Badlands Trilogy (Book 3): Out of the Badlands

by Brian J. Jarrett

  “You’re hit,” Dario said, the words sounding like they’d been spoken underwater. He barely heard himself.

  Autumn shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

  Dario pointed to the blood stain on her dress.

  She pointed back at him, her eyes wide. Dario looked down and saw a gaping hole in his abdomen. Blood poured from the wound, saturating his clothes and the already blood-soaked seat.

  How had everything gone so wrong, so fast? he thought. Black spots began to cloud his vision. He felt cold. The world spun. He barely noticed Autumn open the passenger door and leap from the truck.

  It all had gone so wrong, so fast.

  The black spots swarmed his vision and then, thankfully, everything went dark.

  * * *

  The truck slowed as it approached, jerking to a quick stop as the driver’s foot fell off the clutch and killed the engine. The driver slumped forward in the seat as a woman leapt from the passenger seat. Barnes’s men had made a direct kill shot, pulling off the plan successfully. The men rushed toward the stopped vehicle, yelling at the people in the back to throw down their weapons. From Alice’s vantage point behind the van she could see two people in the back—a white woman and a black man.

  The man yelled and began firing, spraying a line of bullets that mowed down one of Barnes’s men, the one they called Stooge. Barnes’s crew returned fire, peppering the man’s body with a spray of bullets. His body jerked before collapsing to the bed of the truck and out of Alice’s view.

  More bullets came from the truck as the woman fired off several rounds. A bullet from Barnes’s well-placed snipers struck the woman in the head and she went down hard and fast.

  The sound of screaming replaced the sound of gunfire as the redheaded girl who’d bailed from the truck ran away. She tore across the pavement, but two of Barnes’s men swooped in and gripped her by the arms before she could make it far.

  A few moments of silence ensued as Barnes surveyed the rest of the truck, searching for any survivors. A quick check revealed the truck to be empty of people and Alice felt her disappointment rise. Not a trace of Ed Brady.

  The men yanked the redhead to her feet. She blubbered as she cried, begging for her life. Alice quickly saw her chance; maybe Brady wasn’t on the truck, but if he was still alive then it was possible that the redhead might know where he was.

  Pouncing on what might be her only opportunity to get Brady alive, Alice walked out from behind the van and approached the girl.

  “Whoa,” Barnes said as he saw her approach. “You stay where you are.”

  “Our deal,” Alice said. “Ed Brady. I want him and he’s not on the truck. This bitch might know where he is.”

  Barnes considered. “Okay then. You make her talk. She’s all yours.” He stepped back to allow Alice room.

  Alice approached the girl. Tears ran down her cheeks, leaving wet streaks in the dust that covered her face. Glass shards clung to her red hair.

  “Ed Brady,” Alice said. “Where is he?”

  The girl sobbed uncontrollably, mumbling as snot dripped from her nose.

  “Answer now,” Alice said.

  “Don’t kill me,” the girl pleaded. “Please, don’t—”

  Alice drew back and smacked the girl hard across the face, silencing her. “Where is he?”

  The girl looked up at her. A small trick of blood appeared from her nose. “Please.”

  Alice smacked the girl again, harder. She could feel her anger rising. The bitch had information surely; why wouldn’t she talk?

  “Ed Brady,” Alice repeated. “Where is he? Tell me and you might live through this.” Alice glanced at Barnes. He stood off to the side, smiling as his men climbed all about the truck, searching the contents.

  The girl’s sobbing began to subside to only light crying. She was coming around. Alice decided to try a different approach. Honey to catch the flies, rather than vinegar. “Tell me where he is,” she said, her voice changing, assuming a softer edge. “Just tell me where he is and we’ll let you go. I promise.”

  The redhead lifted her head. “Promise.”

  “Of course I do. Us girls gotta stick together, eh?” Alice gently touched the redhead’s arm. “What’s your name, honey?”

  “Autumn,” the girl replied.

  “That’s a pretty name,” Alice said. The girl smiled. “Autumn, tell me where he is. Please.”

  “He was with us,” Autumn said. “A while back.”

  “Good,” Alice said, smiling. So close now. “That’s good. Where is he now? Where can I find him?”

  “He’s…”

  “Yes. Go on,” Alice said.

  “He’s—”

  The side of Autumn’s head exploded in a chunky red mess as her body went slack. Taken by surprise, the men holding her let go, allowing Autumn’s body to collapse to the pavement. A second later, Alice heard the report of the gunshot.

  “Get down!” Barnes yelled, but by then two more of his men had dropped to the ground, bullets in them, taken out by an unseen gunman. Alice could hear the whiz of the bullets as they struck flesh and bone, the report echoing a moment later. Instinctively she ducked, searching for cover. She glanced at Autumn to find her lying on the pavement, blood pooling around her ruined head.

  Alice crouched as she attempted to get away from the hail of bullets being laid down. She didn’t know where the gunfire had originated from and wasn’t sure where to run. She ducked behind the cab of the truck as bullets whined, zipping through the air around her.

  At the cab she crouched and looked around. She spied the driver’s body lying on the pavement. It had fallen there after Barnes’s men opened the driver’s side door. In his waistband she saw a pistol still wedged. She took a look around and dove toward the body, yanking the firearm free.

  Around her, men yelled as the sound of an engine roared in the distance. Whoever was doing the shooting had come to collect. She leaned against the truck’s tire, considering her options. She had to hide. It was her only hope for survival. She was too exposed out on the open road and she didn’t even know from where her attackers had come.

  A window in a derelict car exploded as a stray bullet zipped by. She glanced around and found a pickup truck with flat tires sitting fifteen feet away. If she hurried she might make it. What she’d do after that she didn’t know, but for now it was the only plan she had.

  Alice took a deep breath before pushing herself to her feet. She didn’t hesitate; she ran toward the truck, crouching with her head down as voices shouted behind her. She didn’t know if they’d seen her or not and she didn’t turn to find out. Each step took an eternity. She expected at any moment to feel a bullet tear through her body.

  But after her long run she made it to the truck without taking any fire. She got to her belly and scooted along the pavement, ignoring the pain as it shredded her exposed skin. Road rash was the least of her problems now. She wriggled until she completely disappeared beneath the truck, curling herself up and making herself as small as possible.

  Once under the truck, she examined the pistol. The chamber was empty, so she racked a shell into the ready position. No safety, so she was ready to go. Now all she had to go on was the sound of the firefight. Had they seen her hide under the truck? Would they find her? Quite possibly, but she had the pistol and she’d at least take a few of them out before they got her.

  Alice waited beneath the truck, listening to the sound of gunfire and her rapid breathing as she waited.

  * * *

  The fighting lasted for some time. Alice didn’t know exactly how long, but it seemed like forever. Eventually the sound of the engine died off, replaced with random rapid gunfire. Someone had an automatic weapon of some sort and they weren’t afraid to use it.

  Men yelled. Some cried out in pain. The gunshots would come in quick succession and then die off, replaced with sporadic shots. Maybe they’d taken positions and were exchanging fire? She had no way of knowing.

  She
desperately watched, but could see no higher than car tires. Then, she saw movement. Barnes had fallen to the ground beside the flatbed truck. He held his left arm. Blood trickled through his fingers. He was unarmed and looking up at someone.

  Then another set of legs appeared. A man, walking slowly to where Barnes sat. The man walked with a slow and steady swagger, the walk of a man who knew he’d already won. They’d won, whoever these men were. They’d killed or captured Barnes’s men.

  “This is it for you, partner,” the man said. “Put up a good fight. Killed all my men. I almost wish you’d been on my team. If I wasn’t so pissed off right now, I might even ask you to join up.”

  “Fuck you,” Barnes said. “I’d never join you.”

  “That’s what they all say,” the man replied. “But it doesn’t fucking matter anyway.” He paused. “Say goodbye.”

  The man stepped further into Alice’s view. She sighted down the barrel, scooting out a little further until she could see his midsection. If she got it right, just right, she might be able to make the shot count.

  Alice aimed and pulled the trigger three times in succession. The pistol kicked and fought as she gripped it hard. A few seconds passed as she knew she missed. Not only had she missed, she’d given away her position. But just as she’d accepted her own death, the man’s knees buckled and he dropped to the pavement in a heap. Blood began to pool around him on the hot, gray pavement.

  Seeing her chance, Alice wriggled free from beneath the truck, scooting out into the bright daylight. She got to her feet quickly, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight. She walked toward the man’s body, pistol out and ready. He didn’t move. Instead, his open eyes stared blankly at the sky.

  Barnes watched her closely as she approached. “You did it,” he said. “You’re one tough broad.” He extended a hand. “Help me up.”

  Alice turned to him, cocking her head sideways. She raised the pistol.

  “Hey! We had a deal!” Barnes yelled.

  “Null and void now,” Alice said.

  She pulled the trigger two times, sending a bullet into Barnes’s chest and his forehead. He collapsed onto the pavement, jerking once before going slack.

  * * *

  Alice looked around and saw dead men everywhere. All of Barnes’s crew and apparently all of the attacking crew lay crumpled and bleeding on the highway and the surrounding scrubland. The man she’d killed—the man who’d been sure he was going to punch Barnes’s ticket—looked up at the blue sky above with dead, unseeing eyes, his curly, black hair dripping blood.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The smell of burnt gunpowder was thick in the air still, a fresh remnant of a gunfight she’d somehow survived. She smiled at the thought and a low, slightly hysterical laugh began to emerge from somewhere deep within. She felt it come on, growing stronger, until she laughed out loud in the silent air. It sounded crazy even to herself, but if she knew this then she figured she couldn’t be that crazy. Not any crazier than she’d already been.

  The laugh petered out and silence replaced it. Gunfire still rang in her ears, like sunspots after looking at the sun for too long. She glanced at Barnes again, enjoying the expression still on his face. The look of a man who’d thought he could best her, a man who’d underestimated her and paid the price.

  The same way Ed Brady would look when she put a bullet into him.

  But the problem now, of course, was finding him. The assholes lying dead around her had ruined her chance of getting any information out of the girl. All she knew now was that Ed was still alive, or had been alive recently. And if he was alive he had to be heading west, toward the docks in California. Without the truck, of course, but that wouldn’t stop him.

  She walked to the truck and inspected it. Three of its tires had been flattened by the random gunfire. With only one spare on board there’d be no replacing the other two which left the truck useless.

  Pistol in hand, she walked around the truck to inspect the other vehicles. If any of them still ran she had a chance to make it to California. She discovered the vehicle that had made all the noise earlier, some sort of decked out army truck covered in camouflage and flames. Whoever these guys were, they surely thought they were badasses. Alice chuckled to herself at this thought, knowing that they all lay dead around her. Some badasses they turned out to be.

  Not particularly interested in the attackers truck, Alice walked to Barnes’s van. She made a quick sweep of the inside to ensure no one remained inside. After confirming the vehicle to be empty, she got into the driver’s seat and reached for the ignition.

  No keys. They were probably on Barnes’s body. She hopped out, and after a quick search of the dead man’s pockets she found a set of car keys. “Thanks, asshole,” she said, grinning, before returning to the van and starting the engine. It roared to life, settling into a smooth idle.

  Satisfied it would run, Alice killed the engine and pocketed the keys. She walked around the vehicle, inspecting the tires. All four remained inflated, though the windows in the back had been shattered by stray bullets. No matter, she didn’t need windows. The van would be big enough to hold supplies and fuel, hopefully enough to get her to the coast.

  Alice walked to the bed of the truck and pulled herself up and into the bed. The dead black man and white woman lay in pools of dark, red blood. She didn’t recognize them from Kansas City. Must have been a picked up along the way, she figured. Either way, it didn’t matter who they were. She eyed the contents of the truck, spying the gas cans. A few had been punctured by stray bullets, but at least three dozen remained intact. She smiled at the find.

  Time to get started, she thought, tucking the pistol into her back pocket.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  “What now?” Jasper asked. “That asshole left us with nothing.”

  Ed paused, considering their options. He glanced at Trish and she gave him a slight smile. Despite the bleakness of their situation, it encouraged him. “We keep going,” he said to the group. “Not much else to do.”

  “But they took the truck,” Jasper said. “They’re long gone by now.”

  Ed looked around. A few cars sat parked inside the grounds of Tex’s compound. “What about one of these?” he said, gesturing.

  “We don’t even know if they run,” Terry said.

  “Then we need to find out.”

  “What’s the plan after that?” Jasper asked. “Let’s say we get one of these heaps running. What next? We don’t have any treated fuel left. Or any supplies. We don’t even have any guns.”

  Ed shrugged. “I don’t have an answer. We’ve traveled with less before. We’ll have to scavenge for supplies.”

  “There’s stuff here,” Emily said, breaking her usual silence. The group focused its attention on her. “Some food, medical supplies. Tex had guns, too. That guy who stole the truck, he didn’t take that stuff. He didn’t know about it.”

  “You know where this stuff is?” Trish asked.

  Emily nodded. “I do.”

  “Then let’s go get it,” Ed said.

  * * *

  They spent the next four hours gathering as much as they could. Emily’s medical supplies came with them, along with a large portion of dried and canned food. Ed didn’t allow Zach and Jeremy into the building, not with the carnage left behind from the massacre. He also didn’t allow the two teens into the building, instead relegating them to packing and stacking duties outside.

  Terry accompanied Ed back into the building, along with Emily. At the door, they paused. Ed glanced at Emily. “Can you do this? You can tell us where things are and we’ll collect everything if you need us to.”

  Emily shook her head. “No, I’ll go. It’ll be faster that way. I don’t want to drag this out any longer than we have to.”

  Ed nodded. He opened the door and they stepped inside. Immediately the smell of blood and gunpowder filled their noses. Ed fought to keep from throwing up.

  “This is bad,” Terry
said.

  Ed turned to Emily. “Where do we go from here?”

  “This way,” she said, stepping past the men.

  She didn’t look at the bodies as she passed them.

  * * *

  An hour later they’d amassed a collection of things to take with them on their journey. Emily’s medical kit, along with assorted supplies: antibiotics, bandages, syringes, pain killers and more. They filled up five boxes that they deposited outside the main doorway. Terry gathered up foodstuffs from Tex’s supplies; canned and dried foods.

  Ed collected what weapons he could find in Tex’s small armory. He found several pistols with a hundred rounds of ammunition that could be shared between them, along with two shotguns and a couple of .222 rifles. He also collected weapons from Tex and Tony’s bodies. Picking over the bodies of men who’d helped them felt like a violation, but there was nothing to be done about it. He couldn’t undo what had happened and he couldn’t afford to leave behind anything valuable. He said a silent apology to the two men as he left, the best he could do under the circumstances.

  With the weapons and supplies collected, the group selected two vehicles from Tex’s lot. They found a small pickup truck that ran when they started it, along with a compact sedan. Another search turned up a few cans of gasoline. They didn’t know if it had been treated or had turned to sludge, but with little other options open to them they collected it regardless.

  With two running vehicles and a collection of supplies now ready, evening rolled in, bringing with it the promise of darkness—and carriers. The group—now nine strong—sat around the two packed cars. Jasper sat alongside Emily, up and out of bed, his hand resting on her leg. His battered face looked only slightly better. Trish and the boys sat a few feet away, their packs beside them. The two teens, Sam and Chloe, sat on the hood of the sedan, hands clasped.

  Ed surveyed the group. They all wore the expression of dazed shock. They’d been through so much, so quickly. He glanced at Zach and Jeremy and his heart ached at how old they looked. They didn’t look like children anymore. They’d seen more than most adults would ever have seen in their lifetime before the virus. So much pain and suffering, so much dying.