by J. G. Martin
He unscrewed the cap of the gas can and hurled it out the back of the truck, directly in front of the approaching car. It bounced a few times spraying gas everywhere and then lay on its side with gas pouring out. Taking quick aim with the flare gun he fired at the makeshift firebomb. The flare arced away with a hiss and landed right in the rapidly pooling gasoline.
The gas and can exploded with a violent roar sending flame and shrapnel in every direction. The car tried to avoid it, but it was too late. They drove right through the billowing fireball. The car continued after them its front end ablaze, but the machine gun was silent. Moments later it rolled to a stop with smoke pouring from under its hood, its hoses and belts melted and its engine seizing.
He grabbed the other can in the back and tried to repeat his success, but the armored pickup avoided the fireball. He cursed at that failure, but the other pursuers did drop back. He banged on the roof of the truck and waved at Rora to go faster. She was driving amazingly well, swerving around obstacles and still maintaining a good speed, maybe they could lose these guys. That hope was short-lived as the dirt bikes roared past them, one on each side. Derek grabbed the M4 and tried to reload and shoot them down as they passed, but the bikers were too quick.
His attention was draw back to the other vehicles when the machine gun on the pickup began firing at them. A new gunner was manning it and keeping their head down so Derek couldn’t snipe him as well. That was good for Derek and Rora because he was just firing wildly with few rounds hitting the rusty pickup. But they were running out of options, eventually that machine gun would cut them to pieces when the gunner worked up his courage to actually aim.
That turned out not to matter. At Rora’s scream, he whipped his head around to see the bikers had stopped ahead of them and were stretching something across the road. Uh oh. He had ignored them as the lesser threat and that had been a mistake. Derek dropped into the truck bed and tried to grab hold of something. It didn’t matter. Rora had been doing an amazing job of driving but couldn’t avoid whatever obstacle that the two bounty hunters had strung across their path. Both front tires blew and she obviously lost control. The pickup flipped up and over and came crashing down into the dusty scrub. It rolled a few times before coming to a rest.
Derek was thrown in the air when the truck flipped over. He sailed several hundred feet before striking the ground hard. He tried to tuck and roll as he landed, but the scrub pines tore at him and caused him to flip end over end as he landed. From where he landed he could see the crashed pickup. Barbed wire was wrapped around the wheels. That must have been what they were laying across the road. Rora was hanging upside down from her seatbelt in the truck. She looked unconscious from the way she hung limply. He tried to get up but was too dizzy and out of breath from striking the ground so hard to do so.
He heard the screech of tires and the sound of tires sliding to a stop on the rough ground. He heard the bounty hunters yelling in jubilation and anger as they got out and approached him. Then all he saw was boots as they surrounded him and started kicking him. Derek tried to defend himself but he was too weak and there were too many of them. They were screaming, “You kilt our kin, you gonna pay!” at him as they kicked him. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was two hunters dragging Rora from the truck, her head hanging and bloody.
Chapter 31
June 14, 2029
Craighead County Prison
He awoke looking up at a steel grey ceiling. Derek reflexively sat up which caused rivers of pain to run across his entire body. He groaned in agony as almost every inch of his body hurt and his head swam. Slowing his breathing he managed to will away enough of the pain and focus. He was sitting on a steel bed bolted to the wall inside a small cell. Rora sat on the other bed watching him with great concern. She looked a little banged up but otherwise in good shape.
“Are you ok?” She asked anxiously.
He checked himself before answering. Unbelievably he didn’t seem to have any broken bones; even his ribs didn’t feel broken. The body armor must have absorbed a lot of the crash damage and subsequent beating. He was bruised all over and had a few knots on his head, but otherwise was not too badly hurt. His face felt swollen and he confirmed that by looking in the polished steel that served as a mirror.
“It looks worse than it is. Nothing is broken. I’ve been in worse shape.”
She looked at him doubtfully before asking. “What was worse than this?”
Normally he wouldn’t share this story, but they had been through a lot together in the last couple of days. He felt a bond with her that he hadn’t felt in a while. So he decided to share what had happened to him in China.
“On my last mission for the U.S. during the Collapse we were sent into China to mark possible nuclear weapons sites for airstrikes. We were ambushed, possibly betrayed by a traitor in the command staff, and we were surrounded by an entire division of elite Chinese troops. Fortunately they were trying to capture us for propaganda purposes so they didn’t just bomb us. We held them off for two days before we could be extracted. I lost half my men and I was grievously wounded. I was shot five times and badly burned by a firebomb attack. It took four months in an intensive care facility with experimental treatments for me to recover.”
Rora stared at him with her jaw hanging open. “You must be very lucky.”
“I’ve always been able to walk away from near death experiences. I guess its luck.”
“What else have you survived?”
Derek ticked them off matter of factly. “Let’s see; before this week I’ve been thrown out of a helicopter, ambushed by Drinkers, shot about seventeen different times, stabbed fifteen different times, run over by a car, almost drowned three times, and nearly blown up six different times. There’s probably more but that’s all I can think of right now.”
“That’s…incredible. You must have a guardian angel watching over you.”
That comment triggered Derek to check his ear for the phone’s earpiece, but it was gone. He also realized he wasn’t wearing his body armor and they had taken all of his weapons and gear. In fact; all he was wearing were his pants, boots, and a stained, white wife-beater. They must have torn his shirt off of him when they took the body armor. That was upsetting, that was his favorite shirt.
“Where are we and what happened after they kicked me unconscious?” He asked.
“They were pretty angry about you killing three of them so they probably would have beaten you to death but their leader stopped them. He said something about a trial and they all backed off. Then they loaded us in one of the SUVs and brought us here. It used to be the county prison. They were bragging about how they got even with the Sherriff for hassling them for so long. Sounds like they gave him some sort of trial and then ‘punished’ him. Once we got here, they stripped you of everything and then locked us in here. They said they will be back soon for our trial.”
“Did they hurt you?”
“No, one of them started feeling me up but one of the women stopped him and told him to save it for later.” Rora shuddered as she recalled that.
“Any idea who they are?” Derek inquired.
“As best I can tell, they are an inbred clan of hillbillies who have taken over the county. Before the Collapse they must have been petty criminals of some sort to have constant run-ins with the law. Now they also hunt bounties for extra cash. Most of the survivors in the area seem related to them.”
“Yeah, the station owner was one of them and I didn’t realize it until too late. I wasn’t following Rule # 7 or #10, I didn’t pay enough attention and I let my guard down.”
“What are we going to do? You don’t have any weapons.” Rora asked with great concern.
“Fortunately, I did follow Rule #15 which is always be prepared.” Derek replied flippantly.
He stood up and stretched his aching muscles and did a few quick exercises to get the blood flowing. Then reaching down to his boot he pulled a slim piece of metal from the sol
e. Moving to the cell door he examined the lock. As he thought, it was a simple key lock.
“These old cells in smaller country prisons all operate on a simple keyed lock. I’m going to pick it and we can get out of here.” He explained.
“What about the bounty hunters, they aren’t just going to let us walk out.”
“We’ll cross those bridges when we get to them.” Derek replied as he rotated and popped the muscles in his neck.
It only took a couple of minutes for him to unlock the door. He cautiously swung the door open. No alarm sounded so he motioned for Rora to follow him and they headed out into a wide corridor that ran along the cell block. The cell block held five cells and there was a solid steel door at the end of the corridor. The door didn’t have a handle on their side and looked like it could only be opened from the other side. This would require a little more effort than he thought.
Derek sent her back into the cell and shut the door. He was going to have to ambush the hunters when they came for them and an open door would be a sure sign of trouble. He and Rora had been held in the last cell, so the hunters would need to go all the way down the corridor to get to it. He picked the lock on the first cell and hid inside. He left the door slightly ajar so he could get out quickly.
He didn’t wait long. Three hunters came through the steel door about fifteen minutes later. Two men in front dressed in more of that ridiculous homemade armor and armed with shotguns. A purple haired woman wearing a skimpy denim outfit followed behind them carrying shackles. Derek waited until they had all passed and silently seized the woman from behind. He snapped her neck with a vicious twist and threw her body into the doorway blocking the door from shutting completely.
The two men heard the shackles hit the floor and turned around in curiosity. That turned to fear as Derek rushed at them from behind. He smashed the bounty hunter on the right in his broken toothed jaw with a powerful forearm shiver. The man crumpled to the ground his mouth a bloody mess. The other hillbilly tried to bring his gun to bear, but Derek was on him too quickly. They struggled for the gun, which went off. Derek clamped his hand behind the slide so the hunter couldn’t chamber another round. Then he kneed him in the groin. As the man loosened his grip on the shotgun Derek snatched it from him and slammed the butt of the gun into the redneck’s face knocking him out cold. Grabbing a knife from the belt of one of the men, Derek slit both their throats. He looked up to see Rora watching him with wide eyes.
“Rule #3 right?” She asked.
He nodded. He was impressed when she didn’t get upset and just calmly left the cell when he unlocked it. She was learning quickly and adapting remarkably after having been sheltered for so long. After exiting the cell she walked over to one of the dead men and gave him a swift kick.
When Derek gave her a questioning look she responded. “That’s the guy that was molesting me. I hope he rots in hell.”
He smiled and handed her one of the shotguns. “Point this at one of them, pull the trigger, pump the action to reload, and pull the trigger again until they are dead. Got it?”
She inspected the shotgun for a second and then nodded. “Seems simple enough.”
“Killing someone is never simple, but you don’t point a gun at someone unless you plan on shooting them. It gets easier after the first time.”
“I can see that.” She said pointedly, looking at the dead bodies.
Derek ignored the comment. “They probably heard the shot and will come to investigate. Even if they didn’t hear it, someone will come to see what happened to them when they don’t return with us. So we need to get to our weapons and gear as quick as possible. Once we have that we can steal a vehicle and get out of here…Any idea where they stored our gear?”
“Yes, they put everything on the tables in the visitor’s area near the entrance. Follow me, I remember the way.”
“All right, let’s go.” Derek answered, impressed by her new found confidence.
Rora stepped over the dead hunters and led the way through the series of corridors and rooms that made up the small prison. They were able to open most locked doors with the set of keys Derek had taken from the woman he killed. But they did have to back track a couple of times until they ended up in the prison kitchens. The bounty hunters apparently still used them based on the large number of dirty dishes scattered about. The filth was unbelievable, with rotting leftovers and filthy dishes covered in cockroaches. Of course they had survived the apocalypse like everyone had said they would.
It was so distracting, they almost didn’t notice the three men in Road Warrior-esque armor enter the kitchens. The hunters were surprised by the presence of their former prisoners that they froze for a moment as well. Derek broke the impasse by opening fire and Rora followed suit. This caused the rednecks to duck behind racks of dishes before they returned fire with pistols and a submachine gun. Bullets ricocheted off of pots and pans and aluminum plates. The racket was almost deafening.
The three bounty hunters exchanged fire while trying to exit the room. Derek was pretty sure they had wounded two of the hunters, but all three made it out of the room. The kitchens were a complete mess after the gun battle. Rotten food was splattered everywhere, pots and pans and plates were scattered everywhere; and a few lights flickered, having been hit by stray rounds. There was an odd silence as both sides regrouped.
Derek grabbed Rora and pushed her back the way they had come. They were low on ammo and didn’t want to get trapped there while the bounty hunters got reinforcements. As they exited back out the kitchens, he was surprised by a young man with a red mullet wearing football pad style armor. Derek blocked the first strike of the hunter’s large bowie knife with the shotgun; but before he could shoot the kid, the bounty hunter kicked him in the chest sending Derek back into the kitchen. He crashed backwards against a steel prep table and nearly dropped the shotgun.
Taking advantage of Derek’s temporary incapacitation the young man rushed forward and tried to impale Derek with a lunging strike to the chest. He barely managed to deflect the blow with the shotgun and tried to smash the oncoming hunter in the face with the butt of the gun. But the redneck managed to duck that blow and then grab the shotgun. Slashing at Derek’s hands he forced him to let go of the shotgun, which the hunter then tossed away.
Seeing Rora out of the corner of his eye start to raise her shotgun, Derek waved her off. “Watch the other doorway; I’ll take care of this pup.”
His opponent snarled in anger and struck again, his blade striking the table when Derek rolled backwards over the table. The kid circled trying to find an opening. The way he handled the blade indicated that he was very experienced at knife fighting and a dangerous opponent. Derek was taller and outweighed him by a good forty pounds, but the kid moved sinuously like a snake and seemed very confident. He also had a metal bracer on his left forearm providing some protection against an opponent’s knife.
Derek grabbed a butcher knife from a knife rack and pushed a table out of the way to gain space. His opponent smiled and moved another table out of the way, creating a small arena in the center of the kitchens for them to fight in. Waving the knife in an intricate and serpentine pattern the bounty hunter attacked. But Derek had seen this before and knew it was just a distraction. He slapped the attack aside and moved away.
The kid grunted in respect and got a more serious look on his face. He knew this would be a tough opponent but he was still confident he could win. They looked each other in the eye and with an unspoken agreement they both surged forward. They collided in a dervish of blades, fists, and feet. Both slashing and striking at each other with wild abandon. The blades sparked as they struck each other and the steel surfaces around them. To Derek’s surprise the kid was giving as good as he got and several blows rocked him. This guy had serious martial arts skills.
They pulled apart, both breathing heavily and bleeding from numerous small cuts. Behind him Derek could hear sporadic gunfire as Rora held off the other bounty hunters. S
oon she would run out of ammo and they would overwhelm her and get to him. He had to finish this quickly. He waved the bounty hunter to come on and attack him.
The kid accepted the challenge and rushed at him, all fancy knife work forgotten. All he wanted to do was cut Derek’s head off. But instead of rushing forward himself, Derek jumped up and grabbed a hold of the hanging pot holder. Praying it would hold his weight he kicked out with both feet and caught the incoming hunter square in the face. The kid’s feet shot out from under him as his momentum carried his lower body forward while Derek’s feet stopped his face. He crashed to the floor in an unconscious heap. Derek dropped down and stabbed the kid through the heart.
He left the blade in the body and retrieved the shotgun. Flipping a prep table up for cover he called for Rora to join him and he covered her exit from the kitchens. He fired the last shells from the shotgun at the bounty hunters that spilled into the room after her. There were now more than the original three and the new ones had automatic weapons. The rounds bounced off the table as he fled the room.
He could hear the angry screams of the bounty hunters chasing them. Rora seemed to know where she was going so he followed her closely. When they slowed, shots would zip by them as the bounty hunters caught up. Alarmingly, Derek noticed that even when the rednecks got close enough to hit them they missed. Several times bounty hunters appeared ahead of them forcing them to divert down a new path. After that happened a few times; he realized they were being herded, but he had no idea where.
Their destination was revealed when they burst through a door out into the bright sunlight. He and Rora found themselves standing in the exercise yard. It was a plain dirt expanse with rusting basketball hoops and the collapsed remnants of bleachers and benches. The yard was fairly small and was closed off on two sides by a high chain-link fence and the other two sides by concrete walls two stories high. Beyond the fence was another chain-link fence about fifty feet further topped with razor wire.
