by Nick Randall
Covered by Jon’s Glock, Roy circled around the corner and dashed down the alley towards a side door, before taking up position behind a rusty green garbage dumpster.
“Cover me,” Jon whispered to Josie, and he dashed over to meet Jon at the dumpster.
“This the same apartment building?” Roy asked.
“Sure is,” Jon responded. “Keep your voice low buddy. I’ll clear it.”
With Roy peeking head and Beretta around the dumpster to check for hostiles, Jon circled around to the side door that entered into the apartment.
He slowly creaked it open and then disappeared inside.
Roy and Josie held their positions at the dumpster and corner respectively, until Jon’s face reappeared in the blackness that was the opened side door.
“We’re clear,” he whispered. “Come on inside.”
Roy gestured to Josie, who upon being signaled quickly but quietly dashed down the alley past Roy and into the side door.
After completing a final scan to check for any hostiles, Roy entered the side door last and carefully shut it behind them.
The interior of the lowest level of the apartment was nearly pitch black, with what little light there was coming from the dim blue moonlight breaking through the shattered windows.
“Flashlights,” Jon said, and a moment later the three of them had withdrawn their flashlights from their pockets. “Keep them to minimum brightness. Josie, stay here and keep an eye out. You best keep your light turned off.”
Josie did as she was told, taking up cover behind the wall next to the blown out window.
Meanwhile, Roy and Jon disappeared into the restroom where they had hidden their weapons, and less than thirty seconds later they re-emerged each with a crossbow and compound bow in hand, in addition to bolts and arrows.
“You know how to use one of these?” Jon asked Josie as he held up his crossbow.
Josie shook her head.
“Real simple,” said Jon, loading a bolt. “Aim and pull the trigger. It’s not as quiet as you see in the movies, so use it wisely.”
Before Josie could protest or say anything, Jon had already placed the heavy crossbow into her arms. It felt awkward and heavy and she struggled with holding it properly.
“Careful!” Roy pushing the muzzle end of the crossbow away from him.
He slung his own crossbow across his back and fixed an arrow to the string of his compound.
“You know where the insulin is, right?” Jon asked.
“I think so,” said Josie. “We left it with the bikes when we were fired upon.”
“And you know where the bikes are?”
“Just up the street I think. Next to the house we were in. We could probably see them from here if it was daylight.”
“Let’s make this quick,” Roy said. “We gotta get back to the house and Alex. If we were watched leaving, they would know the place is vulnerable.”
“It’s okay, if anyone breaks through the front door Ben has a gun I gave him,” Josie assured.
“You gave him a gun?!” Roy exclaimed furiously.
“Sssshhh!” Jon hushed.
“Yes, I did,” Josie held her ground. “I know you’re not overly happy about the whole Ben situation, but I trust him, and I trust his ability to use a gun if he has to defend Alex.”
Roy’s mouth was gaping open. He could hardly believe what his wife was telling him.
“I can’t believe you did that,” he tried to keep his voice down, but he was pissed beyond all recognition. “Him alone in the house with our daughter, and with a loaded gun for godsake! Listen hon, I don’t care how much you say you know or trust him — ”
“In his state, I wouldn’t trust his ability to do anything,” Jon cut Roy off. “Now enough of all this. You’re sure the insulin is up the street?”
“With the bicycles, yes,” said Josie. “It will be in a small blue cooler. There’s also some books, maps, and little first aid packs.”
“Okay, but if it’s not there like you say it is, we’re heading back to the house right away,” Jon said. “And don’t waste time with all the other junk. The insulin is what we came for and that’s all we’re taking for now. Understand?
Josie nodded affirmatively.
“Say it,” said Jon. “Because I’m not risking my life for medicine that isn’t there and neither are the two of you. So if it’s not all there and you still refuse to leave — ”
“I understand,” Josie interrupted, glaring at him.
“I say we send one person up the street,” Roy suggested, but the tone of his voice clearly indicated that he still hadn’t gotten over the fact that he knew Ben had a gun back at the house. “The other two can stay back here to provide cover.”
“I’ll do it,” Josie volunteered. “I’m the smallest and the fastest.”
“You’re also the least experienced,” Jon countered. “It’s either me or Roy.”
Roy looked at Josie and then back at Jon.
“If she says she can do it, she can,” he said. “And she’s right, she’ll be harder to hit if we’re being watched.”
Jon relented.
“Fine, but you run up and you run back,” he said. “Do not hesitate. Forty five seconds max. Got it?”
Josie nodded and set her crossbow down.
Jon and Roy set their own bows down and then drew their sidearms to provide cover.
“Wait until I say to go,” said Jon.
He and Roy crouched and waddled over to where the front windows were to cover Josie down the street.
“Now!”
Josie leapt between Jon and Roy out the front window and her feet hit the pavement of the street. She took off running, splashing through puddles in potholes and past abandoned vehicles.
She disappeared into the darkness up the road.
“Dammit, I’ve lost her!” Roy struggled to peer through the darkness.
“Hold tight, buddy, she’ll be back soon enough,” Jon assured.
Josie ran past the house she and Ben had taken cover in and just up ahead she could see their abandoned bicycles coming into view in the middle of the road.
She reached the fallen bikes and fell to her knees. Hurriedly, she began rummaging around the rucksacks that they had left behind, and to her relief, the small blue container was still there.
“Yes!” she told herself excitedly.
But the big smile of relief on her face quickly turned upside down into a frown of dread and panic when she opened the cooler to see it was completely empty.
There was no insulin. There was nothing. Nothing but colorless air.
WHERE HAD IT GONE?!
“No, no, no…” she shut the cooler and then opened it up again, hoping the insulin would magically reappear, but the inside of the cooler remained barren.
Suddenly, Josie was blinded a massive spotlight that enveloped her world!
“STOP!” a voice shouted.
Josie froze. Images of the gang members and the military helicopters at the homestead flooded her mind. Her heart stopped and adrenaline of fear began to paralyze her body. She shook vigorously from head to toe.
“Hands in the air, hands in the air!” the voice continued.
Josie held up her quavering hands, not in surrender, but to try and block the light that was blinding her vision.
After a few seconds she thought she could see the spotlight was coming from the open window of one of the houses on the street. There were at least two men she could see with long guns aimed at her on either side of the spotlight.
“On your knees!” the voice above her was booming relentlessly.
The spotlight moved away from her face down towards the ground, and subsequently Josie was able to get a slightly clearer picture of what was threatening her: in addition to the two armed men on either side of the spotlight above her, there were no less than three more figures in the other windows aiming guns at her and another two on the street approaching cautiously.
“On yo
ur knees!” the voice screamed again.
Josie backed up a few spaces, still holding her hands high. There were open doors and windows in the building behind her that she could make a run for. She wasn’t surrounded. But if she were to drop on her knees, she would officially be surrendering, and that would be the end of it.
“ON! YOUR! KNEES!” the voice from above yelled more slowly and deliberately this time. “This is your final chance to surrender!”
“Not good,” Jon said from his and Roy’s position back at the building. “They’ve got her.”
“No they don’t,” Roy responded. “We can open fire from here.”
“With pistols?” Jon asked in disbelief. “We’d be lucky to hit the broadside of a barn from here.”
“We just need to distract them,” Roy said hurriedly.
“And giveaway our position — ” Jon started to say.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! Before Jon had completed his sentence Roy began popping off rounds at the spotlight with his Beretta.
“Looks like we should have brought the AR’s after all,” Jon resigned, and then a second later he joined Roy by opening fire with his Glock.
The bullets smacked into the walls of the house around the armed men. They turned their weapons in the direction where Roy and Jon were shooting from and opened up.
Josie wasted no time. The moment she heard Roy and Jon open fire, she made a decision and turned and bolted for the open front door of the house directly behind her.
More bullets from the armed men danced around her feet or struck the wall, but in less than two seconds she had disappeared into the darkness of the door.
Meanwhile, taking incoming fire from their position both Roy and Jon immediately dove for cover.
“Let’s get outta here!” Jon tried to make his voice heard over the gunfire as he reloaded. “They got rifles!”
“What about Josie?!”
“We’ll find her!”
Jon scooped up one of the crossbows and made a beeline for the exit side door they had entered. Roy picked up one of the compound bows and a handful of arrows to follow him, leaving the other two bows behind.
“Ceasefire!” Josie could hear the men outside yelling, and the gunfire slowed down before stopping completely.
It was only then that she remembered she had the gun Jon had given her, and she yanked it free from its holster and assembled a firm two handed combat group.
“She went into the house in front of us!” she could hear one of the men saying once the gunfire had stopped.
“Send two men in, carefully!” she heard another. “The bitch is armed! Take her alive if possible!”
Josie gripped her pistol even tighter. She could hear a series of footsteps running across the street towards the house.
She whipped around the wall she was taking cover behind to face the front door, her weapon held high. There were two men in single file line at the doorway.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Three shots later and the first man was dead on the ground and the second had hurriedly sidestepped out of the way.
The moment after she had fired the third shot Josie turned and ran through the house towards the back door.
The walls and furniture around her were torn apart as the second man blind fired his automatic rifle throughout the house.
With windows shattering to pieces around her, she leapt out the backdoor and crashed into the gravel of the backyard.
Picking herself up to her feet, she carried herself on down the street. Up ahead, she could make out the figures of Roy and Jon moving tactically towards her position from up the street.
“Roy, Jon!” she waved and called out.
“Josie! Are you hit?!” Roy ran up to her in relief and embraced her, checking her over for any signs of gunshot wounds or injury.
“I’m okay, I’m okay!” Josie assured. “But the insulin, it wasn’t there, Roy! Somebody had taking it!”
“Never mind that!” Roy said. “We were ambushed! They were waiting for us! They knew we were coming!”
“Hands up!”
Josie turned to see the second man had caught up to them. Now that he was closer, it was evident he was wearing a ski mask over his face and had an AK-47 with a red dot sight raised and ready to fire.
“I said hands up!” he repeated. “I want those bows and guns on the ground.”
Roy gestured behind the man.
“What’s that behind you?” he asked.
The man fell for it like the idiot he was, turning his head around, and Josie, Roy, and Jon each took immediate advantage of the opportunity to raise and fire their pistols multiple times simultaneously.
The masked man with the AK stood no chance. Struck repeatedly in the legs, arms, shoulders, and torso by nearly a dozen 9mm bullets, he was unable to get a single shot off. His weapon clanked to the pavement as he himself crumpled to his knees and then to his back.
Roy stepped over, pistol raised, and tore off the now dying man’s mask with a swift motion of his hand. The man was revealed to be an ordinary looking unshaven fellow in his 30s.
“Who are you?!” Roy asked without hesitation or a hint of sympathy in his voice.
The man was coughing up blood, and lots of it.
“Who are you?!” Roy pressed. “You and the other men in your militia, who are you?! I want to know! NOW!!”
“We gotta go, buddy,” said Jon, keeping his eyes and pistol aimed down the dark alleyway for any more potential hostiles.
“Not yet!” Roy snapped angrily. “We need to know who they are!”
He pressed his foot down on one of the man’s leg wounds and he screamed in pain.
“Answer!” Roy shouted again.
“ROY!” Josie couldn’t take it anymore.
“Okay, okay!” the wounded man cried as Roy finally released the pressure. “Listen, we’re just following orders. That’s all we’re doing! It’s nothing personal against you!”
“Orders from who?” Roy asked, more calmly this time. “Who’s orders?”
The man was coughing up more blood. He was on the verge of imminent death.
“WHO?!” Roy asked again, this time pressing the muzzle of his Beretta to the dying man’s forehead. “You’ll get a quick death if you answer now.”
“Ne…Ne…Nero,” the man, literally drowning in his own blood, managed to gasp out before his hoarse breathing stopped and he fell limp.
“Nero?” Roy asked out loud, mostly to himself.
He looked in bewilderment at Jon and Josie.
“Let’s go,” Jon said. “We have to go now if we want to make it back to the house before they do.”
“And then what?” asked Josie.
“And then we mount the defense,” Jon said. “Because there’s going to be a lot more coming.”
Chapter 7
“Ten miles! A major milestone, my amigos! Finally, we’re making good progress!” Ojo exclaimed and honked the horn a few times to show his excitement.
With Ojo’s foot pressed firmly on the gas pedal, the old red GMC truck was barreling down the road, past abandoned newer vehicles that had long been left behind. Sure, the truck may have been old and rusty and seen better days, but its lack of a computerized system meant it was invulnerable to any kind of an EMP blast or solar storm, and it was now one of the most precious possessions that any person could have.
Jonah was asleep, or at least pretending to be, and Spider was struggling to ignore Ojo jabbering away in the driver’s seat about the crimes he and Dominic had committed for the last half hour.
“Well, back to the house on Applewood Street,” Ojo resumed his aimless story. “Amigos, burning that thing down sure what they called a ‘doozy.’ I already had three under my belt, so I let Dominic light the match on that one. Just the look in his eyes when I handed him the match, I’ll never forget. And watching it burn with my hand over his shoulder, breathing in all that smoke, I felt proud, you know? Almost as if I were his father and not his old
er brother. Only time I really felt that way. Weird, huh, amigos? But anyway, if you think arson was the worst of the crimes we did when we rolled the streets, oh shit guys, are you in for a treat with this other story I got. Happened no less than seven years ago, amigos, I tell you it was the time of our young lives…”
It was funny earlier to Spider because it was clear Ojo honestly believed that he and Jonah were listening. But now, Spider had heard enough. Ojo had told exactly thirteen stories, and now he was getting ready for his fourteenth without as little as a five second break.
Spider couldn’t take it anymore. He rolled his eyes and went for it.
“So where are we headed anyway?” Spider suddenly spoke up and interrupted Ojo.
Spider’s interjection took Ojo completely by surprise and his mouth snapped shut. He glared across the seat at Spider, who was beginning to second guess whether or not interrupting was the right move.
“I thought I made this clear before,” Ojo’s voice now had a hint of anger and frustration in it, a complete reversal from the blissful enjoyment he was having from telling his stories. “To find that homesteading bastard who killed my baby brother and fled away in his rickety truck like a damn coward!”
“Right,” Spider tried to keep calm. “But where is he? Don’t we need some kind of a plan, or somethin’? Otherwise we’re just gonna drive on down this road ’til we hit Cali. And by then we’ll be long outta gas.”
“Hmm, where is that homesteading bastard?” Ojo asked, tapping his chin. “You think I have all the answers, amigo? You think I have a magic snow globe or some shit like that can tell us exactly where he is?”
“So we don’t have a plan then?”
“Why the hell do we need a plan? We just gotta keep hunting ‘till we find him. I know we will.”
“Well, we had a plan when we raided the homestead, and it sorta worked. So having a plan now would be kinda intelligent, is all I’m saying.”
“Alright, amigo. Tell me your plan. Your big, beautiful plan. Shall we stop and find a school so you can give us a detailed presentation in the classroom while we’re at it?”
“Relax, bro,” Spider was far past annoyed. “Coming up with a plan is simple. All we gotta do is think about where this guy would have gone, and then we go there and look for him. No different then hunting for a sorry ass kid who ran away from home.”
