Without Law 2

by Eric Vall

  “No, nothing like that,” Bailey said as she stopped and tried to catch her breath.

  “Yeah, we actually had something we wanted to talk to you about,” Paige said. “It’s about Rolly.”

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Not exactly,” Bailey said. “While you were gone, we found out that he has a heart condition. It’s manageable with medication.”

  “Yeah, but he was worried that you might make him take it easy, so he didn’t say anything,” Paige added before she handed me a slip of paper. “He is running low, Tav. To stretch it out, Rolly has been skipping days at random. I wrote down the name of the drug. If you can find some place with a pharmacy could you see if you can find more?”

  “Of course,” I said as I tucked the paper into my pocket. “Thanks for telling me about this. I really wish the old man would have just told me himself. I could have taken care of this last time we were in Lanceton.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I told him,” Bailey said. “He didn’t want us telling you even after we found out a couple nights ago.”

  “Rolly is one stubborn old handyman,” Paige said with a smile.

  “That he is,” I agreed. “That’s why I need to make sure he sticks around for a while. I think there was a pharmacy in Lanceton. I’ll make a stop and see if they have what we need on my way towards trouble.”

  “Thanks, Tav,” Bailey said.

  “Yeah, I really don’t know what we would do without you,” Paige said.

  “You guys would do awesome, but don’t worry, I won’t be gone long,” I said before I slipped the motorcycle helmet back on, started the engine, and headed out of town.

  It was only ten miles to Lanceton, and despite the abandoned cars that littered the road I was able to make the trip in less than twenty minutes. I knew the bikers had been around and did not want to risk riding directly into a group of them, so I pulled up outside of town, rolled my bike out of sight, and finished the trip on foot.

  Things looked worse than they had during my last trip to Lanceton. There were more broken windows and several of the houses had collapsed into charred heaps, and I guessed that the bikers had evidently come back looking for whoever killed their friends here.

  I pulled my pistol and checked every alley, crossroad, and intersection as I made my way towards the center of town. Most of the businesses were set up in the small downtown area that surrounded a quaint city park. If I was going to find a pharmacy it was going to be in that area.

  I was only a couple blocks from the city center when I heard the laughing. It suddenly became very clear that I was not alone. My pace slowed as I moved quietly through the streets.

  A couple gunshots echoed, and the sound of shattering glass filled the air for a moment. Then there was a cheer followed by wild laughter, and I rolled my eyes as another couple shots filled the air. It seemed I was just in time for target practice, so I snuck through the alley toward the noises.

  Two scrawny looking biker goons stood in the square with their guns drawn. The first goon, a short man with stringy long blond hair, tossed up an empty alcohol bottle, while the second goon, a taller man with short cropped black hair, took shots with his shiny silver beretta. The bottle crashed to the ground after the gunman missed three shots.

  “You, like, fucking suck dude,” the blond man laughed.

  “Shuddup, I’m just drunk,” the tall one replied.

  “Oh yeah, and what’s your excuse when you’re sober?” the blond man joked.

  “Hey, fuck you man,” the tall one yelled.

  “No thanks, I'm not into dudes,” the greasy blond laughed. “Especially ones as ugly as you.”

  Both men broke into a fit of laughter and struggled to stay upright.

  I rolled my eyes again and pulled up the rifle that hung from my shoulder. I didn’t see anyone other than these two idiots, and I was fairly sure if they had backup they would be close by. The guys were less than 20 yards away and aiming for vital organs was almost trivial with the 4x sight currently attached to the top of my gun. I smiled a little, let out a slow breath, and took the first shot. The blond man lurched backwards as a puff of red plumed from his chest, but before he had dropped to the ground, I shifted and took the second shot. The tall biker dropped instantly as I put a round right through his spine at the base of his skull. Then I waited, but no reinforcements came.

  I stood up and let the gun hang on its sling once more. It was an impressive piece of firepower with a perfectly sighted optic. Sure, I had been close, but I had not expected it to hit so precisely where I had aimed. I patted the still warm gun and nodded. It was nice having something reliable and accurate at my side.

  I marched into the square and picked up two new guns. The tall man had the shiny silver beretta, but the short blond had a sawn off pump action 12 gauge shoved into his pants. Both the stock and the barrel had been cut down in an uneven and amateur fashion. The guys were light on ammo with only twenty seven rounds of 9mm on the tall man, and eighteen rounds of 12 gauge birdshot stuffed into the pockets of the other.

  I added the guns and ammo to my pack before I stood up and scanned the area. There was a small convenience store at the corner of the square with a red pharmacy sign still hanging in the broken window, so I crossed the square and stepped into the building.

  It was dark and most of the shelves had been picked clean and toppled over. I clicked on my flashlight and stepped over countless bags of moldy bread and rotting snacks as I made my way to the back of the store. The large window that separated the main store from the pharmacy was cracked but remained intact, so I put a couple bullets through the lock, and pulled the door open. The room beyond was well stocked with lots of different types of pharmaceuticals, and I gave a silent fist pump.

  Then I took out the paper from my vest and let out a sigh. Paige had clean and easy to read handwriting, but I realized I would have to go through all of the drugs here until I found the one on the paper.

  “Hopefully I find it fast,” I whispered to myself as I pulled up the rolling chair and went to work reading labels.

  I went through countless bottles of hard to pronounce pills before I finally stumbled upon half a dozen bottles of Rollys prescribed heart medicine.

  “Helly yeah.” I let out a sigh of relief and put the bottles in my backpack. I didn’t know how long the bottles would last, but I was glad to know that, at least for a while, Rolly would be okay.

  Since I was already here, I saw no reason not to pick up a few more pills that could come in handy, so I kept searching through the bottles until I found four bottles of amoxicillin antibiotics, and a couple bottles of antihistamines in case anyone had allergy problems.

  Then I saw some oval packs of pills that I recognized.

  “Hell yeah,” I said as I pulled one of the oval packs off the shelf. They were grouped together with other small pills in boxes that all seemed to indicate that they were contraceptives of various brands, so I shoveled all the bright colored pills and packages on the shelves around the oval birth control pill containers into my pack. I lost count of everything I took, but my bag was now stuffed, and I figured that the girls could decide whether they wanted to start using them or not.

  I made my way back through the store and out into the noon day sun. It was painfully bright, and it took my eyes a moment to adjust. Based on the position of the sun it seemed that I had been in the store for a couple hours. Once my eyes adjusted, I made my way through town and back towards my bike.

  Under the comfort of the forest shade I stopped, took a seat on my bike, pulled out lunch, and looked up at the sky as I took a bite of jerky. I was more behind than I had hoped to be by this point, but maybe that was for the best. My operation would be easier under cover of darkness and based on this map I would still make it to the base before nightfall. That meant I had some time to kill.

  I took my time and enjoyed the jerky, dry crackers, and boiled water I had packed for the trip while I listened to the bir
ds chirp happily around me. Things were still rather beautiful despite this whole end of the world scenario. It was not exactly the world I had hoped to come back to when I left the woods but, surprisingly, things were good.

  Though I could certainly do with less crazy asshole bikers and meth heads.

  After I ate, I turned on my bike, tossed the water bottle back into my pack, threw on my helmet, and looked at my map one more time before I took off.

  The trees whipped by as I weaved my way along the winding mountain roads and dodged the many abandoned cars in my path. Every sign I passed had been vandalized, and the closer I got to the biker camp the more burnt-out cars I noticed. A couple miles later I passed two bodies rotting on the side of the road. They were both wearing a state trooper uniform and neither of them had a head.

  Unfortunately, this was the sort of destruction I had expected to find, especially after Lanceton.

  About an hour into my trip there was a break in the trees to my left that led to a small town, or what was left of it. I pulled off the road, pushed up the visor of the helmet, and shook my head. Most of the buildings were black and charred piles of rubble, and large anarchy symbols were sprayed in bright red paint on anything still standing.

  The bikers were nothing but a pack of feral dogs, and someone needed to put them down. I flipped down my visor, gunned the engine, and tore out of town.

  The road took me over a small mountain and down into a valley full of dense forest. I passed a second town, this one closer to the road, but I didn’t even need to slow down to see the burnt-out ruins it had become. It seemed that these guys had a real thing for fire. Honestly, I was a little suprised they had not torched a house or two when they visited the college town.

  I rode for another half-hour until it became clear that I was getting close. Instead of graffiti the traffic signs were now adorned with barely cleaned skulls and splashes of dried blood. By the time the sky started to darken, I could hear the roar of engines faintly in the distance. That was my sign to pull over, so I hid my bike, left my backpack, and headed into the forest towards the rumble of motorcycles.

  The sound of laughter, and the occasional cheer mingled with the sound of engines as I drew closer to what I could only assume was my destination. The occasional gunshot mixed with the cacophony of noises, and I made out bits of firelight through the trees. I smelled oily smoke and exhaust with hints of rot and decay that painted a vivid scene in my mind even though I didn’t even have a clear view of their camp yet.

  I came to the top of a wooded hill and climbed the tallest tree. There, about a mile to the north, was what looked to be a large encampment. I could see many small fires burning in random places and dozens of small black dots moving around the area, so I pulled out the spotters scope to get a closer look.

  A single road led into town, but there was a large gate of plywood and scrap metal that seemed to be patrolled my half a dozen figures. The front of the gate looked to be adorned with dozens of corpses impaled on spikes.

  Fuck. These assholes were insane.

  Bikers zipped in and out of town at irregular intervals, and the whole place seemed to be full of chaos. Even with the help of the scope I couldn’t make out enough details.

  “I gotta get closer,” I muttered as I put down the spotters scope. I took out my map and drew a rough map of the town on the back while I worked on a plan to get inside. If I was going to learn what I was up against, I couldn’t just hide in the woods and watch, but lucky for me the only thing that seemed to be patrolled was the front gate. The rest of the town was ringed by trees and most of the activity seemed to be based on the center of the encampment.

  My plan was to sneak through the forest on the west side of town, slip into the small residential section, and make my way towards the center. There was very little movement and activity around the dark houses that sat on the west side and, under cover of darkness, the area would provide me ample places to hide. I nodded and climbed down the tree. There were still a couple of hours before nightfall, but I had a bit of a hike ahead of me.

  I cut a path close to the edge of the forest as I made my way around towards the west side. During the trip I passed close enough to the gate to be able to get a better view. More bodies that I had been unable to make out with the scope were strung up around the barricade, and a handful of them were tagged with the anarchy symbol in bright red. The bodies were all at different stages of decomposition, but there was a single thing that tied them all together. Every single body decorating these psychos’ gate were in uniform. I could make out cops, state troopers, and a few National Guard.

  I growled and balled my fists. Their distaste for authority was clear, and it made me sick. While I knew that these types were bound to crop up, I had hoped that I wouldn’t have to deal with them so soon after coming back to what remained of civilization. Large red lines were etched into my palms as I forced myself to relax my fingers. The more I saw of this place the more I wished they gave me a reason to show them that there was still justice in the world.

  “You are just here to get intel,” I muttered under my breath as I made myself keep going. When darkness fell, I wanted to be ready, and I couldn’t let my anger distract me from the real reason I was here.

  Yeah, I needed to get intel, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt for me to kill a few of them in the process?

  Chapter 14

  I waited at the edge of camp until the sun set. The neighborhood I looked over was quiet, and dark. Three guys stumbled by at one point, pissed into the trees, and headed back into town. It was easy to slip into town since no one seemed to be worried that they might get infiltrated from any direction but the front.

  As I entered the neighborhood it became clear why the bikers avoided this part of town. The buildings were trashed, and the streets and yards were littered with decomposing dead. Unlike those at the gate these weren’t wearing uniforms.

  I stopped and put a hand over my mouth as I looked down at the mutilated corpse of what had once been a teenage boy.

  “These fucking animals,” I muttered as I shook my head. It had been a long time since I had seen something this bad.

  I continued through the neighborhood and saw no end to the bodies. In fact, there were more of them the closer I got towards where the bikers stayed.

  And most of them were women.

  Several female corpses were fresh enough to show no real signs of rot, but they were covered in bruises and clad in only torn shreds of clothing. Some were actually naked, and I had to take a few deep breaths when I stepped around them. I had forgotten how hard it was to distance myself from the atrocities around me, but if I wanted this to remain a scouting operation, I had to remain stoic.

  While I looked for a place to hunker down until late in the night, I noticed an ancient, battered pick up truck. It was likely an old farm truck and was old enough that it might just still run. I didn’t know if that guess was correct, but it was worth keeping in mind.

  I set up in a small house on the edge of the neighborhood that overlooked the bulk of the town. I started by making sure all of the doors were locked and barricaded in case someone tried to get in. Then I found a nice spot in one of the second story bedrooms and settled in for a long night.

  The whole town was built around what was once a Vermont State Police HQ, but like so much of the world around here, it was defaced and adorned with grizzly proof of the new occupants barbaric tendencies.

  While no bodies were strung up on the building itself there were some skulls hanging in the doorway, and the anarchy symbol had been used generously as a means to cover up the state trooper symbol and name. There were also half a dozen guys setup outside the main entrance and at least two at the two other doors I could see from my vantage point. It was the most heavily guarded building in this entire area, so I guessed this is where they either stored their guns or where their leader lived.

  Dozens of Triumph motorcycles sat in a gas station parking lot across the street, a
nd groups of bikers were spread out around the area in small groups huddled near fire barrels. The bikers laughed, drank, and occasionally fought among themselves, and I watched people routinely ride in and out of town.

  There were two other buildings that seemed to be important aside from the main station. The first was a three story brick apartment building that seemed to be fairly well traveled and based on the flickering orange light coming from a dozen different windows I would guess it was fairly well occupied. Unlike the station, no one guarded the apartments, but the number of bikers that hung around it meant that getting inside would be a bit of an issue.

  The second was what looked to be a small grocery store. It was stocked, well lit, and guarded by two men with shotguns. Unlike almost every other building in the city the glass windows in the front of the store remained intact, and I watched a few transactions transpire. Some biker would come up, talk to a guard, and offer something to him. Then the guard would take the item and go inside before coming out with something else. The grocery store seemed to be where the gang stockpiled their loot and bartered.

  I spent an hour watching the area, but with the constant activity, and my imperfect point of view, it was almost impossible for me to come up with an accurate number of bikers in town. If I could get inside the buildings, I could get a more accurate count but that would be dangerous, and I saw no reason to take that risk. As it stood, I guessed that there were just under forty bikers buzzing about this dung heap they called home.

  As the night went on more of the men around the barrels wandered over to the apartment building and disappeared inside, and even the guards in front of the grocery store warehouse locked up the building and headed inside. A small portion of the bikers broke off and made their way towards the station. Some of them switched out with the guards on duty, but some slipped inside.

  I slumped back in my chair and let out a small sigh. There was not much more I could learn from this chair. I needed to get closer, so I packed away my spotters scope and slipped out the back door.