900 Miles (Book 2): 900 Minutes Page 21

  In the end, I decided the best way for me to protect my son was to make sure none of the monsters outside our gate would ever get in to hurt him. Giving him an extra kiss on the cheek, I held Tyler as close as I could, feeling his soft skin against my own.

  Deanna was kind enough to give me my moment, but she eventually waved slightly, signaling that it was time to go. With a deep breath, I gave him up. She took him with a gentle bounce, and then told him that she had his medicine for him. After asking Olivia to make sure to take care of Tyler for me, and watching her eyes glow at the idea of helping out, Kyle and I followed Richards into the hall.

  Minutes later, we entered the bunkroom, which was lined with bunk beds and small closets. It’s where most people slept at Avalon, and I remember thinking that I was damn lucky not to be stuck in there.

  As I followed Richards down a line of bunks, I didn’t like the strange look on his face. Like he wanted to smile, but was too afraid to. I couldn't quite read it.

  "You know whose bunk this is?”he asked as we stopped.

  Looking to the neatly folded, military-style covers, with a three-inch fold at the top, I did. I knew exactly whose bunk it was.

  "It's Rodgers’s bunk," I replied, just barely under my breath.

  "You're right.”He paused for a moment.“Do me a favor, and look in that bag under the bed. We discovered it just minutes before you arrived.”

  Cocking my head, I shot him a look that asked, "Really" as he nodded his head yes.

  "It's right under there. The green duffle bag.”

  Kneeling down on all fours, I reached down to grab the cotton handle of the worn, unassuming bag, and slid it out from underneath the darkness of the bed.

  "Go ahead, open it," Kyle prompted.

  Reaching my right hand down, I started sliding the zipper as Richards explained that a little boy had discovered it while they were prepping the room for the battle. At first, his mother had started to scold him, telling him to stop touching everything, as little boys have a tendency to do.

  "That's when I saw what it was," Richards finished, as I pulled the bag open.

  With my eyes going wide, I couldn't believe what I was looking at. It was all there. Every last bit of the medicine from the med center. Every last canister of the meds Tyler needed. They didn't go up in flames.

  "Do you see the note?" Richards asked, as I sat there on my knees speechless.

  Shaking my head no, I dug my hand into the bag and swished it around, before finding a neatly sealed envelope with the name "John" written in black pen across the outside.

  Richards shrugged. "I didn't feel right opening it."

  Sliding my finger through the paper edge, I ripped the top open and pulled a yellow piece of folded paper out. Cautiously unfolding it, I could see one short but concise note.

  I may be a bastard, but I'm not the kind of bastard that would kill a kid.–Rodgers

  Handing the note up to Kyle, I waited for him to read it.

  "I don't know what to think,”I finally said as his eyes lifted from the page.

  "I guess we think that he's not a total dick," Kyle replied, with a scowl growing across his face as he realized that he spoke about Rodgers as if he was still alive.

  Pausing, my mind shot to the look of horror in Rodgers’ eyes as I pulled the trigger.

  Speaking more to myself, I said, "Yeah, I guess he wasn’t…”

  I’ll never really know what was going through his mind, the mind of a man who teetered on the edge of sanity. A man who just might have had a last-minute sense of regret before he led us to what should have been certain torture, death…or worse. In the end, there must have been some tiny bit of humanity left in that scrambled brain. Too bad, dead men aren’t able to speak beyond a grumbled moan.

  Sometimes when I’m alone, captured in my own memories, I think back to that green duffle bag and Rodgers’s note. I always ponder the same question: Why?

  After a short silence that nearly filled the entire bunkroom, Kyle finally pushed his shoulders out and said,“Let’s get topside, men. We have a war to win.”

  He was right. It was time to prepare for battle.

  Chapter 28

  Only children believe that what they do in battle is who they are as men.

  I was standing in a filthy mud, the kind that would never completely come out of my fresh body armor. Well, fresh to me anyway. It had a cracked bullet hole in the right chest plate, no doubt from the last guy who had worn it. I could only hope that I’d have more luck than he did.

  The sky had erupted with a pounding rainstorm before we had returned, making the Yard look and feel like the sludge one would find in a pigsty, as everybody frantically darted back and forth within the protection of the outside walls. Digging the tip of my boot into the filth, I looked up, listening intently to the wind blowing. Dark clouds slowly crept by, seemingly interested in being witness to the battle brewing below.

  Moving my right hand across my belt to make sure the hammer was firmly in place, I momentarily thought about Tyler, buried deep underground with the rest of the inhabitants who were unable to fight. I knew that he would be safe with Deanna and Claire, who were hunkered down in my living quarters. With a thick steel blast door, it would be the best place for them to wait this out.

  Watching the people assisting each other around the Yard reminded of what we were doing here; more importantly, why we were ready to fight. Protecting a way of life that the rest of the world had long since forgotten. It would be what was worth fighting for…ultimately worth killing for.

  On that day, I knew I’d have to honor that promise I’d made to my wife. It was the promise to keep my son safe in a world of shit, and I knew I’d be doing it with blood. Shaking the cold sweat from my body, I shuddered at the thought of what that really meant.

  Many of us wouldn’t make it, that much was clear. Mostly made up of the lucky, not the brave, our small group of sixty-three men and women who were able to fight, weren’t ready for the firestorm that was about to hit. Of course, we had planned for an attack: constant drilling, constant preparation. However, nothing could have prepared us for what was coming. The odds were too well stacked against us.

  We knew this wasn’t simply our second chance to keep Gordon from running Avalon. It would be our last. There wasn’t a person standing at Jarvis’s side who didn't understand that. In a boxing match, the most dangerous type of person is the one who is backed into the corner ropes. Seemingly, at their weakest, that person knows they have nothing to lose. They are willing to try anything, willing to do whatever it takes to get out of that spot.

  Avalon was our corner.

  With mud sloshing up over his feet as he walked up next to me, Kyle kicked his boot into the air.

  “They could have picked a better day to pull this shit, huh? I’ve got mud all over my new boots.”

  Knowing that he was trying to crack a joke to calm me down, I flashed a pathetic smile and replied,“Yeah, very inconsiderate of them.”

  Kyle had been here before. He’d faced off against enemy forces while in the Army, and he’d lived to see another day. I hadn’t ever been in a battle the size of this, and couldn’t stop my knees from shaking.

  Looking along the top of the concrete walls, Kyle appeared to be inspecting the men stationed at the recently built crenellations lining the entire perimeter. There was a look in his face that told me he seemed pleased with the fact that he had pushed all of us to finish them, despite the blazing summer heat a few months back.

  At the time, he had explained that crenellations were what gave archers protection while they defended their medieval castles. Ours stood three feet high, were placed every couple of feet, and at the very least would give our gunmen something to hide behind when the bullets started flying. Today, we’d need it more than ever.

  “See you shaved,”Kyle said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.“Not trying to impress anybody special, are you?”

  Reaching up to my smoot
h chin, I laughed a bit but didn’t answer. The truth of the matter was that I was prepared to die that day, and I was going to do it with some dignity. There was a different person looking back at me in the mirror when I’d first returned to my chambers to change into the new armor. He looked more broken, more beaten down than I’d remembered. I shaved some of that pain away, and it helped. However, I still couldn’t manage to shake all of the horrors from the past twenty-four hours out of my mind.

  I never will.

  Turning toward my friend, I hesitated, and then said,“I can’t get the vision of Rodgers’s face out of my head. I killed him…a person, not a Z. Maybe he was right. Maybe he knew that if we were ever really pushed, we’d fall just as far as the rest of the world.”

  Kyle turned to me, his face serious, and put his hand on my shoulder.“Only children believe that what they do in battle is who they are as men.”

  Letting that hang there in the air, he looked up at the clouds then back down to meet my face.“Just remember, John, the true measure of a man is not what they take from this world, but what they give it.”

  As I stood there, I realized that this might have been the most profound thing he’d ever said to me. I reached out and shook his hand.“It’s been an honor to call you my friend.”

  Once again, meeting my eyes, he squeezed firmly and replied,“Likewise, John. Likewise.”

  Pausing for a moment, looking over his shoulder at all the people getting ready for battle, he cracked a smile.“Let’s not act like we’re dead yet, buddy. We’ve all got something to live for. Besides, big bad ol’Gordon out there has forgotten the golden rule. The house always wins.”

  My attention was pulled to a man dressed in the same black body armor as Kyle and me. It was Jarvis, limping ever so slightly. He didn’t let his leg slow him down as he barked out directions and orders. Positioning people around the Yard, he had everybody at work on defenses, offenses. Hell, he even had people filling up our vehicles with our small stockpile of fuel in case we needed to escape.

  Jarvis had us putting all the right pieces on the board in place, and we were doing it without question. The whole of Avalon believed in the man. We’d follow him to the grave if we had to.

  He was standing at the top of the concrete wall overlooking the field when his eyes were averted to something in the distance. We weren’t terribly close to him, but I could see that he was squinting, like he was trying to figure out what the hell the opposing force was putting together.

  From the chopper in the sky, Kyle had estimated that there were at least a hundred men on their side, which wasn’t the part that scared the hell out of me. For some reason, the wooden boxes seemed like the wild card that Gordon was carefully hiding up his sleeve.

  We had heard a few gunshots while the force held the tree line. However, there’d been nothing for quite a while, and they’d been standing out there for over two hours, just waiting.

  Kyle called up to Jarvis,“What are they doing with the Zs?”

  Keeping his eye on the field, Jarvis shouted back“Not sure, boys. It’s quite odd. They’re simply boxing them up in what appears to be wooden cages. They’re collecting them.”

  Kyle looked over at me.“That doesn’t sound good…at all.”

  He glanced around the Yard, as if to make sure we were all set. Then his eyes fell on the setting sun, mostly hidden behind the ominous clouds still creeping by.

  “It’s getting dark. Not too long before it’s pitch black.”

  Kyle went on to explain that Gordon’s men were probably holding at the tree line because it was out of firing range from most anything, aside from long distance sniper rifles. Glancing at his watch, and then surveying our Yard, he clenched his fist and said,“It’s nearly time.”

  8:57 - Gordon’s self-prescribed poetic justice was almost upon us. That exact hour and minute that Jarvis had seized Avalon from Gordon all those months ago. It was no mistake that Gordon’s army would be cloaked in darkness when the second hand hit twelve on that final minute. Easier to move in on us. Easier to get close to the wall without detection.

  Crackling in the distance, the squelch from a loudspeaker sliced through the tension in the air.

  “Avalonians. I said, Avalonians!”The words banged through the air, bouncing around within our walls like a nightmarish pinball, causing the whole lot of us to transform instantly into statue images of ourselves.

  Shaking my head, I darted to the wall, sticking my face to a narrow crack, which allowed me to see the field. I knew who it was. Gordon, the bastard, had pulled up into the field in our bright yellow Hummer. He was taunting us with a reminder that he’d already taken us once.

  With the Hummer turned at an angle and the door open, he stood cautiously hidden from anybody willing to try to take a shot in his direction. Standing just outside of the Hummer on the foot rail, all I could see of him was a funnel-like loudspeaker and the tip of that damn red beret bouncing ever so slightly just behind the top of the door.

  “Jarvis, I know you’re in there. Let’s talk this over, old friend.”

  Kyle and I made eye contact. Wondering how he knew we had returned, I could only think of Aidan. Some part of me hoped the kid was OK.

  Raising his arms, and pointing his cane behind him, Gordon continued.“Jarvis, we have more men, more vehicles, more helicopters, and enough artillery to get in there without breaking a sweat. We’re coming in. You know it and I know it.”Pausing to look back at his men with what I imagined was a smile, Gordon lowered his head, looking at us from under his eyebrows as he mocked,“The question is, are we going to do this hard, or are we going to do it real hard?”

  Hitting the button on the microphone held up to his lips, Jarvis cleared his throat and called out,“You’ll not take Avalon, Gordon. You and I both know this won’t end well for either of us.”

  Shaking his head, as if he’d expected a different answer, Gordon spoke with a hint of sarcasm in his voice,“I was hoping you would see reason,”

  Pausing for a moment, letting the tension in the Yard build, Gordon finally called back out,“I’ve got a proposition for all of you Avalonians!”

  Looking across our tiny group, I could see each of them hanging on his every word.

  Gordon continued,“Anybody willing to drop your arms and give up Avalon right now will be allowed to stay. You’ll work, but you’ll be alive. Just remember, there’s a version of this conversation where you get to survive the night.”

  Letting that hang there for a moment, he lowered his voice and spoke one final thing.“This is my final offer. You’ve got ninety seconds to decide.”

  Glancing amongst the crowd, I could see heads moving from side to side, as if each of us was looking for someone to step out to accept defeat. For a moment, I half-expected it, but Jarvis didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t even flinch or look back at our group, for that matter. In his mind, we were taking this to the end.

  After a solid minute and a half of silence, Gordon realized his offer would be unmet. I remember thinking that it really was a true testament to what we were fighting for…each other.

  Before the Hummer shifted into gear and started backing up to join the rest of the madmen at the tree line, Gordon simply said,“It’s been a good run, old friend.”

  Looking down at the concrete he was crouched upon, Jarvis sat there collecting his thoughts. It must have been nearly impossible to make the decision to put so many people’s lives on the line.

  From behind me, a voice emerged from the crowd. Someone had cracked.

  I sure as hell knew his face. Not because he was a great fighter or leader of any sort, but because I’d seen it plastered across any number of trash magazine covers prior to the apocalypse. I think he’d dated a famous singer or pop star, had an illegitimate baby with her or cheated on her, or some other crazy headline. He had long hair that even now looked like it was well conditioned.

  All things said he was used to having people look at and listen to him. Eyes alwa
ys watching. People always following. Guess he felt like it was time to cash in on some of that celebrity credit.

  Crawling atop a broken-down car in the middle of the courtyard, Mr. Trash raised his voice loud enough to be heard by those of us scattered throughout the interior of the walls. Calling out cries for retreat, surrender, submission. I nearly shit myself as I watched a few others slowly circling around him, nodding their heads as he spoke.

  “It’s not too late. There are at least a hundred armed soldiers who are going to rush in here with God knows how many of the Zs…all intent on killing us. How can we possibly survive this?”

  Someone else from the crowd, a woman dressed in a black leather coat spoke up.“What choice do you think we have? Are we just going to give up? What do you think they'll do with us? Tous?”

  Mr. Trash screamed out,“Whatever it is, at least we’ll have a chance to live. We can negotiate with him. Maybe even find a way to work together, and live in harmony. I for one want to live!”

  The woman didn’t respond, and just looked up toward Jarvis. I followed her gaze and saw Jarvis looking down at the crowd. He was silent, listening to the discussion. I could tell he was waiting for everybody to simmer down before he spoke.

  Then, just like that, Jarvis raised his head, and stood a little taller than I’d seen him do in the past. He was getting ready to give the speech to rally us. The one that would pull us together. He was getting ready to lay it all on the line to tell us how we needed to fight as a group and that we’d make it out of this alive. We would prevail. We would be victorious.

  A man can go a lifetime without making a serious mistake. Making all the right moves. Doing all the right things. However, standing one inch too high or one inch too far to the right…it only takes one tiny error for it all to come to an end.