Hell's Children: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

by John L. Monk

  “You’re a filthy backstabber, Miguel,” she said calmly. “Get out of my sight before I …” She paused, casting a furtive look at Carter, who looked amused. “Go lie in your bed, dead boy.”

  “Buzz off,” Carter told him, and snorted when Miguel jumped back as if stung. Carter threw his arm around her. “Got a proposition for you, uh … what’s your name again?”

  “Lisa,” she said through gritted teeth.

  He nodded. “That’s right. And stop being so grumpy. Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

  The boys on the mattresses gave knowing laughs and leered at her openly as she was led away, offering up suggestions like “stick it in her mouth” and “make her beg for it” and other disgusting things.

  The only girl there ran over and said, “Where the hell you going with her? After what she did, why ain’t you gonna shoot her?”

  “Out of the way, Cassie,” Carter said. “Like I told you a billion times, we’re through.”

  Cassie was a stringy-haired girl with popping eyes, a weak chin, and a frown so deep it looked like she’d been born with it.

  “No we ain’t!” she said, and spit in Lisa’s face, stunning her briefly.

  “I said back off!” Carter roared and shoved her to the floor.

  Tears streaming from her angry eyes, Cassie said, “First Molly, then Trisha. Now her? When you gonna see you got a real girl right here? Someone who actually loves you?” She glared at Lisa. “Go on and have a good time up there, stupid ugly slut. When I see you again, I’m gonna cut up your face and piss on it.”

  Cassie clambered to her feet and stalked angrily back to the others, who’d watched the exchange nervously.

  Lisa noticed the girl didn’t have a gun, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get one.

  Carter grabbed her arm, led her to the stairs, and nudged her up the first few steps.

  “Give it to her one time,” he said, “and she goes crazy. Would have left her back in town, but she’s with one of the guys now.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Supposed to be. Some girls are like that, though.”

  Lisa wiped her face again and didn’t reply.

  Carter said, “This is a really cool place you guys have here. Had here.” He laughed when loud pop music blared suddenly from the great room. “Got a generator and everything. We had one, too. Tried setting it up, and this one dude—forget his name—he fried himself pretty good. After that, nobody wanted to try again. But your spic friend with the loudmouth brother—forget his name, too—he said you know all about electricity. Is that true?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “It’s … uh … easy. If you know what to do.”

  At the landing, he tugged her to the right and made her lead. “Come on, this way.”

  Together, they headed to the room she shared with Molly and Olivia. Her back itched the whole way.

  Carter locked the door behind them and flipped the light switch. She turned around and saw he had a gun in his hand.

  “So what, you’re gonna execute me?”

  “Nah,” he said, smiling. “This is just to make sure of stuff. I can’t believe you killed all those guys. You and Jack are totally badass, you know that? Kind of pisses me off, actually. I mean, you’re just a girl. But I guess anyone can pull a trigger.” He bit his lip in thought. “Still, they shouldn’t have just ran out like that. I would have gone around back and approached from the side. But they didn’t, I guess, and you popped them. I had to finish off this one girl because she wouldn’t stop screaming. Didn’t really like her, so it’s cool.” He motioned to the bed. “Go on, sit down.”

  She sat down.

  “This you and Jack’s room?” Carter said, looking around.

  Clearly she hadn’t done a good enough job hiding her feelings for Jack, if Miguel was telling stories. Despite the situation, she wanted to laugh at the idea of her sharing a room with a boy—at her age?

  She hadn’t meant to lead on poor Jack like that. She liked him a lot—a whole lot. But they had other priorities right now, and making kissy faces at each other wasn’t one of them. Maybe later, after things calmed down and they could feed themselves without worrying about jerks like Carter. For now, the last thing she wanted was a baby on the way. Only an idiot added a medical emergency to the threat of starvation and random violence.

  Instead of saying all that, Lisa said, “Yeah, we sleep in here. Together.” Then she nodded her head for emphasis. “Every night.”

  Carter glared hotly and aimed his gun at the bed. “Did he do it with Trisha in here?”

  She looked at him blankly for a moment, and then her eyes widened. “He didn’t steal your girlfriend … or whatever she was. You beat her up and she was sick of it, so she came back with us. That’s it.”

  “Whatever,” he said languidly. “I’m putting this away. If you try anything, you’ll regret it. I’d like to think we can be friends. We should be friends. It makes the most sense. I mean, you’re sort of pretty, and you know electricity. Also, just remember, I got your brother downstairs. I was real pissed off because of that shit he said about my mom, but I’m cooling down some. It helps that I got to shoot him. So what do you say?”

  “Uh … what?”

  He sighed loudly. “You gonna try something if I put my gun away? You gonna be good?”

  “Yeah, sure.” She shook her head when his eyes narrowed. “Um, I mean no. I will be good. Whatever you want, Jesus.”

  Carter stared at her a few seconds, working it out, then holstered the gun and sat beside her.

  “Easy, now,” he said when she tried to scoot away. “I’m putting my arm around you, all right? Nothing more. Just being friendly.”

  Through an effort of will, she stopped moving and let him. She even managed not to cringe.

  “See, now? That’s not so bad,” he said softly. “Don’t worry, okay? I can see you worrying. Truth is, Trisha and Molly were mine all on their own. Just like Cassie downstairs, but she’s not pretty enough for me to stick with steady. I never force girls to do it if they don’t want to. I just kick them out. Or maybe someone in the gang wants them. I don’t really pry into people’s personal lives. But you’re special. Know why?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Because you’re his. Jack’s. I’m still not gonna force it, even though I could.” He took her chin in his hand and made her look at him. “You know I can, right? I won’t, though. It’s better if you want it, too. I’m gonna tell you why you’d want it. Just listen to my reasons. Okay?”

  Lisa breathed steadily in and out, trying to control her hatred and disgust. Her head, back, and ribs hurt more than ever, and she felt like vomiting. Instead of that, she nodded. “Sure. I’m listening.”

  Carter smiled and smoothed her hair back, tucking it behind her ears. “Because of you and Jack and your asshole brother, we got openings in the gang now. Possibly for those friends of yours, especially that big guy … dammit, I forget his name, too.” He shook his head in disgust. “I really suck at names. Anyway, we need people. Half the gang split because of your brother and his stupid radio jokes.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “They’ll change their minds when I kill Jack. I figure he’ll be here in a day or so. Or maybe that gang the spic came from will kill him.”

  She’d had enough. “Would you spit it out? What the hell do you want?”

  “I want you to be my girlfriend,” he said. “Just you and me, steady. But once we do it, that’s it, you’re mine. Not like Trisha, running off like that. That happens, I gotta kill you. So think real hard about it.”

  He smoothed her hair again, only this time he let his hand trail down her back. She stiffened when he went under her shirt, rubbing her back and feeling under her bra strap.

  “Easy, now,” he said quietly. “That’s nice, right?”

  Dutifully, she nodded.

  “We can’t keep the little kids,” he said in a musing sort of tone. “But after your brother apologizes in front of everyone, well, he can live. S
teve’s gotta die, though. He’s a backstabbing traitor, like the spic. We can kill him too, if you want. Would you like that?”

  Lisa nodded her head. “Sounds great. Wonderful.”

  Carter smiled gently. “Just lie back and close your eyes. Don’t worry about a thing. Leave everything to me.”

  34

  Eddie’s plan was simple, and he didn’t mind sharing with Jack.

  “Centreville’s used up,” he said. “Everything’s been stripped clean. The farther east you go the worse it gets. North’s basically all little kids at the airport, and this crew down south is pretty dangerous. Think they got into some kind of military base or something. We never go there. But west …” He shook his head. “Blaze was so stupid—he told us everything west was a waste of time and wouldn’t let us look. Then you come along with all that food you stole. I’m thinking this other crew’ll want it back, and I think turning you in will get me in tight with them. I’m sick of being hungry all the time.”

  “Me too,” the kid on the left said. Richard. The other’s name was Kyle.

  “Why don’t you bring more people and just attack?” Jack said, hoping to somehow salvage his plan. “Then you can take everything back and be in charge.” So long as Eddie didn’t know where the cabins or Freida’s farm was, the Pyros still might solve his Dragster problem.

  “What the heck would I do that for?” Eddie said, laughing. “That’s how Blaze did things. Him and that psycho sister of his. My way’s better. But listen, seriously: if you’re cool, I’ll put in a good word for you. Maybe when they get their stuff back they’ll forgive you.” He shrugged. “Best I can do. I’m actually really cool once you get to know me.”

  Jack nodded. “I see that now.”

  Eddie told Richard and Kyle to load up the back of the Humvee with the canned goods, snacks, and the rest of the prescription medicine. Afterward, he put Jack in the front-side passenger seat and made the others sit in the back.

  “Can I have one of those snacks?” Richard said to Eddie.

  “Me too?” Kyle said.

  “Didn’t you eat before we left?” Eddie said angrily.

  The boys said they’d forgotten to, and Eddie was forced to relent.

  “Make sure you throw the wrappers out,” he said. “I don’t want them thinking we ate their stuff. This is our ticket in. We can’t screw it up.”

  Richard and Kyle wolfed their snacks down and threw the wrappers out the window.

  Eddie backed down the ramp and then headed west on 66.

  “Blaze said your gang’s somewhere called Front Royal,” he said about thirty minutes later. “I’ve heard of it. Didn’t know where it was. Anyway, let me know where I gotta turn.”

  Jack still didn’t know what to do and felt increasingly worried. If he’d held that piece of information back—the name of the town—he could have taken them to Warrenton, then said he had to go to the bathroom and made a run for it.

  He tried not to swear. Eddie had already proven himself a killer. There wasn’t any way to escape without getting shot or causing an accident. But maybe he could talk his way out of it—offer some value to Carter other than revenge.

  It used to be warring nations would have peace talks. In Jack’s case, he could offer a conditional surrender. Conditional, because he’d never reveal the location of the cabins, and he’d never betray his friends. But he was willing to offer a certain amount of dried beef—maybe some chopped wood or scavenged gear—in exchange for being left alone. Tribute, basically. Like in a real war. Then, come spring, he’d load everyone on the bus and find a new location—with their tails between their legs, sure, but alive, and not under anyone’s thumb.

  It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was the one he had. He’d figure out how to explain the whole Eddie-thinks-I-stole-your-snacks problem when it came up.

  “All right,” he said, pointing at the exit sign. “That’s the one.”

  “Finally,” Eddie said and slowed. He turned and looked behind him. “Kyle—gimme a pack of cookies. Chocolate, not oatmeal. And throw out the wrapper.”

  The streets of Front Royal were empty. Jack was wary. Surely the gang would be on alert after losing five of their people. But when Eddie drove past the headquarters, the cars were all gone. The shot up windows, Jack noted, were now covered over with cardboard.

  Kyle and Richard got out and knocked on a few doors, but nobody answered.

  Back in the Humvee, Eddie cast him a suspicious glance. “You sure this is the place?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t …” Through the rearview mirror, Jack noticed a car pull out from a gas station parking lot, heading their way. “I think that’s them.”

  “What the heck?” Eddie said, looking around and then back. “What should I do?”

  “I don’t know. You’re in charge, remember?”

  Eddie slowed down, drove through an intersection, and stopped. The car behind them stopped just inside the intersection and waited.

  “Maybe you should get out,” Kyle said. “See what they want.”

  Eddie turned around. “No. You get out and see. Go talk to them. And leave your gun on the seat. We’re here as friends.”

  “But I don’t want to get out. Why don’t you make Richard for once? I always—”

  Out of nowhere, Richard hit him with the back of his fist. When Kyle yelped he hit him again and shouted, “Get out of the stupid car, wimp!”

  “But I don’t wanna!” Kyle wailed, reluctantly opening the door.

  Richard turned sideways in the seat and shoved him with both feet. Kyle fell into the street halfway and hung precariously by a loose seatbelt. Eddie, ever helpful, jerked the vehicle forward and Kyle fell the rest of the way. When he hit the brakes, the door snapped back, slammed shut, and he locked all the doors.

  Kyle got up and pounded furiously on the windows, pulling door handles, and blubbering nonstop in terror.

  Eddie lowered the back window an inch and yelled, “Just go see what they want, you big baby! We’ll be right here!”

  “Come on, let me in! Please! Please!”

  They yelled back and forth for about a minute, and Jack’s head—still not fully recovered from being bashed with a rock—began to throb. Eventually, Eddie backed toward the intersection, with Kyle keeping pace, staring at the waiting car and crying.

  Abruptly, the car backed up a few feet, pulled a tight turn, and sped off down a different road.

  “What the …?” Eddie said. “Did you see that? I don’t get it.” He looked at Jack for an explanation and got a shrug in reply.

  “I’m just a prisoner.”

  “Shut up,” Eddie said. He unlocked the door for Kyle to get back in. “This place is weird, man.”

  They continued cautiously forward. More intersections, then a different car shot out of nowhere and blocked them. Eddie reversed and turned around—only to find his escape blocked by another car.

  “I ain’t getting out this time,” Kyle said, covering his head when Richard tried to hit him again.

  “Knock it off!” Eddie shouted. “I’ll do it, you stupid wimps.”

  “Want me to hold your gun?” Jack said.

  Eddie glared at him, cut the engine, and got out. He approached this newest car with his hands in the air. Just like before, when he got close, the car sped up and shot off. The first car was still there, though, blocking the other way.

  Eddie swore and came back.

  “Screw this. I’m getting out of here.”

  He started it up and sped back the way they’d come. They made it through three intersections before more cars zoomed in and blocked them. Grimly, he tried to lose them in a residential section. After a confusion of turns, he pulled onto one of the major roads bisecting the town.

  “Which way’s the interstate?” Eddie said.

  “Back the way we came, then take a left,” Jack said.

  Eddie shook his head and kept going, taking more turns at random, passing dealerships and restaurants and office build
ings. A few minutes later, four more cars pulled out and blocked the way, causing him to stop and turn around again. This time, the cars weren’t content to wait and let them run away. They tore after them at high speed, easily catching the slower, bulkier vehicle. Then someone nudged them from behind. Then they did it again.

  “Make them stop!” Kyle screamed.

  “He’s trying!” Richard yelled.

  Eddie absorbed each bump as best he could, but they came harder and harder, causing him to fishtail. He jerked the wheel of the ponderous Humvee to keep it straight. A minute later, he took an unlucky hit that bumped them into a curb. The vehicle spun around in a circle and suddenly shut off. Two more cars roared in and they were surrounded.

  Boys and girls jumped from every car pointing guns at them.

  Jack knew he was well and truly screwed at this point. The Dragsters hadn’t been content to communicate what they wanted. No, they wanted to play. Probably because they were bored. He knew how cruel bored kids could be.

  “Jack, do something,” Eddie said, pointing his pistol at him. “Go out there and talk to them. Tell them you’re my prisoner for what you did. Please!”

  “Fine,” he said, and got out with his hands raised.

  A girl with blond hair rushed forward and pointed a revolver at his face.

  “Hello,” he said. “My name’s—”

  “Don’t care what your name is, dummy,” she said, and shot a round over his head.

  The various Dragsters laughed, pointed, and fired more shots into the air. Yelling and crying from the Humvee added to the weirdness of the situation.

  Rather than freak out too, the situation had an oddly calming effect on him.

  “As I was saying, my name’s Jack. I think Carter wants me alive, at least for a while, so uh …” He couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “Take me to your leader.”

  A boy with a pistol-gripped shotgun whistled for attention. “You say your name’s Jack? Jack what?”

  “Jack Ferris?” he said. “I, uh, stole some of your grain—real sorry about that, by the way. I’m here to—”

  “Wait a minute,” the boy said, coming forward with his gun pointed thoughtlessly at him, finger on the trigger. “You’re the Jack Ferris? From the Rippers? Greg’s gang?”