What Comes After (Book 1): A Shepherd Cometh (26 page)

After a bit of thought, Janessa prompted him to continue. “That only sounded like some of it. What's the rest?”

He told her. “You're not your brothers keeper. You're going to have your own hands full for the time being. While we're together, we'll share the load, but it's on each of us to pull our own weight. I don't know how it was with your previous group, but I get the feeling Toby is used to light work. That won't be the case if you two are traveling with Ben and I.”

“What about earlier today? When you told him my safety depended on him doing what he was told and staying real close to you?” Janessa offered an observation. “He didn't stay that close the whole time, either. You know it, too. I saw the way you looked at him when we stopped at the stream.”

“It was a test.” A pause. “He passed, by the way.”

“A test?” She sounded surprised and angry. “That's... wow. You're something else.”

The Shepherd agreed with her, though he kept it to himself.
Taking two cannibals under my wing with the intent to see them reformed and become contributing members of society? Damn right I'm something else.
He took a breath to push that thought aside and broke the quiet between them with more low-voiced words. “To revisit the beginning of the conversation, the plan is this: find the fire station and hopefully get Ben to safety. After that, we figure out how we're handling winter. In between, we find some people to help and make sure we stay on this side of the dirt in the process. How does that strike you?”

After a long pause, Tom spoke. “I'll take your silence as tacit agreement.”

It was late in the day when they reached the fire station. The sun was beginning its quick sink into the west, covering the red brick of the old building with a faded orange glow. Tall grass surrounded the structure and looked like waves of swaying fire, lapping against the building's base. Intact windows were rectangles of golden light, reflecting the dying rays of the sun. Having made a check of the perimeter, it seemed abandon and lacking in possible threat. It was clear to Tom that someone had been through the area recently, however. Thus, he saw no harm in waiting a while to see if that person or creature returned. So they waited in the drawn shadows of late afternoon, behind a sizable pine tree and shrub of choke cherries.

Long minutes passed before the Shepherd deemed it time to move. He heard Ben shifting restlessly and Toby muttering to his sister. With every sound he heard his companions make, he restarted the sixty count.
They'll figure it out eventually
, he thought.
They need to remember patience plays an important a role in success and survival, just like quick, decisive action
. It took a while, though: the sun had been swallowed by the hills before the three of them were still and silent for a full minute. Finally he turned to the others and spoke in a quiet, authoritative tone.

“We're going in through the personnel door on the north side. I'll be in front, Toby will follow me. Ben is behind him and Janessa is bringing up the rear. We'll be clearing the building before we do anything else inside. Have you two done that before?” This last he asked indicating the brother and sister.

Toby snorted and seemed ready to say something equally derisive before his sister rapped him on the back of the head. To the Shepherd, she said, “Yeah. Pay attention, talk to each other, stop at doorways. Anything you do differently?”

Tom nodded. “Hug the walls, if possible.” He looked at the others, then shook his head. “Plenty more, but we have no practice working together. So this time, we'll pay attention, talk to each other and stop at doorways.”
And hope there's no one waiting for us
, he added to himself. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Janessa said.

“Let's do this,” came from Toby. Ben said nothing, only nodded.

With that, the four of them emerged from their cover and quickly crossed the small swath of grass. Two dozen swift strides carried them to the building proper. Tom paused only long enough to ensure his companions were all with him before sliding to the door and slowly turning the hooked metal handle. It stuck briefly, but was coaxed to move with a bit more pressure. The door cracked with a soft 'pop' and Tom swung it toward the far wall, where it stopped with a creaking bang. The portal opened, he raised his rifle and entered the hallway beyond.

The station was mostly as Tom had expected. Sacked long ago, the small offices had no doubt been re-arranged a number of times since the End. With only one exception, the vehicle bays were empty of trucks, engines or tools. It was clear the bays had been used for living space at some point, as bedding and clothing were littered throughout. While the fabric was old, closer inspection revealed signs of more recent habitation and the smell of people lingered in the concrete and brick chamber.

Behind a box near the door to the offices lay a small trove of goods. A nearly full lantern, a backpack with an empty canteen, and a coil of sturdy nylon rope. There were also a serviceable pair of boots. It was the sort of small, pseudo-stash that made Tom wonder.
Someone not putting all their eggs in one basket, or did some unfortunate soul begin making a cache proper and meet an untimely demise before they could complete it?

While it was obvious the place had been used as a shelter, there was no mistaking that it was presently unoccupied. Equally obvious was the affect this had on Ben. When they entered the station's last room, the boy wasted no time in searching for sign of Caleb. He raced to the fire engine and climbed the runners to search the cab, then dropped to the concrete floor and glanced beneath the truck. Before the others had finished clearing the area, he began to tear through the boxes and piles of fabric around the large room. The boy said nothing and didn't need to. His actions grew more and more frantic until he arrived at a pile of blankets strewn haphazardly behind the remaining fire engine.

Tom watched the boy shred fabric with the same single-minded dedication the Turned displayed in pursuit of their prey. To those beasts, it mattered not if their fingers were scratched and bruised and torn in the process of pulling down their quarry. They seemed unmoved when they split their lips while rapidly shoveling meat into their gullet. Injury in pursuit of their meal seemed something they not only accepted, but perhaps even cherished. A primal understanding that no joy, however trivial, comes without pain. So the Shepherd watched the boy as he drew closer and closer to the bottom of the pile, shredded fabric flung to and fro while Ben searched for emotional sustenance it seemed he would go without.

“I'm here, Caleb. I made it. Where are you?” The warbling tremor in his voice stirred Tom to action, but Janessa was closer. It was she who went to him, who ceased the scrabbling of his hands on the concrete, who went down on her knees beside him and held him close. He did not wail, but he wept and shook in her arms.

“Let's take another look 'round outside,” Tom called softly to Toby, who was already moving to the door.

The young men were no more than ten feet into the hallway that divided up the small offices when the lambasting began. In a mockery of Tom's voice and cadence, Toby said, “'Let's take another look 'round outside.'” He shook his head while they continued walking. “Not the sensitive type.”

Tom held his temper in check. “Didn't see you doing things differently. What should I have done?”

The Shepherd went through the door outside. He glanced about, checking the small open yard and trees beyond. Had he been less frustrated with himself and less intent on Toby's response to his question, he might have seen the shadow slipping from the bushes before he turned back to Janessa's brother. As it was, he only learned there was something amiss when Toby emerged from the hall.

“Little man needed some privacy. Ya did right, but you don't need to make no excuse. Ya just do-” Toby stopped, eyes wide and mouth open. He stood frozen that way for a second before raising his rifle. This action, more than the shock, prompted Tom to turn around. Before he could complete the turn, a voice from the past called out to him, low and deep and familiar.

“Easy, fellas. Mean you no harm.”

A few yards away stood a rugged man in his early fifties. He was dressed in a mix of patched cloth and hand-worked skins and hides, with an oversized pack on his back. The bill on the man's ancient cap cast a shadow on the face beneath it, but could not hide the scars around his right eye. Not from Tom, who spent many a year under that watchful orb. He had learned to shoot with the .30-06 slung over the man's shoulder and had skinned his first rabbit with the knife hanging from the man's belt. Seeing it with his own eyes, Tom could still scarcely believe who he saw.

“Chris?” He said in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

The man continued his approach, arms outstretched and hands open. He smiled, a gentle up sweep of thin, leathery lips. Nodding, he said, “Yes, Tom, it's me.” He stopped just shy of arm's reach of the young men, arms still wide. “Been awhile, hasn't it?”

The three men stood staring at each other; Tom with disbelief, Toby with surprise and Chris with amusement. After several breaths, the older man looked down and spoke in an almost ritual manner. “Forgive me, Shepherd. I have forgotten my place and lost the Way.”

Tom stepped forward and embraced the older man. Pulling back, he kept his hands on Chris's shoulders while he replied. “There is nothing to forgive, teacher-mine.” He smiled. “And if you have lost the Way, there's no hope for the rest of us.”

Toby broke the silence with a dry question. “You know each other?”

Tom laughed and Chris chuckled. Turning to Toby, Tom gestured to Chris and said, “This is Chris Farr. He was one of my instructors and-” he caught himself before continuing. “And an influential member of his community. At least he was when last I saw him.” This last he said while looking back to Chris.
Something's not right
, Tom thought.
What could have made him leave New Mont?

Before Tom could give voice to his concern, Chris spoke. “While it seems ideal, this place isn't safe. Another group is in the area and they're likely to take up inside-”

“What kind of group?” Toby asked, distrust plain in his tone.

The older man frowned. “One that has us out manned and outgunned. So, not the kind we want to tangle with. Not unless we can dictate all the terms of the engagement. Even then, it's still risky.”

Toby seemed doubtful. Looking at Tom, he said, “Shouldn't we be decidin' for ourselves what's 'too risky' for us?”

The Shepherd was frank in his reply. “Chris has been in the business of survival and threat analysis longer than either of us have been alive. If he says it's too much to manage, than it's too much to manage.” Before the other young man could respond, the Shepherd turned to his former instructor.

“You have another place in mind? Somewhere to hole up and wait them out, at least?”

Chris nodded. “There's a rise not far from here, provides vantage on most of the building and surrounding area. I've already set it up. We can be there before night fall, if we push.”

Tom thought a moment. “We've got some gear to collect and a couple folk to bring out. Mind standing watch while we get them? Three minutes, maybe five.”

The older man looked puzzled. “One of them is a kid,” Tom offered by way of explanation.

Chris made a face, then smiled wanly. “Ah,” he said. “I'll keep an eye on things out here, then.”

Tom looked back to Toby. “Shall we?”

Janessa's brother snorted. “Like I got a choice?” Despite his disdain, he fell in behind Tom and entered the fire station nevertheless.

Half a minute of navigating short, darkened halls saw them inside the small office space. Toby muttered and grumbled every step of the way. Tom didn't catch most of it, but completely understood the other young man when he said, “This is bullshit.”

Putting his hand on the knob of the door that led to the vehicle bay, Tom stopped and turned around. Even in the deeply shadowed hallway, the look of challenge on Toby's face was unmistakable. The Shepherd said, “You're right: this is bullshit.”

Toby looked surprised as he continued. “It's bullshit you haven't thanked your sister for being allowed to accompany us and it's bullshit that despite others acting in the best interests of your continued survival, you insist on posturing and being contrary. I don't envy you your position, but if I were you, I'd accept my place in this. You weren't top dog where you came from, and you're not top dog here.”

Silence was thick between them as they both considered the truth of the words. Toby seemed torn between saying nothing and knowing that anything he wanted to say would only further aggravate the situation. The Shepherd finished what needed to be said. “Ben's safety is paramount to me, so that means we're going with Chris. When the boy is no longer in danger from this threat, if you want to go your own way, I won't stop you. Until then, we're together.”

His tone brooked no dispute and Toby understood it. Instead, he nodded and said, “Alright. But maybe I bounce after that.”

“Fine.” Tom opened the door.

He and Toby entered the large room and found Janessa and Ben largely unmoved. Janessa looked at the door when she heard it open, watched the young men return. She saw the expressions on their faces and knew something was going on. “What's wrong?”

As one, Tom and Toby crossed to where they had left their packs. Gathering up the bags, Tom told her. “Friend of mine found us, told me this place isn't safe.” Grabbing his pack, Tom watched Janessa's face fill with the same confusion her brother was no doubt feeling.

“So, we're leaving?” Shock in her voice. “We just got here. What about-”

Tom shook his head. “I'm sorry, Janessa.” And he was. “We can't stay. We can watch this place from where we're going, so we'll see if anyone approaches it.”

She seemed unconvinced, and not just by Tom's words: the child in her arms was still pressed tightly to her and visibly shaking. Janessa looked down at the top of Ben's head, then back at the Shepherd. “What about him?” Her voice was quiet but insistent.