Fight to Live: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (After the Outbreak Book 2)

by Dave Bowman

  She would have to consider what they had to back in New Mexico, and what was most needed. There would need to be a lot of decisions made about what items should fill her limited truck space, and Jessa felt overwhelmed. And hungry.

  “Come on,” she said to Trina. “Let’s fix some food.”

  The two women returned to the cabin and put some water to boil, adding in dehydrated soup mix. While they waited for it to cook, they munched on homemade pemmican. Jessa lit an oil lamp; it was getting dark.

  Trina stopped mid-chew. “Did you hear something?” she asked, looking worriedly at Jessa.

  Jessa paused to listen. She heard nothing but the soup simmering on the stove. She reached over to turn the burner out, then she held still.

  “I don’t hear anything but the wind in the trees,” she said, looking at Trina.

  They listened for a moment more, then Trina shrugged and took another piece of pemmican. “Probably just the wind. I’m a little on edge, I guess.”

  Jessa’s hand came down on hers swiftly and held it still to stop the rustling of the package. She lifted a single finger to her mouth, then walked to the window.

  She saw nothing but the dusk outside. Just to be safe, though, she walked to the safe and took out the two rifles, handing one to Trina. She turned the oil lamp out then returned to the window. As her eyes adjusted to the low light, she scanned the driveway and the woods beyond it.

  Behind the cluster of pine trees at the bottom of the driveway, she saw it. A man was scurrying through the woods, trying to remain hidden as he approached the house.

  29

  Matt was riding in the backseat of Nick’s truck when he let out a little surprised yelp.

  “I saw someone driving a car down there!” he said to Nick, pointing toward the access road off the interstate.

  They had covered so many miles without seeing another soul that it was a jolt to see any sign of human activity. “It turned down a side street and disappeared.”

  Nick’s ears pricked up. “What kind of car? Did you see who was driving it?”

  “It was a sports car. A Porsche, I think. And there were two guys in there.”

  Just then Nick looked up to see an exit sign covered in graffiti. He knew it had been painted since the virus outbreak – such a prominent road sign would never have been defaced when highway maintenance crews were up and running.

  Nick shifted in his seat, his eyes scanning the area around them. He had a bad feeling about this. They were only a couple of miles from the loop that would circumvent downtown and head west, but he didn’t know if they could make it even that short distance.

  “Keep that shotgun of yours ready.”

  Matt nodded. “You think they could be dangerous?”

  “You just never know these days.” He glanced in the rear-view. Liz was driving the F-150, with Bethany and Mia as passengers, and Charlie brought up the rear in the Dodge truck.

  Slowing down his speed, he pulled over to the shoulder and motioned for Liz and Charlie to do the same.

  “We’ve already spotted some people, and I’m going ahead to scope things out before we go further,” Nick said as he reached the Ford. Charlie got out of the Dodge and walked up to the group to listen.

  Nick looked at the other side of the interstate, which was thronged with wrecked and abandoned cars, left by people trying to flee Denver when things were chaotic with the virus.

  “Liz, you drive over to the other side – the southbound interstate. Turn the pickup around to face the other way and park. The Ford will look like just another abandoned vehicle. You, Bethany, and Mia stay down and out of sight until I’m back.”

  Liz looked at the cluster of parked vehicles on the other side of the interstate and nodded.

  “Charlie, you do the same with the Dodge. Matt, you wait there with him,” Nick said.

  Charlie shook his head. “No way. I’m going with you.”

  “Okay,” Nick said, shrugging. “I could use another pair of eyes and ears. But you should leave the Dodge on the other side with the Ford.”

  “I’m going too,” Matt said.

  Nick looked at his nephew, who had walked over to join them as they discussed the plan. He opened his mouth to refuse Matt’s offer, but something in the way the boy stood made him reconsider. He looked determined and grounded, clenching his shotgun in his hands. Nick gave him a nod. He was in.

  Charlie and Liz drove ahead to where there was a break in the guardrail and crossed the median to the other side of the interstate, where they blended in with the tangle of vehicles. The women and Mia positioned themselves in the parked truck where they would not be noticed by a casual observer, and Charlie left the Dodge truck nearby before jogging back to the Silverado.

  Nick eased back out on the highway with Matt and Charlie and continued toward the city. As they climbed to the top of a hill, the downtown Denver skyline came into view, bleak and charred. Even from a distance, they could see how many buildings had been burned.

  The truck reached the top of the hill and Nick came to an abrupt stop. About 150 yards ahead stood a school bus stretched across the road, blocking their passage.

  No!

  With his heart pounding, Nick slowed to make a sharp U-turn.

  “Why are you turning around?” Matt asked, confused. “We can squeeze through on the side.”

  Nick straightened the truck out and sped off. He had to get back to the women as fast as possible. They had to all get out of there.

  “Nick’s had some trouble with roadblocks before,” Charlie said, looking through the scope of his rifle as he pointed it out the window.

  As the truck once again reached the top of the hill and started its descent on the other side, Nick felt a sharp tightening around his chest.

  Two hundred yards away, a pair of large SUVs were racing wildly toward them. Suddenly Nick found himself staring at several rifles pointing out the windows and aimed in their direction, getting closer with every fraction of a second.

  He blinked once, and he had his plan. Pushing the gas pedal down, his eyes darted up ahead to the small service road that connected the two sides of the interstate.

  Charlie leaned out his window slightly to sight through his rifle.

  Boom!

  The first shot fired came from one of the SUVs, and then all chaos broke out. Charlie returned the fire, and several shooters from both of the oncoming vehicles shot back.

  “Hold on!” Nick shouted as he pulled on the steering wheel sharply right to turn down the service road. He nearly lost control of the truck as he made another turn – this time left onto the southbound portion of the interstate. Behind him, Matt began to fire his shotgun from the open back seat window.

  “Get down!” Nick ordered as they got closer to the SUVs, which had stopped and were waiting for Nick to pass by. Nick’s truck flew by them as they fired. The truck endured a barrage of rounds to its body.

  Nick returned to his upright position, having ducked down momentarily as he passed them. “Is anyone hit?” he asked Charlie and Matt.

  “Not me,” Matt replied in a shaky voice.

  “The bastards didn’t get me yet,” Charlie said as he turned around in his seat to aim his gun again at the SUVs behind them.

  Nick watched in the rear-view mirror as the SUVs turned around and began to pursue them once more. There were five men shooting at them.

  Were these strangers risking their own lives just to steal their supplies and guns? Or had they seen the women waiting in the other truck? Whatever they wanted, Nick feared he, Charlie, and Matt were no match for these attackers.

  30

  Liz lay motionless behind the steering wheel of Matt’s truck and moved only her eyes up to look at Bethany and Mia. Bethany had used the opportunity to take another nap in the passenger seat.

  “How can she sleep with this horrible smell all around us?” she whispered to Mia in the back seat.

  Mia quietly groaned in agreement. The stench of the ro
tting bodies in the cars around them was overwhelming, even with all the windows closed tight. Liz wished she would have stationed the truck a bit farther away from the other cars. Swarms of flies buzzed around them, and birds feasted on the bodies they could get to.

  “I hope they hurry,” Mia said. “Those buzzards might try to get to us next.”

  “Shhh,” Liz said. “Someone’s coming.”

  The revving engine of a vehicle traveling at top speed grew louder.

  Her insides twisted in fear as she determined it wasn’t coming from the same direction Nick and the guys had driven toward. It was coming from the south.

  Her palms began to sweat as she realized the sound wasn’t one engine – it was two.

  She moved her head slightly and opened her eyes just a slit to watch a Cadillac Escalade and a Land Rover – looking like they had just been driven off the sales lot – barreling down the road. Driving at breakneck speeds by men with determined looks on their faces, they were clearly on a mission.

  Suddenly, she began to feel claustrophobic and had to pant for breath. The guys had just walked into a trap.

  White-hot fear gripped her, paralyzed her. The SUVs blazed past them on the other side of the median. Liz struggled to catch her breath.

  Beside her, Bethany started to stir. “Is something happening?” She asked, half-asleep.

  Liz didn’t answer. Instead, she only listened. The sound of the engines was decreasing as the vehicles careened down the road. Now, she could hear Mia’s ragged breath, laced with panic, in the backseat.

  Her gut told her it was no coincidence. The drivers of the SUVs had spotted Nick, Charlie and Matt. She knew it.

  I have to do something.

  Liz had made a terrible mistake before – one that had nearly cost them their lives.

  The terror of the night she had been kidnapped returned to her now. The fear and desperation on the faces of the people she cared about that night still haunted her. She hadn’t been able to forgive herself for that awful lapse in judgment that had led three murderers to their idyllic home.

  Her hands drew up into clenched fists.

  The three men who had attacked them a week ago had been driven by inhuman cruelty. They hadn’t cared who they killed or what they destroyed.

  Now the same sort of soulless shells of men were racing down the road to hurt Nick, Charlie, and Matt. Then, she thought bleakly, they would return for the women.

  They were the only family she had. She wasn’t going to let it happen. She would redeem herself for her poor judgment in the past.

  She sat up in her seat and unlocked the doors. “Bethany, Mia – go wait in the Dodge!”

  “What?” Bethany asked, confused.

  But Mia already understood. “Don’t do it, Liz!” She protested, her face twisting in fear.

  Liz turned around in her seat to face the little girl and looked into her brown eyes. “You have to trust me, Mia. I can do this. I have to do this to help the guys – all of us.” She reached her hand out and stroked Mia’s cheek tenderly.

  “I’ll see you soon, kiddo.”

  The gesture seemed to give Mia some reassurance. “Please be careful,” she said with a trembling voice, then opened the door and jumped out.

  Bethany groggily followed her to the Dodge pickup as Mia filled her in on what was going on.

  Liz started the Ford and turned it around to face the opposite direction. When she saw that Mia and Bethany were safely inside the other truck, Liz drove off, her rifle in her lap. The pain from the wound on her calf flared up as she stepped hard on the gas pedal, but she ignored it. The pain meant nothing.

  When she advanced past the largest web of wrecked cars on the south-bound interstate, she picked up speed. Her heart was beating so fast she could feel it in her temples. She took big gulps of air and tried to steady her shaking hands as she pressed the truck onward toward Denver.

  After about a mile, she heard the roaring of several engines – the two SUVs and Nick’s Silverado, she guessed. But now it sounded different. Now, they were approaching in her direction.

  As if her hands possessed a higher knowing than her racing mind, she jerked the steering wheel sharply to the left and began to climb a ramp leading up to an interstate overpass. She narrowly avoided crashing into an abandoned station wagon left in the middle of the overpass as she came to a stop on the bridge.

  Liz grabbed her rifle and ran over to the guardrail. She hoisted the semiautomatic over the edge and pulled the stock tight into her shoulder pocket. Crouching down, most of her body was protected behind the thick concrete wall.

  She remembered how Nick always had to remind her to breathe in situations like this. She took some deep breaths now to steady herself as she heard the sound of the engines getting louder.

  Nick’s truck was the first to come into view. He was driving at top speed, trying to lose the SUVs behind him while Charlie and Matt fired their guns at the men tailing them. Two or three men in each SUV were shooting at the guys.

  It was a chaotic, horrific scene. And the massive vehicles were gaining on Nick’s heavy truck.

  Liz sighted the Escalade driver in her scope, took a deep breath, and started pulling the trigger over and over.

  Bang bang bang bang!

  The shots rang out, the force of the gun rocking through her body, and she gritted her teeth, fighting to keep herself steady against the recoil. The Escalade’s windshield shattered, and she kept firing at the driver.

  With the cracked glass, she couldn’t see when she hit the crazed man. But when the vehicle careened off to the side and crashed into the guardrail, she knew he had been shot.

  A shot from the Land Rover shattered the rear glass of Nick’s truck. She swiveled the rifle to aim at the second vehicle and began shooting at its driver. The passenger spotted her sniper’s nest and turned his fire toward her. She instinctively ducked her head down, hiding from the shots for just a moment.

  Get back up there! You can’t stop now!

  She popped back up to look over the edge just as Nick’s truck disappeared under the overpass with the Land Rover still tailing it. Looking at the crashed Escalade, she saw no movement. Both the driver and the passenger appeared to be dead, so she raced over to the other side of the bridge.

  The AR-15 aimed out the window of the Ford unleashed a relentless torrent of rounds on the pursuers. Before Liz could even raise her own rifle in the direction of the Land Rover, the SUV driver was hit by the spray and jerked backwards, then slumped forward, his head hitting the steering wheel.

  The Land Rover plunged into the concrete wall beside the median, then flipped over. Liz held her breath as she watched the scene. Nick slowed down as he waited and watched for any response from the Land Rover passengers. He was undoubtedly trying to assess the situation with Liz and the Escalade behind him as well.

  Liz scuttled back to the other side of the bridge and looked over the edge at the Escalade. Her heart skipped a beat.

  The passenger was gone.

  31

  Crouching down once more, Liz scanned the area. Panicking, her eyes wildly flashed from the vehicle below to the median and the opposite side of the interstate, then to a stand of trees off the shoulder of the highway. She saw nothing, but she knew an armed man from the Escalade was somewhere nearby.

  She didn’t know his location, but he no doubt knew hers. A chill spread throughout her body, raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

  Mason to Tracker Three. What’s the status on the target? Over.

  The tinny, muffled voice coming through the CB radio in the Escalade pierced the unnatural silence as Liz scanned the area below the overpass, making her jump.

  So there were others that knew about their entrance to Denver. And with no one responding to the inquiries on the radio, reinforcements would likely be sent in soon.

  Liz swept her head from side to side, trying to see through her tunnel vision caused by firing the firearm. Where had he run off to?
He couldn’t have gotten far – she had just turned her back for two minutes.

  She squinted toward the cluster of pines off to the side and down below. He must have run to the forested patch near the shoulder to hide while she was on the other side of the bridge. But she saw nothing, and she was running out of time.

  She hadn’t heard anything from behind her. She could only wonder what was happening with Nick and the Land Rover. She prayed that none of her own were injured.

  Tracker Three, do you read me? Over.

  A frantic movement from within the stand of trees caught her eye. Just as soon as she saw the man, he began shooting at her. The rounds hit the concrete wall around her, chipping the material and sending flakes and dust everywhere. She ducked down for a moment, then swung her rifle around to aim.

  Doing her best to keep her hands from shaking, she found her target in the scope and fired off several rounds. The sound was deafening and the force of the rifle overwhelming. She pulled the trigger again and again.

  Finally, she hit him in the chest. He staggered backward, his hand going to his wound. After a moment, she saw him fall to the ground.

  Once certain the man was dead, Liz raced back to the Ford. She peeled out and drove down the ramp. Once again entering the southbound interstate, she saw Nick watching her. She approached quickly, weaving her way around the wrecked cars left two weeks ago by Hosta victims.

  “Are you okay?” he called out to her as she skidded to a stop nearby.

  She nodded furiously, impatient to flee the scene. “Are you guys all right?”

  “All okay here,” Nick said as he ran over to the Land Rover to retrieve the rifles the men had used. Liz flashed her eyes over to see Charlie and Matt, who looked frightened but physically unharmed.