The crooked, green sign with the name "Brewster Lane" comes in sight. Despite how hard I try to forget; this name keeps yanking my attention back to what happened at the house. Horrible thoughts fill my head even though I left Eric there to protect the girls. He's one guy going up against a psychopath, and a handful of douchebags that think they can take what they want. Liam seems like he's hiding behind a façade. Just like his type would. Trying to give me the impression everything is okay, and he won't go back on his word.
My knuckles turn white as I crush the steering wheel. I let that son of a bitch get to me when he taunted about me and Jamie. Then he provoked me again when he pointed his gun at Kate and Rebecca. I played into his mind games two times in a row and now he knows that all he has to do is threaten Kate, and I'll be at his mercy.
I ball my fist up and drive it into the glove compartment, "Godfuckingdamnit!"
If it isn't Blair trying to torture and maim me, it's Liam manipulating me into doing his bidding. Yet, if I wouldn't have displayed some kind of humanity, I really believe Liam would have shot Kate and not thought twice about it. It's in the past and dwelling on it is clogging my ability to effectively evaluate the task at hand. I believe in Eric, but the fact I can't be there to back him up worries me. He took care of the group when we got separated but not knowing what's going on with the circumstance that could be more volatile than what was previously presented worries me.
Mike pulls his car into the middle of the road and parks. I open the cylinder in my revolver and pull out each shell. Two of them have been spent, and those are the ones from when Kate and I were exploring Brookhaven. I toss the empty casings onto the floorboard and replace them. Could have been bad if a situation came up where I needed to empty five rounds into something, and there was only three readily available. Kate reloaded my rifle last night so everything should be ready to go.
Mike gets out of the car and grabs a hold of a little short barreled AR without a stock. The other two get into the trunk of the car and pull out several stinger strips. This is got trouble written all over it. A roadblock? Tire spikes? Liam must be a pretty serious threat if they're willing to go this far to set up a checkpoint around this Judge's house. One guy folds out the bipod on his hunting rifle and aims it in the direction the judge lives. The other man rests his back up against the car and watches in the direction of the turnoff.
"You got a light, dad?" The guy sitting down asks as he pulls out a cigarette.
"You know the deal."
"Shit." The guy sighs as he pulls out another cigarette and hands it to Mike.
"Hey Benny, you want one?"
"No thanks. Nicotine makes me shaky." The guy laying in the back seat replies.
The guy sitting down holds one out to me, "You want one?"
"No, I'm okay."
"I see how it is. You offer Matt and Benny a smoke, but you can't even lend one to your old man." Mike states as he rolls the flint on a disposable lighter and presses the flame to the kid's cigarette.
"That's because Benny and this motherfucker aren't going to smoke a pack a day like you and Liam do." The boy holds the open pack out to me again, "You sure you don't want one?"
"I'm good." I answer.
"Alright then."
Mike lights his cigarette and puts his lighter away, "alright boys. You know the drill."
"Kill the judge, cap his kids and rob whoever approaches the checkpoint. Standard day of work with an extra step." Benny says.
"Unless he's got a daughter." The guy sitting down chuckles as he takes a long drag.
"Matt? You and I are the ones going in. If anything goes wrong, we'll meet up back here and head back. Regardless if we can make the kill or not."
"Liam's not going to like that…"
"And Liam isn't out here risking his life over something trivial…" Mike rages. He realizes his statement and takes a deep breath, "I mean…Liam isn't thinking clearly right now."
"It's all between us dad. Liam doesn't hear a thing." The boy takes a drag on his cigarette.
"Matt? Let's go and get this over with." Mike says as he makes sure his weapon has a round in the chamber.
Mike and I step off into a nearby ditch and make our way towards the destination. So that boy with the black hair is Mike's son? I would have never thought it. Mainly because he's clean cut and trimmed while Mike is tatted up with a scruffy neck, and a shaved head. Which for some reason I could never understand. In almost every motorcycle gang, there's always that one guy with the shaved head with a five-o clock shadow.
That's not the point though. The fact that Mike, his son and that kid named Benny don't want to be here anymore than I do is shocking. Normally these kinds of people would be the first to follow the boss' orders. Mike burns his tobacco right down to the orange filter and flicks the butt in the direction of the road.
"So, what did he threaten you with?"
"What?"
"I know for a fact you aren't here because you want to be. What did he do?" Mike asks.
"When I woke up this morning, this one guy named Skids was holding my buddy hostage, and he forced me into the living room where Liam was at. Apparently, this douche named Kevin was wanting to trade for this girl named Jamie."
"The red head? I know her. She was the one some guys jumped on when she first arrived."
"You know the story?"
"I was there. A couple days before society collapsed, I managed to break Liam out of jail because most of the officers and guards were occupied with whatever the fuck is happening in the world. After our escape, we decided to hunker down where at that house we're at now. Little did we know that the inhabitants were those things. So Liam and I went to get my son, and the three of us set up shop at that house we're at right now."
"A couple days later, people started showing up. Some we let in, others we had to either kill because they were sick or beyond saving. On the day that little red head showed up, Liam and I were dealing with a dispute inside the house. Suddenly, we heard this girl screaming for her life. Liam told me to stay put and resolve the situation while he went to investigate. That's when I heard several gunshots. When I arrived, Liam was covering that girl's naked body with his jacket and wiping blood spatter from her face. From that point on, Liam changed, and it seemed like he was more focused on building himself as an authority figure rather than helping people."
Mike lays his rifle over his shoulder and takes a deep breath, "I mean, there is virtually no crime when he's around because anything Liam sees as wrong is instantly punished with death, but now he's got us doing stupid shit like this. I mean, I don't like this fat bastard any more than Liam does, but he's not a threat and here I am risking my life, my son's, yours and Benny's life over nothing."
"Seems more like a personal vendetta from the story he told me." I add.
"That's what I said. I mean, I want to believe Liam has our best interests at heart, but he's just not the same man he used to be." Mike sighs.
"Liam told me he was going to watch over my group while I'm gone. Will they be alright?"
"Yeah. Liam is a man of his word. That's the only quality he kept. The only quality that keeps him predicable."
A joyful spike causes my heart to leap. Although there are still doubts, the fact Liam's enforcer is still willing to vouch for him lifts a huge weight off my shoulders. Maybe tonight once we leave for that hunting resort, we can finally get back on the road that will take us home.
The roof of a distant house barely pokes above the tips of the cedar trees. Black wings throw around airy feathers and red throats let out a crackly caw as a swarm of buzzards circle around a specific area ahead. I shoulder my rifle and watch the back as Mike hunkers down and crouch walks forward.
This doesn't seem right. Why would there be buzzards hovering over the judge's house? Shouldn't his place be a safe haven? Considering he probably lives in a gated house? Up ahead is a collapsed wood bridge that arches over a riverbed. Yellow fumes float up and collectively form what looks like dust. Buzzards sit up on the jagged metal arches of the bridge and stare directly down. Almost like there's something they can't get to.
"Whoa whoa…hold up…"
"What is it?" Mike asks.
I hold my breath and carefully ease up to where the land slowly slopes off into a fog so thick that the bottom isn't even visible.
"Damnit…Yellowcake."
"Yellowwhat?"
"Yellowcake. It's that gas croakers leak when they're hit."
"Those glowing things that can sprint?"
"Yeah." I reply as I search my bag.
Adam shoved a ton of medicine into my bag when we were at that store last night. Half of this probably doesn't do anything, and all it's done now is hide those potassium iodide pills. "That's right." I put them in a separate pouch. Surely Adam didn't stuff that with unless medicine.
"Keep this close to your body. It'll keep that yellow shit away from you." I say as I toss Mike a prescription bottle.
He shakes the pills inside and examines the label, "thyroid supplement? How is this supposed to work."
I hold out a bottle of potassium iodide pills and shove my hand into the cloud. The yellowcake fearfully scatters and casts itself in the opposite direction. "This is our little secret. Okay?" I say as I put the supplement back with the other potassium iodide bottles. There's about nine in total. Plus, the one Mike has so we should be good. Not only that, but I got that gas mask Kate gave me, but it would be best if Mike didn't know about that.
The both of us ease to where the ground slopes down. The yellowcake welcomes us into its environment and overtakes us. A massive door of yellow dust pours down and completely obscures the area behind us. The sky turns the color of gold, and the visibility drops. It's inconceivable to explain what this is like, but the only thing that can come close is a sandstorm that came out of nowhere.
The tip of my boot catches something and prevents me from taking a full step. Mike bumps into me but catches the strap on my backpack. The body of a person that's been shot in the head rests at the bed of the river. I look around and notice that he isn't the only one.
Bodies of shamblers, croakers and normal people are sprawled out all over the dried riverbed. Corpses range from men, women and children. I grab the bridge of my nose and try to keep myself suppressed. All the thoughts in my mind narrow themselves down to one particular event. I fight with everything I have to keep it from overtaking me, but it isn't working. The darkness scales across my scalp and burrows into my skull. The sensation of something grabbing my shoulder forces me to spin around and point my rifle in the direction of what touched me.
"Whoa Whoa Matt! Take it easy!" Mike whispers as he holds his hands up.
Reality shoves the darkness out of my head, and it quickly dissipates. My lungs refine the air coming in and helps bring back my fading sanity. The world isn't going to give me the time to grieve, and it would be best to move as quietly as possible. "I'm sorry Mike. It's just that…"
"No. I understand. Fucked up right?"
"Yeah."
"I'd suggest we watch it though. There's no way to tell if we're the only ones down here." Mike states.
"Good thinking."
The both of us step over the bodies of the people and continue onward to the berm. Some people are dressed like civilians, but there's even a couple of victims here that are dressed in armor, but it's not the desert camo pallet the military use. One woman is wearing something a solider would, but there are no patches to symbolize what she's from.
I will say this, she didn't die a pleasant death. Her head's been chewed off her body, and her spine is sticking out of the crimson stump of her neck. There is some lettering up around the base of the neck, but there's so much bloodstain and yellowcake layer it's hard to tell without getting closer. It looks like the word starts with D and ends with an A possibly.
The two middle letters are more difficult to decipher. One is an O because there's no tail to make it P, and no other letter is as wide as an O. Possibly C, but it doesn't look like it has that hook that makes C distinctive. The fourth letter, there's no telling. It's completely been blotted out.
Glass bottles and empty aluminum cans of beer rest at the foot of the berm. Of course. It can't be Oklahoma unless there's beer bottles everywhere. Something that sounds like approaching voices dip down to the river's bed.
"Oh fuck! Someone's coming!" Mike whispers.
"Quick…the bridge is this way." I point to the left.
The both of us rush in the direction of the bridge as quickly as possible. Mike makes it under the bridge where it hasn't collapsed and posts up against the riverbed's incline. I crouch beside him and get my rifle ready.
"Where's the boy?" A sinister voice asks.
"Like I'd tell you…"
The sound of a fist smacking into a person's jaw echoes from above. "If you tell me where he is, then I'll make it quick!" Several more bone shattering blows rain from above, and the metallic sound of someone racking a handgun slide or pumping a shotgun follows.
Things are getting serious. It's tempting to take the mask out and try to investigate, but what if there is a chance they'll see me? It's difficult to see down into the pit, but everything on the bottom is laying flush with the riverbed. Perhaps laying down would be safer, but then that means I'll have to crawl over all these dead bodies. It's not worth risking our cover considering we're safe as of now.
"Don't fuck with me. I'll do way worse to that boy than what happened to his momma and daddy." The voice calmly states.
"Why are you doing this? How could you do such an atrocious act to those people?"
"Because he ruined my life. Along with many other lives, but now that there are no laws to protect him from his illicit lifestyle, I came in and solved a problem that was long overdue. Whereas people like you who are so absorbed within your own self-righteousness that you can't see just how grateful everyone should be. For the meek shall inherit the earth. Therefore, it is our job, those who were walked on their whole lives to get rid of everyone that wronged us. Now I'm going to present you two options, speak or die."
"Go to hell."
What sounds like the crack of a baseball being struck with a bat erupts out, and the sound of somebody tumbling all the way down to the bottom of the river is loud enough I can hear it from where I'm at. It's not visible from where Mike and I are positioned at, but the man sounds like he is violently shaking and rolling around as his coughing becomes cluttered.
"Can you see him?" The sinister voice asks.
"No, but he's restrained. No way he's getting out of this one."
"Even if he did, he'll be choking on that yellow shit all the way up the hill." A female voice states.
"Jack? You take a couple people and search the front area of the house. That boy can't be far. With that fucker out of the way now, things will be so much easier. Grey?"
"Yes sir?"
"I want you to make the girl scream. If Jack's group can't find the boy, then hearing his sister cry will draw him out."
"I don't know Blair…I'm not that…"
"Grey? We all know you got it in you. I don't care what you do. Just force her to make some noise. After we get the boy, keep the girl as a trophy or kill her. I don't care." Blair says.
"Then what do we do?" A female voice asks.
"Then we'll set our sights on finding the whore since Jack said she was at the hospice the other day."
"Dead or alive?"
"I prefer dead, but if you think you can take her alive, I can't stop you. Nor can I prevent what happens to her."
"And if Matt's still with her?"
"If that's the case, then I want them both alive. Nothing would please me more than breaking their spirits before punishing them properly for what they did back in Coaltown, and the hospice."
Immense anger fills my heart, but I can't let it consume me. Kate, and the others are waiting back home for me, and their survival depends on the success of this job. Liam said the entire family had to be killed, but it appears Blair and his group aren't far from doing that themselves.
Their conversation fades away, and the auditable sound of the man they threw down into the yellowcake is trying to hold his breath. I put my gas mask on and leave my backpack behind. Grainy particles collect on the clear visor of the mask as it completely encases me under the yellowcake. I grab my hunting knife just in case I run into something along the way, or this guy tries to fight back.
Laying at the base of the berm is a person that's resting on top of several fresh bodies. The man spasms around as the weight of the yellowcake chips away at his bloody nose. His hands are restrained behind his back. I grab the collar of his shirt and pull. The man's neck snaps back in my direction and his leg rears up. I let him go and cover my mask up to make sure he doesn't knock it off.
"I'm trying to help you dumbass." I whisper as I grab hold of him again.
The guy continues to thrash around and resist despite my help. I drag him under the bridge and into the clarity Mike, and my backpack have established. The guy coughs up a huge cloud of yellow mixed with droplets of blood. He's already dead. Should have left him there, but I didn't really want to see the man suffer.
Not to mention we need some answers on what's going on. Mike points his AR-15 at the man as I clean the yellowcake of my mask and put it away. The man wheezes and tries to breathe in the yellowcake free air. Regardless of being in a cleaner environment, he coughs with so much force that his lungs are rattling inside his chest.
"What…are…you…doing…"
"We could ask the same thing. What's going on?" I ask as I step back from him.
"That man…he's got the judge's daughter. The boy…he's still out there…"
"Where are they at?" Mike asks.
"The judge is dead. Wife? Dead. Everyone else in charge of protecting them, dead. I was the only one." The man coughs up another cloud of blood speckled yellowcake.
"Is his family still alive?" Mike insists.
"His boy is hiding in the woods west of here. There's an evacuation center nearby in Bowson I was trying to get him and his sister to, but those assholes caught up and took the girl back to the house. I don't know what you're doing out here, but if you run into the boy, take him to the evac center." The guy coughs again, and a tear rolls down his face.
"We'll see what we can do." I say.
"Wait…can you do me a favor?"
"What is it?"
"I don't know what's going to happen, but I don't want to become one of those things…please…" The man's agonizing cough intensely grows in severity as black and orange liquid mix with his saliva and drip out of his drooling mouth. I look at Mike and see that he's thinking the same thing.
"Sure." I say as I walk over.
"When you get to Bowson, present my wedding ring to those guarding the front. That will be the symbol of my failure, but a ticket for that boy." The man closes his eyes and carefully breathes, "Tell those kids I'm sorry that I failed…"
I press the tip of the knife into his throat, "You did what you could. Now let us handle it."
The blade pushes all the way through the man's neck and glances off a rock underneath. I pull it out and run it across his throat and back off. A miscolored orange cloud shoots out of the guy's mouth as the crimson swirls within the yellowcake. The grit dribbles down his mouth as his strained breathing disappears. His body stops spasming as he closes his eyes and lies there motionless. The weight of the man's head forces him to look in my direction.
I turn my back and walk away before the thought can set in, "Mike? What are we going to do?"
"I don't know. I mean, I never had a grudge the judge's wife, or the kids for that matter."
"Is there a possibility Liam might find out?"
"There's no telling, but I think as long as the judge is dead, and the kids are never seen again, then Liam shouldn't make too big of a deal out of it." Mike replies.
I sling my backpack on and sigh, "Get that ring then."
"We could just head back. You know." Mike states.
"Yeah, but I couldn't sleep tonight knowing that there might have been something I could have done." I reply as I lay my battle rifle over my shoulder and head up the berm.
"Just know if you get into trouble, I'm not saving your ass." Mike states as he catches up and hands me a bloody, platinum ring.
"Then tell Liam I died finishing the job…"