by Urban, Tony
“Supper! Come!”
Immediately the dog let go. Franklin kicked, botting the dog in the back end and eliciting a pained yelp.
That was the final straw.
With Supper out of the way, Wyatt shot. The bullet caught Franklin in the side, and he spun around before dropping to a knee. Wyatt shot again, but that one missed.
Shouting voices, dozens of them, rushed toward his group and stole his attention. He looked and saw what seemed to be every asshole in the casino rushing their way.
They had to get out of here and fast, but first he wanted to end the son of a bitch who’d killed his girlfriend and kicked his dog.
But when he looked back to Franklin, the man was gone.
“We have to go, Wyatt!” Barbara screamed.
She was right.
“Take the cart,” Wyatt said.
As she did, Wyatt grabbed the handles of Seth’s wheelchair. His little brother was sobbing as he clutched Rosario’s lifeless hand between his own.
“I’m sorry, brother, but we’ll have to mourn later.”
He didn’t wait for Seth to answer. He ran.
Chapter 60
They made it to the border, which thankfully was only a few hundred yards from the casino. It was about time something worked out in their favor.
Scores of rusted out cars sat against the large wall, which looked identical to the one that had stopped them months earlier. There was no point of entry, but Wyatt had planned for that.
“So, what now,” Seth asked.
Barbara pulled out the green hard case and opened the lid to reveal the explosives.
“Now, we make a door,” she said.
She quickly dug a small indentation in the dirt next to the wall, tucked the bomb into it, then packed dirt around to hold it in place.
“How do you know what you’re doing?” Seth asked.
“I read the instructions,” she said, some of the old moxie returning to her voice.
And Wyatt loved hearing it. As she finished, he scanned the desert and saw pinpricks of light in the distance behind them. They’d lost their pursuers in the darkness, but the mob hadn’t given up.
“Get behind the cars,” Barbara said.
Supper jumped in Seth’s lap and Wyatt took them a good distance away from where the explosives were planted. The four of them hunkered behind a dilapidated VW van and Barbara raised the detonator.
“You ready?” she asked.
“I’m not--” Seth didn’t get to finish his sentence.
Barbara pushed the button and the bomb went off in an instant. Chunks of dirt fell from the sky and dust shrouded everything around them.
If the mob wasn’t sure where to find them before, they sure as hell would now.
“We need to go,” Wyatt led the way.
They dashed to the wall where a hole at least ten feet across had been blasted through. He stepped through, for some reason expecting things to be different in Mexico, but it was just more desert. More nothing.
It was too dark to see very far south. Only a black void. One Wyatt was ready to jump into.
That’s when the gunfire kicked off.
The mob had caught up to them.
Damn, that was fast, Wyatt thought.
They took cover behind the southern side of the wall as bullets plinked against the metal. They were safe behind the steel, Wyatt knew, at least for a few moments. Until the others came through the hole they’d just made.
Barbara dug through the shopping cart and pulled out guns. She passed one to each of her sons.
“What’s the plan?” Seth asked. “Do we wait for them to join us south of the border or start shooting back all willy nilly?”
“I vote to wait,” Wyatt said.
“I vote for willy nilly,” Barbara said.
“I guess that makes me the tiebreaker.” Seth raised an eyebrow.
Wyatt smiled at him. “Well? Which is it?”
“I say we--”
High, feral shouts cut off his words. Wyatt knew the sound immediately - cannibals.
They must have heard the sirens blaring and took that signal for weakness, for a chance to attack. Good planning, Wyatt thought.
Screams and yelps and cries of pain volleyed over the wall.
There was a smattering of return fire but not much. Wyatt knew the mob had little in the way of firearms because he’d stolen almost all the pistols and hidden the ammunition for the rifles.
With no way of fighting back, all the community from the casino could do was run. And they ran toward the wall. It sounded like a stampede of horses coming their way and Wyatt knew nothing good awaited.
“We have to run!” He shouted to his family. And they did.
Behind them was a chorus of battle. Cannibals whooping and yelling, people dying, guns firing. And pain. So much pain.
As they ran Wyatt glanced back and saw a handful of shapes of humans pass through the hole. Some of them were firing backward, at whoever was shooting at them, but most shot ahead. At them.
“Up there!” One of them said. “Those fuckers that killed Papa are getting away!”
Wyatt heard bullets zip through the air. Saw them kick up dirt. Felt the cool breeze as they soared by, too close.
He fired blindly behind him, not expecting to hit anyone, but hoping to slow them down or force them to hit the ground. It didn’t seem to be working.
They continued to flee but bullets kept coming at them. He spotted a boulder ahead, one big enough to provide cover for all of them. “Up there!”
Wyatt got Seth behind the rock and his brother dove from his chair and to the ground. He held Supper beside him to keep the dog safe.
Bullets pinged off the rock, blowing out chunks as they ricocheted wildly.
Wyatt peered around the edge, aimed, shot.
A man fell to the ground with a grunt. Wyatt aimed to shoot again, but incoming fire sent him diving to the ground.
He landed beside his mother and reached out, grabbing her arm. “Get behind the rock,” he said, wondering what she was waiting for.
She didn’t answer. He looked at her, but it was so dark it took him a minute to see her hands holding her neck.
And to see the blood gushing through her fingers.
“Mom!”
In the midst of the melee she’d been shot, and he hadn’t even realized. What kind of son lets that happen?
Barbara’s eyes were wide and glassy. Blood drained from her mouth.
“Seth! Oh fuck, Seth!” Wyatt screamed as he watched his mother bleed, helpless.
It wasn’t like Seth could make this better, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say, anything else to do.
“Seth!” He repeated. Panic threatened to take over, but he couldn’t let that happen. He had to stay calm and keep his mother alive.
“Wyatt?” Seth said. His voice was anything but calm.
Wyatt turned to his brother who frantically and silently pointed south like the world’s worst mime. He followed his gesticulations and saw what had his little brother so scared.
There were hundreds of them, stretching as far into the dark as they could see.
Rows of sticks planted in the ground. But they weren’t just sticks.
They were pikes. And on each one of them was topped with a rotting human head.
Behind the pike’s, Wyatt saw figures emerging from the darkness. Coming toward them.
He heard his mother gurgle and returned his attention to her. Her eyes were no longer startled and glassy, they were dull. And closing.
“No, mom! Please hang on!” Wyatt screamed.
He tore off his shirt and pressed it against her neck but the river of blood that had flowed so free was already down to a trickle.
She was dying in his arms.
“Seth, I need your help!”
He glanced back at his brother who had both arms wrapped around Supper as the dog growled and snarled at the shadows approaching from the south. Wyatt had never
seen his dog act so vicious and he wondered what type of evil the mutt sensed coming their way.
And he wondered, what fresh hell did we step into now?
THE END
Afterword
We hope you enjoyed “Flesh of the Sons” which is book 2 in the “Cannibal Country” series. Book 3 will be available in 2020. And if you thought books 1 and 2 were crazy, buckle up, buttercup!
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