I looked up, and saw the barrel of an assault rifle peek over the bar. I acted fast and without a plan. I just followed my instincts.
I holstered my pistol, and what happened next happened in a swift, fluid motion. I reached up and grabbed the barrel of the assault rifle and pulled it down. The gun flew out of the Rove’s hand, and the man stumbled closer to me. I raised my knife and plunged it into the Rove’s chest. The flesh gave way beneath the force of my blade, filling me with a sickening but satisfying sensation.
I pulled the knife out and stabbed the Rove a couple more times in quick succession. He fell to the ground in a bloody heap, my knife still in his chest. I didn’t have the chance to pull it out. I looked up, and the other Rove was standing from his crouched position beneath a table just fifteen feet away, just now realizing what was going on.
He reached for his weapon. I climbed up on the bar and leaped through the air, tackling the Rove to the ground. The impact knocked his assault rifle out of his hands, sending it flying across the ground, coming to a halt beneath a nearby table.
I punched the man in the face hard. A spurt of blood came from his nose, and I punched him again.
He was getting his bearings now though, and my element of surprise was all but gone. He used the momentum from my next punch against me, and when I swung, he moved his head out of the way. My fist hit the hard wooden ground, and the Rove pushed me off him.
He climbed on top of me, pinning me to the ground. Blood flowed from his nose, dripping in his beard. Drops of it fell on my forehead as he began to pummel my face. His punches came fast and hard, and I began to see black spots in my vision.
I got my hands out from under him and gave him a weak punch to the face. I didn’t have enough room to throw a real one. I grabbed a handful of his hair and slammed his head into a chair next to us. He grabbed his head in pain, and I pushed him off me.
He fell face first on the ground, so I climbed on top of him and grabbed more of his hair. I slammed his head into the ground.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
He shouted and grunted in pain, but I ignored him. All I could think about was what he represented. His people were the ones who took everything from me. They killed Ashley. They killed my home. They tried to kill me.
I smashed his head a few more times. I had every intention of continuing, but then something slammed into me, knocking me off the man.
I slid across the ground, taken aback by a new attacker. I looked up and saw that my attacker was the man I’d stabbed to death just moments before. He’d already turned into a zombie, and since he’d just turned, he had all the strength and speed of the man he just was moments before. His glazed-over, bloodshot, dead eyes looked into mine, and all he wanted at that moment was a meal. Me.
The zombie lunged at me, and I put my arms up to protect myself. I knocked the zombie to the side before it reached me, and it slammed into some tables. I scrambled to my feet and reached for the pistol in my holster.
The zombie got up and lunged at me again, knocking my pistol from my hand. It tackled me to the ground. I put my hands around its throat, keeping its face away from mine. It snapped at my face, trying with all its might to sink its teeth into me.
I was squeezing its throat as hard as I could. The zombie was strong, and it was taking everything I could to keep it off me. I looked to my right and saw my pistol sitting there, but it was too far away for me to reach. I looked down and saw that the knife I’d killed the man with was still deep within his chest, blood dripping from it.
I reached down with my right hand and pulled the knife from the zombie’s chest. Now I only had one hand holding it back, so it came even closer to biting into my face. I reached back and plunged the knife into the side of the zombie’s head. It stopped trying to eat me, dying instantly.
I pushed the zombie off me, and pulled the knife from its head. I cleaned the knife off on my already bloody shirt, and put it back in its holster. I picked up my pistol and did the same.
I scanned the room and took in all the damage I’d caused. Blood was everywhere, tables and chairs were turned over and knocked aside, and there were two dead bodies in the floor.
I stepped over the Rove’s body whose head I smashed in and began walking toward the back door.
Two down, four to go.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Miles
I stepped out the back door of the diner and walked to the edge of the building. The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across Garner. I was thankful for the cover of darkness, but hoped I wouldn’t need it. I hoped Ulysses, Victor, and the rest of the guys had taken out some of the Roves. In either case, regrouping with them was my next move.
I peeked around the corner of the building and saw one of the trucks backing up. I ran down the side of the building to get a look at what was going on.
I reached the edge, looked around the side, and saw the Rove truck at the very front shoot backwards in reverse, sending up a large cloud of dust. It sped off in the distance, leaving Garner behind.
I stepped out into the road and looked around. Two of the trucks were still there with people in the back.
Trevor came running from down the street and fired a couple of shots at the fleeing Roves, but they all missed. I ran to his side, and the two of us stood in the middle of the road, watching the two Roves flee.
“Where are the others?” I asked him.
“Other Roves? Victor and Ulysses took out one of the teams. I got a shot off on one of that team,” he said pointing at the direction the truck just drove off in. “But they got the jump on me. Kept me pinned down until they were able to escape. I don’t know about the ones in the third truck.”
“I took care of them. They’re in the diner.”
“I’m guessing they’re not tied up in there,” Trevor said as he turned and began walking back toward the house.
“Not quite,” I said as I followed him. “Did you get a chance to talk to them?”
“The two who came into the house started demanding that people come with them. I came out of the office, and we started fighting. What are they taking people for?”
“Slaves,” I said.
“What do they need so many slaves for? Why bother coming all the way out here for them?”
“I don’t know,” I said. We walked up the steps and stood on the front porch of the main house. “But the Roves have an empire. They own Dallas, all the skyscrapers downtown, everything. Their army is huge, and they need slaves to keep their empire sustained. They’re probably running low and are having to expand their search for people. That’s probably why they were only taking a few at a time when they came out here. I doubt they were expecting to run into a place like this all the way out here. Weren’t expecting so many people.”
Trevor sighed and kicked at the ground. “Having people like that all the way out here can complicate things. If they come across something we don’t want them to,” he said, referring to the bunker and hatches, “it could be bad for all parties involved.”
I nodded my head. “Trust me, you don’t want these guys taking your home from you. They were all over Jefferson Memorial, and who knows what they’re doing with it. A place like where you guys live? I don’t even wanna know what they could do with that power.”
Trevor smirked. “Don’t worry, I think we’ll be able to hold them off. Besides, our place was made to be hidden. I doubt some gang could find us that easily.”
I believed him. As long as nothing like the Ronoss incident happened again, it would be a very long time before somebody found the bunker again, if ever.
“Speaking of which,” Trevor said. “We’d better start heading back. It’s getting late.”
“We’re just going to leave Garner like this?” I said.
“Ulysses and Victor are staying the night just to keep an eye on things. You and Cody are coming back with me.”
I sighed. Trevor didn’t trust me
enough to stay in Garner for the night. To be fair, had he done so, I probably would’ve sneaked out and made my way to Jefferson Memorial. I didn’t bother fighting him. I needed to play by his rules until the best opportunity presented itself.
If one didn’t present itself soon, though, I was just going to have to make one.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Daniel
Daniel walked along the road with Andrew. He told him what-all had happened to him over the past few days, and Andrew listened, his eyes wide.
“You did all that? You took on a Xenomortis and everything?!” Andrew practically shouted.
“Shh!” Daniel said, putting a finger to his mouth. “You wanna let all the Roves know we’re here? But yeah, I did.”
Andrew looked up at him with the biggest smile. “That’s so awesome. I thought Miles was the tough one.”
Daniel chuckled. “Trust me, Miles can be the tough one all he wants. I’m perfectly okay with that.”
“I wish I knew where he was at,” Andrew said. “Sorry I couldn’t help you with that. I hope he’s okay.”
“I hope so, too, buddy.”
“She said she’d be camping out in there,” Ira said from the front of the group. She pointed toward the First Baptist Church.
They walked toward the church when something caught Daniel’s eye. Sitting in the parking lot was Mila’s Range Rover. Daniel broke out in a run for it, everybody else running close behind.
“What is it, Daniel?” Andrew asked when they came to a stop in front of it.
Daniel opened the door and began searching inside. “This is the vehicle Miles took when they were coming to scout Jefferson Memorial,” Daniel said. “They could’ve left something behind.”
Andrew ran to the passenger side, opened the door, and began searching around as well. The searched under the seats, on the dash, in the door—everywhere. Nothing.
Daniel hit the steering wheel in frustration. “Not a single damn thing.”
“Whoa, anger management, please,” a voice said from behind Daniel.
Daniel recognized it instantly, but it couldn’t be whom he thought. He turned around, and she stood just a few feet away from him. He was at a loss for words. It really was her. “Ashley? You’re supposed to be dead.”
Ashley smirked. “You too, Dan.”
Chapter Fifty
Miles
We walked through the woods, the sun almost completely gone in the sky. I kept looking over my shoulder, unable to fight the creeping feeling that an atra was going to come out of nowhere and melt me. I knew one was around somewhere since there was that one in the cave. I doubted it knew the bunker was there, but still, the fact that it was in the bunker entrance was unsettling.
“You did good today,” Trevor said to me. “It went off the rails and definitely wasn’t what I had planned, but you kept your cool and saved a couple of lives while you were at it. I’m impressed.”
“Just part of living on the outside,” I said. “Gotta be ready to adapt.”
“Well, you’re very skilled. In both adapting and in combat,” Trevor said.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. I just wanted to get back to the bunker, take a shower, and sleep for a long time. After thinking that, I immediately felt guilty. I didn’t know what the people at Jefferson Memorial were going through, and all I cared about was being able to take a shower and sleep in a bed. Only one of those things were luxuries I had before the bunker, and even then there were times where I didn’t even have a bed.
I looked around the woods as I walked, except instead of looking for hostiles, I took everything in. The smell of the trees, the crickets chirping, the rustling in the leaves as a rabbit ran by. I couldn’t forget it. It was a part of me, and no matter how long I stayed in the bunker, that couldn’t be taken away. I figured I’d only be in the bunker for the night, and the next day Trevor, Cody, and I would go and check on Garner. Still, I couldn’t let my guard down for those few hours. I was afraid of something going wrong inside there; I was afraid of something going wrong in my head. That I would get spoiled by the luxuries and forget about my main mission—saving Jefferson Memorial.
“Almost there, guys,” Trevor said, breaking me from my train of thought.
I looked ahead, and could see the cave that led to the bunker. We were close enough to it that we could have been walking over one of the corridors, which I found unsettling. Hundreds of feet below me was a city where people were going about their normal day. It was too weird for me to think about for too long.
Trevor and Cody entered the cave up ahead and almost completely disappeared into the darkness. My eyes hadn’t adjusted when I stepped into the cave, so I was caught off guard when Trevor pulled me to the ground and behind a part of the cave wall that stuck out a bit.
He put a finger up to his lips, telling me to stay quiet. He pointed toward the back wall, and I stuck my head out to see what was going on.
At the back were a group of men. They were speaking into a part of the wall.
“They know there’s a camera there,” Cody whispered. “How do they know there’s a camera there?” Panic grew in his voice.
Trevor shot him a look, shutting him up.
“…someone out so we can chat. We just want a little chat,” the leader of the group said. “Maybe you’ve heard of us? We like to call ourselves the Roves. If that rings any bells, you know you’re going to want to send someone out. It’s what’s best for you.”
My eyes grew wide, and my chest constricted. I turned to Trevor, and his face was filled with dread.
“This is not good,” Trevor whispered.
I swallowed hard, trying to wet my dried throat. “Well, Trevor. To you and the rest of Bunker Bravo: Welcome to my war.”
In Memoriam
The Jefferson Memorial story arc of The Mortis Desolation will conclude with book three, Memorial, coming April 2016.
A new adventure with the Jefferson Crew will begin with Book Four, coming shortly after Memorial. For more info, sign up for my mailing list at authorloganrutherford.com/list/.
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Also by Logan Rutherford
THE FIRST SUPERHERO
The Second Super
The Siege of the Supers
Richter
THE MORTIS DESOLATION
Mortis
Retaliation
About the Author
Logan Rutherford is a twenty year old author living in Texas. If you really want to get to know him, contact him at any of the places below. (Warning: His Twitter is filled with dumb jokes and retweets of entertainment new and anything good anybody has ever said about him.)
@loganrutherford
loganwrites
www.authologanrutherford.com
[email protected]
Retaliation: The Mortis Desolation, Book Two Page 14
