The Systemic Series - Box Set

by K. W. Callahan

  Recently, he’d heard it through a source of his that this particular trader kept his supplies well-secured but lightly guarded. Word on the street was that the trader only kept several guards at his supply site and a roaming guard dog.

  Jake liked the sounds of this. He’d had his men practice on a few smaller sites outside of town. Ava had recommended starting small, hitting traders that were just getting started and had yet to hire help – or pay for protection – in order to get their men better trained for larger operations. These raids had been relatively simple in nature and hadn’t garnered much in the way of loot. A few cases of booze, a couple crates of ammo, some cases of personal hygiene items, a couple handguns, a couple rifles, a five gallon tank of gasoline, nine small but full propane tanks, four cases of canned green beans, three cases of baked beans, two cases of salted peanuts, 36 boxes of cereal that were nearing their expiration dates, four cases of light beer, five pounds of dried meat sticks, a few cartons of cigarettes, about $40 face value worth of 90 percent silver Roosevelt dimes, and an assortment of batteries, condoms, candy bars, gum, and cigarette lighters.

  The paltry takes on these raids had left Jake feeling like it was time to move up in the world, time to take bigger risks, and hopefully time for greater rewards.

  The supply depot they’d chosen this time was in a three-story building near downtown that was nestled between two larger buildings, each five stories tall. Looking at it on the scouting mission, Jake and Ava both agreed that the trader must either be stupid or want to be robbed. They could have picked a dozen or more sites just on the way to the location that would have been better spots to secure such goods. But this spot was fine with them since it would make taking the place all that much easier.

  At first glance, the building looked like a real fortress and they figured that’s why the trader had probably chosen it. The windows of the building were buttoned up tight, all boarded over with plywood. The front door had a large steel plate bolted across it. It appeared that only the back entrance – beside which stood an armed guard – was used for access to or from the building.

  Jake and Ava both agreed that it wouldn’t take much firepower to eliminate the outside guard as a threat. However, they assumed that there was at least another guard, if not two or more, located somewhere inside the building, probably just inside the backdoor and probably well concealed and well armed so that they could mow down any intruders trying to enter through the sole entrance.

  Word had it that the trader himself didn’t reside at the supply dump, preferring to maintain a safe distance between him and his supplies. A “bitch move” Jake had called it, but probably a smart one considering their plans.

  For the attack itself, Jake broke the majority of his men – two of whom he’d leave behind to guard their own home base – up into small groups, each group moving into place in a separate vehicle. One vehicle containing two men would pull up first in front of the building just in case anything unexpected went down there or anyone inside tried to escape out the front. It would also help divert attention from the main assault and act as a mobile reserve if necessary. Two vehicles of two men each would cover the rear of the building and keep the guards there occupied. It was their job to quickly eliminate the outside guard and keep anyone else inside pinned down near the rear entrance by laying down heavy fire. Meanwhile, two of their best men – Mad Dog and Rambo – accompanied by Jake and Ava and a new man, Stiles, who Jake had hired specifically for this mission, would descend from the rooftop of one of the adjoining buildings.

  They’d picked up Mad Dog and Rambo at the Underground. The two men were working for an area trader as supply drivers; however, they looked more like professional wrestlers than drivers. Rambo was an ex-marine who knew guns, knives, and pretty much anything that went boom, bang or exploded. He had long black hair, just like in the movie, and a deep booming voice, just like in the movie…thus the nickname.

  Mad Dog actually had been a truck driver in his pre-flu life. He had long dirty-blonde hair, was bigger than Rambo, but not as chiseled in his physique, and had a sort of raspy way of talking.

  Jake looked ridiculously pathetic standing between the two men, like Olive Oil between Popeye and Bluto, but somehow he’d talked his talk and walked his walk well enough to lure the two men into his employment. Ava was amazed just how far a little confidence and self-promotional hype could get someone. But that was the age now. Brains were out and balls were in.

  Days in advance of their planned raid, Jake and Ava had ascended to the rooftop of the building next door to survey the top of the supply depot. There was a door on the depot’s rooftop that appeared to be welded shut, but this didn’t concern Jake. What did concern him was what lay behind that door. It could very well be booby-trapped, or his sources might be wrong and the building could be full of any number of guards that he knew nothing about. But that was why they had Stiles.

  Stiles was a real scumbag degenerate drunk who was good for little more than wasting oxygen. Therefore, he was perfect for this mission.

  Now, as they readied for the attack, Jake made sure that Stiles was liquored up on some especially potent grain alcohol that Jake had been saving for just such an occasion.

  Jake and Ava stood watching the assault from afar, perched high atop the neighboring rooftop. After the failed attack back in southern Illinois, they’d learned to risk their own personal safety only when absolutely necessary.

  Jake had done a bit more reading – well actually, Ava did the reading, Jake just did the listening – about how to use explosives since the previous failed attempt at the coin shop vault back in Memphis, and they’d learned what had gone wrong. Plus, now they had Rambo.

  As soon as the shooting started down in the alley, he watched as Mad Dog and Rambo set the charges at the rooftop door and then ducked to safety, having to drag the drunken Stiles to cover along with them in the process. Moments later, a massive blast erupted. As the smoke cleared, Jake could see the roof’s entry door hanging open, dangling askew, held to its frame by one sagging hinge.

  Jake watched as Rambo led Stiles and Mad Dog charging forward, guns at the ready. Just as they reached the open doorway, Rambo broke to the right. Stiles – who was just behind him – started to slow, but Mad Dog, who was bringing up the rear, gave him a mighty push that sent Stiles lunging headlong into the blackness of the open door. Mad Dog cut immediately left as both he and Rambo again took cover. Two seconds later another huge explosion issued from within the building, and a fireball rolled out the open rooftop doorway.

  “There goes old Stiles,” Jake sneered at Ava. “You were right. Guess it was booby-trapped.” He paused, and then said half to himself, “That fucking drunk couldn’t have done a better job for us if he’d tried.”

  Ava just kept watching as Mad Dog and Rambo waited a few seconds for the smoke to clear and then dashed though the open doorway.

  The entire assault took about four minutes from start to finish. Jake was proud of himself and his men’s efficiency. And while Ava had come up with most of the plan, Jake would never let on to this fact to his men.

  Once the few defenders inside were eliminated and the building was secured, Jake and Ava entered. They quickly found the bounty they’d hoped would be there and broke out several celebratory bottles of tequila from their take to pass among the men. While the men drank and reveled in the success of their efforts, Jake and Ava took inventory of their spoils.

  There were several roomfuls of swag. From cases of tequila, rum, gin, vodka, and whiskey, to cartons of cigarettes, a variety of canned and dried foods, cans of ammo, assault rifles and handguns, batteries, clothing, toiletries, and silver and gold coins, the building was a literal treasure trove. Both Jake and Ava were amazed at the stupidity of the trader who left all this loot so lightly guarded.

  After about 15 minutes of picking through their spoils, two of their men dragged in the prior owner of their ill-gotten gains. They’d caught him in the back alley trying
to get a read on what had happened to his building and the goods inside. He was an overweight, balding, middle-aged man, and he was moaning and sobbing. Having been beaten severely by Jake’s men, he was bleeding profusely from his mouth as well as from a large gash above his right eye.

  Jake’s soldiers hauled him up in front of their boss, who sauntered up slowly. They stood holding the trader up between them. Eager to let the boss handle this and get back to enjoying their tequila, they let the trader’s body sag, and then slump down so that he rested upon his knees. Once on his own power, he quickly crumpled into a heap before Jake.

  “Caught him lurking outside, boss,” one of the men said.

  Jake leered at the trader.

  “Please…” the man begged, looking up at Jake, “…take what you want, just let me go.”

  Jake blinked, staring at the man and then snorted. “Well I have no problem with the first half of your request. The second half, mmm…” Jake looked to the side and smiled, “…that might not be so simple.”

  “Please don’t kill me,” the man sobbed, continuing with his pleading. “Take it…take it all. I don’t care. I don’t want to die.”

  “Christ…stand up,” Jake frowned, tiring quickly of the trader’s whining. But the man continued to grovel.

  Jake walked up, bent, and grabbed the man by the collar, attempting to pull him to his feet. Unable to lift the hefty man, Jake let go and swiftly kicked him hard with a boot to the midsection instead. The trader let out a yelp, rolled over onto his side, and then vomited all over the floor.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” Jake shook his head in disgust. “How’d a pussy like you ever survive the flu? STAND THE FUCK UP!” he bellowed.

  But the trader just continued to shiver and moan helplessly on the floor.

  “Ah, fuck it,” Jake said, drawing a handgun from beneath his jacket, aiming it at the man’s head, and squeezing the trigger.

  The trader grew still, dead on the floor.

  “Fucking worthless asshole,” Jake shook his head. “Now get him the fuck out of here,” he told the two soldiers who had brought him inside.

  They reluctantly set their tequila bottles aside and grabbed the trader’s lifeless body. Each one taking an arm, they dragged the corpse out through the back door to the edge of the entry landing outside and tossed it down the back steps. The trader’s body bumped and rolled its way down the steps and came to rest in the dusty gravel of the back alley beside the body of his guard who’d been watching the back door.

  Ava watched these events unfold quietly from across the room. She looked down at the floor and shook her head almost imperceptibly as they hauled the trader’s body away. Jake was tough, but he was stupid…and he certainly wasn’t a business man. He was too impatient and his thinking too short term.

  But for now, she recognized that they were back on track and hell on wheels, quickly growing into a force to be reckoned with. Things were progressing just as Jake had envisioned. And that was just how Ava wanted it.

  “Rambo! Mad Dog! You’re on watch,” Jake called to his troops. “The rest of you, finish your bottles and get this shit loaded up. I ain’t got all day.”

  * * *

  That night, after Jake had passed out, a nearly empty bottle of tequila still gripped in his hand, Ava slipped quietly away, unnoticed. She drove the short distance to a previously agreed upon rendezvous spot – an abandoned-looking house – about a half mile from where she, Jake, and the rest of their crew were holed up.

  Two men were there waiting for her. They were young, hungry, and determined, and they were the kind of men that Ava felt had the drive to accomplish what she needed done. They weren’t all that bright, but Ava didn’t want them for their brains.

  One of the men had shorter blonde hair, the other had dark wavy locks – both were good looking. It didn’t appear as if either had shaved in four or five days, but Ava dug the scruffy look which was a good thing in the post-flu world.

  She pulled her SUV into the home’s two-car garage and got out. “Hello boys,” she gave them a smile and a wink as the two men waiting inside the garage quickly concealed her vehicle with a tarp similar to the one they used to conceal their own vehicle beside where Ava had parked. It was chilly outside, but Ava had left her jacket unzipped in an effort to showcase some of her best assets and help ensure she got what she wanted from these two pent up young men. They eyed her hungrily as they worked to get the tarp situated.

  Once they were done, they quickly closed the garage and led her across a trash-covered lawn to the home’s back door and then downstairs to the basement.

  The basement was dark, lit only by a single overhead light. A ratty looking sofa sat before a television with a paused video game on its screen. A generator hummed somewhere in the dingy space.

  “Have a seat,” the blonde man gestured her to a cushioned chair near the sofa.

  “You bring the stuff?” the one with the dark hair asked as Ava sat down in the chair and crossed her shapely legs that were nicely accentuated by jeans that looked as though they’d been painted on.

  “Yes,” she nodded, tossing him a small baggy. “Half now and half when you get back…just like we agreed.”

  The men looked at each other, grinning goofily.

  “Just don’t go getting loaded up before you get what I need done,” Ava went on. “Remember, you screw this up and you’ll be in a lot deeper shit than just not getting the rest of your fix.”

  The two men settled down, getting serious at Ava’s warning.

  “You got a fast car?” Ava asked.

  The two men nodded. “One of the fastest,” said the man with blonde hair.

  “Enough gas, guns, ammo?” Ava asked.

  They both nodded in agreement.

  She stood, walked over, and tossed an envelope down on the sofa between them. The man with the brown hair picked it up.

  “Everything you need to know…names, directions, locations, contacts…they’re all in that envelope,” Ava said. She knew the men had the guts for the mission, maybe just not the brains to remember all the details. “Don’t lose it. It could be your lifeline down there should anything happen. Got it?”

  The two men nodded again in unison.

  Ava wanted to ask them if they could read – a map or otherwise – but she didn’t want to piss them off.

  “Any questions?” she asked instead.

  “You sure these people will be down there?” the blonde one asked.

  “Nope,” Ava responded coolly. “Anything else?”

  “Well…what do we do if they aren’t there?” the dark haired one said.

  “Drive back and tell me,” Ava sighed, tiring quickly of the two. “It’s not brain surgery, you know? You drive there, you check things out, you follow the instructions I provided you, and you come back.” She eyed them, now wondering if they could handle the job. “Anything else?” she asked.

  “Nope,” they both said, shaking their heads and standing up.

  “Good,” Ava smiled, standing as well and walking over toward them seductively. “Now you boys run along and get this done for me quick,” she said, dragging a finger across each of their chests and running it down across the blonde’s stomach, and then a little lower. She’d thought about giving the young men a little taste, but decided that it would be better for her purposes to leave them pent up and wanting more…at least until they got back. Her body…her sex, would act as an insurance policy on her investment, and it was a policy that she was looking forward to these two young men putting in a claim on. “The sooner you get back, the sooner I can reward you,” she grabbed the blonde swiftly by the back of the head, surprising him with her speed. She pulled him forward and down toward her and kissed him hard, biting his lip softly and tugging it out and away from his mouth before letting him go.

  He looked shocked – shocked, but pleased.

  “We got a deal?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Yeah!” the men agreed
eagerly and in unison.

  “Good,” Ava smiled and nodded.

  CHAPTER 18

  Our hunting expedition was largely a bust. We managed to kill two scrawny squirrels that hardly had enough meat on them to feed one person, let alone fifteen.

  Jonah had some fishing poles and while we hunted, he asked Will and Joanna if they’d accompany him to the pond to fish. Will had looked at him like he was crazy since it was nearly a mile away and he was still hobbling around on his crutches, but Jonah explained that he still had gas in his rusty old pickup, so they could drive over. Therefore, Will agreed.

  Joanna drove, and after a couple hours, they ended up catching four nice-sized fish, which, along with the two squirrel and some of Wilma’s canned items, provided a good dinner for all. Even then, I think the others were beginning to come around to the realization that we were all living on borrowed time at the farm, and a day without catching fish or killing something on the hunt could mean a day without a good meal.

  That night I had a fitful sleep. Claire, Jason and I were crammed into a double bed that creaked and groaned every time one of us moved. Jason was a complete wiggle-worm and proceeded to kick me in the groin or whack me in the face repeatedly throughout the night. Plus, there were my concerns about our food situation, which quickly occupied my thoughts every time I woke. Added to all those issues, was the fact that the floor boards were extremely creaky inside the house, as were the stairs. This meant that every time someone in the upstairs bedrooms got up to go outside and use the outhouse – the relocation of which was on Jonah’s “to-do” list – there was a period of creaking and cracking as the person made their way outside, followed by a similar period several minutes later when they returned.

  At one point, I was sure someone was watching us sleep as there seemed to be the outline of a shadow in our doorway, but it was so dark I couldn’t really tell; and I never heard the squeaking of the floorboards as they came or went. I was in and out of sleep so often throughout the night that I just figured it was a dream.