“Erin, can you shoot the asshole?”
“Not without hitting Haley,” she replied without letting up on her assault on the man’s head.
“Okay, get off him and let me talk to him.”
Erin slid off the man’s back and drew her pistol, aiming it at him as she retreated toward Stryker.
“Just put her down and we all go on our way.” Stryker advanced toward the man with his pistol leveled at his head. The man ducked behind Haley.
“Not going to happen.” He drew his own pistol.
“Well, okay, how do you want to do this?” “Drop the pistol, and then I give you the girl.”
“Then you go away?”
The man gave an evil grin. “Not likely.”
“What about your pistol?”
“The other woman has hers on me, so I’ll drop mine and we settle this. Winner walks away with the spoils.”
“Give me a minute to talk to her.”
The man nodded.
Stryker walked to where Erin stood. “If he gets me on the ground, kill him. Empty the mag and load another one and empty that one too.”
“Sure, but why are you worried about it?”
“Look at how big that guy is. If he gets me down, it’s all over.” Stryker handed his XD to Erin.
“I’m not worried,” Erin replied, although she was.
“I am.”
Stryker walked toward the man.
He released Haley, who ran around him and stopped next to Erin.
The man placed his pistol on the ground.
“So, how do you want to this?” Stryker stared up at the man. It was an odd experience for him; he rarely looked up at anyone.
He was an oddly shaped replica of Stryker, but larger. He had the same sloping forehead and long arms, and he had small beady eyes that seemed to burn with anger or hatred. He was broader across the shoulders and his arms were impossibly thick.
“You shoot my brother?” the man asked, his voice a rumble.
“Sure did. He was dead before he hit the floor.”
The man’s face grew dark, his lips twisted into a snarl. He briefly looked away and then back at Stryker with fury blazing in his dark brown eyes.
“Well, I’m going to fuck you up and then I’m going to fuck the women.”
“Don’t think so.”
“You think that little lady behind you has the guts to pull the trigger?” The man scoffed after he spoke.
“I know she does.”
Stryker took a step forward and launched a killer blow with his foot toward the man’s groin.
He deftly side-stepped it and laughed. “Little man, you are going to die.”
“Maybe so, but you’re coming with me,” Stryker growled.
The man closed in on Stryker, backing him away. Stryker was not ready for this kind of fight. He was not the nimble-footed boxer who could dance away, and he could not let the man get him on the ground. Stryker had never encountered an opponent this large or heavily muscled and was momentarily at a loss.
Stryker bought time by continuing to move away from the man while his mental computer whirled away, considering and discarding options, until it came to him. Take out his legs. It was the only option. Make him immobile and then take him down.
Stryker cowered away, as though afraid and the man rushed forward. He stepped back and to the side, and then delivered a vicious kick to the side of the man’s knee.
The big man came back at him, with a slight limp, and tried to land a roundhouse, but Stryker swatted the blow away and again kicked him in the same knee.
The man stumbled, but regained his balance. “You’re a dirty fighter.”
“That’s why you’re going to die, and I’m going to walk away,” Stryker replied. “Give it up.”
The man rushed at him again.
This time, Stryker met him head on, punched his head into the man’s stomach like a battering ram, and heard a gratifying whoosh of breath when he impacted. He stood and gazed down at the man who had dropped like a felled tree.
Then, he started kicking him in the face relentlessly with the heel of his boot.
The man caught one of his kicks and sent Stryker sprawling to the ground. Stryker felt his head bounce off the concrete and lay stunned for a moment. He was on one knee when the man pounced on him. He loomed over Stryker, who was now on his back, leaned over, wrapped his hands around Stryker’s neck and began to squeeze the life out of him.
“Shoot the asshole,” Stryker wheezed, his words barely audible. His world was rapidly growing dark. Out of desperation, he managed to pry the man’s forefinger away from his neck and snapped it backward. He was rewarded with a satisfying cracking sound.
The man didn’t even flinch.
Stryker grabbed his middle finger, and repeated the action.
Nothing.
He was about to black out when he heard a shot split the air. The man faltered, his grip weakening, then Stryker heard another shot, and the man’s head exploded.
He rolled to his side coughing and clutching his throat, then wiped the blood and brain matter from his face with his shirt sleeve and sat up, gasping for air and wheezing. His throat felt as though it was in a vice grip and he continued to try to force air into tortured lungs.
“Are you okay?” Erin was suddenly at his side with her XD still clutched in her hand.
“Jesus, what were you waiting for?” Stryker asked, his voice weak and hoarse.
“A clear shot.”
“Thanks for that I guess.” Stryker rubbed his throat, trying to clear his vision. He looked around once. “Where’s Haley?”
“Right here,” Haley replied from his other side.
“You good?”
“Fine.”
Stryker rubbed his eyelids with one hand and opened his eyes to see a world that was still blurred.
“Help me get him to the Humvee,” Erin said. Both women supported one arm as he stood on shaky legs, swaying back and forth like a tree in a high wind. He took one stumbling step and stopped.
“Just give me a second,” he gasped.
Erin examined his neck and throat. They were already swelling, and the man’s finger marks were clearly visible as white marks against a bruised background. He was still gasping for air. She shook her head, nodded at Haley, and they began to frog-march him back to the vehicle, each holding his arms over their shoulders as they moved.
“Jesus, this guy weighs a ton,” Haley gasped.
“Yeah, he does.”
They continued dragging him toward the Humvee, and finally got him into the back seat. He was still struggling to get enough air into his lungs and his breathing sounded tortured and uneven.
“I need to check him out,” Erin said. “Keep watch.”
“I’m on it.” Haley plucked her M-4 from the bed and held it at the low ready, her eyes scanning all around them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“You think we should wake him up?” Haley asked, glancing at the back seat, her face looking worried.
“No, let him sleep,” Erin replied from the driver’s seat. They had dropped down to Interstate 8 and were a few hours outside the San Diego city limits heading west. Stryker had been sleeping fitfully for a few hours and Erin was no longer concerned for his survival. He snored softly from the back seat and Haley rode in the front passenger side of the Humvee.
After checking him every few minutes for over an hour after the battle, Erin had realized that the swelling was not sufficient to close the trachea, and while he would be uncomfortable for some time to come, he was in no danger of dying.
“He doesn’t look good,” Haley said to Erin.
“I’ll live,” Stryker croaked without opening his eyes. “Just resting up for a bit.”
“Will you please try to sleep?” Erin glanced over her shoulder. “You need to get some rest.”
“Never lost a fight before,” he said in a wheezy voice.
“You didn’t lose that one either,” Er
in replied. “The other guy is dead and you aren’t.”
“Wasn’t my doing.”
“Doesn’t matter, a win is a win. You know that,” Erin replied. “Now, if you can’t go to sleep at least shut the hell up and let your throat heal. You have a lot of bruising and if you keep talking you’re just going to take longer to recover.” She turned to Haley. “Give him some water and be careful to not gag him by giving him too much.
“Got it.” She crawled between the seats until she sat next to Stryker, plucked a bottle from the case on the bed of the Humvee, and lifted it to his lips.
He accepted the water in slow sips, raising his hand to make her stop pouring every few seconds, and finally waved her away. “No more.”
Haley crawled back to the front seat, picked up her M-4, and pointed it out the window.
The miles rolled by for a few minutes, and then Haley said, “Every encounter we have, Stryker gets closer to dying from it. You know that, right?”
“I do.”
“So, it’s got to stop now?”
“It does. That’s why we’re going to San Diego,” Erin answered.
“I thought we’re going there to give us a better life.”
“That’s what he thinks.”
Haley looked at Erin with a confused expression. “What exactly are you saying?”
“I could have lived the rest of my life on the ranch with Stryker and never had a second thought about it. But, he was the one that couldn’t do it. He has a need for action that I don’t really understand. He can’t just let things go by and take the easy way out. I love him for it, but it also makes me crazy.”
“Well, that need is going to get him killed,” Haley replied.
“I know. That’s why we’re going to San Diego, from my perspective. If we are a part of a larger group, then he isn’t the guy who has to do everything that’s dangerous and I don’t have to worry as much about him. He thinks he’s doing it for us, but what it really is might be a way for him to get back into the fight. But at least he won’t be fighting alone.”
“Well, I don’t have a problem with it, but I do think it’s not going to solve the problem. He is going to be what he is, and trying to change him is not going to work. He will continue to be the guy who has to be at the front of the charge no matter what,” Haley said.
“I know,” Erin replied. “He has told me countless times that he was going to get better about not taking risks, but I don’t think he can control himself when he’s faced with them”
“You guys do know that I can hear you?” Stryker whispered from the back seat. “And, I appreciate your concern, but you’re analysis is all screwed up. I do what I have to do because unreasonable people give me no choice. It’s on them, not me. And Haley is right; I will not back off from doing the right thing until I die.” He fell silent and again began snoring.
Erin looked at Haley. “Did you think he was asleep?”
“Absolutely.”
“I thought he was too.”
“Uncanny,” Haley said.
“Wake him up,” Erin said to Haley as they drove past the San Diego city limits sign. “He’s going to have to tell us how to get to his old house.”
“Got it.”
Haley again crawled into the back seat and gently poked Stryker in the shoulder. “Wake up,” she whispered.
“I’m already awake.” He sat up and glanced around. His vision was still a bit blurry. They were on the eastern outskirts of the city and he peered over the front seats at the skyscrapers that marked the downtown area. He blinked his eyes several times, and then rubbed them with his fists until his vision cleared.
“We need to go north on the 505 and then take 5 North. You can follow the signs from there.” He leaned back and again closed his eyes adding, “Wake me up when you start seeing signs for Camp Pendleton.”
Okay,” Erin muttered, glancing at the rear-view mirror.
They shook him awake when they saw the entrance to the base, and he woke up in time to watch them pass through the San Onofre gate of Pendleton, and then moved into the city that was the base. Nothing had really changed. It was still huge facility, covering 125,000 square miles and containing everything you would find in a medium-sized town.
The difference was that there were no people to be seen, no pets being strolled down streets, and all that moved were tumbleweeds and trash from tipped-over bins scattered over the street. Paint was peeling off buildings, and the intersections were littered with stalled vehicles that were left in place when the plague hit. Most of the tires on the cars they passed were flat, and they looked odd, squatting down low on the concrete roads.
They passed by a green swimming pool with ducks floating on the water, and then a gym with an empty parking lot. Then, they drove by dry cleaners and fast food joints. All had broken windows and trash in the parking lots. They passed the base’s theater, where the marquee had fallen to the ground, apparently taken down by a high wind. Shards of broken glass littered the sidewalk around the sign.
Stryker wondered what the last movie that played in the theatre was titled, and then looked away.
Finally, they passed the hospital where his wife and daughter died. The hospital was one of the few new construction projects in years when he lived on the base. It was four stories tall, made of steel and glass, and was the only contemporary-looking building on the base. The remainder of the base was comprised of 1940s structures, well maintained but showing their age even more than when he lived there.
“What the hell happened here?” Haley asked, when she saw the landscape around the hospital littered with skeletons and abandoned weapons.
“They quarantined the hospital and anyone who tried to get in or out were shot by marines assigned to make sure that didn’t happen. You have to understand that it was total panic and everyone was confused.”
“That seems a bit extreme.” Haley looked away with a troubled expression.
“Well, it was. But, at the time, all anyone knew was that hell had been released on earth and it had to be stopped. People were dying so fast that they decided the only way to stop it was to make sure nobody could infect anybody else.” Stryker fell silent for a moment, thinking about his wife and child, and then the hospital passed from his view. “I think it was the worst day of my life,” he said, and then fell silent again.
When Stryker was stationed there, the base was a bustling small city in daylight. At night, it was a sleepy little backwater town, with people walking dogs and talking on street corners.
Stryker directed them to his old house, Erin parked in the driveway, and they all got out of the Humvee with weapons in hand.
“You sure you want to stay here?” Erin asked. “I know you buried your wife and daughter here, so if you want to stay somewhere else, we’re good with that.”
“No, it’s fine for now,” he replied. “I don’t want to stay here for long, but a night or two doesn’t really matter.”
They walked through the door into the small tract home, and Stryker cleared the house as they stood in the entrance. He searched the place with his usual attention to threats, but could not help but see signs of his former life all around him. Emma’s toys lay in corners; Jill’s shopping coups at Goodwill littered tables.
When he finished clearing the bedrooms, he sat on the couch and rubbed his eyes with his free hand.
Erin entered the room. “Is it too much?”
“Maybe. I didn’t think I would have such a strong reaction.”
“You want to move?”
“I don’t think so. I think I just need to cowboy up more than I have and get through it. This was another life and it isn’t mine anymore.”
“Why don’t we go look at the graves? You can pay your respects to them.”
“Okay.” Stryker stood, swayed briefly, and they walked out the patio door.
“The cross is gone,” he said as they gazed down at the single grave he dug.
“We’ll make another one.” Ha
ley rubbed his arm.
“No, I’m going to find the first one I made. It has to be here somewhere.” He swayed again, and then rubbed his head with his right hand.
Haley and Erin looked at each other. Stryker had clearly not been the same since his encounter with the man at the truck stop.
“Caleb, is something wrong?” Erin asked.
“I’m just a little groggy from hitting my head on the pavement.”
“It might be a concussion.” Erin walked over, looked into his eyes, and saw the pupils were dilated.
“Is it?” Haley asked.
“I think so. Let’s get him to bed.”
“I don’t need to go to bed. I just want to find the cross and put it back.”
“We’ll take care of that,” Erin replied. “Take his other arm, Haley. Let’s get him to bed”
“Master bedroom?” she asked.
“To the right.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Erin shook Stryker awake the following morning and examined his eyes when he sat up.
“What?”
“I’m looking at your pupils,” she replied. “They are less dilated than they were yesterday.”
“I guess that’s a good thing.” A tiny man with an axe was chopping away at his brain. The pain was excruciating and his head felt as though it were going to burst.
“Does your head hurt?” Erin asked.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Stryker winced. He lay back down and felt the throbbing subside, but the little man was still swinging away.
“Stay in bed for a while. I’ll get you a cup of coffee. Don’t get up until I get back.”
Stryker didn’t answer and watched her as she left the bedroom, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and attempted to stand up. A wave of nausea struck him. He thumped back down on his butt and swung his legs back into the bed.
“This really sucks,” he muttered, grimacing as the pain returned to his head. He lay down again.
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