by SD Tanner
“Stop the truck. Leave the engine running.”
Ruth did as she was ordered, and with the engine idling loudly, they sat in their vehicle just thirty yards from the crash site on the bridge, watching the crumpled trucks and cars intently.
“What do you think?” Andy asked, sounding anxious. “What if they’ve got us targeted?”
“Just wait. If there’s anyone in there, they’ll make themselves known,” he replied calmly.
Narrowing his eyes, he held his gun in a firing position. Breathing evenly and steadily, he waited to see what would happen next. If there were anyone in there, they would want their weapons, supplies, and the four-wheel drive. Oddly, he knew he would hand it all over. With Chelsea to help them get access to supplies and keep them safe overnight, they weren’t at any risk. He was tired of being surrounded by death, and where once he might have fought fiercely for his possessions, nowadays he would rather walk away with the lives of his team than fight over things he could easily replace.
Thinking it would either draw out anyone who was there or prove that no one was, he ordered, “Ruth, reverse us outta here.”
Putting the four-wheel drive into reverse, she looked into her rear view mirror and gasped, “Oh shit.”
Wearing a full tactical vest and holding his heavy weapon, he struggled to twist in his seat to look behind him. Cursing, he turned to his right to look through the wing mirror on the four-wheel drive. Etched into the mirror was the usual warning, ‘Objects may appear closer than they are’. Distractedly he thought, that’s the first time that’s ever been useful. The sight in the mirror made it clear he’d misunderstood the nature of the ambush confronting them. Just fifty yards behind them were row upon row of hunters, standing densely packed and clearly waiting for their orders. Reversing out of the situation was not an option, and he was about to order Ruth to drive through the gap between the crashed vehicles, when he lost that path too.
Gunfire exploded from the cluster of vehicles. It wasn’t directed at them, but at the engine of the four-wheel drive. Ruth reacted in shock. Her foot stamped on the accelerator and the four-wheel drive jerked backward, sliding sideways into the barriers of the bridge. He found himself facing the rushing water in the river, while the tires of their vehicle spun uselessly on the road.
He reached for the automatic gearshift and slammed it into drive. “Ruth! Head towards that gap. Put your damned foot down!”
Jolted into action by his words, she spun the steering wheel towards the gap. The four-wheel drive screeched as it fought for traction in the tight turn.
While she struggled to control the vehicle, he shoved his gun through his window.
“Return fire. Goddammit!”
“At what?” Andy asked, sounding panicked.
He began to fire steadily at the crashed vehicles. “Don’t worry about that. Jus’ shoot!”
Smoke was foaming from the front of the four-wheel drive, and the vehicle was bunny hopping as Ruth tried to see through the smoke to navigate through the gap. He fired from his window, and the metal wall of the side of the truck reared into sight, scraping along his door. Pulling the nose of his M4A1 inside the window, his view was suddenly blocked by the truck, effectively creating a metal wall on both of the right side doors and windows. With smoke now bleeding freely from the engine block, he couldn’t see ahead of him. Matt, Andy and Chelsea were blocking his view through the rear windows, and the only place he could see was to his left, past Ruth, and out the driver’s side window.
The four-wheel drive abandoned its bunny hop and shuddered to a stop. Jammed between two trucks, with only one way out through the driver’s side, they were screwed. He assumed they would be dragged from the vehicle. It was daylight and the hunters behind them must be under the control of a super hunter. They either accepted they were now prisoners or they had to be prepared to die. Breathing deeply, he glanced at his team. Chelsea was a woman in her thirties, who he knew had once been a mother of two, and was now widowed and childless. Andy was just twenty, and full of noise, but with little true glory to back up his bravado. Matt was in his early forties and a sensible guy he enjoyed playing poker with. Ruth was a young, strong willed woman in her late twenties who, had he been in a better frame of mind, he might have pursued.
Feeling like he’d failed at his job by leading them into a trap, he said, “We can fight back and we’ll die, or we can let ‘em take us prisoner and wait for our people to come get us.”
All four sat looking at him, clearly waiting for him to tell them what they should do. He felt the burden of carrying their lives and the pain they would endure as prisoners. Letting themselves be taken captive by Ruler and his super hunters meant they would be delivered to the refugee camp. Although the specifics of what went on there were sketchy, he knew enough to know they would suffer badly. His foster brother, Gears, would fight. His other foster brother, TL, would negotiate. He wasn’t either of them, and he would do what it took to let his team live for another day. If they lived they might be prisoners, but he knew Gears and TL would come for them, and Ip would kill anyone or anything to save their lives.
Looking back at them grimly, he said steadily, “Live to fight another day. We surrender.”
Matt and Ruth nodded at his words, Andy looked frightened and miserable, and Chelsea stared at him impassively. Reaching his hand across to her, he said, “You need to try and get away. And do that telepathic thing. Tell ‘em what’s happened.”
Chelsea blinked, and nodding she said without emotion, “I’m not good telepathically.”
Inwardly he groaned, but he said, “Do your best.”
He was about to tell the team to get ready to leave the truck, when he felt the windshield shatter and glass sprayed like blood splattering across his body. Ducking down and shielding his face, something tugged at his tactical vest and he was dragged through the broken windshield. While his body travelled over the dashboard and across the hood of the four-wheel drive, he tried to hold onto his M4A1. At some point he lost his grip on the gun and it fell away, then he was dumped onto the bridge, while still being dragged on his back. Looking over his shoulder, a large, lean, bald hunter was firmly clutching his vest. It trudged mindlessly, dragging him towards the other end of the bridge. Completely forgetting he’d told his team to allow themselves to be taken prisoner, skidding along the road, he tried to free his handgun.
Before he could get to his gun, he was stopped by what took place in front of him. Hunters were swarming the four-wheel drive, tightly jammed into the gap. There were over thirty of them, screeching, howling and snarling, as they fought to empty the tin can of the spoils they clearly had permission to take. Ruth was pulled through the windshield, only instead of dragging her away, she was dumped onto the road. Two hunters proceeded to tear at her tactical vest and ACUs. They were slowly stripping her, gaining access to her soft body, and preparing to eat. As one hunter lifted her hand, it tore off a finger, and she howled in pain. Before that injury could be absorbed and dealt with, the other hunter ripped open the calf on her leg and blood began to pool beneath it. Tearing a piece of the firm muscle from the bone, the hunter hungrily shoved it into its mouth. Having got its share, it pulled away from her body and proceeded to chew steadily. Another hunter advanced on Ruth, flipping her near naked body over, it tore a chunk of flesh from her lean buttock.
Still slowly being dragged, he was more than twenty yards from her, and she was lying on her side facing him. Her young and beautiful face was contorted in pain, and she looked like she was in deep shock. Swallowing, he finally wrestling his gun from its holster. Aiming as carefully as he could, he unloaded his weapon directly at her, hoping that at least one of his shots took her life. If nothing else, he wanted to save her from the slow brutal death of hunters tearing her apart and eating her while she still breathed.
A hand reached down and swatted his gun away. A rough voice asked, “Well, what do we have here?” A clearly well fed, acne-scarred man was sneering dow
n at him. As they made eye contact, the man smirked.
“Hullo Pax.”
CHAPTER THREE: Heaven is a place on earth (Lydia)
She heaved herself awkwardly out of the heavily padded chair. “I haven’t seen you for months.”
Quickly stepping forward, Captain Ted offered her his hand to steady her. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I thought three was a crowd.”
Taking his offered hand, she held it firmly and stared intently into his eyes. “This baby could be yours, and it’s the end of the world, Ted. Our baby can’t have enough good people to protect him or her.”
Rubbing her round, fit-to-burst belly and feeling the baby stir at her movement, she felt like crying. She breathed deeply, trying to hold her emotions under control, but they refused to be cowed and tears leaked down her cheeks, and pooled at the base of her chin. Seeing her distress, Captain Ted shuffled awkwardly, but was shoved aside when Mom and Georgia bustled over, immediately leading her towards the large wooden and battle scarred kitchen table.
“Sit down, honey,” Mom said. Turning to a woman in the kitchen, she added, “Put the kettle on and get some of those cookies I made.”
Georgia glared at Captain Ted. “You should have come sooner! Pregnant women need to be supported, and even more now. You’re a stupid, selfish man!”
He put his hands up as if to ward off Georgia’s verbal assault. “It’s not as simple as that. Lydia is with TL now, and I didn’t want to get in the way.”
“Just how stupid are you? Lydia is stuck here at the Ranch with no one who’s been close to her since the outbreak. TL is hardly ever here. He has a job to do, but he’s here as often as he can be. You two needed to spread the load, share the support, but instead you left it to TL and Lydia’s barely seen him!”
She knew Georgia was being protective and meant well, but she was so young and altruistic she failed to see the complexity of the situation. Before the outbreak of the virus, she was a doctor, and as a General Practitioner, she tired of the endless sniffles and overwrought parents of healthy children. Eager to escape the perils of forever consoling the living, she’d almost completed her qualifications to become a forensic pathologist. Working in the quiet, cool labs, calmly dissecting, analyzing and recording the data of the dead had appealed to her. She’d never got to practice her new skills in anger until after the outbreak of the virus, and then she wished she’d never learned.
Being intelligent, genuine and well-spoken, with a determination to help those around her live, she’d pulled together a reasonable number of survivors. When TL found them, they were living in a glass mansion that was once a well-known actor’s hideaway home. They slept in the basement at night, and scavenged for supplies during the day. Despite having the devoted trust of her band of survivors, she didn’t have the military or survivalist skills to care for her people properly. It had hurt her to watch them suffer from her incompetence, and when TL and Benny showed up, she’d leapt at the opportunity to give her people a better chance of survival. It was a happy mutual need. They needed a doctor, and she needed her people to be safe and cared for.
She’d never married and barely dated most of her life. Being studious, stunning and intelligent, she’d failed to find her match. Most men were intimidated by her, either bringing her down with their jealousy or restraining her through their insecurity. Either way it never worked out for her. She was attracted to TL from the moment she met him. With a shock of dark hair and a winning smile, he was almost predictably tall and handsome. All he needed was a white horse and he was your quintessential hero. He had an odd indifference to him that appealed to her. Not threatened or possessive, he was elusive in that she’d never approached a man before and he didn’t openly pursue her. His apparent indifference left her feeling rejected. She’d let her pride rule, and when he finally asked her if she was interested in him she’d said no. Foolishly, she’d assumed that wouldn’t dissuade him and he would pursue her more aggressively. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought. We rationalize our ego and keep our real needs well hidden even from ourselves.
Looking at Ted now, she realized she only started a relationship with him on a rebound to a perceived rejection from TL. In truth she’d turned TL down and her lack of honesty cost her dearly. In the short window of time when she was seeing both TL and Captain Ted, she’d fallen pregnant and she genuinely didn’t know who the father was. Given the end of the world, there was no way to run a DNA test, and she assumed she would never know. TL assured her it didn’t matter and everyone else rallied around her offering their support. She was deeply ashamed at her own stupidity, and still struggled to accept how foolishly she had behaved.
Raised in a strict Catholic family, educated in private schools, and fully funded throughout, she hadn’t lived the way she’d been taught. Her sheltered and privileged upbringing left her ignorant and intimidated by the ways of the world. She compensated for her lack of knowledge and inability to control people by avoiding any relationships that stirred her emotionally. Before meeting TL, her closest and deepest love was for her father. Even now, as she thought of his familiar face, strength and warmth, she smiled to herself. He’d been a stern man and spoke very little, but was respected by all. They hadn’t shared their feelings for one another in loud or demonstrative ways, but in the months it took him to die of the cancer that took his life early, she’d stayed by his side and cared for his every need with a patience she didn’t know she had. His death had made her pull further into herself, and she wondered at the time if her heart would ever be touched again.
Sounding as tired and worn as she felt, she said, “Georgia, leave Ted alone.”
With her odd blue eyes almost seeming to spark, Georgia gave her a sharp look. “He deserves it.”
Walking to the table and sitting next to her, he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know TL was that busy, but I didn’t ask either. I was avoiding the whole situation.”
She was too tired to be angry with Ted. Being based at the Ranch was like being surrounded by family, and they did their best to take care of her, but she was disappointed in herself. There was nothing anyone could do to make her feel less upset, and not even TL or his brothers lessened the feeling she hadn’t lived up to her father’s expectations of her.
“Let’s talk a walk, Ted.”
Walking out of the front door of the house, she was met by the scene she saw every morning. Since Pop had lovingly rebuilt the Ranch with the help of a hundred people, it had become an oasis in a land increasingly dominated by hell. Directly in front of her, horses grazed contentedly, and to her right were three large greenhouses where they grew fresh vegetables. To her left, were more animals, including chickens, pigs, sheep and cows. Behind the main house were small trailer homes that lined a dirt road that was kept tidy. There were even a few hanging baskets of flowers, making the road look bright, cheerful and suburban. Over two hundred people now lived at the Ranch. They were a combination of the fifty or so of the Infected, combat shooters and the survivors who helped maintain the land, crops and animals.
Since they were able to kill hunters there was no need for extensive defenses, and each little trailer home always had at least one of the Infected living there. Even though the hunters never seemed to bother with the Ranch, the Infected guaranteed their homes were safe at night. When she first arrived she continued to infect more of the living with the designer virus. TL and Gears weren’t happy with her exposure to the dangerous virus while she was pregnant, but she’d ignored their concerns. Being in the late stages of her pregnancy, these days she did little other than rest. TL, Gears and Mom encouraged her to enjoy the last month of her pregnancy and to stay away from the dangerous viruses she worked with. To be fair, they’d left her feeling well protected and loved, and she was grateful to all of them.
Slipping her arm through his, she led him to walk a path she knew well. “I’m not angry with you, Ted. I’m just tired and emotional.”
“It’s okay, you’re allowed to be, an
d I’m sorry if I’ve let you down. That really bothers me.”
They’d reached the first of the glassed greenhouses. Looking at the long rows of healthy green plants, she breathed in the rich smell of earth, underpinned by the strong smell of fertilizer. They grew a variety of vegetables under these controlled conditions, it was the only way they could be sure the crops would survive. With no food supply other than what they could grow or scavenge, the only thing more important than food was water. Although they were always moist, warm and cloying, she loved her daily walks through the greenhouse. Many times she’d offered to help, but no one wanted her to be exposed to the chemicals fertilizing the crops. Walking down the long aisles, brushing past the vibrant leaves of the plants, she allowed her hand to brush over the fresh tomatoes ripening on the stalks.
Walking down the aisle towards her, a man called Daniel said, “Here, let me cut you one. You need the vitamins.”
Knowing he would ignore her protests, she watched as he deftly twisted a ripe tomato from the plant. After dipping it into a watering bucket to wash it, he handed it to her.
“Thank you, Daniel,” she said with a smile, while placing the plump tomato into her pocket. “I’ll have it with my lunch.”
She and Captain Ted left the greenhouse and walked back towards the paddocks where the horses were still grazing.
“How’s everything back at the bases?”
“Not good. We have ninety thousand mouths to feed and more people arriving daily. We can’t keep up. We don’t have enough safe bases on either the mainland or the islands, and soon we won’t have enough food either.”
Being reminded of the dangers around her was always alarming. She felt her tight belly contract, and the baby stirred at her sudden surge of adrenalin. Masking her reaction, she asked, “What’s Gears doing about it?”
“He’s not a magician, Lydia. He’s doing what he can. You know he and TL are in the UK right now.”