The Last Gallon (14 page)

The convoy fought through the night, clearing barricades, fighting off hordes, pushing them back until the next barricade and starting it all over again.
During one particularly rough battle the ground shook and a mushroom cloud like fireball rose into the sky. “Shit!” Mark exclaimed, a fuel truck had been destroyed likely taking many of the mutants and Vincent’s men with it. The final 6 miles of the city took the entire night and the sun was rising over the horizon when the family caught their first glimpses of the muddy Mississippi River. It was the most beautiful thing they had seen in a long time.

A ramshackle bridge had been constructed to allow passage through the city for anyone brave enough to try it and the family happily tested the limits of its capacity when they rolled over it right behind the heavy Bradley. Falling into the dirty river would be like a weekend at an expensive spa after the horrors of the city.

Much of the country side on the other side of Memphis had been scorched by the fire-storm but none of the bombs had impacted on the Arkansas side. The transition from city to farmland was amazing but in the post-nuclear Memphis landscape it was more like escaping the city to a stark desert for a few miles.

When they finally entered land that had green grass and trees growing the convoy circled up to take inventory and a head count. Vincent was nearly in tears when he heard the total. One tanker and one deuce and a half had been lost along with all their crew. Another 5 men had been killed and another 30 injured in some way or another. All in all the city of Memphis cost 2 vehicles, 25 lives, and took at least 15 of the 30 wounded out of the fight completely.

The ammo count was much worse. The Bradley’s were down to about 50 chain gun rounds each and had 1 TOW missile apiece. Small arms were down to around 50 rounds per man. The family wasn’t in much better condition. They had about 250 rounds of .223, 75 rounds of 22TCM, 8 shotgun shells, and 45 grenades left. They still had a variety of pistol ammo and would be keeping it close by if they ran out of rifle ammo which would be very likely if they got into another fire-fight.

“We better fight smart from here on out” Vincent warned Mark who wholly agreed. “You also better hope your promised land has some ammo!” Mark smiled, “What promise land would be complete without a stock pile?” he asked while nervously hoping Vincent was right.

After a well deserved nap outside the perimeter of destruction around Memphis the convoy got on the road. It was a very sombre stop because everyone knew about the losses and the dire ammunition situation. Vincent didn’t even bring up their gas crisis. He stayed awake while others slept trying to run the math and he could not get the convoy to the cache. He hoped they would find some fuel in the few towns they would pass through.

They moved along at their usual pace. This area of the country was relatively free and suffered no direct control. The biggest problem was they were not united and could be pushed around by anyone with power and a desire to be an asshole. Unfortunately both were in abundance in America at this time and the good people of the free-lands were always being worked over.

The good thing about the free-lands is there were no real organized gangs or resistance like they had encountered everywhere else on their journey. This made the going relatively easy. This also gave Vincent plenty of time to give himself an ulcer trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

The idle chit-chat over the radio was minimal as well; it made for a dreary ride which was sad because they were traveling through one of the least affected areas any of them had seen yet. For a group so close to their goal the fatigue of the last few days and the seemingly insurmountable obstacles they were facing just grinded everyone’s gears to a screeching halt.

At 40mph they would be in Jonesboro in just under 2 hours. They hoped the size of the town would help them resupply a bit, even if it was just enough to get into a fight that lasted more than five minutes. The miles ticked by slowly and everyone expected an ambush out of nowhere, it was just the way of the world they were used to.

No such attack came, in fact the journey turned out to be quite pleasant once everyone got out of their funk. Gradually the chatter increased and by the time the signs showed Jonesboro less than 20 miles away there were multiple “I spy” games going on between the convoy members.

The convoy got off the highway and headed towards the Jonesboro airport. Vincent had finally come clean and told Mark that they were about tapped out. He hoped the airport would have some diesel or
av-gas that could be used.

A few of the vehicles barely made it to the airport. A couple Bradleys and the H2s were
sputtering and spitting as they struggled to breathe without fuel. The convoy circled up in their normal defensive posture. Vincent didn’t care if it was a friendly city; he would rather hurt feelings than lose lives.

Vincent and Mark met up and proceeded to the hangar area to see if they could find someone. There was little chance the airport was still operational since there were so few pilots but there might be a slim chance that their tanks were not empty. Hell, even if some auxiliary equipment had a couple gallons here or there they could get a couple vehicles running. At this point if he could get the remaining troop transports going he would load everyone up and destroy the rest of the gear.

The two men entered the maintenance hangar and called out “HELLO” looking for someone they could talk to. The building appeared to still be used but there didn’t seem to be anyone around. They continued down the row of hangars when they finally ran into someone in the forth hangar down.

An older gentleman was sweeping the floor when Vincent and Mark startled him. He was probably in his late 60s but he whirled around and had his Uzi at the ready in a flash. “
Woah buddy, we mean you no harm” Vincent said while holding his hands out, well away from his own weapon. The old man smiled and let the Uzi back down to his waist. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

Vincent explained their fuel situation and the man listened and nodded his head or shook it along with the story. When Vincent was finished the man took the chance to respond. “Well, we don’t have a drop right now but there is supposed to be a truck coming in tomorrow. I can’t offer you all of it even if you have the money; it’s not fair to the hard working people here. I can get you enough to get you and your people safely to your destination though.” Vincent smiled and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you sir, do you know where we might get some ammunition?” he asked. The man nodded again and told them of a National Guard depot
not far away who might barter.

Vincent and Mark walked back to the convoy and got in the Armadillo to check out the National Guard base. Kara and the kids stayed with the rest of the convoy and helped prepare the camp.

Mark turned to Vincent with a serious look; Vincent feared he knew what Mark was going to tell him right away. “You’re going on aren’t you?” Vincent asked, pre-empting Mark’s speech. Mark nodded. “Damnit Mark, I thought we were partners” Vincent said angrily. Mark responded back with equal hostility “We are Vincent. What if everything we need to get you back in order is in the cache?” he asked. “What if there is enough firepower in there to pull us out of any shit storm we get into. We can’t sit here and hope we make it; we need to get up there and secure it before the cartel and the company send their goons to come and get it.”

Vincent knew Mark was right but he was still slightly afraid of being betrayed. Mark turned to him and put his hand on Vincent’s shoulder. “I’m not
gonna fuck you dude. I promise. I want to see your brother again so I can repay him for his actions. I want to repay you and your men for the sacrifices they have made. We’re going to do this; we are too close to let it slip away.” Vincent smiled and patted Mark’s hand. “Ok, let’s not get gay over it” he joked.

The two pulled into the National Guard
Armory which seemed to be abuzz with activity. They walked in and saw why right away, the place was set up like a gun show. Guardsmen and townfolk were selling their wares and trading for other guns, food, farming implements or whatever the seller needed at that moment. The two men grinned at each other like two kids that found a candy stash at Grandma’s.

Vincent began making a shopping list. He needed chain gun ammo, 5.56, 7.62, and various pistol calibres. Mark needed 5.56
, shotgun shells, and some 22TCM if he could find some and he found part what he was looking for pretty quick. A 12 year old girl was running the table that had the ammo he needed. She had a large variety of standard FMJ ammo, M855 penetrator, M193, some boattail hollow points and even some Gold-Dot hollow points. “How much for 500 Gold-Dots?” Mark asked her. She looked at him and gestured to look at his money. He showed her his last vial of gold dust. “That will do” she answered. It was about 3x the price it should have been so Mark offered a third of the dust. The young girl shook her head and replied “Half or fuck off, I’m the only one with Gold-Dots.” Mark stuck out his hand to seal the deal and she slapped him a hi-five.

Mark met up with Vincent a few minutes later; he seemed to be in an intense discussion with one of the Guardsmen. When he got close enough to hear them speak he realized Vincent was bartering away vehicles for munitions. “I can’t do 4, I can do 1 and that is it” Vincent said. “I’ll give you half for two” the guy replied. Vincent countered with “half for one and that’s it, it’s my final offer” and began to turn away. “Ok, Ok” the man said. “You’ve got a deal.” The men shook hands and Vincent told him to meet him out front in an hour.

As they walked away Mark asked what he had bartered. “Enough to resupply us for 2 days for one Bradley” he answered. “Not a bad deal” Mark said as he patted the expert negotiator on the back. “Whatcha got there?” Vincent asked about the box Mark was lugging around. “500 rounds of Gold-Dots” Mark answered. “I also found a couple boxes of TCM and 25 slugs” he told his buddy. Vincent smiled and nodded. “Good deal, looks like we got ourselves re-armed” he said proudly.

The family reloaded their magazines while the convoy re-armed their vehicles. Vincent had lost a good portion of their offensive punc
h by giving away a Bradley but 4 unarmed Bradleys are much less deadly than 3 that are fully loaded.

Mark and the family hugged and said goodbye to all the soldiers they had befriended throughout their short relationship with them. They all said they would see each other very soon and Mark was certain that would be the case. When they finally got to Vincent he pulled him aside “First thing when that truck comes, get your gas and get the hell out of here” Mark
told him. “We are fairly certain our not arriving in Atlanta has alerted them to our defection. You guys absolutely must get on the road ASAP.”

Vincent knew he was right and was already stressed out about it. It was going to be a long day to wait out already and with the threat of the cartel coming in just made things even worse. Mark reminded him that it was all speculation, maybe they wouldn’t even see them and they would all
just cruise right to the cache tomorrow. Vincent knew the possibility of that was about zero. The men hugged and the rest of the family took their turns afterwards. When they were all done saying goodbye the family loaded into the Armadillo and silently rolled out of camp.

“Take care of yourselves! You’re no good to us dead!” Vincent called out. The family waved through the gun ports and accelerated out of sight quickly. “Hope to see you tomorrow” Vincent said softly while hanging his head.

A 14 year old boy in camouflage hiding in the tree-line just south of the runway put his binoculars down and turned to his partner. “Let’s get back and tell El Jefe” he said with a thick Mexican accent. The other boy just nodded and kicked the beat up motorcycle to life. The younger spy jumped in the sidecar as the other boy was already pulling off.

Three hours later the two boys cleared the last checkpoint and were at the doors to the Governor’s mansion. A man in uniform informed them “El Jefe will see you now” as he opened the gate to let them in.

El
Jefe sat at a large teak desk in an enormous room. He had two potted palms beside him and some elaborate furniture to show off his elite status. He was one of 6 territorial bosses for the Zeta territory which spanned from parts of Texas all the way to Key West. Little Rock was the north most city in this area and the kick off point for many raids into the free zones.

The boys stood trembling before the man’s power. He smiled and motioned for them to sit, which they did without hesitation. “What do you know?” he asked the older one. The younger one piped up first “El
Jefe we found a convoy, 17 trucks and lots of people!” he announced. The older boy punched his arm for speaking out of turn. “What of the car?” El Jefe asked. The boys informed him that they had not seen the car but they were certain it was there as it had been spotted in town.

El
Jefe laced his fingers together and said “Excellent” and then pointed towards a door that led into his mansion, “Go, and get some coke and beeches.” The boys could barely contain their excitement and ran through the door as quickly as possible. The man laughed and knew he would have good servants for a long time with those two.

El
Jefe got on the phone with the area commandant. “I want 400 men to Jonesboro, hit them at sunrise” he told the man. The commandant answered in the affirmative and began preparing for the mission.

At around 2am the raiding party was ready. The group didn’t have any heavy vehicles; they were all lightly
armored Chrysler 300s. The plan was to hit hard and hit fast. The gang had fully automatic M-16s, AK-47s and a few light machine guns. They also had 4 RPG-7s with a dozen rockets.

The commandant had his men gathered up for his speech. “Today, at dawn you will attack and destroy a party of traitors. They have stolen a great deal from you. They need to be wiped off this earth. The city is 132mi away, if we get on the road now we will have time to rape and pillage Newport!” The men cheered and immediately began piling into their vehicles.

The raiders made the 90 mile drive to Newport in record time. Something about the freedom to rape and murder as they saw fit just worked them into a drug-crazed frenzy. It was close to 4am and they had roughly an hour to do as they pleased before getting back on the road.

One of the cars used an RPG to gain access to a gated community. Several other cars joined the mix and the raiders went house to house until the entire
neighborhood had been thoroughly raped and killed. Ten houses down the members of car 4 and 12 got a nasty surprise.

Helen had awoke to the sound of gunfire and discreetly got out of bed, grabbed her
Noveske AR-15 and laid back in bed with it by her side, cocked and ready to rock. When the raiders kicked her door in 15 minutes later she sat up in bed and fed them lead until they stopped trying to get in. She quickly reloaded and climbed over the bodies in her doorway to make sure her daughter was ok.

Meghan had hid in the closet when she heard the door smash and Helen feared she had been taken for a moment. A quick call of her name let her know that she was ok and hiding like she had been told. Helen pulled Meghan to her feet and told her to grab one of the men’s weapons.

The two women used the dead gangsters as sandbags and waited for the next party to come through. Random bouts of gun-fire would erupt and then quickly die down as residents tried to defend their homes against the criminals. After about 35 minutes the girls heard horns blowing and the night got silent after the sound of the engines faded into the night.

Helen gathered up all the gangster’s weapons, ammo and any money they might have had on their persons and called the local Sheriff. She went and put some clothes on and instructed Meghan to do the same and waited in the living room for someone to come clean up the mess she had made.
Helen lit up a cigarette, looked at Meghan and sighed “We gotta get the hell out of here” she said. Meghan nodded in agreement.

Seventy-one
cars rocketed towards Jonesboro as the morning sun started to peek over the horizon behind them. 15 men had been killed and another 30 wounded and left behind during the raid. Nevertheless it was deemed a success; the men had claimed 40 lives, raped 50 women and abducted another 15 for El Jefe’s use later. They also acquired random jewellery and gold off the corpses they left behind.