by Ray Wench
Random Survival 2
The Long Search for Home
Ray Wenck
This novel is dedicated to the men and women of
the 180th Fighter Wing of the Ohio Air National Guard
Part One
One
The chill that ran down her spine was all the warning Becca needed. They were getting closer. Her breaths came in deep painful gulps, but to quit would be the end. Knowing what they would do if they caught her, she raced on, ignoring the pain. But the outcome was inevitable. They were bigger, stronger, and more numerous.
Sprinting hard over the open high grass of what had once been a golf course, she reached down and found the handle of the long survival knife her father had given her many years before. In mid-stride, she yanked it free of the sheath strapped along her thigh. With the blade now rising and falling in her hand like a relay racer’s baton, her father flashed through her mind. He was the reason for this journey. If she was going down, she would make him proud.
The pain in her side was almost unbearable, like a knife being pushed deeper with each stride. The thundering footsteps of her pursuers echoed behind her in time with the pounding in her chest. Becca would have to make her stand soon. She would not reach the potential safety of the trees ahead.
As she readied for the battle, she thought of her brother. Where the hell was Bobby? He had gone ahead while she rested, before the men found her and gave chase. If she survived this attack and found he was watching her from a distance, with one swipe of her knife, Becca would make him her sister.
Her pursuers grunted as they pushed harder to overtake her. It was time to face them, before they could take her down.
Stopping took three hard steps to slow and turn. With a savage scream, she whipped the blade in a high arcing backhand swing. The honed edge tore through the first assailant’s throat. The man clutched at his neck as blood spurted into the air in a crimson fountain.
The dying man’s body bumped her as he fell. The second man launched at her. Becca just managed to face him when he struck her high on the chest. The blade impaled the man’s large bare gut, but his momentum drove her over backward. They rolled in a heap, coming to a stop with her hand still clutching the blade, but the man’s body pinned them both to the ground.
The third and fourth men arrived together, hooting at their captured prize. With a huge evil smile, the first man reached for her. She raised a foot to kick him away, but he grabbed it and laughed. That was when the third eye appeared on his forehead wiping the smile off his face. His body stood for a second as if to say, “Damn, so close,” before collapsing.
Bobby!
As the body fell, the fourth man stood gaping. He stopped unfastening his pants, a frantic, almost deranged look on his bearded face. Given the brief gift of time, Becca threw a shoulder into the corpse that still trapped her knife. The body slid and started to roll.
Another shot snapped the man’s attention from Becca, causing him to duck. After a third, he screamed, yet still he stood, unharmed, frozen in place, his manhood clutched tightly in his hand.
He looked behind him. Becca watched him as she freed one leg, pressed her foot against the weight, and pushed. He snarled, focused his wild eyes back on Becca, and pulled his knife. “Bitch,” he spat.
With the blade forward like a spear, he lunged to skewer her. Becca slid free from the body, emitting her own growl. Yanking her blade free, she rolled. Rather than immobilize her, as her fear would’ve done just weeks before, she used the angst to spur movement. The knife wielder was unable to stop his thrust as Becca moved. The downward jab threw his weight forward and off balance. Her heart racing, Becca spun on her bottom. Before her assailant could right himself and turn for a second attack, she screamed and dived at his leg, slicing clean through his Achilles tendon.
The man screamed and hobbled on one leg. Becca rolled clear as the wounded man dropped the knife and fell to the ground, clutching his injured foot. Becca stood and glared down at him. She ignored the sweat burning her eyes. Her breaths came in short, harsh gulps, exploding from her. Her victim rolled from side to side. Two bodies lay a few yards back. I should’ve known Bobby wouldn’t have missed.
The wounded man whimpered. She stood over him, void of emotion. The man pleaded, first for his life, and then for help with his wound.
Steps thundered from behind. Becca spun and crouched, ready again to do battle.
“Becca.” A concerned young man, rifle in hand stopped ten feet from her. “Are you all right?”
All Becca saw was another enemy. With great effort, she sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. She relaxed and lowered the knife. Bobby came closer, and then she nailed her brother with a punch to the chest that rocked him back a step.
“Ow!”
“That’s for taking your time shooting those assholes.”
“I wasn’t taking my time. I was in those woods scouting on the other side. I didn’t even know those hounds had picked up your scent.”
She snorted at the appropriate use of terms. She shuddered at the thought of what they would have done to her had they managed to take her down.
Bobby stepped forward to put an arm around Becca’s shoulders. “Hey, Sis, I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t play games with your safety. Are you all right?”
Becca cringed. She hated being comforted by him. She wanted to shake him off to show she didn’t need his sympathy, but in truth she did need him. She wanted to cry and bury her head in his chest, but this new world had stolen any real emotion from her weeks ago. Everyone she had ever cared about had died – everyone but Bobby and, hopefully, her father, mother, and little brother.
She was so different now and struggled with the conflict within her as if she were two separate people inhabiting one body. Gone was the spoiled, self-absorbed young woman, leaving a shell driven by some strange wild creature. Confused and angry, with each passing day Becca seemed to lose more of her previous identity.
No, she didn’t want to be coddled by her brother, but the small part of her old self that still existed craved the simple comfort.
Bobby held his sister, but not too close. He was well aware of the knife still hanging at her side. Becca was capable of instant and violent reactions. He feared he was losing her, and the thought scared him. When he had seen that pack of animals closing in on her, the fear of failing made keeping his hands steady difficult. He had to stop once, take two quick calming breaths to chase away any emotion, before acquiring his target. He had almost been too late. He fought off his own shudder for fear Becca would feel it too.
Pressing ahead of his sister to scout their path had been stupid. That decision had almost cost Becca her life. He vowed never to make that mistake again. Twice today his poor judgment had cost them. They were lucky to be alive. This new world did not allow too many second chances.
With a sigh, Bobby gave his sister a squeeze and whispered, “I’m sorry, Sis, but we need to get away from here before someone else finds us.”
Becca moved away from him and wiped her face. “You can’t go wandering off like that anymore. You hear me?”
Bobby nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.” To change the subject and avoid her accusing look, he added, “Let’s see if they have anything of value and get moving.”
Ignoring the wounded man, they went through the nearest bodies finding very little that was useful. Four handguns, four knives, and two granola bars. The two dead men farther back yielded another handgun and a shotgun.
“Ready?” Bobby asked.
“Yep.” Becca started back the way they had come.
“Wait! Where you going?”
“Back to get our stuff.”
“No, wait.” Bobby ran to cat
ch up with her. “We’ll be walking right back into trouble.”
His sister continued walking.
“I don’t care. I want our things.”
“Becca, listen. By now those scavengers have taken everything of value.”
“No, they haven’t. They’ve taken all the food and water, but not what was valuable.”
“Food and water are the most valuable commodities now. They’re long gone. It’s not worth the risk to go back there. You’re only asking to attract more trouble.”
“No, Bobby, they’re the ones who asked for trouble when they tried to carjack us.” She whirled on him.
He stopped abruptly to avoid running into her.
“And for your information, the pictures and scrapbooks are the most valuable things we brought with us. They are the only things we have to remind us of our past, of our family. They are important to me. I will not lose them.”
“But, Sis—”
“No!” she screamed, turning on him. Her nostrils flared and eyes narrowed. “I need them. I need them to remind me of better times. I need them because they give me hope that perhaps one day life could be as good again as they were in those pictures. They may be all that’s left of what our family was once like. I can’t leave them, Bobby. I won’t.”
She spun around, walking briskly again.
Behind them the injured man yelled, “Please, you can’t leave me here.”
In an instant, Becca pivoted, let out a war cry, and sprinted toward the lone survivor.
Fearing the carnage, Bobby tried to stop her, but she busted through his arms driving an elbow into his chest. When she reached the man she kicked him twice as he cried out in pain. Then, as Bobby watched in shock, she lifted her foot and stomped on the man’s head. He no longer cried.
“Bastard!” She spat on him and stormed back toward Bobby.
As she passed him, her face appeared unlined and calm. She smiled. “Come on, baby brother, let’s go get our stuff.” She laughed, pushed an arm in the air and released a triumphant shout.
Bobby followed. He marveled at the changes in his sister. She had always been beautiful, smart, and popular, but she had been so lost in herself she seldom noticed others. Now her beautiful face had sunken cheeks, dark-circled eyes, and she had lost the extra pounds her sedentary lifestyle had gathered. She was a hardened, lean woman who had killed several times to survive. Bobby liked this new version of Becca much better, but he was also afraid of and for her. Volatile and often unpredictable, she was strong now and he could rely on her in dangerous situations.
He jogged to catch up to her. “Becca, did you forget they would also have control of our arsenal as well? We didn’t get a good look at how many of them there were. But if they got their hands on the weapons we stashed, it’s gonna be real hard trying to get your pictures back.”
Again she turned on him, this time advancing. “Our pictures, Bobby. They’re our pictures, of our family. How are you going to feel if we get home and find” – she choked – “that they’re all dead?”
“Don’t say that, Becca. Don’t even think it.” Bobby swallowed hard and looked away. He didn’t want to think about that possibility. Pushing her words from his mind, he softened his voice, “Becca, we have to hope.”
“Dead. Dead. Dead. What if this entire trip is for nothing? Won’t you wish you had those scrapbooks then to remind you of who they were and what they looked like?”
Crying, she turned and stormed off. “Well, I’m going even if I have to go alone.”
Bobby stood while she lengthened the distance between them. She really pissed him off sometimes. But her words had struck home. What if their parents were dead? His throat constricted, but just as fast he said aloud, “No! I won’t think about this now.” A quick backhand across his eyes removed any potential tears. Frowning he ran after her. Without a word he pulled up in stride next to her.
“Okay, but follow my lead when we get there.”
“Dream on, dumb jock.”
“God, you can really be annoying.”
“And you can really be a pain in the ass.”
“Bitch.”
“Prick.”
Within three steps, they were both laughing.
“Let’s do this, Sis.”
“You know it, little brother. And I better not find anyone wearing my new shoes or I’m really going to have to hurt someone.”
Bobby smiled. That was the old Becca.
Two
The sky had darkened by the time they made it back to the car. A party appeared to be in progress, the celebration in full swing. Women were trying on Becca’s salvaged wardrobe of expensive designer clothes. They screeched and laughed as they swirled in front of each other as though they were in some bizarre fashion show.
The men were firing off their new weapons as if they had an unending supply of bullets. The cases of food, torn apart, and empty cans and containers lay strewn across a wide area.
Somewhere to the right, a man and woman were getting busy. The woman had one of Becca’s tight skirts lifted up around her neck as the man grunted with each push.
“Ew!” Becca whispered from behind a row of pine trees along the side of the road. “That skirt cost a lot of money.”
“Seriously! That’s what you’re thinking of?”
“Oh, shut up.”
Bobby scanned left to right, trying to get an accurate count of armed men. Six men and four women. The three women not involved in sex stood at the side of the car, rummaging through boxes.
Becca tensed when one of the women looked through a scrapbook and pitched it aside like worthless garbage. Bobby grabbed her arm and held her in place. A low animalistic growl poured from her throat.
“Easy, Sis. Give me a chance to form a plan.”
She relaxed, but her gaze never left the woman.
The car was right where they had left it when they’d been forced to flee for their lives. Fortunately, the attacking mob was not well organized. They also were not very good shots.
Bobby and Becca had been driving down a country road not twenty miles from their destination – home – when a car shot out of the driveway of a farmhouse and broadsided them. The impacting car continued plowing forward until the siblings’ car was sideways in a shallow drainage ditch. Bobby’s shooting kept the attackers at bay while Becca climbed up and out through her window. She then laid down covering fire, allowing Bobby to get clear. A brief gun battle ensued until Bobby saw they were being outflanked. Time to run.
When the pursuers seemed to have given up, Bobby told his sister to take a breather while he scouted ahead. Soon Becca had attracted the six men they had put down on the golf course.
The men were on the far side of the car drinking the warm beer Bobby had hidden inside the trunk. Becca wouldn’t have approved of the use of space. If they could sneak up on the women on the near side of the car, they might be able to gather the things Becca wanted and get away before the men knew they were there. Of course, they would have to subdue and secure the women first.
“I’ve got a plan,” Becca said. “I’m going to take care of the lovers to balance out the odds a bit.” Her knife slid cleanly from the sheath.
Bobby stared at his sister. He had seen Becca kill but never relish it as she appeared to now. He touched her arm. “Sis, remember these people are only trying to survive just as we are. We don’t necessarily need to kill them all.”
“Listen, little brother,” she spat with venom. “You see what that man is doing to that woman? Their friends wanted to do that to me before they killed me. Don’t preach to me about killing. We didn’t attack them. They attacked us. There was no talk, just violence. We didn’t ask for this new world, but we have to live in it. Killing seems to be an acceptable part of it now.”
When Becca had been forced to kill someone for the first time, she had cried, vomited, and cried some more. Now she had no qualms about taking another’s life.
“Just remember, we need to survi
ve too. Don’t go crazy and draw the others’ attention.”
“Don’t worry. You just keep the others off me.” Becca slithered away like a ninja.
Bobby loved his sister, but she was scaring him. Her body wasn’t the only thing that had hardened over the past two months. The scars of the new world were leaving a permanent personality change on her. He would have to watch her closely.
As Becca disappeared into the long grass, Bobby moved left to have a shot at the men. If he timed it right with their target shooting he could drop two of them before they knew what was happening. The rest he could keep pinned down until Becca made her move. He wished his sister had been more reasonable so they could have developed a real plan. She often reacted without thinking. Even if she retrieved the boxes she wanted, they had no way of hauling them out of there. They had no means of escape other than on foot. He would have to plan on the fly.
The pickup truck that had rammed them into the ditch was now sitting in the middle of the street crossways. What were the odds the keys were inside? He looked back at the men. Unless they were all totally drunk or stupid, they weren’t going to stand still and let him shoot them. He and Becca would have to run through open ground to get to a ride.
Glancing to his right, Bobby’s breath caught. One of the women headed for the copulating couple. The other two were watching and laughing. The approaching woman was swirling the dress she had donned and hiking it higher. He hadn’t been able to persuade his sister to leave her wardrobe. The abuse of one of her dresses wouldn’t go over well with Becca. The woman was either taunting the two or lining up to be next. Whatever her intentions, she had no idea she was heading toward certain death.
A nervous sensation spread throughout his gut as he moved. Dammit, Becca. They should have waited. At least until after dark. Now it would get bloody.
Bobby looked back at the woman. She had the dress hiked up to her chest, attempting to squat down over the other woman’s face. The volume of laughter increased as the other two women joined in.
