by Ralph Gibbs
Danica reached in and touched Toscana on the shoulder and said, “Be safe.” Toscana placed her hand on Danica’s and nodded.
“You better not fucking die,” Paris yelled as they took off. “You hear me?” Franklin waved.
“What’s the plan?” Danica asked, getting back in the vehicle with Franklin.
“Nothing for now. We’re just going to follow the convoy and wait for them to get closer.”
For ten minutes, Danica watched out the back window for the militia group. She was just about convinced they’d broken pursuit when she spotted their headlights.
“Okay, I see them.” Franklin looked in the rearview mirror and estimated they were less than a mile behind. “On the other side of the next hill, we’re going to set up a trap.”
“What kind of trap?”
“When I come to a stop, hop out and run for the woods. When they come over the hill, we kill them.”
“That seems simple enough.”
“Simple is always best. The more complicated the plan, the greater the chance to fuck it up.” After cresting the hill, Franklin stopped the car so that it blocked both sides of the road and turned off his lights. He pointed to the nearest tree line. “Take up a position over there.”
As they took cover behind trees, he looked over at Danica, trying to gauge her emotions. Although Danica hadn’t told him much about Wade, other than the man had killed his ex-wife, Matthew filled him in on what he knew. This, though, was a different type of fight.
“Just put your body on automatic and let it keep you alive,” he said, sensing her nervousness. “If you think about it too much, you’ll panic. You can’t help it. It’s not natural to be shot at, and if you dwell on it, you’ll want to run. Just see the target and pull the trigger. Panic, and you’ll die.”
She looked at him, almost shocked. “My father gave me that same advice, once.” As the enemy convoy approached, she tightened her grip on her weapon, wondering why she had volunteered for this.
“This will go down pretty fast,” he said using his voice to keep her calm. “When I tell you to run, you run away as fast as you can. If we get separated, don’t worry about me. Just run and use your angles.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means, don’t run straight. Instead, run at an angle for a few hundred yards, then cut a forty-five-degree angle in a different direction. Then cut another angle in a few hundred yards. Just keep doing that for an hour and then run due west until you run into a road. After that, head toward Columbia. Meet me at the first town you run across. Wait five days, if I don’t show up, head for Colorado on your own. I’ll do the same.”
She nodded.
“As soon as they crest the hill, spray the windshield of the closest vehicle,” Franklin ordered. “I’ll do the same with the next.” She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.
As the first vehicle crested the hill, it slammed on its brakes when it spotted their car in the middle of the road. The driver tried to avoid their truck, but it was traveling too fast and slid sideways into it. For a moment, Danica believed the militia vehicle would flip over, but it didn’t have enough momentum. While the vehicle bounced upward on two wheels, the second vehicle in the four-car squad slammed into the undercarriage, pinning the first in the air at an angle where the windshield was facing Danica.
It was as if the fates decreed that she needed to be eased into her first battle with a target she couldn’t miss. They looked at her wide-eyed. She hesitated only a moment more before squeezing the trigger. Blood sprayed everywhere inside the car. Only two of the five men inside made it out alive. She wanted to be sick but didn’t have time. If she stopped to throw up, she’d never have to worry about getting sick again. Taking Franklin’s advice, she didn’t dwell on her actions and tried to put herself on automatic. Franklin cut loose with his weapon seconds later.
The last two cars ran off the road and slammed to a stop at the opposite tree line. Most of the men scattered into the woods, but a few brave souls attempted to flank them. Those that tried never made it more than a few steps.
Danica was stunned at what she’d had to do since the world went to hell. Just a few short months ago, she was a teenager trying to survive high school arguing with her dad about career choices. Now, she was spraying bullets at people that wanted to kill her. For now, she seemed to handle the pressure fine, but once they arrived in Colorado, she figured she’d find her a nice abandoned home to hide in for a week and break down, grieving everything she’d lost—her parents, her brother, friends, her innocence, her entire world. Maybe Paris would let her borrow the president’s therapist.
Danica jumped behind the tree, as a man stood up from behind a car and fired at her. She felt the vibrations of the bullets thud against the tree. Franklin made sure the man never pulled the trigger again.
“Hold your fire,” someone yelled. Franklin pulled up his weapon and held up his hand for Danica to do the same. “Hello, the forest, hold your fire.”
“Major Barrette, is that you?” Danica yelled, recognizing his voice.
“Yes, ma’am. Danica?”
“Yes.”
“Who do you have with you?” the major asked.
“My dead grandmother,” she said, changing out a clip. Talking was good. The longer they delayed the major, the closer her group got to Columbia. Looking around the tree, she watched Major Barrette step into the road holding a flashlight. “That’s brave of you, major. I’m surprised. I figured your bravery only extended as far as threatening defenseless women.”
“You wound me, but I can’t argue with you, either. It was despicable, and I’m ashamed, but I did what I had to do. In my defense, I was trying to save the town and everyone in it.” Danica leaned out, her weapon showing. “I don’t have a white flag, but I’d like to consider us under a flag of truce. You seem to be an honorable woman, so I don’t think you’ll shoot an unarmed man. I remember what you said back at your house. You could have killed us, but you didn’t, and I won’t forget that. Walk away, and I won’t follow you.”
“And my friends?”
His silence was admission enough. “I’m also a decent strategist,” she said. “I’m guessing if I kill you, your boys will be rudderless and will go running back to daddy.” She was heartened to see him hesitate for a minute.
“I’ll take my chances.” He moved to the center of the road.
“That’s far enough,” Danica said.
“Look, we don’t have to do this. All I want is the doctor. There are plenty of doctors in Colorado. We just want the one.”
“If she wanted to come with you, Paris would have let her. But she didn’t, and I have a problem with forcing people to do something against their will. That’s called kidnapping, and kidnapping is against the law. I uphold the law.”
“There is no law anymore. The only law that people recognize is that weapon in your hand.”
“As long as the United States exists—”
He threw his arms up. “Look around you; there is no United States. You and me, we’re the new law.” He pointed to one of his men lying dead in the middle of the road. “This is what’s waiting out there for all of us. If not me, you’ll be in a gunfight with someone else, somewhere else. All of you will end up dead. She’ll be safe in Atlanta. I give you my word.”
“She’ll be safer in Colorado. You have my word.”
“She can save a lot of lives in Atlanta.”
“If you guys are any indication of the people there, I’m not sure I want her saving your lives. I’m thinking the world—” Danica spotted two men crossing the road behind the cars. She fired on them but missed.
“You, treacherous bastard,” she said, turning her gun on Major Barrette.
“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping the flashlight. He raised his hands defensively as the flashlight shattered on the pavement. “I didn’t know they would do that. I swear.” For half a second, she contemplated killing him, but he was right. S
he couldn’t kill an unarmed man. She might live to regret it, but she couldn’t do it. Down the line, after the new world wore her down, maybe, but not yet.
“They’re flanking us,” she yelled as she fired off several rounds where she watched the men disappear. Off in the distance, she spotted headlights approaching. “And it looks like reinforcements are coming.”
“Angles,” he shouted at her. That was her signal. As she turned to run, two men popped out from behind cover and fired. She threw herself against the tree and heat brushed by her cheek. Franklin returned fire and forced the men to take cover. “Go. Go. Go.” Not hesitating, she sprinted into the darkness.
For two hours she ran, losing count of the number of angles she took. For miles, the sounds of battle rang out behind her, and more than once, she considered going back. She felt like a coward for leaving Franklin. When she tripped and lost her rifle in the darkness, there was no going back. She still had her father’s pistol, but it would be no match for the firepower of the Atlanta group. Instead, she ran like a scared rabbit, first one way, then another, using a sliver of moon as a guide, always keeping it to her left.
She ran through the night, only stopping when she clotheslined a low-hanging branch. Exhausted, as wisps of dawn filtered through the thinning forest, she finally stopped to rest curling up behind a tree. As she tried to catch her breath, she heard the rustle of leaves and the snap of a twig.
She pulled her pistol. When she felt the intruder was within striking distance, she threw herself from behind the tree and prepared to kill anyone not named Franklin. To her surprise, what she discovered was a skeleton of a dog. Just as surprised, this cross between a red Doberman Pincher and Chocolate lab, that looked as if it hadn’t eaten in weeks, yelped and then fell on its haunches as it tried to jump back.
Danica quickly holstered her weapon as she got up on one knee. “It’s okay,” she said, trying to sound friendly. The dog nibbled at its paw. She inched closer, and the animal bared its teeth. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” She held out her hand for inspection, and the dog sniffed it. She moved closer and slowly massaged the side of the dog’s head and ears. He was resistant at first but eventually gave in. As the dog closed his eyes, she took the opportunity to discover a nail embedded in his foot.
“I guess this makes me the mouse,” she said as she took advantage of his distraction and yanked out the nail. He snapped at where her hand had been, but then rolled on his side and let out a great big puff of air as if he was relieved to finally have his ordeal over. Danica slowly moved her hand forward and rubbed his head again. The dog licked her arm and rolled over, letting her know she could, and should, rub his belly. Danica complied, noticing the tattered red collar.
“Whisper,” she said, looking at the name tag. Whisper thudded his thick tail against the ground in excitement and used his paws to push and pull himself into her lap. When he winced in pain, she grabbed him and pulled him to her until his head rested in her lap. He started licking her arm again.
She petted him for a bit, but when she felt rested, she decided it was time to move on.
“All right, Whisper,” she said, getting up. “Time for me to go. Since you’re out here in the middle of nowhere, I imagine your owners are dead. So, if you want to come with me, you can. However, I think it’s only fair to warn you I’m being chased by some pretty dangerous people intent on killing me. If they catch me, they’ll probably kill you too. I’m not trying to scare you off; I just want you to know what you’re getting into if you decide to follow me.”
She reached into her backpack and pulled out what remained of a bag of jerky and offered it to the animal. Whisper stretched out to sniff it and then wolfed it down, loudly smacking his mouth.
“Next time, you might want to chew,” Danica said as the dog sniffed her hand. “Sorry I don’t have anymore. If you come with me, I’ll find you food.” She started off. Whisper took a tentative step, followed by another. He would be slow, but the dog could walk. And he did so for an hour before collapsing.
“I think we both need rest,” she said, as she curled up next to the animal and fell asleep.
CHAPTER 45
The sun was rising high in the sky when Danica opened her eyes. Whisper lay snoring next to her. When she moved, he was instantly awake and thwacked the ground with his tail hard enough to send leaves and dirt flying.
“You rested enough to travel,” she said as she rubbed his snout and ears. She ended up helping him to his feet, and then an hour later, she was left with no choice but to carry him, as leaving him was never an option. Looking as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, she was unsurprised at how light the dog felt in her arms. However, in less than an hour, the animal went from feeling like a paperweight to feeling as if she were carrying several cinder blocks. Just after mid-day, she found a road and turned south. Staying under cover of the forest, she remained within eyesight of the road.
As the sun was preparing to set, Whisper suddenly became excited and despite his injured paw ran around a bend. When she caught up with him, she found the dog waiting for her on a short driveway leading to a light blue and white two-story house surrounded by a white plastic picket fence.
She knocked on the front door, and when there was no answer, she made her way around to the back where she found tattered laundry hanging on a circular clothesline and a lawnmower in the middle of the yard. To be safe, she knocked on the back, and when there was still no answer, she tried the door and found it unlocked.
“Hello,” she yelled, expecting no answer. “State trooper. I’m not here to hurt you. Is anyone home?” Whisper ran past her. She moved to the kitchen and found a pantry full of supplies, including bottled water. She poured herself a glass and Whisper a pot. When the pot was dry, she poured him more. She opened a box of cereal for herself. For Whisper she opened three cans of beef stew and mixed in two cans of green beans. When he finished, he looked up at her.
“That’s enough for now. Eat too much too fast, and you’ll throw up. I’ll feed you more soon.” After she finished a can of peaches and drank the juice, she lifted Whisper on the couch. “Wait here. I’m going to look around.”
She found one homeowner, a young girl no older than herself, naked and dead on the upstairs bathroom floor. Danica wondered how she survived, and this girl did not. What was in her immune system that afforded her an advantage over this innocent young woman? Was it divine intervention? Danica found the girl’s father in the master bedroom, dead of a self-inflicted gunshot to the head. The gun lay on the floor next to the bed.
She picked up the pistol and found a half-empty box of shells in the closet. Out of habit, she replaced the spent cartridge. Next to the box of ammo was a pump shotgun with a handful of shells. There was nothing else worth taking. It wasn’t that the house didn’t have beautiful things, but it was all worthless. Food, water, purifiers, and guns were the new currency. Televisions, Blu-Rays, and microwaves were worthless. Realistically, given humanity’s history with shiny bobbles, gold and diamonds would one day make a comeback.
Danica found a set of keys hanging on a hook in the same position her parents kept their keys. Tears trickled down her cheeks knowing she would never see them again. At least in this lifetime. Maybe God would forgive her for being a lesbian and allow her into the heavens to see them. She got angry with herself. Wasn’t she a good person? She obeyed the Ten Commandments, tried to honor her parents. Surely God didn’t care about this one tiny little detail of her life. She let herself be emotional for a few more moments before she composed herself.
Heading into the garage, she found an SUV, and more importantly, a storage container full of dog food. Since it was late, she decided to spend the night on the couch and get an early start in the morning. She still had to meet up with Franklin. He was probably already waiting for her.
“What,” she said, trying to push something wet away while also trying to keep her eyes closed. When she finally opened them, she discovered Whisper looking
at her. He whined softly. “I bet you have to go outside, don’t you?” Instead, Whisper looked at the window and bared his teeth. That was when she heard people talking.
She mentally kicked herself. She’d been stupid. They knew the direction her group was traveling. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize she would try to meet up with her friends. She should have found a better hiding place. She crept to the window and tried to gauge how many were outside. Peering out, she saw the back of a man’s head heading to the back door. Grabbing the shotgun, she made her way behind the door just as it opened.
“Door’s unlocked,” a man said. “Don’t hold out hope for food.
“We have plenty,” a woman said. Danica realized this was not the Atlanta group.
“I know, but we won’t if we keep eating it,” the man said.
From behind the door, Danica watched a flashlight scan the room and came to rest on Whisper sitting in front of the couch where she was sleeping moments before. Whisper bared his teeth.
“Holy shit, there’s a dog in here,” the man said.
“What kind of dog?” a young boy asked.
“Stay back, Andy,” the female commanded. “The dog could be dangerous. Randel, someone is living here. Shut the door and let’s go.”
“It’s all right,” Danica said, showing herself. Although she held the shotgun ready, she refrained from pointing it at them. She didn’t think these people were dangerous.
“Stop right there,” Randel said, suddenly pointing a rifle at her. The rifle looked unsteady in his hands.
“Point that rifle someplace else,” Danica said calmly. “If I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead.”
“Take it easy, Randel,” the woman said, reaching over and pushing the weapon gently aside. “Can’t you see she’s a police officer?” She turned to Danica. “I’m sorry. We’re just looking for a place to spend the night.”
“You can stay here. Plenty of room.”
“The homeowners?” Randel asked.
