Camp Zero (Book 2): State of Shock (11 page)

“Four years. All the time it was the same. Too busy working. But he wasn’t too busy to drink, was he?” He shook his head and tossed a stick out into the rain.

Rain was quickly turning the ground into a small stream. The banks were high but with the amount of downpour, I had visions of it overflowing in the night and being swept away.

“What about you?”

“Not much to say really. Before Brett and Jodi, my previous father’s idea of camping was having me lug his shit around and bring him beers while his kids went off and did all the things I should have been doing.”

“That’s rough.”

“That’s mild,” I replied.

There was a pause as if Billy was contemplating what to say next. “What were you hoping for?”

I turned to him. “Not much.” I snorted. “My whole life has felt like a prison sentence. I used to ask some of the other kids in foster care what they wanted if they could start again. Most wished they were born into a wealthy family, so they didn’t want for anything. Not me. I just wanted a family that treated me like a son, not a slave.”

Billy nodded. We heard a branch snap and both of us reached for our guns. We listened intently waiting for more movement but it never occurred. We notched it up to animals or a fallen tree limb.

“Where are we going after this?”

“Head north back to the camp.”

“No, I mean after… if we get Murphy and Shaw out. There’s no bunker left.”

“Maybe we’ll return to Mount Pleasant. It’s still there. Or, we join with the others. They seem like good people.”

He nodded and dug a piece of stick deep into the soft soil.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that we pass people every day on the street and most of the time, we don’t even look them in the eye. But then something like this happens and people can’t help look you in the eye?”

“Fear, I guess. People don’t trust each other.”

I slipped out into the rain to do one last check before we tried to get some shut-eye. It was dark now and other than a few small shards of light that came from the crescent moon, we were cloaked in darkness.

W
aking up the next day
, I was greeted by the sound of Billy taking a piss up a tree. While the shelter had kept the water off us, it had been cold and now my bones ached. I eased out and cocked my head from side to side to work out the tension. It was like being back at Camp Zero. At least there we had the tarps to keep the cold from entering our body.

The night before we had piled sticks together to keep off the ground which had been turned into a shallow stream. With the break of dawn, it was no longer raining and the sun was already filtering in through the trees. Billy glanced over his shoulder.

“I thought you were going to sleep all morning.”

He zipped up and turned back around. “Here,” Billy tossed me a half-eaten granola bar he had in his pocket.

“Is this even edible?”

“I only opened it last night.”

“You never told me you had food.”

He went a slight shade of red. “I was hungry. I thought you would want some so I didn’t tell you. After I ate half I felt guilty so I kept the rest for you. I’ll eat it if you don’t want it.”

I bit into it immediately.

With no matches, no flint, and no way to start a fire because all the wood around us was soaking wet, we headed out. It didn’t take long before we returned to the highway. There was a dead horse on the side of the road, no truck or men, but a whole lot of shattered glass and ammo shells.

“Either Corey made it or they killed him and took the truck.”

Cautiously we walked up the embankment and back onto the road. I looked around for tire marks. Anything to indicate that he might have slipped off the road into the ditch but there were none.

“How long do you think it’ll take us to make it back to camp?”

“At least two hours by foot.”

Billy’s stomach grumbled. “I’m starving.”

“Try not to think about it. We have a lot of miles to cover.”

“What about seeing if we can shoot a rabbit or—”

“We can’t risk it. We don’t know if they are camping around here.”

The last thing we needed was to draw attention to ourselves.

“Do you remember what Dan said about which plants could be eaten?”

I scoffed. “No. I can barely remember any of it except some of the basics.”

Dan had taken us through what kind of things we could eat if we were stranded in the middle of nowhere. He had mentioned certain types of plants but I couldn’t remember which ones or even what they looked like. They were all the same to me. But the insects, those I remembered. He said ants, crickets, wasps, grasshoppers and beetles were all good sources of protein. Grasshoppers had 20g and crickets 100g of protein, plus iron and zinc.

“Hunt around for an ant nest.”

“Screw that.”

I laughed. Billy had been completely against eating ants while the rest of us had tried them. He said he would rather starve than have something crawling around inside his mouth.

We pressed on until we reached the turnoff for Old Wake Road. It wasn’t exactly a road as it was an off-the-path muddy trail that hunters had used in the past to get into the middle of Kootenai National Forest. We stayed close to the trail but kept inside the tree line so we wouldn’t be out in the open. We must have been walking for over an hour. As we came over a rise in the road, we saw a truck in the distance.

“You think that’s…”

“I dunno.”

We were crouched down and looking through the trees for any movement. Had they managed to stop the truck? Was Corey’s body inside?

“Cover me, I’m going over and taking a look.”

Billy grabbed my arm. “And if it’s a trap?”

“Then get ready to run.”

I pulled away and moved quietly through the brush until I was level with the vehicle. I glanced to my left and right one last time before I stepped out and approached carefully. I noticed that the back tires were flat, and the metal sides were riddled with bullet holes. The first thing I checked was the cab. It was empty. The door on the passenger side was wide open. I hopped in and checked for signs of blood. There was none. I glanced in the back and noticed only a few supplies. That wasn’t a good sign. There was no way that one person could have lugged all that out of there. I figured it had to have been the same guys from the night before. Perhaps Corey had driven the truck as far as he could go before the tires went flat. He would have had to abandon the vehicle. I just wanted to shout his name but as they might have still been within earshot.

I double-timed it back over to Billy who looked anxious.

“Nothing.”

“Where the hell is he?”

“They took some of the weapons.”

We were deep in the forest but not so far from camp that Corey wouldn’t have been able to get back. Billy rose from the ditch and went over to take a look.

“Any blood on the seat?”

“None.”

“So he’s still alive.”

“Let’s hope so.”

We continued on down the trail until we saw the first of three hunting cabins. They were mainly little shacks in the middle of nowhere. Simple one-bedroom, run-down huts that were used by campers on weekends. We might have passed them by if Billy hadn’t seen one of the soldiers lying dead in the dirt driveway. Flies buzzed around him and he was beginning to smell. Billy flashed me a glance but didn’t say anything. I signaled for him to go into the trees on one side of the path while I took the other. We moved in unison up to the shack all the while staying quiet and out of view. Further up the trail there was another dead soldier. I couldn’t see from where I was where the bullet had struck, only that he was motionless. It had to have been Corey. I figured that they must have blown the tires on the truck and he’d managed to make it so far down the trail before it gave out on him. The soldiers could have caught up which meant he would have sought cover in one of the cabins.

I so badly wanted to call out his name but there was no telling if the others were nearby. I assumed they weren’t because if the truck was partially empty they must have hauled away what they could on horseback but not before attacking Corey.

Ahead of us was a small shack. The porch looked as though it had seen better days. There were holes in the roof and no windows. All that covered them were wooden shutters. We continued moving around the sides. I spotted another dead soldier at the back of the cabin. His face was half blown off. The dead soldiers’ guns were still beside them, which made me believe that the others fled.

Billy signaled for me to move in. Slowly we approached the sealed cabin. I stepped out of the brush and cast a glance sideways checking for movement. Nothing. I kept my finger close to the trigger, my breathing quickened, as I got close.

“Corey,” Billy said.

Oh my god
, I couldn’t believe he had just shouted his name. I motioned for him to shut the hell up but he just waved me off. While Billy stepped up onto the porch I scanned the tree line preparing for the worst. All over the cabin were bullet holes.

It was silent except for the sound of the forest. Nature going about its business oblivious to the human horror around it. I was surprised to see that the bodies were still intact, I would have thought animals would have descended on them and eaten away the soft tissue, which made me wonder if this had all taken place in the early hours of the morning.

Satisfied that no one else was around, I joined Billy on the porch.

“Corey. You in there?”

I approached the door and gave it a push with the butt of my gun before stepping off to the side. I had seen too many movies of people getting blasted through doors. The door creaked open. Inside it was dark. Whoever had been there was gone. There was no movement. Inside it was very basic, a room that would have been used as a bedroom, and a living and kitchen area.

Billy gestured to a patch of blood in the corner of the room. It was a corner that Corey might have sat in, as it would have given him eyes on both the front and back door.

“He’s been hit.”

I went over to the window and cracked open the shutters to let more light in. That’s when we saw the trail of blood from the front door to the corner and then out the back. Neither one of us ran to see where it led, we followed the trail slowly keeping a good eye on the trees around us.

“Corey!” Billy shouted.

I backhanded Billy. “Would you shut the fuck up? You want to alert them to our presence?”

“They are long gone.”

Small droplets of blood could be seen on fallen leaves, twigs and the dirt. The trail led us towards the stream in the distance. We could hear the water rushing. Every now and again I would look back to the cabin just to check that no one was following us. Billy went ahead while I kept my eyes on the forest. As we came over a mound of dirt that led down a steep embankment, Billy was the first one to see him.

“Sam.”

I rushed from a few feet away while Billy slid down the incline to where Corey was lying. He was half in the water and half out. Billy checked his pulse.

“He’s still alive. But barely.”

His skin had become pale. He’d lost a lot of blood. Billy dragged him out of the water and Corey mumbled something.

“Hey you pudgy bastard, don’t you die on me.”

Billy tore his shirt open to expose the wound, washed it with handfuls of stream water and then ripped off a portion of his own shirt and used it as a bandage. He left it slightly open to allow for drainage. In the wilderness Dan had told us many stories from battle. One of which was when he had been stabbed and had to survive a day before getting treatment. He went on about how you could treat open wounds using maggot therapy, which meant leaving the wound exposed for a day to flies and then checking for maggots every day, and cleaning them off the wound once they had removed all the dead tissue. It was kind of sick. Billy acted as if he had heard every single word. “We don’t want it to get infected.”

We were at least twenty, maybe thirty minutes from camp and that was just a rough estimate; it could have been longer. Both of us hauled him up and that’s when we got a better look at the wound. He had been shot in the side of his lower back. Billy took one of his arms over his shoulder, I grabbed the other and we began hauling ass back through the forest.

A
fter being captured
by the Commander’s men, Shaw and I had been thrown inside a makeshift pen that had been erected in one of the parks of Hayden. According to the guard I had chatted to, the main jailhouse was already full of local folk unwilling to relinquish their weapons.

Over the past twenty-four hours I had been through every escape scenario in my mind. I had thought of attacking one of the guards as they brought in food, or overpowering one when they took us out to perform some of the menial tasks they didn’t want their soldiers doing, like digging the ditch and erecting the fence that was slowly being built around the town. I had seen the trucks enter and supplies taken out of the back. They were gathering all manner of things, food, clothes and metal, to create a fascist town governed by the Commander’s rules. The fence wasn’t being built to protect them, but to imprison them.

“Put your back into it,” a soldier yelled while keeping his AR on us. The guards stood at a distance to make sure that no one attempted to escape. Every day they had close to fifty of us working on that damn fence. Made to work in a line, there was one-armed soldier for every three people. Some stood behind, others in front. Realistically there was no way we could take them out even if I all fifty of us tried. We would have been shot before we made it within spitting distance. That however didn’t deter one man. He attempted to plow his way through them like an NFL football player and was brought down with one shot. It had infuriated the others so much that they tried to take back control. Rounds were fired, and more soldiers arrived to cart off the unruly into confinement.

There was a hefty price to pay for disobedience. They had built small steel huts outside and would throw anyone who was antagonistic into them for twenty-fours. In the heat of the day, they would sweat profusely and lose their mind. I’d seen one man get dragged out. His legs were limp, and his clothes drenched with sweat. He could barely stand from heat exhaustion. No, they had this entire operation working like clockwork.

I’d briefly seen Luke enter the camp. For a while I thought they were dead, but when that kid showed up it had given me a glimmer of hope. Then when he escaped, I knew there was a chance.

A soldier brought over a large plastic barrel of water. He plunked it down and scooped out some into a cup. “Come and get it.”

It was like being part of a chain gang except we weren’t linked together. One by one we approached him and drank from the single cup. It barely eased our parched throats. After swallowing they would send us back to continue. At the rate we were going the fence would be erected within a month, two at the most. I had tried to get answers to why they had chosen Hayden as a town to set up camp but the guard refused to answer. He was following orders and as long as they kept feeding him, he was more than happy to not know. There were three people ahead of me. I cast a glance back over my shoulder and squinted as the glare of the sun blinded me. I was looking back at how much fence had been erected. Work consisted of digging large holes for pillars. Posts would go in along with cement and then they were using rolled steel and mesh fencing, anything they could get their hands on in the local area. Some of it had been torn down from properties, the rest was carted in by trucks from out of town.

When I reached the water boy, as I liked to call him, he fished into the water and handed me the cup. I was about to drink it when it was knocked out of my hand.

“He doesn’t get any water.”

“What?”

One of the soldiers had taken a disliking to me after finding out that I had previously been a SEAL. Apparently, and I was only going by what the guard said, the guy had attempted to get into the SEALs back before the world went to shit. He didn’t get in and so he was taking out his frustration and dislike by withholding water.

“You heard me. Now get back to work.”

“I won’t be able to work if I don’t get a drink. It’s hot out here.”

“Are you still here?” He went to shove me with his gun but I caught hold of it. Before I could pry it from him, another soldier came in close and pointed his rifle at me.

“Let it go.”

“Yeah, when I get a drink.”

“Davis, give the man a drink,” a voice bellowed from a short distance away. I turned to see the Commander making his way over. He was taking in the sight of the fence. The Commander was a large man who towered over most of his followers. My first impression was that he was a drill instructor. He had a hard look to his face, a jaw that was slightly off center and tattoos that covered his arms. His hair was a short buzz cut, gray and yet nothing about him besides that would make you think that he was any older than forty-five. He pointed in the direction of the fence and told several of his men that he wanted a certain section to be reinforced. By reinforced, he meant using another layer of fencing to ensure that people couldn’t get out, or get in.

“You’re doing a good job, people. Once this is up, life will get a little easier for you all.”

The soldier known as Davis gave me a drink. I watched the other one glare at me while I gulped it down. My throat was parched and after being refused water two times that morning I could have drunk the entire barrel. I gestured my appreciation to the Commander with a nod and returned back to the line.

I continued hacking away at the hard earth for another ten minutes before Davis came over and told me that the Commander wanted to see me in his office.

“Now?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

I tossed down my pickaxe and wiped the sweat from my brow. On the way over to his office, which was situated inside a stately manor four streets over, I asked Davis about the soldier who had denied the water.

“What’s the name of the guy who denied me water?”

“Sax?”

“Is that what they call him?”

“His name’s Gord Saxon but most of the guys just refer to him as Sax.”

“What’s his problem other than the fact that he knows I used to be a SEAL?”

“He has it in for everyone. If he had his way, he would be the Commander. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was his father.”

“That’s his father?” I glanced back at him trying to see the resemblance. “Now it makes sense.”

Davis looked at me. “You need to be careful. I don’t agree with everything the Commander does but right now he’s making sure there is food on plates and a warm bed to lay in. That’s more than can be said for our government.”

I trudged forward, my body aching from swinging that axe.

“How did you end up here?”

He looked around. “I shouldn’t be talking to you really but what the heck. Our crew, well some of them were stationed in the Pacific when all this went down. When we returned to land it was every man for himself. There was no order, no direction, Army, Navy, Air Force, everyone was just trying to get back to family. It was pure chaos. Anyway, I returned to my town that was close to Boise, but that place had been hit. The Commander and his men had blocked off the road leading in. At that time, he offered protection, food and a way to survive if we came along with him. My home was in the city. It was destroyed. He offered hope.” He looked around at the soldiers patrolling. “That’s what he gives these men.”

“But he’s taken over the town and removed weapons.”

“Do you blame him? Things are out of control right now. Society can’t return to normal if everyone is pointing a gun at each other. We have to start somewhere. The Commander isn’t going to hold on to those weapons forever.”

“But imprisoning people. You don’t see anything wrong in that?”

“The last town we went through no one was imprisoned. People gladly handed over their weapons and were willing to join. I can’t speak for anyone else but I know that what he’s doing here is in our best interest. It’s for our safety. Your safety.”

I scoffed. When we arrived at the manor, soldiers were posted at the front, along the sides and according to Davis, at the rear. Certainly the Commander had made damn sure that he was protected. He was acting as though he was president and the manor was the White House.

Davis led me up to the door and then inside. Whoever owned the home before must have been extremely wealthy as it had marble floors, expensive décor and numerous artworks prominently displayed all over the walls in every room.

Davis knocked on a pair of redwood double doors.

“Come in.”

He gestured to me and I entered. Inside the room were three soldiers stationed nearby to keep a watch over him.

“Ah, come. Can I get you a drink?”

He stood by a bar that had numerous liquors. “Just water.” The Commander nodded to one of his men and he went over to a fridge and retrieved a bottle. He handed it to me and I twisted off the cap. It had been a while since I’d tasted clean water. I chugged it down in one go.

“Thirsty?”

“When your men deny people the basics, that’s what happens.”

“Yes. I’m sorry about that. Be assured it won’t happen again. My son is a little tense with all the recent killings of our men.”

“Killings?”

He scratched at his chin and leaned back against a large mahogany desk before sipping on a glass of bourbon. “It’s part of the reason why I wanted to bring you in. It’s come to my attention that you were a SEAL. Is that right?”

I stared at him before nodding.

“We could use a man of your expertise. I certainly don’t want to have you stuck out there digging holes. You are much more valuable to this community working alongside us.”

“A community. Is that what you call it?”

He chuckled. “I understand you might have your doubts about what I am doing here but in time it will become clear. In fact, what I am trying to do will go down in history books, mark my word.”

“Like the way Hitler treated the Jews?”

He blew out his cheeks. “That’s a little below the belt.”

“Is it? You have women and good men locked up out there. This isn’t a community, it’s a concentration camp. At least if you are going to talk shit, be honest.”

He snorted and began pacing the room. I contemplated rushing him but his soldiers would have shot before I got close. The Commander kept his distance.

“Tell me, what is your name?”

I hesitated before I replied. “Scot Murphy.”

“And what rank did you hold, Murphy?”

“Lieutenant.”

“Having been in the front line you know that war is not black and white. There are a lot of gray areas. Decisions have to be made that Washington wouldn’t understand. I’m sure you have been on missions where you were given instructions to bring order where there was chaos, yes?”

I nodded.

“Then you of all people should understand that before peace can come, there must be a time of discomfort. Would you allow hostiles to do whatever they wanted in a village that you were told to help?”

“But you’re not helping people.”

He took a large drink from his glass then went around the table, popped open a lid and pulled out a cigar. He cut the end off and placed it between his lips. After striking a match, he twisted the cigar and evenly burned the end. Large plumes of gray and white smoke masked his face.

“That’s how it appears but three months, six months or a year from now, these people will thank me.”

“Thank you? You kill those who oppose you.”

“I haven’t killed anyone,” he snapped back. “Anyone who is dead, killed themselves. We are living in a new country right now. Out there, it’s chaos. You haven’t seen it, have you?”

Country?
I shook my head.

“That’s right. You haven’t seen the cities destroyed, the dead lining the streets from here to Boise, or the ones who are disfigured, or the ones who will kill to get the basics. This is war, my friend. We are at war right now. And the enemy is at our door. What I am building out there,” he said as he walked over to the window and surveyed the town, “this will become our salvation, something free of pain and misery. You are right, it’s not just a community we are building. It’s a country.”

I scoffed thinking this guy had completely lost the plot.

“A small country, I might add but one that will be free of the rules. A community that will rise from the ashes and show others that we can rebuild and start again.”

“And let me guess. You are the president of this new country?”

“Appointed by the people,” he replied turning back with a smug smile on his face.

“By who?”

“Look around you. They understand what I am doing here. While other towns and cities will struggle to reestablish themselves, we will thrive here under a new system. People will eat, have warm beds and will put in an honest day’s work. But until I can determine who can be trusted, everyone will be treated as a potential threat. I think you understand.”

“I understand that what you are doing here is wrong. It’s not your place to determine for others how they will live, what they will do and if they can bear arms. These people have rights.”

He let out a laugh. “Listen to yourself. Wake up, lieutenant. Do you really think that this was the land of the free before all of this happened? You were a slave to a system. You ate because you worked. Someone else governed everything you did. I’m not the enemy here, lieutenant. No matter how you try to spin this. I am here to ensure the survival of our country.” He motioned towards the window. “Out there. There is no country. It doesn’t exist. There are people who are lost and wandering like sheep without a shepherd. I’m going to shepherd them and lead them back to safety. That fence I am building is the beginning of that safety for us. I know you think I am doing this for me but you are wrong, lieutenant. I’m doing this for you. For them! For the United States.”

“And under what authority?”

“Decreed by the president himself.”

“You are out of your mind.”

He continued to walk the length of the room as though it was the Oval Office.

“Mark my words, lieutenant. You will thank me later. Now I brought you in today for one reason… to find out if you are with me or against me? So… what is it, lieutenant? Are you willing to work alongside me and help build something that is a sure thing? Where I can guarantee that you and your loved ones are safe, cared for and thrive, or do I need to show you how we deal with those who oppose us?”