Hollering came from inside the room followed by a loud explosion.
“What was that?” Cal asked.
“That my friend is a flash bang or stun grenade,” Kyle laughed. “Where the hell did Eric get those?”
“I have no idea,” Cal answered.
Moans came from the other side.
“Let's do another for good measure,” Kyle said pulling the pin on the grenade. He pushed against the door giving him another inch of space and tossed it inside. “Oh, they’re going to fucking hate that one. A double fucking whammy.”
Screams and groans came from the room.
“Time to go in,” Kyle said as he started to push. “Help me.”
Cal got next to him and shoved hard. Slowly the door opened. With a foot opening, Kyle climbed over the dresser that blocked the door and into the room. On the floor he found Cisco rolling around in pain, blood coming from his lower abdomen. He picked up his weapons and asked, “Where’s Barry?”
Cisco pointed towards the bathroom.
“Thanks,” Kyle said then struck him in the head with the butt of his rifle knocking him out. He didn’t want him killed until he was sure Barry had the information he needed.
Cal made his way into the room and saw where Cisco pointed, he was on his way there with Kyle just behind him.
They reached the door, “Hello, Barry, its Driver Eight…”
Bullets ripped through the door missing them both.
“Barry, I’ve got a fucking real grenade here, I’m going to blast you out of there, now tell me where you sent my wife,” Kyle said, lying about the real grenade but anything to get Barry to come out.
“Fuck you,” Barry answered and shot again until he ran out of rounds. “Shit,” he cried out when he noticed he was out of magazines.
“Barry, I’m giving you one last chance. Just tell me, I won’t kill you, in fact I need you alive in order to get out of here,” Kyle said making an offer he wasn’t supposed to make.
Cal scowled at Kyle, “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Well, the deal has changed,” Kyle said.
No response from Barry.
“Barry, we’ve killed your people, your guards, no one is coming for you,” Kyle lied. It was a bad lie because Tommy was still miraculously holding off the guards from the doorway.
“I still hear the gunfire,” Barry hollered.
“Fine, you leave me no choice,” Kyle said taking a step back and raising the rifle.
Cal smiled hoping Barry would get struck by a bullet.
A thought came to Kyle. Why hasn’t he shot back? He let that simmer for a second and made a rash decision thinking he was out of ammunition. He lowered the rifle and kicked the door. It burst open.
Barry jumped into the shower.
Kyle raced into the room with Cal just behind. He ran up on the shower, raised his rifle and said, “Got ya’.”
“Don’t shoot, I’ll tell you where she went, just don’t shoot.”
“Tell me now!” Kyle yelled.
“No, then you’ll kill me.”
“I told you I need you to get out of here,” Kyle replied.
“No.”
Kyle grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him out of the shower.
“That wasn’t part of the deal. Any second longer he’s alive is another second he has a chance of escaping. I won’t risk that.”
“He’s our bargaining chip on getting out of here,” Kyle said pulling Barry along with him.
“Kyle!” Tommy yelled.
“Coming,” Kyle hollered back.
They exited the bathroom. Kyle looked over and said, “Check on Cisco.”
“Will do.”
Kyle and Barry exited the room to find Tommy still engaged with guards but using on one arm. “You alright?” Kyle asked.
“I got fucking shot, twice, my left arm if totally fucked.”
Cal emerged from the room, “Cisco is dead. He had a bad wound to his stomach.”
“He’s a brave man, he jumped on that last grenade you threw in,” Barry said.
“Shit, looks like you’re my only source. You can’t die, you hear me,” Kyle said to Barry. “Hold him, let me check on Tommy,” Kyle ordered Cal.
Cal happily took Barry.
“What can I do?” Kyle asked reaching Tommy just as a few shots smashed into the door above their heads.
“Get us the hell out of here,” Tommy answered.
“I think we use Barry as a bargaining chip,” Kyle said.
“Hey, Driver Eight!” Cal called out.
Kyle turned to see Cal holding a pistol to Barry’s head.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kyle asked walking towards Cal his arm out motioning for him to lower the pistol.
“If he kills me you’ll never know where I sent your wife,” Barry cried out knowing his life was hanging in the balance.
“Cal put the pistol down. I need to know where my wife is, we made a deal.”
“What did you say? Well, the deal has changed,” Cal snarled then pulled the trigger of his Glock 17. A single nine millimeter round struck Barry in the temple, traveled through his brain and exited out the other side, taking parts of his skull and brain with it.
Barry dropped to the floor dead.
“No!” Kyle cried out. He looked at Barry on the floor, the blood pouring out and pooling around him. With Barry dead so was the chance on knowing exactly where Portia could be.
“Your turn,” Cal said turning the pistol on Kyle.
A shot rang out behind Kyle and struck Cal in the chest followed by a second, then a third. Cal recoiled and fell to the ground. He clawed at the three wounds in his chest.
Kyle walked over to Cal and hovered above him. “You took the one chance I had to save my wife.”
“Payback,” Cal said referring to Dana.
Tommy ran over, “Kyle we have to go, I can’t hold them off anymore.”
Kyle looked at the large plate glass window. “Are you afraid of heights?”
“Only spiders and tight places and right now this place is getting a bit tight.”
“We have one major problem, how the hell are we getting five floors down?”
“Then we need to go out into the hall, to the left at the far end is a stairwell. No one has come up it but I don’t know why?”
“Maybe it’s locked,” Kyle said.
Tommy looked to the door, “Bro, we can’t stand here talking, we need to go, now.”
Kyle looked down at the two remaining grenades on his belt. “We go for the door now,” he said running to the suite entrance. He peeked around the corner and saw seven guards slowly maneuvering down towards them. One took a shot when they saw him poke his head out.
Tommy came up behind him and said, “How’s it look?”
“Seven.”
“My lucky number,” Tommy said and grunted in pain when he shifted to get ready to run. The entire left side of his shirt was soaked in blood.
Kyle pulled the pin on the smoke grenade, stepped out and threw it. The spoon flew and the grenade popped. Smoke immediately began to pour out of it. He took the CS grenade, did the same thing and threw it. With the smoke providing cover and the gas grenade immobilizing the guards they sprinted from the door towards the stairwell entrance.
Tommy took several steps and tripped over something lying in the hall.
Kyle stopped, picked him up and said, “Come on, buddy, no time to be lying around.” He got Tommy to his feet and could see he wasn’t doing well. His face was ashen and sweat was pouring down his face.
“I’m good,” Tommy said pushing Kyle to go.
The two began to move when a volley of gunfire came at them.
Tommy took a round in the back and fell to the ground hard, his face smacking the floor. Kyle spun around and returned fire. He grabbed Tommy by the collar and began to drag him. The stairwell door was only a few feet away but it seemed like a mile. More gunfire came their way but luckily it missed them.
With one arm pulling Tommy, Kyle was firing back with his other. He reached the door, and kicked it open. “C’mon buddy,” Kyle said dragging Tommy into the stairwell. “How ya’ doing?” he asked.
Tommy coughed up blood but keeping with his tough as nails persona, replied, “Never been better.”
“Can you stand?”
A serious look came over Tommy as he coughed hard. He spit out a mouthful of blood and said, “Bro, I’m fucking done. Leave me. Go.”
“Never,” Kyle said reaching down to lift Tommy up.
“No, leave me.”
“Not going to happen,” Kyle said picking Tommy up in a fireman’s carry. The first few steps was difficult but soon Kyle adjusted to the added weight. One flight after another he went. He saw a sign posted about the parking garage. He passed the main floor and kept going down. Above him, he heard the door open and people enter the stairwell, their voices echoed down pushing him harder. He took the last step there was onto a landing, the sign on the door read, PARKING GARAGE. He opened it and walked in. The cavernous space was mostly empty except at the far end he saw a line of vehicles. He raced for them. His legs were fatiguing but he knew if he stopped they’d both die. Arriving at the first vehicle he checked to find it locked. Car after car he went, every one of them locked. He turned a corner and there like a shining gem was his truck. “No way,” he said out loud. All he could think was Barry had driven it over here to store. He ran as hard as he could towards it.
The door he exited at the far end of the garage burst open and guards poured out.
Hearing they were coming he pushed even harder until he reached his truck. “We made it buddy, can you believe my truck is here?” he asked placing Tommy carefully into the truck bed.
Tommy mumbled something unintelligible, his eyes shut.
Kyle knelt down and ran his hand under the lip of the truck’s body until he found what he was looking for, a spare key. He removed the magnetic canister, slid it open and let the key fall into his hand. “Thank God,” he said out loud. He unlocked the truck, jumped behind the wheel, and inserted the key. He pressed his eyes closed and said a quick prayer, “Start up, please.” He turned the key and the engine roared to life. Not wasting another second, he put the truck into drive and smashed his foot against the accelerator. The truck lunged forward. He turned the wheel hard left and sped towards the exit. In between him and escaping stood the seven guards who were in pursuit from the fifth level.
Seeing the truck coming at them, they jumped out of the way.
Kyle turned the wheel hard to the right and smashed through the gate and out onto the drive. He made a hard left and again slammed the accelerator down. The truck’s throaty exhaust roared like a lion. Ahead of him was the second gate. The guard saw him coming but didn’t know what to do except get out of the way. Like the garage gate, he plowed through that. The last remaining obstacle was the main gate. Like the others, Kyle’s plan was to run right through it. However this time, the guards were ready.
Two guards stepped in the middle of the drive and began to fire. The rounds hit the truck but weren’t enough to stop it. Unrelenting, Kyle pushed the pedal down as far as it would go. When the truck exploded through the heavy metal gate, he was going over ninety miles per hour.
The events of the past few hours turned out to be a complete failure. He’d risked it all and barely got out of there alive. The Underground would count the night as a victory but it came at a huge cost for Kyle. The one man who knew where Portia had been taken was dead and he was nowhere closer to finding her than he was hours ago.
CHAPTER 8
FOUR MILES NORTH OF COLLECTIVE PRIME
Kyle cleaned Tommy’s multiple wounds, which totaled seven. He’d been shot more than he’d let on and had lost a lot of blood, so much, Kyle was having a hard time keeping him conscious. Seeing his old friend lying there, his breathing shallow and his skin pale, broke his heart. Out of the millions of miles he’d driven since the war, he never once came upon anyone he knew, now that he had, he was close to losing them.
Tommy shook for a second then opened his eyes to just above a slit. “Kyle. I’m thirsty.”
Kyle took a bottle of water from the table next to him and poured a little into Tommy’s mouth. “Hey buddy, do you want some meds. You know, pain stuff?” Kyle asked.
Tommy shook his head.
“You sure. Why feel the pain if you don’t have to,” Kyle said.
“Pains one of the few things that make me feel alive,” Tommy said, the tempo of his voice slower than it normally was.
“A glutton for punishment,” Kyle joked.
“That’s me,” Tommy said before coughing. “Argh, it hurts to cough, I hate that.”
“C’mon man, let me get you some pain meds,” Kyle insisted.
“No, I don’t want to die in a fog,” Tommy said.
“You’re not going to die, stop that talk,” Kyle said reassuring himself more than Tommy.
“I’ve missed you, brother. I’m sad that we didn’t run into each other years before but I’m so happy that we did when we did.”
“Me too.”
“There’s a place. Jacob found a map. They say it’s untouched. They say it’s paradise,” Tommy mumbled.
Kyle raised his brow in confusion. Was Tommy fading? Was this it?
“You should go there, live your life in peace,” Tommy continued.
“Maybe after I find Portia we all can go,” Kyle said playing along. He had no idea what Tommy was talking about.
“Portia is such a beautiful name. I never found anyone. I’m not meant for it. Was never good at it,” Tommy mused.
“Maybe when we all go to paradise you’ll find a hot blonde with huge tits,” Kyle joked.
A smile stretched across Tommy’s face, “That’s sounds nice.” He coughed and groaned in pain. “I’m so tired,” he said as he closed his eyes.
“Thanks for saving me,” Kyle said taking Tommy’s hand in his.
Tommy opened his eyes and said, “My phone, find my phone.”
“Why?”
“Jacob. He might have called,” Tommy said pointing towards the window.
Kyle went to the pack and found the satellite phone. He took it out and checked it. The screen didn’t show a missed call. “No calls.”
“Outside, go outside.”
Doing as Tommy said, Kyle went outside. As soon as he cleared the house, the phone beeped, he looked at the screen and saw he now had a signal. He stared at it hoping a notification would pop up telling him the phone had a message.
A second beep sounded. The screen read, 1 NEW MESSAGE.
Kyle hit the message button. The phone dialed a number, clicked twice and the message began.
“Tommy, Jacob here, we tracked down a truck that had come from The Collective. It made a stop in Salina and was on its way to St. George when it was hit by a tribe of Generates. We’re now tracking the Generates. They have a small settlement west of Richfield in the Fishlake National Forest. Heading there now. I’ll be in contact soon.”
Kyle ran inside, “Tommy, I think I know where she is. Jacob left a message. She was sent to the Republic.”
Tommy didn’t respond. His eyes were closed and he lay motionless.
“Tommy?” Kyle asked walking up beside the bed.
Still Tommy lay motionless.
Kyle checked his pulse but didn’t find anything. He sighed and sat on the bed next to Tommy. “Ah, shit. I’m so sorry,” he said. With Tommy dead he needed to press forward. First thing he needed to do was call Jacob and see if he had further information. Timing was everything. He left the bedside and headed back outside. Once he was in the open and the phone had a signal he dialed the last number on the phone.
The phone clicked and began to ring. He patiently waited, but no one answered. “Come on, pick up.”
With the best clues as to where Portia might be, Kyle began to load his truck with anything of value he could find from the house and Tommy’s truck. I
t took him a short time to get everything he needed, the last order of business was Tommy.
It had become custom to burn bodies as burying them led to Generates or other animals digging them up. Using a small amount of gasoline, he dosed the bed and surrounding area. That would be enough to ensure the entire house would burn down. When he was ready, he lit a Molotov cocktail and tossed it into the bedroom. The bottle exploded into a ball of flames catching the bed and everything around on fire. Soon the entire room was covered in flames with black smoke pouring out of the front door and windows.
Kyle got behind the wheel of his truck and watched as the flames now engulfed the small house. “Goodbye, Tommy, I’ll see you in Valhalla.” He put the truck into gear, slammed on the accelerator and sped off towards his first stop, Salina.
FIFETEEN MILES SOUTH OF JOSEPH, UTAH, ROCKY MOUNTAIN REPUBLIC
Portia opened her eyes from a dead sleep and bolted upright. Sweat clung to her forehead and face. She looked around to find she was in the backseat of an SUV. The last thing she remembered was fighting the urge to fall asleep. Laughter came from outside. She twirled around to look but the windows were steamed up. She wiped an area and peered through the grimy window. Not far away, she saw the ragtag group sitting around a fire, talking, eating and telling jokes. Curious and hungry, she exited the truck. When she slammed the door the group all turned their heads and stared.
She gave them a nervous wave and cautiously walked towards them.
“Don’t be shy,” Jacob said waving her over. “We don’t bite.”
“Unless you want us too,” a large man with a thick beard said. In the group he was known a Crusher, it was a name he’d been given early on after he’d crushed a man’s skull between his hands. He was a hulk of a man, standing six foot seven with hands that were oversized even for his stature.
Portia took a seat next to Crusher who gave her a wink. “Smells good,” she said looking at the open pot cooking over the fire.
Driver 8: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel Page 19
