by Dirk Patton
The ride was rough, but this was what Hummers were made for. I steered at a ninety-degree angle to the highway, heading away from our ambushers. Keeping my foot on the floor, the engine roared as I cut through the sand at 50 miles an hour. I had no idea who was attacking us, or why. Right now, we needed to open some distance.
“Are they following?”
I had to shout to be heard over the bellowing engine and roar of the sand that was being thrown against the undercarriage by the tires.
“Yes,” Rachel said after a moment. “But they’re losing ground. They can’t keep up.”
I breathed a small sigh of relief. There are a handful of civilian vehicles that can stay with a Hummer across desert terrain, but there aren’t many. And they’re pretty damn expensive. Not that these guys probably didn’t have their pick of vehicles that had been left abandoned, but I wasn’t going to complain that we had an edge. But it sure would have been nice to have the grenade machine gun I’d used at Offutt Air Force Base.
My attention was focused on the ground directly in front of the vehicle, and on battling the wheel as we jolted across the uneven desert. When I looked up, I slammed the brakes on and cut the wheel hard to the side. Rachel and Dog were both thrown forward, several un-lady-like curses, and a couple of yelps, loud in my ear.
The Hummer came to a stop, dust boiling around us and obscuring our view. There was a hard bump as one of the two following vehicles came to a stop with its front bumper crashed against us.
“What the hell?” Rachel shouted.
“Big canyon. Damn near drove off a cliff!”
I shoved my door open and jumped out. My hands automatically brought the rifle up into low ready as I moved through the dust cloud to the other two vehicles. There wasn’t any breeze and the damn stuff was taking its own sweet time before clearing.
“What the fuck, sir?”
Long and Igor loomed suddenly in the blinding dust. Sam ran up from the side.
“Big ass canyon,” I said, hooking a thumb over my shoulder. “We’re cut off.”
I led the way a few yards to where the dust was thinner and looked to the east. Half a dozen sets of headlights were approaching, bouncing up and down as the vehicles navigated the rough terrain. Sam ran to the edge of the canyon, and after a few moments of looking around returned to where we were standing. Rachel and Dog had joined us.
“Not going that way,” Sam said. “It’s running for as far as I can see in each direction.”
“There a way down?” I asked, eyes glued to the approaching headlights.
“Not in a vehicle. Slope’s damn near vertical.”
“That’s why they’re not in any hurry,” Long said. “Must know it’s here.”
I nodded, then turned and looked at the three Hummers.
“Long and Igor,” I said. “Get these parked in a wedge. Igor, up on the roof with the sniper rifle. Sam, flank right, I’ll take left. On my order, we take these fuckers out.”
Everyone nodded, Long and Igor dashing to the closest vehicles and starting their engines. Sam ran off into the desert, and I turned and led Rachel and Dog to the left. I was counting on these guys not having gotten their hands on any night vision. Hopefully, since they were driving with their lights on, they hadn’t. Otherwise, they’d see Sam and me heading out to set up flanking fire.
One hundred yards to the left, I stopped behind a small outcropping of boulders. They stuck up from the sand like some giant had been playing marbles and just left them there. Dog hesitated, looking at the base of the rocks and growling. A second later, I heard the warning sound of a rattlesnake. Rachel let out a gasp of fright and jumped back.
It took me a moment to spot the little bastard. He was curled up beneath a small growth of sagebrush, only a few inches of his tail out in the open. Scooping up a fist-sized rock, I tossed it into the bush, then followed it with another. I was reaching for a third when the snake slithered into view, turned away from us and quickly retreated into the desert.
Hurrying forward, I knelt behind the rocks, Dog joining me. I looked around in surprise when Rachel didn’t kneel down on the other side of me.
“Get over here!” I hissed.
“There might be another,” she said, fear in her voice.
“Probably not, since Dog is OK,” I said in exasperation, looking back at the headlights. They were getting close. “Now get down before they see you.”
A few seconds later, Rachel moved so that she was crouched down behind Dog. Several sarcastic comments came to mind, but I kept my mouth shut and focused on our pursuers.
“I’m in position,” I said over the radio.
Sam confirmed he was ready, then Long answered for both he and Igor.
“I count eight vehicles,” I said. “Don’t have eyes on occupants.”
Sam and Long confirmed they didn't see anything different.
I watched for another few seconds. The sound of the engines was loud in the still desert air, dust swirling in the wake of the trucks and Jeeps. They slowed when they were close enough to pick out the stopped Hummers in their headlights. Soon, they were only moving at an idle, spreading out in a line to make use of all of their lights. I waited until they were abreast of my hiding place.
“Igor, take out the drivers,” I said, pulling my rifle tighter against my shoulder.
The big rifle was suppressed, and I couldn’t hear the report over the noise coming from the vehicles. My first indication that he had started shooting was when men began leaping out of one of the trucks and shouting that they were being shot at.
I knew Igor wouldn’t be able to see the drivers behind the glare of the headlights, but that didn’t really matter. All he needed to do was put a round through the windshield where a driver would be sitting. And I was pretty sure that was what he did. Quickly and efficiently.
Two of the trucks swerved towards each other, fenders crunching as they came to a stop. More men began leaping out of cabs as other vehicles changed course and slowly idled away. Soon they began firing in the direction of the Hummers, the reports from all variety of rifles harsh on the night air.
“Sam, open fire,” I said, squeezing my rifle’s trigger.
I’d like to say it was a battle. Or, at least a fight. It wasn’t. It was wholesale slaughter. One vehicle almost got away, but Igor made an improbable shot on the driver, and it crashed against a large rock. All the rest were hit, the trucks coming to a stop when they idled into softer sand or a depression in the ground.
The men that jumped out and started firing at Igor and Long’s position didn’t know enough even to go prone and reduce their profile. They just stood in the open and fired blindly at our vehicles.
Sam and I methodically worked our way through them, our suppressed rifles unheard by our targets. Quickly, there were only three men still standing. One of them looked around at all the bodies on the sand, and I had a perfect view of his face through my scope. He was terrified. Almost all of his friends had died in less than a minute, and he hadn’t heard anything other than his own weapon.
“Cease fire!” I called on the radio.
The three men that were still standing had thrown their weapons onto the ground and raised their hands in the air. An eerie silence descended over the desert in the absence of gunfire. Other than the idling of the vehicles that were still running, it was quiet.
“I count three targets surrendering. All others down,” I said into the radio.
“Confirmed,” Sam said.
“Da,” Igor answered after a long pause.
“Everyone stay put, and watch my ass,” I said. “I’m advancing on the targets.”
When I received three confirmations, I stood and stepped around the rocks, my rifle trained on the men. Dog moved with me, tight against my left hip, Rachel bringing up the rear.
“Move and you’re dead,” I shouted before stepping into the light of the closest vehicle.
Their heads swiveled in my direction, but I was still masked by
the night. I took my time advancing, checking each body I encountered. My focus wasn’t on the three men with their hands high in the air. I trusted Igor, Long, and Sam to put them down instantly if any one of them made a grab for a weapon.
The third man I checked was still alive. Barely, but his eyes were open, and blood was trickling out of his mouth and across his chin. He must have taken a bullet through a lung. I pointed my rifle at his head and pulled the trigger. It was a bit of mercy, but mostly I didn’t want him behind me on the off chance he could summon up enough energy to pick up a rifle and start shooting.
Several more bodies, all dead, and I moved into the light and stopped ten yards in front of the men. Dog stayed close, Rachel moving to my right.
“Tell Rachel move,” Igor said over the radio. “She in way.”
I glanced around and gestured for her to step to the side. To her credit, she did as I asked without questioning why. I made a mental note to talk to her about making sure you didn’t step into someone’s line of fire.
Turning back, I faced three very frightened men. Two of them were young, no more than their early twenties. They were literally shaking in fear. The third, standing closest to me, was nearer my age. He was severely overweight, squeezed into a pair of Army surplus BDU pants and an OD green T-shirt. He was sweating heavily, even though the night was cool.
“Who are you?” I asked, keeping my rifle trained on his jiggling belly.
“M-m-m-mark Ames,” he stammered in fright.
“What the fuck did you think you were doing, Mark?”
“I’m a Captain in the Nevada Militia. We’re just protecting our territory.”
I snorted and shook my head.
“How is it none of you are infected?” Rachel asked.
“Don’t know,” he said, glancing at her before cutting his eyes back to the muzzle of my rifle. “We just aren’t.”
I could feel Rachel look at me, but I didn’t take my attention off the fat man.
“How many of you are there?” I asked.
He stared back at me for a moment, nervously licking his lips. He didn’t want to answer. Without warning, I fired a round into the ground at his feet. The report of the rifle was muted, but he still jumped like a cattle prod had been rammed up his ass.
“I’m not fucking around,” I said. “And I’m not asking again.”
“About four hundred,” he said.
I stared at him, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. Finally, I decided he was too scared to be anything other than honest.
“And what the hell did you want with us?”
“We’re supposed to stop any survivors. Find out what they’re doing in our territory.”
I didn’t like the tone in his voice when he answered the question.
“And what are you supposed to do with survivors?”
He stared back at me, sweat trickling down his jowls and staining the collar of his shirt. His silence answered my question.
“Watch them,” I said to Rachel and moved out of the prisoners’ earshot.
“Local militia,” I said into the radio. “Big boy here says there’s 400 of them. Igor and Long, find some high ground and see if there’s any more out there.”
“Copy that,” Long answered.
“No infection?” Sam asked.
“Negative. No sign of it. They seem perfectly normal.”
One of the Humvees started up and headed north towards a low bluff. Igor and Long should have a commanding view of the area from the top.
“What are you going to do with them?” Sam asked.
I turned and looked at the three men being guarded by Dog and Rachel.
14
“Can they be immune?” I asked Rachel.
Long had returned, leaving Igor on the high ground to keep watch over the surrounding area. The three men were tied up and sitting in the sand in front of one of their trucks.
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “Sure, it’s possible, but I can’t see this many people, unrelated, all with immunity to the virus.”
“No,” I agreed. “I’m going to have a chat with them, then we’ve got to get back on the road. Clock’s ticking for our pilot.”
Everyone nodded as I turned to look at the frightened prisoners.
“Separate them,” I said to Sam and Long. “Each of you take one of the kids. Move them far enough away that they can’t hear my conversation with tubby.”
They walked over, each grabbing an arm. The younger men protested, fearful they were about to be executed.
“What are you going to do?” Rachel asked, staying me with a hand on my arm.
“Going to ask some questions,” I said, looking into her eyes.
She stared back at me for a few moments, then lowered her hand. I held her gaze for another beat, then walked to where the man was sitting. Slinging my rifle, I squatted down in the sand in front of him.
“Here’s the deal,” I said in a calm, reasonable voice. “We’re not a militia. We’re the real deal. US military. And you made a big fucking mistake trying to stop us.”
He bobbed his head up and down in agreement, the wattles of fat under his chin jiggling with the motion.
“So, I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer me. If you don’t answer, or I think you’re lying to me,” I paused as I drew my Ka-Bar. “I’m going to start carving off body parts and feeding them to that dog over there. Then, if you’re still not telling me what I want to know, that’s OK. He’ll have a taste for you, and I’ll let him come over and take the parts he wants. Tell me you understand.”
I was looking at the knife blade as I spoke, twisting it slowly in the air. Turning it over and examining it before holding it up above eye level to peer at the edge.
“Whatever you want, mister. And I’m sorry. We didn’t know there was any military left. Thought you was some outlaws or something.”
“Hmmph,” I grumbled, gently pressing the point of the blade into the sand and looking up to meet his eyes.
“How have you survived the virus and the infected?” I asked.
“We’re the militia. We hid out until they left.”
He spoke in a rush, the words tumbling out of his mouth.
“Hid out? Where?”
“We was in bunkers. Bunch of us been preparing for years. Then a couple weeks ago we started coming out.”
“400 of you? That’s a lot of bunkers,” I said. “Lot of food and water to have been holed up for months.”
“Like I said, we been prepping for a long time. The General’s got this big property and we been getting ready.”
I kept my expression neutral, but the mention of someone called, The General, worried me. I’d already met The Reverend, and I wasn’t in any hurry to meet any more nut cases.
“Tell me about the General,” I said.
“She’s our leader. Without her, we wouldn’t have survived.”
“Her?”
I was surprised. Not that a woman couldn’t be their leader, but it sure wasn’t what I expected.
“Where’d she come from?”
“What?”
“Was she an Army General? Maybe Marines or Air Force?”
“I think maybe Army. She’s got a uniform and medals and a couple of them pistols like Generals wear.”
“What pistols?” I asked.
“You know. Big ones. .45s, I think. With pearl handles?”
“Like Patton?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, happy I’d figured it out. “Just like in the movie!”
Just fucking great. This was all I needed. Some fuckwit in the middle of the Nevada desert who thought she was Patton.
“Now, tell me again,” I said without revealing my thoughts. “Why were you trying to stop us?”
The man hesitated, and I could see him trying to come up with an answer.
“You’ve done good up until now, Mark,” I said, raising the knife. “You don’t want to start playing game
s at this point. It wouldn’t be fun for either of us.”
His eyes were once again glued to the blade as I slowly waved it around in the air.
“We was out scouting,” he said, swallowing hard. “Saw you rolling into Crystal Springs. Figured you’d have food and water. Maybe some medical supplies, and some…”
“Some, what?”
He didn’t want to answer. Stared at the knife and swallowed hard again. When his eyes flicked to Rachel, I knew what he was going to say. Fortunately, she wasn’t paying close attention. Otherwise, she’d probably have shot all three of them on the spot. I looked into his eyes and nodded.
“I understand,” I said in a quiet voice. “So, you saw us in Crystal Springs. Were you getting your instructions from that broadcast?”
“What broadcast?” He asked.
I narrowed my eyes and looked at him.
“The broadcast on the AM radio. A woman telling different units to check in.”
He was shaking his head before I finished speaking.
“I don’t know what you heard, mister, but it weren’t us. We got some walkie talkies, but no transmitter like you’re talking ‘bout.”
I glared at him for a few moments, satisfying myself he was telling the truth. Shit! That meant there was another group out there.
Standing, I took a look around, verifying that Long and Sam were not only watching the prisoners but keeping an eye on our surroundings.
“Igor,” I said into the radio.
“Da?”
“Any movement?”
“Nyet. Is quiet.”
I turned another circle, trading looks with Rachel, then squatted back down in front of the man I was interrogating.
“Where’s this General?”
“I can’t tell you that,” he said nervously. “You’re military. You know how it is.”
I stared hard at him for a moment.
“First, don’t ever compare yourself to me. We’re not the same. Not even close. Second, the rules haven’t changed. You answer my questions unless you want to start losing body parts.”