Nick Showalter
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Ch.26 - Jail Break
🕑 Added 2022-07-08 16:37:14 +0000 UTCJoe peeked around the corner in surprise. He wasn't the only one. There were sounds of movement in the barn near him, and he thought he heard the sound of the only door creaking open slightly. Whatever was going on, the guy at the gate had kicked a hornet's nest. Joe could relate. It seemed no matter what he did lately, it received an armed response. He realized the guy at the gate would probably have more luck if Joe didn't keep assaulting the people here. That thought led to a feeling of guilt he squashed almost as quickly as it came. Joe wouldn't change a thing. Those actions had kept people safe.
"Except Dylan," a small voice whispered in the back of Joe's mind. He pushed that thought back into its box. There would be plenty of time for self-doubt and loathing later.
A guard answered back over the gate. Joe assumed it was the man in charge, though his 'who farted' trucker cap left some doubt in the assumption. He supposed that you couldn't afford to be too picky in a total societal collapse instigated by magic aliens.
"Throw down your weapon."
"Do you mean my bow?"
It was an older man's voice answering. It sounded deep and no-nonsense, though he didn't get an explicit threat from the tone. If anything, the man sounded exasperated, as if he was dealing with a foolish child he couldn't avoid. The guard looked over the gate in disbelief at the question. When he replied, his voice was tense with annoyance.
"Well, is that a weapon?"
"Depends on who's holding it, I suppose."
"You'll have to put down your bow before we let you come inside."
"I'm not putting down my bow. It sounds like there's about a dozen of you over there and just little old me on this side. What's got your panties so in a twist?"
"There's been some attacks." The guard answered without thinking. From his red face, he wasn't happy with the lapse. "It's none of your business. We don't let armed strangers inside. End of story."
"Fine, I don't need to come in. There's some big fucking dogs roaming around out northwest, and they're killing everything they come across. We need help taking them down."
"That's Frank's call. If you aren't going to disarm, you can come back tomorrow. Be early next time."
Joe couldn't believe what he was hearing. The paranoia was completely off the charts. How much damage could one person do against a whole armed encampment? Well, the guards were armed, but Joe doubted the citizens carried a lot of weaponry. Still, the threat seemed pretty low. Then Joe realized that he had broken into their encampment and was currently holding a weapon that could conceivably cut a man in half. Their response seemed excessive, though. The man on the outside apparently echoed Joe's thoughts.
"C'mon, man, they got a kid two days ago. We need to do something. Where's your human decency."
Joe felt a pang in his chest at the thought of one of those things getting a child. He shook his head and moved towards the barn door. They had a job to do, and he'd already let himself be distracted for too long. Joe came around the side and gave the cracked door a feathery knock. The squeak and scramble from inside the door let him know he'd been right about not being the only one spying.
He took the opportunity and entered the barn while the guards were still distracted. His team followed him in, and they shut the door behind. A section of translucent roofing let in a dubious light, and Joe looked around the room. The naked fear of him and his weapon was etched on the faces of everyone in front of him. Half the people here were women and children, which did not help Joe's sense of self-worth.
All that changed when Deena walked in the door. Two young boys and a teenage girl gave a slight exclamation of surprise and rushed to her. She dropped her spear and scooped them up, unshed tears clouding her eyes. A tall man walked over to her and joined the family hug. Joe felt tears in the corners of his own eyes as he turned back. Mike was talking with a boy that looked ten. Carl had grabbed the young woman Joe saw earlier and held her in a fierce bear hug. Diana came over and stood next to Joe.
"I don't want to rush them," Diana said, "but we need to get going. There's no telling how long they'll stay distracted by the show at the gate."
"Yeah." Joe spoke up in a stage whisper. "We need to get going, folks. Grab anything you need, and let's get ready to break for it."
"Joe," Carl spoke up as he let go of his daughter. "Jennifer said they loosened a panel back here near the johns. We can go out that way. They were waiting until they could loosen the fence at night before they left."
"Nice. Props to you folks. Though, I'm glad we got here first. It's not safe out at night right now."
Everyone ran to some old army surplus cots and grabbed odds and ends. It seemed to mostly be bundles of spare clothes, though Joe spotted some food and water squirreled away as well. They all went through the loose back panel and did their best to ignore the smell of a full public toilet sitting in the summer sun. Everyone hid back around the building again while they discussed options.
Time was the problem. The sun would drop soon, meaning Frank could be back at any point. Enough time had passed depending on how he cleared the rift and how deep he wanted to go. Also, Joe was no more enthused about staying outside after dark than anyone else was right now. His words inside hadn't been for show. All this thought and speculation was rendered moot when shouts and a loud bell sounded off from the direction of the south gate.
Joe risked a look and saw an intense discussion among the guards. The man outside was forgotten or had left while they were inside the barn. Joe didn't know, but no more words came over the fence. After a few seconds of discussion, the three barn guards and two others raced toward the commotion. The leader of the group and three others stayed behind, eyes trained on the gate. Joe knew he wasn't going to get a better opportunity. He waited until the guard's attention was back on the gate before he walked out behind them.
"Excuse me, folks, we need to leave. Don't worry about the hand stamps today."
The four guards turned and stopped when they spotted Joe. The rest of his enlarged group joined him, and the guards shifted nervously. The leader stepped forward and faced off with Joe. The guard captain's face turned red as he took his spear and shoved it point first into the ground.
"Take me as a hostage. Leave the other guards. I won't cause any problems."
Joe sighed. He supposed that it was understandable given the situation. Someday people wouldn't attack on sight or run away. He had taken the first steps, but it was frustrating for him. There wasn't anything he'd change today, storming the camp and tying people up, but family came first, and they'd figure everything else out as they went.
"I don't want hostages." The guard captain paled at Joe's statement. Christ, Joe thought, do they really think we're going to murder everyone that crosses us. He wondered what Frank had told the people here. "We're leaving, and as long as you play nice, we'll leave you tied up and safe here behind the wall."
The captain held out his hands hesitantly, and the other guards mimicked his actions a moment later. Mike and Carl ran forward to bind them all. Five minutes later, they were tied together and tucked in their shed. Joe waved forward, and the group as a whole went to move the gates. They were a ponderous affair. The weight was uneven and borderline too heavy for its attachments to the pillars. Still, they pushed it open in short order, and Joe looked out at the man he'd heard over the wall.
Joe noticed the arrow knocked on a compound bow, but the string wasn't drawn yet. The stranger was tall, about 6'2", with salt and pepper throughout his hair and a short beard. He looked to be in his late fifties and relatively fit if Joe was guessing. Joe swept over that in a moment and took in the man's face. He had a strong chin and harsh creases crisscrossing in deep worry lines. His eyes were ice blue and cold. Only the laugh lines in the corners lessened the sense of calculated detachment.
While Joe was inspecting him, the man's gaze swept around the area and seemed to take in the group at once. He settled on Joe, and his hand pulled back the bowstring ever so slightly. For his part, Joe froze and kept his second hand away from his weapon. For all of his reasonable talk, Joe could understand why the guard would be spooked. This was the type of man that gave off an aura of cold violence held back with gossamer chains of willpower.
"We're leaving," Joe said. "I'd recommend you do the same."
"Is that a threat?" Joe saw the man's posture tense and his gaze unfocus as he took in more of his surroundings.
"What? No," Joe spluttered out the first thoughts to enter his mind. Why did people always assume that he was threatening them? Probably the giant glaive. "They'd imprisoned my friend's families. We freed them, and now we're leaving. If that sounds like a good time to you, by all means, stay. We're going. You do what you want."
Joe signaled to Diana, and she took the lead in directing the troops south. They would cut through a neighborhood route that had already been scouted to minimize their exposure to the fields in the west. He never took his eyes off the man in front of him. As his group started leaving, Joe kept himself between them and the bowman, a move that was clearly noticed. He edged farther away and made sure to keep his movements slow and steady. Sudden movements turned tense situations into tragedies.
With his eyes on the man, he noticed that the string had gone slack. Confusion and uncertainty seemed to flow across the bowman's face and body language for a moment before it was visibly locked back down. Joe felt a pang of pity for him. He'd felt it before when he was eavesdropping on the conversation. This was someone on a mission to help people, and everything he touched was going to shit. Joe could relate to that scenario. He did his best to soften his face and dropped his weapon.
"Look. I don't know the details of your situation, but it's not safe around here after dark. You can take your chances in there, but we probably pissed them off something fierce. Their gonna be suspicious of mysterious strangers. If you come with us, we'll give you a safe place to sleep tonight and try to get you home in the morning."
The stranger's brow furrowed in thought, his eyebrows coming almost together like a big bushy worm. Then he shrugged and held out his hand. Joe left his weapon on the ground and walked forward to clasp it. The man's grip was like iron, though it didn't feel like he was trying to hurt Joe. Seemingly satisfied, he released, and Joe jogged back to pick up his weapon.
"I'm Joe."
"Ollie."
"Ollie, lets head for some shelter. It's best to not be near the fields after dark."
The sun continued to sink towards the horizon as they spoke. Almost two hours of sunlight were left, but the thought of being here at dusk was enough to put some speed into Joe's steps as he caught up to the group. He was surprised to see Ollie keep pace with him without difficulty. Joe had been right. There was no way this man was level one. Joe's mind whirled as his body ran forward on autopilot.
Ollie had come here for help against the hounds. That was reasonable no matter your level, but he hadn't been familiar with any of the happenings here in Plain City. Everything snapped into place, and Joe felt his excitement making his heart jump in his chest. Ollie's group had access to a rift. A different rift than here or Dublin. Joe would have probably helped this man out of the kindness of his heart. Now, helping Ollie jumped straight to the top of his to-do list.
The group made its way through the mostly abandoned town without incident. After they were a few blocks away, a second set of bells began to ring, and the shouts could be heard even at their distance, though not understood. Everyone picked up the pace slightly and only stopped when it was clear the children couldn't keep up. Without a word, Joe and Deena each picked up one of her boys and continued on their way. There was no sound or sign of pursuit as they continued.
Joe's group breathed a sigh of relief when their makeshift fortress came into view. Diana and Joe hustled everyone inside, and he shut the door with a sigh. Inside it was a chaotic milling mess of people, with Ollie standing awkwardly by the door. Fortunately, Deena took charge of the situation and sent the woman and children upstairs. She introduced her husband, Travis, and followed up to enforce some order in the chaos. Joe was left to shepherd the group of men. Introductions were awkward, but there was nothing else to do but move forward.
"Travis, nice to meet you. I'm Joe. This is Ollie. Ollie, this is Carl, Mike, and Travis."
Joe pointed to everyone in turn as he spoke. Then he moved to the kitchen and laid his glaive on the counter. Joe was glad he didn't have to use it today. He'd be glad when he got to use it on some monsters, though. Behind him, the other men had begun the awkward meeting phase without him, and Joe was perfectly fine with that. He came back and started the next round of uncomfortable questioning.
"I'm from Dublin, though I've been in Plain City for about a week. Where are you coming from?"
"You've only been here a week?" Ollie sounded incredulous at Joe's statement. "You've pissed off most of the town in a week? Either you're a born asshole or really talented at putting your foot in your mouth."
"I'd like to think it's the latter," Joe shrugged, "but more than a few people would say the former this week. That's beside the point. Where are you coming from? If we're going to help you, we need to plan out where we're going."
"Unionville Center. There aren't a lot of us left." Ollie's face and voice were grim at that statement, and it was clear he didn't like talking about it. "There are still about a dozen of us bowhunters up there, and we were doing OK until those damn dogs showed up."
"A dozen bowhunters?" It was Joe's turn to sound incredulous. "How were there a dozen bowhunters in Unionville Center? That's literally a one stop sign town."
Ollie shook his head like he was used to the question and tired of answering it. His voice coming out like a bored teacher's lecture confirmed that theory to anyone paying attention. "Man, there was something like a million bowhunters in the US before this shit happened. I imagine they came through better than most after all of this."
Joe nodded his head, though he was surprised by the number. Deer hunting in Ohio was common outside the cities. Incredibly common thanks to the massive fields planted in the flat rich earth. The phrase ' knee-high by the fourth of July was more impressive, considering most of the time, it wasn't planted until halfway through May. All that bounty and an absence of predators except hunters and minivans kept the deer population high. Joe had always assumed that almost all of them used modern firearms. Shotguns were incredibly common for their wide variety of shells and the fact that rifles had been banned until relatively recently.
"Fair enough. I'm going to put my cards on the table. We want those hounds dead, just like you, and probably for similar reasons. We could use some friends, as the guy in charge here doesn't seem to care about them if the monsters are attacking other people."
Ollie didn't say anything at first, and the silence stretched awkwardly. Joe let him think in peace. He wasn't going to pressure anyone into joining them. His group had looked sketchy as hell, leaving the town armed with alarm bells going off behind them. Any sane person would have misgivings about the situation, and lives were on the line. After five minutes, Ollie spoke again, slowly at first and then picking up speed.
"You...seem like a good group. I was hoping for more people to help my town." Ollie paused there for a moment and cleared his throat. "That doesn't look like an option right now, and I'll take any help I can get. At least you seem reliable."
That was the last thing Joe would have thought if he'd been on Ollie's side of the day. Surprisingly, the liberation had gone off without a hitch, but he'd alienated the town and threatened its citizens more than once. It was in his best interest to stay quiet and move the conversation forward, but Joe had to know what the man was thinking.
"I appreciate that, Ollie. I truly do, but I've got to ask why you'd say reliable? I've been called a lot of things lately, but few of them complimentary outside of this crew." Joe hooked a thumb at Mike and Carl.
"There's no blood on your weapon." Ollie didn't hesitate with his reply. "That thing isn't subtle, and it's clean. There's none on your clothes either, and I doubt you had time to change those. But mostly, you kept yourself between the group and a potential hostile. That's reliable."
"Thanks, Ollie. Let's settle in and then figure out how we'll help your town. I'm gonna want to include the whole group for that one."
