The Last Blade Of Grass (19 page)

Donald, his son Joshua, and Timothy Weyland, hide by the truck that they and several others managed to get turned on its side near the entrance to the property. It looks as if the truck got knocked over by the hoard while someone was trying to escape. They are ducked down behind the truck bed and shouldn’t be seen by anyone coming in, unless they drive around it.

We have people behind all the windows in the house and have a few people scattered in groups of two in various outbuildings. Daniel, Conner, and Arthur are with me. Hannah returns from her task of explanation and nods at me before taking her position behind us.

“Where are they?” Conner asks. “If they were coming here they should already be here by now, shouldn’t they?”

“We don’t know what the roads are like,” Daniel replies. “There could be snow drifts, fallen branches or trees, and maybe even some of the infected that they sent after us still out on the road.”

*

Two pickup trucks make the turn down the lane and slowly drive up to the entrance. They stop not too far from the fallen gate, and several people from the bed of each truck hop out as we continue to silently watch from our hiding spots. If they would look closely at the house and fence with binoculars or a scope, it’s possible they would see some of us, but fortunately they are too fixated with the road and gate.

“They couldn’t have driven over this gate lying here,” a man says loudly to his buddies. “And look at that truck on its side. They probably tried to run for it and got caught.”

Several of the men cheer, and another says, “Looks like your plan finally worked Chad! We got ’em!”

The passenger of the lead truck opens his door and stands in the doorway to talk. “Move that damn gate so we can drive in, you morons. And maybe we should see if any supplies are left before we go celebrating any victory.”

So we know these are the people that tried to kill us and where their leader is. The trick is capturing some of them without losing anybody. They have fifteen guys with them. Three in the first truck cab, and two in the second cab, with five men that were in each truck bed. Four of the men from the back of the first truck moved the fallen gate out of the way and are walking along side the truck as it drives in. The last man in the back is someone that needs to be shot first. He is standing in the bed holding his rifle and seems more aware of his surroundings than everyone else. He is the dangerous one of their group.

They stop their trucks a little past the house and about twenty yards away from us. All of them get out of their vehicles, except for the man still standing in the truck bed. He is eyeing the house and our hiding spot. Only the three guys behind the overturned truck are to the south of these men, the rest of us are to the north, so I’m hoping that those three will take the first shots, and right when I think it, the first shots ring out.

It feels like Donald, Josh, and Tim read my mind with the timing of their shooting. They couldn’t really aim from their position, but they still knocked one man down. The rest of our invaders take cover behind their trucks with their backs facing us and start unloading on the overturned truck.

The truck bed shooter erupts in red blossoms and falls over as several of us choose to shoot him first. Eight of the remaining men are also shot to death when they turn with their guns to see who is shooting at them from behind. That leaves five of the bastards that have the intelligence to put their hands up since they know they are surrounded. The men that we let live for now are three from the cab of the first truck and two from the second. The man on the south side of the truck that got shot by Donald’s group is screaming in pain.

“Daniel you’re up,” I tell him, since he’s the former sheriff’s deputy.

“Put your guns down slowly, and put your hands on your head!” he calls out. “If you fail to comply you will be shot.” They all comply.

“Now each of you walk backward ten steps and drop down to your knees.”

I painfully get off my own knees, hating my aging body, but glad that I’m still alive, and walk up to the men we captured. Everyone else from around house and behind our turned over truck comes out to see who did this to us.

“Chad,” I say and shake my head. “I guess I should have killed you instead of turning you away that first day.” He is shaking and has wet his pants. Next to Chad is the man that was giving orders to everyone. I want to speak to their boss, but the wounded man’s yelling is too much to ignore. “Bring that injured guy over here!” I yell, and Donald and Tim carry him by the arms over to us.

“Are you the one in charge of this group?” I ask while pointing at the man calling the shots earlier.

All I get back is a sarcastic, “Yeah why?” with a sneer on his face.

I motion to Donald and Tim to bring over the wounded man and set him down on his knees facing his boss. He has been shot in the stomach and arm, and is in a tremendous amount of pain. I step behind this wounded man and stare at the boss in the eyes, while holding his man upright by the hair. I draw my knife with my right hand and slice the man’s throat so his blood sprays on the boss’ face.

“I don’t like your sarcasm,” I say and drive my knife down through the boss’ intertwined fingers and into his skull, killing him.

My group is shocked so much by what I’ve done that they don’t react as one of the captured men jumps up screaming and starts running away. I swivel my gun on its sling and shoot the man three times in the back as he tries to make his escape. And turn back to the remaining three captives. “You bastards have killed some very good people on my ranch, and I will make sure you pay for what you have done. The three of you won’t get off as easy as the rest of your friends here.”

I say that last part with complete and fierce sincerity, because I mean it. These three will not just die, they will suffer. I will make them beg for death before I am through with them for what they have done. And not just for the people that they killed, but for what they did to Hannah and to Jake and all of the other young people we have here on the ranch. They made my daughter feel genuine hate, and from her hate arises my vengeance.

“Take this one to the stable and tie him up so he is standing,” I say pointing to Chad, the former reporter. “And take these two over by the bodies. Tie them up, lay them down, and bury them with the dead.”

“You can’t just bury us alive!” one of them yells and tries to get up. Arthur kicks him in the back and knocks him down.

“Keep their heads free so they can breathe, but make sure enough bodies are on them to make breathing difficult. I’m going to ask the three of you some questions, and the person that I feel is the most helpful I will set free. The other two will be tortured indefinitely.”

I look at Arthur, and tell him, “Get it done.” And the men are dragged off to their assigned locations by six of our people, while I step over to the former boss, and work my knife free from his skull.

“Eddie. What are you doing?” Rachel asks, shaking with tears streaming from her eyes. “I’m scared.”

I look at her and can’t help but give an intense stare that makes her step back away from me. “What, Rachel? What did you expect?” I snap at her and look around at everyone else. “Less than thirty minutes ago you were cheering with my twelve year old daughter that all of these people should be killed. I heard you say none of them should live, just like Hannah did. Did you think we would let them choose how they died or maybe give them a lethal injection? They made this a war, and war is supposed to be ugly. This is what it means to kill. Killing is violent, cruel, and heartless, and none of you should cheer the killing of other people, but when people need to die, you better be ready to do it.

“I’m sorry if my choosing not to waste any more of our precious bullets on these scumbags offended you in some way, but they needed to die and the three we captured need to speak. We have to find out where their base of operations is and if there are any more of them out there. For us to find that out, these men need to know that I am willing to do anything to them in order to get the answers that I want. Killing their buddies the way I did helped me get closer to what I need. I am not going to play nice and risk the lives of anyone on my land! So you people need to understand, I will torture and kill anyone I have too to make sure we have no more outside threats.”

Simone walks up to me and takes my hand, pulling me toward the house. “Let’s get you cleaned up a bit, Eddie,” she says, following with a smile and a nod.

*

I wash off the blood from my face and hands, and change my shirt. I’m still angry. I look at myself in the mirror and just stare at the lines of hate and pain on my face. I don’t want to let anything go, and worse, I don’t think I should. My mother is dead. A bunch of good people and innocent children are dead because of these guys, and I want them to suffer. I don’t want them to have a quick end and have everything over for them.

“Are you okay?” Simone asks from behind me.

“No.”

She just stands and waits.

“I’m not going to just scare them. I’m going to make them suffer. Even if I get the answers I need, they are going to feel pain like they never knew was possible. All of our people are going to see me as a monster, Simone. They’ll see me as a monster because that’s what I am now. I know what I want to do to them, and it feels good thinking about it. I look forward to seeing and hearing those men in pain.”

“You’re keeping us alive, Eddie. Everyone knows that and if anyone disagrees with how you do it then they can leave.” She pauses a moment before adding, “Honestly, I think most of them would do the same if given the chance.”

My wife has always been unusually understanding of things. I don’t think I would have gone as far with the survival supplies and even the store if she didn’t encourage me. Whenever I would start to think that I am being just a bit too paranoid about this collapse scenario, or that disaster plan, she would get me going again. It’s like she always knows what to say to keep me on the path I am heading. I remember several times after personal inventories and telling her the immense amount of guns and ammunition we had stockpiled, she asked me if we had enough, and she wasn’t being sarcastic like most wives would be. She always thought we should have more food, guns, ammo, and medical supplies. And today when I say I am about to go too far, she looks at me, and says, “You will never be able to hurt them enough for what they have done Eddie… but I want you to try.”

*

Walking through the living room, most of the group is sitting down in silence. Several are asleep. It will take weeks for all of us to recover from the emotional drain we’ve been through so far. Eleanor stands up as I approach, and I stop walking, expecting to hear some plea for compassion or saving my own humanity.

“Arthur left and wanted me to tell you where everyone is,” she says. “Conner and Samantha are taking turns running the tractor and have started clearing bodies to a pile at the east fence. Arthur is out with them helping to stand guard and keep an eye out for any of our people’s bodies. If we can find them during the clean-up, we will bury them. Donald, and his son, Joshua, are keeping watch over the two men covered by bodies in the yard. Jake and Hannah are keeping watch over the man tied up in the stable. And Brian and Melissa are on the roof again keeping watch and listening for anyone or anything else. They will let us know if any infected come back to the property.”

“Thank you, Eleanor,” I say relieved for not having to argue with her, and she sits down as I take a step.

“Eddie?” The voice is Patricia Langford’s, and I stop and drop my head before turning around.

“Eddie. We all know you have to get answers from these people. Just don’t lose yourself while you do it. They will be judged for what they have done once they die.”

“Patricia….” I stop and take a deep breath. “It is very difficult for me to be respectful toward you right now, and you do deserve respect and compassion even without the loss you are dealing with. I am an Atheist, you know this. There is no afterlife, there is no forgiveness. And no punishment or judgment takes place after people die. There is no higher purpose to the deaths that occurred here today, ours or theirs. The only retribution these men will face is what I put them through. When they die, their suffering and their joy will all be over, just like those people we lost.”

“But you have to believe in something, Eddie. Why else would you want so desperately to live?”

“I want to live because life is all that I have. You religious people don’t seem to understand what life means to an Atheist. Life is more beautiful and precious for an Atheist because we have only one. You, you think you will go to heaven. That this life is just a trial run and something better exists than what is here. I know this is my only existence, so I cherish it, and want it to last forever. I wonder why people like you want to live when you think there is something better than this.”

“There has to be something better than this,” Rebecca Anderson says holding onto her daughter Rachel.

“For me there isn’t. It is just this, but even this disaster of a world is better than not existing. Even with the pain of loss, there is still life to cling to. I have my wife and kids. You have your husband and daughter. In a way we all lost everything we thought we couldn’t live without, but if you look around, we still have everything and everyone around us that make life worth living, if only for one more day. All I need is a blade of grass,” I say and look at Simone before walking out the door.