Chapter 20

Joe looked through the binoculars at the town below him. Men were loading trucks from a warehouse at the edge of town. A large group of heavily armed men surrounded the warehouse. He turned to Jake, “What do you make of the stuff they’re putting in those trucks?”

“That’s a computer plant down there, so that must be what they’re loading. I wonder why they want so many? All that firepower for protection tells us they must be valuable to someone,” Jake answered.

“Well, we can’t go anywhere until they leave. Why don’t you try and get to the rear of the warehouse and see if you can hear where they’re headed?” Joe told Jake.

“Right, where will you be?” Jake asked.

“Remember that little house up the draw about a mile back? We’ll be there waiting on you. Be careful, Jake,” Joe said.

After Joe left, Jake moved back from the hill overlooking the town. He circled the base of the hill until he came to a ravine. Dodging from one clump of trees to another, he came to a bridge. Climbing the bank under the bridge, he settled beside one of the pillars that held the bridge up. He heard the diesel engines from the trucks, and could hear men talking, but couldn’t understand what they were saying.

He ducked behind the pillar as a man walked to the edge of the ravine fifty feet from him and watched as the soldier relieved himself over the bank. After the guy left, Jake crawled to the bridge and wedged himself between an abutment and the railing.

Across the bridge, Jake saw several men spread out along the base of the hill he had left. Their attention was focused outward, so he wasn’t afraid they would see him. Still, he kept a wide steel beam between him and them.

Through the latticework of the railing, Jake watched the men at the warehouse, which was less than a hundred feet away. They were a scruffy-looking bunch. Each of them carried a rifle or pistol and they looked like they knew how to use them.

The last truck moved to the loading dock and boxes were loaded into the back of it. A huge man sat in a new Ford Explorer talking on a radio. Jake thought the man was deformed; he had a bald head and large bumps all over his face.

Jake thought Joe’s arms were big, but they were matchsticks compared to those of this man. He didn’t seem to like what he was hearing over the radio. Shouting a curse, he threw the receiver on the seat and stormed over to the warehouse. He yelled something to the men who were loading the truck, and their movements became faster.

Wonder what that’s all about?

Jake heard voices approaching on the other side of the abut-ment he hid behind. Scrunching down even lower, he tried to make himself as small as possible.

He heard a male voice say, “Why is Andy so upset by an old man and a bunch of dogs?”

“You weren’t here when this old coot and his dogs took out Greg and his men. We listened to it over the radio and I tell you, the hair stood up on the back of my head,” said a second voice. The first man chuckled and said, “I don’t believe it. A bunch of grown men afraid of a few animals and an old man?”

“Damn right, I’m scared. Greg had over a hundred men with him when he started after Joe. Along the way, the dogs took out over half of them and ate them before their bodies had a chance to cool. After Joe’s group killed half the people in town, this old man came in with his dogs and killed the rest. He’s after Joe; just like we are. If we would’ve known that, Greg and his men would still be alive. If he is headed this way, I want to be long gone before he gets here. If the man and his critters are on the move, you can bet Joe is out of the mountain. I tell you firsthand that Joe and his people are just as bad as the dogs,” the second man said.

“Isn’t he the one with the giant wolf?” asked the first man.

“Don’t even talk about that wolf around here. Most of us get skittish every time the subject is brought up,” said the second man in a nervous voice.

“Seem’s to me all of you could use a little backbone. I have yet to see the dog or wolf I’m afraid of,” said the first man in a belligerent voice.

“Good, then you can stay behind and find out what the old coot wants,” the second man said.

“Wait a minute. Just because I’m not afraid, doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” the first man hurriedly said.

“Just as I thought, talk’s cheap. Let’s go help them load the truck so we can get out of here.”

Jake heard them arguing as they left. He waited until they were at the warehouse and eased from behind the abutment. He went to the bottom of the ravine and jogged until it was safe to climb out. At the road, he checked both ways, then continued between the hills until he came to the side road where Joe stood guard.

Joe stepped from behind a tree, “Are they after you?”

Jake waved his hand for Joe to give him time to catch his breath. Hands on knees, he said, “Zeb is heading this way and the men are in a hurry to leave.”

“Did they say how far back he is?” Joe asked.

“No, but from the way they’re acting; he can’t be too far away,” Jake answered, straightening up.

“Stand guard while I go get Gail and the kids,” Joe said and took off at a run up the dirt road. Ten minutes later, he came back behind the wheel of the beat-up Ford Ranger. Polly and the kids were in the back. Jake jumped in the back with them and Joe pulled onto the road. He drove to just below the top of the hill, leading down to the town, and parked the truck beside the road. Together, they crawled to the top of the hill and looked down at the town.

“We need two bigger vehicles, Jake. See if you can spot two full-sized pickups. I’ll take the west side of town. You take the east,” Joe said, raising his binoculars to his eyes. They heard someone blow a horn three times, wait a few seconds, then repeat the signal. The men standing guard made their way to the trucks, where they climbed in the back of them. Soon, they heard the grinding of gears and watched the trucks pull onto the main street and head away from them.

“I spotted a car lot on the other side of town,” Jake said.

Running back to the pickup, Jake jumped in the back while Joe got behind the wheel. As they topped the hill, Jake saw the last truck disappear across a hill on the other side of town. Joe drove down the main street until he came to the car lot Jake had seen. Looking at the vehicles, Jake realized where the new Ford Explorer the leader of the men was driving came from. There were over fifty brand-new cars and trucks of every model sitting on the lot. Gail, Polly and the kids were checking out the cars while Joe and Jake looked at the trucks.

“A car would be nice, but where we’re going, a four-wheel drive truck would be better,” Joe said, opening the door of a rugged looking Ford pickup.

Jake wondered over to a Jeep Grand Wagoneer sitting in the corner of the lot. After checking it out, he said, “This will give us enough room for one or two to sleep in the back while another drives. You can take the pickup and haul Stalker’s body in it. We can switch drivers a couple times a day. That monster will beat your kidneys to death in no time.”

They went into the building and found the office. Keys were spread all over the floor and desk. After half a dozen tries, they found the keys to fit the pickup and Wagoneer. They put Stalker’s body in the back of the pickup, along with the supplies they brought. They found a couple CB radios and mounted them in the vehicles. Gail, Polly and Tommy got in the Wagoneer with Jake, while Tammy climbed in the cab of the pickup with Joe. Joe pulled out of the lot in the lead, with Jake close behind. They went in the same direction as the men with the trucks full of computers. As Joe drove, Tammy looked at a map she found at the car lot.

“About ten miles ahead, a four-lane highway cuts across this road. It goes north into Wyoming. If the men ahead of us remain on this road, we can use that one,” Tammy told him. Joe played with the radio, trying to pick up the channel the men ahead of them were using. A voice blared from the speaker on channel twenty-seven. He turned the volume down and heard a man say, “Damn it, Andy, if we take Route 36 south, we can be there in two hours.”

Tammy was busy trying to find the route on the map when another voice said, “Okay, we’ll go that way, but if we break down in that godforsaken land, I’m going to beat you to a pulp.”

“Good, we can stay on 34 and hit I-25 at Loveland. It’ll take us north to Cheyenne and on to Casper,” Tammy said.

Joe changed the CB to channel three and told Jake the route they were going to take. Everything was going fine; they were making good time. About ten miles from Cheyenne, Jake came on the radio saying, “We have company behind us, Joe.”

Joe looked behind them in the big side view mirror. Miles back down the road, he saw the headlights of a bunch of vehicles. Picking up the mike, he said, “Jake, we have to get off the inter-state before they get close enough to see that we’re not from around here.”

Tammy was looking at the map, trying to find a road breaking away from the interstate.

“According to the map, there’s nothing between here and Cheyenne.”

“They’ll catch up to us by then, unless I speed up and I don’t want to go roaring into Cheyenne without first checking it out.” Rounding a curve, Joe saw a bridge ahead. He jerked the truck toward the berm and went down the steep grade. A fence to keep animals off the road ran along the bottom of the bank. He steered between two posts and heard a screeching as the fence broke and scraped the sides of the truck. Cutting the wheel to the left, he gunned the motor and pulled the lever up into four-wheel low range.

In the rearview mirror, he saw Jake steer the Wagoneer through the fence. Bouncing over ruts and holes, he drove off the bank into the shallow stream. For a moment, the rear bumper hung up on the bank until the front wheels dug in and pulled it off. Keeping near the bank, he drove under the bridge.

Jake pulled up beside him a few moments later. Now it all depended on whether the people behind them saw them leave the road. Joe got out of the truck and was joined by Jake.

“Get your rifle and join me near the top,” Joe said and started up the bank. He climbed up under the bridge. He crawled up until he came to a guardrail. Lying on his stomach, he looked back down the road. Still a couple miles away, he saw the cars approaching. Jake crawled up beside him. When they got closer, Joe saw it was a large convoy of cars and trucks. They all had their lights on, though it wasn’t dark enough to require their use yet. A bright yellow Chevy pickup was in the lead, with the back of it filled with people. From the looks of it, they were having a good time. They saw several of the people raise bottles to their lips and drink. As the truck went by, Joe and Jake both jumped as a beer bottle broke against the guardrail a dozen feet from them. They heard the people whooping and yelling.

Two dozen cars and trucks passed and still the end of the convoy wasn’t in sight. A little way down the road, they saw a pickup pull out of the line of traffic onto the berm. The truck slowed as it approached the bridge.

Joe tapped Jake on the shoulder and motioned backward. They crawled back until they could get under the bridge. They heard the men in the pickup shout insults at the cars going by. The crunch of loose asphalt stopped twenty feet out on the bridge.

“Damn, Buster, I thought you were never going to stop. My eyes are going down for the third time,” a man on the bridge above them said. Moments later, a stream of yellow liquid fell from above to hit the ground. Soon, there were half a dozen streams falling from the top of the bridge. A whiskey bottle floated over the side and broke on a rock near the stream bank.

They heard another vehicle pull in behind the pickup. A woman’s voice said, “Any of you boys up for a little loving?”

“Who in their right mind would fuck an ugly bitch like you, Susan?” one of the men yelled in a drunken voice.

“Listen to who’s talking, girls. Shorty no-dick, calling me ugly. Let me tell you something, girls, even when Shorty has a hard-on, you can barely see his dick, it’s so small.” Men and women laughed at that.

“That’s because the only thing you’ve humped in the last five years, Susan, is that old German shepherd of yours.”

“He’s a hell of a lot better than you are, Shorty,” yelled the woman. This caused another round of laughter.

“Come on, Buster. Let’s get the hell out of here,” the insult-ed Shorty said.

“Hold your horses, Shorty. Susan may be ugly, but some of those girls with her are pretty cute. Hey, Susan, ask that cute little blond sitting next to you if she wants to play dip the wick with me?”

Buster yelled.

“She says catch her tonight, and she’ll fuck your brains out,” Susan yelled back.

“Damn it, the bitch knows we’re leaving for Casper at midnight,” Buster muttered. He got the men back on the truck and they pulled in behind the last car.

“Shit, they’re going the same way we are,” Jake said, after the cars were out of sight.

“He said they weren’t leaving until midnight. That gives us six hours to get a long way in front of them. Either they’re meeting another group in Casper, or the city is held by people like us. We’ll give them another fifteen minutes, then get back on the road,” Joe said, sliding down the bank to the truck. Joe had to use the winch on the front of the pickup to pull the Wagoneer up the creek bank. Joe climbed the bank to the highway on foot and looked both ways along the highway, then motioned for Jake and Gail to drive up to the road.

Tammy was studying a detailed map of Cheyenne. She raised her head and said, “There’s a beltway around the city. If we take it, we might not run into those people again.”

“Oh, no,” Joe heard Jake groan.

“What’s the matter, Jake?”

“Look back to where the stream comes through the mountain.”

Joe looked that way and at first, didn’t see anything. Then he saw a dog climb out of the stream. It was followed by a dozen more. They all stood there, staring in Joe’s direction. He saw movement on the mountain and watched a pack of dogs come over the top of it. “How could Zeb have caught up with us so fast?”

“Zeb’s a long way back, I’ll bet. His animals are keeping track of us,” Gail said.

“Joe, I was listening to the CB and they were talking about all the groups meeting in a place called Colter Bay in Western Wyoming. They’re talking about capturing a town just across the Montana border. From their conversations, I gather this town has withstood attacks by groups they sent in to take it in the last month. The town is just south of I-91, that’s the road we wanted to use. Maybe we can take the time to warn the town. The numbers I get are about five thousand will be attacking. With some warning, the townspeople may be able to hold them off. What do you think?” Tammy asked.

“We’ll try, Tammy. A lot depends on what happens between here and there. The people who just passed are supposed to link up with another group in Casper tomorrow, and we’ll need to find a way around it. I figure three hours hard travel will get us close to the city. I would like to get there around two or three in the morning. At that time of night, it isn’t likely we’ll be spotted,” Joe told her.

“First, we have to get by Cheyenne,” Jake mentioned.

“One thing at a time,” Joe muttered.

They traveled up the interstate with Joe and Tammy a mile ahead of Jake and the Wagoneer. Topping a small hill, he saw the start of Cheyenne ahead of them. Joe pulled to the side of the road and took out his powerful binoculars. He spotted the beltway around the city. The people who passed them were parked at a McDonald’s where the interstate ran into the roadway Joe wanted to take. From the looks of things, they planned to spend the night there. The beltway cut through the suburbs, as far as he could see, and they were sure to be spotted if they tried to reach it. Joe backed the truck to the other side of the hill and joined Jake, who had waited there.

“Jake, wait here and keep an eye on the people in town. Tammy and I are going back to try and find out how many dogs are following us. We’ll be back around dark.”

“Okay, check in every half hour. Subtract four from the channel I tell you to check in on the next time. If they do pick us up on the radio, that should fool them for no longer than we’re on the air,”

Jake told him.

Joe kissed Gail and stilled her protests about going with him. He told her not to worry about Tammy, saying they had been through many situations like this. He climbed in the pickup and turned around. Tammy waved at Tommy as they started back down the road.

Five miles down the road, they spotted their first dog standing along the interstate. The dog was gaunt, nothing but skin and bones. Tongue hanging out of the side of its mouth, it was barely able to stand up on its wobbly legs. Half a mile further, they saw another one beside the road. It lay on its side feebly kicking, as it tried to get to its feet. The animal’s sides heaved in and out. Stopping twenty feet from it, they watched its body convulse several times and lay still. Down the straight stretch of road, they saw several dogs climb up the bank to the interstate. Upon reaching the road, they ran on wobbly legs toward where Joe sat in the truck.

“The damn things are running themselves to death trying to keep up with us,” he told Tammy.

“Joe, if we take off back the way we came, they’ll follow us. Any different dogs will be weakened by the time we turn around. We’ll never get rid of them completely, because wherever we go, there are bound to be dogs. If we can keep them running themselves into the ground to keep up with us, they won’t be able to gather in large numbers.”

“Good idea, Tammy,” Joe said as he put the pickup in gear. Soon, they were rolling back down the highway toward Denver. Several times, Joe swerved to miss dogs on the road. The further south they went, the more animals they saw.

Twenty miles south of where they started, they saw more dead dogs lying on the road and in the fields to the side. A chill ran down Joe’s back. Anything as determined as these animals were was a force to be reckoned with.

Fifty miles down the road, he pulled into a rest stop and waited until he spotted the first dogs loping up the road behind them. When they were a quarter of a mile away, Joe turned around, crossed the medium and floored the truck and headed back north.

Every now and then, a few of the dogs would throw themselves in front of the truck. Joe knew what they were trying to do. If enough of them could get in front of him, he would be forced to slow down. If that happened, the dogs would be able to throw enough bodies in front of the truck to cause him to stop. Lucky for him, he had turned the front wheel hubs to lock at the rest stop. This allowed Joe to use the brute strength of the rugged four-wheel drive.

With yelps and howls of pain, the dogs continued to throw themselves in front of the truck. The steering wheel jerked back and forth in his hands as the front wheels hit them. His speed had dropped from fifty to thirty since hitting the first wave of dogs. Reaching down, he pulled the floor lever up into four-wheel drive high. He felt the front wheels spin as they crushed panting dogs beneath them. Although he had the gas pedal floored, their speed continued to drop. When the speedometer reached fifteen miles an hour, Joe pulled the lever up into four-wheel low. The wide, deep lugged tires dug and spun on the flesh under them. At times, the front of the truck was a foot off the pavement, before the spinning tires dug through the flesh to the road. They were going so slow, the dogs launched themselves at the windows.

Joe began to think they weren’t going to make it when, with one last bump over the bodies, he saw clear road ahead. Wiping the sweat from his face, Joe once again floored the truck until he was a quarter mile ahead of the pack of dogs that loped after them. He slowed down enough to take the truck out of four-wheel drive.

Joe accelerated until they were doing just under seventy, leaving the dogs behind. The steering wheel jerked back and forth slightly in his hands. A tie-rod must have bent while he drove over the dogs. If the jerking became worse, he would have to slow down.

Until then, he was going to put as much distance between him and the dogs as he could. The last ten miles was clear of dogs. They had all taken off south after him. He guessed they had gained an hour, maybe two, before enough of the dogs could get there to cause trouble. It was almost dark when he pulled up beside the Wagoneer. He could barely make out Jake, lying at the top of the hill.

Pushing open his door, he was struck by the smell of blood and flesh. The outside of the truck smelled like a slaughterhouse. Holding his nose, he got down on his hands and knees to look under the truck. Pieces and parts of dogs were wedged everywhere. He saw the reason for the vibration in the steering wheel. A small dog was wedged between the tie-rod and the frame. The still alive dog snapped at him as he reached to pull it out.

Sliding the big gator knife out of its sheath on his leg, Joe cut the animal’s throat. Waiting until it was dead, he pulled it out and threw it to the side of the road.

Jake walked from the top of the hill and eyed the gore all over the truck. “They’ve settled down for the evening. They didn’t even post a guard,” he told Joe.

From the south, they could faintly hear the mournful howls of dogs. “I had hoped to wait until later before going in and hitting the beltway. With the racket the dogs are making as they come up the road, the people will be on the alert. If we try to sneak through without lights and are spotted, they’ll be on us before we know it. I suggest we drive to the beltway, nice and slow, like we belong there. If anyone sees us, they’ll think we’re part of their group, or strag-glers from another, and won’t pay atten-tion to us,” Joe told them.

With Joe in the lead, they drove across the hill and down into the valley. No one came out to stop them. They all breathed a sigh of relief when they left the city.

Chapter 21

Zeb parked the dune buggy at the top of the hill overlooking Casper. Thousands of dogs spread out on either side of the hill. Many of them could hardly stand; they had been running for so long.

“This is doing us no good, old one. Too many of my creatures are dying because of the pace we are setting. At this rate, I will lose half of my creatures. No, we must set a more leisurely pace to allow them to keep up without killing themselves. Have no fear, old one, we will catch Joe. It will just take a little longer.”

Zeb stared at Org, then looked down in the valley. He saw smoke rising from a lot of chimneys. This must be an area where the power is off. They had run across several areas like that. To warm themselves, people had taken to staying in houses with wood stoves or fireplaces. Most of the time, they broke up furniture from nearby houses to use as fuel. In some of the towns they passed through, Zeb had noticed some freshly burned homes. He imagined it happened when some city slicker tried to use the woodstoves and didn’t know how they operated. His heart ached for what the country was becoming. In small ways, the standard of living was falling. Some people, sane and crazy, wouldn’t get through another winter if the electricity continued to fail, as was happening now. So used to turning a switch and having heat to warm them on cold winter nights, they wouldn’t be able to cope with the cold. Modern living was nice, he had to admit, but too many people had forgotten the lessons they had learned in the past. Now that simply staying alive was a struggle, many of them wouldn’t make it.

Org interrupted his thoughts by saying, “There is a strange source of power in that town. Can you not feel the probe it is sending out, old one? It is like a radar beacon, sweeping round and round. We must be careful until we discover what it is.”

Zeb reached out with his mind. Aided by the part of Org in his brain, he felt the sweep of the probe as it passed. It was low level and seemed to pose no menace. He felt it was searching for something. Everything it came across, it ignored. He knew the one thing Org couldn’t stand was to be ignored. Around him, the dogs came to their feet and split into two groups. One headed for the east side of town, while the rest headed toward the west. They took their time, conserving energy.

“Take us back to the other side of the hill, and out of sight, old one. I want to wait until my creatures report to me before we continue.”

Zeb backed the dune buggy over the hill and pulled to the side of the road. He took the small cooler, which was tied to the back, and walked over to a shady tree. Sitting on the grass, he lifted a container of bottled water out of the cooler. He sipped from the bottle as Org paced up and down the road.

Putting up his defenses, he withdrew into his mind and tried to find out what was disturbing Org. Flickering images of power and something else that hid in the shadows flickered across Org’s mind. Org was thinking about going on, but still wanted to find out what this new source of power was before he continued.

Zeb heard the frantic messages Org sent to the dogs, who were entering Casper. More than anything else, Org was confusing them. Some concepts, they just weren’t able to comprehend. Power was one of them. To the dogs, power meant either a car or a firearm.

They reported seeing all kinds of cars and trucks. A few of them reported seeing humans with guns. The more Org explained these weren’t what he was looking for, the more confused the dogs became.

Zeb felt Org block the probe every time it passed over them. At first, Zeb didn’t notice the probe had stopped its regular pattern. Org didn’t either. He was concentrating on getting information from his dogs.

When Org kept throwing up a block for the probe and it wasn’t there, Zeb noticed its absence. This was another piece of information Zeb might find useful in the future. Org couldn’t concentrate on more than one or two things at a time.

Zeb was the first one to notice it, only because he was watching for a change. He felt something coming from the town and drew his mind back. On the road, Org let out a howl of pain and ran in circles.

Gently, Zeb drew back into the edges of Org’s mind. He was hit by a mind-numbing pain. He saw Org throwing up mind blocks, which were torn down as soon as he erected them. Org severed the link with the dogs in town and the pain quit.

The power had used the link between Org and the dogs to get to him. Zeb withdrew and stumbled to the dune buggy where he rummaged in his pack until he found a bottle of aspirins. Taking off the cap, he poured half a dozen tablets into his hand and then in his mouth. He washed them down with water. His head felt like it was going to burst. Zeb felt the beat of his heart in the temples of his head.

Turning around, he saw Org lying in the road. The small dog’s sides heaved rapidly in and out as he tried to cope with the pain. Staggering to where Org lay, Zeb lifted the small dog and carried it to the dune buggy. He laid Org on the seat and forced an aspirin between his teeth and down his throat. Holding Org’s head with one hand, he tilted the bottle of water and let the liquid trickle into the dog’s open mouth. Org sputtered and clawed Zeb’s arm as he tried to get away. Zeb held him tight until the aspirin kicked in.

“Thank you, old one. The thing you gave me has eased the pain enough for me to block it. Now that I have some idea of what it is, it will not happen again.”

“What was it that caused you so much pain?”

“You will not understand, old one, but I will tell you, anyway. The pulse that came down the link between me and my creatures was a form of pure negative energy. In your world, almost everything operates on a positive energy source. When the negative energy hit my positively-charged brain cells, it started short-circuiting them. If I had not broken the link with my creatures, it would have destroyed my mind, and yours as well. Whoever or whatever the source of power is, it knew exactly how to get to me. This worries me. I knew nothing of, nor have heard of, a mind as powerful as this. We will remain here until I find out what sort of creature can do this to me. We will go back to the small town we passed and find shelter for the day.”

Org was right about one thing, Zeb didn’t understand any of his explanation. All he knew about positive and negative charges was how they hooked up to the battery in a car. The red lead was connected to the post with a plus mark beside it and the black to the one with the minus mark. All this talk about positive and negative energy went completely over his head.

He carried Org over and laid him on the seat. Zeb climbed behind the wheel and headed back down the road. Fifteen miles later, they came to the town, if it could be called that. There were only six buildings and they weren’t in the best shape. He drove up to the largest building, which had a post office, store and bar on the ground floor. Entering the post office first, he found the floor littered with letters and half the mail boxes had the doors smashed off them. Mail bags were thrown around, some of them still containing mail.

Shaking his head, Zeb went next door to the store. The door hung by only one hinge and canted sharply down. He had to lift up and drag it open. The place looked like a bomb had hit it. Glass jars of food lay broken all across the floor. Most of the stuff that would rot had already done so. The place still smelled rank. He backed out, holding his nose. Taking a few deep breaths, he washed the stench from his lungs.

Walking down to the corner of the building, he thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. When he looked in that direction, he couldn’t spot anything. Opening the door leading to the bar, he was surprised to find it in good shape. Everything was a little dusty, but all in all, the place wasn’t trashed.

Going behind the bar, he slid back the lid on one of the large beer coolers. The thing was half full of warm beer. He lifted one out and twisted the cap off. Taking a sip of the warm liquid, he spat it out. If he had some ice to cool it in, it wouldn’t taste half bad. On the shelf behind the bar were several bottles of whiskey. He picked up a bottle of Scotch and took a drink. The stuff burned all the way to the bottom of his stomach. His eyes watering, he put the cap back on the bottle. The place wasn’t big. It had four small tables and a dozen bar stools. An old Wurlitzer jukebox stood in the corner. A coal stove sat against the back wall near a door, leading to the back of the building. Going to the door, his hand brushed against the stove. He jerked it back and gently touched it with his other hand. The metal was hot to the touch. Someone had built a fire in it recently. Probably last night to take off the chill.

Carefully, he eased the door open. The room had a bed and chest of drawers in it. Crossing the room, he bent down and looked at the white quilt covering the well-made bed. Not a speck of dust could he see. He checked the floor for footprints. The only ones visible were his own, leading to the door in the thin layer of dust.

Taking his cap off, Zeb scratched his head. He knew someone had slept in the bed; otherwise, the quilt would have been dusty. How they reached the bed without leaving footprints was a mystery. The top of the chest of drawers had a film of dust on it. A six by eight picture of a young man and a redheaded girl sat there. He ran his finger across the top of the frame. No dust on it, which meant it had been placed there recently.

He opened a door on the other side of the room and found a walk-in closet. Shirts and pants hung on a bar near the rear, along with a few dresses. Near the inside wall were several pair of blue jeans and some pullover shirts. They belonged to a much smaller person and didn’t have any dust where they crossed the clothes hangers. He guessed they belonged to whomever was staying here. Leaving the room, he crossed to the front door. Org waited patiently on the porch outside the bar.

“Is this place suitable for us, old one?” he asked as he trotted through the door Zeb held open for him.

“Yes, this will do and we can even have a fire tonight to warm our bones.” He decided not to tell Org the place had been recently occupied. Org sniffed around the room. He snorted as dust entered his nose and gave up.

Zeb leaned against the bar, and tried to keep from laughing as Org inhaled a nose full of dust. Org finally went over and lay down under a window with sunshine streaming through it. He opened the door on the stove and stirred the ashes around. Soon, he had some of the embers glowing. He placed a few small pieces of wood on the embers from a stack sitting off to the side of the stove. As the small pieces caught fire, he placed larger chunks on top of them. Going out to the dune buggy, he un-strapped the cooler from the back and carried it inside. He put it on the bar and took out half a dozen cans of soda. He reached over and took the same number of cans of beer out of the broken cooler and put them in where the soda had been. The amount of ice he had was getting low, but he figured there was enough to cool the beers. He made himself a couple sandwiches and washed them down with one of the cold sodas taken from the cooler. Org lay snoring in the patch of sunshine. Zeb decided to go out and sit on the porch. Carrying a chair from one of the tables near the door, he sat down and leaned back against the wall. Dogs wandered up and down the street looking for something to eat.

Occasionally, two of them would start fighting. For the most part, they were too fatigued to do much more than lay in the shade and sleep. He felt drowsy himself and fought against drifting into sleep.

After a while, he got up and walked across the street to another building. The door was locked so he broke one of the small panes of glass. Reaching through the hole, he unlocked it. The room was dark inside, so he raised the blinds on the windows. Turning to face the room, he jumped back startled. His heart racing, he noticed several people across the room.

Zeb started to speak, then noticed the expressions on their faces. They were frozen in different positions. He walked over to the nearest one and let out a sigh of relief. Mannequins, dressed up for display, eight of them stood in the corner. He touched one of them, as if to assure himself they were not real. One of the smaller mannequins, half-hidden behind another one, seemed familiar. He couldn’t place where he had seen the face before.

Shaking his head, Zeb turned to search the rest of the room. Merchandise lay on tables and hung on the walls. He saw carpenter tools and a harness for a team of horses.

Zeb couldn’t shake the feeling he had seen the small mannequin before. He rummaged around in a case that contained hand guns. A nice little .38 lay at the back. He picked it up and liked the feel of it in his hand. He put it in the waistband of his pants. Under a shelf were boxes of shells. Zeb opened a box of .38 shells and loaded the gun. He filled one of his pockets with more shells. Straightening up, Zeb remembered where he had seen the face of the mannequin. The face belonged to the girl in the picture on the chest of drawers in the bedroom at the bar. With the .38 in his hand, he crossed to the mannequins. One of them was missing. He saw a partially open door behind the mannequins and went to it. Looking through the door, Zeb could see it was a storeroom. He heard hinges squeak and saw light flash at the back of the room. Going down an aisle between supplies, he came to an exit in the rear wall. Opening it, he shielded his eyes from the bright sunshine. He glanced to the left and right.

Damn, the girl was quick, he couldn’t see her anywhere. Placing the gun in the waistband of his pants, he closed the door. In the main room of the store, he picked up a pair of heavy work gloves and a bright orange baseball cap. Leaving the store, he looked up and down the street. He knew, at least one set of eyes watched him.

Zeb walked down to the filling station and went into the office. He would have to find some way to get gas out of the underground tanks. The dune buggy was almost empty. With the power off, the pumps outside wouldn’t work. He noticed an extension cord coming under the door leading to the bay area of the garage. Following it, Zeb ended up at the end of the office where it entered an electrical box. It was wired into a circuit breaker labeled: pump one.

Opening the bay door, he traced the cord to a small room in back of the garage. On the floor was a small, portable Honda generator. A flexible tube was clamped to the exhaust that went through a hole in the wall. He checked the generator and flipped on the switch. Pulling on the starter cord, the small engine coughed a few times. He pulled the choke halfway out and pulled the cord again. The engine sputtered as it started, and he adjusted the choke until it ran smoothly. Going outside, he went to the pump at the end and flipped the lever down. The numbers rolled back to zero and the motor in the pump kicked on. He squeezed the handle on the nozzle and gas spurted out of the hose. Neat, very neat, now he could fill the dune buggy and the extra gas cans strapped to the front bumper. He went back and shut off the generator. For a piddling little nothing of a town, someone had done a lot of work to make sure needed things would work. Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his head around. A fleeting flash of red showed near the window. Taking his time, he went outside and ambled to the end of the garage. He saw nothing but a few dogs wandering around. How could the person flit around without the dogs seeing them and raising a racket?

Zeb had a lot of questions and few answers. He left the garage and went back to the bar. Org had moved over near the stove and was fast asleep.

Lifting a beer out of the cooler, Zeb went back to the porch and sat down. Twisting off the cap, he sipped the semi-cold brew. It felt good going down. He finished it and set the empty can down beside the chair. The beer, combined with the warm afternoon air, soon had his head nodding on his chest.

Sunlight streaming over the lip of the porch roof woke him. Moving nothing but his eyes, he saw a girl standing at the end of the porch. She held her finger across her lips and motioned for him to follow her. Standing up, he looked to where the girl stood waiting. Several dogs passed within inches of her without noticing her. A lot of them glanced at him when he stood, but they acted as though the girl didn’t exist.

When he reached the end of the porch, she turned around and walked down the side of the building. Following her, Zeb noticed that she wasn’t very tall. He doubted if she was five feet. Her long red hair hung to her waist. She was so slim, that from the rear, it would be easy to mistake her for a boy. She stopped at a small house behind the bar and went inside.

Following her, Zeb paused at the door and looked around. The girl sat on a couch against the wall, with a television and chair across from her. She motioned for him to sit in the chair. Sitting, he looked at her. He flinched upon seeing the once-beautiful face, now mutilated. Ugly scars, a few months old, criss-crossed her face. Zeb saw that they had just recently stopped scabbing. “Who in the world done that to you, girl?”

She started writing in a tablet she held in her hand.

A group of men captured me six months ago and tortured me. Cut out my tongue and raped me. Who are you?

Why are you traveling with that vile creature sleeping inside the bar?

Zeb told her his name and explained the creature was called Org. He told her how Org had put part of himself in Zeb’s mind and controlled him by using pain. He explained that he couldn’t kill Org, without the creature taking his life as well.

So you are a prisoner of this Org?

“I was, but I’m learning how to block most of the pain Org throws at me when I displease him. I act as if the pain is terrible and pretend I can’t take anymore, which causes him to stop. Slowly, I’m building buffers in my mind, which will allow me to escape from him. How can you walk around without the dogs noticing you?”

I don’t know. I was in the garage when you came into town. As I went out the back door, a large dog stood there looking at me. I thought it was all over. I knew he would get to me before I could make it back inside. I stood perfectly still. The dog got a puzzled look on his face and walked forward and stuck his head in the door. I was less than six inches from him and he completely ignored me. After a few minutes, he backed away and continued around the building. A little later, I ran into a pack standing in front of the hardware store. They didn’t pay attention to me. Stopping in front of one that looked really mean, I made as if to hit it. It paid no attention to me. That is how I found out the dogs cannot see me.

“How long have you been staying here and what happened to the boy I saw in the picture with you?”

The young man was to be my husband this June. We lived in a small town north of Denver. Neither of us caught the disease and we stayed in town while all the infected people went to Denver. For the first two weeks, we were left to ourselves.

One night after we went to bed, a bunch of them snuck up to the house we were in. They kicked the door in and held guns on us as we lay there. Roy jumped out of bed and asked what they thought they were doing. One of the men hit him over the head with the barrel of his rifle.

Two of them grabbed the covers from me and yanked them off. They stood around laughing and making jokes as I lay there trying to cover myself. Their leader was a short man, who, in the past, kept pestering me for a date. He walked over and slapped me. As my hands flew up to protect myself, he began to maul my breasts. I kicked out with my foot and hit him in the crotch. He fell to the floor with a grunt. The rest of his gang came over and held my arms and legs. Jack, the man I kicked, clawed his way up from the floor. His face was twisted with pain as he dug in his back pocket and brought out a switchblade knife. He brought the knife to my temple and slowly dragged it down to my chin leaving a gaping cut.

By this time, Roy had regained consciousness and saw what was going on. He rushed Jack and knocked him off me. Two of his gang grabbed Roy and held his arms. Jack had the men lead Roy over to the bed and place him in a kneeling position beside me. He had another man hold Roy’s head back. Jack whipped the switchblade across Roy’s throat. Blood squirted across the bed, landing on my face and upper body. I tried to get out of the way, but they held me down. Roy struggled so much, two more men had to grab and hold him. As the stream of blood slowed down, so did his struggles. From the waist up, I was covered with my loved one’s blood. Not satisfied, Jack straddled my chest and went to work on my face with his knife. He only quit because my face had so much blood on it, he couldn’t find a clear place to cut anymore. He stood and yanked down his pants, then knelt beside my head. He tried to shove his member in my mouth. I snapped, they were going to kill me anyway, so I wanted to injure them in any way I could. I opened my mouth and took as much of Jack’s member as I could. He let out a sigh that turned to a scream as I clamped my teeth down. Shaking my head from side to side, I ground my jaws together. Suddenly, a gush of blood hit my face and Jack’s body fell away from me. In my hysterical state, I didn’t realize I had bitten his member off. The men fell back as Jack rushed toward them with blood spurting from below his waist. He rushed out of the room and that’s the last I seen of him. The other men picked up the sheet and wiped some of the blood off me. While four of them held me, the rest raped me, some of them, twice. The pain became so bad, I passed out. I think my rapists must have thought I was dead, because when I woke up, they were gone.

The first thing I did was take a long shower and washed all the blood and sperm off me. I did the best I could for the cuts on my face. Putting my clothes on, I went to an outbuilding and found a shovel. Picking a place in the backyard where the ground was soft, I started digging. The sun was coming over the mountains when I finished. I was so weak, I had to drag Roy by his ankles out to the grave. I rolled him into the hole in the ground and said a silent prayer. I was completely exhausted by the time I finished burying him. Staggering into the house, I took another shower, then dropped into the bed in the spare bedroom.

When I woke up, it was dark again. Going to the kitchen, I heated a can of soup and made two sandwiches. After I finished eating, I packed a backpack with food and filled two canteens with water. Going outside, I looked up at the sky. I had no idea where I would go, but I wanted to be away from there in case the men returned. A meteor streaked across the sky in the north. It seemed like a good omen, so I took the back streets out of town and headed in that direction. I walked by night and hid during the day. I got here about a month ago and decided to stay until I made up my mind what I was going to do. Every now and then, groups of people go by on the interstate, but none of them stop. I started thinking I could spend the summer here without being disturbed. Then you showed up. Now I don’t know where I’ll go.

She handed him the pages as she wrote them. Finished, she hung her head to keep him from seeing her face.

“Now don’t be like that, girl. Maybe some of the young bucks would laugh and turn away from you, but I never will. Age teaches a body that it’s not what someone looks like on the outside, but what they have in their heart that makes them beautiful.” He reached over and raised her chin, looking her square in the eye to let her know he was serious.

Thank you. You’re so kind. If there were only more people like you in the world. That’s just wishful thinking, though. The world we knew no longer exists.

He read from the sheet of paper she handed him.

“Listen, girl, if the dogs can’t see you, do you think it’ll be the same way with Org?”

Only one way to find out.

Getting to her feet, she walked out of the house.

Zeb followed behind her as she marched up to the bar. Hesitating for a few seconds, she raised her head and pushed open the door and stepped into the room. She went to the left and placed her back to the wall. Zeb walked over to where Org slept and nudged him with his foot. His hand was at the small of his back wrapped around the .38. If Org could see the girl and wanted to harm her, Zeb was prepared to kill him, even if it meant Zeb’s own death.

“Why do you disturb me, old one? I need rest to recover from the strange power that attacked us this morning.”

Climbing to his feet, he went to the water bowl Zeb had put against the bar. The girl flapped her arms as Org walked to the water. She danced around him, but he never hesitated and went directly to the bowl and started lapping up water with his tongue.

“I didn’t get your name, girl,” he said as she raised herself to sit on the bar.

“Old one, why must you talk to yourself all the time?” he heard Org ask in his mind. Zeb turned his head and smiled. Org couldn’t understand any spoken language. He could only impose his thoughts, which were turned into words in the mind he occupied. “I keep telling you, Org, I do it without realizing it. Talking to one’s self is something that happens to humans when they get old and I am older than most.”

“Try and control it more, old one. It is disturbing to hear you talking when I do not know what you are speaking about.” Org walked back to the stove and lay down beside it. “Wake me when it gets dark and we will travel back to the town with the strange power. Until then, do not disturb me.” He laid his head on his paws and was soon asleep.

Zeb walked over and took the piece of paper the girl held out to him. On it was written one word. Brianna.

“Well, Brianna, it looks like I’m the only one who can see you around here. Let me think on it a while and see if I can figure out a way of taking you with us.”

“Please, old one, must you? Go outside where I cannot hear your rumblings,” Org said in his mind. Zeb headed for the door motioning for the girl to follow. Once outside, he sat down on the top step and patted the spot beside him for her to sit. “You can sleep in the bedroom and I’ll bring in my sleeping bag and spread it on the floor.”

No need to do that, we can both sleep on the bed. It’s big enough and I trust you. Zeb read after she handed the sheet of paper.

“Listen, young lady, just because there’s frost on the roof and I’m old, doesn’t mean I don’t have desires. I do this for my own protection. I remember what you told me about the last fellow who tried to force himself on you. When I die, I want to go with everything I came into the world with,”

he told her with a laugh.

Shyly, she lowered her head and wrote furiously on the page. Tearing it from the book, she handed it to him and turned her head, blushing a deep red.

I would be gentle with you Zeb. After all, you are old and I wouldn’t want to be the cause of your having a heart attack. I insist we sleep in the same bed. If your desires get the best of you, you might not find me as opposed to the idea as you think.

He put his right arm around her and drew her close. “Brianna, even if I wanted to make love to you, I couldn’t because you are so young and it would be like child-molesting to me.” He didn’t like the twinkle in her eye as she turned her head to look at him.

We shall see, old man.

She got up and pointed to herself and laid her head on her folded hands. She was telling him she was going in to sleep. The lingering look she gave him from the open door bothered him. “Be careful around this one,” he said.

He drove the dune buggy down to the gas pump and filled it up, along with the gas cans on the front fender. He parked in front of the bar and went inside. He looked in the bedroom and saw Brianna asleep on her side. He went back to the cooler on the bar and took out a cold beer. He downed it in three gulps and went into the bedroom. He pulled the covers aside on the left side of the bed and got under them with his clothes on. He was almost asleep, when Brianna turned over and threw her arm over him. She snuggled up close against his back with her head next to his. He lay there rigid, until sleep overtook him and he relaxed. He would have worried if he had seen the smile on Brianna’s face as he relaxed.

Chapter 22

Tammy sat bolt-upright from where she slept against the door. “Pull over quick, Joe,” she said, holding her head.

“What’s wrong, Tammy?” he asked, as he steered the pickup to the side of the road.

“I sense trouble ahead of us, lots of it. We need to get off this road and stay well away from Casper. This feeling has a different texture to it. I don’t think I’m sensing the crazy people, but others even deadlier.”

Joe sat there watching Tammy and gave her time to sort out the feelings she received. Jake walked up to his window and asked why they’d stopped. After Joe told him, he suggested they take the time to eat something. While Gail and Polly made sandwiches from their dwindling supply of cold cuts, Joe stayed near Tammy. After a while, she shook her head and sighed.

“Can you describe what you felt, Tammy?” Joe asked.

“It was the strangest feeling, Joe. It was like a blank. Nothing was there; yet at the same time, I could feel the presence of people. With the crazies, I feel their hate. It’s the overriding emotion they send out, but this is an entirely different feeling. I’m still getting a low-level sense of the crazies, who are all around us. That’s not the problem; they’re always there. This was more like a mind scan. It locked onto me for a moment, then continued on. While the thing was in my mind, I had the overwhelming feeling of hunger. Not for food, this hunger was like nothing I’ve ever experienced and it scares me. Whatever this thing is, it’s using the crazies ahead of us without their knowledge.”

Gail handed Tammy a sandwich and a soda. She nodded her head for Joe to follow her and walked to the back of the Wagoneer.

A few moments later, he followed her. “What’s up, Gail?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I’ve been receiving bad feelings the further north we travel. At first, I attributed it to stress; but after hearing Tammy, I wonder if we all might be affected by this thing. About half an hour ago, Polly complained of a sudden headache. At about the same time, Tommy started moaning in his sleep and Jake wandered all over the road. I thought he fell asleep at the wheel. When I asked him, he said he didn’t remember weaving from side to side. Did you feel anything about the same time you noticed Tammy’s behavior?”

Joe thought back to just before Tammy sat up in the seat. He thought hard, but could only remember looking in the rearview mirror and seeing the Wagoneer half a mile behind them. Surely, he would have noticed Jake weaving all over the road? He remembered no such thing. He wanted to attribute it to the daze drivers get when they’re behind the wheel for a long time, but he knew that wasn’t the answer. He was aware, there were a few seconds his mind couldn’t remember, but had no idea how he knew.

They walked up and joined the others and asked them what they had felt. Polly said she had a sudden sharp pain in the back of her head that disappeared a few moments later. Jake didn’t remember anything. All Tommy could remember was having a dream that turned into a nightmare. Out of them all, only Gail and Tammy knew something was wrong.

“This is weird. I’ve always prided myself on being able to remember minute details. Now you tell me I did something I don’t remember doing. Are you sure I weaved all over the road, Gail?” Jake asked.

“Yes, Jake. Polly, you were awake. Didn’t you notice?”

“Sorry, Gail, all I can remember is the sharp pain. Other than that, Jake drove straight and steady.”

“Something happened, but we don’t know what it was. Since you two are the only ones who detected the differences, I’d like one of you to stay awake at all times. If either of you notice any strange behavior from the rest of us, no matter what it is, bring it to our attention immediately. We’re going to detour around Casper as far as we can.”

“You lead the way and we’ll follow you,” Jake told him.

“Keep a couple hundred yards between us. Gail, if you notice Jake doing anything wrong, flash your lights and we’ll stop. Twenty miles ahead, the map shows a side road that will take us around Casper. I want at least two of you awake at all times. Polly, you can relieve me when I get sleepy. Okay, let’s get out of here,” Joe said and headed for the pickup.

Unable to sleep, Tammy sat looking at the road map. Her mind was troubled by another impression she received from the mind probe. For an instant, she could see young children being tortured. She sensed that whatever it was derived its power from the pain inflicted on innocent children. She wanted to tell Joe, but he had enough to worry about without her unconfirmed feelings adding to his problems.

About an hour after she felt the first probe, Tammy felt it again. This time, it wasn’t as strong. She felt it trying to find something to lock onto in her mind. She kept shifting her thoughts around. For some reason, the probe couldn’t enter her mind as long as she concentrated on keeping it out. Tentatively, she probed with her mind to see what would happen. Instantly, she felt pain like never before. Shifting her probe, she came in at an angle. A white energy formed on the outside of her probe, taking away all the pain.

She followed the link back to its source. A man, short and bald, sat at a table in a room littered with junk. In the corner huddled two little boys. At their feet was a pool of blood. The taller boy tried to protect the smaller one by remaining in front.

The tall boy flinched and a whip came down across his shoulders. Blood seeped from where the whip had struck. The boy groaned in agony. He turned and Tammy got a look at his back. It was one massive raw red lump. The boy’s flesh quivered with pain. Every nerve ending in his body shouted for the pain to stop. The lash fell again on the boy’s back. He fell to his knees with great moaning sobs. Tammy sent the probe to the boy’s mind. The link she had traveled down to get there had a firm grip on the boy’s mind. Tammy felt the lash strike the boy’s back. A surge of agony raced for the boy’s brain. Just before it got to the nerve center, the agonized energy from the pain shot down the link to the man. The man let enough pain get to the brain’s nerve center to cause agony, but not enough to allow unconsciousness.

The bald man absorbed the energy of the boy’s agony like a sponge. She realized the man could keep this up for hours. The boy’s flesh knew it was in agony, but that pain never reached the control center of his brain. Tammy went to where the boy had taken shelter in his mind.

“Are you the one causing me such great pain?”

“No, but if I can help you, I will,” Tammy answered.

“There is no hope for me. My body has already died several times. When the man releases his hold on my mind, the rush of pain will overload it and my heart will stop. These things I know. If you really want to help, find a way to get my little brother out of here.” Another wave of agony shot down the link to the man.

Although protected by the glow around her probe, Tammy felt a small part of the pain the boy’s body was feeling. She gasped and shook her head from side to side. She thought her head was going to explode. The pain expanded outward like a flash of fire, searing her nerve endings. As quickly as it came, the pain receded. “How can you stand the pain?” she asked.

“For my brother, if I remain strong and give the man what he wants, he’ll leave my sibling alone. I’m weakening fast, now. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” said the boy. Tammy did a quick distance check, finding they were less than twelve miles from the room and the boy. Moving closer to the boy, she touched him with the bright glow. Like dawn coming over the horizon, the light spread over him. “Hang on for as long as you can. We’ll try and save your brother,”

she told him.

“What’s your name?” asked the boy.

“I’m Tammy. Please hold on until we get there. We’re not far away. I’m going to have to leave you for a while, but I’ll return as soon as I can.”

“My name’s Josh. Thank you, Tammy. Somehow, I’ll hold out until you get here. I’m looking forward to the blessed relief of death. Hurry, Tammy. Death is waiting for me.”

Tammy coiled her probe back across the distance to find Joe shaking her. The concerned faces of Gail and Polly leaned over Joe’s shoulder. “I’m okay, Joe. You can quit shaking me now.”

“What happened to you? One minute, you’re sitting there nice and calm. The next, you’re moaning in pain. I couldn’t get you to come out of the trance you were in,” Joe said, on the verge of tears because of his concern for her.

Tammy reached up and ruffled his hair. “Thank you, Joe. I’ll tell you about it later, but right now, we have to get to a house on the outskirts of Casper and save a little boy,” she told him. Without a word, Joe told the others to get in the Wagoneer and follow him. Tammy directed him over a series of crossroads and side streets until they came to a dead-end. She told Joe they needed to go to the last house. Joe drove across the lawn of the first house on the block and parked out of sight behind it.

“How many people are inside, Tammy?” Joe asked.

“Three that I know of; there could be more. Watch out for a short, bald man. He has some way of getting a mental lock on people’s minds. He has to be killed as soon as you enter the house. Be careful, Joe. I have to let Josh know we’re here.” She settled down in the truck seat and sent out her probe. It didn’t take long before she came across the man’s general probe, and linking to it, she followed it to Josh. Now, all she felt was one solid wall of pain beating against his mind, trying to get in. The glowing light that protected her sizzled and cracked as the pain tried to penetrate it. “Josh, I’m back and help is only a few minutes away.”

“I don’t know if I have a few minutes left,” he answered in an agonized voice. She touched his mind with her probe and some of the energy spread to him. The more energy she gave him, the weaker her shield became. Now she felt the pain. Not as much as he had felt, nevertheless, it caused her body to jerk around and moan. She felt Josh’s pain lessen to a point where it was tolerable.

“Don’t weaken yourself for me, Tammy. My time is almost up. I appreciate what you’re doing, but it only delays the inevitable. All I ask is that you keep me company in my last few minutes.” He forced her energy back to her and her pain diminished.

In the truck, Joe watched Tammy’s tossing and turning body. Every now and then, a tortured moan escaped her lips. He handed Gail a rifle, saying, “You and Polly stay here and protect her. Jake and I will go to the house. Shoot anything that comes close.” He kissed her and picked up his rifle. Jake joined him.

“How do you want to play this, Joe?”

“You take the other side of the street and I’ll take this one. The house at the end of the block is the one Tammy told us about. Check the others as you go by. We don’t want anyone to walk out and see us. We want to be in and out of there as quickly as possible. At the first shots, people will come to see what’s going on. We want to be out of there before they arrive.”

Joe peered from behind the hedges where they were hiding. When he noticed nothing moving, he motioned for Jake to cross to the other side. Jake ran across the street and ducked between two trees. Joe walked along the side of the house and crossed to the next. He saw a light at the back of it. Stepping carefully, he approached the partially-raised window and could hear laughter. He ducked down and listened.

“I tell you, there’s something strange about Will,” a voice said from inside the room.

“Hell, Carl. Half the people here are strange. Will is just a little worse than the rest,” a female voice said.

“I don’t like the way he takes the small kids we capture into his house. In case none of you have noticed, not one of them come out the next morning. What does he do with them? Remember what the man who lived next to him said? He told us a couple of the rooms were soundproof. Late at night, he would hear faint screams coming from the house. A couple times, he tried to find out what Will was doing. Will would chase him away and tell him to mind his own business. I get the shakes just thinking about Will catching me doing something I shouldn’t do.”

“Get me another beer, Carl,” the female voice said.

Joe heard the sound of a refrigerator opening and the clink of glass. He backed away from the window and made his way around the front to the house next door. He saw Jake one house down from him on the other side of the street. He hurried along and glanced quickly at the houses he passed. He finally got to his goal and paused behind a tree. It looked like an ordinary one-story house. The windows appeared blacker than normal, but they were probably painted.

He saw Jake take up a position behind a hedge next to the house. He edged from one tree to the next until he was about ten feet away. He was about to step from behind it, when a cat let out a squall and bounded away. The cat ran down the street like a dog was after it. He heard the door open and flattened himself against the tree.

An immense shadow filled the doorway. The figure walked to the edge of the porch and down the steps. The man was all chest and arms. He walked around the side of the house the cat bolted from. He reached down and adjusted something near the ground at the base of the tree next to the house. Rising up, he checked something chest-high. Satisfied, he walked close to the dwelling and edged around the corner. He climbed up on the porch from the side and went to the door. He stood there for a few minutes, looked around, and then closed it.

Joe slid down until he was prone on the ground. Slowly, he crawled toward the area the man had just checked. Approaching from the side, he inched forward until he was three feet away. He stared at the base of the tree. A small black box about the size of a pack of cigarettes was mounted on a tripod about six inches above the ground. Another one was mounted on a rod, waist high, from the bottom of the tree. He backed away until he came to the tree he had hidden behind. He motioned for Jake to join him. Jake ran over and squatted beside him.

“What was the big man doing around the side of the house?” Jake asked.

“Resetting the alarm system. Must be some kind of laser system. There are two sensors, one six inches above the ground and another three feet up. We need something that will let us get over the three foot sensor. See if you can find a stepladder. I’m going to find the other sensors.

* * * *

Tammy felt Josh weakening. “Hang on a little longer, Josh,” she told him. Every pore in her body ached with the torment he was going through. He had endured more pain than any human could stand, and it was on the verge of winning. From somewhere, he drew up his last ounce of energy and pushed it slightly back.

“Watch out for my little brother, Tammy. He’s a good boy. It’s time for you to withdraw from my mind now. When my block falters, the pain will rush in. Even your shield won’t protect you. The pain will blow away your shield like a twig in a tornado. One last thing, would you make sure my brother never forgets me? I’d like to think someone remembered me every now and then. Go quickly. I only have enough strength to keep it at bay until you leave.”

Tammy reluctantly withdrew from his mind. She saw an incred-i-ble amount of energy shoot down the link to the man. This was Josh’s life energy as his mind barriers broke down like a sinking ship. A new kind of rage began to build in her. The bright glow around her probe began to intensify. Back at the pickup where her body was, Gail and Polly backed away as her body began to glow. They watched as Tammy’s hair stood straight out from her head. What scared them most was the look on Tammy’s face, it was the visage of a maniac about to do something terrible. Tammy watched the glow become so bright; she had to hide her eyes. She knew nothing could stand against the force she generated. Turning toward the man, she saw him sneer at her.

“I knew you were there all the time, little girl. I could have crushed you anytime, but I wanted to find out who you are and why you’re here. You’re the first one I’ve run across with the same ability I have. Tell me, do you enjoy entering people’s minds? Do you need other people’s life force to survive?”

“I am nothing like you. You’re a monster that has to be destroyed. I could never be like you. I would rather die than be forced to kill innocent people to live. Only one of us will leave here alive.”

She shot a bolt of pure energy at him. He deflected the bolt with a wave of his hand.

“Nice try, young lady. I think you’re a little out of your league. Try this,” he waved his hand and a bolt of deep blackness shot from his hand.

A bolt of brightness met the black bolt and was absorbed by it. The bolt hit her and she never felt such pain before. The glow around her probe dimmed a little.

“That was but a small portion of the power I control, little girl. Now can we be civilized and hold a normal discussion, or do you want more of the pain?”

“What are you? Where do you come from? Most of all, why do you torture young children?”

“To be quite frank with you, I don’t know what I am. I woke up one morning with a desire to inflict pain on others. By shifting it to myself, I grow in power. Pain is like food to me. Without it, I’ll wither away and die. I don’t enjoy causing it, but like a drug addict, I can’t do without it either. Am I a man, or a monster? I don’t know. I have found that young people under the age of twelve have the will to live and can take a lot more than someone older. I wish it were otherwise, but I do what I must to survive. How is it that you’re so different from me? Do you not survive on the pain of others?” he asked in a puzzled voice.

Tammy was shocked. How could the man think she would do those things? She sensed a deep loneliness in him. He was eager to talk to her. “How long have you been like this?” she asked, maneuvering so that if he attacked, she could protect herself.

“One morning about two months ago, I woke up like this. Before that, I was an ordinary man. At times, I could be unpleasant, but mostly, I was just like everyone else. I ran an insurance agency in Fargo, North Dakota. I had a wife I loved and two beautiful children. They died six months ago of the disease. I wandered here and there after they died; not wanting to live. One day, I ran into a group of people who had the disease, but didn’t die of it.

“I joined them and they accepted me as one of them, although the disease never affected me. That in itself is strange, because they always kill anyone not like them. Most of the time, they ignore me, unless they have something they want me to do. They use me in situations where they want to inflict pain.

“They supply me with young victims so I can survive. In that sense, I’m dependent on them. As you can see, I’m not a big man. Left on my own, I wouldn’t be able to catch enough people to sustain myself. I’m trapped by what I have become. Basically, I’m the same person I used to be, I still reason and think and know right from wrong. I’m okay until the hunger hits me; then I become the monster you saw a few minutes ago.” He paused and cocked his head to the side, as if listening to something.

“Ah, your two friends are here. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Your friends are powerful, perhaps as strong as I am, but this is not the time or place to find out. Take the young boy with you and watch over him. Teach him to hate me. I’ve foreseen that when he grows up, we’ll meet and he will cause my death. Girl, you don’t know how much I wish that day were right now. Every night, I pray for death to release me from this wretched curse, even though I know it will do no good. I don’t ask for your pity, but every now and then, think of me as a man caught in a trap not of his own making.

“If you can find it in your heart, separate the man from the monster and say a prayer for him. You and I shall meet many times in the future, for our paths are intertwined. I’ll be searching for your thought pattern wherever I go. You now know my imprint. If you come across it during your many travels, I would be most grateful if you would take a few minutes and link to it. I’ll know and make sure the monster portion of me is safely tucked away. You’ll never again witness the scene of a few minutes ago. This is going to sound strange to you, but if you ever need my help, seek me out and I’ll come to your aid. I must leave now. Remember to contact me when we are near.” He broke the link and she traveled back to her own body.

* * * *

Jake placed the legs of the five foot stepladder on either side of the beams. Carefully, Joe climbed up one side and down the other. Jake did the same and followed him to the porch. Together, they crossed to the door. Joe placed his ear against it and listened. He could hear nothing from inside the house. Reaching down, he twisted the doorknob. It turned in his hand. Standing to the side, he pushed the door halfway open, expecting bullets to fly through the empty space.

Jake crawled through and went to the left. Joe stepped around to the right. By the faint moonlight coming through the door, they saw a normal looking living room. Joe expected the barrel-chested man to jump up and grab him at any second. He saw the sheen of sweat on Jake’s face and knew he was sweating as well.

It was too quiet. He covered Jake as he made his way around the couch to a door on the left. Jake opened it and looked in. He faced Joe and shook his head. “Nothing.” As Joe went to the door on the right, Jake took up a position across the room. Joe looked back at Jake and got a nod. Reaching out with his right hand, Joe turned the doorknob, then pushed the door inward. Nothing happened. Quickly, he glanced into the room. A bed and two dressers, but nothing else. He closed the door and started for the back of the room. Jake stood to the left of the door there and he took the right side. Joe motioned for Jake to go in low and to the right; while he would go in high and to the left. Taking a deep breath, Joe nodded and threw the door open. Jake scrambled in front of him to the right. He took three steps into the room to the left. Both of them were blinded for a split-second by the light. As his vision returned, Joe dropped into a crouch with the .45 sweeping the room. He saw the table and chair Tammy had described. The only person he saw was a small boy kneeling beside the body of another. Jake backed into the corner where he could cover the entire room. His eyes darting everywhere, Joe crossed the room. He stopped beside the kneeling boy. Reaching down, he grabbed the child under his arms and lifted him, with the boy making no sound at all, almost as if he wasn’t even there. The only sign of life the boy displayed was in his eyes. He never took his eyes off the young body on the floor. Looking into them, Joe saw the flaming glow of anger. At that moment, he felt sorrier for the boy he held than the tortured body on the floor. He knew the look in the child’s eyes. It was an anger that could never be quenched. That kind of emotion which would burn away every shred of decency in the child as he grew. In the end, it would eat him up and kill him. He carried the boy to the door and through the living room to the porch. Jake followed him to the porch and asked, “Where did the man Tammy saw go?”

Joe shrugged his shoulders that he didn’t know and walked off the porch. Carrying the boy, he walked from one house to the next, carefully checking the way. He took the boy to the Wagoneer and laid him on the seat.

Tammy came over, looking the worse for wear. She put her hand on the boy’s brow and he relaxed and fell into a deep sleep. Gail and Polly made room in the back of the Wagoneer for the sleeping boy. Gail got behind the wheel, Polly and Tommy got in the front seat beside her. Jake crawled into the back seat and fluffed a pillow. He was asleep before they reached the interstate. Tammy told Joe about the conversation she had with the man.

“Joe, I can’t explain it, but I felt sorry for the man. He said he knew everything he did, but couldn’t stop himself. He even told me he knew right from wrong. I got the impression he was in torment every time he tortured someone. It was as if two minds occupied his body. One is normal and decent. The other is as depraved as a mind can get. The second one takes over when he gets what he calls ‘a hunger’. As I understand it, the only way this ‘hunger’ can be satisfied is from the pain he inflicts on others.”

“How many more strange people are we going to run into? We know Tony, Ben, and Zeb are working under the influence of some power. Don’t forget Stalker. His situation wasn’t exactly normal.

“Now we come to you. Did you have any indication you could get into other people’s minds?”

“No, Joe. It doesn’t work that way. I can’t enter other people’s minds. In some way, I linked with his probe and used it to get into his mind. On my own, I can do none of these things. He knew I was there and showed me the way without my knowing it. Joe, I think he wanted me to see his two sides. His normal side is so very lonely. The other part of him could care less, because it’s in complete control. He told me our paths were interlinked and we’d see each other many times in the future. I wonder what he meant by that?”

“I don’t know. Did he mention how he would contact you?”

“All he said was I would know when he was near. He almost begged me to link with him when I felt his presence. All he wants to do is talk, Joe.”

“It could be dangerous for you. Promise me, you’ll tell me the moment you sense he’s nearby.”

“I will, Joe. You know, I can’t help feeling that he isn’t a threat to us. No matter how sick and demented he is, his normal half would stop the demented part from causing us harm. I wish Stalker was alive. He knew and could sense so many things. He would know if I should contact this man again,” she said in a sad whisper. She stared through the rear window at the wrapped body in the back of the truck, with the soft blue glow surrounding it.

“I miss him too, Tammy,” Joe said.

Tammy sat there, staring into the night. She reached out with her mind and felt the faint traces of Will’s wandering probe. Her stomach cramped and she knew she was about to start her period. She liked it better before she started all this woman stuff. Oh well, it was all a part of growing up. She thought about Josh and how brave he was, fighting to the end to save his brother. Enduring unspeakable pain to give them time to get there. She wondered if she would be as brave, if she were in the same situation. As the miles flew by, she slowly began to fall asleep. Soon, she was curled up on the seat, fast asleep.

Joe would occasionally look down at her and his face would have a softness about it that seemed out of place.

Chapter 23

Joe pulled into a roadside park and stopped beside a picnic table. Leaning back, he closed his eyes, letting the tension ease from his body.

“Are you all right, Joe?” Tammy asked.

“A little tired is all, Tammy. Some food and an hour’s rest will straighten me out,” Joe said, kneading the back of his neck.

Tammy got out of the pickup and went back to the Wagoneer. She led the small boy they had rescued to the picnic table and told him to stay there. She helped Gail and Polly set up the Coleman stove. As she helped prepare breakfast, she glanced at the boy every now and then. Jake walked to where Joe worked the kinks out of his tired body and watched for a few minutes.

“I tell you, Joe, it’s creepy the way the boy just sits and watches. He hasn’t said a word since he woke up. Polly tried to draw him out as we traveled and the only answers he gave was a nod of his head. I watched him in the rearview mirror, and if it wasn’t for the burning fire in his eyes, I wouldn’t know he was alive. The only one who can get a response out of him is Tammy. Has she told you anything about him?”

“She told me the boy would have to work things out in his own mind first. She also told me the child is destined to kill the man, or creature, who killed his brother, sometime in the future. She said the being she was in contact with told her this. I don’t pretend to understand it, Jake, but you can bet your last dollar, it’ll happen. To tell you the truth, I have a hard time understanding most of the things that have happened so far.”

Jake shook his head and sat down on a picnic table. He took off the cap he wore and ran his hands through his short hair. Small wrinkles of worry lined his eyes and the bright luster that used to be there was missing. Thin as a rail to begin with, the loss of twelve pounds over the last six months gave him an emaciated appearance. His clothes hung loosely on his body. He leaned back, stared at the bright blue morning sky and wondered, Why me?

He missed the structured workdays he used to have in the bureau. He regretted not having had the chance to become an investigator for the FBI. His thirteen years of service consisted mostly of guarding politicians and dignitaries. Never in those years did he have to draw his service revolver. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the job was boring. The other one percent occurred when the man or woman he guarded received a death threat or warning.

He wondered if fate played a hand in putting him on the plane taking Ben to Colorado. Since then, his life consisted of a running battle to stay alive. He gave up trying to make sense of the strange happenings that occurred along the way. He coped by living day-to-day and not thinking about the future.

At least, he did until he met Polly. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. In the past, he never let a woman close enough to want to share his life. His job came first and it left very little time for socializing. His flings had been few and far between. When he was a young man, he worried about his lack of sexual drive. The help of a good psychiatrist and thousands of dollars made him realize he didn’t have a problem.

He smiled as he remembered what his father said, “Hell, son, you could have gotten the same advice from me and it wouldn’t have cost you anything.” He proceeded to tell Jake that the males in their family were born with a very low sexual appetite. He apologized for not having this discussion with him sooner. Jake told him to forget about it. He knew his father had the same trouble discussing sex with his son most fathers had. He wished he knew whether his dad was alive or dead. Someday, he would go back to Atlanta and find out.

Until then, he preferred to think his father had moved to the small farm he owned outside the city. Gail interrupted his thoughts by placing a paper plate with two sandwiches on it next to him.

“Thanks,” he told her

“Jake, we’re almost to the town the people are planning to attack. Tammy and I will go ahead and make sure we aren’t running into a trap. You hang back until we radio for you to join us or come get us out of a bad situation,” Joe told him as he polished off the sandwich he held. Tammy sat next to the small boy at the picnic table. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. When he finished his sandwich, she said, “Lonnie, we will protect you and not let anything happen to you. Josh told me to be your friend and answer any questions you have. Is there anything you want to ask me?”

Lonnie turned to look her in the eye. All traces of childhood merriment were gone from his soft blue eyes. His body trembled as he tried to contain the emotions he felt. “Why did Josh have to die?”

he asked and dropped his head.

Tammy reached over and placed her hand in his. She could feel his body trembling from the pent-up emotions he was feeling. “I can’t answer that, Lonnie. All I can tell you is that your brother loved you very much. He wanted me to tell you to be brave and not worry about him, because he would be in heaven watching over you.”

Tammy felt Lonnie’s trembling increase. She reached over and drew the small boy into her arms. His sobs started low and increased in volume. He clung to her, like a drowning man would to a log. After a while, he pulled back and rubbed his eyes with his small fists. He looked so small and fragile as he sat there with red-rimmed eyes. He was small in stature for a boy of six. He was no more than three and a half feet tall and weighed about fifty pounds. His unruly blond hair stuck up in back, reminding Tammy of pictures she had seen of Dennis the Menace.

In a sad voice, Lonnie said, “I’ll try and be brave like Josh wants me to be; no matter how much it hurts me. I want to be just like him. When Mommy and Poppa died, Josh looked after me. At night, when he thought I was asleep, I could hear him crying. He would talk to Mommy and Poppa up in heaven, asking them what he should do. We were doing pretty good until the bad men came to the house where we lived. Josh kept telling me not to worry; everything would be okay. I knew he was afraid, so I tried to act brave when they let us see each other. Josh never hurt anyone. Why did they give us to that evil man?” his voice broke and he started crying again. Tammy saw the looks of concern on Gail’s and Polly’s faces as they listened to Lonnie.

Tammy knew Joe was eager to get on the road, so she pulled Lonnie up and led him to where the others sat. “Lonnie, I’m going with Joe. Gail and Polly will take care of you until I come back. I won’t be gone long.” She tried to free her hand from his grasp, but he hung on like a leech.

“Don’t leave me. Please, I’ll be good,” he sobbed.

Joe came over and lifted Lonnie into his arms. “Sure you can come with us, Lonnie. Now what’s this crying all about? What would your brother tell you if he was here?” Joe softly asked. Lonnie raised his tear-stained face and said, “Josh would tell me to quit crying and act like a grown-up. He used to tell me that all the time. I try, mister, but sometimes, I forget.” He lifted his face to the sky and said, “Josh, I’ll be a man like you kept telling me to be. I won’t let you down anymore.”

Joe had tears in his eyes as he carried Lonnie to the pickup. The rest of them wiped tears from their eyes as they packed to leave. Tommy came over and gave Tammy a hug. He didn’t say a word, but Tammy knew that he understood how she felt. Feeling sad, she walked to the pickup and sat down beside Lonnie. After fastening her seat belt, she felt Lonnie’s hand ease into hers. She gave his hand a squeeze and smiled at him.

Joe handed the mike for the CB to Tammy and said, “Keep in constant contact with Jake in case we need help.”

Joe drove in silence through the beautiful valleys, concentrating on the road ahead. Tammy talked quietly with Lonnie. Behind them, Jake and Polly talked, while Gail and Tommy slept in the rear of the Wagoneer.

“The longer I’m with you, Jake; the stranger things become. Do the surprises keep coming?”

“Believe it or not, in time, you get used to all the strange things happening to these white folks.”

“Jake, have you noticed there aren’t any black people in the towns we pass through?”

“Now that you mention it, I don’t remember seeing any. I took it for granted there weren’t that many blacks out here in the middle of the country. Thinking back, I can’t remember seeing any since this thing started. Damn, are we the only two blacks left? The thought makes my skin crawl.”

“It worries me. What if we are the only two alive and not crazy like the people we’re trying to avoid? Think about it. What happens to the black culture? How are young black children going to learn about their roots?”

Jake didn’t ask her the obvious question. If they were the only two blacks left, who were these children she referred to? He was smart enough to know that the two of them couldn’t sustain a whole race, no matter how many children they had. No; there were other blacks out there. There had to be.

“We’ll find other blacks, Polly. After all this is over, we’ll search for them,” he told her and patted her hand.

“God, I hope you’re right, Jake. Joe, Gail and the kids are all right. I can’t help but think that all the prejudices from before are out there. Now that society has fallen apart, I don’t believe the people left will care much about human rights. Right now, it’s a fight just to survive.” She shook her head sadly.

“Some things never change. We’re still in the minority. The way I see it, there are two forces of power in this country now. You have people like us, who the disease didn’t affect; then you have all these crazy individuals who were affected and are trying to kill us because we’re different. The crazies outnumber us ten to one, so we have to be very careful what we do or we’ll end up like the dinosaurs.

“It was a tough world out there before this happened, now, things are going to be a lot worse. I’m glad I wasn’t in Atlanta when things went crazy. From the radio reports we picked up, it was utter chaos in the big cities. The first thing that went was law and order. Christ, we heard reports of law officers committing a lot of the killings there. Before all the radio stations went off the air, we heard the big cities like New York, Washington, Chicago and the like had millions of dead.

“These crazies were piling them in huge mounds and burning the bodies to cut down on disease. One reporter said the smoke over New York from the burning bodies blocked the sun for days. If you think about it, we have a much better chance of staying alive out here, than we would in a big city.

“Can you imagine what Los Angeles must be like now? Everyone had their own turf before and were ruthless protecting it. If these crazy people are in control of the big cities, it must be a living hell for those like us, who can’t escape to the country. The mindset of gangs that controlled their turf was bad then. Now, since there’s no law enforcement to curb the slaughter, they must have gone on a rampage. As bad as white people were to us blacks, we still had rights under the law and all in all, the decent people did a fair job of protecting them. Now, everything is chucked out the window. I guess those days are gone forever. In today’s world, might is right.”

“Makes you wonder if humans will regress back to using clubs when they run out of bullets. I don’t see how things can get any worse,” Polly said with a sob in her voice.

“Somehow, I think things will get a lot worse than they are now. As long as Todd and the new President are fighting each other, we’re ignored. If they reach an agreement where President Donaldson gets all the land east of the Mississippi and Todd gets everything west of it, we’re in for real trouble.”

“What made you stay with Ben and his family after things went to hell?” Polly asked.

“My job. I know that sounds strange, but I was ordered to take Ben and his family to the hospital in Colorado. I tried calling the Bureau a couple times. Each time, some nut ranted and raved that it was my duty to hand Ben and the people with him over to Todd. That was one order I couldn’t carry out.

“You have to realize, my entire adult life was dedicated to law enforcement. Next year—I guess it would be this year now—I was going to be put on the drug team. I wanted that job bad. I spent many a night burning the mid-night oil and passed all the tests. My name was at the top of the list. The next opening to come up was mine. That’s all in the past now. I did get a call through to an agent who retired last year. He told me the crazy people shot everyone in the Atlanta Bureau who weren’t like them. He said the first thing they did in Washington was take over the FBI and the Justice Department. The crazy people had some of their technical individuals digging through the files both departments kept on the worst criminals in the country.

“The way he told it, this President Donaldson made up a list of these people. He had his trusted cronies contact those still alive and brought them into his inner circle. Most of the men were in prison, so they weren’t hard to find. Those he picked surprised me at the time, but now, his choices make sense. All of them are brutal, cold-blooded killers with connections to the underworld. Who better to put in charge of his outlying offices? These men will do his bidding and eliminate any problems. Half a dozen of the most vicious ones he kept as bodyguards.

“Jamie, that’s the retired agent’s name, said he was leaving the next day for parts unknown. Apparently, these people had a list of all retired agents and were systematically eliminating them. His advice to me was to stay out west, to go east would be committing suicide. After learning I didn’t have a job anymore, I stuck with Ben. Along the way, we met Tony, Bill, Joe, Tammy and Stalker.”

He chuckled, “I remember the first time I saw Stalker. Joe and Bill sneaked up on the camp while Ben and Jane were sleeping. I was on guard duty, and I heard a commotion in the camp. Quietly, I went back there and saw Joe with a knife at Ben’s throat. Jane had her .45 centered on Joe’s crotch, while Bill had the barrel of his rifle pressed against Jane’s head. I came up behind Bill and pressed my

.38 against his head. There we stood, a hairsbreadth from blowing each others’ brains out. Through all of this, Ben slept, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Finally, Joe suggested we all lower our weapons before one of us made a mistake. We had just lowered our weapons when I felt something nudge my side. Thinking it was a limb on a tree, I put my hand back to brush it out of the way. The hair stood up on my head when I felt a mouth with needle-sharp teeth clamp down on my hand.

“Slowly, I turned and saw a face straight out of hell. My small hand looked like a matchstick in his mouth. Two glowing yellow eyes stared up at me. Right then and there, I knew I was dead. Before I could bring my gun around, the wolf would tear my arm off and be at my throat. Joe said something and Stalker released my hand. I swear the damn wolf was laughing at my shock as he sat there watching me. After that, every once in a while, Stalker came over and clamped down on my hand, then moved away and watched me.

“To this day, I believe Stalker was acting out his own joke. I got the impression he was amused every time he did it. In time, I got to really like Stalker and the rest of them. At that point, it was too dangerous to be alone, so I stuck with them. In a way, they’re my family now and I’m sure they feel the same way about me. We’ve moved beyond the old color thing, now we’re just people who watch out for each other.”

“Funny, it took all this death and dying to make people realize how petty all the world’s squabbling was. I wish I’d met you sooner, it would have saved a lot of wear and tear on this body; not to mention, my nerves. Come to think of it, you’re my black knight in shining armor.” Polly then laughed.

Jake blushed as much as a black man can and kept his eyes on the back of Joe’s truck in the distance. Polly unsettled him with the way she made stark statements toward him. He wasn’t used to dealing with females on a personal basis.

* * * *

In the back of the Wagoneer, Gail listened to their soft talk as she pretended to be asleep. Everything they said was the truth. Some of the things they talked about shocked her. She wasn’t a worldly woman, having never been more than two hundred miles from home. Things that happened around the country and the world were so distant from the way she conceived them to be, she disregarded most of it as false.

Her main focus in life was to be a good mother and wife. Things changed after her husband died in a car accident. Raising a small child by herself wasn’t any picnic.

At first, she tried to get a job in the small town she lived in. The only job she found that she was qualified for was waiting tables in the only diner in town. Having dropped out of high school in the eleventh grade to care for her mother left her ill-equipped to land a good job in the labor market. Things went along fine for a year. With her salary and tips, she made enough to get by and even managed to save a little on the side. In the second year on her own, the local mining company, the biggest employer locally, shut down. Soon after that, some of the local merchants began to close their shops because the economy turned sharply down. Each week after the mine closed, she would watch a couple U-Hauls leave town as families moved away to find jobs.

The restaurant began to lose customers and it got to the point where the rush hour consisted of only a few customers. Mr. Greken, the owner, kept her on much longer than he had to. It finally came to the point where he either had to close the restaurant, or declare bankruptcy. It surprised her how rapidly the town went downhill after the mine closed.

By the time she made her mind up to go stay with her aunt and uncle, only three of the dozen businesses were still open. There were more empty houses around town than occupied ones. Her aunt and uncle welcomed her with open arms.

Not rich, they did own a small farm a few miles from town. They grew most of their food in a garden plot. Gail pitched in to help them, spending most of her time in the garden, seeing to the plants. Tommy thrived and sprouted like a bean. The work was hard, but satisfying. Her aunt Mattie let none of the vegetables they grew go to waste. What they couldn’t sell to the local market, she put up in mason jars to be eaten that winter.

Occasionally, one of the local men would come to call on her. As gently as she could, she turned down all offers of dates. Eventually, word filtered down to her that all the eligible men were calling her a spinster and the offer of dates gradually came to a stop. Her aunt said it wasn’t good for a healthy, young woman to be by herself all the time. She pestered Gail, until Gail finally relented and went to a drive-in movie with the son of a man who owned the farm next to theirs. Things were fine, at first, until she noticed the man drinking from a whiskey bottle hidden under the seat. In the middle of the second movie, he scooted over next to her and tried to kiss her. Politely, she told him she wasn’t ready for that yet. He then became insistent and began to maul her. She smelled the whiskey on his breath every time his head came near her. When he tried to get his hand up under her blouse, she hit him in the head and knocked him to the other side of the seat. She opened the car door and got out. Looking around, she spotted the car of an older couple who were friends of her aunt and uncle.

Going to their car, she explained her situation and asked if they would drive her home. The couple was sympathetic and did. After that episode, her aunt never brought up the subject of her going out again.

A new company bought the mine a year later and started hiring people. Gail applied for and got the job as timekeeper for the new owners. The money was good, so she decided to move back to town. She found a small, four-room house on the edge of town.

Over the next six months, she was able to save enough to buy a used car. Everything seemed to be going right for her. Then last spring, the killings started. The first week, a family was burned to death in their house. The sheriff took into custody a well-known farmer from the surrounding area. The man was totally out of his mind. He stood in the courtroom before the judge, and with spittle flying from his mouth, shouted they were all going to die. The incident was treated as a once in a lifetime thing for a small community like theirs.

The next week, a prominent businessman marched into the courthouse and shot the sheriff four times before the deputies killed him. Townspeople still didn’t realize something was terribly wrong. They explained the killing of the sheriff as a jealous grudge. Years ago the lawman had won the hand of the woman the businessman wanted. It was sad, but things like that did happen. The next incident happened at the end of the week. One of the cooks in the school cafeteria went crazy during the lunch hour. Witnesses say she had acted strangely all morning. Around twelve thirty, the lunchroom roared with the conversations and antics of the children as they ate. The cook, a grossly overweight woman in her forties, grabbed a large meat cleaver.

One of the teachers supervising the lunchroom that day said the cook turned and swung the cleaver at the neck of the woman working beside her. The smaller cook, who weighed only a hundred pounds, didn’t know what hit her. The razor-sharp cleaver cleanly severed her head from her body. Blood spurted into the air and fell into the large kettle of mashed potatoes. The woman’s headless body took half a dozen steps, then crumpled to the floor. While the adults stared in disbelief, the cook rounded the serving counter. She started slashing the children at the nearest table. By the time the adults came to their senses, ten children lay dead in pools of blood. Two male teachers jumped the woman and wrestled the cleaver away. In a time span of three minutes, ten children lay dead and another dozen were seriously injured.

Angry citizens demanded to know what was happening in their town. After that episode, Gail kept Tommy close by her side and took him to work with her. One day, Tommy stayed home sick and while she was in the bathroom at work, she heard several men talking in her office. The men must have thought she wasn’t in the building. As she started to open the door, she heard one of the men ask for a pen to write down the names of the people who were to be killed.

Horrified, she listened as the men listed people she had come to know and like. She almost fainted when one of them opened the door to the bathroom and walked to the commode. She pressed herself against the wall behind the door and listened as he urinated. Someone in the next room asked the man a question. He told them to wait until he washed his hands and he would be out. The sink and rack of paper towels were against the wall Gail was leaning against. She watched the man come within sight. Please, oh please, don’t look this way, she prayed. The man was George Herns, foreman of the evening shift. He had asked her out several times in recent months. She had liked the easy way he bantered back and forth with her. A few times, she almost said yes to his proposals for dinner and a night on the town. Now, here he was, cold-bloodedly talking about killing many of his friends and neighbors.

She closed her eyes, expecting him to grab her any second. All he had to do was turn his head, and he couldn’t miss seeing her behind the door. She heard him shut off the water in the sink and tear paper from the roll mounted on the wall. She opened her eyes and stared at the wastebasket sitting at her feet. George wiped his hands on the paper towels. Oh god, he would see her when he put the used towels in the wastebasket. He started to turn her way, when the lid on the commode fell. It sounded like a shot and she jumped bumping the door, which caused it to swing back a few inches exposing her even more.

George quickly turned the other way and swore, as startled by the sound as she was. She watched him shrug his shoulders and turn toward the door. She could only see half of him now. Something soft caromed off the wall and hit her in the face. It took everything she had not to cry out. Looking down, she saw the wet paper towels George had used to dry his hands laying at her feet. Her heart jumped again as the door pulled away from her. Her legs were shaking so badly, she had trouble standing. She knew she was going to die in the next few minutes and let out a long, silent breath. It took her a moment to realize that George had pulled the door almost closed when he left the bathroom. She slid down the wall and drew her knees up under her chin. Silent sobs escaped her as she sat in the corner and listened to the men talk about their plan to kill a lot of innocent people. Time seemed to stand still. As they filed out of her office, she looked at her watch, shocked to see that only fifteen minutes had passed. What frightened her the most was that both her name and Tommy’s had been added near the bottom of the list. Shaking like a leaf in a windstorm, she got up and went to the sink, where she splashed water on her face. The face in the mirror staring back at her didn’t look like her own. It was deathly white. The eyes were drawn and pinched. The lips quivered, as if they wanted to cry out at any moment.

She heard her name called from the door of her office. At the sound of the voice, she gripped the sink hard enough to cause her hands to go white, and it was the only thing holding her up. If she let go, she would fall to the floor a sobbing heap. The voice called her name again, but this time, it came from outside the partially open bathroom door.

It was the voice of her boss. She remembered the men had added his name to the list. She heard the door being pushed open behind her. She met his eyes in the mirror and saw concern on his face. He asked her if she was alright. Without thinking, she told him she suddenly felt ill and needed to go home.

Concern written all over his face, he told her to take the rest of the day off and to stay home until she felt better. She thanked him and got her coat and purse. Pausing a moment, she wondered if she should tell him the danger he was in. No, it would only delay her from getting home to Tommy. After all, he probably wouldn’t believe her. She found it hard to believe herself. She would call him after she got home. She thanked him again as she pulled on her coat. On wobbly legs, she walked out to her car.

She felt a hand touch her shoulder as she put the key in the door lock. Sagging against the door, she would have fallen to the ground, except a pair of hands grabbed her by the arms and held her up. Stark terror shot through her as she heard George ask if she was okay. Struggling, it took all her will power to turn and give him a wan smile. She told him she was ill and on her way home to go to bed. She assured him she would be all right with a good night’s sleep.

With a puzzled look on his face, he opened the car door for her. Getting inside, she fumbled the key as she tried to insert it into the ignition. Finally managing to start the car, she backed out and drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw George staring after her with the same puzzled look on his face. Her only thought was that somehow, he knew she was aware of their plans. Drawing in a deep breath, she drove home. On the way, she composed herself and began to think clearly. If George suspected she knew of their plan, her and Tommy’s name would go from the bottom of the list to the top. Her only thought was of getting them both away from town, out to her aunt and uncle’s farm. She could tell them what she overheard and ask their advice. Rushing inside her house, she went to Tommy’s room and shook him awake. She told him to hurry and get dressed. Going to the kitchen, she took down the old cookie jar and removed the money she kept there for odds and ends. Tommy hopped into the kitchen, as he tried to put on his tennis shoe. He asked her what was wrong. She told him she would explain later, as she got his heavy coat from the closet and told him to put it on.

As she was about to open the door and go out to her car, she saw George pull up to the curb. Grabbing Tommy’s hand, she ran for the backdoor. Looking through the curtain on the door, she saw a car pull into the alley behind her house, containing at least four men. A knock sounded at the front door. Telling Tommy to be quiet, she dragged him into the bedroom. Going to the closet, she reached up and pulled down the ladder that led to a small attic.

Pushing Tommy up the stairs, she positioned the door so it was half open. Ripping clothes from the rack, she threw them around the room to make it appear like she had left in a hurry. Climbing the ladder, she reached down and grabbed the rope. She pulled it up and locked it in place. Boards had been placed on the cross beams of the roof trusses to form a loose floor. The compact space measured twenty feet by ten feet. At the center of the house, the roof trusses sloped up, giving them a little over four feet of standing space.

Gail motioned for Tommy to sit down beside her. Half an inch of dust coated every flat surface. The heat was stifling. Below them, they heard the sound of breaking glass from the kitchen. She heard the sounds of feet go from the kitchen to the living room. A muffled conversation took place there, then the men moved to the bedroom. A loud voice started cursing, then yelled for the men to find Gail and her son.

A chill ran down her back when she heard the man say he wanted them both dead before the sun set. The two of them sat there sweating as men went through the closets. She started as the folding ladder shook on the small lock that held it in place.

Crawling to the trapdoor, she braced her foot against the locking bar to hold it shut. The man pulling on the rope called for someone to help him pull down the ladder. The two of them pulled down on the rope, causing the bolt to slide half out of its holder. Bracing her back against a roof brace, Gail placed her other foot against the one holding the bolt and shoved. The rough edge of the bolt bit into her tennis shoe sending bolts of pain up her leg. The men continued to pull on the rope. One of them figured the ladder hadn’t been taken down in years and was probably rusted shut. Biting her lip in pain, she continued to push against the bolt. Tears ran down her cheeks with the pain she suffered. At last, she heard the man telling the rest of them that no one could have gotten into the attic. They would be better off by searching for her trying to get out of town. Hearing the men leave, she eased her pressure on the bolt. A quiet sob escaped her as the pain relented to a throbbing ache.

Tommy whispered that they should leave before the men came back. She motioned for him to remain silent. Brushing dust from the frame holding the ladder up, she placed her ear against the wood and listened for twenty minutes and didn’t hear a sound. Still, she waited, sitting in her sweat-drenched dress.

Two hours after the men left, she heard a soft noise below her. Placing her ear against the frame, she heard two men talking. Tension eased from her body when she heard George say he was through wasting time. There was no way she could still be in the house. After the front door closed, she listened until a car engine started out on the street. Sliding the bolt on the ladder, she carefully lowered it. Shaking Tommy’s foot, she whis-pered for him to follow her.

At the bottom of the ladder, she peered through the open closet door into the bedroom. The only light came from the window across from the closet. She saw that it was almost dark. The men had trashed her nice tidy house. In the kitchen, she picked the pieces of an old crock pot off the floor and laid them on the counter. Her mother had given it to her on her wedding day, just as it had been handed down to her. Of all her possessions in the house, the crock pot was the most precious. A small part of her died on seeing the pieces. Someday, she planned on having a daughter. Gail’s hope had been to pass the crock pot to her on her wedding day. Now that dream lay in pieces on the counter, like so many of her other dreams. Clutching one of the handles from the crock pot to her chest, tears streaming from her chin, she walked into the living room. The cheap living room furniture lay shredded around the room. The stuffing from the couch and chair lay in separate piles. The end tables lay near the door with their legs broken off. Tommy hugged her in silence as they surveyed the mess.

Wiping away the tears, she went and looked out the window in the door. Long, dark shadows covered many of the houses on the street. Settling down beside the door, she waited for full dark. Two hours later, she snuck out of the house and down the block, where she stole a car and drove out of town. A short distance out of town, she stopped the car near the top of a hill. Walking to the top, she saw a police roadblock at the intersection near the bottom of the hill. In the headlights from stopped traffic, she saw George’s car next to one of the cruisers. Going back to the car, she backed down the hill and drove onto a rutted dirt road. A quarter of a mile later, she backed the car into the brush and settled down for the night. Tommy curled up in the backseat and was soon asleep. She lay in the front seat and fidgeted until sleep overtook her. Waking the next morning stiff and cramped from her awkward sleeping position, she crawled out of the car. She woke Tommy and told him to stay inside the car. She walked through the woods to the top of the hill and looked down at the intersection. The roadblock was gone, which brought a sigh of relief from her.

When she got to her aunt’s farm, she found the woman dead in the kitchen and her uncle barely alive in the front yard. With his last breath, her uncle told her to load his old pickup with what she needed and drive to the cabin he owned in the mountains.

She had been at the cabin for two weeks when Joe and his group showed up during a snowstorm. She smiled, remembering her meeting with Joe. Her first thought was that they had come to kill her and Tommy. In desperation, she had knocked Jake out and kicked Joe so hard in the crotch, it was two hours before he was able to stand.

She thanked her lucky stars they had come along. At first, she was apprehensive about the members of the group. Ben, with his guardian, and Tony, with the power to make other people not see her, seemed a little weird to her. As they traveled, she came to realize these were plain, ordinary people. As sleep overtook her, she heard Jake chuckle at something Polly had said.

Chapter 24

Todd shouted in fury at the man lying on the ground beside him. “You said President Donaldson withdrew the planes from this area!”

Donald Riker ducked his head as another jet flew across the hill at tree-top level and dipped down into the valley. His big, beefy body shook with the rumbling of the bombs dropped in the valley below. “I swear to god, Todd. As of yesterday, his planes were well away from here.”

Todd crawled up the bank to an outcropping of rock. Standing, he looked down into the valley. His forces had marched down the road an hour ago. The morning started off beautifully. There were less complaints and grumbling from his men than usual. They were in a good mood as they ate their cold rations for breakfast.

The leader of his column started out as the sun popped above the horizon. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It promised to be a warm spring day and he looked forward to riding in the sunshine. The past few nights had been cold as his men moved from area to area under the cover of darkness. This was the first time they would march during the day and his men looked forward to the sunshine. Their mood continued to improve as they marched down into the valley and started across it. As the head of the troop carriers approached the hill leading from the valley, disaster struck. Todd sat in the passenger seat of the all-wheel drive Suburban he used as his mobile command post. The first hint of trouble came when the men he left to guard his rear called in and tried to tell him something. All he could hear was a tremendous roaring noise.

Moments later, a jet streaked across the hill behind him, less than a hundred feet from the ground. His driver wheeled the Suburban off the road and into the trees. Todd got out and watched as the jet dipped down, released two objects, and went vertical. Flames shot out the back of the plane as the pilot kicked in the afterburners. Near the front of Todd’s line, two huge explosions erupted. Smoke rolled into the air from burning vehicles.

Staring dumbfounded at the sight, Todd heard another ear-piercing shriek as another jet came over the hill. In all, twelve jets released their bombs. He busied himself trying to get reports of the damage as the last jet flew out of the valley. The air waves were jammed by people asking for help and others wanting to know what was happening. All he could do was sit, listen, and try to piece together how bad things were. He ordered his driver to head back the way they came, telling him to remain within the trees as much as possible.

He had his driver pull off the road halfway up the ridge. Taking his binoculars, he climbed on a large boulder and looked down into the valley.

The first twenty trucks blazed, sending streamers of smoke high into the air. He saw bodies strung out for a hundred yards on either side of the blazing vehicles. The next thirty stood in the middle of the road untouched. Behind them, a line of cars and pickups, used to transport most of his men, burned or were motionless. Very few of the bodies lying on the ground showed any signs of movement. Those who did crawled toward the trees.

In stunned disbelief, Todd saw that half of his five thousand man force was dead. The worst part was the bombs had destroyed almost every food and ammunition truck. There was no use going on now. Without food and ammunition, it would be suicide to attack President Donaldson’s troops. He was about to order his men to retreat, when the jets appeared again. This time, his people had enough sense to pull into the trees out of sight. Still, he lost even more men and equipment. That was when Donald Riker scrambled up to where he stood. Riker was in charge of the men who controlled this part of the state. Todd had met with him the day before and was told that all the planes had been removed from the area. That was why he decided to travel during the day instead of at night. Now, his forces lay in shambles in the valley below.

Jumping off the rock, he pointed his gun at Donald’s head and said, “I don’t know why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand. You have five seconds to give me a reason.” Todd pulled back the hammer on the pistol.

Sweat running down his face, Donald stared into the bore of Todd’s .45. “I swear, Todd. I was told the planes would come no farther than the Ohio border. In the last month, they weren’t used on us in any of the raids we carried out. Someone sold us both down the river. Hell, I didn’t know you were near here until last night. Do you think I would willingly walk into that inferno down there?” He pointed to where fires raged all over the valley.

Todd reached up and gently lowered the hammer. “No, I guess not; but this sure as hell puts a crimp in my plans. Go down and salvage as much equipment as you can. Move the troops to the next valley back and keep them under cover. Tonight, we’ll head home. Kill any of the wounded who won’t make it. Make sure the men are out of this area before you kill them. I’ll go to that small town we passed ten miles back. If you need me, that’s where I will be.” Todd holstered the .45 and walked to his command car.

His driver asked, “Is it very bad, boss?”

“Worse than you can imagine, Randy,” he answered, laying his head back against the seat. That’s all he needed now was a head-splitting headache. “Take me to the small berg we passed through ten miles back.” Pressing fingers to his temple, he thought about Donald’s last statement. The jets coming in when he was less than a hundred miles from the target was too much of a coincidence. The strike had set him back at least a year. It would take at least that long to train enough men; let alone, to get them there. In the meantime, he knew President Donaldson would shore up his western front. How had Donaldson’s commanders found out he was moving a large force into the area? He believed Donald when he said it wasn’t him or any of his people. Whoever set the strike up had to have advance warning as to the time they would enter the valley.

Donald and his people didn’t even know Todd and his forces were in the area until last night. The way the jets attacked told him they knew in advance where his forces would be. He hated to admit it, but it looked like he had a spy among his people. The decision to march during the day wasn’t made until after midnight. Seven hours later, the attack occurred. Not enough time to put together an attack squadron with the lack of support forces President Donaldson had. No, the planes were at a staging area waiting for the precise location of the force to be attacked. Someone had sent a message to the air force commander telling him exactly where Todd’s people would be at seven in the morning.

He leaned forward as they drove into the small town. Not many places to house his men while he decided where to send them. He had Randy park in front of a small, sturdy building. Going to the door, he raised his foot and kicked in the door. Expecting to see the flimsy looking door fly open, he was surprised and grunted in pain.

It felt like he had broken his foot. Hopping on one foot, he eyed the door. It hadn’t budged an inch. Gingerly putting his weight on his throbbing foot, he limped up to the door. Inspecting it, he found it only looked flimsy from the thin plastic covering on the outside. Reaching down, he twisted the lever-like handle and pushed. It opened on well-oiled hinges. He now knew why his foot hurt so badly. The door was at least six inches thick and made of bonded steel.

He stood in the lobby of a bank. To the left, three teller cages ran in front of a vault. Two doors stood open on the right side of the room. Going to the first one, he saw that it was an office. The next door opened to another office. A small amount of money lay on the floor in front of the teller cages. Leaning across the counter, he looked into the half open vault. Money and what he took to be safety deposit boxes lay scattered over the floor.

Walking to the steel door, he told Randy to bring his things into the bank.

Chapter 25

“Old one, will you quit talking to yourself? It is beginning to annoy me,” Zeb heard Org say in his mind.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Org, I am not talking to myself. There’s a real live girl sitting on the back of this vehicle.” Zeb moved the fingers of his right hand.

“That is another thing annoying me. Why have you all of the sudden started twitching your fingers and hands; is it some sort of human affliction?”

“No, Org, it’s called sign language. By making various signs and gestures with my fingers and hands, I’m able to talk to Brianna. She’s teaching me sign language.”

“Old one, I believe the strain of the past few months has caused the parts of your brain I don’t control to lose their sense of balance. There is no woman and the idea of talking with your hands is preposterous. If getting the human I am after wasn’t so important, I would stop and let you rest for a few months in the hope you would recover.”

Zeb watched Brianna’s fingers move rapidly. He understood only a few of the words. “Did you ask if I just talked to the dog?”

Brianna nodded her head yes.

“Org is getting a little put out with my talking to what appears to be thin air. I believe he thinks I’m becoming unbalanced. How can you tell I’m talking to him? We don’t speak words with our mouths, but with our minds.”

Brianna wrote swiftly on the pad she always carried,

You get this blank look on your face.

Zeb nodded that he understood and glanced up at the clear blue sky. He felt much better now that he had someone to talk to. Before leaving the small town, he strapped a small seat to the back of the dune buggy on top of a duffle bag stuffed with clothes. He told Org he wanted to take the clothes with him; after all, they were free. When Org asked him who he was talking to that morning as they prepared to leave, Zeb told him the truth. Because Org couldn’t see or sense Brianna, she didn’t exist as far as he was concerned. Zeb even let Org see her through his own mind, but he just thought she was a mental picture Zeb thought about, without substance or being. Zeb felt the concern Org had about this new turn of events.

Driving under a sign with Casper on it, he slowed down. “Are you sure we have to stop here?” he asked.

“Yes, old one, I want to check on the power I felt here yesterday. The source is a lot less powerful today. It seems to be moving away. Perhaps we can find a clue to its source in the town.” Zeb got the impression Org was disappointed the power source was no longer in the town.

He turned down the exit ramp that would take them into the business district. The closer they got to the center of town, the more dogs they began to see. During the night, Org had sent them ahead to enter the town. They were well-rested and looked hungry. Although it was early, a few people came to their doors as the dune buggy approached. Zeb felt the vehicle lurch at the same time he heard a rifle crack. A man stood on the left at the mouth of an alley. He held a smoking rifle in his hands and turned at a sound behind him.

At the same time, three big dogs attacked him, which caused him to stagger into the street. Zeb stopped the dune buggy and watched as one of the animals sank its teeth into the man’s leg. Screaming in pain, he fell to the ground. A grey and white mongrel darted in, locking its teeth on his neck. The man tried to hit the animal with the butt of the rifle. The third dog clamped down on the arm holding the rifle, causing the fingers to lose their grip. Helpless, their victim tried to pull the canine loose from his throat. Beating on its head with his hand, the man finally managed to wrench it away with a tearing sound. Blood spurted from his neck into the street. The other two animals loosened their hold on their future meal and scampered a few feet away. As the man frantically tried to stop the flow of blood with his hands, the rest of the canines watched with a look of anticipation on their faces. Falling to his knees, the man pitched forward and feebly kicked his legs. As his kicks ceased, dogs appeared from everywhere. A mad rush ensued to the body, where they tore at it. There were so many canines, quite a few of them began to fight with each other over strips of flesh torn from the corpse. Zeb wished he had driven on. Now the street was so crowded with dogs, he couldn’t go forward. At the back of the pack, two animals fought over a hand. One of them crunched down on fingers like they were plump sausages. Behind him, he heard Brianna throwing up. He became a little nauseous when a dog ran by, trailing a five-foot section of gut. He had seen it happen before and wished he could get out of there. The half-starved animals were in a feeding frenzy. Some of the dogs began to break away from the main group and crash through windows. Soon, up and down the street, screams of terror sounded and were cut short.

“Let us continue, old one. My creatures will spend the day gorging themselves. Drive on down this street; the aftereffects of this power lingers a few streets over.”

Zeb wound his way down the street, turning where Org indi-cat-ed, until they were at a tree-lined road. The houses, al-though nice, were a little on the rundown side. Org had Zeb drive to the last house on the dead-end street and park.

Org scampered out of the dune buggy and up the steps of the house. “Come on, old one, open this door for me.”

Zeb opened the door and stepped into the house. He followed Org through the small living room into the kitchen. Org nosed around a door leading from the kitchen. Zeb stepped over and opened it. Org darted into the room, Zeb close behind him.

The room was a regular torture chamber. Near the back of it under a pair of manacles used to chain a person to the wall, lay the body of a small boy. In the center of the room sat a table with all kinds of wicked-looking instruments.

Zeb walked over and bent down beside the body. Lash marks criss-crossed the small frame. Lifting the small, stiff hand, he saw the fingernails had been pulled out. Looking down, he saw the toenails were also missing. The boy’s ears had been cut off even with his head. Something extremely hot was placed against the remaining holes; cauterizing the wounds so the boy wouldn’t bleed to death.

Rolling the body over, he gasped and held his mouth to keep from throwing up. The boy’s penis and testes were gone and the area of his crotch looked like a steak that had been burnt to a crisp. Where the child’s nipples had once been, it looked like someone had used a corkscrew, leaving two holes in the body. They were cauterized. He pulled a cloth over the body and walked out of the room.

Brianna stood on the porch with a questioning look on her face. He pointed to the dune buggy and said, “Go,” in a harsh voice he didn’t recognize as his own. Without a gesture or sign, she walked to the buggy and took a seat.

Zeb went to a storage shed behind the house. He found a five gallon plastic container of kerosene. Carrying it into the house, he walked to the torture chamber and started splashing kerosene on the floor and walls.

“What are you doing, old one?” Org asked, scampering around the room, agitated by the rage he felt in Zeb’s mind.

In a voice seething with fury, Zeb said, “Org, unless you want to die and kill us both, I suggest you get out of this house of inhuman degradation.” He continued splashing the kerosene in the kitchen and living room. On the porch, he took a rag from his pocket and drenched it with liquid. Stuffing the rag into the neck of the container, he pulled a lighter from his pocket. He held the flame under the rag until it burst into flame. Picking up the container, he threw it into the living room, which also burst into flame. He stayed on the porch until the heat became so intense, his jacket began to smolder. Org sat next to the wheel of the dune buggy. “Old one, you are becoming more peculiar every day. Was there a reason to burn the dwelling, or was it a spur of the moment thing this time?”

“Org, it’s no secret that I hate you for what you’ve done to me. The person who used that house makes you seem like the Pope in comparison. You are cruel and heartless, but never have you tortured for the love of it. You may order your dogs to kill people, but you never allow them to play with their victims. If this person is the source of the power you felt, I can’t wait to meet him and tear his soulless head off and shit down his neck.” Zeb was so mad, he was panting and walking back and forth.

“I would like to watch that, old one, but I am afraid this person is much too powerful for you. Perhaps he is even more powerful than I am. Come, we have no time for sentiment. Joe is getting further away as we stand here.”

He jumped up to the seat where Brianna sat. With a yelp, he hit the ground. Brianna quickly left the seat for the one on the back of the dune buggy. Org jumped back into the seat and sniffed around pawing the air.

Hiding his grin, Zeb asked, “What’s wrong, Org? Are you starting to see my invisible friend?”

“Funny, human, funny, but I could swear there was someone in the seat a moment ago.”

Zeb turned to see Brianna clutching her sides in silent laughter. She pointed at Org and tried to sit up. Watching her, Zeb began to chuckle; then he burst out laughing, beating his hands against the steering wheel. Tears of rage and joy streamed down his cheeks. Unable to stay upright, he fell out of the dune buggy to the ground. Rolling into a fetal position, he tried to stop laughing, but couldn’t. It was as if the laughter drained every hurt and degradation he’d suffered over the past months from his body. He looked up to see Org standing on his seat, looking down at him and Brianna peering over the side with concern on her face.

This sight started another spasm of laughter, this one lasted five minutes. Wiping his eyes, he grabbed the edge of the buggy and pulled himself up. Sitting in the seat, he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Although he hated being under Org’s control; to a certain extent, he knew others had it a hell of a lot worse than he did. No longer would he feel sorry for himself. Now he would just try harder to take control of his life and destiny. Turning to Org, he said, “Thanks.”

“For what, old one? Why could I not have chosen a human who did not have a damaged brain?” Zeb heard him mumble.

Zeb started the dune buggy and turned back down the street. As they left the city, he turned and saw billowing, black smoke coming from the area they just left. He drew in a deep breath, relishing the crisp, clean air. Brianna put her hand on his shoulder and he looked at her. Her blue eyes told him she under-stood and was there if he needed her.

Chapter 26

Joe’s mind was on other things as he drove around the curve and saw the truck parked across the road. Stomping on the brakes, he twisted the wheel, which caused the rear of his vehicle to slide around. He was about to step on the gas, when a large truck blocked the road behind him. In the woods on both sides of the road, men pointed rifles at his vehicle.

“I don’t feel any wrongness about them, Joe. I sense danger, but it’s in the other direction,”

Tammy said.

Joe placed his hands on top of the steering wheel in plain sight. In the rearview mirror, he saw a man talking on a walkie-talkie. He had expected something like this, but it still took him by surprise. These people were good. The person in charge knew what he was doing. On each side of the road, one person stepped out of the woods and walked toward where he sat. He admired the way they stayed out of the line of fire of the other people in the woods. Two others did the same in back of his truck. They approached close enough to see that he didn’t have anything hidden in the bed, then stopped. Joe waved to those in front, hoping to ease the tension in the air. Neither of them blinked, but continued to aim their rifles at his head. Sticking his head out the window, but keeping his hands in sight, he said, “Uh, people, I have two children in here, so please don’t do anything rash.”

Tammy put on her best little girl smile and waved at the men. One of them smiled and nodded at her. If he could have seen the cocked .38 hidden below the dash in her other hand, his smile would have disappeared. Lonnie had taken the gator knife out of its sheath on Joe’s leg. He put the tip down in his tennis shoe and pulled his pants leg down to hide it. They may be children, but they were learning how to survive and Joe was proud of them.

The man with the walkie-talkie walked up to the rear of the truck and stopped. “Mister, do exactly what I tell you and no one will get hurt. Reach outside and open the door with one hand, while keeping the other where we can see it. Step out and put your hands on top of your head.”

Joe did as he was told, stepping away from the truck with his hands on top of his head. The man walked up behind him and patted him down for weapons. The .45 was lifted from the holster at his side.

“Okay, friend, walk back to the truck I came from while I check out your kids.” The man nudged him with the barrel of his rifle and Joe walked to the truck where two men handcuffed his hands behind his back. At Joe’s vehicle, the man ordered Tammy to open her door and get out with her hands over her head.

Tammy got out of the truck with her little-girl smile on her face. When the man tried to pat her down, she kicked him in the shin with her foot. Startled, the man dropped his rifle and shouted an oath while hopping on one foot.

Joe held his breath as Tammy reached down and picked up the rifle and gave it to the man. He almost laughed when Tammy said, “If you want to feel me up, you dirty old man, I’ll give you more than you counted on.” She stared defiantly at him. The men around Joe laughed and some of the tension went out of the air.

The man Tammy kicked turned red and stared at her dumbfounded. Twice, he tried to say something, but the words came out garbled. Finally, he pointed to Joe and shoved her toward him. Next, the man ordered Lonnie out of the truck and around to where he stood. Lonnie walked around the truck, sobbing with each step. He stopped in front of the man who tried to calm him. Lonnie grabbed his stomach and bent over. In the blink of an eye, they saw the man’s face go chalk-white and he stood ramrod straight.

“Give me the word, Mr. Joe, and he’ll lose everything he holds dear,” Lonnie said. In his hand, he held the big gator knife pressed into the man’s groin.

“For God’s sake, mister, please have him take the knife away!” shouted the man as he stood on his tiptoes to get away from the tip of the knife.

“Lonnie, draw back the knife and come over here,” Joe said.

Lonnie lowered the knife, took the man’s hand and pulled him, in his state of shock, over to where Joe and Tammy stood.

“Jesus Christ, mister, what kind of kids are you raising?” the man asked. He really lost it when Tammy brought a cocked .38 from under her dress and aimed it at his forehead.

“Take the cuffs off Joe, or as sure as the sun comes up in the morning, you’ll have a third eye in the middle of your head,” she told the man in a low, deadly voice.

The men around them stepped back and raised their rifles, uncertain of what they should do.

“Easy, Tammy,” Joe softly said. “Lower and uncock the gun before someone gets hurt.”

Tammy hesitated for a few seconds, and then she pointed the gun to the side. She reached up and drew the hammer back, then lowered it. She turned the gun around and handed it to the white-faced man. He took it and in a weak voice said, “Take the cuffs off him. God, I need a drink.” On wobbly legs, he staggered to the cab of his truck and opened the door. Reaching under the seat, he drew out a bottle of whiskey. Taking off the cap, he upended the bottle and gulped down a quarter of its contents. He grunted, his face turned red and he bent over and threw up on the grass. Wiping his mouth with a handkerchief, he turned to them.

“Who the hell are you and these young demons?”

Joe gave them his name and told them about how they came to be there. Quickly, he told them about Jake and the Wagoneer so they would be expecting it when it came around the turn. Someone handed him the radio from his truck. He raised Jake and apprised him of the situation only moments before Jake came around the turn.

These people were very careful. Jake and the others went through the same routine Joe had. While this was going on, the leader, who had regained some of his composure, was talking on the radio. He gave Joe’s name and looked at him as he kept saying, “That’s right.” Joe wondered what the conversation was all about. The man seemed in a more relaxed mood after ending the conversation. Walking over to Joe, he stuck out his hand, and said, “Sorry about this, Joe. I hope you understand the need for such precautions. I’ll have a few of my men take your group to town. There’s someone there anxious to meet you.” When Joe asked who it was, he shook his head and let Joe know he would see when he got there.

As he watched them leave, he turned to the man next to him and said, “I wouldn’t want to get those people mad at me. Christ, I can imagine what the adults are like by how deadly the children are. I have no doubt the girl would have shot me and the boy would have gutted me.” Shaking his head, he yelled for the men to back the trucks off the road.

Joe followed the small green pickup. The closer to town they got, the more activity they saw. People were digging ditches on both sides of the road and covering them with staked-down tarps. Leaning out the window, Joe saw women placing sharpened sticks in the bottom of the ditch. Whoever attacked the town from this direction was in for a rude awakening. On the two small hills the road ran between, he saw people placing sandbags at the top. From these two bunkers, a few men could hold off a much larger force, if the attackers didn’t have any heavy weapons. On the other side of the hills, the road sloped down in a gentle grade to the town, nestled in the bowl-shaped valley. The driver motioned for them to stop in front of a squat, two-story building. Joe parked and shut the engine off. Jake pulled in behind him and did the same. Getting out of the truck, he stretched to loosen his tired muscles. Jake walked up and joined him. “These people are preparing for a war,” Jake said as they watched the frantic activity going on around them.

“Somehow, this looks familiar to me, Jake. I get the feeling I’ve seen defenses like these people are setting up. You know, when I was in the army, we had a man in my outfit who sat around and thought about situations like this. He would go on for days, just telling us how he would defend a place like this. Damned, if this doesn’t look like something he would dream up.”

He thought about his former buddies, Had it only been five years since they got together? Shaking his head, he turned when someone called his name from the door of the building. Joe told Jake to make the women and kids comfortable until he found out what was going on.

Entering the building, he dodged out of the way of a woman carrying a load of papers. She smiled at him as she went by. At the rear of the room, a large man huddled over a radio arguing with someone. The closer he got, the more he thought he should know him. The man turned, lifted his hand and smiled. Joe stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t possible; he just didn’t have that kind of luck. The man motioned for him to have a seat, then turned back to the radio. Joe sat down in a daze. Around him, people were going about their business like well-oiled machines. Someone shouted his name from the outside door. All he could see was long, bright-red hair, and a gangly body rushing at him. He found himself lifted off the floor in a bear hug. Looking down at the man, he smiled and asked, “Phil, is it really you?”

“You’re damn right, it’s me, you old Indian. What the hell are you doing here, Kemosabi?” He released Joe and stepped back.

Another set of arms closed around his chest from behind, lifting him from the floor like he was a feather. A voice said into his ear, “I still think the only good Indian is a dead Indian.” The arms holding him flew apart and he fell to the floor with a jolt.

He turned to the man, saying, “You never did have any couth, Dave.” He grabbed the man and hugged him. They walked out to the porch where Joe introduced Jake.

Phil winked at Joe, then said, “Joe, did I ever tell you about the time me and my pappy hung three niggers back home?”

Jake stiffened and his hand crept to the gun in his pocket. “I don’t think much of your friend, Joe,” he said in a harsh voice.

Phil looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. “Hey, man, what’s your problem? You one of those strange people who love those stringy fish?”

Jake looked him in the eye and said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Fish, man, niggerheaded trout. We had to hang them up for at least a day before they could be cleaned. ’Course, there are those who eat them right away, but they would be unrefined people. What do you think I’m talking about?”

“Sorry, I thought you were calling me a nigger,” Jake said, still thinking about what Phi said. Phil slapped himself on the head. He walked around Jake and eyed him up and down. Facing Jake, he said, “Where are you hiding the black and white?”

Now Jake looked at Phil like he had lost his mind. He turned to Joe and asked, “Joe, is this guy all together in the head?” As he asked Joe, Phil lifted his shirt and looked under it. Shaking his head, he backed away and got a very serious look on his face.

“Hey, man, I asked you a question.”

“Listen, I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.” Jake began to suspect he was the butt end of a joke, but he had no idea what it was. “What black and white are you talking about? Do I look like a cop to you?” Behind him, he heard Polly snicker and Gail laughed outright. Rolling his eyes back in his head, he looked up at the sky and said, “Do you have something against me? Why am I always the one who doesn’t understand?” Getting no answer, he lowered his eyes and asked, “Alright, I give. Is there some point to this conversation?”

“Oh, Jake, don’t be so dense. I think, in his own way, he’s telling you skin color makes no difference in today’s world,” Polly said, taking his hand and squeezing it.

“Give the little lady the gold ring.” Phil bowed to Polly.

“White folk, why can’t they say what they mean, instead of beating around the bush?” Jake whispered to Polly.

They heard the high whine of an engine and saw a cloud of dust approaching the edge of town.

“Joe, Jake, ladies and children, if that’s who I think it is, I believe you would be a lot safer if you stepped up on the porch,” Dave said. He lifted Tammy and set her on the porch, then climbed up beside her. They turned to watch people scatter as a red pickup barreled down the street. The driver locked up the brakes, leaving streaks of rubber as the truck slid sideways and came to a stop at the edge of the porch.

Gail and the kids stepped back when the driver threw open the door. Jake started to draw the gun from his pocket. Joe reached over and stopped him. Wild-eyed, the man ran up the steps and hit Joe in the jaw, knocking him off his feet. “I owe you that, you cheating, half-breed son of a bitch,” the man said, then smiled and helped Joe to his feet.

Rubbing his jaw, Joe said, “Damn it, Zap, I didn’t cheat. Did it ever occur to you that you’re a lousy card player? Hell, the way you play, Tammy here could take all your money.”

A small girl got out of the passenger side of the truck and walked up the steps. She stopped in front of Joe. Balling up her small fist, she whirled around and hit Zapper in the groin as hard as she could. Zap dropped like a rock. Curled up in the fetal position, his face turned blue as he tried to breathe, yell and pass out at the same time. She drew back her leg to kick Zap, but Dave grabbed her from behind and pulled her away.

“The next time you pull a stunt like that, Zap, I swear I’ll cut your balls off,” the trembling girl said as she tried to get away from Dave.

“This little wildcat is Ginger, our resident goddess. She’s been nothing but a pain in the ass to me since we met,” Dave told them as the girl struggled to get out of his grasp. Tammy walked over and laid her hand on Ginger’s arm and she quit struggling. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment.

All of them knew Tammy and Ginger were communicating with each other on a level they didn’t understand. Ginger nodded once and walked over to where Zapper lay on the porch groaning.

“I’m sorry, Zap.” She put her hand on his arm and a faint blue glow surrounded them both for a moment; then was gone. Zapper quit groaning and stretched his legs out. Although the pain was gone, he gingerly got to his feet.

“For two cents, I would turn you over my knee and tan your hide good,” Zapper told Ginger, who stood there with a little girl look on her face.

“Ah, Zap, you scared me so bad, I didn’t know what I was doing. You could have killed both of us, the way you were driving,” Ginger told him and took his hand in hers. Joe saw that Ginger had Zapper wrapped around her little finger. Dave had Phil take the women and kids over to the hotel to get something to eat. He went with Joe and Jake down to the bank. Joe and Jake carried Stalker’s body into the building and placed it in the vault. They stopped on the sidewalk outside and watched the townspeople, busily preparing for the coming battle.

“We’re about prepared for them. All we can do now is wait for them to arrive and start the fight,” Dave said.

They went to the hotel and joined the others. The rest of the day was spent on catching up on what had happened to each of them in the last six months. Joe had a hard time going to sleep that night. So many different players; it was getting to the point that he needed a score card to keep up with them.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kenneth Baker is the writer of several novels. He lives in the rugged mountains of southern West Virginia near the Kentucky and Virginia borders. Since his retirement in 1999, he has had six books published with many more to come in the future.

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