By now the Reclaimers were starting to realize what was going on. Instead of going for the already wounded man, she aimed at the last vehicle in line. In the darkness, she couldn’t see exactly where the window was, but she went off the placement of the headlights. Firing a few rounds at that spot, she switched to the third vehicle in line where a woman had gotten out. The woman aimed down at the trees where Ana was and got off two shots before Ana dropped her. Most of the Reclaimers were out of their vehicles and firing down at her now. Woodchips flew off the tree she had taken cover behind so she dropped to the ground. Crawling ten yards farther down the line of trees, she rose to a kneeling position and sighted on one of the men hiding behind a truck. She squeezed the trigger and then quickly squeezed it again, having missed her first shot. Blood sprayed in the air as the man’s neck exploded. Instead of aiming, she let loose with some rapid fire on the middle vehicles. The rifle clicked and she ejected the spent magazine.
As soon as she stopped shooting, the Reclaimers honed in on her location and began to fire. Bullets whizzed by her head. One struck a tree next to her and sent shrapnel into the left side of her face. She fell to the ground. Her face stung and there was blood on her cheek. It was time for the part of her plan where she ran.
To stay low, she started rolling down a gradual slope away from the interstate. She began to pick up momentum as the angle of the slope increased and she gripped her rifle tighter. Suddenly, the ground was no longer beneath her and she fell two feet into water. She stood up, dizzy from rolling that far, and acquired her bearings. She’d fallen into a small creek. If she followed it, she would be going away from the interstate. In the distance, she could still hear the Reclaimers firing into the trees after her. Hopefully, it would be a few minutes before they dared follow.
She climbed up the other side of the bank and started running beside the creek as best she could in the darkness. Branches slapped her in the face and she stumbled a few times, falling back into the water. Each time she climbed to her feet and continued on her way. She ran with reckless abandon, knowing that with each step there was a risk of twisting her ankle—or worse. That didn’t slow her down. The people following her would do far worse than that. After a quarter mile, she arrived at a spot where the small creek went through a culvert under a dirt road.
Climbing onto the road, she glanced around. There looked to be a large shape in the darkness to the left. If it was a house, it would be her best chance to find a new ride. She ran toward it, noticing the gunfire in the distance had stopped. They would be following her now and would find her soon. She slowed, reaching for a new magazine. There hadn’t been time to reload earlier. Her hand found an empty back pocket; the magazine was gone. Feeling around, she realized she’d lost the tire iron as well. Frantically, she checked her front pocket and her last magazine was still there. Relieved, she shoved it into the rifle and racked the action. She also had her knife shoved into her boot for the infected, at least.
The shape in the darkness turned out to be a small house. A car and a truck with a horse trailer were parked out front. She thought about holing up in the house, but she dismissed it. With only one magazine left, there was no way she’d survive. She went over to the truck and tried the door. It was locked. She tried the car next. Opening the door she stopped, hearing something. Spinning quickly, she saw a groaning silhouette coming at her in the darkness. The knife was in her hand before she knew it and she took a step toward the infected. With one smooth motion, she plunged the blade into its eye and it collapsed to the ground.
Going back to the car, she looked inside. It was clear. Sitting down, she searched for the keys. Nothing on the dash, in the center console, or behind the visor. Next, she looked under the seat and in the glove box. Still nothing.
Where are the damn keys? she thought and then cursed herself.
The keys were dangling halfway out of the ignition! The car turned over twice before starting. She was reaching to close the door when a bullet punched through the headrest. Ducking down, she shifted it into gear and slammed her foot on the gas. More bullets peppered the back of the car and tore holes through the windshield. The driver’s side window shattered, but the car sped down the dirt road away from the shooters. Bullets continued to fly through the air around her. The gunfire slowed as she took a small bend in the road. By some miracle, she’d made it without getting hit, and it seemed, for now, that nothing vital in the car had been damaged.
After about a mile, the driveway met a paved road. She took a left, heading southwest. They’d be expecting her to continue north—or so she hoped. She drove on, heading under the interstate. When she hit a four-way intersection, she stayed on the road, which took a short jog north and then continued west. She didn’t have any idea where she was going, but her goal was to put as much distance between the Reclaimers and herself as she could. Hopefully, they hadn’t seen her cross under the interstate. If they had, she’d just have to make sure her trail was chaotic. She wouldn’t stick to the main roads or any one direction.
If she found a good location, she’d hide the car and hole up, find some food and maybe some guns, and then start out on her own. Maybe she would continue north and one day join the others, but she doubted that. More than likely, she’d find somewhere she could make a life for herself and set up there.
Or you could go back, kill Jezz, and take her place. Lead the Reclaimers, become the woman you were meant to be, purred the dark part in her. It would be easy to do. Once Jezz was dead, the Reclaimers would follow anyone strong enough. As long as they were allowed to kill, they’d be content to follow. All she would—
What the hell was she thinking? She quickly closed the lid on the box that held that part of her, but it wouldn’t shut entirely.
“Control,” she said out loud. “I need to stay in control.”
She needed somewhere to lay low for a while. But first she had to make sure the Reclaimers weren’t following her. The road turned south and she followed it. She didn’t know where she was headed or if she’d even survive the day, but she continued on. The sun brightened the sky and the Bighorn Mountains loomed in the distance. Before her lay the open road, her destination unknown.
20
Red Sky
Post-outbreak day eight, early morning
“What do you mean, she’s missing?” Tank asked, dropping the folder he’d been holding.
“I mean the Hummer’s still here, but she’s gone and so is all our gear,” James said.
“Are you saying she took it?” Tank asked, getting heated.
“No,” James said. “I’m saying someone came and took all our gear and kidnapped Chloe.”
Connor walked into the pavilion. “Everything’s gone, even your iPod.”
“Who the hell would take an iPod and not just take the whole Hummer?” Tank asked.
“That’s a good point,” James said. “I didn’t think of that.”
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Connor said.
“Are we sure she didn’t hide it somewhere?” Tank asked.
“Where would she hide it?” James asked. “And, a better question: why?”
“I don’t know!” Tank yelled. “We just need to find her.”
“It’s okay, bro,” Connor said, walking over and laying a hand on his shoulder. “We will.”
“They couldn’t have gotten far,” James said. “Let’s get the Hummer and go find them.”
James exited the pavilion with Tank and Connor following close behind. Why would someone take all their stuff and Chloe but leave the Hummer? Or did they take all the gear and Chloe got away to hide somewhere? When they arrived at the Hummer, James jumped in the driver’s seat, looking around for the keys.
“Hey, man,” James said. “Where’d you leave the keys?”
“With Chloe, of course,” Tank said, walking up.
“Then they’re gone,” Connor said. “Whoever took Chloe took the keys.”
“Maybe we should look around here,” James said. “Chloe could’ve seen them coming and hid.”
“Good idea!” Tank said, turning and heading into the nearest pavilion.
“I’ll check around the perimeter,” Connor said, running north.
I guess that leaves me with checking the other vehicles, James thought.
Jogging over to the nearest SUV, he crouched down, looking underneath. There was a dark stain on the ground. James flipped up his NVGs and turned on the light attached to his ACR. Blood. It had dried and was at least a few days old, but something had definitely happened. There was a reason Bryce had been the only one alive. Who were these people? They were equipped like the military and wore similar uniforms, but all they had on them were nametags, and those seemed like nicknames—nothing else, no insignia or rank. Turning off his light, he stood up and flipped down his NVGs.
He glanced inside the vehicle, but it was hard to see anything through the tinted windows. The door wouldn’t open, it was locked, just like the rest. Walking around the SUV and looking in every window, he couldn’t see anything inside. The next SUV looked the same, devoid of anything living. He was on his way to the—what was it again? An LPV or LAPC or something—when Connor called out.
“You guys are gonna want to see this!”
Tank immediately ran out of the second pavilion toward where Connor was perched on the berm, looking north. James ran after Tank, saying a quick prayer.
Let her be alive, Lord. Please, just let her be alive.
He passed the downed helicopter, arriving at the berm.
“Holy…” Tank said from the top.
James crested the berm. “What the hell?”
On the other side was a gravesite. There were thirteen newly dug graves with makeshift wooden tombstones. There were also six open graves, as if whoever had done this had been prepared for more.
“This is just plain weird,” Tank said.
“This had to be—” James began.
“It’s Bryce, definitely him,” Tank said, cutting him off.
“No doubt,” Connor said.
“This must’ve been what he meant when he said he was still missing people,” James said.
“He was crazy,” Tank said.
“Definitely,” Connor said.
“This is honestly creepy,” James said.
“This is like some weird horror film,” Connor said.
“Yeah,” James said. “Maybe we should just go back and look for Chloe.”
“You guys lookin’ for me?” said a female voice from right behind them.
James turned quickly, sighting down his ACR.
“Whoa, boys,” she said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Chloe stood a few feet away, wearing one of the helmets, and she had a handgun stuffed into her pocket.
“Where the hell did you come from?” Tank asked, lowering his weapon.
James flicked his safety back on. “Oh, don’t worry about scaring us. I just think I need a new pair of pants.”
“I was in the LAPV,” Chloe said. “I may have fallen asleep.”
“Fallen asleep?” Tank asked.
“In the what?” Connor asked.
“The big armored vehicle,” Chloe said.
“Let me get this straight,” James said. “You found the keys to the armored vehicle, took all our gear from the Hummer, and carried it over there?”
“Yep,” Chloe said, “I also loaded more food and water. There’s a lot more room in it.”
“Woman,” Tank said. “I think I might be in love with you.”
Chloe looked stunned. It was easy to tell even with her helmet on and NVGs down.
“I’m jokin’,” Tank said, seeing her reaction.
“I know that,” Chloe said, recovering quickly. “You’re Tank, after all.”
“He is Tank,” Connor said.
“Well, now that we have all that sorted out,” James said, “we still have our friends to rescue.”
“You weren’t able to earlier?” Chloe asked.
“Long story,” Connor said, walking back toward their new ride.
“We’ll fill you in once we get goin’,” James said, then added quickly. “Shotgun!”
“It’s okay, bro. I was going to let you have it anyway. I’m gonna go check the downed Black Hawk real quick.” Connor said and ran off to the crashed helicopter.
James watched him go. They’d completely forgotten to check that.
“You do realize you could’ve called ‘driver,’ and been able to drive the beasty,” Tank said, smiling from ear-to-ear.
“Dammit,” James said. “I just…”
“Assumed that the giant tank-thing was mine?” Tank asked.
“Well, yeah,” James said.
“Good call,” Tank said.
They arrived at the vehicle and James took a good look at it. It was huge and had three rows of seats. It looked almost like a Humvee crossed with a giant SUV and outfitted with even more armor. He swore it looked like the kickass armored vehicles the special ops people drove in all the movies. Walking around to the passenger’s side, he climbed into the front seat and Chloe climbed into the seat behind him. She didn’t need to ask where to sit so it made sense strategically; she’d already picked up on that. She hardly seemed like the same person James had met a couple of days ago.
Connor ran back from the Black Hawk.
“Nothing,” he said, by the rear driver’s side door.
“Bro…” James said, standing outside the passenger door.
“Yeah?” Connor asked. He had a look on his face that told James his brother already knew what he was thinking.
“I can’t sit shotgun,” James said, walking around the front of the LAPV.
Connor met him halfway. “It’s okay, bro.”
James climbed into the seat behind Tank.
“What the hell was that about?” Tank said. “You don’t feel honored enough to sit next to me? Do I smell?”
“You know exactly why,” James said.
“Of course,” Tank said. “It’s not practical.”
“Exactly,” James said.
“For once, I agree with my brother,” Connor said, shutting his door.
“Oh, I do too,” Tank said, starting the LAPV. “But I’m still goin’ to give him crap about it.”
The engine roared to life, growling like a large beast. Tank turned it around and faced the road leading down the hill.
“Oh, yeah,” Tank said. “This thing is a diesel and everything. I bet it has some serious power!” He gunned it and the vehicle lurched forward, shoving them into their seats.
“Someone wanna tell me what that was all about?” Chloe asked. “I’m in the correct seat, right?”
“Yes, you are,” James said. “Connor is left-handed. He can shoot more easily from the passenger’s side, and I can shoot better from the driver’s side.”
“Oh,” Chloe said. “You guys put a lot of thought into this.”
“Yeah, but a lot of it comes naturally,” James said.
“So you’ve had some kind of training?” Chloe asked.
“Just Connor,” James said, “but he was only in the corps for a year. Tank and I have nothing but what he taught us.”
“What happened?” Chloe asked.
“I broke my leg,” Connor said. “They medically discharged me.”
“They forced you to leave?” Chloe asked. “Why?”
“They were downsizing the military, looking for any reason to kick us out. I just wanted to stay and heal, continue to do the only job I’ve ever wanted—defending our great nation—but I guess someone had other plans for me.”
“Do you miss it?” Chloe asked.
“Before all this? Every day. Now, I’m glad I was here to stand with my brothers at the end.”
“I’m glad you’re here too, bro,” James said.
“Me too,” Tank said, pret
ending to wipe a tear from his eye.
James chuckled. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”
“Always have been,” Tank said, “always will be.”
They arrived at the intersection of US-14. The sun was beginning to brighten the sky. In thirty minutes, it’d be light enough to see, and in another hour the sun would be up.
“North?” Tank asked.
“Yeah,” James said. “I don’t see why they’d wanna go south.”
“On it,” Tank said.
Connor opened the glove box. “Look at this,” he said, presenting the manual to James. “Will you do the honors?”
“Me?” James asked, taking the offered manual. “Hell yeah!”
“I read that already,” Chloe said.
“And?” Tank asked.
“It’s built on a Ford truck and is bulletproof,” Chloe said.
“And?” Tank asked again.
“Some other vehicle stuff,” Chloe said, shrugging. “I’m sure one of you will be able to understand it better than me.”
James started scanning through it. With every page he read, he became more and more impressed with this vehicle. After five minutes, he had all the main components read.
“You guys aren’t going to believe how badass this thing is!” James said.
“Oh, I do,” Tank said. “I’m drivin’ it!”
“Well, let me tell you,” James said. “First, LAPV stands for Light Armored Patrol Vehicle. It has two layers of armor that can withstand 7.62mm armor-piercing rounds, has over four hundred horsepower, eight hundred and sixty pounds of torque, blast-resistant floor, a max speed of seventy miles-per-hour, a solid metal bumper, and upgraded shocks, axles, chassis, etc. It weighs sixteen hundred pounds, can drive through three feet of water, can—”
“We get it,” Connor said.
“So this baby is damn near indestructible?” Tank asked, his smile growing as James talked.
“For everyone else,” Chloe said. “I don’t know about you with your track record.”
James and Connor burst out laughing, while Tank just glared at her in the rearview mirror.
She shrugged. “Payback for the whole ‘Arthas’ thing.”
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