We pulled away from Joslin, keeping a sharp eye out for any additional traps or snipers. I used Charlie’s scope and spotted what might have been two or three people on rooftops looking us over with binoculars. I sent a shot at one, causing them to duck for cover. It was over eight hundred yards and I would have been stunned by a hit, but I’ll take a duck at that range.
“Did you elect him?” Charlie asked from the pilot’s seat.
I laughed, understanding his reference. “No, but I nominated him real good.”
We continued to head south, passing through familiar territory. We had been this way earlier this year and I had to shake my head at the memories. I was still amazed Charlie and I made it out of Coal City alive. Too lucky, I thought.
The sun was fast approaching its zenith when we moved around the bend where we had stopped to go to State Center Bravo. I wondered how Trevor was doing since he and his men had gone in search of answers at the other state center. Charlie swung the boat around to the dock we had spent the night at before and we quickly reconnoitered some additional gasoline for the boat. Our buddy from the machine shop was still there, although he looked to have been chewed a bit by local fauna.
After the brief stop, we moved on to unfamiliar waters. I was sure of where we were according to the map I had, but I had no clue as to what lay ahead regarding the towns that were on the river or what else we might encounter. The first town we were supposed to come in contact with was Morris, but since it had a major highway running through it, I did not think it would have escaped the infection. But I have been wrong before and this might be one of those times.
As we pulled under the bridge to Morris, it was immediately apparent the infection had indeed struck this town. I could see shadowy shapes flitting from building to building and the omnipresent white flags were everywhere. The town seemed abandoned, but I knew there were still occupants, although likely none living.
I shook my head at Charlie as he slowed down and we sped up again, leaving Morris in our wake. We moved down a long stretch of river with untended farms on both sides. We could see the silos of farms in the distance, but had no desire to investigate. I had to assume that since Morris had been hit, that the outlying farms and small towns were hit as well when the ghouls ran out of food in the main communities they headed out to the country. No single family home could withstand a siege from hundreds of hungry, determined zombies. I had seen too many homes with the windows smashed in, the doors broken, and bloodstains marking the walls and floors.
The next town we were supposed to come close to was Seneca, which was a small, older community on the river. If I remembered correctly, there was a row of homes on an upper portion of the town, almost on cliffs. If they could have made a coordinated stand and blocked the entrance to the subdivision, there might be survivors.
We slowed to an easy drift as we approached the town, passing several barges abandoned at the side of the river. I couldn’t see the town, but I could see the long dock on the south side of the river with many boats still moored. I took that as a positive sign. My confidence was further bolstered when we spotted a lone man standing on the bridge, a scoped hunting rifle balanced on his hip. He was waving to us and I shrugged my shoulders at Charlie and, standing on the roof of the cabin, I tossed a mooring line up to him.
The man caught it with his free hand and looped it around a bridge support, holding on to it tightly. Charlie cut the engine and the boat slowly swung around under the bridge, until we came out facing the other way and facing the man on the bridge. He was about fifty years old, dressed simply, with graying black hair peeking out from beneath a worn camouflage cap. I could see an additional revolver on his belt and the bridge had been blocked at one end with a chain link gate.
“Howdy!” the man called down to us. “Nice to see another live soul ‘round these parts. Name’s Josh Courtner. Where y’all from?”
I smiled at the man’s southern accent although we were still in what many considered northern Illinois. “We’re from Leport. I’m John Talon and my partner at the tiller is Charlie James. How’s your town?”
The gentleman considered the question for a minute, then replied, “We’re gettin’ by. The kids are complainin’ they’re bored, but that’s ‘bout the worst of it. Did you pass Morris?”
“Yes,” I said. “We didn’t go in, but I got the impression it was empty, nothing living.”
“We’ve thought so for months, but never got around to checking it out. We’re too busy tryin’ to make a livin’ in a world gone dead.” Josh seemed amused by his statement, but I didn’t press him further. I had seen enough to know that unless he went in there with some decent firepower and cool shooters, someone was going to die.
“What brings y'all down the river?” Josh asked. “Not that I mind, it's great there's another town that's alive out there, we thought we were a little alone, here.”
“I'm looking for my brother,” I said. “His name is Mike Talon, he would have been traveling with his family. He's about my size, dark hair, and blue eyes. I'm not sure when he might have passed this way.”
Josh thought for a minute. “Would this brother of yours been carrying a 9mm Beretta, by any chance?” he asked.
I brightened, suddenly hopeful. “Yeah, he would. Did you see him?”
Josh nodded. “I reckon so. He showed up along the river late last year, right before the snows became serious. He and his family looked like they had been traveling a while and some of our local boys thought to have a little sport. You brother asked for some supplies and our town idiot thought it would be a good idea to make your brother sing for it. Your brother sang, although from what I heard, he looked like he was gonna kill somebody. When the song was over, the idiot stiffed your brother, laughing and drinking a beer. Your brother waited until the dumbass was about fifty yards away then shot the bottle out of his hand. After that he got his supplies. No one wanted to mess with someone who could shoot like that.”
I grinned. Mike was hell on wheels with a handgun.
Charlie nudged me. “You have any other family out there? Any more of you and we'll whip the whole damn zombie horde single-handed.”
I shook my head. “Mike's great with a handgun, but can't shoot for shit with a long gun.”
“Anyway,” Josh continued, “he was welcome to stay, but he said he needed to get downriver and wait for his brother. Said something about a fort, although I don't know what the hell he was talkin' about. I lived here my whole life and there ain’t never been no fort anywhere near here.”
“This was before winter?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“Thanks. We'll see you when we are heading back,” I promised.
“We'll be here,” Josh said, letting the line go and releasing our boat. We drifted for a bit, then Charlie righted us, and we headed farther down river. I looked at our map and saw we were supposed to clear Marseilles within the hour. The sun was moving into the afternoon and soon we would have to find a place to spend the night. I was hoping that we would have been able to reach Starved Rock and my brother by nightfall, but it was looking like it was going to have to be in the morning. We had a decent ways to go and I didn’t see us reaching him soon.