Storm Tide Rising: Blackout Volume 2 (42 page)

Joe nodded. “I know the place. I used to take Eric there for basketball games when he was a kid. Every other week on Wednesday sound good?”

Danny nodded. “How much will you bring?”

Joe looked over to Brant and shrugged. “What do you think, Brant? How much can we afford to part with?”

“A good size heifer will dress out at around seven fifty, maybe eight hundred pounds,” Brant said, thinking out loud. “I’d say anywhere between seventy five and a hundred pounds per trip, depending on what they need. Y’all got cold storage?”

Danny shook his head. “We’ve got the freezers, but running out of juice for the generators.”

“So you’ll be salting and jerking what you don’t eat right away?”  Joe asked, and Danny nodded. “Will you be able to cure all of that before it spoils?”

Danny shrugged. “I imagine. We’ve got about forty people in seven families getting their meat from us right now. Most of them cook it right off and eat it, so there’s usually not much left. What little bit we don’t trade out we salt down or smoke cure as best we can. The colder it gets, the longer we’ll be able to keep it. I don’t know what we’re going to do once spring and summer hit.”

“We might be able to help you cross that bridge when we get to it,” Joe said, “but right now, I’m more worried about making it
to
the spring and summer than I am about making it
through
them.”

Danny barked a short laugh. “I guess you got a good point there. Listen, I’ll bring sugar and salt to trade next week; put a little extra good will in the bank.”

“You won’t get any complaints from us,” Joe said, shaking his hand again. “Now I’ve got a favor to ask, though. You seem to know an awful lot about what’s happening in town. How often do you go in or how often do you have people bringing word out to you.”

Danny's eyes narrowed, and he was quiet for a long moment. "I don't like to get into specifics, you understand?"  he asked after a moment, and Joe nodded. "I know a few ways to get into the city without many people knowing. Not unless they're looking, anyway. I know some people who go back and forth trading things. What is it you want to know?"

"A way in," Joe answered. "I need to get my eyes on this group you talked about, see what they're really like."

"That ain't exactly easy," Danny said, "or smart, to be honest. They tend to react badly to questions. That smoke you see climbing up over the trees, that's from Lakewood and Forest Hills. They set part of both neighborhoods burning day before yesterday. House fires so hot even the rain didn't put them out."

"Why?" Brant asked, shocked.

"Hell, I don't know," Danny replied with a shrug. "Boredom, I guess. But now that the rain's lettin up, I think they're watching to see how far a fire can spread once it's been stoked up. They're gonna start smokin out the town a neighborhood at the time. All that to say, these boys are a special kind of crazy, and you really don't want to mess with that."

Joe smiled a small smile and patted Danny's shoulder. "That's okay," he said. "You'll find out pretty quick I'm my own kind of crazy."

Eric stepped forward immediately. "If you're going, then so am I," he said firmly. "You need someone to watch your back and Tom's about sick enough to fall over and Chris is pulling double duty here and at the gates. He can help Brant and the other guys keep an eye on the cows, too, while we're gone."

Joe held up a hand. "Okay, Eric, I get it. I think it's a good idea to have an extra set of eyes?"

Eric nodded and stepped back, his eyes down at his shoes. Joe ran a hand through his short cropped hair, worried. Ever since his son had been ambushed fishing on the river, he had been obsessed with everyone walking in pairs outside the fence. The whole experience had shaken him deeply, and Joe worried that the impact was more than even Eric was willing to admit.

"We might have to move kinda quick," Danny said, with a meaningful glance at Joe. "Every now and then we run into their patrols."

Joe chuckled a short, wry chuckle. "I was a Navy SEAL for twenty two years, Danny. I promise if you can get in without getting caught, I'll have no problem. You just point out the path, okay?"

Danny shrugged. "Whatever you say, Mr. Tillman. I'll show you one of the ways I travel getting into that side of town. Just remember, I warned you that it ain't an easy road."

Danny and Brant shook hands one more time, and Joe passed down some instructions to Tom and Chris. Once everything was set, Danny led his horse down to the road and started walking west toward town. Joe and Eric walked on either side, their rifles at the ready.

Just before the road rounded a bend, Eric glanced back and raised his hand to waive, and then they were gone.

Ch.70

Doctor's Orders

Mike held the bowl of warm beanie weenies and ate it slowly, savoring the smell as much as the taste. He finally wrapped up telling Christina's parents how he had met their daughter and future son-in-law. There had been a few questions when he told them how they'd parted ways and he'd gone after Alyssa and her sister.

"What do you think the chances are that they made it?"  Arthur asked after a long silence.

"They made it," Mike said confidently. "Eric was adamant about the need to keep moving to get ahead of what he knew was coming. They had two cars, supplies, and enough fuel to make it halfway to Maryland, probably. They made it."

Arthur exchanged a meaningful glance with his wife, and when he turned back to Mike and the sisters, he looked as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time since they'd met, he had the traces of a genuine smile showing at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

"I don't think it was an accident us meeting," Arthur said plainly. "We're planning to go after Christina, and find her, and we'd like it if you three would come with us. A lot of things had to come together to put us into each others' paths, and I think if we ignore that, we'd be making a pretty big mistake."

Mike opened his mouth to answer, but Alyssa beat him to it. "Of course we'll go with you," she said, firmly cutting a glance at Mike out of the corner of her eye. "Don't be an idiot, Mike, the man's right."

Mike's teeth clicked as he closed his mouth and clenched his jaw. He smiled a forced smile. "If you'd given me the chance, I was going to accept his offer, Alyssa. We can get a start first thing in the morning."

But Arthur shook his head. "The only condition I have is that you agree not to leave until I clear you medically."

Mike blinked in surprise. "Wait a minute, doc," he said, incredulous at the thought of another delay. "You said yourself that even though people aren't exactly your specialty, my arm seemed to be healing very well."

"I said very well, considering," Arthur replied, "and besides, you're still getting over a serious and severe illness. I want you all to come with us, but I also want you all to get there with us as well. If you leave now, you'll die on the road, Mike. You're just not strong enough yet."

Mike started to argue, but he knew that Arthur was right. His legs still burned when he climbed the stairs, and he got dizzy when he turned around too quickly. Finally, he nodded reluctantly. "Okay, then, we wait until I'm strong enough to travel or until our supplies are used up. But you're going to be in charge of my physical therapy. Since you've been through it so much, you can walk me through the paces."

Arthur chuckled. "That's a deal. If you're serious about it, and you can put up with the pain, we can be on the road in about two weeks."

"Well, unless you want to still be on the road come Thanksgiving, we’d better get started, doc," Mike said, and climbed slowly to his feet. "We're burnin daylight."

Ch.71

Wrong Side of the Tracks

Danny crept forward on his belly, inching his way up to the edge of the trees. The three were high on the embankment surrounding an old and out-of-service railroad line. Danny checked up and down the overgrown track as far as he could see, but there was no movement anywhere. Satisfied that they weren't being watched, he stood and stepped out onto the red clay and the thin broom-straw fringe overlooking the dog fennel that choked the track.

Joe and Eric followed him out, but they kept a wary eye on the far side of the track and the shadows beneath the pines. Joe took note to look at how the trees stood, fixing tall ones, short ones, and the oddly shaped so he could remember their general location later. This would serve as a good ambush point, if need be. The tracks funneled into a kill box between the twin ten-foot-high red clay embankments. A good cover of trees on both sides could provide a screen for egress.

Danny pointed to the northeast along the track. "If you follow that for about a quarter to a half a mile, you'll come up on the old tobacco market. One of the roads into the back side of town runs by that warehouse and connects out to the interstate. The two golf courses are off the interstate, and that's where all the smoke is coming from."

Danny spoke in a hushed tone that wasn't quite a whisper, but wasn't far from it.

"You said you'd take us into town," Joe said. "This isn't town, Danny. You're nervous. What's going on?"

Danny took a deep breath and glanced around. His hand hadn't moved from the trigger of his lever action Marlin rifle. "Okay, this group I told you about sends out these patrols from time to time. Anyone they find and consider a criminal is brought for justice."

"What do these patrols consider criminal?"  Joe asked, his voice suddenly very cold and hard.

Danny shrugged slightly. "Depends on the patrol," he said, "but it usually doesn't take a whole lot. They tend to find a reason to accuse people they come across because if you get convicted, so to speak, they get to take your stuff. They call it forfeit of property, I guess to make themselves feel better about it. But they'll take everything you have, split it up, and kick you back into the world. Most people don't make it but a couple of days, if that."

"And you didn't think to mention it before now?"  Joe asked, his anger rising. "You said these were a bunch of thugs, but they're sending out patrols? Does that sound like some dumb gang bangers to you, Danny?"

"Hell, I don't know," Danny admitted. "I work in a butcher's shop, Captain. I just know what I'm told and the little bit I've seen."

Joe took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down before speaking again. "If you see one of these patrols, let me know. You two keep your hands on your weapons, but fingers off the trigger unless I tell you otherwise. Maybe we can bluff them, but I don't want to start a shooting war unless we have to, okay?"

"Yes sir," Eric said automatically, and Danny nodded.

"All right, Danny," Joe said. "You lead the way."

Danny barked a short chuckle. "You're not hearing me, Captain. I'm a butcher, not a soldier or a spy. How am I supposed to find the courage so I'm not afraid?"

Joe smiled, and shook his head. "You've got it mixed up, Danny," he said. "Courage isn't about being unafraid. It's about being terrified and doing what needs to be done anyway. You're out here, aren't you? That takes courage in and of itself."

Danny shrugged again and said, "Whatever you say, Captain," and he climbed down a well-worn path to the railroad bed.

Danny followed a footpath along the right side of the tracks that was pretty well hidden from the ridge above. As they walked, Joe tried his best to pick out any landmark that would help him navigate later. When they were halfway to the old warehouse, his eyes picked out a large white quartz formation jutting out of the red clay on the far side of the track, and he pointed it out to Eric.

"If we get separated," Joe whispered, "that quartz boulder is our rally point, okay? We all meet back there and then head out together."

Danny nodded along with Eric.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and soon the long, low shape of the old tobacco warehouse loomed to the left, rising out of a concrete foundation six feet thick and the size of a football field. Massive steel columns were set in that gigantic block of concrete, and they arched overhead to form the frame of the walls and roof. Sheet tin that once covered the roof was rusted and collapsed in several places. Open loading docks stood like open mouths along the railroad tracks.

Danny stopped, his eyes darting around. "Okay, we’re inside the edge of the city now."

Eric smiled as he looked at the run down building. "I remember coming here," he said. "I rode on top of the tobacco bales in the flatbed, and I'd sit on the tailgate as Granddaddy backed up to the bidding floor."

 Joe nodded, his own memories of trips to the market rolling through his mind like a dim hum. "Danny, how far is it to the nearest neighborhood you said was on fire?"

Danny thought for a moment before answering. "Probably Forest Hills. It's still a little more than a mile from here. Let me guess, I'm taking you there?"

Joe gave a small smile and shrug. "We've already gone this far. I just want to see what's happening so I get a good picture of how serious these guys are."

Danny glanced meaningfully up at the thick cloud of smoke rising a few miles to the northwest, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he drug in a huge breath of determination and started walking again. Danny never even glanced back, so Joe and Eric were left with the decision to either be abandoned in unfamiliar territory or follow. Joe took the left side and Eric took the right side as they followed Danny down the road that crossed the railroad tracks.

The sun was almost directly overhead at this point, and it was warm enough to make walking a hot task. Joe took a bottle of water from the small trail pack on his back and sipped about a third of it. He tossed the rest to Eric, who did the same and then offered the remainder to Danny. After a brief hesitation, Danny took the water and drank it gratefully.

Danny led them confidently through a series of intersections, either walking straight across and ignoring the side roads altogether, or checking carefully and making a calculated turn. After what seemed like an eternity of side streets and surface roads, they finally stood at a gas station a few hundred yards down the street from a broad avenue. A brick sign proclaimed the gated entrance to Forest Hills Community and Golf Course.