Revenge of the Apocalypse (A Duck & Cover Adventure Post-Apocalyptic Series Book 4)

by Benjamin Wallace

  To Gatsby’s credit, he barely flinched when he saw the weapon and stammered for only a second before returning to the tough-guy persona. “That’s your solution to everything, isn’t it? Just shoot the problem till it goes away?”

  “It’s worked so far,” Lucas said.

  “All of history, really,” Jerry added.

  “Yeah, once shot, the problem rarely comes back,” Joshua said.

  “You’re nothing but a bunch of wasteland thugs.” Gatsby spit on the ground, most likely because he’d seen it done in movies. “Fahrenheit, seize them.”

  “’Seize them?’” Joshua laughed. “Wow, you sound just like Invictus.”

  Gatsby turned to the head of security. “Why aren’t you seizing them?”

  “I’m still not clear on what they’ve done,” the big man answered.

  Gatsby pointed at the boat. “They saw the Bitch!”

  “Language, fella,” Herbert West scolded the man.

  “So? I’ve seen lots of boats,” Fahrenheit said. “You want me to arrest myself?”

  Gatsby grabbed at his hair. “Why isn’t anyone listening to me?”

  “Because the time for talk is over,” Jerry said. “Because every sentence you speak and every word you utter is another innocent person beaten or killed.”

  Joshua leaned over to Eli and whispered, “Did he just transition into a rousing speech?”

  “I think he did,” Eli whispered back.

  “That was pretty smooth.”

  “I’ve seen smoother,” Lucas muttered.

  Jerry continued. “You should be proud of the work you’ve done here, Gatsby. You all should. You’ve laid the groundwork of a solid revolt. You’ve set the foundation for a future you can all be proud of.”

  “Any idea where he’s going with this bit?” Joshua asked.

  “Just stroking the ego a little bit,” Eli said, unconcerned. “Letting the guy save some face before he completely ousts him.”

  “That’s a nice touch.”

  Lucas disagreed. “What’s this ‘foundation’ bullshit? It’s a little cliché.”

  “Yeah,” Eli agreed. “But it’s working.

  Work had stopped on Lelawala. Resistance members had multiplied behind Gatsby and his council. Jerry had to speak up to be heard in the back.

  “What you’ve all accomplished is nothing short of remarkable. But it’s time to take the next step. It’s time to take action.”

  “Invictus grows stronger every day,” Gatsby protested.

  “So he’ll never be weaker than he is right now,” Jerry retorted.

  “Nice!” the three warriors agreed.

  “This is working,” Lucas said. “I’ll be killing Invictus in no time.”

  “You mean I’ll be killing him in no time.” Joshua patted Lucas on the shoulder.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Now is the time to strike. You have the numbers. You have the element of surprise. But most importantly, you have the right to rise up and take your freedom back from that madman across the river. It’s time to get on Lelawala and show that bastard what the Bitch can do.”

  Gatsby’s whining was drowned out by the cheers and applause of the crowd.

  Eli applauded and said to the other two warriors, “It’s him.”

  Joshua clapped. “It really is.”

  Applause can’t last forever, and the cheers slowly began to fade. Jerry nodded his appreciation to the crowd. Gatsby seized the lull to rush forward and get in Jerry’s face. He screamed, “Who the hell do you think you are?!”

  Fahrenheit pulled him back as Joshua and Lucas stepped up behind Jerry.

  “Don’t you know?” Joshua asked.

  “He’s the motherfucking Librarian!” Lucas shouted.

  There was no shouting over the crowd now. Gatsby’s protests were swallowed up by the noise and he was soon lost in the crowd as it rushed forward to greet the man they had all been waiting for.

  Jerry shook hands and bumped fists for several minutes before he was able to find his way to the edge of the crowd. Pride stood with the other three warriors. “Have we got a plan?”

  Joshua nodded. “They do have a plan.”

  “It’s a terrible plan,” Lucas said.

  Pride snapped. “Do you have a better one?”

  Lucas wore the confused look well. “Well, yeah.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  On the shores beneath the Observation Tower, the racers gathered with their cobbled crafts. The rafts looked as rough as the racers themselves. Constructed from discarded barrels, coolers and anything else that would float, and lashed together with rope, wire and hope, the rafts were a clear indication of the desperation that possessed the entrants into the regatta.

  The Niagara Regatta had been held several times since the formation of Alasis but had never resulted in a winner. There had been many deaths. Few technically drowned, while dozens succumbed to the frigid waters. Despite the risks and the odds being against them, the event had always drawn a mass of entrants. The reward of a life behind the gates was too much for most to ignore. And this year’s crowd was one for the record books.

  Hundreds of men and women stood by their shoddy watercrafts, ready to risk life and limb for one shot at the other side.

  Snow was falling, and the seasonal ice had finally begun to form in the calmer waters along the shore. The participants tread cautiously out to the edge where the race would begin. Looking down through the sheet, they could see a structure that once served as the dock for tours into the mist. At the edge, they prepared their homemade watercrafts and waited for the official start.

  “Safety” was provided by Alasis soldiers and their entire patrol fleet of jet boats. The former whitewater touring vessels had long ago been stripped of their passenger seating to provide a weapons platform for the Legionaries assigned to the craft. Despite their stated purpose, they had never once made an effort to save a life and had taken more than a few in their enforcement of the city’s borders. Should any entrant approach the far shore, in an earnest attempt or in error, they would be sunk, shot or both.

  Carmina Burana played through a network of loudspeakers that ran throughout the city, and the people turned their eyes across the river. It was all but impossible to see from the banks of the river, but they knew that the Great Lord Invictus was about to appear on the jumbo screens that lined the casino building. The music was the cue for those in town to find a government-approved viewing center and make themselves accounted for before the address began.

  The music continued, and the racers crowded around the loudspeaker at the base of the tower. The music faded out and the Praetor’s voice filled the air. “The Great Lord Invictus, Guardian of Alasis, Bringer of Peace, Provider of Power, welcomes you to the Imperial Niagara Regatta and wishes you luck in your efforts this day. Should there be a victor, they will be awarded passage beyond the gates, where they will receive the honor of serving in the army of the Great Lord Invictus and be rewarded accordingly. The course remains unchanged. You must pilot your craft downriver, pass under Whirlpool Rapids Bridge and through the rapids themselves. The first craft to arrive at Devil’s Hole shall claim the prize. And now, the Great Lord Invictus.”

  “Go.”

  The racers scrambled at the sudden start. Men slipped on the ice as they tried to turn and run at the same time. The teams arrived at their crafts and hurriedly handled out paddles before hastily shoving their rafts into the river. Others scrambled to affix sails in hopes of catching the wind that howled through the gorge, driven by the Falls behind them.

  The first leg of the race was the simplest. The current was swift, but the water was as calm as it was going to be, and it afforded the crews a chance to acclimate to the craft and develop a rhythm before the more dangerous parts of the course. Many of the rafts spun as the teams found the balance and coordination needed to navigate their homemade craft.

  The patrol boats weren’t helping. They darted between the racers, casting up wak
es from the jet boats and tipping more than a couple crafts. The crews pulled themselves from the freezing water and set back to work in piloting their boats.

  After ten minutes of this, the racers began to make progress. Crowds along the shoreline cheered for family members and friends as the rafts began to track with some sense of direction. By the time they were halfway to Whirlpool Rapids Bridge, most of the teams had gotten the hang of it.

  The patrol boats continued to weave in and out of the contestants until the horn sounded. It sounded like ten freight trains. The sound overpowered the roar of the Falls and bounced along the canyon walls, causing confusion among the security boats. It sounded again as the guards quickly realized that it could not be coming from upstream.

  The Bitch of the Mist appeared a minute later. She moved slowly at first but built considerable speed once free of the rapids’ hold. Another blast from the horn signaled the Bookkeeper agents to cut the power to Alasis.

  The security team reacted instantly, and two of the armed boats shot downstream to engage the intruder.

  The horn blared again as the boats met. From the rafts, it was all that could be heard, though they could see the flashes of gunfire from all parties involved.

  One of the patrol boats got too close, and a funnel of orange fire reached out from the Bitch’s port side, enveloping the craft and crew in fire.

  The crowd on the shoreline screamed with enthusiasm as the black ship powered forward and the security boat retreated. The other elements of Invictus’s navy sped toward the ship. The machine guns mounted on the bow of each jet boat spat lead as they went. Soon they swarmed around the armored tour boat, firing at anything they could hit.

  The Bitch shot back, and the circle the patrol had formed around her quickly shattered. Another jet boat went up in a blast of smoke and screams, while yet another began to sink as it was pulled into the swift of the rapids.

  “All right,” Jerry said to his crew on the raft. “Let’s do this.”

  The order was echoed on every raft in the river, and the armada of trash and planks changed their course. The crews paddled with more vigor than before as they pulled themselves across the unguarded banks of Alasis.

  “I told you it would work,” Lucas shouted from a nearby raft.

  Joshua paddled alongside with another raft full of Resistance members. “We haven’t landed yet, MacArthur.”

  “Just keep paddling, Dudley. You’re almost home.”

  Jerry glanced behind him. The entire regatta had turned into an amphibious assault. Eli, Pride and Fahrenheit each commanded a raft. Even Gatsby was barking out a speech meant to inspire his troops. They were twenty feet from the shore when one of the patrol boats realized what was happening and broke off from their attack.

  “He’s coming in fast!” Eli screamed.

  Lucas dropped his paddle and opened a crate built into the center of his raft. The shoulder-fired rocket screamed across the river and exploded under the bow of the patrol boat. The Alasis craft flipped nose over tail and crashed back into the river upside down. The recoil from the round sent Lucas’s raft drifting in a circle. He did his best to balance it as he got a 360 view of the assault.

  “She’s going down!” Lucas pointed out to the Resistance ship.

  The Bitch was listing to one side now, but she fought on. Flames spouted into the air and the machine gun fire could be heard over the Falls. But the farther she leaned, the more her belly was exposed, and the patrol boats concentrated their fire there. It wasn’t long before The Bitch had capsized completely.

  “Do you think Herbert’s going to be okay?” Joshua asked.

  The Bitch of the Mist exploded, sending flaming debris across the water. Armor plating splashed down with cavernous whunks into the river, while burning embers of wood sprinkled down in stark contrast to the falling snow.

  “No,” Lucas answered.

  With the Bitch sunk, the patrol boats came for the rafts.

  Jerry’s raft touched the shore first and he eagerly waved the soldiers onto dry land. More than half the rafts were within twenty feet of shore now. They would probably make it. The ones in the back, however, were falling victim to the jet boats. The patrols didn’t even have to fire. A fast pass sent the crews tumbling into the river where the current quickly carried them away from their crafts. Those who tried to swim for shore were easy targets for the gunners.

  Some of the Bookkeepers tried to fire back from shore, but the success of the assault depended on moving forward. They designated only a few men to fire on the patrol craft and gather the rest at the base of the hill.

  “Up the hill!” Jerry shouted.

  “To the tower!” Fahrenheit’s voice was perfect for shouting over a war, and the men responded. They tore the rafts apart to reveal weapon stashes inside the barrels and beneath the boards. The wave of fighters rolled up the hill and into the streets of Alasis.

  What resistance they encountered retreated quickly or fell to Bookkeeper gunfire. Legionaries ran as fast as their armor allowed them to as they fell back farther into town. This urged the Bookkeeper army on.

  The force charged up Niagara Parkway. With the river on their left, it was only the right flank that could experience an ambush. An occasional shot was fired from the cover provided by the homes, but it was more of the fire and flee type than established positions.

  The force split at Ontario Park. Pride and Fahrenheit led a small army up Ontario Avenue with Skylon Tower as their ultimate objective. The larger group continued on the parkway.

  They marched unchallenged until they reached the Rainbow Bridge. The heavily defended toll plaza was key to taking the city. Their reinforcements numbered in the thousands across the river. All they needed was a way to cross.

  The majority of the defense was pointed at the bridge, but the guards at the plaza reacted quickly to reposition the more portable pieces of artillery.

  Rifle fire slowed their advance, and mortar shells soon began to rain down on the invading army and sent the rebels scrambling for cover in the woods along the road.

  Behind their main force, Invictus’s patrol trucks arrived. Light machine guns mounted in their beds began to make any movement across the streets a deadly race. Bookkeeper snipers fired from the woods and Jerry watched two of the trucks turn silent as their gunners fell.

  Emboldened by the guns’ silence, Joshua stepped out into the road to rally his men. “It’s time to—”

  Another burst of machine gun fire cut him off and sent his men back behind the trees. The fire had come from the former immigration services tower in the middle of the plaza.

  Jerry shouted as he grabbed Gatsby by the shoulder and dragged him closer. “There’s a nest up there!”

  The Bookkepper knocked Jerry’s hand away and snarled, “Well obviously!”

  Intelligence had been the one thing the man could truly offer and now it was coming up short. “That wasn’t there in the intel!”

  Lucas screamed with frustration as he rushed into the street. Bullets tore at the asphalt around him, producing a cloud of dust. He slid to his knees and raised the rocket launcher to his shoulder. The high-explosive projectile shot from the tube as the exhaust blew the cloud of dust apart.

  “That’s for my fucking dog!” Lucas shouted back to the trees.

  “Your dog?” Jerry shouted. “You’re here for a dog?!”

  “Don’t you judge me!” Lucas shouted. “You didn’t know Snaps!”

  Eli appeared next to Gatsby and shoved the man to the ground. He cast a finger at the smoking tower. “That wasn’t in the intel!”

  “We’ve covered that,” Gatsby shouted back. “It’s taken care of with the rocket guy there.”

  “Taken care of?! Josh is dead!” Eli spat as he shouted. “What else did your people miss?”

  Gatsby jumped to his feet and put a finger in Eli’s chest. “Don’t question my people! They’ve dedicated their lives to the cause. They risked everything to tell us what we know.”
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  “They don’t know shit!”

  “I don’t know when they put that up there. Could have been this morning. It’s not like it’s hard to move a machine gun.”

  “There better not be any more surprises!”

  “Or what, old man?” Gatsby made sure to speak loud enough that his men could hear him. “You wanted this! I told you that we needed to wait. That the time wasn’t right.”

  “You would have waited forever,” Jerry said. “And every day Invictus would have more hell waiting for you.”

  Another salvo of mortar rounds struck the street. Shrapnel and asphalt struck the army and sent the rest to cover.

  “What could be worse than this?” Gatsby asked with a smugness that few could master.

  “Worse Than This” exploded from Bird Kingdom. The building’s windows shattered as three tanks rolled out into the street in front of the rebellion. What had once been the “world’s largest free-flying indoor aviary” had apparently been converted into the Alasis Motor Pool.

  “Where the hell did those come from!?” Gatsby shouted as the tanks turned their turrets toward the woods.

  Jerry looked to the mercenary. “Lucas?”

  Lucas dropped the rocket launcher. The now hollow tube made a fitting bonk when it hit the ground. The man just shrugged.

  “Fall back!” Gatsby shouted. “Retreat!”

  “No!” Jerry shouted, but it was too late. The literary-themed Resistance fighters were already booking it back downriver. Jerry tried to cancel the retreat but was drowned out by the tank guns.

  Trees exploded and toppled around them.

  “We have to go!” Lucas shouted.

  “This is our only chance!” Jerry said, knowing it could have gone without saying.

  “Our army is gone, man!”

  “We’ll think of something else,” Eli said. “There’s always another way.”

  “We should at least work our way through town. Help Fahrenheit and—”

  “If this was waiting for us, what do you think is waiting for them?” Eli said.

  “Then we have to warn them.”