S. Davis - 900 Miles

Forced to take a guess, I estimated that we had less than fourteen hours before we needed to get back. With a heavy sigh, I lifted my head and looked toward the tree line, but didn’t see much of anything. Keeping my eyes fixed on where I believed the mega-horde to be coming from, I leaned forward and squinted to see if I could make out anything in the distance. Nothing could be seen through the cloak of darkness.

I wish that meant nothing was out there.

The wind died to a near calm, and a slightly audible sound hit me. It was a very low-level moan. Rather, a low level of multiple moans. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear them.

I felt my skin crawl at the realization that the roar of the mega-horde was close enough to be heard. I had no way of telling how close they were, or how fast they were moving.

But I knew we had to get the hell out of there… fast.

Best laid plans… often fail.

My feet hit the ground with a thump as I dropped off the fire tower ladder. Relieved that I wouldn’t have to head back up there, I explained to Kyle and Jarvis what I’d seen… and heard.

Mulling over our circumstances for a moment, we knew we couldn’t count on anybody from Avalon to pick us up. Hell, we didn’t even know if they’d overheard the broadcast between Gordon and Rodgers. Even if they did, there certainly wouldn’t be any way for them to pinpoint our position. Kentucky was enormous, and all they knew was that we were roughly fifty miles south of Lexington. It wasn’t much to go on.

We had to assume we were on our own.

That really only left us with two options. The first was to escape by trying to make it through the woods in the hope that we’d find a road and a car with a battery that wasn’t completely dead—unlike the cars in the parking lot. However, this option was a stretch after seven months. Modern vehicles have all kinds of little electronics that drain away at the battery even when the car isn’t running. We’d learned quickly that most cars were useless without a jump start after the first two months. On occasion, it was possible to find a car that was from the seventies that would still be running… but you wouldn’t want to have to rely on it. Besides, even if you did, it was a good bet the gas had long since gone bad.

Even if we could manage to find a working vehicle, we’d still have the mega-horde to contend with. Going around them could add days onto our trip back, and we knew we didn’t have long before Gordon would mount his attack.

Our other option—our only real option—was to hit the enemy head on. With a working chopper, they had the only key to open the door to our quick return.

They must have been following close behind us. It was the only way that Gordon could have known we crash-landed in the water. Gordon was a meticulous competitor, and a working chopper sitting within our grasps reeked of a trap. With no other option, however, we decided it was our turn to put the outcome of the game in our own hands, and the chopper was the only hope. It was time to step boldly into the lion’s den.

Huddling up for a few minutes, we went over our plan. We knew what we had to do. Now it was time to see if it would work. After all, it had to. We needed to get home.

No. Matter. What.

Setting the plan in motion, I helped Jarvis head back toward the end of the parking lot. Kyle stayed behind, putting together the final touches while letting us get enough distance between him and the hell storm he was about to create.

Hitting the trailhead that the map said would lead to a parking lot around the other side of the lake, I looked over at Jarvis. “You think this is gonna work?”

Wincing in pain as he glanced back up the hill toward Kyle, he said, “No telling what Gordon’s men are up to. I do know he’s probably already figured out ten different ways for his men to trick us into making a mistake, and he’ll be ready to capitalize on every one of them.”

I let out a deep breath, searching the sky. “You seem to know more about Gordon than you’ve ever let on, Jarvis.”

He lowered himself to the ground, using the wrought iron pole as a brace.

“You’re right, John. If we make it through this, I’ll tell you all about it. What I can tell you now is that the only way to beat him is to be unpredictable. It’s how we beat him in the Arena, and it’s how we’ll beat him tonight.”

If unpredictable was what we needed… we were about to hand it out tenfold, and none of us could possibly predict just how bad it was about to get.

Seeing the look in my eyes, Jarvis softened his tone. “Cheer up, old boy. If it’s any consolation, I don’t think we have much of a choice.”

He was right.

They had us outgunned, likely out manned, and time was against us with the horde quickly approaching. When a man has his back against the wall, he has two choices. Sit down and die, or stand up and put up the fight of his life.

We weren’t ready to die.

In the distance, I saw Kyle stepping toward the bunch of sticks and brush that we’d piled up at the side of the office. As he flicked the lighter he held, it illuminated what seemed like the whole area before he leaned in to set what should have been a tiny, makeshift campfire.

At first, the blaze was small—until he threw all three lighters into the growing flame. Darting toward us, he was only about halfway through the parking lot when the first lighter melted and burst open. A small but effective fireball shot out, setting the entire pile ablaze.

The other two followed, and before we knew it, the whole side of the office building/museum was aflame, reflecting an orange glow off the clouds above. The three of us ducked just inside the tree line and waited for the hell that was coming.

The muffled voices of men came from the direction of the lake. I could see the flashlights bouncing in between the trees, and then their rays bounced over the structure

I saw Kyle’s eyes were fixed on the woods. Jarvis made eye contact with me; we both realized that this fire was going to take off way beyond what we’d originally planned. What we’d wanted to use as a distraction was looking more like it was going to turn into a pillar of fire that could be seen for miles.

Smokey the Bear flashed into my mind. With his giant brown forest ranger hat, he was repeating: Only you can prevent forest fires …

I saw the blaze take hold of the tall, dry grass next to the home and travel wildly toward the fire tower. It spread and broke out toward the nearby tree line. Dry timber and blowing leaves resting at the forest’s edge strengthened the fire’s rage.

The voices continued to get louder as three distinct lights came bouncing into view. Gordon’s men were sprinting down the path that came to a head just across from where we were hidden. If this worked, they would be popping out just twenty or thirty feet from us. If this really worked, they would run right by and up toward the office. Holding my breath, I found myself almost looking up at the sky, begging for a break.

I didn’t get one.

A stick cracked sharply, pulling my attention to the first creature as it stepped out of the forest on the far side of the parking lot from us. It was followed by the sounds of two other creatures crawling from the tree line. Moaning loudly enough to call attention to themselves, they stopped Gordon’s men dead in their tracks. I watched as our enemy doused their lights and dropped to the ground just before exiting the trail.

Shit.

Drawn in by the glowing flames, the creatures stumbled toward the office. At first, it was just a trickle. A few across from us could be seen stumbling past one of the nearby cars. Then they seemed to be crawling in from all over.