Oil Apocalypse Collection

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Oil Apocalypse Collection Page 59

by Lou Cadle


  “We can attack the barracks, or we can clear the town south of here,” Sierra said.

  “Or we can retreat to the jail and wait for the others to make it this far,” Kelly said.

  Lambert said, “That’d be safest.”

  Sierra said, “Safety isn’t the right priority at this point.”

  “Surprise can be very useful,” Kelly said.

  Sierra said, “Aggression is good and passive defense is not—not in this circumstance. We’re guerillas, not a town militia trying to hold the town against attack.”

  Kelly, nodding, said, “Better if it’s done now. It could easily be the men in the apartment building don’t yet know anything is wrong.”

  “Let’s go then. How many for the raid on the ammo?”

  “Everyone who can shoot.” She turned to Lambert and said, “Keep an eye on my son. Please.”

  “I will,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  Sierra went first, checking the street. She could see heads in the light coming from the window. They needed to stay down. She and Kelly weren’t the only ones who could see them.

  They jogged across the wide street and entered the front door. Jackson was keeping watch there—and, perhaps, keeping the men from bolting for home.

  Kelly said, “We’re going on a raid. Are we the only three with rounds?”

  Jackson handed Sierra her phone. “There was a full magazine, and no doubt they’ve matched those rounds to some weapon in there by now.”

  Sierra went into the meeting room. “I can see you guys from the street. Keep your heads low, or put the lamp out. There are still a few dozen of the enemy out there.”

  “Let’s go get them then,” said one of the men.

  “We know where some ammo is. Kelly says we’ll get that first.”

  They all perked up at that. “Then we can attack them?”

  “I think so.” Kelly hadn’t said yet what their next mission would be. Sierra didn’t care, as long as they didn’t sit just here and wait for it to be over. No way would she sit and chew her fingernails while the others got to win back Payson.

  Roy sidled up to her and said, “Can I talk to you in private before we go?”

  Chapter 14

  Sierra was surprised, but said, “Sure.”

  “Come back here with me.” He led the way from the room and back through the main hallway. He took a turn down the same hallway she and Dev had been shooting from—it seemed like days ago, not an hour or less—and into a dim doorway.

  She was tense, hoping this wasn’t going to be anything weird or personal. But she discovered very quickly that it wasn’t.

  He whispered, “I found food.”

  “How much? Where?”

  “Here, in an office. There is canned meat, and beans, and a little soup. I figure that’s got to be pretty rare, right?”

  “Very rare. We’ve been wondering how the women and children of Payson have been doing with only vegetables to eat. Not much protein. They can’t go out and hunt or fish.”

  “I almost ate some,” he said, hanging his head. “But then I thought of everyone else—all those kids in town who need it more than I do.”

  “That’s good of you,” she said, and she meant it. “I know you’re hungry, that you all are.”

  “I didn’t tell the others for just that reason. I figured they’d stampede.”

  “Good decision. Look, I think you should keep quiet about this until tonight is over. Tomorrow, when you all start putting Payson back together, or the next day, you’ll know who to tell about it.”

  “Unless someone else finds it first.”

  “Maybe tomorrow night, then, you sneak back here and make sure it’s hidden well. Is it just piled on the floor right now?”

  “Yeah. It’s all in one closet. I guess they didn’t check it when they cleared the building.”

  “Keep the location to yourself. Find a key and lock it up, or hide it in whatever—cabinets, desks.”

  “You won’t take it?”

  “I don’t even want to know where it is. We live in the woods. We can hunt. We have gardens, just like you.” She didn’t mention the rabbits or hens. “It’s your food, probably stolen from your homes in the first place. And it’s yours to decide what to do with, as a group.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “For everything. I didn’t know what to do. Not thinking straight. I’m glad I trusted you because you obviously are.”

  “You would have done the right thing anyway.”

  “Sometimes, it’s good to have someone to bounce an idea off. Besides, who is to say that I’ll survive until morning? Noah didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry about your friend. If you don’t make it, I’ll figure out who is trustworthy, and tell that person about the food. Probably Joan.”

  “Joan?”

  “A priest from town. I know her. She’d get it distributed correctly. If not her, Mr. Lambert seems like a good man. Or Mr. Alvarez, my high school teacher.”

  “That’s smart. Maybe we need clergy, social workers, teachers, people like that running the town’s recovery, not politicians.”

  Not her business one way or the other. “Let’s get back. Kelly will be wondering where we are.”

  “Wait,” he said, as she turned to go.

  “Yeah?”

  “You know, I don’t have a daughter, but if I ever did, I’d be proud if she grew up to be like you.”

  Sierra was touched. “Thank you. I hope what we’re doing tonight means the daughters of Payson can grow up to do a lot less fighting from now on than I’ve had to do.”

  “See? Another reason to admire you.”

  No one was in the hallway. They went into the meeting room. The lantern had been turned down and the blinds pulled.

  Kelly said, “There you are.” She frowned at Roy. “Any problem?”

  “No, everything is great,” Sierra said.

  Kelly looked for a second like she was going to press the point, but she didn’t. “I’ve decided what we need to do. Two things. First, we recover the ammo that’s close. Then we attack their barracks, where they’re living. There are two problems with this that I see.”

  “What are those?” asked one of the men.

  “I look around here, and I think this group, we really surprised them. They didn’t come here expecting an attack. They’d have been better armed, had more rounds on them. But in their own home, their own lair, they’re sure to be much better defended. Also, they know the place. We don’t, unless one of you has lived there.”

  “Where?”

  Jackson named the apartment building.

  No one spoke up to say he knew the place.

  “Okay,” Kelly said, “so they have an advantage. Even more of an advantage if someone has been able to inform them of what’s going on tonight. We gear up, all twelve—no, ten—of us, and we do this fast. The other problem is, if we’re out on the street with guns, shooting, and the other team comes, the people like us who want to rescue the town and give it back to you? They might shoot at you.”

  “How would we be able to tell them from the invaders?” Roy asked.

  “That’s a point. I don’t want them shooting at you any more than I want you shooting at them. They’re my friends or allies, and I don’t want any of them hurt.”

  “Can we wear something? Like did you have a sign that says ‘our side’?”

  Jackson said, “That’s a great idea. Too bad none of us thought of it first. We could have used reflective tape or something like that.”

  “But we didn’t,” Kelly said. “They won’t shoot at women is all I can tell you, if they can identify us as women. So if a group comes around the corner from outside and shoots at us, we need to find cover, and not shoot back until we know who they are. Inside the building, that’s all enemies, so we can just go for the kill.”

  “I don’t know the inside of the apartments there, but I do know the size of the place,” said a man. “They could get out of a r
ear exit and flank us. I’d rather not be shot in the back.”

  “We’ll position ourselves so that doesn’t happen,” Kelly said. “There are ten of us. I doubt there are more than four entries. We have four teams of two, plus two rovers outside who keep an eye out for any escape attempts. The teams will clear their section of floor one before going up to floor two, and so on.”

  Sierra knew it wouldn’t go that smoothly, no way, but she appreciated the concept. “I’ll be a rover,” she said.

  Kelly nodded. “I’ll be the other. This makes sense, to keep two women outside, in case the other liberators come along. If no one objects, we’ll do it that way.”

  “Fine,” said one of the men.

  “I want my chance to shoot some of these bastards,” said another, one with only a baton.

  “Okay. No reason to wait. Let’s go now. Everybody grab up all the weapons, even if they’re empty, and even if you’re carrying two for now. And one of you turn off the lantern and carry it along. We’ll need the light in a minute.”

  In five minutes, they were organized and on the move. The rain had slowed to almost nothing, but there were puddles on the street. The world was full of the odor of damp wood and wet concrete.

  Sierra hadn’t noticed the building behind the jail before, even though she’d stood right next to it, but it was, as promised, a small duplex. They tried both doors, but they were locked. No window opened at a push. Knocks on the doors got no response.

  Kelly said, “Sierra, Jackson, can you kick one of these in?”

  “Lawman’s locks, I imagine,” Jackson said. “They won’t be easy to break into. But glass always breaks.” He put down his pack and removed the bolt cutters, reversed them, and hit the handles against the nearest window once, twice. The third time, it broke, noisily.

  There was no rain or thunder to disguise the noise this time. Sierra left the cluster of men and checked the road both ways with the goggles on, looking for signs that someone had heard and was coming.

  She only half paid attention to the noises at the duplex, where everyone was talking or shushing each other or trying to get in through the broken window. A few times, more glass broke, but the sound was more muffled now.

  Still the street remained empty.

  The conversation died down and she heard the footsteps of the men walking up wooden stairs. Then Jackson’s voice, hissing her name. She turned and jogged to follow them, taking her goggles down as she saw the light of the lantern through the crack in the door. She took the steps two at a time and pushed through the door, saying, “It’s me.”

  “I know,” Jackson said. He was right behind the door, and he closed it after her.

  Inside, the lantern was turned up, the drapes all closed, and they were going through furniture, looking for the alleged ammunition stores. “Not in here,” one guy said.

  “You wait here, all of you,” Jackson said. “I’ll get into the one next door.”

  Kelly emerged from the closet, shaking her head. “Not unless there’s a secret panel or safe in the floor or walls.”

  Roy said, “If there’s a safe, we’re SOL.”

  “What’s that mean?” Sierra said.

  “Some soldier you are,” Roy said, giving her a smile. “Shit out of luck.”

  “Arch’s library didn’t have any books on the cussing parts,” she said.

  Roy said, “Who’s Arch?”

  Kelly said, “My husband.”

  The muffled sound of more glass breaking came through the wall.

  “Let’s go,” Kelly said, and they filed out and went to the attached apartment.

  Like the first, this one had a bed with a worn bedspread and a pair of pillows, and an old TV screen mounted on the wall. Unlike the other, this had only one piece of furniture, a large battered dresser, and two of the men went through it fast. Again, Kelly took the closet. “I’m seeing nothing, but give me a minute,” she said, tossing out a blanket. “I could use the lantern when you’re done.”

  Sierra dropped to the floor and looked under the bed. “Jackson, you have a flashlight? There’s one in my pack if you don’t.”

  “I have one,” he said, and he produced it.

  He put it into her hand and she saw a long, low metal box. “Got something,” she said, reaching in and giving it a shove. It was heavy. She reversed herself, thrust her legs under the bed, and pushed with her foot as hard as she could. The box moved an inch, and she slid in the other direction six inches. “Heavy,” she said. “Might be it.”

  “Easier to move the bed,” Jackson said.

  “You’re right,” she said, scrambling up. “Take your flashlight back so I don’t lose it.”

  One of the townsmen said, “Loan me that light and I’ll go check under the other place’s bed.” A second man went with him. The rest of them made short work of moving the bed away from the wall. The lantern man held the lantern right over the box.

  Boxes. There were two of them, Army green, metal, with printing on all sides. None of it made any sense to Sierra. English alphabet letters and numbers, but a code she couldn’t begin to guess the meaning of.

  “Locked?” Kelly said, pushing through. Jackson and two others were squatting down, looking at the boxes.

  “Yeah,” Jackson said, “but not well.”

  “Lucky,” said Will.

  Using the bolt cutters and the butt of an empty pistol, they broke into both boxes. The other two men returned and said, “Nothing like this in the other room.”

  Sierra realized that they might be lying. Funny how things like that came to her. Did it matter? If they were going to leave the Paysonites armed anyway, did it matter if they were hiding the existence of another—however many this was—rounds of ammo? The two metal boxes were filled with cardboard boxes of commercial rounds, both boxes nearly full. She saw ten different brands and calibers. She leaned over and picked up a small box and read it. Some of what was printed on it she didn’t understand either. Obviously she needed more time in training with Arch.

  Kelly said, “Let’s get this organized and see what fits the weapons we have. Who here already knows what rounds their weapon takes?”

  Five hands went up.

  Jackson said, “Show me the weapons you’re unsure of over here.”

  Sierra stood back and watched as boxes were passed around, magazines were loaded, and extra rounds went into the pockets of the filthy pants the men wore. Now that there were so many together in close quarters, she was also aware of their rancid smell, like a convention of homeless men. “I’ll watch outside,” she said to Kelly. “You know what caliber I need? Grab me a box or two.”

  Kelly nodded distractedly, focusing on the disorganized hunt through the ammo.

  Sierra stepped outside, checked around, walked to the middle of the street, and used the goggles to look everywhere. She saw no motion, no body heat signatures. She took a moment to run back over to the other apartment. It was pitch dark, but she groped around the dim shapes until she found the bed and dropped to the floor, feeling beneath it. No, there were no metal boxes here.

  It was a relief the men hadn’t lied. If they had, she’d have felt much more nervous going out with them again.

  Back out on the street, she could feel that the rainstorm had entirely passed. A motion caught her attention, but it was only a bird overhead, a small owl or a nighthawk.

  A few minutes later, the door to the duplex opened, and everyone filed out. Kelly said, “Sierra?”

  “Over here.” She went to meet her.

  She handed her two boxes of ammunition. “Forty rounds for you.”

  “That’s great. I probably won’t need them if you and I are on the outskirts of this next thing.”

  “Better safe than sorry.”

  “They’re all well armed now?”

  “Everyone,” Kelly said. “You and Jackson take point. He knows where he’s going and you have the night vision. I’ll bring up the rear.”

  They moved through a stil
l, damp night. Sierra had lost all track of time, but it couldn’t be anywhere near midnight, could it? She remembered how still the town had been just after sunset on the night she brought the Kershaws out. Near the jail, you’d think people would have been drawn out by the gunfire. But maybe they’d learned to hide from it, lock the doors, pull the kids into closets or under beds, and wait until the next day to dawn before they risked emerging again.

  Ten silent minutes later, Jackson said, “That’s it ahead, a block and a half.”

  “Lights on in there,” whispered a voice behind her. Four—no, five—windows showed the glow of lanterns, the blue light of LEDs. Their own lantern was off, but one of the townsmen still carried it.

  “We’ll scout ahead,” Jackson said, turning to say that to the group. “Follow, but wait a few minutes, and move slowly.”

  Sierra waited a second for Kelly to protest or give a different order, but when she didn’t, Sierra trotted up two steps to catch up to Jackson, who hadn’t waited for an order.

  “Can you use the goggles with that light?” he said.

  “Yeah, if I look at ground level and not directly at the light. You keep an eye on the windows.” As long as she didn’t stare right at the glare, she was okay. She cared only about men on the street, patrolling the base of the apartment building.

  But as they drew closer and closer, she saw nothing.

  “Stop,” Jackson said.

  She stopped, looking all around, but seeing nothing.

  “Okay. There was a guy at a window, but he’s gone. I don’t think he looked out.”

  They crept forward until they were almost to the intersection where the building was. “Don’t go farther than the corner of the building until you check it out,” Jackson said, giving her a gentle push to the right.

  “Got it,” she said. She moved quietly, easier with the wet pavement than it had been when it was gritty and dry, seeing nothing, making the building’s corner, and looking down the side of the building. Her side was the front, and she saw one man, smoking just outside the front doors. Again she wondered how they’d kept so many cigarettes. You’d think the tobacco users would have gone through them by now. Maybe they rationed them. Maybe there’d only been two smokers, the man they’d already killed and this one.

 

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