were left unsupervised.

“Wait here,” Alexa ordered as they came to the ramp that led to the main door of the warehouse.

The soldier on duty there lowered his rifle and then let it hang by the strap after he caught sight of Alexa and her group.

The rest of her group stayed by the ramp as Mark went with Alexa. No one else would go up until she was done here. As for whoever might already be inside, Mark and Alexa were a dangerous pair all by themselves.

Paul’s gaze followed them through the door that was plastered on the inside with wanted posters, and opened his mouth as he recognized one of the wrinkled faces.

Watching and hoping it would happen, Edward raised his big arm, and Paul snapped his mouth shut so fast that his teeth clicked together like a firecracker.

Edward lowered his arm, shrugging. “I have faith.”

5

Alexa stepped by the man on duty at the door with his rifle, giving him only a disinterested glance. She opened the inner door before anyone spoke and ignored the words and mutters of the dozens of people already gathered at this station.

“She can’t go in there.”

“Doesn’t she know they’re looking for her?”

“Look at those males!”

Alexa went to the rear of the wide warehouse, admiring the small cluster of horses in the corner. She called softly to them as she passed by.

Mark followed Alexa alertly, aware of soldiers coming from the far rooms and the loft above them.

The warehouse was stacked with crates and boxes that appeared to have been there since the war. The layers of dust and prints in said grit said this was more of a drop off than a pickup area. There was little the military liked more than storing supplies and then denying everyone their use.

Alexa glanced toward a small trap door in the floor, much like the one they’d ripped up in the giant’s home.

Mark caught the hint and listened for the female captives they assumed were down there, but he didn’t hear anything.

Alexa stopped at a long row of counters, choosing the one that was labeled for sales. The clerk behind the counter gaped in surprised curiosity at the sight so many obviously free men in one group. The posters of people the government was offering rewards for stood out glaringly behind the kid.

Alexa scanned his wrinkled uniform and thin frame, trying to judge how long this group had been here. “I need tickets to cross the state.”

The Private swallowed, hand reaching for the radio. “I have to clear that. Hey, you look familiar. Been through here before?”

Alexa shrugged as the young clerk radioed to someone named Zale for permission.

“Uh, I got a big group asking for a ticket.”

The voice that came sounded annoyed and tired. “Damn it, Brian! Sell ‘em what they want and leave me alone.”

Brian flushed and responded, “You got it.”

He sat the radio down and began gathering the papers. Pale and pimply, the young, fatigue-wearing blond clerk didn’t exude confidence, but there was something about him…

The radio lit up. “Ask if they have any tobacco for trade.”

Brian glanced at Alexa, who shook her head. She was buy digging into Brian’s thoughts and finding interesting tidbits.

“We’re not selling or buying.”

Brian stared at her, mesmerized at the sound of her voice as she leaned in.

“We’re going in at dawn. Spread the word.”

Brian nodded, heart thumping. She was here! “Sure. That’s what a lot of people…”

Alexa turned, waving at Mark to gather their tickets. The clerk reeked of death and betrayal. She couldn’t stand to stay near him.

Mark felt wrongness invade the air and hurried the transaction, but he wasn’t sure what had given them pause, only that something had. He would keep an eye on the boy.

Mark scanned the notice board with the faded, stained images of people wanted by the government and his own face glared at him from two of the chipped corners. He was glad of Alexa’s whistle when she called him to her side.

As the door closed behind them, the Private peered at the board for a final confirmation of what he already knew. Brian, who had escaped from a bunker and been recaptured by Merrik’s patrol, reluctantly called his boss again. He didn’t want Alexa arrested. He wanted to go with her to Safe Haven.

Mark had to confirm his suspicion. “He’s calling for help with us, right?”

“Yes.”

“Should we get set to go on?”