The Redemption Trilogy

by A. J. Sikes

  Sergeant G and Mahton were on the ground in a flash. They double checked the gate while Jed and Reeve kept watch over the area. Jed swept his muzzle from the door of the stronghold and back to the breezeway while Reeve watched the roof and other high ground for movement. Most of the buildings around the stronghold were no more than skeletons, but they still had plenty of places to hide.

  A truck motor roared from somewhere in the ruins. Jed couldn’t place it, and he prayed it wasn’t a sign that Tucker was on his way home.

  Please don’t come back. Please don’t come back.

  If Tucker showed up before they’d secured the interior—

  Sergeant G and Mahton dashed across the lot, moving past the white truck to the steps leading inside. They climbed the steps and breached the door. Mahton threw in the flash-bang and it clapped loud in the silent city, sending a ball of smoke out the stronghold door. Sergeant G and Mahton darted inside, with weapons up and at the ready.

  A second later Reeve was on the ground and racing forward.

  “What are you—?” Jed called after Reeve. They were supposed to stay put and keep an eye on the lot until Sergeant G gave the word.

  Reeve roved the lot, quickly poking into every dark corner. Finally, he circled the white truck and signaled back to Jed that the lot was clear. Jed stayed put, still waiting on Sergeant G’s command. Reeve posted at the tailgate of the truck.

  Jed scanned and listened, willing the sound of a truck motor to stay distant. It rumbled somewhere out in the ruins, but even in the empty quiet of the city, he couldn’t place which direction the sound was coming from.

  Just stay away. Stay gone long enough for us to do this. And then come back home and get what you deserve.

  Small-arms fire rattled from inside the stronghold and Jed snapped his attention back to the door. Reeve was already moving, running toward the steps.

  A hiss and shriek from behind spun Jed around. He flopped over on his back and sent a burst into the sucker face that was crawling up the debris pile to his position. It flailed and fell to the ground. Two more hung onto the ruins of the apartment block that loomed above him. Their mouths popped open, dripping with saliva, and their sickly pale flesh glowed in the early morning light. They sprang forward as Jed fired.

  The suckers landed in the loose debris and scrambled to get a foothold. Jed fired at them, but they raced in opposite directions. He focused on one and sent a burst into its chest. The other was on him a second later. It tried to get its mouth onto his arm, but he got the hot muzzle of the SAW against its cheek. The monster reeled away only to whip its head around and under Jed’s guard. It slashed at his vest, ripping at the material. Its claws snagged and jerked, making Jed’s ribs ache as it thrashed him from side to side. Jed screamed at it and wrestled against its hands, twisting his torso and slamming the muzzle of his weapon into its face.

  A rifle cracked loud behind him. Blood spattered across his chest and the monster went limp.

  Jed felt an arm slip under his, gabbing onto his vest and tugging him out from under the dead thing. Ringing in Jed’s ears muffled Reeve’s voice as he shouted “Tell me you’re good, Welch! Tell me you’re good!”

  “I’m good, man! I’m good!” Jed hollered and struggled out of Reeve’s grip to a kneeling position. He scanned the area with the SAW up and ready. No more sucker faces were crawling toward them or lurking in the jagged ruins waiting to leap. At least none that he could see. It was quiet inside the stronghold. Jed sent a look at Reeve and gave him what he’d been holding in ever since they met.

  “What the fuck, Reeve? I could’ve been a plate of fucking hamburger helper. Thanks for coming back to save my ass, but why the fuck did you take off like that? Sergeant G didn’t give the word, did she?”

  Reeve may have outranked him, but he was still just a PFC, and Jed was done with the guy and his shit anyway. Even if Reeve had NCO rank, it only mattered so much when the world was at an end. If you were just going to wear the rank and not live it…

  Reeve still had a hand on Jed’s shoulder. He dropped his eyes for a beat. When he looked back up, Jed saw the man was holding himself back. He had a war to wage, and Jed was getting in the way. “Let’s get inside, Welch.”

  Jed shrugged off Reeve’s hand and moved up to where he’d been before. The parking lot was empty and the stronghold door stood open like the mouth of a grave. Reeve told Jed to monitor the lot and said that he’d keep an eye on their six.

  After a few minutes of not much changing, Jed finally broke the ice between them. “What do you think’s going on? Are they still in there?”

  “Yeah. They should be. Just keep an eye out. I’ma try the radio.”

  Jed caught the note of fear in Reeve’s voice as he took a breath and thumbed his mic. “Golf-Mike, Romeo-Whiskey. Come in.”

  A beat passed and Jed knew they were done. Whoever was inside, they’d taken out Sergeant G and Mahton, and now they knew another team was out here. Like it was on cue, Tucker’s truck engine rumbled through the empty city, and even though he couldn’t place it, Jed knew it was closer than the last time he’d heard the heavy motor.

  He’s coming back. Sonofabitch!

  Jed nearly sent a burst into the parking lot when his radio crackled with Mahton’s voice. “Whiskey-Romeo, go ahead.”

  Reeve replied first. “Hostile contacts our side. Three suckers. Shitbirds may be incoming. You good?”

  “Affirmative. Actual says Charlie-Mike. Cover our six from inside.”

  “Good copy. We’re moving.”

  Reeve slapped a hand onto Jed’s shoulder.

  “Got a job to do, Welch. Let’s go do it.”

  “Rah. No time to give each other a handy. But you’re going first once the mission’s done.”

  Reeve spit his tobacco into the dust beside Jed’s elbow. It just missed him.

  “We’ll get right when we’ve got time to get right. And I don’t do handjobs unless they’re reach arounds.”

  “Guess that means I’m point man,” Jed said with a grin.

  “See, you know what’s up,” Reeve said and jerked his chin up, signaling Jed to move out.

  He scrambled over the top of the debris pile, scanning left and right, up and down, always expecting another monster to leap at him in his peripheral. But he felt Reeve at his back and knew the other man was scoping the area as they moved. If anything came their way, one of them would see it before it got too close.

  They reached the parking lot, dodged around the white truck, and moved fast to the steps. The growl of Tucker’s truck sounded closer now. He had to be coming down Lexington, which meant he’d be at the breezeway in under a minute.

  At the door, Reeve tapped Jed on the shoulder and they switched places. The SAW weighed heavy in Jed’s arms as he took over monitoring their six. He swept the muzzle side to side and tried to focus on the shadows.

  That’s where you’re hiding. I know it.

  His vision blurred and he shook himself to stay alert. The shock of having the sucker on top of him only now settled in. His muscles twitched with fatigue and he nearly stumbled as he edged backwards into the doorway behind Reeve.

  Reeve stayed with him for a beat and then moved out fast through the stronghold. The room they’d entered was a narrow space. A blast mark on the floor showed where Mahton’s flash-bang had landed. Across the room an old microwave filled a countertop near a sink. It was like a smaller version of the day room back in Meg’s fire station. For a split second Jed expected to see her coming around the corner. Then he remembered the last time he’d heard her voice, screaming at him for help from the sewers. He nearly fell over on his ass with guilt.

  Tucker’s truck rumbled outside on the street, pulling Jed out of his pain. The engine revved once and then idled.

  A radio crackled from a loudspeaker somewhere inside the building.

  ***

  Gallegos and Mahton squared up in front of the prisoners. They’d found the group inside the fire station ba
ys, all tied up on cots, except for a couple that sat alone against the wall. They’d been just inside when she and Mahton burst in after the flash-bang went off and were still pissed off about having the grenade thrown in so close to them. Gallegos didn’t tell them it could have been worse.

  No sense letting them know we have a frag. Not unless they make us use it.

  The couple looked like husband and wife, and could have been people Tucker was going to give to the sucker faces. But she didn’t get a clean vibe from them. Something about their eyes, and that neither of them were tied up when they’d come in.

  The guy had one arm in a sling, and Gallegos just realized she couldn’t see where his other hand was.

  “Move your hand out in the open,” she said. He stared her down and didn’t move either arm. She wanted to call Reeve and Welch in, but if Tucker was coming back, she needed them at her six.

  The guy with the sling shifted his weight from side to side.

  “Why don’t you just leave?” he said, earning him a look of death from both her and Mahton.

  “You don’t give the orders. You don’t do or say shit unless I give the word. Clear?”

  “You sound just like your partner. Fine.”

  “Partner?” She was ready to pop the guy, and maybe the woman, too.

  But she’s covered in bandages. And the others are tied up. Who’s the threat here? Shit!

  Mahton had already sprayed a couple bursts over their heads to get them to sit down and shut up. His face was twisted with anger, like he might do it again and might aim lower this time. The people on the cots stayed still and silent, but she knew they couldn’t be with Tucker’s crew. They all wore dark blue uniforms except for one young man in dirty scrubs. They were nurses and firefighters.

  They can’t be collabs. Unless they’re the team from the second truck and they’re playing possum.

  Before she could ask who was who, the crackle of a radio broke the tense air in the open bay.

  “Homebase, this is Truck Daddy. Where the hell are you?!”

  Despite the ache in her chest and arms from holding her M4 up, Gallegos nearly doubled over with laughter at what Reeve said in reply. His voice echoed through the stronghold and into the bay.

  “Truck Daddy—are you for real with that call sign? That’s ate up like a damn football bat. Anyway, this here is Bag o’ Dicks. How about you open wide? Over.”

  Tucker came back with a string of curses. He went on for a solid minute just letting loose, and he didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Some of it even had Gallegos wincing in disgust. Then an engine roared outside and the screech of metal on stone threatened to bring their operation to a fast and bloody end. She grabbed her mic.

  “Romeo-Whiskey, on me, now!”

  ***

  Jed wished he could get a line of sight on his people, but he had to watch the breezeway. Tucker was out there, and Jed was the only line of defense they had against him.

  A voice cracked over a radio channel inside the stronghold. It was Tucker. It had to be. Nobody else could be Truck Daddy.

  Nobody but that douche.

  Jed held in a chuckle, but couldn’t help barking out a laugh when he heard Reeve’s reply. Seconds later, the roar of a revving truck engine filled the parking lot and a crashing and squealing of metal on stone split the stillness outside. Sergeant G’s voice hollered at him over the radio.

  The gate flew forward and the tailgate of Tucker’s black truck shot through the breezeway. Jed lit it up with a burst. The truck shuddered then flew forward, bouncing over a speed bump in the breezeway and out to the street. Jed sent another burst at them, peppering the fender and truck bed.

  Tucker’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker again.

  “Whoever the fuck thinks he can walk into my house and play games is about to get a Point 5 O sized wake up call. Let’s see what kind of jokes you want to tell with my Barrett jammed down your throat! We got eyes on every exit. Go on and leave whenever you like, but don’t run, boy. Don’t you dare run. You’ll just die real tired.”

  The loudspeaker crackled again and went silent.

  “This guy’s a fucking joke,” Reeve said from deeper inside the building.

  The rumble of the truck motor faded into the neighborhoods and Jed felt the emptiness of the city around them once more. All around the parking lot, the mounds of debris seemed to crawl with slinking monsters moving from shadow to shadow. But Jed knew it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. The city was dead and silent as far as he could see. The debris was the same as it was before.

  Nothing but dust and ruins. And us, stuck here in this building until we decide to go outside and let Tucker shoot us from five hundred yards.

  Sergeant G shouted over their radio net again.

  “Romeo-Whiskey, move it!”

  Jed backed down the narrow room until he couldn’t see the parking lot through the door anymore. He heard footsteps clattering down stairs from somewhere behind him.

  “Welch, let’s go,” Reeve called to him.

  Jed turned to see Reeve coming down a flight of steps and going down a hallway that ended in a corner. With a measured pace, and still expecting a sucker face to come in the parking lot door at any moment, Jed moved past the stairs Reeve had been on. A faint glow, like filtered sunlight, came from around the landing, and he heard the hiss of a radio signal.

  He checked back the way he’d come, through the little day room. The air around the doorway seemed to shake, but nothing moved into his sight picture. No monsters came flying through full of spittle and blood and scrabbling claws.

  Jed finally let himself relax and moved around the corner to join Reeve and the others.

  — 12 —

  Jed followed the sound of Sergeant G’s voice around the corner in the hall and into the open space of the apparatus floor. Thick pillars supported the roof, forming three separate places for the firetrucks to park. Heavy hoses hung from the ceiling, dangling like guts. Everywhere he looked, Jed saw signs of the ruin that New York had become. He couldn’t help it.

  Nothing looks alive anymore. Nothing should be. I’m amazed any of us are still standing.

  “You made it,” Sergeant G said over her shoulder. “Make it faster next time.”

  “Rah, Sergeant.”

  “Post at the end there.” She pointed with her right hand toward the last pillar in a line that supported the high ceiling of the bay.

  Jed moved to where she wanted him and did a quick scan of the apparatus floor, remembering how Meg had shown him where they’d kept protective gear and first aid in her station. The same lockers and cabinets lined the walls of this room, only the doors were all open and most of the equipment was gone. Only a single trauma bag and one case of bottled water were left.

  Jed reminded himself to stay focused and on mission. He kept his weapon up and roved the muzzle across the line of people they’d found on the apparatus floor.

  Five people, a mix of men and women of different races wearing hospital scrubs or dark blue uniforms, sat on the floor or on cots over in a corner. Jed could just make out a shoulder patch on one of them showing the number 53. An injured man and woman, both white, were a little apart from the others.

  A line of bullet holes decorated the wall above the couple’s heads. Sergeant G stood at the left end of the group with Mahton and Reeve standing to her right. Jed glanced at Mahton and saw him twitching. His face was pinched, and he had a hollow look in his eyes.

  Dude’s out for blood, just like Reeve. Somebody’s gonna get theirs.

  “We want to think you’re all good guys,” Sergeant G said. “Most of you look legit, except for you two…”

  She pointed at the couple, who sat by themselves. The man sat closest to the others, with the woman on his right. Her eyes darted side to side, stopping on each of the Marines for half a second. Jed guessed they were married from the way they stayed close together, and especially now that the woman put her arm onto the man’s leg, re
sting her palm there like he was a life raft on the open sea. Not that he or the woman could do much in their condition. He had his left arm in a sling and the woman’s legs were both wrapped in bandages, along with the right side of her face.

  The man stared at Sergeant G, Mahton, Reeve, and Jed in turn, like he was taking their measure or something. It wasn’t the eye-balling that Jed was used to on the block, but he knew when he was being sized up. The guy didn’t even try to hide it. Jed gave it back to him, but kept his attention open, watching for any movement among the group of people in the corner.

  Something about the way they were sitting caught his eye. They were much better off than the couple, with no injuries he could see. But they still didn’t look that great. They were all hunched over. The men sat with their hands between their knees, like they were scared to even speak. Jed didn’t see any visible wounds on them, and was about to ask why they were on the cots. Then he saw they were zip-tied, wrists to ankles, and had more ties holding them to the cots.

  “What the—They’re prisoners!”

  ***

  “We’re first responders,” one of the men said. He wore a set of pale green scrubs and looked young, maybe twenty years old if that. He had a narrow face, pale brown skin, and a strong Spanish accent. Back in school, he could have been one of Gallegos’ friends.

  “You’re all firefighters?” she asked.

  “Sí, chica. This was our house until these pinche culeros and their friends showed up and started giving orders.” He whipped his head in the direction of the couple sitting off to the side. “I sure hope you a different bunch of gun-crazies.”

  “Cool it, Luce,” said another young man in the group. He wore a firefighter’s uniform. His skin was darker, and his English wasn’t accented. He sat in a relaxed pose, even with his hands tied to his ankles. “We’re EMTs, except for Luce,” he said, nodding at the man next to him. “He’s a phlebotomist.”