Without Law 2

by Eric Vall

  I shook my head and waited until he walked away to continue my task of gathering supplies. I found some duffle bags and school-style backpacks and started to fill them with ammo. The more prepared I could be, the more stuff I could get to the truck before the bikers got the motorcycle situation under control.

  I couldn’t find any bags large enough to hold the guns, so I found some rope and made a couple bundles of rifles. It was not a perfect solution, but at least it would allow me to move more than one or two at a time. I skipped over the alcohol since I was going to use it to start a fire, we already had plenty on campus, and I had no reason to risk myself for some comfort. I did, however, fill some paper bags full of cans and dry food.

  I prepared about a truck bed worth of gear to carry, grabbed my first load, and headed back outside. The guy I had seen walk by was in an alley a couple blocks away emptying his bladder, but there was no one else in line of sight.

  I sprinted towards the truck with my arms full of bags containing non perishable food. Thankfully no one was around as I reached the rusted vehicle, and I tossed my first load into the back. Three more loads should fill up the shallow bed of the pickup truck, and I didn’t think it would take me that much more time.

  The area was quiet as I reached the warehouse. Not even the peeing biker in the ally was around any longer, so I slipped back inside the building and loaded up on ammo. I figured it was the next most important thing since we had quite a few guns already, but they would be worthless without ammo. Once I couldn’t fit anymore gear on me I went back outside and saw six guys hanging out in my usual path to the truck. The bikers all passed around a cigarette and a bottle of tequila, but they weren’t really looking in my direction.

  I rolled my eyes and cut around the back of the building. Then I made my way through the dark ended streets and towards the truck in a less direction fashion. My change in route paid off, and I met no resistance. I quietly unloaded all the ammo in the bed of the truck, and then I covered it with the tarp so that any passerby wouldn’t easily notice my loot.

  I followed the same route back to the warehouse, but when I came around the corner, I saw a single chubby biker stumbling towards the store.

  “I want a bigger fuckin gun,” he muttered to himself. “That asshole won’t make fun of me if I get a bigger gun.”

  I needed to be quick, so I pulled out my knife, ran up to him, and drove the blade through his temple. He slumped to the ground as I ripped the sticky knife free, and then I stopped at the body just long enough to peel off his vest and throw it on. The black leather vest stank badly of body odor, and was overly large on my athletic frame, but I figured it might give me a few seconds of camouflage in the chance that someone saw me.

  I grabbed my first load of guns and the last of the ammo. After this we would have more than enough 5.56 to keep us training for at least a month, and I fought hard to keep the wide grin off my face.

  This was going to work, and I was going to return to my women with enough supplies to train them into real warriors.

  I peeked outside and saw that the bikers were still paying no attention to the warehouse. The six guys were still a little ways away, but I just slipped around the back again and made my way to the truck.

  A couple bikers zipped past me on their motorcycles but the jacket fooled them, so I made it to the truck and started to load the gear into the back.

  “Hey brother, what are you doing?” I heard a gruff voice ask me, and I turned to see a broad shouldered, long haired man. He didn’t look drunk, but his eyes were narrowed at me suspiciously, and I wondered if he happened to see me moving down here from one of the dark windows of the nearby homes.

  “I found something in the bed of the truck,” I said.

  “What’d you find?” the man asked.

  “Guns and booze!” I said as I forced a laugh to my lips. I wasn’t much of an actor, and my heart was hammering into my chest.

  “Really?” he asked as he walked over.

  As soon as he stepped close to me, I pulled out my pistol and rested it against his temple in one smooth, practiced move.

  He didn’t even have a chance to flinch before I pulled the trigger.

  His brain exploded out the other side of his head like a Fourth of July popper, and his body instantly dropped. I’d pressed the barrel into the side of his skull when I’d fired my shot, so the sound was as bit muffled, but it was still loud, and I guessed that someone would probably come and investigate the noise.

  Unless everyone else was too fucking drunk.

  I pulled the man’s gun out of his pocket pressed it into the hole in his skull to make the barrel bloody and then put it in his left hand. The action only took me a few seconds to do, but I hoped that it would mean that whoever found the body would think the guy committed suicide. It was a bit of a stretch, but they might find that easier to believe than someone sneaking into their base.

  I checked to make sure the tarp on the truck covered my loot, and then I dashed over to the narrow alley ten or so yards away from us.

  Then I waited.

  I expected at least one person to come investigate the gunshot sound, but all I heard was laughter and shouting from the various other parts of the bikers’ base. I realized I was holding my breath, which was a bit unlike me, so I slowly forced it out and then waited another minute for anyone to come by. No one did, and I shook my head.

  “Fucking amatures,” I sighed, and then I made my way back to the warehouse to get the last of my loot.

  This package had the last of the guns, pipe bombs, grenades, and my molotov cocktails. I was now familiar with all the routes back to the truck, and I found that the body was right where I left it when I returned.

  A few moments later all of my loot was secure in the bed of the truck and covered with the tarp. The first part of my plan was a success, and I took a deep breath as I prepared myself for the second part.

  It was time to do some major fucking damage to these assholes.

  I tossed everything but the backpack into the truck, covered it all with the tarp, and then went back to where their group of bikes were.

  I used the bikes as cover to sneak into the gas station and grab a couple gallons of gasoline. Then I proceeded to cover all of the bikes with a liberal amount of the fluid. I had to stop a couple times and take cover as a group of drunk bikers walked by, but none of them bothered to look in my direction.

  It took me about ten minutes to coat the whole area in fuel. Then I made my way to the edge, pulled out a spare strip of shirt I had leftover from making molotovs, lit it on fire, and tossed it into the bikes.

  Then I retreated back to a nicely concealed spot twenty yards from the motor pool as the blaze started behind me.

  I set down my backpack of explosives and pulled out the pipe bombs and Molotovs while I waited for the enemy to gather. Soon enough, the fire started to lick the gas station building, and someone let out a scream of alarm. A few moments later a dozen men were trying to bat the flames on the bikes out with their vests, and I heard more men screaming from the edges of the city.

  I picked up my first pipe bomb.

  They were crude homemade devices made with a six inch length of threaded metal pipe. There was a cap screwed on to each end, and a wick was shoved through a hole drilled through one of the caps. Industrial epoxy was used to hold the wick in place and create a tight seal where the hole had been drilled. I pulled out the zippo I had taken from the first biker I ran into a few weeks back and hoped that these things were built well enough to not just go off in my hands.

  I crouched behind me cover so I was not exposed. I had chosen this spot because both the HQ, and the apartment complex were in front of me, meaning that I was more likely to stay out of sight when people came to investigate the commotion. I took a deep breath and flicked the lighter open.

  As soon as I lit this bomb, there was no turning back.

  “Fuck these guys,” I whispered under my breath, and then I lit the f
use and chucked the pipe bomb into the gangs motor pool as the fuse sparked and sputtered. If this thing did what it was supposed to this would create quite the bang.

  There was a large metallic thud as the pipe bomb struck one of the bikes a couple rows in. A moment later there was an underwhelming pop, and two of the bikes fell over.

  “Shit,” I hissed under my breath and lit another. I tossed this one in a different area and took cover as a couple nearby bikers started towards where I had thrown the first.

  “Is someone shooting at the bikes?” one of them screamed.

  “Just put out the fucking fire!” another one screamed over the chorus of their cries.

  “I fucking am, you piece of sh--”

  The man’s words were cut short as the second pipe bomb exploded. Unlike the first this one acted more like a proper explosive device and several smaller explosions followed as some of the bikes popped.

  The air filled with panicked screams as a half dozen of the men were knocked away from the fire.

  I grinned and lit another one as the bikers all began to jump away from the bikes. The men were split up into four clusters, but from the sounds of their panicked screams, it seemed like they just thought the gas tanks on the bikes were exploding.

  It was time to change that.

  I pulled out one of the actual grenades and flicked the pin out.

  The device felt familiar in my hand, and I gently tossed it across the ground toward the largest pack in the middle. They were a good thirty yards away from me, and I was trying to keep the explosive closer to the ground so it wouldn’t be noticed, so I was a bit worried that it might have twisted on the ground too much. My throw ended up being true, though, and it rolled right into the boot of the man shouting for help.

  He glanced down, and I saw his face twist with horror.

  “Fuck, we’re under att--” a biker began to shout, but then the explosive went off, and everything turned into chaos.

  The group of men next to the grenade were pretty much torn to shreds by the force of the explosion and the fragmentations inside. A few limbs flew through the air, but mostly it was just smoke and blood.

  And screams.

  “What the fuck is happening?” someone screamed, but I was already tossing my next grenade into the small cluster of men.

  “Get this fire out!” someone shouted over the screams of the crowd, “We need to--”

  His group was caught in the second explosion and all of them twisted away from the blast like broken crash-test dummies thrown from a speeding car.

  I lit two of my Molotov’s, stood up and chucked them at the bikers as well. Several of them were caught in the resulting inferno. I crouched down, pulled up my rifle, and steadied it atop one of the aluminum trash cans as the enemy started to panic.

  “Where the fuck are we getting hit from?” someone screamed.

  That’s when I started shooting.

  I took down the last guy who spoke as he stood backlit by firelight. The three guys next to him dropped next as they stood stunned at the sudden death of their friend.

  These guys were completely unprepared.

  It wasn’t quite like shooting fish in a barrel, but it was close enough. Some men tried to run away, but it was easy enough to track them, and each of my bullets found a skull or chest to burst through. It was complete chaos, but there way too many bikers now to take out, and I knew I’d have to run soon.

  I quickly killed fifteen of them, but then I heard the metal ping of a bullet hitting my cover and saw two guys off by the burning warehouse popping shots off from behind a dumpster.

  I shifted to aim at them and waited patiently for one of them to pop out and take a shot. A man wearing a cowboy hat exposed his entire top half as he leaned out to fire in my direction. I put two rounds through his chest and adjusted as his friend leaned out from the other side. He caught a single bullet to the skull.

  “He’s over there!” I heard someone shout over the sound of the fire, screaming, and the adrenaline coursing through my body.

  It was time to move.

  But it wasn’t time to leave yet. I wasn’t done punishing these fuckers.

  I looked over the fire lit base that swarmed with suspicious bikers. If I could find a good vantage point, I could easily pick off some of these search parties. I weighed my options for a moment, before I decided upon the apartment complex. Less of the gang was milling about that area, and from three stories up I would be able to see almost everything.

  I readied my gun and ran for the apartment. I took out two guys along the way who were running toward the fire at the gas station. Neither of them saw me before it was too late, but I knew that the sounds of my rifle barking twice would probably draw attention.

  I hit the building hard and fast. I kicked open the front door, did a sweep of the dingy red carpeted hallway, and once I was certain it was empty, stepped inside. The hallway ended in a T split, and I moved quickly towards it while I kept an eye out on the doors lining the hall around me. None of them opened as I passed. For a moment I was sad that I didn’t have the girls here for backup. Together we could have done a full clear of the building, but alone it seemed like a bad idea.

  I reached the end of the hall and pressed myself up against the left wall, swung around, and checked the left hall. It took me only a moment to confirm it was empty before I turned to check the right. It was empty as well, but the end of the right hallway ended in a staircase.

  I checked the left passage one last time before I jogged to the staircase in the right one. I looked up and saw that the rectangular staircase would take me all the way up to the third floor. I spun to check the passage behind me one last time before I ascended the stairs.

  As I stepped onto the landing of the second floor bullets tore apart the wall behind. I flopped down on my stomach and spotted a man in the hallway with an automatic rifle. The line of bullets started to tear down the wall towards my prone form as I lined up my sight.

  Then the world seemed to slow as I took a deep breath and squeezed off two shots that tore through the man’s chest.

  An apartment door swung open and another biker leaned out with his pistol. He took a couple shots and ducked back into the doorway. I shifted to a kneeling position and waited with my gun trained on the open doorway.

  “That was a bad idea!” I called out.

  In response the biker leaned out to shoot at me again, but I put a couple rounds through the door and he collapsed to the ground.

  I didn’t hear anything else besides the screams of the men trying to fight the fire, so I stood up and marched up to the third floor. This one looked worse than the floors beneath it. Almost every door in the hall was broken or pulled from its hinges, and the air was filled with the stench of rot and decay.

  I sighed and shook my head. I could only imagine what I would find behind any one of those broken doors. At the end of the hall there was another small staircase that angled up.

  I gave one last look down the stairs, and once I was sure I was not being followed I headed forward. As I stepped onto the red carpet of the hallway and found it soft and squishy underfoot. I kept my eyes forward as I passed by the broken doors as I had already seen more than enough horror for one day.

  I ascended the stairs and stepped out onto the flat apartment roof. The shouts of the bikers were thick in the air, and the whole area was lit by the dim orange glow of flames since they had no real way to put out uncontrolled fires.

  Now it was probably going to be like shooting fish in a barrel.

  I setup my rifle on the edge of the roof and pulled my rope from my pack. After a quick search of the roof I found a section of exposed pipe that looked strong enough to hold me, and I tied the rope off on it before I tossed the other end off the edge by my rifle. Then I went about barricading the rooftop door. I jammed some rocks and bits of debris into the bottom to keep it from swinging open and used a small bit of pipe to jam the door handle. It wouldn’t hold forever but it wou
ld at least buy me a few minutes. I set out one of the two molotovs I had packed into my backpack. When they got through, I would be ready for them.

  Now that the door was secure, and I had a quick exit in place, I crouched next to my rifle and started to look for targets.

  There were really too many.

  Scattered groups of bikers moved through the area using torches to light their way. From my vantage point the roaming packs were easy targets, and the 4x zoom of my sight made placing accurate shots just as easy.

  There was a group of four roaming around the area by my new truck. I aimed at them first and opened fire. My first shot took down what looked to be a man holding a shotgun. The group froze which allowed me a second shot to take down the biker who had been at his side.

  The last two members of the group panicked and ran for the nearest cover. The one with the torch slid behind a pile of rubble, but he realized too late that the light he held made him easier to target.

  I put a bullet through his head as he tried to smother the simple light source and tried to find the fourth man. The darkness made picking out specific details difficult, and this last goon had been smart enough to separate himself from the light source.

  There was another trio of men running out of the distant warehouse. I lined up my sight and sent my initial bullet through the chests of the first two men coming out, and then my second shot tagged the third man right in the nose, and his brain emptied into the room he had just exited.

  I spotted another group of five running toward the bikes from the ten o’clock position a good sixty yards away. I could see them glancing at the rooftops in my direction, but they weren’t focused on my exact location.

  Five shots later and they all had holes in their chests.

  I heard two pops and a bullet whizzed past my head. I threw myself down, and a moment later, there was another pop and a second bullet broke apart some of the brick rim to my left. I took the opportunity to switch out my almost empty magazine with a full one, but I figured I was only going to be able to get a few more shots off before I had to get off the building.