Outlaws of the Midwest | Book 3 | Havoc Endures

by Hunt, Jack

  Havoc Endures

  Outlaws of the Midwest Book Three

  Jack Hunt

  Direct Response Publishing

  Copyright © 2020 by Jack Hunt

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to an online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Havoc Endures: Outlaws of the Midwest Book 3 is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Outlaws of the Midwest series

  Chaos Erupts

  Panic Ensues

  Havoc Endures

  The Cyber Apocalypse series

  As Our World Ends

  As Our World Falls

  As Our World Burns

  The Agora Virus series

  Phobia

  Anxiety

  Strain

  The War Buds series

  War Buds 1

  War Buds 2

  War Buds 3

  Camp Zero series

  State of Panic

  State of Shock

  State of Decay

  Renegades series

  The Renegades

  The Renegades Book 2: Aftermath

  The Renegades Book 3: Fortress

  The Renegades Book 4: Colony

  The Renegades Book 5: United

  The Wild Ones Duology

  The Wild Ones Book 1

  The Wild Ones Book 2

  The EMP Survival series

  Days of Panic

  Days of Chaos

  Days of Danger

  Days of Terror

  Against All Odds Duology

  As We Fall

  As We Break

  The Amygdala Syndrome Duology

  Unstable

  Unhinged

  Survival Rules series

  Rules of Survival

  Rules of Conflict

  Rules of Darkness

  Rules of Engagement

  Lone Survivor series

  All That Remains

  All That Survives

  All That Escapes

  All That Rises

  Mavericks series

  Mavericks: Hunters Moon

  Time Agents series

  Killing Time

  Single Novels

  Blackout

  Defiant

  Darkest Hour

  Final Impact

  The Year Without Summer

  The Last Storm

  The Last Magician

  The Lookout

  Class of 1989

  For my Family

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  A Plea

  Readers Team

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Cole County, Missouri

  Rick “Mad Dog” Mcgiven screamed in agony as he yanked the arrow out the back of his right thigh. His eyes bulged as he stared into the darkness before he hobbled away from a large oak, frantically unloading several rounds behind him. He was still a good mile from his ranch. If he could make it there, he stood a chance of surviving.

  Gritting his teeth, he clung to his bloody leg, moving as fast as he could. Looking back over his shoulder he couldn’t see anyone, just dense woodland. Not looking where he was going, he stumbled, his knees drove into the dirt.

  Another spike of pain shot through his body.

  Fear of capture overwhelmed him, dissolving what courage he had.

  He didn’t want to die. He’d lived through three tours in the Middle East, survived five years after the fall of America, and faced numerous trials and tribulations. He wasn’t going out this way. Not now. Not by the hands of another American.

  Regret washed over him. The memories came back, torturing his decision. That final moment when he’d contemplated selling out Gunnar to the PLA. His wife, Lucy, had warned him not to do it. It would only end badly. She’d been the voice of reason. She was right. Why didn’t he listen to her? He should have expected this but he’d heard that all was good, that he was in the clear, he was safe.

  Rick clambered to his feet and soldiered on.

  Why didn’t he see this?

  Thirty minutes earlier, he’d been waiting on the outskirts of Eugene for the delivery of his reward, a huge bounty of food, alcohol, tools, supplies, even ammo. It would have been a massive haul. Well-deserved.

  Damn it! He thought he was out of the woods. He should have been. Mayor Morgan had reassured him that nothing bad would happen, that the Hunter had been dealt with, and that days from now his family would be welcomed into Camdenton where he would serve as part of the city council.

  It was meant to be a step in the right direction. A means of survival in a country that had been quickly overwhelmed by enemy troops.

  Maybe back when he was a youngster, he would have had the gall to fight back, to stand shoulder to shoulder with militia and die with his boots on but not now, not after the way he was treated upon leaving the military.

  Thrown away. He was expendable. All his accomplishments had been forgotten.

  No, this wasn’t personal, it was about survival now. Nothing more.

  For once he was thinking of numero uno.

  Even as the military Humvee rolled up, he didn’t think for a second that it would lead to this — to finding himself being hunted.

  But that’s exactly what happened.

  They’d waited on the outskirts of Eugene for the better part of an hour after being contacted by a messenger that Morgan had come through on his promise and wanted to deliver his reward.

  Looking back now, he should have seen it.

  The lone vehicle.

  The remote location.

  Four men in collaborator uniforms who had acted as a distraction.

  When the Hunter took out the two guys he’d brought with him for additional protection, Rick had darted for the coverage of trees.

  It happened so fast. One second they were standing beside him, the next clinging to an arrow that had gone through their necks.

  He’d tried to go for his horse but an ar
row to his shoulder and one to his leg had prevented him. That’s when he bolted. That’s when he found himself running through the forest, trying to escape a threat that he couldn’t see.

  At some point, out of breath, fearful for his life, Rick had even yelled into the void, asking for forgiveness, pleading for mercy, but he’d gotten no reply.

  He thought back to the collaborators and how they just stood there and watched, saying nothing. They didn’t fire on him even though they were carrying, nor did they come to his aid which made him realize they were in on it.

  Now, as he crossed a tilled field, he could see his ranch in the distance. A blip of hope on the horizon. The silhouette of home, safety. Just a little further and he could raise the alarm and over twenty people would rush to his aid.

  “Help!” he hollered.

  Even at such a distance, he figured they might hear him. He checked the magazine of his gun. Two rounds. That’s all he had left. Shit.

  He slowed to catch his breath, his lungs on fire.

  There was no one behind him and he was too far from the tree line for an arrow to reach him. For a few seconds, he thought he was in the clear. He even stopped running and pressed on at a normal walking pace, figuring that the Hunter had decided he’d had enough punishment for one night.

  He’d heard the rumors that the Hunter had left Americans alive. Maybe this was it. Maybe he’d inflicted enough torture and leaving him alive was his way of telling him to never work for the PLA again.

  That notion was soon shattered by the thump of helicopter rotors.

  Fear gripped him.

  Rick picked up his pace as he looked above, and squinted.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  The rotors got louder as the Black Hawk came into view. A spotlight burst forth over him and the surrounding trees and field. A shot of panic caused him to burst into a sprint, ignoring his pain. His clothes flapped in the wind, and he could barely breathe as the helicopter made its descent. He turned and fired up a round but it did little to deter it.

  Another gunshot followed and then a click.

  He was out.

  No. No!

  He cursed loudly, pressing on for but a few more seconds before an arrow struck him, this one spearing him between the shoulder blades. His legs buckled as another lanced through his good leg.

  Screaming in agony, he rolled, excruciating pain coursing through him,

  Around him a cushion of air ballooned outward, spitting dirt up in every direction, some of it going in his eyes. He brought a forearm up as the chopper lowered and the dark silhouette of someone spilled out. Rick cried for help, hoping those back at the ranch might hear and come to his aid, but they wouldn’t, they couldn’t hear him.

  He was still too far away, and his voice was lost in the noise of the rotors.

  The dark figure lumbered toward him, a bow in hand. He closed the distance until he was looming over him. The light from the helicopter and the moon skewed his vision, making the Hunter seem bigger than he was. He’d heard the stories of the Hunter, the savior of the people, the ghost.

  He wouldn’t harm him. He couldn’t. He was American.

  Turning onto his back, Rick looked up at him as the Hunter tugged down the mask covering the lower half of his face. “You know, I was hoping that she was wrong. Arianna. But when I saw you show up, greedy hands outstretched, ready to receive your reward, I knew she was telling the truth,” Miles said.

  “I… I…” Rick stumbled over his words, unable to connect them.

  “Don’t!” the Hunter interrupted him. “There is nothing you can say that will change this now.”

  “But I’m American.”

  “Yeah, yeah you were. Which is what makes this even harder to do.”

  Without another word said, the Hunter lifted his bow and unleashed a third arrow into his chest, penetrating deep into his heart. He turned and headed back to the helicopter, leaving Rick to suck in his last breath. Death didn’t come instantly, it came on slowly, one light blending into another. The glow of the helicopter getting brighter and brighter until it swallowed him.

  1

  LIBERTY RADIO

  9:45 A.M.

  MY FELLOW AMERICANS. THIS IS LIBERTY RADIO COMING TO YOU FROM AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION IN THE GREAT MIDWEST… FIVE YEARS AGO OUR COUNTRY TREMBLED AND WAS TORN ASUNDER BY WAR… NONE OF US COULD HAVE FORESEEN THE IMPACT…

  WHEN THE ENEMY RAINED DOWN FIRE UPON US AND BURIED US BELOW THE STENCH OF DEATH… TRULY THIS WAS THE DARKEST DAY IN HISTORY…

  BUT I COME TODAY TO BRING YOU GOOD NEWS… WITH HOPE ON MY LIPS…WITH COURAGE IN MY HEART… FRIENDS, THE TIDE IS TURNING… THAT’S RIGHT, WE MAY HAVE CHOKED UPON SMOKE AND BLOOD AND SUFFERED GREAT LOSS… WE MAY HAVE STUMBLED AND LOST OUR WAY… BUT TODAY I TELL YOU… WE ARE CRAWLING BACK FROM THE HOLES THEY FORCED US INTO… FIGHTING TO RECLAIM WHAT IS OURS… WHAT IS YOURS… YOUR TOWN… YOUR STATE… YOUR COUNTRY… AND YOUR FREEDOM…

  ALTHOUGH MANY OF YOU HAVE LOST HEART AND GIVEN UP AFTER HEARING REPORTS FROM THE ENEMY… REPORTS OF DESTROYED CITIES, TOWNS, SHORELINES… AND SOME OF THIS IS TRUE… TODAY, I TELL YOU THIS… DON’T BELIEVE THEIR BLARING PROPAGANDA… DON’T BELIEVE THE ENDLESS LIES…

  DON’T BELIEVE THEM FOR ONE SECOND.

  THEY WANT TO SQUASH YOUR SPIRIT… STEAL YOUR FIRE… AND CRUSH YOUR HOPE.

  DON’T LET THEM.

  FOR I’M HERE TO TELL YOU THAT WHAT WAS ONCE IS NO MORE…

  THEY ARE THE ONES LOSING THIS WAR… THEY ARE THE ONES BEING PUSHED BACK… THEY ARE THE ONES WHO ARE AFRAID…

  MY FELLOW AMERICANS, THE HOUR OF VICTORY IS UPON US…

  OUR OFFSHORE MILITARY IS GAINING GROUND… OUR MILITIA HAS STOPPED THEIR PLANS… AND OUR COUNTRYMEN HAVE BROUGHT THE WAR TO THEIR DOORSTEP…

  BUT THE BATTLE IS NOT OVER…

  OUR MOST CHALLENGING HOUR IS UPON US… AND IF WE ARE TO SURVIVE… IT WILL TAKE ALL OF US, EVERY HAND, EVERY LIFE…

  FOR WHAT WAS ONCE OUR HOME… SO IT SHALL BE AGAIN… DON’T LET THEM STEAL ONE MORE DAY, ONE MORE HOUR OR ONE MORE SECOND FROM YOU…

  SO TO THE BRAVE FEW LISTENING TO THIS BROADCAST, I IMPLORE YOU… TAKE UP ARMS AND FIGHT BACK…

  AND ALWAYS REMEMBER…

  UNTIL YOUR DYING BREATH… NEVER SURRENDER.

  2

  Zhang Li

  Camdenton

  One month later

  Enveloped by the lower arm of the Lake of the Ozarks, Camdenton looked disturbingly different from the town she’d left behind. As a deep orange horizon lifted into the dome of a blue sky, Zhang Li observed the changes with interest. Gone were the chain-link fences that surrounded the city limits, the heavily manned checkpoints, and threatening military presence on patrol.

  Under the charge of General Yong, she’d been sent to confirm the report of Mayor Morgan Jefferies’ demise, and oversee the transferring of authority to Chief Felix Vargas if it was true.

  So much disinformation was being distributed by radio broadcasts, it was hard to know what was true and what was put out there by the resistance to strike another blow to Chinese and Russian troops. Since word had spread, more Americans throughout the Midwest were finding the courage to take back towns. This meant being even more cautious.

  With so much at stake, Zhang had made sure not to travel alone that day.

  The PLA truck slowed its approach as they got closer to the city limits. It was accompanied by twenty soldiers on horseback that galloped ahead to scout and ensure safe passage. On the journey down from Chicago, she’d expected an ambush as it had become the most common method of taking out troops. Fortunately, they’d only encountered one group in a small town fifteen miles from Camdenton and they were easy to wipe out.

  The small community was quiet that morning as they drove at cruising speed through the streets toward City Hall.

  As they rolled to a stop outside the one-story building, Zhang noticed the bright red and yellow Chinese flag was still draped down the side. That was a good sign. Had that not been there
, there would have been hell to pay. Regardless, they still had a lot of explaining to do.

  Soldiers dismounted their horses as she exited the truck and took a moment to work out the kinks in her muscles. After spending a few minutes smoothing out her collaborator uniform she approached the doors of City Hall. She’d come a long way in a short time since Demar had introduced her to Yong. Her command of the Chinese language and her story of being adopted by the Nelson family had caught his attention. She wasn’t sure if her rise through the ranks, bypassing many others who had served far longer than her, was because Yong pitied her or saw potential. Either way, he’d taken her under his wing, given her opportunities and shared information that few would ever be privy to.

  Entering the spacious lobby, she was met by collaborators who informed her that Vargas wasn’t due in for at least another hour. Unable to communicate due to the distance between Chicago and here, he wouldn’t have known about her arrival. There were multiple reasons they kept him in the dark. Yong wanted to see who was running the show, what changes had been made to determine if they were the right person for the job.

  “Then you better go wake him up,” she replied in a stern tone before storming past them, tiredness getting the better of her. Entering the former mayor’s office, she looked around and noticed that nothing had changed. Besides the lack of PLA soldiers and a few subtle changes in town, everything else seemed to be in place.

  “Wait outside,” she told four soldiers, then she lowered the blinds and sank into a plush leather chair behind the desk. She coughed hard a few times, her ear throbbing from a recent earache. The long shifts were catching up with her and her health was suffering for it. Out of sight of the soldiers, her shoulders relaxed, she breathed out nervous tension and let go of the mask she’d had to wear since aligning herself with the PLA. It was only in times when she was alone did she let her guard down.