(I26 and I95 intersection. Late summer.)
"Please dismount and sling weapons. Follow the marked path. Please do not wander into the mine field. Dead customers are so hard to trade with. We understand that you will take precautions too. That's fine. Be careful and friendly and we will be too. Be unfriendly and we have lots of room to bury what will be left of you. Have a nice day!"
Tim and Delilah looked at the sign then looked at each other and then scanned the sign again as if a close scrutiny might reveal something the first reading had not.
"What do you think?" both of them asked in the same breath. Everyone else in the vehicle grinned. Even Wanda and Peter had got used to the way the two adults finished each others' sentences and read the other's thoughts before they were even expressed.
It had taken longer to get here than they had expected. The van had begun to run rough but they were very exceedingly reluctant to abandon it. It was perfect: room for all of them, well protected against attack by infected and marauders alike and the one person operated lift that allowed Delilah to let herself in and out of the back by herself. Not that she hardly ever did that, usually one of more of her family was there for her.
Tim overhauled the vehicle's engine, all that he could anyway. Peter proved a godsend. Mechanically inclined himself he was amazingly fast on foot, bringing parts and tools from a shop/auto parts store that was within walking distance of where they had hidden themselves. Walking distance for Peter anyway, Tim had admitted more than once. It would have been a half day journey for him.
There had been an infected attack early one morning just as everyone was waking up. Later they all discussed if the infected might have wandered by without stopping had they not hit the home-made alarm system the family set up; simple wires with old cans attached to them with metal scraps in the cans to rattle noisily if disturbed. Regardless, the infected DID hit the wires and the sound had everyone awake and ready before the first one staggered into the camp.
Neither Peter nor Wanda had ever held a firearm in their lives before this ("That's good," Tim had said, "You won't have picked up any bad habits."). The weapon of choice for booth of them had been shotguns, like the girls used and in the same twenty gauge to make the ammunition supply easier. Thirty-eight caliber revolvers had completed their armament ("with a revolver you never have to worry if the safety is on or if there is a round chambered. You just start pulling the trigger ). Careful patient training; learning the weapon, cleaning it, sight and instinctive aiming and finally dummy round firing all had been done before the first live round was chambered. So when the crowd of infected burst through the warning system they were met by six capable gun handlers and one Becky complaining as loud as she could later about once again being pushed behind everyone else and never firing a shot.
One skill both of the twins turned out to have was archery; having learned to hunt at an early age before they were orphaned. When an opportunity arose for them and Tim to slip into a huge sporting goods store they took it. The guns were cleaned out and not a single round of ammunition was found but the archery equipment had barely been touched. The twins were ecstatic. While the rest of the family prowled the stockrooms and floor displays for new boots and outdoor clothing Wanda and Peter found bows that were perfect for them and loaded up on arrows, hunting tips and extra strings. The finds were enriched by the discovery of sleeping bags for the twins and fuel for the group's cook stove and lanterns.
Not only had the twins proved to be resourceful hunters but their ability with a near silent weapon had helped them all to avoid a fight with an ambushing group of marauders.
(Previously)
Peter moved through the underbrush, slowly, taking his time. Each step was careful; making sure that no branch was underfoot before putting his weight down. Behind him Wanda was just as careful. And as quiet. They were hunting but this time it was bigger game than they had ever dealt with before.
Two days previously the family had come up on a fortified farm. Both sides had been careful and wary but eventually they reached an understanding. Neither party was generously overstocked in anything but a comparison of what each had and needed saw both sides eding up better off than when they met.
The powerfully built older man who was at the very least the spokesperson for the twenty odd survivors shook hands with Tim to conclude their deal. As the merchandise was exchanged he gave the family a warning.
"A marauder group of about fifteen tried to hit us some days ago. We drove them off. Like most of those groups they don't want a fight; they want what they can take without much risk. We have heard they set up an ambush site down the highway somewhere. Apparently they lurk well off the road, rushing to it when lookouts report someone coming. Then they split into two groups and trap their victims front and rear."
Tim and Delilah thanked the man. They pulled out their maps.
"They've picked a good spot," Tim admitted. "I'm not sure there's a way around them that won't take a couple of weeks at a minimum."
"Even then we have no guarantee that route will be any safer," Delilah noted.
All five of the children were clustered around them. They were all old enough to be included in any discussion although in the end Tim and Delilah made the final decisions. They thought anything that impacted the children they deserved to know. So the five took it all in and thought along with the adults for a minute. That's when Wanda came up with her idea.
"We scout thee ambush. Find the lookouts. Then Peter and I take them out. We go right past the rest before they know we are even nearby."
So here they were. Tim the twins had set up an observation post of their own. As it turned out there were three lookouts for the marauders and none of them had the slightest noise or sight discipline. They wandered around, they smoked, and they chatted loudly on their walkie-talkies. After two days the trio agreed they had the pattern of the sentries down well enough to take care of them.
The one point of disagreement was that the twins felt that although Tim was pretty good in the woods he should stay and cover them. Reluctantly he agreed after they demonstrated just how stealthy they were and he realized he might actually jeopardize them. His one worry was that faced with having to actual kill another human being they might hesitate.
"To protect our new family," Wanda stated firmly, "We would kill all of them." Peter nodded.
So under the cover of a cloudy moonlit night they went hunting.
The first target was the one nearest the outlaw camp. He was alone however as the other two had set up camp together on the far side of the highway. There was a greater chance their first kill would be found but bringing two men down at one time without one raising the alarm was the harder task.
The marauders swapped lookouts once a day in the morning so they had all day and the first part of the night to get bored and sleepy. Right at dusk the twins began their stalk. They took turns being in the lead, wordlessly indicating to each other when it was time to swap as well as any obstacles in the way. In less than an hour they were carefully circling the lookout's camp. He had built a campfire and outlined himself against it as both of the twins let an arrow hiss through the air. He fell and didn't move.
They quickly searched the camp, finding nothing useful. The man's weapon was a rusting piece of junk. They unloaded it and pulled the bolt. As they moved toward their second target they quietly tossed the bolt away in one direction, the ammo in a second and the now useless weapon in a third. Then they moved on. Peter tapped the send button on the walkie-talkie once, sending Tim the signal the first lookout was down.
The tricky part was getting across the highway. Wanda doubted the men were actually keeping a watch, more depending on hearing a vehicle rather than watching for one. And if someone didn't have a vehicle they probably weren't worth robbing. Still, remembering what the McGee's had told them about the ambush they had made it through before the twins knew that goods and money weren't everything the marauders were looking for.
They waited at the edge of the road as patiently as they could. It was near midnight by now and the sun would start coming up about six, by which time they hoped to be long gone. Finally a shadow drifted across the moon and they darted across.
A path led up to the observation post. The twins paralleled it, assuming that even such a careless bunch as the outlaws seemed to be that they would not at least have something strung across the path to warn them about the approach of any infected. But the underbrush was sparse and they made good time. Ahead of them they saw a flicker of light. Someone had just lit a cigarette. Wanda shook her head.
As they crept closer they heard the pair talking in low voices. They listened as they crept closer. Peter's face twisted in disgust at the conversation. If there had been any doubt they were doing the right thing the terrible things the men were boasting of having done and hoped to do in the future to people they raided, that doubt was swept aside. Nodding to each other they each picked their target. As soon as Wanda heard her brother's bow release she fired. Her target had just an instant to look wide-eyed at the arrow that sprouted in his companion's chest before he took one in the throat and fell on top of the other's body.
Before the sun came up the twins had returned and the McGee's had crept down the highway between the no longer interested lookouts, the motor as muffled as they could make it until they were sure they were well past the outlaws. Then they took off. A couple of days later they had reached the trading post.
(Present)
"So what are we going to do Daddy?" asked Becky, Tigger snuggled in his usual place in her lap. It was clear the kitten had adopted her although he was perfectly happy to have anyone scratch his neck or pet him. He was especially fond of having his tummy rubbed.
Unlikely as it was it was possible that Becky's father was still alive on the West Coast and some day might find his way back to her. Tim and Delilah had been very cautious about encouraging her to call them by any names other than their own. At the same time they deeply cared for the little girl and were determined to take care of her. But it would have to be her decision to become a permanent part of the family. The fact that she had been calling Dahlia and Angie her sisters for quite a while was a pretty sure indicator of her intentions even before the recent change from "Tim" and "Delilah" to "Mommy" and "Daddy".
The same was true of the twins. Older and without a doubt orphaned they were not even in their home country. Tim and Delilah hoped the pair would stay with them after they reached the safe zone that was closer and closer every day.
"After all," Delilah had commented one evening when she and Tim had a few minutes alone. "Seven is a nice number for a family."
Tim signed his reply to their youngest as he spoke to the others. "I'm going to do exactly what the sign say. I have a feeling these people are exactly who they appear to be. I don't think we ve run across Terminus."
Delilah shuddered. "Please God no." She rallied. "And us?"
"Stay here. Someone behind the wheel at all times in case this is an ambush and nobody goes too far until I signal. But it won't hurt, I hope, to let the people up there see that we're just a family trying to get by."
With that he slung his rifle muzzle down and started up the path.
(To be continued)