Driver 8: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

by G. Michael Hopf

  Gunny opened fire from a position on the second floor. In the distance the Marshals began to holler and call out as they took cover.

  “Let’s go,” Jacob said taking Portia’s hand and raced out the front door. Together they leaped from the deck and hit the ground running.

  Leigh sprinted from her position and caught up.

  The Marshals returned fire on the house.

  “Come on you sons of bitches, come and get me!” Gunny hollered and followed it up with a howl of joy.

  Portia’s heart beat so hard it felt like it was going to burst. She counted each stride, knowing it basically equaled a yard. If she could make fifty, she was there.

  “Runners on the right!” a voice cried out.

  Rounds began to hit around Jacob, Portia and Leigh.

  “Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine,” Portia counted under her breath.

  “Get some you mother fuckers!” Gunny screamed out.

  “Forty-three, forty-four, forty-five,” Portia continued.

  A shot whizzed by Leigh’s head. “Damn that was close.” A second round came but this one hit her in the left thigh, it went in and came out, but along its journey the five point five six millimeter round tore her artery. Her leg gave out and she tumbled to the ground.

  “Leigh!” Jacob cried out. He stopped, picked her up and continued on.

  “Fifty!” Portia said loudly but she was still sigh of reaching the garage by twenty feet.

  “I’m bleeding badly,” Leigh said wincing in pain.

  “You’re fine, nothing can happen to you,” Jacob said his voice cracking with emotion.

  “Here,” Portia said reaching the garage. She flung the door open and ran inside.

  Jacob and Leigh were just behind. When he crossed the threshold, Jacob tripped and both, he and Leigh fell to the ground hard.

  Leigh grunted out in pain.

  “Portia, here are the keys to the SUV, start it up, go,” Jacob ordered.

  Portia took the keys and made for the SUV.

  “Boss, I’m hit pretty fucking bad,” Leigh said.

  Rounds started to hit the side of the garage.

  “You’re going to be fine, you listen to me, you’re going to be fine,” Jacob said in an attempt to reassure Leigh.

  The SUV roared to life, tossing light across the garage.

  Now able to see her leg, Jacob was shocked at the volume of blood. He put his hand against the spot and applied pressure.

  Knowing her fate was sealed, she placed her shaking hands on top of his and said softly, “Go, live a good life in Paradise.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” he said, his eyes welling up with tears. For years he’d cared for her, but never wanted to express his feelings for concern it would be a distraction for the team.

  She placed her left hand on his cheek and said, “Thank you for saving me all those years ago.”

  He could see the life draining out of her. No matter how hard he pressed down on the wound, the blood kept pouring out. “No, please, don’t go, I need you.”

  “You don’t need anyone, you’re the boss,” she said wiping a tear from his cheek.

  “I’ll fix you, I will,” he said and pushed down as hard as he could against her leg.

  The rounds kept slamming against the side of the garage.

  Her hand wandered over her vest until it found Sally. “I’ve got my girl here. No, go, please, go.”

  Portia watched the emotional scene play out and she too began to cry.

  Heeding Leigh’s words, Jacob left her next to the truck and got inside the SUV.

  “Go?” Portia asked.

  He wiped the tears from his cheek, lowered the window, readied his rifle and said, “Drive.”

  ***

  Gunny put up a fight but eventually, the odds and firepower were against him. After the Marshals’ cleared the main house and killed Gunny, they went to the outbuildings.

  A young Marshal walked through the shattered door of the garage and discovered Leigh. “Ty, Aaron, guys, I’ve found another!”

  Leigh took a labored breath and lifted her head.

  Seeing her move the young Marshal cried out, “She’s alive, the chick is alive. Guys hurry up.” He walked over and shined a flashlight down on her.

  Leigh was surrounded by a large pool of blood and her face was so white it almost looked translucent. Her hands were cradled in her lap with her legs spread out in front of her.

  Six Marshals entered the garage, their individual lights casting a blinding light on her.

  Aaron, the lead Marshal, stepped forward and knelt down to get a better look at Leigh. “Look fellas, she took a round through the thigh, you see that?” he asked pointing at the entry wound.

  The others nodded.

  “Now that’s a shot. By the amount of blood, that round cut through her artery and now the bitch is about to expire from blood loss,” he laughed.

  “With her, that’s four, that means one got away, their leader,” Ty said.

  “And he had someone with him, another woman,” the young Marshal said, excitement in his eyes at the prospect of torturing or even raping Leigh. “Senior Marshal Aaron, can we have some fun with her before she dies?”

  Aaron stood, gave the young Marshal a hard look and asked, “Is that the kind of people you think we are?”

  “Ah, but I thought…” the young Marshal said. He was new to the Marshals’ service.

  “You thought right, go have fun boys, do whatever you want, she’ll be dead soon anyway.”

  The men drew close to Leigh.

  Another Marshal entered the barn bringing their number to eight total surrounding Leigh. “Senior Marshal, total count for us tonight is six KIA and seven wounded.”

  “Fourteen,” Leigh muttered.

  Aaron turned around and looked at Leigh, “Move out of the way.” The other stepped aside. “What did you say?” he asked her.

  “Fourteen,” she answered, her eyes half open and a crooked smile on her face.

  “Fourteen? What the hell does that mean?” Aaron asked.

  Leigh exhaled her last breath. Her hands went limp, freeing Sally. The spoon flew off the grenade, it rolled between her legs and detonated.

  CHAPTER 9

  SALINA, UTAH, ROCKY MOUNTAIN REPUBLIC

  Mindset. That’s all Kyle had going for him at the moment. Following over a week of fighting, beatings and torture he was now operating on nothing but pure willpower. After losing a couple hours because of the detour he pressed ahead to make up time, only stopping to refuel and urinate. He even ignored the screaming baby, a feat that was probably the toughest.

  When he entered the Republic, hope began to rise in him. When he crossed into Salina, his hope turned to a rising confidence. Soon, he’d either find Portia or know where she wasn’t, then move onto the next stop. He had tried to call Jacob several times along the drive, but never reached him. The idea of a phone was great as long as the other person answered.

  Now that he was in Salina, he’d be nearing the beginning of the end of his search. He rounded the last turn and up ahead stood the Rusty Nail. He wasn’t sure if this was the spot Jacob referenced in Salina, but it made logical sense.

  He pulled the truck into the parking lot of the Rusty Nail and backed into a spot in the back. Across from him Conrad, the old lot guard, sat smoking a pipe. Today, he wasn’t going in to talk, today he was going in fight.

  The baby began to stir and cry.

  “Hey little guy, I’m sorry I don’t have milk or food, but I’ll have some soon, I promise,” Kyle said tickling the baby’s chubby cheek.

  Kyle stepped out of the truck. He press checked two Glock 19s before stuffing them into holsters, one on his tactical vest and one on his hip. A third Glock 19 he kept on the seat of the truck, he’d carry that one in. He checked to make sure he had enough fully loaded magazines for his pistols and rifle, an old Daniel Defense MK18 carbine.

  A whistle from across the parking lot jolte
d in out of his preps. He looked in the direction and saw one of the prostitutes standing near the back door smoking a cigarette. He nodded and went back to prepping. When his firearms were ready, he put Tommy’s Hoback knife on his vest, and attached Tommy’s axe on his left hip. An idea popped in his head, he looked back at the prostitute and waved her over.

  She stomped on her marijuana cigarette and rushed over to him. “Look at you cowboy, you look like you mean business,” she said. She cocked her hip out and gave him a seductive look. She wasn’t older than seventeen and was wearing hot pants and a crop top with no bra underneath. Her blonde colored hair with roots hung down to her shoulders and her bangs were cut horizontally across her brow line.

  “I do,” he replied reaching inside his backpack and pulling out a wad of Republic dollars. He handed them to her and said, “I need you to sit here with this baby until I return.”

  “Baby?” she asked shocked by the request.

  “Yeah,” he said nodding towards the child.

  She looked in the cab and said, “Oh my, there is a baby, he’s so cute, or is it a girl?”

  “Don’t know, haven’t checked. Can you feed and change him or her while I’m gone too?”

  “I don’t know much about babies,” she said reluctant to take the proposition.

  “Say, did you get some new girls in here a few days ago?” he asked.

  “Yeah, ladies from The Collective, real prissy types,” the girl said.

  “Any of them named Portia, average height, dark hair, lean build?” he asked.

  “Nope, I don’t know any Portia,” she said smacking on gum. “You know, I’m not sure about this babysitting thing.”

  “I’ll double the cash when I get back and I’ll toss in a bonus for you.”

  “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

  “I’ll set you free, you and all the girls,” he said putting his rifle sling over his shoulder.

  “Free?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How ya’ going to do that?” she asked.

  He looked her deep into her eyes and said, “Because, I’m going to kill everyone responsible for this place.”

  ORDERVILLE, UTAH, ROCKY MOUNTAIN REPUBLIC

  “Jacob, pull over,” Portia urged.

  “No, we’re pushing all the way through,” Jacob replied. He was struggling to remain awake.

  “Listen to me, you’re exhausted, I’m exhausted, let’s find a place to rest, just for a short bit, please,” she pleaded.

  “I can’t, if we hadn’t stopped my team would be alive, Leigh would be alive,” Jacob said.

  She put her hand on his and said, “That wasn’t your fault, that was Chef, he betrayed you and your friends.”

  “How could he? After all those years together, he just turned us in. It all makes sense when I think about how he had been acting lately. For the past few days, every time we’d camp, we’d discover the Marshals are close behind. That bastard was giving them our coordinates.”

  “It’s over now,” Portia said.

  “And poor Leigh,” Jacob said fighting back tears.

  “I didn’t know you two were together, I’m sorry,” she said.

  “We weren’t, I mean we didn’t show the team our affection. I hid it for many years but had only recently opened up to her and now she’s gone.”

  “Let’s pull over, please,” she again pleaded.

  “Fine,” he said and immediately slowed and took the next dirt road off the old two lane highway. “We’ll park in that grove of trees,” he said pointing ahead some fifty feet.

  “Perfect,” she said.

  He pulled into the trees and turned the vehicle off. “We’re almost out of fuel.”

  “We’ll take care of it later, let’s get some sleep,” she said, her eyes growing heavy.

  “I’m really sorry about your husband,” he said.

  “And I’m sorry about Leigh. Tell me more about Paradise.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “How much further?”

  “We’re almost in the Neutral Zone, then we go into Cartel country. If all goes smooth, we’ll be at the dock by tomorrow afternoon, so thirty some hours of driving.”

  She yawned.

  “You know something. We’re together because of pure fate. A simple call and now we’re sitting here,” he said looking over to see Portia was sleeping. He didn’t want to follow suit but it was becoming impossible. He removed his pistol and sat it on his lap. Leaning back he gazed south, closed his eyes and nodded off.

  The drive through Cartel country wasn’t any more dangerous than anywhere else, it was a sparsely populated area due in part because of the Sonoran desert. After the war and the collapse of the grid, the once populated smaller cities emptied out, their population migrating northward towards what they hoped was abundant food and water. With no law and order, the Sinaloa Cartel moved in and quickly occupied, killing or enslaving those who remained. Conflict between the Republic and Cartel soon followed with both sides calling a truce and creating a barrier between their lands called the Neutral Zone. It was a band of land, twenty-miles wide that stretched along what had been the borders of California, Arizona, Nevada, Utah and parts of New Mexico. The Cartel attempted to push east into New Mexico but ran up against a sizable force from the newly formed New Texas.

  New Texas was a force to reckon with, they kept to themselves, but anyone who wished to compromise their sovereignty were quickly dispatched. New Texas was huge, spanning the former states of Texas, most of New Mexico, Oklahoma, southern parts of Arkansas and western Louisiana with their capital in Baytown, a port city in east Texas.

  During the height of Jacob’s tenure with Leviathan, he and his team had operated in the southern part of the Republic, Sinaloa Cartel territory, and New Texas; they avoided The Collective and never entered California, unless the job would pay heavily. The once populace state suffered dearly from the war with dozens of high yield nuclear warheads hitting cities all along the coast and inland. From San Diego, Los Angeles, Riverside, Sacramento, San Francisco, San Jose and many of the military installations, the state had turned into one large wasteland west of the Sierra, Laguna and San Bernardino mountains. With civilization destroyed, roving tribes of Generates took control years back and had pushed east past the mountains, threatening the other nations.

  The Generate problem was the real issue plaguing the land. However, like the leadership in The Collective, everyone was choosing to ignore it despite pleas from small towns and hamlets. Instead, the powers that be targeted a greater threat to their bottom line, Leviathan. With Leviathan in the cross hairs of every government, leader or warlord it put them all in a situation; stay and fight or leave. At the moment, Jacob was still on the path to leave but with his team now dead his decision wasn’t set in stone.

  SALINA, UTAH, ROCKY MOUNTAIN REPUBLIC

  Kyle approached Conrad and stopped a foot from him.

  Conrad barely gave him a glance before going back to whittling a chunk of wood. “You’re back. What’s your payment?”

  “A group of slaves came in from The Collective, any of them named Portia?” Kyle asked.

  Conrad peered over the reading glasses he’d gotten from Kyle before and asked, “Who wants to know?”

  “I do,” Kyle said firmly.

  Conrad looked at Kyle and saw he was holding a pistol in his right hand. “Don’t you look like Mr. Tough Guy? Um, any information will cost you.”

  “How about your miserable life?” Kyle asked and put the pistol under Conrad’s chin. “Tell me if a woman by the name of Portia came here?”

  “Listen, I don’t know shit, I just sit here and watch the parking lot,” Conrad begged dropping his knife and the carved piece of wood.

  “You’re not helping yourself. This Glock has a five pound trigger pull. Being that I’m angry, it feels more like a two pound pull, and I’m squeezing it right now. I’d say you have half a trigger pull left to tell me what you know before your fucking
brains end up all over the wall.”

  “A truck came the other day, brought a bunch of them.”

  “How many?” Kyle asked pushing the muzzle deeper into his chin.

  “I didn’t count.”

  “Guess then.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, fifteen maybe,” Conrad stammered.

  “Did they all stay?”

  “No, some left, about nine or ten, but I swear I don’t know who or their names, I swear,” Conrad pleaded.

  “How many men does Frank have in there?”

  “Ten, he has ten.”

  “Where are they usually?”

  “Some hang in the bar, some are back with the girls and others have a break room near the back, for the most part everyone in there now is one of Frank’s men on the account it’s early in the morning.”

  “Thank you,” Kyle said pulling the trigger.

  The top of Conrad’s head exploded. The old man toppled off his stool and smashed into the ground.

  “One down, eleven to go,” Kyle said, the eleventh being Frank by Kyle’s count. He shoved the pistol into his waistband, tossed open the door and entered the bar.

  “Hey, no guns, read the fucking sign!” a large fat man hollered from the back of the bar. He was sitting at a table with three others playing cards.

  Kyle brought his rifle into play. He raised it, flicked the selector switch to SEMI and began to fire. His first two shots struck the fat man, he made a subtle turn and shot the man to his right and another next to him. He pivoted to the left and shot that man. The men fell over or lay face down on the table, all were dead.

  Screaming ensued as the few patrons and girls began to flee for cover.

  Kyle wasn’t going to let anyone off the hook though, he leveled his rifle at a patron and squeezed two shots off striking the man in the back. He turned and engaged two more men, driving bullets deep into their chest. Clearly he’d changed the targets but after seeing these men preying on the girls, he decided to add them to the kill list.

  The break room door flew open and three of Frank’s men came running out, weapons in hand.