Alaskan Undead Apocalypse (Book 4): Resolution (28 page)

“Then why keep trying?” Emma asked.

“I don’t know if I can anymore.”

Emma, her voice full of empathy, said,
“Jerry, I know how you’re feeling and I hope you understand that.
I’m hurting too, and so is Neil. We’ve all been through so much in
such a short stretch of time. But I figure, if those two kids,
Danny and especially Jules, can get through all of this with what
they’ve been through, then I don’t have much of an excuse to not be
able to cut it too. Those two aren’t even teenagers yet and they
keep going. They don’t have the coping skills or the experience
that any of us have and they haven’t given up yet. So what gives me
the right to think that it’s okay that I do? That’s what I ask
myself every day and that’s what keeps me going.”

Jerry started crying and had to take the
binoculars away from his eyes. He said through a chest-constricting
sob, “It’s just so
hard
. I’d never felt
like that before and never had any girl show that kind of interest
in me. She loved me. That was a first for me. And now she’s just
gone. I couldn’t do anything to protect her or save her. What does
that say about me? She’s just... gone.”

Their conversation was cut short when Neil
and William came walking up the driveway. They had the walk of men
who had recently seen battle, with heavily hanging arms and slung
rifles. The men weren’t talking with one another or looking
around.

Danielle, on the porch below, asked, “How is
the Cove?”

Emma heard William answer somberly but
couldn’t make out what he said.

Jerry could feel Emma’s agitation, so he
said, “Go on down there and find out what happened. I’ll stay up
here and keep an eye on things.”

Emma touched his shoulder and then hugged
him warmly. She could still sense Jerry’s sadness and understood
that he wanted some time to grieve quietly, in private.

“What happened?” Emma asked, coming down the
stairs.

Neil sat down in a big, padded chair, looked
down at this boots and said to William, “Sorry about the
floor.”

“That’s okay,” William said. “It
happens.”

Feeling a little anxious, Emma asked again,
“So? What happened?”

Neil related to all of them what had
happened at Norman’s lodge but kept his tale to the facts, avoiding
the grisly details. He explained that they had left Mia with Gordon
and Betsy but mentioned nothing about Tom.

Before the two men left Gordon’s home, Mia,
Neil and William went upstairs. Mia sat next to Tom, who was still
unconscious, thanked him for saving her life, and promised to honor
his sacrifice in whatever way she could. She shed some tears for
her friend while Neil and William sat and watched. They tried to
give her room but kept a steady eye on the rising and falling of
Tom’s chest.

After a few minutes, Mia left the room in
tears, leaving only Neil and William standing over her stricken
friend. William asked if there was a good way to do it to which
Neil responded, “There’s never a good way to kill someone.”

That’s when it hit William. Never in a
million years did he ever think he would be contemplating actually
killing someone. This was unknown territory for him. Neil wrapped
Tom’s head in a white cotton pillowcase and shot him, using the
pillow to both mute the sound and shield the two of them from any
potential splatter.

They came back downstairs and left with
barely a word more to Gordon, Betsy, or Mia. Gordon assured them
both that he and his wife would look after Mia. The short walk back
to William’s was spent silently, with only their footsteps to keep
them company.

Back at home, William could only think about
eating. He and Jess went to the kitchen and started to peel and
slice potatoes and vegetables, adding them to a stew pot with a
hunk of moose roast. That meal would take a bit to finish, so
William put together a snack of Pilot Bread peanut butter and jelly
sandwiches and chips to hold everyone over. The room was filled
with the sound of satisfied crunching and munching, as they quickly
devoured the hardtack-like bread slathered with the sweet and salty
goodness.

While this was happening, a despondent
Danielle found Jerry still on the balcony. She asked, trying to
fake a smile, “Is this the grieving room?”

Jerry wiped his eyes but felt no tears or
other evidence of his grief. He had no idea he wore it on his face
like a mask. Danielle sat in the chair vacated by Emma only moments
before and looked out absently into the forest.

“This is the kind of place my dad would have
liked to have brought us for a family vacation,” Jerry said. “It’s
so peaceful here and quiet. He worked for years at the Wonder
Bakery on Spenard until he hurt his back and couldn’t work there
anymore. That was pretty much it for us and any family
vacations.”

“Maybe I’ve got something in here that might
be able to help a little.” Danielle fished around in her backpack
and pulled out an ornate bottle filled with alcohol. “I grabbed
this for Gus, but he didn’t make it back sooooo...” She handed the
bottle to Jerry.

He considered it for a moment, then twisted
off the lid. Jerry had never been much of a hard liquor drinker,
but he was willing to make an exception today. He sniffed the
opening and recoiled for a moment. He was about to hand the bottle
back but then looked over at the pretty woman who was smiling at
him coyly. He grinned back and took a drink without thinking about
it.

The fiery liquid scorched his throat and
burned his nose. His belly warmed immediately and his fingertips
felt more distant than normal for a second or two. He handed the
bottle back to Danielle.

“I really shouldn’t. Alcohol wreaks havoc on
diabetics, but...” Danielle tipped the bottle forward and filled
her mouth, wincing as she swallowed it down. “I guess exceptions
can be made under the circumstances.”

Jerry reached over to take the bottle again.
After several drinks back and forth, Danielle said, “Gus only went
along because I needed my medicine. He was a good man. He said that
he came along to get booze, but that wasn’t it. He reminded me of
my brother in a lot of ways.”

Jerry held the bottle up to the woods in a
toast and then poured another mouthful down his throat. “That’s for
Gus...the good man.”

Danielle sat quietly for several moments and
then said, “I probably should’ve taken some insulin before this
little session, but it was worth it. Thank you.” She kissed Jerry’s
forehead warmly and went back inside.

Jerry had another couple of drinks until
only a few mouthfuls remained in the bottle. By the time he
wandered inside and joined everyone for dinner, he was well on his
way toward being drunk. The meal was lively though and raised his
spirits. They shared laughs and stories, as well as the most
satisfying meal most of them had eaten for months.

In the middle of it, Jules asked innocently,
“Is this Thanksgiving?”

Her question brought all conversations to a
profound and very loud stop. They all looked at one another for a
long moment, no one quite sure how to answer her question.

Jess, the only mother in their group,
answered for all of them, “Does it feel like Thanksgiving?”

Jules thought for a second while she chewed
on a red potato on the end of her fork. She nodded. “Kind of. There
was always more food than we could eat and lots of talking and
tellin’ stories. Just like today. Only, Mommy and Daddy and Martin
and Alec would be here too. It wouldn’t be just me. Mommy would
cook all day and people would come over and bring food and stuff.
There would be lots of visitors...this time I guess I’m the
visitor.”

William set his glass of water down.
“Child,” he said warmly, “this is as much your home as it is mine.
You’re no visitor here. And I can’t think of a better name for
today than Thanksgiving.”

It was nice for all of them to hear William
say that. Having a place they could all call home, even for the
briefest of moments, was refreshing. Most of the places they had
seen over the past few months could hardly have been considered
homes. Many times, those places smacked more of a prison than a
refuge.

Staring into the partially open Whittier
Tunnel gate, Carter couldn’t see more than a few feet into the
gloom. He’d seen dark in his life, but he’d never seen
this
dark. He’d been in caves well below the surface of
the Earth that didn’t seem as purely pitch. He wondered if it was
Whittier waiting on the other side or perhaps Hell, or maybe
worse.

The air was stale and still carried the
acrid aroma of spent fuel, which permeated the walls, floor, and
ceiling of the tunnel. It was colder too, the darkness having
leached all warmth from the air as it sat and waited to be
released; as inviting as a snake pit at night.

Was revenge worth all this? The Colonel
certainly thought it was, so Carter was inclined in that direction
as well. His resolve was certainly challenged when considering the
path they would have to take though.

In the past, when Carter had been faced with
difficult challenges in his studies or his training with Sullivan,
Colonel Bear talked him through those moments. The Colonel would
have Carter close his eyes and envision the positive result he
sought. He called it positive self-actualization or something to
that effect. Carter wasn’t sure if it had contributed to his
successes or not, but he did find himself overcoming any hurdle
that presented itself.

Carter closed his eyes again and tried to
see beyond the dark. Try as he might though, he couldn’t see
anything. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t quite sure what their
goal was once in Whittier. He didn’t know if they were going there
to take control of the city and start again, or if they were
seeking vengeance.

Opening his eyes again, he realized it
didn’t matter. If the Colonel said they were going to Whittier,
then they were going to Whittier. It was just that basic for
Carter. The Colonel called the shots and Carter made sure everyone
followed his lead. It wasn’t his job to question or doubt.

Carter knew many of the others didn’t
understand what they were doing and probably didn’t agree with most
of it. None of that mattered either. They didn’t have to understand
or agree with any of it. They just had to listen and follow orders,
and that was Carter’s job. He made sure everyone did what he or she
was told to do. He ruthlessly and publicly squelched any dissent,
as was evident at that very moment.

Oscar, Cody’s apprentice, was dangling at
the end of a rope tied to a tall sign hanging over the roadway. His
legs had stopped kicking and struggling a few moments earlier as
the life finally vacated his lungs. His face was already becoming a
bright purple as the mortal effects of asphyxiation began to
register in the man’s expression and complexion.

Colonel Bear wanted to leave a group behind
to keep watch on this side of the tunnel. He was concerned that if
they closed the door, they wouldn’t be able to open it again.
Considering it imprudent and perhaps suicidal to traverse the long
tunnel with potentially no way out behind them and finding the city
overrun with skins, the Colonel wanted to leave his options
open.

Cody and Oscar and a small group of reliable
men would stay at the control station. Oscar, already sitting in
the back seat of one of the trucks, had refused to budge. He said
it was crazy to stay behind, a death sentence. He went so far as to
suggest that Carter and the Colonel might as well just kill him
right then and save him the suspense.

Carter had smiled and walked over to the
truck. He told Oscar it was his last chance to get out and do his
duty for the rest of them. Oscar neither said a word nor moved from
his seat. Carter smiled a serpent’s grin and forcefully pulled a
protesting and struggling Oscar from his seat.

Dragging him by both his hair and his coat,
Carter manhandled him across the pavement without saying another
word. He pointed to Harrison and Belke, two very loyal militiamen,
and then to a rope. It wasn’t a rope actually. It was a spool of
rubber-wrapped telecommunication cable.

Oscar was blubbering and begging for his
life. As Carter wrapped the hastily tied noose around Oscar’s neck
and tightened it, Oscar screamed, “Nooooo! I’ll stay behind like
you asked. I’ll stayyyyyy!!!!!”Carter looked down at him and then
at everyone else watching in shocked silence. Carter said, “Of
course you will. And I didn’t
ask
you to do
nothin’. That was an order, motherfucker!”

He pointed to Harrison who then signaled
Belke sitting at the wheel of an SUV. The vehicle jolted forward
quickly, pulling the cable tight, yanking Oscar up. His legs were
mere feet from the pavement but it was enough.

Oscar tried unsuccessfully to force his
hands, unbound and flailing, under the constricted cable around his
neck; the knot too was firmly tied and unwilling to loosen. When
his hands finally fell to his sides, everyone knew Oscar only had
seconds remaining.

Carter said to those handpicked to remain
behind, “Oscar will keep an eye out for all of you. He’ll do his
job now. When I get back, he better still be there.
Understand?”

His question was met with consenting nods
and nothing else. He’d made his point abundantly clear to all of
them. He wanted them all to understand they needed to fear him a
hell of a lot more than the most terrifying monsters in their worst
nightmares. He wanted them to understand that all those monsters…
worked for him.

Looking at the entire group, including a
somewhat stunned Colonel Bear, Carter knew that he had their
attention and that there would be no more open dissent ever. He
looked at Cody. “And you. Find another apprentice.”