The Last Mile Trilogy Page 12

  “What’s this?” she whispered.

  “Slow,” Jeb told her, wound down his window and extended his arm as a signal to H-2 to slow down. “Stop here.”

  “Why?” Robi asked.

  “Please.”

  Curious, she glanced at him as her foot depressed the brake. “You said, please?”

  “Yeah,” he said eyes focused on the truck as he, grabbed the binoculars and opened the door.

  “What do you see?”

  “Give me a second.” Jeb leaned on the door and raised the binoculars. “This is fucked up. What happened …?”

  Before he could finish his sentence, a shot rang out, and ricocheted off the door.

  With a wave of his hand to send H-2 back, Jeb quickly jumped in H-1 as another bullet seared by. “Back it up! Fast!”

  Robi threw it in reverse. “Where?”

  “Into the brush off the road!” Jeb said as looked behind them. “And floor it.”

  Robi did. They sped back and off the road. H-2 did the same.

  “What now?” Robi asked.

  “Get down? Everyone, get down!” Jeb instructed and grabbed his M-16. “Hold tight.” He opened the door slightly. “Who the fuck is firing at us? A dead fuckin’ world and someone …”

  Robi screamed.

  Her door flew open and a hand reached in, yanked her by the hair and pulled her out.

  “Jeb!” Nick cried out. “My mom.”

  More perturbed than worried, Jeb grabbed his revolver and took aim on the man who held Robi. “Tell me you’re fuckin’ nuts right now!” Jeb blasted at the man.

  Robi fought and squirmed, but his hold on her was tight and she was unable to break free despite her kicks and turns.

  “Hold fuckin’ still,” Jeb ordered, “so I can blast him.”

  The man laughed. “You people just think you can take over, don’t you. Huh? Well, you ain’t getting by us.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Jeb asked, annoyed. “Robi ... tilt your head.”

  Robi did. Before the man could react, Jeb fired a single shot. It seared directly into his forehead. He released Robi as he fell to the ground.

  Robi scurried to the truck and grabbed her weapon.

  “Everyone stay down!” Jeb ordered. “Nick, don’t get out. Grab the baby.”

  “Got it.”

  “Tate!” Jeb shouted. “What do we got?”

  Belly down, on the grade of the road, Tate raised the binoculars. “Hiding behind the over turned truck, I see ten. Yeah, looks like ten men with guns…” Tate turned and looked at Jeb, “Aiming at us.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with these people?” Jeb shook his head. “I’m not dealing with this shit. Get me the 203.”

  “On it.” In a low run, Tate made his way to H-2, ignored the questions asked by Manny and Bishop, grabbed the weapon and hurried back to Jeb. “Here. Already loaded.”

  “Thanks. Stay back and take care of them and make sure no more of the idiots are sneaking back here. I’ll be back.”

  From her protective cover behind H-1 Robi asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Ending this,” Jeb said as he started to crawl forward.

  “They don’t want us here. Why don’t we just turn around and go?”

  Jeb stopped. He peered over his shoulder at Robi. “That has got to be the most passive fucking thing I ever heard. No. You didn’t see what’s in that over turned truck. I did.” Saying no more, he continued forward until he was in range. Out of sight, Jeb lifted up just enough to aim his weapon.

  He fired.

  The weapon ‘popped’ and with a whistle sailed a canister through the air. It landed with precision on the other side of the over turned truck and exploded with a hiss of steam.

  Tate lifted the binoculars. “They’re running … they’re running … too late …” He smiled. “They’re dropping. Dropping … oh, yeah, reminds me of a certain day.”

  Jeb set down the weapon and waved his hand. “Tate, you stay back until I call. Bishop!”

  Surprised at the call of his name, Bishop poked his head around the Humvee door. “Me?”

  “Um, yeah,” Jeb responded. “Since I heard you’re the next best shot, grab a weapon. Come with me.”

  “Cool.” Bishop grabbed a gun, courtesy of Tate, and joined Jeb.

  Robi watched the two men, still low, make their way to the overturned truck. She then moved to Tate. “Tell me he didn’t kill them men.”

  “Nah,” Tate answered while watching his brother through the lenses. “Gassed them. Put them out. They’ll be that way for a good hour.”

  “Won’t the gas hurt him and Bishop?”

  Tate squinted is face in thought. “If they don’t hang back until it dissipates.”

  “How long?” Robi asked.

  “A few minutes. It’s clearing now … yeah. They’re good. They’re there.” He set down the binoculars. “They’re at the truck.”

  “What’s in that truck, Tate?” Robi asked.

  “Take a look.” Tate handed her the binoculars. “Hope you have a strong stomach.”

  Robi took the binoculars and raised them to her eyes.

  First it was body parts and then Bishop added vomit when he regurgitated upon seeing the bloodbath.

  From what Jeb could estimate, it looked as if there at least twenty people had died in the back of that farm truck; their bodies were so bullet strewn they were literally in shreds.

  Deduction and the evidence he found as he surveyed the scene told Jeb a small explosive had overturned the vehicle, and then the raid had commenced. The driver and front seat passenger were burned beyond recognition. But it wasn’t a truck fire. Blow torch, Jeb guessed.

  He stood thoughtfully staring at the scene.

  Bishop wiped the vomit from his mouth and made his way over to Jeb once he felt confident he wouldn’t throw up again. Voice muffled from his shirt over his face, Bishop asked, “How can you stand here and stare at this?”

  “I can’t.” Jeb answered. “I’m just trying to make heads or tails out of what happened and why.”

  “Can you?”

  “Probably not.” Jeb shook his.

  “God, all these people.”

  “No, kids though. That’s a good thing. I couldn’t stomach that,” Jeb said.

  “How many do you think are here?”

  “Twenty, twenty five. I tried counting legs but …” Jeb paused when Bishop gagged loudly, “You OK?”

  Bishop nodded.

  Jeb continued, “Look at this.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Not a recognizable face. Please don’t gag. Unless our murderers robbed them, they had very little personal belongings. No luggage, no boxes, couple of duffle bags.”

  “Why do you think our murderers didn’t rob them?”

  Jeb tapped his boot against the blood. “It’s still damp. Just happened. Maybe half hour ago.”

  “Could have been us.”

  “Would have been us. These people weren’t prepared. Look at them. Not one of them were very big, average people. They’re all dressed in jeans …” Jeb tilted his head, “from all I can tell. Simple. No weapons. So why? Why were they killed?”

  “Maybe our murderers had that strain of virus that made them go mad. Robi said she’s seen it.”

  “Maybe.” Jeb sighed out heavily. “Shame.”

  “Dude.” Bishop chuckled.

  “Dude?”

  “This is like a really sensitive side of you. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.”

  “Hey, I’m a sensitive guy …” Jeb paused “Sometimes.”

  “What now?” Bishop asked.

  “You know what? We can’t be that low on gas. I saw a sign on the highway.”

  “Yeah, next station is about twenty miles.”

  “That’s not bad. We can make it. We have that spare can if we needed it …” Jeb gave a motion twitch of his head, “let’s just head back before those assholes wake up.”

 
; “We’re just gonna let them go?”

  “We can’t arrest them. We aren’t the law,” Jeb said. “We just move on.”

  Both men turned.

  Two feet from the carnage, a voice called out, male, but thin sounding, weak.

  “Hinna hume munna da.”

  Both men stopped.

  Quizzically, Jeb looked at Bishop. “What the hell?”

  Bishop turned around. “It came from back there.”

  Again, the voice shouted, this time more interpretable. “Go do not. Me help! I prisoner am.”

  Jeb didn’t have a clue what the man said, but he picked up the two words ‘help’ and ‘prisoner.’ After mumbling “fuckin’ foreigners,” he started to move toward the caller.

  “Wait.” Bishop reached out. “What if it’s a trap?”

  “If you were gonna set up a trap would you pretend to be foreign?”

  “How do you know the trapper isn’t?”

  “Only one way to find out,” Jeb said walking around the truck. “You coming?”

  “Why not.” After holding up a finger to Robi and the others, Bishop squeamishly walked around the massacre truck and followed Jeb.

  As soon as Jeb cleared the overturned truck, he looked around for the caller, but didn’t see anyone.

  “Call out again,” Jeb ordered. “We can’t see you.”

  “Here up. Me help!” cried the voice.

  Jeb scanned. Finally he saw him. At the gas station about a block ahead, a figure was hogtied and hanging from the telephone pole. “Fuck.”

  “Holy shit!” Bishop commented. “What do we do?”

  “What else?” Jeb responded. “I don’t know how, but we get him down. Maybe he can tell us why this happened.”

  “And if not …” Bishop pointed to the scattered bodies of those gassed, “what about them?”

  “What about them?”

  “Are they dead?”

  “No, out,” Jeb answered.

  “Then maybe one of them can tell you why. Because I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell would like to know the reason behind slaughtering a truck full of people.”

  Job nodded. “You got a point. Let’s see what pole man has to say first.”

  <><><><>

  Tate laughed when he saw the man hanging from the pole. It was a short instinctive laugh which was accompanied by, “Man, that reminds me of early college days.”

  Then he helped Jeb get the man down. Cut and drop—pretty much.

  He was dirty, face smeared with blood and grease. A few bruises graced his face and chest from being stoned. Hung from the pole and stoned. The rocks, multitudes of them were spread about. It was a wonder he had survived.

  The man was little, maybe five foot two. His age was hard to tell, his face was smooth and lineless. He had no hair, but carried himself maturely. He wore farmer jeans and a red plaid buttoned shirt.

  While Tate kept watch on the slumbering slaughterers, Jeb, Robi and the others tended to the newbie.

  “Mas,” he said. “Name is my. Water I thank you.” He took the cup and gulped it.

  Nick snickered. “He speaks like the guy in the Star Wars movie.”

  “Nah,” Bishop disagreed. “He spoke more in passive voice. He speaks like a foreigner who didn’t learn the language fully.”

  “Ah.” Mas nodded with a smile. “Yes. True. Land am I new to. Refreshed. Better feel I.” He handed the water to Robi.

  “How do you feel?” Robi asked. “How badly do you hurt?”

  Mas peeked through the buttons of his shirt. “Heal I will fast. Sore I am not. Thanks many. Kind are you so.”

  Jeb, tired of waiting, intervened. “What happened? Why were you hanging from a pole? Why were the people in the truck shot? I’m assuming that …” Jeb stopped when the stranger held up his hand. “What?”

  “Understand not I can. Question time at a one,” Mas said. “Please?”

  Jeb looked confused.

  Nick nodded. “I got this one. He doesn’t understand. One question at a time.”

  “Oh.” Jeb understood. “Fine. Mas. All those people killed, were you with them?”

  Mas nodded sadly. “Friends. Family of my. Travel we together. Upset here, town far not. Come strangers. Hell all to went.”

  Nick interpreted, “Family and friends, they traveled together until the strangers came and all went to hell.”

  Jeb gave a look to Nick that conveyed he’d picked that up. Jeb continued his questioning. “So you were in the town down the road?”

  “Yes,” Mas said.

  “Since the drop?” Jeb questioned but seeing the look of confusion on Mas’ face, clarified, “Since everyone dropped dead on the earth?”

  “Yes. Arrive here we did. Stayed. Hunter 23 communicate. There head we soon.”

  “Lost me.” Jeb tossed his hands. “Hunter 23?”

  “Map?” Mas asked.

  Robi quickly retrieved a map from the Humvee and gave it to Mas.

  Mas opened it and indicated Southern California. “Hunter 23. Communicate. Constantly. Go there we soon.”

  Rob took back the map. “So-Cal, they were communicating with them. Probably until the signal stopped, and that’s why they stopped here.”

  Mas shook his head. “Hunter 23, planned signal stopping of. Advised did we.”

  Robi asked, “You advised Hunter 23 to stop communicating?”

  Mas nodded. “Risky was it. Up the signal picked. Foreign nation find. Destroy.” He made a painful face. “Risky was it.”

  Robi looked at Jeb. “So-Cal wasn’t destroyed, they stopped sending signals.” She turned to Mas. “Is Hunter 23 still there?”

  “Best knowledge of my. Yes,” he answered.

  Jeb asked, “You said something about a foreign nation finding and destroying. Do you know this for a fact?”

  “Yes,” Mas said. “Transient signal. Heard. Already we were here. Hear signal, transmission. Land to be cleaned. Forthcoming is arrival in forces. Hunter 23 destination for us. Defend we will to Hunter 23 aid. Got we have months of three.”

  Robi exhaled and made eye contact with Jeb. “This is fucked up.”

  “Tell me about it,” Jeb said. “I didn’t understand a word he said.”

  Robi huffed. “Let me see if I got this right. Mas, clarify.” She got agreement from Mas. “Mas picked up a radio signal that we were getting invaded. Right?”

  Mas nodded.

  Robi continued, “The invasion would be to clean the land before they arrive. Cleaning, meaning the drop. The day everyone dropped dead, right?”

  “More and …” Mas said. “To this land come wave of second. Sooner than the arrival in months of three. Wave of second clean land physically of leftover virus.”

  Robi nodded. “Virus first, second wave, troops perhaps to pick off what is left, and then the invasion in three months.”

  Frantically Mas nodded. “Must forces gather. Defend we must of invasion. Months of three.”

  “I know, I know.” She stood up and lowered her voice. “So you and I were right all along.”

  Disgusted, Jeb exhaled. “We were attacked. They are coming.”

  “Second wave first,” Robi said.

  “If we can beat them, we may stop the full invasion.” Jeb looked at Mas. “Do you know when the wave of second arrives? I mean, second wave. When do they get here?”

  “Soon if already not here.”

  Robi understood. “You heard this all on the radio?”

  “Yes, ah,” Mas spoke. “Called as you will, Geek of technology. Years have been here many, land of yours. Love.” He smiled. “Technology of mine advanced. Signals heard no other of can do. Sadly … share no longer can I. Destroyed.” He pointed to the truck. “But … Rebuild technology that I can do, in time of short.”

  Jeb looked with question to Robi. “What?”

  “He’s a computer geek. He built something that picked up the radio transmission. It was destroyed, he can do it again.”

  Mas
added, “With tools of proper. Problem is it not.”

  Jeb asked, “So he can build another radio that can pick up the enemy? Awesome, can he build one where the enemy cannot pick us up?”

  Mas smiled brightly. “Frequency, with band, of thread length. Not heard enemy by. Hunter 23 was to build for. Be there but I must. Do I can for you.”

  “Wait.” Jeb held up his hand. “These men that killed your party. Did they talk to you? Did they know you knew this?”

  “Invited we did to our town. Technology showed we to them.” Mas sighed. “Out they found, too, from foreign land we are. Peaceful first, said they, us on our way they sent …”

  “Jeb!” Tate called from the distance. “Gas is wearing off. They’re stirring.”

  Mas continued, “Believe we did. Mean they were. Leave we decide. In truck we pack up. A mile no more down the road we go, attacked. Escape I did. Catch to torment me. Save you did. Grateful I am much.”

  “Jeb!” Tate called again. “What do I do?”

  Jeb looked at Mas. “They thought you guys were the enemy?”

  Mas nodded sadly.

  “And they let you go, let you believe you were safe and just ambushed you?” Jeb asked.

  “Yes,” Mas answered.

  “Thanks.” He laid a hand on Mas’ shoulder and walked away.

  Robi, curious, called, “Jeb. What are you doing?”

  “Answering Tate,” Jeb said as he walked. “He asked what do to with our gunmen. Bishop! Come on. We may need you.”

  Robi shrugged

  Bishop trotted to Jeb. “What are we doing?”

  “Tate asked what we should do with them. They’re waking up. We’re taking care of this situation.”

  “How?” Bishop asked. “You said you weren’t the law.”

  “No, I’m not. That means really there are no laws. That’s why they killed the truck full of people. And that’s why …” Jeb smiled, “we’re doing what we’re doing.”

  “Which is?”

  Before Jeb said anything, Tate, once more called, “Jeb, waking. What do I do?”

  Jeb raised his weapon. “Shoot them.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  20 miles outside of Memphis