by Rod Carstens
Escape and Evade
By
Rod Carstens
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2017 by Roger C. Huder
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.
Read other Rod Carstens books:
Blood War Series
Last of the Legion: Rift
Marine Raiders: Strike Back
The Conscripts
No Mercy
The Collapse Series
Free Fire Zone
Stand Alone Books
Dispatches from a Future War
Salvaged
Chapter One
Vin Tanner froze. He heard them talking in the hall not fifteen feet away from the office he was searching. The office almost looked normal, except for an inches-deep covering of dust and dirt that had blown in through the broken windows. No one had ransacked the floor for the tech or other usable items yet. The desks, old computers, and chairs were completely undisturbed, as if the occupants had just left and were coming back soon. It was a gold mine. Now it looked like he would have to fight just to survive, much less scavenge this treasure trove. Tanner slowly squatted down behind a desk facing the only door into the large office space. It was divided up into cubicles by three quarter walls that were head high. He raised his rifle, checked his magazine, and slipped the safety off. He couldn’t retreat and was reluctant to take the scavengers on without knowing how many of them were on the floor. He could hear Cat’s words ringing in his ears now: “You don’t go scavenging by yourself ever.“ He had broken one of his own Stupid Rules, and it was about to cost him his life.
He was in an old high-rise, closer to the City-State of New York than he had been since going rogue and walking away from the Resource Control Forces. Airborne and ground Resource teams were numerous in the area, and he had been dodging them for days. He was taking this risk because they desperately needed technology back at the Mall. When they had run from the settlement they'd found while searching for Bandon Rule, their destination had been a largely abandoned mall. After they arrived, they’d found a couple of families barely scraping out a survival living among its ruins by planting crops under the skylights. Now with an infusion of organization and new skills they had brought with them, it was a thriving settlement growing as more and more people heard of its existence. The Resource Control Forces, as well as the Spec Ops troops, were still desperately trying to find Brandon Rule, and unless Tanner could determine why, they would never be safe as long as Rule was with the settlement.
But right now Tanner was worried whether he would survive the next five minutes.
He had climbed into the high-rise in an attempt to find old technology—computers, hard drives, anything that could be refurbished or had the necessary parts to build the technology they desperately needed. The building was one of the oldest still-existing high-rises outside the City. It was close to fifty stories high if you counted the crumbling upper stories. Tanner had entered it the day before and slowly made his way up the building, searching each floor carefully. It had been an office tower fifty years ago. Now it was just another crumbling building on the outskirts of the City-State of New York. A slowly disintegrating reminder of how things used to be before the Bad Times began. He had climbed the stairs, and when those were gone, he had climbed the outside of the building using the vines and trees that had slowly taken over the exterior. He thought he had scrambled high enough that other scavengers would not be willing to make the effort with no promise of a payoff. He had been wrong.
He could see two of them at the door peering into the room.
“You see anything?”
“Naw, just a bunch of dividers and desks and stuff.”
“Okay, let’s get back down—”
“Look. Footprints, and those are good military boots.”
Tanner glanced down, and sure enough, he had been leaving footprints in the thick dust that covered the floor. They led right to him. He knew he couldn’t hide from them and there was no place to go.
“Hey, Joe, we got something in here!” one of scavengers yelled. “Bring the rest of the guys down!”
Tanner knew he couldn’t wait for them to get organized. He needed to move first. He still had a magazine of mini-explosive rounds, and it looked like now was the time to use them. Tanner had been saving them for a special occasion. And saving his life? Didn’t get any more special than that.
He could hear the sound of people running in his direction. No time like the present. Memo to self—don’t break the damn Stupid Rule again, Vin thought. If you live to remember it. He waited until it sounded like the others had joined the two outside the door. He stood with his rifle pointed at them. The doorway was empty, but he saw a rifle barrel sticking out from the right and a shotgun from the left. He aimed carefully and put three rounds on each side of the door. The old drywall disappeared in a series of explosions as the rounds blew, spreading shrapnel into the men in the hall. There were screams, and a man fell face first across the doorway. Tanner put another round into him, and his side exploded in a mist of blood and flesh.
Someone stuck an AK-47 around the corner from the left of the door and sprayed the room wildly before Tanner could duck back down. One round came so near his head he heard the snap as it passed his right ear. He fired another three rounds into the left side of the wall. He heard the distinctive sound of a mini-explosive round detonating inside someone, and then there was a thud as the body hit the floor. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he pulled out his .45 and the tomahawk he had fashioned out of an old ax he had scrounged. He crouched and moved through the maze of cubicles. He could hear sounds from the hall: groans, and cries, but also something else. The purposeful movements of someone not injured.
“Bear, please don’t leave me,” a female voice pleaded.
“Shut the fuck up,” someone growled. Then he spoke in Tanner's direction. “Why don’t you just come on out and we’ll get this over with? You’re not going to get out of here alive. I’m the one that's going to be using that .75. Or is it a .95? Either way, I’m going to be using it soon. So come on out and let me have it, and maybe I won’t take so long to kill you.”
Tanner moved carefully, crouched down. This Bear guy sounded very confident. Guys didn’t get the nickname Bear because they were cute and cuddly. He could expect a real bad guy waiting for him. Tanner rounded the corner of the first line of dividers that led to the door into the office.
Suddenly a male body was thrown through the door.
“Nooo!”
Tanner put three rounds from his .45 into the moving body. He went down heavily and was still.
“So you’re using a pistol now. I need a new pistol. Things get even better.”
This guy was willing to throw his own into the room to understand where Tanner was, and he had fallen for it. He heard the sound of someone moving. Now Bear knew where he was and had shifted to the other side of the door. Tanner heard the scraping sound of furniture being moved; this guy was making a barricade. He was losing the initiative his explosive rounds had given him.
There was no time to wait and think. It was time for overwhelming speed and force. Tanner stood and sprinted through the door, his pistol raised and his tomahawk ready to strike. The moment Tanner entered the hall he saw the man they called Bear. He was huge, with a full beard and long, black, greasy hair, a large kitchen knife in one hand while with the other he was overturning a desk. Tanner fired just as the desk flip
ped up; it took the round instead of Bear. Bear took the opportunity to shove the desk into Tanner, knocking him down. Tanner kicked at it, but it still fell on him, and Bear followed up on his advantage, jumping on the desk. In spite of his size Bear was quick. He was on top of Tanner with the desk between them before Tanner could move away. Bear brought the big kitchen knife down toward Tanner’s head, but Tanner was able to move out of the way, and the knife point drove into the dust-covered carpet just to the right of his ear.
Tanner kicked at the desk, trying to get it off of him. His arm was trapped with his pistol underneath it. He swung his tomahawk and caught Bear on the right shoulder. The blade cut deep, but Bear only growled and shoved the desk harder down on Tanner. This guy was big and quick, a combination that got you killed. For the first time, Tanner felt a flash of uncertainty go through him as Bear used his weight to press the desk down onto him.
“Nobody fucks with the bear and lives,” Bear growled in Tanner’s face. He had breath so bad it made Tanner want to turn his head even in the midst of fighting for his life.
“Dude, you may be a badass, but you got some bad breath,” Tanner said with a deliberate smile.
It did just what he had hoped. A “victim” about to be killed making fun of his breath pulled Bear up for just a moment. Tanner didn’t imagine that anyone had ever said something like that to him before. Instead of pressing his advantage, Bear hesitated. Long enough for Tanner to turn his wrist with his pistol almost at a forty-five-degree angle. Tanner pulled the trigger, again and again, firing blindly in Bear’s direction. The first round missed and Bear reared up in surprise, but by moving, he had put himself in the line of fire. The next one caught Bear in his gut.
Tanner pushed up on the desk with his feet, and the next round caught Bear higher up in the gut, and the third round found his chest. Bear got this surprised expression, like he’d never thought that this could happen to him, and slowly stood up. He stood there looking down at his chest and stomach, blood pouring from his wounds. When Bear got up, he took his weight off the desk and Tanner was able to kick the desk off of him. Bear put a hand on his stomach as if to hold in the blood gushing out of his wounds. He stared down at his hand with a look of complete disbelief on his face. Tanner brought the .45 up with both hands and took careful aim at Bear’s forehead.
“You killed me, you little fuck,” Bear said in disbelief.
“You’re fuckin’ a right I did,” Tanner said, and pulled the trigger.
Bear’s head jerked back, and he fell backward, landing flat on his back, his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Tanner stood, his pistol and tomahawk at the ready. Counting Bear, there were four gang members down. All dead. Tanner backed into the office, squatted, holstered his pistol, and put his tomahawk back in its scabbard. He slipped his rifle around and waited for more gang members. After fifteen minutes of silence, Tanner finally stood. That was when he heard something—movement close by. They must have heard him stand.
“Are you alive? Please help me,” a female voice cried.
Tanner slowly moved down the hall toward the sound of the voice.
“Please, are you there? Did you kill Bear? Help me, please.”
Tanner moved carefully down the hall, his rifle up and ready, until he heard the metallic sound of chains and someone moving in a room to his left. He slowly exposed himself in the doorway. Tanner found a girl with a dog collar padlocked around her neck, connected to a heavy chain that was locked to a building column. She had dirty, matted white-blonde hair, but even under all the dirt and grime, he could tell she was beautiful with a full, ripe figure. She was naked under an old men’s shirt with the arms cut off that was several sizes too big for her, and wore unlaced boots. On her right arm was a big B branded into her flesh. She looked up at him with eyes that couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“Is he dead? Is he?”
“Who?”
“Bear, is he dead?”
“Yes. Yes, he is dead.”
She began to cry. Tanner was stunned. It was apparent this poor girl had been “owned” by Bear. He could only imagine what life must have been like for her. He walked over to her and saw that a lock held the metal dog collar around her neck.
“Where’s the key?”
“In his shirt pocket,” she managed between sobs.
Tanner walked down the hall to the body of the big man. Bear, despite having a nice round hole in his forehead, was still gasping for his last breaths. Sometimes the body doesn’t know that it’s dead. Tanner hesitated, then decided to help him along. He found the key in his left breast pocket, then pulled out his pistol and put a round through his heart. Bear stopped breathing, and without a look back Tanner returned to the room where the girl was chained.
He took the key and unlocked the collar around her neck. Her neck was rubbed raw, bleeding where the collar had chafed her skin. Those damaged eyes looked up at him with an emotion he had never seen on someone’s face before. As if she had been dead and now was alive.
“Can you stand?” Tanner asked.
“Yes, yes. I can stand.”
She stood, and Tanner was surprised she was as tall as he was.
“What’s your name?”
“I’ve been called Blondie since I can remember. I don’t remember my real name anymore. Not after…”
“Blondie’s not a bad name. I’m Tanner. Vin Tanner.”
“Is he dead? I didn’t think anybody could kill him.”
“Yes, he’s dead. Why don’t you come out and see for yourself? It might help.”
She hesitated, then followed him into the hall. She approached Bear’s body as if she thought he would jump up at any moment. Finally, when she saw his half-open eyes and the hole in his forehead, she kicked him once, and when he didn’t move, she kicked him again and again until she was out of breath. Tanner let her do what she needed to do until she stopped.
Then he said, “Why don’t you find some clothes that might fit you from the bodies.”
“I can’t wear anything they had on. Not ever.”
“Okay. Look, I’m from a settlement and I’m here to scavenge. You are welcome to come back with me, but I need some help carrying back what I found.”
“Ok. They used me to carry most of their heavy equipment as well as…I’m strong.”
“Good. Can you do it dressed the way you are?”
“Yes, of course. This is all I’ve had to wear for…”
“Okay, I will need you to grab one of their packs to carry the stuff back. You good for that?”
“Yes, yes, of course, anything.”
Tanner led her into the office and then, using a list and drawings that Rule had given him, he and Blondie took the computers and other equipment apart and loaded their packs with components. It took them several hours. It was dark when they had finished. After this little encounter, Tanner didn’t want to spend another night in the building. They needed to move and harbor up until dawn.
Blondie proved to be a quick learner. She had worked beside him doing exactly what he told her and even pointing out parts he had missed after a while. She was adjusting the straps on the pack when he said, “Do you know how to use a weapon?”
“Yes.”
“Come here.”
Tanner took her into the hall and found the shotgun he had seen. It was an old 12 Mossberg with a short barrel and a pistol grip. He pulled it out of the dead gang member’s hand and then pulled the bandolier of extra shells he wore.
“Okay, this is a shotgun. You point it in the direction of the bad guy, and this thing will take care of the rest. It is not, and I repeat not, for anyone more than twenty-five or thirty feet away. It is a close-in weapon, but you don’t need much training, and it can do some damage.”
He handed it to Blondie, who took it as if it was a precious object. She slung the shotgun over her shoulder and put the bandolier across her chest.
“Can I get a couple of things?” Blondie asked.
�
��Sure, but remember, anything adds to your load you have to carry.”
Blondie went to the body of Bear and found the kitchen knife and the scabbard for it and put them on her belt. She searched through his clothes until she found a key and put it in her pocket.
“Never again,” Blondie said, staring down at Bear.
Then she pulled the big butcher knife out and stabbed between his legs into his genitals.
“That’s for me, that’s for Jenny, that’s for little Sara, and Baby.”
Tanner now knew why in the old days the worst thing that could happen to you as a prisoner was to be turned over to the women. He shivered and said, “You done?”
Blondie stood and looked him in the eye. Her eyes were different. She had exorcised some demons with the act. She looked ready. He showed her how to carry the shotgun across her chest and still manage the pack. They set off for the settlement.
Chapter Two
Ashton Rand stood up and walked to the wall of windows that covered the west side of his office. He could see miles into the Free Fire Zones outside of the City. Small columns of smoke rose from the cooking fires of thousands of little groups of people, in the ruins of what had once been the City. Men, women, and children were struggling to survive with no infrastructure to provide food, water, or any of the essentials that they needed to have a decent life. He wondered how they did it, cold in the winter, hot in the summer, fighting for living space against the constant pressure of gangs. On top of all those problems, they had to be concerned with the Internal Security teams of the Resource Control Command. If they had been smarter or better connected, they could have found a way into the City.
Over the landscape of ruined and collapsed buildings, streets, and infrastructure, the tilt-rotors of the Special Action Teams and Internal Security teams flitted over the decay like birds of prey as they performed their various missions. From three hundred stories above the ground, it all looked like some computer game. A game that he helped run. A game that was about to change.