by Kyle West
“I’ll finish what you started,” Makara vowed. “I’ll kill Carin Black for you, Raine.”
Samuel pulled her downstairs, rushing her through the back of the building as the storm fell upon them.
Chapter 43
RAINE’S EYES FLUTTERED open. He was alive? How was he still alive?
The world was gray, and shapes blurred into one another. The sound of gunshots and artillery fire was muffled, seeming to come from another world.
Raine forced himself to focus. Someone was coming up the steps. His consciousness faded and all went back. The blackness was momentarily forced aside when he felt a stinging shock of pain on his cheek. Raine was powerless to resist it.
It’s over, he thought.
When Raine opened his eyes, he saw a face floating in front of him. A terrible face. Raine’s eyes narrowed to see Carin Black’s gloating features and dark, beady eyes boring into his. Was this real, or a vision?
Black spoke, but the voice was warbled. Raine could hardly follow the words.
“We finally meet, Raine Rogers. I only wish it could have been in better circumstances.”
Raine tried to respond, but ended up only grunting.
“None of that, now,” Black said, with a chuckle. He held out a copper flask. “Here. This is good Kentucky bourbon. Just like we used to drink together.”
Raine wanted to spit, but only succeeded in drooling.
“Should back away, Boss,” a nearby crony said. “He’s got the Red Sickness.”
Carin turned to him. “Why don’t you fuck off, Nathan, huh? Raine and I are having a moment. Two old buddies catching up.” He turned his gaze on all his subordinates. “That goes for all of you. Scram.”
Carin’s cronies vacated the stairwell, leaving the Reaper’s warlord alone with Raine. Raine felt the blackness taking him once again.
“Nothing, huh?” Carin asked. “Well, this has been disappointing. I was itching for a good fight.” Black touched Raine’s face almost tenderly. “You fought all these years like a cornered badger. In the end, though, you fell into the trap.”
Carin pinched his cheek roughly as Raine slipped further into reality. His arms, which had once been so strong, were no longer under his control.
“Say hi to Valerie,” Carin whispered. “I’m sure she misses me.”
Those were the last words Raine Rogers heard before the darkness took him forever.
Chapter 44
THE BASEMENT WAS COMPLETELY empty, save for the shelving. Almost everything had been taken with the Angels to the new base. For the first time, Makara would see what was beyond the door that was the subject of so much speculation and fear during her time living here.
When Samuel reached it, the door opened easily enough with a creak. What they found inside was a series of doors lining either side of a short hallway, at the end of which was a short set of stairs leading to the cellar door Raine mentioned. Samuel ignored the side doors, forging ahead, while Makara paused, unable to resist the pull of her curiosity. She reached for the first door, finding only an empty room and a bucket.
A jail cell, maybe.
“Come on!” Samuel called from ahead.
Makara hurried after him, his flashlight beam leading the way. Samuel pushed the door open, and she could see red daylight pouring in from outside. Makara was out the door first, just as a mortar whistled overhead and rocked the building behind her.
Makara screamed as she was knocked off her feet, scrambling forward to avoid getting crushed by the side of the building coming down. Everything was falling, the crumbling of the building drowning out all other sounds.
When things finally calmed, Makara got up with nothing more than a few scratches and bruises, a large piece of masonry having mostly shielded her from the collapse. She crouched as she walked forward through the dust, back to the cellar entrance.
It was completely buried in rubble, and there was no sign of her brother.
“Samuel?”
He didn’t respond to her call.
“Samuel!”
A few gunshots rang out from the front of the building. Makara held her rifle in front of her, trying to dig at the rubble. Even the smaller pieces were incredibly heavy. She strained to lift one of them, but it was wedged in tight.
Makara sobbed, falling onto the pile. Samuel was buried under there, either suffocating or dead. The late afternoon light was fading into evening.
What was she supposed to do now? Where would she go, back to the mall? The mall was going to go down, anyway. Their only chance had been to find Black and kill him.
Was that what she should do? Find Black?
Raine told Samuel to get me out. Well, Samuel’s not here anymore. So, what do I do?
She dried her tears, pushing down all her pain and sadness, forcing herself to go numb. She wasn’t going to be any good if she was a blubbering mess.
Raine, dead. Samuel, dead. What was to stop her now from ending it all, or suiciding herself for a chance to get at Carin Black? She was just going to die out here in the open, anyway, or be taken a slave.
Might as well try to get some revenge in the process.
She made her way out of the compound and started climbing a stack of rubble to get on top of the wall. She edged along the rampart, which was still in decent shape, and set up a position near the corner of the building, where she would be well-hidden from the yard, where Reapers were on the prowl.
In the gathering darkness, though, it was impossible to tell which one was Black, or if in fact any of them were.
She wanted to cry in frustration. She should just try to kill as many as possible before they got to her?
She was about to do just that. She lined up the sight of her AR-15, concentrating to make sure her first target went down. Her aim would be true, but after that first shot, what then?
Raine’s words ran through her head.
Your purpose is not over. You must survive.
She could not disobey Raine’s dying wish. He wanted her to survive. He’d given everything to let her go on.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
Killing herself would be the easy way out. Why had Raine cursed her with the hard way?
Makara backed away from the precipice, lowering herself to the ground below. She would try to make it out, as impossible as that would be.
She had to do it, if not for herself, then for Raine.
Chapter 45
NOW THAT SHE HAD DECIDED to try and get out of L.A., Makara had to figure out the best way to go about that. Stealing a bike would be too risky, and all the Angels’ bikes were controlled by Reapers in the yard now, anyway.
Makara quickly saw that the only she could escape was on foot. First, she’d to wait for the full cover of darkness. She hid behind the rubble of Angel Command until the darkness was absolute. Only then did she make her way forward, down familiar streets and through buildings she knew like the back of her hand. All those years of exploring the surrounding territory was paying off. For a moment, it felt as if she had returned to those more innocent days; at least, until the crack of a gunshot interrupted the night, or the howling of a flying mortar made the hairs on her neck stand on end.
The whole time she made her way east, it felt like the wrong decision. But Raine’s instructions had been clear: to get out of L.A. and to find his brother. Makara didn’t relish the part about finding Ohlan, but Makara felt she couldn’t disobey Raine’s dying wish. Raine wanted his brother to know about his death as soon as possible, for whatever reason.
So, she resolved to make it to him, or die trying.
The ruins of L.A. were empty and forlorn. Makara ran when she felt she was far enough from the fighting to go unnoticed, with a goal of reaching the Santa Ana by daybreak to refill her canteen. She took a more northerly route than she and Samuel had just a couple of days before, to avoid the Reaper outpost on the highway.
As much as she tried to push thoughts of Raine and Samuel from her mind, she couldn
’t help but blame herself for their deaths. It was she and Samuel, after all, who’d brought the sick man back to the mall on the bike. If they hadn’t done that, Raine would still be alive, and maybe even Samuel would be alive.
It was useless to think about, now.
When Makara became too tired, she found a building to hide in for the night. She didn’t dare build a fire, instead eating some of the food from her pack. There wasn’t much; she hadn’t planned on being out for the long haul.
She had her blanket, though, so she took that out and wrapped herself in it. The nighttime quiet was often broken by the sound of cracking gunfire and the whistle of mortars. They were miles southwest. Makara seemed to be well out of range of the fighting.
Those sounds would signify the mall going down. It was hard to believe without seeing it with her own eyes. She shook at the thought of all the names and all the faces that she would never see again. Lives destroyed in a single night, and those who weren’t killed would be made the Reapers’ slaves.
Makara could still suffer that same fate, if she were unlucky.
She didn’t see the point of going on. Coldness clutched her heart as she thought of Samuel, dead beneath the rubble, of Raine, expiring from his sickness. He hadn’t even had the chance to go crazy, like Olson. Something was off about that disease.
For some reason, it reminded her of that terrible night, long ago. Why was that?
The bile, she realized. The stuff Raine had been hacking up looked like the purple fluid from the monsters that had attacked Bunker One.
Makara shivered. That means that whatever disease those things were carrying had made it here, all the way from Colorado. The further she went east, the closer she got herself to ground zero.
“There’s no way I’m surviving,” she said. Though she spoke quietly, her voice sounded loud in the room she was in.
Your purpose is not over. You must survive. Your purpose is not over. You must survive. Your purpose is not over . . .
Raine’s words ran over and over in her head as the tears sprung forth, no longer able to be contained.
MAKARA SLEPT FOR A long time, fading in and out, though the red daylight shone through the open window. She slept, seeing no reason to get up and face the day.
She wanted to lie there until she was dead.
But it seemed that she wouldn’t even get the choice to die on her own terms, for she heard voices coming from the floor below. Two men were talking, and she heard boots on the steps.
Quietly, she shifted position until she was waiting behind the door with just her handgun. She left all her stuff in the open, including her rifle. There was just no time to hide it.
The men reached the landing, and their footstep rounded the corner and came to a pause before the door of the room she was in.
“In here,” a voice said. “Told you she went this way.”
“Careful, Devon,” the other one said.
“Now, where is she? He stepped into the room, but didn’t check behind the door, where Makara was hidden. “Window’s open. Think she jumped out?”
The man went to stand by the window, and looked down. Makara waited. She wanted the second man to come in to get a clear shot at both.
Come on, she thought. You come in, too. Her hand shook as she pointed her handgun.
As if answer to her though, the other man stepped inside the room, just as the first turned toward him.
His eyes widened upon seeing Makara behind the door, but already, several shots rang out, deafening in the confines of the room. Hardly anyone could have missed at that range. Both men went down. Makara watched them twitch until they both had bled out.
Instead of moving, Makara waited and listened. When no help seemed to be coming, only then did she stir from her position.
Coolly and mechanically, the thirteen-year-old girl rifled the contents of their pockets for anything useful, finding some 5.56 rounds for her AR-15 as well as a butane lighter, still half full. Both men had packs, and she rummaged through them, taking all their food and water. She also found a half bottle of rum and a carton of cigarettes. Both would be useful for trade.
Everything was done in a matter of minutes. She wiped her hands clean. The men didn’t have Reaper tattoos, so they must have belonged to one of the other gangs. Still, the other gangs were helping the Reapers, so Makara didn’t regret their deaths in the least.
Have I really become so cold? Makara asked.
She would have to become even colder to survive this city, and after that, the Wasteland. If she even made it that far.
She judged it was dark enough to move on, which she promptly did. The main bulk of L.A. had been left behind with the passing of the hills. If she got through the next few settlements, and finally, Last Town, she’d be well on her way.
Chapter 46
THOSE TWO MEN WERE not the last of Makara’s victims.
She killed another she happened upon at night on the highway, an old man who thought she wouldn’t have the stomach to kill him. He came forward with groping hands that meant to disarm her and then do far worse. She fired and left him for the carrion birds, after taking away his food and cigarettes.
She avoided fights where she could, and bigger crowds. It seemed a lot of folks were on the highway these days, all heading west. It wasn’t just soldiers and bikers, but chain gangs of slaves, too. Makara veered north, out of the way of the highway settlements.
Makara was fast realizing that the era of the Reaper had begun. Makara knew that without having to be told. Raine and the Lost Angels were no more. With Raine gone, all the Angels’ former territory would be gobbled up by the jackals.
She skirted the southern part of the mountains, running into few people up that way. The path was longer, but safer. When she reached San Bernardino, the town was practically empty. Makara was almost tempted to walk through it, but she knew that would be foolish. A girl on the road was a target, and people would always think of her as someone to be taken advantage of unless she made them think otherwise. Better to avoid confrontations, where possible. If she was forced to fire her gun, it was not just a waste of bullets, but a broadcasting of her position to any creep in a two miles radius.
When she reached I-10 again, she had no choice but to follow it east out of San Bernardino. She walked on an empty highway until the outskirts of the greater L.A. metropolitan area was replaced by dry desert and a smattering of crumbling buildings. The monotony was broken when, between two ranges of mountains, she reached the wooden walls of Last Town. When she stood before the gates, which covered most of the highway, an armed guard hailed her from above.
“Lost your daddy, girl?”
The barb did not hurt Makara. Her skin was thicker than rawhide by this point.
“Just a traveler seeking passage through,” she said coolly. “I’m bearing a message for Ohlan Rogers.”
That erased the man’s quippy smile. “Ohlan? He’s not here. What’s your business with him?”
“My business with him is none of yours,” Makara snapped. “Open the gate or you’ll never hear the end of it when I reach him.”
“I can’t open the gate,” he said. “Do you have the Red Sickness?”
Makara frowned. “What’s that?”
“Don’t play smart with me, girl.” At Makara’s lack of response, the guard continued. “All right, hold your horses. Stay put and I’ll have someone come over.”
Makara didn’t have to wait long. The guard came down and opened the gate. Before Makara could enter, he held up a hand, along with his gun. Another old man stood beside him, with a thick, white mustache and wild, snowy hair.
“This is Doctor Evans,” the guard said. “He’ll need to examine you before you can enter.”
Makara immediately raised her gun. “No one’s touching me.”
The old man looked appalled and held two hands up. “Don’t worry. I just need to have a look into your eyes and mouth, if you can stomach that much.”
“No,
” Makara said. “I just need to pass through. I don’t have to stay long.”
The old man blinked. “There’s nothing out there in the Wasteland, child. Nothing but death for one such as you.”
“I’ll manage,” Makara said. “I made it all the way here from Compton on my own, I think I can manage the rest of the way to Ohlan.” She eyed him critically. “Any news of him passing through here?”
Dr. Evans looked even more shocked, if such a thing was possible. The gate guard watched the interaction with interest.
“Young lady,” Dr. Evans began, “we’re not going to let you pass through here until I deem you to be of good health. After that, well, I suppose you can ask around for news about Ohlan. I know nothing about that, but perhaps Mayor Bliss will know something.”
Makara nodded. There seemed to be no other way. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”
Makara condescended to have her mouth and eyes examined, and the whole process was over in less than thirty seconds.
“All right,” Dr. Evans said, pulling back. “She’s clean.”
“Looks like you can pass through,” the guard said to Makara. “Don’t cause any trouble.”
Makara didn’t give any response to that. “Should be out of your hair soon, don’t worry.”
Despite her tough words, she was nervous about walking through the town on her own. She’d never been in a proper town like this. Raine and Angels had more souls under their care than a town this size, but this was a community she knew nothing about.
Makara wasn’t sure how it would differ from the mall, exactly, but she supposed there was only one way of finding out.
Feigning confidence, she stepped through the gate and walked down the highway, on either side of which were shabbily assembled buildings of wood and corrugated metal. People either worked in the fields of growing crops on the highway’s sides or sat on their porches. Almost everyone looked up at her while she passed. A girl with a heavy pack, a handgun, and an AR-15 was quite the sight, but no one made a move to deprive her of her possessions.