TWO MILES NORTH OF CIRCLEVILLE, UTAH, ROCKY MOUNTAIN REPUBLIC
Gunny walked in through the front door and headed towards the others who were grouped together around the dining table. The only light Jacob wanted on was a small battery powered lantern.
“What’s for dinner?” Gunny asked looking around at the long faces.
“Don’t know, Chef said it would be up but that was a good thirty minutes ago,” Leigh complained, she was cleaning her side arm, a Glock 17.
“Why does everyone look like their pet cat was just killed?” Gunny joked, taking off his tactical vest and hanging it from the seat back.
“Hungry,” Leigh answered.
Jacob was busy looking over a map while Portia just sat, lost in her own thoughts.
“Well, I’m going to go check on Chef, I promised Crusher I’d bring him some chow,” Gunny said and headed towards the kitchen. The hall was dark and from the absence of light coming from the kitchen, Chef wasn’t there. “Hey, Chef you there?” Gunny asked walking into the pitch black room. He removed a flashlight and turned it on. From the looks of it, Chef hadn’t been doing anything back here. He quickly exited and went back to the group. “Hey guys, Chef isn’t back there. And he’s not cooking shit.”
“Maybe he’s jerking off somewhere,” Leigh joked.
“No, I’m serious, he’s gone, somethings not right,” Gunny stressed.
Leigh jumped up, quickly put the pistol back together, inserted a full magazine and racked the slide. “Let’s go look for Chef.”
Jacob turned to Portia who stood looking lost. He pulled out an old Smith and Wesson revolver and handed it to her. “Here, you’ll need something to protect you just in case.” Portia took the gun and held it in her open hand unsure of how to use it. “It’s simple, point, and pull the trigger. You have six rounds in there,” Jacob said and headed out with Leigh and Gunny.
“Should I come too?” she asked.
Jacob hollered out, “No, stay put.”
The three exited the house and found Crusher on the far left side leaning against the corner of the house. “What’s up?” he called out.
“Chef, he’s missing,” Jacob said.
“I haven’t seen him,” Crusher said.
“Stay on guard, Portia’s inside, Leigh go around back check out those small outbuildings, I’ll go search the barn and Gunny, go to the garage,” Jacob ordered.
Just as they all stepped off, the front door opened and Portia came out, “Hey, he’s in here.”
They all came back to the house. Jacob entered the house first, he was a mixed bag of emotions, first and foremost, he was concerned, but secondly, if he found out that Chef was screwing off, he’d be severely angry with him. “Where were you?” he asked Chef.
Hovering near the dining table, Chef answered, “I was out back, looking to see if the propane tank was off. The oven is gas, thought maybe I could cook something warm for us.”
Jacob approached him and asked again, “Where were you?”
“I told you, I went out back to see if I could find the propane tank.”
“You went back to the kitchen almost fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago,” Jacob said, suspecting something was wrong.
“It’s that simple, don’t be such a stress monster,” Chef snapped. “And I’ll let you know I did find the propane and we have a pot of baked beans cooking now.”
The others stood just behind Jacob, all leering suspiciously at him.
“What the fuck guys, I was only trying to make sure we had warm food versus cold, lighten up,” Chef barked and stormed off.
“Next time tell us, if you haven’t been aware, we’re being hunted right now,” Jacob hollered.
“Give him a break, boss,” Leigh said and went back to the dining table.
“Communication is key to everything,” Jacob said.
“I disagree, I think its firepower,” Leigh said, dropping the magazine, locking the slide to the rear and catching the bullet as it flew out of the chamber.
“If I were fifteen years younger,” Gunny joked at Leigh and gave her a wink.
“That’s sweet Pops, but I like my men at least younger than eighty,” she fired back. “Although you’re hot for an old guy,” she said returning the wink.
“Don’t listen to her, I’m only fifty-five, but I can still get it up,” Gunny said to Portia.
Portia chuckled at the inappropriate conversation.
Jacob hadn’t moved, he was still looking towards the kitchen. He sensed something was wrong but couldn’t put a finger on what it was.
GRAND JUNCTION, COLORADO, GENERATE CONTROLLED TERRITORY
The drive was slow but so far successful. He’d only had to make one detour and quickly got back on his route.
The glow from the countless fires helped illuminate his path and allowed him to go faster. The other major impediment was the debris that riddled the streets. He found himself swerving and veering around any number of large items left strewn on the street.
By his estimate he was over half way across town. He came to a crossroad street. From his memory, if he turned left and went south it would take him out of town but in order to get back on the old interstate he’d have to drive a few hours around through a pass. Straight ahead was direct and the interchange for the freeway was only two miles away. The issue was the bright glow from a bulk of the fires came from that direction.
“Which way?” he said out loud.
Out of the shadows a woman ran up and slammed her left hand on the hood, “Help, please.”
The clarity through the night vision wasn’t the best but it was good enough to tell him she wasn’t a Generate.
“Help, they’re after me, please,” she pleaded, her voice echoing down the street. Cradled in her left arm was a baby in a swaddle. “Please, help me.”
He revved the truck, hoping she’d get out of his way but she didn’t. He had three choices, run her over, help her or go in reverse.
The distinct cries from Generates sounded to his right. He looked but couldn’t see anything…yet, but they were coming.
“Help me,” she screamed, her voice panicked after hearing the Generates coming.
He revved the engine again and tapped the accelerator enough to warn her to get out of the way, but she wasn’t relenting.
“Please, they’ll kill me and my baby.”
This was not the situation Kyle wanted or needed to be in. He could easily run the woman over and even considered it, but doing so only made him like Barry or Xavier. No, he had to help her. He cracked his door and yelled, “Go to the passenger door!”
She ran for it just as a small pack of Generates cleared the corner of a building and raced towards them.
He leaned across the cab, unlocked the door and pushed it open.
She reached the door, put the small infant down on the seat and went to get in herself but was prevented when a Generate grabbed her arm and pulled her out. She hit the ground and screamed.
Kyle shot the Generate several times.
She rolled to her side and went to get up but three more Generates tackled her. She wailed in pain as they began to plunge their knives into her.
Kyle emptied his magazine into them but more came. She was dead and he knew it. He heard more cries from Generates and looked ahead to see what could only be described as a herd coming his way. Unable to save her, he slammed his foot down on the accelerator and turned the steering wheel hard to the left. His plan to save time by going through Grand Junction was over. If he wanted to live through the night, he’d have to take the longer route south.
Through the altercation, the baby cried and wailed but there was nothing Kyle could do to comfort it until he was well enough away.
The bright glow from the city grew more distant with each mile he took. Feeling he was at a safe distance, he pulled the truck over. He tore off the night vision, reached down and picked up the crying child and held it in his arms. “Ssh, baby, ssh, it’s okay now,” he sai
d softly rocking the baby in his arms. By the size, the child was no more than three or four months old. After several minutes of rocking and shushing, the child grew quiet and began to coo.
“What in the hell am I going to do with a baby?” he asked himself out loud. “Am I cursed?” Not only had he tacked on additional time to Salina but he now had a baby to care for.
TWO MILES NORTH OF CIRCLEVILLE, UTAH, ROCKY MOUNTAIN REPUBLIC
“I don’t know how you do it, but you managed to turn regular canned beans into a gourmet meal,” Gunny gushed patting his belly.
Chef nodded, a big smile stretched across his face.
Through the meal, Jacob kept an eye on Chef.
Leigh picked up on this and was also being watchful.
“You don’t look that much older than me. How long were you a chef before the war?” Portia asked.
“Not long, I had just graduated culinary school and was on my way to my first real chef’s position when it began raining nuclear weapons. I was just west of Albuquerque when I started getting the reports on my mobile phone and on the radio. I never made it to Phoenix, thank God. I first went to a FEMA camp but that quickly deteriorated, I then spent a couple years migrating from place to place with a small group of others. One by one we began to get picked off by marauders and what not. A couple more years pass, I’m working for a warlord in northern Arizona. I run into Gunny here, he took a job working security for this warlord. What was his name?”
“I shit you not, he called himself King David, this dumb ass literally thought he was a decedent of the great Kind David,” Gunny answered.
“Yeah, King David. What a character he was. Liked his food cooked until it was burned,” Chef said.
“You were his cook or chef?” Portia asked.
“Yeah, it’s strange but warlords like having their own chefs, it’s like a status thing, very odd. I thought I was doomed having that as a skill set, but so far, it’s worked,” Chef said.
“How did you end up with everyone else?” Portia asked.
“Me and Gunny were running together after leaving King David, we met Crusher in a bar about a year later then about a year later we found ourselves prisoners to another warlord who operates or I should say, did operate out of southeastern Nevada. We were sent to a slave market but never made it to auction. Next thing I know, I see Jacob here shooting the lock off my cage.”
“You saved them from slavers?” Portia asked.
“Yep,” Jacob nodded.
“And what about Leigh?” Portia asked.
“He saved me a couple years later. I was being chased by some guys and before I know it, Jacob here is saving the day,” Leigh said.
“And Leigh, what is the deal with the pink grenade?” Portia asked.
“I found Sally years ago, she’s been with me a long time.”
“Sally?”
“I like the name,” Leigh replied.
“Why don’t you use it…sorry her?”
“I just don’t want to toss her for nothing, if I ever use her, it will have special meaning,” Leigh said prideful.
“I was a slave once too. A man by the name of Michael, one of the original Leviathan saved me. He was an old Marine, like Gunny here. He’d lost his family to marauders after the war. With nowhere to go, he dedicated himself to bringing justice to an unjust world. Some say he was the first Leviathan, but I don’t believe it,” Jacob explained.
“Who was?”
“There’s a lot of rumors, but I don’t think Michael was even though he was the oldest Leviathan I’d ever met before.”
“Who started the other teams?” Portia asked, genuinely curious.
“I helped get others started. While others have just sprouted up on their own,” Jacob answered.
“Fascinating,” Portia said, her tone clearly excited by the conversation. “What does one do to become like you?”
Chef blurted out, “No need to worry about that, soon enough it will all be over.”
Jacob gave Chef an odd look.
“Over?” Leigh asked.
“Yeah, like soon we’ll be sailing for Paradise,” Chef replied.
The crackling of a radio came from the kitchen.
Everyone got quiet and looked at each other.
Jacob jumped to his feet, followed by Chef, who had the look of fear in his eyes.
“We have the house in view, just trying to make contact with the mole,” the gruff voice radioed.
Chef sprinted for the kitchen but only made it a few feet before Jacob tackled him to the ground. “Who is that?”
Leigh raced past them and into the kitchen, she returned holding the radio.
“We’ve got the place surrounded, just still waiting on our contact to let us know what it looks like inside.”
Jacob punched Chef in the face and yelled, “What have you done?”
Blood streamed down Chef’s face from a busted lip, he opened his blood stained teeth and replied, “I did what you should have done. Made a deal. I’m sick and tired of this cat and mouse game. I’m tired of fighting, I’m tired of our stupid fucking code. I just want to live in peace. I want to do nothing but eat, fuck and drink and they promised me that.”
“In exchange for us? You gave us up to be killed so you can eat, fuck and drink? That’s all our years of friendship have come to equal?” Jacob asked, his face showing the huge emotional toll this was having on him.
“Teams one and two, just go, fuck this guy,” the radio boomed.
Another voice came over the radio and said, “I’ve got sights on the big fucker, taking it.”
“No!” Leigh yelled running for the front door. She threw the door open and screamed, “Crusher, get down!”
Crusher looked over at her and cocked his head, surprised that she was screaming at him.
A single shot cracked in the distance.
Leigh ran towards Crusher but it was too late. The single shot struck him in head. He slid down the side of the house and was dead before he hit the ground. Leigh ran to his side and cried out, “Ah, no, no!”
Hearing the gun shot, Jacob sprang to action, he ran for his weapons near the dining table.
Gunny did the same, while Chef got to his feet and ran out the front door. “Don’t shoot, it’s me, Chef, don’t shoot!” he yelled waving his arms.
The radio had been left on the floor where Leigh dropped it. The gruff voice said, “Light it up. Kill them all.”
Chef heard the radio and turned to run back inside but didn’t make it to the front door. A massive volley of gunfire erupted from three directions, the front, west side and south. By the time his body hit the deck, he had over sixteen shots in him.
Leigh grabbed Crusher’s rifle and crawled under the deck for cover.
Jacob flipped the table over and called out to Portia, “Get over here!”
Portia did as he said and leapt behind the table.
Hundreds of rounds peppered the sides of the house, shattering windows and splintering the wood siding. Inside the house, rounds smashed into the walls, furniture, mirrors, and light fixtures. Glass, sheetrock and paneling flew everywhere.
All Jacob and Portia could do was lay low, hoping the thick wood table provided adequate cover while Gunny took shelter in a closet under the stairs.
The hail of gunfire slowed then came to an abrupt end. Distant voices could be heard calling for ceasefire.
“Gunny?” Jacob called out.
“I’m good,” Gunny replied.
“How are you?” Jacob asked Portia.
“I think I’m fine,” she answered.
“Gunny, have you seen Leigh?”
“Nope.”
Jacob looked up but couldn’t see anything, the house was immersed in darkness and through the shattered windows he could make out the faint light coming from the red dot scopes. “They’re coming!”
Gunny exited the closet and went to the back of the house, he looked out and saw the same thing Jacob had seen. “They’re coming
from the back.”
“It’s pitch black, the best thing to do is make a run for it. We’ll have the cover of night,” Jacob called out.
Gunny came back and flatly said, “I’m done running. I’m making my stand tonight. Plus you’ll need me, it may be pitch black but those assholes probably have night vision, you’re not going to get ten feet without someone seeing you.”
“I’m not staying here to die, we’ll make a run for the vehicles in the garage, it’s fifty yards away,” Jacob said.
“I’m an old man, tonight I fight. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll lay down some fire for you and the girl here.”
“Are you sure?” Jacob asked.
“Yeah, you go, get her to safety, I’ve lived a long life.”
“You’re a good man, Gunny,” Jacob said.
“Oh, shut up, I don’t want to hear a bunch of gushy sentiment,” Gunny said heading towards the stairs. “I’ll have a better vantage point upstairs. When you hear firing, run.”
Jacob and Portia got to their feet and slowly made their way to the front door and waited.
“Jacob is that you?” Leigh called out from under the deck.
“Holy shit, Leigh, you’re alive,” Jacob said just above a whisper.
“Takes more than a few hundred rounds to take me out,” she said, her voice carrying through the slats in the wood.
“We’re making a run for the vehicles in the garage, come with us,” Jacob offered.
“Where’s Gunny?” she asked.
“He’s staying, going to provide cover fire,” Jacob answered.
Leigh didn’t reply.
“No time, are you in or not?” Jacob asked.
“Yeah, I’ll go with you,” Leigh said and crawled to the end of the porch.
Driver 8: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel Page 21
