Silent Interruption (Book 3): An Uncertain Passage Page 8

  The man had a bloody lip, red marks across his face, and a rip down his shirt. Now free of Michael, Tara drew one of her guns on him.

  “Wait!” the man cried.

  “Stay back!” Tara screamed.

  “Please,” the man said.

  “Shut up! Shut up!” Anger flooded Tara’s veins. This man could have taken Michael from her. Right now, she wasn’t inclined to listen to his pleadings.

  “Tara!” Carl charged up onto the porch.

  “Michael…my God.” He looked from Michael to Tara. “What happened?”

  “He attacked us with a goddamn shotgun!” she said with fury that surprised even her.

  “This is my house!” the man shouted with a slight sob. “You…you all came here. You invaded my property!”

  “Easy, sir. I’m a U.S. Marine. I’ll take care of this.” Carl then turned to Tara. “C’mon, let’s take Michael and get out of here.”

  Tara stayed frozen in place. She was afraid to take her gun off this man.

  “Tara!” Carl raised his voice. “Michael needs you. This man is no longer a threat. I’ll keep watch while you two leave.”

  Tara trembled some more. “You’ll…you’ll do that?”

  “Of course,” Carl said, “trust me.”

  Tara nodded. “Right,” she said, through a choked voice.

  She lowered her gun, re-holstered it, and then quickly spun around to take Michael by the arm. Michael seemingly had slipped back into his sedate state, and offered no resistance as Tara helped him up and out through the doorway.

  Carl kept a watch on the homeowner as Tara and Michael fled. “I’m sorry, sir,” Carl said. “Our friend has suffered a lot in the past few days.”

  The homeowner didn’t seem inclined to care. “Just…just go. Just leave me alone.”

  “We have supplies—” Carl began.

  “Just leave!” The man started to cry. “Leave me to die here! I don’t want to hear from anyone ever again!”

  Carl glanced through the open doorway where Michael had been standing. A few pictures hung on the wall within his sight. The man had a family, a wife, and kids who aged from picture to picture until they appeared as full grown adults. Yet the house sounded empty except for this man. Did they live somewhere else, or did the worst happen to them in this disaster?

  Carl realized there was no reaching this man. The best thing to do was depart, and try saving the lives of those who still were under his protection.

  Tara and Michael trudged back out into the street, their heads bowed and their movements slow and plodding. “My God!” Alicia rushed to Tara. “Are you two alright? You look like you got run over by a car.”

  Tara shook her head. “We…we had some problems. I think…I think Michael’s snapped out of it. We had a run in with someone in that house behind us.” Tara turned to Rupert. “You might want to look Michael over.”

  “Sure,” Rupert said as he took hold of Michael.

  Tara then reached down and picked up her pack. Preston took special note of her actions. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

  Tara fitted her arms through the pack’s shoulder straps. “Yeah,” she said gruffly, and in a voice that indicated the absolute opposite.

  By now Carl was rejoining them. Shyanne hurried to join him. “What happened?”

  Carl smiled weakly. “I’ll tell you later.” He then addressed everyone. “Alright, rest’s over. I want us as far away from this place as possible by the time the sun sets.”

  Carl then began walking down the street, back on their original path.

  Chapter Ten

  Ricardo struggled to stay on the branch while gazing out beyond the tree’s overhanging leaves. “I don’t see anything,” he said, “No, wait! Cars! There’s a lot of them.”

  “I see them,” Matt replied. He had perched on the branch below. “They’re all up the road.”

  “I see some dogs, too,” Tom added. The boy then grimaced. “And they’re…eating someone.”

  “What? They are?” Ricardo leaned over, but this time his hold broke, and he fell off the tree into a set of bushes just below.

  Matt groaned. “I told you that branch wasn’t strong enough for you.”

  Ricardo bobbed up and down on the cushion of bushes. “Hey, that was actually fun!” Then he groaned. “Though I think I have a pine cone in my butt.”

  Tom started climbing down. “Don’t ask me to get it out for you.”

  Even though Tom might have been reluctant to help Ricardo free himself from a posterior-planted pine cone, he and his brother still helped Ricardo out of the bushes. “Gracias,” Ricardo said.

  “It’s a good thing Mister Carl had us scout the street from up there,” Tom said. “There’s a lot of dead people on that road and they’re attracting dogs.”

  Ricardo picked a twig out of his ear. “I don’t want to be dog food,” he said, “We’ll have to change our course.”

  “I agree,” Carl said as he pressed the map against the pine tree. He, Lorenzo, and Harold were studying the original map that Carl carried with him ever since the boys had returned from up ahead with the news. “I don’t want us to have to fend off feral dogs. If a lot of people died on that road, it could attract all kinds of predators from the woods looking for an easy snack.”

  “So, what’s the story?” Lorenzo asked. “Will that add a lot of time to our journey to go another way?”

  “Actually, I figured we probably would have to leave the main roads at some point.” Carl pointed to the forest just ahead of them. “But, that could work out fine for us. This pine forest doesn’t look hard to hike through and we can pick up a good head of steam.”

  “Aren’t there also farmhouses that way?” Lorenzo asked.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me,” Carl said. “I’m hoping they’re far enough out of the way that they didn’t attract any bad actors.”

  “Sounds like we know where to go,” Harold said.

  Carl rolled up the map. “Definitely.” He turned his attention to everyone else, who had taken the opportunity of the boys’ reconnaissance to sit down, rest, and eat. But Carl made it clear that when it was time to move, they moved. So when Carl announced that it was time to pack up, they complied.

  Carl carefully observed the group as they began filing away from the clearing into the woods beyond. Tara was no longer with Michael, having kept to herself since the incident in the neighborhood. Carl wondered if she was afraid of Michael, but then it occurred to him that maybe she was a bit rattled by her own actions on the porch and didn’t want to be around anyone else for a while.

  Ricardo, on the other hand, had stopped acting restless since they first entered these woods. The change from suburban neighborhoods to pine trees must have fascinated him. Carl smiled at the thought. Trees and forests were like natural playgrounds for boys. Even Tom and Matt had an additional spring in their step upon entering these woods.

  Preston was a different story. His mood soured as the houses gave way to trees. He had taken out his bug spray and at times sprayed his body and the air around him. The woods were not his natural habitat. Preston clearly wouldn’t be happy here.

  The other adults endured the travel with general stoicism, likely for the benefit of the children. The change from suburban neighborhoods to trees seemed to agree with Maria, and the young woman greeted the greenery around her warmly, even smiling when she spotted birds on tree branches. Michael, for his part, continued walking with the same disoriented stare. Nothing on the journey since the incident had triggered him again.

  There shouldn’t be anything out here to set him off, Carl thought. These woods did not resemble the city at all in which Michael and Tara had fought for their lives. Hopefully, their journey would be uneventful for the rest of the day.

  “Mister Carl, are the trains working?”

  Carl gazed up and down the train tracks that now bordered the forest along their path, as he pondered Shyanne’s question. “No, I’m sorry. The trains
around here work on electricity too. No train’s coming this way.”

  “Aw, shoot,” Shyanne said.

  Carl chuckled. The appearance of these train tracks made the little girl wonder whether at least the trains had survived the EMP, but Carl had to disappoint her. On the other hand, a train track did offer a readymade road for them to take.

  Harold studied his copy of the map. “This track does take us a little farther east,” he said. “But after a while it curves into some campsites. I remember visiting those with the boys last summer.”

  “It might be worth it,” Carl said, “At least we won’t get lost.” He turned to the others. “We’ll travel on these tracks.”

  The train tracks provided an easy path for the group to follow. The boundaries of the tracks also narrowed the group to walking single or double file. Carl, naturally, led the way, with Harold just behind him and Lorenzo and Alicia following. The kids largely were sandwiched in the middle, with Tara bringing up the rear.

  After a while, Carl noticed his own steps were slowing down. He had insisted on driving the party forward almost nonstop, but even he had to admit he could not continuously keep going. It was fortunate they had rested twice already. They might have had to take a longer rest period otherwise.

  Checking behind him, Carl recognized his companions were faring even worse, lagging further behind than the last time he had checked. He was amazed none of them had complained yet. Were they intimidated by him, or did they just want to put up a brave front?

  It’s got to be closing in on five o’clock, Carl thought. If so, they had to start thinking about where to pitch camp. But first, he wanted to investigate the lands just off the side of the train tracks. Didn’t Harold mention some campsites not far from here? Perhaps they would run into some people if they investigated the area close by, and possibly some shelters as well.

  Carl slowed down, allowing the group to catch up. “Okay, everyone. I think we’re approaching our stopping point.” He pointed to the small hill beyond. “Let’s take a look over there and see if we can find a good place to set up camp.”

  Carl had found something sooner than he expected.

  “Definitely a farmhouse,” Alicia said as she gazed through her binoculars. “Pretty sweet, too. Got to have several bedrooms and a nice Jacuzzi.”

  Carl had asked Alicia to check it out from this spot on the other side of the hill. Once he had spotted that farmhouse in the distance, he immediately brought the party to a halt so they could scout it out from over here.

  “No one’s shooting at us, so maybe they’re friendly,” Alicia said.

  Lorenzo chuckled. “Crazy people can do a whole lot of other things. They don’t just have to shoot at us.”

  “I know that, silly,” Alicia said.

  “But they may not be seeing us yet,” Harold added.

  “We don’t know who’s over there, if anybody is,” Carl said. “And the sun’s starting to go down. We’re too exhausted to handle any problems if they come up. We’ll camp out back over this hill, then approach the house in the morning.”

  The light of the lantern kept the small space around the party lit. Carl insisted on no fires. He didn’t want a trail shooting up to alert the people in the farmhouse if they turned out to be unfriendly. In fact, he didn’t want the farmhouse residents to notice them at all, particularly after the incident with Michael. Even a misunderstanding could prove fatal.

  Tara had kept watch on the house for the past hour, using the night vision in her hunting rifle. She returned with the same news. No one was moving outside or inside the house, and there were no lights. There were no lights inside, nothing by the light of a lantern, a candle, or anything that could be seen. It all seemed to confirm the idea that the house was abandoned.

  “I hope so,” Preston said. “We’d have a place to stay if it was.”

  Carl had to admit the farmland around the home looked good enough to form a place to stay permanently. But he wasn’t there yet. He still wanted to get to Camp Jefferson if possible.

  Lorenzo and Alicia relaxed inside the large sleeping bag they had brought, until judging from the cooing sounds inside, Carl figured the pair were doing more than just relaxing. He thought enough of them to whisper to them to keep it down with Shyanne and the boys around.

  Maybe I could leave Lorenzo and Alicia there, and maybe Harold and the boys? Carl found the possibility enticing. If he could go on alone, or just with his original group of companions, he might cover more ground in a shorter period of time.

  Michael caught his eye. Oh yeah, Michael. There’s no way Tara would leave him behind. He’d have to come. But Michael’s presence added another wrinkle. Could Michael handle the journey? He already had flaked out once. Would he snap and hurt someone?

  Carl understood some things about PTSD. He had seen it among his fellow servicemen. It was possible Michael suffered from it as well, although the nature of his injury and his inability to receive proper care for it in the EMP aftermath all made his condition harder to understand. The fact that Michael could not express himself might also stoke his flashes of memory. If there was a way to engage the man, to help him accept what has happened, he might be able to tame his inner demons.

  Unfortunately, the one person who probably could help Michael was isolating herself from human contact. Tara sat on the opposite side of the lantern’s light. After she gave her report, she sat down and kept to herself.

  Carl decided he had to coax her out of her isolation. She might have had a rough time earlier, but this team needed her to be engaged. He got up and walked over to her.

  “I didn’t see you eating anything,” Carl said.

  “I’m not hungry,” Tara said.

  “You still should eat,” Carl said. “It’s not good to be on an empty stomach going into the morning. Then you’ll be really hungry and probably a little off-kilter.”

  “Off-kilter?” Tara chortled. “I think it’s too late for that.”

  “You’re worried about how things went down in that house with Michael,” Carl said.

  “Oh hell no, it was a blast. Couldn’t ask for better,” Tara said.

  Carl chuckled. “C’mon.”

  “Carl, this isn’t something I want to talk about. I don’t want to even think about it.”

  “Well, for someone who doesn’t want to think about it, you sure look like you are, unless you’re just humming constantly between your ears.”

  Tara looked at him. “What?”

  “My brother would do that whenever he didn’t want to think about something that was bothering him. He would just hum to himself inside his head.”

  “That sounds like it would annoy someone real quickly,” Tara replied.

  “I agree with that. So, what’s going on? Are you worried about you, or Michael, or both?”

  “All of the above.” Tara took her rifle, which rested next to her, and jammed the barrel into the sand next to her boot.

  “I could have killed that guy.” She traced a circle in the sand. “I really, really had to stop myself. If you hadn’t shown up, God knows what would have happened.”

  “You didn’t kill him. That says a lot.”

  “This time. But what if Michael gets in trouble next time? I don’t know how to handle this. Am I going to have to shoot someone to save Michael? I mean shoot someone who really is not a crazed killer?” She set her rifle down. “I just don’t understand how to reach Michael and help him with whatever he’s going through.”

  “Well, I know you can’t reach him from over here,” Carl replied. “You’re the only one he comes alive for. If he can’t tell us what he’s feeling, it might all explode in an instant.”

  Tara cringed. “Oh God, don’t say that. I think we’ve already seen that.” She threw her head back to look up at the stars.

  “I get what Preston was afraid of. I lived it.” Tara lowered her head. “But I need to deal with it. If I can’t use my guns to defend myself, then I’ll be pushing up daisi
es in no time.” She glanced over at Michael, who was sitting across from her. “Thanks, Carl.”

  “No problem,” Carl said as Tara took up her rifle and walked around the circle of campers toward Michael. He silently wished Tara luck in her efforts to help Michael…and herself.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carl peered through the binoculars, gazing into the surrounding countryside. The road that connected to the farmhouse’s driveway remained as quiet as ever. Naturally, Carl did not expect any motorized traffic, but that did not mean that people wouldn’t use it for foot travel. Still, there were no signs of approaching survivors. A look at the grassy hills beyond the road also turned up nothing.

  Carl turned back to the road. He wanted to look anywhere else but the country house behind him. He also had put Alicia on watch patrol on the other side of the house. He didn’t think the animals that had murdered the family inside the home would come back, but he would take no chances.

  Besides, taking watch provided a good distraction from the unpleasant work Lorenzo and Harold were undertaking inside the home—finding out the names of the murdered family. Carl wanted identities for these poor souls. They would not remain ciphers. Additionally, it was crucial for the next action Carl wanted to take—the burial.

  The fact of the matter was that following the EMP, millions of people would die and never be buried. Their remains would stay on the very spot where they had passed away. The breakdown of society would not allow for the millions who perished to be picked up and buried as they should be. The bodies would sit in the open, decompose, and be devoured by scavenging animals, a final indignity for the people who never knew what was coming.

  Carl vowed he would not leave these four in the same state. He would commit them to the ground and then get the hell out of here. He had been kidding himself. He thought the countryside would offer a reprieve from the madness of the cities. Surely he wouldn’t run into a roving band of anarchists looking for blood and treasure. He should have remembered that evil did not know zip codes. It did not discern between cities, suburbs and the countryside. Evil would turn up anywhere he went.