Driver 8

by G. Michael Hopf

  The rounds the guard squarely in the chest. He fell back, hit the door and slid down but was still alive. Thinking quickly, he keyed his radio handset and sounded the alarm, “We’re under attack, level five. Repeat, we’re under attack, level five.”

  Kyle reached him first and without saying a word put two rounds in his head.

  Tommy came up beside Kyle, turned towards Cal and Eric to see where they were. He found them kneeling next to Dana’s body. Cal had her in his lap, his trembling hand stroking her hair. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

  Eric knelt next to him, holding her hand.

  “There’s not time for this, I need the charges,” Tommy snapped.

  The guard’s radio crackled to life. “Who was that? Come back. Who was reporting an attack on level five?”

  “Eric give me the charges, we’re going to have company soon,” Tommy barked.

  Gunshots ripped through the door, one grazing Tommy’s leg.

  Kyle stepped out of the way while Tommy crawled to clear the gunfire punching through the door from inside. “Looks like he knows we’re here.”

  ***

  “Who is it?” Barry yelled at Cisco who was awkwardly holding the AR platform rifle at the hip.

  “How am I supposed to know?” Cisco yelled back.

  Barry raced back into the bedroom of the suite. Inside two young girls no older than twelve were there huddled in the corner whimpering. He looked at them and screamed, “Shut the fuck up!” He went to the closet, found a rifle and a pistol. He checked to see if they were loaded and headed back towards the living room. On his way past the girls, he aimed, shot and killed the them. "I told you to shut up."

  Cisco fired another volley of rounds until the bolt locked back. “It’s empty! I need more bullets!”

  Barry tossed him a fully loaded thirty round magazine.

  Cisco caught it but had no idea how to remove the empty one. “How does this work?”

  “For Christ’s sake,” Barry bellowed storming over to Cisco and doing it for him.

  “Number One are you safe?” a voice boomed from a radio positioned on the sofa table.

  Barry picked it up and yelled, “No, we’re not. Now stop calling and send up everyone!”

  “Everyone?”

  “Yes, everyone!”

  ***

  Cal stormed over to Kyle and shoved him, “This is your fault!”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Kyle asked shocked and annoyed by Cal’s behavior.

  “Dana’s dead because of you. I told you this was a bad idea and you supported her plan. Now’s she’s dead!”

  “She died a hero. She was one of the toughest and bravest people I’ve met in a long time.”

  Cal grabbed Kyle by the collar and pushed him hard against the wall. “I should kill you.”

  Done with Cal’s tantrum, Kyle pulled his knife and poked Cal in the groin with it. “Let go or I’ll have you singing soprano.”

  Feeling the sharp tip of the blade against his genitals, Cal looked down and took a step back. “When this is done, you and I will have a few words.”

  Kyle cracked a smile and looked at Tommy, “Drama queens, I told you.”

  Tommy wasn’t paying attention to the squabble, he had cut open his pants and was addressing the wound.

  “You good?” Kyle asked.

  “Fine, just grazed me,” he said tying a cloth bandage around it. “We need to get these doors open and now. Eric toss me the satchel,” Tommy said.

  Eric did as he was told and threw the satchel over.

  Tommy quickly set the plastic charges near where he guessed the hinges were located and stepped back. “Everyone get clear.”

  The others stacked up against the wall and waited.

  Tommy blew the charge. The concussion was loud and the hall was showered with wood, plastic, sheet rock and other debris.

  Kyle was the first to enter, “Going left.”

  Cal came in behind him with Eric right behind and Tommy bringing up the tail end.

  Kyle scanned his area of responsibility and upon seeing no one was there, called out, “Left clear.”

  “All clear here!” Cal hollered. “I’ve got a double set of doors here.”

  “Me too,” Kyle said.

  On either side of the large living room were entrances to two bedrooms.

  “Anymore charges?” Kyle asked.

  “No,” Tommy replied.

  “I guess we’ll have to do this the old fashioned way,” Kyle said. “Let’s take down the one on the left first.”

  “I’m going to keep watch on the door, we’ll have visitors soon,” Tommy said going back to the breached doorway to provide watch.

  A loud crash came from the opposite side of the room from Kyle. He looked and saw Cal kicking in the door. “For fuck’s sake!” Kyle ran over and said, “Get out of the way!”

  Cal resisted at first but soon relented.

  Kyle stepped back, aimed at the door handle and shot several times. He turned back to Cal and said, “Try now.”

  Cal came forward and kicked hard. The doors flew open.

  Eric raced in and looked around. “No one here.”

  “I’ll check the bathroom, Cal check the closet,” Kyle said heading towards the bathroom, his rifle at the ready in his shoulder. He pushed the half closed door fully open and peaked inside. “All clear.”

  “Closet too,” Cal said.

  Heavy gunfire erupted from the front door area.

  “It’s Tommy. Our guests are here!” Kyle said bolting out of the room. “Tommy, you good?”

  While engaging guards further down the hall, Tommy replied, “I got this, go get your man.”

  Wanting to show his bravado, Eric marched over to the other bedroom door and kicked it, “Open up!”

  Not ready, Kyle hollered at Eric, “No, don’t!”

  Gunshots ripped through the doors striking Eric in the neck, shoulder and chest. He stumbled back, tripped over a chair and fell into the coffee table. He immediately pressed his hand to the wound in his neck to prevent the blood from pouring out but it wasn’t helping as the blood oozed through his fingers.

  Cal came to his side. “Oh, no, no.”

  “No fucking time, he’ll be dead in a minute,” Kyle said callously.

  “You don’t know that,” Cal said applying pressure to the wound on his neck.

  “Trust me, he’s been shot through the jugular. He’s dead,” Kyle said.

  Eric coughed and gargled volumes of blood before expiring with a gasp.

  Cal stopped administering first aid and looked over at Kyle, “You’re an asshole. I hate you.”

  “I hear that a lot, now are we going to accomplish what we came to do?” Kyle asked.

  The backdrop of heavy gunfire from the hallway and doorway hadn’t subsided.

  “How you doing Tommy?” Kyle asked.

  “I need some ammo, there’s a shit load of people up here.”

  Kyle ran up and handed him two fully loaded thirty round magazines for his AR. “This is all I can spare.”

  Cal came up and gave him more, “These were Eric’s.”

  Not lifting his head from his rifle, Tommy said, “Fellas, I’m not liking the odds right now.”

  “We’ll be fine, Tommy boy, remember that time in Compton when we were beat cops?” Kyle asked.

  “No time for reminiscing, go get Barry,” Tommy replied.

  Kyle looked at Cal and said, “This time we do it my way.”

  Cal nodded.

  They went to the door.

  “I’m going to blast the door handle while I want you to spray some rounds through the door. That’ll get them to retreat away from it…I hope,” Kyle chuckled.

  Cal nodded, his anxiety was at an all-time high.

  “On the count of three; one, don’t you love this shit, two, remember don’t kill Barry, and three.”

  FISHLAKE NATIONAL FOREST, UTAH, ROCKY MOUNTAIN REPUBLIC

 
One by one the women were either taken to be raped or butchered and consumed, except for Portia who remained tied up. Each time a Generate came towards her, the Generate leader would chase them off and warn that she was his. What that meant was unknown to her.

  Portia had heard of these ceremonies but found calling it that was inappropriate, it was more an orgy of blood and decadence. It was no surprise after all she had witnessed that Generates weren’t even considered human anymore. How could a human do such a thing? The barbarism, the pure evil of what they did was so shocking that no one could ever understand if you explained it to them, the only way to truly comprehend was to witness it with one’s own eyes.

  Weary, she waited for the moment the Generate leader would come for her. Each time he’d approached she wondered if this was it, was she now going to suffer everyone else’s fate. Nancy lasted longer than Earl, she was still alive up until he plunged his knife into her chest and pried it open. Portia hadn’t known her long and in that short period of time found her to be annoying and clearly a thief but she did feel sorry for what happened to her. Like her, Nancy had been a resident of The Collective and diagnosed with a terminal disease, solely because they needed fresh slaves to sell.

  Many Generates howled as they feasted while others openly had sex with their females for all to see. The Generate was a clear example of how humans could devolve and become something horrible. To Portia it was like they were soulless.

  The Generate leader sauntered towards her.

  Portia watched him and again wondered if this was her time.

  He stepped in front of her and smiled. His teeth were blackened from the blood and grinded to sharp points with small chunks of flesh stuck in between. His chin, cheeks, neck and chest were covered in blood.

  “Is this it?” she asked calmly.

  He removed his knife and leaned towards her.

  Resigned to her fate, she closed her eyes. Suddenly the pressure on her arms behind her lessened. She opened her eyes to find him putting the knife back in his sheath.

  “Get up,” he ordered.

  “Huh?”

  “Get up,” he repeated.

  He had cut her free. She rubbed her wrists and gave him a long stare.

  Impatient, he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up. “Get up.” He drew her face close to his and said, “You’re mine. Time to go fuck.”

  “Why me?” she blurted out, shocked that she even asked a question.

  He ignored her question. He tightened his grip and pulled her along.

  A single shot cracked in the distance.

  The Generate leader stopped and looked around. Near the fire one of his tribe dropped dead.

  Another shot rang out.

  Again, another Generate fell.

  The Generate leader tossed her to the ground and cried out, “Run! Go scatter.”

  Portia fell to her knees and watched as the Generates began to run in different directions. The Generates were fierce when dealing with captives but it was widely known they weren’t great fighters if up against a superior force.

  The single gun fire became a barrage of bullets coming from all directions.

  In order to protect herself, Portia crawled towards a ditch and rolled in. The second she hit the bottom she regretted the hiding spot. It was a mass grave filled with the skeletal remains of their victims. The smell of rotting flesh and decay was too much, Portia began to throw up. There was no way she’d be able to stomach this, she crawled out and just lay on her back. If she was going to die by gunshot, fine, at least she wouldn’t be skinned alive.

  Some of the Generates had managed to get to their dwellings to get firearms but a large number hadn’t. Whoever was shooting at them were accurate and the Generates were taking heavy casualties.

  ***

  Portia lay for what seemed like an eternity. The screams of the Generates were like music to her ears. She didn’t know who was attacking them but whoever it was they were like guardian angels.

  The gunfire ceased. She rolled over and looked around, Generate bodies lay scattered everywhere. An eerie silence washed over the encampment save for the crackling fires and muted moans from wounded Generates.

  Figures began to emerge from the shadows. They split up and began to assess the carnage. Any surviving Generate was killed immediately.

  Portia didn’t move for fear these people could be as bad as the Generates, if that was possible. The sounds of heavy footfalls behind her sent chills down her spine. She thought about running, but where would she go?

  “I’ve got one here,” a man said towering over her.

  Portia began to crawl away frantically.

  “Look at it go,” the man laughed as he pursued her.

  She jumped to her feet but didn’t get one step as he grabbed her by the back of her shirt and threw her to the ground.

  “Time to say goodnight, Generate,” the man said holding an axe above his head.

  “No, please, don’t, I’m not a Generate, I’m not a Generate, they captured me, please don’t hurt me,” Portia begged holding her hands out in front of her in a defensive manner.

  The man hesitated and looked at her closer. “Were you from that slave truck?”

  “Um, yes, the slave truck, please don’t hurt me.”

  “Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” he said offering his hand.

  Portia looked at him then his hand and thought she didn’t have anything to lose so she took his hand.

  He lifted her to her feet and said, “Anyone else alive?”

  She looked around and replied, “I don’t know. I know some of the women were taken to huts over there but you guys were shooting I just ran and hid in that pit but when I found out it was…” She stopped herself once she noticed she was rambling. “Listen, I don’t know.”

  A shriek came from behind the man.

  Portia looked over his shoulder and saw the Generate leader racing towards them with a knife in its hand.

  The man turned around calmly, spun the axe in his hand and waited for the Generate to draw closer.

  It continued to shriek as it came.

  The man raised the axe, held it for a second then threw it. The axe spun through the air and came to a stop inches deep in the Generate’s face. It crashed to the ground and began to flop around. He ran over, put his boot on its neck and pulled the axe out its head, then for good measure swung it hard and planted it one more time in its face.

  The Generate leader made an unintelligible sound, its body twitched for a few seconds before becoming still.

  The man retrieved the axe and walked back to a stunned Portia. Using his long sleeve he wiped the blood off.

  “You’re quite handy with that thing,” Portia said.

  “This thing is amazing, you can’t really find them anymore. They’re called a Proof of Life axe, I don’t think that name fits, I call it my Proof of Death, as you can see,” he joked while motioning with a head nod to the dead Generate. He reached around to his back and pulled out a canteen, “Thirsty?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she said taking the canteen and gulping most of it down.

  “We got reports that a slaver truck was on the move south, we were going to ambush it but these fucking savages ambushed you first. By the time we found the truck you were long gone. From the attack we could tell it was Generates. Luckily for you, we knew this tribe had an encampment up here.”

  “We could have used you earlier, but nevertheless, thank you,” Portia said handing the canteen back.

  A woman walked up, she was adorned in heavy leather combat gear and was also holding an axe. Her thick hair was pulled back into a series of braids and across her face she had three dark blue stripes going diagonally from left to right. Attached to her vest was a frag grenade painted pink, with the name SALLY, written across it. She gave Portia a quick look, then faced the man and said, “No survivors."

  “Thanks, Leigh,” the man said.

  “Who’s this?” Leigh asked.

  “A sur
vivor from the slave truck,” the man answered.

  “Then it wasn’t a total loss,” Leigh said.

  “Go gather the team, tell them to post a watch while the others look for anything of value; weapons, ammo, etcetera. We leave in ten.”

  “Sounds good boss,” Leigh said and marched off.

  “I suppose I should introduce myself, my name is Jacob, I’m Leviathan.”

  BATCHELOR GULCH, COLORADO, COLLECTIVE PROTECTED ZONE

  Cal unloaded his magazine into the door. When the bolt locked back, Kyle used that as his cue; he stepped forward and kicked the doors. Unlike before the doors didn’t budge.

  “He’s put something in front of them,” Kyle yelled. He stepped back out of the way.

  “What do we do?” Cal asked.

  Kyle looked around, when he spotted the fireplace an idea popped in his head. “We’ll smoke him out.” Kyle ran to the fireplace and turned it on. “Grab me those papers and the waste basket near the desk.

  “What are you guys doing, hurry the hell up!” Tommy said. All around him pieces of the door and frame flew as gunfire hit all around him. “I’ve been lucky but luck will soon run out!”

  Cal didn’t move.

  “What are you doing? Go get me what I need!” Kyle barked.

  Cal walked over to Eric’s dead body, reached inside of his jacket and removed a few items and held them up. Will these work?”

  Kyle stood up and walked over to Cal, he looked at the items and said, “You had a smoke grenade, a CS grenade and flash bangs?”

  “Eric was a demo guy, I suddenly thought he might have something on him.”

  Kyle smiled and asked, “We’re in business.” He grabbed the flash bangs and walked to the door where a two inch opening was left from him trying to enter before. He pulled the pin on the flash bang and pushed it through the door.