The Collective (7 page)

Abel grasped Isnor’s shoulder. “Isnor. Warden’s right. Who
knows what could happen from here to Bourdain. I’ll find Tommie Gun and be back
in a few days. ‘Till then food and drink are on Warden.  He’ll treat you as his
honored guests.” He eyeballed Warden. “Right?’

“You have my word.” Warden smiled and extended his hands as
a courtesy.

“If I find out different...” Abel warned.

Warden was tired of the banter. “I’ll do my part, you just
bring back those plans.”

Abel stepped from the vehicle to help Keera out. She hugged
him as he assured her everything would be fine. He shared a hearty handshake
with Isnor. “Look after her and yourself.”

“You’re the one that needs looking after.” Isnor said
forcing a smile. “Be careful out there.”

“I will.” Abel replied strongly. He turned back to Keera
and she grabbed his hand and placed one of her rings in his palm. 

“For luck.”

“Thanks.” Abel stared at the silver ring; it shone through
the scratches and dents it had collected over the years. Another symbol, he
thought. He hopped into the jeep before his emotions got the best of him.
Driving through the gate he glimpsed back to see Isnor and Keera being escorted
back inside the warehouse. He had to find Tommie Gun now. Warden would
undoubtedly treat them fairly. They would have the run of the complex. But if
he failed to return or find Tommie, his friends’ lives could be at stake. There
was no windshield on the vehicle to halt the rushing wind. Abel pushed the
goggles down over his eyes and accelerated towards the woods.

CHAPTER 7

GRAZEN WOODS

The jeep careened to a halt at the edge of the woods, Abel
had reached his destination.  He shut the engine off, pushed his goggles up and
sat in the vehicle staring at the lushness of the trees. Tommie Gun was the
needle and this was the proverbial haystack. Warden’s instructions were to head
to the middle of the forest. As Keera mentioned, few people returned from these
woods. Supposedly, natives lived here but few ventured out. The young and old
adventurers would enter these woods and never return. At least that was the
story he heard time and time again. Were the natives the culprits or was there
something worse deep within the brownish-green confines? Or was it fables used
to keep children obedient? How many times were children threatened to be
carried off into these very woods? Ironically his journey forced him to
discover the true nature of what dwelled within the stoic evergreens. Abel was
losing daylight. He needed to get his search started before the sun dipped.
Grabbing the guardrail he jumped out of the truck onto the soft ground, the
leaves crackled beneath his feet. He adjusted his vest, securing his blades at
the same time. Each pistol was taken out, wiped off, magazine checked and
pulled back to ensure a bullet was in the chamber before being slid back in the
holster. The compass was sitting on the top of the bottles of water in his
pack. He placed it in his pocket and walked to the back of the jeep where the
M-16 lay. Hoisting up the gun, he could feel the full weight as he placed the
rubber recoil pad on his shoulder and aimed in the direction of the woods. With
two hands underneath the weapon, he tested the balance. It was a solid rifle,
but would slow him down in the small jungle. He needed to be quick and agile if
he hoped to find his target and come out alive. Abel scouted from his vantage
point adjacent to a short hill. He could pick off any pursuers from this
position if he was forced to retreat suddenly. Grabbing some fallen branches
and leaves, he covered up the vehicle; the jeep’s black paint mixed with the
foliage creating camouflage. His concern over the vehicle being discovered and
stolen was appeased. Holding the compass in his hands facing the wilderness,
with the arrow pointing northwest, Abel walked into the unknown.

Abel yanked the machete from its sheath with his eyes
focused on the compass’s tiny north arrow. It was widely speculated that the
woods were two-hundred thousand acres of dense, undriveable terrain.  The area
was thick with greenery and covered by a solid canopy above. As Abel crossed
over birds shot into the sky. It was eerily silent beyond their flapping wings.
Dry leaves crunched under his feet as he cut a straight path through the
overgrown plants and tree limbs. For a land deprived of water, there seemed to
be no signs of deterioration in this place. The area where he hunted with his
father in Gravope was sparse in comparison. Coming to a clearing he wiped the
sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He had walked for an hour
straight, steadily pushing through the green barrier. He took out a bottle of
water, took a seat on a rock and gulped down the contents. Through the
thickness of the overhanging branches he could see the sun, but it appeared to
be dusk where he was standing. Out of the corner of his eye Abel saw the shadow
of a figure behind the trunk of the tree, watching him. He spun with his gun
aimed at the spot. Had his eyes deceived him? There was nothing as he moved
closer to the tree, with his gun extended. He could hear the leaves of the tree
limbs rustling overhead. Looking up he saw a pair of eyes, human eyes, watching
him through the branches. Impossible, he thought? Abel closed his eyes and
shook his head refocusing on the spot. Nothing. Were his nerves getting the
best of him? He had to be seeing things, he thought. Sliding his weapon into
the holster he concluded it was fatigue. Since he left Warden’s domain he had
been moving nonstop. Isnor and Keera’s faces flashed through his mind
strengthening his resolve. Grains and bread, compliments of Warden, were
wrapped in his backpack. He would have a quick snack before he continued.
Sitting back on the rock he held the machete flat across his legs while he ate.
His eyes may have lied to him, but his instincts told him he was being watched.
Draining the rest of the water from the bottle he discarded it onto the ground.
No sooner did the bottle hit the ground than a rush of wind poured through,
shaking the tress and causing the animals to scurry. Abel swirled around with
knife in hand looking in all directions. No one approached. Holding the machete
in his right hand he inched over to the bottle, still keeping his guard up, and
picked it up. The trees slowed to a sway and silence fell again. Abel took
note. Apparently, the Grazen Woods were active and alive. No wonder
unsuspecting explorers were consumed by it. Abel put up his hands to the trees
without unclasping his weapon. Speaking to the perceived spirit of the forest
in a low tone. “I’m looking for someone. When I find him I’ll be out of here. I
mean no harm.”

Anyone passing by would have thought he was crazy, but like
his father was known to say, ‘Better safe than dead.’ Abel believed in spirits
and the Grazen Woods definitely possessed something. Grabbing his pack, he
started to head west when he glimpsed a small glow off to the north in the
distance. He had not noticed before, but it was starting to get dark. Was this
a sign?  He decided to take a chance and head for the light.

High above the trees Tequil watched the intruder. He was
unlike the men who came before him. Alone, lightly armed and a little jumpy,
Tequil was skeptical of the outsider’s intentions. The forest was his people’s
home. Those that showed respect were allowed to pass through without injury.
Those who did not were taken before the council and their punishment exacted
without conscience. Tequil tracked the other men to a nearby location, but had
sensed the presence of the foreigner who was heading toward the center of
Grazen. Tequil was not alone in his surveillance. His brothers and sisters were
among the branches and beneath the bushes.  When the empty water bottle touched
the ground they all shook, symbolizing the impending death of the intruder. But
something strange happened, the man retrieved the rubbish and apologized. It
was uncommon for out-dwellers to have this type of consideration. This man was
different. Tequil shifted his weight on the branch and sprung across to the
next out stretched branch, gliding across the canopy. His body was long and
muscular, honed by years of living off the bark and sap of the trees. Only his
torn jeans covered him, leaving the tribal mark on the middle of his chest
exposed, a full moon with a broken arch behind it symbolizing an eclipse.  The
day that the earth was thrown into darkness when the Collective rose to power.
Born in the forest, Tequil never ventured beyond the tree’s shadows. All he
knew were the elders’ stories.  The council believed that the Collective would
be destroyed one day, but such a war would cause the annihilation of all around
it. Until that day came, Tequil and his people fought fiercely for their home.
Perched on the tree, Tequil moved silently as the wind.  He needed to inform
the council of what he had seen.

Abel had worked his way through the overgrown plants and
was a few feet from the light source when he heard the voices. Ducking into the
brush, he took cover near the group. Peering over the plants he could see two
gang members sitting around a makeshift fire. As one of the members turned to secure
his weapon, he was able to make out their markings. If memory served, they were
part of the gang he encountered in Bourdain. 

“Where the heck did Harvey get off to?” One of the gang
members asked.

“Heck if I know.” The other answered.

“He needs to be here when Sledge comes back with the rest
of the guys.”

Abel shrunk down. The rest of the guys? This was all he
needed. More of Reaper’s gang roaming around. In the last encounter, his
surprise attack caught the group off guard. If he had to fight four or five
armed bikers in the woods with light weapons, the outcome may not be in his
favor. 

“I can’t wait to get my hands on the guy that attacked
Reaper and disrespected  

the
crew.” The biker punched his hand into his open palm.

“Seriously man.” The other said with some clarity that
contrasted with his leather clad, brusque appearance. “This has got to stop.
We’ve already given too much territory to                                  
Warden. We can’t have some nobody rallying the folks in Bourdain.”

“Don’t worry brotha. When we get done with this guy, no one
will disrespect us again.” The two shook hands violently, brandishing their
scorpion tattoos, one claw open and one claw closed on their biceps as he
shouted. “We’re going back to the old days and the old ways!”

Abel stepped back silently keeping his eye on the pair of
bikers. He needed to work his way around and complete his mission. Once he got
back to the Jeep, he had a biker gang problem solver in the trunk in the form
of an M-16. As he backed up, he hit something solid. He thought, I don’t
remember a tree behind me? Suddenly he felt massive arms wrapping around him,
lifting him off the ground. The assailant shouted towards the group. “Hey, look
what I caught. We got a spy!”

Both members jumped up looking in Harvey’s direction, guns
in hand. “What the...? Bring him over here Harvey.” The first Scorpion said.
“Let’s find out how long he’s been listening.” He pulled out his knife and
wiped it across his leg. Harvey lumbered forward and Abel struggled to break
free. Sliding his hand down his waist, Abel managed to reach his gun handle.
Jerking his arm he squeezed the trigger trying to aim at the target. A shot
rang out across the foliage, scaring the wildlife. Harvey released Abel as he
let out a grunt. “Aaaargh!”

Harvey’s boot smoked as he clutched his shin and fell to
the ground. Diving for cover, Abel fired blindly in the direction of the
remaining gang. Safe behind fallen trees, the gang returned fire with more
powerful weapons than Abel anticipated. Shotgun blasts tore the bark off the
tree from forty feet out. Waiting for a pause of shots, Abel fired around the
tree. He could sense the level of his attacker’s frustrations as the bullets
from the automatic weapon sprayed his cover indiscriminately, stripping the
bark raw. If their intent was to kill the tree they were succeeding. Abel
waited for the firing to subside and emptied his clip in the gang’s direction. 
Rushing to reload he let the empty clip fall to the ground and popped in a new
one. He waited for the barrage to continue, but could hear the confusion as the
gang was attacked from their flank.  Abel was being assisted by an unknown
ally. While the thugs were distracted Abel buried a bullet into one of the
member’s shoulders. The brute fell back dropping the shotgun. The second gang
member turned towards Abel as the bullet pierced his leather cladded knee, he
was helped to the ground by a shot to his arm by the unknown aggressor. The man
stepped from the shadows of the trees to finish off the gang members. He coldly
walked to each gang member, pulling the trigger one time for each fallen
Scorpion. Abel searched the grounds but could not find the large gang member
that attacked him. He must have lumbered off during the fray. Abel steeped out
from cover to address his new friend. “Where…?”

“Oh, just passing through doing a little hunting. Saw you
needed some help.” The peculiar man replied.

“Yeah.” Abel said still unsure what to make of the
situation, Abel looked him up and down. He was older with graying hair and a
grizzled beard. His clothes were all different shades of gray; a t-shirt, thick
hunting vest and khaki pants. His boots were well used and needed replacement.
As far as Abel could tell his only weapons were an old pistol hanging from his belt
and a knife.

“You going to shoot me?” The man asked staring at the
barrel of Abel’s gun.

“No.” Abel holstered the firearm. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The man relaxed as he approached Abel.
“What brings you to Grazen?”

“Actually, I’m looking for someone. I was told I would find
him here.” Abel measured his words carefully, searching the man for any clues
of his intent.

The man’s eyebrow cocked. “Oh. Where you heading?”

“To the center of the woods.” Abel said feeling uneasy
about his sudden interest.

“I’ve been there.” The man sheathed his knife as he stared
at the ground as if he was watching something. “Could show you the way?”

Abel was skeptical, but the man had shown his worth by
helping him out of a tight bind.  And time was of the essence, he needed to
find Tommie Gun quickly. He extended his hand to the stranger. “I’m Abel.”

He wiped his hand on his sleeve and returned the gesture.
“Grey.”

“You said you’ve been to the middle of Grazen?” Abel was
fascinated to meet someone that could survive in this environment.

“Yes.” Grey said softly. “But you have to be careful of the
Council.”

“The what?” He asked unsure of the words uttered in the
man’s low voice.

Grey ignored his question, staring up at the sky. “It’s
getting dark. Let’s get from the open. Plus these goons always have friends.”

Abel followed Grey as he trudged deeper into the forest. He
needed a break before he confronted Tommie Gun and was not expecting to get to
the center right away. “Where are we going?”