The Rabid Mind Two

by Bruce Buckshot Hemming

  “Calm down son, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I told you, I’m not your son you ungrateful old man.”

  “Ungrateful? What do you mean? You can’t think we did all this?” Debbie said in a hushed voice.

  “Go to hell lady, and cut the crap. Those are your men out there, aren’t they?”

  “We don’t know those men from Adam, boy. We told you, we came here looking for her kids. That’s all. We’re every bit as surprised as you are by all this. I promise you, we are not in cahoots with those men. Tell me, if I were, would I not have taken your ass to join the rest of the captives by now?”

  “…Now, what say we get outta here and come up with a plan that sets OUR friends free of those guys, tonight?” He said, getting up. He reached out, and Marcus took his hand and he helped the young man up.

  “You were headed for the farm shed?” The young man asked after slinging his rifle over his shoulder.”

  “Yeah, figured we’d go there and get our plans straight before launching any kind of rescue.” Jim replied. “Our chances of success were slim before, but with you in the mix, they’re much better chance. I mean, you know this forest as well as anybody, so come with us.”

  Marcus thought for a while, he could either go in solo, or throw in with these two. He looked at Jim, and nodded. Then the three of them stepped outside the gate and shut it behind them.

  The farm shed was a well-built small one, Marcus said. “Alright, how do we save our friends?”

  ***

  Jet and Matt sat down to rest, they’d been at it all day. Jet had offered to help Matt finish cutting wood for the fence post. They had gotten down to work, cutting the wood to appropriate sizes for the posts. Matt had cut some wood already, so with the extra help, they were soon done with the cutting, and worked feverishly putting the posts in the previously dug holes on the west side of the house. Now as they rested, the smell of lunch wafted out to their nostrils, the girls were making beef stew and potatoes, Jet turned to Matt.

  “Thanks for having us, it’s not an easy thing to open your door to strangers these days. No one really knows who’s who anymore. I really appreciate it.”

  “It’s nothing, these doors were once opened for me too, by Sandra and her father. Well, not these doors exactly, the ones at our former place, but you get what I mean. I couldn’t very well just leave you guys to become loco chow, and you’d just lost your friend, and doing this work on my own, may have killed me faster than the loco.”

  They laughed.

  “Loco though, how’d you guys come up with that?” Jet asked still laughing.

  “Well, they are loco aren’t they? Those things? I mean, their marble collection isn’t exactly complete if you know what I’m saying.”

  “Understatement of the millennium.” Jet said with a smile, it felt good to laugh, the work and small talk had temporarily taken his mind off of Sam. He welcomed the distraction with open arms. Distraction was all he craved really, and so, he knew, did Claire. The night they’d arrived, he and Claire had sought distraction from each other, the sex had been frenzied and full of passion. Seeking solace in one another, giving it their all for as long as they could, and as they’d lay spent in the afterglow, each lost in thought. They both could agree on one thing; they had to go on living for Sam. It’s what he would have wanted. He was roped out of his thoughts by Matt’s voice.

  “Sorry what? I got a little lost in thought just now, my bad. What did you say?”

  “I understand, I asked where you guys were headed before you ran out of fuel, and I met you.”

  “Oh, nowhere really. Since this thing started we’ve just been travelling from place to place, never really setting deep roots anywhere, trying see the extent of damage the virus did to America as a whole you know? We didn’t have a definite destination. We’d arrive at a town that looked relatively free of infected, and we’d stay there a while. You know until either lack of supplies, or increased number of migrated crazies caused us to leave. That’s how it’s been for us. We’ve always been on the road. Sam just wanted us to find a place where we’d be safe you know, like really safe, that’s all we really ever wanted.” An awkward silence followed as the pain of remembrance broke past the camaraderie, but Jet snapped out of it.

  “So, you and Sandra seem happy?”

  “Ha-ha, we are man, we are. Although she’d not been herself for the four days her father’s been gone, she just can’t seem to shake off her worry. I wish there was something I could do, you know, reassure her a little bit.”

  “I know what you mean. Where’d you say her father went again, with the woman, Debbie?”

  “They went off to Meeker, to search for Debbie’s kids. This will be their third venture out to find those kids, they keep hitting setbacks and just missing ‘em ? Now they’ve followed a lead, that’s taken ‘em to Meeker to find some ranch called, the Double K, where the kids and the guy they’re with are hopefully holed up.”

  “Wow. Three times, damn. Hope they get back okay.” Jet said “Don’t worry about Sandra, she’s a woman, worrying is what they do. My Claire’s a typical worry wuss herself. She’ll come around. They always do.” Just then Claire stepped out to announce that lunch was ready, and in spite of himself, Matt caught himself staring.

  She really was a sight to behold. She cleaned up good. She was dressed in a button down, long sleeved shirt, and skinny jeans. Three buttons were left open, not because she didn’t want to close them, but because she couldn’t. Her breasts were huge, DD’s and contrasted with her trim, fit figure, as one would imagine, her twin mounds were usually the cause of wolf whistles from men, and sometimes even women.

  Claire Gloria Banner had been a small baby at birth, a mere three and half pounds. At the time it had been a cause of worry for her parents as her brothers before her had weighed a whopping six and half pounds. She’d also been a small child, albeit very pretty, her long blonde hair had been the cause of many a sigh of envy from other kids and even some adults. Growing up with boys toughened her up some, and that was a lucky break for her, because she started developing breasts at the early age of 12, and was victim of naughty pranks played by children at school. Boys would poke it and run away, but she already had experience dealing with boys, so she took their pranks and taunts with a steady face. Why couldn’t she be normal like other girls?? She would think. Her angst towards the breasts stopped though, freshman year of high school. While her classmates struggled with push-up bras and stuffing to make they’re a-cup, b-cup seem larger, she had it easy, and was the envy of her class, and to an extent, the school girls in general. That, coupled with her blonde hair, petit, flat stomach and beautiful face made her instantly popular, and she went with it. This was when she’d begun to love her breasts.

  She made sure to dress according to her size though and was never one for over the top cleavage, “That’s for the smaller girls calling for attention.”

  Freshman year of college, she’d met Jet, He’d been in his second year. For some reason, she noticed, he never once looked down at her breasts all the while he talked to her. The same couldn’t be said for Sam, who’d glued his eyes to them while Jet had made introductions. Years of having boys ogle her breasts made it so her senses were heightened when it came to noticing a guy taking a ‘quick peek’ at her bosoms, and Jet’s apparent nonchalance towards them. This had thrown her off her game a little and perhaps intrigued her a little as well. They’d hit it off though, and for a while even, had been the talk of campus, as the most in-love couple on campus.

  Then the virus tragedy had struck.

  She’d been holed up on campus with the rest, unable to leave or even reach her parents and siblings back at home. When she’d eventually been able to go home she’d arrived to meet the house in a state of chaos. Her father and brothers had been at the airport where the outbreak began, and the rats had bitten them. The man
had passed it on to his wife that night during their ‘welcome back’ love making session. She’d gotten home to find them already past the third day of the infection, and ravenous. She’d been saved by a neighbor who’d spotted her entering the place. She’d been in a daze the entire journey back to the neighbor’s hiding place, and the journey to go meet Sam and Jet who she’d called immediately, as well. Unable to reconcile the fact that her parents and brothers were now mindless monsters, who would kill her without a moment’s notice and without remorse, her grief had thickened when she’d heard Jet and Sam’s tale about the death of their parents.

  Nowadays, the breasts only brought negative attention as girls like her were in short demand, and were constantly being kidnapped and turned to sex slaves for a bunch of sex starved raiders, against their will. She’d avoided two of such kidnap tempts and owed it to the bravery of Jet and the sheer cunning of Sam. Such was the world they lived in now, and she’d come to terms with it.

  As she told the boys to come in for lunch now, she quick peek radar zoned in on him staring at her, she chuckled a bit, boys will be boys she thought, he’s kinda cute though, then Jet got to her and pecked her.

  “You’re so sweaty.” She said feigning disgust.

  “Oh, for real? You mean after working in the sun for hours? I am as surprised as you are!!” He replied sarcastically, she laughed and kissed him.

  “Get a room, you two.” Matt said passing them. “Sandra! Jet and Claire are trying to show us up.” They all laughed and went in to eat.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Death to the Invaders.

  Amos Keane was very proud of his ‘achievement’. He’d always seen himself as something of a visionary. An out of the box thinker of sorts. Though he had just always been a snake. As he took a large bite of meat from his dinner in the mess hall, he reminisced on how far he’d come.

  Born to Laura and Tobias Keane, he’d started showing signs of antisocial behavior from a very early age, and would often be reprimanded in school, for pulling pranks, that ranged from innocent to very inappropriate. Detention was a regular venue for him, and much to the chagrin of his teachers, he never seemed to mind, taking his punishment with a certain calm and content smile like he assumed it as reward rather than punishment. Some would trace his penchant for bad behavior to his home environment. His father, Tobias, had once been a loving husband, but then, he’d lost his job, and then everything had gone to shit. Tobias hit the bottle, and hit it hard. Laura had been pregnant with Amos then and would often get calls from bartenders telling her to come take her husband from the bar, as he’d either passed out, or was causing a scene and being a general nuisance. This was a favor they extended to her, because of her condition, as they could have very well just called the police and he would have been jailed for disorderly conduct. So Amos had been born to a home in shambles, and had taken after his father perfectly. Days and days and nights of watching his father beat on his mother, hating the man for everything he stood for and watching her refuse help from outsiders saying it was a ‘family matter’ or make excuses for her injuries. This had a huge effect on the young boy. This had taught him how the world works. Fear made people respect you, and fear equaled power. That had been his philosophy growing up. He hated his father, but found himself more and more like the man with each passing day. He’d learned to use fear to control people, and loved the power it brought to him. The only thing he loved more than causing fear, was his mother, Laura Keane, and that love, is what had driven him, on that fateful night, to rid her of the one person that had been the bane of her existence. His father.

  So, 16-year-old Amos Keane had been tried and convicted for the premeditated murder of his father, but as a minor, he’d been given ten years. His mother had tried to take the blame, but forensic evidence proved only Amos was to blame. Once he reached eighteen years old he was transferred to a Supermax prison to serve out the rest of his sentence. Ever the cunning creature, he’d been let out early for ‘good behavior’. The prison system had taught him how the world works even more. How to be cunning, smart and one step ahead of the law. Upon his exit from prison, he’d discovered his mother’s death from substance abuse.

  Getting a job when he’d been let out, as can be imagined had not been very easy, and he’d soon had to settle for being a bartender at a very run down bar, watching men who reminded him of his father, walk in, and crawl out of the bar all day long. Their state of decadence, fuelling his anger, and inspiring extreme disgust. His feelings of animosity towards them was left unchecked though, but one thing was constant; he always felt he was meant for greater things.

  Then the virus had hit. He remembered watching it from his place behind the bar, and thinking, this is it. My time to shine. I can carve something out of this chaos. There’s more than enough fear to go around, and that is the one thing I’m good at. Yes. This is it. What I’ve been waiting for in this fucked up world.

  Before long, he’d acquired a small posse and he raided stores and homes collecting supplies and piling it up. Moving from place to place, until they’d set up camp. He wasn’t one to rely on cheap tricks to infiltrate homes, he usually just used sheer brute force.

  The General had been on his radar for a while now. He remembered burning his house. His setup back then with his family had been mundane compared to what he had now and Amos had achieved. The General had foiled one of his earlier raids, if only he’d minded his own business, his family would still be alive. Perhaps.

  Amos had followed them back to their house, and staked it out until he felt it was the right time to strike. The General left one day and it was time to strike. He’d gone in with his remaining men, and after taking everything and killing everyone, they’d burned the house down. When the General returned, his home was burned to the ground.

  He was going to relish the look that’d be on the General’s face when he finally told him who exactly he was. Then, he would kill everyone here, right in front of him, before finally killing him. Then, and only then, would his vengeance be complete. He finished his food and retired to the first cabin after checking the guard at the prison, and the main gate. With one look at his backup plan in the corner, he lay down to rest. Tomorrow would be a great, fun day, and he wanted to be fully rested to enjoy the pleasures it would bring.

  ***

  The plan was simple.

  In the way of weapons, they only had Marcus’s rifle and machete, and Jim and Debbie’s guns, but they were going to have to make do. Jim had five rounds and Debbie had three rounds left. Jim said false sense security, we should have retrieved the CRV and restocked. They really were going to have to make do.

  “So, we want to be as quiet as possible, okay?” Jim started “They cannot know we’re staging a rescue, until it’s too late to stop us. Now, from what Marcus saw from the trees, there were seven of them, all heavily armed. We need to take back the armory first, I assume they have a man guarding the door, we’re gonna have to take him out first.”

  “You mean, kill him?” Debbie asked, sounding uncertain.

  “Yes Deb.” Jim replied grimly, and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s going to be hard, but Marcus and I are going to take care of that part as much as we can. You get the opportunity though, you take it. It’s them or us, and I’d be darned if I don’t pick us over them you hear me? You can do this, you’re a strong woman. Think of them as slightly more intelligent Loco. With guns.” He concluded with a smile, and she returned it, although a bit uncertainly

  “So, we take the armory, and locate where they’re keeping the prisoners, once we release and arm the prisoners, then the rest is easy, from there we should be all good?” Jim concluded looking round for confirmation, they both nodded.

  “Ok Deb, don’t shoot unless you have to. Marcus and I will take them out with knives to the throat so they can’t scream for help.”

  Once in, they crawled towards the armo
ry, Marcus stepped in front, keeping his head down and put his back to the side of the building and moved along the wall towards where the guard stood at the door. His hands were sweaty and he gripped the machete tighter. Using a low crawl, he worked his way to the front of the building. A quick peek told him the guard was leaning again the door staring at the front gate. At the front gate was a single guard. Looking out the front. For the plan to work this first strike must go perfect with no warning to the others. He started breathing faster. Pushing his back against the building he closed his eyes to calm down get his head on right. Stop thinking about the…. but what if we get caught. The guard at the front gate was too far for Jim’s 12 gauge. He crept back and whispered.

  “Jim take my rifle. I want you to cover me. There is a guard at the front gate. You draw a bead on him and if anything goes wrong, take him out first.”

  Handing Deb the 12 gauge he whispered to her. Anyone comes around the back side, kill ‘em.” She nodded in understanding. Taking the Ar-15 he flipped off the safety. Quiet as mice they crept forward. He stayed on the outside ready to shoot. When they reach the edge, Jim stayed in the shadows drawing a bead on the gate guard and looked at Marcus, giving him the nod to go ahead.

  Marcus staying low, silent as ever, stepped on the porch. The Guard saw the movement and turned to face him but it was too late Marcus was in kill mode and stood up with an undercut buried the machete in this throat to his skull. He collapsed on top of him, Blood pouring out he felt it soaking through his clothes. Marcus dragged him off the porch pulling him into the alley out of sight. Laying him down in the dark shadows of the alley. They removed his Ak-47 and his combat vest with three extra magazines. Checking his pockets, but no luck finding the keys to the armory. No doubt the leader had them.