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Authors: Bobby Akart

Martial Law (24 page)

BOOK: Martial Law
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“Yeah, we just want to play,” said the other.

Steven worked his way along the wall behind the offices. Katie was right behind him, constantly looking forward and then back, to ensure no one caught them off guard.

“Come on, girlfriend. We’ll have a good time. You know you want some of this!” The men continued to taunt the woman while allowing Steven and Katie to draw a bead on their voices.

Steven found the conveyer belt that was the source of the earlier noise and decided to follow it into the center of the building. The FedEx panel trucks obscured any light emitting from the exterior doors. He moved quietly to the tailgate of each truck as they followed the presumed path of the two men.

“Maybe she went through the other doors, man,” said one of the men, his voice up ahead of Steven and Katie’s position.

“No, dude, I saw those doors swingin’. She’s in here somewhere and I ain’t leavin’ ’til I get me some.”

Steven was almost upon them when some boxes fell behind him. The men suddenly turned and ran through the darkness, crashing Steven into the wheels of a truck.

“Mutherfucker!” screamed one of the men as he jumped on Steven and started swinging at his face. The other man jumped to his feet just in time to be killed by Katie with two shots to the chest. The woman’s shriek from their left provided the distraction Steven needed to roll the heavier man off of him. Before he could pull his backup weapon, Katie put two rounds in the remaining man’s chest. They were both dead.

Steven groaned. In the darkness, Katie leaned down to see if he was hurt. She could feel the blood seeping into his shirt.

“Are you okay?” asked Katie.

“Yeah. The bastard was heavy. He ran over me like he didn’t know I was standing there.”

“Can you stand?”

Steven lifted himself up, but his knees gave way as he fell against the conveyor.

“Stay here,” said Katie. She turned her attention to the woman with the hope of getting Steven help. “Hello, ma’am, my name is Katie O’Shea. Are you okay?”

Silence. Katie tried again.

“Ma’am, we’re not here to hurt you. We just wanted to protect you from those men. Could you please let me know you’re okay so I can take my friend outside and get him some help? He’s badly hurt.”

After a moment of brief silence, she replied, “I’m okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Do you have a flashlight? It’s dark, and I need to get some medical supplies for Steven.”

“Hold on.” A door to one of the trucks opened and a light faintly illuminated an area near the office entrance. Then headlights from the vehicle turned on, making it much brighter. One by one, the woman walked down the row of FedEx vans waiting to be filled with packages and turned on their headlights. In just a few moments, it was bright as day inside.

She peered around the last van and looked at Steven and then Katie.

“Was he shot?”

“Yes, but not here. I have to get my bag from the truck. It was crashed by another man that I assume was with these two.” Katie kicked the legs of the dead men. The girl put her hands to her mouth and began to cry.

“They were going to rape me,” she sobbed. She sat on the sidestep of a truck.

“Not anymore,” said Katie. “What’s your name?”

“Valerie.”

“Valerie, will you stay here with Steven while I get my medical supplies?” Steven’s leg began to buckle, and he landed on the floor with his back to the conveyor.

“Yes.”

Katie turned to Steven and checked his eyes and pulse. “Keep him awake.”

 

Chapter 47

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

10:51 a.m.

Boston, MA

 

“I vote the bigger, the better,” said Steven as he surveyed the FedEx fleet. His body had suffered a lot of trauma in the last forty-eight hours, but he was clearly rejuvenated by the night’s rest. At this pace, he wondered if they would ever make it to Boston—in one piece.

Valerie, the young FedEx employee, had been waiting for her boyfriend to return. He was a FedEx supervisor, and they were the only two employees working at the facility on Saturday night when the power went off. He was going home to grab his guns and some supplies for the trip into Auburndale and her parents’ home. She dutifully waited for three days and, out of boredom, left the confines of the FedEx facility to look around. That was when her troubles began.

“I agree,” said Katie. “That crappy Range Rover got pushed around by a Beemer—
literally
.”

Steven stopped in front of a twenty-four-foot panel truck. “How about this one?” he asked. “It’s as big as a U-Haul.”

“I don’t care,” replied Valerie. “I quit as of yesterday. I’ll probably never see my last check.”

Steven stifled a laugh and then realized the girl was serious. All she could think about was her last paycheck. There were two crashed cars and four dead bodies lying around and nobody gave a damn. Day four after the collapse and nobody was surprised at the carnage he and Katie left behind.
Imagine what Day 44 will be like
.

“Come on, guys, let’s go,” said Katie. “Valerie, will you be able to drive this thing after you drop us off?”

“Oh no, you can have it,” she replied. “Just drop me off in Auburndale near Woodland Road overpass. My parents live right down the street. I can easily walk from there.”

“Let’s roll, then,” said Steven.

The trio made their way onto the Massachusetts Turnpike and into the city without incident. They dropped off Valerie as requested and exchanged hugs. Steven sensed that the young girl was grateful for her rescue, but still hadn’t grasped the magnitude of the mess her country was in. He hesitated to leave her on the side of the turnpike, but she appeared to feel safe in familiar surroundings.
As did he
.

“Do we take the turnpike all the way into downtown and double back?” asked Katie.

“I say we get off sooner, before Prudential Center,” replied Steven. “I don’t want to go through the tunnel, and I’d like to avoid the toll booth at Storrow.”

“That’s understandable, but we have to go through a toll somewhere.”

“Let’s just do it here in Newton,” said Steven. “I can catch Commonwealth and drive this big boy right up to Sarge’s front door.”

As they drove through Boston University and into Back Bay West, visual evidence of looting and collapse became more prevalent. Stalled cars were the norm, parked in all directions when they had run out of fuel. Storefront windows were broken more often than not. Even the historic Harvard Club was not immune, as smoke billowed out of its upper windows.

“What will be left of Boston when, or if, this ends?” asked Katie. Steven attempted to turn down Berkeley Street, but the road was blocked. He would have to go up to Boston Common and loop through.

“Sadly, I haven’t thought about it. It’s all about survival right now. I’ve already had my share of excitement.”

He steered the truck out of Boston Common and westbound on Beacon. He encountered two stalled vehicles that created a tight squeeze as they drove through. Steven rose up in his seat to look at the abandoned cars on the sidewalk and in the turn lane. People were running and screaming near the entrance of 100 Beacon. He pulled to a stop in the crosswalk.

The sounds of gunshots reverberated off the buildings.

“Steven, they’re shooting in front of our building!”

He inched the FedEx truck closer. “Looks like four to six hostiles behind those parked cars, shooting toward the entrance,” said Steven.

“Is anybody returning fire?” asked Katie.

“I can’t tell,” he replied. “We’ve gotta do something.”

“How many rounds do you have left?”

“A full mag in each. You?”

“Same here. I emptied the last of my backup mag in that fat ass who tackled you,” said Katie.

Steven sat there for a moment as the gunfight continued.

“Why waste bullets when you have a tank?” Steven hit the gas and roared down Beacon Street. The attackers didn’t notice him until the FedEx truck was on top of their position. Only the last two managed to jump over the vehicles out of harm’s way. The other three were not quick enough as the front of the truck ran over them one by one—crushing them under the weight of the twin rear axles.

Steven screeched to a halt. Both he and Katie piled out of the driver’s side door, keeping the truck between them and the surviving attackers. The two remaining shooters were caught in the crossfire. A rifle peeked out of the front entrance to the building and fired wildly in their direction, managing to shoot holes in the FedEx truck. Steven reflexively dove behind the wheel wells. Katie waited a moment for the gunfire to subside and then quickly joined him.

They crouched behind the wheels while several more shots flew in their direction.

“I know that isn’t Sarge shooting from the building. That’s pathetic.”

“No doubt. What’s the plan?” asked Katie.

“You take the back side, and I’ll take the front of the truck. My first shot will be your signal to join in. I’m worried less about the two hostiles than I am the dumbass behind the front door. That fuck might get lucky and shoot one of us.”

“Got it. But you’re bleeding again.”

“Yeah, I hit my shoulder diving for cover. Maybe I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“Nah. You love it. And I love you. Let’s not get killed when we’re thirty feet from the house, okay?”

“Yeah, ready?”

Steven ran towards the front of the truck and gave Katie a moment to get in position. The shooters were hunched together between an SUV and a Mercedes. Katie would not have a clear shot because of the SUV. Steven walked in a crouch along the side of the FedEx truck. He couldn’t get too close to the shooters because Katie might open fire and shoot him by mistake.

He knew they were scared. He played on their apprehension. Once in position, he rose up with his gun trained on their location.

“Pssst, hey!” The two men instinctively stood to see who was summoning them, and each received a shot to the chest. Steven shouted, “Hold your fire,” as he ran forward and put a round in each of their heads.

Katie moved to join him with her weapon drawn.

“Just like
Duck Hunt
on Nintendo. Their heads popped up and down they went.”

“Great job, thanks for waiting for me.”

“The SUV blocked your line of fire. It was the best—” Suddenly a bullet flew over their head and impacted in the truck. Steven and Katie hit the pavement and crawled behind the SUV.

“Hostiles?” whispered Katie.

“No, it’s the dumbass behind door number one.” Steven rose and walked to the back of the bullet-ridden SUV.

“Hey, be careful!” exclaimed Katie.

“Fuck this,” said Steven. “I could walk right up the sidewalk and that dumbass couldn’t hit me!”

“Wait for me.” Katie ran up behind him. Steven walked into the open with his hands up.

“Hey, dumbass!” he shouted at the entrance. “We just saved your collective asses. How about not shooting us as your way of saying thanks?”

“I don’t know you,” shouted someone from behind the door. Steven saw movement in the windows to the left of the gate. He passed through the iron gates.

“I’m here to see my brother on the top floor. His name is Sargent. Now lower your weapons so nobody gets hurt. Fair enough?”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” said an older man’s voice from inside the lobby.

Steven was losing his patience. “Because there are five dead bodies out here and none of them have your name on it.”

After a moment, Steven was told to come inside. Katie walked in but with her hands on her weapon.

The man inside the building used the barrel of the rifle to wave Steven inside, which was a mistake. The moment the barrel moved away from his body, Steven grabbed it from the man with his left hand and kicked his legs out from under him. Katie immediately covered the rest of the room.

“Hey, what did you do that for?” asked the man as he sat up against the wall.

“Because you shot at me, dumbass.” Steven emptied the ammunition from the M1 onto the marble floor with a clink. Then he removed the magazine before handing the vintage gun back to the man on the floor. “Nice gun, though. It’s older than me.”

“Do you know why those men were attacking you?” asked Katie. An elderly woman came into the lobby from the stairwell and Katie wheeled to cover her.

“They were upset with the man on the top floor.”

“Did the men say why?” asked Steven.

“No,” replied the man on the floor. “They were furious. They just cursed at us and started shooting because we wouldn’t open the door.”

“Let’s go,” said Steven. “You people are going to have to learn to defend yourselves better. You can’t stick your gun around the door like those fools in the Middle East and hope to hit anything.” Steven led Katie up the stairwell. Halfway up the stairs he had to catch his breath. He looked down and saw that he was leaving a trail of blood.

“You need some stitches.”

“I do, and beer too.” Steven laughed, but it hurt his shoulder too much.

Katie went ahead to open the door and found Sarge and Julia waiting. Julia immediately hugged her, and Katie began to cry. Sarge pushed his way onto the landing.

“Katie, where’s Steven? Where’s my brother?”

Steven rounded the stairs, his shirt covered in blood.

“Did you miss me?”

 

PART FOUR
Bug Out

 

Chapter 48

Saturday, September 3, 2016

9:11 p.m.

Triple Q Ranch, Prescott Peninsula

Quabbin Reservoir, Massachusetts

 

The Quinns, J.J. and Sabs settled back into their chairs—relaxed after a fun evening of burgers and beer. The conversation, as it so often did, centered on prepping and the threats America faced. The two couples were not into the arts or the latest news from Hollywood. The home opener for the New England Patriots wasn’t even a passing thought. They enjoyed their family, the Quinn girls, and their friends. Overall, they shared an interest in preparedness.

BOOK: Martial Law
7.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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