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CHAPTER NINETEEN


“Humanity’s lost and in the dark. The deepest black. That dark, lonely road to survival is scary, but we’re not giving up. No, sir. That’s not how we do things down here. We’re Texans, by God, and we’re going to survive. Nobody ever accused a Texan of running away from a fight. You know what? That still rings true today.”

From: Collected Radio Transmissions of the Fall,

University of the South Press, 2053



It took me three hours to secure the speakers to the BearCat. Sister Ann, sensing I was suffering from doubt, had left me alone for this endeavor. Kayla helped some, but she kept being distracted by Sammie, so after a while I told her to go and talk to him. She was happy for the dismissal and didn’t even argue much before disappearing inside the house with the rest of the group.

Alone with my thoughts, I was able to actually think things through. Self-doubt can be a crippling monster sometimes.

It was a stupid plan, but it was better than nothing. Still, it put myself and Sister Ann in a lot of danger. There was no way to know if it would even work. But without us, then there was no easy way to get the governor up on the mountain to safety. Plus, the clock was ticking for her daughter. We had to get them to campus, and quickly.

Lost in thought, I failed to notice Sister Ann approach me from behind.

“Madison . . .” Her hand was warm and gentle on my shoulder. I didn’t turn around. Not yet. I wasn’t ready to deal with the “what ifs” of this stupid plan. We both knew my idea was insane. She also understood this was the only way we could get the governor out of the house and to relative safety up on campus. There was a President of the United States again, sworn in, legal, and everything. America was not dead. Hurt, yes. In ruin, of course. We’d seen it, firsthand, in Covington. Cities around our country were probably worse off. Lots of places would never have someone live in them during my lifetime, or even my theoretical children’s. But one day?

Maybe.

No girl from St. Dominic’s would ever be accused of dying meekly, either. Not even the youngest under Sister Ann’s care. She’d done too good of a job helping us become more than simple societal failures. We were girls becoming young women, and in this society rising from the ashes of the old, we’d be legends.

If I could pull this off.

“It’s a risk, ma’am,” I said, not turning around. “It’s a risk we should take. The governor has . . . what did you call it? Legal authority? That will make King Dale sit down and shut up. We can hold out long enough for the marines to come, ma’am. With her governing from up on the mountain, though. Not Richmond. Here, where it’s almost safe.”

“Legal governing authority in her jurisdiction, courtesy of the state of emergency declared by both the state and federal governments,” Sister Ann corrected me in a soft voice. “This is going to be dangerous.”

“Life is dangerous, ma’am.”

“You’re starting to sound suspiciously familiar.”

“Well . . . I do have a good role model in my life I quote on a regular basis.”

Sister Ann smiled. “I know when you’re trying to butter me up for something, Madison.”

“Is it working?”

She sighed and nodded. “God help me, it is.”

“This is the best way, ma’am,” I repeated. “Like you said, the governor is the key. If she connects to that place you were talking about back on campus—”

“The Hole.”

“Yeah, that place. We have a president again, ma’am. You heard the radio. In your own words, you said the Commonwealth needs a governor. We’ve got her. She has to be kept safe until she can contact the Hole, and be connected with the President. You said that, ma’am. Remember?”

She quirked an eyebrow at me and was silent for a long moment. “Since when did you start listening to me?”

“Since the end of the world began.”

“Fair enough,” she murmured as she gently squeezed my shoulder. “With the grace of God we will face the darkness. Together.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I agreed.

“You’ve got something else in mind, though,” she said quietly, tilting her head to the left. I silently cursed. She knew me too well.

“Those pens that Officer Atkins talked about . . .”

“I was wondering if you were going to mention them to the governor.”

“If I had, she probably would have wanted to make sure they were destroyed before she got up on the mountain,” I said, looking away. “That would have probably meant the end of Maddie’s Stupid Plan before it even began.”

“You want to do something about them, don’t you?”

“The idea’s crossed my mind once or twice. I have . . . another bad idea.”

“It’s the theme of the day, it seems. But whatever you decide, I’ll support it.”

“And I’m comin’ with y’all,” a gravelly voice said from behind. Turning, I saw Temple standing there. His expression was somber. “Gotta. This is how I want it to happen. I run out of blood pressure pills next week. Probably gonna die right after. Ain’t gonna be a burden like that on y’all. You said when it was time, I wouldn’t have to do it in front of my grandbabies. Your words, Sister. This is as good a chance as any. Let me get some back, for my son. Please?”

“I . . .” Turning, I looked to Sister Ann for help. She simply shrugged her shoulders before turning to go speak with the governor. Of course. It was my call. This crazy idea was mine, after all. Since I was running this, it would be my decision to make. Being a responsible adult sucked. “Temple . . . be honest, sir. Can you handle the physicality of all this? It’s going to be rough.”

“Ain’t got a machine gun up there that I can see,” he said, confused. “Just that silly old blast shield. Stupid design if you ask me.”

“Not answering my question.”

“Just give me a rifle and all of the magazines you can spare and I’ll be fine.”

“Um . . . okay.”

There was no point in arguing with him. The old guy was determined and, at this point, it probably made more sense for me to keep him as a top gunner than trying to send him along with the governor. Besides, there would be spots I couldn’t hit a shambler from while riding inside in the BearCat. Up top, he would be able to at least let me know where they were coming from, if nothing else.

Best case? He got some measure of justice out of this. Somehow.

“I brought a Remington and one of those ancient Garand rifles that Mr. Stitmer had in his safe,” I replied, thinking of the loadout in the back of the BearCat. “The ammo clips work for both because he did something to the Remington. It made Sister Ann cross herself, so I never touched the thing. Probably cursed by the Devil or something, I don’t know. Which one do you want?”

“You got an honest-to-God Garand? I didn’t even know you had it! How many ammo clips you bring?”

Well, that answered that.


Everything was set. The governor reluctantly agreed with my stupid plan after consulting with Rafe, who didn’t think it was as stupid as I thought. Still, nobody had a better idea, so Maddie’s Really Stupid Plan was a go.

Timing everything was the key for the plan to work. To do that, I had to part with one of the three spare two-way radios remaining. Kayla promised to take care of it and give it back to us once we were on campus again, but it still felt wrong to leave it—and her.

While the governor had a map that showed the front road into the school, Kayla knew more about the Mile Marker 10 exit and would guide them past that point. The big SUV, with two full cans of gas, should be able to make it. If not, there weren’t many large communities back there, and the shamblers that had been surviving around Humpback Bridge were all dead now. The governor’s group would be armed and probably able to protect themselves if they had to go the rest of the way on foot—at least, if they made it to the exit.

There wasn’t much I could do about it but pray that they would make it. That part of the plan was completely out of my hands.

With Temple situated in the back and the BearCat’s engine rumbling in the cool afternoon sunlight, Sister Ann drove us to where Violet had spotted the roadblock that King Dale—we assumed it was him—had set up near Rainbow Gap along 220.

Iron Gate was trashed. The town hadn’t been much to begin with, according to Temple, but the subsequent shambler rampage and fires from old oil heaters going left most of the town a charred ruin. If the homes had been closer together, there’d be nothing left. Luckily—or perhaps not—there were still a few buildings here and there that had only been slightly singed by their neighbor’s fires.

It was sad and depressing. It was also part of our new reality.

“God help us . . . the entire country’s like this.”

I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Sure, the thought had been on my mind ever since I first laid eyes on the ruins of Covington after the dam collapsed. That had been a weird fluke, though. Not every city was downriver of a dam on the verge of failing. Hearing about Richmond hadn’t felt real to me. It was a distant thought, almost abstract. I don’t know why, but I somehow imagined the rest of the country to be overrun with shamblers but more or less in one piece, ready for those of us uninfected to reclaim and simply move back in.

Iron Gate ruined that hope for me.

“What can burn can be rebuilt,” Sister Ann intoned solemnly. “Don’t lose faith, Madison. We survived. Next, we thrive.”

The mantra had gotten us this far. No point in questioning it now.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said resolutely, chewing on the ends of my hair as we exited Iron Gate and entered the Rainbow Gap.

They knew we were coming. The BearCat’s engine was loud. We knew they were going to be there, hearing us, wondering. It still didn’t make the meeting any less awkward.

Sister Ann stopped well clear of the orange plastic barriers that were set up on 220, effectively blocking the way. I knew that the giant BearCat could make short work of them, but the entire point of this was to get all of their attention. Simply ramming through them would only enrage King Dale, causing him to probably chase us. But it wouldn’t do anything for the second part of my plan, which only the three of us knew about. If the governor had even suspected what we were going to try to accomplish, there was no way she’d ever let us try it.

It’s much easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission sometimes. Sister Ann told me that was the motto of the E-4 Mafia—whoever they were.

While the BearCat wasn’t in gear, Sister Ann let the engine idle. We had plenty of fuel, though I knew there was no way to replace what we had once it was gone. Still, it was better than shutting the engine off. We had no idea just how King Dale was going to react. An unprepared target was a dead target.

“Only three of them,” I pointed out as the men guarding the barricades stared at us. They were clearly confused. One of them even raised a hand in greeting. I bounced excitedly in my seat and looked at Sister Ann. “Can I?”

“You may,” she corrected after an overly dramatic sigh. I rolled down my window and waved back.

“Hi!” I shouted at them cheerfully. “We really want to go through. Can you move?”

They gathered together and started talking to one another. I don’t know what they’d been expecting when their BearCat—adorned with stick figures, flowers, and a giant sun painted on the side panels—pulled up to their little bloackade, but what they were getting was far different. Chuckling, I glanced over at Sister Ann.

“I think I broke them.”

“We’d like to pass, if you will,” Sister Ann hollered, leaning out the driver’s side window while doing so. If I’d broken them, the presence of the nun reformed their mindsets. Her they knew, and recognized. The two older men standing next to the orange safety barriers fingered their rifles and looked at one another. One of the younger men quickly ran to a dirt bike stashed alongside the road and kicked it started. It took a few tries before the engine caught and sputtered to life.

“Look,” I whispered and nodded toward the dirt bike. The rider was hightailing it out of here in a hurry, heading back toward Clifton Forge. “I guess they don’t have radios?”

“I noticed that as well,” Sister Ann replied as she gripped the steering wheel tighter. While the two guards manning the roadblock weren’t quite aiming at us yet, I could tell they were ready to. “They might have some, but be out of batteries. Can’t say for certain. Be ready. When King Dale arrives, these guards are going to become a little more nervous. They’re already nervous. He’s going to put them on edge, and that could equal disaster.”

“Nervous men with guns and a high-strung hillbilly dictator,” I quipped. “What could go wrong?”

“I’ve never told you how much I’ve appreciated your humor this past year,” Sister Ann said, turning slightly in her seat to look at me. “You really are a good leader, Madison. Not by telling people what to do or bossing them around, but by showing them how to do things, and leading by example. You might not want the responsibility, but you never shirk it. That is a trait I admire.”

“Uh . . .”

For once I was at a loss for words. Sister Ann didn’t hesitate to shower people with compliments, but this felt different somehow. More sincere. Almost like it was something she’d been holding back from me, which was odd. She’d complimented me many times in the past. One of my favorite things about her was that she always made sure to less us know how much she appreciated each girl up on campus. Even when we screwed up.

No, especially when we screwed up.

“That was fast,” Sister Ann murmured ten minutes later as three trucks came speeding along toward the roadblock. They stopped a respectable distance away from the orange barriers, parking alongside the narrow shoulder. A dozen men piled out of the trucks, each and every one of them armed with a rifle of some kind—except King Dale. His hands were free for the moment, though I could see that massive hand cannon holstered on his hip.

“You!” he thundered loud enough to be heard over our engine, his face turning a decidedly ugly shade of red and purple as he spotted his stolen BearCat. He pointed a finger at us and strode closer. He stopped when he was only ten feet away from our makeshift, rusted brush guard. None of his men followed past the barriers. “Give me back my tank!”

“He sounds angry,” I muttered. Sister Ann nodded gravely.

“That he does. At least he isn’t swearing. You see, Madison? Some lessons stick.”

“Y’all give me back my tank!” King Dale screamed at us. “I ain’t letting you past otherwise! Give me back my tank and git on back to your campus! Hell, we’ll even drive you! You’ve got nowhere else to go! Roanoke is burned to the ground!”

“Appalachia Rex, this is the last time I will correct you on this. This vehicle, which you errantly regard as a ‘tank,’ is a BearCat G3,” Sister Ann hollered back, revving the engine once to emphasize her point. “Know the machinery, respect it, and people will take your claims more seriously.”

“I will take back what is rightfully mine!”

“Take back? I got something you can take back, all right. Preferably where the sun doesn’t shine,” I murmured as I triple-checked the safety on Baby. I really didn’t want to shoot Dale or any of his cohorts. More importantly, the desire to not put a round through the floor of the BearCat was a strong one.

“Madison . . . let me handle this.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.” Even in the face of death, Sister Ann was always teaching. She never let up. It was like she was hardwired to make sure I was the best person I could be. Even when I didn’t want to be.

Especially when I didn’t want to be.

Meanwhile, King Dale’s ranting was slowly devolving into . . . something weird. “That is my chariot you done stole! A king needs his chariot! This is my kingdom, and there can only be one king! And I want my chariot back!”

The dude was seriously unhinged. Before, when we’d dealt with him, he’d seemed a bit pompous but sane. Now? He was coming off more like a crazy person than any kind of king.

“Oh, you can be king of this dung heap, hillbilly!” I shouted out the window. Sister Ann looked at me.

“I thought I asked you to let me handle this?”

“You did.”

“And?”

A pause. “I was getting bored.”

“Madison . . .”

“Okay, okay,” I said and most definitely did not roll my eyes at her. That would have been beneath me. Sister Ann told me this dozens of times before. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“You really need to rein in your temper sometimes.”

“A heart filled with anger is not the way to go through life, young lady,” Temple added from the rear passenger area, his voice audible over the steady rumble of the big engine.

“Seriously? You too?”

“If this were a movie, Madison, then your words of pithy rancor would be quite fitting,” Sister Ann admonished me in a low and gentle voice. “But this is the real world. Pithy last words don’t exist here. Antagonizing the man is not going to settle things. If anything, it could make it worse. Remember, we’re not just here to destroy a tinpot ruler’s power base. Eventually we have to be their neighbors again after this. Society is going to rebuild. Love thy neighbor . . . even if he’s a petty tyrant. Remember that.”

She had a point. It was really a bad idea to argue with a nun.

“Yes, ma’am. This isn’t a movie.”

“But quoting Aragorn in times like this is not completely unheard of.”

“Now you’re sending me mixed signals . . .”

“You need to give me back my ta—BearCat!” King Dale’s voice was growing shriller with every passing moment. Around him, I could see the men were getting antsy and anxious, their eyes darting between one another but not speaking. It was growing obvious to us that they were losing their nerve by the moment. These were men who did not want to be there. It made me wonder just what had drawn them in to King Dale’s orbit in the first place. There had to be more to it than promises of ruling Appalachia, or simply having a “plan” like Colton had claimed.

“Why do they follow him?” I asked Sister Ann as the yelling and screaming continued. He hadn’t quite slipped into full-on cursing yet, but he was getting close enough. Creatively speaking, they weren’t quite there yet. “Those men . . . they don’t look happy to be here, you know? So why stay? Why help him?”

“This is their home,” Sister Ann said. “Clifton Forge, Selma, Iron Gate, even some from Covington . . . I’m willing to bet that all of them are from this area. He gave them their homes back after the flu and the shamblers ruined it all. It’s the idea that he can give them back what they once had and allows them to forget that things can never go back to the way they were.”

“They’re also scared, Maddie,” Temple added from the back. “I know I sure was. Still am. I don’t like it, no sir, not one bit. Those boys out there? They’re just like me.”

“They’re nothing like you,” I argued with a derisive snort.

“They’re exactly like me,” he repeated. “The only difference is, most of them don’t have someone to protect anymore. Ain’t like they all still have their families or nothing, you know? They got a mind to protect their families, but they failed. Dale offers ’em something to protect again. I know you ladies probably hate hearing this, but it’s a guy thing.”

“If you say so . . .”

“He’s not wrong, Madison.”

The radio suddenly crackled to life. A very young voice came over air. “Uhh . . . green frogs sitting in a pine tree? Yeah, I know, I’m holding the stupid button. It clicked, see? Shut up! What? No! I got this! Oh, fine. Here. Green frogs in a pine tree? There . . . happy now?”

The radio went silent once more. I barely stifled a laugh. That was the twins’ code, albeit with a lot of added side commentary. I-64 was open. The twins and Lucia had managed to clear the road without any sign of King Dale’s men, as well as doing it without killing themselves or anyone within a half mile.

Probably.

One of the trickier parts of this potential mess was taken care of. In the back of my mind, I really wanted to ask the twins just how big the explosion had been. However, Sister Ann was being a stickler about what she called “comms security.” Asking for details would be a waste of time since they’d probably already turned it off and were headed back to campus.

“That’s the call. I think we’ve given them enough time to get everyone ready for Operation Maddie Has A Stupid Plan. What do you think, ma’am?” I asked. Sister Ann sighed heavily.

“Yes. Plenty of time.” She leaned forward and turned on the radio. She gave me a look, her figure hovering just over the play button. “This is going to be very dangerous, Maddie. Appalachia Rex could shoot us both. No, he’s definitely going to try and shoot us. The armor on this thing is good, Madison, but not infallible.”

“Getting shot? Ma’am, that’s, like, only the fourth thing on my list of worries right now.”

“Only fourth?”

“Number one? I really don’t want to be a shambler, ma’am.”

“Okay, that’s a good reason.”

“And I really don’t want to be caught by King Dale over there. That’s, like, two and three.”

“Fair enough. Let us go with the grace of God.”

“And Axl Rose. Push play and crank it up!”

“Oh, I love this band,” Temple said as the opening notes of Guns N’ Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle” threatened to blow out the governor’s really nice speakers. He reached up and grasped the “ready” handle on the roof. “Well, my son loved them. I’m more of a ‘Freebird’ type of guy. Whooo! Just let me know when I need to pop the turret hatch and head on up.”

“I feel way less confident about this than I did an hour ago,” I muttered under my breath. Sister Ann must have heard me. She snorted trying to hold in her laughter.

“If you were feeling confident right now I’d definitely be worried,” she said.

“What I would give for a fog machine,” I said wistfully as the screaming on the speakers began. “Having the BearCat come out of the fog would have looked pretty epic.”

“You missed your calling in theater,” Sister Ann replied. After a moment, she pursed her lips in a thoughtful manner. “Well, you could still be Air Force. You’d fit in well with them.”

I sputtered, knowing an insult when I heard one. “How dare you! You take that back!”

“Ladies,” Temple interrupted us from the rear. He’d crouched down so he could be heard better. Even over the BearCat’s engine and the guitar intro I swear I heard both his arthritic knees pop. “As much as fun as we’re having in here, it’s getting a tad hairy out there. I’m almost certain that King Dale character is about to start shooting at us.”

Glancing out the front window, I could see that Temple was right. It was time. Looking at Sister Ann, I nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

“God be with us,” Sister Ann whispered as she pressed down on the gas pedal. Engine roaring, Sister Ann slammed the vehicle into gear. Tires squealed loudly and the BearCat lurched forward—directly toward the makeshift barrier cones erected by King Dale and his cohorts. Fortunately for King Dale, and unfortunately for us, he saw our intent and quickly jumped out of the way.

The indecision was clear on the rest of their faces as the BearCat gathered more speed. None of them wanted to shoot at us. The realization, though, when they saw we weren’t about to slow down for their barricade was almost comical to watch. Yet they still didn’t shoot at us.

At that moment I knew they weren’t really our enemies. The words to explain just how I knew, though, would not come.

They had only a moment to react before the heavily armored front end of the BearCat, powered by a massive V8, filled with vehicular rage and accompanied by the opening riffs of the greatest rock song of the ’80s, made short work of the orange barriers. The men outside had scant seconds to get out of the way—though I’m almost certain Sister Ann slowed down to give them a half second more. As the barriers shattered to pieces from the weight of our vehicle, I noticed peripherally that every single one of King Dale’s men managed to avoid getting run over.

Even in the midst of chaos she remained a better person than I could ever be.

“We’re taking the hobbits to Isengaaaaard!” I shouted gleefully—and maybe, just maybe, a little maniacally—out the window as the BearCat roared up U.S. 220 toward Clifton Forge, King Dale and his men in hot pursuit, with the screaming vocals of Axl Rose leading the way.


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