Running Towards The Abyss Read online

  As they continued to kiss, they both felt their passion rising, not wanting to break their embrace. Chuck pulled the towel off of Beth’s head, running his hand through her damp hair, savoring her scent. A knock at the door startled them and they stepped back, out of breath. They looked at each other with wide eyes and a realization that they really cared for each other.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath, walked over, and opened the door. Jake Nicholson was standing there, holding two glass tumblers in one hand and a rolled up pair of blue jeans in the other. He was surprised to see Elizabeth, breathing heavily with a flushed face, standing in Chuck’s doorway.

  “Hi, Mr. Nicholson, come on in.” Beth took his arm and led him inside. “I was just taking Chuck’s clothes off for laundry,” she said, blushing again. “No, I mean, he just needs a few things washed and I was going to make sure it got done.”

  Jake gave a wry smile, noticing how flustered she was. “You feel better after a hot shower, Elizabeth?”

  “So much better. Thanks for getting them to turn the generator on. I know it was off-schedule but much appreciated.”

  “You know I’d do anything for you,” Jake said, softly patting her shoulder.

  Beth smiled back at him as she bent down, picking up McCain’s dirty garments. Chuck reached into his backpack and pulled out several other shirts and things that needed to be washed.

  Jake handed Chuck the blue jeans he was holding. “I see Elizabeth brought you some fresh clothes, but here’s a pair of jeans I pulled out of lost and found that I think they’ll fit you. And that’s really a nice shade of lipstick you’re wearing, McCain,” Nicholson said, nodding at the big man’s face.

  Now it was Chuck’s turn to blush. He wiped his hand across his mouth, trying to get rid of Beth’s lipstick.

  “Thanks for the jeans,” he managed to say.

  Beth giggled, hurrying for the door, saying “It’ll probably be tomorrow sometime before your laundry is dry. I was thinking, maybe after dinner, we could take a walk and I could show you around the campus?”

  “I’d like that,” Chuck answered. “Let’s plan on it.”

  “Well, I’ll let you two talk and I’ll see you at dinner,” Beth said, smiling at the men as she closed the door behind herself.

  Jake nodded at Chuck, a slight grin on his face. McCain smiled and shrugged.

  “Come on into the sitting room,” Chuck said, pulling the bottle of Evan Williams Bourbon out of his backpack.

  Nicholson’s eyes took in the arsenal of weapons laying on the unused bed and he let out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of guns.”

  “It sure is,” McCain agreed, thankful to change the subject. “Some of them came from your people. The others belonged to their killers. Most of those were in the house where I rescued Beth. Of course, you can take the ones that are yours, but I have a proposition that I think you’ll be interested to hear.”

  Jake’s eyes showed interest and he nodded, following Chuck into the adjacent room. McCain again noticed the other man’s odd gait as he walked. Nicholson eased into a brown leather chair opposite of McCain on the matching leather couch. The Marine placed the two glasses on the small table between them and the federal police officer poured a healthy amount of whiskey into both tumblers.

  Nicholson closed his eyes, held the glass up to his nose, and inhaled. He took a drink, smiling at McCain. “It’s been a long time.”

  Jake put the glass down and looked at Chuck. “I want to hear what happened out there with Elizabeth and I’d like to talk to you about our security here. But, first, I want to know up front, are you and Elizabeth sleeping together?” Nicholson held out his palms. “I know it’s none of my business, but hear me out.

  “I don’t have any kids of my own but Elizabeth’s like a daughter to me. She’s been through a lot and I feel very protective towards her, as well as all the other kids on this campus. Most of the boys that we have here are good kids but they’re still boys, and we have a lot of attractive young women, as well. I’m sure there’s a lot going on behind closed doors that I don’t know or even want to know about.

  “And I understand that Elizabeth isn’t really a kid. She, Tina, Jason, and I’ve been the ones in charge but, really, Elizabeth is the one we all defer to. She’s the highest ranking faculty member to stay behind and she’s a natural leader.”

  As Jake had started talking, McCain felt a flash of anger that this stranger would ask such a personal thing. If the roles had been reversed, however, Chuck would have felt the same way. He was always overly protective of his daughter and even some of her friends who didn’t have an involved father.

  McCain looked Nicholson in the eye. “No, we haven’t had sex. We did sleep together, clothed, trying to stay warm when that snowstorm came through. The offer was made, but I turned it down. She’d just been through something very traumatic and I didn’t want to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable state. Plus, I’m sixteen years older than she is.”

  Jake took in this information, picking his glass back up. “You’ve got more self-control than most men would’ve had. Either way, she’s different now. She’s not the same girl who left on that foraging trip.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “McCain, I haven’t seen Elizabeth smile or laugh in months. After the incident with her parents, she withdrew into a shell. She still functioned, as we’ve all tried to get through this crisis, but she didn’t talk any more than she had to and stayed in her dorm room or her office for hours at a time.

  “We all knew she was depressed, but none of us knew how to help her. Now she’s back, acting like her former, happy self. I can’t remember the last time she was so…bubbly,” Nicholson said, finding the word he was looking for, and motioning with his glass to the other room where the three of them had just been.

  “And for what it’s worth,” Jake continued, “all the students noticed the difference at the meeting. Alicia even told me, ‘I don’t know what that big man did to Miss Benton but I hope he keeps doing it.’”

  Chuck smiled and looked out the window, melting snow still on the ground. This really is a beautiful campus, he thought, looking at the trees surrounding it.

  “If I’m honest,” McCain said, looking back at Nicholson, “and if she’s honest, we do have feelings for each other. But I’m planning on leaving in a couple of days. I’ve got to find my daughter.”

  Jake listened as Chuck told him of his search for Melanie and what his plans were. McCain also told him a little more of how he came to be in the right place at the right time to rescue Beth. Chuck didn’t need to embellish the details. Any way you looked at it, one man taking out four armed men was pretty impressive. The very fact that McCain put his life at risk to rescue someone he didn’t know told Nicholson a lot about Chuck McCain.

  They were both on their second tumbler of bourbon when Chuck asked, “What about you? You said you were a Marine. How’d you end up teaching here?”

  Nicholson grunted. “I was planning on being a lifer and had just made E-6 after nine years. I was in Combat Logistics. That’s Marine-speak for a transportation unit. We supported the front line troops. I made sure my Marines not only knew how to drive and pack those big trucks, I also made damn sure they had all the tools and skills to repair those beasts. The long stretches of desert road in Iraq were not a place where you wanted to be broken down.

  “My last convoy, we were transporting supplies and a new rifle company to a FOB, a forward operating base.” Jake’s eyes looked past Chuck to a spot on the wall. McCain had seen that look on more than one veteran’s face as they relived a memory.

  “We got ambushed,” Nicholson continued. “I was riding shotgun in the lead truck and an RPG slammed into us, just up from the driver’s door and blew it off. It killed him instantly and knocked me half-way out of the cab. The insurgents had done what they intended: hitting us first and blocking the road.

  “When I came to, I heard the bullets pinging into the body of the truc
k where they were trying to shoot me. I was hanging out of the vehicle by the remains of my right leg but thankfully, they’re crappy shots. More RPGs and small arms fire were raking the convoy. Then I heard this voice ordering his Marines to ‘get into the fight and start killing those bastards.’

  “The rifle company we were transporting dismounted and started returning fire. All of a sudden, this streak came running towards me from the rear of the convoy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a human being run that fast, and he was shooting while he ran. He got to me and I saw that it was the young second lieutenant whose platoon we were transporting.

  “He pulled me free from the truck and laid me on the ground. That was when I realized my right leg was mostly gone at the knee. It was just being held on by a little tissue and muscle.”

  Jake pulled his right pants leg up to show Chuck the prosthetic. McCain nodded. The odd gait now made sense.

  “So this LT put a tourniquet on me but I’d already lost a lot of blood. When I started fading, he slapped me in the face and told me that he was ordering me to stay alive. He’d yell at me to stay with him and squeeze off some suppressing fire. He got real excited after he picked off one of the bad guys who was getting ready to fire another RPG at us. His Marines started moving forward and within minutes they had killed or run off all of the insurgents. They called in a chopper to medevac me and the other casualties out of there.”

  Nicholson pulled himself out of the memory and took a drink of his bourbon. “I’d love to know whatever happened to that lieutenant. There’s no doubt in my mind he saved my life.”

  McCain smiled. “Well, if that was a Lieutenant Jimmy Jones, I can tell you exactly what happened to him.”

  Jake’s eyes opened wide. “That was his name! How in the world did you know?” he demanded.

  “I am or was, depending on how this thing plays out, the OIC of the Atlanta unit for CDC Enforcement,” Chuck answered. “Jimmy’s one of my guys and I read his file. He was awarded the Bronze Star with the Combat V for his actions that day. His CO recommended him for the Silver Star but it got downgraded. His men stopped the ambush and killed seven of the terrorists. Your driver was the only KIA. You and two others were wounded.”

  Nicholson nodded. “I didn’t know that he’d been decorated. Good for him. He definitely deserved it. I’m surprised to hear he left the Corps. He seemed like a good officer with a promising career ahead of him.”

  McCain nodded. “He made captain and did a second tour in Iraq. Then his mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer and he got out to be with her during her last year. After she passed, he became a cop in Alabama for a few years and then decided to go federal and joined us. He’s a good one. I’ll hook you guys up after, well, if things ever get back to normal.”

  “That’d be nice. Anyway, after that I was medically discharged. I was living over in Greenville at the time and was looking on-line for jobs and saw the listing for teachers in the ‘Commercial Truck Driving,’ and ‘Automotive Technology’ courses. They must’ve not had many people apply because they hired me,” the Marine chuckled.

  They sat in a comfortable silence, sipping their drinks.

  “Elizabeth told me that she thinks you can help us with our defenses here,” Jake said, his tone flat, clearly not excited by the idea.

  Chuck shook his head. “No, from what I’ve seen you guys have everything under control. Remember, my background is mainly law enforcement. Perimeter and site security is more of a Marine’s sweet spot. Now, if you’d like, I’d be happy to let you show me around and see what I can see. Sometimes a pair of fresh eyes can notice things that you might’ve missed. Plus, the army SF guys that I worked with did show me a few tricks.”

  Jake grunted, satisfied with Chuck’s answer. In some ways, McCain was still an unknown entity and Nicholson did not need him just showing up, trying to change things. In reality, though, Jake knew Chuck probably could help them. Nicholson had trained their sentry teams, teaching them all he knew but, even though he was a Marine, he’d seen minimal combat.

  “What about all those weapons?” Jake said, motioning towards the other room. “You said something about a proposition?”

  “They’re all yours. I’ve already pulled what I wanted and I figure you guys need them more than I do. I’ll just need some things in return.”

  Jake’s eyes lit up. “That’s a big help, McCain. We only have weapons for about a quarter of the people here. That should put us closer to thirty-five or forty percent of our residents armed.”

  “How are you set for ammo?”

  “Pretty good. The campus police have a stock of 9mm, 5.56, and .12 gauge.”

  “Great,” Chuck said. “I need some 9 mil and 5.56 to restock my supply. It’s been a rough month. I also need a vehicle. Have you got something I can have? Preferably something you don’t need back.”

  Nicholson sat silent for a moment and then nodded his head. “You can have one of the campus maintenance trucks. It’s a few years old but it runs great. I teach some of the classes in the automotive repair section and we use the school’s vehicle pool to practice tune ups and oil changes. It should do you good.”

  “Perfect, thanks. So, Jason and Tina were the only two campus police officers to stick around?” Chuck wondered.

  “That’s right. This was Storey’s room,” Jake said, motioning outward with his hands. “Elizabeth sent a couple of students over here to pack his stuff up before Alicia brought you over.”

  That makes sense, Chuck thought. Those are his things in the boxes in the other room, stacked in the corner.

  “He and Tina didn’t have any relatives in the area and so they chose to stay. And, especially lucky for me because Tina and I have gotten really close,” Jake said, smiling. “It’s funny. I don’t think we ever had a conversation before the zombies showed up but now, let’s just say we spend as much time together as we can.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” McCain said. “She seems like a super person.”

  Nicholson nodded and asked, “What else?”

  “How are y’all set for food? You’ve got a lot of mouths to feed.”

  “You and Elizabeth brought us a big load of supplies. With what we already had, we’re good for a few weeks. As you’ll see at dinner, no one’s going to get fat here, but we’re all surviving. A couple of our students are hunters and manage to take down the occasional deer and small game. I figure I’ll give it two weeks and then we’ll need to send another team out.”

  After another sip of his drink, Jake asked, “Is Elizabeth going with you when you leave?”

  Chuck was surprised at the question. “No way. It’s too dangerous and she’s no cop or soldier. She told me you gave her a little weapons familiarization and I worked with her some, as well, but I don’t want to see her get hurt. No, it’s better if she stays here.”

  Even as he said it, Chuck felt conflicting emotions. He was beginning to think that he had actually fallen in love with the girl and he couldn’t bear the idea of seeing her get hurt again. After Rebecca’s death, he didn’t think he would ever be able to love again. I guess I was wrong, he thought.

  Jake nodded but said, “I saw the way that she looked at you. That’s going to be a tough sell.”

  Truck Stop, South of Carnesville, Northeast of Atlanta, Thursday, 0230 hours

  The scene inside the truck stop was almost as confusing as the one back at their safe house. Don’s flashlight illuminated a young black male lying just inside the door. He had been shot several times in the chest and abdomen. Another bullet had struck him on the side of the head.

  Further inside the business, they found Jerry. He had taken a close range shotgun blast high up on his right thigh. The wound was gaping and the surrounding floor area was a frozen pool of blood.

  Opposite Jerry lay a white guy wearing soft body armor with several holes in it. Joey speculated that it was probably 5-0’s AK-47 that had done the damage. Soft body armor would never stop an AK round. This dead man
also had a hole in his head.

  A few feet further to their left they found a light-skinned black female, on her side in the fetal position. Joey rolled her over, noting the wounds to her stomach and chest. He normally would not have wanted to touch her dead body but the events of the previous months had hardened all of them. Frozen blood pooled around her as well, and there was also a bullet hole behind her right ear. Empty brass casings and shotgun shells littered the scene.

  “This one was a cop,” said Hoss. He had pulled Officer Jason Storey’s badge wallet out of his rear pocket. “His ID says that he was a Campus Police Officer at The Northeast Georgia Technical College.”

  “Don, check that dead guy by the door and see if he has any kind of identification,” said Joey, digging through the dead girl’s pockets, pulling out a student ID card from the same school where the cop had worked.

  “He’s got a student ID from that technical school, too!” Don called over, holding up Lamar’s laminated identification card.

  Joey turned the information over in his mind. He sensed that there was a connection between what had happened at their safe house and the dead bodies here, but he just had no idea what it was. Mike Carter would have been able to put the pieces together but now Joey’s friends were looking to him for guidance.

  “What do you think, man?” asked Wesley.

  “I think we’re going back to school,” Joey finally answered.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Survival

  Abandoned house, Thursday, 1000 hours

  Elizabeth held the Springfield XD pistol in the solid two-handed stance that Chuck had taught her. She was a quick learner, he noted approvingly. Mr. Nicholson had given her a lesson on gun handling the day before her team’s ill-fated journey to get supplies. Now, McCain spent over an hour working with her on her stance, grip, use of sights, and movement to cover.

  Beth then practiced dry-firing for another hour. Dry-firing or firing the gun without ammunition is a great way to train one’s fundamentals when live fire is not an option. A good trigger pull is an essential skill for using any firearm. Jerking the trigger pulls the muzzle off of the target and can cause a miss. Chuck patiently cocked and recocked the pistol as Elizabeth worked on pulling the trigger correctly.