Read What Comes After (Book 1): A Shepherd Cometh Online
Authors: Peter Carrier
Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse
“Still need a decoy.”
The Shepherd saw the man with the ball cap nod and raise the crowbar. He watched in disbelief as Dust used the tool to strike down Knife-man, who had the misfortune of being half a foot closer to Dust. Knife-man screamed when the metal tip tore through muscle and bone. Crashing to one knee, he tried to raise his hands to the wound. Dust planted a foot in the back of his victim and wrenched the crowbar free, snapping bone in the process. Knife-man's scream became a shriek. Stunned, the Shepherd watched helplessly as Dust delivered two quick strikes to Knife-man's spine. Knife-man finally collapsed and when he did, Dust dropped a devastating swing to the left knee of the beaten man.
The Shepherd had not anticipated Summers being so determined to follow this course, nor had he been prepared for the men with Summers to so willingly follow those instructions.
Must be some kind of contingency plan
, he reasoned. Even as the Shepherd stepped toward the man in the ball cap, uncertain what he could do with his hands bound, he saw Summers raising a weapon. He would recognize the curves and contours of that stainless steel revolver in the dark: the bastard had his own gun pointed at him.
“Down the road. Now.” Summers waited for the Shepherd to move.
It took only a moment. The Shepherd was filled with rage at how this man and his group treated the captives, but there was no undoing what had already been done. Weaponless and with hands bound, he was in no position to make a difference. Escape was unlikely, given the number of Turned coming up the street and out of the nearby houses. Even if he gave his life, the captives would not be freed and if they were, where could they go? Remaining served no purpose, so he must move on.
He ran, following the other captives. In turn, he was followed by Summers and Rujuan's group. He looked over his shoulder long enough to see half a dozen or more of the monsters begin ripping into Knife-man, mercifully silencing his screams. He also noticed Summers watching him with a calculating look.
The river is just ahead
, the Shepherd realized during their run. Now that he remembered, he was surprised he hadn't heard it earlier, even if its roar was competing with the blood thumping in his ears. The Shepherd saw Jay's group surge ahead toward a wall of vegetation. Thick, tall trees the color of golden fire connected by dense, deep green hedge spread a hundred feet or more in either direction. Slipping between the trees and hedge as quickly as they could, they found themselves atop the bank of Salmon Falls. Just down the bank, near the water's edge, were six canoes. In addition to Jay and his group, there were two other men working to put the canoes in the water.
Hastily descending the riverbank, the Shepherd made to catch the woman and child. He had only moved a few steps in their direction when he heard a quick step from behind him and felt a heavy, dull smack against the back of his head. He lurched another step forward before bringing himself to a halt. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a man with a shotgun pointed at him.
Summers, standing beside the man with the shotgun, shook his head. “Uh-uh. You're with me.” Using the Shepherd's revolver, Summers pointed to the canoe at the far end.
The group, swollen to nearly two-dozen men and woman now, piled into the canoes and began making their way into the water. It took nearly ten minutes to cross and though they had angled their approach, the current still managed to carry them down river considerably. The captives seemed a different breed, once on the other side. Their heads were bowed, faces pale and they dragged their feet. Taking a key from his pocket, Summers moved among them and freed their hands. When he reached the child, he stopped.
Looking to the Shepherd, Summers asked, “Will you behave?”
No doubt thinking the middle-aged man was talking to him, the boy nodded. It was only after the Shepherd nodded that Summers unlocked the boys cuffs, however. Returning the key to his pocket, Summers looked at the woman and waited for her to collect her son.
The mother, Hammer-Man and the Sentry made way to one of the canoes and began carrying it along the rocky river bank. The speed with which they acted spoke to how quickly they had embraced their roles as captives. It seemed to the Shepherd as though they were resuming a familiar station, and that disgusted him every bit as much as his own feeling of uselessness. Frustration mounting, he could only watch as their spirits continued to falter.
A quarter mile upriver, the large group stopped near a shack at the end of what had once been a boat ramp. Several wooden posts stood half a dozen yards from the water, each with a length of rope tied around the middle. Dust called to those carrying the canoes, breaking the silence that had fallen since crossing the river. “Tie 'em off.”
The task took less than a minute and no sooner was it done then the boy wrapped himself around his mother. He spoke, muffled and quiet, into her well worn sweater. His chest began heaving and the woman smoothed his hair, patted his back. He spoke again, louder and the woman's breathing began to hitch, as well. Noting this, Summers tilted his head. He watched the mother and son a moment, then strode to where they stood. The woman watched him approach and shook her head. The closer he got, the more vigorous her shaking until the tears streaming from her eyes fairly flew from her face.
Summers stopped a couple feet from them. He looked at the woman for a long moment, face hard and unreadable as she stilled. Then he crouched by her feet, so he was of closer height to her son. He put his left hand on the boy's shoulder and shook him, gently. “What did you say, buddy?”
Turning from his mother, the boy revealed his red, wet face long enough to loudly cry, “I don't wanna go back!” He then returned his face to the comfort of his mother's drab gray sweater and resumed convulsing.
Summers patted the boy on the shoulder a couple times. “Well, that's too bad. Sun's setting and we don't want to be out here after dark. After all,” he added while standing and looking at the mother, “that's where you guys belong. And I'm sure your momma will see you're takin' care of.” This last he offered with an insincere smile.
The woman's eyes widened and she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth, but the mewling sound of fear escaped before she could stop it. The Shepherd heard that sound and found himself several steps closer to Summers before seeing the other man point the revolver at the back of the child's head. Summers watched the Shepherd with an expression that seemed to say,
please. Give me a reason.
The Shepherd stopped to consider this and fell to his knees. By the time he realized his legs had been kicked out from under him, he felt a strong arm wrap tightly around his neck. Heavy pressure was applied by a long, measured squeeze and the Shepherd groped with bound hands for something, anything, to grab hold of. A gurgle passed his lips when he heard Summers' voice, as though from far away. “Rujuan, stop. We need him ambulatory. Besides, we're almost there and the Old Man will want to talk to him.”
The group resumed the formation they had used when the left the house; captives in front, captors behind. They traveled east along the broken road leading up from the boat ramp and away from the river. To the Shepherd, there seemed something different about this part of the town. With daylight disappearing by the minute, it was hard for him to note the difference at first. Then he noticed the lack of debris. Comparatively few leaves danced on the wind and there were virtually no fallen branches. While there were several vehicles visible, most of them were on the sidewalk or on the lawns of nearby houses. All of them were devoid of tires and those with visible panels had an 'x' on at least one door. While he saw no rubbish, that didn't lend a sense of cleanliness to the area. Instead, it had more a feeling of being picked over.
Their silent march had taken them a mile from the river when they arrived at a tall, chain link fence surrounding a large, brick building. Summers tucked the revolver into the waist of his faded, patched jeans and moved directly to the gate. The Shepherd could just make out the chain wrapped around the gate doors, keeping them closed. While Summers fished around in his pocket, the Shepherd studied the structure before them. The building was huge; two stories tall and shaped like a pair of capital 'E's' stuck together at their backs. The one he attended was shaped differently and was no doubt very far from here, but he was certain this structure had been a school. Before the End, that is. He wondered how recent an addition was the tower in the middle of the roof.
The clinking of the chains brought the Shepherd back from his speculation. Quick, practiced motions from Summers unwound the chain and opened the gate. It was hardly open when Jay and his team went through, Summers ushering in the captives. Had his hands been free, the Shepherd might have made an effort to retrieve his gun. Perhaps thinking the same thing, Summers moved to the other side of the gate, placing the chain-link door between himself and the Shepherd. When everyone else was through, Summers came in and swung the door closed behind him. He quickly and quietly wrapped the chain around the gate before sliding the lock back in place.
The group crossed the wide open lot quickly, since it was dark and the wind was cold. The ladder extending down from the roof seemed to be their goal. By the time the rest had reached its base, they could just see the last of Jay's team pull himself onto the roof. Up the rest of them went, one at a time. Once they were all on the roof, the ladder was pulled up and laid behind a short wall that surrounded the edge of the roof.
The Shepherd watched the mother and son as they slowly moved across the rooftop. Her body was racked by quiet sobs as she attempted to comfort her child. He had his arm about her waist, equal parts companionship and support for his fatigue. Hammer-Man and Sentry moved in their wake, and it was plain to see they were weary in body and soul. These four radiated fear, resignation, regret and anxiety. Their captors, it seemed to the Shepherd, were on the other end of the emotional spectrum. Exuding a giddy joy, they seemed every part the victors, returning home with the spoils of conquest.
They one and all made their way to the middle of the central section of the roof, stopping just shy of the tower. It was difficult to tell in the dark of night, but the wood of the tower seemed stained, rounded and worn. It had seen two or three winters, likely more. While he studied the support beam closest to where the group had stopped, the Shepherd noted additional men at the tower base. They appeared stationed around a trap door that led down into the building. Summers stood close to one of the men near the trap door. Listening closely, the Shepherd could only just make out what they were saying.
The guard, his voice pitched low. “Where's the new guy going?”
Summers glanced over his shoulder at the Shepherd and replied. “Interrogation room. He's a fighter and none to happy with me. He might cause a problem, so he'll go down last. We'll need to have a couple of guys down there, first. And a couple up here. Just in case.”
The guard nodded. “And the rest? What about them?”
Summers chuckled. “Back to holding. Where else?”
“Your guys taking care of that?”
Summers nodded. “I'll get the Old Man once the new guy is set in the room.”
“Alright.” With that, the guard crouched and pulled open the trapdoor.
Summers looked at Red and the man slung his rifle, then descended into a dimly lit hall. The other two in his team followed suit, positioning themselves behind the ladder. Dust and his team went next. With six armed men at the base of the ladder, Summers deemed it safe for his captives to move. He indicated they should make their way down, starting with the woman. She shook her head, but quickly recanted the action under the baleful stare Summers fixed on her. Like a beaten dog, she slunk along the roof to the trapdoor, then down the ladder. Her son followed quickly behind. The Shepherd barely noticed Hammer-Man and Sentry make their way into the building. He was too busy determining the marching order of his personal escort.
He'll send Rujuan first,
the Shepherd thought.
He'll want his biggest man already down there.
He nodded to himself when next Summers spoke. “You next, Rujuan.”
The Shepherd felt the large man shoulder past him and get swallowed up by the trapdoor moments later. As the rest of the team followed their leader down the ladder, Summers spoke to Jay, pressing something into the other man's hand. Gaze fixed squarely upon the Shepherd, he said, “Send him down as soon as I hit the floor. If he resists or moves before you call, kill him.”
Jay nodded and stepped away from the trapdoor. Summers nodded to the guards at the base of the tower and made the climb into the hallway beneath them. When Summers was gone from sight, Jay pointed to the Shepherd and waved him over. Taking slow, steady steps, he crossed the short space to stand before his captor. When he was within arms reach, Jay motioned for him to stop.
“Turn around.”
The Shepherd did so. After a moment, he felt Jay's hands working on the cuffs around his wrists. He heard what sounded like a foot fall, then another command. “Face me.” The voice sounded a bit further away this time.
The Shepherd did as he was told. He saw the other man had moved back a step and was pointing to the trapdoor. “Move.”
As instructed, he made his way to the trapdoor and checked below. Weak yellow light filled the hall, as though illuminated by lamps at its far ends. Rujuan, Summers and the others looked up at him, ready to act when he did. He took the ladder rails in hands, felt the cool metal on his palms. Taking a breath, he climbed down. For a fleeting moment, he was grateful to be out of the night air and the chill wind. That gratuity faded as quickly as it had come when he reached the base of the ladder. He had one foot on the floor when he was pulled from the ladder and thrown into a wall. Being robbed of his wind did nothing to diminish the stare he offered Rujuan, who now held the shotgun on him.
Jay and his men began to join the rest of them in the hall. The last of that team pulled the trapdoor closed before making the descent. While waiting for those men to climb down, the Shepherd noticed the hall was much longer than he had anticipated. It was lit by oil lamp, however; one against the wall near the ladder and another in Summers' hand. Even though he strained to hear something over the sound of Jay's men climbing down, the Shepherd could discern no sight or sound from the group that had preceded him into the hall. The other captives were already far from here and on the path to whatever fate awaited them.