Wretched Retribution

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Wretched Retribution Page 4

by E. G. Michaels

“I said, keep moving!” Walker yelled. “Sams needs our help.

  Foster picked up the pace and began a quick jog toward the vehicles. As he moved, he continued to actively scan for any potential threats.

  “More incoming!” Walker shouted. “We’re drawing a party.”

  Foster risked a glance over his shoulder and saw five more Reapers had come rushing around the corner of the furthest restrooms. They were still about four hundred yards away but were charging toward them. The Reapers split away from their pack and veered around to the opposite side of the decorative walls and pillars. Foster heard Walker swear out loud and doubled his efforts to find the incoming Reapers weaving in and out of sight. He spotted one emerging from a wall and rushed a shot, scoring a hit to the creature’s leg. The Reaper stumbled, collided into a pillar, and fell onto the ground. Foster saw the monster stagger up to its feet. He fired once, drilling it in the head and putting it down for good. He heard gunfire to his left and saw another Reaper drop in front of him. The creature had managed to close within a hundred yards before Walker nailed it with a headshot.

  “Move it, Foster!” Walker shouted.

  Foster glanced back toward the vehicles and saw Sams, Lizzy, and Charles firing at four different Reaper packs charging toward them.

  “Hurry,” Amanda shouted. The doctor was positioned behind the driver’s side of the Tuscon and had joined the firefight, too.

  Foster quickened his pace. He sighted through his rifle’s scope on a Reaper that had stopped its charge short. The creature moved from a hunched-over position to an upright one and began to pound its chest. Foster saw the Reaper begin to open its mouth, and he immediately fired. He saw his bullet exit the back of the creature’s mouth, and the Reaper dropped before it could utter a sound. Foster continued moving toward the vehicles, firing twice more before he reached the side of the Suburban. He pulled next to Sams and continued to fire at incoming hostiles.

  “Why is it every time you leave I end up in a gunfight?” Sams yelled.

  “You're welcome to go scavenging next time instead,” Foster yelled back.

  “And miss out on all the fun?”

  “Covering!” Walker shouted. “Fall back to the vehicles.”

  A pair of Reapers managed to reach the passenger side of the Suburban. As they began to climb up onto the hood, Foster and Sams fired as one. The demonic duo collapsed dead on the corner of the SUV.

  “Get in,” Foster yelled. “I’ll cover you.” He saw Sams backtrack, and a moment later heard the driver’s door open and close. The Suburban’s engine began to turn, and then he heard it roar to life. Foster continued to fire and move backward until he reached the rear door. He fired twice, scoring a double tap to the neck of a nearby Reaper. Foster yanked the door open and jumped in. As soon as his butt hit the seat, he lunged back, grabbed the door, and pulled it shut a moment before the Suburban began moving.

  “Did everybody get out?” Foster yelled.

  Sams shouted, “Hold on.”

  Foster saw a bloody Reaper, standing wobbly on its feet, a moment before The Suburban’s front end slammed into it. The creature pinballed sideways and crashed somewhere out of sight as the vehicle continued to accelerate.

  “Did everybody get out?” Foster yelled. “Is everybody okay?”

  “I don’t know. I think so,” Sams said. “Can you shut it for a minute while I try to get us the hell out of here?”

  Foster immediately went silent. He looked out the side window and saw hundreds of Reapers flooding the rest area from the opposite direction. He turned his attention to the front window. As they headed to the rest area exit, Foster saw a small white building. There was a bloody Reaper perched on top of it, gesturing for its packmates to follow them. Two seconds later, the scout was growing distant in the rear view, and they were pulling away from the rest of their pursuers.

  “Holy shit, that was close,” Sams said.

  Foster felt the Suburban continue to accelerate. “Too close,” he admitted. “I’d say we got lucky.”

  “Nothing wrong with lucky,” Sams answered. “It beats good but dead every time.”

  “Give me the walkie,” Foster said. “I want to find out about the rest of the group.”

  Sams reached across the front seat, picked up the walkie-talkie, and offered it to Foster without taking his eyes off the road.

  Foster pressed the transmit button. “Give me a sitrep,” Foster said. “Any one hurt or missing?”

  “Lizzy and I are fine,” Walker answered. “No injuries.”

  “Amanda and I are uninjured,” Charles replied. “Although, with the way the good doctor is currently driving, I’m not feeling confident about our chances of avoiding an accident.”

  Foster chuckled. “We’re clear of the packs now. Might be a good idea for all of us do a more reasonable speed. Sams and I are uninjured, too.”

  “Glad to hear everybody is present and accounted for,” Walker said. “Next stop, Rehoboth Beach.”

  Chapter Four

  It had been several days since their transformation at Bergstrom Biogenics. Giles and Haas had slowly made their way from the city of Brotherly Love to someplace far less populated. There had been several stops along the way when the need to feed had become unbearable. Each one of them found a victim and ate without pity or remorse. Eventually they had come to an abandoned warehouse in Delaware. It was a place Giles knew about from his previous life. The building would serve as a temporary home for them and their growing pack.

  They hadn’t planned on having a pack. It was purely by accident that they discovered how to transform humans into their own loyal followers. There was so much about their new abilities that neither one of them understood. If he was being completely honest with himself, Giles had a feeling they had barely begun to tap their full potential.

  “I feel like we're hiding like rats,” Haas growled. “We should be out there adding more numbers to our packs and expanding our territory.”

  “I disagree,” Giles said. “It's likely the humans are hunting those of us who have turned.”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard. Some of the newer followers had images in their mind. Things they saw on television or in person that suggest there's a lot of transformed ones out there.”

  “Transformed like us? Or the mindless minions we can create?”

  “They’re not mindless.”

  “Really?” Giles challenged. “Watch this.” He mentally reached out to his followers in the warehouse.

  “Stand on one leg and hop in place,” he commanded.

  Dozens of minions began bouncing up and down on one leg.

  Giles motioned to the followers. “I rest my case.”

  “All it means is they will follow our command,” Haas said. “That’s not a bad thing for us.”

  “If you say so.”

  “We should be out there. Gathering more followers. Using our combined power to control things. Maybe collecting followers that someone else created.”

  “Controlling someone else’s soldiers could be a problem. We don’t know who's leading them,” Giles countered. “They could be looking for war.”

  Haas chuckled. “Scared of the boogeyman again?” he said. “I’m telling you, we don’t have anything to be afraid of.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Not totally, but—”

  “Then we have to assume there are others like us and prepare accordingly.”

  “Look, we've seen with our own pack that most humans don’t turn like us.”

  “Uh-huh,” Giles said. “Don’t get cocky. Just when you think you are the biggest badass in the world, someone else comes along and takes you out.”

  “Maybe. But it won’t be any of these things. They lose their ability to think and act and do like us,” Haas said. He pointed to the still hopping followers. “Can you make them stop? It’s distracting as hell.”

  “Sorry,” Giles said. He quickly sent a mental halt command, and the minions immediately sto
pped bouncing.

  “We need to find out who’s in charge of these larger packs,” Haas said.

  “I agree,” Giles said, “but we need to be careful on how we do it. We do not want to be forced to submit to a much larger group.”

  “Yes, that would be bad.”

  “I still think we need to stay out of sight for now and learn what we can from the shadows.”

  “We need more soldiers,” Haas growled. “Our current plan doesn't give us many new ones to choose from.”

  “Perhaps I will pay my friend a visit. See what he can do to supply more candidates to us.”

  “Be careful,” Haas said. “I don’t trust your friend.”

  Giles chuckled. “Your instincts are good. He’s a liar and a crook. But he’s predictable. More importantly, he’s scared of what I’ll do to him if he double-crosses us.”

  Chapter Five

  They’d managed to put three miles of distance behind them, and so far nothing seemed to be pursuing them. Foster heard his walkie-talkie chirp, and then Walker said, “Let’s switch up the order.”

  “Any particular reason why?” Foster asked.

  “Good operational practice. It will also give you two a break,” Walker replied. “No point in you having to act as point man the whole way.”

  “He’s getting bored,” Foster and Sams said in unison.

  Foster chuckled softly. He counted to two, then pressed the transmit button and said, “Sounds good. Charles, you’ll pull over behind me and let Nick pass. Once he does, then follow him and I’ll take rear guard.”

  “Understood,” Charles said over the walkie.

  Five miles later, the four-lane roadway had transformed into more of a rural environment. There were cross streets nearly every block and scattering of different businesses along each side of the road. The area looked like it had been hastily abandoned. Foster could only imagine how busy this area must have been at one time. It was just another sign of the lifestyle they used to enjoy that the Reapers’ arrival had taken away from them.

  Up ahead, Foster saw Walker begin to slow down and stop at the top of a hill.

  “Problem?” Sams asked.

  “Maybe,” Foster replied. “I don’t think Nick would have stopped in the middle of the road for no reason.”

  The walkie-talkie came alive. “Guys, it’s a family,” Lizzy said. “It looks like they’re in trouble.”

  “I'm not sure if it's a good idea for us to stop,” Foster said. “They could already be infected. Once we stop, then we could be in danger, too.”

  “We need to do something,” Lizzy argued.

  “Can they be saved, or is it too dangerous?” Charles asked.

  “Walker, tell me what you see,” Foster said.

  “Disabled minivan. Looks like it’s missing a tire. Four Reapers around it.”

  “Can we easily remove the threat?” Foster asked.

  “Not sure. I’m going to roll past it slowly and see if that’s enough to draw them away.”

  Foster watched as Walker’s Land Cruiser began moving forward slowly. A moment later he saw the Tucson begin moving, too.

  “Dammit, Charles,” Foster muttered under his breath. The elderly man had mistakenly followed Walker. Now Foster felt committed to keep their caravan bunched closely and maintaining a protective rear guard. He took his foot off the brake and followed the other two vehicles.

  As he began to pass the disabled vehicle, he saw four Reapers still crowding against the driver’s side doors. Suddenly, a child appeared in the windshield and began to wave frantically.

  “Oh, hell,” Sams moaned a moment before the walkie came alive again.

  “They've got kids in there,” Lizzy shouted. “Malcolm, we need to do something.”

  “What do you think?” Foster asked.

  “I think it's a terrible idea,” Sams said, “but I'm not sure the rest of the group will agree with me. If there’s a chance they haven’t been infected and we do something, then that’s some bad karma shit to not help.”

  “Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Foster said. “Guys, let’s see what we can do to help.”

  “Nick thinks it’s a bad idea. I told him I don’t agree,” Lizzy said. “We need to help those kids.”

  “Guess who’s gonna get a lecture later,” Sams said under his breath. “It’s gonna be good old Nicholas.”

  “Not your problem or mine,” Foster said. He cued the walkie as he began to apply the brakes. “We need to draw them away from the minivan. If you have hollow point ammo, use that.” The specialized ammunition was known for not passing through the body of its intended target and hitting something else behind it. Using hollow points should allow them to minimize the chances of accidentally hitting the minivan.

  “Glocks only?” Sams asked. “I hope we don’t get into an extended firefight. I only have one extra magazine of hollow points.”

  “Four Reapers versus six shooters,” Foster pointed out. “If we’re lucky, we’ll end this fast.”

  “Malcolm, I’m not sure what type of ammunition we have,” Charles said. “I’m not sure how to check.”

  “I’ll explain later,” Foster said. “Why don’t Amanda and you rear guard and keep anything from jumping us from behind?”

  “Now it’s four against four,” Sams said.

  “I still like our chances,” Foster said. “Especially with Nick and us being part of those shooters.”

  “Great,” Sams said sarcastically. “Walker and I are gonna have to bail everyone else out of this mess.”

  “It’s not a mess,” Foster countered. “Have some faith, man.”

  “Uh-huh,” Sams muttered as he pulled out his Glock and checked the magazine load.

  “Pull up partially,” Walker said. “We’ll use the SUVs as cover.”

  “What?” Charles asked.

  “Pull halfway up next to Nick’s passenger door,” Foster said. “I’ll pull up on the other side. The vehicles will make it harder for the Reapers to reach us.”

  “Oh,” Charles said. “Why didn’t Nick just say that?”

  Sams swore under his breath.

  “Game on, Derrick,” Foster said. “Let’s go, Army.” Foster stepped on the brakes and brought the Suburban to a skidding stop near the Land Cruiser’s driver’s side. The passenger side door flew open and he saw Sams jump out. Foster grabbed his rifle, slung it over his shoulder, drew his Glock, and followed the former Ranger. He saw Sams move toward the back end of the vehicle and mirrored his position on the opposite side.

  Foster studied the scene in front of him. The Reapers were hovering between the disabled vehicle and their current location. It was almost as if they were unsure who they wanted to attack.

  Time to force their hand, Foster thought. He brought his Glock up to shooting position, aimed, and fired once at a Reaper furthest away from the disabled minivan. He wanted to ensure that his bullet was less likely to strike any of the people still in the trapped in the minivan. The bullet struck the Reaper center mass. It wasn’t a killing shot for a Reaper, but then Foster hadn’t been trying to hit a long-range shot with his service weapon. The creature let out an angry roar, slammed a fist twice against its chest, and immediately charged toward him with its packmates following closely behind.

  “Well, that pissed him off,” Sams said calmly.

  Foster turned his attention to the battle forming in front of him. He shifted his aim and let the lead Reaper get closer. When the monster was approximately twenty yards away, he fired once more. This time, the bullet flew true, striking the charging Reaper in the nose. The creature’s head snapped back, and it collapsed over dead.

  Foster shifted his position, aiming at the next closest Reaper, only to see it drop as someone else’s shot struck the monster in the face. Foster heard Sams fire twice, and another one of them dropped in place. Foster saw the remaining Reaper, and he shifted his aim toward it. As he did, the monster dropped onto all fours and began bounding toward him.

 
Foster heard a chorus of shots ring out as he saw the incoming Reaper take damage to its shoulder, neck, and chest. The monster stumbled and fell awkwardly onto its right arm. There was a loud snap as its elbow dislocated and the creature howled in pain. The joint was visibly deformed, and Foster fought back the bile rushing up his throat. He sighted on the disabled Reaper and fired once, striking the monster in the eye. This time the creature stayed down for good.

  Foster quickly scanned the area in front of him, looking for potential hostiles. Suddenly, there was a burst of gunfire behind him. Foster spun around in time to see a series of bullets stitch up a charging Reaper’s body from its chest up into its face. The creature’s jaw sunk inward, and it dropped ten feet from Foster’s position. He saw a visibly shaken Charles holding his rifle.

  “Nice shooting, padre,” Foster said.

  “I-I had to,” Charles answered. “It was going to attack Derrick and you.”

  “You did it a kindness,” Foster said. “The person it used to be wouldn’t want to have killed another human.”

  “Clear,” Walker shouted.

  “Clear,” Sam answered back. “Foster you want to talk to the trapped civvies?”

  “I’ll do it,” Walker said. “It was my wife’s idea for us to stop, so I might as well finish the mission.”

  “Sounds good,” Foster said. “Sams, you take a right flank of the vehicle. I'll take left. We'll cover Nick in case we get any unwanted company. Everybody, keep your eyes open. Call out if you see any hostiles coming our way.”

  The group sprung into action, and Foster watched everyone moved where he had directed. It amazed him how well they worked as a group since they had only met a few days ago. He watched as Walker slowly made his way to the disabled vehicle.

  Walker tapped on the glass and asked, “Is everyone okay?” A woman inside the vehicle continued to sob uncontrollably.

  Foster glanced at the carnage near the rear tire. It appeared to have been a man at one point, and he guessed the Reapers had torn him to shreds.

  “I'm sorry about your friend, ma'am,” Walker continued, “but we need to know, is everybody in your vehicle okay?”

 

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