Forced Exodus (Pandemic Book Two)

by Christine Kersey

  “Look!” Dylan shouted.

  Matt couldn’t turn to see what he was pointing at. “What? What is it?”

  “Emily! She’s shooting back!”

  Matt’s gaze jerked to his sideview mirror. Sure enough, Emily was pointing a rifle out of the passenger window, shooting at the snipers. Taking advantage of the cover, Matt surged forward, hurtling under the overpass and racing away from it as fast as he could. The others did the same, and soon they were out of range of the men on the overpass.

  Matt kept an eye on his gauges to watch for any indication that his radiator had been hit. Looked okay. He would check for damage when they reached a place that felt safe to stop.

  Moments later another overpass came into view.

  “Oh no,” Jessica moaned.

  Matt picked up the walkie. “Do you see anyone on this overpass? Over.”

  After a brief hesitation, Derrick answered. “No, but let’s hurry past it. Over.”

  “Copy.”

  They drove underneath it without incident. When they were safely past, Matt exhaled in relief.

  On high alert, they continued north, and before long they made the turn west toward I-80.

  Chapter 6

  Derrick

  Reviewing the incident with the pedestrians, Derrick compressed his lips and shook his head. He should never have allowed Matt to stop. He’d known better. Sure, people might be grateful for help at first, but in the end the people they stopped to help would do what they had to do to survive. Even if that meant killing the person trying to help them.

  As he drove west on I-80, his eyes constantly scanning for danger, he allowed a grim smile to blossom on his lips. Good thing Jeff had been back there to take care of the problem when the man had opened fire. Derrick didn’t want to kill anyone—none of them did. But if they were shot at, he would return fire. And he was an extremely good shot. So was Jeff. Emily wasn’t bad either. He didn’t know Chris’s shooting skills, and Matt was TBD.

  Shaking his head, he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Despite Matt’s penchant to act first and think later, Derrick liked the guy. His family too. They were good people. He especially approved of them taking Brooke into their family like she was one of their own. He’d known her father—a good man. Derrick knew her father would be pleased that his daughter was with the Bronsons now.

  The West Temple overpass was coming up. Still shocked that they’d been shot at while driving on a road he’d driven dozens of times before, Derrick scanned the overpass for snipers. No one was in sight.

  He thought about the snipers he knew. If they’d been the ones shooting at them, the situation would have turned out very differently. Good thing the snipers they’d faced hadn’t been very good shots.

  He picked up the walkie. “Overpass looks clear. Over.”

  “Copy,” came back.

  They passed beneath several more overpasses without incident and Derrick began to feel more comfortable.

  The 201 overpass, which merged with I-80, was two hundred yards ahead. He thought he saw a flash of something, but he wasn’t certain. He wasn’t going to take a chance. “Be on alert. Over,” he said into the walkie before setting it on the console between the seats.

  The others acknowledged the warning.

  When all four vehicles had passed beneath the 201 overpass with nothing happening, he exhaled. Then movement on the on-ramp caught his eye. He looked to the right, eyes widening at a sight he’d never expected to see stateside—a pickup truck with a machine gun mounted to the roof and a man standing in the bed of the truck. In battle, a setup like that was called a technical. The man swiveled the gun in Derrick’s direction as the truck raced down the on-ramp.

  Snatching the walkie from the console, Derrick jammed his finger into the Talk button. “Technical on the right!” He tossed the walkie onto the passenger seat while at the same time crushing the gas pedal and charging forward.

  Gunfire poured from the machine gun, aimed right at him. Wanting to draw the gunfire away from the other vehicles in his group, Derrick sped up. The technical sped up too. It was working, but were others waiting to attack? He dearly hoped not because he couldn’t do anything to stop them from shooting at his group.

  The others are capable. It’s not all on me.

  The reminder helped him focus on his own problem—being shot at by a determined enemy. The technical was closing in on his tail and he had nowhere to go. He yanked his sidearm out of his holster, powered down the passenger window, then swerved to the left and slowed down enough to let the technical catch up with him.

  Bullets battered his truck. Ignoring that, he slammed on the brakes, letting the technical sail past him. Then he stomped on the gas, bolting forward, then braked, varying his speed, making himself harder to hit. Keeping a sharp eye on the machine gunner, when the man ran out of ammo, Derrick took advantage of the lull, surging forward. With his gun held in his outstretched right hand, he aimed in the direction of his open passenger window. He aligned with the gunner, then slowed his speed to match that of the truck before pulling the trigger in quick succession until the man was hit, tumbling out of the bed of the pickup truck and onto the asphalt of I-80.

  Next, Derrick turned his attention to the driver, coming up alongside him. The man was no idiot. His gun was pointed out his window toward Derrick. Quickly backing off, after a moment Derrick sped up and twisted his steering wheel to the right, clipping the bumper of the enemy truck. To Derrick’s satisfaction, the truck spun out of control, slamming into the guardrail before coming to a stop.

  Derrick slowed, his eyes on the driver. Blood poured down the man’s forehead and a deflated airbag sagged from the steering wheel. But the man stayed in his seat, his eyes open.

  These men had attacked without provocation. If Derrick didn’t do something to stop them, the next travelers probably wouldn’t survive. With a grimace, Derrick turned his truck around and approached the truck with caution. Fifty feet away, and with the technical on the left side of his truck, Derrick watched the man. Could Derrick shoot him in cold blood on the chance—the very high chance—that he would attack others? Not sure, Derrick stared at the man as his truck crept closer.

  The man glared back. Derrick had his gun in his right hand but kept it in his lap. When it came down to it, he didn’t want to kill someone who was helpless and injured. But what about the next driver that came along, innocent and unsuspecting? What if they had children with them? What if Derrick could prevent a tragedy?

  Undecided, he drifted closer.

  Five feet from the truck, Derrick lifted his gun but kept it held low. Four feet, three feet, two feet. His gun was just below his window. He looked directly into the man’s eyes. They were filled with hatred.

  Heart pounding with indecision, all he had to do was raise his gun a few inches and it would all be over. But he hated the idea of shooting a man in cold blood. What if the man had a family of his own? Then again, he and his buddy had come out of nowhere to attack Derrick and his friends unprovoked.

  The man shifted in his seat. Sun glinted off metal. A gun came into view, tipping in Derrick’s direction. Not hesitating a moment, Derrick lifted his gun the two inches necessary to clear his window frame and pulled the trigger. The man fell back, a hole in his forehead.

  Shoulders sagging as he exhaled, Derrick stopped and shifted his truck into park. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but the man had drawn on him, giving him no choice. It had been the right thing—the only thing—to do.

  After verifying that no other enemy vehicles were around, he climbed out of his truck. Scanning the interior of the truck, he saw the gun the man had held plus two additional weapons and boxes of ammo.

  “What did you find?” Jeff asked as he trotted up to Derrick.

  Derrick smiled grimly, then looked at Emily, Chris, and Matt as they joined him at the truck.

  “A few weapons to add to our arsenal.” Derrick chin-pointed to the bed of the truck. “That machine gun might come in
handy as well.”

  Chris grinned. “Absolutely.” He jumped into the bed of the truck and unmounted the machine gun. Jeff joined him, gathering up the extra ammo.

  Once they’d stowed the newly acquired weapons and ammo, both Derrick and Matt assessed their trucks for any engine or tire damage from the bullets that had hit them. Both trucks looked okay.

  The group gathered in a loose huddle around the hood of Derrick’s truck where he spread out a map of the area. Amy, Chris’s wife, as well as Jessica and her kids, joined them

  “It’s over a hundred miles before we reach Wendover,” Derrick said as he tapped a finger on the town just over the Utah border. “Most of those miles will be on the Salt Flats, which means…” He raised his eyebrows and turned to Dylan, testing the kid to see if he knew the answer.

  Wide-eyed, Dylan said, “Nowhere to hide?”

  Pleased he’d answered correctly, Derrick grinned. “That’s right for the most part. Even so,” he looked at each of the adults, “we have to assume there will be some sort of danger, so we need to stay on high alert at all times.”

  “Do you want me take point for a while?” Jeff asked.

  After the gunfight he’d just been in, Derrick was ready for a break. He nodded. “Yeah, that would be great.” He turned back to the map and pointed to a tiny dot. “We’ll reach this rest stop in about an hour, depending on our speed. Let’s stop there and regroup.”

  Heads nodded all around. They got into their respective vehicles, and with Jeff leading, they fell into line: Jeff, Matt, Chris, with Derrick taking up the rear.

  Chapter 7

  Jessica

  “Derrick’s a badass,” Dylan said with obvious admiration.

  Holding back a smile, Jessica glanced at Matt, who gave her a sideways look.

  “What do you mean?” Kayla asked. “Emily shot at those snipers when no one else did. I think she’s a badass.”

  “I want to be like that,” Brooke said, her voice soft like she didn’t want anyone but Kayla to hear. But Jessica had heard, and she felt the same way. She wanted to be like that too—able to take care of herself and her family instead of being scared and nervous all the time.

  Shifting in her seat, she faced the kids. “We can all be as brave as Emily and Derrick.”

  Matt placed his hand on hers. She turned to him with a smile. One side of his mouth quirked up, then he said, “You already are.”

  Eyebrows pulling together, she stared at him. “Why do you say that?”

  “When that bullet flew past you, you didn’t freak out.”

  “No, but I cried.”

  Smiling softly, he put both hands on the steering wheel, glancing at her as he spoke. “Only because you regretted stopping. Not out of fear.”

  He was right. Her confidence grew. “Huh.”

  He laughed.

  The drive across the Salt Flats was one of the most boring drives, and usually Jessica dozed for the two-hours it took to cross it. But that was before. Now, she couldn’t fall asleep if she wanted to. Instead, her eyes were constantly scanning, scanning, scanning. She hadn’t seen any people walking on I-80, but it had only been fifteen minutes.

  A flash of metal caught her eye. It was a car. Traveling east. There were two lanes in each direction with a wide area in between. Sage brush and flat white salty ground lay in the space. No concrete barriers. The median could be easily traversed.

  Was the driver of the car in the opposing lane friend or enemy? Dangerous or harmless? Was he alone? Were other cars not far behind? Would the driver cross into the westbound lanes and cause trouble? Shoot at them?

  Two weeks earlier that thought would have been ludicrous. Now, it was a distinct possibility. Especially after being shot at several times that day already.

  “Car approaching in the eastbound lane,” Jeff said over the walkie. “Over.”

  “Copy,” the others said.

  Jessica’s heart thudded dully in her chest. Then the words she’d said to her children less than fifteen minutes earlier filled her mind. We can all be as brave as Emily and Derrick. This was her chance to prove it, to show her children that they could all be brave. She straightened her shoulders and touched the gun at her hip.

  Moments later the car passed them by. No shooting.

  Exhaling audibly, Jessica began to relax. Not everyone was out to get them or to take what they had.

  They drove on, passing a few people walking on the shoulder, and eventually they cautiously followed Jeff into the rest stop parking lot.

  No other cars were there and no people were visible, but there were plenty of places to hide.

  When their truck came to a stop, Jessica reached for her door.

  “Hang on,” Matt said, stopping her.

  She turned to look at him.

  “We need to clear the place before you and the kids get out.”

  “I can help,” Dylan said from the back seat.

  Jessica was about to tell him no when Matt said, “That’s a great idea.”

  Scowling at him, Jessica was about to argue when she had a better idea. “The girls and I should help too.”

  Matt’s eyebrows shot up and Jessica wanted to take back what she’d said. Then Kayla leaned forward and said, “Count me in.”

  Half hoping Matt would tell Kayla no, but also knowing this was something they all had to learn how to do, Jessica gazed at him, waiting to see what he would say.

  His lips compressed as his eyes went to each of them. Finally, he said, “Yeah. Okay.” Without another word, he opened his door and hopped out.

  “Yes!” Dylan said with a note of triumph.

  Tossing Dylan and the girls an encouraging smile, Jessica was pleased to see a look of grim determination on the faces of both Kayla and Brooke.

  “We are brave, Mom,” Kayla said.

  Feeling her courage growing, Jessica nodded. “Yes, we are.”

  They all got out. Moments later they stood with the rest of their group. Jessica’s gaze went to Amy and her young children. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Chris’s wife, but the poor woman looked exhausted. Traveling with young children under normal circumstances wasn’t easy. Being under constant threat would make it ten times harder.

  “We need to clear the building and the surrounding area,” Derrick said. He made assignments, leaving out Jessica and her kids.

  “Hang on,” Matt said.

  Derrick turned to him with a question on his face. “What is it?”

  “Jessica and the kids need to learn how to clear a building.”

  Pleased that Matt was speaking up for them, Jessica slipped her hand into his. He squeezed gently.

  Derrick nodded. “Yeah. The more trained people in our group, the less burden it is on the rest of us.”

  Jessica hadn’t thought of it that way, but she definitely wanted to carry her own weight. And she knew that the more she was able to do, the more her confidence would grow. Same for her children.

  “Okay,” Derrick said, “Dylan’s with me, Kayla with Jeff, Brooke and Cleo with Chris, Jessica with Matt. Emily, stay with Amy and her kids. This shouldn’t take long.” He told them which area to clear. She and Matt were assigned to clear the men’s restroom. “Meet back here after you clear your assigned area.”

  They all nodded.

  Glad Derrick had assigned her to stay with Matt, as they approached the building, she noticed a sign that said Watch for snakes and scorpions. Arching an eyebrow, she looked at Matt, who chuckled.

  They walked toward the glass-fronted building that held both the men’s and women’s bathrooms. Matt stopped outside the door and took out his gun. He told her to do the same. Eyes widening, Jessica felt her heart skip a beat. This was suddenly all too real. What if she had to shoot someone?

  Then she remembered how terrifying it had been when that bullet had flown past her hours earlier. She couldn’t allow someone to threaten her or her family. Besides, most likely no one was in there.

  She pulled th
e 9mm from her waist.

  Matt watched her. “Is it ready to fire?”

  “I don’t know.” She hated her lack of expertise.

  “Rack the slide.”

  She did. He showed her how to tell if the safety was off. It was.

  Smiling grimly, he nodded. “Now it’s ready.” His smile vanished. “Stay behind me.” Jeff and Kayla, who were assigned to clear the women’s bathroom, were right behind them. Jessica looked at Kayla, who had a gun in her hands and a look of grim determination on her young face.

  The sight sent a thrum of sadness and pride through Jessica. It was better that Kayla knew how to defend herself than be afraid of guns.

  Matt peered through the glass door. After a moment, he pulled it open and stepped through, his gun held low and ready. Jessica stayed close to him.

  She heard Jeff and Kayla enter behind them, but a moment later they went toward the women’s restroom whereas she and Matt went toward the men’s restroom.

  Matt paused outside the door. He looked at her with raised eyebrows. Heart rate increasing, she nodded.

  Leading with his gun, Matt stepped into the men’s room. Jessica studied his every move. She knew he wasn’t an expert, but Derrick had trained him. That was good enough for her.

  Light filtered in from the high windows along the wall.

  As Jessica crossed the threshold, she realized this was the first time she’d been inside a men’s room. A slight odor of urine permeated the air and the place was definitely less clean than women’s restrooms usually were.

  Pushing aside those pointless thoughts, she watched Matt as he cleared the first stall, and when he motioned for her to do the other one, she inhaled sharply—then immediately regretted it, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

  Matt chuckled and shook his head.

  She tossed him a smile before turning her focus back to the stall she was about to clear. It seemed likely that it was empty, which made it easier to push the door open all the way. No one was inside.