American Apocalypse Wastelands (38 page)

The bell in front of the station began tolling and didn't stop.
Shit!
I thought. Max held up his hand. We could hear more gunshots. Closer. Quick staccato bursts.

“Go back. Get the squad. They should be at the park in minutes. As soon as you get a handful, move them to where you hear gunfire.”

“Got it.” I turned and almost tripped over Freya. That kid could move quietly, that was for damn sure. “Get your ass in the town hall!” I screamed at her.

I ran back to the park. The gunfire was picking up. I could hear someone using a BAR near the diner.
Shit!
That was too close to the food bank. The bell had gone silent. I was getting a bad feeling, a very bad feeling.

The squad started to arrive at the park. One of them came hauling ass on a bike. A car sped up the street and didn't stop until it was on the grass. Two more squad members jumped out. They all huddled around me. Thank God they were silent—watchful, but silent. I heard murmurs of “What the fuck?” and “What are we waiting for?” but no one spoke directly to me. I was getting itchy. I wanted to move.
But where to go first?
Ninja came running as fast as I had ever seen him move, yelling something. Maybe he knew which direction we should move. I looked around; with Ninja I'd have a squad of nine, plus myself.“Teams of three. On me!” I yelled.

Ninja came to a breathless halt. I didn't like how pale he looked. My bad feeling intensified. “G! Night's down! Night's down!”

“Where?”

“By the diner! There are truckloads of them!”

I took off at a run. Ninja could lead the others. I had shit to do. I sprinted toward the station. Behind me I could hear boots pounding on the pavement.

My heart was screaming,
Night's down! Night's down!
My head was whispering,
Think. Don't react. Think
. My heart replied,
Fuck that. Kill 'em all
.

 

Then all thoughts were pushed away. An image flashed in my head in black and white: the area around the station as seen from above. The detail was amazing.
Where did this come from?

I saw Night, down by the bell. A body lying across her—Gunny. Night's head on the grass, her face slightly turned toward me. Blood from her mouth traced a red tear down her cheek.

A voice in my head whispered, “She lives. The child is gone. Go! I will protect her! Go! Kill them all!”

Another image. A hundred yards from the diner, men deployed in an L-shaped defensive position, the trucks and vehicles they had come in forming the long side of their defenses. A dump truck pointing at me formed part of the short side of the
L
. From the back of the truck, behind the steel sides of the bed, several troops fired on the station.

Bodies lay scattered. Some behind the trucks, some lying in heaps in the open. From their clothes and the body types I knew those in the open were unlucky civilians.

 

I was past coherent responses. I moved far deeper into the killing zone than I had ever gone before.

I welcomed it. I wanted it. I screamed in joy and rage just to hear myself. I screamed so they would know I was coming. I wanted them to know. Just like I wanted to see their faces when I killed them.

I came out of the side street and saw the dump truck in front of me. Next to it was Miss Edna's Prius, miraculously undamaged. I leaped, landing on the hood of the Prius, and felt it crumple under my weight. I adjusted for it and leaped again, landing on the hood of the dump truck. Then again, up to the top of the cab. It was red. That was going to be the color of the day.

I looked down into the truck bed. Three shooters. I screamed and jumped into their midst. As I landed I went to my knees with the impact. They were turning toward me but they were slow. So very slow. I was not. They wore armor. Good armor. I could see where the ceramic plating protected them. I could also see where it did not.

As I came out of my crouch I pulled the K98 bayonet from its metal sheath. Sixteen inches of Solingen steel designed to be used just the way I was going to use it. I hit the man in front of me, turning him away from me, and drove the steel into his kidney. I yanked it out.

I screamed again and stepped forward. The second man had pivoted to face me. I drove the blade in low, jamming it into his abdomen, and then yanked it up.

The third man tried desperately to swing the barrel of his M-16 around to center on me. But the poor guy whose breakfast I had just spilled was blocking the barrel. The third shooter was too focused on his rifle. This was not a rifle fight, not in such close quarters. I hit him with a forearm to the face and drove the blade into his throat. As I pulled it out, I heard a voice in my head whisper, “Good.”

I looked across the street to where Night lay with Gunny's body draped over her. Freya and one of the teams of three were protecting her. They had formed a triangle with her in the center and Freya off to one side.

Behind me, Ninja and the other five had not progressed past the dump truck. One of ours was down—down hard, it looked. The others were returning fire like this was a freaking tennis match. You shoot. I shoot. Pause. That's right, it's my turn. Bang.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Freya raise her arms and scream. A wave of homicidal fury swept through me like a shot of the best dope ever known. I leaped out of the truck and ran toward my squad. I was beyond pissed.

“Get off your asses and MOVE! Kill them!” I roared.

I could hear the gunfire behind me increase, rounds passing me by, buzzing like angry bees. I walked to the
trooper closest to me and ripped the Raven patch off his uniform and tossed it in his face. He recoiled from me in obvious and total fear. Then I yelled “Move!” in his face.

Screw this
, I thought. I turned around and faced the assholes that were trying so hard to kill me. I slipped the bayonet back in its sheath and screamed, “Night!” Then I started walking toward the enemy. Fuck running.

I drew the Ruger and the Colt and started picking targets. I would shoot a couple, scream, “Night!” and kill a few more. “Fuck them.” I was laughing. “Die, motherfuckers, or run!”

I heard the burst of an M-16 behind me. Someone from my squad was back in the game.

I wasn't killing them fast enough.

Plus, I wanted to smell their blood. I wanted to see them twist. I didn't even bother to holster the Colt. I just let it drop and pulled out the bayonet. It slid easily out of the sheath. Blood made for good grease. Then I charged them. They broke. Some ran and were dropped.

The few remaining threw their weapons down and raised their hands in surrender. They thought it was over now for them. They were wrong.

It was Ninja who had been behind me. Diesel and Max were headed toward us. Max was limping.

“Ninja, search them. Give them medical care only after our people are taken care of. I need to see Night.”

“Sure thing, G.”

I started to walk away, stopped, and turned back to him. “Hey, Ninj.”

“Yeah?”

“Good work.”

People moved out of my way.
Scurried
would be a better description. I wasn't sure why. I also didn't give a damn. I could hear their comments as I headed toward Night.

“Did you see what he did? That was freaking amazing.” And, “Did you see his eyes? I ain't ever going to get him pissed at me.”

Maybe if they had moved, instead of sitting on their asses, they would be running their mouths about each other's exploits rather than mine
, I thought.

 

The three troopers protecting Night were still there. They saw me coming and moved back a couple of feet. Freya was on her knees next to her. She must have had them pull Gunny off as soon she saw the others break and surrender.

I knelt down near them. “How is she?”

“She is fine.” This didn't come from Freya.

“Night!”

“Hey, G,” she said weakly. “Some asshole hit me with a car door. It hurt.”

“I bet it did.” I brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Did you see who did it?”

“No. Is Donna coming?”

I didn't know for certain but I was sure she would be.

“Yeah. I'll make sure.”

“Good. Hey, G?”

“Yeah?”

“You think the baby is okay?” Her eyes were scared. I didn't like that. She was never scared. Ever.

“I don't know, honey. I really don't know.” I knew I should have said something reassuring to her but I never lied to her, mostly because she always knew as soon as I did.

Freya said softly, “I am a healer. Let me look after her until this person comes.”

“Night, Freya will take care of you for now. I got things to do for a little bit, then I will be back.” I bent down and kissed her gently. “Okay?”

She nodded her head and then whispered softly to me, “No mercy.”

“No mercy it shall be, then.”

“Alright, guys, move her into the station. She doesn't need to be gawked at.” I gave her hand a squeeze and told her, “I'll be back.” She nodded and shut her eyes.

I knew she was hurting. She wasn't going to be the only one.

I walked back to where my troopers held the ones who had survived by surrendering. Diesel had had them strip off anything of value and pile it in front of themselves. Then he lined them against the brick wall of what had been a travel agency. I thought that was funny in an ironic kind of way. Max was leaning against a car, watching.

“You okay, Max?”

“Yeah. Just a scratch. What about you? My guess is that's other people's blood you're wearing.”

I looked down. Red had definitely turned out to be the color of the day. “Yeah. I'm fine.”

“Night okay?” He asked this casually, but I also knew what he meant without saying it.

“Yeah and no. She lost it. Is Donna coming?”

“Shit. Sorry, G. Yeah, she's on her way.” He looked away for a couple seconds and then back to me.

“How do you want to handle this, Max?”

“I can't have people coming into my town and killing my people.” His voice was gray, cold, and flat. When Max
sounded like this, it meant someone was headed for a flat line. In many ways we were direct opposites. He was cold, and just got colder when the shit hit the fan.

He thought ahead, planned, and had that gift of being able to anticipate what would happen several moves ahead. He was also a mean, merciless son-of-a-bitch when he got rolling. People had seen me when I was on. I had seen Max. He was far more than what he had shown so far.

The difference, I was beginning to believe, was that I could shut mine down. Or maybe it just left me. When Max got rolling, it didn't shut off. It had to burn itself out. That was why he was reluctant to let loose the beast.

He asked, “You know who hurt Night?”

“No. I plan to find out.”

“Fine. Leave one alive for me to question. If they are local, we ride.”

I walked over to where Diesel had them standing. “Hello, gentlemen. We seem to have a problem.”

No one spoke. I looked at them. Starting on my left, I looked each one in the eyes. One returned it with defiance; the other two, with apprehension and fear.

I started with the defiant one. “Who hurt the woman by the bell?”

“What woman?”

“Wrong answer.” I shot him. I looked at the next one. “Who hurt the woman by the bell?”

“Jesus man! Are you fucking crazy?”

I shot him. I looked at the remaining guy. He had pissed his pants. “Strike two. Are all the men raised to be stupid where you come from?”

He shook his head. “Please, mister—”

“Hopefully you've figured out how this works by now. I doubt it, but I can dream. Where are you from?”

“Meadow Mills. Please, mister, I got family and—”

“Shut up.”

He started nodding his head yes and wouldn't stop.

“Quit nodding your head,” I told him. “It's making me dizzy.”

He nodded his head to that, realized what he was doing, and stopped.

“Thank you. So, who hurt the woman by the bell?”

“It wasn't me! I swear! It was Danny. We were pulling in, going too damn fast. That little gook was yelling at us, and Danny headed for her. She jumped out of the way. He threw open the car door and hit her with it. It wasn't me!” He wailed the last part more like a child than a man.

I smiled at him. “Not bad. Which one is Danny?”

He pointed to one of the bodies by the car. “That's him. Please, mister.”

“Shut up. Listen, you did pretty good. What's your name?”

“Jimmy.”

I saw the flicker of hope in his eyes. “Only one problem, Jimmy. You called my woman a gook.” His eyes widened, the flicker of hope disappeared as quickly as the bullet I sent into his head.

I walked over to where Danny's body lay. He had not been wearing a helmet, which had made it easier for me when I shot him earlier. It would also make it easier for what I was going to do next.

I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him away from the car. The bayonet was sticky now. I had to reach back and hold the sheath in order to pull it out. Then I bent
over and cut Danny's head off. It was a little messy. I heard someone vomit. I didn't look to see who it was. I was glad Danny had long hair. It gave me a better handle.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Max limped over to me as I finished. “Well, I guess you decided to kill them all and let God sort it out.” He laughed. “At least you got the name of the town. No surprise there.”