Read Seeking Sanctuary (Walkers) Online

Authors: Zelda Davis-Lindsey

Seeking Sanctuary (Walkers) (19 page)

             
He looked to be around 35, but from the way he was dressed and the long beard he could've been 60.  The damned camera swung back and forth, to and fro for what seemed like forever before it settled on the console of the engine and we watched the man stare at us for several minutes.  I about to mouth off something obscene when he grabbed it again and it jiggled some more.  He'd found the note. 

             
He read the note then started to look for something to write with.  I guess he looked everywhere cause soon he faced the camera, and shrugged his shoulders.  Then he held up the note, pointed to the part that asked how many people needed saving and held up one hand fingers splayed, closed it, opened it again and repeated the procedure one more time before holding up four fingers.  By my reckoning that equaled 19 and we had no room for them.  Duke flew the copter up and down a couple of times in a kind of nod to let him know we got the message before working his way out of the window and down the side of the cars.

             
The windows showed the faces of several frightened people in the second and third cars but the caboose only held what looked like walkers.  Lots and lots of walkers.

             
“Well, I need to get my tired ass back to the house.  We are going to have company.  It was a wonderful picnic my friends but the time has come to welcome more lost souls. Paul said this day was coming and it has.”

             
“I'll be happy to take you back, Miss Hazel,”  Randy said, “and if you need me to stay and help I'll sure be happy to do that.”

             
“Me too, Miss Hazel,”  Riley said as he placed the afghan around her shoulders, “It would be my pleasure to escort you home.”

             
“We'll both take you home and make sure it's secure for your new guests.”

    
              I was having trouble keeping a straight face. 

             
What a crock.
  Lacy thought.

             
Yeah, but cute.  Looks like we need to make a trip tomorrow so we need to start planning.  I'd like one day when we didn't plan a damned thing.  A  spontaneous day, like a Sunday.  Know what I mean, Lace?

             
“I agree,”  Mason said next to me making me jump.  He put his hand on my shoulder to calm me and to say he was sorry.  “It seems like forever since we were at the lodge and could just laze a whole day away with no worries.”

             
I sighed because I thought of the lodge often.  Sleeping in and lounging before the fireplace in my flannel jammies and thick socks watching the flames warm my toes with the sound of crackling wood.  I sighed again.  Soon, dammit. 

             
I could hear the sound of the trucks leaving the parking lot to take Hazel home.  The helicopter returned soon afterward and I set about writing another note asking how many adults, children, injured or sick.  I also said anyone bitten or turned would not be coming back with us.  I didn't know how they would take that but it couldn't be helped.  We'd have to put them down sooner or later anyway so why bother with it and put our people at risk?  I had a short pencil and shortened it even  farther so it wouldn't throw the helicopter off kilter. Duke sent it and the note back to the train telling them someone would come for them tomorrow.

             
I told him to see if anyone would let the helicopter into one of the cars so someone else could give us some information.  It wasn't like I didn't trust the engineer but it seemed like he was cut off from everyone else and they would know more about their condition than he would.  I left him to mess with the train while I helped clear away the days festivities. 

             
Duke made several trips to the train until the helicopter finally needed a rest.  We had a general idea of the condition of the people on the train and it wasn't good.  The caboose was full of walkers.  One had been stuck between the cars until they finally dislodged him yesterday and the caboose door was locked from the outside.  So everyone that was left, and more accurate count was actually 17, were malnourished and dehydrated.  It seemed like every time they tried to get off the train and get some water the fool in the engine would blare the horn and the walkers would come running.  He hadn't figured out that the noise was attracting them.  We couldn't send food and water by way of the helicopter, it just wasn't made to transport anything bigger than the note and pencil, so we told them to hold on one more night and we'd be there tomorrow.

             
I stood on the catwalk and watched the sun set.  It had been a wonderful day.  The food was wonderful, and I was surrounded by the people I cared about most.  I don't know why I was feeling out of sorts about the new people.  They'd be staying at Hazels house and I wouldn't be seeing much of them. Right?  Man I hoped so, with every fiber of my being.  I didn't like people as a general thing.  Not their personalities but their physical selves.  I'd discovered that there were people I liked to refer to as 'vampires'.  They don't suck your blood but your energy and you could tell when you were near one by how quickly you tired in their presence.  People made me nervous and the idea of these people just plain made me sick.  I hope it wasn't a foretelling.  I just didn't need any more paranormal 'abilities'. 

             

 

 

                                                          Chapter 17

 

              Our little caravan of two, horse-drawn wagons and two horses with riders, slowly made our way to the train.  The horses and wagons were borrowed from Hazel.  They were used for hay rides during the fall.  Joe and Sandy manned one while me and Mason got the other.  Actually, Mason and Joe were the only ones that knew how to handle a two horse team and I was hanging on since Clint and Flynn wanted to ride the horses. We should all learn to drive a wagon because one of these days that may be the only way to go, driving wagons and riding horses.

             
Lacy, Sarah, Melody and Randy were at Hazels helping to get the place ready for the new people.  Duke, Mercy, Howard, Samantha, Ken and Jill remained at the fort. I couldn't imagine settlers coming across the nation sitting in a wagon, and arriving intact.  I know now why in the movies you see most of them walking beside the wagons.  I swear, my kidneys felt like they'd been rearranged.  Since we weren't on any real trail, we bounce over large rocks and deep holes, making me concerned about losing a wheel.  I couldn't admire the countryside because my attention was focused on hanging on for dear life. I couldn't look at anything because as soon as I did I was jerked another direction.  I hated it and was resolved to kick one of the boys off a horse on the way back.  They needed to feel the 'frontier experience'.  But then in most of the old westerns I'd seen the men were on horseback making the women drive the wagons.  Okay, nevermind.

             
The men had poured over maps of the area before heading out so they knew about the ravines and creeks.  We avoided as many as possible but when we did have to cross one I got off and walked.  The water was ice cold but it felt so good to walk, I didn't complain.  Mason wanted me in the wagon though in case of walkers.  We were in the mountains of Northwestern Montana, how many walkers could there be?  When I'd finally decided we'd never find the train, I heard the whistle again.

             
“What part of 'don't blare the horn' does this fool not understand?”  Mason said as he maneuvered around a huge boulder.  I would've replied but I was too damned busy hanging on.

             
“Didn't we tell that fool to leave off the horn?”  Clint said, as he rode up even with Mason.

             
“Yeah, but he don't seem to have much sense.  I'm more interested in who made him an engineer.  He can't seem to follow directions.

             
We suddenly came out of the trees and there before us was a beautiful old train.  The red caboose almost rocked with the many walkers inside wanting out.  Two coach cars were between it and the blue engine.  Three walkers were on the engine trying to get the door open, while another stood on the steps leading to the door, trying to push the walker in front him off the steps.  The walker in the back was an old mountain man, from the looks of the beard, jacket with leather fringe (I didn't think they actually wore them) and fringed boots.  They hadn't seen us yet, cause the fool was still blowing the horn.  You could see him inside and when he wasn't blowing the horn he was stabbing at the walkers with what looked like a broom handle through the window on the side, nearing falling out in the process.  I nearly fell off the wagon when a shot rang out (thanks Flynn for the warning) and one of the walkers crumbled on the stairs.  Everyone's attention was on us then, and before they could get off the engine they were destroyed and we could approach the train.

             
Flynn rode to the opposite side of the train to clear that side before we motioned for the people inside to come out.  They didn't.  Hmm. So I climbed the extra three feet of steps and they wouldn't let me in.  What the hell?  I turned and shrugged my shoulders at Mason who sighed, tossed the reins to Sandy, and climbed off the wagon.  Joe was at the other car trying to get those people to open the door.  I finally gave up and leaving the crazy people inside to Mason, headed to the engine.  He was still inside.

             
I knocked because it was a door dammit and that's what you do when confronted with a closed door.  Besides, if he tried to stab me with that broom handle I was apt to take it away from him and beat him to death with it.  I thought these people wanted to be rescued.

             
“I though you wanted rescued,” I said to the door.  Then I knocked again.  I was starting to feel unwanted staring at that blue door.  “Come on, fool, you're being rescued here.  Time to act like it.”

             
The door slowly opened then the fool who needed his nose hairs trimmed peered out at me.  I just smiled, see, no harm from me.  He looked behind me then stepped out and looked all around.  Geez, talk about rude.

             
“So you ready to get out of here or would you like to blow the horn some more?”  I asked as I brushed past him and off the engine. I was so done with him.  I heard him walking behind me back to the first car.  He still hadn't said anything.  I guess it was embarrassment, he really stunk.  He'd need clean pants real soon, or I'd loose my breakfast.

             
People were being gently herded out of the cars and into the wagons.  The ones in the worse condition were being seen to by Joe.  We handed out Gatorade and energy bars and wrapped blankets around them as we settled them in the wagons, making room in the other wagon for the ones that were to sick or weak to lay down.  They didn't make much noise just murmured thanks or wept quietly.  They were a sorry lot. 

             
The kids seemed to rally faster than the adults but then that's the way of children.  I don't know why but they just bounce back quicker. They were helping the adults settle in, reassuring them that all was well.  One little boy of around 10 years old looked questioningly at me after reassuring an older adult and when I nodded he smiled, lighting up his dirty little face.  Once we had everyone loaded, Clint and Flynn busied themselves with destroying the walkers in the caboose and throwing them out onto the ground.  When I looked at Mason he said, “That caboose is too nice to let them rot inside.  Might want to use that it one of these days.”  I agreed.  It seemed like it took all day to get to this point but when I looked at my watch, I saw it was only a little over an hour.  It would take another hour to get to Hazels. I felt sorry for all the jostling those people took on the return trip but  I'd been there done that, so I rode behind Clint who rode in front of the wagons and didn't get to see their misery.  Chickenhearted of me I know but there was just nothing that could be done for it.

             
I was able to admire the beauty of the Flathead National Forest.  It was named after the Flathead Indians who lived in the area.  They were called that by the first Europeans who came to the area.  The Flathead call themselves
Salish,
meaning “the people”.  The area is beautiful, full of abundant wildlife, tall, snow covered mountains and lush valleys all abloom with every color.  The air was still a bit cool but fresh like sheets dried in the sun.  A flash of light brought my head around so fast that my neck popped, again.  There hanging, over a bunch of aspen trees, was our UFO.  Just watching, again.

             
I see them too.
  Mason thought at me. 
We don't want to alert anyone right now so lets not say anything, yet.

             
I just love the way they're so helpful, watching us do all the work while they sit up there with their feet propped up on their control console, sipping mint juleps. He actually laughed out loud but I wasn't trying to be funny.  I put my back to the hovering disc and moved with the swaying horse almost falling asleep. 

             
It was a quiet, exhausted bunch that arrived at Hazels. Some had to be carried inside and examined by Joe and Sandy.  The women wept while the kids dragged themselves inside, looked wide eyed at all the furnishings and wandered over to the table. The men just collapsed on the couches and chairs, obviously done in.

             
Sarah's nose wrinkled up at the odor but she helped the ones that could settle at the table get some chicken soup.  Mama always said if you're ill or tired, chicken soup was just what you needed.  Seemed like Hazel thought so too. The kids got finished first and didn't argue about baths, so they must have been tired of being dirty.  We had two kids to each bathtub and some in the showers.  Since we'd already started an emergency trailer, we had sweat clothes for everyone old enough to walk.  Fresh, clean children and adults lounged around the main hall softly talking among themselves until the last one settled into Hazel's rocker. I started to say something but she shook her head so I left well enough alone.

             
“We'd like to say thank you but I don't think that would be enough for what you've done for us.  We wouldn't have lasted much longer in those cars.”  The spokesman was a man who appeared to be in his 40's.  He was thin but then they all were and was clearly enjoying the coffee Sarah had served on a big serving cart.  “Mr. Walker, the engineer, assured us that we'd be safe on the train and promised we'd get to Seattle safely but we didn't count on the bridge being out.  Then he decided to back the train back up to Kalispell and something happened to the engine, although the horn seemed to worked quite well.”

             
“I thought it would bring help and it did.”  Mr. Walker said as he helped himself to another cup of coffee.

             
“Yes sir, it did, not to mention all the walkers.”

             
“Then why mention it.  I saved your asses back there and as soon as we recuperate we'll go back to Kalispell just like we planned.”

             
“No sir, we won't.  You planned to return to Kalispell, not us.  We like it here just fine.”

             
“Just a damned minute,” Walker sat up, “I'm in charge of this group and I say we go back to Kalispell.  I've got you this far, I'll take you the rest of the way.”

             
“Well, now that's just a wonderful idea, Mr. Walker.  You just go to Kalispell.  We just found out there is no safe haven in Seattle so we've decided to stay here.”

             
“Bullshit!”  He said, looking straight at me.  I raised my eyebrows at him more in wonder that whenever something goes wrong everyone seems to think its my fault.  Before I could say anything, though,  Hazel did it for me.

             
“Mister Walker, I'll thank you to watch not only your tongue but your volume.  They want to stay, they stay but you will not.  As soon as you are able, you will leave here, never to return.  Do I make myself clear.”

             
He stood as if to attack Hazel, making the rest of us stand at the same time, ready to protect her.  When he saw he was clearly not going to get any help, he walked out to the porch.  Ken followed him to make sure he didn't do any harm to anyone, since a lot of the kids were playing outside.    Flynn and Randy were already outside watching the kids since the security here was more of a problem than at the Fort.

             
We're going to have to leave a couple of us here to protect Hazel from this fool.  I don't like the way he's acting. 

             
Yeah, kinda reminds me of Sweets.
Sweets was an ex military, national guardsman whose real name was Calvin Sweet and who had a major, no pun intended, problem with not being able to be in charge.  He wanted to push everyone around and when we wouldn't let him he tried to fire a missile at us during his great escape.  Duke had disabled the controls in the helicopter Sweets stole causing it to crash, killing Sweets in the process.  Yeah, Walker reminded me of him.

             
Mason causally strolled outside to talk to the men to see if they would be willing to stay until Walker left.  I motioned to Hazel to follow me to the kitchen area.

             
“Miss Hazel, we're concerned Walker may cause trouble so we're going to leave a couple of the guys here to make sure he doesn't, if you don't mind of course.”  She smiled that sweet smile of hers, then patted me on the shoulder. 

             
“That won't be necessary, dear.  

             
“Why?”

             
“He won't be here tomorrow

             
“He...what?”

             
“Are. You. Having. Trouble. Hearing. Again. Dear?”  she all but yelled at me.

             
“No. No I'm not,” trying very hard not to yell back at her.  Geez.

             
“I. Said...”

             
“Please Hazel, don't yell.  I can hear fine, I'm just confused about...things.”  I waved my hands around not sure how to explain what 'things' entailed.

             
“Well, dear, my friends will take him off our hands tonight.  So you really don't have to worry about him.  Although, it is awfully nice to have someone to worry about me for a change, I can tell you.  Come along, dear, we have guests you know?”  She left me standing in the kitchen with my mouth hanging open.  I walked to the window over the sink and looked out.  There, hovering over the tree tops about half a mile away was the silver disc.  I wondered why they all had to be silver.  Don't they have any gold or copper ones?  Shaking myself, I took a deep breath and returned to 'our guests'.

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