by Brant, Jason
Voices came from inside the cabin as men ran in the front door.
“We don’t have a choice,” Brown said.
“I can’t do anything to that tank. We have to hope he doesn’t decide to use it.”
“Can he operate it by himself?”
“He can shoot it by himself, yeah.”
“Damn.” Brown didn’t want to ‘hope’ that the man wouldn’t use the tank. That was a foolhardy plan if ever there was one.
Eifort pointed at a tanker fifty yards away. “That’s where the guns are. I’ll climb in and grab them. You keep going. Get everyone into their vehicles. Most of them were ready when I heard you fire the shot.”
“Got it. Be careful.”
“You too.” Eifort pushed off the wall and sprinted for the truck, her ponytail swishing from side to side.
Brown followed. His legs, still heavy from the fight, didn’t carry him as quickly as Eifort and he fell behind.
“They’re out here!” The voice came from the left. Brown didn’t look, but he knew it came from the man in the tank. “Stop right there, or I’ll fucking shoot!”
They kept running.
Eifort reached the truck and tore the door open. She grabbed the silver handle on the side of the cab and pulled herself up into the seat, disappearing inside.
Brown ran past the grill, his fear and adrenaline keeping his fatigue from overtaking him. He needed to stay in the open, to keep the man in the tank’s attention so he wouldn’t destroy the truck Megan had climbed in.
Only a few people stood in the field. The others had abandoned the camp or were in their vehicles, waiting for the signal to leave. Brown spotted a group of fifteen standing by a fire near the solar array. They watched him run, but didn’t make any effort to join him.
When he’d spread the word of their impending flight, several people had told him flatly that they wouldn’t leave the camp. They felt safer there than they ever had out on the road, and they would take their chances. He’d tried to talk them out of it, but they wouldn’t have it.
Brown reached the first RV and saw a face staring at him through the windshield. He stopped in front of it, trying to get enough wind to yell loud so everyone could hear him.
“What’s going on, Doc?” The man in the RV stuck his head out of the driver’s side window. “Are we heading out?”
“Soon. Is everyone ready?” Brown wheezed.
“I think so, but—” The man’s face froze as he stared past Brown. He pulled his head inside the window again.
Brown spun around and saw the tank’s turret spinning toward him.
The back door of the cabin kicked open and two camouflaged men spilled out, shouting at Brown. They raised their rifles and took aim.
A shot rang out.
One of the men took a staggering step forward and fell to his knees. Another shot cracked. His head popped like a watermelon as his body spun and collapsed to the dirt.
The second man dove sideways as a third shot came from the tanker. He rolled and aimed his rifle at the truck, firing a dozen rounds.
“Megan!” Brown took a step toward the truck.
The barrel of the tank aimed at Brown, though it angled a few degrees over his head
He watched as it adjusted, lowering until it was point directly at his chest.
“Damn.”
Brown dove to the side as the tank rocked back, a thunderous roar coming from the barrel. Dust billowed in front it, hiding most of its bulk in a cloud.
The RV behind him exploded.
Chapter 27
Lance struggled to stay conscious.
He barely had the strength to hold his head up as he hid behind the truck.
A groan escaped his lips. He closed his mouth and shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. Liz gave him a look that could have stripped paint off a wall.
The Wildman was prone on the concrete behind the Bronco. He slowly reached into his pack and pulled out a .45 and two magazines. He carefully slid one home and racked the slide.
“How many can you see?” Liz whispered to Lance.
“I don’t have a good angle. At least eight, maybe more. You?”
“Same.”
“Can you hear what they’re saying?”
“No.”
Lance watched as two more men climbed out of one of the LAVs. They pulled equipment and guns from the vehicles, sorting them in the street. Other voices came from the Jeep that arrived first, but his view of the vehicle was obstructed.
Paul shimmied to his right, taking aim with the pistol. Lance assumed he was only aiming in case they were spotted. This was a battle they couldn’t win. If there was one thing Lance had learned about the Wildman, though, it was that the name fit. He did things that made little sense to Liz and Lance.
He prayed Paul wasn’t dumb enough to pop off a shot.
Lance’s shallow breathing caught when he watched Cass walking down the street with Joe and Adam.
Her eyes had bags under them, her hair flat. The usual color in her skin was gone, replaced by an ashy, drawn quality that Lance had never seen in her before.
She didn’t have her axe.
That alone told him that things weren’t going well with Colt and his band of jerk weeds.
Liz reached out and took his hand, giving it a small squeeze. Lance quietly let his breath out again. He’d held it at the sight of Cass, his emotions threatening to get the best of him. It had only been a few days since he’d seen her, but he’d worried about her during every waking second.
The group stood in the middle of the road and talked for several minutes. Cass, Joe, and Adam all picked up bags and tossed them over their shoulders. Colt held Cass’ axe, brandishing it in a taunting manner.
Sweat broke out on Lance’s forehead as he glared at the man who’d nearly killed him. He hated having to hide behind vehicles, rather than shoot the bastard where he stood.
After what seemed an eternity, the group left the street, walking along the side of a small, single-story home less than a block from what remained of Paul’s hideout. They disappeared around the back, leaving their vehicles and a few bags.
Paul stood, brushing dust from pants. “Well, I didn’t see that coming. I suppose they’re gonna try and take out the nest n’at. Should give us a chance to get the hell out of here.”
“Won’t they hear our engines if we start the cars?” Liz asked as she got up.
“Probably,” Paul said. He wrinkled his nose as he thought about it. “Might be something we can do about that though.”
Lance cleared his throat. “Anyone care to help me up here?”
“Oh, yeah.” Paul bent down, taking Lance by the elbow. He grabbed hold and heaved Lance to his feet.
Lance sucked in a breath between gritted teeth. He couldn’t keep going for much longer. His chest hurt like hell, and he felt as if he might pass out.
“You two stay here,” Paul said. “Keep a look out in case those jagoffs come back. Whistle if you see somethin’.”
Lance leaned against the truck and watched Paul sneak down the road, moving toward the Jeep. He was hunched over, as if that somehow made him disappear, even though he wasn’t behind any cover.
He got to the Jeep and opened the passenger door. Leaning inside for a moment, he reappeared and held something up for Lance and Liz to see. Keys glinted in early morning sunlight. His toothy grin couldn’t have been much bigger.
Everyone left their vehicles unlocked, the keys dangling from the ignition nowadays. It wasn’t as if anyone was around to steal them.
Paul tossed the keys over the roof of the house behind him and then jogged back to the second vehicle, an LAV. He stood in front of it, scratching his head for a moment, before running back to Liz.
“Open your bag up,” he whispered. “I got two padlocks in there.”
“Padlocks? What? Why?” Liz gaped at him. “Why in God’s name would you have me lugging around padlocks?”
“I don’t have time to p
lay twenty questions, woman. Give me the damn locks.” He looked to Lance. “They ain’t got a keyed ignition, so I gotta do something else to slow ‘em down.”
Liz grumbled as she rooted through the bag before brandishing the locks. She slammed them into his open hands without saying a word. Though she’d softened a lot since the events at the hospital, Lance could still see some of the bitchy tendencies he’d dealt with over the past decade.
With the locks in hand, Paul jogged back to the first LAV and climbed to the top. The hatch was open. He quietly closed it, then secured it in place with the padlock.
Lance grinned over at Liz. “He comes across like a dumb redneck, but the man knows his shit.”
“He definitely does. He’s still a pain in my ass though.”
The Wildman repeated the same procedure with the other LAV before taking the keys from the last vehicles and tossing them away. He came back to the Bronco, still grinning. “That’s gonna piss ‘em off when they get back. Even if they hear us start the truck, we’ll be long gone before they can shoot those locks off. Here, take these. You’ll need ‘em since this bastard has a flat.” He handed a lone set of keys to Lance. “It’s for the Suburban at the back of the line.”
Lance watched the side of the house where Cass had disappeared. He had no idea how he could get her away from those men.
“Throw the bags in the back,” Paul told Liz. “I’m going to take some of the supplies out of the truck with the flat and put it in this one. Then we’re gone.”
“Do you have an extra pistol I can use?” Lance asked. “I need to go get Cass.”
Liz had the back door open and was throwing a bag in when she stopped. “You can’t fight off all of those men.”
“She’s why I needed the truck to get to the camp. She’s here now, so I might as well do what I can here. He has more men at the compound.”
“But you can barely stand, let alone take out half a dozen men.”
Lance shrugged, but didn’t argue. He didn’t know how he’d do it, only that he had to try.
Liz turned to Paul. “We have to help him.”
“The hell we do. If he wants to get himself killed, that’s his business.”
“But—”
“He’s right, Liz,” Lance said. “You’ve done enough. Get out of here. I do have two requests though, Mr. Wildman.”
Paul sighed. “What? I don’t have time for this shit.”
“First, I need a pistol.”
“Fine.” Paul handed his over, along with an extra magazine. “What else? Can I go out and get you a pizza while I’m at it? Maybe a foot massage?”
“Help me get across the street and hidden beside that house. When you start the truck, give it three loud honks. I’ll be hiding when the men come to see what’s going on, and I should be able to get the jump on them.”
“That’s a stupid plan,” Paul said. “Gonna get you killed and bring extra attention on me.”
“Paul, stop being an asshole.” Liz closed the door and looked at Lance. “Of course we can do that. I’ll help you go now.”
“Yinz think I’m the asshole? I’m keepin’ everyone alive, and I’m the asshole?” He kept grumbling to himself as he moved gear from one Bronco to the next. “This is what I get for breaking my own damned rules.”
Liz lifted Lance’s right arm and draped it over her shoulder. They walked across the street at an agonizingly slow pace. Tears fell from Liz’s chin as they stepped onto the lawn of the house Cass had disappeared behind. “I feel like I’m leaving you here to die.”
“You aren’t. You’re giving me a chance to get revenge and save Cass.” Lance wedged himself behind an overgrown bush, trying his best not to rustle the branches. He kept his voice just above a whisper as he leaned close to Liz’ ear. “Now get out of here and stay close to Paul. He’s tough and smart. He’ll keep you safe.”
“He’s going to make me jump out of an airplane.”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t crazy.” Lance felt a coughing fit coming on and held a hand to his chest while he rode it out. The tickle in his throat disappeared after a few seconds. “No matter what you hear while you’re driving away, don’t come back. You hear me?”
Liz nodded. A watery sheen covered her eyes. She opened her mouth, but closed it again before she said anything.
Muffled voices came from behind the house.
Lance held his finger to his lips and then pointed at Paul. He gave her a small wave as she backed away, her tears coming even faster. She waved back before turning and running down the driveway. She jumped in the passenger seat of the Bronco.
Paul sat behind the wheel. He gave Lance a tiny salute.
Then he started the truck.
Chapter 28
Cass kneeled before the large hole behind the house. Her fingers curled over the edge, dirt working its way under her nails.
The stench of spoiled meat wafted from the tunnel. More of the odd mewling sound came to them.
“Hop on in,” Colt said. “No point in wasting time.”
“You haven’t told us where we’re going.” Cass stood and turned back to him. “What’s down there? How far do we have to go?”
Colt twisted the handle of her axe in his hand, making the blade spin. “We don’t know for certain, but we believe the nest is closest to this tunnel based on all the activity around it.”
“Where is the helicopter anyway?” Adam asked. Most of the color had drained from his face as they neared the hole. It was clear to Cass that he had little interest in going down there. She couldn’t blame him—this wasn’t what she had in mind either.
“Pittsburgh. He had to refuel.”
Colt’s men stood around him. There weren’t many of them, but they were all armed with rifles and shit-eating grins.
The day of their arrival, she’d been impressed with Colt and his small entourage. Now, she couldn’t wait to get away from them. Their aggression and cavalier attitudes had her on edge.
Joe spat in the dirt. “What are we going to find down there?”
“Maybe you should ask the woman who walked right into a nest in Pittsburgh.” Colt gestured to Cass. “I’m surprised she never told you about it.”
Everyone turned to her, waiting.
“That was over a month ago. Adam was there too. Things have changed since then, but it was a real shit show in the subway. Bones and bodies were everywhere. The Vladdies were asleep then, but they woke up while we were planting explosives and damn near killed us. Just be prepared to see some awful things and keep calm, no matter what.” She shrugged at Colt. “That’s all I’ve got. Let’s get this over with.”
Colt pointed at the hole with her axe. “After you.”
“Give me the axe back first.”
“I don’t think so. I’d rather not have you jam it in my back.”
Cass glanced at the sky and frowned. The sun had already begun its march toward midmorning. Daylight was burning, and she had a long way to go. She turned and lowered herself into the hole, feet first.
She spun around, facing the men watching her. Her hands held the edge as she continued down, her feet dangling over nothing. When she was fully stretched out, her hands above her head, she let go and dropped the last few feet. She landed on the slope and slid along it, stopping in the middle.
Darkness yawned ahead.
“Bag.” Cass held her hands up, and Joe tossed her pack down. She caught it before kneeling down and reaching inside. She pulled a flashlight out and clicked it on, pushing the shadows further into the tunnel.
After pulling the pack over her shoulder, she walked a few feet further, having to hunch at the waist to fit. Thuds came from behind as the others followed. She waited there as everyone got their own lights out.
Three of Colt’s men stayed behind. Cass didn’t bother asking what they were doing.
Colt came up beside her. “Lead the way.”
“I don’t know where I’m going.”
“None of us do. L
ead the way.” He turned back to his men. “Don’t fire unless you have to. I’ll take point with Cass and use the axe if anything spots us.”
Cass saw fear pass over Joe’s eyes as he twisted the cap of his flashlight, turning it on. His hands shook. Adam, though calmer, had a slight tremble in his hands. At least they didn’t have Greg with them again. The moron had nearly gotten them killed the last time.
The sound was louder there. Cass turned toward it and started moving. Her quads burned after twenty yards from having to walk with bent knees.
The darkness swallowed them as they went. The walls danced under the shadows from their lights.
Cass followed a curve in the tunnel to the left, fighting off cramps that threatened to overwhelm her legs. She paused and dropped to a knee, rubbing her quads. Colt stopped beside her, staying in a squat position. His face showed no signs of discomfort, though sweat covered his bald head.
A separate tunnel broke away, snaking off to the left. Cass held her light into the opening, but couldn’t see anything besides dirt walls. Colt cut his hand toward the opening and looked at his soldiers.
Two of them broke away from the group and slipped down the side tunnel, moving quietly. Each had a bag of explosives hanging on their backs.
Colt gestured for Cass to keep going.
The sound grew louder, the stench less palatable as they continued forward.
The tunnel opened up after another twenty steps, the walls sloping away. Cass slipped to the left, following the wall, not wanting to walk further into the darkness, afraid of losing her bearings. If they needed to flee, she had to keep track of which direction they headed, what turns they took.
Colt whispered, “Keep your lights pointed low. Don’t let the beams wander.”
Another odor wafted to them as they inched forward—rotting meat. Cass had to breathe through her mouth. She closed her eyes for a moment, fighting the urge to retch.
Her foot bumped something and she paused, looking down.
A limbless torso stood against the wall, the severed neck pointing up. She could see the white backbone sticking free of the meat. Flies buzzed around.
