Five Roads To Texas (Book 10): Salvation

by Gamboa, Allen

  “Hey Dutch!” Zap shouted after him. “Dutch, come here!” “Zap?” The big medic stopped and turned around.

  “Come look at this!” Zap said as he rested a hand on the damaged tire he had removed. Dutch fast stepped it over to the two men, reading something urgent in Zap’s voice.

  “What is it?”

  “Look at this shit.” Zap held something metallic in his left hand. “Found it in the tire.” “Shit.” Dutch grabbed the sharpened metallic spike from the other man’s hand. “This was embedded in the tire?”

  “Yeap.”

  “Fuck us.” Dutch rolled the object around in his hand. “What is it?” Webb asked.

  “It’s an arrowhead.”

  “No shit?” Zap still rested a hand on the tire.

  “This isn’t good.” Hair standing on the back of his neck, Dutch immediately scanned the area around them for movement. Before he could utter a warning to the others, Webb let out a loud gurgling scream as he stumbled backwards, clutching the arrow that was stuck all the way through his throat.

  “Fuck!” Zap let go of the tire and scrambled backward looking for the U-Haul for cover.

  Hobbs had seen the handful of stripped or wrecked cars sitting empty across the road and decided to have a looksee for himself. To him something wasn’t right. With the AK-47 at low ready he cautiously approached a Ford Aerostar that looked like it had been attacked by metal termites. The thing had been taken down to the chassis. Not burned but stripped. It reminded him of places he saw on his first tour in Iraq and the stories his grandfather used to tell him of the Vietnamese that would cannibalize anything the Air Force would leave outside their airbase.

  Mainly trash but whatever it was, they’d take it and use it. People had done this to these vehicles, maybe… Hobbs heard a noise from the alloy skeleton of a Toyota Highlander that was discarded up ahead. He raised the AK up a little and moved over toward it. He felt the searing pain of the arrowhead as it went into his shoulder where the body armor didn’t cover. Before he could turn, another arrow slammed into his left eye socket. Hobbs screamed as he tumbled backwards onto the ground, driving the arrow deeper into his shoulder.

  Dutch drew his pistol, crouched down, and sprinted for the big Ford. He could hear the crack of rifles in the distance as their unseen assailants commenced an attack on the caravan. Dutch fired a couple of unaimed rounds in the direction the arrow had come from then ran over to the driver’s side of the truck. The ex-soldier forcefully pulled the door open and grabbed his rifle from between the seats. A couple of small caliber rounds smashed through the passenger side window. Dutch’s reflexes kicked in as he slammed the door shut and crouched down behind the big Ford.

  “That was close.” He said to himself as he looked around for the others. He saw Zap beneath the U-Haul firing rounds into the desert to their right. Webb lay on his back unmoving and bleeding out. Dutch knew he should try and reach his injured , but he didn’t have a feel for what was out there. He looked to his left and saw Foz kneeling near the driver’s side of the U-Haul, firing his rifle at something across the road. That was when he noticed the arrow shaft sticking out of the Russian’s shoulder. Tough motherfucker, he thought to himself.

  “Foz!” Dutch shouted. “Foz!”

  “Fuckers out in the desert!” The Russian yelled back, still chomping on his cigarillo. “They got Hobbs!”

  “Shit!” With all the commotion, Dutch tried to look past Foz, he saw the familiar pair of Bates boots laying motionless out on the hot asphalt, it was Hobbs. The soldier had been struck with an arrow in the shoulder and one in the face but somehow he was able to get to the road before collapsing. Hobbs also had the keys to the Ford with him. “Shit!” Dutch shook his head in frustration. Maybe wherever Hobbs ended up he’d get that harem he wanted.

  “Fucking desert is filled with them!” Foz growled as he returned fire. Dutch tried to focus, there were about a dozen things moving on both sides of the road. The soldier strained his eyes in the afternoon sun trying to hone in on what their attackers were. Squinting, he suddenly realized that there were people covered in dirt and camouflage crawling along shallow trenches in the ground. He shuddered at the sudden loud reports of an automatic rifle nearby. Their attackers now had Hobbs AK-47. Dutch fired a burst in the direction he thought the small caliber gunfire had come from. They had to get out of here before these scavengers or whatever they were outflanked them.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  CALIGULA’S FIST

  Salton City, AZ

  Ram quickly turned the bike to the right, barely avoiding one of the infected that had stumbled away from the mob of flesh eaters that had been attracted by the commotion of the helicopter attack. Jesse gripped him tight as the cycle jumped a curb and squeezed between the open door of a jeep and the side of a cement bench. Ram kicked the vehicle's door shut as the bike sped past it. The KTM shot down the sidewalk and back onto the asphalt of the street.

  “They still behind us?” Ram shouted over his shoulder to Jesse. His partner glanced back to see the Korean motorcycle soldier following about two hundred feet behind. The other biker was nowhere in sight.

  “Just one. He’s closing in fast!”

  “Swell!” Ram goosed the throttle a little more. “Let’s see if we can lose this turd!”

  The Korean soldier drew his .9mm pistol from his hip holster and aimed at the fleeing cycle. He knew they wanted the man, the female was disposable. The soldier raised the pistol, aimed as best he could and fired.

  “Faster Ram!” Jesse shouted as she gripped him tighter with her right hand. “He’s shooting at us!”

  “Then shoot back!”

  “Already ahead of you!” Jesse had her Glock out and was firing back at the North Korean. The soldier tried to swerve as they exchanged gunfire. Rounds zinged past both of them as they continued their little firefight. One of the soldiers' rounds caught Jesse in the back of her body armor, sending her hard into Ram’s back. The bullet’s impact knocked the wind out of Jesse and almost caused her to drop her handgun. Ram was momentarily thrown off balance and quickly struggled to keep from losing control of the motorcycle.

  The North Korean grinned seeing he had them and fired two more rounds into Jesse's back. One of the shots missed while the other hit her in the upper back, again slamming into her body armor. Jesse was thrown forward by the second impact and again into Ram. This time the old guard lost control of the KTM and crashed it into the side of a Prius sending them both flying head over feet into the road.

  The Korean pulled his bike in behind the Prius and quickly dismounted. The woman lay on her back, neck in an awkward position, it looked like she had broken it. The American man lay face down, a small puddle of blood gathered around his head. The soldier anxiously changed out the magazine in his pistol then looked behind him for Sergeant Woo-Jinn. The street was empty.

  The Korean looked back over at the two motionless Americans. The woman was probably dead, no loss there but the man. He was important, hell, if Woo-Jinn was not going to show up, he’d have this capture and probable promotion to himself. The soldier only hoped he hadn’t killed the American by accident, that would be very bad. Shrugging, he held the handgun against his chest and cautiously walked toward the Americans that were sprawled out in the road. As he passed the woman he stared down at her face.

  A big fan of black hair framed her delicate features. Except for the scrapes she had received in the crash, she’d been quite an attractive woman, the Korean thought to himself, too bad. The soldier gave her side a hard kick with his boot. Nothing. Satisfied she was dead, he stepped over her body and headed over to where Ram lay. Hearing a faint metallic noise from behind, the Korean quickly turned to see what it was. The sound of the Glock was almost deafening to the soldier, the pain even worse as six .9mm rounds tore into his crotch. The Korean let out a gurgle, grabbed at his

  non-existent groin, and dropped to his knees. Eyes wide in disbelief, he quickly did a heavy face plant onto th
e asphalt. Blood swiftly oozed from his wounds and smashed face.

  “Cheese dick.” Jesse slowly sat up, the Glock warm in her left hand. She rubbed her neck with her right hand, laying in that awkward position like that had been uncomfortable as hell. It worked though, faking out the pursuing soldier so she could get the jump on him. Letting out a deep breath Jesse slowly stood up. Her back hurt like hell from where the armor had stopped the dead trooper’s rounds. The rest of her body ached from where she’d struck the pavement. Jesse rubbed her side where that asshole Korean soldier had kicked her, that just added to the multiple aches and pains that rocked her body. As Jesse passed the Korean’s corpse she gave him a hard kick just to make sure he was dead and to let out a little more anger. The deceased soldier didn’t move. “See how you like that cheese dick!” As Jesse Holstered her Glock, she saw Ramacher sprawled out in the road.

  “Ram!” Jesse shouted as she limped over to her partner's still form. “ Ram!”

  “Fuck, me!” The older man slowly rolled onto his back. He wiped the blood from his eyes and tiredly sat up, pain shooting through his back. “Shit!” He wiped some blood from the gash in his forehead. “You okay?”

  “I am.” Jesse nodded. “You?”

  “Feels like I got my ass pounded by Caligula’s fist.” Ram nodded. “You must’ve landed head first then.” Jesse grinned.

  “That’s hilarious.” Ram glanced down at his bloody, gloved hand. “Just some bumps and scrapes. You, you sure look like shit though.”

  “You always know just the right thing to say to a lady don’t you.” Jesse chuckled, her long hair matted with blood from the superficial wounds on her head and face. “Shit, I thought we were toast. Lucky I got the jump on that Korean asshat.” She jerked a thumb back at the dead soldier. “Good work kid. It was me, I'd probably have missed. Now help me up. Think I’m going to need a stupid walker after this bullshit.”

  “Sure Pops.” Jesse extended a gloved hand, which Ram eagerly took. Both of them groaning from their injuries, Jesse helped pull him to his feet.

  “Thanks.” He threw a glance over at the downed motorcycle. The black KTM lay on its side, the front forks were bent, too damaged to ride. “Looks like we’re walking.”

  “Not yet.” Jesse nodded at the Korean soldier's bike that was still upright on its kickstand. “Cheese Dick won’t be needing it.”

  “No, no he won’t.”

  “Damn.” Jesse walked back to where she had fallen and slowly bent down and picked up her pack and rifle. The optics and barrel were both bent and broken. “So much for long guns.”

  “How is it that we are poorer than we started out.” Ram let out a guffaw. “You see the damn ammo bag anywhere?”

  “No.” Jesse shook her head. “Lost it in the crash.”

  “Gotta be around somewhere.” Ram headed back toward the damaged motorcycle, Jesse could see he’d picked up a little limp since the crash. “Keep an eye out. My pack has to be nearby.

  Same with the ammo bag. Gonna need those.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Jesse said changing out the Glocks magazine from her vest pouch. She then shoved the empty magazine into the vacant vest pouch. Jesse had four more loaded in the pouches, after that she would be shit out of luck. They really needed to find the ammo bag and fast.

  “Got it!” Ram said, lifting the bike off the ground and dropping it over onto its other side. The sound of the helicopter's miniguns could still be heard in the distance. Ram and Jessie knew they both needed to get out of the area before the aircraft returned its search for them. “That’s at least some good news.” Jesse said slowly and painfully, shouldering into her backpack.

  “My stuff !” Rams pack had been ripped open in the crash and the contents were now spilled out all over the streets. “There goes my spare underwear.” Grumbling under his breath at his bad luck, he grabbed up the ammo bag and then looked back over at his partner for some sympathy for his loss.

  “Jesse!”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  THIS PLACE SUCKS

  Salton City, AZ

  The area of the town that had been protected by the fence line was now mostly a smoking, burning mess. Fires raged down below the aircraft as the flames caused by their rocket and missile attacks quickly spread from building to building. The survivors were now more worried about escaping the fires and invading infected than the continued assault from the North Korean helicopter. Lieutenant Kang gave the pilot one last order to strafe the buildings below them. Guen nodded and banked the aircraft to the left. Sergeant Sam had just reloaded his door gun and pulled back the charging handle, ready to engage the fleeing civilians below.

  “One more.” Kang said into his headset. “Then we will find that dog Ramacher! “ “Lieutenant Kang.” The sergeant spoke into his mic. “The Americans will think twice about challenging us after this.”

  “They would be fools.” Kang beamed. His head wound had slowed its blood flow considerably, but the Lieutenants ears still rang and his skull felt like it had been used on a football match. “There will be nothing left of this town after we leave. Plus, we will have that Ramacher as a prize.”

  “Do you even know where he is?” The pilot asked.

  “He can’t be far.” Kang grinned through bloodstained teeth. “He can’t hide in the ashes and the rest of the area is desert. Finish off the town Guen. Then we’ll worry about the American.”

  “Yes sir.” The pilot said sullenly. Guen would make sure that when they returned to their forward base of operations, he’d get a reassignment away from the madman Kang.

  Suddenly there was several loud thuds that rocked the helicopter. Guen found himself struggling to control the aircraft.

  “What is happening?” Kang asked the pilot, a mix of concern and annoyance in his voice. “Losing oil pressure.” Guen said, trying not to panic.

  “Why?” The Lieutenant asked as the helicopter was rocked by another round of thuds. “We’ve been hit.” Guen said, almost rolling his eyes. If he wasn’t busy trying to keep them airborne he might have called the Lieutenant an idiot.

  “We’re taking serious fire from the ground!” Sergeant Sam shouted into his headset mic. “Where?!”

  “Behind us!” The door gunner tried in vain to position his weapon so he could return fire on their attackers. “Heavy weapon. Not like the others!”

  “We’re losing too much oil!” Guen said, trying to keep the aircraft aloft. “ Losing hydraulic power too! I have to land us now!”

  “Damnit!” Kang glanced over his shoulder at the gunner. “ Find them and shoot them!”

  “Trying Sir!” Smoke was now starting to fill the cockpit as the helicopter began to lose altitude. More rounds struck the side of the aircraft as it started to shudder and go into a slow spin. “We’re going down!” Guen shouted as he still tried to keep them flying. “’ve lost controls!” “No! Get control!” Kang screamed as he suddenly realized his unchecked narcissism had now caused his own downfall. The helicopter spun out and crashed hard into one of the buildings

  that was already engulfed in flames from the rocket attack. The aircraft's fuel tanks detonated on impact causing a terrific explosion that sent flaming debris flying at least three blocks away from the crash site.

  “Holy shit!” Wez shouted as he watched the helicopter spin out of control then slam into the burning building and explode. “ Holy shit!”

  “Told you we'd get us a bird!” Candy grinned as he slumped into the passenger seat of the ATV, resting the weapons hot barrel on the narrow dashboard. “Just have to know where to hit them.”

  “Good job amigo. Harris would’ve been mighty proud of you.”

  “Yeah.” Candy glanced sullenly back at the body. “Yeah. Now, can we please get the fuck out of here?”

  “Thought you’d never ask.” Wez turned the ATV away from the burning buildings. “That explosion is going to draw even more of those pants shitters. This place sucks.”

  “That it does, Sergeant. That
it does.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  PERFECT END TO A SHITTY DAY

  Peach Springs, AZ

  More gunfire riddled the side of the big Ford as Dutch tried to make himself as small a target as possible. The truck's windows all seemed to shatter at once, causing the mercenary to crouch down as low as possible. One of the scavengers out there had a big fucking gun. The asphalt next to him kicked up small pieces of road as rounds popped off next to him. To the medic it seemed like they were being attacked from all directions. A couple of the alloy arrows zinged by him and stuck in the driver's door.

  “Fuck!” Dutch blindly fired a burst to the left of him. He needed to find some cover fast. These desert dickheads were making it really uncomfortable for him. Dutch waved over to Zap, who was hiding underneath the U-Haul, to run over to him. The younger man nodded and made a sprint in his direction. A carefully aimed round hit Zap in the side of the head sending him flying sideways.

  “Fuck!” Dutch swallowed hard, he knew by the bloody remains of Zaps' head he was never getting back up. So much for that gold-plated Impala.

  Dutch glanced over to see Foz quickly running toward his position. He fired a few rounds to his left and right to hopefully give the injured Russian some cover as he ran for the truck.

  “Thanks Dutch!” Foz said almost out of breath as he slammed his shoulder into the side of the truck and dropped down next to the former medic. Dutch could see the shaft of the arrow still protruding from the front of his left shoulder. “I think we’ve reached the end of our fishing trip, eh?” He grinned, a cigarillo butt still clenched between his teeth. “It was a good run, no?” Foz let out a blast from his rifle toward one of the scavengers.

  “No.”

  Both men heard the roar of the Escalade as it braked hard to a stop parallel with the Ford. The passenger side door flung open and Reese leaned across the front seat.