The Jared Chronicles | Book 4 | The Devil's Bastion, page 23
part #4 of The Jared Chronicles Series
When the fluid no longer flowed through his beard to the floor, Barry straightened himself and retrieved the roll of gauze. Carefully and with a great amount of pain, he used his left hand to replace his torn ear to a position he felt was where it, for the most part, belonged. Barry bit into the loose end of the gauze with his teeth, then used his left hand to begin wrapping the bandage around his head and over his destroyed ear. Barry used one entire roll of gauze on his head, tucking the loose end to hold the bandage in place.
Finished dressing his head and ear injury, Barry used what little saline fluid was left to flush his gunshot wound. Barry grabbed the second roll of gauze and used this to wrap his hand in an attempt to at least keep it cleaner than it would have been without a bandage. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad as the pain had been while flushing his head and ear wound. It was almost like he’d reached a level of pain where a little more just didn’t matter that much. His whole body hurt at this point, steering Barry in the direction of just not caring any longer.
The initial shock of his two injuries was wearing off, leaving him in pain, but clearer minded than he’d been before he left the soldiers’ camp. Thinking about Carnegie’s request of him now seemed absurd. The more Barry pondered Carnegie’s actions, the more he felt the colonel had sent him away to die in the countryside. Well, screw him, thought Barry. He’d just sleep in the barn until the morning and figure out what he would do after that, providing he could even sleep after the beating he’d taken, coupled with his own sophomoric medical efforts.
Barry found the bedding he’d used undisturbed in the barn where he’d left it. Curling up on the floor in front of the worktable, Barry tried drifting off. It didn’t happen right away, causing him to consider searching the house for a bottle of booze to assist in the matter, but decided he’d feel bad enough come morning without a hangover. Eventually, Barry was swept away, dreaming nightmarish dreams of angry violent men. Men in soldiers’ uniforms who slaughtered people like cattle. It wasn’t the best sleep, but at least it was something.
When Barry next opened his eyes, his brain was flooded with an agony he would never have guessed possible. The gunshot in his hand pained him all the way to his shoulder while his entire head felt like it was ready to burst. He lay facedown, his head turned so he rested on his good ear, well, really his only ear. Barry groaned out loud as he struggled to roll to his back using only one arm and his legs.
Once he was on his back, Barry’s eyes focused skyward, causing his heart to nearly leap from his chest. Devon sat on the edge of the loft, quietly gazing down on the mess of a human below.
“What happened to you?” Devon inquired flatly.
Barry worked his mouth, which felt as though he’d taken a one-ounce shot of foot powder and chased it with some sand. He ran his tongue around the pasty interior of his mouth, wondering if Devon was alone.
“Where is everyone?” Barry countered, trying to gauge his situation at the ranch.
Devon stared down; his face destitute of emotion as Barry struggled into a seated position.
“I asked you a question, Devon,” Barry snapped, followed by a wince as the pain from moving his mouth shot throughout his head and neck.
Devon continued his placid stare. “I don’t have to answer to you—traitor.”
“Listen here,” Barry started, his voice taking on a more diplomatic tone. “I did take off, and yes, that was a mistake, but I’m no traitor.”
Devon rose, turned, and descended the ladder until he stood on the barn’s floor, towering over Barry. “You killed Rip and Mr. Thacker,” Devon spat in a manner Barry had never seen from the youth.
“Devon,” Barry pleaded, “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“You’re the reason they’re dead, you gave that colonel John’s plan, and they were waiting for ’em,” Devon fired back.
Barry got to his knees and was about to stand when Devon’s squirrel rifle came up, pointing at his chest.
“What in the hell are you doing, boy?” Barry growled.
“You’re one of them now, and if you get up, I will shoot you,” Devon threatened.
The two gaped at each other for a few seconds before Devon continued, “So what happened to you?”
Barry’s head dropped. “I wanted to try to broker a peace deal with the colonel, but he’s not the type to negotiate,” Barry half lied.
Devon again wagged his head from side to side. “I don’t believe you, Barry. They knew we were coming and were ready.”
Wanting badly to know if he was alone with the teen, Barry conceded to telling at least part of the truth. “Okay, I’m lying. Yeah, I did leave, but not to hurt anyone here at the ranch. I just didn’t want to die, and I thought this place would be overrun and burned to the ground. I went over, and I guess the colonel got wind that some or all of the people down here left. He asked me where they would have made off to, and when I didn’t know, he told me to go look for them and then come back.”
“So, who did this to you?” Devon insisted.
Barry raised his head, eyes locking with Devon’s. “They did.”
“Why?” Devon pressed, not convinced Barry was being completely truthful.
“Fuck, man, I don’t know the why. I didn’t answer a question quick enough maybe,” Barry bawled, rolling back onto his side and holding up his bandaged hand. “They shot me, tore my ear off, and sent me off to find you guys. That’s it, nothing more.”
Devon’s nostrils flaring was the only sign of tension visible in the teen’s demeanor. Devon drew a deep breath in through his nose, then released it as he glanced at the barn doors.
“Well, what do we do now?” Barry questioned, getting a little spooked by Devon’s seemingly uncaring attitude toward him.
Devon lowered the little rifle, took two quick strides in Barry’s direction, and fired a single .22-caliber round into Barry’s left ankle. Barry’s eyes went as wide as saucers at this most unexpected course of action taken by what he’d always assumed was just a weird kid severely lacking in self-confidence or any social skills.
“I wouldn’t come looking for John,” Devon murmured. “He really liked Rip.”
Barry didn’t bother answering as Devon slipped through the open barn door. When Devon was gone, Barry let out an earsplitting howl of pain as he held his throbbing ankle. The bullet hadn’t done a great deal of damage, but it hurt like hell, and Barry realized quickly he wouldn’t be walking far on the leg anytime soon. Barry had experienced bad days before, most coming after the solar flare, but today eclipsed them all a hundred times over. Talk about cause and effect, Barry thought to himself, remembering the moment he’d come to the decision to leave the ranch. Now he was back and in the worst shape of his life.
If he didn’t find some help and soon, he would die. Less than a year into the post-solar-flare world, he would die because of a bad decision he’d made. Lying on the dirty barn floor, there was no one to lie to, and Barry certainly couldn’t lie to himself at a time like this. If Barry allowed himself this luxury, he might well make the same mistake twice, having failed to learn by accepting responsibility for his current predicament.
No, his arrogant self would be forced to suffer the internal humiliation of knowing he had no one to blame but himself for every pain he was presently feeling. A tough pill to swallow for sure, but a very necessary one if Barry wanted to learn to survive in this new world. His thoughts were interrupted by blinding pain when he tried getting to his feet. He pushed through the pain as best he could, staggering to the barn door and holding himself up by the frame of the doorway.
It took some effort to get to the house, but after a few minutes, Barry was inside, standing in the entranceway. A mirror on the wall caught his attention, inducing a near panic attack at the sight of his condition. The blood-soaked bandages were a grotesque dark color while his neck was slicked in fresh blood that had oozed from under the gauze wrapping. The top of his left shoulder was home to a mass of half-coagulated globs of blood, which hung down his arm like red slime. Both his eyes were blackened, with the left side of his face showing significant swelling.
“I’m fucked,” Barry croaked to himself. Tearing his gaze from the mirror, Barry limped into the living room and lowered himself carefully onto the sofa. He’d slept several hours, but the walk from the barn to the house after Devon shot him had exhausted Barry. Slowly he slid to his right until he lay horizontal on the soft cushions of the Thackers’ couch, the very family whose husband he apparently was responsible for getting killed.
The shame, pain and self-loathing Barry felt resulted in his not caring if John, Carnegie or any other bastard walked into the house and ended his misery. He lay for a long while, his chest heaving with labored breath, his gaze transfixed on an imperfection on the wall’s texture, his mind clear of all thoughts. Barry lay like this until he again fell into a deep slumber, only this time he had no dreams.
Chapter 21
After shooting Barry in the leg, Devon’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest he couldn’t stay and conversate with Barry another minute for fear of showing the wounded man just how terrified he was. He’d never taken on anyone face-to-face in his life, and although he was armed and Barry had not been, the experience had nearly derailed him. After exiting the barn, Devon sprinted south until he was over a small rise, no longer able to see the ranch house. Still breathing hard, Devon slowed to a brisk walk, heading at an angle toward Mines Road while maintaining his southerly direction of travel.
Nearing the road, Devon remained in the grassy countryside, not wanting to get caught on the road by a roving band of soldiers or any other undesirables. Walking along through the hills, Devon marveled at how easy it had been to shoot Barry in the leg. The decision had been made based on what Barry had told him Carnegie asked him to do. It had been an easy decision to stop Barry from being able to move around in an effort to locate John and the rest of the group. The actual act of shooting the man had just happened.
After the shooting, Devon nearly had a nervous breakdown, which he figured wasn’t that out of the ordinary since shooting a man in no way could be construed as a normal event, even after the solar flare. Devon felt a sense of power brought on by a surge of self-confidence after standing up to a grown man and coming out victorious. Inside, Devon felt a giddy anxiousness to find John and tell him what he’d done. He liked John, strived to impress him, and felt better about himself when John complimented Devon on a job well done.
The thought of John quickened Devon’s pace as he pressed just a bit faster, moving quietly through the landscape like an experienced outdoorsman. After an hour of walking, Devon crossed the road, preferring to move along its western edge, which offered more cover and less flatness than the eastern side presented him with. Devon moved a couple of hundred yards west, well off Mines Road, which he would only catch fleeting glimpses of from time to time. If he failed to see the road for any significant amount of time, Devon would angle back to the east until he caught sight of the paved surface; then he would continue his march south, preferring to remain a safe distance from the path more traveled.
The going was slow with all Devon’s security halts, naturally cautious tendencies, and with the difficulties in navigating the uneven and oftentimes nearly impassable terrain to the west of Mines Road. For reasons unknown even to himself, Devon didn’t worry about the speed of his progress, instead remaining singularly focused on not walking into a trap or being surprised by anyone who might be out in the countryside looking for him or his friends.
To date, Devon’s vigilant nature had proved beyond valuable in assisting him with surviving after the solar flare. More times than Devon could remember, he had been the first to spot a lone figure or a group of people. By being hyper-attentive, Devon was able to spot dangerous situations well in advance, then take the necessary measures to avoid whatever the hazard was. Devon continued to evolve into a shadow, something people might catch a short glimpse of, but never long enough to be sure what they’d seen. Most of the time, Devon remained unseen, which was how he preferred things.
As night approached, Devon hadn’t reached the reservoir and decided to bed down for the evening. He wasn’t worried about the four-legged creatures in the area as much as he was the two-legged type. Devon chose a thick patch of brush to crawl into for at least concealment from any hostiles who might happen by in the middle of the night. Under the cover of the bushes, Devon found powdery dirt trails winding throughout the entire cluster of bushes.
The trails were likely the result of coyotes, bobcats and other small animals, which used the brush for concealment from either being hunted or while they were hunting. Devon hoped any animals who might wish to use the network of paths in the near future would catch his scent and avoid the area altogether. After all, it hadn’t been all that long since mankind was the dominant species on the planet. Devon doubted the wild animals realized quite yet the slide of mankind as the dominant life-form on the planet. After eating dried meat, sleep came quickly for Devon, who, although he was young, had pushed himself over the past couple of days as hard as he’d ever done in his life.
As Jared led John, Stephani and the other two men into the Del Valle Regional Park, he shifted to the lake side of the road, slowing his mount’s pace considerably. Jared should have been excited to link up with the women and kids, but alternatively he felt a sense of dread. Jared’s mind raced over all the scenarios that seemed to come to life only after he’d thought a plan through and executed it. The reservoir seemed like a great landmark for meeting up, but now Jared wondered if he’d made a mistake sending the women here. The lake was both a water and potential food source, which would surely attract other survivors.
The more he thought of this possibility, the tenser Jared became. Eventually he led the group completely off the road and into the small rolling hills between the main road and the reservoir’s shoreline. Jared picked up a trail leading north, generally paralleling the road, and pushed forward as fast as he dared. Ten minutes after entering the park, Jared stopped abruptly, sliding off his horse and dropping to a knee before drawing his binoculars to his face. In the distance, Jared could see the VW parked next to a picnic-style table. John sidled up next to Jared, his own optics pressed to his eyes.
Both men studied the VW along with the surrounding area, but saw no sign of Shannon or anyone else for that matter. Jared’s panic meter began to spike, but then he realized all the gear was still piled inside the little vehicle, as was the gear tied to the vehicle’s exterior.
“I think they’re hiding,” Jared whispered.
John withdrew his eyes from his binoculars, nodding slowly. “Yeah, mamma bear stashed her cubs and is waiting for us.”
Jared gave a grim smile, took one last look through his binoculars, and then blew a soft whistle. A moment later, Shannon poked her head out from behind a cluster of rocks twenty yards west of the VW. Jared stood and waved as he gave another whistle. A minute later the group was reunited and asking each other a million questions as the stress from being apart was shed with every laugh and smile.
“You all see anyone out here?” Jared asked the moment he and Shannon were within earshot of each other.
“No, nothing but the wind and birds,” Shannon said, her voice giving away her relief at having Jared back with her.
“What about Calvin and the kid?” John interjected.
Shannon shook her head, a look of concern clouding her face as she stole a quick look in Margie’s direction. “Nothing, but we also haven’t looked for them,” Shannon added, trying to soften her negative response.
John scratched his beard as he scanned the surrounding terrain. “Well, this is pretty steep in a lot of places. Wonder if they came south, but stayed on the flatter lands farther east of here.”
“Where’s Devon?” Shannon questioned.
Jared looked to John to answer Shannon’s question.
“Dunno, he was out when it all went to hell. He’ll figure it out,” John answered, adding the last part as if it were a foregone conclusion.
Shannon’s pursed-lip stare told Jared and John both, she didn’t share John’s confidence in Devon’s ability to find the group and avoid the ranch house with literally zero guidance from any of them. Shannon possessed that motherly gene, so she worried not only about the smaller kids, but Devon and even the men’s welfare.
“That kid could find a needle in a field of hay,” Jared tossed in, trying to ease Shannon’s concerns for the teen.
“Well, I sure hope so,” Shannon relented.
“We need to find a secure place to set up shop, and then I’ll go out and find Calvin and your boy,” John said, turning to Margie as he finished.
“Thank you,” Margie said softly, worry and concern consuming her features.
“Stay here,” Jared told the group. “I’m going back to the guardhouse at the entrance to this place. I bet they have maps of all the trails and campsites.”
John gave Jared an approving nod of the chin before dropping his pack on the picnic table next to the VW. Jared rode back to the guardhouse and found exactly what he was looking for in the way of a small folded map of the entire area. Jared returned to the group, and together they spread the map out on the picnic table for all to study its information. Jared realized there was more to the park than just the road they were on. If they’d continued past the guardhouse, they would have crossed a bridge and come to another campground complete with cabins.
Jared pointed his finger to the cabins. “This is where we need to go. It’s a safe distance from the actual lake, and here it shows there are some type of cabins.”
“I say you, me, and Steph walk down there and do a quick recon first,” John offered.
“Can you guys hang tight for a little longer while we make sure it’s good to go?” Jared asked.
