Grasp Grace: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (The Pulse Book 2)

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Grasp Grace: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (The Pulse Book 2) Page 6

by Hayden James


  The tires screeched as they sought to make traction with the street. When the friction of the rubber tires griped the ground, the car propelled itself toward the Bubbas. As the car hurled in reverse toward the brothers, three of them moved out of the way, scooting their motorcycles out of the path of the vehicle. “Goodness! We are going to hit one of these guys,” announced Liam. “Brace yourself.” Liam noticed that one of the Bubbas was more stubborn than the others. Prue touched Chewy into her chest, cradling him with her arms.

  The hurling vehicle met the stubborn Bubba brother with the loudest thud as the car careened into the motorcycle and brother.

  “Oh, dear!” Prue shouted. “That was loud! Is he all right?”

  “Not sure,” replied Liam looking at the motorcycle and body of the Bubba brother sprawled out on the concrete. Liam stomped on the brake, spinning the car around heading in the opposite direction of where the Bubbas where.

  In the rear-view mirror Liam watched the three brothers tend to the one who laid on the ground, motionless. “Shit! He’s not getting up,” shouted Liam as he continued to drive away. “I didn’t want to kill him,” lamented Liam. “I was hoping he would get out of the way. I hope he’s not dead.”

  “Damn it!” Liam shouted a few miles down the same road.

  “They caught up to us, didn’t they?” Prue asked.

  “Yeah, the three are right behind us. And they have their guns!” Liam shouted, panicked at the sight of the three Bubbas, seeking vengeance for their fallen brother.

  Bang. A shot echoed, but missed the moving car. “One is coming on your side, Prue. I need you to duck,” commanded Liam. Prue took Chewy and ducked her head below the window. The Bubba shot at the car, bang, bang, bang. The brother missed Liam and Prue, but several of the bullets went into the engine.

  Liam saw street signs that alerted him that they would soon be going over a bridge over the blankety blank river. “I know what I’m going to do. This pest won’t leave us alone,” shouted Liam.

  As the car went over the bridge, the Bubba continued to ride alongside of the vehicle, attempting to shoot at the car and to incapacitate Liam. Liam edged the vehicle closer to the wall of the bridge, making the Bubba ride inches away from short retainer wall. Liam guided the car closer and closer to the wall, forcing the Bubba to ride even closer to the wall. Then Liam swerved the car, nearly hitting the Bubba. Out of an automatic response, the Bubba served his motorcycle closer to the wall, losing control and falling off the side of the bridge.

  “Whoa!” Prue shouted. “That must be a long way down,” she concluded as she turned her head to watch the bike and the Bubba both fall into the river. As a result of Liam swerving the car, the car could not handle the force because it was off balance, and it barreled into a stalled out car stopped on the other side of the bridge.

  “Damn it!” Liam shouted, panic-stricken from what would come next. “Get the gun!” Liam shouted to Prue as he tried to back the car up out of the collision with the stalled car. Prue reached into the back seat and got Liam’s back pack. She took out the gun.

  “Let me show you how to chamber it,” Liam said, cocking it. Liam threw the car into reverse and backed the car up from the stalled out car

  Putting the car into drive, he and continued down the bridge, taking the road after the bridge ended.

  Another Bubba had caught up with the Chevy, driving even with them. Prue held the gun and shot at the Bubba brother on the motorcycle. She did not know how to shoot the gun, and the bullets went wide.

  In retaliation, the Bubba shot back, but his shot was not refined either. He aimed for Prue, but he missed and the bullet went into the engine, and the engine began to rattle.

  Soon the rattling engine came to a stop as the bullet severing the serpentine belt. Liam frantically shouted, “Prue, give me the gun. This car is toast,” as he felt the engine rattling and smoke coming out of the sides of the hood door.

  Before Prue handed Liam the gun, she took another shot. Bang. She landed the bullet square in the Bubba’s chest, propelling him off of the bike and landing on the hard concrete. “Nice shot!” Liam shouted, surprised that her precision improved with such little time.

  “I saw him aiming for you. I did not have time to give you the gun before he got the shot off,” replied Prue, handing Liam the gun while she sat in the passenger seat.

  “Quick thinking!” Exclaimed Liam as he got out of the car to take a look at the engine.

  “Liam! Look out!” Prue shouted. As Liam almost had the hood open, the fourth Bubba caught up to them. Liam looked over his shoulder to find the largest of the Bubbas riding up behind him.

  The fourth Bubba had caught Liam off guard since he had thought they lost him. With his back to the Bubba, Liam became conflicted on what to do.

  “Looks like it is just you and me,” seethed the Bubba. “Now I am going to kill you and take your girl and have a great night with her for retribution.”

  Liam’s body surged with rage at the thought of him taking Prue. He found it hard to gain composure. He could feel the gun the Bubba pointed at him and his feeling was confirmed in the reflection in the chrome on the 1957 Chevy Bel Air. The Bubba held his pistol in a firm stance, pointing it directly at Liam’s back. Time was of the essence, and he did not have a moment to spare if we were to make his move.

  Looking at the reflection of the Bubba in the chrome, Liam took his gun from where he kept its in the front waistband. His jacket concealing his movement. Once the gun was in his right hand, he wrapped his arm around his front, so the gun was between his left side and his left arm.

  Liam knew that him hitting this shot was slim to none, but it could throw the Bubba off, allowing him to have enough time to turn around and shoot the Bubba. He did his best to aim the barrel of the pistol at where the reflection appeared to be standing. He squeezed the trigger with a steady and firm grip. His hand recoiled, hitting the vintage vehicle, and he dropped his gun.

  Liam panic as he was without his weapon, his heart raced as he feared he would be soon shot. Grabbing for his gun he stood in his stance to shoot at the Bubba, only to find the Bubba laying dead on the ground. “Wow! I got him,” mused Liam.

  “Great shot!” Prue confirmed from the passenger side of the vehicle.

  With the last Bubba dead, Liam resumed looking at the engine of the ’57 Chevy Bel Air, only to find that he was not sure what he was looking at. Despite knowing how to shoot guns, hunt, and some survival techniques, Liam never learned anything about cars. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the body of the Bubba that Prue shot start to move. Surely, he could not still be alive? Thinking his mind was playing tricks on him, Liam went back to looking at the engine.

  From out of nowhere, a bullet grazed the pant leg of Liam while he was hunched over examining the engine. Startled, he jumped straight up, bewildered by where the bullet had came from.

  Gazing at the bodies, he saw the Bubba that Prue shot was sitting up, aiming his gun at him. By the time his mind registered what was occurring, it was too late. Bang. The Bubba landed a shot right in the side of Liam’s leg.

  Prue grew hysterical from witnessing Liam get shot. “Liam!” she screamed a bloodcurdling pitch came from her throat. Liam crouched down, placing his hand over the wound to stop the blood from spewing out.

  “Damn it!” Liam shouted as he reached for his gun. Blood poured out of Liam’s shin, and all he had was his hand to stop the bleeding. While kneeling and holding his shin with his non-firing hand, Liam took aim with the pistol at the Bubba who sat upright.

  Just as the Bubba was going to get a third shot off, Liam aimed and slowly pulled the trigger, keeping his breathing under control. The bullet landed square in the Bubbas’ chest, sending him back, flat on the ground. This time, the Bubba was dead.

  In a hysterical panic, Prue rushed out of the car to check on Liam. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  Liam took th
e bottom of his shirt and tore six inches off of it. “Here, let me help,” assured Prue, tying the makeshift tunicate around the Liam’s shin, where the bullet grazed him.

  “It’s not that bad. Thankfully, the bullet went through,” explained Liam.

  “Can you walk on it?” Prue asked.

  “Kind of. It hurts when I put weight on it.”

  “Here, lean on me,” suggested Prue as she pulled Liam’s arm over her shoulder. She guided him to the passenger seat where she had sat.

  After Prue got Liam down into the seat, she said, “Let me look at the engine.”

  “You know about engines?” Liam asked.

  “My dad was a mechanic, I might know a thing or two,” she said with a smirk and a wink before going over to the opened hood.

  Several moments passed, and after Prue finished inspecting the engine, she came back around to where Liam was sitting, sulking in his pain and agony. Liam saw that disappointed look on Prue’s face and said, “I guessing, it’s not good news.”

  “No, it’s not. The block is shot… Literally. There’s no way the engine will start. This car won’t be going anywhere, anytime soon,” she replied.

  “Goodness. I really wanted to return this car to Mr. Patterson after we made it to my grandpa’s,” lamented Liam. Frustration overpowered Liam, and tears formed in his eyes.

  Noticing Liam was at the end of his rope Prue crouched down to where Liam sat and said, “It will be all right,” she affirmed. “Thanks to Mr. Patterson, we got this far, and we don’t have to worry about the Bubbas anymore.”

  “I know, I know. He was far too kind to us. I’m upset that his car got destroyed. What are we going to do now?” Liam asked. This was a rare instance for Liam not to have a plan. He had been known for always being two steps ahead and having a strategy. Liam was on the verge of despair and the disaster was wearing on him.

  Prue looked around at the dead Bubbas. “Let’s use the Bubba’s motorcycles,” she suggested.

  Liam appeared to be distraught. Noticing this, Prue asked, “Thought that was a good idea?”

  “Oh, it’s a fabulous idea,” replied Liam.

  “Then, what is it?”

  “I don’t know how to ride one,” Liam responded reluctantly.

  “You don’t know how to ride a motorcycle?” Prue asked, seeming surprised by that notion.

  “I never learned. I’ve always wanted to,” explained Liam with his eyes to the ground. He looked up at Prue and continued, “My mom has always been very overprotective of me, and when I got to Nashville, I barely had any money to make rent, let alone get a motorcycle or car. That’s why I lived close to downtown, I could walk to work or hitch a ride for gigs.”

  “Well, then I guess I going to have to teach you,” Prue said, grinning. “Here, let me help you over to one.” Prue held out her arm so Liam could grab on to it. Getting himself up with Prue’s help, Liam put his arm around Prue’s neck and leaned on her as they walked over to one of the Bubbas’ bikes.

  Prue helped Liam onto the motorcycle that laid on the ground after getting it up onto its wheels. She then went over to where the other Bubba laid dead and picked up his bike from the ground. Turning it on, the motorcycle produced the loudest echoing sound imaginable.

  The thunderous, throaty growl of the motorcycle reminded Liam of the sound that they had tried to escape for the past two days. A warning sign to hide or take cover before they could be caught by the Bubbas.

  It was clear that the Bubbas had replaced the exhaust system and muffler with an aftermarket system consisting of only an exhaust pipe without a muffler of any kind, enabling the bike to be heard over a long distance.

  The custom motorcycles that the Bubbas had all lacked mufflers, having their exhaust pipes the same diameter from one end to other end, so they would be the loudest rider when they pulled up next to another motorcyclist. When Prue started the engine of the motorcycle, her body became flooded from the vibrations of the unmuffled engine. She rode over to where Liam stood, seated on his motorcycle.

  Prue pulled up right next to him and cut the engine. She then explained, “Your right hand is responsible for acceleration and braking.” She modeled with her wrist, moving it up and down. “You apply the throttle with a little twist.”

  Liam took his right hand and followed Prue’s instructions. She continued, “This hand also controls the front brakes. The lever is located in front of the throttle, just like a bicycle.” Prue modeled grasping the lever and Liam followed. “You want to be delicate with this brake. Be very smooth. If you yank the brake lever too hard, the front brakes can lock up, and you could skid or crash. Your right foot controls the rear brake.” Prue showed Liam where that brake was. Liam took a moment to find it on his motorcycle and followed along.

  Prue continued with her tutorial, “In most cases, you will want to apply the rear brake first with your right foot. Then ease off and slowly apply the front brake to make an effective stop. These are heavy cruisers, you going to need to rely mostly on your rear brake.”

  Liam nodded in response and Prue continued, “Now, we must talk about the clutch lever. This is the left-hand grip. The clutch on a motorcycle does the same thing that a car’s clutch does. It engages and disengages the transmission and engine. When you squeeze the lever, you are effectively putting the bike in neutral. When you let go, you have engaged the engine and transmission.”

  The clutch aspect seemed to make sense to Liam since he knew how to drive a stick shift. Prue elaborated on shifting, “Motorcycles have the same operating principle of manual transmission cars, except they do it differently and you are going to do it with your left foot. The shift pattern is called one down, five up. That means that first gear is down from neutral and the remaining five gears are up from neutral. Each time you shift, you want to engage the clutch. You are going to first disengage the clutch, then shift the gear, and then slowly re-engage the clutch.”

  Liam took a moment to examine the shift lever on the left side of the bike. “It seems simple enough,” he replied, not wanting to let Prue in on his nervousness.

  “Well, let’s get these bikes started,” said Prue. Prue showed Liam how to slowly kick on the kick-lever before turning on the fuel valve and twisting the throttle twice to Fien the compression stroke before kicking again. After several kicks, her bike was roaring. Liam did the same as Prue, but had to kick a few more times before his bike went on.

  With the thunderous growl of the bike engines, Liam struggled to get his bike into gear and to keep balance, looking like a giraffe taking his first steps. “This is a little harder than I thought it would be,” he admitted.

  “You’ll get the hang of it,” affirmed Prue. Sure enough, moving at a rolling pace, he got the motorcycle into first gear, engaging and releasing the clutch. Then he thought back to Prue’s instructions and could get the bike into second and then third gear. “See you got it,” Prue stated riding alongside of him. “Remember to roll on the throttle slightly,” she reminded.

  Liam disengaged the clutch by squeezing the clutch lever completely before selecting fourth gear with his left foot. He twisted his right wrist toward himself, gradually releasing the clutch lever with his left hand. The bike moved smoothly into fourth gear and the two were off, heading down the US-70E, continuing on their route to Dwight’s compound.

  Chapter Seven

  William Conner

  Victoriaville, Indiana

  3:38 PM

  “Are you sure about this,” Vince whispered to William who sat in the passenger seat.

  “No,” answered William. “But, we will need more gas soon. Especially if we are going to make it to Tucker Hollow.”

  “I don’t dispute that,” acknowledged Vince. “This guy seems to be a little seedy.”

  “Little?” William retorted.

  William followed closely behind the dirt bike. The mechanic led them down a residential road with several homes that sat on at least three acres, spread out with large yar
ds. The dirt bike pulled into a dirt driveway of a single-story ranch house that sat on five acres of land. It was dark, but William could make out the red paneling of the house, and found it quaint and charming. Perhaps this guy wasn’t so bad after all, he just wanted a fair deal.

  The mechanic turned off the dirt bike and engaged the kickstand and dismounted the bike just was William, Vince, and Gary got out of the van. He walked over to the three men who looked bewildered as to what they were to do. “So, guys, this is what I need. Follow me,” the mechanic said motioning the men to the side of his house. He led them to the backyard where his property backed up to a running stream. The babbling sound of the moving water soothed William, and he seemed to be placed back in his mind to a simpler and happy time. He thought about the times that he would go fishing with his dad. He enjoyed those times, because with his dad, they were few and far between.

  As they stood in the large backyard, the mechanic explained, “My name is Eric.”

  “Please to meet you Eric. My name is William, and this is Gary and Vince.”

  “Please to meet you.” Eric surveyed the land before he explained further. “I need you guys to help me finish digging out this root cellar,” Eric said, pointing to a place where he had started to dig, but hadn’t gotten too far. Then he pointed over to the fence around his property. “I am also going to need you to reinforce the fence. I have around five acres, so that will take some time. I’m thinking this should all take at least two days to finish with all of us working. Then I will install the tow winch and give you guys all the gas that you can carry. Shall we get started?”

  “Sounds good, man,” replied Vince.

  “The tools are in the shed. We are going to need a few shovels and a mattock to break through the topsoil and roots,” explained Eric. Gary and Vince nodded and went to the tool shed to get the shovels and mattock.

 

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