Rolling Thunder - 03

by Dirk Patton

  “Is that a full mag in that AK?” I was referring to the guard’s rifle.

  “Yes. 30 with another 30 taped to it.” She answered. I hadn’t noticed the spare magazine.

  “Will it go full auto or is it legal?”

  “Full. What do you have in mind?” She moved in front of Rachel so we could talk while I kept the assholes in the warehouse occupied. Rachel looked ready to shoot her. What is it with women? I wasn’t even involved with Rachel, was married to someone else, yet here she was acting like I was betraying her or something. I put her problems out of my mind and focused on the task at hand.

  “We need to keep these guys occupied long enough to get out of here. You two in the cab with Dog. Get him on the floor. I want that AK out the passenger window and when I get behind the wheel you need to keep their heads down so we can get the hell out of here.”

  “You got it.” Melanie said and wasted no time in climbing up and scooting all the way across the bench seat, Rachel and Dog right behind her. “Ready!”

  I fired two more rounds at body parts I could see, smiling when one of them blasted a knee cap that had been carelessly stuck into the open. The owner fell across the opening and I followed up with a round to his head, slung the rifle at my side and jumped up into the cab. I slapped off the parking brake, pressed in the clutch and rammed the truck into reverse. No sooner had I started us moving than Melanie opened up with the AK on full auto, leaning out the passenger window and expertly controlling her rate of fire. With enough room in front I slammed on the brakes, jammed the gear shift into first and floored the throttle. The big turbo diesel engine spun up and we shot forward, the turbo whistling as it reached full speed before I slammed us into second and bounced across a curb and into the street.

  Melanie was leaning way out of the window and firing directly behind us at this point, pausing to change magazines before pulling the trigger and holding it as she hosed down the front of the building. It didn’t take long for the AK to run out of ammo and she sat back in her seat and leaned forward to look in the mirror bolted to the outside of her door. She watched for a bit then ducked and shouted “incoming!”

  Rachel instantly ducked and leaned into me. Moments later bullets started slamming into the cab of the truck. There were screams from the women in the back, one of them most likely taking a round. The mirror in the middle of the windshield shattered when a bullet came through the cab and struck it, then two more holes appeared in the windshield. I started swerving the truck as much as I could, but these things aren’t exactly sports cars and it takes a lot of wheel turn to get a little movement. I did the best I could and it must have been good enough because no more rounds hit us. By now I was in fourth gear and stayed on the throttle when an abandoned Toyota loomed up out of the dark. The heavy steel bumper smashed it to the side, the truck barely shuddering and not slowing from the impact. God I love military vehicles!

  We roared around a curve in the road and Melanie leaned way out her window to look behind us. “No signs of pursuit.” She pulled herself back into the cab.

  “Do you know how to get to the train station?” I shouted over the noise from the rain, wind and roar of the engine.

  “Stay on this road. I’ll tell you where to turn when we get there.” She shouted back.

  I wanted to talk to her and get her story, but it was just too loud in the truck. Besides, all we had to do was make the train and there would be plenty of time for talking once we were aboard. I looked over quickly to make sure everyone was OK with no bullet holes and didn’t see anything to worry me. Dog was squeezed into the passenger side foot-well and Rachel had her legs tucked behind mine to give him room and not interfere with me shifting gears. Dog was sitting up looking at us and raised a paw onto Rachel’s leg. There was enough light from the dash to see the blood that started soaking into her pants.

  Rachel reached over and grabbed the flashlight off my rifle, clicked it on and leaned forward to check Dog. I had to focus on my driving, smashing through a couple more abandoned vehicles and keeping an eye on my side mirror for signs of pursuit from the guys at the warehouse. I had just been starting to think we were free and clear, then saw two sets of lights bounce over a rise in the road a half a mile behind us. Rachel clicked the light off and snapped it back onto my rifle, telling me Dog had lost a nail and part of a toe, but was OK otherwise. I didn’t have time to worry about him right now.

  “We’ve got company! Half a mile back and closing.” I shouted. I pressed harder on the throttle, but it was already on the floor and the truck maxed out at a blistering 60 miles per hour. These things weren’t built for speed. “How far to the turn?”

  Melanie looked around quickly before answering, “Two miles, I think.”

  Shit. They’d catch us before we got to the turn. They couldn’t run us off the road with the light pickups they had, but they could sure as hell catch up and start pumping bullets into us or our tires. I glanced over my shoulder and confirmed there was an opening behind the seat into the cargo area. Shouting for Rachel to drive I let off the throttle long enough for her to slide across my lap and take the wheel as I clambered up and over the seat back and into the cargo area.

  The women in back were sprawled across the floor, trying to hold on and I couldn’t help but step on arms and legs as I made my way to the back of the truck. Yanking the flap of canvas out of the way I handed it to the woman closest to me and told her to hang on to it so it didn’t get in my way. On my knees I looked out at the quickly approaching trucks and raised my rifle, taking aim at the lead truck’s windshield. I couldn’t see the driver behind the glass, but that didn’t matter. Rifle in burst mode I pulled the trigger twice in quick succession, sending six rounds into the cab.

  At first I didn’t think my shots had done any good, but the truck slowly started to drift to its left, moving faster and faster until it slammed head on into a steel street light pole at an intersection. The pole didn’t move and the truck disintegrated when it hit. The other truck swerved around the wreckage and kept coming, the driver weaving at random times to try and prevent me from getting a shot. I had his rhythm figured out and was starting to pull the trigger when Rachel hit the brakes and skidded into a turn. I was thrown off balance and tumbled across the floor, ending up in a pile with three of the women who had also been thrown by the sudden change in direction.

  Fighting my way free of the tangle of limbs as well as centrifugal force, I crawled to the back of the cargo area and looked out. The second truck that had been pursuing was stopped at an angle in the intersection we had just passed through. As I watched, it reversed, turned and disappeared back the way we had come from. What the hell? That question was answered a moment later when Rachel hit the brakes, too hard, and I wound up in another pile of women at the front of the cargo area. There was a point in my life when this would have been a fantasy come true. Now it was just a pain in the ass.

  “Why are you stopping?” I shouted to Rachel, grimacing as one of the women stepped on my left hand as she climbed out of the pile.

  “Roadblock,” was the answer.

  Now I’m as chivalrous as the next guy, probably more so or my dad would have kicked my ass when I was growing up, but that news got me moving and pushing struggling women out of my way. Reaching the back of the truck I swung a leg over the short tail gate and dropped to the ground. Moving around the truck I was surprised to see the mob of people filling the street right in front of the truck. The street we were on wasn’t wide, just a single traffic lane in each direction with a narrow turn lane down the middle, but it was clogged with bodies. I couldn’t see far to tell how deep the mob was and hopped up on the driver side running board to talk to Melanie. Dog had moved up onto the seat earlier when I’d climbed into the back and when I appeared at the open window he stepped into Rachel’s lap to greet me. With a grunt she pushed him away, looked at me and pointed through the windshield.

  From the higher vantage point the truck provided I could see ov
er the heads of the crowd and spotted the bottleneck. Not more than a block in front of us were two cops with half a dozen men standing behind them. They had blocked the road and seemed to be looking for someone as they would occasionally pull a person out of the crowd and send them to stand in a parking lot next to the road. Was this really the right time to be doing this?

  “Notice anything wrong with this picture?” Rachel asked.

  I looked at the crowd, the cops and their helpers, but didn’t see anything.

  “Look at the parking lot,” Rachel said, exasperation clear in her voice.

  I looked where she indicated and got pissed off all over again. Every person in the parking lot was female, and from here they all looked fairly young and attractive. You’ve got to be kidding me. These guys were that brazen? Movement at the roadblock drew my attention and I watched a pickup drive up behind them. Two men got out and ran up to the ones manning the roadblock where they started having an animated conversation. There was lots of arm waving and then one of the new arrivals started pointing in our direction.

  There’s two ways to deal with people like this. You can try to avoid them and get on with your day, or you can confront them head on and hurt them bad enough that they decide to run away. Avoiding bullies isn’t in my DNA. I don’t like them and quite honestly, in my day, have had some fun putting bullies in their place.

  “I’m going to put a stop to this. Are you with us?” I asked Melanie.

  “Yes.” She answered with a frown on her face. “But I don’t think it’s going to work to try to arrest them.”

  “Arresting isn’t what I have in mind.” I answered. I had Rachel give her one of the pistols we’d taken off the men we’d killed outside the warehouse. I was kicking myself for not having brought the shotgun, but it got left behind when we traded the Nissan for the deuce-and-a-half.

  “Melanie, the days of civil obedience to the law are over. Not only do we need to get past these guys to get to the train, I don’t like what they’re doing. You’re right about arresting them not working. You know what the alternative is, but let me be very clear. If they aren’t willing to just walk away there’s going to be blood. There’s going to be bodies on the ground. Are you OK with that, or do you want to get out here?” I looked across the cab at her, Rachel turning to gauge her reaction as well.

  She looked back at us for a moment, turned to look at what was going on at the road block then made up her mind.

  “I’m in. Let’s stop these fuckers.”

  20

  I had Rachel and Mel, she liked the shortened version of her name, climb into the back of the truck then slipped behind the wheel. A quick check of my weapons and I was ready to go. Sounding the truck’s air horn I revved the big diesel and let the clutch out just enough to cause the truck to start rolling. Slowly the crowd parted, frightened and angry faces looking up at me as I pushed through. It took a couple of minutes to make it to the road block. Arriving, I intentionally kept the truck rolling when the two uniformed cops stepped in front of it with their hands raised for me to stop. There was a moment when I thought they were actually going to keep standing there until the massive front bumper bulled them aside, but at the last second they both jumped back with angry shouts.

  Introduction complete I knocked the shifter into neutral, set the parking brake and hopped down to the ground with Dog on my heels. The two cops were already striding towards the driver’s side of the truck, the anger obvious on their faces, and I stood waiting for them. My rifle was slung on the front of my body, my right hand resting on the pistol grip. They came charging around the front of the truck and saw me standing there with Dog. One of them faltered when he saw us, but the other kept right on coming. He had his baton in his left hand, gripping it tightly as he advanced.

  “What the hell is going on here, officer?” I barked out in my best military growl. I was going to give them a chance to get out of this in one piece.

  “You’re under arrest,” he answered, face florid from his anger. “Take those weapons off and get on your knees.”

  He was an arm’s length in front of me and had come to a stop. He was big and beefy, and probably fairly strong, but he was used to his size and the uniform intimidating people. I was going to have to disappoint him.

  “Officer, I know what you’re doing here. Now this can go two ways. You and your buddies get in your vehicles and drive away, without those women you’ve pulled out of the crowd.” He stood staring at me and I could see the wheels turning. We stayed like that, frozen, staring each other down for nearly half a minute.

  “You said two ways.” I knew he would have to ask.

  “You won’t like the second option. It involves pain, and probably not very many of you living for more than the next couple of minutes.” Now I’m not one of those guys that likes to threaten. It’s always seemed like a waste of time to me to talk about what I’m going to do before I do it, but I was playing to my audience and had a goal in mind.

  I saw the flicker of uncertainty pass across his face then he looked around to make sure the other men still had his back. Just as I’d hoped, they’d moved in tighter to be able to hear the conversation. They had bunched up when they should have stayed spread out. I let a smile spread across my face, knowing I must look rather fearsome with blood still running down the side of my head from the wounds I had taken fighting the female infected in the warehouse. Some people, however, have either lost the inner lizard brain that tells them they are in mortal danger, or they choose to ignore it. Whatever the case was with him, he made the final mistake of his life when he reached forward to grab my vest.

  Instead of pulling away I stepped into his reach, grasped his hand, twisted his arm until his palm was facing him and snapped his wrist. I didn’t let go, hanging on tight as I drew my pistol, pressed the muzzle to his forehead and pulled the trigger. If I had still had the .45 I’d acquired in Atlanta the round would have blown a hole out of the back of his head and hit one of his friends, but the lower powered 9 mm hollow point stayed inside his skull. Either way he was dead, the body dropping to the ground.

  After I pulled the trigger there was a moment of absolute silence, from his buddies as well as the crowd pressed up at my back. I kept the pistol up and pointed at the face of the second cop who was less than ten feet away. The silence stretched until one of the men at the edge of the group started to reach for his pistol. I caught the movement out of the corner of my eye but before I could react Dog snarled and attacked. They fell to the ground, the man screaming as Dog clamped down on his wrist. The man next to him turned and started to raise his shotgun in Dog’s direction, but a shot from behind me sounded and he kept spinning around and fell to the ground with a gout of blood from a bullet hole in his neck.

  Everyone else froze again, staring over my shoulder. I knew they were looking at Rachel as the shot I’d heard had been her suppressed rifle, not the pistol Mel was carrying. I called Dog off, figuring the man was now too chewed up to use that hand for anything. Dog gave another snarl then released his hold and trotted over to stand a couple of feet to my side, facing the group with bloody fangs showing. None of them moved.

  “Last chance,” I said. “Lay your weapons on the ground and leave, or more of you are going to die.”

  The group stood and stared at me, some of them frightened and some angry. It was the angry ones I had to watch and a moment later there was movement at the back of the group as one of them who had been staring at me with clenched teeth raised his rifle in my direction. I didn’t have a shot but a loud pistol spoke from the right side of the truck and he dropped dead into a large puddle of water.

  That was enough for the rest of the group. At first only one of them bent forward to lay his rifle on the ground, but that was like a dam breaking and soon they all disarmed themselves and started backing away towards their vehicles with hands up and empty. As the distance opened up I quickly holstered my pistol and raised the rifle to cover their retreat. In less than
a minute all of them had piled into their vehicles and sped off with lots of tire spinning on the wet asphalt. When the last vehicle turned a corner and drove out of sight, I lowered my rifle and looked around. Meeting Mel’s eyes I nodded my thanks even though she looked a little green around the gills.

  “That’s the first time I’ve ever shot another person.” She said.

  “You didn’t shoot a person, you saved me.” I said. I remembered my first time and knew there wasn’t anything more I could say to help her work through the emotions she was dealing with right now. Looking around for Rachel I found her at the back of the truck with a large portion of the crowd surrounding her. She was explaining to the people what was going on and the women in the back of the truck had pulled the canvas flaps open and were looking out at the crowd as Rachel spoke. This was all nice, but we had a train to catch. I turned to ask Mel where the station was but she had already walked over to the women in the parking lot. Several of them were crying and hugging her.

  Glancing at my new watch I wasn’t happy to see it was 2300. We had an hour. Assuming the train actually waited until midnight to leave. Assuming it could. What if the infected were moving faster than expected? It had been hours since I’d heard the midnight timeframe on the radio and as much as anyone I knew how fluid things could get when trying to evacuate ahead of a battle. For all I knew the last train could have pulled out already and we were about to be royally screwed by a few million pissed off infected. Time to move.

  Shouting for Rachel and Mel, I waved Dog up into the cab, turning my head when a hand grabbed my arm. It was a young boy, actually a teenager though still in his early teens. “Please help me. My brothers and I are trying to get my dad to the train but I don’t think we’re gonna make it.”

  I looked down at him and initially thought about telling him I had other responsibilities and couldn’t help everyone, but something made me rethink. I don’t know why. I generally have a pretty hard heart, or at least I think I do. Katie, my wife, tells me I’m just a big, dangerous teddy bear that wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it pissed me off first. Maybe she’s right. She usually is.