She had made up her mind back in Rochester. She had simply hidden nearby, and followed Mike, Dave, and Lisa. Long before they had actually left the city limits, she had known that they would, and had doubled back to assemble her own party to follow.
Mike may have naively assumed that Gina belonged to him, or was devoted to him maybe, but the truth was far from that. Although no one had dared to tell him, Gina had been sleeping with more than half the guys on the north side. Not because of the sex, that had never really been a part of it. Her sexual preferences tended to lean in a different direction. It was more because she didn't think Mike, or Dave, had even the slightest chance of getting close to the top, and so she had been slowly working her way in that direction, sleeping with whomever she had to, to get there. She had in fact ended up one step away with the creepy red-haired kid, Alfred, but after he had been killed, and Willie had not returned, she had only been waiting to see who would emerge to replace them, so she could set her sights on the new target.
She shuddered now, as she drove along, at the thought of Alfred. He really had been creepy. Even to her. Even knowing the why of it hadn't helped her to get through it. The only thing that had helped was the absolute certainty that it would be worthwhile in the end. She would end up closer to Willie, possibly even with him.
Of course now it was too late. That bitch Lisa had seen to that, she told herself. But the contacts she had made on the way up, served her well nonetheless, and she had managed to stir up better than a hundred men and women to give chase, and that was before the Thing had happened.
The Thing, whatever it had been, she was unsure, had only served to sharpen her resolve and solidify her anger. Instead of a burning desire to catch them, a raging inferno now resided within her. The thing had also allowed her to know things. To know that there was a way to stay alive. After The Thing had happened, the change in her had been apparent to everyone, and when she had told them they were going to set out after the others, no one argued with her at all. Instead they did what they were told, and tried not to look directly at her when she spoke, there was something about her eyes, something in her eyes.
They had left no more than a half hour after Mike and the others had, and if the roadblock had been able to hold them just a tiny bit longer, she would have had them then. Even so, they had spotted them in the distance several miles before they had reached the end of the thruway, and had stayed back a few miles so as not to be seen. Gina had laughed at that. Mike had never thought to look behind him, worried instead about what was ahead.
She hadn't been able to get close enough to get a clear idea of how many people he had with him. That bitch Lisa that was for sure, maybe a few others. Not Dave and not quite a few others he had left with, the bodies at the roadblock had not escaped her attention. Maybe ten, maybe less, she had decided, they only had three trucks, so it couldn't be much more than that.
The small convoy stopped only briefly after pulling off what had been the thruway, and then only long enough for Gina to make it clear to all of them what she wanted to do. They would wait until Mike's group had located the others. There could be no gunfire that would warn them at all. Once they were all together, they would attack them. Not stupidly either, but from a distance, pick them off, pin them down, make them give in. She also made it clear that she wanted to deal with Lisa herself, on a personal basis, and she made it clear just how angry she would be if she were somehow denied that privilege. After she had finished, they had begun to follow, hanging back, so as not to come upon them too quickly.
Opposition Forming
When Mike felt sure he was far ahead of the group on foot, he angled back toward the river, stopped, and set up camp.
While he knew that there were several people on foot, he had no clear idea exactly how many there were. He had assumed, correctly, that the buses had brought them, but had assumed incorrectly that the trucks had only been part of the stalled thruway traffic.
He expected a fight, a fight that he knew would be almost impossible to win, but he expected that fight to be against only a small group of perhaps a hundred people at the most, not the nearly eight hundred that were approaching.
The others with him knew nothing about his planned confrontation. He had told them, and they believed, that they were only going to try to join with them, try to reason their way into the group, and Mike did intend to approach them on that basis, but only so that he could get close enough to try to take out their leaders. No, Mike, Frank. Take out Frank, his mind whispered.
"Okay, okay, Frank," he whispered as he drove along.
Mike had never been really good in the brains department, and the anger he felt clouded the entire issue even further. He expected that if he were able to take out Frank, maybe a few of the others too, the rest of them would simply give up, and he also expected that the people with him would jump into the fight once he began to fire, and when it was over, he would have Jessie. She would see, see plainly that she had made a huge mistake. Most likely she would beg for him to take her back, and, of course, he would.
It was a stupid, ill thought out plan, that had little chance of success, but to Mike it was a stroke of genius, and he could see no other outcome at all.
Either way it made no difference, he never got the chance to attempt it.
Gina's group, believing they had by-passed Mike, swung back toward the river too soon, and instead of coming up behind them, they came back to the river in front of them, and only slightly in front of them at that. Mike had caught sight of them as they had angled toward the river, almost at the same time Gina had realized her mistake.
Except Mike, there had been no real fight. The others had thrown down their weapons even as Gina had spotted them. Mike had been taken out while they were yet some distance away, when he had begun to shoot in their direction. A high powered rifle had done the job neatly. None of his shots had come even close. The trucks circled them, and then came to a stop. Gina walked directly to Lisa.
"Looks like there's no one to protect you this time, you little bitch," Gina said with a smile as she stopped in front of Lisa. Before Lisa could reply, Gina clubbed her to the ground with the rifle she held. "Pick her up!" she spat, turning to one of the men that had been riding with her. Put her in my truck, and tie her up so she can't get away when she comes to." The man obediently scooped up the unconscious woman and carried her to the truck. Gina was far from satisfied though.
The other group had more than likely heard the gunfire, she thought, and so the element of surprise was gone.
In addition to the rifle, she also carried a fully automatic machine pistol, and as she turned back toward the remaining members of Mike's group she pulled it from her waist band, still smiling, flicked off the safety, and before they became fully aware of what she intended to do she mowed them down.
All but one died instantly. A young man having been gravely wounded, but not killed outright, lay moaning on the ground. As he turned his face from the ground to look at Gina, she leveled the pistol, switched to single shot and as the young man began to speak, shot him in the head. Blood and brain tissue flew, his body jerked, and then lay still. The cold smile lit her face, as she turned and walked back to the lead truck.
Lisa lay slumped on the front seat, the young man that had been riding with Gina crowded in beside her. "Get out, or I'll kill you too," Gina snapped. He quickly scrambled out and climbed into one of the other trucks, secretly glad to be away from her.
Gina reached over and placed her fingertips lightly against Lisa's neck, and was rewarded with a strong steady pulse. She smiled, and her hand slipped from Lisa's neck, beneath her shirt and cupped one breast, caressing the nipple. "Did I tell you I like girls?" she whispered, as she withdrew her hand, and dropped the trucks shift lever into drive.
She turned the truck around and began to head back along the river searching for the others. There was no sense in waiting now, she thought, better to take them head on, and get it over with. She looked
over at Lisa. Then I can take you on, she thought, and smiled again.
Second in Command
In Rochester, the ones who had chosen to stay were regretting their decision. They were under attack, and they had no one to guide them, no place to hide.
Shortly after Luther had popped back into the control room, he had called the house on Hudson Avenue. Kelvin Jones, along with several hundred others, had gathered at the house believing that Willie would return, and that when he did he would tell them what to do. When the phone inside the house had begun to ring, he had sprinted for it, and picked it up on the second ring.
He had never spoken to Luther, although Luther seemed to know who he was. He had, though, stood by several times when Luther had spoken to Willie, and was more than eager to carry out Luther's orders.
"Yes-sir," he had replied nervously, as Luther had finished speaking, "I'll see to it sir." He left the house and went back out to the crowd, and a few short minutes later they were walking toward the south side, heavily armed. Luther had told him that they were to leave no one alive, and he had no intention of screwing up, in fact he was looking forward to it. He relished being in control, and envisioned himself ruling the entire city once he carried out Luther's orders. He knew he would, because Luther had told him, had promised him. It didn't occur to him that there would be very few left to rule, or that he might not live through it. He thought only of the end result, and of following through with Luther's orders.
He daydreamed as they approached the south side, about just how he would set things up when he took control. There were still several people at the barricades when they approached, but they were quickly cut down. The rest of the city offered little resistance, thinking foolishly that they would not kill them if they threw down their weapons. Some saw the massacre that greeted them, and fled, hiding wherever they could. But in less than an hour, King Kelvin, as he now thought of himself, was firmly in control. He had sent out groups to track down the remaining people, and once they were caught, and executed, the city would be his. He installed himself in the War Memorial, and waited for Luther's phone call.
Frank and Jessie
Jeremiah, and several others, saw the cloud of dust in the distance ahead of them, long before they were actually able to see the trucks.
They had all hoped, at first, that it had something to do with the boats they were looking for, even so, in their hearts they knew better. No one spoke. No one needed to. Instead, they quickly headed for the only cover that was available, a small stand of trees about thirty yards from the edge of the river, and took refuge there.
The trucks stopped a half mile away, and for several minutes there was absolute silence. Just as the sun began to sink, the first shots came. The battle began.
Frank, Jessie, and Jeremiah, had been standing at the front of a line of trees, barely inside them, watching the trucks in the fading light. Jessie heard the crack of the rifle shot, muffled by distance, just an instant before Frank fell to the ground.
Horror struck, she grabbed his hands and dragged him further into the woods. Even as she released his hands, and bent down beside him sobbing, she knew that he was badly wounded. The single bullet had taken him squarely in the chest, and he was losing far too much blood.
Jeremiah hurried to her side, after he realized how badly Frank had been injured. Still, it didn't fully hit him until he dropped down beside him on the ground. Around them bullets whizzed through the trees, and some of their own began to return fire. Between them they managed to sit him up, resting his back against one of the moss covered tree trunks. Sitting up helped somewhat, his breathing did even out, but a huge amount of blood began to seep from his wounded chest.
Jessie was sure he was going to speak. Convinced he would, when his eyes suddenly slipped shut, and he sagged back down to the ground. She tried to pull him back up. "No," she cried, as she tugged at his body. But he was too heavy, she couldn't move him, and he finally slipped all the way to the ground.
Jimmy had run forward when the first shot had rang out, and Gary had been about to join him when he had seen Frank fall. He too had hurried to his side. As he watched, Sandy Watson gently pushed Jessie aside and began to work feverishly on Frank. Sandy was their only hope for Frank, he knew. She knew a little, but the wound looked mortal, and Gary became convinced that Frank was going to die. Might already be dead, he told himself, and if Frank died, was Jessie was going to fall apart? He was surprised when she suddenly stood, angrily brushed at the tears that streamed from her eyes, and headed back toward the front of the trees. Gary followed, Jeremiah behind him. It wasn't fair, Gary thought, it had happened too damn fast. He hadn't even been able to say good bye. None of them had. Tears stained his cheeks, as he lifted his own rifle and began to fire at the trucks. Jeremiah stood beside him, Jessie to his other side, and as the light began to fade completely they did their best to take out as many of the others as they could.
The others, whoever they were, had the advantage, Jeremiah thought. They had the trucks to hide behind, and he was sure that a rifle scope could pick them out easily between the trees. He did his best to melt into the tree beside him, concentrated on their heads, and whenever one popped into his sights he squeezed the trigger.
Jessie was carrying a fully automatic machine gun, and two spare two hundred round clips. She sighted on one of the trucks and watched as the truck began to be chewed apart. Squeeze, release, squeeze, release, the truck began to resemble a junk yard relic within seconds.
Gary mowed down the occupants of that truck when they tried to flee, and had just sighted the last one, squeezed the trigger and watched him fall, when he heard Jimmy call out a short distance away. He turned quickly, his eyes searching frantically, but it was next to impossible to see in the shadows. He started to turn back when one of the bullets caught him. No sound at all, just a brief stinging sensation. He stumbled backwards, tried to think about what could have possibly happened, and then slumped to the ground.
The gunfire began to taper off within seconds, as darkness prevented both sides from seeing well enough to shoot, and then stopped all together. Jessie slipped a full clip into the machine gun before she backed further into the woods with Jeremiah. Neither of them had seen Gary, or Jimmy go down, or the twenty others that had gone down with them. People moved aimlessly between their fallen comrades checking to see if they could in some way help them. Most were beyond help though.
Jeremiah found Gary, and then Jimmy a few seconds later. Gary had taken a bullet in the meaty part of one thigh, and quickly waved Jeremiah away as he bent to examine him. "I'm fine I'm okay, check on Jimmy."
Jimmy was still alive, but it was clear to Jeremiah that he would not live more than a few seconds longer. He sat down next to him, and cradled his head in his lap. Jessie eased down close, pushing a thick bunch of hair from his eyes. Jimmy managed a tight smile as he spoke in a near whisper. "I always thought it would be empty. It isn't though, not at all, Sarah's here," he said between rapid breaths. The smile fled, pain rippled across his face. "At least I'm not afraid to go now," he finished and tried to smile once more.
"No need to be," Jeremiah said huskily, unable to hold back his tears. Jessie took one of Jimmy's hands, tried to speak, but could not find any words to say, they simply would not come. She wept instead and picked tiny bits of leaves out of his hair.
"Who's Sarah, Jimmy?" Jeremiah asked softly.
Jimmy didn't try to speak again, or if he had intended to he didn't get the chance. He drew in a deep breath, and released it slowly. His chest did not rise again, and his eyes slipped partially shut. Jeremiah carefully laid his head down, reached over, pulled Jessie to him, and they both stood up together. They held each other for a few seconds, and then helped Gary to his feet. The three of them walked deeper into the woods to check on Frank.
Sandy was still bent over him, wrapping his chest tightly as they walked up.
"Is he...?" Jessie started.
"It's not good," Sandy re
plied gravely, "but it's not as bad as it could be. He hit his head a good one when he fell, that's mainly why he's out, and the bullet tore him up pretty good. He's lost a lot of blood, but..." she stood and walked to Jessie. "You can't help him now, honey, we'll just have to wait and see."
Jessie nodded solemnly, and as Sandy turned her attention to Gary, Jeremiah offered his hand. "Pray with me?" he asked. She took his hand gratefully and began to pray quietly with him.
Once they were finished they pushed aside their grief, and began to discuss their next move. Since the gunfire had stopped they had heard nothing from the direction of the trucks at all. That didn't, however, Jeremiah pointed out, mean that they weren't sneaking toward them on foot. They took a few minutes to collect themselves, and then walked back toward the front of the trees. They hung back in the shadows, close enough only to peer through them and watch. If they did approach on foot, they would have a hard time reaching them without being seen. The moon was bright and full as it began to rise, and although they could not see the trucks, they had a fairly good view for a hundred yards in either direction.
Gina
Gina's group had not suffered as many losses as the other group had, but there was no sadness over those they had lost. She had wisely fallen back as they had spotted the other group heading for the trees, and allowed several of the other trucks to pull ahead. Those trucks had created a formidable shield, and prevented most of the return fire from reaching them. They had sacrificed perhaps eight people, and to Gina it was more than worth it. She had no way of knowing how many of the people in the woods they had taken out, but she was positive she herself had taken out six, so she assumed it to be quite a lot more than the losses they had suffered.
The darkness was now the problem. They did have a handful of rifles equipped with infrared scopes, and she quickly distributed them to the better marksmen among her group, keeping one for herself. The others however had retreated well back into the trees and so for the time being the rifles were of no use at all. They would venture out though, Gina knew, and in the mean time she had Lisa to divert her attention. Little miss perfect, she thought, as she stood behind one of the trucks staring at the trees in the distance.
Earth's Survivors: box set Page 206
