Stryker: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale

by Bobby Andrews

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” he said. “My name is John.” He stood and offered his hand, and both Stryker and Haley shook with him. Stryker continued to observe John and noted he seemed afraid of the rifle and would not maintain eye contact. His cheeks were covered with the red blooms of broken blood vessels, his eyes were watery, and his hands shook gently.

  “May I have a private word with you?” Stryker asked.

  “Of course.” The two men moved out of earshot.

  “None of my business, I admit, but I have to tell you that we just got done killing eleven men to get some other women and your daughter away from some very bad guys. Trouble has come to your door already, and it will come again. I am guessing you don’t have any weapons? Is that correct?”

  “I don’t like guns,” the man whispered, looking away.

  “Mary’s not going to do well with a defenseless drunk taking care of her. Think that over.” The man looked as though he had been slapped across the face. Stryker went to the pickup, grabbed a holstered Glock and three magazines taken from Brody’s gang, walked back, and handed it to John. “I have real reservations arming an untrained alcoholic, but that’s the world we live in now. I’d go to a library and read up on weapon safety if I was you.” He looked at Haley and jerked his head toward the pickup.

  “We need to go now, Mary,” Haley said.

  “Okay. And thank you for bringing me home.” Haley and Stryker exchanged uncertain glances and Haley kissed the top of Mary’s head.

  “Be good and be careful, okay?” Mary nodded solemnly. Stryker nodded at John, and they got in the pickup and started back to the house.

  “I really hope we did the right thing taking her back,” Haley said. She apparently shared Stryker’s opinion of John.

  “There was nothing else we could do. If we kept her against her will, that would make us the same as Brody and his gang. I don’t like it, but I’m old enough to know that life is a series of unpleasant choices. I didn’t want to arm the man either. Between knowing nothing about guns and having a clear alcohol problem that was a hard one to call.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “He has a chance of straightening out and learning how to use the pistol safely. He has zero chance of surviving and protecting Mary if both those things don’t happen; frankly, I doubt they will.”

  “Mr. Sunshine,” she sighed.

  Sarge and Erin were sitting on the porch talking when they arrived back at the house. The sun was just starting to merge with the horizon when they turned off the engine and joined them.

  “What are you talking about?” Haley asked.

  “What to do next,” Erin replied.

  “About what?”

  “Where everyone is going.”

  “I thought we were going to Stryker’s ranch.”

  “I guess we are. But the others haven’t decided what they want to do.”

  “That’s pretty crazy,” Stryker said. “Maybe you two could make it on your own. They wouldn’t have a chance.”

  “I know,” Erin replied. “We think we need to convince them to stay with us.”

  “Is dinner ready?” Stryker asked.

  “Ten minutes.”

  “Is there a well here?”

  “In the back yard. Hand operated.”

  “I gotta wash up. Let’s talk to them over dinner.” Erin shrugged and Stryker walked through the house, listening to the other women chatting about where they wanted to go. He shook his head, walked through the kitchen, snagged a towel and a bar of hand soap, and went out the back door.

  He took his shirt off, filled a bucket by the pump and lathered up, then rinsed off. After he dried himself with the towel, he put his shirt back on and went into the house. When he reentered the kitchen, Erin and Haley were furiously stirring something in a pot and adding spices to it.

  “Are we ready to eat?” Stryker asked.

  “Yes. Call the others and we can all serve ourselves. Can you get some water for us too?” Erin asked. “The well water is good so why waste the bottled water.”

  “Good thinking.” She handed him two large pitchers and he returned to the well, filled them, came back to the house, and set the pitchers on the kitchen table.

  “Dinner,” Haley yelled. Soon everyone was serving themselves spaghetti with a tomato sauce that contained mostly canned vegetables and bits of spam. Everyone moved to the dining room and took a seat.

  “We want to talk to you about staying with the group,” Erin started between bites of food.

  “I’m going along,” Elle said. “My parents were in Europe when the plague hit. Even if they’re alive, I don’t know how they would get back here. I really don’t have any choice, unless I go with Jenna or Mia.”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Jenna said. “But my parents live in San Antonio – or they did – so I can always just leave from the ranch once we get there. How far is it to San Antonio from there?” she asked.

  “About two hours by car,” Stryker answered.

  “What about you?” Erin asked Mia.

  “My home is in upstate Maine. It’s the other direction and I think I have to try to get home and see if my parents are alive.”

  “Before you do that, can Sarge and I talk with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “We’ve been out there and it’s not pretty. The cities are filled with bodies and the stench is so bad you can’t even get close to them. The countryside is better, but still dangerous. There are going to be other men like the ones who took you captive.” Stryker paused for a moment and saw he was getting nowhere. Her brow was puckered into a row of stubborn folds. “I hate to say this, but there is no chance they are alive. Or, at least not enough of one to be worth the risk. The people here are alive because they had unique situations. You guys had the good luck to talk to the doctor who told you how to get through it. I think Sarge’s family must be immune. And I think I’m immune.”

  “My parents might be immune, too, and they live on a farm. I think it’s possible they survived and I have to find out. If you give me a map, I can always catch up with you if I’m wrong.”

  “We can’t do that,” Stryker replied. “I can’t have a map of our location getting into the wrong hands. I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. But there’s a town call San Angelo, Texas, about two hours from my ranch. Every Saturday they have a trading post. As far as I know, it’s the only one in the state and the last time I went there were eighty people there. There were close to thirty million people in the state before the plague. Think about that.”

  “I have to go,” she repeated.

  “Okay, if your parents aren’t alive, meet me at the trading post. I usually go every week. If I can’t make it, someone from our group will be there around noon.”

  The group fell silent and quietly finished their meals. It was getting dark and Erin disappeared into the basement and came back with two kerosene lanterns, a camping light, and two flashlights. Haley and Elle cleared the table and washed the dishes in a pail of water sitting on the countertop. Haley wasn’t quite sure why they were doing it, since they were leaving in the morning; but leaving a pile of dirty dishes in the sink just seemed wrong. They both went to bed after doing the dishes.

  “We can get Mia ready in the morning,” Erin said.

  “Don’t encourage her,” Sarge grumbled. Mia and Jenna left for a bedroom where they would share the bed. Elle also went to bed. Sarge, Stryker, and Erin remained at the table, bathed in the glow from the lantern.

  “We can get her geared up in the morning and find another car somewhere around here,” Stryker said.

  “You could have tried harder,” Erin sighed.

  “Erin, he did try,” Sarge said. “But you’re talking to two men who willingly ordered their best friends into combat knowing some of them were going to die. She apparently has a death wish, and how much time and effort should we expend to try to convince her not to do something so stunningly stupid? We can’t force her
to come with us. Quite frankly, if she’s that dumb or stubborn, or whatever, she probably would be a liability.” Erin fell silent.

  “Ease up, Sarge. She’s been through a lot.”

  “We need to see what’s in the basement tomorrow before we go. There might be stuff we could use,” Erin said quietly.

  “All right. I’m going to bed.” Sarge got up and left. Erin went to the basement. and came back up with two sleeping bags.

  “I got the floor and you can take the couch,” she announced.

  “No, I got the floor.”

  “I saw that zipper scar up your spine when you were cleaning up. You must have a bad back, so take the couch.”

  “I sleep better on a hard surface. It’s better for me to be on the floor.”

  “You sure?” she asked doubtfully.

  “Yes.” Stryker stripped down to his shorts and got into the bag beside the couch, laying his M-4 to his side. Erin covered herself with the sleeping bag, still fully clothed. Stryker tuned the lamp off and rolled over, exhausted and ready to sleep.

  “Stryker?” Erin asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s your first name? I asked grandpa, but he didn’t know.”

  “I don’t use my first name.”

  “Would you tell me?” She waited.

  “Caleb.”

  “That’s a nice name.”

  “Go to sleep,” he grunted. “We have an early day tomorrow.”

  Erin woke later and gazed down at the slab of a man who lay snoring below her. He was outlined by moonlight that spilled in through the living room window. She had seen a soft, nice side of the man when he wanted to make sure the women had clothes so they wouldn’t be embarrassed, as well as a brutal man who didn’t follow conventional rules of behavior. He certainly wasn’t what she would call attractive. His lantern jaw and sloping forehead made him look almost like a cave man; but the washed-out blue eyes burned with an intelligence she had never seen before. When he was bathing in the back yard, she noticed that his arms, with fingers extended, reached almost to his kneecaps, giving him an almost Simian appearance.

  She had the usual boyfriends: young, anxious men, some of whom showered her with affection. But this man confused her. He had come to rescue them when her grandfather asked him to help. He asked for no thanks for doing so. He risked his life to save her sister and the other women and treated it like a day on a routine job. She fell back into the couch and wondered what sort of man he really was.

  Stryker heard a rustling sound from the couch, then felt her eyes on him. He thought about how well she proved herself in the battle, and how she defied them by coming back with the M-40 and taking part in the fight. She was not hard to look at and seemed to be smart. He pushed the thought down and away. It was too soon after his wife and daughter’s death. He thought some more about it.

  “I know you’re awake and wondering about me. You can just ask me anything, whenever you want. All I can promise is to be honest.” Erin remained mute, shocked that the man knew she was watching and that she was wondering about him. She rolled to her other side and closed her eyes.

  Sarge and Stryker stood on the porch of the house drinking coffee taken from the basement. They were the first to wake and enjoyed the morning drink in a prolonged silence as the sun glanced over the horizon to the east. Stryker often wondered why he knew so few people who enjoyed the idea of not having to fill the air with words, mostly meaningless ones, when in the company of another person.

  “Guess we need to gear up Mia when she gets up,” Stryker said.

  “We can spare an AR and one of the Glocks.”

  “We’ll need to find a vehicle and give her some food and water. I found an atlas in the basement this morning when I went for the coffee. That will help some.”

  “You think she should take back roads?” Sarge asked.

  “I don’t know. I can see advantages to both. We got here petty fast by taking the interstate and going around larger cities. I think she would be less likely to encounter an ambush. It’s pretty hard to hit a target going eighty miles an hour. When I traveled from Pendleton to the ranch, I only saw five or six people along the interstate. Besides, the trouble the women had happened because they were a static target.”

  “Same with me,” Sarge replied. “When I came to the ranch, I was on interstate most of the way.” The men both grew silent, considering the odds.

  “You going to check her out with the weapons?”

  “I better. Having a permit doesn’t guarantee she either shoots well or knows how to safely handle one.”

  “I’ll check out the basement with Erin while you do that. Then we can head toward town and see what kind of vehicle we can find. I have jumper cables in the rear of the truck cab, so we should be able to get something running.”

  “Morning,” Haley said as she passed through the screen door. “Did everybody sleep well?”

  Both men nodded and continued to sip their coffee. Five minutes later, the entire group was up and a second pot was brewing. Erin glanced at Stryker and saw his expression was no different from yesterday. It was as though he hadn’t said anything the previous evening, and that confused her. She looked away and started chatting with Elle and Jenna.

  “No offence,” Haley said, “but we all smell pretty ripe and are going to be riding together all day. There’s a bucket by the well out back and some soap and towels. I’m going to head back there and bathe, then try to find some fresh clothes in the house.”

  “There’s a garbage bag full of clean clothes in the back of the pickup,” Erin said. “I’ll get it and leave it on the back porch.” She disappeared after setting her mug on the table. An hour later, everyone was clean with fresh clothes except Stryker. Nothing in the house fit him, so he put his clothes back on after throwing his underwear away. He was going commando, but it was better than wearing shorts he had on for close to three days. They ate crackers and peanut butter from the basement and drank more coffee.

  Sarge got up, walked in the house, and returned with an AR and a holstered Glock. “Mia, let’s give you a weapons check before we leave.” The two walked around the side of the house.

  “Let’s check out the basement and see what we want to bring along,” Stryker said. “Who will stay up here and keep an eye on things?”

  “Elle and I can stay,” Jenna volunteered.

  Stryker, Erin, and Haley went into the house and down the stairs. There was faint light coming in through the basement window, but Stryker grabbed a flashlight from a workbench and inspected the first room. It was stacked high with unlabeled boxes and a mound of bottled water sat against one wall.

  “This person must have been a prepper or he had time to clean out a Walmart before he died,” Stryker said. He moved into the next room, ducking his head to clear the door header, and pointed the flashlight around. He heard the bark of the AR from outside and the back of the house, then opened drawers on an old dresser. The drawers were full of vegetable seeds, fruit tree seeds, and other fruit like strawberries and melons. Several more shots rang out.

  “See if you can find a bag and load this stuff up,” he said, and moved further into the room. He didn’t know a thing about gardening and never put one in at the ranch, but decided that fresh vegetables and fruit would be welcome for their diets.

  Haley went up the stairs, returned with a garbage bag, and started filling it. Stryker found three five-gallon gas cans and a foot-operated siphon pump and hose. He stuffed the pump into the bag as well. In the far corner of the room stood a propane camp stove and spare bottles. He handed them to Erin and asked her to take them upstairs. She scampered up the stairs and returned shortly.

  They returned to the first room, satisfied they had covered the second one well enough to find anything of value. The ladies began lifting boxes down and going through them. They all contained dry and canned food.

  “What should we take?” Haley asked.

  “Just enough to fill the rear of the J
eep. The truck is already full. Take whatever you like best, and we need a case of water per vehicle.” Stryker began sorting through bags and cans and piled up beef stew, soup, canned chicken, and tuna. The women’s pile was more canned fruit and vegetables, and a case of ramen noodles. They took turns hauling newly packed boxes up the stairs and set them by the front door.

  “Shouldn’t we take more?” Haley asked.

  “You can find this stuff all over the place.”

  “There’s no food shortages?”

  “There’s no people to eat the food. There’s probably enough food in stores, warehouse, and trucks to feed generations of whoever is left, presuming it doesn’t spoil.” Her face blanched as she realized the implication of what Stryker had said. “We need to know what it’s like out there.”

  “You heard my speech to Mia. There’s a whole lot of nothing out there, and the occasional threat. We can talk more about this later. Right now we need to get Mia on the road and do the same.”

  Sarge and Mia rounded the corner as Stryker exited the house. He waited for them to get to the porch, then looked at Sarge with a question mark in his eyes.

  “She’s good to go,” Sarge reported.

  “We need to find a car or truck for her.”

  “No time like the present. Mia, get the other AR and give it to Erin. You guys keep watch until we return. Okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Should we take the Jeep?” Stryker asked.

  “Might as well.” Stryker threw the jumper cables from the truck into the back seat and the two men left with their M-4 barrels sticking out the windows. Sarge drove.

  “Let’s head back toward town and see what we can find.” The two men searched several streets in a residential area close to the ranch and finally stumbled on a late model Camaro, painted matte black.

  “Looks like it could do the job. That thing will disappear at night. You won’t be able to see it from 100 meters,” Sarge said.