The Ark Series (Book 3): The Ark of Alliance

by Kotrous, Scott

  Peter hesitates for a second, but then says, “That’s right. We’re a team now. Each and every one of us.” He looks around at everyone. “From this day forward, we’ll all watch each other’s backs; we’ll all take care of each other, no matter what.”

  Everyone in the room nods their heads and smiles. John goes over and reaches out his hand, which Peter shakes. “Well said, Peter. Well said.”

  Peter nods his head and then lets go of his hand. “Sir, I think we should all get some rest before making the trip into your bomb shelter. At least for a few hours.”

  John looks at everyone in the room and then at Peter. “I think that’s a great idea. But don’t ever call me sir. It’s just John. Okay?”

  “Absolutely.” He smiles and then turns and finds a spot against the wall to lay his gear down.

  After finishing their soup, everyone settles in for the night. Only a couple crew members stay awake to care for the injured and sick, but they soon fall asleep with the rest of them.

  Chapter 5

  Jason lumbers through the waist high wet snow with unwavering determination. He looks back at Dave and notices he’s trailed off a bit and is now about five yards back. He tries not to let it bother him, but the possibility of military personnel coming after them puts a sense of urgency in him. Even though the gunfire dissipated shortly after they got further into the trees, Jason still doesn’t want to take the chance of someone catching up if they are, in fact, being followed.

  He looks back again, but this time Dave’s dropped back roughly ten yards and it forces him to stop and wait. Dave quickly catches up and stops right in front of him.

  “Alright, dipshit. Give me the fuckin’ rifle, ’cause it’s obviously slowin’ you down.” Jason reaches out his arm and waits for the rifle.

  Dave looks at him befuddled and jerks his head back. “What? Not a chance, fuckface!”

  “Give me the fuckin’ rifle before I have to kick your ass and take it from you. Military personnel could be right behind us and we need to move faster. Now give me the goddamned rifle so we can move at a faster pace.”

  Dave pulls the rifle further up on his shoulder and smirks. “There’s no one behind us, ’cause I’ve been checking the entire time, ass-wipe. They’ve got bigger problems on their hands . . . like fightin’ off the fuckin’ Infected, asshole.”

  Jason grits his teeth and cocks his head to the side to crack his neck. “I’m not gonna ask again . . . give me the fuckin’ rifle or you’re gonna get your ass kicked, you little piece of shit.” He puffs up his chest, crosses his arms, and stares at him.

  Dave just laughs as his smile grows even bigger. “Well, then, come and get it fuck-tard, ’cause I ain’t givin’ up shit. So you’re gonna—”

  Jason swings at his brother, connecting squarely on his jaw, forcing him to fall backward into the snow. Dave tries to get right back up, but he staggers and falls to one side with the snow keeping him upright. He shakes his head and checks his jaw before spitting out some blood.

  Jason moves around trying to pack down some snow in an attempt to make a better platform to stand on. His brother eventually steadies himself and drops the rifle in the snow, then cracks his knuckles. “You just made a big mistake, big brother. I’ve been waiting to kick your ass for a long time now, so thanks for the excuse.”

  Jason puts up his fists and gets in a fighting stance. “Bring it on, you fucking worthless piece of—”

  Before he can finish, Dave lunges at him and tackles him into the snow, but is immediately met with an elbow to his back . . . followed by another . . . and then another.

  “Is that all you got, you little piece of shit? It’s almost like when I used to kick your ass when we were growing up!”

  He lands another elbow right on Dave’s spine and it forces him to loosen his grip around his waist. Jason is then able to somehow plant a knee right to the gut, and Dave backs away.

  “You were always weak, and that’s why you never made it as a Seal. That’s why you’ll never make it in life . . . once a failure, always a failure! But I’m sure you already know that, you lying, no good piece of trash!”

  Dave stands up right as Jason swings again, but this time he’s ready for it and he’s able to dodge the blow. Dave awkwardly maneuvers around him and plants a fist into his ribs and then another to the stomach. He hears Jason exhale as if he knocked the wind out of him. Jason falls to one knee and turns his head and is met with a punch to the temple that takes him to the snow-packed ground. Jason blocks his next punch and then springs up and lands a knee into his stomach twice before Dave’s able to grab his leg and pick him up, sending them backwards. Dave gets on top of him and starts pounding his face like a UFC fighter, and Jason can only attempt to block his blows.

  “Fuck you, you fuckin’ asshole . . . I fucking hate you!” He relentlessly continues to pound his brother’s face, blood spurting everywhere. He finally stops punching Jason’s head and then puts his hands around his brother’s throat and begins to squeeze. “I fucking hate you so fucking much, and I’m not going to take anymore of your shit!”

  Jason gasps for air, but his dazed state of mind doesn’t leave him with much strength to grab his brother’s arms in desperation as he attempts to pull them off. Fear starts to take over when his brother doesn’t let go and so he’s forced to kick him in the balls twice before Dave finally lets go and gets off.

  Jason reaches for the rifle, picks it up out of the snow, and points it at his brother. “The fuck are you doin’! Are you fuckin’ tryin’ to kill me, you fuckin’ piece of shit? What the fuck!”

  Dave gets out of the snow, crawls on his hands and knees over to his brother, and puts his head against the barrel of the gun. “Fucking do it! Just fucking do it!” He grabs the barrel and presses it harder into his forehead. “Pull the fucking trigger, you fuckin’ coward! Just do it so I don’t have to do it myself!” He spits blood while his brother stands over him with blood pouring off his face.

  Jason breathes heavily while he spits out more and more blood that doesn’t seem to stop. He then pushes his brother back using the barrel of the gun. “What the fuck is wrong with you! You’re gonna kill yourself now? Is that what kind of a weak pussy you’ve turned into, huh? Is that what you’ve become?”

  Dave sits down in the snow and looks as if he’s about to cry, and then just drops his head and puts his hands on his head. “You don’t know me, bro. You haven’t known me for years, and you have no idea how much shit I’ve been through. So don’t act like you give a shit, ’cause I know you don’t.”

  “The fuck’re you talkin’ ‘bout, I don’t know you? You were living in my house before this shit went down, so what the fuck?”

  “Don’t pretend like you give a fuck, ’cause if you did, you’d have noticed how fucked up I was when I was living with you . . . and how this fucking apocalypse or whatever you call it probably saved my life. ’Cause if it wasn’t for this, I’d probably be dead by now.”

  Jason lets go of the rifle and drops to the ground just a few feet from his brother. He puts his arms on his knees and shakes his head. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about . . . were you gonna fucking kill yourself, dude? Like, what the fuck!?”

  Dave shakes his head and hesitates for a moment. So Jason asks again, “Dude, answer me . . . were you gonna kill—”

  “Yes, alright . . . are you fuckin’ happy . . . yes, I was gonna blow my fuckin’ brains out!” He looks at Jason briefly before dropping his head back in between his knees.

  Jason looks away and just shakes his head and then turns back to his brother. “Why would you do that to yourself? You seemed happy when you were around Kelly and me. Why would that thought ever cross your mind?”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore, man . . . we’re all goin’ to be dead soon, so what difference does it make?”

  “Was it because you washed outta Seal school? Is that what made you want to take your own fucking life?”

  Dave exhales loudly an
d spits a little more blood out while shaking his head. “I didn’t wash out of Seal school, you fucking asshole. I blew out my knee and was put on Oxycodone that turned me into a fuckin’ heroin addict when the doctors took away the Oxy. I was so high all the time that I may have appeared happy to you on the outside, but all along I was dying inside bit by bit everyday. And so I decided that life wasn’t worth living anymore. I came to live with you guys for a bit to spend time with you before I put my Glock in my mouth and ate a bullet.” He lowers his head to his chest. “That was pretty much the plan.”

  Jason wipes a handful of blood off his face and flings it on the ground, then puts his hand on his forehead. “What the fuck, dude? I’m your fucking brother. Why didn’t you say anything? I could have gotten you help. Why would you even consider suicide as a solution to your problems?”

  Dave slowly raises his head up to make slight eye contact. “Like you would have given a shit, bro . . . you were too caught up in your own life to care about anyone but yourself or your wife. So don’t give me—”

  “Not give a shit . . . you’re my fucking brother. Of course I give a shit!”

  “Don’t gimme that bullshit that you care, because you’re just like the rest of this narcissistic world that doesn’t care about anyone but themselves! You’re too caught up chasing that almighty dollar while living in your perfect little house with your white picket fence and your perfect little wife to stop for a second and look around you! Because if you did, you would have realized that people are suffering out there, man . . . and no one gives a fuck!”

  “Don’t blame other people for wanting to make a better life for themselves or for you becoming a drug addict . . . that was your fault!”

  “My fault? My fault! Those fucking doctors get you hooked on what’s basically prescription heroin and then take it away . . . and so then to satisfy that addiction we turn to actual heroin to ease the pain.” Dave sharply turns toward his brother. “Did you know that three outta four heroin addicts start from prescription pain medication addiction? Three out of four fucking people! Oh, but I guess it’s my fault that I blew my knee out and the doctors put me on that shit! Why isn’t it the doctors’ fault or the drug manufacturers’ fault, huh? Like I said, bro, you have no idea what it’s really like out there or how fucked up this country is because so many fucking people, if not everyone, is addicted to some form of drug. Whether legal or illegal, we’re all addicted to something . . . but maybe it’s just a coincidence. That’s all, right?”

  Jason takes a second to think while Dave stares at him, but he can’t come up with a good response. He’s never had to deal with anything like this before and just can’t believe something like that could happen to someone he loves, and right under his own roof. He starts to feel ashamed that he never noticed anything wrong. “I’m sorry that things got so bad for you and that I didn’t take the time to realize what kind of dire straits you were in . . . if I had, you know that not only I, but Kelly as well, would have done anything to help you. You’re my only brother and, besides Kelly, my only family left. I just wish you had said something at the time so we could have gotten you help . . . Not to mention, you didn’t, or haven’t, looked like a drug addict. Like, how did you hide it so well?”

  “I had been slowly weaning myself off the shit for a long time using methadone and Narcan. And anytime I felt withdrawal symptoms come on, I would just remove myself from the group so no one would have any idea. But like I said, no one gave a fuck about anyone but themselves before the apocalypse . . . and we wonder why this world fell apart. None of us took the time to help out our fellow man or look out for each other, and so now we’re being punished for it.”

  “Oh, Jesus Christ, you’re not getting all biblical on me, are you, bro? I thought you were smarter than that.”

  Dave looks up at his brother, shaking his head. “Biblical, no. Realizing that there are indeed consequences to our actions, or lack thereof, yes . . . absolutely, yes . . . See, this whole thing, this whole catastrophe made me change as a human being . . . or more like it forced me to change as a human being. Not only did this shit save my life, but it made me have an epiphany of sorts in the realization that, because we as a society did next to nothing to help out each other, this world . . . this life . . . our basic existence was taken away from us, snatched out right below our feet. So you can call me the dumb one for realizing that fact, but the truth is, we were the dumb ones, each and every one of us, for not thinking that there were definite consequences to our actions. We—”

  All of a sudden they hear some sticks cracking in the distance and then hear, “Don’t move a fucking muscle and you won’t get shot. And don’t even think about reaching for that rifle.”

  Chapter 6

  John violently awakens in the early morning from a rather vivid nightmare. His clothes are drenched in sweat and he’s incredibly uncomfortable. The room is very warm and, by the looks of it, someone was keeping the fire going throughout the night. He sits up, looks around the room, and notices Peter is the only one awake. He’s next to a window cleaning his gun while not making much noise at all. Everyone else is still sleeping and John figures it’s probably best they get as much sleep as possible, since no one has gotten a solid night sleep in days . . . and some in weeks.

  He quietly gets up off the ground, trying his best not to disturb anyone. Once up, he tiptoes in-between the bodies sprawled out around the room, luckily not disturbing anyone. He manages to get across the room without anyone waking up and makes his way over to Peter, who has already heard him coming and acknowledges him with a head nod.

  Dusty’s ears perk up as he sits up and whines when John gets close.

  “Hey, Peter. Is the dog gonna to be okay with me sitting down?”

  Peter looks at Dusty and then shrugs his shoulders. “Should be.”

  “Ah . . . okay? Well, good morning.” He pulls up a chair and sits next to Peter while Dusty lies back down.

  Peter continues to clean his gun and only gives a light head bob and a quick glance. “Morning, John. Did you sleep well?”

  John chuckles briefly and then smiles. “Ah . . . well . . . I guess I slept the best I could under the circumstances. Were you keeping the fire going all night? And did you get any sleep?”

  Peter sets the butt end of the rifle on the ground and props it up in between his legs, then wipes his hands with a different rag. “I hope you don’t mind, but I found some old looking rags under the sink and used them to clean my gun . . . I hope that’s cool?”

  “Oh course, Peter . . . Mi casa, su casa.” He looks around the room. “Actually, this isn’t my home . . . I have no idea whose house this is.” He purses his lips in an attempt not to smile.

  Peter looks around the room as well. “This isn’t your house . . . and you don’t know whose it is? . . . that’s kinda weird.”

  “That’s why I held back the smile . . . sounds kinda weird even to me. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question . . . or questions, actually.”

  “Oh right . . . ah, yeah . . . I kept the fire going, and I did get a couple hours of sleep, but that’s all I really need nowadays. For some reason three hours of sleep is like sleeping ten hours for me. But, hey, I have some MREs if you’re hungry for some breakfast.” He searches through his bag and pulls out a pack.

  John smiles while nodding his head. “Some nasty-ass MREs actually sound kinda good this morning.” He takes some from Peter and they both proceed to eat.

  Once John is finished, he looks behind him at everyone still sleeping and then turns back and looks at Peter. “Hey, these guys really need to get some more rest . . . why don’t you and I go ahead and make our way to the Ark and try to make contact? What do you say . . . you feel up for that?”

  Peter’s face lights up and his posture stiffens in his chair. “Absolutely! But do you think we’ll be able to get in this place? I mean, do you think the EMP or whatever took out the Havoc’s power did the same to the Ark?”

  Joh
n exhales and waits for a second before responding. “I honestly don’t know, Pete; your guess is as good as mine. But there’s only one way to find out . . . so what do ya say?”

  “Fuck yeah—ah . . . I mean, yes, sir. I’m good to go.”

  John laughs and then stands up. “Fuck yeah, works for me, dude . . . and please, like I’ve said before, don’t call me sir.”

  Peter’s face gets a little red and he looks only slightly embarrassed. “Oh . . . ah, sorry . . . my bad.”

  “No worries. Let’s just get goin’ and maybe we can make it back before everyone wakes up.”

  “Copy that, John. I’m locked and loaded and set to move out on your command.” He stands up, holding his rifle at attention.

  John looks at him with a furrowed brow. “Jesus Christ, kid. How old are you? Were you in the military or something?”

  Peter relaxes a bit, but still stands awkwardly at attention. “Ah . . . not quite. Just a very strict dad.”

  “Well, cool it, GI Joe . . . you’re in my house . . . well, someone’s house, but on my land, so you’re gonna live by my rules. And the first rule is to chill the fuck out on the soldier shit and take it down a notch. Okay?”

  “Copy that . . . I mean . . . sounds good. I’m ready to go when you are.”

  “Much better. Now let’s move out—”

  Suddenly they hear a low tone female voice coming from behind them. They turn around and see Maggie standing there with arms crossed. “Where are you guys going?”

  “Hey, good morning, sweetheart. How did you sleep?” John whispers and then walks over to give her a hug.

  She hugs her uncle and then crosses her arms again and looks at Peter and then back to John. “And you guys are going where?”

  “We wanted to let everyone sleep a couple more hours. So Pete here and I were going to go ahead to the Ark and try to make contact and hopefully be back before everyone woke up.”