THE KILLER ANGEL: Book Two "Legend" (THE KILLER ANGEL TRILOGY 2) (16 page)

So much was left in anxious conjecture, but it was clearly evident that beloved family members were alive and in trouble. After stunned silence, everyone knew that it was time for action. Although nothing immediate could be accomplished, the journey east would speedily recommence, although much sooner than planned.

Chapter Nine

“Good Things Must End”

“H
OW SOON will you leave?” Kip could read my mind like no other, save perhaps Brick.

“As soon as possible,” I replied. Ben and I would accompany Brick to the Dakotas, then continue on our own path to Florida to find my family and Kip’s.

All destinations were urgent and would not suffer delay, as we languished in Hedley. I did not want to leave and it pained me to think of it. I wanted to remain there with my Grampa, Gramma and Kip, enjoying life in peace and pleasant company, forgetting the grim existence of existence outside the fence. But this was my new reality; it was a world to which all must adjust or perish.

Kip would be unable to accompany me on this journey, much to his great chagrin. He was beside himself with fear and concern, and insisted that a few of his most trusted men attach themselves to us, all of whom sent sincere and imploring notes of their wishes to join me when they learned of my plan.

Firmly and forcefully, yet without insult, I rejected entreaties to increase our team. Kip understood, difficult though it was for him to accept.

“I have heard many times that you operate mostly alone; I guess there is no denying it.” Kip smiled at me and held me close. “You must come back safely to me, my Nicki; and bring our families back with you.”

“I will not fail, my beloved,” I replied. It was to be our last night together. We spent the time rebuilding and servicing our equipment and supplies. Following that, the evening was reserved for the close, loving contact of those facing an intimidating and uncertain future. Bonds of love and genuine affection were closer than ever imagined possible before this age of survival.

Two days later, refreshed and reloaded, we all stepped outside. Looking at me then in full gear, Kip grinned, and announced, “God, you even look like a legend, Nicki.” He nodded, “I’m so proud of you. I love you forever.” We embraced one last time.

Brick and Kip gripped each other as only men can, bonded in strength and courage; they were brothers to the core. Kip did not ask Brick to watch over me; he knew it as an automatic given.

As we walked away, my Grampa said, “Wait!” He whipped out his camera, an old Polaroid, of all things. He then took what is, as far as I know, the only photograph every taken of me in full gear.

He has it still
...

We waved farewell, and as we exited the gates of Compound Three, there were hundreds of people lining the streets that led to the eastern gate. Word had spread of our departure, and it seemed that every resident wanted to bid us a farewell.

Many times, I saw parents on one knee, pointing and identifying us to children, but sometimes it was the kids who were saying to parents, or to anyone who would listen, “Look mommy, it’s Nicki Redstone! There’s Brick! Look at Ben!”

It was strange to be a parade spectacle, but it was a good feeling, too. We all needed heroes in this dark age, and if I could play the part and make others feel proud and happy, then it was okay by me. Brick didn’t seem to mind, either, striding tall and proudly next to me. Ben, too, seemed to take note of the occasion, walking like a military trained professional, which - perhaps - he was.

Kip and I did not marry then, in Hedley, as many had expected. We both already felt a long existing, unbreakable bond for life. Eventually, we would be there officially, but not this trip.

Kip, with his usual quick wit, had joked that he would probably be known as Mr. Redstone anyway, a thought that made us all laugh. Gramma had enjoined, in her always gracious manner, that it was not important - either way, we were family, and that names did not matter. “We will all become
Kellogg’s
if necessary!” She exclaimed.

Ah, such great times
...

One day, I knew, I would be Nicki Kellogg, and would place the “legend” behind me, retiring “Nicki Redstone” forever...and happily so
.

Supplement

“The Death of Nicki Redstone ”
by Lucy Smith

(Editor’s note: Ms. Smith was a survivor of the Fort Hope tragedy. This document was one of many submitted to the Hedley Weekly on the same topic in the days following the event, as Ms. Smith and others eventually made their way to Hedley. It is included here to offer readers further insight into important events that occurred during the early Recovery Years.)

My name is Lucy Smith. I am not a writer of anything but school lessons (and poetry), but my uncle said it was important to tell everyone what happened, so I am.

I had just turned sixteen on the day our home was destroyed.

You have all heard over and over how our little paradise at Fort Hope was trampled and destroyed by hundreds of horrible, flesh-eating creatures; how they killed and destroyed almost all of us in a living nightmare.

I lost so many friends that night that I cannot bear to think of it. I try to forget the horror and my nervous fear of it all, but I wanted the world to know who tried to help...and succeeded... Yes! - She succeeded, but she died trying. It hurts so to write the words.

It was because of Nicki Redstone that many of us are here in Hedley today.

My Uncle Teddy, myself, and a few others had only just barely escaped our fort home to a nearby slope that everyone knew was a good hiding place. We had almost no ammunition, very few weapons, and we were exhausted and afraid almost to the point of collapse when Nicki Redstone, Brick Charbonneau and Ben appeared, almost as if they were angels sent straight from heaven.

I apologize if I seem emotional about this in my description, but imagine us at the time. We had just escaped an inferno that had been our home, and it still blazed below. The place was swarming with horrible creatures making ghastly, screeching noises that we could still hear, ripping my beloved friends to pieces. I covered my ears to stop the sounds.

Worse yet were the popping noises of an occasional gun, the yells of defiance or pain from the few remaining adults within the fort, and screams of my young cousins as they were sure to see their terrifying deaths approaching. It was oh so horrible!

In the middle of this, Nicki Redstone appeared - she was the first one I saw. It was staggering to see her! She was just there suddenly as it was getting dark,
looking amazingly calm, like something out of an adventure story.

In spite of the horror and tragedy around us, I was shocked and could not speak, like I was watching a movie. The feelings are indescribable, so intense, even now. I knew her instantly. We all loved to listen to updates about her on the radio; they were fantastic adventures to us.

Even if I had never seen her on television before this, I would know her - she looked exactly as I had imagined, only bigger and more beautiful. Her guns and knives; her rifle, the leather jacket and gloves, the long braid, the dagger - even her scar, which I could clearly see in the failing light, a clean slash across her left cheek.

Then I saw Brick and Ben, both equally magnificent, completing an image that I had hoped and prayed to see one day. I never imagined that Brick would be so tall and handsome, his long black hair with one feather, just as we had heard from the Camp Puller radio. Calm - he was all strength and confidence. I believed that he could take on an army of runners by himself.

It was because of Brick, through his courage and strength, that so many of my family and friends made a last minute escape from certain death, while Nicki distracted the mass of attackers. I heard that Brick rejected offers of thanks as he searched frantically that night for Nicki along the water’s edge, as he insisted that Nicki alone was responsible for their survival.

And there was Ben, beautiful and magnificent, the most incredible animal that I had ever seen. He stood by Nicki at all times, alert to her every move; guarding her at each step. I remember his eyes were so bright in the sunset light.

With them were a few small children who, although concerned, did not seem afraid. Given the three who guarded them, I can understand why.

I cannot express to you our disbelief and hope at the sight of these heroes. But it was Nicki Redstone’s serene confidence that struck me. I heard one of my cousins say it was going to be okay now that Nicki Redstone was there...and I believed with all my heart that it would be okay. We all did. Even my uncle Teddy says the same thing.

You cannot imagine what her incredible calm did for all of us. I remember that she looked - for just a moment - down at the horrible things happening in our home, and she did not flinch or wince even once. I could feel the power of her confidence. Indescribable. There was truly something different, something godlike, something that, I think, we would have seen in warrior heroes from history.

We just did not know that Nicki would soon be giving her life for ours, the ultimate sacrifice and a heart-rending tragedy for us all.