Countdown to Oblivion

by Heath Stallcup

  “What?”

  “Didn’t you have a makeshift commune set up for them to find?”

  She nodded and gave him a crooked smile. “It was a thought that we tried to put in place, but we couldn’t sell it. Not unless we moved a lot of people there and I wasn’t ready to risk their lives.”

  A slow smile started to form. “What if we make it look like people had been there, but left?”

  She shrugged. “What good would that do?”

  “I’m just bouncing ideas here, but let’s say Mike can’t get close enough to remove Simon. We create a fake community and make it look like the people abandoned it.”

  She ran her hand alongside his face. “I don’t think he’d buy it. It wouldn’t convince me, and if he’s as mean and psycho as you say, he’d never buy it, either.” She pulled back and stared at him. “Our best bet is to lay low and pray that he goes on about his business. Maybe he’ll go on to Albuquerque?”

  Roger shook his head. “He’s like a dog with a bone once an idea gets in his head.” He glanced behind him at the people rushing around, reinforcing walls and loading magazines. “Look, I’m telling ya, we need something to throw him off.”

  Candy noticed something in his facial expression that sent a cold chill up her spine. “Like what?” she asked cautiously.

  Roger inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly. “Maybe I should go back.”

  “Absolutely not.” She had to force herself to remain calm and keep her voice low. “You faked your death, remember? What are you, zombie cop?”

  Roger gave her a solemn smile. “No, not a zombie, but I’m sure I could come up with a believable excuse to—”

  “Let’s just give your guy Mike a chance to do his thing.” She pressed her finger against his lips to shush him. “Right now, he has no idea where we are, and if we keep our head down and the noise to a minimum, with any luck he’ll pass right on by.”

  Roger shook his head. “We’re not that lucky.”

  “Yes, we are.” She hooked her arm into his and began walking back toward the offices. “And Rio Rancho is a big town compared to most. He’s got a lot of area to cover and the odds of him finding us grow slimmer by the day.”

  He gave her a sideways look. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

  “Just shut up and agree with me.”

  Chapter 21

  Hatcher paced as his mind raced. He paused for only a moment when Vicky entered his office. “You okay?”

  He shot her a confused look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She crossed her arms and leaned against the filing cabinet. “You look like you’re about ready to jump out of your skin.”

  “I need coffee.”

  She chuckled. “No, you don’t. You’re too nervous now.”

  “Coffee helps me think.”

  “Not when you’re like this.”

  He spun on her, his face reddening. “Did you want something or did you come in here to bust my chops?”

  “Nobody’s busting your chops, Danny.” She pushed off the cabinet and slowly approached him. “You’re wound too tight.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He turned to continue pacing and she gripped his shoulders. “You need to relax.”

  “That isn’t going to help me figure a way out of this mess.”

  “Sit down.” She pushed him slightly and steadied him as he fell into his chair. “You need to have a sit down with Roger.”

  Hatcher’s brows knit and he glared at her. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because he lived with these people. He can give you insight into their behaviors, their habits, their fears…whatever you may need.”

  Hatcher hated to admit she was right, but he reluctantly nodded. “Bring him in.”

  Vicky leaned out of the office door and nodded to Candy. She stepped aside and allowed the couple to walk in. “Hey, Hatch.” Candy stepped around his desk and gave him a crooked smile.

  Hatcher eyed Roger as he stepped in and extended his hand. “We weren’t formally introduced.”

  Hatcher sighed and grasped the offered appendage. “Tell me about these people.”

  Roger motioned to the chair opposite of Hatcher and Daniel nodded. He slipped into the seat and seemed to sit on the edge. “I rode with these guys for about six months before this all went down.” He scooted back into the seat and leaned back as he tried to think of the pertinent information. “I can tell you that the leader, Simon, is a psychopath. He’s paranoid. He’s dangerous and he can’t be trusted.”

  “Yet you rode with him,” Hatcher deadpanned.

  Roger nodded. “I sure did. And I hated every moment of it. But my job required me to gain their trust, so I did.”

  “In six months?” Hatcher leaned forward. “If this asshole is so paranoid, how’d you pull that off?”

  “I blended in. I mixed with the right people at the right time. When they did something bad, I got the credit, too. Before long, Simon began to see me as one of the go-getters. Going above and beyond in an attempt to climb the ladder.”

  Hatcher had to admit that the story was plausible. “Go on.”

  “When everything went down, I tried to get to my wife. We were going to skip town and…” He averted his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Obviously, those plans didn’t work out, so I ended up back with the gang.”

  “And you stayed with them.”

  Roger nodded. “Safety in numbers.”

  “So, you ‘became’ a member and went along with the looting, raping, killing…”

  Roger lowered his eyes again and nodded. “Yes, I did.”

  “So this Simon saw you as one of their own?”

  Roger nodded again.

  Hatcher leaned back in his chair and tapped on his desk with a pencil. “What happened?”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, what happened that you’re with us now, instead of with him.”

  Roger nodded and glanced to Candy. “Let’s just say I got tired of being the bad guy. I ran across a couple of your people while searching for you—”

  “Me?”

  Roger smiled. “Simon wasn’t too happy that you escaped his trap. He had us heading out in four different directions looking for your base of operation.” Hatcher nodded and waved him on. “Anyway, I ran into Hank and Wally. They brought me to meet Candy and…” He glanced at Candy again and grinned. “I liked what I saw.”

  Hatcher watched Candy’s face flush and sighed. “So, you decided to turn against your own for…what? Something better?”

  Roger opened his mouth to argue but held his tongue. He realized the pressure that Daniel must be under and the mistrust he would obviously hold for a stranger. He chose to simply nod. “It’s not like I was really with them. I rode with them. Like I said, there was safety in numbers. But once I saw this place? This town? All of the potential to create a real community?”

  “There are other towns, you know.”

  “True. But not nearly as many survivors as you might think.”

  Hatcher nodded and his brows knit together. “Especially after Simon found them.”

  Roger shrugged. “Sometimes he’d get stupid and kill off people that could have contributed to the cause, but—”

  “Contributed to the cause?” Hatcher interrupted.

  Roger blew his breath out. “This is going to take longer if you challenge every ill-chosen word that comes out of my mouth.” He eyed Hatcher cautiously, then proceeded. “By contribute, I mean to get the human race back on its feet. Save the species. That kind of contribution.”

  Hatcher eyed him and fought the urge to bark at him. “You mean breeders?”

  “No!” Roger was on his feet now. “I mean healthy young people who could help build something. Like you’re doing here.”

  “We have old people, invalids, children…not exactly what you might think of when you think of rebuilding humanity.”

  Roger exhaled slowly. “Every person has something to offer.” He threw h
is hands in the air. “Unless you stop challenging every statement I make…”

  Hatcher held a hand up. “You’re right. Go on.” Here’s the rope, son. Hang yourself.

  “Anyway, I rode with Simon until I ran into your group. There are enough in numbers here that if we could combine the two, we’d have a real shot at creating a community. At least, that was my thought.”

  “Except Simon might not like the idea of sharing resources and would rather just take what he wanted and shoot the rest.”

  “Exactly.” Roger sat back down. “Now, there are good people in the group. People like me who were just trying to survive the end of the world.” He waited a moment for Hatcher to attack him for his choice of words. When the attack didn’t come, he continued. “There are also bad apples. Not many, mind you, but enough to make things difficult.”

  “Tell me about this Mike guy.”

  “Big. Big and hairy and scary-looking as hell, but once you get to know him a little, you realize he’s not mean-hearted. He wants the same things as everybody else.”

  Hatcher swallowed the lump in his throat as he thought of Mitch. “I know the type.”

  “Anyway, he wants to help. He’s going to try to remove Simon from the equation.”

  “You mean kill him.” Hatcher’s face was stoic.

  Roger nodded. “If he can, yes. But you gotta understand, there’s no other way to deal with people like Simon. He’s crazy enough that if we tossed him and tried to build something good without him being the leader, he’d never stop. He’d do everything in his power to destroy what he couldn’t have. He’d build up another army and he’d—”

  “I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve it. If he’s half as crazy as you paint him, then he’s a rabid dog that needs to be put down.”

  “Again, exactly.” Roger nodded at him knowingly. “But if Mike can’t do it—”

  “Then we’ll have to face him.”

  Candy stepped forward, “Or we might can lay low long enough that he decides we were never here.” She cast a look at Roger that he missed. “We can’t be sure that he knows we’re here and—”

  “Roger here is saying that the people in that group are worth saving,” Hatcher said, interrupting her. “That means what? Women? Children?”

  “There are families in the group, yes.”

  Hatcher turned back to Candy. “So, if he decides we don’t exist, those people are trapped with a psycho at the helm. And we don’t want that, do we?”

  Roger shook his head. “And if he’s aware that the chopper came through, odds are, he’ll be on guard constantly. We couldn’t get close enough to take him out quietly.”

  Hatcher absorbed the information and eventually nodded his head. “So, it’s agreed. We won’t be quiet about it.”

  Simon beat on Savage’s trailer door. “Open up you overgrown son of a—”

  The door flew open in Simon’s face and Savage stood in the doorway in a pair of boxers. “What do you want?”

  “We need to talk.” The look in Simon’s eye was borderline feral.

  “It can wait ’til I’m done with Stella.” Savage reached for the door to pull it shut, but Simon stepped into the path, blocking it.

  “We can talk now.”

  Savage growled low in his throat and stepped down from the trailer. The entire thing rocked as he stomped down the metal steps. When he reached the ground, he glared at Simon. “You ain’t near as pretty as she is, so make it quick.”

  Simon’s face twisted and he looked up at the larger man. “You’ve been pushing your luck lately, Savage.” He poked the big man in the chest with a finger. “Have you forgotten who’s in charge here?”

  Savage raised a brow at his actions. “Oh, you’re definitely in charge. But you wreak of whiskey and your decisions have been pretty stupid.” He extended an arm and leaned against the side of the trailer. “Like barking at me and accusing me of lying to you out there when you were looking for the chopper? What the hell, man?” Savage leaned down and lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “Who’s had your back since day one? Who’s stepped between you and the members when they all thought you went off the deep end? Who’s acted as your main enforcer and bodyguard all this time?” He poked himself in the chest. “Me, that’s who. And then what do you do in front of the other lieutenants? You question me and my motives? You paint me to be a traitor?”

  “Your actions of late have caused me to question your loyalties, man.”

  Savage leaned back and shook his head. “That’s fucked up, man. I’ve always been loyal to you.”

  Simon stepped back and cocked his head to the side as if he were trying to comprehend what Savage said. “Funny. You don’t look loyal.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Simon struck faster than Savage expected, sinking his blade deep into the big man’s midsection. “I mean, you don’t look loyal!” He let the knife slide out of Savage’s body as he fell to the ground. He leaned over the larger man and stared him in the eye while Savage gripped the wound with both hands, his breath coming in rapid pants. “You said you were coming back here to bone your old lady, but it don’t look like you were. I don’t smell sex in the air. You aren’t even sweaty.” He leaned down and spat in his face. “If you ain’t breakin’ a sweat, then you ain’t doing it right.”

  The smaller man cackled as he spun and threw the knife at Savage’s bike. “Let that sink in, you disloyal bitch!” Simon kicked at the dirt and pulled the bottle from his back pocket. He bit the cork and spat it into the air, then tilted it back and took a long pull.

  Savage watched him dance away and he raised his arm and beat against the side of the trailer. “Stella!”

  In moments she appeared at the doorway. The shock on her face was obvious as she dropped to the ground and tried to hold the blood back. “Oh my god, Mike! What happened?”

  Savage swallowed hard and felt himself getting colder. “Simon.” He turned and stared at her. “Fucker stabbed me.” His voice sounded dry and raspy.

  “What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?” Stella felt panic begin to shoot through her body as she looked around for some answer that she knew wasn’t there.

  “Get me in the truck. Then drive.”

  “Where Mike? There’s no hospitals anymore…”

  He pulled her face close to his. “I know a place.”

  “The new beginning? The start over?”

  He nodded and clenched his teeth. “They got people. Maybe they can help.”

  Stella reached down and lifted his arm over her shoulder as she lifted. “Come on, Mike. Move!”

  Simon tossed the bottle to the side and watched from behind a large tree. The darkness of the night was enough to conceal him in the shadows, but the tree ensured Savage wouldn’t notice him.

  “Did you have to stab him, boss?”

  Simon nodded slowly. “You see, Scud, in order to force him to show his hand, I had to call his bluff.” He turned and patted the man’s face hard. “If the bastard dies…well, too bad, so sad. But if I’m right—”

  “What?”

  “He’s gonna lead us to where that chopper landed.”

  Scud shook his head. “I don’t see how. He told the guys that it landed and picked up a guy.”

  Simon turned and glared at the man. “And how many uniformed soldiers have you seen marching around this piss-ant town?”

  Scud shook his head. “Well…none, boss.”

  “Exactly. He’s up to something, and now we’re gonna find out what.” Simon turned and dragged Scud behind him. “You disconnected the headlights on the bikes, yeah?”

  “Yeah, yeah, boss. Just like you said. But I don’t know how we’re gonna see without—”

  “We’re gonna follow close enough that we don’t’ need lights.” He pointed as the headlights to the old GMC pickup flared and Stella pulled the machine away from the trailer. “Move!” He pushed Scud toward the bikes and the pair heard engines come to life as the truck sho
t past the edge of the camp.

  “We got moonlight, boss. We should be able to see okay.”

  Simon ignored the man and straddled his bike. “Stay close, but not so close they notice us. Stay off your brakes, too. Downshift to slow down. We don’t need them seeing any light at all.”

  He started his bike and kicked it into gear. “Time to go hunting!”

  Chapter 22

  “Jesus!” Roger pushed the gates open and dragged some of the rusty tin roofing from the entrance. “Give me a hand here!”

  Two of the guards trotted out and began dragging debris from the entrance while Roger waved the rusty old pickup truck to the staging area. “Tell me what happened.”

  Stella slid out from behind the wheel and ran to the other door. When she pulled it open Savage nearly fell out onto the concrete pad. “Simon went nuts and stabbed him. He passed out when the guy in the hairy suit told us where to go.”

  Roger pulled Mike from the cab of the truck and went pale from the amount of blood soaked into the seat and the coagulated puddle in the floor.

  Hatcher ran to the staging area and directed the men wheeling the gurney to the truck. “Tell me you weren’t followed.”

  Stella’s hands were shaking as they began to push Mike from the staging area. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “Were you followed?” Hatcher stood in front of her and gripped her face to get her attention. “We need to know.”

  She seemed to snap back to reality and stared at him for a moment. “No. I don’t think so.” She pointed to Mike. “He kept trying to look behind us for lights and he said he expected them to come after us, but we never saw them.”

  Hatcher visibly relaxed. He turned to the gate guards. “Get the crap stuff moved back and—”

  “We got company!” the radios barked simultaneously, cutting Hatcher off midsentence.

  He pulled his radio and keyed the mic. “Talk to me!”

  “Multiple riders on motorcycles, no lights. They’re a block away and split into two groups. I can see taillights from a couple of them and they might be surrounding us.”