Into the Badlands (21 page)

“Over and done,” Ed replied. “Tomorrow's a new day.” He flipped on the flashlight again, then followed the beam into the darkness with his eyes. Nothing moved. He began to feel sleepy. “We should get some rest,” he suggested.

“Good idea.” Dave replied. “Tomorrow's another day.”

Ed knocked on the support beam of the shelf to alert Trish he was there. Luckily Trish was awake. She called down to him. “Ed! Is that you?”

“In the flesh,” he called back. “I’m coming up.”

“Okay.”

Ed climbed up the shelving support beams to the second-level shelf where Trish and the boys were bunked for the night. When he got there he found both boys asleep. He maneuvered around them, being careful not to wake them. They stirred, but remained asleep.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he whispered.

“I couldn’t. I was a little worried. That man...”

“Dave?”

“Yeah, Dave. He flipped his lid yesterday, you know?”

Ed chuckled softly. “You could say that.”

“Well, I was worried about you. I wasn’t sure what might happen.”

Ed blushed a little. It was nice hearing that someone was worried about him. “He’s as stable as can be expected, I suppose. He claims he lost his wife recently in a shootout of some kind. Apparently yesterday triggered some nasty shit in him. Claims he's normally not batshit crazy.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I think so. He seems legit enough so far.”

“What about those girls? They’re a bit scary.”

“Not sure yet. Dave vouches for them, for whatever that’s worth.”

Trish paused for a moment. “What about Mitchell? He seems nice. I want to trust him. I get the feeling he could have killed us all if he’d wanted to.”

“I get that feeling too. Ol' Mitchell Burdette looked like a wild west gunslinger there with those pistols strapped to his hips.” He took a moment to consider if he should continue, then decided he should. “I got the feeling I could trust him. And I don’t trust too many people, not any more, at least. Is that crazy?”

“No, it’s not,” Trish replied. “I got the same feeling too. Maybe it’s that down-home accent,” she chuckled. “Or maybe he’s just a no bullshit kind of guy. We should still be careful though, especially tonight. I hope you were planning on one of us staying awake.”

“I was. You read my mind.” He smiled a smile she couldn’t see in the dark.

“How long do you want to stick around here for?” she asked.

He thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. At least a day or two, definitely after rain stops. I’d like to walk out of here with some serious supplies, if nothing else.”

“And then we’re off to see the wizard?”

“We are.”

Then, without warning, Trish leaned over and kissed him in the darkness.

He returned it.

CHAPTER 15

Eventually the rain stopped. Sometime over the course of the night the slow drizzle had subsided to a light sprinkle which was by morning mostly gone. The clouds moved out and the sun came out in full force, beginning its job of burning off the water from the ground. Just one more day on a planet already four and a half-billion years old.

After nearly three days Trish and the boys had begun to settle in at Mitchell's, enjoying the routine of hot meals and a warm, dry place to sleep. The boys had grown particularly fond of daily candy bars after dinner. Ed couldn't blame them; they wanted what all little boys wanted. The fact that they'd ever been denied these things seemed an unparalleled injustice.

Ed knew, however, that complacency bred carelessness. Safety was an illusion. That's why their things were always packed and ready should they need to escape. They watched the aisles of the warehouse carefully at all times. In the pre-virus world nothing had been certain; this was even more true in the post-virus world.

Eventually they would have to leave this place as they'd left the RV. Trish and the boys were growing fond of Mitchell. The truth was, so was Ed. By all appearances he was a kind-hearted man with a paternal nature and a knack for saying the right thing at the right time. His convictions were simple and right. He was religious, but not over the top with it. Ed thought he was the kind of person you wanted to have around when the going got tough.

As much as Mitchell complained of his advanced age Ed knew that was a kind of humble ruse. Mitchell was fifty at most, but Ed was willing to bet that he could move like a man half his age. His skill with a gun had been alluded to only, never explicitly stated or bragged about. It had been Ed's experience that those who possessed certain traits or abilities never had to brag about them. The sort of braggarts who did were typically full of shit.

He kept a very close eye on Dave and the girls. Dave had become a helper to Mitchell, fetching the water and food and taking care of the trash. Truth was he was also warming up to Dave. After the conversation he'd had with him the prior night he felt like they were getting somewhere. Dave was beginning to seem less like a loose canon and more like a man who really had just been pushed to the brink. That was understandable given what he'd been through.

And then there was the kiss. Honestly Ed hadn't expected it; he had been caught off guard. He knew Trish was fond of him, but not to that extent. Now things were taking a strange, new turn. He felt he was now not only the protector of his two young boys, but also of Trish as well. He was beginning to find, however, that he really didn't seem to mind that.

Mitchell asked them to stay for dinner and for another night, despite the rain all but ceasing. Everyone agreed. Ed had originally seen Mitchell as a loner, a recluse holed up in a world he'd created for himself. Now, however, he was seeing things differently. Mitchell was lonely, plain and simple. Now he had company and he didn't want to lose it just yet. They all had lunch together, but this time they didn't disperse to their separate groups directly afterward. A conversation between the two arose, initiated by Trish.

“So how did you two meet up?” she asked Brenda and Tammy. She took a sip of her coffee, awaiting their response.

Both Brenda and Tammy seemed surprised, as did the others. Both Dave and Ed turned to look at her. The boys were playing a few yards away, and even they turned to look. Only Mitchell seemed unaffected, continuing the cleanup of their dinner supplies. Nothing seemed to phase him.

“We met in an old gas station,” Tammy began. “The army guys left me behind, so I decided that I'd just strike out on my own. Better to die on my feet than live on my knees and all that, you know? I walked into that gas station, then heard something. Those days I was carrying a baseball bat with a nail drove through it.

“I walked in an saw Brenda; then I just about buried that ball bat in her head. Luckily I didn't 'cause after she started talking I knew she wasn't infected.”

While Tammy spoke Dave was reminded of the little carrier girl he'd killed back in another service station. He quickly pushed that thought out of his mind; it would do him no good.

Brenda continued the story. “We decided there was strength in numbers, so we joined up. We've been traveling together ever since. I suppose it's been two and a half years now?”

Tammy nodded.

“How about you, Trish?” Brenda continued. “What's your story?”

Trish stopped for a moment, thinking. She though about Tim and her lonely months on the road after his death, and she thought about her abduction and subsequent imprisonment and rape. She was unsure whether or not to share all that, but she'd opened this can of worms on her own. There was no one else to blame. Besides, part of her wanted desperately to just get it all out.

She glanced over at Ed, then saw the look on his face. He was concerned; he knew some of her secrets and he knew she might not want to reveal them.
At some point though
, she thought,
you've gotta face the facts
.

“I met a boy in high school; his name was Tim. When the virus hit we lost our families and we ended up with each other. We also got left behind like Tammy, so we had to fend for ourselves. Tim was like a husband to me. No, he was more like a soul mate. We went through a lot together. The hunger, the cold, and the deadwalkers were everywhere. I'm not sure how we survived.”

“It was tough right afterward,” Brenda added. “I remember.”

Trish continued. “It was almost unbearable, but Tim helped. He was my crutch. I leaned pretty hard on him.”

She stopped for a moment, then she stared off into the distance. Everyone was listening now, watching her as she told her story. Even Mitchell had stopped cleaning and was now engaged.

“They ripped him to pieces. A dozen or more of them. It was the worst thing I've ever seen.” She looked at Brenda, her eyes beginning to water.

“Honey, you don't have to go on,” Brenda said. “I didn't mean to...”

“No, it's okay. I need to tell somebody. There's been no one to tell until now. I've been all alone up until now.” Ed reached over and put a hand on her shoulder; she looked back at him and smiled.

“He died saving me. Can you imagine how that feels? You don't know how many nights I had a pistol in my mouth. I couldn't pull the trigger. I wanted to; I wanted to so badly, but it felt wrong. It would mean that he died for nothing, and I didn't want to be responsible for that.” She wiped her eyes. “I loved him and hated him for it.”

Silence filled the building. No one spoke. Then Trish continued. “I wandered for over a year by myself. It felt like purgatory. Then when those men caught me...they did horrible things to me. Tim kept me going even then when I wanted to give up.”

Trish looked around the group, noticing that everyone was staring. A tear streamed down her face, leaving a clean streak on her dirty face. She wiped it away, sniffling, then laughed. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go on and on like that. It's just that I've never told anyone that before. I didn't plan on making a scene.”

The others smiled. Ed hugged her gently. She hugged him back. She looked up at him. “I'm tired,” she said. “Mind if I take a nap?”

“Of course not,” he replied. “Get some rest.”

She smiled at him, then touched his hand. She got up and walked back toward the makeshift bed they'd been sleeping on for the past two nights. It was in sight of where they sat so he felt comfortable letting her go alone. She had already learned to boost herself up.

“Is Trish okay?” Jeremy asked from where he and his brother were playing.

“She's fine,” Ed told him. He walked over to where his boys played, then gave them both a pat on the head. “She's just tired.” Both boys nodded and went back to playing.

“That girl's a fighter,” Mitchell said, matter-of-factly.

“Damn straight,” Ed replied, still watching Trish as she walked away.

“We’ll probably head out tomorrow,” Ed told Mitchell as they sat together, eating. Mitchell had made spaghetti for dinner and Ed felt he might miss the hot meals more than anything else. After lunch the boys had gone down for a nap with Trish, but Ed stayed up, thinking. The warehouse provided them with a lot of things, but it didn’t provide them with a permanent home. That home was, after all, their reason to keep going. Eventually the food and supplies would run out, and they'd be on the road again anyway.

After Trish awoke Ed told her his plans. She was mildly disappointed, as were the boys, but they all agreed they should keep moving. There really was no other choice. The warehouse was a respite from the road, but their safe haven still beckoned from the west.

“Well, it’s been real pleasure having you folks here,” Mitchell replied. He turned to look at Dave. “How about you folks? Care to stay a while longer or are you planning to leave too?”

Dave looked at Tammy and Brenda, then Brenda spoke. “We haven’t really talked about it yet.”

“Take your time, there’s no rush,” he told them smiling.

“We’ve appreciated your hospitality,” Ed added. “We’re deeply indebted.”

“You folks don’t owe me anything. The Lord provides,” Mitchell replied. “It ain’t up to me to take credit for it.”

Ed smiled. “We’re obliged all the same.”

“And you’re welcome, all the same. Now eat up; we don’t want to leave any of this food lying around. Those carriers have a knack for finding dinner, even if you don’t invite 'em.”

They ate, mostly in silence, finishing up the entire batch of spaghetti. They washed it down with bottled water, then Mitchell gave Zach and Jeremy their choice of candy bar. When stocking up the day before Ed made sure to bring chocolate along for the boys; he knew they would appreciate it on the road.

After dinner the adults sat together, talking. Dave was recounting a story about the greatest scavenge he had ever pulled off when they heard a loud bang from across the room. Everyone jumped to attention. Ed drew his pistol, then gathered up the kids. Trish joined them, putting her arms around the boys.

Brenda drew her pistol as well; Tammy reached over and picked up the rifle she had leaned against a shelf post. Dave stood up, without a weapon, kicking himself for not keeping the baseball bat closer. He’d been careless.

Mitchell stood slowly, holding a hand up to ensure the others stayed quiet. Eerie silence filled the large warehouse. He took three steps, then stopped, listening. Another loud bang sounded as something dropped to the floor. Everyone jumped except for Mitchell. He stood still, holding his hand up again for the others to remain quiet. Trish hugged the boys closer as Ed stood beside them, gun drawn, scanning the aisles for movement. He had a brief flashback of the carrier charging at Zach back in the sporting good store during the winter. He never wanted to see that again.

Mitchell continued to listen, both guns still in their holsters on hips. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he whistled.

“What are you doing?” Brenda whispered. If he heard her, he didn't acknowledge it. Ed wasn’t comfortable drawing any attention to themselves either. He began to wonder if maybe Mitchell wasn't actually the crazy one after all.

Suddenly they heard a carrier scream somewhere in the building, followed by more crashes. The scream pierced the quiet warehouse, the natural openness of the room allowing echoes to increase the volume and repetition of the horrible sound. Mitchell looked around them, scanning to the left and the right. Then he focused on Ed.

“Duck,” he said.

“What?” Ed asked quietly.

“Duck, now,” Mitchell repeated.

Ed hit the ground.

Mitchell’s right hand went to his waist so quickly it was difficult for anyone to see it move. He drew his pistol, a six-shooter of some sort Ed noted, then fired off two shots. Ed heard the dull thud of two bullets hitting flesh, the saw two decrepit bodies fall to the ground behind him. The sound of the shots were so close together he couldn’t believe they’d been fired from the same gun.

Mitchell suddenly turned to his left, firing three more times. The shots were fired in quick succession, before Ed could even stand up. None of the others fired off a shot. One of the carriers began to scream, but it was cut short by a bullet to the head. The bodies fell, almost in unison, as smoke drifted lazily from the barrel of his gun.

The warehouse went silent. Ed stood up, then went to Trish and the boys. “Go climb into that shelf. Get your things ready in case we need to run.” Trish nodded, then rounded the boys up. They ran to the shelves and climbed up. At least the shelves provided some distance between them and the carriers until he could figure out what to do next.

“Do you think that’s all of them?” Dave asked.

“Hard to say,” Mitchell responded, “but gunfire draws ‘em in. Last time this happened I just climbed the shelves and waited it out. A few more of ‘em walked in, but they got bored quick.”

He pulled the cylinder from his revolver, the placed it into a pouch on his belt. It had one bullet remaining. He produced a pre-loaded cylinder from another compartment, then reloaded the gun, placing it into the holster on his hip.

He turned to Ed. “If you want my advice, I’d say stay put for now. Hard to say how many of those things will be wandering around out there, looking for what made all that racket. They'll go their own way eventually, then you can be on yours.” Ed considered what Mitchell said. Before he could respond, Dave spoke.