Beyond the Barriers (6 page)

I didn’t slow down to see if it smashed in his head.

The next light was just about as bad, but a side street called to me—one I knew well from my years of living in the little city. I shot down it into a residential neighborhood that led me to another side street. I ran parallel to the main drag for a while, but jetted down yet another street before emerging onto a lightly traveled road. It took a long time to get back to highway 322, but once I reached it, I was only on it for a few minutes before jumping onto a tiny, two-lane road. Home free at last.

* * *

I was on the outskirts of the Vesper Lake when something reassuring came into view.

A half mile ahead, I saw a row of military vehicles pulled into an orderly line along the side of the road. A group of men were piling out of a Humvee, while a pair rolled pylons across the street.

After the day I had, it put a smile on my face to see some response from the military. It didn’t matter if they were National Guard or the Marines. They could have landed a platoon for all I cared. They were here, offering some sort of protection.

I slowed down as I neared the men. I laid the shotgun in the front seat next to me, so that if anyone looked in, they would know I was armed but not an immediate threat. I considered putting it in the back, on the floor where it was less likely to be seen, but what was the point after the day I was having, and I was pretty sure others were in the same boat.

Two men dressed in camouflaged gear were in the process of maneuvering a heavy, concrete-filled barrel into place on the side of the road. A man dressed in jeans and a t-shirt jumped down from the back of a military transport. Others milled around a guy that gestured around the location. From the back, all I caught was grey hair shaved close to the skull.

As I rolled to a stop, I waited for someone to come out and challenge me. No one did, so I pulled forward until I was level with the guys moving the barrel.

“What’s the word?” I called after rolling down my window.

“Fucked. That’s a word I would choose.” One man said without looking up at me.

The other smiled and ignored me.

“So you guys army?”

“Something like that. We’re all they could call up on short notice. Some of us didn’t even have time to get our shit together, like Timmons over there—in the comfortable clothes.” He gestured to the guy in the t-shirt.

I caught the eye of the older man as he came over. He moved with a sure step and didn’t take his eyes of me. He wore a pair of snake skin boots that gleamed in the sun. I felt like getting out and saluting, maybe reporting for duty. Some men are just made for the job he obviously had. The job of being in charge and making sure stuff gets done.

He nodded, so I nodded back as he came around the front of the car.

“Heading out of town?” he inquired in a baritone that probably boomed when the need called for it.

“I was thinking about it. Depends on what’s out there.”

“I’ll tell you what is behind you. A whole world of hurt.” He grimaced.

I nodded. A couple of men rolled another barrel into place right next to my SUV. They nodded at the older man, and then looked at me like I was dirt.

“Don’t mind them. We’ve been together for a long while.” He gestured toward the men. When he lifted his head, I noticed a fine scar running from his chin to his neck.

“The name’s Tragger.” I stuck my hand out the window. I don’t know what possessed me to try and make a new best friend. The camaraderie of the military does that. Even though I had been out for a while, it felt like the right thing to do.

“I’m Lee.” He shook my hand.

Lee, huh? Was that a first name or last? His hand was strong, calloused. So was mine. We didn’t bother testing each other.

“So are you going to read me the riot act now? Explain why I should go home and wait it out?”

“It’s your life, son. I don’t really care where you’re going. My orders are to hold position here until we get other orders. You understand about orders?”

“I was in the army for a while.”

“You have the look. Things are getting crazy. We could use another man with some experience. You know much about that weapon?” He nodded at my gun.

“Enough. I know a lot more about some of the automatics your men are carrying.”

He glanced at his crew as they continued setting up the roadblock.

“I didn’t see any insignia. You guys National Guard?”

“Something like that. Let’s just say we have been together a long time, and we plan to watch each other’s back.”

“And this outfit you’re in, they allow shoes like that?” I glanced toward his boots.

“Damnedest thing. When the call came out, I didn’t have my regular boots. I think my wife put them in the attic somewhere. Anyway, these were the only shoes I had at hand that weren’t soft.” He grinned.

I didn’t bother pursing the matter of what branch he represented. Lee had his secrets, and I didn’t care to know any more about them. Whatever these guys were up to was none of my business. But a sense of unease settled over me. A feeling I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I decided it was in my best interest to move along and follow my original plan to strike for the cabin.

Before I could offer a goodbye, a man ran out of the trees like he was being chased by fire. Lee’s head shot up to take in the sight, then he started calling out orders. Men piled out of one of the transports with guns in hand. Some were ready, but others fumbled for magazines.

“If you want to get your hands dirty, feel free to break out that cannon and help out. Just don’t get in the way. And don’t let any of my men shoot you.” He smiled. His teeth were yellowed—probably a lifetime smoker. One tooth was missing on the left side, and it gave him a garish look.

I sat for a few seconds, unsure what to do. These guys could probably handle a small army. Already they were taking cover where they could. Rifles were lowered, and someone was even putting together a large machine gun.

I could just drive away. Leave them to handle whatever was coming. I could put the automatic stick in D and just make for the cabin. I was just one guy and they were many. Would my little shotgun make that much of a difference?

I looked after Lee as he strode away. He tugged a large caliber handgun out of a holster at his side. His feet kicked up dust as he made a beeline for the trees.

I stopped when the first thing came out of the woods. The road in this location ran straight through the City of Vesper Lake, and ended in the city of Auburn before winding around to the mountains. A pair of cars came from the direction of town and swerved to avoid us. Why didn’t I follow their lead and punch it?

I opened the door and stepped out. Emptying a box of shells on the seat, I pushed a few into my pockets then reloaded the gun as I followed Lee.

There was just one at first—a man in his twenties, with a halo of blood dripping from his forehead. It splattered on his bright blue bowling shirt, then cascaded down around a huge wound in his abdomen. This person should have been on the ground howling in pain, or dead.

One of the men didn’t hesitate. He raised his M-16 and fired a shot that took the guy right between the eyes. His body flopped back and thumped on the ground. Whatever had pulled his strings was now severed.

A few more broke free of the woods. I felt the hair on the back of my neck come to attention. A chill struck me, like I had just stepped into a freezer. What was I doing here?

Lee didn’t have any trouble. He raised his hand cannon and blew one of them away.

Several more came from behind us, in the direction I had driven. My gun was at my chin in a split second, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. Shots echoed all around me. Calls of “Good shot!” and “Nice one.” Didn’t affect me with any sense of peace at what we were doing.

It horrified me.

Not so long ago, I had killed to protect. So how was this any different?

A large man shambled toward me. I had no choice. I aimed low and blew his lower leg back. His knee disappeared as it splattered all over the pavement. He went down hard, but he didn’t stop. He dragged his body along the ground as he kept coming at me. His eyes locked on mine and they were dead—devoid of any kind of life.

I shook as I lowered the gun and pumped a ball of pain into his head. He flopped so hard that his head bounced back up and came to rest on a smashed nose. Brain and gore stained the ground, but I looked away.

* * *

The fight was brief.

Lee’s men stopped to congratulate each other. Some kept their eyes and weapons trained on the trees. Others went over their weapons while comparing stories of shooting brain-dead people to death. I didn’t feel the fire I had felt earlier. All I felt was empty. I was planning to leave, drive up the road a few miles, then throw up.

“Are you alright, son?”

Lee had come up beside me, while I stared at the body of a woman. She lay on her back, one arm at an odd angle over her head. Her other arm hung by stringy sinew.

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you move out? I don’t think you have the stomach for this.”

“No one should have the stomach for this.” My reply caught him off guard.

Lee stared at the bodies.

Back in my enlisted days, there was an enemy that wanted to shoot me. Somehow, that justified shooting back, at least in my mind. These were just people. They didn’t understand what they were doing.

“Tell you what. We have a lot of food. I’ll give you some, and a little water. You head out, and if you think you want to come back and join us, do that. Otherwise it was nice to meet you. Now fuck off and all that stuff.” Lee had a grin on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

I liked Lee from the moment I had met him, but now I wondered at his motivation. Who had given him orders, and why weren’t his men wearing any sort of insignia?

The car roared to life, and, as I drove off, I caught his stare in the rearview mirror. He didn’t lift his hand to wave. He didn’t smile. He just watched me go.

I flipped through radio stations. Some of them were running the emergency broadcast system messages. Then announcers came on in prerecorded voices, advising people to get to safe places until things were under control. A list of buildings ran, which included schools, probably for the large auditoriums, and military bases, where people would be let into cleared locations.

I jumped around some more because I didn’t care for the bad news piling up. I came across a talk radio show where people were calling in and sharing their experiences. It saddened me when a kid no more than nine or ten called in and wanted to know what to do about his father, who was sick but locked in their basement. He wanted to see if his dad was okay.

The guy on the radio was at a loss for words, and I wondered how often that happened. He told the boy, after a moment, that he had called the police, and when the men in uniform showed up, he should let them in.

I flipped to a music channel and drove toward the hills.

The trees grew thicker along the side of the road as I drove on into the night. A fine mist of rain dropped from the sky, but didn’t stick around long enough to get the car wet. I beat at it with the windshield wipers and cranked up the brights as the car hummed along the old highway. I had the window open, and the smell of fresh, clean air with a touch of pine rushed into the car. We drove this way a few years ago, Allison and I, but it looked just like every hilly road I had ever been on.

A group of motorcycles shot by. They had been drawing closer in my rearview mirror for a few seconds before they caught up and passed me. They slowed for a mile or two then sped up. When I got to the area where they had slowed, I found a big yellow sign with a ‘Falling Rocks’ warning.

For the next few hours, I drove steadily upward as my car sought the top of the pass. I lost myself in thought, and changed the channel like a kid with ADD. Sometimes I tried to focus on what was being said, really said. There was a virus of unknown origin; it made people sick and most died. Within moments, sometimes seconds, the dead came back to life. It was the stuff of nightmares and late-night B movies. I couldn’t stand to think it was serious, and yet I had killed two men with my own hands in the last six hours.

I came to the cutoff, and saw the familiar sign for a deer crossing. I took the turn and came to a fence with a big padlock on it. The fence itself was old and rickety, but the lock was shiny and new. On either side of the dirt road, trees reached into the dark. There was no way I could drive around it. I shut off my lights and let my eyes get used to the dark.

The moon was out, but it was barely visible through the clouds that had rolled in over the past hour. I stared into the night and thought about my day. It ran through my mind in slow motion—the trip to the store, the dealings with the clerk at the gun counter. I wondered if he had taken my advice and gone home to protect his family with the shotgun I pulled out.

I eased the car forward until the bumper kissed the gate, and then gave it a little gas. The fence, from what I had seen, was an old wooden pair of slats that someone had nailed onto much larger chunks of wood. It may have been a better gate at one point, but now it was just a makeshift barrier that I hoped wouldn’t stand up to much pressure.