Both Sabina’s children nodded to their mother, their collective experience having made them a quick-to-act unit when faced with impending danger.
They knew the drill.
It took them just four minutes to neatly pack away food, water, matches, and two thick blankets. They were ready to make good on yet another escape.
Bosco was the first to issue a warning of something approaching. His head cocked to the side and then he let out a low, soft woof. Clyde then did the same. Sabina ran to the back of the RV and saw something which made her blood instantly chill within her veins.
Two men on motorcycles were less than half mile from the RV and closing fast.
Why God? Why can’t you ever give us a damn break for once! Is that too much to ask?
Clyde began to growl, sensing Sabina’s distress.
“What are we going to do, Mom?”
Sabina opened her mouth to give Mika an answer but then abruptly closed it.
She didn’t know what to do.
“Lock the door, get as low to the floor as possible in the middle of the hallway. Put the dogs in the bathroom.”
It was Jackson who barked the orders this time. Sabina watched her son load the hunting rifle while Mika moved Bosco and Clyde into the bathroom and then Jackson pointed to a space in the narrow hallway next to the RV’s small refrigerator.
“Hurry up, sit down here. The cabinets will give us a little more protection if they start shooting.”
As Sabina lowered herself onto the dirty shag carpeting that was the RV’s floor she knew that by allowing them to be trapped as they were, the RV had become a crypt.
We won’t get out of here alive. More will come, they’ll have guns, and we can’t fight them all off.
Mika lowered her face against her knees that were held tightly against her chest. She tried to hide the frightened tears that rolled down her cheeks.
Jackson held the rifle at the ready, putting himself between the RV’s door and his mother and sister.
The motorcycle’s rumbled to a stop some forty feet from the RV. Jackson, Sabina and Mika could hear voices whispering but were unable to determine what was being said until one of the voices began to shout.
“Hey! We know you’re in there! We won’t hurt you if you come out! I promise!”
Sabina could hear muffled laughter and then the men went silent, awaiting a response. Jackson turned around to face his mom and sister with a finger held to his lips. He shook his head, indicating they should remain both seated and silent.
“C’mon, man, this don’t have to go down like this! As long as you’re all white, we’re all right and we can be the best of friends! You’ll want to get out here before Ripper shows up, though. He ain’t nearly as friendly as we are!”
The same muffled laughter as before was repeated.
Jackson tightened his grip on the rifle and continued to wait. The sound of more motorcycles coming down the road toward them caused Mika to let out a soft whimper. Sabina turned herself around so that she could encircle Mika’s trembling body in her arms and whisper into her daughter’s left ear.
“Shhhh, it’s going to be ok. It’s going to be ok.”
Sabina knew the words to be a lie.
They weren’t going to be ok.
A single shot was fired into the air from just a few yards outside of the RV. The Markson family flinched and Mika let out a muffled, fearful cry.
“We ain’t going nowhere so just step outside and let us have a look at you.”
Sabina rose up into a half-crouch and peered between a small space in the white curtain that covered the narrow window over the kitchen area sink. She saw two middle-aged men standing no more than twenty feet away on the other side of the road. Both carried assault rifles and were whispering to one another.
“How many are there?”
Sabina looked at her son and then held up two fingers before again looking through the gap in the curtain. What she saw next caused her mouth to fall open as she fell back to the floor.
The two tires on the RV’s left side were blown apart as the men momentarily opened fire. Tears streamed down Mika’s face and Jackson’s eyes widened in terror. Sabina looked down to see her hands shaking as she struggled to maintain her grip on the hunting rifle. She hated being so afraid, knowing it would only worsen the fear her children felt as well.
All three heard the rumble of yet more motorcycles approaching. It was a sound almost as terrifying as that of rifles being fired at them, for it meant there could be no escape.
They were hopelessly outnumbered.
“Mom, it’s ok.”
Sabina looked up at her son. Jackson gave his mother a loving, half-smile.
“You kept us safe, Mom. You’ve been amazing.”
Mika wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded her agreement.
“Jackson’s right, I never realized how strong you were. Whatever happens, whatever…”
Mika’s voice trailed off as she started to cry.
Jackson finished what Mika wanted to say.
“Whatever happens…we’ll always be together.”
Sabina couldn’t speak. The love she felt for her two kids was too great for words. Her lower lip trembled and like Mika, her eyes were wet with tears as well.
I was supposed to keep them safe. This is my fault.
The dogs began barking from their place in the bathroom as someone from outside pushed against the RV door.
“Hey! Open up!”
Sabina stood up and again looked out the window and saw at least seven more men gathered outside.
All of them were armed.
One of the men in particular caught her attention. He appeared to be forty or so years of age, tall and lean, with a head shaved clean and a cruel, wolfish, pockmarked face with especially dark eyes that glowered from beneath a prominent brow.
That’s the one we were warned about. The one they call, Ripper.
It was at that very moment Ripper’s eyes looked up and stared directly at Sabina. His mouth slashed across his face, forming an almost inhuman grin as he lifted his right hand and moved it slowly from side to side like a clock ticking down the last living moments of Sabina and her two kids.
“I see you.”
Though Ripper hissed the words, they still somehow managed to reach across the road and into the RV.
“Hello, pretty thing.”
Sabina crouched low, desperate to escape the death that swirled within Ripper’s midnight gaze.
“Jackson, there are knives in the drawer above you. Get one for both you and your sister. If something happens to me, you fight, ok? The both of you fight until…until you can’t fight no more.”
Jackson reached up, opened the drawer and withdrew two small steak knives. He gave one to Mika and kept one for himself.
Sabina took a deep breath and then looked at her son.
“Jackson, they won’t be allowed to take your sister, ok? That won’t happen, do you understand? Don’t let them take her.”
Jackson nodded just once. He knew exactly what his mom was asking of him. There would be no escaping the RV. This was to be the Markson family’s last stand. He would not allow his sister to be forced to experience a fate worse than death at the hands of the men who gathered outside.
Sabina gripped and then re-gripped the hunting rifle as she closed her eyes and recalled where each of the men outside stood.
You have to kill Ripper. The others don’t matter as much. Kill him first.
The single mom of two stood up, took aim, and fired.
Sabina was able to get just two shots off with the bolt-action rifle before the bikers returned fire. She fell to the floor again as the side of the RV partially disintegrated from the multiple assault rifle rounds that ripped through the vehicle’s thin sheet metal. Mika screamed as a bullet entered the RV’s interior just above her head and exited out the other side.
Jackson pushed his sister closer to the floor and then covered her with his body while Sabina
kept an eye on the RV’s door.
“Hold your fire!”
The gunfire ceased and for a moment, the world went strangely quiet. Then Ripper’s voice dissected that silence as he growled his next request.
“This is your last warning! You come out or you all die in there.”
Dammit, I didn’t kill him!
Ripper’s voice lowered, snaking itself around Sabina’s mind, dripping dangerous intent.
“I know there’s a young sweet thing in there. That family back down the road told me all about her and your nice little family. So how about we strike ourselves a little bargain? You march her on out here and we’ll be on our way, simple as that. No need for everyone to die. No need for that at all. What do you say, Sabina?”
Both Jackson and Mika looked up at their mother, wondering how she might respond. Sabina’s eyes narrowed as she re-loaded the hunting rifle with still trembling hands.
“I say you step up and find out, asshole!”
Sabina pointed the gun through the blasted-out RV window and fired off three more shots. She snarled triumphantly at the sound of a man who cried out in pain and hoped it was Ripper who she had hit.
“Stop your wailing, or I’ll put one into the back of your head!”
Ripper remained very much alive and barking orders to his mismatched collection of society’s outcasts.
“Ok bitch, have it your way.”
The air was once again torn asunder by the roar of gunfire. Sabina fell to the floor next to her children and closed her eyes tightly, praying for a quick end. Her greatest fear at that moment was that she would be killed but her children would remain alive and left to the twisted whims of the murderous gathering outside.
The upper portion of the RV began to disintegrate as round after round slammed into it with enough force the vehicle rocked from side to side. Multiple bullet holes appeared just above the family’s heads until finally, Jackson cried out as one dug a shallow groove across his left shoulder.
“Get lower!”
Sabina’s cry almost went unheard by Jackson even though he was but a foot away from her, so loud was the myriad of assault rifle detonations exploding around them.
And then for but a few blissful seconds, all went silent around them.
Sabina’s ears rang from the assault. She held up a finger and motioned for her children to remain hunkered down on the floor while she cautiously lifted herself upward to take a look outside.
“Where’d it come from?”
The question was posed by Ripper. Sabina could see his shaved head moving frantically from side to side as his eyes scanned the woods that extended well beyond the boundaries of the paved road. One of the men lay on the ground bleeding heavily from a chest wound.
Two more shots rang out.
Two more of Ripper’s men collapsed.
The handful of bikers who remained began running frantically toward their motorcycles.
Sabina flinched as three more gunshots found their mark.
Ripper pointed to an area a hundred yards away up on a gradual natural incline that overlooked their location.
“There, it’s coming from those trees!”
Only Ripper and two of his men remained.
Ripper pointed his weapon toward the trees and fired until his rifle emptied. He stood still and defiant as he glared into the trees and awaited a response. With each passing second he grew more confident no such response was to come. Ripper became certain that whoever had been up there shooting at them was dead or had run away.
“You, go check it out.”
The eyes of the biker Ripper pointed to noticeably widened. He had been with the gang since Texas, a heavy-set man in his early twenties who relished the opportunity to experience life without rules and consequence.
“What? I ain’t going up there!”
Ripper dropped the assault rifle and then with his right hand, retrieved a handgun he had recently started to keep holstered at his side.
“I wasn’t asking.”
The other biker knew he had a few rounds left in his own assault rifle. Ripper watched that recognition play out from within the biker’s eyes and decided it would be prudent that he act first. He took quick aim and fired the handgun twice. The first shot missed. The second proved lethal. The bullet entered just above the biker’s left eye and exited in a spray of blood and bone from the back of his head.
As the first biker lay dead in the road, Ripper glowered at the last of his men who remained. He was called Party, a name given to him because of his seemingly unending enthusiasm to excel at doing just that. Party was almost fifty, had spent nearly half of his adult life behind bars, and was entirely devoted to the concept of living each day as if it was to be his last.
Party decided today was not to be that day and so quickly nodded as Ripper barked his order.
“Get up there and check it out. If you find something still breathing, kill it.”
Ripper watched as Party scrambled his way toward the batch of trees. Several seconds passed and then several more.
Nearly a minute after Party had left the road a single gunshot reverberated across the cloud-covered Montana sky.
Party’s party days came to an abrupt end.
Who the hell is that?
Ripper held his weapon at his side while he watched a man make his way toward him. The stranger’s walk appeared almost indifferent to the danger Ripper so clearly posed to him. Though older, perhaps as old as sixty, Ripper recognized a confident athleticism in the man’s movements.
Ripper also noted the pistol he carried.
“Hey, you stop right there. This ain’t none of your business.”
The man did as he was told. No more than sixty yards separated him from the biker gang leader. Ripper wasn’t the only one watching the newcomer’s arrival with an intense interest either. From inside the broken remnants of the RV, Sabina Markson watched the tall, lanky, salt-and-pepper haired man who stood so casually sizing up Ripper with equal parts fascination and gratitude.
The stranger didn’t respond to Ripper’s declaration. Instead he stood silent as before as if waiting for something to happen.
“What do you want?”
The man’s silence continued, much to Ripper’s quickly increasing rage. The stranger had just killed several of his men after all, and such an offense could not go unpunished.
And yet, some quiet voice from deep within Ripper’s subconscious whispered an urgent warning for him not to tangle with this particular stranger. The two men’s eyes locked and it was in those eyes that Ripper saw his own impending death.
Ripper offered up a thin smile and then slowly placed his own weapon back into its holster.
“I don’t want no trouble, man. This shit isn’t worth it to me. You feel what I’m sayin’, old timer? You can have them, I don’t care. I’ll just be on my way.”
The man’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly but still no word was spoken by him.
From her vantage point inside the RV, Sabina caught a flash of movement from the corner of her right eye. It was one of the bikers not yet dead and in the process of pointing his rifle at the newly arrived stranger.
“Watch out!”
Sabina screamed her warning even as she pointed her own weapon at the injured biker who prepared to fire at the stranger. She pulled the trigger and was greeted with the sickening sound of a click.
The rifle was empty.
Ripper’s mouth broke into a wide, predatory grin as he realized he once again held the advantage.
He can’t take us both. This old man can’t be that fast.
Sabina felt herself frozen in horrified shock as she realized she was going to witness the death of the stranger who had so bravely intervened on her family’s behalf.
It wasn’t fair but she had learned by then that fairness had no place in the cruel and unforgiving world of the Race Wars.
Ripper reached for his handgun at the same moment the other biker fired off several r
ounds in the newcomer’s general direction. The silent stranger leaned calmly to his right to avoid the spray of bullets that flew past him and then just as calmly took aim at the barely conscious biker and delivered a single bullet deep into his chest.
The man quickly shifted his attention back to Ripper. The biker gang leader was by then holding his own gun in his hand but had not yet attempted to fire it, momentarily stunned by how deadly-accurate the would-be hero was with his weapon.
RACE WARS: Season Seven: Episodes 37-41: MOLON LABE Page 5