by Steven Bird
Okay, you filthy degenerates, here we go! he thought as he retrieved a plastic water bottle from the bag. Removing the cap, Jessie took a sniff of the contents and smiled. You might not be getting your van back, boys, but I’ll be nice enough to give you some of its fuel back, he thought as he tossed the bottle through the window toward the fire.
Almost instantly, with a loud whoosh, the fire rapidly expanded, burning the volatile contents of the bottle, causing a flash of hot flames that engulfed several of the men sitting around the fire. Two of the men, consumed by the burning flames, began running away from the fire, screaming as the others began to try to figure out what had just happened, while reaching for their weapons.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Jessie tossed a second and a third bottle into the flames, expanding the fire’s reach, pushing the men away from the fire. Aiming into the flames, Jessie began firing his FAL into the room in the direction of the men, although he was unable to get a good sight-picture because of the blinding light of the massive flames. At that moment, however, he knew he needed to keep the pressure on them regardless as to whether he made any direct hits, so that Ash could make her entry into the basement undetected.
With the men in the basement blindly returning fire on his position, bullets ricocheting off the concrete windowsill, Jessie tossed his final gasoline bottle into the room and then immediately ran along the outside wall to the window in the far corner of the room. He swung it open, and jumped feet first onto the basement floor below. With the men still focused on the window by the fire, Jessie took aim, firing a well-placed shot that struck one of the men firing on his previous position squarely in the back, dropping him face first into the fire.
As the man’s body began to sizzle on the hot coals, Jessie quickly acquired his next target. With two men remaining in the room, Jessie fired, striking a large, longhaired man directly in the abdomen, while the other returned fire with an AR-15, narrowly missing Jessie’s head. Rounds glancing off the concrete wall beside him sent concrete fragments bouncing off the side of Jessie’s face.
Quickly firing another shot, Jessie took down the shooter with a shot to the throat, nearly beheading the man with the powerful one-hundred-and-sixty-eight-grain projectile, severing his spine, with a mist of blood splattering on the wall behind him.
Looking back to his left, Jessie saw the man with the abdominal wound still alive and struggling to reach his weapon. With a quick follow-up shot, Jessie ended the man’s suffering and removed him as a threat.
As Jessie watched the dead man’s face hit the floor, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, on the stairs leading to the upper floor of the facility. Quickly turning to his right to face the threat, his pulse raced as he thought to himself, Wolf! Seeing the group’s vicious leader on the stairs aiming an AK at him, Jessie dove to his left while firing several shots in the direction of the stairs in an attempt at interrupting Wolf’s chance at making a good shot.
With several rapid muzzle flashes coming from Wolf’s rifle, the room seemed to go silent as Jessie dove to the floor. Squeezing off several more shots of his own while in midair, Jessie saw his rounds impact the wall directly behind Wolf, forcing him to turn and flee up the stairs.
Slamming down onto the cold hard concrete floor, Jessie regrouped, checked his rifle, and said, “Oh, no, you don’t, you dirty son of a b——. You’re not getting away from me that easy.”
~~~~
As the silence of the night was broken by Jessie’s assault on the main basement chamber, Ash heard several loud male voices inside the hallway. Quickly opening the door to see one of the men running away from her and toward Jessie’s attack, Ash sent two rapid-fire shots into his back, dropping him forward, smashing his face on the floor, dead on contact.
Before she could scan the area for additional threats, a hand grabbed the barrel of her rifle as a large man slammed her into the wall, forcing the center of her rifle against her neck as he took hold of the stock as well. Unable to breathe, Ash struggled as the man lifted her off of the floor, pushing her up with her back to the wall.
Staring down at the man in the dark hallway, she could barely make out who he was. All she could tell was that the man reeked of alcohol and sweat and was missing several teeth, with the few that remained full of rot and decay. As the man pushed her harder and harder against the wall, he said, “If only you could have gotten here sooner, we could have had a real party then.”
Fading quickly from being unable draw her breath under the crushing force of the rifle, Ash released her grip on the gun and desperately reached into her waistband, pulling her knife from its sheath and thrusting it into the man’s stomach.
Seeing the look of fear in his eyes, the man maintained his pressure on the rifle as if frozen in place. With a side-slashing motion, Ash felt the wet warmth of the man’s entrails as they spilled out onto the floor before her, forced out by the contraction of his own muscles as he struggled to strangle her.
Releasing his grip on the rifle, he dropped to his knees as Ash dropped to the floor, landing on her feet and momentarily dropping to her knees. Still alive and almost in a daze, the man held his own guts in his blood-covered hands. He slowly looked up at her, only to see the butt of her rifle come smashing down on his face, and then—darkness.
The man now lying before her on the floor in a bloody mess, Ash wiped her hands free of his blood and looked up through the open door from which he had come. With several candles lighting the room, she slowly entered with her rifle at the ready, hearing only whimpers of fear.
Rounding the corner, her rifle aimed at the sound, Ash saw a half-dressed, petite, young, blonde-haired girl shivering with fear in the corner. Thinking that the girl couldn’t be more than fifteen years old and obviously the victim of terrible abuse at the hands of the gang, Ash slung her rifle over her shoulder and whispered, “Shhhhh, it’s okay. We’re gonna get you out of here now.”
Unable to speak, the young girl’s eyes filled with tears as her emotions overwhelmed her.
“Do you have any clothes?” Ash quietly asked, noticing that the girl was naked from the waist down. Looking around the room, Ash saw a pair of blood-stained pants on the floor, quickly picked them up, and took them over to the girl, saying, “Quick, put these on. We need to get out of here.”
Nodding yes, the emotional and terrified young girl took Ash’s hand, stood up, and slipped her legs one at a time into her jeans.
“Shoes? Do you have shoes?” Ash asked.
Shaking her head no in response, Ash said, “It’s okay. We can worry about that later. Can you walk?”
Nodding yes, Ash took the girl’s hand and said, “Hold on to me,” as she brought her rifle back to the low ready and led the girl into the dark, blood-filled hallway.
After ensuring that the path was seemingly devoid of any new threats, Ash led the young girl into the hallway and over the dead man’s body. Tired and weak, the young girl’s bare feet slipped in the dead man’s blood, causing her to nearly fall to the floor.
Catching her by the arm, Ash said, “Quick, this way,” as she led her out the side door.
Looking up into the sky, the moon now free of the clouds and shining brightly, Ash looked around and whispered, “Screw it. We’ve got to make a run for the riverbank. Let’s go!”
Pulling on the girl’s hand, the two started to run for the river. Stepping on something sharp with her bare foot, the young girl winced in pain, slowed to a walk and began limping severely.
Wasting no time, Ash knelt down before the girl and said, “Climb on. I’ve got you.”
Running toward the river with the girl on her back, Ash’s rifle dangled awkwardly in front of her on the sling around her neck, bouncing off her knees as she ran. Once over the edge of the riverbank, taking cover out of the line of sight of the facility, Ash dropped to her knees, placed her hand on her rifle, and just watched, looking and listening for any signs of movement.
Still hearing gunfire coming f
rom within the building, she said, “Good, he’s still in the fight.” Turning her head to look back at the girl still perched on her back, Ash said, “Okay, let’s get going. He’s going to meet up with us at the reservoir.”
Speaking her first word to Ash, the young girl nervously muttered, “Who?”
“My, I mean, our, friend. His name is Jessie. He’s fighting off the bad men that took you. He’s going to catch up with us at the reservoir. From there, we’ll figure out where to go next, but I promise you, it’ll be far from here.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Running up the stairs in pursuit of Wolf, Jessie held his rifle at the high ready, preparing to fire at the sign of even the slightest movement. Reaching the upper floor, Jessie scanned the immediate area, seeing office chairs and furniture scattered about, as well as signs that some of the men had been using the area as their makeshift sleeping quarters. Dirty blankets and empty beer cans were strewn about, as well as a pile of discarded prescription drug bottles and hypodermic needles.
Hearing an office chair bump into a desk on the far side of the room, Jessie turned to see Wolf taking aim, followed by a click. With an enraged facial expression, Wolf rotated the gun sideways to look at the rifle’s action, realizing that his weapon had suffered a failed-to-extract malfunction.
Bringing his FAL to bear, taking aim at Wolf, Jessie began to squeeze the trigger as a flash of light came into view in the corner of his eye, followed by the feeling of a thud and a deep burning sensation in his shoulder. Staggering and stumbling backward, Jessie saw Wolf running out the door on the far side of the room as another man rushed toward him, pistol in hand.
Falling backward into a desk and weakened by his injury, Jessie lost his grip on his FAL, dropping the rifle to the ground. With his attacker rapidly approaching, Jessie saw another flash of light followed by the loud muzzle report of a long-barreled revolver, as a bullet whizzed by his head.
Knowing that he must put distance between himself and the other man while he assessed his own injuries, Jessie turned to run while simultaneously drawing his M1911A1 .45 caliber pistol, firing several shots blindly in the man’s direction. With his poorly aimed shots slowing the man’s advances, Jessie made a break for the door.
Running out of the east-facing door of the upper level, Jessie saw the residential area of Dolores just a few hundred yards ahead. With focused determination, he ran as hard as he could up Railroad Avenue, ignoring the intense pain in his shoulder.
Hearing the pop of several more shots behind him, Jessie knew his pursuer was still in the fight. Reaching 1st Street, Jessie turned left, putting several houses between himself and the shooter. He then jogged right, cutting through an abandoned home’s backyard. Hopping over the short picket fence on the other side of the yard, he then turned right onto 2nd Street, running back across Railroad Avenue and into the neighborhood on the south side of town in an attempt to throw his pursuers off of his trail.
Ducking left into an overgrown yard out of a desperate need to stop and treat his wound, Jessie knew he couldn’t keep pushing all the way to the supply-filled basement where Ash had gotten by all that time. Hesitating momentarily, Jessie entered the back door of an old two-story house marked with the infamous red X painted on the front. Upon entering the home, Jessie pulled his shirt up and over his nose and mouth in an attempt to filter the potentially contaminated air. Jessie could smell an odd smell as he crept through the house. He knew it must have been a long time since anyone had died here, but was still uneasy due to his self-admitted ignorance of the sickness that had previously swept through the town.
With his pistol in his right hand and his left applying pressure to the wound on his left shoulder, Jessie carefully walked through the kitchen and into the living room of the home. With the curtains tied open, there was just enough light from the moon shining through the windows to guide his way.
Noticing the manner in which personal items and children’s toys were left out-and-about around the house, it appeared to Jessie that no one had simply packed up and left. It was as if life in the home had simply frozen in its tracks. There were even several pairs of shoes on the floor and jackets on the coat hook by the front door.
Walking over to the front door, peeking outside through the small decorative glass windows going down the center of the door, Jessie didn’t see any signs of activity out front or on the street. As he turned around, he couldn’t help but see a pair of car keys and a woman’s purse hanging from the decorative key hook. The key hook resembled an elementary school arts-and-crafts project, and appeared to spell out what he assumed were the initials of the home’s occupants. Nobody got out of here, Jessie thought as an eerie feeling swept through his body.
Damn, this hurts, he thought to himself as he lifted his hand to look at his wound underneath. I’ve got to get this properly dressed.
Looking to the other side of the large living room, Jessie saw what appeared to be a bathroom. Entering the bathroom, Jessie went straight for the medicine cabinet above the sink in an effort to find supplies that he might use to treat his wound. Feeling around in the darkness to find his way, Jessie thought to himself, damn it! as he could find only aspirin and a box of small, finger-sized, peel-and-stick bandages.
Taking a deep breath, Jessie knew the best hope he had for finding medical supplies would be in the couple’s main bathroom, probably co-located with their bedroom, which he assumed to be upstairs. Fearing what he might find, Jessie shrugged it off and proceeded quietly up the steps with his .45 at the low ready in his right hand.
Jessie found the upstairs to be much darker than the main floor below. The curtains on the windows had remained shut, preventing the moonlight from guiding his way. Bumping into a small decorative table at the end of the hallway at the top of the stairs, Jessie found several half-burned candles and a large box of matches.
Of course, he thought. Surely the power had been out for some time before whatever happened to the people who lived here took place.
Fumbling around in the dark with the box of matches, after several attempts at holding the box steady against the desk with his knee and striking the matches with his only free hand, one of the matches finally sizzled to life. The burning match illuminated the candle, which Jessie quickly lit, bringing a faint, flickering light to the hallway.
Picking up his .45 and sliding it into his waistband, Jessie took the candle with his right hand and continued to work his way slowly down the hall. Reaching the first bedroom door on the right, Jessie knelt down and placed the candle on the floor to free up his right hand. He then turned the knob slowly, with the door creaking ominously as it opened. Picking up the candle with his free hand and nudging the door open with his elbow, Jessie was horrified to see a child’s bed. Lying on top of the bed, covered completely by the bed’s sheets, was what appeared to be the small body of a deceased child. Jessie guessed that the child must have been no more than six or seven years old when he or she died.
Feeling his stomach twist into knots from the emotional scene, Jessie realized that the curtains for the window directly in front of him were drawn back, potentially giving away his position as the bright candle would be easily seen from the street. Ducking back into the hallway, Jessie continued down the hall, this time going to the room on the end. This is more than likely Mom and Dad’s room, he thought.
Repeating his process of placing the candle on the floor so that he could open the door with his only free hand, Jessie nudged the door open to find yet another bed. This time, however, the bed contained an adult-sized body underneath the covers. The entire family must have gotten sick, he thought. Taking a step into the room after ascertaining that the curtains were closed to prevent exposure of the candlelight, Jessie began to look for an en-suite bathroom where the parents may have kept their medical supplies.
Several steps into the room, Jessie nudged something in the floor with his left foot. His heart skipping a beat, he held the candle lower to find the decayed cor
pse of a man lying face down on the floor, on top of what appeared to be old, dry blood stains on the carpet beneath him.
With a small entry hole and a large exit hole in the man’s skull, Jessie looked around on the floor to find a Smith & Wesson revolver lying just out of reach of the man’s hand, as if it had slid across the floor on impact.
I guess Dad just couldn’t deal with it, Jessie thought. Reflecting back to his own loss, Jessie understood the pain the man had gone through and knew that he had narrowly avoided such a self-inflicted fate.
As he entered the master bathroom, Jessie opened the bathroom closet to find washcloths and towels, as well as assorted hair and skin-care items on the shelves. Seeing a box of gauze bandages in the back of the closet, he reached inside to retrieve them, when all of a sudden he was slammed against the wall by a full speed tackle. Dropping the candle inside the closet during the impact, Jessie found himself lying on the floor being repeatedly punched by one of the men from Wolf’s gang.
As the man beat Jessie mercilessly while shouting expletives, Jessie struggled to block the blows, with little success. Giving up on his defensive blocks, Jessie reached into his waistband and gripped his .45 pistol, clicked off the thumb safety, and brought it to bear against the man. His attacker then immediately grabbed Jessie’s arm as the weapon discharged. Narrowly missing the man’s side, Jessie tried to shoot a second time to no avail. Jam! he thought, realizing that his awkward one-handed shooting position must have led to a limp-wrist-induced failure of the weapon to properly cycle another round into the chamber.
As the man struggled with Jessie for control of the pistol, he found Jessie’s wound and shoved his thumb forcefully inside, underneath Jessie’s collar bone, where the bullet was lodged. With excruciating pain surging through Jessie’s body, he let out a tremendous scream as he remembered his knife.