The Eliminators 2

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The Eliminators 2 Page 14

by Jacqueline Druga


  “What if … what if we try to reach out to whoever the leader is? Rigs asked.

  “No negotiating Rigs. We get our people out, then we take them out. Keep in touch if you hear anything.”

  “I will.” Rigs hung up and looked at the faces staring.

  “What’s going on?” Barry asked.

  “She wants us to get within an hour of Amarillo and wait for reinforcements. They … they want to get Rachel and whoever else they have and then take them out. Apparently, they went rogue, gathered people and set up a homestead.”

  “And she wants to take them out, all of them?” Barry asked.

  “I guess. I mean, they’re taking people against their will. So they aren’t all that good.”

  “Maybe,” Fred suggested. “They’re taking Eliminators to have them help. If they set up their own town, they need protection.”

  Rigs shook his head. “I don’t know. Doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense. I do know this, we will utilize whatever crazy things this fourteen million dollar, steel tube can do to get Rachel back.”

  “What about Yates?” asked Barry.

  “Um … I guess him, too.” Rigs noticed Fred hurriedly getting up and going to the back. “Where are you going?”

  “Give me a second,” Fred replied. He returned with a binder. “You want to utilize the tools on this thing.” He sat down on the couch and placed the binder on the table. “Let’s find out what all this thing can do?” He flipped it open.

  “It comes with an instruction manual?” Rigs asked.

  Barry placed his hand on Rigs’ shoulder. “I’m as upset about Rachel as you are. But our girl can handle herself. She won’t go down without a fight. I really believe she will be fine. We’ll get her back.”

  “I hope you’re right. I mean … it’s insane. Why systematically kidnap people in a dead ridden world,” Rigs said. “It doesn’t make sense. What reason could they have?”

  Mumbling, Fred spoke up. “Food.”

  Rigs hurriedly looked at him.

  “Or not.” He flipped another page in the book.

  TWENTY-TWO – FLAG

  March 12 – Day 327

  Amarillo, TX

  “Jeremiah, this is crazy,” Barry grabbed a hold of the bag he loaded, “She said to wait one hour outside of town for reinforcements. We’re only twenty miles. That’s a lot closer.”

  “And they haven’t moved, Bar, not for hours. We don’t know if they’re hurt or what?”

  “What if they take you, too?”

  “Then they take me.” Rigs shrugged.

  Fred walked in the side door of the EPEV. “Okay, I got it on the Saffron RV. You have to be close, I mean right at wherever their roadblock is. They won’t see it, but take the keys so they can’t move it. I highly doubt they will even suspect anything high tech.”

  “What about the communication thing you found?”

  “Alright so …” Fred handed him what looked like an American flag pin. “Once in the town, you can talk, we’ll hear you, but the only way we can respond acknowledgement is to buzz this pin.”

  “Buzz it?” Rigs said.

  “From what I read, it’s like one of those hand buzzer things we had as kids, makes you think it’s a shock, but it’s actually a vibration. Give me a second with you in the back, I’ll set it up.”

  “I don’t like this, Jeremiah, I don’t like this one bit,” Barry said. “We should wait for Liz.”

  “I’m one man driving a beat up old RV. I’m going unarmed, I’m not a threat.”

  “You told me Liz was informed it’s like the worst of a Mad Max world.”

  “Barry, I think that’s an over exaggeration. But …” Rigs squeezed his arm. “Even the Mad Maxx tribes had a hierarchy. They will, too. I have to find it. They didn’t take them for the fun of it. They want something. I just need to find out what that is.” He walked to the back with Fred.

  <><><><>

  The thud against her foot caused Rachel to nearly topple forward as she awoke. She lifted her head not only to excruciating neck pain, but also the worst headache she could remember having.

  She was in the back of a vehicle, more than likely a van. It was dark except for a little light that came through the back door windows. Her hands were tied in front of her and when she focused she saw Yates across from her.

  “I thought you were dead,” said Yates. “I had to kick you.”

  “I wish I were dead at this moment. My head …”

  “We need water. It’s the tranquilizer. They hit us with a dart.”

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “I saw it hit your neck, then I blacked out.”

  “Who the hell would do this?” Rachel asked. “I mean, like, isn’t there enough shit happening with the dead rising and now somebody thinks, oh, let’s add abduction to it.”

  “You know the way it works, Rachel,” Yates spoke with a raspy whine. “The bad guys. Other than the apocalyptic even, there have to be antagonists.”

  “You’re right. Elements again.”

  “Always elements,” Yates said. “Me and my team used to talk about them. The main team formula, the big event formula.”

  “Always the same thing. And we had a couple big events, so they hold true,” Yates said.

  “What about the elements on abduction storylines?” Rachel asked. “I think they follow the same formula for any movie or show, even if it isn’t apocalypse.”

  “Without a doubt. One or two people get taken,” Yates said.

  “Us.”

  “The hero or leader formulates a plan. He tries to initiate, it fails and the rest of the group joins in and saves the day.”

  “I’m not sure we have a big enough group for that,” Rachel commented.

  “We don’t even know what or how many we’re dealing with. All I know, is to take people in the middle of the night, I’m betting they’re a bunch of barbarians.”

  The back doors to the van opened blasting in blinding sunlight.

  Two men stood there. One tossed a bottle of water to Rachel and then to Yates. “Drink. You need it.”

  The bottle landed on the floor and Rachel reached down for it. It wasn’t an easy task to unscrew the bottle with bound hands, but Rachel did without hesitation and gulped the water until it hurt her chest.

  “Let’s go,” the one man said, grabbing on to her and nearly dragging her out of the van.

  Rachel stumbled some, blinking her eyes rapidly to clear the watering and burning from the bright sun.

  “This way,” he said.

  “Where are we going?” Yates asked.

  “Why does it matter, be happy you’re out of the van.”

  Rachel heard it. Laughter. But it wasn’t twisted or demented, it was joyful. Laughter that sounded playful, she looked to the right as they led her across the street. She saw two young boys running with a ball. A woman stood watching. She stopped the boys and lifted her eyes to Rachel.

  It didn’t make sense.

  Yates’ barbarian theory was out the window. There were children, women, and what looked like an outdoor market. Something was off, something was wrong.

  She and Yates were being escorted like common criminals.

  Obviously to their captors they had committed some crime, she was anxious to find out what it was.

  <><><><>

  “Keep your heartrate steady, Rigs,” Sandy told him over the radio. “They’re gonna know you’re up to something the second they see you.”

  “Sorry,” Rigs said. “I’m trying. I’m pulling up now.” He slowed down as he approached a roadblock. It consisted of two trucks and armed men.

  “We got you,” replied Fred. “Can you get a little closer?”

  Rigs inched forward. “How’s that?”

  “Six men out front?” Fred asked.

  “Yep. All armed.”

  “We got ‘em. You’re good. Now listen,” Fred said. “We have you, but this is the last of the radio chatter. Keep talking.
We’ll buzz once if we are hearing and all is good. Twice if we need more info, three times if you are in danger. Got it?”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  “You’ll be fine. Just get them back.”

  “I’ll try,” Rigs set down the radio, shut off the RV, put the keys in his left front pocket. Not in his right, his tracker was there. He opened the door, raised his hands and walked to the men standing at the roadblock just before town.

  They didn’t move at first, they just watched him. Then as he drew closer every one of the men aimed their weapons.

  “I’m not armed,” said Rigs. “I’m not armed.”

  “Look at this,” one of the men said. “We have an Eliminator coming to our town.”

  “Oh,” said another. “I’m feeling safe.”

  They all laughed.

  “Can I lower my hands?” Rigs asked.

  The man out front nodded. “What do you need?”

  “I’m not here for trouble. I’m alone. I need to speak to your leader.”

  The front man laughed, joking. “Oh, take me to your leader, like some sort of alien.”

  “Hey!” Rigs snapped. “I’m not fucking around. I want to speak to someone in charge. I believe you have a member of my team and I want her …” On his last word, Rigs nearly shouted and his body jolted in surprise and head twitched, when he felt it. It wasn’t a buzz, it was a double shock of electricity. “Back!” Spitting the last word out due to his surprise.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Main guy asked. “You got that Tourette’s?”

  “Something like that.”

  Main front guy stared at Rigs for a second, then stepped back, grabbing a radio. He moved back another twenty feet out of ear range.

  Rigs tried to hear, but couldn’t.

  “Nice RV,” one of them joked. “What? You the bottom of the Eliminator barrel?”

  Main front guy returned. “Len, check the RV or whatever that is. Make sure no one is in there”

  The man called Len hurried to the RV.

  “I’m alone,” Rigs said.

  “We’re just gonna double check to make sure.”

  After a minute, Len came from the RV and walked to the roadblock. “Empty. No one in there.”

  Main front guy nodded. “Alright, head on in. You’ll go about three blocks. You won’t be able to miss the guys waiting for you.”

  “Just … go on in?” Rigs asked, confused.

  “Yep. Welcome to Amarillo. Land of the free.”

  Rigs didn’t trust it. In fact, he walked backwards nearly all the way to the RV, never really taking his eyes off the men at the roadblock. He got inside the RV and started it.

  “I’m not lifting the radio yet,” Rigs said. “But I will in a minute. I’m back in the RV.”

  His response was another jolt.

  “Damn it.” Rigs cursed.

  He slowly pulled the RV forward and they removed the roadblock, then Rigs drove through. A part of him still didn’t trust what was happening, it seemed too easy.

  Once out of their eyesight, he lifted the radio. “Did you guys hear the exchange?”

  “We did,” Fred replied. “Did you feel the buzz?”

  “Yeah, try not to do that too much. It hurts.”

  “Sorry about that,” Fred said. “But I needed to keep you in line. However, I am getting a clean look at the town. Not all, but most.”

  “I just drove through the roadblock,” Rigs said. “I’m in.”

  “Even better.”

  TWENTY-THREE – TRADE OFF

  They had untied their hands once they were in the principal’s office, and that’s exactly what it was. They had been brought into a school, led down a hallway into the school office. There was something sad about the office, pictures made by children still graced the walls. It made Rachel remember how many died from not only the virus, but the aftereffects of those infected.

  Rachel and Yates sat in two chairs before a desk. Nearly finished bottles of water in their hands. They knew there was an armed guard outside and another stood just inside the door.

  “This is taking me back,” said Rachel. She finished the last of her water.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Being in the principal’s office, waiting for my dad to get me.”

  “Somehow it doesn’t surprise me that you were a juvenile delinquent.”

  “And you were never in trouble?” she asked.

  “Never. How’s your head?”

  “A little better. I need more water.”

  Yates shook the empty bottle. “Yeah, me, too.”

  “Why do you think they took us?”

  “Oh, obviously, they want something.”

  “This is in your division,” Rachel said. “Is this a survivor city?”

  “I think it’s a little different than that. I heard rumors …” He stopped talking when the door opened.

  The man who walked in didn’t look like any principal Rachel had seen before. He looked more like the stereotypical truck driver. His hair was straggly, having long outgrown a short cut at one time. He wore glasses and had a beard which while not long, was unruly. He dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, and placed two bottles of water on the desk. “You need that,” he said. “Rehydrate. I’m Jeff Stafford, you can call me Stafford.”

  “Listen fucker,” Rachel said. “As much as I appreciate the hospitality and water, why in the hell did you drug us and take us anyways?”

  “Feisty, um … I’ll get to the why we took you in a second. We drugged you because one on one you Eliminators can be quite the fighters. I’ve lost men, resorting to tranquilizers was safer. And as for the reason of taking you. We take Eliminators to … well, eliminate.”

  “Why don’t you just ask?” Rachel questioned.

  “You think it’s that easy. Pick up a phone and say, ‘Hey, send in the Eliminators we have a Zed problem on our hands’? You think you guys will come running? Nah, it doesn’t happen that way. You guys all have your little agenda and schedule, all run by President Dickson …”

  “Dickson’s dead,” Rachel said.

  “What?” Yates looked at her. “Dickson’s dead.”

  “I swore we told you.”

  “No, you left that out.”

  “No, I think you weren’t listening.”

  “Stop.” Stafford’s hand waved about. “Another thing we learned, mouths of the Eliminators run better than their skill set when we set you up with zed game.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Yates.

  “He’s dissing the Eliminators,” Rachel said.

  “Yet he has us and wants us to … kill his Zed problem.”

  “Something like that,” Stafford said calmly. “Like I said, you guys fold. Maybe it’s all the pampering you get. The luxury home on wheels …”

  Rachel laughed. “Obviously, you haven’t seen ours.”

  He ignored her comment. “Medicine when you need it, weapons, food, water, you name it. You get it all while the rest of the country starves and suffers.”

  “First,” Rachel said. “The rest of the country isn’t starving. A lot of people are in good places now. Maybe it just isn’t happening fast enough for you. There are nineteen thousand, five hundred and four registered towns or cities in this country. One hundred and twenty-six Eliminators, three hundred sweep team member and sixty-two on clean up teams. We can only do so much, so fast. You keep eliminating Eliminators you’ll have more than a few dead at your door. You have a problem with it, join the fucking cause and do things right. That’s the problem,” she looked at Yates. “No one wants to do the dirty work.”

  “As impressed as I am with your stats,” said Stafford. “I have no intention of joining the cause. I will do what I need for the people here.” He looked at Yates and exhaled. “Aldrich Yates. I can’t believe you’re finally sitting here before me. Do you know how long I have waited for this?”

  “Excuse me, do I know you?” Yates asked.

&nb
sp; “No, but I know you.”

  Yates shifted his eyes. “I know you are wearing an Eliminators tracking device. One of my teams.”

  “Yep,” Stafford replied. “Branson, Barrowmen …”

  “Billmen,” Yates said.

  “That’s it. It was his. You need to know, that team of yours did not give up any information when we took them.”

  “Oh!” Yates turned to Rachel. “I told you they did not leave me. I told you. I was right.”

  “You were right,” Rachel said. “But he just used the word ‘was’ when talking about Billmen.”

  “I did,” Stafford said. “He, unfortunately like the others, didn’t meet the challenge. It had a lot to do with reliance on the EPEV, I’m sure of it.”

  Rachel nodded. “Yep, they lose their edge.”

  “Exactly,” Stafford replied. “And we were pretty much resigned to the fact we weren’t getting Aldrich here and didn’t care, because we took his EPEV and team. We stopped for a few days to meet other new people and he …” He looked at Yates. “Shut that shit down. Which told us, he wasn’t giving up. I knew eventually he’d find it, get it running, and follow the track. So we watched. Didn’t expect him to pick up friends. That was unexpected and I’m working on that now. But we got him, and we’ll get the EPEV, too.”

  “Why do you want me so bad? What in the world did I ever do to you?”

  “Yeah, we’ve been chasing your team around since Stonemen Bluff. Remember? Survivor city about sixty miles north of here?” Stafford asked. “You and your team took that fancy, high teach killing machine and wiped that entire place clean with head shots. Every single person in that Survivor city. Every person including my wife and two daughters who were waiting there for me to get this place up and running.”

  “That survivor city turned,” Yates argued. “They were not immune, they were carriers. An outbreak went wild.”

  “I have seen that happen,” said Rachel. “All it takes is one and they all turn.”

  “And my auto system,” Yates said. “Only took down the dead. Anyone not showing infection, we pulled.”

 

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