Charlotte Hoaks. . . .(C. A. Hoaks)

He pointed the barrel of the automatic weapon at the man called Stubby. “You keep yourself nice and frosty.”

Grant slammed his fist on the camp table. “Who in the fuck are you?”

Matt laughed. “The guy that’s gonna shoot you if you make another move like that.” He threw a length of paracord at Stubby. “Tie up your boss.”

Stubby looked confused for a moment then slowly rose with the cord in his hand.

Tate found the man called Arty still grunting with his bare ass glowing white in the light of the moon. Tate muffled a giggle as he farted and sighed. He belched as he got to his feet and pulled his pants up.

“Sounds to me like you have a digestive problem, there Arty.” Tate laughed softly as she made sure he saw the gun in her hand. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Arty jumped and stepped in the muddy pile at his feet. “Fuck!” He slid his foot across scrub grass trying to clean his boot. “Who in the hell are you?”

Tate answered. “Not a fan for sure.”

Arty reached for his handgun and Tate squeezed the trigger.

Stubby’s friend, with the key on the string around his neck, walked to the cage. “Time for a little fun, Red.”

The women in the cage backed away from the door, all but the two Matt had spoken with. They moved toward the door where Black Beard was inserting the key into the lock.

He glared at the dark haired woman. When she didn’t move, he pointed his gun at her. “Back off bitch!”

The black-haired woman hesitated. When Black Beard pointed raised his gun, Red slipped the knife from her left hand to her right behind her back.  She looked toward her friend. “I got this.”

“That’s right bitch. Red and I are going to do a little bump and grind.” The Beard answered as he grabbed himself. He stuck the key into the padlock and opened the door then stepped to the side.  He motioned with the tip of his handgun for her to climb out of the truck.

Red stepped to the door and jumped from the truck. She landed hard on the ground falling to her knees. She sat crumpled in the dirt while the big man snapped the lock hasp close again.

Black Beard grabbed at Red’s arm just as the sound of a shot echoed in the distance. He let the barrel of the gun lower and Red swung the blade in a wide arc. She stabbed into Black Beard’s protruding gut. He stumbled back staring down at the blade.

Red pulled the blade free and swiped it across his throat. He tried to raise his gun, but Red jerked it from his grip as he fell to the ground. She pulled the keys from his neck and threw them to the waiting hands reaching from the back of the truck.

“Get out of the truck. All of you.” She tossed the knife toward the truck. “Free the Doc and his wife. Stay together and hide until this is over.”

Matt heard the shot the same time as Stubby struck out with the length of cord in his hand. Matt pressed the trigger and sprayed a burst of bullets in Grant’s direction. Stubby tackled Matt and the pair went down in a crush of swinging fist and grunts of pain. Stubby was every bit as large a man as Matt. It was not going to be a quick overpowering of the man.

Stubby rolled and slammed his fist into the side of Matt’s head. Matt blocked a second blow and swung out with the butt of the rifle. The hard plastic connected with Morgan’s head. He fell back dazed.

Matt slammed the rifle at his head again, but Stubby rolled away just in time to avoid the blow. He swung out his leg and connected with Matt’s knee. Matt went down, rolled and kicked out. His boot heel connecting with Stubby’s face.

He fell back dazed. Matt picked up the rifle and pointed it at him. He shook his head, trying to focus.  Finally, he sat up staring at Matt.

“Move again, I’ll shoot you.”

When he was sure, Stubby would remain still Matt got to his feet. He picked up the rope and quickly tied Stubby’s hands behind his back. When he was secure, Matt stepped over the man’s bound legs and checked Grant. He was barely breathing. He had a bullet hole in his chest where bubbles of blood hissed with air.

Matt rose just as the tent flap flew open and Tate rushed in with a gun in hand. The two women from the truck followed her ready to rumble.

“Well, I guess we got this done,” Tate announced.

The dark-haired woman stomped over to Stubby and kicked him in the balls. He howled in pain, rolled over, curling his knees against his chest trying to protect his crotch against another assault.

“Pig!” She pulled her leg back to kick again but Red stopped her.

“That’s enough.” She grabbed the gun from the dark-haired woman. She pointed it at Stubby’s temple and fired before anyone could stop her.

“What the fuck!” Matt grabbed the handgun from Red.

“He killed my husband. He raped Theresa and two of the other women.” She answered.

Tate stepped up to Matt and placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back from the body. “I would have done the same. Let’s get out of here.”

She grabbed Red’s arm and led the two women out of the tent. Matt followed after a backward glance at the two bodies in the tent.

Outside, Doc and his wife and three children were huddled together still looking a bit like deer in headlights. Besides, Red and Theresa seven women and two more children stood waiting for someone to speak.

Tate looked at Matt. “We have sixteen people here. What are we going to do with ‘em?”

Matt nodded toward the vehicles. “We take ‘em back to the camp.”

Tate laughed. “You just the fucking Pied Piper, Monroe.”

Red and Tate went back for the white rig and the guns stowed inside. By the time they returned Matt had drivers and guards assigned to trucks. None of the women had options so they agreed with Matt’s plan. Amid the supplies, clothes were sorted and distributed to those in need.  All were fed.

They gathered the remaining supplies, but left the tent as it was. No one wanted to salvage anything from the men other than their weapons. Matt had retrieved the guns as they walked out of the tent.

Tate led the caravan away from the site of the carnage and toward sanctuary.

Matt slipped back into the shadows. He lowered the body of the guard he had just killed to the ground. He retrieved the weapons and dragged the corpse behind a mound of rocks. He watched the pickup pull to the far side of the camp and park. He hoped Tate got Rodney secured and silenced as planned. If he didn’t fight back, Rodney might survive but, then what? What do I do with a man who took part in abducting and abusing women? Matt mentally shrugged, that decision would have to wait.

There were six men in camp according to Rodney. It sounded right with what Matt had seen. One guard down, five to go. Matt jogged into shadows around the back of the camp watching the two men standing at the edge of camp.

“I plan on getting to know that little red head tonight.” A big man with a thick black beard laughed.

The short guy retorted. “She’s a feisty bitch for sure. Think you can handle her?”

“Damned straight, Arty.” The beard laughed.

Arty laughed. “I gotta drop a load, so wait till I come back before you go courtin’, Josh. That bitch will take off your head if you try something without some backup.”

Matt watched a third guard near the truck where the women were held.  He decided he would be next neutralized.

The man walked from the front of the vehicle to the back. He glanced around the camp while he lit a cigarette. With the tip of the cigarette glowing red he paced to the front of the truck. He settled on the bumper smoking and stared out into the shadows.

Matt slipped to the side of the truck with the eyes of the women following him. He held his finger to his lips and crouched in the shadows of the truck and waited.

The guard rose and dropped the cigarette butt on the ground and smashed it into the dirt with his boot. He looked up at the women and slapped the screen. “What the fuck are you looking at, bitch?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” The red head snapped with a wicked grin.

The guard stepped to the back of the metal cage. Matt rose from the shadows and slit the guard’s throat. After a quick jab of the blade into his temple, he released the body and nudged it under the truck.

The red head rushed to the screen. “Help us!” She whispered. “Get us out of here.”

“Who has the key?” Matt slipped the guard’s handgun and knife through the bars into the cage. “Be damned careful who you shoot at with this. A friend of mine is out there. If you shoot her or me I’ll be pissed.”

“The big guy with the beard has the key.” She answered as she accepted the gun and knife. She passed the gun to another woman.

“Him and his friend will be coming to see you in a few minutes. See if you can get him to open the cage then kill them. I’m going after the last two.”

“I’ll take care of Black Beard.” The red head announced. “I want to be the one to kill him.”

“Who’s the boss and where is he?” Matt asked.

“He’s in the tent. His name is Gregory Grant. He’s always got a guy named Stubby with him.” Another woman answered. “There were only six left in camp until the truck came back.

“Don’t worry about the two in the truck. What about the old couple?” Matt asked.

“They’re keeping them alive because he’s a doctor. They’re being used to cook and take care of us. They won’t fight back because their grandkids are in here with us. Those assholes killed their folks.” The red head answered.

“That means there’s four left.” I’m going after the pair in the tent. If the other two come after you, kill them.”

The red head smiled. “We can take care of them.”

The woman with the black eye stepped closer. “Give me a chance and I’ll take care of Arty.” She hid the gun in the folds of her skirt.

Matt gave a quick nod and disappeared into the shadows again. He moved toward the tent until he heard the sound of angry voices. It came from the truck. A door slammed.

A man’s voiced cures. “Bitch!”

There was a muted thwack and then silence. Matt saw a single figure move into the shadows at the edge of camp. The slender figure reappeared heading toward the caged truck. Matt stepped back into the shadow of the truck and disappeared. I guess Rodney didn’t play nice.

Matt heard Tate’s footsteps before he saw her step into the moonlight. She startled when he appeared next to her.

“Rodney?” Matt whispered.

“He won’t trouble anyone else, again.” Tate whispered. “How many left?”

“Four. I’m going after two in the tent. There’s a big guy and a greasy little shit walked off that way to take a shit.” Matt whispered back as he pointed toward the back of the camp.

“I’ll find him.” Tate shrugged. Matt reached out, but Tate held up her hand. “I got this.”

Tate stepped into the brush heading toward the direction Matt had indicated the man had gone. She stopped and listened. Night sounds filled the evening. She moved slowly through the shadows created by the branches of the oaks overhead.

Matt slipped away from the truck, all the while watching the tent for the two survivalists described by the women. He took a quick survey of the camp then studied moved closer to the tents. From one he heard voices.

A gravely male voice ordered. “Take care of Doc and Granny. Make sure they’re chained to the car again. I don’t want them wandering around getting ideas.”

“They won’t. The kids are still locked in the truck.” A second male voice answered.

“I don’t care. I want ‘em secured.” The gruff voice ordered. “Have the rest of the men come back?”

“No. Not yet. Rodney said they picked up the soldier’s rig and were getting extra diesel from behind the shed.”

“Good. With the extra fuel we can make it to the camp by tomorrow afternoon. We’ll refuel then head out first thing in the morning. With this trip there’ll be enough women for a bit of comfort.” He laughed.

“Yes sir.” A second voice answered. “Moving the camp to the edge of Indian Springs was a good idea. If they’ve followed orders at campgrounds we’re set for the duration.”

“Duration, hell!” Grant answered. “Stubby, you don’t get it. It’s Armageddon. I’ve led the faithful into the Promised Land. We have thousands of acres fenced off and secured by the government. From the same fucks that wrought this plague on the good folks of Texas. It’s our duty to bring the weak and defenseless into the fold.”

“Yes sir.”

Matt reached for the flap of the tent with the automatic pointed at the two men sitting on camp chairs with a table and bottle between them in the room sized tent. “Keep your hands on the table, gentlemen.”

The second man rose to follow but found Matt rushing toward him. In a flash, he swung out his left leg and connected with Matt’s side. Matt doubled over, spun and kicked out himself. His foot connected with the man’s leg and the man went down. He tucked his body and rolled away coming up with his handgun in his hand. As he brought the barrel to aim, a shot rang out.

Matt saw a flash from the hay bale and threw up his hand in a careless wave. He hunkered down ready to follow the last man when three more shots rang out in the distance.

Snorts and stomping hooves filled the night. The sound of a thundering stampede of hooves filled the night. Another terrified scream was suddenly muffled by the sound of the charging buffalo.

Matt reached the corner of the shed and looked around in time to see a man disappear under the mass of moving bodies. The herd trampled over the ground where the man had been standing. The herd in mass, ran past the building, made a wide arc and moved off into the distance.

When the sound of the herd disappeared, Matt made his way to where the man had disappeared amid the stampede. There was little left of him. The chest was crushed, while the man’s arms and legs were broken and bent in odd angles.

Matt turned toward the hay bales and double clicked his LED light. Tate blinked her light back. Matt watched as a slender shadow appeared from the top of hay. She looked toward the retreating herd one last time then slid down the side of the bale.  She began making her way toward the light then stopped at the body of the man she had shot. The bullet had gone into the middle of the chest and blown out the back of his spine.

When Matt approached, she asked. “Well, did we kill ‘em all?”

Matt answered. “Except for one, I left strung up a ways back.”

Tate looked at the body on the ground. The lower jaw had begun to work spastically. “Now that’s fucked up.”

Matt squatted down next to the body to get a better look. “I thought it took a bite or blood to get the virus.”

Tate let out a long breath and whispered. “You know what that means?”

Matt looked confused. “Not exactly, no.”

Tate gagged. “It’s air born. The virus has mutated and we’re all going to come back.” She leaned over with her hand on her knees taking deep breaths fighting the clinching of her stomach. She could feel the nausea begin to fade. “The world is fucked.”

“Looks like it.” Matt pulled his blade and slid the ten inch steel into the attacker’s eye socket and twisted. “Let’s go talk to a man about those women and kids.”

As Matt led Tate to the man hanging from the oak limb, he retrieved the weapons he had hidden. He only bothered with the handgun from the trampled man. The rifle barrel had bent under hooves of the herd.

When they got to the oak tree, Tate gasped when she saw a man swinging from the oak limb. The whites of his eyes glowed in the shadows of the night. He was terrified. Matt got to his side and untied the bandana and pulled the end of the rag from the man’s mouth.

“Talk.” Matt ordered.

The man moaned. “I can’t feel my hands. Cut me down.”

Tate walked up and slapped the man’s face. “Quit whining. Now tell us about the women in the cage, asshole.”

The man looked panicked. “They’re for the camp. We were alone. Jed said we needed women. It’s his place.”

Matt stood back and folded his arms across his chest.  Tate leaned closer with an angry scowl.  “What kind of place?”

“Camp.  He’s a survivalist sort of.  We went out to shoot guns and had a couple whores….”  His voice trailed off when he noticed the look on Tate’s face.

She slammed her fist into the man’s gut. “You fuckers kidnapped ‘em?”

“Well?” The man began, but Matt grabbed his face in a vice-like grip. “You’re going to tell us all about the camp. How many men are went on this little kidnapping raid and who’s in charge? Where they’re camped, now.” He leaned close and spoke softer yet. “If you don’t tell me everything, I’ll slit you open and leave you tied to a tree with your own guts.”

The man nodded his head. “I’ll tell you!”

An hour later, Tate, Matt and Rodney, the kidnapper, were headed back to the camp where the women were being held. Rodney drove, Tate sat next to him in the truck cab with a gun pressed into his rib. Matt stood in the truck bed with his boonie hat pulled down over his face.

“Make this good or I’ll start shooting and you’ll be the first one I take out.” Tate ordered.

Matt studied the camp as they approached. The only people they had to watch for were an elderly couple that had been in the Oldsmobile. Their daughter and two grandkids were in the cage so easily controlled.

Six survivalists remained in camp to control the old couple and the caged women. Rodney slowed when he neared the camp and saw the first guard. Matt slipped from the back of the truck.

“Don’t do anything stupid and you might live through this.” Tate advised in an angry whisper.

“Sammy? That you?” Rodney asked as he neared a man standing guard at the entrance of a farmhouse driveway.

“Sure is. Where’s the rest of the men?” Sammy asked.

“Bringing up the big truck soon as they syphon diesel from another truck. They’ll catch up soon enough.” Rodney glanced toward Tate.

“Good deal. We need all the fuel we can get.” Sammy laughed. “Head on in. Cows are fed and it’s almost time to check out one or two.” He laughed wickedly.

Tate jammed the gun in Rodney’s rib. “Move out, she hissed.

Rodney pulled away. Tate glanced back and saw a shadow swallow Sammy in a deadly embrace.

Matt hurried after the two men sent into the woods. After a five minute sprint through the dark, he heard them. Slowly, he advanced. He saw their silhouettes against the fading night sky. They carried rifles held to their shoulders, fanning the barrel back and forth as if monsters would jump from every shadow. They drew close to a massive stand of mesquite.

Matt grinned. HE was the monster, they were expecting. He slipped deeper into the gloom of the mesquite bushes and picked up a rock. He glanced at the pair then tossed the stone to the opposite side of the pair. Both men stopped, frozen in place.

After a brief whispering conference, one of the men headed toward the sound where the rock had landed. The second man stood still waiting for his companion to check out the noise. His hands trembled holding the rifle as he moved his weapon covering his cohort.

Matt stepped back into the shadows. It took several seconds to circle to the back of the cluster of mesquite. He stood so close to the man’s side he could hear the man’s raspy breathing. Matt side-stepped behind him, pulled his head up, and drove the blade up into the flesh under the man’s chin. He pulled the inch blade free.

Without a sound, the man relaxed against Matt’s chest. Matt grabbed the rifle strap before the weapon could fall from his fingers. He pulled the body back into the brush and slowly eased it down into the dirt. He placed his foot on the dead man’s back and rolled him under the brush.

Footsteps in the dark alerted Matt of the second man’s approach. Matt stepped behind a forked cedar as he listened to the man draw closer.

An aggravated whisper called out. “Asshole, where the fuck are you?  Get over here!”

Matt whispered. “Help me.”

“Where are you?” The man stopped and whispered back.

“Here.” Matt whispered.

The man took a tentative step forward, then another and another. Suddenly Matt slammed the butt of the confiscated rifle in the man’s head. The man went down without a sound out cold. Matt took less than a minute to string the man up under a massive oak limb with a length of cord. The man’s feet dangled inches from the ground when Matt was done.

After taking a few seconds to search the man’s pockets, Matt fished out a used handkerchief. He shoved it in the man’s mouth, pulled a second from his own pocket and forced it into the man’s open mouth and tied it behind his head. He gave the man a shove and walked away. He picked up both rifles and handguns. He slid them under the brush where he’d left the other man’s body.

Matt glanced toward the road and realized he was less than a quarter mile from the shack. The moon was up full and bright. He sprinted after the two men sent to circle around the front of the shed.

Tate lay out on the hay bale nearly forty feet from the corner of the shed. She could see the hint of light from the lantern inside through the weathered boards. She had a clear view from the roadway to the pasture behind the shed. She kept her eyes moving, examining every shadow, looking for movement from the road to the woods.

Suddenly she noticed half a dozen dark shapes appear from the woods to lumber across the pasture toward the shed. Tate watched the four legged, short-horned, thick bodies plod toward a water tank. She heard a nearby snort and realized another dozen animals rounded the hay bales heading off to meet the rest of the herd.

She studied the shapes and decided they were buffalo, not cattle. She knew of a couple ranches in the Hill Country supplied buffalo meat to specialty restaurants in Houston and Austin. This could be one of them. Getting back to the truck might be interesting with a herd of buffalo to avoid. They were unpredictable and would kill if they felt threatened.

Tate saw a sudden glint of light from the road. She squinted and made out two bent shadows rushing across the blacktop.

Tate followed the moving silhouettes with the rifle scope as they sprinted toward the shed. The men made it across the open road and squatted at the corner of the fence pointing rifles toward the shed. After a full minute, one of the men rose, rushed to the corner and disappeared into the shadows.