To Steal a March: Book 11 of the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (Surviving the Fall Series - Book 11)

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To Steal a March: Book 11 of the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (Surviving the Fall Series - Book 11) Page 7

by Mike Kraus


  Jason nudged Mark. “That’s our cue. Get ready.” He spoke into Mark’s ear, his voice barely above a whisper just like it had been when they spent the day in the ditch.

  The sound of under-the-breath grumbling accompanied slow, plodding footsteps as the chastised member of the group walked around to the back of the trailer. Jason held his breath, half-expecting his jury-rigged lock on the back of the trailer to fall apart upon being looked at.

  “What the hell?” The confused exclamation was accompanied by a rattle of the trailer doors. Another, stronger rattle followed, then came a shout. “Hey, what’d you do to this thing?”

  “Do? I did what he said and got it fixed.”

  “What’d you fix it with? Glue? Stupid thing won’t open!”

  The second voice drew closer and the doors continued to rattle and shake as the two men worked to try and open them. “What the… this isn’t what I did.”

  “Yeah, sure. Stop making excuses already.”

  “No, I swear! I didn’t put the cord inside the trailer. How could I have done that?”

  “Because you’re stupid, that’s how. Just go get the others; we need to pry this thing open and undo your screwup.”

  More mumbling and grumbling followed as the chastised man walked off and shouted at the other three. The rattling and thumping on the back of the trailer ceased for a moment and Jason seized his opportunity. He quickly moved to the back of the trailer and removed the board that had been keeping the doors shut, then unwound the bungee cord and reconnected it to the metal loop on the floor. The change would keep the doors shut, but would make it easy for the men to open them by simply cutting the cord.

  Jason moved back behind the boxes with Mark once again and picked up the shotgun shell device and fiddled with the trigger, changing the timer from a ten-second delay to a three-second delay. “As soon as the doors open,” he whispered, “I’ll arm it and throw. As soon as it goes off, I’ll start shooting first. You follow up behind me and watch my back and sides. Got it?”

  Mark nodded and Jason took a deep breath, bracing himself for the inevitable. Seconds turned into minutes, both ticking by in slow agony as he and Mark waited for the men to return. When they finally heard the voice of the first man, it was filled with annoyance.

  “Took you all long enough!”

  “He said to get supplies, so we got supplies. And do we really all need to be here to help you figure out how to open a door?”

  “Why don’t you try it, tough guy, and see how easy it is for you?”

  More rattling came from the doors, then the sound of a metallic click, then the bungee cord snapped as it was severed from the outside with a quick slice from a sharpened blade. The broken door began to swing open on its own accord, revealing a group of four men standing around just outside. The one who had first tried to open the trailer threw his hands up and began cursing loudly while the others laughed. They all turned toward the trailer and one reached for the second door, pulled it open and was greeted by a smack in the head by a small, hard object.

  “What the—”

  The object hit the ground and the words barely came out of the man’s mouth when a loud, ear-piecing bang echoed from the end of the trailer. A scream accompanied the tail end of the small explosion and the man whom Jason had hit square on the forehead with the small shotgun shell bomb collapsed, grabbing for his calves as though he could somehow pull out the pellets and their associated pain.

  The next several seconds played out in slow motion from Jason’s perspective, but for the other three men standing behind the one closest to the back of the trailer, it was all over before they realized what was happening. Momentarily disoriented by the makeshift explosive device, they never saw Jason stand up from behind the pile of cardboard boxes and take aim at them. He walked forward as he fired, putting four rounds into the center of mass of his first target.

  After the injured man was downed Jason moved onto the next three in line, finger squeezing the trigger smoothly as he kept the rifle pressed tight against his shoulder. A firm hand on the grip kept the recoil in check and each piece of hot brass that bounced off the floor, walls and ceiling of the trailer meant another round had connected with its intended target.

  By the time Jason reached the back of the trailer, all four men standing outside were on the ground, gasping and choking from debilitating pain or lying still as blood drained from already-fatal chest and head wounds. Jason felt a presence next to him and glanced over to see Mark standing nearby. The boy’s eyes were cold and his expression hardened as he looked over the group of bodies.

  “Where’s the fifth one?” Mark whispered to Jason.

  “No idea. Stay behind me. We need to find him before he gets the drop on us.” Jason took a step out of the trailer and swung to the left, checking on the right side of the truck and trailer. The area was empty and he waved for Mark to follow behind. “C’mon. We’ll use the truck as cover while we—”

  Jason’s instruction was interrupted by the sharp report of a rifle spitting rounds from somewhere near the edge of the house. Mark yelped and scrambled as the incoming fire thudded against the back end of the trailer, tripping over himself and nearly dropping his pistol as he clawed to get around to the opposite side. Jason reached out and pulled Mark in and panic seized his heart as he saw a streak of blood across Mark’s face.

  “Are you hit?!” The words stuck in his throat as he forced them out, ignoring all pretense of stealth.

  “No, no I’m good. Bashed my head on the door handle when he started firing.” Mark reached up and wiped his arm across his forehead. He grimaced at the blood and wiped it on his pants. “Mom’s going to be mad about the blood stains.”

  “She’ll manage. Now stay low while I deal with this joker, okay?” Rounds continued to hit the trailer, slower than they were originally, but still steadily enough to make Jason and Mark both not want to take a peek out. Jason swallowed his fear and moved up along the side of the box trailer to the back of the truck where he ducked down and continued around to the front of the vehicle. From there he crouched down and peeked underneath the truck, looking for the source of the shots. The source, unfortunately, found him first.

  Two shots hit the ground just beneath the truck, the second one mere inches from Jason’s face. He couldn’t help but let out a pained shout as he shot back up and started hurrying around to the right side of the truck where he could put the wheel in between him and the shooter. He was almost there when he looked down the length of the trailer to see Mark turn around the end of the trailer and fire seven slow, clean and steady shots from his pistol. Each shot was slow and methodical, and by the time he reached the fourth there was a howl of pain from near the house.

  Three more rounds followed after the fourth before Mark turned back around behind the trailer and stood still, his eyes wide and his breathing heavy. “Mark!” Jason called to him. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. He’s not, though.”

  ***

  Jason didn’t realize just how amped up he had been on adrenaline until he nearly collapsed while walking from the edge of the house back to the truck. Mark had been with him, though, and kept him steady until he could sit down in the back of the trailer. The sun was low in the sky and the shadows were long. The air felt chilled and Mark zipped up his jacket and shoved his hands into his pockets as he scooted closer to Jason.

  The older man wrapped an arm around Mark and spoke softly. “You did good here today. Your mom and dad would be proud.”

  “What are we going to do about her and the rest?”

  “Well,” Jason said slowly, a thin smile spreading across his face, “if I know your mother, Tina and my Sarah at all, they’re already cooking up something. Tina’s bound to have let them know what we did, so they’ll hopefully be ready for us when we go in guns blazing.”

  “Is that what we’ll do?”

  “More than that.” Jason scratched his chin and patted Mark on the arm. “Come on. Let’s he
ad down to the barns and take a look around. I think I might have an idea of what we can do.”

  Chapter 16

  Ellisville, VA

  “They did what?” Dianne didn’t dare look over at Tina as she scooped another cup full of dirt and sand into the nearest sack. Over the course of the day she had figured out what speaking volume allowed her to communicate with the children and Sarah while simultaneously not attracting the attention of the guards.

  “They got on the trailer back to the house. They’re going to stop the guys with the trailer then come back here for us. We need to be ready for them.”

  “How could you let Mark do that?!” Dianne risked a quick glare, but Tina didn’t look up. Her face was red and swollen and she had bruises already starting to appear on her arms. While Dianne was angered by what Tina told her, she had to admit that the older woman was handling the current situation well.

  “You’d rather him be here? Or still hiding in that ditch, trying to find a way to get across an open road and rescue you? Jason’s with him.” Tina glanced at Sarah. “They’ll both be fine. I’m sure of it.”

  “She’s right, Dianne.” Sarah’s whisper was barely audible. “It’s not a good choice, but it’s the best one they had. And now we know that they’re alive.”

  “But for how long?” Dianne finished tying off the sack and pushed it aside before wiping a filthy sleeve across her brow. The sky was dark overhead but a loud generator kept a series of halogen lights running, though they flickered in time with the fluctuations of the generator. The back door to the community center creaked open and Nealson stepped out, his left hand holding a cigarette and his right hand resting on the handle of a revolver tucked into a leather holster.

  “Midnight!” He crowed, a satisfied smile on his face. “Time for food and sleep!”

  “Food?” Tina raised an eyebrow.

  “Don’t get excited.” Dianne looked away from Nealson, unable to stand the sight of him. “They gave us so-called lunch. Josie threw up from it.”

  “So glad to see the little family’s growing bigger!” Nealson walked across the grass, flicking his cigarette to the side before coming to a halt before Dianne, Tina and the two children. The other four prisoners were huddled together across the yard, watching Nealson’s every move.

  “Let the kids go, you monster.” Sarah spoke softly; loud enough for him to hear, but with a growling, menacing undertone.

  “Go where? Out to fend for themselves in the wild? Nah.” He pulled another cigarette from his shirt pocket, squatted down and lit it. “What I can do, though, is promise you some edible food, extra clean water and a soft spot for your heads.” He looked at Sarah while taking a long, slow drag. “If you tell me where the others from the house got to.”

  “They died. I told you that already.” Tina straightened her back, trying to draw attention to herself.

  “And yet I don’t believe you. Funny how that works.” Nealson sniffed and stuck the cigarette in the edge of his mouth, then stood up and nodded at a pair of men standing nearby. “Take ‘em all inside. We’ll continue this conversation in the morning.”

  Dianne’s group along with the other four slowly stood, stretching their legs as they shuffled toward the building. Josie began to weep uncontrollably and Dianne put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, her entire body seizing up in anger over not being able to protect her children. Jacob was doing slightly better but Dianne could tell that he was confused more than anything else and dearly wished that he could go back home.

  Because the two groups weren’t bound to each other but had instead been separated to perform two distinct tasks, Dianne, her two children, Sarah and Tina were a fair distance closer to the community center and under greater supervision than the four strangers whose names were still unknown. With Sarah in the lead, the two children behind her, then Dianne and finally Tina pulling up the rear, the group shambled toward the center, all of them wondering what was going to come from their first night as prisoners.

  Tina glanced up and off to the left, her gaze drawn by the sight of something in the corner of her eye. In the distance, toward Ellisville, emerged a twinkling pair of yellow headlights accompanied by the low rumble of an engine. Nealson, who was still standing near the back of the community center, walked to the corner of the building upon hearing the sound.

  “You,” he shouted, turning and pointing to all but two of the men standing near the door, “out front now. Truck’s getting back and I want the supplies off the trailer and inside!”

  One of the men grumbled as he walked by, shaking his head in frustration. “What’s the point of having these people do work for us if we have to do stuff like this?”

  Tolerating no dissent or disagreements, Nealson stepped forward and grabbed the man by the arm, swinging him around into a headlock. Dianne’s group slowed their pace as they watched Nealson growl at the man, hissing in his ear too quietly to be heard. The effect was instant, though, as all traces of fight went out of the man and he submitted to Nealson, holding his hands in the air and pleading for his life.

  The thought of attempting an escape flashed through Dianne’s mind, but she threw the idea out as soon as it appeared, knowing full well that they wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance of making it very far with the chains on their legs. Adding to that the fact that Nealson was armed and had a group of minions on the other side of the building meant that fleeing was not a good idea. When someone is trapped in a bad situation, though, sometimes a bad idea feels like the only option available.

  So it went with the group of four, the ones who Dianne’s group hadn’t even gotten a chance to speak with. Three men and one woman, all looking like they were in their thirties or older, turned in unison and began shuffling away toward the baseball fields as soon as Nealson turned away. Nealson’s preoccupation with the man he was chastising continued as he let the man go and shoved him to the ground.

  Beyond the baseball fields was a grove of trees and a few buildings, but they were far enough away that any rational mind would have immediately known that it would be impossible to make it. Healthy individuals who hadn’t been pushed to the breaking point for an extended period of time and who weren’t literally shackled to one another might have stood a slim chance. The group of four, however, didn’t make it beyond the bleachers.

  Nealson turned and saw the four figures vanishing out from beneath the bright halos cast by the halogen lights. He opened his mouth to shout at them but stopped himself, shaking his head and sighing instead. In one smooth motion he drew his handgun, took aim at the man at the back of the group and fired three rounds. The man cried out in pain and fell to the ground, the force of his fall pulling the chain taut and dragging the women down as well. Nealson turned and looked at Dianne as he walked toward the group, shrugging and sighing.

  “Some people, right?”

  ***

  While Nealson was busy herding Dianne’s group into the community center and killing one of the members of the other group of prisoners, two individuals sitting in a truck a quarter mile away were trying to deal with their nerves. Jason sat behind the wheel, driving the truck at just a few miles an hour while Mark sat next to him holding a rifle scope up to his eye. The slow speed had many purposes, including ensuring that the gang at the center knew that the truck was coming as well as giving Mark ample time to get the lay of the land. The biggest reason for driving slowly, though, was to ensure that the fragile contraption in the back of the trailer wasn’t set off prematurely.

  “Six out front. Wait. No. Eight of them now.”

  “Eight? How many do they have left?!”

  “That looks like all of them, maybe. Wait… no I see one more inside. Now two. One of the ones inside is the leader.”

  “Red shirt himself, eh?” Jason’s eyes narrowed. “I hope he’s one of the ones standing at the back when they open it up.”

  “Are you sure it’s going to work? We didn’t get a chance to test it out.”

  “
Oh it’ll work, all right. Just remember what you’re supposed to do, okay?”

  “I’ll handle it.” Mark visibly stiffened as he focused back on the scope.

  “I know you will.” A short, uncomfortable pause followed. “Still see six out front?”

  “Yeah. There’s more movement inside, but I can’t tell who it is. Maybe mom?”

  “Possibly. I don’t see anyone outside. Check out back.”

  Mark turned his head slightly before shaking it. “Nothing.”

  “Probably brought them inside for the night. That’s a good thing.”

  “What if they make them unload the trailer?”

  “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  Mark looked like he might say something else but sat quietly instead, staring through the scope with one eye as they crept closer to the community center.

  ***

  Inside the building, Dianne closed her eyes as three more gunshots rang out, a long moment of silence hanging in the air between each of them. She, Sarah, Tina and the two children sat in a corner along with a gallon of water and a few bars of granola which the guard inside had given to them.

  “Why would he do that?” Tina whispered to Dianne. “He’s killing free labor.”

  “As an example to us. If we try to escape, he kills us all.”

  Tina snorted and narrowed her eyes. “That truck coming in hasn’t arrived yet. It’s got to be Jason and Mark.”

  “If it’s them,” Sarah looked between Dianne and Tina, “then Jason’s going to have a surprise in store. Just watch and see.”

  ***

  “Th’ hell took you so long!?”

  Jason squirmed under the scarf wrapped around his face. It smelled like body odor, stale beer and cigarettes. Between it, the hat and the thick jacket he had taken from one of the men he and Mark had killed, though, he looked like he belonged in the truck. At least at a distance. Or so he hoped.

 

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