Anhur

by Wayne Marinovich

  ‘I’ve no interest in getting into a gunfight here so we will have to take this slow,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘We can get an old white shirt on the end of a rifle. Pop it out one of the roof turrets,’ Smithy said.

  ‘That might get you closer. Just remember that the enclave has seen NAG battle trucks before and are used to them being used by gangs,’ Martin said. ‘I will stay out of sight for a while. Let them talk to you first. They won’t want to see me with you. It might sour the negotiations.’

  ‘Just what did you do to make them hate you so much?’ Smithy asked as he got out of the way of the old man who struggled to get to the back of the truck.

  ‘I made decisions that got people killed and then I ran out on them.’

  Gibbs turned in his seat. ’Stuart, can you get the white flag organised? Stick it out the top once we get going. I’m going to drive straight to the main gate. Nobody stick any weapons out of the truck. We’re here to get help for everyone but to do that we have to get into the enclave. We’ve done this before, so listen to Smithy and me, and take your lead from us.’

  Gibbs turned and threw the lever for the fusion drive forward, turning slightly to get the truck aligned with the main gates. He worked his way up the gears until he got to twenty miles per hour. Keeping both his hands on the top of the steering wheel for all to see, he slowed down as they approached.

  ‘Boss, there‘s a gang member van parked up to our left in an old driveway. Both doors are open, but I can see them smoking in the front seats. They’re just sitting there,’ Smithy said.

  ‘Scouts. We can only hope that it’s another gang and not the 38s,’ Gibbs said as he continued to steer the truck towards the enclave main gate. ‘Stuart, start waving that flag. They will have all their eyes on us now. Here we go, people.’

  Smithy placed his M4 against the dashboard and placed both hands on hot plastic below the vertical front window. ‘I see a few faces in the windows.’

  ‘If anyone hears any pings on the bodywork or windows, call out. They have snipers in the buildings that we are passing,’ Gibbs said, slowing the truck to five miles an hour.

  ‘The two big machine guns on the main towers are now focussed on us.’

  ‘I see that,’ Gibbs said, glancing up at the makeshift walkway above the gate. Similar structure to all the enclaves he had been to. ’Smile a little, Smithy, but not like a psychopath like you usually do.’

  ‘For that, I’m letting you get out of the truck first.’

  ‘A gentleman as always,’ Gibbs said and pressed the brake to stop the truck. Setting the hydrogen brake to park, he looked up to the men who were manning the main guns. He raised both his hands, and Smithy did the same. ‘Keep waving that flag, Stuart.’

  Gibbs stood up and eased through the seats to get to the side door. He looked back at Karen and Stuart. Giving them a wink, he pushed down on the metal door lever and swung the heavy side door open. A gust of dry air swirled up into his face, then the rattle of a machine gun as tufts of ground spurted up outside the door. The first warning shots.

  ‘Let me have that white shirt, Stuart,’ Gibbs said. ‘Give me two or three seconds and then follow me out. No weapons in your hands, keep all knives and pistols holstered.’

  Waving the white shirt out through the side door first, Gibbs took the step down, taking a deep breath as he walked around towards the main gate. Nodding up at the people who were handling the tower guns, he walked to the front of the truck. Smithy and Karen followed by Stuart and Grace, who also held up a small white piece of cloth.

  ‘More and more weapons are appearing, boss,’ Smithy said under his breath.

  ‘If that was a 38 Roadster van back there then I hope these folks have a lot more.’

  Gibbs took a step forward. ‘Good morning. We’d like to speak to the warlord or leader of Constance about shelter for a few days.’ A gust of wind picked up and blew dust across the base of the metal gates. Gibbs flicked glances from man to man, who stood above them, all dressed in long jackets, long pants and boots in different colours. Most had scarves that covered their noses and mouths, and a few had full balaclavas.

  ‘We come in peace. We have two wounded men back there who need water and a place to rest. One is a retired doctor.’

  Two of the men above them whispered something to one another. ‘Okay, stranger. Get everyone to drop your pistols and knives in the dirt where you stand, and then walk to the small door to the right of the gate. If we see any weapons on you, we open fire.’

  Gibbs nodded to everyone as he took the Glock out from the holster on his chest, and drew the hunting knife from his belt. Bending down, he placed them in the dust and walked to a small metal door. As the others caught up, he heard a metal clank, and the metal door popped open inwards.

  ‘Smithy, bring up the rear, will you?’ Gibbs said, pushing the heavy door open.

  Walking through, he passed into a large rectangular cage that was on the other side. It was about five meters long and two metres high. The mass clicking of pistols, rifles and machine guns, as rounds were chambered, made Gibbs swivel and turn around. About twenty-five men and women were standing on the other side of the thick wire mesh. The clank of the metal door sealed them in. Gibbs had to admire the ingenuity of it all. They were now cornered away from their truck and weapons and surrounded by close-range shooters.

  ‘Can we speak to the warlord or leader, please? We have wounded people, including a doctor that needs your help,’ Gibbs said.

  A tall man with a shaved head, and a big brown jacket walked forward, an old Beretta 9m in his hand. He had a shotgun on a strap that was on his back and another pistol on a holster strapped to his other thigh.

  ‘Do you really have a doctor in that truck? If we search it and it’s a trap, you’ll all be shot where you stand. Children and all.’

  ‘I’m telling the truth,’ Gibbs said.

  The man nodded and holstered the Beretta. ‘Someone get Big Sal. Tell her we have prisoners who want to talk to her. And one of them is a doctor.’

  Chapter 27

  Constance, Tennessee, USA – 2043

  ‘I take it Big Sal is a bit of a walk away. We’ve been here for ten minutes already and still no sign of her. Can we at least get water, please?’ Gibbs said, staring at the nearest guard, a woman in her early twenties.

  The wire mesh of the cage was hot from the direct sun with only a few hessian sheets thrown over the top. Gibbs looked past their cordon of guards to see makeshift shops and small accommodation areas above streets that led off the main square that was just behind the main gates. A group of women, dressed in dark shirts and trousers that were tucked into cloth boots, walked across the square escorting a group of children. The kids craned their necks to see the group of prisoners in the cage but were reprimanded with a quick tug of the hand.

  ‘We have bottles of water in the truck. Can one of you go and get some if you aren’t in the mood to give us any of your own?’ Gibbs said.

  ‘We don’t share with gang members. Especially those who have stolen a NAG truck,’ a booming female voice said from behind them. ‘The radio is buzzing with the number of trucks being stolen by the 38 Street Roadsters.’

  Gibbs turned to see a woman who was well over six foot tall, standing with two well-armed soldiers. She had Hispanic features with long black hair and dark eyes. Her brown shirt was tucked into black jeans, her cleavage showing above the unbuttoned front. A pistol was in a holster on her left hip and a small magazine band on her right with four magazines packed in.

  ‘We’re not with the 38s. They’ve been harassing us for the past four days,’ Gibbs said. ‘Are you Big Sal?’

  The woman nodded. ‘What gang do you run with then?’

  ‘We were just up in an enclave in Knoxville that was under attack by Rebus Maze and his 38s. They retreated, and we were able to send him packing with the help of those folks. Now we are keen to head towards Mexico.’

  She laughed out loud. ‘Why wou
ld the 38s leave an enclave standing?’

  ‘There were rumours that a large NAG convoy was heading that way. Maybe he didn’t want to get caught in that squabble.’

  ‘That man doesn’t run from a fight. He is psychotic.’

  ‘You’ll get no argument from me on that point. He slit a young friend of our’s throat right outside the gates.’

  ‘Sounds like him. Why did he let you get away?’

  ‘You can ask him if you want. I saw one of his scouts out there, parked up about a half a kilometre back there.’

  ‘I doubt that. We would’ve seen them.’

  ‘I can only tell you what we saw. We’ve been running from them for long enough to know their colours and the van markings.’

  ‘I can back up that statement,’ Karen said, inching forward.

  ‘And who are you that I should believe you?’

  ‘I was in Rebus’s harem for many years after which he gave me to a group of scouts. These kind folks helped me escape. They also rescued young Grace back there. Do we look like a gang? We have injured men in the truck that need help.’

  ‘Yes, my men told me that’s all you wanted,’ Big Sal said, taking a few steps towards Gibbs. ‘The only reason you’re standing in that cage is because you said that one of the injured men is a doctor.’

  ‘He is helping our other friend in the truck, but they both need hospital treatment and rest.’

  Big Sal looked back at her two bodyguards and sent them towards the gate with a nod. They were joined by four armed men. A loud clacking noise rang out across the square as the right-hand gate opened, and with weapons raised, they walked outside.

  ‘I’d also like to leave these folks here for a while. I want to head back out and take out Rebus once and for all.’

  ‘What? The two of you?’ she said, looking at Gibbs and then at Smithy.

  ‘We have an extra van of men out there who I sent to take care of the 38s scout van, which your scouts missed.’

  ‘You can’t be in all places at once.’

  ‘Big Sal,’ one of her bodyguards called out as he ran to her. ‘It’s Doc Simeone. They have Doc Simeone in the truck.’

  Big Sal was thrown by the news and stood for a few seconds, her eyes blinking rapidly.

  Gibbs could see deep emotion tearing at her thought process. ‘You know Martin then?’

  Big Sal walked around the cage and strode towards the gate as one of the men walked in, helping Martin through the gate. Warren was brought in next on a stretcher.

  ‘It could all kick off now, boss,’ Smithy said.

  ‘Hold thumbs that it doesn’t. Step back and see if you can open that door behind us somehow,’ Gibbs said. He felt Karen take his hand, tightening her grip. He didn’t pull away.

  Big Sal reached Martin, who looked at her and said something. His head dropped, and then Big Sal took a step forward and hugged him. They stood embracing for a few seconds and then turned and walked back.

  ‘You can stay for a few days until my father has had a chance to look at your friend. We don’t have a lot of medicine anymore, but we will use what we can.

  ‘Your father. Martin?’ Gibbs said.

  The old man smiled a little. ‘Didn’t want to tell you about our relationship, Gibbs.’

  ‘Gibbs?’ Big Sal said, looking at her father.

  ‘Yes, Sal. You’ve captured the Hooded Man himself.’

  Gibbs felt nausea in his stomach. He’d led them all into a simple trap.

  Big Sal smiled and gestured to one of her bodyguards. ‘Open the cage, and let’s get everyone settled. Gibbs, I’d like to talk to you about problems we have with a local Scavenger crew that is not holding up on their end of the supply deal we have with them.’

  Gibbs walked out of the cage and over to her. He stuck out his hand, which she shook. ‘Do you have any spare vans around?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘If those were 38s out there, they might have contacted Rebus, which means you could soon have a large group of Roadsters bearing down on you.’

  ‘You said that you have men out there.’

  ‘Yes, but you need scouts further out to monitor any major roads in from the north or northwest. If I know Rebus, he’ll be coming in fast so you’d see the dust plume for miles.’

  She nodded. ‘It will be better to have you here to fight for us than out there.’

  ‘Not enough time to get set up a proper defence. In the last place, we had a few weeks to get everyone prepared for a big attack. You won’t have the time here, so focus on the front gate and do everything you can to absorb the attack there. They will flank you and send men to find any weaknesses you have on your flanks. Forget about those and combat them as best you can when they happen.’

  • • •

  ‘Outriders,’ a man screamed from the wall as he started running to the right-hand machine gun. ‘One mile away.’

  Gibbs jumped up from his seat at a small table in the old town square. Big Sal was sitting opposite him and was the first to start running to the main gate. Gibbs caught up to her as she approached two men, who were looking through a small peephole in the metal gate.

  ‘What’s happening out there?’ she said.

  ‘Two vans were approaching ahead of a large dust plume, but have now veered off,’ the nearest man said.

  ‘Some of them will circle round the back to stop anyone leaving in a hurry,’ Gibbs said.

  Big Sal turned to him just as Smithy arrived. ‘If you want your truck you’d better pull it into the square now. I will give you a thirty-second window with the gate open.’

  ‘It‘ll take a little longer to get everything in place,’ Smithy said, running to the cage. He opened up the mesh door and ran through to the metal perimeter gate. ‘Can someone open this up, please? Come on, Gibbs.’

  Gibbs jogged through the cage, and beyond the wall. Smithy had already collected their weapons and reached the side door of the truck. Yanking it open, he climbed inside. Toby bounced down on his three legs and bounded over to Gibbs. He yelped with delight and tried to trip him up as he walked. ‘Come on, you mutt. Time to see what Rebus is made of.’

  The cranking sound started as the main gate’s hydraulic mechanism churned away, protected by the walls. Gibbs reached the door just as a van screeched around the back of the truck. Reaching for his Glock, he saw the smiling face of Blondie behind the wheel. They drew alongside him. Bending down to the small square hole in the side window, he looked across to Fingers, who nodded.

  ‘Did you see the two vans approaching?’ Gibbs said.

  ‘Sure did. We didn’t engage but had to dart back around a few empty streets to get here without being noticed. We going inside?’

  ‘You guys can go in if you want. It’s your choice. Or you can follow us.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To kill some gang members.’

  Both men smiled. ‘Your party sounds a lot more fun.’

  Gibbs tapped the roof and turned to see Smithy standing in the doorway. ‘There you go, planning shit without talking to me.’

  ‘You have a better plan than killing gang members?’

  ‘Don’t be an arse. You drive. I’ll take the GAU19.’

  Gibbs followed him in and jumped into the driver’s seat. The gates were almost open, and he could see Karen had joined Big Sal and her bodyguards. One of the men beckoned him forward as he started up the truck and engaged the fusion drive. Reaching across, he stretched for an M4 and slipped a grenade into the M320 launcher below the barrel. He heard Karen shouting as she stood beckoning furiously. Waving at her, he blew her a kiss, then stopped for a second, not sure where that had come from. Looking at Big Sal, he indicated to her to close the gate and then shoved the drive lever into reverse, watching the reversing van in his side-view mirror. He could not look back at Karen.

  ‘You ready, Smithy?’ he shouted.

  ‘Are we going straight down the front of them?’

  ‘Initially. When Rebus has
seen us, we’ll head off to the right. There’s a dead straight road that goes off in a southwesterly direction. Let’s draw them out on that.’

  Chapter 28

  I75 to Chattanooga, Tennessee, USA – 2043

  The speed on the dashboard read eighty miles an hour. The vibrations causing Gibbs’s teeth to rattle told him the truck was at its limit. Loose objects in the back seating area were rolling around on the floor. One puncture or snap of the steering wheel and they’d veer off into the desert and become beached like a whale in the soft sand.

  ‘Is Rebus following?’ Gibbs shouted above the high-pitched whine of a front wheel bearing protesting against the speed.

  ‘Two vans and two trucks. I saw the rest drive straight down the main street towards the gate. Small flashes of muzzle fire from the trucks but nothing has hit us yet.’

  ‘Fucksakes.’

  ‘Are we going to go back?’ Smithy said.

  ‘And do what? Ask Rebus nicely to accompany us to Chattanooga?’ Gibbs said, turning to avoid a pile of cars that had been stacked on the motorway. Looking ahead, he saw a burnt-out truck body lying across the tarmac, pinned in by the metal railings that still stood on the deserted road. He looked at his side mirror but only saw dust. On either side of the road were culverts, carved into the red ground by previous rainstorms. They couldn’t get around the stricken vehicle carcass without crossing the holes, and beyond that was the scrub wasteland. No place for a heavy truck. Fingers had gone ahead and was trying to nudge the truck out of the way using the van. It wasn’t moving. A sharp pull on the horn from Gibbs, followed by a longer one, saw the van reverse and then inch around the right side of the stricken truck carcass. A few sparks flew from the doors of the van as they scraped on the metal barrier.

  ‘Hold on tight, Smithy.’

  Gibbs pressed the brake and jerked forward as the truck fought the momentum to slow down. Aiming for the right side of the burnt truck, he rammed it. The force threw him forward onto the steering wheel. The NAG truck had reinforced bumpers and vertical tubing welded to the front. It pushed the other truck out of the way with a crash and screech of metal. Gibbs stopped a few meters past it. He grabbed the radio. ‘Fingers, return to my position. We’re targeting the two vans first.’