The Brotherhood of the Wheel (46 page)

“Yeah,” former police officer E. G. Wells shouted out. He fled his home and his job after allegations of corruption had ensured that he would see the inside of a prison; he'd ended up serving time in Four Houses instead. “That wrinkled old bitch has firepower up there! You want us to sweep and clear this town, fine, but no way in hell am I—”

“Wald shot him square in the face with a .44 snub-nosed revolver. Wells's wide face popped as the round entered between his eyes and exited, taking part of the skull with it. The dirty cop fell to the asphalt. No one moved to see if he was still breathing. The crowd just shuffled away from the corpse. Not their problem.

“Anyone else here care to blaspheme the word of the Master of the Hunt?” Wald shouted. “The old god's prophet? Anyone? You have guns, you could try to kill me. Well?” The crowd was silent. Wald nodded and put the ugly, squat little pistol back in the pocket of his windbreaker. “Good. Now go do his work, his will. Wipe Four Houses clean of the unfaithful, the unworthy, the weak. Go!”

They swarmed out of the lot just as the sun opened an accusatory fiery eye in the east, past the tree line.

The first few homes were easy pickings, didn't even need to fire a shot to take them. Like jackals, the mob decided to stick together to ensure their own safety. They smashed open a trailer door and dragged a family—mom, dad, and three children—out into the cold. They beat most of them to death. They took time to rape the mother and the oldest daughter, but Wald fired a round into the air and scattered the violators, like roaches when the lights come on. He executed the two sobbing women, each with a bullet to the head. “We ain't got no time for dallying around!” he shouted. “Just kill 'em, don't fuck 'em.”

The mob complied, and several other families died. Short-lived screams smeared themselves across Four Houses along with the occasional shout or crack of gunfire. The mob grew more confident as they encountered little real resistance. Several times Wald thought he saw something—a movement in the morning mists, darting between the houses, the weed-filled lots, and the trailers. Each time it was gone before he could fully comprehend it. It troubled him, but there was work to be about.

By late morning, they had “cleared” about a half-dozen homes and murdered more than twenty-five people. The mob had begun to split into smaller clusters as the men grew arrogant and the lust for blood came on them. Then something changed. They started kicking in doors only to find the houses empty. It happened again and again. Then one of the clusters of the mob disappeared without a trace, without a sound. More houses came up empty as they moved forward toward the main road and began to get closer to the center of town, near the Crone's mansion. Wald examined one abandoned trailer and found that blankets and preserved food had been hastily gathered. He began to get an uneasy feeling, but so far they had encountered no serious setbacks, other than the missing men, and they were most likely off somewhere doing things he had ordered them not to and getting drunk.

They moved past the Crone's place for the moment, focusing on the houses and trailers clustered between the far end of the junkyard and the burned-down old house across from the Stag's Rest Motel. Wald wanted to give his crew as many victories and as much opportunity as possible to get cocky before they took the Crone. There had been cars up at the old lady's house last night, but they were gone now.

A few more vacant homes past the middle of town, the crew sent to clear the Stag's Rest disappeared. When Wald and his men reached the motel, it was empty, with no sign of the family that ran it, the people who lived in the bungalows, or Wald's AWOL assassins, nothing. Wald began to grow very angry. He wished he hadn't exiled Toby to watch the two college brats. He needed his brother right now to suffer a good beating to help Wald focus. Where the hell was the majority of the town? Where the hell were his men?

It was past noon when Wald got his answer. Wald's army moved up the two-lane toward Buddy's Roadhouse and the houses and trailers clustered around and past it. As they approached Buddy's, they saw that the whole road was blocked by a group of cars, vans, and trucks. At the center of the barricade was the huge Winnebago belonging to the Kesners—the couple who had taken over Buddy's ages ago. There were men and boys mounting the barricade. Most of them had nothing more than knives or bats or, in a few cases, sticks. There were guns, but only a few. The watchmen were mounted in the bed of pickups and out the high side windows of the RV. Some were on the roofs of panel trucks. The barricade included earthen mounds and trenches dug on either side of the two-lane, apparently by a rusty old backhoe that Wald could glimpse behind the barriers. Hanging by clothesline from the barricade were the eight dead bodies of Wald's missing men. Each looked to have been shot.

“What is this shit?” Wald barked, as he walked to within a few yards of the barricade.

Near the front of the Winnebago, a window slid open and Carl Kesner stuck his head out. He waved to the assembled mob of killers and then produced a megaphone to speak to them. “Howdy!” Carl said, speaking cheerfully through the megaphone. “Hi, Wald! I'm sorry to inform you fellas that Buddy's has become a private drinking establishment and you must be a member to come in.”

“Is that so?” Wald said, waving the pistol at Carl.

Carl kept smiling, and nodded.

From the window slightly behind him, Barb leaned out, also smiling. “Yes,” she said. “It is, and I'm afraid we have a rather firm ‘no A-holes' policy in place. So I'm afraid you and your goons are going to have to mosey on along.”

“What are you and your wife going to do about it, bartender?” Wald said, leveling the gun at Barb now.

Carl kept the smile, but a dark fire was burning behind his kind eyes. “I'd have to use my magic megaphone ray gun,” he said, his voice booming through the amplifier. He moved the bullhorn away from his lips. Wald's men were chuckling. Carl aimed the megaphone at one of the killers with a hunting rifle. “Pew, pew!” Carl said, and the gunman lurched and fell to the ground. Before any of the stunned killers could react, Carl aimed the megaphone at another of Wald's crew who was holding a double-barreled shotgun. “Pew, pew!” Carl said. The man's chest blew open and he fell dead. Carl spun the megaphone in Wald's direction, the smile slipping off his face. “Point a gun at my wife, you evil bastard. Pew, pew, motherfucker.”

“Snipers!” Wald shouted, and ran for cover. His men followed his lead, and a few of them fell to gunfire as they retreated. A round kicked up dirt near Wald's foot as he ran. “Goddamned snipers.” The assassins were pinned down on the sides of the two-lane. Several of Wald's people lay dead on the road from sniper fire, primarily the ones with guns. A cheer went up from the barricade as the killers retreated.

Up on the roof of Buddy's, Lovina scanned the road for any more targets through the scope on her AR-15 and saw only the bodies of the ones she and Agnes had already dropped. Lovina picked up the police walkie and clicked the talk button. “Agnes, looks like they're buttoned down.”

There was a hiss over the radio, then Agnes replied on her own walkie that Lovina had provided. “Only for the moment, dear. I know Wald Scode, and he'll not back off this easy.”

“We should have popped him first,” Lovina said. “The rest would have scattered.”

“They are driven by the fear of who they serve,” Agnes replied, “and it isn't Wald. If we keep him alive, he can order them to retreat.”

Lovina nodded. This old lady had her shit together, there was no doubt about that. Any senior citizen who had her own sniper rifle was all right in her book. Agnes was positioned up in the high grass of the hill that was part of the yard of the crumbling mansion—the house Ava had told them she and Agnes visited yesterday and nearly died escaping. As hurt and worn out as Agnes was, she managed to find a way to get in position unseen and take out half of the dead assassins on the road. Badass.

“Wald's rallying his people,” Agnes said over the radio. “He's going to make an attempt to flank the barrier. See? He's got that party of men falling back to slip behind the Bohans' house.”

“Barb? You copy that?” Lovina said.

Again, a hiss of static, and then Barb's voice. “We do,” she said. “We'll try to get some of our guys over there to meet them, but Lovina, we don't have a lot of fighters over here. The only reason they didn't run when Wald's guys showed up is because of you and Agnes.”

Lovina sighed. It was true—these were normal folks. Good people, to be sure, but frightened and not a lot of combat experience. “Just do the best you can, Barb. I'll try to cover your people as much as I can.”

An hour passed. Lovina remembered this part really well. She had spent enough time in enough hot LZs in Afghanistan and New Orleans to know how to wait. Wald sent some of his men back down the road, running low and dispersing from her scope as they headed toward the burned house with the chain-link fence around it, a few miles down the two-lane. Lovina had an odd feeling of déjà vu as she looked through the scope in the direction of the old house. Agnes had said something last night about a house waiting for her. At the time, she had chalked it up to a woman who had been trapped in this little town for far too long. But now, thinking of that once fine old mansion, she felt some kind of vague association with it.

It was early afternoon now and starting to get warm. The group Wald had sent to flank had reached the point where they would need to break cover to come in around the barrier. They seemed to be waiting. Lovina suddenly noticed that more of Wald's crew had fallen back out of sight. Only a handful remained in cover on the ditches on the side of the road. Where the fuck was Wald? Lovina heard the chatter between Barb and Agnes over the radio.

“We've got a lot of folks here who need potty breaks,” Barb said. “I'm going to start switching people off the line. Ava is taking the radio from me.”

“Yes, dear,” Agnes replied.

In the RV, Ava took the radio and peered out the small window. She was wearing a large leather gun belt with the huge old Webley revolver that belonged to Dennis in a holster. She watched the street and saw only a few sour faces peeking out of the ditches at her. One of the faces was Ricky, the nasty old creep who had accosted her on her first visit to Buddy's. Ava considered taking a shot at him but realized the futility of it. Barb and Carl were moving some sentries off the bus, and new volunteers were replacing those at the windows and on the roof, trading their few guns to the new watchmen. Ava frowned. Something was wrong.

About that time, Lovina's voice came over the radio. “Guys, something is up,” she said. “Most of Wald's people have fallen back out of sight to the other side of the town. The ones here look like they're waiting for something. I don't like it.”

The other side of town
 …

“Shit!” Ava shouted. “Hey okay! Everybody out of the RV, come on! Out, out, everyone!” Ava began ushering the whole watch crew out of Carl and Barb's Winnebago. Once out of the RV, she called out to the other spotters on the trucks and vans. “You guys get down, everyone in Buddy's now! Come on!”

“Ava, what the hell are you doing?” Carl asked.

“We've got to get everyone inside Buddy's right now with the children and the others, come on! We're about to get overrun!”

“What are you talking about?” Barb said.

“What's happening down there?” Lovina asked over the radio. “Why is everyone coming off the barricade?”

“Agnes?” Ava called into the radio. “Agnes, I'm coming to get you! We have to get inside!”

Barb grabbed Ava by the shoulders. “Ava, please, what is it?”

Ava held the mike button open on the radio so Lovina and Agnes could hear, too. “They fell back to the other side of town … the other side of the two-lane! What happens when you go far enough down the two-lane on either side?” She pointed east down the two-lane, behind them. “You end up on the other side of town!”

There was the sound of engines, many engines, down the road, behind the barricade, coming closer.

“Aw, shit!” Carl said. “Okay, everybody inside the roadhouse, now! Go, go, go!”

Ava handed the radio back to Barb and began to sprint across the road and up the hill toward the old mansion. “Agnes! Agnes!” she shouted as she struggled up the hill.

“Over here, dear!” A hand came up out of the tall grass. “I seem to be having a spot of trouble standing up.” A bullet whined near them both and knocked up a clump of dirt. One of Wald's men in the ditches had taken a shot when he saw Ava running up the hill. Ava drew the heavy old revolver and returned fire as she reached Agnes's sniper nest. The kick of the gun nearly dropped her on her ass, but Ava managed to stay upright. She doubted that she'd hit the guy, but all of Wald's men ducked after the shot. She offered a hand to Agnes, and the former OSS agent took it and pulled herself to her feet.

“Very embarrassing,” Agnes said, hefting her rifle, sack, and radio. “Old Wild Bill Donovan would be very disappointed in his girl.”

“Well, I'm not,” Ava said. “Screw Wild Bill, whoever he is. We've got to go, Agnes!”

“Too late, I fear, dear,” Agnes said. “Look.”

Coming into view down the eastern side of the two-lane was a caravan of vehicles, roaring toward Buddy's and the blockade. There was an old eighties Ford pickup with a nasty-looking snowplow attached to the front of it. A half-dozen armed men were crouched in the truck bed of the Ford. Running slightly behind the Ford was a seventies-model Chevy truck with another complement of men in the bed. Bringing up the rear was the Scodes' ancient tow truck, with more men huddled in the back on either side of the tow winch.

“Damn it!” Ava looked around frantically. The ruins of the house behind them called to her again. Agnes looked at her and then nodded. “Tell Barb and Lovina we're going to hole up in here,” Ava said as they headed for the house's entrance. Bullets again began to hiss past their heads.