The door to the room swung open and there stood Rory. Anna instinctively cast her eyes down and tried not to look at him, and she was immediately ashamed. A shudder ran through her, as she could feel the dirty hands all over her again, holding her down. Fresh tears began rolling down her cheeks, she felt vulnerable, and she felt weak, just as he wanted. The whores had fallen silent when Rory had appeared, and then he spoke.
“Get out,” he commanded.
Without a word or a backward glance, the girls left the room at the very moment when Anna wanted nothing more than for them to stay. She did not want to be left alone with this man. Rory had been there the whole night, sitting silently through most of it, seemingly bored with her suffering and humiliation. She had once called Coal a monster, she didn’t know what a real monster was until now.
“The boss wants to have a word sweetheart,” Rory said with a grin.
The Cavalry
Kyle pulled the buggy over the edge of the rise just south of town, as he looked down at the sprawling settlement and in particular the blue water tower his heart began to beat faster. He knew Anna and the men that had taken her were down there and that one way or another it would all end today. Coal stood in the passenger seat his rifle in his hands, he was grinning from ear to ear and had drawn lines with red lipstick across his face, “war paint” he had insisted. The town looked quiet, almost peaceful or at least as peaceful as you can get in this post-apocalyptic world. Kyle knew that was all about to change.
Catching up to the buggy two dozen Indian braves on horseback thundered over the rise and pulled up in a long line flanking the buggy on each side. Each carried a long spear and a variety of knives, hatchets and other handheld weapons. To a man, they had painted their faces, chests, and horses with a variety of designs, colors and curse words. Chief Red Bear, in particular, had dressed for the occasion, the Chief wore a flowing feather war bonnet and carried a large hand axe in his belt.
Coal called out to Red Bear. “Chief, just remember, follow us and we’ll guide you into these bastards, just try not to kill anybody else.”
“My braves will defend themselves, as I have said, but these dogs you have spoken of, those that would spill our blood, these dogs will feel our blades,” the chief shouted back, eliciting a loud round of battle cries from the eager braves.
Another rider pulled up next to the wagon. Coal and Two-Steps locked eyes, and the Chief’s brother shouted. “You just remember your promises Coal, because you had better believe I’ll remember mine!”
Kyle could wait no longer, he punched the throttle to the floor, and the Martian buggy leaped down the slope and began racing across the last stretch of open desert between them and the town. Coal fell back into the cab as the vehicle bounced violently.
“Damn it, Kyle!” Coal shouted. “Watch the bumps!”
“This could be a terrible idea Coal,” Kyle said in response shaking his head.
“This is a great idea! Red Bear wanted an excuse to lead his braves into battle and what better excuse than a blood feud. Helping to avenge the murder of his favorite cousin’s three dead wives? Or four if I catch that bitch Tamara, I’ll…” Coal began.
“And what did you have to promise the council to green light this little trip?” Kyle asked cutting him off. The Scavenger had been excluded from the meeting.
Coal paused before answering, and Kyle knew that whatever his answer, it wasn’t going to be good.
“A lot?” Coal finally admitted.
“What exactly?” Kyle asked.
“Nothing we have to worry about unless we survive this. Of course when I say “we” I mean the City Council since of course, we are acting on their behalf,” Coal said grinning, and Kyle just shook his head.
Behind them the braves of the nation charged across the desert in a long line on either side of the speeding buggy. A wall of dust more than a quarter of a mile long rose up in their wake like a wave upon a dry ocean. It was as if the anger of the desert could no longer be contained and it had unleashed its fury upon the town. In a way, Kyle considered, that was exactly what was about to happen.
As the buggy neared town, Kyle turned towards an alley between two large buildings, with a single violent bounce the vehicle cleared the curb and hit the paved streets. The black plastic wheels squealed angrily against the hard city streets, but Kyle didn’t let off the gas for a moment. The buggy rocketed down the alleyway, and the Indians charged behind them riding two abreast. The sound of their thundering hooves was deafening in the narrow space.
Kyle crossed the next street in a heartbeat, a pair of ragged looking scavengers pushing a shopping cart stood in the middle of the street stunned into silence at sight of the functioning vehicle. Coal waved at them from the passenger seat wearing huge grin as they flew past. The men bolted for cover the moment they saw the Indians that began to pour from the alleyway following the buggy.
The next alleyway was blocked by a pile of rubble, but Kyle didn’t bat an eye. After a day of driving across some of the worst countries around, he knew what the vehicle could do. The buggy hit the pile of debris, and the cab lurched up at almost a 45-degree angle. The vehicle slowed but never stopped climbing, a few moments later they dropped over the top of the pile and rolled down on to Main Street U.S.A. The Indians ponies, born and breed for the rough terrain of the open desert cleared the top a moment later and thundered down behind them. Kyle pulled the wheel hard to the right, the vehicle responded in a squeal of tires and began picking up speed again as it raced down Main Street.
Up ahead more townspeople could be seen on the street, alone and in small groups. Some stood perplexed at the sight of the buggy and most ran for cover at the sight of the charging Indians. The Hub loomed ahead, it was a hive of activity as shopkeepers and patrons ran in every direction, scooping up their goods, closing up their shops or just cowering in fear. A dozen wooden shacks and trailers turned storefronts kept Kyle from cutting straight across the Hub. So he jerked the wheel to the left to circle around it. At first, he tried to dodge the rickety chairs and tables set out by the Juice vendors, but he ended up plowing through or over most of them, leaving a trail of destruction behind him. The trader’s panic that was only highlighted a moment later by the two dozen screaming Indians that followed in his wake. The war party cleared the other side of the Hub continuing down Main Street as the tower loomed ahead of them.
The usual line of water seekers started a block and half away from the tower. As the high pitched electric wine followed by the clatter of hooves reached the gathered people, heads began to turn and looked up the street as the approaching horde. Coal laughed out loud as he watched them scatter, many dropping the items that had hoped to trade. The Indian could make out Murphy’s guards reaction also. The men ran back to the fenced in base of the tower, pushing over and beating down anyone unlucky enough to get caught in their path. A handful of people tried to run through the gate and seek shelter, and they were savagely beaten without mercy as Murphy’s men tried to secure the gates.
“Well so much for no innocent people getting hurt,” Coal said.
Kyle pulled the buggy hard to the left and slammed on the breaks. The plastic wheels skidded with a hair-raising squeal, and the back end slid around as the vehicle lurched to a stop. They were in the street directly between the water tower and Murphy’s club, the Indians were still at full gallop and racing up the street half a block behind them. The half dozen guards milling about out front of the club just stared at them in confusion. Each man gripped a long gun, an odd assortment of hunting rifles, shotguns, and at least one M16. Kyle had often wondered if the guns were loaded, looks like they were about to find out.
“So, we can send Red Bear’s braves over to attack the tower and while…” Coal’s words were cut short as Kyle slammed on the gas. The rear tires squealed to life, and the buggy launched forward racing towards the club.
Three of the guards out front opened fire as the rest ran for the bar, rounds hissed passed t
he car, one struck the roll cage in a shower of carbon fiber, and another struck the hood then exploded through the dashboard zipping just between them. The majority of the shots went wide, too few rounds to practice with and too many years in between seemed to have taken its toll. The buggy ran straight for the front of the building, having already covered half of the parking lot but still accelerating.
“So, is your plan to…” Coal began to ask and then just shook his head, he wrapped one arm through the seat harness and put a leg up on the dash.
As the former strip mall turned club grew larger and larger in front of them Kyle aimed for one of the few large storefront windows that remained intact. The Scavenger had a death grip on the wheel and began to scream in rage as they raced towards the wall. Coal grinned and joined him, screaming a war cry at the top of his lungs. The front wheels of the buggy struck the curb three feet from the base of the wall, the rugged suspension launched the front end upward, and the vehicle sailed through the large window in a hail of shattered glass and splintered frame.
Two of Murphy’s men and a table were instantly crushed by their unexpected entry. The buggy was just long enough to fit diagonally across the room effectively cutting the space in two. The front end of the buggy slammed against the bar, which in turn slammed against the back wall crushing Mark and another bartender caught in between. Roughly fifty of Murphy’s men stood around momentarily stunned by the car's unexpected entry, a few carried guns but most were armed with clubs and knives. Kyle didn’t waste a moment, still, in the driver’s seat he raised the double barrel shotgun to his shoulder and fired the first and then the second barrel into the crowd. At five feet the results were terrifying, six men went down either dead or screaming.
The shots seemed to break the spell that had fallen over Murphy’s men, the crowd lunged forward at Kyle like a wave of violence. Several shots rang out, and a bullet smashed against the side of the buggy. The next took a man in the front of the group’s head right off as the gunmen fired from the back of the crowd. Coal leaped to his feet in the passenger’s seat and leaning over the top of the roll cage began to fire his .30-06, working the action with quick, controlled strokes. A pair of men dropped as the shots struck home, a third hit a man in the shoulder and then exited his back sending the man behind him screaming to his knees. The Indian spent half a breath longer on the last shot, and the final round killed a man at the back of the group wielding a pistol.
The enraged group of killers surged forward to attack. Three men at the front of the group thinking quickly overturned a wooden table and thrust it ahead of them, running at Kyle. The legs of the table slammed up against the side of the crashed buggy momentarily trapping Kyle. A dozen hands, some holding knives others gripping clubs lashed out at Kyle’s exposed head and legs. One blade sliced down his calf, and he screamed. On the other side of the buggy, Coal saw that he was in trouble and moved to help.
“Kyle!” He screamed, “Get out of there!” But a pair of men grabbed him from behind. He was forced to drop his rifle and pull his hunting knife.
Kyle yanked the magnum from its holster them jammed the barrel flat against the wooden table that was trapping him. He fired the gun off three times as fast as he could work the action. Men screamed and collapsed on the other side of the thin layer of wood, blood poured through the jagged holes his rounds hand blown into the table bottom as if the furniture itself was bleeding to death. He pushed the table forward putting his legs up on the buggy to give himself leverage. The table and the men behind it fell backward as the living tripped over the dead and dying. Kyle then turned and jumped back into the cab of the buggy, he quickly crawled back across to the passenger side to escape the murderous crowd.
Coal was there to meet him having slit the throat of his last attacker, the half-breed was covered in the blood of the two men, and his eyes were wild as he grinned from ear to ear. The two men regarded each other for a heartbeat and for a brief moment Kyle thought he was looking into a mirror, looking at a blood-soaked image of himself. A thrown knife whipped between them snapping Kyle back to reality as the pair turned to face the group of killers. A half dozen men were attempting to crawl over, through or around the crashed buggy to reach them. At that moment a blood-curdling scream announced the war party’s arrival and the group suddenly had something more pressing than Coal and Kyle to consider.
The first brave to reach the bar had far more courage than sense. His pony leaped straight through the opening that the buggy had made. Mounted on horseback and ducking down beneath the low ceiling he speared one of Murphy’s men through the chest and then a second before the sheer weight of their numbers surrounded and overwhelmed him, and he was pulled from the horse's back. Even as he fell, Kyle watched the young warrior pull a belt knife and stab one of his attackers repeatedly. The animal itself added to the fray as the unseated horse slipped on the bloody floor and went down kicking and screaming in terror. It forced back Murphy’s men, as they had to dodge the frantic kicks of the terrified animal.
A dozen more braves abandoned their ponies outside and flooded through the opening a moment later. The Indians led with their spears skewering a half dozen men as they charged, then they dropped the spears and wadded in for the close kill. Knives, machetes, and hatchets sprung into their hands as they launched themselves screaming into the bloody madness that the bar had become. Just as Kyle had witnessed during his desert ambush, Murphy’s men weren’t use to an enemy that fought back. As more of Red Bear’s braves flooded into the bar the councilman’s men started to fall back, the group of killers slinking away from a fair fight. The Indians were still outnumbered nearly two-to-one, but the braves were well fed and well-armed, with a battle cry on every man’s lips as they joined the fray.
“Where’s Anna?” Kyle yelled to Coal in desperation as he frantically watched the carnage.
“Has to be wherever Murphy is at,” Coal replied, and at that, both men turned to look at the councilman’s office door at the same moment.
The pair ran towards the office, but as they passed by the bar’s doorway, they could see a pair of men crouching, each carried long rifles. Kyle’s unexpected entry through the front of the building had ruined their hastily planned ambush. One of the men turned and saw them, he hesitated for a moment and then tried to raise his weapon. Coal pounced on him with his bloody knife still in his hand, the rifle went off blowing a hole in the ceiling above them.
“Coal!” Kyle shouted.
“Go get her, I got this!” the half-breed screamed as the second man joined the fight, his rifle useless in the narrow entryway.
Kyle ran to the office door, his heart pounding in his ears even louder than the killing taking place around him. He drew the bloody magnum back into his fist, took a breath and kicked the door in. Murphy was waiting for him.
The Councilman stood in his fine silver and black suit just in front of his desk, holding his shiny pistol up to Anna’s head. He held the woman in front of him, an arm across her chest as she was wrapped only in a blanket. Kyle lowered his gun at the sight of his wife.
“Anna?” Kyle called to her softly.
“Oh Kyle, so happy…,” Murphy was speaking, but Kyle didn’t care he was just looking at his wife.
He could see that she had been badly beaten, her face was bruised and swollen on one side. Her clothes had been stripped from her and the blanket she wore barely fell to her thighs, but from what he could see from the rest of her body she was covered in purple bruises, red scratches, and human bite marks. He looked back up to her face, she was staring down at the floor, tears sliding down her cheeks.
“Anna?” he called to her again.
Her head came up very slightly, her eyes met his for a moment and then dropped down to the floor again. In that brief moment, Kyle found the worst part, the look in her eyes, the look of shame and humiliation. Her body began to shake as she sobbed quietly. Kyle looked away too, ashamed of himself, this had all been his fault. He had been the one that had p
ushed them into trying to escape this town. His actions had forced them to have to flee. Now Dante, Pauli and his wife had all paid for his decisions.
“It’s all my fault,” Kyle choked out, as he fought back tears.
“…What? Why yes, yes, it is! I’m glad to see you’ve been listening to me. That’s because you’re a smart one Kyle, a rare thing these days,” Councilman Murphy commended him and Kyle looked up, realizing the Kingpin had been talking.
“Now as I was saying, with Vincent dead and no hard feelings over that of course. I’m beginning to realize how hard it is to find smart men. Now with the Doctor here working for me, I’m going to need a smart man to oversee our little hospital. With her skills and your little stash of pills, I think we’ll be making chits hand over fist in no time at all. I mean everyone needs a Doctor sooner or later. Isn’t that right Kyle?” Murphy said finishing his pitch. Kyle just looked up at the man in confusion and revulsion, after all the blood spilled and the lives lost, the man’s only goal still remained at figuring out how best he could profit from the misery he created.
His words must have struck home for Anna too, the very antithesis of her life’s work spelled out. Kyle glanced back at his wife’s face, her head was up now, and through tears were still fresh on her cheeks, she had stopped crying. Kyle saw it then, and his heart skipped a beat, the anger in her eyes at the councilman’s words. Kyle knew at that moment that they would be alright, that she would be herself again in time. But in her condition Anna had very few options on how to fight, so she took a breath and then simply collapsed to the floor.
The blanket wrapped around Anna slid off, still clutched in the councilman’s grip as she fell at his feet. Murphy looked down at the empty blanket he held for half a heartbeat and then his eyes went wide as he looked back up at Kyle, he raised the .45. The Scavenger bolted to his right bringing the magnum up as both men began to fire. Across the narrow space of the office, the big .45 blew a series of holes along the wall were Kyle had stood just a moment before. Kyle began firing as well, across his body while at a run, emptying the last three shells. The shots from both men were wild, each spending the equivalent of a fortune as fast as they possibly could.
To Cross a Wasteland Page 41
