Brink of Extinction | Book 2 | Stay Alive

by Shupert, Derek

  “I have a place we might be able to use,” Anna said, rubbing the crown of Shadow’s head. “A motel on the north side of the city. Off the main highway.”

  “Oh. You do?” I peered in the rearview mirror.

  “Yeah. It’s one that I’ve used a number of times when I’ve come to Salt Lake for work.” Anna scratched behind Shadow’s ear. “It’s never crowded and is good for lying low.”

  “I wouldn’t have pegged Salt Lake as a frequent destination for you,” I said.

  “You go where there’s work,” Anna replied.

  “What sort of work do you do?” Cindy asked, looking back toward her.

  “Let’s just say that I track people down that are hard to find,” Anna replied. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, but that’s the general idea.”

  “Sounds like,” Cindy said. “You don’t look old enough to be doing such things, if I’m being honest.”

  “Yeah, I get that a lot,” Anna replied. “But sometimes it’s a good thing. People tend to underestimate women who look small and meager. Big surprise when they find out that they’re wrong.”

  The tears racing down Cindy’s cheeks had slowed to a trickle. She wiped them away with her hand. “I’m not sure how I can repay either of you for what you did for me and tried to do for my husband, but I do appreciate it more than you know. I fear that I would’ve died in that house along with my husband.”

  “I’m just sorry we couldn’t do more to save him,” I said in a somber tone.

  Cindy smiled through the pain she battled. She touched my forearm. “You did more than I could’ve asked for. Both of you. I’m fortunate that you were close by. Speaking of, how did you come across the house?”

  “That’s another story,” Anna answered.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SCARFACE

  It was the end of the world as we knew it, or so it seemed.

  A blanket of silver covered the road and the surrounding land—a harsh landscape of nothingness that spanned for miles with no human touch to guide our way.

  The headlights of the jeep ripped through the soot and waning darkness that hung over us like a shroud. The windshield wipers moved at full tilt, batting away the ash that fell without pause. White lightning crackled within the dark, swollen clouds. Thunder rumbled.

  Jackal ran his hand over his head and face. He glanced at his palm, noticing the black streaks. “Man. This is like some biblical end of the world type of shit,” he said, rubbing his palm across his thigh. “Like brimstone and hellfire raining down from the heavens. I wonder if the big man upstairs has grown tired of us punching everyone’s clock and sending them his way.”

  “I doubt we’ve sent that many his way,” I said, my nose buried in Lawson’s black book, studying every page for any sort of hint of where his wife and son could be. So far, I had come up empty with any leads, but I continued through his notes. “I’d venture to say that the majority of people we’ve set free from this life have headed down, not up. I imagine the red guy below is gathering quite the mass of souls.”

  Jackal squinted, then rubbed his eyes again. “Whatever’s in the air is killing my eyes.”

  A car materialized through the ash—idle in the middle of the road.

  “Whoa!” I pointed out the windshield.

  Jackal flinched, then yanked his hand from his face. “Oh, shit.” He jerked the steering wheel clockwise, then slammed the brakes. The jeep skidded over the pavement at an angle, missing the rear of the dark-gray sedan by mere inches. The abrupt stop threw me at the windshield.

  I dropped the black book.

  My hands pressed against the dash. The seat belt snapped taut. The front end of the jeep ran off the road and down into a low lying ditch. The engine rattled, then died.

  “Jesus Christ.” Jackal panted. His fingers were wrapped around the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned a milky white. He glanced over his shoulder at the sedan. “That damn thing came out of nowhere. Why the hell is a car sitting in the middle of the road?”

  My heart punched my chest, and my head swelled with adrenaline. I took a deep breath, then exhaled through pursed lips. “No clue.” I glanced in the side-view mirror, then craned my neck over my shoulder.

  The gray sedan sat parked at an angle in the middle of the road. Both the front and back driver’s side doors hung open. A splatter of blood painted the inside of the windshield.

  Jackal turned the key in the ignition, then pumped the gas. The engine grumbled, rattled, but wouldn’t start. He slapped the steering wheel. “Damn it.”

  “Give it a minute before trying again,” I said, studying the sedan. “Ash might have gotten into the air filter.”

  I turned in my seat, looking to the back of the jeep.

  “What are you looking for?” Jackal asked.

  “Seeing if they have an extra mask, face covering, or something else I can use to keep the ash away,” I answered. The low light and slight burn in my eyes made it challenging to see. “Hit the interior lights, will ya?”

  Jackal searched the dash, hands running over the knobs on both sides of the steering wheel. “Got it.”

  The interior light above us came on, casting the cab in a dim, yellow hue. I rifled through the odds and ends dumped in the seat. It looked like an array of engine parts and other junk I couldn’t quite make–Hold on.

  I reached toward the far corner of the seat behind Jackal, spotting what looked to be a pair of goggles. They hung from a bungy cord that clipped over a hook mounted to the side of the jeep.

  “Find something?” Jackal asked.

  “Yeah. Some goggles were hanging up back there. I didn’t see another pair, though.”

  I flipped them around and looked at the rubber lens. The fronts had dirt and grime caked on them. I ran my thumb over each, trying to wipe them clean.

  “You sure you want to put those on?” Jackal scrunched his face, watching me as I adjusted the strap.

  “It’s better than nothing. My eyes still sting. These will at least keep the soot and anything else in the air out of them until we can find something more suitable.” I rubbed the lenses across my thighs, slipped them over my head, then covered my eyes. I pulled the hood of the coat up and over my head, then grabbed the door handle. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to check the sedan out. See if you can get the jeep going again.”

  Jackal looked at the dash, then back to me with a raised brow. “I’ll do what I can.”

  I pushed open the door, then stepped out of the jeep. The cool wind punched my face.

  “Here. Take the heater with you, just in case.” Jackal held out the pistol. I took it from his hand, turned away, and slammed the door shut. I shuffled toward the sedan and cycled a round.

  The smudges on the lenses of the goggles distorted my vision some. The sting in both eyes lessened, but still remained. I trotted across the road toward the driver’s side of the vehicle, sweeping the immediate perimeter for any movement.

  I moved along the front end, past the open driver’s side door. A body laid slumped over in the seat. His knuckles rested on the pavement outside the car. The seat belt kept him in place, half dangling out of the car.

  Ash gathered on the corpse, coating the back of his skull with a silver hue and covering a portion of the hole he had in the middle of his head. It looked fresh from what I could see—still wet and moist.

  A woman leaned against the dash in the front passenger seat with her head trained my way. The side of her face pressed against the gray surface. The strands of her blonde hair dangled to the sides. Her wide eyes looked at me. Trails of blood snaked down her face from the hole in the middle of her forehead. Brain and bone speckled the windshield.

  The jeep’s engine whined in the whistling wind behind me, but didn’t start. I turned toward the rear of the grumbling vehicle. The bright gleam of the red brake lights flashed, then died.

  I moved away from the front driver’s seat to the back seat of the sedan. A small bod
y laid across the bench seat, facing the passenger side of the vehicle. It looked to be a kid.

  A mural of blood coated the interior door. The hood of the dark navy-blue coat covered their head, hiding the face of the child. I couldn’t make much else out, but didn’t want to. Killing kids didn’t set well with me.

  Damn it.

  The trunk of the sedan flapped up and down from the wind catching the lid. I shook the image of the dead kid from my thoughts and made for the trunk. I pushed it all the way open, then peered inside.

  Two suitcases sat stuffed in the back along with other bags and odds and ends that filled every inch of the cramped trunk. Each had been gone through. Clothes hung from the openings and were tossed to the sides of the cargo hold. I rummaged through the clutter, finding nothing of use.

  Light shined from behind me into the trunk and grew brighter. I paused, then peered over my shoulder.

  A set of headlights sliced through the falling ash and slowed to a stop in the middle of the road about twenty paces behind the sedan. I held fast, watching the idling truck from the edge of the coat’s hood. I glanced over to the jeep, but didn’t spot Jackal through the falling soot.

  The passenger side doors flung open. Two men stepped down from the truck and moved around the front end. I tilted my head a hair farther to the side, getting a better look at them.

  Both had tactical rifles pressed to their chests, fingers next to the trigger guard. Arctic cameo ballistic vests protected their torsos. Each wore full-face gas masks with large silver filters on both sides.

  I kept the pistol at my side—out of view. They stopped about ten paces away, blocking some of the light from the truck’s headlights. I turned to face them, slipping the pistol behind my back.

  The wind rushed my face. I tilted my head forward, shielding my exposed skin from the elements.

  They stood next to each other. The one at my two o’clock leaned to the side, then craned his neck, looking at the sedan. He had a white skull painted on the front of his vest.

  His partner had the same but in red. His gloved hand repositioned over the handguard, but he didn’t bring it to bear.

  “Looks like you got some car trouble there,” Red Skull shouted through the mask. His partner nudged his arm, then pointed at the jeep.

  “Yeah. Looks that way.” My finger slipped inside the trigger guard and rested on the kill switch.

  Both men shifted their weight, and leaned close to one another while staring at the red glow of the jeep’s taillights.

  “Where you heading?” Red Skull asked.

  “Nearest town,” I answered. My hand squeezed the grip of the pistol harder. I studied the men’s movements. They looked antsy after seeing the jeep, shifting their weight and glancing at me as if they might try something. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the closest one would be, would you?”

  He pointed in the direction we were heading. “Elko is about—”

  White Skull shouldered his rifle, then brought it to bear. He trained it at the jeep and pressed the side of the mask to the stock.

  A single report crackled in the dismal sky. His head snapped back before he could squeeze the trigger. He fell flat on his back, hitting the pavement hard.

  Red Skull stooped, then backed toward the front of the truck with his rifle shouldered.

  I opened fire.

  Two rounds hit him center mass, but didn’t punch through his vest. He stumbled back against the grille and returned fire.

  I dropped to the ground and rolled toward the passenger side of the sedan. The incoming rounds hammered the bumper and trunk lid behind me. White muzzle fire flashed from the corner of my eye.

  Red Skull retreated to the passenger side of the truck, firing in the direction of the jeep. Bullets punched the grille and top of the hood, trailing after him.

  The wheel man fired from the driver’s seat at Jackal, sending him scrambling for cover on the far side of the jeep. I locked on to Red Skull who crouched against the fender of the truck, then worked his way past the door.

  I fired through blurred vision, aiming for any part of his body that wasn’t shielded. Three rounds chased him down. One went wide while the another pinged off the body of the vehicle. He reached for the door handle and pulled, cracking the door open. He stumbled forward, then fell to the ground, face first.

  Jackal fired at the windshield, hammering the glass and the driver behind the wheel. The driver convulsed, then slumped in the seat.

  I advanced on the truck with my pistol trained at Red Skull. I glanced at the driver inside the cab for a split second, then back to Red. I nudged his boot. He didn’t move. I couldn’t spot an entry wound on his body.

  Jackal whistled loudly, standing at the front of the truck. He offered a thumbs up. I parroted the gesture. I grabbed Red by the arm and flipped him over onto his back.

  Blood painted the side of his neck, the top of his shirt, and vest. The lower part of his mask had been damaged from the bullet exiting right above his jaw.

  A lucky shot, all things considered, but the mask was toast.

  I leaned over his body and jerked the passenger door open. Jackal stood on the other side, patting down the driver. He reached inside the flap of his coat, feeling around.

  “Who are these guys?” he asked, pulling his hand out from the man’s coat.

  “Not sure. They may have known the guys we killed back at the plane, though,” I answered, skimming over the floorboard and center console. “When they spotted the jeep, they acted suspect.”

  The static from a two-way radio hissed from inside the cab. A voice crackled, fading in and out. We both froze and listened to the garbled mess, but couldn’t make out the transmission.

  I leaned forward on the front of my feet, then craned my neck. I looked at the center console and spotted a radio lying face down.

  The driver’s hand laid on the back of the radio. I moved it out of the way and grabbed the two-way.

  “–over. What’s–status–” the garbled voice said before cutting out.

  “Did you get that jeep running by chance?” I asked, looking over to Jackal.

  He nodded. “I did, for now.”

  “The next town up is Elko. Not sure how far away it is, though.” I backed away from the cab, then tossed the radio to the passenger seat. I left the door open and moved to the front of the truck.

  Jackal kept his rifle pressed to his chest and walked around the bumper to meet me. He tilted his head at an angle to block the wind. I leaned in close.

  “There seems to be a lot of heat out here,” Jackal said, pointing at White Skull with the barrel of his rifle.

  “Agreed. When we get to Elko, we need to gather some proper gear and move on,” I replied. “Probably need to find another ride and get a map as well. No telling how much longer that jeep’s going to run before it dies for good.”

  “You think we’ll run into any more trouble?”

  “No telling, but trouble always seems to find us no matter where we go.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CORY

  An apocalyptic wasteland. That’s what Salt Lake City looked like from afar.

  The skyline hid behind the falling ash. Portions of the buildings peaked through the dull-gray hue that washed out the city and surrounding areas. The thick, swollen clouds clung to the dismal sky, refusing to leave.

  “That looks bleak,” Anna said from the middle of the back seat. “I wonder if the entire country looks like this.”

  “It’s gotten worse,” Cindy replied, pointing out of the windshield. “The ash started to fall a few days ago, but not as bad as this. The city put out a general warning for all residents to stay indoors and minimize going outside, but I never heard what caused it. Volcano most likely.”

  I jerked the steering wheel, missing another car parked in the middle of the highway. The SUV skirted past the sedan, threading its bulky frame between the vehicle and guard rail.

  “Seems like traffic is a bit heavy h
ere,” Anna said, holding onto the front driver and passenger seats. “I wonder if these vehicles stalled because of the ash, or if there was a bad wreck that jammed traffic up ahead, and they weren’t able to get it cleared.”

  I pumped the brake and followed the highway around the rim of the city, weaving in and out of the cars that lay before us. “I imagine the falling ash choked the engines. I wouldn’t be surprised if ours didn’t die soon with the amount that’s coming down.”

  “Let’s just hope that doesn’t happen. I’d prefer to not walk through that mess again,” Anna replied. “The motel isn’t much farther up the road here. You’ll need to take the next exit.”

  I glanced at the gauges on the dash, checking for any issues with the engine. No bright-colored warnings flashed, for now. I looked to the side-view mirror for any vehicles in tow, but spotted no headlights slicing through the soot.

  I kept to the far side of the road, watching for the exit to appear on the large-green signs that hung above the highway.

  Anna tapped my shoulder, then pointed ahead. “Past that tanker truck up there, the highway curves. The exit is right after that. It’s easy to miss if you’re not paying attention. I’ve done it a few times.”

  “Got it,” I replied, pulling back onto the shoulder of the highway to go around more cars that sat in our way.

  We cruised at a modest thirty miles an hour past the ash-covered vehicles. I followed the curve of the highway past the tanker truck and around the guard rail of the bridge that slanted down at an angle.

  The exit sign appeared through the gray ashfall, followed by an off-ramp. I cut the steering wheel clockwise, taking the exit. We followed the snaking off-ramp down to the street below that had fewer cars blocking our paths.

  A few people trudged along the sidewalks with garments and scarfs covering their faces. They folded their arms across their chests to stay the onslaught of cold.

  “At the light coming up, take a right.” Anna pointed out the powerless traffic lights up ahead.