Survival Rules Series (Book 1): Rules of Survival

by Hunt, Jack

  Nate said. “We’ll find another. The whole damn interstate can’t be like this.”

  “You wanna bet?” Tyler said. Erika didn’t say a word. All the color in her face seemed gone, as if she’d seen a ghost.

  Tyler put the vehicle in reverse and backed up. “You okay back there?” he asked her. Her eyes lifted but she said nothing. In his rearview mirror he saw the blue Toyota slam its brakes on, do a U-turn before it got on I-15 and shot off at a high rate of speed down the road before hanging a right.

  He might have considered it strange had they driven up close and acted intimidating but he never got that impression. It was possible they too were searching for a way out of the city and hoping someone like themselves would find it — no different than if someone was lost and they learned that another driver was going their way.

  Nate pulled out the map again and ran his finger along I-15. “If you go east on Cheyenne Avenue and come off at Las Vegas Boulevard, it turns into the 604 and runs almost parallel to I-15.”

  Tyler spun the Jeep around, and Erika reached out for Bailey as she nearly toppled out. “Tyler!” she bellowed. The Jeep screeched to a halt and he looked at her in the rearview mirror. Tears welled up in her eyes and he knew something bad had happened but neither she nor Nate was talking.

  “Sorry,” he said. He pulled away slowly.

  As they drove in silence, Tyler turned his questions on Nate, curious to learn more about him. He had a sense he still wasn’t telling the entire truth.

  “So, when did you move to Vegas?”

  Nate looked at him and then began drumming with his fingers on his leg. Nerves perhaps? “About eight years ago.”

  “So before that you were living with your mother?”

  He nodded.

  “What did she think about that?”

  “She didn’t care. Anyway, I was tired of Colorado. I needed a new scene.”

  “Colorado? But I thought you said she lived in Spokane, Washington?”

  He opened his mouth then closed it. “Um. No, she does. When I moved out here, she decided to go and stay with her sister in Spokane.”

  “And your father?”

  “Haven’t seen him since I was knee high. And from what my mother told me about him, I’m kind of glad.” Nate looked away.

  Tyler snorted. At least they had one thing in common, fathers they didn’t care too much for. “A bit of a douche?”

  “A bit? He used to use my mother as a punching bag. Yeah, you could say he was a bit of a douche.”

  That put an end to the conversation immediately.

  It was getting harder to make progress. With so many stalled trucks, SUVs, sedans and motorbikes clogging up the road they had to keep getting out and trying to roll them out of the way. But doing so left the Jeep exposed. One of them had to keep an eye on it, and Erika still being in a state of shock wasn’t making it any easier.

  Tyler put his shoulder into it while Nate guided the wheel, and the stalled vehicle veered over to the sidewalk.

  “Nate. What happened back there?”

  “She should probably tell you.”

  “I’m asking you. What happened?”

  Nate jumped in and hit the brake on the Ford Edge and got out. He looked off towards the Jeep and sighed. “She killed someone.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because it wasn’t my place to.”

  He walked to the rear of the SUV and they crossed the road to shift a small Nissan out of the way. “There was a young girl in the store. The owner was dead. Two guys entered and were searching for the girl. I tried to get her out. Erika, I mean, but she went back inside. By the time I made it back inside, they were dead.” Tyler jumped into the vehicle this time while Nate pushed. He glanced back at Erika, understanding what she felt. Killing someone even if necessary didn’t make it easy. No matter how bad they were or what they had in mind, they were still a human being after all, and the weight of guilt was heavy.

  “You ever killed anyone?” Tyler asked.

  “Oh, so you assume because I earned my living robbing people I must have?”

  “It was just a question.”

  Silence formed between them.

  “No. No I haven’t,” Nate replied. “You?”

  “Yeah.”

  He stopped pushing and came around. “You serious? Who? When?”

  Tyler jammed the gearstick into park and got out. “Yesterday. When the store came under attack.”

  “Under attack?”

  Ashamed to admit what he had done, he unloaded his burden. Once done, he kind of felt relieved. While the act of telling someone didn’t change the situation one iota, it did feel good not to carry it alone.

  “You did what any of us would have done.”

  “You think?” Tyler asked as they moved one more vehicle. It wasn’t that he needed affirmation but he was curious to see what Nate might have done.

  “Damn right. I’m not dying. I will do whatever it takes to survive. If that means choosing between me and some random asshole who decides they want what I have, it will be me standing at the end.”

  They were about a hundred yards away when Erika screamed. Tyler whirled around in time to see Bailey latch on to someone’s arm. There were three individuals surrounding the Jeep, and one of them had managed to grab Erika from behind and was attempting to pull her out of the Jeep. Nate and Tyler brought up their rifles and fired off several rounds causing the men to duck and scramble. Bailey took after one of them while the other two split. The one wearing a dark green hoodie dragged Erika over to an alleyway.

  “Stay with the vehicle,” Tyler said, pointing to the Jeep while he sprinted for the alleyway. By the time he made it there, he saw a side doorway close. He could still hear her muffled cries as he tried to get in. “Shit!” It was an emergency exit with no handle on the outside. How the heck did you get in? It must have been open. Not wasting any time, he hurried up to the mouth of the alley and came around to the front of the building to see where she’d been taken. It was a block of apartments. He yanked on the front door but it was locked. Taking a few steps back he unloaded several rounds at the glass until it was completely shattered. Then he climbed in, cutting his hand in the process. “Damn it.” He hurried through the darkened corridor calling out her name but getting no response. She could have been anywhere inside there. There were apartments on either side. Doors were closed and if anyone was inside, they weren’t responding to the shots fired or him yelling out her name. When he made it to the far end of the corridor, he pulled open a door and entered a second hallway that had an emergency exit door at the end. Within seconds he pushed through it and found himself in the alleyway.

  Just as he was turning to head back in, a guy stepped out from a doorway off to his left and slammed into him, holding a knife and trying to jam it into his heart. Tyler had released his grip on his rifle, and it was dangling around his arm as he used both hands to hold his attacker at bay. He thrust him backwards, and kneed him in the nuts before following through with an uppercut.

  Without even thinking he swung his rifle around as the man tried to get up and fired a round into his skull. A quick glance to his left and right and he entered the doorway the man had emerged from. It was a laundry room with multiple washers and dryers. The smell of dryer sheets lingered. “Erika. Erika!” he yelled as he hurried through only to find her lying on her side in an adjoining room. Dropping a knee, he placed his ear near her mouth and found she was still breathing, just unconscious. Her lip was split and bleeding badly. Slipping her arm over his shoulder, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and hauled her up. As he started to drag her out of there, she began to come to. She let out a scream and tried attacking him. “It’s me. It’s me,” Tyler said. Her eyes widened and she began to cry. “It’s okay. You’re safe. Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

  As they passed the dead man on the way out, Erika glanced down at him and then back at Tyler. “You did that?”r />
  “Yeah. And he’s not the first.”

  She squinted at him but he didn’t explain further. It was self-explanatory, though he was sure questions would come later. They trudged out the side exit door and along the narrow alleyway that was littered with garbage and overturned trash cans. The smell of rotten meat carried on the air, a sign of the times. Garbage collectors wouldn’t be coming and in a city of this size, it wouldn’t take long before the streets would be overflowing with trash.

  When they made it back to the Jeep, Nate was down on one knee, comforting the dog. As soon as Bailey saw Erika, she ran over and rubbed her head against her knees.

  “I’m okay, girl. Thanks to you.” She then looked at Tyler. “And you. Thank you.”

  As they climbed into the Jeep, Nate said, “You remember that blue Toyota? That was them.” He pointed off towards a road just a few blocks down. “I saw the other two peel away in it.”

  “At least they didn’t get the Jeep.”

  “But they took two of the backpacks.”

  “What?” Tyler scanned the back of the Jeep. Sure enough they were gone. Only one was left, and that was his own. “Damn it. Damn it!” he said kicking the side of the Jeep. They didn’t linger but one thing they were beginning to realize was that having a working vehicle was like placing a bull’s-eye on their back. Even for those that already had a vehicle. In a world without power, transportation was as valuable as food, clean water, medication, shelter and weapons. Then again it might not have been the vehicle they were after but their supplies. It wouldn’t get better, and Tyler wasn’t sure if the pros of having the vehicle outweighed the risk. So far they’d been fortunate but how long would that last?

  21

  On the lam. Who would have thought it possible? Gabriel had spent years thinking about what freedom would feel like. This wasn’t it. Oh no, this was so much sweeter. He couldn’t have asked for more. With the power down and telecommunication no longer working, it only stacked the odds in his favor. Sure, cops were out looking for them but for how long? A town, a county, a state, even the nation only had so many resources to use when a prisoner escaped, and in all cases, they relied heavily on communication, volunteers, witness tips, transportation, clear roads, and most of all — order.

  Where was that now?

  He smiled as he lay on the bed staring up at the log cabin ceiling.

  After three failed attempts to escape, he thought he’d never see the outside again. The system had taken additional measures to ensure he wouldn’t get another chance and he was sure that was why his name was on the list of transfers. Oh, if they could have known. What a screw-up. A beautiful screw-up.

  Minutes earlier he’d awoke to the sound of birds chirping, the scent of pine, and a faint band of sunshine filtering through the blinds. It had been the best night of sleep he’d had in over six years. He rolled off the king-size bed and walked over to the window to take in the sight of the new day. He picked up the handgun on the side table and stuffed it in the front of his waistband, covering it with his shirt. Day two of freedom was already shaping up to be good. Good weather, a great climate, beautiful views, and… He reached across and flicked the light switch up and down to see if anything had changed.

  Nothing. No power. Perfect.

  Gabriel leaned his neck from side to side causing it to let out a cracking sound as he worked out the tension from the crash. They’d been extraordinarily lucky. It was as if fate was giving him another chance and he planned on taking it.

  After setting fire to the ranger station and witnessing the crew they were up against, they’d taken shelter inside the home of a family a few miles south, just on the edge of the lake. The large log cabin was nestled in the trees, a good distance from neighbors. Out of sight, out of sound, no one heard the family of four scream the night before as he and the rest of the vicious inmates burst in and took over.

  He’d stayed awake for the first few hours, and then they’d rotated shifts to keep an eye out for cops. Gabriel made his way down the thick wooden ladder from the loft. Marcus and Hauser were awake while the others slept. “How are they?” Gabriel asked.

  “Still in there.” The father, mother and two boys were tied up and locked inside a large walk-in pantry closet. He nodded to the kitchen area. “Coffee is on the counter. Had to use a Coleman stove but it did the trick.”

  “You checked the landline this morning?”

  “I pulled the cord out last night. It’s of no use. Why? Who were you going to call?”

  “An old friend in Utah.”

  “What do you think?” Hauser said opening his arms wide to show him his new threads taken from the father’s closet. Gabriel smiled. “There was enough for a few more but Barret and Jones will need something larger.”

  They were over two hundred pounds and the father of the home was closer to one eighty. Gabriel poured himself a hot cup of coffee and took a sip. Hauser walked over. “Not bad, huh?”

  “It’s a mean cup of joe.” He glanced at his brother just beyond the window. He was sitting in the porch rocker keeping an eye on the driveway. “How’s he today?”

  “Quiet. Look, Gabriel. Do you think it’s wise we stick together?”

  Gabriel screwed up his eyes and Hauser raised a hand. “I’m just saying. They’re probably looking for all of us and traveling together as a group isn’t exactly smart.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?”

  “Then why bother insisting that we do it?”

  He didn’t answer him, instead he brushed past and wandered out. A warm breeze blew against his face, the sun already beginning to heat up the landscape. Gabriel took a seat beside Marcus without saying anything. He looked up the driveway and then out across the lake. A few minutes passed and then he said, “What I said yesterday. I…”

  “Don’t bother. I know what you meant.”

  Gabriel looked at him before taking another sip from his cup. “What you did before, was your past. I’m not asking for a reason why you did it, only that you leave it there, in the past. We have an opportunity, Marcus. Never before has this been presented to us, and probably never again. This is it. We need to make it count. That means sticking together, watching out for each other, and playing our cards right.”

  “You mean not having any fun.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I’ve been stuck in that prison for five years.”

  “As have I, and even longer, but now we get a chance to turn things around.”

  “Oh please. They are going to have us back in the slammer within seventy-two hours.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “I need a woman,” he said.

  “And you will have one but not that way. We are not that way.”

  “You might not be but I am.”

  “Bullshit. I don’t believe that. I don’t know who skewed your mind but my kid brother is not a rapist.”

  Marcus snorted. “You keep on believing that.”

  “Then choose differently.”

  Marcus turned in his seat with a scowl on his face. “Why does it matter to you? It’s not like we’re planning on living out the rest of our lives as ordinary people. We are on the run, Gabriel. We are wanted felons. Bad shit got us where we are, and it’s what we do.”

  “We define who we are.”

  “That’s right. I know who I am. Maybe it’s time you accept who you are.”

  With that said Marcus got up and walked back inside, leaving Gabriel pondering.

  Over the next twenty minutes he sat there thinking about the road ahead. There were many directions they could head. All were dangerous and had the possibility of ending in disaster. As he weighed the pros and cons of heading for Whitefish, he heard the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires. Instantly he rose to his feet and scanned the tree line. There, between the pines, a green military truck was approaching.

  Gabriel dashed inside. “Wake up. Everyone. Get up.”

  The inmates were spraw
led out on the couches, and in chairs, and on the floor. He went around and gave a kick to those who were less than responsive. “Get up now! Marcus, Hauser, get the family, take them to the back room of the house. Keep them quiet.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Just do it.”

  He hurried over to the window and pulled back the drape ever so slightly. The same vehicle from the previous night rumbled down to a stop. He could see it between the trunks of the trees. It was parked on the main road. Several cops jumped out the back and they fanned out, heading for the neighbor’s home across the way, while two armed guys walked down towards their cabin.

  Gabriel heard the door shut in the rear of the home. He turned and scooped up a few of the pillows on the floor, along with blankets, and tossed them onto the sofas. He collected some of the used cups and took them out to the kitchen and hid them inside the dishwasher. Quickly, he poured himself another cup of coffee, and looked in a mirror on the wall. He ruffled his hair a little more, and grabbed up one of the throw blankets and wrapped it around him. He adjusted the Glock in the front of his jeans and made sure it wasn’t visible. Just as he was doing that, he heard footsteps approach the door and then two knocks.

  He scanned the room for anything that looked out of place, and then spotted a photo of the family. He grabbed it and slid it behind a pillow.

  Another knock, then he saw a face at the window trying to peer in

  “Yeah, just coming.”

  He shuffled over and cracked the door open, taking a quick sip of his drink to appear normal. “Damn, it’s bright out,” he said as he squinted and gave his best performance. Outside there was a guy in his early thirties, dark eyes, a thick beard, swept-back hair, athletic in appearance and rugged-looking in jeans and a thick sweater. He noticed tattoos on his forearm, and the carbine rifle he was carrying. The other guy looked weedy, spectacles, salt-and-pepper hair and wearing clothes that looked like they’d been bought by an overly protective mother.