Driver 8: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

by G. Michael Hopf

  “That makes me sad,” Portia frowned as she put her attention to the shifting water around her and noticed she couldn’t see land anymore. This made her a bit fearful but she also couldn’t escape feeling excited about the adventure she was on.

  “Jacob said you were a teacher. Is that true?” Nathan asked.

  “Yes, it is true, I was an elementary school teacher in The Collective,” she replied.

  The boat rocked as it hit bigger waves.

  “Good, then maybe you can show me how read and maybe even write?” Nathan asked sheepishly.

  “You don’t…” she said before stopping herself from saying something insensitive. Not every child was given an education like The Collective. She didn’t know Nathan’s story but he was a post-war child and she had a feeling he had been a slave and educating slaves wasn’t a priority. “Of course and if you want we can start now.”

  “Really?” Nathan said, his eyes wide with excitement.

  “We’ll start with the alphabet. Have you ever heard of that before?”

  Nathan shook his head.

  She recited the letters of the alphabet then encouraged him to follow along.

  As he did, she got up and headed towards the aft. “Any water?”

  Winston grabbed a bottle and gave it to her.

  “Thank you,” she said taking the bottle and taking a drink.

  “Why are you bothering?” Winston asked nodding towards Nathan.

  “Because everyone deserves a chance to learn,” Portia answered.

  Winston grumbled, “He’s learned all he needs too.”

  “If where we’re going is what Jacob says, he’ll need to know,” she said turning back to go sit down when a sliver of deep blue sky penetrated the gray clouds. She stared and longed for a day when she could see the entire sky blue. It had been many years since she’d seen that and sometimes she wondered if it really was blue or just a dream. And just as fast as it appeared, thick gray clouds covered it but didn’t darken her spirits. Whatever lay ahead gave her the promise of a new beginning and even if she were given the chance to turn around she’d turn it down. She didn’t know if anything about Paradise was going to be how Jacob described it, in fact it could all be wrong, however; the one fact she did have was it was going to be her new home.

  CHAPTER10

  TEN MILES EAST OF CANON CITY, COLORADO, COLLECTIVE PROTECTED ZONE

  ONE WEEK LATER

  Kyle sat at the intersection. He could go east towards Pueblo. It was the most direct route, but the last reports he’d heard weeks ago had Generates there. The other option was south through more mountains then break east. Going through Pueblo was risky but it saved time and for him, time was everything, with that in mind, east it was.

  He didn’t know what to expect when he entered New Texas. All he’d heard were rumors. Though The Collective had an open trading agreement with Baytown the shipments were always exchanged at the western border. Much like the Rocky Mountain Republic, the Texans didn’t take kindly to strangers.

  He glanced through the gun port and saw the sun had just dipped below the horizon. Soon he’d need to find a place to bed down for the night. He wasn’t sure what was ahead but he did recall an old abandoned town just north of him. It was off route, but there were numerous buildings and one could provide the cover he’d need for the night. With his decision made, he turned the wheel left and hit the accelerator.

  The road was narrow and winding, hugging along the sides of the steep hills to his right. He came up on a sharp S turn and slowed. Debris littered the road just ahead of him giving him pause as it looked like the perfect place to get ambushed. He carefully maneuvered around everything taking notice of a small drive to the right that cut up the steep slope, he didn’t recognize it. The last turn was just ahead. He drove around it and came face to face with a roadblock. He slammed on the brakes. With the road being narrow, he couldn’t turn around, his only choice was to go back and pull into that driveway he remembered seeing. He put the truck into reverse and began to retreat.

  Bright lights kicked on and beamed down blinding him.

  From behind a large five-ton military truck approached, blocking the road and preventing him from exiting. He was trapped with nowhere to go. Frustrated at his predicament, he slammed on the brakes and cursed, “Shit!” He wasn’t going anywhere. Was this it? Had he driven his last mile? Not one to go out without a fight, he grabbed his rifle and readied himself for a gun fight.

  “TURN OFF THE ENGINE AND EXIT THE TRUCK. KEEP YOUR HANDS HIGH OR WE WILL SHOOT!” boomed a voice from a bullhorn.

  In front of him he counted eight shadowy figures approaching. He looked over his shoulder and through the rear gun port and saw some coming from behind.

  “TURN OFF THE ENGINE AND EXIT THE TRUCK. KEEP YOUR HANDS HIGH OR WE WILL SHOOT!”

  With only one choice, he did as they said. He turned off the truck’s engine, slowly opened the door and stuck his hands out to show he was unarmed.

  “STEP OUT, KEEP YOUR HANDS HIGH!”

  He did as they said. Once out he got a better visual. In front of him standing tall were eight armed men, all in uniform. Behind him he had the same.

  “WALK TO THE FRONT OF YOUR VEHICLE AND PLACE YOUR HANDS AND FACE ON THE HOOD.”

  He did as they ordered, praying they weren’t going to take him prisoner only to sell him into slave labor.

  Several men surrounded him. One came forward and patted him down. “All clear.”

  “Hey, who are you guys?” he asked.

  Someone stepped up behind him and said, “You can get off the hood.”

  “Thanks,” Kyle said wiping his hands and face off, then turned to see who had stopped him. Standing a foot away was an older man in a camouflage uniform. “Hi.”

  “Where you heading?” the man asked.

  Finding no reason to lie, he told them the truth. “I’m heading to Adelaide, it’s an old ghost town. I’m looking for a place to rest for the night.”

  “Where are you coming from?”

  “The Collective,” he answered. His curiosity grew as he looked closer at their uniforms. “Say who are you? You guys look, legit.”

  “We’ve heard reports the leader of The Collective is dead, is that true?”

  “Yes,” Kyle answered.

  “Are you just passing on rumors you’ve heard or do you really know?”

  “I really know because I’m the one who killed him.”

  A shocked look appeared on the man’s face. “You killed Xavier Smith?”

  “Yes,” Kyle replied.

  In the distance a man called out, “That means you’re Driver Eight.”

  Kyle looked and saw a man approaching. He walked slow and deliberate. When he got close the others stepped out of his way. He walked up and stopped directly in front of Kyle. “Who are you and why did you stop me?”

  “I’m Major Avery, but you sir, you’re the infamous Driver Eight,” Avery said holding out his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

  First he was being stopped and frisked, now he was being greeted with compliments. He took the man’s hand and shook. “Nice to meet you. Again, who are you?” Kyle asked motioning to all the soldiers and their vehicles.

  “I hear you’re trying to get to Adelaide. Well, it’s off limits, sorry.”

  “You’re not going to answer my question are you?”

  “I think we have the prerogative.”

  Kyle nodded. “Why is Adelaide off limits?”

  “On the account we’re using it as a staging ground,” Avery answered. His arms folded in front of him. On his shoulders he had patches, one an American flag and on the other a unit patch. On his chest he had his name tapped over one pocket and US ARMY, over the other.

  “Are you United States military?” Kyle asked, his tone clearly indicating he was shocked. “I thought you all had died off or disbanded. No one’s heard from anyone with the old government for…well, forever.”

  “We are the Uni
ted States Army and I can attest we haven’t disbanded and we’re all very much alive.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Cheyenne Mountain,” Avery replied.

  Kyle cracked a smile and chuckled. His chuckling quickly turned into laughter.

  Avery looked at Kyle strangely, his brow furrowed, “What’s so funny?”

  Kyle laughed so hard tears came to his eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Avery continued.

  “It’s a long, and I mean long story, but the irony of running into you guys now is comical.”

  “I’m happy you find this humorous,” Avery said, his tone signaling he was becoming annoyed with Kyle.

  Thoughts came of Tiffany and that fateful day. His laughter stopped as his face tightened and jaw

  clenched, “Where were you when we needed you?”

  “I don’t understand,” Avery said. “Are you feeling well?”

  “I fine…” Kyle said and paused as he thought. “Scratch that, I’m not fine. I’ve driven these roads for almost two decades. I’ve been everywhere but no sign of you. Now you show up? Why? People needed you and you weren’t there.”

  Avery broke eye contact with Kyle, he nodded and replied, “We’ve been regrouping.”

  “For nineteen years?”

  “It’s a long story,” Avery answered using Kyle’s own words.

  “What are you staging for?”

  “I’ll tell you what, come back to The Mountain. There we can debrief you on everything.”

  “I can’t do that. I don’t have time to waste. So I’ll say my goodbyes and head back south. I’ll let you boys do whatever you’re doing,” Kyle said turning around and opening the door to his truck.

  Avery nodded at a couple soldiers. They stepped towards Kyle, one slammed the door while the other took Kyle by the arm.

  Kyle chuckled and said, “Let me guess, you insist?”

  “Yeah, we’d like to talk to you about The Collective and what not,” Avery said.

  “There’s nothing I can say to convince you?” Kyle asked knowing his fate was all but sealed.

  “No and please, don’t make us force you.”

  Kyle pulled his arm forcibly away from the solider and stepped up to Avery. “You’re old enough to remember. Tell me, there was a message on loop telling survivors to go to a set of coordinates. Was that real?”

  Avery sighed and nodded, “It was. We took in an additional thousand before shutting it off about six weeks after. Why did you hear it?”

  “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Why didn’t you come?” Avery asked sincerely.

  Kyle didn’t answer. Once more thoughts came of Tiffany and that winding mountain pass. There wasn’t a day in the nineteen years since it happened that he hadn’t thought about it. Over and over he replayed the events trying to find an answer to the question of why. He blamed himself. If only they had left earlier, hell even later, if maybe they hadn’t stopped or if he had kept driving, just maybe he would have seen the warning signs and prevented it from happening. It was all a matter of space and time.

  “Driver Eight, why didn’t you come?” Avery repeated.

  Avery’s question interrupted Kyle’s troubled thoughts.

  “Driver Eight?”

  Kyle cracked a half smile and said, “I tried but you could say we ran into a little trouble. But now I’m here, after nineteen years. It must be some sort of fate, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Does that mean you’re going to come willingly?”

  “Of course.”

  “Follow me,” Avery said, holding his arm out for Kyle to follow.

  As the two men walked towards a Humvee on the far side of the roadblock, the thumping sounds of a helicopter’s rotor sounded overhead.

  Kyle looked up and smiled at the sight of the helicopter as ideas of how he could use one came rushing to him.

  “I’m sure the president is going to want to meet you,” Avery said.

  “There’s still a president?”

  “Yes, he’s new and the reason why we’re on the surface in force.”

  “So the US of A is back, huh?”

  “You could say that,” Avery replied.

  The men reached the Humvee but just before getting in Kyle asked, “My truck?”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll have it brought back to The Mountain and if you’re nice we might even detail it for you.”

  Avery picked up the handset of his radio and keyed it, “Charlie Mike Actual, this is Romeo Three Actual, come in over.”

  “This is Charlie Mike Actual.”

  “Be advised, I’m coming back to base with a package over. Please advise Rhino that we’ve secured a high value intelligence source and that he will want to be available for briefing.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Romeo Three Actual out,” Avery said putting he hand set down. He gave Kyle a pleasant look and asked. “What do I call you? You know, what’s your name?”

  “My name is…” Kyle said before stopping himself. Was he Kyle Grant anymore and if so, who was that or had he become someone else? If he answered honestly, he’d say, Kyle was the man who had failed two people he cared for most in the world. No, he wasn’t going to be that man anymore. When he was on the road driving, it wasn’t Kyle behind the wheel, it was Driver Eight. People didn’t know the name Kyle Grant, but everyone knew Driver Eight. That name was notorious and brought him respect and fear; two things one needed to survive on the open road. If he was going to see tomorrow and the day after, he was going to have to abandon Kyle and fully become who he was destined to be. He looked at Avery and said, “My name is Driver Eight.”

  THE END OF BOOK ONE

  BOOK TWO COMING NOVEMBER 30, 2017

  PRE-ORDER DRIVER 8: DEAD END HERE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  G. Michael Hopf is the best-selling author of fourteen post-apocalyptic novels. He is a veteran of the Marine Corps, former Executive Protection agent and whiskey aficionado. He lives with his family in San Diego, CA

  Please feel free to contact him.

  www.gmichaelhopf.com

  www.facebook.com/gmichaelhopf

  NOTE TO READERS

  Thank you for reading. If you have time, please leave a review. Your perspective is valuable and provides future readers information to make discernable choice as to what to read.

  BOOKS BY G. MICHAEL HOPF

  THE NEW WORLD SERIES

  THE END

  THE LONG ROAD

  SANCTUARY

  THE LINE OF DEPARTURE

  BLOOD, SWEAT, AND TEARS

  THE RAZOR'S EDGE

  THOSE WHO REMAIN

  DETACHMENT

  DETACHMENT BOOK ONE

  THE VAN ZANT CHRONICLES

  EXIT

  NEMESIS

  NEMESIS: INCEPTION

  OTHER BOOKS

  HOPE with A. American

  EXTINCTION CYCLE: MOTHER

  DAY OF RECKONING