by Angela White
5S
Need medicine!
8S
Missing! Ashley Simmons
Black hair, 5’3
Needs medication!
Zack increased their speed so that reading the notes was harder. In the UPV behind them, those pushing the buttons captured another of the tragic effects of the war. This city had clearly tried to keep itself together and succeeded in avoiding the looting and arson that most places had dealt with, but it hadn’t mattered. They’d gotten no help. And the smell was identifiable now. It was the dead, their rotting slowed by the dampness of both nearby rivers and barricaded basements. Adrian wouldn’t sleep for days after he viewed these pictures.
Zack began driving erratically so that the images wouldn’t be as clear.
Behind the airport, the city of Wichita groaned and creaked in neglected decline, lower areas now marshy swamps only fit for reptiles. In them, pythons had already begun to spawn unchecked. Moving up from the south in search of food, these snakes took over each waterway as they progressed, leaving eggs.
“This is a Safe Haven mission team. We are a convoy of Red Cross survivors picking up refugees. Is anyone out there?” Allan had to try.
“No way, man. It’s been six months.”
“Hello? This is Safe Haven. Can anyone hear me?”
Zack didn’t protest again. If it comforted him to try, what would it hurt? They were packing enough heat to take over a neighboring land, and this place was a ghost town–
“Help us!”
The shout was faint but clear enough to transmit over all the radios on their channel.
“We’re out, but they’re coming!”
They waited only a few more seconds before Neil’s ecstatic voice came over the radio.
“Help is on the way! Keep transmitting if you can.”
Finding the hostages at the boarding school would make up for what they were seeing. Allan was glad the kids the men had tried to sell to Safe Haven were here and alive (there was no mistaking the youth in those shouts) but the thought of going into a ghost town still wasn’t sitting well with him. Allan didn’t consider himself superstitious, but then, he hadn’t considered himself a hired killer either, and that’s exactly what he’d become. Adrian had bought his loyalty with confidence and power, and Allan was grateful he’d had the good sense to agree.
Zack spotted the grungy planes and trucks lined up across from them and headed his team that way. The abandoned feeling was prevalent, but the Eagle didn’t let his guard down as he scanned the windows and doors of the terminal. There was no damage other than nature, no signs that anyone had been here since the war. Even to hardened men, it was eerie.
Zack felt his training kick into gear as he pulled the ugly green Bronco to a stop in front of the first fuel truck. “Let’s get it done and get home.”
Eagles spilled out, and Zack joined them with the mantle of leadership firmly in hand. He’d gone from a driver to a leader. The feeling was everything he had hoped it would be while laboring under Kenn. He would never go back.
5
In the library parking lot, the third mission team quickly secured the area, noticing signs, both good and bad.
Angela’s hand slid to the Python that for right now, had a place on her left side. She wasn’t picking anything up. Instead of the past fear and urge to hide, she advanced eagerly when Marc motioned everyone out.
Eyeing the boot shaped bruise on Marc’s forearm, Angela followed. He’d fared better than most of the others in the cage when it came to marks, but it bothered her to see him wince as he stepped from their vehicle. He’d accepted the Advil and refused the painkiller, and she knew he was extremely sore. That was the condition of half the mission teams, but it wasn’t a hindrance. The bruises and wounds were their badges of honor. She understood because she had her own.
The library stank.
It was bad enough to make Eagles gag as they moved through the dusty bookshelves, clearing each room and level. As they headed downstairs, the stench grew worse.
Marc held them just above the bottom floor, using his hands to keep from talking and having to use his nose to breathe. We go on three and brace. Smells like dead.
Except, Angela thought it was more like mildew and feces. Either way, it was unlikely there were survivors.
One… Two… Go!
The first team moved down the stairs at a run, with the second (Angela and the rookies) behind them. She ran down the stairs, lights glaring from all directions as she hit the carpeted bottom and found herself listening to the faint sound of something they were all familiar with. Barking dogs might mean they’d been wrong to assume there were no survivors down here.
Marc waved Angela’s team back as he went to the only door into the single room.
Following his training, they put her in the middle of their tight circle.
Marc flashed a signal, stomach rolling as breathing through his mouth no longer kept out that sickening odor. Ready?
Enough positive motions between gagging had him yanking the door open... Marc lifted his gun as shadows darted for their legs.
“Hold your fire!” Marc choked out as the rot hit him square in the nose and twisted him into a gagging, puking machine that only let up when he made it back outside and covered his head with his jacket. Bodies would have been easier on him. He’d been ready for that.
6
Angela handed out the medical salve from her bag, motioning for Jax, who was grimacing under that split lip, to follow Marc.
The basement was alive with growling, wiggling, barking shadows that the Eagles carefully waded through as they hung lanterns from the rafters. The sound of vomiting was almost as loud as the dogs, and Angela was grateful for her cast-iron stomach.
The library team had found a large basement full of dogs. Thanks to bags of food and an intentionally dug watering ditch they traced to a nearby creek, a surprising number of the animals were still alive. Angela hadn’t picked it up because they weren’t a threat.
Angela watched the Eagles play with a few of the calmer dogs they’d culled from the stench-ridden room. The animals were shivering and shaking with joy, pissing all over the place, and drawing loud chuckles from these hard men. Angela found herself absorbing the good moment. She’d been braced for another awful city, and it was wonderful to have this instead. Even the deaths of the weaker dogs wouldn’t dull it for her. She often forgot what it had been like to live in a calm world that delivered good things. Since the war, she always expected the worst, and Wichita would last in her heart for a while as a balm.
“They tried to save their pets,” she stated.
Quinn nodded, ears hurting and stomach twisting violently. He gently nudged his team leader’s woman toward the stairs, sure that viewing the small corpses wouldn’t help her sleep much more than human ones would have.
“Let’s get the rest of what we came for, gentlemen,” he instructed. “Marc says we’ll take the mutts with us.”
The others got to their feet, and Angela went upstairs to supervise there when Quinn motioned for her to. It had been a good trip for them. She hoped the others were doing as well.
7
Bang! bang!
“I’m pinned!” Shawn shouted, ducking behind a wide tree with a trim of dead roses.
Neil fired at the truck trying to leave, hitting a windshield.
The glass fractured and he fired again.
The window shattered this time and the driver jerked at the impact.
The prison transport truck swerved to the left and ran into a burnt security car by the gate. The impact sent the truck flipping into the brick wall, throwing debris in all directions.
Smoke and steam rolled upward as Neil ran toward the traders who ran from the transport wagon. He didn’t bother demanding surrender. That world was gone.
No longer pinned down, Shawn joined Neil in the chase.
“There’s another one!” Greg warned, trying to get closer through the sporadi
c return-fire from the traders. They’d already disabled two jeeps with armed riders.
Neil and Shawn spun around to see a third jeep flying towards them, guns on the front glinting in the dim sun.
“Take cover!” Neil shouted as he and Shawn dove behind the brick divider next to the gate.
Wack! Wack! Wack! Wack!
A fourth jeep flew up the grassy hill behind them.
Trapped! The traders had been prepared.
Neil hit his emergency radio as he dumped his spent rounds. “We need backup! Automatic weapons, five mobile targets!”
Only the mission teams inside the city were close enough to hear through the limited radios.
“Half hour,” Zack responded first, grimacing at the fuel odor on his hands.
Marc’s team was deep into loading the dogs and books and responded with, “Fifteen.”
“On the way!” Seth’s voice was eager. “Where?”
Wack! Wack! Wack!
Greg fired from nearby, hoping to hit any of the four vehicles now bunched together as they came in for a sweep.
Kablammm!
Two trucks exploded with the grenade and the other vehicles split up, realizing their mistake.
Out of grenades, Neil ducked lower as debris rained over the battlefield. “Just follow the noise.”
8
Jeremy grabbed Samantha’s arm and shoved her toward the tanker. “Ride back with the water.”
Sam jerked away, drawn to the sound of the explosions. They weren’t far from Neil and that was where she wanted to be. “I’m going.”
Jeremy didn’t have time to argue. He shoved her toward his ride, growling, “You follow orders or I’ll tell Adrian!”
Samantha smirked, sliding into the passenger seat of his sporty white Jeepster. If he really thought that would keep her in line, he was crazy.
Jeremy felt the sense of dread he’d experienced at the rest stop and made a quick choice that she would hate. He didn’t want to deny Sam the opportunity to feel like an Eagle, but this was a gunfight and she wasn’t ready.
Samantha didn’t speak until the battle scene came into view, heart thumping at the sight of the armed jeeps and trucks circling the pinned-down team at the entrance to the boarding school.
“What should I do?” she asked as Seth drove behind a tall brick wall that lined a gated community.
Jeremy stopped well behind Seth’s team, killing the engine. “Stay here.”
Sam scowled, shaking her head. “I’m good with a gun. I can–”
“No time to argue, baby.” Jeremy grabbed her wrist with one hand and his cuffs with the other.
“Hey! No, don’t!”
Jeremy snapped the metal into place and shoved it over the steering wheel before she recovered from the surprise.
Click!
“You son of a...”
Jeremy quickly got out of range of her fury, barely missing being kicked in the balls.
“I’ll make you pay for this!” Samantha snarled. She was so pissed, she was crying.
Jeremy slammed the door in her face and went to join Seth’s team. They would hit hard and quick, and he wouldn’t worry about Samantha.
The second the door closed, Samantha began digging in her pocket with her free hand. After being held this way by Rick while he hurt Becky, she’d sworn she would never be in this position again.
Sam clutched the hairpin in a tight grip and started working it around in the hole.
Gunfire echoed loudly as she struggled, hard, flat pops of death.
9
Seth waved everyone forward, gun in hand. This was the best part of his new life. Not the action or the rush, but the legal killing.
“Fire!” Seth’s hoarse order echoed.
“Fire!” Jeff shouted, careful aim already locked onto the circling jeep with the machine gun. The grenade launcher in his hands lurched, belching out a perfect shot.
The first jeep exploded in a splintering ball of flame and smoke, and Jeff switched his aim to the closest truck.
Kablamm!
The other jeep of traders rolled their way, and Neil’s men were able to fire at it now that they were no longer pinned down by the machine gun’s rapid shots.
Seth’s men fell into that dangerous V as Neil’s team did the same. Watching their line of fire, two full teams of Eagles emptied their guns into the remaining vehicles from both sides.
It was over soon after the call for assistance came. One Eagle team was dangerous. Two was lethal.
“Where are the hostages?” Seth asked, reloading as Jeff and Shawn moved through the bodies. He normally would have had a lot more to say, but it hurt to talk. The quarter-shaped blood bruise on his windpipe was a constant reminder to everyone who saw it–Marc wasn’t to be challenged without a death wish. He’d taken that slot from Doug.
“Back of the transport truck. Greg’s working on the door,” Neil answered.
Seth went to help.
Neil did a quick sweep, hating the openness of this area, but also grateful for it. With a little more cover, the traders might have been more successful with their ambush.
When their other men hadn’t come back, these few had assumed them to be dead and packed up. If Neil’s team had come an hour later, they would have been gone.
Neil saw Jeremy gathering guns and ammo. “What’s the count?”
Jeremy shrugged, shoving guns into a burlap sack. “About fifteen usable. No ammo other than what we might pull from the machine guns.”
Neil nodded. “Water run go okay?”
Jeremy stood up, leaving the bag for when they loaded it all up. “We’ll be off rations by morning.”
Neil grinned. “Guess Samantha didn’t like not being allowed to come along. She’s with the water, right?”
Jeremy didn’t answer.
The silence made Neil frown. “Right?”
Jeremy shook his head, voice casual. “No, she’s uh, handcuffed to the steering wheel of my jeep.”
Jeremy pointed to the barely visible Hurst edition. It was too far away to see her shadow, but waves of anger hit them clearly.
Neil stared. “You are in deep shit, my friend.”
“Nah,” Jeremy smiled uneasily, looking at the fist-shaped bruise in the center of Neil’s forehead. “She’ll yell for a minute and then realize I didn’t have a choice.”
Neil’s brow went up. “Do you think so?”
“Well, maybe.” Jeremy became defensive. “She refused to stay in the jeep!”
“Did you think she would?” Neil scoffed, motioning for Greg to load up and get rolling as soon as possible.
“No, that’s why I cuffed her.”
“So, it was premeditated. Another mark against you,” Neil stated, walking that way. He wasn’t sure there would still be a steering wheel when they got there, but he didn’t tell Jeremy that.
“It’s rare, right?” Neil asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Jeremy nodded, grinning. “I’ve wanted one since I was ten. They only made about a hundred of them. Even found a way to modify it for my cd player.”
“Uh-huh.” Neil was still staring at the jeep, almost convinced he’d seen a glint of movement–shiny movement. “And she knows that, right?”
Jeremy nodded again, chuckling. “Yeah, she said I might be in love with it instead of...” Jeremy got the point all at once. “She wouldn’t!”
Neil clapped his XO on the shoulder. “Did you tell her it even has the original T-handle shifter?”
Jeremy’s third nod was the slow motion of impending doom. He’d told everyone who would listen and even a few who wouldn’t. “Yes.”
Neil got them moving, trying to be sympathetic. “Vehicles aren’t as important to women. Maybe she won’t remember.”
10
Crash!
That sound had the two men running.
Crash!
Neil rounded the edge of the wall first and came to a screeching halt as he took in the situation.
The jee
p looked like it had been in the center of their battlefield. All but two of the windows were sporting large, jagged holes in the centers and glass shards littered the ground all around the jeep. The hood glinted as if it was covered in diamonds and on the ground in front of the Jeepster, was a broken T-handled shifter.
“Uh, I think she remembered,” Neil choked out, trying not to snicker.
Crash!
A thick boot heel shot through the passenger wing window, leaving only the back glass intact as a fresh rainbow of shards scattered.
“Shit.” Jeremy sounded like he’d been punched. “Maybe she can’t twist enough to–”
Thud! Thud! Crash!
Jeremy grunted in shock. “My jeep!”
Neil clapped him on the shoulder again. “She’s out of windows. I wouldn’t leave her cuffed much longer or that radio you might lose that CD–”
Grind...rippp!
The radio came flying through the boot-hole in the windshield, catching more glass and sending debris to the ground.
“Oh. Too late.” Laughing, Neil turned back toward the boarding school, where the teams were set to roll. “Let me know how it goes.”
Jeremy stared at the furious blue eyes glowering through the damage, warning him that she wasn’t satisfied yet. “Coward.”
“Yep.” Neil chuckled. “Gotta tell ya. I’d rather face that machine gun again. Good luck.”
Riippppp!
Jeremy watched a brand new sun visor join the radio. Why had he thought Samantha needed protecting? They could have turned her loose on the traders and saved the grenades.
Jeremy moved closer, carefully.
“Hey, Samantha.” He grimaced before he said it. “Are you still mad?”
Thud! Craaccckkk!
The steering wheel, wires flapping, landed at his feet.
“Uh. Yeah, okay. I understand.” Jeremy held up the keys to the cuffs. “If I let you out, will you be nice?”
He winced at the next sounds that came from his cherished jeep. He had spent weeks modifying it and if he had to guess, he’d say that was the glovebox and the cup holders.
