Cyber Apocalypse (Book 2): As Our World Falls

by Hunt, Jack

  Harry was breathing hard, wincing in pain.

  Garcia returned and dragged him into the main store area. “Medical supplies?” he barked.

  “Behind the counter. You’ll find a red container. Also grab the bottle of alcohol.”

  Garcia hurried even as he heard someone pounding on the rear door. A voice bellowed. “Open up, old man. You know we’ll get in there eventually.”

  Harry bellowed back. “Screw you, assholes.”

  Someone fired rounds at the door. Harry laughed and looked over. “Don’t worry, they won’t get through that door. Trust me on that.”

  “What about the roof?”

  For a moment, Harry frowned then a smile formed. “You’ve never been in the military, have you, son?”

  “Nope,” he replied as he hurried over with the first-aid kit.

  He was going to tear his shirt open but Harry already had done it. The bullet had gone straight through. That wasn’t what was surprising, it was what he could see all over his back — scars of bullet wounds that had healed over. “How long were you in?” Garcia asked.

  “Not long enough.” He reached down and pulled up his pant leg to reveal a prosthetic leg. He’d seen the limp but figured he was old and it was just life catching up with him. Nope, this old-timer had tasted the heat of war, no wonder he was taking this nightmare in stride.

  11

  There was something strange and peaceful to El Dorado. No sense of panic, no fear of attack, no armed security roaming the perimeter. Sure, only seven days had passed since the bombings but the morale of people in cities was nothing like this. Groups of men tilling the ground nearby lifted their eyes as they stepped out of the Jeep. Star told them to wait while she went and got Abner from the mansion. Meadow walked over to a group of teens her age, said something to them and they all looked toward Thomas and Ryan. Several women attended to children, some hung up washing while others called out to kids playing.

  Four pretty teen girls broke away from the group where Meadow was standing and walked past them. A girl with long dark hair looked Ryan up and down in a flirtatious manner. He followed her gaze with a smile.

  It felt like they’d stepped back in time to a long-lost era.

  “I would love to meet the designer,” Thomas said with a chuckle, noting their clothes were the same solid color, a modest potato brown. The whole place had a very Amish feel to it. Several large dogs barked and raced into the tall grass, only to leap out again as children chased them, giddy with excitement. Tiny kids no older than five sat on the steps of the cabin giggling and whispering to each other.

  Their backs were turned when Abner emerged. “Greetings.”

  Sophie turned to face a broad-shouldered man with dark skin, five ten in stature. His dreadlocks flowed past his shoulders. His shirt was the same brown color yet he had some orange beads around his neck, and he was wearing loose white pants and sandals.

  He beamed, flashing pearly whites that looked almost too bright.

  Alex was the first to introduce them as Abner extended a hand and greeted them one by one. When he reached Sophie, he held her hand a little longer and cupped it with his other hand as he stared into her eyes with a disarming smile. “The pain you feel. One day it will be gone,” he said. And like that he let go of her hand and gestured for them to follow him.

  Alex raised an eyebrow and she shrugged.

  Abner stopped and lifted a finger. “Oh before we begin. We’ll need your weapons. You’ll get them back but while you are here we don’t allow anyone to carry.”

  Alex stared at him. “Not happening.”

  Abner didn’t appear to be offended. “That’s fine, then you’ll need to leave, I’m afraid. We don’t condone violence here.”

  Thomas didn’t hesitate, he was the first to remove his rifle and set it on the ground. Sophie followed suit with a handgun. Ryan wasn’t carrying but he encouraged Alex to do the same, saying it was only for one night. Abner raised an eyebrow and locked his hands behind his back. “Your decision.”

  Alex didn’t like it one bit but he followed suit.

  “And the handgun,” Abner said.

  He reached into the small of his back and took that out.

  “Very good. Come. Walk with me. Allow me to introduce you to our home.” As they strolled past the children he placed a hand on each of their heads in a loving way. A couple of the kids said, “Hi, Papa.”

  “Are they all yours?” Sophie asked.

  “Yes. Beautiful, aren’t they?”

  “What is this place?” Alex asked, his eyes roaming the flawless terrain.

  “A haven. Long before the bombings I offered a retreat for people who were tired with day-to-day living. Weekends, month-long getaways, and for some permanent residence if they felt called.”

  “Called?” he asked.

  Abner smiled. “To help.”

  “With?”

  “Life.”

  “Why do you all wear the same clothes?” Thomas asked.

  “Modesty, practicality, and to avoid comparison.”

  “But what about individuality?” Sophie said.

  He smiled as if none of these questions were foreign to him. “Is your individuality determined by the clothes you wear?”

  “Not exactly, but it’s an expression.”

  “And there are many ways to express.” He shifted away from the topic and pointed out another large building. “That is the school over there. We grow all our crops, raise animals, and make clothes. We’re pretty much self-sufficient.”

  “Then why did Star bring back boxes of canned food?” Sophie asked.

  “So we can go above and beyond to help others.”

  “And by help, you mean risking your girls to help others?” Alex asked.

  He found that amusing. “In times like these it’s easy to think of the I and not the We, but there are many suffering, Alex. We aim to ease that suffering. Food, clothes, a shelter if need be,” he said gesturing to the home. “Star is one of our most capable. She might be young but her mind is beyond her years.”

  “What about a vehicle?” Alex asked.

  “For what purpose?”

  “We are on our way to California. Our daughter is there,” Sophie explained. Abner cast her a sideways glance and was quick to reply.

  “Is she?” he asked in a way that seemed to bring into question the validity of that. “I’m sure we can accommodate, but first stay the night. Eat, rest, you all look very tired.”

  “If it’s okay with you, we’d like to move on,” Alex said.

  “Alex,” Sophie snapped.

  Abner caught that. “It’s one night, Alex. I’m sure the others would appreciate it.”

  “I certainly could use a meal,” Thomas said.

  Ryan was still staring at the girl with dark hair. He was listening but distracted. “Yeah, one night. It’s just one night, right?”

  Alex’s brow furrowed as Abner continued to point out areas. “The lake over there is great for fishing and swimming.”

  “What about that building?” Ryan asked.

  “Medical.”

  “You have supplies?”

  He smiled. “Of course, Ryan. We have a lot of things here because we planned ahead.”

  Alex was quick to get to the question that was on all their minds. “In the city. How did Star avoid those drones?”

  “That’s a big question that can’t be answered at this time.” He gestured to another building, quickly changing the topic. “And that one—”

  Alex cut him off. “What do you mean?”

  He stopped walking and looked at them with a disarming smile. “You should be grateful that you’re alive.”

  Sophie gave Alex a nudge. He looked at her then Abner, who turned back toward the route they were heading in as Ryan and Thomas peppered him with questions, mostly about the females.

  Sophie tapped Alex’s arm.

  “What?”

  “Too soon.”

  “Is it? Don�
��t you want to know?”

  “Of course but later.”

  “I just want to get going.”

  “It’s rude.”

  “No, it’s survival,” he said.

  Abner led them inside the mansion that boasted over thirty rooms. There were cathedral ceilings in the main living room and a dining hall with ten huge tables that could seat up to a hundred people. As they walked the corridors, Sophie noticed that the women smiled but kept their heads low as if following some strange ritual. After they were given the full tour, Abner was called away so he left a woman by the name of Daisy to show them to their rooms. Alex and Sophie were put in the same room with one queen-sized bed.

  Sophie raised a finger. “Oh, um…” Before she could get the words out, Daisy backed out, closing the doors behind her.

  Alex tossed down his backpack on the bed, put a hand on his waist and ran the other hand over his jaw. “Well this is awkward.”

  “I’ll speak to them later. See if they have another room.”

  “Or…” he said pointing to an uncomfortable-looking chair. “I could sleep in that.”

  “No. No, Alex, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Sophie, we’ve slept in a cramped truck for most of the way. I think this is a step up. It’s fine. Besides, I don’t like the idea of us being separated.”

  She smiled as she went over to a set of doors that led out to a balcony. It provided a breathtaking view of the lake, and the surrounding forest and hills. “Reminds me of our wedding night.”

  He took a seat. “Minus the two bottles of wine.”

  “What? I was nervous,” she said.

  He laughed.

  “Man, I could use a cigarette.” She had run out several days ago and was climbing the walls in her mind. Years ago she’d attempted to quit and it lasted all of three days before she caved in and bought a pack.

  “Well maybe Holy Moses can heal you,” Alex said leaning forward. “Seems to have everyone else in this place under his spell.”

  “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

  Alex got up and ran his hands over a radio, then a painting on the wall. Were they watching, listening? “It’s strange, isn’t it?” he said.

  “What?”

  “This place.”

  “It’s beautiful. Peaceful.”

  “Yeah, too peaceful.” He joined her on the balcony. “It’s like all these people are living in denial. Beyond this forest is a nation that has collapsed and they’re all here playing happy families. You can’t say there isn’t something wrong with this picture. And what about Star? We have a thirteen-year-old who is capable of dodging drones that are wiping everyone else out, and then at the ranch we have a guy who looks like he’s just stepped out of a New Age video.”

  She laughed. “One night. That’s all. Half the day is already over with, Alex. What can happen?”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  Leo was more uncomfortable with the situation with each passing minute. Since Ramiro had left, Miguel hadn’t taken his eyes off him. The other three in the room stood around watching the lady as she bled out. “Let me at least bandage her leg,” Leo said.

  Miguel toyed with a handgun, drinking a beer at the same time.

  “You’re not in charge, Leo. She’s fine.”

  “She’s bleeding out.”

  Miguel smiled. “That she is.”

  The mistake they’d made was giving Leo a handgun. They assumed that because there were more of them and he was under their watchful eye he wouldn’t try anything. Maybe that was true. It certainly had prevented him from acting sooner.

  The fact was gang members lived in fear of retribution, being jumped and beaten badly. Of course there was the fact that Alvaro had told him that if he didn’t follow through with his orders, he would not only kill him but he would execute every single person in the church.

  Leo leaned against the wall, looking at the woman. She hadn’t stopped groaning since that bullet had entered her leg. Her face was a pasty white. Could she survive? Maybe, but there was a strong chance she would bleed out if he didn’t get her some help soon.

  Miguel put his feet up on an ottoman and tapped his fingers while keeping one hand on his gun. “Heard you had quite the reputation back in the day. What happened?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “C’mon, homie. You can tell us. You’re among friends.”

  “Friends?”

  Miguel sucked air between his teeth and nodded.

  “That why you have your finger on the trigger?” Leo asked.

  He smiled as he leaned forward. “Alvaro told us about you. Like you were some kind of myth or legend. What was it?” he said clicking his fingers. “You killed sixty, maybe eighty gang members with that gun of yours. That right?”

  Leo’s eyes kept bouncing over to the woman who grimaced, her face a mask of pain and anguish. He couldn’t do this any longer. He thought he could. He thought he could return, follow the law of calmado, but he wasn’t going to kill an innocent man, someone who he didn’t even know.

  Miguel wiggled his fingers. “Come, let me have a look at that piece of yours.”

  He got up and walked over and Leo removed it from his waistband. Miguel ejected the magazine. It was loaded. He pulled back the slider and a round in the chamber ejected. He picked it up and put it in front of his face. “This is what we live and die by.” He took the bullet and put it on the top of his tongue and swallowed it. He flashed a grin, two of his teeth pure gold. The other three in the room laughed. He palmed the magazine back in, and tucked it into the back of his waistband. “I have an idea. If you can get this off me, you can get a bandage for the lady. How’s that sound?”

  The others got this glint in their eye. They knew he was baiting him into a fight, a way to prove his manhood, a way to demonstrate to the others he had what it took to rise through the ranks. What better way than to give someone with a reputation a good licking? He backed up. “Make some room, guys. Drag her into the dining room.”

  Leo shook his head. “You think Ramiro would approve?”

  “Ramiro isn’t here. Let’s see what you got.”

  Miguel handed off his piece to his pal and rolled up his sleeves, brought his fists up and baited him forward. Leo took a step forward and Miguel backed up, his nostrils flaring. “C’mon homie!”

  When he saw Leo wouldn’t do anything, he stepped forward and cracked him on the jaw. “You better use those fists of yours or you’ll be spitting blood.”

  Leo opened and closed his jaw, working out the tension and releasing the pain.

  Again, Miguel stepped forward to strike him but before he could fire off a punch, Leo kicked him in the nuts then cracked him with a hard punch that knocked him out cold. The other three looked on, their eyes widening.

  “Any of you wanna try?”

  He crouched down and removed his gun, making sure to load a round into the chamber. While he was on the ground, the thought went through his mind again. Three shots. That’s all it would take. Ramiro would come after him. He’d have to live on the run. He glanced up at the three. It had been a few years since he’d fired. Was he rusty? As if perceiving what he was about to do, one of them reached for a handgun.

  Worst mistake ever.

  Three shots.

  He took two of them out with rounds to the head and the last with one to the chest. He had to get up and walk over to him as he was writhing on the ground, still attempting to go for his piece. That was the thing about 18th Street, they weren’t pussies, and they would fight to the death.

  The guy’s hand never made it.

  Leo fired another round into the man’s chest, then one more for good measure.

  The woman in the next room cried out from behind her rag as he walked over to the window and looked out. They would be back soon and by then he needed to be gone.

  Leo removed the woman’s rag from her mouth, her cries echoed in the home as he tried to reassure her tha
t he was going to help, that he wasn’t like them and he would get her to safety. He untied her wrists and ankles, looped an arm around her waist and carried her out of the house toward her neighbor’s.

  He couldn’t take her with him but he could hide her, ensure Ramiro didn’t finish what he started because finishing the mission was always in the plans. If Ramiro had his way, neither this woman nor the mayor would live to see nightfall.

  12

  As daylight gave way to night, Garcia watched the group of three through his rifle scope. They couldn’t have been more than twenty-five years old, scrawny, meth heads by the look of their skin. Nearby, he noticed several new buildings were on fire. A hard wind blew the smell of smoke his way.

  He’d waited a good ten minutes before heading up onto the roof. Harry was right, it was as secure as Fort Knox. The roof was made from steel, so no one could burrow in, and there was a reinforced steel hatch with multiple locks to prevent anyone from prying it open. Harry told him he’d had the store designed by a guy who created bunkers. There was even an area below the floor where he could retreat if faced with a biological weapon.

  Harry said if the shit hit the fan and he couldn’t get home from work he could hole up there for at least a good six months.

  He’d thought of everything except this.

  After he’d patched up his wound, Harry gave him a tour below the store. He’d lifted floorboards and revealed his huge stash of freeze-dried food, water bottles and enough ammunition to start a war.

  It made sense. A man who had served his country for the better part of his life would go on to serve the community by offering them a means of surviving.

  Staying low on the roof, Garcia shifted the rifle. He’d lost sight of the attackers behind a curtain of white smoke. When the wind cleared, his eyes widened. A good distance down the street he caught them heading over to a bank, there he caught sight of Travis. Shit. For a brief moment he thought they were in danger. He observed Travis slam one of the meth heads into a parked car and point back at the store. He looked pissed.

  Had Travis seen what they’d done?

  Would he kill them?