A Distant Eden (15 page)

The leader was a big, rough looking thirty-year-old. All of the men were Hispanic. They wore gang-banger colors. They acted as though they couldn’t believe their good luck, high-fiving and slapping each other’s backs and laughing. The gang leader, looking like central casting had sent him, said, “You boys on our groun. You don belong here.” Sounding like something out of a bad movie script, he continued, “We take those guns and packs.”

Adrian calmly said, “No.” And then he waited. The three of them stood relaxed. This irritated the gang leader who expected to see fear, wanted to see fear. He wouldn’t be satisfied without seeing fear, a lot of fear, before they killed the three intruders.

“You don unerstan. I didn ask.”

Adrian sighed. “Gentlemen, this is your one and only chance to walk away alive. You think you have us outnumbered and outgunned, and so you do. But we have you outclassed in more ways than I could ever explain to you. I normally wouldn’t waste time talking to you, but I hate to waste bullets these days so you have exactly ten seconds to turn and walk away.” As soon as Adrian said “ten seconds,” the other two started mentally counting down five seconds. They knew that they would all reach five seconds at the same time and open fire, no matter what else was being said, or by whom. This was an old drill they had worked on hundreds of times. Each man knew their targets based on their positions, with the John on the far left taking the four leftmost gangsters, Isaac taking the middle four and Adrian taking the right four. By dividing this way they overlapped and didn’t miss anyone; each man had two to three primary targets, depending on where he was standing, and overlap targets as backup for each other.

The gang leader stared at Adrian in disbelief. “What’s wrong wit you, man? You just itching to die? Tired of life?”

Five seconds was up. There was one loud blast of sound as the three men opened fire without transmitting any signals. The eight men went down firing two wild shots among them. Adrian and his crew kept them covered until they finished dying. The shooting had lasted less than two seconds total. The gangsters were dead within forty-five seconds.

They searched the gang members for useful ammunition, found some and checked their guns. None of the guns were worth keeping so were left behind. Gunfire draws attention so they moved along swiftly. “Guys, if we keep this up we’ll use all our ammo on jerks before we know it. We need to do something different. There are too many jerks and not enough ammo. We need to find reloading equipment and supplies, and edged weapons. I remember an archery shop further back in town that once had spear points. Go on back to the camp, take my pack. I’m going to find that archery store.”

He took off the pack, handed it to Isaac, then spun and trotted off. John and Isaac did as instructed with not a single thought that Adrian needed their help for what he was going to do.

Two hours after dark, Adrian came back to the camp. When he was within a hundred yards, he started whistling the theme from the old TV series Rawhide; something he was known for. The camp was dark, no fire. The women had already dressed in their new boots and BDUs, wrapped in their new ponchos and were sitting on self-inflating sleeping pads and sleeping bags. They had eaten twice since he had left but were still hungry—in a mental kind of way. They would suffer from food separation anxiety for the rest of their lives.

Adrian saw how tired the women were. “Let’s go ahead and have a fire for the girls; I think they could use the cheering up. We’ll double the guard tonight.” They quickly built a fire and the women were visibly cheered by it. Adrian passed out spearheads to the men. They needed to have a shaft put into the socket and they needed sharpening, but the steel was good.

Adrian took out a whetstone and began rhythmically sharpening a spearhead. “You guys know how Zulu warriors fought with spears? Very effective at close quarters. Put a three-foot shaft into this baby and thrust and slash, not throw. Almost impossible to defend against without a shield. These are deadly. Sharpen them and we’ll do some drilling to get used to them tomorrow.”

Each day they walked five miles, slowly. Adrian went ahead scouting the trail, leaving markers behind for the group to follow. Two of the men would spread out and take the flanks and one dropped back to cover the rear. In this way, they moved along at a pace the women could handle while building up strength. The women were eating four solid meals per day. On several occasions they spotted groups of starving walkers moving along the roads, and twice out in the fields. Adrian did not follow roads, only crossed them. Each crossing was made after careful scouting.

Avoiding the walkers was easy. The women had camouflaged clothing, which made it easy for them to hide by lying flat and being still. With the four men spread around the group as they moved, the walkers were always spotted first. The walkers were all starving, looking like death camp inmates, tight stretched skin over protruding bones.

      Adrian camped early each day and spent the afternoons hunting, scouting, or practicing with the spears. They discovered that using an underhand thrusting motion they could put down an opponent rapidly and permanently. They practiced defense against the spears, to be better at offense. It was nearly impossible to block a thrust without being seriously cut by the blade. As Adrian had expected, shields were the only defense that would have a chance against one.

It took three weeks to reach Roman. The ladies were in much better condition when they got there, but they were pretty tired of camping. Several times they had stopped to hunt to supplement the MREs. The men had become adept at finding deer and wild boar. The wild boar was better eating than the deer. The hogs had more fat on them. They were also easier to find and kill because they would often attack, where deer ran away. The hog’s inclination to attack was a weakness that made them easier to kill. The spears were excellent hog killers. The best method was to slash the hog’s neck, cutting the jugular and waiting the couple of minutes it took to bleed out. Spears with longer shafts were better suited for hog hunting than were the stabbing spears.

On the twenty-third day after leaving the hospital, they came single-file out of the woods at Roman’s house. They came out of the bamboo like ghosts, completely silent, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Three weeks in the woods avoiding walkers had given the women woodcraft skills. The men had also been training them to fight; first with guns, then with spears, then with hands. Though not soldiers, these women would never again be totally helpless. They could now take pretty good care of themselves in dire situations. The men had also taught them the basics of hunting and gathering. This gave the women an overall confidence that they never before had.

Strong bonds had formed between the men and the women that would someday lead to marriages. However, all relationships had been kept away from the physical. Each knew, without having to discuss it, that the timing wasn’t right. There were stirrings of a bond forming between Adrian and Alice. Both instinctively tried to avoid it; one was a killer and one was a healer. “How could that work?” Adrian had wondered.

Adrian believed a doctor who had taken an oath to save lives would detest a professional killer. Over the three weeks, Alice came to see Adrian as a good man, and that he killed only to protect the people he cared for. She understood that better than he did; but she also believed he would want a woman more attractive than her, and it was obvious that he could take his pick of women.

Roman had come by the house to check it out for vandal damage. He and Sarah were still living in the brush, avoiding the walkers. So far they had been successful. When he saw Adrian and the rest coming out of the bamboo he lit up with delight. Sizing up the situation, he walked past Adrian and the men and addressed the women.

“Ladies, I’m so happy you are here. Please, let me welcome you to what I hope will be your new home.” The women, fearful of rejection upon arrival, were charmed and immediately at ease. Roman said, “I can’t wait until you meet Sarah—she is the love of my life, my reason for living, and my heart. Ladies, she is going to love you!” With those words, the women all fell in love with Roman. Exactly as he intended, he relieved them of any feelings of pressure that might have been lurking in their minds. Any thoughts that they might be welcome for less than sterling reasons were immediately dispelled. Roman had purposely set the proper tone right off. He hadn’t been married to Sarah for forty-three years and raised a daughter without learning something about how women thought.

He turned to the men with Adrian and said, “You men are as welcome as these ladies. I truly hope that you will honor Sarah and me by considering this your home just as if you were raised here. As far as I am concerned, you are all sons now.” The men, tough as they were, were moved. Moved to the point that no one dared say anything; they just nodded, looked at their feet and felt at home. Again, Roman knew what he was doing.

Then, finally, he turned to Adrian and choked up, no words were able to come out. Roman hugged Adrian long and hard. Finally, he was able to say in a rough voice, “Damn, boy, what took you so long? Sarah’s been worrying about you.”

Karen saw the massive head of the hog push through the under-skirting. It had large, curled yellowed tusks. Its jaws were clacking together like steel traps. Its eyes were red with rage. This pig smelled food—and it would have it.

Carrying a 12-gauge pump shotgun loaded with double-ought buckshot, Karen in a panic pointed the muzzle at the hog and pulled the trigger. The hog’s reaction was instantaneous: it had never been shot at before, and the explosion and blinding flash at close range followed by the pain it felt as the buckshot tore into its shield terrified the hog. It shrieked, an eerie, nerve shattering, bone-chilling sound, before it turned and ran off.

Immediately the underside of the house turned into chaos as the adults grabbed their guns and ran to their assigned stations. In the darkness, it took a couple of minutes to get straight what had just happened. Karen was near hysterics after being only feet from the giant hog’s snapping teeth. As soon as all was calm again, Jerry and Dave stepped outside to search for the beast.

Dave stood by the fence, looking deeply into the brush. “He’ll be back if he isn’t badly wounded. And even then he still might come back. Hogs are known for seeking revenge. He found what he thought was easy pickings, and he probably hasn’t associated the gunshot with the food yet. If he comes back and we have to kill him in the yard, it will be hell getting rid of that porker. It will draw so much attention we might as well turn a spotlight on. We need to track it down and kill it away from the house.”

Jerry replied, “You’re right. One way or another we have to finish that hog off, and the further away the better. That’s why I brought the SKS with full metal jacket bullets. These won’t expand, but they will penetrate. With the 12-gauge slugs you have, you’ll be able to hit him hard while I hit him deep. I am hoping it will provide a quick one-two punch out. If we can knock him down then we can do a quick coup de grace and get out of there.”

“Yeah, and no meat off this thing; I’m sure it’ll have been eating human flesh.”

They moved into the edge of the field and waited for first light. As soon as they could, they began looking for blood signs. They found some, but it quickly faded out. The wounds in the shield had sealed, shutting off blood flow. Now they were hunting a six hundred pound wounded monster. This was as dangerous as hunting a wounded rhino. More so, the hog was meaner than a rhino.

But though the blood trail ceased, the weight of the hog made its tracks show even in hard dirt. Jerry and Dave tracked it down to the creek. As they entered the thick brush, the monster charged them. It came at them at thirty miles an hour, knocking brush and saplings aside. It hurtled at them with rage, shrieking loudly.

Dave and Jerry stood shoulder to shoulder and began firing as fast as they could. It was impossible to aim for its head, so instead they poured lead into the center of its mass. But though they were hitting it, the hog would not slow.

At the last possible second Jerry and Dave jumped away from each other, letting the hog run between them. It skidded to a halt and turned to come back. As it turned broadside, they were firing at it again, this time hitting it in the shoulder and gut. One of the 12-gauge slugs hit the shoulder joint, breaking it. This slowed the hog down to a three-legged trot, but it kept coming, bloody and angry.

Dave had to stop to reload. Jerry had rounds left. He carefully aimed between the hog’s eyes and put two fast shots in. The hog was dead on its running feet and still came on until the legs lost coordination. It skidded to a stop and fell, inches away. One last rancid breath came from its mouth. Standing, it had been four feet tall and eight feet long. Laying on its side it was still three feet high. It was truly a monster from hell.

Jerry and Dave quickly left the area, moved up the creek in thick brush and waited to see if anyone would come to the shots. No one showed, so they went back to the house as inconspicuously as possible. Jerry looked back over the fence and saw two emaciated men walking up to the hog. He soon heard a whoop as they discovered the huge pile of meat. Jerry knew it would be only a matter of hours before the hog was completely butchered and hauled away. Some family would eat well for a few days, probably not knowing what the hog had been feeding on. Or not caring if they did. If not for their food stores, the families would be butchering the hog themselves.

Dave and Jerry watched the butchering from one of the dormer windows. They wanted to see how many people showed up and where they came from. They thought that the word might spread and a lot of people would come out. They were surprised that only four or five did, all from the same place. They had just managed to haul off the rear legs and come back for more when a group of six armed men showed up.

Jerry said, “Must be a local gang.”