by Hunt, Jack
“Devan!” he yelled then waved.
He got this smile on his face as if the cavalry had just arrived. Devan looked to his left and right and then shot out, sprinting the twenty yards to the parked Jeep. Bullets tore into the Jeep, so Devan had to change direction. He made it to a station wagon two vehicles up. Nick waited until the gunfire let up before rolling out of the Jeep, staying low and making his way up to Devan. He let himself into the front, and slammed the door closed just as rounds lanced the windows and sent shards of glass all over them.
“Nick Jackson, you are a sight for sore eyes. I could kiss you right now, my friend.”
“Well don’t,” Nick replied. “Your father is here.”
“My father?”
“About fifty yards from here behind a parked 4 x 4.”
Another hail of bullets ricocheting off the metal caused them to get low to the floor. “Holy shit. Isn’t this something? Could you ever imagine in your wildest—”
“Devan. Shut the hell up.”
Brody had seen his son make a beeline for the station wagon. A wave of relief was quickly followed by fear as he came under heavy gunfire. Unable to pinpoint it he just fired in random directions in the hopes of drawing away the attention from whoever was targeting them.
“Gottman,” he yelled. Gottman hurried to the front. “Bring up your vehicle. I’ve spotted him but we don’t have a chance in hell of making it across without some form of cover.”
“Lexi isn’t a form of cover.”
“Dear God, man. Would you stop referring to the damn car as a woman and use some common sense.”
“I am. That’s why I didn’t bring it with me.”
A torrent of rounds tore up the earth near them and they pulled back behind the wall. “That’s coming from the military on the roof. What the hell are they playing at?”
“They have no idea who we are. Right now everyone is a threat.”
Brody turned and looked at Gottman, and Gottman sighed. “All right, I’ll get it but if this car gets one scratch…” he trailed off as he sprinted away. Michael pulled up close.
“You know his car is going to get chewed up in the funnel.”
“Yep,” Brody replied without looking at him.
They watched a Chinook helicopter come in for landing on the roof of the Palace Theater. The rotors whipped furiously sending large wafts of air down.
“That’s our distraction,” he said turning back and waiting to see headlights. “We get one shot at this.”
“Who do you think the ones on the ground are?”
He shrugged. “Infected, gangs, militia. No idea.”
He didn’t care right now. People had every right to bear arms and protect themselves. Marfa was no longer the quiet little town in the middle of nowhere. It was at the center of what would become a nationwide epidemic. If the military were pulling out, that could only mean one thing. His mind thought of the worst. But he couldn’t accept that the government would go that far. Could they?
The familiar sound of the GT’s engine roaring caught his attention. The glow of headlights lit up the night as the vehicle tore down the road towards them. Gottman swerved into view, and opened the passenger side. “Get in!”
Both of them hopped in and before he had a chance to close the door Gottman floored it. The smell of tire rubber lingered as the GT took off at a high rate of speed. Almost immediately they came under fire. The back window shattered, and multiple rounds lanced into the side of the vehicle.
“I knew it. I damn well knew it!”
Gottman cursed as the GT bounced up onto the sidewalk and whipped past trees, hitting speeds of up to a hundred. “Hold on!” Gottman yelled as the rear of the car slid out, screeching to a halt just beyond the station wagon. Michael and Brody jumped out and engaged with multiple threats.
“NICK!” Brody bellowed as loud as he could.
“Dad?”
“Go, I’ll hold them at bay,” Michael said. Brody slid over the front of the GT catching Gottman’s narrowed gaze as multiple rounds tore up his vehicle. Oh, he was going to hear about this later.
Brody pulled the door open and clasped his son’s hand. “Stay low, and get in the vehicle.”
Devan and Nick got out and were about to dart across to the GT when a stream of gunfire tore up the ground beneath them ad pushed them back. The assault was so bad, that Gottman yelled out, “I’m hit!”
Brody took the chance and rushed over and opened his door. Sure enough, a round had penetrated the vehicle and torn through his leg. Brody yanked him out and dragged him to cover. They were pinned down between the GT and the station wagon.
“Michael!” Brody yelled but got no answer.
“Wait here,” he said to Nick as he darted to the front of the GT and took a look around. Slumped over and not moving was Michael, his white orderly clothes riddled with round holes that were dark red in color.
Another flurry, and he had no choice but to pull back. Pinned in, unable to move without risking being shot, Brody turned to Nick. “I’m sorry, son.”
“For what?”
“Everything. You getting caught in the middle of your mom and I… not acknowledging your pain when Will died, and losing myself in my own.”
Nick nodded but didn’t respond. Brody didn’t expect him to. The wounds were deep in all of them. And now was the time to try and heal. Devan cast a glance over the GT. “They have a high-powered gun on the back of that military Jeep.”
“Who are they?” Brody asked.
“Militia is my guess.”
“More like maniacs,” Nick said. “We need to get to your father.”
“Emerick?” Brody asked.
“That’s who I’ve been with this whole time. He’s not far from here.” Nick pointed in a direction but it was too risky to take a look without getting shot.
Brody did his best to return fire but he was nearly out. “How are you doing for ammo?”
“Not many rounds left,” Nick said offering him his gun.
“Keep it. You’ll need it.”
“On the passenger side is the AR-15,” Gottman said, gripping his leg. Brody dashed out and dived into the open car, snatching up the rifle and returning only to find himself spun by a bullet that struck him in the arm. He hit the ground and the rifle slid across close to Devan’s feet.
“Dad!” Nick screamed, hurrying over but keeping low.
Devan picked up the AR, glanced at it a few seconds, and unleashed round after round at their attackers. He gazed at it again. “Holy shit. This is the real deal.”
“Give me that here, kid,” Gottman said.
“Forget it. You can barely hold your leg together,” he replied.
Meanwhile Nick pulled his father to safety. He was bleeding badly. “If there was ever a time I needed your mother, it’s now.”
Her throat and legs were burning. They hadn’t stopped running since leaving Gottman’s residence. At night all the streets looked exactly the same — rows of homes, small mom-and-pop stores and now buildings on fire, and vehicles reduced to charred metal. Only minutes earlier, Pete had shot a woman who tried to attack them with an axe. She came out of nowhere, swinging like a madman. The town had fallen into complete disarray, families turning on each other, friends becoming enemies and fear streaking its way through the heart of it all.
Nearby they could hear the sound of a circling chopper overhead trying to locate them. “Come on. Keep going,” she yelled.
Jenna wheeled around a corner and dashed out into the road just as a red truck came barreling towards them. She stuck out her arms, and the truck squealed to a halt inches away from her torso.
She came around to the passenger side and begged the two occupants to give them a lift. The driver was hesitant at first but his passenger must have convinced him as he thumbed for them to get in the back. Pete slid in first, followed by her.
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. The name’s Jenna, and this is Pete.”
The driv
er turned and gave a wry smile. “Sergio.”
Before the passenger could introduce himself a large light shone down on them illuminating the inside of the vehicle. “GO!” she yelled. Sergio’s eyes widened but he didn’t question why. He slammed his foot against the accelerator and they took off.
“What the hell is going on?”
No sooner had they made it a hundred yards down the main stretch of road than the helicopter cut them off, landing ahead of them. Without knowing what their intentions were, Sergio removed his hands from the wheel and froze as armed military soldiers encircled the truck yelling for them to keep their hands where they could see them. Through the windshield, Jenna saw Colonel Lynch step out of the Chinook.
Her stomach sank.
Emerick had watched it all play out before him, unable to do more than return fire. He’d tried to make his way over but had been pushed back by the steady onslaught of gunfire coming from multiple directions. Seeing Brody gave him a glimmer of hope, that was until the GT had been turned to Swiss cheese.
“Chad.”
He turned to speak to him but he was gone. Jasper was cowering in the same spot.
“Where did he go?”
“He ran off.”
“I knew it. Damn coward. You put your faith in the military and they let you down, over and over again.” He shuffled back to cover Jasper when a large dark form off to his right caught his eye. The sound of an engine could be heard, then as the vehicle rolled into a band of moonlight, he saw it was a tan military Humvee.
“Jasper, get in the vehicle. Quick!”
Expecting to encounter resistance, after watching those on the roof shooting the ones below, he was surprised when it jerked to a stop and the door opened and Chad stuck out his head. “Want to get out of here?”
“How the hell did you get that?”
“The perks of being in the military,” he said but withholding the full story.
“You bastard. I thought you had left us behind.”
“And give up on your pleasantries?” Chad grinned.
They hurried to the side and let themselves in, and Chad veered it in the direction of Devan. Inside Emerick glanced back to see another soldier gripping his stomach.
“Was that you?”
“Who, him? No, that was courtesy of one of our own. No, if it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t even have this.” Emerick didn’t have time for the full story. Bullets bounced off the enclosed metal cabin like heavy hail in a storm.
“That’s it, bring it up,” Emerick said guiding him as he veered up in front of the GT. Emerick brought the window down and yelled to them.
“Get inside.”
Their faces lit up.
“They’ve been hit,” Nick yelled.
“Oh shit,” he replied noticing the second officer wasn’t going to be able to move fast. He hopped out and stayed low using the vehicle as cover while Chad slipped to the back to go up and use the machine gun on top for additional cover. As soon as it kicked in, that was his cue. Emerick darted out and helped his son get the officer into the Humvee, followed by Brody. It took them less than ten seconds, and within twenty they were pulling away from what had become a living hell.
The Humvee rumbled down the streets, the sound of bullets becoming distant the further they drove south. Nick sat in the back with his hand on his father’s wound. Brody smiled at him then glanced at Officer Gottman.
“Where are we heading?” Devan asked
“As far away from this town as possible,” Gottman said.
“No, I need to get Jenna,” Brody added.
“But that’s in Alpine. Twenty-five minutes away,” Chad said.
“I’m not leaving without my wife.”
“I’m afraid you might have to,” the wounded soldier curled in the back of the Humvee said. Nick looked his way, as did the rest. “They are going to wipe this town off the map within the hour.”
“What?” Brody asked.
“That’s why they pulled the troops. This…” he trailed off. “This can’t spread more than it already has, and they can’t contain it so all that’s left is to eliminate it.”
“But there are innocent people in this town. Folks who aren’t infected.”
The soldier looked absently back at him.
“Head to Alpine,” Brody said not taking his eyes off the soldier.
“Did you not hear what he said?” Chad replied.
Brody rose from his seat, and leaned forward clasping his military fatigues, and pushing a handgun to his head. “I don’t give a fuck. Head to Alpine!” he bellowed. Gottman tried to calm him but he refused to listen. There was no way he was leaving her behind. If this event had shown him anything, it was how much she meant to him, and what really mattered. It wasn’t his job, it wasn’t the town, and it wasn’t even his own pain over the loss of his eldest son. Without her, none of it mattered. And he refused to let twenty-four years flush down the drain.
The Humvee roared as they headed south towards Antonio Street.
Nick looked out the window.
“Nick. You okay?”
He nodded but said nothing, and then suddenly he yelled out. “Stop. Stop the vehicle!”
“What is it now?” Emerick asked. The Humvee came to a crawl and the door opened.
“Callie!” Nick yelled.
Walking down the street, tears rolling down her cheeks and blood caking her face, was Callie Madison. Brody knew her family well. He also knew where they lived and she looked as if she was heading in the opposite direction. Nick hopped out and hurried over to collect her. A moment later she ducked into the Humvee and they continued on their way.
“Callie. Where’s Angela?” Emerick asked.
She just shook her head and Emerick’s chin dropped.
“Your family. Were they there?” Brody asked.
Callie nodded then began to cry even harder. No one probed her any further, her parents’ fate was clear. How it had happened was anyone’s guess. As they continued on all Brody could think about now was Jenna.
Her safety was all that mattered.
Chapter 28
His heart was frantic upon arrival at Gottman’s home. Although he was suffering from a wound to the arm, Brody was the first out of the Humvee. He raced toward the house screaming her name. “Jenna!”
Silence came back.
He burst through the door and was confronted by the bloody scene in the kitchen. His eyes fell upon the pharmacist, then Sorenson. Neither one was moving. He continued on and saw Liam’s body in the living room. Quickly he double-timed it up the stairs and entered the bedroom to find the covers pulled back but Jenna nowhere to be found.
Fear was getting the best of him as he went from room to room.
He hurried down and was met in the hallway by Emerick.
“Brody, we need to go.”
“She’s not here.”
“I’m sorry, man, but if we don’t get out of here now—”
Sorenson started coughing.
“Sorenson?” Brody dropped down to where he was and looked at the knife sticking out of his gut. The knife was still embedded, and he had covered around the wound with pieces of material ripped from his own shirt. By the look of his bloody hands, he’d been applying pressure, trying to let the body form blood clots. Having witnessed enough knife attacks in his time, Brody knew it wasn’t uncommon to survive a knife attack if it hadn’t hit any main arteries. Still it was dangerous and the chances of living got less the longer it remained untreated. Even if there was not a lot of blood coming out, internal bleeding was the alternative.
“Where is she?”
“I…”
“Jenna. Where is she?” he bellowed.
He was slipping in and out of consciousness and was no doubt on the brink of death. “Chicago,” he mumbled. “They’ll take her to the CDC.”
“Who?”
“The military.”
Brody looked up at Emerick and then rose to his feet.
&nbs
p; “We can’t take him,” Emerick said.
“I didn’t say we would.”
Brody turned without giving Sorenson another glance. Emerick was the first out the door. Brody was about to leave when Sorenson piped up. “I’m sorry.”
Brody stopped walking and looked back at him. He knew he was just a pawn in a game the military was playing, no different than the soldiers. “So am I,” Brody said and then darted out, rushing back to the idling Humvee. He hopped in and told Chad where they were heading.
They wasted no time getting out of there. The Humvee tore through the streets and each of them glanced out, taking one final look at the town that would soon be reduced to ash. He looked around at the bruised and battered ragtag group that had been drawn together by the worst situation. It was hard to imagine they would have crossed paths had it not been for fate. As they drove beyond its borders, Brody mumbled under his breath a promise, to himself, to his kid, and to his wife. “I’m coming, Jenna. I’m coming.”
Many hours later, buried in the heart of the Chicago facility of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Colonel Lynch downed a glass of bourbon and stared at an old photo of Major Tim Brown. She’d just got off the phone with his wife and had delivered the bad news. She’d wanted to tell her in person but with the state of the nation, she couldn’t. She also didn’t want anyone else doing it. She’d met Mia a few times over the years at dinner parties. What Mia didn’t know was that Tim had cheated on her a few times. Of course he’d confided in Lynch, as she was the other woman. It was stupid. Both of them knew it, and both had gone into it looking to find something that their own marriages couldn’t provide. Intimacy for him, understanding for her. She wasn’t proud of it, and they had cut it short before it ruined more than their marriages, but that’s why his death stung so badly. He was the only one who really understood the weight that was on her shoulders.