THE COLLAPSE: Seeking Refuge (13 page)

Pharaoh responded by repeatedly barking loudly.  It was very intimidating indeed.

Fish shouted over the barking dog to the intruders, “You better come out with your hands up, or I’m going to let my dog go.  You’re going to die…unless you give yourselves up now.  I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think so!” a voice called out, and two shots were fired by the speaker.  Neither were close enough to make Fish worry about anything whatsoever.  Bryan had looked at Fish with a disingenuous smirk, almost empathetically, as if the two intruders were nothing more than a joke.

Fish shook Pharaoh’s collar once again, causing the dog to break into another rageful series of barks, just as Clay caught up to them and squatted down next to the Tahoe.  Clay’s eyebrows went up as he observed Fish shaking the dog’s collar.  He then nodded at Fish as if he somehow had absorbed his plan via ESP.

Fish grinned at both Clay and Bryan and then yelled toward the invaders, “Okay dudes, I’m going to count to three, and then I’m letting my dog go.  After I let him go, he’s going to show us exactly where you are, and then all three of us are going to blow you apart, do you understand me?”

“Fuck you,” one of the invaders yelled.  They must have been loyal to their cause, or just plain stupid.  Nevertheless, they were out of time.

“Okay then, here we go…..three….two….one, goodbye motherfuckers!” Fish shouted toward the shadowy vehicles in the parking lot as Pharaoh continued to bark furiously in his grasp.  He hoped that they would just give up, he didn’t actually want to let Pharaoh bound off into harm’s way. 

But the dog wouldn’t need to.

“Okay!  Okay!” a young man’s voice cried from amongst the moonlit vehicles, “we’re coming out, just don’t shoot!”

Fish quieted Pharaoh, then called out, “Nice and slow, hands and weapons in the air where we can see them.”

And just like that, The Park had captured their first prisoners of war during The Collapse.

*****

Stephen and Tarra put the Kays to bed in the family’s tent.  The exhausted couple decided to wind down by themselves for a few minutes next to the fire before calling it a night.  It wasn’t long after they were alone when they heard the first gunshots.

Tarra’s sixth sense kicked in.  Something wasn’t right, so she said, “That was too much gunfire to be warning shots alone.”

Stephen shrugged and responded to her comment with, “Fish is on watch right now…maybe he just went a little overboard.”

“No,” Tarra said, shaking her head. “That was too much, I’m telling you.”

“Nah, you’re just being paranoid,” Stephen joked as he nervously prodded at the glowing coals in the center of the pit with his fire stick.  But truthfully, deep inside, he
knew
that she was right, and that something was wrong.  He just didn’t want to admit it.  He had hoped the feeling would just go away and everything would be okay.

Then the air horn went off.  Tarra looked at Stephen with a combination of worry and I-told-you-so in her face.

“Shit!” Stephen yelled.  Without hesitation, he sprung from his camp chair and picked up his M-4 that leaned against the bench of the picnic table.  He shouldered the weapon and then turned to face Tarra.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Stephen didn’t know.  He wasn’t sure if he should run to the beach and assist his best friend or remain with his family.  A good man’s normal reaction would be to remain with his family, but what if the invaders could be stopped before they even reached the campground?  Wouldn’t that be better for everyone?

“I was thinking about going to help,” Stephen said, then asked, “why are you just sitting there?”

Tarra remained calm and collected in her chair at the fire.  Why wasn’t she freaking out? Their daughters’ lives could be at stake for crying out loud!

She firmly stated, “You’re not going anywhere.”

“What?”

“You heard me, fool.  Stay here,” Tarra said.  She stood up and stretched, then picked up her shotgun.  Stephen was confused, and continued to stare at her where he was standing without saying anything.

Tarra added, “I know you want to help, but if you take off into those dark woods by yourself there’s a possibility of you getting shot.  Not just by whoever is messing with us right now, but also by one of our own people.  We’re new here, and there’s gonna be waaayyy too many trigger-happy amateurs running around right now.  Don’t risk it.”

Stephen frowned.  He initially thought that stopping the invaders before they reached the campground was a better idea, but she was probably right.  Even so, he felt as if his man card had been pulled, so in lieu of an argument, he simply one-upped his wife by saying, “We need to put the fire out then, so we aren’t exposed.”

*****

The two prisoners had surrendered their weapons, both of them had possessed low-end handguns akin to something a person would find in the “WEEKLY BARGAINS” section of a pawn shop.  Neither claimed to have any spare ammo, and Fish had verified that information by asking Clay to frisk and pocket-check the two.

From the northeast, three long blasts on an air horn were heard.  It was the “all clear” signal.  The beachers had successfully defended their territory from the third boat!  Clay had looked at Fish with his air horn in hand, holding it up, as if to ask if he should do the same.  Fish nodded at him, and Clay blasted three long tones as well.  People from the campground would be on their way to both areas, imminently, and they would be armed.  The “all clear” would let them know that their assistance was no longer required.  

Fish noticed that the two prisoners had looked at each other when Clay used his air horn, and he suspected that they were taking mental notes of the security procedures at The Park.  He said to the men, “You can just go ahead and erase that shit from your brain right now.  There’s no way you’ll ever be able to use it.”

One of the prisoners asked, “What are you going to do with us?”

Good question.

Fish flipped his M-4 onto his back and withdrew his radio.  He told the prisoners, “I’m about to find out.  It isn’t up to me.”

Before Fish could radio the information, a female voice came over the radio,
“All stations, this is Carrie.  Anyone hurt?  Everyone okay?”

Fish then heard responses from the other team leaders.

“Bridge good-to-go.”

“Gate good-to-go.”

Fish pressed the mic and said, “Beach pending.  I need to find out if any of my people that intercepted the boat at the north beach are injured or not.”

“Standing by,”
Carrie said.

“We have a problem,” Fish said into the radio and paused.  He looked to the starry sky for a moment, he wasn’t quite sure how to explain the prisoners over the radio.  After barking a quick laugh to himself, he said, “Beach requires assistance, we are, uh…currently plus two.  We captured them in the parking lot.”

“Say what!?”
a voice boomed over the radio.  It sounded like William Probst, but Fish didn’t know that he had a radio.  He was told that only the security team leaders and the resident nurse held radios.  Stephen didn’t even get one.  The Park had other radios, but needed to conserve battery power, so they had taken a vote as to who was deemed critical for communication at a three o’clock meeting many days ago.  Ox had a propane generator at his site that his wife would use to power up the rechargeables, but fuel was a very limited resource during The Collapse.  How long would it last?  If the fuel ran out, Victor and Gerty had disposable batteries at their site, but those wouldn’t last forever, either.  Communication was an absolute necessity. Communication saved lives.

Another female voice came over the radio, and this time it wasn’t Carrie’s.

“Bring them to us.”

There was no doubt about it, the voice belonged to Claudine Probst.

“Roger that,” Fish answered, and then stowed the radio on his belt.  He pulled his 9mm from his shoulder holster and pointed it at the prisoners.

Clay mentioned, “That was the first time I ever heard either of those two on the radio.”

“I know, right?  That’s odd,” Bryan added, a bit baffled.

Fish was more interested in the prisoners than playing the who-had-a-radio-and-who-didn’t game.  He said to the two captives, “Let’s march.  You both better behave, and keep your hands on your heads.  You don’t even want to know what I did to the last two shitbags I held at gunpoint.”

Pharaoh growled at the men as if to support his master’s statements.

Before the group departed, Bryan asked, “What about the other beachers?  Aren’t we going to check on them?”

“Clay, you go,” Fish ordered, “take my radio, find out if they are good to go or not, then radio Carrie so she’s not standing around waiting all night.  Meet us at William and Claudine’s site afterwards.”

One of the prisoners (who didn’t appear to be very afraid) asked a question, “William and Claudine?  Are those the people in charge here?”

Fish used the barrel of his pistol to get the men moving.  He sneered at them, saying, “Don’t worry about who’s in charge here.  Like I said, erase all that shit from your brain, because you’ll never be able to use any of that information.”

Bryan said in an edgy tone, “Maybe we shouldn’t say anything else around these guys.”

“Good idea,” Fish agreed.  “Let’s get these turds to the boss.”

*****

Quite a few of The Park residents had taken up arms (some with whatever they could find) to assist with quelling the invasion.  The last two attacks had put a vigilant taste for revenge in everyone’s mouth.  Fish and Bryan came across a five-man posse on the road leading to Forest Loop.  Apparently, the “all clear” signal wasn’t good enough for them, they wanted to check it out for themselves. 

The mob had spotted Fish and Bryan escorting the two prisoners at gunpoint and ran toward them.  One of the younger men in the posse had recognized Fish as “The Safeway Guy”, and hollered it to the others as they approached.

It was quite clear to the mob that the two prisoners
were
, in fact, prisoners, since they were sullenly walking with their hands upon their heads. 

A man from the posse called out, “Are those Bowmen?”

“Well?  Are they?” another man demanded to know.

“Everyone calm down,” Fish commanded, scanning all the faces of posse in the starlight for anyone that might be a little too anxious for some get-back.  He continued with, “We don’t know anything about these turds yet.”

“Where are you taking them?  To Victor’s site?” a man asked.

Fish wondered why Victor’s site would have anything to do with prisoners.  He hadn’t been there yet.  If he had, he would have known that the entire place was strung up with enough barb wire to keep even the rowdiest bull in the pen.  And they still had more wire to spare.

Bryan said to the angry mob, “We’re taking them to ‘the boss’.  Don’t use names, please.”

The posse members looked at each other, some confused, some not.  A few nodded that they understood.  Fish and Bryan were thankful for that, however, one man in particular did not nod, did not calm down, and did not understand.  For some reason, he wasn’t satisfied with the information he was being provided by the beachers.  Luckily, he was only armed with a golf club.

“I want answers, now,” the golfer demanded, getting between Bryan and the prisoners.  He stopped Bryan from moving forward by raising the business end of his golf club to Bryan’s chest.

“Don’t do this, man, please stop,” Bryan warned quietly.

“No,” the golfer started, “I want answers.  Why are us common folk always left out of the loop?  I’m tired of this!”

“Me too,” another man cried out.

“Yeah,” a third man added, “why is it that the security people are the only ones that ever know what’s going on?  What about everyone else, huh?”

Fish had to get things under control before they got out of hand.  Keeping his pistol pointed at the prisoners, he announced to the group of men, “Hey guys, I’m brand new here.  I’m the new night shift team leader for the beach.  Were just following orders from the boss, so why don’t you throw us a bone here.  Let us take these guys in and we’ll find some answers.  All of us, together, if you want.”

“That’s not good enough,” said the golfer, “I think we should ask them a few questions right here and now.”

Fish thought for a moment, then said to him, “Nope, not gonna happen.  We need to take these guys in, ASAP.  Who the hell are you, anyway?  The captain of the neighborhood watch?”

The golfer sneered at Fish’s comment, and then back at the prisoners, who were becoming increasingly nervous as the altercation continued in the middle of the road. 

Fish tried to redirect the mob’s attention away from the prisoners by saying, “Listen, I think I know why the security people know more about what’s going on here than the rest of you.”

“Oh yeah?  Why’s that?” the golfer’s supporter shouted.

“Because they have representatives at the daily meetings with The Park leadership, that’s why.  After each meeting, I am pretty sure that they inform their teams of what’s going on.”