Music City Macabre: The Low Lying Lands Saga: Vol. 1 (11 page)

I shouldn’t be trusting anybody. I don’t want friends right now. I need to be alone, but I can’t quite make myself do it. I went straight to Normal and aligned with Jay. Maybe I should just be like Jay. I mean, everybody we love is going to die anyway. It’s how this world currently works. I can’t cut people off. God knows I want to. Maybe just the opposite. Maybe I need to get as many people in my corner as possible. If I’m going to take Kade down I simply can’t do it alone. I always thought of myself as a Lone Gunman, but I wasn’t, was I?
Nope.

Sometime during my internal debate, Lexi had crept over to lie next to me. She wasn’t touching me, but she was close. Without thinking I put my hand to her head and patted her. This is all new to me. I still didn’t love the name Lexi, but the dog looked old enough that a new name would confuse her. “I’ll make the effort, Lexi.” Her eyes shifted to me and her look said,
I’m with you now.
I started to cry. I’m pretty sure I know exactly why. The crying turned to a straight up heaving, balling, snot fest of sobbing. This was forty-eight hours in the making. At that point, Lexi did get up and come closer. She licked my face and told me it was going to be OK. We both fell asleep shortly thereafter.

I woke up the next morning sore as hell from the hard floor, but feeling pretty good. Hungry again. I noticed Lexi sitting by the wedged door and, with a low growl, she made it known she wanted out. This was going to take a while to get used to. I grabbed my Glock from the floor and we made our way into the lobby. Nothing jumped out as being any different from the evening before, but you can’t rest on your laurels. I instructed Lexi as best I could to stay with me as we checked the remaining offices and bathrooms. The place was clean.

Lexi and I bonded over a piss together, then we retrieved our morning meal of Ramen noodles and a couple of bananas. I boiled water, more a precaution than anything, and gave some to Lexi before bottling the rest up for the trip to Nashville. My phone signal was a no go, so the atlas told me it was about a hundred and thirty miles.

I didn’t know what to expect from a potentially indeterminate car ride with a new canine travel partner, but this was how it was going to be from now on, so I guessed I had better figure it out.

It took no time at all to hook up with interstate 24, and we were on our way. I was shocked by the easy passage on the interstate once we crossed over the state line. We were making great time. I had the window down on the passenger side and most of time the dog had her head out the window. As we came into Clarksville the CB, which is always receiving, I suppose, came to life with some bizarre chatter:

“
You…living soldiers...where do...go?”

“Where...you?”

“...Skeleton...window...two...cabins here.”

“Go up fifty yards to the parking lot, hang a left, chief.”

“Who’s on this channel?

I grabbed the handheld and jammed the button “Hello! Hello! My name is Prescott, over! Who is this? Hello! Again my name is Prescott. I’m 60 miles or so from Nashville, over. I’m looking for friendlies.”

Dead air.

I hadn’t intended to sound as desperate as I did, I was just caught off guard. That was so weird. Who were those people? Where were they? In Nashville?

“
Prescott. Repeat, Prescott. This is Michael Cole, formerly of the United States Army, and I represent the Murfreesboro Safe Zone. The Network says your name is good, so please be advised. The Nashville Safe Zone has been destroyed. One hundred percent casualties. In this part of the country, if you’re Freak, you are dead. Over.”

I felt a rush of adrenaline surge through my body. I replied, “I read you loud and clear Mr. Cole. Uh...please...uh, advise me where I should proceed to get...uh...hooked up with you guys. Over.” Not the most beautiful words ever spoken but it got the job done.

“
Do you have a map?”

“Yes I do.”

“Ok, well. Forget it. I need to get you here quick as possible, so listen closely”.
He gave me very detailed directions and told me he and an associate would be waiting in a camouflaged Dodge Ram in front of the Italian restaurant called Carrabba’s. “
The interstates and roads are fairly clear. So we’ll give you three hours and hope you’re here. The Network says you’re good. Not sure why you’re here, but we can talk about that later.”

We signed off. I turned to Lexi, who was looking at me intensely. “I love it when a plan comes together,” I said to her as I rubbed her behind the ears. Like he said, the roads ahead looked good and there was promise in the air. Making friends already.

WELCOME TO NASHVILLE

Cole sent me from Interstate 24, which I was already on, and told me to hook up with 44 and then to get off at 21st Avenue. There I took a left and followed it for a short distance until I saw the Carrabba’s and the camo Dodge Ram. I’m going to mention one last time how amazed I was about the debris-less streets. Driving in the state of Tennessee today has been some of the easiest, trouble free driving I’ve done in years.

I pulled into the parking lot and stopped about twenty yards from the Ram. “What do ya think Lexi? It didn’t even occur to me until right now this might be a trap. I’m really fucking up aren’t I? Well, let’s do this. Watch my back?”

I got out of the Comanche and whistled for Lexi to follow. I drew both holstered Glocks in a ready-to-fire grip, but held them outstretched in a friendly gesture. I waited for them to make their opening salvo. This was going to be like dancing. A couple of minutes later both doors of the Dodge opened simultaneously and they got out.

Cole, I assume, looked about 30 and had a rifle slung over his back, courtesy of a leather strap. He also had a handgun he was holding in plain sight for me to see. He was a muscular dude who probably prided himself on a single digit body fat number and kept his head shaved constantly just for effect. He wore camouflage pants, black combat boots, and a solid black t-shirt. He sorta reminded me of the Punisher. Well, even Frank Castle had a few friends.

The woman, a blonde, looked a tad older but equally as tough. She had a fucking sword in a sheath poking out over her right shoulder and two holstered guns on her hips, old west style. If the situation wasn’t what it was, it might have been love at first sight, but she looked at me like all she needed was a reason to blow my ass away. She walked in stride with Cole and held her palms at her hips as she walked.

We came to a stop about ten feet apart The strangers both seemed to be sizing up Lexi and not worrying about me.

“What’s with the dog, Prescott? The Network didn’t say anything about a dog,” said Cole

“Well hello to you, too. First of all the dog is Lexi. She was bequeathed to me by a dead guy named Cory Stalker in in a bathroom in Paducah. We’re still getting to know each other but I feel like we’ve come a long way in twenty-four hours. Right Lexi? Secondly, what the hell is The Network?”

“The fact that you don’t know makes us nervous, to be honest,” said Cole.

“Super. We can play this game all day, or you guys can piss off.”

“Calm down, Prescott. You’ll be told everything in short order. First things first. Nobody comes back to or into the Murfreesboro Safe Zone without taking a Freak Test. No exceptions.”

He drew a rather impressive blade from a sheath at the small of his back. He flipped it around and handed me the knife by the blade.

“Squeeze one of your hands into a fist a couple of times, then open your hand and cut your palm.”

“What?” I say, but almost as quickly see the logic. Once I cut my hand and it starts to bleed, it wouldn’t be long before a break occurred if I was a Freak.

“Just do it, Prescott, and we can be on our way,” Cole said annoyed.

“OK, OK.” I quickly ran the blade across my hand and winced at the pain. Lexi took notice and whined her disapproval. “I’m fine, girl.” To Cole and his partner: “We good now?”

“Yes. I’m sure you understand the gravity of the...situation,” said the woman. “Let’s go. We have a mid range location up the road where we can talk before we head back to Murfreesboro.”

“Listen, I didn’t come here to go to Murfreesboro. Doctor Midnite said there was a guy named Kade here in Nashville that needed to die. I hope to help him do that very soon.”

“Shit.” Cole shook his head. “You heard that broadcast in Chicago?”

“Normal. I was with…”

“Jay Rives. We know. The Network says Jay is an up and comer. You’d do all right to turn around with your dog here and go back. You’re only going to get yourself killed here, pulling this John Wayne shit.”

“Well, let me worry about that,” I said.

“We can’t afford to,” said the woman.

“Who the hell are you, mystery lady?”

“My name is Shields. Laura Shields. I know, right? Just call me Shields. Follow us Mr. Prescott. We have a lot to talk about.”

I followed in the Comanche as we turned left out of the mall onto Hillsboro Road. About fifteen minutes later, we pulled up in front a giant Greek replica called the Parthenon. I walked with them down a set of stairs to the interior of the structure. There was an old gift shop that had been transformed into a sort of receiving area, a la Normal, but on a smaller scale. I went into a room, answered a few routine questions, then stepped out into the company of a very large man. He extended his hand. “Wycheck. Glad to meet you, Prescott. The Network says you’re a stud. The Network never lies.”

“Wycheck? Really? I remember the Music City M…”

“None of that shit matters anymore, man. Follow me. Cole and Shields are waiting for you.”

“Cole and Shields huh? Sounds like a law firm for assholes”

“Uh-huh...around the corner, first door on the right. I’ll be outside in case you end up being the asshole.”

“Fair enough, Mr. Wycheck. It wasn’t a forward pass. We both know it.”

I opened the door and stepped into the room and Cole and Shields both stood.
There’s some respect. Remind me to thank The Network.
The room was like a mini command post, I suppose. Similar to Ops but about seventy-five percent smaller. They looked to be doing more data mining than anything else. There were a few cameras, but this place was susceptible to a hit.

“Welcome to Outpost Delta, Prescott. The Nashville Safe Zone, as well as Outposts Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie are lost. The Freaks know this place is here and its days are numbered. When we heard you come over our waves we were, quite frankly, shocked. And, who the hell were you talking to anyway?

“What do you mean? You didn’t hear it? The chatter?

“What are you talking about?” asked Cole

“It was bits and pieces. Something about soldiers… and cabins. Or something. It was very fragmented.”

Shields spoke first. “I have no idea what you’re going on about Prescott, but you’re here now. So let’s cut to the chase. The Network thinks you’re making a huge mistake. You’re good, but you’re out of your league when it comes to Kade. He’s a wrecking ball of mass destruction and chaos.”

Chaos.

“Nashville is lost. As soon as this outpost falls, which is any day now, we are falling back all the way to Murfreesboro,” said Cole. “Get out your big black sharpie and add another fat “X” over another lost territory.”

“Ok, you know what? Let’s start over. My name is Prescott. Nice to meet you Cole and Shields. You have been
extremely
welcoming so far, but I don’t really know anything about you. It seems to me that we’re going to be working together because I’m going to kill Kade, and I’d like to know who I’m going into battle with. So why don’t we find some food and have a get-to-know-you meeting?”

There was a small area designated the dining hall, but that was more of an inside joke to the very small squad of men and women that operated Outpost Delta. Cole, Shields, and I went into the room and were served water and a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. This was literally one very small step up from ravioli.

We sat down and I opened up the discussion. “Michael, what…”

“Cole. Just call me Cole from here on out.”

“OK, Cole. What’s your story?” As a Marine I was curious what his specialty was, since he mentioned the Army.

“You paint with a broad stroke, Prescott. And what’s up with your dress code, man? A tie? You look like you just walked off the runway, you douchebag. You know it’s the end of the world, right? The Freaks don’t care about your Doc Martins.”

“So. What’s your story morning glory? You mentioned the Army. So, what? Ranger? Or cook?

Cole sat back and seemed to be deciding how to approach this conversation before finally opening up.

“Yeah, I was a Ranger. But none of that shit matters anymore, Prescott.”

“Of course it does. It’s up to the likes of me and you and Shields, here, to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves.”

“Well I’m just about through with taking risks and having to watch my back because people like you want to come here and put us all in danger,” he snapped.