Riders of the Apocalypse (Book 3): Eat Asphalt

by Alex Westmore

  “What the hell is this place?” Burnett, one of the younger women asked.

  “I don’t know, Burnie, but we’re about to find out.”

  When the caravan of vehicles stopped, Dallas turned to her group. “Keep your wits about you. The bus riders know something went down and they’ll figure out we might be in danger here. Regardless of how this all pans out, you have to have faith that Zoe, Hunter and Fletcher will get us out of here. Just be cool.” Dallas leveled her gaze at her hot headed lover. “That means you mostly, Roper. Don’t be flippant. Don’t be rude, and for God’s sake, don’t let your anger get the best of you.”

  Before Roper could fire off a retort, the whine of the megaphone came to life.

  “Exit the vehicle and you’ll be safe,” the voice on the bullhorn said. “You will not be harmed unless you provoke us.

  “I don’t like this,” Churchill muttered. “I don’t like it at all.”

  Roper pulled Dallas to her and kissed her hard. “I love you. More than life itself.”

  Dallas managed a grin. “I know. We’ll be fine. Keep your knee jerk reactions in check, love.” Dallas got out of the transport and helped everyone else exit the vehicle as well. When everyone was out, she and her team stood facing a cadre of armed men. Only one man was weaponless. He wore a black cowboy hat and cowboy boots. He reminded Dallas of pictures of a young John Wayne.

  “Come out slowly, hands where we can see them.”

  They walked toward the crowd of men who parted so there was an unobstructed path to John Wayne.

  “Pardon our apparent lack of hospitality, but you can’t never be too cautious these days, can you?” He looked in the face of each of them as if he was searching for something. “Who’s your leader?”

  Before Dallas could say anything, Churchill stepped forward. “That would be me.” He looked at Dallas with another warning glare.

  “It’s that biggun,” came the response from a bald man.

  When Dallas started forward, Roper barely touched her hand. “Don’t.”

  “Welcome to our humble abode,” John Wayne said, extending his hand to Churchill. “Name’s JB, and for better or worse, I am the head honcho of this here little community of ours.”

  Churchill shook his hand. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we, JB? You want the Fuchs, you can have it. Me and my people just want our weapons and then we’ll be on our way. We’re heading west and wish to be on our way in the morning.”

  JB sized him up. “Way? Way to where? Son, there is no place to go that them zombies won’t have your hide for breakfast, lunch or dinner. This here is about the only sanctuary in the whole of Texas—maybe even the whole US of A.” He motioned to a couple of men who ran toward the first building. “This apocalypse will mean the end of mankind if we don’t step up right now and do somethin’. Here, we’re doing somethin’.”

  Churchill looked over at Dallas, who cleared her throat before she spoke. “JB, this wasn’t the apocalypse. It was a bioweapon our government created that was turned on us by the rest of the world. The virus is only in the United States.”

  JB blinked and glanced at his men. There was a slight pause before they all burst out laughing. “Beggin’ your pardon, missy—”

  “It’s Dallas.”

  “Beggin’ your pardon, Miss Dallas, but that’s just plain silly,” JB said, tipping his hat to Dallas. “If it were just the United States, our allies would have sent help by now, dontcha’ think?”

  Dallas looked at Roper from the corner of her eyes. Roper shook her head, but Dallas continued. “Our allies are all part of a global police force whose task it is to keep us from leaving the country and infecting our neighbors.”

  More chuckling.

  JB put his hand up and the laughter stopped. “Global police force?” He turned from Dallas and addressed Churchill. “Too many conspiracy novels for that one. Here’s the skinny.” He put his arm around Churchill’s shoulders and walked him away from the group.

  “We gotta get out of here. Now,” Roper whispered. “Before Billy Bob and his minions decide to use us for slave labor or something. There’s something so not right about these yahoos.”

  “Survivalists,” Einstein whispered.

  Everyone in the group looked at him. “What?”

  “These guys are survivalists.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Didn’t you see it? Inside his right wrist is a tattoo of the black and yellow fallout symbol. Don’t look, but at least one of those guys over there has it as well. Trust me on this, guys, these fanatic survivalist people are messed up in the brain and Roper may not be far from the truth.”

  “What does that mean to us?” Cassie asked.

  Einstein lowered his voice. “It means they are more dangerous to us than the man eaters because they are set in their survival ways. They’ve already conjured up their apocalypse scenario and they won’t be talked out of it. You heard how he dissed Dallas. He did it because she’s a woman. These are a bunch of Jethros who think—”

  “That’s enough whispering,” a redheaded commando said. He puffed out his chest and glowered at the group. “Wait quietly until the boss gets back.”

  Roper glared at him. “The Boss? That’s what you call him? How did he get to be the Boss?”

  “He saved our lives. That earned him our respect and our loyalty. You’ll see. He saved yours as well. You just can’t see it yet.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that we didn’t need saving?” Roper started forward. Four rifles aimed at her.

  She put her hands up and shook her head. “Unarmed woman, for Christ’s sake. Relax. I was just going to say our lives weren’t in any jeopardy until you arrived and started shooting at us.”

  “Not that you were aware of, miss. But it’s a man’s job to protect the womenfolk from dangers they aren’t even aware of.”

  Dallas just managed to get her hand on Roper’s wrist. “Drop it, Roper. Dark Age mentality. Might as well scream at a brick wall.”

  Roper stared at her. “Are you fucking kidding me? Womenfolk? Did the clock just turn back a hundred fucking years?”

  Einstein muttered, “They’ll shoot you as soon as look at you, Rope. Please don’t draw attention to yourself.”

  Roper took a deep breath and backed away, hands up in surrender. “Fine. Whatever.”

  “Thank you,” Dallas said. “Let’s not make enemies until we have to.” She watched Churchill listen to JB in the distance. As she did, Dallas studied her surroundings. Four identical gray warehouses with no windows on the ground floors. Each had several large bays for backing in trucks. The streets were stained with what she could only assume was blood, but there were no man eaters or body parts lying around. Guards stood on all four corners of the buildings, at the gates, and walking down the shortened streets. No women were in sight.

  Not one.

  Parked in a row were eight military vehicles. Across the street from them were drums she figured contained gasoline they’d probably siphoned. Tiki torches ringed the perimeter, which was as secure as an area of this sort could be. As much as she didn’t want to be, she was impressed with the security of the area.

  Impressed and nervous.

  Something wasn’t right. They didn’t just want the Fuchs. There was something else—something that felt sinister to her that she couldn’t put her finger on. Maybe it was the lack of women, maybe it was the way these men leered at her women—whatever it was made her gut ring out a loud alarm.

  As she stood there taking in the lay of the land, two more Jeeps pulled in. The redheaded commander left the group to talk to the driver of one of the Jeeps.

  “Dallas?” Einstein whispered as he sidled up next to her.

  “Yeah, Kid?”

  “We’re in trouble here. There’s this movie I saw once—”

  “Keep it down,” one of the guards growled. “The Sarge already told you to pipe down.”

  Roper pulled her hand out of Dallas’s grasp. “F
uck you. We aren’t your guests and we aren’t your prisoners, so let us the fuck out of here.” Roper pushed past him. Two seconds later, the butt of a rifle landed on her lower back, knocking her to her hands and knees on the street.

  “Roper!” Dallas made a move toward her when a rifle muzzle swung into her chest.

  “Back away.”

  Roper winced as she rose to one knee. “That...the best…you got…pencil dick?” she said to the bald guard who hit her.

  The guard took two steps toward her and raised the butt of his rifle one more time.

  “That’s enough, Clint,” JB said as he and Churchill rejoined the group. “Help our guest to her feet.”

  “Yes, sir.” When Clint bent over to help Roper up, she swung an elbow and connected with his crotch. He staggered backwards as all the air left his body. “You…bitch…”

  “Fucking…balless…sack of…shit.”

  “That’s quite enough,” JB said. “Churchill, please get a handle on your people. I won’t have people engagin’ in a pissin’ contest here. It’s hard enough fightin’ off them zombies.”

  “Can I have a moment with them, please?” Churchill asked, staring at Dallas. “Get ‘em under control.”

  As Dallas and Einstein assisted Roper to her feet, Dallas whispered, “What in the hell was that? I told you—”

  “We gotta…get outta here,” Roper said through gritted teeth. “And right now.”

  JB motioned for Churchill to tend to his people. “You have two minutes, Churchill.”

  As he started to walk away, he told Sarge, loud enough for everyone to hear, “If she does that again, kill the boy.”

  “Oh hell no,” Roper growled.

  Dallas dug her fingers into Roper’s arm. “Get a grip, will you? I told you to keep your head, god damnit.”

  “You keep it. I’m getting us the fuck out of here while we can.”

  Churchill stepped away from the guards, all of whom had shouldered their rifles, and

  motioned for everyone to huddle close. “Get over here.”

  “What the fuck is going on?” Dallas demanded as they stood in a closed circle.

  Churchill’s face was pale, his mouth dry. “He says we need to rest here tonight and they’ll let us go in the morning, but they have protocols—like we had in Angola. We need to be cool and do what they ask. We’ll be gone before noon tomorrow.”

  “I’m not letting a bunch of bubbas lock me up, protocols or not,” Roper said. “Uh uh. No fucking way. I want out of here.”

  “I’m with Roper,” Cassie said. “I’d rather take my chances in the dark wilderness. These guys are creeping me out.”

  Dallas glanced over Churchill’s shoulder at the men with the rifles. “Taking them on would be foolish. They have the upper hand for now, so let’s just see what the accommodations are like, stay the night and get out of here at first light.”

  Everyone nodded before she even finished.

  “Everybody,” she paused to look at Roper, “needs to keep their heads. If they were going to kill us, they already would have. Just stay calm, and remember the plan if we get separated.” She made eye contact now with everyone. “We’re going to get out of here, okay? Just don’t do anything stupid. Any questions?”

  “Are we going to get the Beast back?”

  Dallas grinned. It was a show of bravado she did not feel. “Absolutely. You think we’re gonna let a bunch of over-zealous survivalists take our stuff? No way. They got the jump on us is all, but they’re no match for us when the playing field is level. Operative words?”

  Everyone repeated, “Stay cool.”

  “Good. Looks like our escorts are coming. Go meet them. Give the pretense that we are not at all bothered by this. Act happy to be here.”

  When the huddle broke, Roper grabbed Churchill’s huge forearm. “What the fuck, Churchill? All of a sudden you’re our leader?”

  Churchill shot a look to Dallas before he answered. “Look around, Roper. See any women? Any at all? This is a bigot’s paradise. These guys only understand testosterone talk. I did what I thought was best.”

  “He was protecting me, babe,” Dallas said. She turned to Churchill and said, “Thank you. It was a bold yet brilliant move on your part. You’re right. These backwater thinkers would never have acknowledged me as a leader and it would have made our group appear weak. I appreciate your quick thinking.”

  He blushed. “I’m just glad you understood why I did it. No women means something. I don’t quite know what that is, but it ain’t good. These men—they’re dangerous, Dallas. Very, very dangerous. That JB dude? Thinks himself a God over his minions. He ain’t right in the head bone.”

  Dallas put her face right up to Roper’s and said, “Do you hear that, my love? Please, please, please keep yourself in check.”

  “We’re not giving up the Beast,” Roper said. “I don’t give a shit how many guns they have.”

  Dallas smiled. “No, love, we’re not.”

  “Fine. Then let’s play this their way for now, but then we are out of here.”

  “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

  As Dallas and Roper joined the others, one line went through Dallas’s head over and over. The best laid plans...

  Churchill and Einstein were lead away by three of the guards while the women were escorted to the warehouse on the far left. A large portion of the warehouse was decorated, much to Dallas’s surprise, like a comfortable living room. There was a huge circular sofa, end tables, even a rug. It looked like a Hollywood movie set in a creepy sort of way.

  JB sat in a large leather recliner smoking a fat cigar, his feet up and a glass of what looked like whiskey in his hand.

  “Please come in, ladies, and have a seat. Don’t be shy. Come. Come. Can I get you a lukewarm beverage of some sort? Try as we may, we just can’t get any electricity runnin’ for our refrigerator. I miss ice. Ain’t it funny the things we miss?”

  “We’ll stand, if you don’t mind,” Dallas said.

  JB blew out a ring of bluish smoke. “Oh, but I do. Don’t be rude, Miss Dallas. Sit. Down.” It wasn’t a request.

  A nudge from the end of a rifle persuaded Dallas to sit on the brown leather sofa. She took a seat in between Roper and Cassie, who was visibly shaking. Burnett sat on the arm of the couch.

  “Nothin’ to wet your whistle?”

  “No, thank you.” Dallas reached over and squeezed Cassie’s hand. Cassie’s fear was tangible and hung in the air around her like a bad smell.

  “Well then, let me get to brass tacks.” JB put the footrest of his recliner down and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his cigar in his right hand, and his drink in his left. “The world has gone to hell, as we always knew it would. For fifteen years, I’ve been stockpiling food and water for the time when our world was turned inside out. That time came over a year ago, and we were ready.” He hesitated like he was expecting applause. When none came, he continued. “We built our stores, stocked our weapons, and took in those fit enough to survive an apocalypse. I had everything planned right on down to having both gas and diesel fuel in case one became obsolete. Yet, with all my planning, with all our training, one thing escaped my attention. One thing I never thought about until after we got our base set up here. Know what that one thing was?”

  They all shook their heads except for Dallas. She got a sick feeling she knew where this was going.

  “Procreation.”

  Dallas’s marrow chilled at the word confirming her worst fears. “Procreation?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” JB rose and paced as he spoke. “It is our duty as survivors, as the fittest, as the brightest, as the strongest, to keep homo sapiens alive. We can’t do that without women.”

  Dallas dug her fingers into Roper’s thigh, but it was too late.

  “Oh fuck that, you crazy ass motherfucker.” Roper was on her feet in an instant. “You can shove your new world order up your fat ass, you god damn mother fucking red neck.”

&nb
sp; All of the guards raised their weapons.

  “Roper! Sit down,” Burnett cried.

  Roper got half a step toward JB before she was zapped with a taser.

  “Roper—” Dallas jumped to her feet.

  “Want to join her?” JB asked, swigging his whiskey. “Take one more step and you will.” Dallas remained standing, her fists at her sides, her teeth clenched, glaring at JB.

  “A taser?” Cassie asked. “How the hell—”

  “The X25 Taser has a shelf life of ten years, darlin’. It’s the perfect weapon for subduin’ without injury. Your little friend has a mouth on her, don’t she?” JB made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Get her out of here. Take her to her room.”

  “No.” Dallas said, as she moved toward Roper.

  The raised taser toward stopped her.

  “Please.” Dallas turned to JB. “I’ll keep her under control.”

  “Of course you will. She’s been tasered.” JB stepped over Roper and up to Dallas. He was at least six inches taller than her. “And so will you if you don’t sit back down.”

  Dallas hesitated. Only when Cassie gently tugged her arm did she sit down.

  “That’s better.” JB handed his empty glass to one of his minions and then sat back down on the edge of the recliner. “Let me continue without any further outbursts, shall we?”

  Dallas said nothing, but she kept her eyes on Roper, whose body finally stopped spasming.

  JB blew out a smoke ring and continued his lecture. “Very good. As I was saying, it is our duty as survivors to repopulate, to assure we have progeny. Hindsight, as they say, is twenty-twenty, and women were never on my radar in the pre-planning days.”

  “Because you find us beneath you?”

  JB laughed. “Darlin’, beneath me is the best place for any woman to be. Not just that, but also because I’d not figured the apocalypse would be so thoroughly devastatin’.”

  “Because it hasn’t been, you moron. The virus isn’t worldwide. It’s just here in the U.S.” Cassie spat. “But you wouldn’t know that, here in bum-fuck Egypt.”

  JB shook his head. “There’s no possible way anyone could keep Americans inside our borders. We are Americans, not some piddly little powerless country. Your story is preposterous and pathetic, which is why men always have and always will be the dominant force of our species.”