The Survivalist - 02 (29 page)

Having served in two wars as an Army Ranger, Mason had been exposed to several forms of torture, including the military’s current favorite, waterboarding. He didn’t know whether covering a man’s face with rags and pouring water over them was as effective as using a car battery to hotwire his testicles, but what he did know was that, once witnessed, torture was not something easily forgotten. The image of the man lying on the bed in Flo’s home, like a pig on the cutting block, was something that threatened to haunt him for the rest of his life.

He had seen countless horrors on the battlefield, but none worse than cannibalism. When he was just a young soldier, his commander had told him that the way to keep from being overwhelmed by the horror was to remember that life was experienced in moments, some comforting and some terrifying. The good ones, he said, were worth reminiscing over, but others needed to be spit upon and buried in dark graves. Such was the case with Flo’s hungry house of horrors. He would lock the memory away so deep that it would never again be allowed to touch his spirit. If ever he did find himself dwelling upon it, he would remind himself that Flo and her boys had been put down like the animals they were. While a fitting end was not enough to right the wrongs, it was sometimes all that could be achieved.

Satisfied with his place in the world once again, he reached over and rubbed Bowie’s belly. The dog gave a high-pitched yawn as it sprawled out on the seat beside him. The bandage on his leg was still white, which meant that the knife wound had already stopped bleeding. With a little care, he would be fine.

“I guess I owe you my life,” he said, patting the dog’s side.

Bowie stared up at Mason with one eye open, as if weighing whether his praise warranted opening the other one.

“I never told you this. But when I found you in that convenience store, I had this feeling that you’d been waiting for me, that our futures were somehow connected. Crazy, right?”

Bowie slid his massive frame closer and raised his head to rest it on Mason’s lap. He had made his decision. Both eyes were now closed.

“Anyway, I’m glad we found one another. I saved you from the gallows, and you saved me from the dinner plate. When we do finally fall, I suspect we’ll do so with empty magazines and the taste of blood in our mouths.”

CHAPTER

27

“Not to be rude,” Samantha said, wrinkling her nose, “but you stink.”

“You’re no bed of roses yourself, Sunshine.”

She sniffed of her shirt.

“We need to get cleaned up. If my mom saw me like this, she wouldn’t even recognize me.”

“We can take showers at the cabin,” said Tanner. “It will be like a five-star hotel compared to what we’ve had lately.”

She looked out the window. The hills were slowly growing in size as they pushed closer to the Blue Ridge Mountains.

“How much farther?”

“A couple of hours. It’s a straight shot from here.” As if on cue, a light started flashing on the Escalade’s dashboard. “Looks like we’re going to need fuel before then. That means we’ll have to stop in Boone either to find gas or switch to another car.”

“No more stops, please.”

“I suppose we could walk the rest of the way.”

She sighed. “Fine. We can find gas, but let’s keep this car.” She patted the seat. “It’s pretty nice.”

Tanner ran his fingers across the smooth leather steering wheel.

“Agreed.”

“What do you think happened to the people who bought it?”

He shrugged. “My guess is they discovered new priorities. Instead of spa treatments and Gucci handbags, they’re probably out looking for cans of beans and bottles of water. Assuming they’re not dead, of course.”

She turned to look back out her window and up into the sky.

“At least we seem to have lost the helicopters.”

“For now, maybe. But, with that bug in your arm, they’ll eventually find us. We’ll have to figure out some way to cut it out.”

The concerned expression on her face said more than words ever could.

“Did you say ‘cut it out?’”

“Just a figure of speech.”

“Cut it out is not a figure of speech. It’s something people say when they’re going to cut something out.”

Tanner started laughing and couldn’t stop. He wasn’t sure if it was Samantha’s dead pan delivery or just the right time to let go of the truckload of stress he had been carrying around. Either way, it felt good.  He finally rolled down the window and let the fresh air calm him.

“You okay?” she asked, eyeing him warily.

He smiled and patted her on the leg.

“Just enjoying the journey.”

“Do you mean that for real? Or is that some kind of Buddhist thing?”

“A little of both.”

She studied him for a moment.

“What?” he said.

“I was just thinking that we’re doing all right—you know.”

“We’re not dead yet, and it isn’t for lack of trying. I guess that’s something.”

“Do you remember when you asked what Libby wrote on her note to me?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

She pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to him.

He read it quietly to himself.

Trust him. He’s earned it.

Tanner smiled and handed it back to her.

She put it back in her pocket and turned to look out the window, pondering things she couldn’t put into words. Samantha never knew it, but the smile never left Tanner’s face as he watched her reflection in the window.

By the time Boone came into view, it was nearly three in the afternoon. The sun was hot and the sky nearly cloudless. They drove in from the south on Highway 321, and one of the first things they saw was a sign for the Watauga County Hospital.

“I wonder . . .” he said.

“What?”

“Do you think they’re up and running?”

“Why would we need a hospital?”

“No reason,” he said, glancing down at her. “But let’s check it out anyway.”

She cut her eyes at him with suspicion.

He turned the Escalade up Deerfield Road toward the hospital. They passed a woman and two young boys holding hands, walking toward the hospital like they didn’t have a care in the world.

“Did you see that?” asked Samantha. “There are people out walking. Not running or hiding, but actually walking.”

He nodded. “They seem to be doing a little better here.”

“Are you kidding? The last town we were in had people sacrificing chickens.”

“Good point,” he said, turning into the parking lot. He grabbed the shotgun and quickly checked it.

“Do you really think you’ll need that here?” she asked.

“Would you rather we go in unarmed?”

She thought about it for a moment.

“No,” she said, grabbing her own rifle. “We should be careful.”

He smiled. His padawan was learning.

As they stepped from the Escalade, a heavyset man wearing priest’s vestments came out of the hospital. He had a jovial face, with puffy red cheeks and a white ring of hair around his scalp, like a halo that had been cut one size too large. He eyed Tanner warily.

“Hello,” he said, extending a hand, “I’m Father Paul. I’m not sure that we’ve met.”

“I’m Tanner,” he said, shaking the man’s hand. “This is Sam.”

The priest smiled and bent over to look at her.

“And how are you, young lady?”

“I stink, but not as bad as him,” she answered.

“I see,” he said, standing back up. “Well then, I have some good news.”

“What’s that?” asked Tanner.

“We have running water here in Boone. A bit of a rarity, I think.”

Both Tanner and Samantha were genuinely surprised. Boone was the first place they had been to that had running water.

“You guys must not have been hit as hard as the rest of the country,” said Tanner.

“On the contrary,” he said. “Just days ago, we were fighting for our lives. Gunfire, explosions, the whole nine yards. It was all very hairy indeed.”

Tanner looked around. Everything seemed peaceful enough now.

“Well, it looks like you won,” he said, starting past the man.

“That we did, thanks to Marshal Raines.”

Tanner stopped in his tracks and spun back to face the priest.

“What did you just say?”

Alarmed by his sudden change in tone, Father Paul took a step back.

“I said that we won our town back with the help of Marshal Raines.”

“Isn’t that—” started Samantha, looking up at Tanner.

A broad smile came over his face.

“You know the marshal then?” the priest said, obviously uncertain if he was in the company of friend or foe. “I should tell you that he’s become a bit of a folk hero around here.”

Tanner extended his hand again.

“Let’s start over, Father. I’m Tanner. Tanner Raines.”

Once it became clear that Tanner was Mason’s father, the priest immediately ushered them into the hospital to meet Ava, Mason’s girlfriend and one of the town’s few remaining doctors. They spent the next hour talking about Mason, the town’s battle against Rommel, and how the city council had helped to get Boone back up and running.

The town now had two huge storage tanks full of water, a soup kitchen that offered evening meals, and a single gas station that provided fuel to verified residents. The gasoline was tightly rationed to prevent abuse, but it allowed people to transport supplies and conduct rudimentary business. The police force was operational as well, led by two brave deputies who had fought in the big gunfight. Retired Police Chief Blue was no longer on the force, but there was talk of electing him as mayor of the small community.

The only part of the conversation that alarmed Tanner was when Ava mentioned that some of the people infected with the virus had also come to the aid of the town during the firefight.

“You must have a different breed than the ones we’ve seen,” he said. “Every single one we’ve encountered was mean as hell.”

Samantha nodded vigorously. “It’s true. They just about ate Tanner in the JC Penney.”

“As big as you are,” Ava said, patting him on the arm, “that would have taken the better part of a week, I imagine.”

Tanner grinned. Ava was not only beautiful; she was fun.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, gathering up supplies, “I’d like to take a look at the cuts on your face. Was that from fighting with them?”

He touched the stitches on his forehead and the scab on the side of his face.

“More or less.”

Samantha leaned forward, eager to explain.

“The first cut happened when he jumped into the slime water. The second one was from the teeth of a zombie. But, don’t worry, he won’t turn into one. We’ve been through that already.”

Ava nodded, carefully cleaning the wounds with gauze and Betadine.

“It sounds like you two have had quite the adventure.”

“Everything from secret agents to wild dogs,” Samantha said with an air of pride.

“Wow, that does sound exciting.” Ava finished by smearing a little antibiotic salve on Tanner’s cuts. Then she turned to face Samantha. “What about you, young lady? Any injuries to report?”

Samantha looked herself over but didn’t find anything more than a few scrapes.

“To be honest,” she said, “I think I’m more careful than him.”

“There is one thing you might be able to help us with,” said Tanner, looking over at Samantha.

She shot a warning look at him, obviously hoping that he wouldn’t say it.

“Sam here has a tracker embedded under her skin.” He turned to her. “Show her, Sam.”

She reluctantly held out her arm and rubbed her fingers over the small bump on her skin. Ava and Father Paul both studied it.

“What in the world is that?” asked the priest.

“Like I said, it’s some kind of radio tracker. It allows people to find her, people that we’d rather avoid.”

“I’ve see things like this in animals, but never people,” said Ava. “Why would anyone put this in a child?”

Tanner looked over at Samantha.

“Want to tell them?”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

“We don’t have to,” he said, sensing her reluctance.

“No, no, it’s okay.” She looked up at Ava. “My mom’s the President.”