by J. G. Martin
Their eyes went wide when they saw the oncoming truck and they fired a few rounds. Derek ducked down and ran them over without a second thought. The SUV jumping as it crushed their screaming bodies underneath it. That should be all the raiders except the one in the tower. Derek swerved to a stop in front of the store. The store provided cover from the sniper. He jumped out and ran inside. He grabbed his backpack and Rora and dragged her to the truck.
“Get in! We have to go!” He yelled at her.
She scrambled in and they took off for the gate. The smoke had almost covered the yard, making it impossible for the sniper to get a clear view of them. Derek heard the sounds of gunshots but nothing struck the truck. He screeched to a halt at the gate and hopped out. The gate was locked but he used the shotgun to shoot off the lock. He slid the gate open and then looked for the box with his weapons in it. He grabbed his gear, tossed it into the back seat, and jumped back in. While he was doing this, several rounds hit the SUV, prompting a squeal from Rora.
Derek hopped back in, took a second to make sure she was ok, and then they sped off. As they drove off, he could see the yard filled with bodies and the burning wreck of the pumps. He wondered what it would cost Texas Republic to rebuild or if they even would. He also wondered what had happened to the original workers and guards and why they had allowed the raiders in.
Chapter 12
June 10, 2029
Texas Express Oil Station Near Greensburg, KS
Maximillian examined the wreckage of the Texas Republic express station. The fire at the pumps had burned itself out, leaving a pile of scorched slag and a surrounding burn mark on the ground. The store was shot to hell; bullet holes in every wall, glass and debris all over the floor, and water and motor oil splattered everywhere. The bodies of the dead raiders had been dragged into a pile by their fellows who had arrived too late to help them. The sole survivor had been the sniper in the tower. Fifteen armed men ambushing an unarmed man, and the unarmed man not only survived he slaughtered them. He needed to stop working with scum; they had an alarming failure rate. As much as he wanted to kill the surviving raiders for their failure, Maximillian still needed them. He would need men, and deniability for any attacks inside or near New Republic territory.
He was still plagued by the question of who this hero was. Even if the raiders were incompetent scum, they had outnumbered him fifteen to one and been armed against an unarmed man. Maximillian examined the bodies and saw some had been killed by a knife or knives and that the ones who had been shot had been shot no more than twice. Remarkable accuracy for a mere human. He entered the store and was elated to see that there did indeed appear to be a security system. In the back he found a secured computer that had survived the battle. Plugging in with the U.S.B 5 jack in his arm he was able to access the security footage. Finally the identity of this “hero” would be revealed.
He was so surprised he actually uttered the name out loud, “Derek Storm!”
Storm was supposed to be dead, executed by the U.S.T.G.. But there he was, slicing up three men in a matter of seconds. This explained a lot. Storm was a legend in the Special Forces community and Maximillian had first-hand experience of the man’s killer instincts. He also personally knew about Storm’s “rebirth” after the failed op in China. Anger and jealousy warred within him and he struggled to maintain control of his emotions, emotions he had thought long dead.
This made the mission personal for Maximillian and another emotion long suppressed surfaced, pleasure. He would take great pleasure in stopping Storm and getting some payback. It would also require better resources than the raider scum outside. Being able to dispose of them now would just be a bonus. While he was in the computer, Maximillian altered the footage to only show Storm killing the “storekeeper” and looting the store. That ought to slow him down by putting the Regulators on his trail.
He exited the building and marked the location of every raider. At his mental command the drones pulled out their energy weapons and started picking off the raiders one by one. He joined them in the massacre. The raiders were caught off guard and were no match for the pinpoint accuracy of Maximillian and his drones. In a few minutes they were all dead. He commanded the drones to remove the bodies and raider vehicles and burn them. No evidence of the raider attack could remain.
He then accessed the satellite footage of the express station and found Storm’s vehicle leaving. If the U.S.T.G. had faked his death, then Storm was probably working for them. If he had the device he would have already called for an extraction. So he must be taking the girl to get the device. A new strategy was needed here. Maximillian would wait until Storm retrieved the device and then take it from him. He tasked two more satellites to follow Storm. There could be no possibility of him getting away.
Chapter 13
June 10, 2029
Outside Wichita, KS
Derek and Rora drove down the highway at breakneck speed. He was convinced that someone was following them. Whether they were after the device or not was up for debate. At the very least they would have a tribe of raiders after them for killing their brothers. Also possibly a pack of burners and any Night Children survivors. Derek had a knack for making enemies and it seemed like everywhere they turned was another enemy.
“What medical device could your father have possibly made that would get people willing to pay so much money or die to get it?” He asked her curiously.
“What makes you think it was a medical device?” She asked puzzled.
“He was a doctor, they make medical devices don’t they.”
“He was a doctor of neuroscience and had an advanced degree in engineering, he wasn’t a medical doctor.” Rora replied with a laugh.
When Derek didn’t respond, she continued, “My father worked for the Collective before it became what you know it as today. Before the Collapse it was a scientific think tank working with the government to develop so called fringe science into viable technology. Things like life extension and universal immunity. Its original mission was to improve the lives of humans all over the world. Doors and several of the government members twisted the mission and seduced others to their cause. They kept a lot of the technology for themselves and began working on shadow projects that the U.S. government was completely unaware of, like cloning. They developed that completely against all rules set by the government.”
“This sounds like a bad science fiction TV show.” Derek scoffed.
“Unfortunately not. As time went on, the projects and experiments grew more and more perverse and took a decidedly evil turn. Plague research and bio-toxins. Splicing animal DNA to human. Mind Control. Dr. Reinhardt developed the precursor to the technology used to create drones. That was when my father turned against them and tried to leave. But I was sick and they were the only ones with a cure. He was forced to work with them until I was cured and we could escape. He created the device as insurance should they ever try to come get us. I don’t know what it is, but the Collective is deathly afraid of what it can do.”
“How do you know this?”
“Some of it my father told me and some of it I remember.”
“You were probably six years old, how do you remember it?”
Rora shrugged, “I just do.”
Derek felt she was holding something back, but it wasn’t really his business so he let it go. Rule #6 was mind your own business. No point in borrowing other people’s trouble. If trouble was bothering someone else it wasn’t bothering you. There were very few living heroes in the wasteland. The last time he had intervened had almost cost him his life and it had been the reason he stopped bounty hunting and had retreated to the summer camp.
They had just turned in a bounty in a small town when a hysterical woman had approached them. She had given them a sob story about her three starving children alone on her farm. Would they please pick up the kids and bring them to town? Against his better judgment and in violation of the rules he had agreed. They had gone to an abandoned farm
to get them. The “children” had turned out to be Drinkers, violent cannibalistic mutants, so called for their propensity to drink human blood. The blood left a stain around their lips and on their chins. They had become a huge menace after the Collapse and subsequent attacks.
The creatures were stronger and faster than normal humans. They had sharp teeth and powerful bites. Their limbs were slightly elongated and ended in razor sharp claws. They were pale skinned and hairless. Their eyes were yellow irises with black slits for pupils. No one knew for sure where they came from, but it was assumed they were the result of radiation and chemical weapon mutations. They were excellent killing machines, and they were always hungry.
The three had turned out to be at least thirty. The monsters had swarmed out of the basement and killed one of Derek’s partners before they even knew what was happening. Derek and his remaining partner had managed to drive them back and retreat upstairs. They had barricaded themselves in a bedroom and held the creatures off until morning. He sometimes still had nightmares about the howling noises the mutants made and the clawing sounds they made trying to get in.
In the morning they had jumped out the window. Drinkers couldn’t stand the light and typically hibernated during the day so there were no creatures to stop them. They had burned the farmhouse and all the outbuildings down. When they had returned to town, the woman was of course nowhere to be found. Their desire to help someone in need had cost them a partner, a lot of ammo, and some of their sanity. Never again.
Chapter 14
June 11, 2029
Near the Kansas-Missouri Border on U.S.-54
Derek saw the sign for the Freehold of Nevada, Missouri in the morning. There was also the symbol for the Regulators on the sign indicating a Station House. Station Houses were bases of operations for an entire region for the Brotherhood. It had holding cells, a court room, an armory, and a vehicle pool. He could cash in the bounties there and get some information on the town the device was located in. Any town large enough to have a Station House would also have food, stores, and other entertainments. He had been out in the bush a while, some civilization might be a nice change of pace. Plus they could trade for some ammo and other supplies.
He had avoided Wichita even though it was still an Independent City. It was also an open city, meaning that everyone was welcome. That included raiders and slavers. In fact, Wichita had the largest slave auction in North America. The U.S.T.G. maintained an informal presence there and was rumored to buy slaves for their mining and farming operations, although the official line was that they liberated those slaves. If they really wanted to liberate them, they would have taken control of Wichita, but they left it alone for some reason. Travelling there with a pretty young girl like Rora would just be asking for trouble.
A few miles short of town, Derek pulled the SUV to a stop. He got out and started going through his gear to take a quick inventory. He unloaded all the shells from the pump action and put them in his bandolier. He would sell or trade the pump action, his sawed off was much better in close quarters. He rifled through the truck just to make sure there wasn’t anything of use and was surprised to find some gear in the very back. A box of 9 mm ammo, a crowbar, and several small improvised explosive devices. All of that went into his backpack, which was practically bursting at this point.
“What are you doing?” Rora asked curiously.
“Checking what we have for sale or trade. We cannot stop for too long to get supplies. I think someone else is tracking us.”
“The slavers?”
“No. I think the slavers, the burners, and the raiders were working for someone else who wants the device. It is too much of a coincidence that they all ran into us in such a short time.” Derek replied grimly.
“Who do you think it is?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not waiting around to find out. We have to get to the device first.”
“The tank is full, why are we stopping?”
“Because the location you gave me is inside the New Republic of Texas no man’s land, we need permission to go in there. This town has a Regulator Station House. I have some old contacts in the Regulators and they may be able to help us.”
“What is the no man’s land?” Rora asked.
“After the U.S.T.G. attack on Atlanta, Texas established a fifty mile deep zone around their territory to prevent any sneak attacks. They have sensors set up all along the border. Anyone entering it is met with lethal force. But, the Regulators have transponders that allow them to come and go from the zone since they might be chasing criminals who enter the zone. We either need a transponder or a ride with someone has one.”
Derek climbed back into the truck and handed Rora one of the 9 mm pistols and an extra clip. She looked at him with a confused expression on her face. “What are these for?” She asked.
“These are yours. We’ll get you a holster in town. You need to be able to defend yourself out here. I’m going to teach you to shoot and fight. Otherwise it’s just a matter of time before you get raped and killed.” He replied matter of factly.
Rora grimaced, but didn’t argue. She gingerly put the gun and clip in her backpack. Derek chuckled at her discomfort. She had a lot to learn about her new environment. Keeping her isolated in their little village, separate and safe from the real world, hadn’t done her any favors. She would either adapt or become another victim of the harsh world of the wasteland. He threw the SUV into drive and resumed their trip into town.
As they got closer he could see signs for parking and some billboards proclaiming all sorts of pleasures and entertainments. Some were fairly obscene and the look on Rora’s face, as she processed what they were, was priceless. She became visibly more horrified with each billboard. Derek turned off the highway and down the road that led to the town.
They finally arrived at the outskirts of town and the parking lot. There was a large fenced in lot with armed guards and barbed wire just outside the entrance to town. The town itself was ringed by a large reinforced concrete wall with guard towers all along it. Searchlights and snipers were located at every tower. All brush had been cleared away for at least a mile. Despite the apparent wild nature of the town, they took security seriously.
A guard waved Derek over to the entrance to the parking lot and gestured for him to roll down his window. The guard was in blue jeans, a green plaid shirt, and cowboy boots; but he also had on body armor, a Kevlar helmet, and he was carrying an M-16 assault rifle. Several other similarly dressed guards stood nearby with their weapons ready but pointed down. Derek had no doubt that if they sensed a threat that they would not hesitate to open fire. For freehold guards they seemed very professional and well trained. He assumed the Regulators had something to do with that.
The guard approached his window and addressed him. “You have to park the vehicle in the lot and go into town on foot. No unauthorized vehicles are allowed inside the wall. It’s free to park and the lot is secure. We do reserve the right to search the vehicle at any time for any reason. We will give you a ticket to come reclaim the car when you are done in town. Any questions?”
It was obvious to Derek that this was something the guard said a dozen times a day based on his mechanical delivery. The lot was full of other cars and Derek didn’t see any other option, so he agreed. “I got it, no questions.”
“Great. Here is your ticket, don’t lose it.” The guard replied. He stuck a laminated red card inside the truck on the dash and handed Derek a matching card.
Derek and Rora parked in the lot next to a beat up Ford Mustang and gathered their gear. The lot was half full and had about thirty beat up vehicles of varying makes and models parked in it. Derek did notice two immaculate matte black Humvees parked by themselves at the back of the lot. Somebody here had some serious cash or connections, or both.
As they exited the lot, the guard waved them towards another group of guards at the entrance to the town. A large steel gate braced by a concrete blockhouse on either side blocked
their way. The gate stood over eight feet high and was broken up by an open door that a few people were lined up in front of. Guards were searching them and then passing them through. Derek and Rora joined the short line and waited their turn.
When it was their turn, the guards searched their packs thoroughly and pulled out the IEDs that Derek had acquired from the raider vehicle. They put them to the side and then patted both Derek and Rora down. Then one of the guards with a blue hash on the front of his helmet, obviously some sort of rank identifier, addressed them. “No explosives in town, you can have them back when you leave. You can keep your other weapons, but they have to remain holstered. If you draw them, expect any guards to open fire on you. Brawling is ok, but no weapons. Entrance is free. We maintain strict order in town. Be on your best behavior or face harsh punishment. Stores are on the left, entertainment on the right, stay out of the private parts of town. Now move on through.”
With that they were ushered in to town. Again, the guards had been efficient and practiced. This place must get a lot of outside traffic. Once inside they could see that the main street stretched out ahead of them. Bright neon lights lit the stretch advertising goods and services. Shills stood outside the entrances trying to lure in customers. The side roads that intersected the main street were blocked off by wooden walls with large double doors in the middle of them. The citizens of the town must live behind there, safe from the visiting mobs. More guards patrolled the main street, similarly attired except they carried shotguns slung over their shoulders and what looked like cattle prods on their belts.
