“Something’s not right,” Joe whispered to Gary. Max, on the other side of Gary, continued to peer through his night vision binoculars, the only set the raggle-taggle group had. The three men were lying face down beneath a heavy row of overgrown evergreen shrubs bordering the rear side of the municipal building. Dillon and two other men were surveying the northern side, and the final two men were on the southern side. The plan was simple: get into the building without getting caught, hide in the office, and wait for Andrews and his men to arrive in the morning. Then, shoot the fake mayor when he walks in the door along with anyone who defends him, sparing the young Charlie to help them find Andrews’ secret hideout and food source. Step two was to find the sheriff and see if he would be willing to play by new rules. Getting out wasn’t discussed in the plan–this was all or nothing. If it failed and anyone survived, they would certainly be hanged by Andrews.
Gary turned his head to look quizzically at Max, then back to Joe. Neither man offered an explanation of what “wasn’t right,” so he waited. He shivered...partly from being nervous, and partly from being wet.
Roy Hollenbaugh, a life-long boatsman and an Allegheny River Patrol officer in his “old” life before the electricity went out, had been assigned by Sheriff Branson to be in charge of river security. But he was one of the Old Guard, secretly sympathetic to the cause of the resistance and an advocate for Mr. Andrews’ removal from power. His role was key in Max’s plan.
Once the light had faded from the sky, Roy had started extending his route just slightly up river to a wrinkle in the bank. The men were waiting for him there after sneaking a harrowing two miles along the river’s edge from the campground to the rendezvous spot behind PennDot’s facility with its dead machinery lined up like dinosaur skeletons. From this point, Roy had smuggled Max, Joe, Gary, and the other men, one at a time, under a tarp in his boat to the bridge. The bridge was heavily guarded above, but as Roy slowly passed underneath, he was out of their sightline. The man under the tarp had roughly four seconds to heave himself onto the top of the concrete pier before Roy came out under the opposite side of the bridge. With the water level higher since the Kinzua dam wasn’t functioning and from the recent rain, the men were actually able to reach the top of the girders and climb up into steel cross beams beneath the deck. From there, they shimmied carefully and slowly to the eastern end of the bridge and waited under the road for the rest of the men.
The whole process took over two hours and Gary’s nerves were shot by the time they were all together. At one point, they had a scare when a man suddenly appeared, but it turned out to be the Deputy Dillon, abandoning his post to help them.
Huddled in the tight crease where the slope of the bank met the bottom of the deck, Max had informed them all that Roy had passed on critical information, which Dillon affirmed was true. Apparently, Andrews and Branson had ordered double manpower at all the security checkpoints due to intel that a violent survivalist gang was planning an attack. The men had only hesitated for a minute. This was their only chance to get into the municipal building. They were out of food and had come too far to turn back. With a simple appreciative head nod, Max had signaled to move out.
One by one, led by Max, each man had slipped into the black water and made his way northbound following the shoreline, just far enough for the darkness to conceal them from the bridge security as they climbed up the bank into the foliage. Using any cover they could find between homes and landscape, they had silently made their way to their places at the city building three blocks from the river. That was at least thirty minutes ago.
Max put down the binoculars. “If Andrews doubled all the watches, why is there only one man guarding the armory?” he whispered in a way that meant he was thinking it through, not asking for an answer. Joe and Gary waited. Max picked up the binoculars and watched a little longer. “And we haven’t seen the patrolling night watchman yet,” he continued. From their time as Security Team members, Joe and Max both knew that in addition to three guards at the storage entrance for the extra guns and ammunition, there was supposed to be a minimum of two patrolling guards on the lot twenty-four hours a day. As of yet, they had not seen any foot patrols.
Joe finally offered, “Everyone must have been pulled to the perimeter.”
“It doesn’t make any sense...,” Max muttered to himself, putting down the binoculars. “We’ll wait a little longer. We technically have till dawn.”
Gary was tired...and wet...and cold. He rested his forehead on his hands, wondering if he had survived the end of the world only to die from hypothermia. Although the May days had been warm, the temperature still dropped at night. How he longed to be in his own bed, in his own house.... Suddenly he had a thought that brought instant warmth from endorphins–and hope–being released throughout his body. “Hey!” he whispered to Max and Joe. “I’m going to find Beth Ann!” Gary started to push backward with his forearms.
Max grabbed his wrist. “No! You need to wait till tomorrow when it’s safe. She’s asleep now anyway.”
In a low voice, calmer than he felt, Gary said, “She thinks I’m dead, Max. There’s nothing I can do here; you have enough men. I need to make sure she’s okay.”
Max was quiet for a minute; then he let go of Gary’s wrist. “Remember, if any of the security officers or deputies see you, they will shoot!”
“I understand. I’ll be careful. But I can’t just sit here! I have to go,” Gary said. Max knew he meant it. He handed Gary the night vision binoculars. “Here. You’ll need these more than we will.”
Gary took them hesitantly, then nodded his thanks.
Joe spoke up then. “When you get there, stay there and don’t let anyone see you! I know where you live. We’ll come for you once Andrews is out of the picture and it’s safe.”
Gary nodded once more, looked each man in the eye to convey all his unspoken gratitude for their character and conviction in saving his life, and silently faded away into the night.
***
Meghan didn’t sleep well. Anxiety crept into her dreams and she woke often, praying each time until she drifted back to sleep. At one point, she was at the golf course, where the town’s dead were being taken. The sweet little girl with the bee sting was there, and behind her body was a pile of other bodies–faceless and misshapen. Meghan was digging, digging as fast as she could to get those bodies buried so she didn’t have to see them any longer. But the faster and harder she tried, the more stifling the dirt became, pressing in around her like she was the one in the grave. Finally the dirt rose over her mouth and in a panic she tried to scream, awakening herself.
There, inches above her, was the face of Darkness. He wore a ski mask, but the dark squinty eyes and skinny braid were hard to disguise. His hand was clamped tightly over her mouth.
“Where is she?” he growled.
Meghan shook her head as much as she could against the pressure of his hand. Her eyes open wide and her heartbeat pounding in her ears, she tried to say “I don’t know!,” but it came out as a high-pitched three-syllable garble from her throat.
“Don’t act all innocent with me, missy! Where is she?” He pressed his knee hard between her thighs and squeezed his free hand around her throat, leaning his weight into her.
She shook her head harder and tried to push him off, but she wasn’t strong enough. White flashes of light clouding her vision told her that she would lose consciousness in a matter of seconds. She tried to bite his hand. He hauled back and slugged her left temple, and she screamed.
“I have a message for you to give your little friend, since you ‘don’t know’ anything...” the man said with a sickening grin while he gagged her and then proceeded to tie her up.
The assault only took minutes, by standard clock time. But Meghan knew she would take this suffering with her into eternity, re-living this night every time she closed her eyes. It would have been better, in her mind, if he had killed her.
***
When Gary finally arrived at his house around 2:00 a.m., he was surprised to see no sign of Beth Ann or her dog, Romeo. Upstairs, he could definitely tell there had been a struggle–chairs tipped over, a lamp broken on the floor. He snuck next door to the Dalton’s and let himself in. No sign of her there, either. Back at his house, frantic now, Gary made sure the blinds were all pulled down. Then he lit a lantern, which wasn’t safe, but he had to look for a note or some clue to where Beth Ann might be. What he found was blood...enough to know that Beth Ann was in serious trouble.
With renewed passion to have Mr. Andrews taken out of the equation, Gary set his jaw. He had been wrong–there was something he could do. He had to get back to the municipal building and do his part.
***
It was going on 3:00 a.m. or even later, Beth Ann guessed, when they reached their destination: the point at the edge of the forest that she would leave her new friends behind and go forward alone. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. A warm hand wrapped around hers and she looked up to see Brody standing inches away. He took her into his arms and held her close. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted to be near this man until that very moment. For some reason, his touch didn’t repulse her and she wanted to let her heart go, to melt into him. She thought she would never be comfortable with a man’s touch after Travis ruined her, but this surprise was...healing. Why couldn’t she just stay here now—in his arms—while the end of the world went on around them?
“Excuse me, ya big hog,” Sean said to Brody, cutting in. Beth Ann wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes as she smiled and gave hugs to him, Damian and Andrew in turn.
“Don’t forget to scream real loud if somebody catches you sneaking into the apartment, loud enough for us to hear you,” Damian instructed. “We’ll wait here for a while to make sure you get in safely.”
With one last glance at Brody and one hand on the grip of the little revolver in her dark hoodie pocket, Beth Ann lunged out of the woods and carefully made her way through a sleepy neighborhood only three streets away from Meghan’s apartment. She thought of her brother who had tearfully given her his sweatshirt at the last minute, making her promise to return it. Beth Ann lifted her chin a little; she aimed to keep that promise.
It took some time to cross the three blocks because she was trying to be quiet and because her mind kept playing tricks on her. She thought she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye and she snapped her head around. She thought she heard a twig break behind her and she spun to look. She thought she heard voices, she thought she saw tiny lights flashing. Finally, ahead she saw the dark outline of the small, square three-story apartment building. Her poor heart pounded loud enough that she could hear it. In a few more yards she would be safe....
Without warning she was hit on the head from behind. In slow motion she saw the street draw nearer and nearer. Why was the street floating? she wondered. Then her body hit the ground and pain shot through her entire body at once. As she gulped for air and the warm blackness closed in around her, she heard a faraway deep, unfamiliar voice chuckle and say, “Someone is going to be very happy to see you!”
***
Gary had almost reached the municipal building when shots rang out. He gasped in surprise and ducked behind a parked car. Pulling up his rifle, he peered around the front bumper. It was too dark to see what was going on, but the sound had definitely come from the direction of the municipal building.
Moving from the car to a shed, then to a large tree trunk, Gary tried to get closer to where he had left Max and Joe. He was fully aware of the increased danger now. Not only would every neighbor in a two-block radius be looking out their windows, but in the dark his own friends may mistake him for the enemy. They weren’t expecting him to come back. From behind the tree he could just make out the line of shrubs he had lain under only two hours earlier. But he couldn’t tell if Max and Joe were still there.
Suddenly he remembered the night vision binoculars. Fumbling to untangle the strap around his neck, he silently chided himself for taking them from Max, who needed them right now. Just as he raised them to his eyes, the sound of running feet came from somewhere behind him. The tree would only cover him from one direction; he had to hide. Frantically, he dove head-first for the shrubs, praying that the men behind him didn’t have night vision and that his own buddies wouldn’t shoot him.
With the prickly needles grabbing at his clothing and woody branches scraping his skin, Gary scrambled onto his side and drew the binoculars up to his eyes. Scanning frantically, he found Max and Joe still lying in wait, a few yards north of him. Turning his attention back to the building, he saw a man lying still on the ground outside the armory door, which stood wide open. The feet he had heard behind him belonged to two men. They ran past the hedge row, across the small rear lawn, past the motionless body, and through the open door. Gary took three deep breaths to calm his racing heart and watched.
It was deathly quiet for several minutes. He thought he heard voices at one point, but he couldn’t be sure. Suddenly, four men came running out of the armory carrying large boxes and multiple guns slung across their backs that jostled noisily as they ran. Two of them wore the Deputy sash. Were they robbing Mr. Andrews? Gary wondered. Max was right; something strange was going on. The men ran around the corner and along the south side of the building, where Gary lost sight of them.
Just as he was trying to decide what to do, he heard Max and Joe go crackling out of the evergreen. Joe ran to check on the man lying on the ground, but Max ran to to the corner of the building, his weapon leading the way. Nearby a diesel engine roar to life and it sounded extraordinarily loud in the quiet of night.
Gary jumped as the gunfire picked up again and the vehicle pealed out. Low-crawling southward, he tried to stay concealed under the shrub branches. Every joint in his body ached and he could feel his strength draining away in the physically and emotionally exhausting long night, but he pushed himself forward. He had to get far enough around the edge of the building to see what was going on.
Just as Gary lifted up the binoculars, gunfire erupted from very nearby on his left, possibly from Dillon and Roger, followed by return fire from the direction of the street. The blinding flash made him drop the goggles and scurry through the shrub to the other side. On his feet, but crouched over, he ran to the northern corner of the hedgerow, still unsure if the shots had been aimed at him.
Finding a decent sized tree to stand behind, Gary could finally survey the scene with the night vision. Max was still at the southeast corner of the building. He spoke to the glowing green shape beside him, Joe most likely, and pointed to the far end of the building. Joe took off running to where the three other friendlies were supposed to be waiting at the northern side, but they were gone. With the binoculars, Gary watched Joe kick the tire of a parked car and punch the air a couple of times. Then Joe knelt, checked his gun and his spare mags in his vest, and headed with a determined stride for the side door into the building.
The gunfire had ceased and all was quiet. Gary wanted to help Joe, but he didn’t know how to approach him without getting shot. He bent down to find a couple stones to toss at the wall to get Joe’s attention. Just as he stood, a man came creeping around the corner from the front of the building in time to see Joe picking the side door lock.
“Joe!” Gary shouted the warning as he slung his shotgun into position, but not before the kill shots rang out. His hunting rifle was no match to the weapon the deputy had, but as he watched Joe slowly slide down the door jam and slump onto the ground, Gary felt a deep anger rise into his chest.
Crack! That’s for Linda, Gary thought, as he stepped out from behind the tree and took a shot. Crack! And Beth Ann. Crack! Now Joe. One of the bullets grazed the man’s shoulder and, surprisingly, instead of returning fire, the Deputy turned and ran. Then all was quiet. Too quiet.
Gary jogged to Joe and checked for a heartbeat. Although he was still warm, Joe’s pulse was still. His remaining years of life had escaped through the multiple holes in his chest. Gary’s hand shook as he gently closed the young man’s eyes.
Gary carefully moved on, looking around as he went. The armory guard, Max, Dillon and Roger were all dead, lying awkwardly where they had fallen. Knowing that he couldn’t complete the mission alone, and that he had very little time before the deputy he shot came back with reinforcements, Gary dragged each body with great effort to the front lawn. In the process, he found one more body by the road–another Deputy. Six men, gone long before they should have been, lined up side by side on the gentle slope leading up to the municipal building entrance, would wait for the dawn in hopes that the town would wake up and take action against the senselessness.
Stumbling the three blocks back to the bridge, Gary was torn between going back to his house to see if Beth Ann would turn up or fleeing town to the relative safety of the campground. Knowing deep down that there was little chance of Beth Ann simply “showing up,” he opted to find Roy and hitch a ride north.
***
Brody, Sean and Andrew had waited about thirty quiet minutes and were ready to head back to the retreat when the sound of gunfire took them by surprise. Instantly Brody coiled and tried to bolt. Sean and Andrew jumped into action and held him back.
“Hold up!” Sean said as he clutched Brody’s arm.
Brody stopped, knowing the guys were right.
“Sounds farther away, like the center of town maybe,” Andrew said. Sean and Brody nodded in the dark.
Whatever it was only lasted a short time. Then they heard the faraway, foreign sound of a diesel engine starting up. The men looked at each other, baffled.
“What the heck is going on out there?” Brody questioned the air in frustration.
A few more bursts of distant gunfire could be heard, but the vehicle grew louder as it drew closer, obviously taking the road out of town. More gunfire at the checkpoint, followed by three distinct rifle shots in town. Then a deep quiet settled over the area; even their breathing sounded loud. They waited a few more minutes, but hearing no screams or distress from Beth Ann, they turned toward home and hustled to beat the dawn.
***
Beth Ann awoke gradually, like wading through a thick stupor. It might have been the intense pounding in her head that woke her, or it could have been the roar of a truck engine being pushed to its climbing limits, or perhaps the way her aching body bounced on the hard, corrugated surface. She tried to reach up to feel her head, but her hands were tied together. That’s the moment she really, fully awoke. She opened her eyes wide. Even in the dark she could tell there was a rough cloth covering her face...her whole head, in fact. The claustrophobia, the flashbacks of being lost in the dark as a child, the memory of being hit on the head trying to get to Meghan’s apartment, her brother, the retreat, Brody–it all came back to her at once. She started to hyperventilate. Who had her? Where were they taking her? Did anyone know she was gone? Over the noise and the fear, Beth Ann thought she heard crying. Was it her own, or was she not alone? Mercifully, the darkness claimed her again. The answers would have to wait.