“It’s a lot of work just for revenge,” said Max. “What’s the end game?”
Josh started talking quickly, spilling the beans on the whole story. He told them about the man from the militia, the one who had chased John and Cynthia through the wood on a dirt bike. He told them how the militia wanted the radios, and how the compound was more than willing to team up with them.
“But what’s in it for the compound?” said Max. “Just the promises from the militia?”
“Basically,” said Josh. “But there’s internal politics going on. Since Kara’s death, it’s been chaotic. I don’t like the way things are going… they forced me to come, Max… I didn’t want to do it. I’m not like the others, you’ve got to believe me…”
“Just tell the rest of the story,” said Max. “You said Kara’s dead. What’s happening in her place?”
“New people are vying for power,” said Josh. “There’s a guy named Anton. He’ll lead the raiding party if I go back with your position. Not that I’m going to do that, Max. You’ve got to believe me. Let me live, and I’ll… Well, I’d join you if you’d let me.”
“We’ll worry about that later,” said Max. “Just out with the information. Nothing more. OK?”
“You heard him,” said Mandy, waiving the knife threateningly.
Max shook his head briefly at her, indicating for her to cut it out. That kind of behavior wasn’t going to get them anywhere. The threat of the Glock was already there.
Josh glanced up at Max.
“Info,” said Max. “Now.”
“OK, OK. Anyway, Anton is looking to lead the raiding party. He thinks he’ll be able to gain power within the compound by doing so, as well as strengthen his own personal ties with the envoy from the militia. I doubt it’ll work, but that’s what he’s intending… Now if you’ll just hear me out, I have a lot to offer you guys.”
“Anything more I should know?” said Max.
“Anything more?”
“If you’re hoping to join us, I’d think you’d want to give us all the information possible. Information that would help keep us alive.”
“Ah, well, of course. No, that’s about everything.”
“OK, now I need you to be quiet,” said Max. “While we figure out what to do with you.”
“Don’t kill me,” pleaded Josh, still clutching his shoulder. “Please don’t.”
Tears were streaming down from his eyes, and his face contorted into a desperate wail.
Max’s own face remained unchanged. He didn’t take his eyes off Josh.
“Not one more word,” said Max.
Max wasn’t cruel, but he also didn’t trust Josh. After all, he was a stranger, a man from the compound. And he had every reason to lie to save his own skin.
“So what do we do with him?” said Max.
“Kill him,” said Mandy. “There’s no other way. If he goes back to the compound, we’re dead.”
“What if he’s telling the truth?”
“About what?”
“About wanting to join us. We could use someone like him.”
“Someone like him? A killer from the compound? The same people who tried to kill us? Are you going soft, Max?”
“I’m trying to be rational,” said Max. “That’s not the same as going soft. You don’t want to go too hard, either, Mandy.”
“Don’t listen to her, Max,” said Josh, who hadn’t stopped crying. “There’s no reason to kill me. I could help you guys out. I could tell you everything the compound knows…”
Max wasn’t being soft in considering keeping the guy alive. He was thinking about the survival of himself, Mandy, Georgia, and the others.
If he had to kill him, he would. Plenty of “innocent” people had died already. And plenty more would soon enough.
And Josh’s innocence was highly suspect.
The snow hadn’t let up. Instead, it was falling heavier now than ever.
And the temperature was dropping. Max felt the cold. Especially his leg. The cold seemed to aggravate his injury.
The sun was completely blotted out by the snow. Max raised his wrist to check the time, so as not to take his eyes off Josh. It was almost noon.
5
“I don’t get it,” said Marshal, trudging through the snow beside Anton. “Why’d you send out those two scouts if you wanted to just roll on out yourself?”
“Easy,” said Anton. “I knew those two morons would botch the whole thing. They’ll work as a distraction more than anything else.”
“But we still don’t know where the camp is.”
“It won’t be hard to find. Trust me. You saw the maps.”
“I did, and it’s a big park.”
“Hunting grounds,” said Anton, correcting him. “It’s not a park.”
“Whatever it is, it’s going to be hard to find them. Especially in this snow. I don’t see why we couldn’t have waited until this all blows over.”
Anton chuckled. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Marshal. You’ve spent too much of your life in prison.”
“Didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Well, watch and learn. The snow gives us cover. Decreased visibility is our friend here. We’ll be able to create confusion, and cut them off when they try to flee. We’ll get them, one by one. And the best thing of all? The roads are impassible, and traveling on foot far will be difficult.”
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” said Marshal. “If you didn’t notice, we’re traveling long distances in the very same snow.”
Anton made a dismissive noise. “We’re outfitted perfectly for the conditions. How you liking those new boots, anyway?”
“They’re fine,” said Marshal, who glanced behind them.
The men from the compound walked behind them in a single file line. They all wore large parkas and heavy snow boots. And most importantly, they all carried weapons. Some had hunting rifles with scopes. But most had semi-automatic assault rifles.
Max and his pitiful little group would be no match for them.
Anton was pleased with himself. Frankly, he didn’t care about the radios that they were supposedly after. What he cared about was proving himself a leader, taking control of the compound in Kara’s absence. He needed to show Marshal what his group was made of, and what he himself was capable of.
Marshal may not have known much about fighting in a rural environment. But he wasn’t a fool. And he’d done fine enough on the dirt bike.
Anton would have never let on, but he was terrified of Marshal. And eager to please and impress him. His bravado was merely a cover for the insecurity he felt.
Marshal had spent the last ten years of his life incarcerated. The EMP had meant a new life for him. He’d been a higher up in one of the more prominent prison gangs, and he’d used his connections to work his way up in the newly formed post-EMP militia. He’d been chosen as an envoy because of his intelligence and ability to simply “get shit done,” as he put it.
Marshal was covered in prison tattoos, running in every direction across his pasty pale skin. Not that they were visible now. But Anton had seen them when they were changing into their outdoor winter gear.
“I can’t see shit in this snow,” said Marshal.
“Neither can the enemy,” said Anton. “Our ears are our ally in a situation like this.”
“Yeah, but I’d prefer seeing. You know, in prison, everything’s up close and personal. You may not know what’s going to happen, but at least you can see ten feet in front of you.”
“Must be weird being out again, eh?” said Anton.
Marshal grunted.
“You really think we can find them in this snow? We’ve been on the move for what, eight hours?”
Anton glanced at his watch. “More like twelve. But we’ll find them.”