A Shepherd's Calling (What Comes After Book 2) (8 page)

“
You were there?” The Major asked. “How is that even possible? We had the area under surveillance for twelve hours before we set the plan in motion. How did you-, when could you have come in?” The officer sounded surprised and frustrated.

Tom didn't answer. Even if he had intended to, Janessa would have beat him to it. “We got there just after sunup. Got out maybe twenty minutes later. They started coming into the clearing fifteen or so minutes after that.” Her scornful tone carried an unspoken message:
but no biggie. You got what you wanted. Had your cake and ate it, too. That's all that matters, right?

The marine didn't respond. In fact, Tom felt Vargas was ignoring her. Her and everyone else who wasn't a marine or Tom. Feeling as though he were in some awful state of heightened awareness, he could not recall a single moment from this meeting or the previous one where the officer had even acknowledged the presence of anyone else.

The Major seemed taken aback. “Mr. DuPuis, allow me to apologize. I don't know how it's possible, but if you were on that farm when the ghouls came in, I am incredibly sorry. It was never our intent to place you in any danger, especially not deliberately and for such an ancillary goal.” If the man had more to say, it went unsaid in the face of another interruption.

Toby finally broke his silence. “So, let me get this straight: you and your boys watched us for half a day, then rounded up a whole mess a freaks and led 'em right to our front door? You did that on
purpose
? Led a mob of man-eating monsters to where you
knew
people lived? You planned the whole thing out but somehow missed
that the guy you came looking for was in the same building
?” In his rage, Toby's accent was thick and his voice grew louder with every word. His tirade started in a quiet, almost conspiratorial tone and ended in a near shout.

Vargas maintained eye contact with Tom, made an exaggerated sigh. When he spoke, it was slowly, softly; placating. “Again, Mr. DuPuis, I apologize for any danger you may have been placed in. It's possible we missed your arrival, especially if it coincided with beginning of the execution phase of our operation. There is no excuse for that lapse in awareness. Please, forgive the oversight and know that I am deeply sorry for it.”

While the Major said this, two more marines moved swiftly through the doorway: the large Sergeant and a lanky, dark-skinned fellow. Neither ran, but both took quick steps into the room, the Sergeant breaking right while the other man moved off to the left. Like Davis and the marine still stationed at the door, these two held their weapons ready but not pointed at anyone. Some combination of their appearance and growing proximity convinced Toby against continuing his outburst. Still fuming, he was now shaking in silence.

The officer seemed to draw strength from the presence of his men. Gone was even a trace of softness and placation when he said, “Allow me to be clear, Mr. DuPuis. My orders involve bringing you to Quebec as quickly and safely as possible. If you choose to join us, I will gladly offer the last M.R.E. to feed you, give up my seat in the truck that you are afforded protection and speed on the return trip and if necessary, I will step in front of a ghoul or take a bullet in your place. Any of these men will do the same, if and when those sacrifices become necessary.” If the Major's voice lacked softness before, it now became steel, with hardness in his eyes to match. “Something I will not allow is for a known enemy of humanity to threaten the success of the mission or endanger the lives of the men involved in it. I will take whatever actions I deem necessary to prevent that danger from coming to pass. Do we have an understanding, Mr. DuPuis?”

The Shepherd nodded. “As long as you remember that you answer to a higher power, both in this life and the next, I completely agree with you. I expect you to act as you see fit: in the bests interests of your men and mission.” He gestured to his small group. “These people are all in my care until they or I choose otherwise. You have a vested interest in the safety of your people, just as I have for these people. I expect each of us to protect our own.”

The two marines had closed to within a couple of yards of where Tom and the major were having their exchange. This close, Tom thought Dettweiler was about the same size as Rujuan. Possibly bigger. It was difficult to tell while the man was wearing his load-bearing equipment, armor, weapons and other gear. Eyeing the weapon the large man carried, Tom couldn't help but wonder,
What is it with big guys and shotguns?

The Sergeant spoke in his baritone. “Everything alright, Major?”

The officer watched Tom for a few seconds before replying. When the Shepherd said nothing more, Vargas nodded. “Just ironing out some details. The last one being this: while I have no objection to escorting those with you to Quebec, I cannot vouch for their safety once we reach the city.”

“
Why is that?” Tom was not altogether surprised. Since the feeling of confrontation was ebbing, he let himself become more intellectually driven instead of remaining primed to react physically.

For the first time he was aware of, Tom saw the Major acknowledge one of his companions. Though it was only a flitting glance, the officer looked at Janessa and then Toby. “Some in your company are known to the general population and might even be familiar to select members of government or Command. If I were a betting man, I would wager them to be... poorly received. Food for thought.” Vargas smiled thinly and scooped up his rucksack. “If you care to join us, Mr. DuPuis, we'll be leaving in five. If not... good luck and God speed.”

With that, just as they had the night before, the marines left the room. This time, however, the guard at the door and the Staff Sergeant remained in the room until the other military men had gone. Only after the rest of their unit were out of sight, did these last two back toward the door, eyes still on the small group in the middle of the vehicle bay. Then, each ducked around the corner and disappeared.

As the last marine was leaving, Janessa took hold of her brother's arm.

“
Don't,” she said.

Toby turned toward her, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. He looked furious, but also saw Tom watching him. No doubt he remembered what happened the last time he did something after his sister asked him not to when the Shepherd had been looking at him that way. While he did nothing to further aggravate the situation, he seemed no less angry. As though proving this point, he wrenched his arm from his sister's grasp and began pacing, muttering and shaking his head.

Janessa looked at Tom, her head turning toward him in more of a roll across her shoulder than a swiveled arc. “And you wanna go with those guys?”

Tom returned her gaze. “I do. While his sense of timing leaves something to be desired, Vargas is telling the truth. He wants to get us to safety and he wants us to want that, too. He won't allow any of us to come to harm as long as we don't jeopardize his men.”

Just admit it
, he thought.
You want to see it, too. You want to see if Quebec is still there and if it is, you want to see how it is and who's there and what they're doing. Just seeing the city will say so much about the state of... everything
. He did not allow himself to dare to hope that even if he learned all he could in the old Canadian city, that he would then be worthy enough to return home.

“
How can you know that?” Disgust mixed with wonder and judgment in Janessa's tone.

“
I just do,” Tom replied. “I know it the same way I know you and Toby want to change. The same way I know Ben needs us in his life, at least for now.”

“
I know that makes you crazy.” Toby shook his head and resumed muttering.

Tom considered those words. “Maybe,” he said at last.

“
Instead of questioning the Shepherd's mercy, compassion and resolve, why don't we ensure we are crystal clear about the moral of the Major's story?” Chris brought them back to the matter at hand with a deftness borne from years of teaching and a natural sense of timing.

“
What lesson might that be? That he's a dick? That he gets Muppets to do his dirty work for him? Or that he doesn't pay attention to things really important to his job? Hmm? All of the above? None of the above?” The sarcasm in Janessa's voice bordered on hostility.

“
We can learn many things from his tale, but the most important is also the most obvious: he doesn't like you. Either of you. I can't blame him.” He was looking at the siblings, his face twisted with contempt. “Stop feeling persecuted and picked on. You ate people, for Christ's sake. One of the few cardinal rules of civilization and you made a life out of breaking it. For now, that means the two of you best step carefully around those men. Just to be on the safe side, never stray too far from the Shepherd. We can go over the rest of what his story told us when we're less pressed for time.”

“
What does that make you, gramps? The soldier didn't talk to you, either.” Her voice lost it's conviction even as she spoke.

The Hunter didn't blink. “I was in the service, miss. I'm used to other people writing me off or considering me 'expendable'. I found his honestly and directness refreshing.” He raised a finger. “Also,” he pointed that finger to his chest. “I was in the Army, which means I was a soldier.” He pointed to the door the other men had left through. “Those men are marines. Matters little to me, but it's a distinction that could be very important to them.”

“
You serious?” Toby asked while looking from Chris to his sister.

“
'Them's fightin' words', those boys might say,” Chris replied. “If she makes that mistake, they might just give her an earful. If you or I did it, we would receive an 'education' on the difference.”

“
Then let's make sure we learn that lesson now,” Tom murmured while he shouldered his pack. Looking once more at the others, he indicated the door. “Our way is ahead. No sense keeping it or our new friends waiting.”

The first half mile passed in relative quiet. The only conversation to be had was by the marines, and that only by necessity. It gave the group time to appreciate the sounds of the forest as it awoke and allowed them to better focus on the beauty of the autumn morning. The chill on their faces, the feast of colors in the trees, tall grass and brush, stiff and beginning to brown; all served as reminders that winter was coming.

Tom and his companions found themselves in the center of the group. Though surrounded, this was a wholly different feel from how he had been 'escorted' nearly a week ago, when he had first happened upon the community Janessa and Toby had called home. Then, Tom, Ben and the boy's late mother had been treated as prisoners: circled and herded in a direction not of their choosing, an escort in name only. The men surrounding them now were leading the way to safety for everyone, and offered a ring of protection against the dangers of the world.. Tom appreciated the difference and was grateful for it.

He noticed Vargas and another marine, who carried a portable radio and whose name tag read 'Turner', remained in the midst of the group with Tom and the others. Both military men were aware of their surroundings and moved with practiced ease, but lacked the familiarity of much time spent working together.

Eventually, Tom engaged the pair in conversation. “Is this your job, Major? Does your unit come out here to find certain people and return them to the city?”

The officer scanned to their left and offered a recitation. “The continuing mission of the 9th Special Operations Group is the rebuilding and restoration of America's infrastructure. Of late, that has consisted of gathering intelligence to make informed decisions about where and when to facilitate restructuring or establishment and safekeeping of communities beyond the safe zones.” Turning his head to scan right, he took a breath and added, “In plain English, we're finding out which communities can stand on their own and which need to be relocated.”

Tom swallowed. “Forgive me for putting too fine a point on this: it's been twelve years or more since the End.”

“
Fifteen, for those keeping score at home.” This was interjected jovially by Turner, who smothered his grin under the reproachful look of his commanding officer.

Tom nodded to Turner. “Fifteen years, then. When were you planning on taking... more definitive action?”

A frown creased the Major's worn, brown face. “A long time ago. Things got... complicated. The original plan involved a full-scale domestic deployment the summer after it started. Obviously, that didn't happen.”

When the officer's pause had stretched to nearly a minute, Tom probed further. “What did happen, then?”

Vargas made another face, his left eye twitching while his lips pressed together. “I'm not at liberty to say, Mr. DuPuis. I understand that no doubt frustrates the hell out of you. It must, because it irritates the Christ out of me. But there are a number of things we can't discuss in the field. Not with civilians, at any rate.” The middle-aged man sounded bitter.

“
Outside your pay-grade?” Tom offered.

Apparently finished with his check of the immediate area, the officer returned his focus to the way ahead. Vargas nodded. “Indeed. There are a host of psychologists, sociologists, professors and others far more qualified than us lowly grunts who can tell you what happened and why. No doubt they will when we get you back to the city.” Distaste was painted across Vargas' face.

“
They had their reasons, sir.” Turner said this quietly and not without respect.