She crept deeper into the room until she heard moans and soft sobs. She holstered the Mossberg and pulled her Glock, and used the attached flashlight, which she rarely utilized; that was the first place she’d shoot at when confronted by someone using a flashlight. She never failed a good hit, and often times it was a solid hit in the head. Although Tank knew this, he attached a flashlight to the top and laser to the bottom of the barrels anyway, thinking she’d use one or the other when the need required it.
Along the back wall were cages, and in each gage were two to three women. “Holy, shit,” Eric breathed and then hurried to the closest cage. When he opened it, two women crawled out. As Eric went from cage to cage, releasing the women, Jasmine continued a visual all the while thinking how badly she wanted to hurt Owen.
“You’ll take them with you, right?” Jasmine said more of as an order than a request.
“I was hoping we could go with you,” Eric responded.
“That’s not an option,” Jasmine said in an even more forceful tone.
Eric nodded. “With luck we’ll be in Oklahoma and you’ll be with Owen in a day or so.”
“How many vehicles work?” Jasmine asked one of the older women who looked as if she might have been a leader at one time.
“All of them. They’re under this building.” Jasmine looked around. “The entrance is around back,” the woman continued. “A small pickup, a van, a dozen or so motorcycles, plus a car. Enough to get us the hell out of here.”
She stared at the woman for a long beat and felt she could trust her. “Take me,” Jasmine said. To Eric, Jasmine continued, “Take them to your parents. Your father will know what to do.”
Jasmine followed the older woman back through the door she and Eric had come in and went around the back, which resembled a junk yard of old vehicles: cars, trucks, trailers and motorcycles. Parts were strewn about the ground, which to Jasmine looked more like a potential arsenal if a tornado touched down. Near the far end of the building was a ramp with an entrance—no doors—that led beneath the building.
“I’m surprised they had a garage under the building… if anything were to happen they’d lose their food source,” the older woman said in a tone filled with hate and anger. “Take me with you; I want to help you kill the son of a bitch.”
A harsh wind raced behind the building, kicking up dust and debris. Something cried out in the night. One of the women, Jasmine thought. A faint roar rumbled like a freight train in the distance.
As they crept down the ramp and into the darkened entrance, Jasmine handed the woman the same pistol Eric had carried. The woman two fisted the pistol as if she had experience using a handgun, keeping it pointed toward the ground and away from Jasmine. She acted as if she had special training, police maybe. She also had a look that said she would not hesitate pulling the trigger. She then went to the left of the entrance. Following her lead, Jasmine went to the right.
They stood by the entryway, peering into near-black darkness. Jasmine then peered into her mind’s eye and after a long moment, she pointed to the pickup. She knelt down to a crouch, and then down to her stomach. Pulling with her elbows, she crawled deeper into the garage. The older woman followed and crawled into the darkness behind her, stopping short when Jasmine touched the woman’s head. Jasmine then twisted toward the woman and lightly breathed, “There’s two in the bed of the pickup.” The woman nodded. “And a third over by the bikes… you do him but stay down until I shoot.” The woman nodded and crawled in the direction of the bikes.
The two women reached the bottom of the ramp at nearly the same time, and both rose into a crouch position. “Hey, assholes,” Jasmine shouted. When the two men stood, Jasmine took them out, two shots in rapid succession, before they could get a bead on her. When the man hiding behind the motorcycles stood to take Jasmine out, the woman shot him.
The percussion and screams raced up the ramp and out into the harsh wind. After a long moment, silence followed the screams up the ramp, disappearing out the door. A tornado roared off in the distance, reminding everyone how vulnerable they all were.
The two stayed crouched in the darkness for another couple of minutes, waiting to see if someone else would appear.
Jasmine stood first, and slowly went deeper into the garage. The older woman followed.
“You’ve had training,” Jasmine said, turning to the woman. “Law Enforcement or Army?”
“Oklahoma police. The platoon was captured and taken down so fast we didn’t know what hit us,” the woman answered. “Corporal Angela Tanner.”
“Please to meet you, sir,” Jasmine said, and then in a casual manner saluted her.
“They brought most of the women and half the men here. Seems Owen is a chicken shit and only takes weak or injured men and kids. From what I understand, whoever does the take down keeps most of the women,” Angela said while offhandedly acknowledging the salute. Out here under these conditions formalities didn’t matter much.
Angela went deeper into the garage and found the electric ignition switch, and turned on the lanterns. “These bastards are smart; I have to give them that. They’ve been living outside since the impact, and very few of them have died off. None from the elements—” she laugh inwardly, “Although I’ve heard Owen has a pick every now and then when his supplies run low.”
Angela pointed to a set of double doors. “In that room is enough food to feed these people for at least five years, why they turned cannibal mystifies me. They fed us well, and not one bite of human flesh…”
“Well, if you think about it, our normal diet consists of animals that do not eat animals, maybe they have the same thought when it comes to cannibalism,” Jasmine wondered aloud with a shrug.
“And that door there,” Angela continued, “is a room full of weapons, more than you can imagine.” She shook her head in disbelief. “When I get back and we’re sure this place is clear of assholes like these we’ll come back for the weapons—“
“And food,” Jasmine cut in. “Or advertise that there is food here and it can be used as an outpost.”
“Outpost,” Angela said more to herself. “Not a bad idea… especially since the tornadoes seem to bounce all around this place but never on it. For the last nine months I counted over thirty tornadoes go by and not one veered in this direction. It’s the same for Owen’s place.”
“Funny how that is… New weather pattern, I suppose,” said Jasmine as they walked the room, checking out the vehicles, determining what she should do next. She turned to Angela and said, “If you come with me, we split the bounty, fifty-fifty. But if you come with me, I won’t take your orders.”
“Officer Jasmine Cooper, your reputation precedes you,” Angela said in a serious military manner. “I want to make it home, alive. You lead, I follow, and we kill the son of a bitch. Deal?”
“Those two crotch rockets,” Jasmine said, nodding toward to two BSA 650 Super Bikes hidden in the corner. “We should be able to outrun a tornado and make it to Owen in no time.”
“Let’s get these vehicles topside and the women loaded and on their way,” Angela said, smiling with eyes that showed pure hatred. She looked as if she was thinking this was going to be fun.
It was then that Jasmine seemed to recognize her. She had met or seen her before.
Chapter 12
In a room inside the garage were more weapons than Jasmine had ever seen. Whenever the small band of outlaws was able to capture someone, they kept everything. The weapons and gear were in pristine condition as if they were proud of their souvenirs. The room also had shelves and drawers filled to capacity with money, jewelry, clothes, shoes, anything they felt was worth keeping, anything that at one time had a value and would maybe have a value once reconstruction started.
There were four other female Gendarmerie Police Officers captured and incarcerated when Angela Tanner’s platoon was taken down, and their weapons and gear were stored in the room. The women, along with the Cotter family, were fully arme
d and outfitted for defense and the elements. The four police officers had grown since captured and the elements no longer frightened them. Nor did Owen and his men. Angela had given them orders to shoot first, and then evaluate the situation. When they were captured, they were ambushed when they stopped to help a woman who looked trapped beneath a jeep. Not one officer kept a good visual while trying to dig the woman out. After they were captured, they realized the woman was simply lying beneath a staged accident. Afterwards, the woman was sent to Owen along with the men. Toby had discovered that the woman was incapable of bearing children and Owen had taken a liking to her for other reasons. Toby was ecstatic to please his master.
Jasmine and Angela sat on their BSA’s and watched as the small caravan disappeared into the darkness. Angela watched as her four friends and subordinates protected the rest of the group as if they were protecting their family. One of her teammates was badly wounded when they were captured but not badly enough to be spared being raped repeatedly and made pregnant. She delivered a small, premature, undernourished boy three weeks ago that was immediately taken to Owen.
“The odds of that baby being alive is slim to none,” Jasmine said as she keyed her rocket and cranked it over.
“We know that,” Angela answered, “but that doesn’t mean we don’t look for the bastard who killed him, cooked him, and ate him, even if it’s not one and same person. Clear?”
“Roger that.”
Jasmine was taken aback when Angela checked her pistol. It was an exact duplicate of hers. “My baby brother made it for me,” Angela said, smiling, noticing that Jasmine was eyeing the pistol. “He made two for you and one for me. Sent it to me just before we took off. It is a remarkable piece of work if I say so myself.”
Stunned, Jasmine didn’t know what to say.
“You do realize that Tank is madly in love with you and will move mountains to be with you? So you better get that skinny butt of yours back there or I’ll kill you myself,” Angela continued, laughing at Jasmine’s expression.
“But he… he and I… we never… I didn’t…”
“Oh, but he would if you’d get your head out of that pansy’s ass you been dating,” Angela said with a chuckle and smirk. “Someone told me you were psychic, but I’m not so sure I believe that if you can’t tell that a man as huge as Tank, who drops everything he’s doing to help you, isn’t in love with you. Either you’re blind or your psychic skills suck.”
Embarrassed, Jasmine didn’t know what to say. She watched as Angela cranked over her rocket and nodded in the direction they would head. They took off into the night. The roar of the rockets overrode the roar of a new tornado that skipped up and down past the camp.
Little did Angela know, she would become the commander of the first outpost and the movement to push the government to come out of their shell, the safe haven they called the City of… The prison in which she was kept would soon become the Outpost of Kansas-Oklahoma barrens.
Chapter 13
Jasmine led the race across the Kansas-Oklahoma barrens at over one hundred miles an hour on a roadway that somehow managed to stay somewhat smooth and clear of debris. The superbike was a thrilling ride, even under dark skies and the brown-fogged mist that hung in the air she could feel the rush of being alive. It was as if she did not have a worry in the world. Maybe knowing she was going to die made living even that much more enjoyable. Maybe knowing she was going to die, she didn’t care if she took unnecessary chances. Or, it could have been just knowing she was getting closer to the Last Pharmacist kept her pumped up. Whatever it was it was thrilling.
She heard Angela come up beside her and slowed until they were beside each other. Then Jasmine fell in behind her. After about fifteen minutes, Angela swept off to the right and pulled up behind a cement wall that was once a supporting wall for a bridge that had one time stretched across the road they were using. Angela switched off the bike, dropped the stand, and dismounted.
Jasmine pulled up. “What’s up?”
Angela nodded to the bike and Jasmine switched it off.
“Get your rifle,” Angela said.
“Shit,” Jasmine cursed. “I take it, Tank told you about my sniper rifle.” Angela nodded. “Remind me to give him a piece of my mind when I see him.”
Angela laughed. “He and I are very close, and neither one of us ever believed you and I would ever meet.” Angela started across the road. “On top of that wall is a perfect spot to see Owen’s little community, and if my stomach is right it’s getting close to dinner time. We’ll be able to see who is who and you might be able to take the son of bitch out from here. After that, we go in and kill every fucker who is one of Owen’s finest, take a couple of pictures, and do whatever else you need to do to prove you killed him. We then let everyone else out and I’ll take them on to Oklahoma.”
Jasmine followed Angela up the hill. About two feet from the top of the hill was a cement platform that supported the bridge before it crumbled and was then swept away with one of thousands of tornadoes.
“And you saw this, how?” Jasmine asked with a bit of skepticism in her voice.
“Don’t freak,” Angela answered. “Owen had the hots for me for a while until he realized I wasn’t an easy fuck, and they dragged me back and forth between his and Toby’s camp.”
“Toby’s camp?” Jasmine asked, surprised. There was no way that imbecile ran the camp., she thought.
“Believe it or not. He was the dumbest fuck there but Owen trusted him, and he protected me, never knowing if Owen would change his mind or not—” she chuckled, “it pays to be blond and have big tits… even after the impact some men never learned to look past what a woman looks like and care more for their safety.” Angela walked onto the platform. “This road leads into Owen’s camp and once when I tried to escape I made it this far—” she laughed, “I thought I could hide here…” She looked at Jasmine’s expression. “What? I said I was blond and have big tits. I didn’t say I was smart. If I was smart I wouldn’t be here.”
Jasmine laughed as she knelt against the dirt wall. She pulled her binoculars up, dropped her goggles around her neck, and then peered at the camp. Angela was right. There was a gathering of about thirty men or more, lining up for dinner and being served by several women.
The sun peeked out between the dusty golden-brown haze and shone down on the group as they stood in line like a gathering at a buffet table with no worries in the world. Jasmine looked up and, for one brief moment, missed living in Garland, Texas. She was young, around six or so, but she could remember standing in line at a Luby’s cafeteria with her father, fighting over the chocolate pudding.
“Crap. How many?” Jasmine asked, amazed at the sheer number. She didn’t have a clue that Owen’s little army was as large as it appeared.
“Christ. Didn’t Commander Herne tell you…?” Jasmine shook her head no. “Owen has around a hundred men. They’re all around this fucking place and everyone of them are crazier than hell.”
Jasmine put her binoculars on the hill, put her goggles back on, and then opened her pack and removed several pieces of equipment and gently laid them down next to her pack. Then one by one, she assembled her BMG 50 caliber sniper’s rifle. “How far away are we?” She asked as she lifted the rifle, gently placed it on the hill, and then looked through the scope. After a moment, she slowly twisted dials until the camp came into clear focus. Even through the golden-brown haze, she could see everything perfectly. If I make it back, I’m going to marry Tank, Jasmine thought.
Angela lay beside her, peering through Jasmine’s binoculars, now becoming her spotter. “Exactly a half a mile,” Angela answered. “See that fat fuck sitting up on his throne, that’s Owen.”
Jasmine looked up, then around, looking for something to measure wind and direction. She dropped her goggles, and then with her binoculars, she slowly looked around the camp. Then she saw it. One of the women who were serving the men wore a face scarf and just behind the knot, one of the ends wa
s billowing.
She handed Angela the binoculars. “See the woman, her scarf?”
“Yes,” Angela answered.
Jasmine went back to her scope and found her. She then trained the rifle on Owen. “Be my spotter. I need to know when everything is calm… oh, and do me a favor, just whisper the word calm, when the conditions are right.”
After several minutes, Angela whispered, “Calm,” and through her binoculars, Angela watched as Owen’s head exploded. Then she watched as Owen’s guards fell one by one, and then watched as a truck exploded, and then another, and then a third one. Chaos reigned as Jasmine slowly unloaded her clip. However, what impressed Angela more than anything did, not one bullet went wasted. Jasmine took out the major guards and vehicles, and set the men running in sheer confusion. Uncle Baul was right, Jasmine thought. Killing Owen would cause his army to collapse.
“Remind me when I get back to rip off Tank’s clothes,” Jasmine said as she loaded a new clip.
“He’ll have a heart attack,” Angela answered. “The tower.” Jasmine nodded her acknowledgement. “Believe it or not, that’s their fuel storage.” Two seconds after Jasmine had heard the word fuel the tower exploded. The repercussion sent buildings, vehicles, and unfortunately some of the people they wanted to save, flying in every direction. “Damn…” Angela whispered. “I didn’t have a clue…”
“Neither did I...”
Chapter 14
The onslaught within the camp was even more forceful than Jasmine and Angela thought. Even though the tower explosion killed most of Owen’s men, the remainder within the camp were killing each other in sheer panic, which made it that much more difficult for them to get in and get the survivors out.
4POCALYPSE - Four Tales Of A Dark Future Page 17