The Renegades (A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Novel)

by Hunt, Jack

  The first shuffler flopped forward. Arms flailing around, its jaw unhinged and blood spewing from it. I sunk my serrated knife into its skull and let it fall to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Dax got the next, Baja followed suit. And still they kept coming.

  “Shit, how many are there?” Specs said.

  I was starting to get pissed with this. I reached over behind me and pulled the baseball bat from the makeshift sheath I had attached to my back. In some downtime I had hammered nails through the top part. This thing was a lethal killing machine. One swing and a decayed head would be torn to shreds.

  “Ok, stand the fuck back. I’ve had about enough of this shit.”

  The others put some distance between me and them. One by one as the Z’s came towards me I swung the bat. Blood splatter went all over me, but I just kept moving forward and plowing through them like a combine fucking harvester. A few times the nails got stuck in their skulls. Specs would rush forward and tap the next one in the head with his knife while I pulled it loose. It was brutal but effective, even in a confined space. I knew all those baseball games would come in handy.

  Finally, when there appeared to be no more Z’s I slipped it back into the sheath and waved the others on. For the rest of the journey I could smell decaying brain matter. I made a mental note to clean it off once this was over.

  “Get the map out. I think we might have gone down the wrong tunnel.”

  “Impossible,” I said, pulling the map out and shining a light on it. I turned instinctively as if trying to gain my bearings. Not that I could. I was in a tunnel. They didn’t put up signs saying… THIS WAY.

  “No, we are going the right way,” Specs said.

  “No, we’re not. We took a wrong turn back there,” Dax said.

  “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

  We spent the next ten minutes retracing our steps until we found the tunnel we should have gone down. It was like a maze down here. I felt like a rat trying to escape.

  Once we finally came close to what should have led right into the underground shelter, we found ourselves standing in front of a large mound of boulders. The tunnel had collapsed. There was a small gap. It was possible that we might have been able to squeeze through it. But the wood and boulders were stacked like cards waiting for someone to sneeze.

  “So who’s going first?” Baja asked.

  Everyone pursed their lips, not wanting to be the first one to volunteer.

  “Rock, paper, scissors?” Baja suggested.

  Two minutes later we were hiding our fists behind our back and engaged in the most ridiculous game. I lost.

  “Well, if I am crushed to death, it’s been nice knowing you all,” I joked.

  “Can I have your gun?” Specs asked.

  I shook my head and took a deep breath and slowly began letting it out so I edged my way through. It reminded me of trying to force my way through a letter box. One wrong move and I would become like an herb in a mortar bowl. The others kept hold of my belongings. I inched my way through. I was nearly on the other side when I heard a crack.

  Shit. Shit! I thought.

  “Keep going,” Dax yelled.

  Once my feet slipped through, I brushed myself off and had them pass through my assault rifle and backpack. One by one they followed after me. However, this time I could take hold of their hands and pull them through.

  “This is like a game of Jenga,” Baja said.

  As the last one made it to the other side, we could see a faint glimmer of light in the distance. When Specs’s family built the underground shelter they used concrete and steel to support the walls and ceiling from caving in. Specs had said there were two entrances and exits into the shelter, but that his father had used a section of the mine as a cold storage area. A door led back into it. It would be locked from our side.

  “OK, I thought you said this was going to be easy,” Izzy said.

  “No, I said there was a way in. I didn’t say you were going to be able to just waltz in there.”

  “They aren’t going to open that door for us.”

  “They will.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “The storage room holds all the alcohol. I kind of think they aren’t going to want to do without that.”

  He was right. As we finally approached the end of the tunnel, it was lit up with several lights. Against the sides of the mine were cases and cases of beer, wine, and spirits.

  “Shit, dude, you have enough here to get wasted until the next apocalypse hits,” Baja said.

  “Actually the statistically probability of us living…” Specs began.

  “Oh God, would someone shut him up,” Baja muttered.

  “Right,” Specs said, proceeding to pick up a case of empty bottles from the floor and toss them one by one at the door.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Dax asked.

  “Drawing them out.”

  Dax shook his head in disbelief. “We have the element of surprise here.”

  “And we still will. It’s going to be a real fucking surprise when they open that door and find all our assault rifles pointing at them.”

  He went to throw another one and Dax tackled him to the ground.

  “At five in the morning? What do you think they are going to assume? That zombies are having a fucking party out here?”

  “Get off. I don’t give a shit. Those fuckers raped my sister and mother. I want them dead.”

  “You’ll get your opportunity. But not this way.”

  Dax gestured for us to move back into the darkness of the tunnel.

  “No one fires. No matter what.”

  We retreated into the tunnel while Dax moved around the curve of the metallic shelter. We saw him drop down to a knee and pull a knife from a sheath attached around his ankle.

  Then there was silence.

  Minutes passed. Still nothing.

  Then the sound of three bolts being unlocked. The door creaked open and a flashlight cut into the darkness.

  “It’s probably dead fuckers. Let’s go back to bed.”

  They turned to leave. Dax tossed a small rock. One of them spun around. He scowled, peering into the darkness. He was looking right at us. I was holding my breath, my hand was slipping down towards my handgun.

  He stepped outside. The other one had disappeared.

  “Hello?”

  Just when he was about to turn around and go back in, Dax jumped up. Hand over mouth, he sunk the knife deep into the man’s neck, and drove it up into his brain. His eyes bulged in pain, but no sound came out. As his body went limp, Dax pulled him back into the darkness and laid him down. With two fingers he gestured for us to move in. I pulled my handgun, and stepped forward. And like that, we slipped into the shelter, closing the door behind us.

  It was five ten in the morning and they were about to have a wakeup call they would never forget.

  RECKLESS

  There was no easy way around this. Specs wanted to kill them out of pure vengeance. Whether we got the weapons back or not, it mattered little to him. Dax had stepped over the line and killed someone in front of us. Truth was, what little humanity existed before the virus spread, was gone. If this shit storm was a car, we had gone from zero to sixty in two seconds. It was pure survival now. We knew they wouldn’t hesitate to kill us, and we knew we wouldn’t hesitate to kill them.

  Inside, the walls were made of corrugated steel pipe. It was large enough you could have driven around inside. Specs had squiggled an outline of what it looked like. Essentially it was like taking a massive steel cup and placing it in the ground, except that this cup had different levels, each one joined by a series of steps. Some in the town said Specs’s father had built it inside an abandoned missile silo, others felt it was just a large shaft. Whatever the hell it was, he’d put a lot of work into building it. Their entire life savings were wrapped up inside this. They had built five levels inside with the intention of only using one level for themselves.
To offset the cost of getting it made, they had put the word out in the preppers community, to see if there were any other families looking to take a level. Specs said two other families had gone in on it. They planned on using it as a vacation spot over the summer period, and a safe haven when doomsday occurred.

  When I had asked where the concrete was, he explained. Behind the steel was concrete that was nine feet thick. The steel was used to prevent damage from an earthquake. His father thought of everything — except humans killing him. As we made our way closer to the metal steps that led up to the next level, I noticed how everything was curved in this place. We passed by a series of large metal tanks that Specs said held water.

  The steps that led up to the surface were at the center of the core. They wound around a concrete post in the middle. I glanced at my watch, it was well after five. We moved as a unit with Baja at the back to cover us. Every step up made my heart beat a little faster. Specs had told us that if a firefight occurred inside, to drop to the floor and use whatever might be in the way as a shield as bullets would ricochet off the corrugated steel.

  On the next level Dax held his hand up to indicate to us to hold our position, he had obviously spotted someone or something. Turning back he held up three fingers and whispered, “Three in beds at one o’clock.”

  Now we’d been told that if we could get in and gather the weapons and get out, that was the goal. Our intentions were not to harm them, but if they were armed we weren’t to think twice. To anyone hearing about this now, they would think it was insane. Dax had killed one in cold blood. But that hadn’t been the case. The guy had reached for his gun. Could Dax have placed him in a lock hold? Tied him up? Possibly. He made a call. We weren’t going to argue with that. I think we each knew that our time would come. That we would all face the inevitable choice of life or death. Some would argue that there is always a diplomatic way of dealing with things. I hate to say it, but in an apocalypse, diplomacy goes out the window. Everything that makes up society; our laws, morals, and rights are brought into question. The line between what you should do, and what you must is razor thin. I had never killed anyone in my life before this happened. But when people are shooting at you, or have killed one of your own, you have little choice but to defend and protect yourself and the others. And that was one thing I would do even if it cost me my own life.

  Each of us carried zip ties. We had gathered them from the military surplus store. Dax gestured to Baja. He came up front. Without saying any words, we knew what we had to do. Each of us would take one of the men sleeping. The others would hold their legs while we zip tied and gagged them.

  We charged in and leapt at them, like a panther pouncing on its prey. Fast asleep, they didn’t know what had hit them. Jess covered the mouth of one man, Baja and I flipped him over and zip tied him. We had managed successfully to do it with two of them, but the third one struggled hard and shouted.

  “Intruders.”

  That was the only word he got out before Dax knocked him out cold. We were now working against time. The sound of boots above us on the next floor resounded. We moved into position with our assault rifles ready to unleash hell. However, the men didn’t come down. They knew it would have been suicide. The steps were narrow, and like a helter-skelter slide. They would have rushed into a hail of bullets. No, they were smarter than that.

  “Listen up. Whoever you are. You are outnumbered and we have more than enough weapons to hold you off. Now we’ll give you one chance to lay down your weapons. We don’t mean any harm,” someone called down.

  To which Specs replied, “Yeah, like the way you raped and killed my family?”

  There was silence.

  “I don’t know what makes you think we would do such a thing. But I can reassure you. That our group is not hostile to anything other than the dead.”

  “Bullshit. We heard you.”

  “Again, I don’t know what you heard. There are a number of us here. Now if anyone has caused harm without being threatened, they will be dealt with. All I can tell you, is that under my command, that would not have happened. I wouldn’t have allowed it.”

  “And you are?” Dax shouted.

  “Colonel Burrows. 14th Platoon.”

  “Marines?”

  “Just me. The others are civilians.”

  “Well, Colonel, you have something that doesn’t belong to you.”

  “Like?”

  “What would amount to a truckload of weapons and ammunition taken from a store in the town.”

  “I didn’t see anyone’s name on them.”

  “They weren’t yours for the taking.”

  “We didn’t take them. They were given.”

  “You left one of ours dead.”

  “Nope.”

  “You think we’re lying? Your group opened fire on us.”

  “Again, I think you might have us confused with someone else.”

  “Enough with the bullshit,” Specs yelled.

  We could hear whisperer above us, then movement. Dax motioned for two of us to move closer.

  “How about we call a truce? Talk this out? No one has to die here today.”

  “One of your men is already dead.”

  “Then you have a problem, son,” the Colonel replied.

  While Dax and the Colonel were still speaking with each other, I took the weapons from the three guys and what ammo I could find and then we had Jess and Izzy move down the staircase slowly, one by one. Dax and I were going to be the last ones to go. Dax made it clear in no uncertain terms through whispering and pointing that there was no way we were going to be able to get up there without one or more of us being shot. I didn’t like it. But the fact was, the layout of the underground shelter didn’t allow for easy access to the next level. Our element of surprise had gone out the window and now we were potentially facing an all-out war. Outgunned, outmanned, and with a declining amount of ammo, we knew they had the clear advantage.

  The sound of boots running back to where the Colonel’s position was above us was our signal to get out. As much as I didn’t like the idea of going back through that tunnel, it was better than the alternative — certain death.

  Sure enough, we were just about to follow the girls and make it to the ground level, but they must have seen or heard Specs, as just when he stepped onto the ladder, shots rang out and Specs fell to the ground returning fire with one arm. He’d been hit in the other. I moved forward and dragged him back with the help of Baja while Dax fired several rounds up. The bullets ricocheted.

  There was a brief pause, then a can bounced its way down the stairs. This was followed by an explosion, and a flash of light. They had dropped a flash bang. My ears were ringing. I had diverted my gaze too slowly and now I was blinded. What ensued next was total chaos. I had no idea what direction I was facing. The others were firing off rounds which meant the Colonel’s men were coming down.

  “Johnny. Johnny, move it.”

  I put my arm out trying to feel for anything. We were already on the ground floor. Dax grabbed up a steel rod on the ground and we ran out of their shelter. He slammed the door behind us and jammed the rod in, so it couldn’t be opened.

  “That’ll hold them for a while.”

  We didn’t stick around to see if they would make it out.

  Minutes later we were back through the small gap and making our way home.

  I stopped while the others continued walking. Dax turned around.

  “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

  He continued walking. A few more feet then he looked back again.

  “Johnny.”

  “No. We came here for a reason.”

  “We stay, we die. We are outnumbered and outgunned,” Dax replied.

  “How do we know? Can we really be sure?” I said.

  “I’m not taking that chance. You’ve already jeopardized one life.”

  I looked at Specs who was clinging to his bloodied shoulder. The others stared on.

&nbs
p; “We leave now, we’ll have to run as they will come after us,” I said.

  “Maybe. But we face them on our terms. On our ground. Where we can see them.”

  “He’s right, Johnny. It’s suicide to stay. We had our opportunity,” Baja added.

  “So you are giving up?”

  “No,” Specs stepped forward. “If anyone wants them dead, it’s me. But he’s right, Johnny. We need to regroup.”

  I looked back at the hole between the rocks. I could hear the faint echo of them banging. No doubt, they were trying to get out and come after us. I nodded in agreement.

  “Right.” I exhaled hard and reluctantly joined the others.

  On the way back we passed a series of small openings in the rock, enclosed by wooden doors. They were called powder rooms. I had seen them on the way down. There had to have been at least ten throughout the tunnel. It was only when we were coming back that I took a moment to look inside. The doors were tightly sealed together. Specs said it’s where they stored dynamite, blasting caps, and fuses. Inside the one I was looking in were four cases of unused dynamite.

  “These look ancient?”

  Dust and rubble covered the thick wooden cases. They were each stenciled with words that read:

  Silver Medal Explosives

  Handle With Care. Highly Dangerous

  “What do you think?”

  “Depends how long it’s been there. The older it is, the more unstable it is,” Specs replied. “Once the nitroglycerin seeps out it wouldn’t take much to make that explode.”

  “So carrying it back would be an issue?” I said.

  “Who wants to volunteer to take a peek inside the boxes?” Baja asked.

  Everyone backed up a few steps.

  “You might want to back up a little more,” Specs said before moving on without touching it. We kind of figured that meant we weren’t going to be taking it. I thought about the kind of damage that could do. It was directly below the town. It showed how long it had been since anyone had been this far deep underground.

  Once we made it back, Izzy immediately wanted to tend to Specs’s wound. There was a good amount of blood. He’d been shot in the right shoulder. He would live, but the bullet would need pulling out and with the hospital a good ten minutes away, and probably full of Z’s, Izzy suggested doing it the old-fashioned way. A scalpel, gauze, tweezers to pull it out. Unfortunately we didn’t have a scalpel so a sharp knife would have to suffice.