Dystopian Girls 2

by Rodzil LaBraun

  I updated Jada on the situation. She was not right there with me during the first visit to the pool house but knew what we were dealing with. The stink of the area had her staying well outside the fence while I had my conversation with Jamila. I made a mental note to start using the paper masks from the workshop that were designed to block out saw dust and paint fumes. It would have to help filter out some of the vile stench from the area. Even if I was immune to the diseases that were killing off most of the population, I could still get sick from regular stuff. With no hospitals or doctor’s offices open anymore every precaution should be taken.

  As we crossed through the next two estates heading southwest, we saw a decent amount of wildlife. There were squirrels, birds, a calico cat, and a few dogs. None of them paid much attention to us. If you could overlook the occasional skeleton and abundance of trash, the scene was peaceful. Almost like a nice walk through the park. Grievously, littering was rampant and no longer a crime that could cost you a heavy fine. I remember the signs posted repeatedly along city streets warning of a five-hundred-dollar fine. I used to laugh at the idea that every discarded cigarette butt could cost people what was possibly a week’s worth of pay.

  The field we were currently stepping through almost looked like a farm. But there were no fences for holding in livestock, or visible crop fields. The grass was so tall that it was sometimes hard to tell what used to be there. I once stepped into a plastic baby pool that was only five feet wide. A few times my shoe touched a dead animal before I noticed it. Imagine if there was one of them old bear traps! You’d never see it until your leg was irreparably marred. It was best to take things slow.

  When I thought about all the dangers in the world these days, it made me want to practically crawl at a snail’s pace. There could be skanks or rabid dogs. Or, worse yet, malicious humans. As we rounded the corner of a large shed without sufficient caution, we stumbled across a family of deer grazing on the tall grass near a wide gravel driveway. Immediately the buck went on high alert.

  I tried my best to gesture that we didn't mean any harm, but the big guy turned toward us and started snorting as he rubbed his feet on the ground. Jada instinctively raised her pistol in defense. The huge deer with twelve-point antlers saw the weapon and paused. When I followed suit and raised my rifle, he made a guttural sound. Instead of a battle cry before charging us, it was a warning to his family. The doe and three fawns instantly bolted for the woods. When I dipped the point of my rifle the buck followed suit.

  "Well, that was interesting," Jada said as we watched them leave. "I guess the guns had come in handy already."

  "Yeah, we just need to only come across animals that recognize them. Did deer get smarter, or did they always act like that?"

  "Hell, if I know. But now that they are gone, I'm wondering why we didn't go ahead and shoot one of them. With processed and preserved food getting harder to find, shouldn't we be hunting large animals at this point? Squirrels and rabbits aren’t going to cut it anymore with our family growing at this rate."

  "Yeah, you are right, of course. I've just never killed an animal before. I would have struggled with shooting the mama or daddy deer in front of their kids."

  "Mason, you've killed skanks and people. Shooting a deer shouldn't bother you anymore."

  "I know. But we'd also have to field dress it, drag it back to the house without attracting predators, then cut it up properly to refrigerate. Are you ready for all that?"

  "At some point we will have to be. It might as well be now, though I wouldn't be able to drag a large animal body today. That would be all you."

  In the next yard to the west we encountered a rabid dog with oversized fangs. His face was stained red with the blood from past meals. Some of his brown fur was matted down, possibly from injuries sustained while fighting other animals like himself. It was, after all, a dog-eat-dog world out there.

  He was sniffing around the carcass of a goat that had already been well picked over. Once he spotted us, he charged without hesitation. It was not the first time that we had encountered such an experience. It was always alarming, but not as panic causing now that we have some powerful weapons. Before I could even swing my rifle into position, Jada put a bullet into the dog's forehead, dropping him just a few feet in front of us.

  "Mine works," she stated with unbelievable calmness. You never really get used to being charged by wild animals. The silver lining was that Jada was returning to her confident warrior queen mentality. "I wonder if anyone heard the shot."

  I hadn't considered that as quickly. We decided to hide in some nearby brush for a few minutes to see if anyone would come looking for the source of the gunfire. There was a small grove of pine trees where the bushes and ground cover were overgrown enough to conceal us. Just when we were about to exit, I spotted movement way off in the distance. It turned out to be a woman and she was frantically running our way.

  From that far away it was hard to make out any details about her, except that she appeared to be escaping something or someone. She was traveling at a panicked pace through the tall grass heading directly for us. She had nothing but the clothes on her back as she high-stepped her way through an open field, clearly visible to any predators. It was a good thing for her sake that Jada had already killed the fanger mutt.

  When she was a little more than halfway across the clearing a shot rang out that dropped the woman face down to the ground. We couldn't see the shooter at this point but assumed that they were somewhere behind their victim. Had she been killed?

  We waited as the echo faded away. A few seconds later, her head popped up for a few seconds as she looked around. She may have looking to see how close her attacker was, or maybe searching for nearby cover. She then jumped back up and continued running.

  As she approached, I was gradually able to make out some details. The woman looked fairly young and of Asian descent. She was petite, but not necessarily thin. Her short black skirt bounced around on fair-skinned meaty thighs. A once white sleeveless blouse hung unbuttoned over a dirty white bra. Her sockless flat sneakers didn't look to be the perfect running shoes for the occasion. But then again, she was not out for a planned jog.

  Bang, another shot fired. This time the girl continued running until she reached the corner of a house that was approximately forty feet from our hiding spot. Her arm was changing in color to bright red. The blood from the bullet hole was steady and she was clearly wincing in pain. That first shot in the field had hit her. She clutched at the wound as she cried in agony, leaning against the building.

  Jada looked at me for instruction. Obviously, we wanted to help her. But I just shook my head, not wanting to make a sound. We needed to wait and see what was chasing her. We couldn’t risk the next shot hitting one of us. I wouldn’t be able to deflect shots that I wasn’t expecting.

  It wasn't long before a rifle toting man came jogging up toward the house. On his tail was a younger man, possibly a teenager. He also had a rifle. Both were wearing jeans and t-shirts, no uniform. The man's jeans were actually bib-overalls with just one strap buttoned. Was that still the style, or did the other button fall off?

  "Don't make me kill you, girl," the man yelled. "I just want to take you back to the school for your own protection."

  So, these two were with the schoolhouse gang that we had encountered once before. I wondered if they ever figured out that one of their own was killed by us. Even if the teenage girl didn’t squeal on us, they might have found the body.

  No others from their group appeared, so it was likely just the pair. Maybe they were out on patrol when they noticed the runaway. We were roughly a half mile from our house, but much farther than that from the school. They were either expanding their territory or simply chasing after someone that escaped.

  The Asian girl had slid her back down the wall of the house to sit on the ground. She had panic in her eyes as she breathed heavily. The defeated posture indicated that she wasn’t planning on running any more.

/>   They were practically on top of her, but still looking around. Finally, the young man spotted the girl's legs at the corner of the building and alerted the older man. They very much reminded me of the pair that we had encountered before, only the opposite sex. One confident and in the lead. The other a novice learning patrol.

  "There you are," he said as the two of them walked up to her, stopping just twenty feet away. "Are you going to come back peacefully?"

  The girl shook her head, looking weak, but angry.

  "I don't need to get scratched up anymore, so if you ain't willing I'll just put you out of your misery. You're gonna die out here on your own anyway. I'd be doing you a favor. One last chance. What you gonna do?"

  The young woman continued to shake her head and cry. She was apparently just going to sit there and let this guy kill her. What exactly had she gone through to put her in such a state? Was she a member of their group that escaped, or just someone that they were forcibly recruiting like the women tried to do with me? Either way, I couldn't just hide there and let it happen. The woman was defenseless. This was an execution. What was the girl's crime?

  The young man turned his face away from the scene unfolding as the one that had done all the speaking so far slowly raised his rifle to aim. The teenage boy clearly expected that the man would follow through on this threat. This was my cue.

  "Wait!" I shouted from my cover in the shadow of the foliage. The man turned abruptly and fired a single shot in our direction instead. I used my deflection ability to make sure that the bullet missed both of us. The youngster then follow suit and raised his rifle as well but did not fire. He appeared to be rattled and began to back away in fear.

  "Who said that?" the man shouted as the two of them visually searched up and down the small patch of woods. When he noticed his less confident accomplice moving backwards, he motioned for him to flank us. As the younger guy slowly began to circle us on the opposite side from where the girl sat, Jada gave me a signal that meant 'I got this.'

  The Glock fired its second shot of the day, cutting through the weeds just inches from the young man's foot. He stopped instantly, but the other guy fired another round in our direction. This time his aim was a little better. Again, I deflected to make sure that the shooter didn't get lucky. He still could not see us in the woods as the sun was shining bright into his eyes. A ball cap could have helped him, but instead his bald red scalp soaked up the heat.

  When the Asian girl bolted the man tried to fired shot at her back, but the rifle clicked instead. He was out of ammunition and needed to reload. When he reached desperately for his pocket, I spoke up again.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

  "Come out, you coward!"

  "No, I'd rather keep my aim steady on your chest from where I am. My friend also has a bead on your boy. The girl already got away. The best thing for you to do now is retreat. Drop your rifles if you want to live."

  The sound of my voice gave away my position causing the man to stare directly at the area where I was hiding. Jada wanted to circle around to the other side, but I felt more comfortable with my ability to protect her if she stayed close. When the youngster began to slowly lower his firearm to the ground the first guy called my bluff and attempted to reload quickly.

  I had killed before. In battle. In self-defense. However, it had always been in the moment. Holding a steady aim on an opponent that did not have a clear shot on you was different. Pulling that trigger and sending a death dealing projectile into the man's chest was not quite the same as what I had experienced before. Was he a good man overall? Did he had kids that survived? Were there dozens of women and children counting on him to provide food and security? Yeah, I thought about all that as the man's body flew backwards from the impact of the bullet.

  The young man screamed, finished dropping his rifle and took off running in the direction from which he came. He may have been a track star at that high school where they were living as fast as he hustled down the grassy hill. I, of course, had no desire to shoot him in the back, even if my aim was good enough to do so from that distance. If he did report on the event, they would not catch us in this area again anyway. It also would not lead them directly to our shelter.

  The man I shot lay on the ground, his rifle landing a good ten feet away from him. The grass was too tall to see clearly, but he was assuredly still moving. I could see his legs and boots kicking toward me trying to push himself away and in the direction of his lost weapon. The bullet must have done some serious damage. Based solely on his limited mobility I would assume that he would die from the injury soon.

  I debated on claiming his rifle, and maybe putting him out of his misery. We didn't desperately need another firearm, but it would be stupid to just leave it there. That's what I was thinking when I saw movement to my left. Three skanks were coming our way at a slow pace. Our gunfire had drawn their attention.

  As I considered how long it might take for them to arrive on the scene, two more skanks came around the far corner of the house. This pair was much closer and made my decision for me. We needed to flee without collecting either rifle. Hopefully they would be focused on the bloody body on the ground instead of chasing after us. I motioned for Jada that we needed to go.

  "I can't run," Jada told me with a pained expression. "I'm sorry."

  "I don't think we need to. Let's just sneak away. I'll drop my rifle and carry you if I have to."

  "Or, you could use the shoulder strap. There's no need to give up the weapon, Mason."

  "Yeah," I replied feeling silly. "I could do that. I guess I was being a little dramatic. My point is, we'll be fine. Let's go before more of them show up."

  We chose a path that kept us as close as possible to sight barriers as we fled. Trees, bushes, buildings, fences. We changed course once to avoid a pack of eight rotters that were led by two skunks. Gunshots really brought these stinkers out of the woodwork, so to speak.

  There was a stretch of woods along the road at the front of a large estate that provided cover for us as the slow-moving shuffle of zombie-like people crossed the large front lawn. As we waited, I heard heavy breathing nearby. I turned to see where it was coming from, searching the patch of brush for a new foe. It took a few moments for me to discover the Asian girl that we had just saved. She was sitting there with her back against a tree, attempting to hold her wounded limb tight enough to stop the flow of blood. Her arm was already soaked red to the fingertips.

  "Shit!" the girl muttered.

  I could see now that she was probably in her twenties, older than me, so I shouldn't be calling her a girl by old standards. She was a woman, and a pretty one at that. Her low cheek bones gave her face a squarish look that was not uncommon in east Asia. I always had a taste for Asian girls but had never managed to date one before. My testosterone fueled brain was too busy thinking about that point, so Jada spoke to her first.

  "Hey, it’s okay. We won't hurt you. That arm looks hurt bad."

  "It is," the woman cried.

  "Mason?" Jada was asking for approval to invite her to our place. She was no doubt wondering why I had not already offered. I nodded, of course. She was a victim needing refuge. Even in her current condition she shouldn’t slow us down any more than my clan mate.

  "My name is Jada. This is Mason. We have a safe place to stay and some medical supplies. Would you like to come with us and get that arm bandaged up?"

  "Okay," she cried some more, looking as defeated as she had been when the bib overalls guy was about to execute her. If we hadn’t stumbled across her, she might have been content to bleed out where she sat.

  "What's your name?"

  "Seiko," she replied as she tried to wipe her tears on her remaining clean sleeve. "Thank you for saving me."

  "You are welcome," I finally spoke up. "Let's get to safety and we can talk more later."

  CHAPTER SEVEN:

  Riley and Alexa worked diligently together to treat Seiko's wound. The bullet had passed st
raight through the meaty flesh of the woman's arm without breaking a bone. Ligament damage was yet to be determined. The primary concern was to stop the bleeding. Rehabilitation would have to wait for the initial healing to complete.

  They started her off with a small dose of pain killer to test the effect. Everyone’s tolerance to the variety of medication available was different. Seiko fell asleep within ten minutes of taking the pills, though exhaustion may have had something to do with it as well.

  Jada was extremely tired from the adventure and was limping worse than before we had left. She declined pain medicine herself but parked her gorgeous ass on the couch to rest as I explained to the others what had happened. I had to apologize for not acquiring any food. That was, after all, the purpose of our trip. The only item obtained was Seiko, and we couldn’t eat her. Thank God we’re not that hungry yet.

  Once I sat down, I realized how much of a toll the experience had taken on me as well. There had been some physical exertion, sure. The weight of taking a man's life by gunshot bore down on me even more. I was happy about the possibility of acquiring another girl for our group, assuming that she wanted to stay with us and wouldn't turn out to be a complete asshole.

  The smell of sweaty armpits filled the air as I rested there beside Jada. I checked mine to see if I was the culprit, then gave Jada a foul look that she just completely ignored. With air conditioning being rationed it was not uncommon for the house to take on the aroma usually associated with a locker room. Of all the things to deal with in Dystopia, sweat stench was one of the easier ones.