voice was somewhat nasally and higher pitched than I thought it would be. It deflated him somewhat, making him more vulnerable in my estimation.
I moved up to the passenger seat as Tommy thumped on the windshield, wanting Duncan to open the driver’s side window so he could hear too.
“As I have stated before, being the sole military authority left, I am declaring martial law in the United States, with myself as the authority until such time as a new Congress and President may be elected to lead. Some of you might be tempted to question my authority. Be advised that such defiance will be considered treason and the punishment for treason is death. Anyone helping someone commit treason will be subject to death as well. As of right now, anyone helping John Talon or someone associated with him will be considered committing treason as well.”
I looked up at Duncan. “Guess that means you,” I said dryly.
Duncan grimaced and flipped the radio the bird.
The voice continued. “John Talon is not to be trusted and avoided. He is a known outlaw and is currently under a mission to destroy the founding documents which made our country great. As an officer in the United States Army, I am duty bound by oath to prevent him from succeeding.”
I had taken just about enough. I grabbed the microphone, not really sure if he would be able to hear me and clicked the send button.
“Christ, what a load of bullshit,” I said, actually speaking to Duncan.
The voice went nuts. “Who said that? Who the fuck said that? I am in charge and I will make whoever said that suffer!”
I smiled at Duncan. This was better than I hoped for. I hit the button again. “I said that, you murdering, child-raping fake.”
The radio was silent for a second. I wondered if I had caused Thorton a case of apoplexy.
The voice came on again, low and deadly. “I will ask one more time, then I will find you and make you suffer. I’ll carve you into little chunks and feed you to the zombies one piece at a time.”
I found myself getting angry and less diplomatic than I normally would have thought. “This is John Talon, the so-called traitor. I am guessing I am speaking to Ken Thorton, a self-proclaimed major in the military, while never actually having been in the service. I am sure I am speaking to the same man who ran a concentration camp in California, enslaving survivors and forcing them to hear their babies cry, see their women and children raped and kill them out of hand. The same Thorton who thinks he can run the country after destroying the original Constitution and Bill of Rights. Did I miss anything, you worthless coward?”
This time, the delay was longer and I was pretty sure Thorton was kicking himself for setting up the relays so everyone could hear us. When he did get back on, his tone was much more controlled.
“Well, John. You seem to think you know a lot about me. But that sword has two edges. For example, I know you set up a community in Illinois and you left behind your wife and son to try and stop me. Where was it? Oh, yes. Starved Rock. Interesting name, that. I sent ten of my men up there to make an example out of dissenters, just so you know. If you hurry back, you might arrive just in time to see my Captain put a bullet in your son’s head. By the way, Dan Winters says ‘hi’.”
My emotions spun. I was first afraid Thorton had already been to Starved Rock, but when he said he dispatched men to go there, I was both relieved and terrified. Oh, God. Jake, Sarah. What had I done? I gripped the microphone so hard the casing cracked. I struggled to control my emotions. Charlie, Charlie, please be okay. Save my family, I prayed with everything I had. Anger then gripped me. Winters, you bastard! When I’m through with Thorton, you’re next! I swore silently.
I clicked the send button. “If you have any way of calling your men back, I would do so. If they have made it to Starved Rock, they’re already dead. I did not leave my family defenseless, as you will find out.” I took a deep breath. “But for you, Thorton, I will not be merciful.”
“Do tell,” Thorton mocked.
“You and I will meet, Thorton.”
“I look forward to it, Johnny.”
“I will look back on it, Kenny.” I spoke again before he could. “America! This is John Talon! I am trying to save our founding documents from this imposter. Do not let him into your communities! He is not military, he is a fake and his men are nothing more than criminals. Do not engage him or try to stop him!”
“You wound me, Johnny,” Thorton said in a condescending voice. “Why don’t you want people to stop me?”
I spoke coldly and deliberately into the microphone. “You’re mine to kill. Talon out.”
I put down the microphone and turned off the radio. My hands were shaking and I stood up, trying to walk away my rage and fear. I went outside, not caring if anything was out there. I walked to the front of the RV and kneeled down on the grass. I prayed like I had never prayed before. Charlie, please, don’t let them hurt my family. Please, I prayed. Not my family.
I thought about my brother and his family and I prayed he was up to the task of defending them. My heart ached with worry over my loved ones. Unbidden, the memory of my nightmare came to my mind and once again, I looked down at my fallen friends, my dead loved ones, my son’s lifeless face.
“NO!!” I screamed at the sky, clenching my fists in fury at a god who would allow me to survive the Upheaval, only to lose everything. I stood up, unable to contain my rage and heard sweet music to my ears. The wind carried the sound of moaning zombies who had answered my call.
I scanned the horizon, and saw three of them cresting a hill to the south. I smiled grimly in anticipation, welcoming the battle. I had given in fully to the battle rage I fought so hard to repress, lest it get me killed. The threat by Thorton on my family had finally released it from its prison.
I walked slowly to the group, letting them see me, letting them advance. I loosed my knife, wanting this to be close combat, welcoming it. The rational part of my mind was screaming at me to pull my SIG, shoot and run, but I ignored it. The zombies moaned fiercely, I snarled in reply. The killer had awakened and wanted to smash and destroy.
I ran to the closest zombie, a severely decaying specimen and jumped in the air, bringing my fist back and punching as hard as I could as I came down. The Z flipped over and I landed in a crouched position as the next one, an older woman with flesh hanging off her arms, reached a slow, skeletal hand at me. I laughed and swept the arm away, swinging my leg out and catching it behind the knees, dropping it to the ground. The third was quicker, a younger guy with no scalp, but not quick enough by half. I reached through its grasping hands and grabbed it by the throat, sinking my fingers into its decaying flesh. I ignored the hands that grabbed at me as I turned it around and sank my other fingers into its eye sockets, spurting fluid out as the eyeballs popped. I reared my head back and roared as I brought my hands together, snapping its neck like a dry tree branch. I threw the motionless zombie onto the ground as the other two regained their feet.
I didn’t wait for them both to attack, I kicked the nearest one in the knee, cracking the bone backwards and sending it tumbling down. I punched down with the knife, spearing the old woman in the back of the head, ending its life among the unliving. I tossed the knife away as the first one charged again and I dodged to the side, catching it by the wrist and spinning it to the ground. I kneeled on its back, amused at its struggles. I stood up, keeping one foot on it to keep it from getting up. When I had my balance, I stepped high with my other foot, slamming it hard into the back of the zombie’s neck. I was rewarded with a wet snap and the ghoul went limp.
I looked for more adversaries, but there were none. Pity. I retrieved my knife and walked slowly back to the RV, each step bringing me back from the abyss, each footfall a step back to sanity. By the time I reached the RV, I was spent. My rage was dissipated, leaving only fear and apprehension. I went to the back and unhooked a bucket. Scooping up some water, I washed the zombie shit off my hands. I wasn’t about to wash in the pond itself. When I had washed five times, I returned the bucket and sprayed a little kerosene on my blade. The metal burned brightly for a second, then faded. I extinguished it by plunging it into the ground.
After I put my blade away, I turned back to the RV. The simple tasks had brought me back to normal and I was ready to think more rationally. Inside the RV, I sat down at the kitchen table. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I had given in to my internal rage only once before, at the battle of Coal City.
Duncan sat down across from me, placing his hands on the table carefully, as if he feared making any sudden moves. I just stared down at the fake wood surface, trying to send my thoughts out to my wife and son.
After a few minutes, Duncan said quietly, “Next to you, Charlie’s the best there is. He’s got your brother as a
