Beginning of the New Beginning Vol 3

by W. Joe Taylor

  “What? I’m thirty-seven.”

  “What? Oh. No, what I meant was, where the fuck are you?”

  “We ran into a slight problem.”

  “How slight?”

  “Well, we lost the first dudes just around the block from you guys. But then we came across some other dudes that are following us now. As soon as we can, we will let you guys know we’re on our way back.”

  “That’s a good copy. Just don’t take all fucking day.”

  “Uh, shit. Ok, will do. Gotta go!”

  Bo set the radio down in the cup holder and turned the bus right onto Downing Street from Park Avenue. The street ahead was blocked with crashed cars, so he drove between a light pole and a tree. The right side of the bus scraped the small tree and pushed it over as Bo kept the accelerator pedal floored. The Right side of the bus continued to scrape tree branches all the way down the sidewalk. At the next intersection, Bo maneuvered the bus back onto Downing Street after he pushed a car out of the way. The plow was not designed for that kind of weight, and he watched it shift to the left considerably.

  He immediately pointed the nose of the bus towards a bus stop on the right side of the road and destroyed it in an impressive shower of glass.

  “Did you just drive through a bus stop with a bus?” Mike asked.

  “Yea, I don’t think the city will be using it anymore.”

  Bo continued forward at a forty-five-degree angle, away from Downing street, across a decorative gravel area. He ran over a tiny fir tree, across the adjoining parking lot, and over the next sidewalk, finally emerging directly in front of the main emergency room for the downtown area.

  “Jesus, fuck! What did I just get us into? Fuck. Hang on, guys.”

  There was an Army National Guard HMWWV blocking half the road. And there were a few others parked sporadically around. It looked like there had been a helluva fight here at the beginning. Bo could see brass casings coated the road, so many that it looked like the streets were paved with gold. The drop-off zone to the ER was bumper to bumper with cars and ambulances. There were thousands of bodies everywhere. The bus bounced up and down over many of those bodies. Bo navigated back onto the sidewalk on the right and pushed two more cars out of the way to make an entrance onto the next street leading away from the ER. He had a clear road ahead, and he shifted the bus into neutral, letting it coast. He revved the engine a few times while honking the horn again. He figured it had worked once before, so he would try it a second time. Thrillers emerged from all around them. Bo shifted back into drive and began to proceed forward again.

  The garage truck that had been following them for the last several blocks ran over Z’s and barely slowed down. Bo sped up to twenty miles an hour, still honking the horn repeatedly. He turned the bus left onto the next street, headed east back towards the other guys, and sped up more. He watched the plow shudder with each thriller they hit.

  “Guys, I don’t know how much more she can take. The plow isn’t going to last much longer.”

  “Ok, well, do the best you can, then. I’m sure the other guys have a backup plan of some sort. My brother especially,” said Phillip.

  The street they were on ended in a “T” intersection halfway between the last hospital and the apartment complex. In front of them was the city park that surrounded the zoo. The intersection was completely packed with stalled and crashed cars. Bo weaved left and clipped the front of a tow truck, and its push bumper snagged the bus’s plow and ripped it completely off. It made a screeching sound the whole way down the left side of the bus. He continued straight ahead and into the park that surrounded the zoo.

  A block and a half later, he entered the street that would take the bus back to the apartments. He picked up the CB and thumbed the volume all the way up.

  “Bill, are you there?”

  “Roger that. Continue your transmission.”

  “We’re coming in fast, man. I’ll be turning right onto Colorado by you. We haven’t seen our tail in a little while now, but I don’t know if they will catch up.”

  “Good copy. We’re ready.”

  Bo was going fifty-five, and he slammed on the brakes, sending everyone inside flying forward and then to the left side of the bus as he attempted to drift it around the corner. Later, Q would confirm that the right-side tires had been off the pavement when the bus had come into sight.

  The recon team jumped into the open door, and Bo slammed the gas pedal down before anyone had a chance to sit down.

  “Bo, you’re driving in a panic, man. What happened back there?” Cootch asked.

  “We lost the first guys and were about to come around the block and wait for you when this garbage truck came out of a side street and clipped the rear passenger side of the bus. He got us pretty good. That was only a minute before Bill called for a pickup.” Bo proceeded to fill them in on everything that had transpired after that.

  “We’re not out of the woods yet. The garbage man is back!” Shane hollered from the peep hole in the back door.

  “Well, fuck. Bo, I need you to lose this fucker. Just don’t kill us in the process,” Cootch said.

  “I’ll do my best, man. You guys better hang on good.”

  Bo sped up and raced south on Colorado Boulevard. He dodged cars left and right. On the sidewalk to the right, he ran over a small maple tree. Then he went all the way to the left and up on that sidewalk. The bus bounced and tossed everything inside back and forth. Then Bo was back in the right lane, and a block later, he sideswiped a large brown parcel delivery truck with the right side of the bus. The bus slowed considerably, with a loud screech of metal. He took out a decorative fence around an outside seating area to a local coffee shop.

  The business district gave way, and they entered into a residential neighborhood. The thriller population decreased, and the bus picked more speed. At the intersection of East Third Street, the bus plowed through two sedans. One had rear-ended the other, and Bo hit them with so much force the right one spun around and clipped the side of the bus. The fiberglass hood crumpled, and part of it flapped against the windshield a few times before it blew off. The garbage truck was falling back, but it continued its pursuit.

  Bo bounced the bus over the center median and into the left lane of Colorado Boulevard to avoid another blocked intersection. Three blocks later, the cityscape became an assortment of shopping centers, and thrillers were everywhere. Bo wasn’t trying to avoid them anymore. The bus was almost done for, so Bo saw no point in trying to keep it together.

  Eight blocks later, they passed a fire station with both bay doors wide open and the fire engines gone. Surrounding the fire station were hundreds of thrillers. Bo barreled into them going sixty miles an hour, and a few flew up and hit the windshield. Somewhere in the chaos, the intake scoop was ripped off the carburetors.

  Just before they went over the Interstate 25 overpass, Bill asked a question that had been bothering him for a while.

  “Why don’t we just shoot that fucking cocksucker through the back door?”

  “Because when Bo welded the plates on the back, he welded the door shut, and the peephole isn’t big enough to sight down the barrel,” Shane replied. “We tried that already, right after the guy hit us the first time.”

  “Ok, well, I’ve had enough of this fucking shit, and I’m putting a stop to it.”

  Bill opened his backpack and pulled out a couple of grenades.

  “What are going to do?” asked Shaun with a very concerned look on his face.

  “I’m going to open the top escape hatch and ruin that asshole’s day.”

  “Fuck my life,” said Cootch with his hands in the air. “Why didn’t we think of that sooner?”

  “I don’t know, man, fear maybe? We’ve been holding on for dear life for the last…ten minutes now,” replied Bill.

  Just then, Bo juked the bus to the left. Bill stumbled, dropping one of the grenades in the process. He straightened himself up, grabbed the ladder, and climbed up a couple o
f steps. He threw open the hatch and stepped up till his torso was halfway out. He looked behind him to see where they were going. Bo was in a right-turn-only lane, and the upcoming intersection was full cars stopped at the light. Bo bounced over the right curb, narrowly missing the traffic light pole on the left and an eighteen-wheeler on the right. Once the bus was stable again, Bill looked back at the garbage truck. Somehow, their pursuer had managed to close the gap.

  Bill pulled the pin on a grenade and lobbed it gently over the back of the bus. It hit the ground and rolled to Bill’s right, the garbage truck’s left. It exploded just as the garbage truck was next to it. The driver jerked the wheel to the right out of reflex, and the garbage truck bounced up onto the sidewalk and tipped over. Bill watched it in slow motion, and he could see the panic on the driver’s face. Bo continued to speed down Colorado Boulevard.

  Bill climbed back down and took his seat. “Bo. It’s ok now. Slow up a bit so we can get our bearings and figure out what’s next.”

  “It’s all right. I know where I am, but I need to know where to go,” Bo said, out of breath.

  “Cootch, you’re the only one that knows,” Bill said.

  “Let me look at this map. I used to get there from Highway 85. Her dad lives on the southwest side of the city, near a couple of lakes.”

  “That doesn’t sound too far from here,” said Bo over his right shoulder.

  Bill felt the bus bounce up onto the curb again, causing him to look out the windshield. Bo drove along the edge of yet another golf course, across a street, and then back onto Colorado Boulevard. The road became much narrower, dropping to one lane in each direction. It was then that Bill noticed several red lights on the dash were brightly illuminated.

  “Uh, Bo? What’s going on with the bus, man?”

  “She’s overheating. We lost oil pressure a few blocks ago, power steering a few blocks before that, and there is no air for the brakes. We’ve been running on one carburetor since the air scoop was ripped off, and the bad one has been pissing out gas since then. The good news is that when it does catch fire, there won’t be any gas left in the tank.”

  “Oh. Is that all?”

  “Nope, the road ends up ahead.”

  Cootch’s head snapped up, and he stared out the windshield as the bus ran over a yellow left-and-right-arrow sign and then burst through a wooden fence like the Kool-Aid man and out into a field. The engine finally seized. The rear tires locked up, and the bus began to slide sideways to the right. The right front tire caught on a gopher hole and spun the wheel out of Bo’s hands. The bus suddenly stopped and leaned heavily to the side. It paused about five degrees from the tipping point, and then started its descent back to the earth. It slammed down onto the wheels and bounced a couple of times.

  The men inside were thrown from side to side, but the tactical helmets prevented anyone from cracking their skull open. They all sat there in complete silence for a good ten seconds before Bo jumped up.

  “WOOOO! Let’s do that again! Man, what a rush!”

  The other seven men looked at each other before they all burst laughing.

  “Well, shit, boys, looks like we gotta get another ride. Sorry I ruined this one,” Bo said.

  “It’s all good, man. That was some good driving considering you just took at thirty-foot school bus though a fucking combat zone,” Q replied.

  They all collected their backpacks and guns and got ready to depart.

  “Bo, you can open the door now. We’re ready to go,” said Mike.

  “Um. It won’t.”

  “It won’t? Won’t what? Open?”

  “Yea, were going to have to go out the top and climb down.”

  Bill went first. He got his upper torso out again, scanned all the way around, and climbed the rest of the way out.

  “Ok, guys, it’s clear for now, but we have thrillers a few blocks back.”

  Shane was next one out. He crawled along the roof, towards the front. He was about to climb down the windshield, but he stopped.

  “We have another problem! The engine just caught fire.”

  “YOU’RE SHITTING ME!” Cootch yelled from inside.

  “Shane, lay on your stomach and slide off to the side,” Bill instructed.

  “Oh, man, I’m not a fan of heights.”

  “Well, tough titties. It’s either that or you become BBQ.”

  Cootch’s head popped out as Shane was lying on his stomach with his feet dangling off. Cootch climbed the rest of the way out and, without hesitation, made his departure from the roof. Three guys were on the ground before Shane finally got the balls to let go. Q and Mike helped him from falling all the way over. Thirty seconds later, all eight were on the ground and running away from the bus.

  Chapter 4. Montana.

  All five guys slept in the APC overnight, down by the dam. Bob was the first to wake up. The smell of body odor, morning breath, and flatulence hung thick in the confined space. He sat up, looked around, and then opened the back door to let in some fresh air. The morning sunlight streamed in with the cool, damp air. Bob stepped out and stretched. He breathed in the fresh, pine-scented mountain air that he loved so much about Montana. After he walked around to the side for his morning whiz, he heard the others inside begin to rise for the day. Once everyone was outside the APC and tending to their personal business, Bob reached in and grabbed his backpack out. He removed his tiny backpacking stove and a small aluminum pot. He then began to heat up water for some coffee. Danny got out an equally small stove and pot and started warming water for oatmeal.

  “What are you guys cooking?” Charles asked.

  “Oatmeal and coffee. You want some?” Danny replied.

  “GODDAMNIT! I’m fucking sick of oatmeal!” Vinny shouted.

  “Well, you don’t have to eat the fucking shit. I was just trying to be nice.”

  “You’re fucking right about that shit. I’ll just sit over here and eat beef jerky and Pop-Tarts.”

  “Cool. You sure you don’t want to trade a little?”

  “Fuck off.”

  Bob and Danny shared a glance that went unnoticed by the other three. They knew this would be discussed after they were alone again. Once the thermoses were topped off with coffee and the oatmeal had been eaten, Bob and Danny walked down by the lakeshore. They quietly rinsed off their cookware and stowed it away.

  “How fucking long is this shit going to take today?” Vinny demanded.

  Bob just looked over at him for a second, and then he put his headlamp on and tested it against his hand before switching it back off.

  “We don’t know till we get down there,” Bob replied. “So many variables, like how many Z’s we have to kill to get to the generators. How bad are the generators? How many circuits do we have to rewire because they got overloaded? Things like that.”

  “Well, fuck me.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Ha. Ha. I meant it sarcastically, you fucking dick.”

  “I guess someone woke up on the wrong side the armored personal carrier today.”

  “Yea, I did. So, what of it? Huh?”

  “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean anything by. Just trying to make conversation.”

  “I didn’t realize we were going be out here for two fucking days. The three of us are going to stay up here and keep an eye on things. So, don’t go getting yourselves killed down there.”

  “You got it, man. See you in a few hours.”

  Bob grabbed his backpack, slung it on, and then grabbed the small toolbox. Danny put on his toolbelt before his backpack.

  “Why are you guys taking your bags? You plan on leaving us out here?”

  “It gets cold down there so far under all that water,” Danny replied. He started laying it on real thick. “We packed lightweight jackets, plus the bags have our drinking water and snacks. If you want, we can leave them here and walk the ten minutes back to get a drink every thirty minutes. You want to go down there and help?”

  “What the fuck
ever, man. Just go.”

  Bob and Danny turned and walked away. They crossed to the other side of the dam and down the exterior stairway. Halfway down on the second landing, Danny slid a crescent wrench out of his tool bag and hit the steel door with it a few times. He put his ear against the door and waited for a good thirty seconds before he slid his key into the knob. He looked over at Bob, who nodded that he was ready. Danny opened the door, and Bob stepped in with his machete raised, ready to strike. Bob turned his head side to side in the narrow walkway to shine his headlamp around. Satisfied that nothing was in the immediate vicinity, he motioned Danny inside. They walked through the dam, weaving from hallway to hallway, until they got to the main control room.

  There were two Z’s that were easily dispatched. That was exactly what Danny had expected, but they were still being extra cautious.

  Danny had never worked the control room; he was a lineman and technician, not an engineer. He had spent a few hours hanging out and watching the guys that worked the controls, and he had a rough idea of how to turn the main power off and on. After a few minutes of messing around with the mainframe, he made sure that it was off. He looked at another monitor bank labeled “generators,” and it appeared that all three were offline because of the overload, but otherwise functional. All Danny had to do was disconnect the power distribution lines leading anywhere but Billings and bring the generators back online.

  “Well, that’s a good sign. Seems like it should be pretty easy, then. Let’s head down to the main switching room,” said Danny.

  “Hold up. How are those computers running if the generators are offline?”

  “Oh, there is a small generator that runs just this room for this very reason. It’s a backup to the backup. Normally, the grid would still supply power back here if the generators went down. But in a total loss like we have, the little feller switched over and runs the mainframe. We had to service it regularly too, and we always bitched that we would never need it.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did,” Bob said as he followed Danny back out into the hallway.