‘Shit,’ he thought to himself, finally taking time to evaluate the decisions that had led him to this point. He and Daniel had had one clear, specific objective: to lead the infected away from his wife and children.
They’d done that.
Everything afterward….was it worth it?
Should they have gotten involved?
Wincing as he tried to move in a way that would put less pressure on his injured side, his mind worked quickly, considering the questions he’d asked himself, poking holes in each side of the argument.
His first obligation was to his family.
But the people in the truck didn’t deserve to die.
He’d put himself at risk by getting involved.
Someone had to stand up for those who couldn’t defend themselves.
His family needed him.
His family respected him.
Because he did the right thing when it mattered most.
Gazing up at the three shapes above him, Daniel tried to fix his gaze on what he thought was their leader: the dark-haired female in the middle.
He ignored the feeling of blood running down his torso as it leaked from the gunshot wound. Fortunately it hadn’t hit any organs, but it had torn away some of the flesh at his side, leaving a thick groove just below his ribcage. It hurt like hell.
Shifting slightly, his hand found what it was searching for: the gun at his hip. With the position he was in, the gun was out of view of those above him. With any luck…
‘Come on, Daniel, be serious, you can’t even see clearly,’ the pessimist inside him said to his optimistic self in the no-nonsense tone it always used.
‘Okay,’ the optimist relented, ‘With a shitload of luck…’
Looking down on him, the Scorpion held the gun in her hand as she continued. “I suggest you give up now, you piece of shit. I’m fucking irritated, tired, and hot.
“If you do, maybe it won’t be as bad for you as it could be, and trust me, it’ll take a lot to keep me from introducing you to the worst pain you’ve ever felt.”
Glancing at Paul, Daniel saw that the young man still wasn’t moving. That factor limited his options even further. He couldn’t leave the teenager behind, so escape would be exponentially harder.
‘Fuck,’ he said to himself.
Looking up at the woman and her henchmen, he could only wish for a better outcome than what they’d surely face.
The sounds in the room seemed to intensify as he stared up the trio who stood at the top of the stairs. He blinked as a sudden realization set in.
Unless....
The woman continued, her voice growing more confident with every passing second as she calculated the limitations of the two injured men.
“Listen,” she began, “I know you’re trying to figure out how you’ll get out of this, and who knows? Maybe you think you’ve come up with something: some way that you’ll escape, some way that you’ll get the upper hand, maybe even some way that you’ll kill us.”
The Scorpion laughed out loud at her words, leaning forward as she did. Beside her, Clint and Mario joined in, their deeper laughs adding to hers as the three of them collectively found amusement in the plight of the two injured forms below them.
After a moment, she shook her head.
“Trust me, though: you won’t. My men here will put a dozen bullets in you if you even move a muscle.” She shrugged. “All you can possibly do is piss me off even more, and trust me, I’m already angrier than I ever thought was possible. In fact,” she said, cocking her pistol, “I really want to just kill you right now and be done with it.”
Daniel was tired of listening to the woman drone on with her self-centered, egocentric speech. It’d been their actions that had caused him and Paul to intervene. Now she was up there, looking down at them and acting like she was the victim in all of this.
Parched and exhausted, his voice cracked as he looked up at the woman and spoke.
“Fuck you.”
At the top of the stairs, he saw a sudden movement before the sound of a gunshot echoed in the open space of the giant atrium. Bits of ceramic tile showered his face as a bullet ricocheted off the nearby step and zipped past his head, making him flinch. His ears rang as they dealt with the sudden, deafening sound.
The Scorpion laughed again. “Boy, oh boy, you’re pushing me, you fuck. I really do want to be done with this…. just put a bullet in the center of your stupid fucking head and be done with it. If I did, I could leave your stupid body here to bleed out as you fucking die while I deal with your friend there.…
“But then you’d never get to feel the pain that you made me feel, and you know what? That wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair, would it?” she asked, her eyes blazing with building fury.
She shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t be fair at all. I fucking loved the woman you killed. She was my everything, and you took her away!”
Unable to control herself, she pulled the trigger again.
Pain flared in Daniel’s left thigh as a chunk of muscle was torn away by the hot metal of the bullet that ripped through his leg. Squeezing his eyes shut as he gritted his teeth, he struggled to hold his tongue as he dealt with the sudden rush of pain that stormed his body.
“Go ahead, hold it in for now,” the woman said in her cocky, undeterred voice. Brimming with unchecked confidence, she clearly felt zero concern and saw no threat in the injured men on the landing twenty feet below her.
“Eventually, you’ll break.”
Lowering the gun, she smiled. She had the two men right where she wanted them: injured, pinned down, and ripe for the picking.
“I promise,” she added.
Daniel’s vision flowed back and forth like a semi-opaque wall, seeming to rush towards him, then back away, as he stared up at the figures above him. He had no idea if what he had in mind would work.
He just knew it was their only chance at survival.
And he’d only get one chance.
“Wait,” he managed, bringing his left hand upwards towards them slowly, showing his open palm. He could only hope that their eyes would focus on it as his right hand took hold of the pistol’s grip.
Enjoying the man’s plight, the Scorpion chuckled. Shaking her head as if she were talking to a small child, she chided him. “What, you’ve got something you want to say?”
“Just this,” he replied, shifting suddenly. He brought a gun up and fired it before she could react.
‘Oh fuck!’ her mind screamed as she saw the flash at the end of the gun he pointed at her. She’d underestimated him. He’d fooled her into thinking he was helpless, and got the drop on her.
It took her mind several seconds to realize she hadn’t been hit by the bullet.
She smiled as she looked down at the man once more.
“You’ll pay for tha - ”
The one-inch thick tempered glass walls that surrounded the food court were strong. Compressed to over 10,000 psi, each piece was designed to support hundreds of pounds and withstand most impacts without breaking.
The glass behind where the Scorpion stood had already been weakened by the bullets from Clint’s rifle.
With his blurred vision, Daniel knew he had little chance of getting a killshot on a figure thirty feet away. Hitting a ten foot high, eight foot wide piece of glass wasn’t as challenging.
The bullet from his gun hit the glass, sending one last shockwave through its surface.
It crumbled.
When the Scorpion heard the sound of breaking glass behind her, she knew she’d made a mistake. Before any of them could turn to face their attackers, they were swarmed over.
A tough, trained fighter, it’d been years since she’d endured pain at the hands of another.
This was simply overwhelming.
Blows collided with her face and body, knocking the wind out of her and blurring her vision. Hands tore hair from her head and flesh from her body. Fabric tore as the hands of the crazed humans tried
to rip her apart. Using every skill she had, she fought back, finding her knife and using it to slash her attackers.
A fist slammed into the side of her head, stunning her. She slashed out blindly in that direction, then felt hot blood splash her hand and arm. Something collided with her right eye socket, shattering the bone. Pain radiated from the area as she thrust the knife in the direction of the assault. More blood on her hand.
She felt her head pulled forward by her hair, then felt it being slammed downward.
Her vision blurred as dizziness took hold.
Watching the melee above them, Daniel knew he needed to get them out of there. He also knew that with his wounded side and thigh, he’d be unable to carry Paul’s limp form. He needed the young man to wake up.
Above him, gunfire sounded sporadically as the gang members desperately tried to fight back against the infected. Body after body fell as bullets found their mark, but for every one that fell, two more took its place.
Pointing his pistol at the glass next to Paul’s head, he waited until he heard one of the semi-automatic weapons fire, then pulled the trigger three times. The glass wall of the staircase exploded outwards, showering everything below.
He slid his body forward, then reached over and grabbed Paul by his shirt and belt. Straining as he tried to ensure his efforts wouldn’t stretch against the torn part of his midsection, he tossed the teenager over the edge of the landing, hoping he’d remembered the layout of the lobby correctly.
Either way, he’d find out in a second.
Grabbing the edge with both hands, he took a deep breath, then used all of his remaining strength to pull himself forward and over the edge.
A second later, he was falling.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
East Palo Alto, California
‘So this is how it ends, Logan said to himself when he heard the gunfire.
A lifetime of hard work, dedication, and devotion to his country, his family, and to those he cared about, would end at the hands of ignorant racists. Men who’d rather see their fellow Americans die than to consider the thought of a young Mexican girl’s blood being used to form a cure.
He’d done everything he could to save her, rescuing her from Reilley, from the men who’d chased them from the salt ponds onto the bridge, from the grenade, and from drowning in the bay, and yet, in the end, none of it would make a difference.
He closed his eyes and pulled her close to him, hugging her one last time, feeling his heart swell with unexpected affection for her. At least she’d feel some comfort in her last moments.
The impacts never came.
There was no searing, ripping pain that accompanied hot metal tearing through a person’s body. No feeling of being punched with the heavy thud of bullets hammering the body.
Instead, crumpling sounds followed as heavy objects hit the ground.
Then, silence.
Slowly, cautiously, Logan turned his head and looked back at where the men had stood. Both of them were on the ground, dead.
A pair of muscular men, both with telltale Marine Corps ‘high and tight’ haircuts (though clearly in desperate need of a trim) emerged from the bushes and walked towards where he and Isabella stood.
When they got close enough, the one on the right, the thicker of the two, a black man with an easygoing smile, raised his hand and lifted his chin.
“You two alright?”
Logan nodded slightly.
“No!” Isabella replied. “He’s hurt!”
The men rushed over to their side. The second man grabbed Logan’s elbow and quickly guided him to one of the nearby rocks, sitting him down. He smiled at Logan reassuringly.
“Don’t worry, we gotcha.”
“Thanks,” Logan replied, wincing as he moved. “Who are you guys, anyway?”
Pulling open a water bottle, the dark haired man started cleaning Logan’s shoulder as he spoke. “Sergeant Phillip Singletary, United States Marine Corps,” he said, remaining focused on the wound. “If you prefer, you can call me Phil,” he added. Jabbing his thumb towards the Black man, he said, “That there is Sergeant Dennard.”
The black man smiled and nodded. “Aaron,” he offered, before looking over at Isabella. “Are you her?”
Isabella looked back at him, confused. “Who?”
“The girl who’s immune,” he replied.
“I - ”
“How do we know we can trust you?” Logan asked, still in pain. Sergeant Singletary finished cleaning his shoulder, then lifted his button up shirt up and used a knife to cut away a piece of the t-shirt he wore underneath. As he brought the fabric up to Logan’s shoulder, he smiled again.
“‘Cause that’s our mission. We’re here to get you to safety.”
Looking over from where he stood nearby, Aaron added, “And Marines never quit on a mission.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
East Palo Alto, California
“Holy shit,” Sarah said under her breath as the eight cylinder engine of the heavy duty armored truck sputtered and came to life. She’d been skeptical of the small charger’s ability to give the truck’s battery enough electricity to turn the engine’s starter. It had, after all, been designed to recharge much smaller batteries. Nevertheless, somehow it provided enough electrical current to recharge the truck’s battery, and when she turned the key in the ignition, the truck’s starter slowly wound up before providing just enough motion to generate the needed combustion inside the engine. The engine coughed twice, then came to life with a mighty roar, shaking the entire vehicle.
“How long have you been charging it?” Serafina asked from the passenger seat. Jennifer sat between them staring in awe at the sight of the engine’s rpm indicator on the dash.
“Not nearly long enough,” Sarah replied, shaking her head. “This must be our lucky day,” she added, thinking about how close they’d come to being blown sky high by the woman who held the detonator to the explosives she’d planted.
“I sure hope so,” Serafina said, looking anxious. “So, which way’d they go?” she asked.
Putting the truck in gear, Sarah simply replied, “To the left.” As the truck lurched forward, she called out, “Hold on back there!” She drove to the intersection and turned left, following the path the two men had taken.
As they drove, they were constantly worried that Daniel and Paul had taken a side street or some other detour that took them in a different direction than the one they’d followed, but between Serafina, who felt confident about predicting her husband’s tendencies, and Sarah, who felt an internal homing mechanism that guided her towards the people who had intended to hurt her children, they decided to do the only thing that made sense: they used their guts.
The fact that they were in alignment made them feel even more confident.
Even so, as they drove on, they found themselves looking for confirmation, for something that would vindicate their beliefs, lending them temporary faith as they continued to follow their instincts.
That vindication came shortly after they crossed under the 101. Looking to the right, they saw the burned out husk that represented what remained of the IKEA store. To the left they saw a series of small businesses, none of which would be appealing to people trying to hide from those who wanted to see them dead. Too much bloodshed at each, too many dead bodies, too much risk.
“Bringing the big truck to a stop, Sarah looked over and asked, “Thoughts?”
Serafine looked at the IKEA for a long moment before turning away and shaking her head. “I would have bet money they’d be there…” Looking at what stood nearby, she shook her head again. “Nothing around here. All of these places were homes to violence. No way Daniel would want to hide out in a place where the infected had left a lot of bloodshed. Too dangerous.”
“I’m thinking they continued on that way” Sarah said, pointing east, “if they could get beyond that pileup,” she said, pointing toward the multiple cars that had collided with each other, “they
’d be able to leave the gang in the dust.”
“Agreed,” Serafina replied, looking towards the mass of cars. Whatever caused the pile up must have been dramatic. There were at least ten cars in the tangled mess of metal. “But if they went that way, where did the gang go?”
“Hmmm…” Sarah replied, holding her right foot a few inches above the gas pedal as her left foot remained pressed down on the clutch. “Any chance they could squeeze by?”
“I don’t think so, but maybe we should take a look.”
“Okay.” Lowering her foot down on the gas pedal slowly, she simultaneously began releasing the pressure on the clutch, allowing the big truck to lurch forward. She was starting to get the hang of driving the monstrosity of a vehicle.
‘A stick is a stick,’ she told herself, smiling slightly. Driving the truck down the street, she continued to scan both sides of the road for threats, expecting either the infected or the gang that was chasing Daniel and Paul to come charging at them at any second. Protected by the heavy armor that surrounded the truck, she wasn’t too worried about the infected, but she had no idea what the gang might try if they had a second chance.
As they approached the wreckage, Serafina pointed off to one side. “That looks like something.”
Sarah guided the armored truck over to the spot the other woman had indicated and slowed to a stop. Putting the truck in neutral, she asked, “Wanna get out and take a look?”
Serafina nodded. “Yeah. There’s not enough room to squeeze by in this thing without forcing the other vehicles out of the way, and that will make a lot of noise. Let’s make sure we’re not doing that for nothing.”
“Hopefully we can find something that confirms they went this way..”
“Exactly.”
Surviving Rage | Book 4 Page 31