Pedal to the Metal (Riders of the Apocalypse Book 4)

by Alex Westmore

  Fletcher raised his voice above a whisper. “What if they want to come with us?”

  Roper shook her head. “We don’t have any more room.”

  “Right. This is a straight up prisoner release program, guys. We let them go out the back and, barring any complications, we meet at the area where the vehicles are kept. We need to decommission as many of their wheels as possible before they sound the alarm.”

  Roper looked at Fletcher. “I’ll take the first group out. I want you stationed behind those trees to take out anyone pursuing.”

  He nodded. “Gotcha.”

  Roper grabbed Fletcher by the wrist before he left. “Listen, I appreciate you guys doing this...but I don’t want to lose anyone in the process. When in doubt––”

  “Get the fuck out,” they chorused.

  She smiled. “Absolutely. Good luck.”

  Roper watched as they separated and made their way to their stations. Then she took out the guard watching the back door with a kidney punch which brought him to his knees. She tore the helmet off and cracked him over the head with a short wooden bat.

  “Sorry, man, but this is our home.”

  As shitty as it was, as much as they’d managed to fuck it up, it was still her country, her home, her gays and lesbians.

  If only Dallas could understand why they had to do this.

  She was going to be furious.

  In over a year, Roper had gone against Dallas’s orders only once, and the dirty dog she’d put down had deserved the consequence she’d delivered without Dallas’s consent.

  But the truth was, as much as Dallas was her lover and her partner, when push came to shove, they each had to remain true to their core values. For Roper, that meant helping out fellow Americans whether or not they would return the favor. For Dallas, it meant taking care of their people above and beyond all others.

  It was one of the things Roper loved most about her, but this time, their core values were mutually exclusive and she had to stay true to herself and her beliefs.

  Gay or straight, they were Americans, and they were under attack. It didn’t matter to her if it was Ellen or Bubba who was prisoner. She couldn’t just walk away shouting, “Good luck to you” over her shoulder.

  It bothered her that Dallas could.

  Adjusting her helmet, she listened for her name, Fan. She’d hoped for a longer name with more syllables––easier to discern through the rapid fire of the rapidly spoken Japanese.

  Hopefully, they’d be in and out before the requisite check-in.

  Suddenly, the back door of the barracks burst open, with a helmet-less Einstein leading the way. “Go! Go! Go!”

  Grabbing the bolt cutters they’d kept in the Fuchs, Roper chucked off her helmet, clipped open the fence, and kicked it open.

  “You three, go that way. You four, that way. You three, straight ahead. Do not, and I mean this, do not group back together.”

  “But my mom––”

  “No time, kid. Get moving!”

  The prisoners kept coming. There were at least two hundred people flooding from the building. All were barefoot, scared, and confused.

  All were Americans.

  Einstein came around to Roper just as what sounded like a sound-off of guard posts started playing in their helmets. “Shit. Hurry––they’re taking roll call.”

  It seemed like it was taking forever to get everyone through the hole. Roper hadn’t expected there to be so many.

  “Einstein?”

  He looked at the long line of people yet to get to freedom. “Not enough time.” They’d called Fan three times.

  Roper picked the helmet up and repeated her rehearsed line. It was received with a string of Japanese she didn’t know, so she made vomiting sounds.

  “Well done,” Einstein said.

  She shook her head. “Won’t be enough. You get out of here. Fletcher and I will follow up.”

  Einstein stared at her. “You want me to get Dallas?”

  Roper didn’t hesitate. “No. Lead the rest out of here toward the west. Scatter them. We’ll come get you at the four corners. Up where that tree split by lightning sits.”

  Einstein nodded. “Be sure you do. Don’t leave me hanging, Rope.”

  “Never, kid,” To Fletcher, she said, “Flaming arrows?”

  He nodded. “Way ahead of you.”

  “Go for the vehicles. Disable as many as you can, and I’m sure I don’t have to say it. Don’t. Get. Caught.”

  He saluted and grinned. “Not today.”

  Watching him hustle away still wearing his helmet, Roper got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Was it really this easy setting these people free or had she missed something?

  Something didn’t feel right.

  “Move it, people!”

  A young woman stopped just outside the hole. “Who the hell are you?”

  Roper barely managed a grin. “Just another American.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.” The young woman took off and joined a group of four heading into the hills into the darkness.

  Shots suddenly rang out.

  “Hurry!” Roper said, looking up to see the crowd in the back of the line being mowed down by half a dozen hazmatters. Swinging her rifle around, she drew her sight and picked off two of them before the other four dove for cover.

  “Come on, motherfuckers, show yourself,” she muttered, waiting to see the white of their suits through the din.

  When the third poked his head around a corner, Roper sent a bullet careening off the side of his helmet. “Pick it up, peo––”

  A loud explosion cut her off.

  Two, three, four more blasts ensued, and when the last prisoner came through the fence, Roper shouted for everyone to separate and keep running. “Do not stop moving!”

  Roper started running even as more cars exploded.

  “Stop or you will die!”

  She skidded to a halt and slowly turned, raising her hands in surrender.

  Six Asians trained their weapons on her.

  As she walked back toward them, hands in the air, she muttered to herself, “Dallas is gonna be so pissed off.”

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Sounded like an explosion,” Omar said as he pulled the Jeep up to the Hummer. “How is Luke?” he asked into the other car as he rolled the window down.

  “He goes in and out. His stump doesn’t look so good,” Richard said, making a face. “He looks like death on a cracker, as my mom woulda said.”

  Another explosion. Then another.

  Butcher leaned over to check Luke’s pulse. He was pale and sweaty but still breathing…still alive.

  Another, louder explosion.

  Hunter locked eyes with Omar and grinned. “Sounds like Dallas’s calling card.”

  “Ya think?”

  “I do,” Butcher said. “I’ll take the Hummer. You yahoos take the Jeep. It’s loaded. Whatever is happening out there is probably happening to or because of our people.”

  When the Hummer took off, Omar turned to Hunter. “Can you man that thing?” He asked, motioning to the machine gun turret on the back of the Jeep.

  “Absolutely. I’m not just a pretty face.” Hunter got in and strapped himself into the turret. “Go for it.”

  Swinging the Jeep around, Omar caught a glimpse of Butcher’s headlights just before she went dark. He went off roading, bumping along, but as they caught up to the Hummer, they nearly rear-ended it when it skidded to a stop. A young woman was talking to Butcher through the half open window.

  “What the fuck?” Omar muttered, slamming on the brakes and skidding to a halt a foot short of the Hummer’s rear bumper. “Jesus, Butcher,” he muttered. Before he could get out of the Jeep, he realized she had stopped for a group of people.

  In the dark?

  Omar was out of the Jeep with his bow drawn as Hunter swung the large caliber gun around toward the group.

  “It’s okay,” Butcher said from the window. �
�They’re just people.”

  Omar lowered her crossbow slightly. “Just people? What the fuck does that mean?”

  A young woman kept her eyes on the crossbow while continuing with her story. “So this woman...” She shook her head. “Like a super hero or something, cut an opening in the fence and hurried us all out.”

  “How was her hair?”

  The woman looked at her.

  “Long or short?”

  “Short. Her hair was short, but she was tall and super intense.”

  “Roper,” Omar and Hunter said simultaneously.

  “She and a young boy were amazing. Made us run in different dir––”

  “Where did you see her last?”

  The woman turned around and pointed. “Over on that side of the compound. Are you with them? Do you know her?”

  “And the explosions?”

  “Opposite side of the base, where the cars are. You know, you kinda look like her.”

  “What did she tell you to do?”

  “Separate and then run until we couldn’t stop.”

  “She was spot on. Keep running. Don’t stop and don’t gather together. Good luck.”

  “Wait. Who are you people?”

  Butcher was already moving toward the last place Roper had been seen, so Omar answered.

  “We’re the good guys.”

  Roper kept her hands raised, and her eyes looked for a way out.

  “Who are you people?” one of the uniformed Asians asked, raising his face mask to display a pock-marked face and black rimmed glasses.

  “Americans. Gay survivors of this stupid virus.”

  “We know that. Are you their leader?”

  “Who are you talking about?” Roper’s eyes never stopped scanning the darkness for signs of Einstein or Fletcher.

  One of the Asians stepped closer. “Who are they to you? How many more of you are out there? Why did you save these people?”

  Roper shrugged. “Uh...because they are Americans? Jesus Christ, how you people kick our academic asses is beyond me. Do you have any questions that aren’t so obvious?”

  Again, the group chatted among themselves.

  Their apparent leader considered her a moment. “Okay. We’re going to lock you up and let our leader ask you not so obvious questions. Turn around and start walking.”

  “Well now, you see, that’s not going to happen. You’re in our country, in my house, and I am in no mood to be imprisoned by a bunch of invaders in really bad Evil Knievel knock offs. So excuse me when I politely decline and tell you all to go fuck yourselves.”

  The Asians chattered to themselves.

  “Oh my God, you assholes are going to bore me to death.”

  They jibber jabbered a little more before the leader stepped closer. “Who is this Evil Knievel person?”

  Roper forced a laughed. “Look, I’ve been held prisoner once before and a lot of people died once I was free. It’s really in your best interest to let me go. Now, I am walking out of here. You can shoot me in the back if that’s what you need to do, but I’m nobody’s prisoner. Not now. Not ever again.”

  As Roper spun around, she felt the air move near her face.

  THWUP.

  THWUP.

  THWUP.

  Three bolts, three down.

  Roper pulled her boot knife out and slit the throat of the leader who was too stunned to do anything other than die where he stood. “About fucking time!” she called out.

  One of the two remaining guards shot in the direction of the arrows before a bolt went through the sentry’s chest.

  The last standing guard took off toward camp and Roper tackled him hard to the ground, punching him in the solar plexus, but to no avail. Her fists were no match against the suit, so she raised the bloody knife over her head.

  Suddenly, several vehicles that had escaped Fletcher’s conflagration lit up the entire area.

  The hazmatter on the ground rolled over, opened her mask, and smiled up at Roper. “Game over for you, American bitch.”

  Roper’s fist reached the guard’s mouth and cracked both her lips. “Take that, motherfucker.”

  Someone behind her ordered, “Get on your knees. Hands behind your head or you will die where you stand.”

  Looking up from the woman, Roper blew out a breath. There were too many for Fletcher, and half of the sentries stayed safely in the vehicles, so she did as she was told.

  Dallas was going to kill her.

  “Tell your shooter one more arrow and you’re dead.”

  “He’s probably too far away to hear.”

  There was a pause as they communicated among themselves.

  Before the leader could reply, a bolt landed right in front of Roper with a little flag trailing it. As the flag blew open, there was one word on it.

  Duck.

  Roper dove to her right, covering her head as the rat-tat-tat of a machine gun sounded behind her. Looking up from her place on the ground, she could only see the headlights of a Jeep. It was mowing down all of her would-be captors, tearing into all the vehicles but one, which was chugging slowly away. The other cars were being shot into Swiss cheese, and one even took a hit to the gas tank and blew sky high.

  When the shooting stopped, Roper rose up, ears ringing, and watched a shadowy figure run toward her. Bringing her knife up to defend herself, it took her a moment to figure out who it was.

  “Gonna lay there all fucking night?”

  “Omar?”

  A hand shot out and grabbed Roper’s wrist, pulling her to her feet. “In the flesh, baby,” he replied, running back to the Jeep as she trailed after him. “Get in. They’ll be coming.”

  Roper leapt into the Jeep and flashed a thank you grin to Hunter along the way. “God damn, is it good to see you guys. Is Butcher with you? Are they okay? Please tell me the baby is fine.”

  “They’re…fine. They’re picking Fletcher up.”

  Hunter leaned down into the cab. “How is Z? Is she okay? She’s still on the mend, right?”

  Omar looked at Roper. “She’s all he’s thought about since we left Angola. It’s been ‘Zoe this’ and ‘Z’ that. If he wasn’t so gay I’d think he had a thing for her.”

  Roper barely smiled. “And you sound like a jealous queen.”

  Omar scoffed. “Do not! I just don’t believe worrying solves a damn thing.”

  “She’s fine, Hunter,” Roper offered. “She’s with everyone on the bus. She needed to stay still after we got out of the military camp, so we parked them in the safest place we could and pressed on to the meeting place.” She looked at Omar and asked the question she was dreading to ask. “You’re all okay? You all made it?”

  “Yeah…well, sort of. We’ll fill you in later.”

  Roper did not like the sound of that.

  She gave them directions from the split tree, where they picked Einstein up before heading to camp up in the hills. Omar floored it when they left the tree, kicking up dust and rocks.

  “Omar? What’s wrong?” Roper asked, looking around to see what spooked him.

  Omar caught up with the Hummer waiting just outside the camp perimeter and together, with Roper’s directions, they headed toward camp.

  “Omar? Say something. Is it Luke? Is Luke okay?”

  When the Jeep came to a rest at the camp, he turned to Roper. “To be honest, we’re not really sure.”

  “Well, I for one can’t wait to get my arms around Butcher. She’s fine, right? She and the baby made it out of Angola in one piece?”

  “Yeah. She’s fine. Egypt has been quiet and cute.”

  “But?”

  Omar shook his head. “But we had an issue we’ll tell you about when we get to camp.”

  When everyone but Luke was out of their vehicles and had finished hugging, Dallas folded her arms across her chest and glared at Roper. “I so want to kick your ass right now. What the hell was that about? Have you lost your mind?”Roper threw her shoulders back. “People needed our help.
We helped.” She shrugged. “I know it was risky, but that was a chance we were willing to take. I won’t become one of those people who just puts her fuck-it boots on and walks away. I’m sorry, love, it’s just not in my nature.”

  Dallas pulled her frozen gaze from Roper and looked at Butcher, her face softening. “You made it. I knew you would. Damn good to see you again, Sunshine. How’s the baby? Where’s Luke?”

  “In the Hummer. We…we had to restrain him.” Butcher told her about the attack and about Luke’s wound, and her… unorthodox treatment method of cutting his arm off. “It’s kind of hard to look at, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You. Cut. Off. His. Arm?”

  Einstein ran to the Hummer and ripped open the door. “Luke?” He turned back to Dallas. “He’s still tied up and unconscious. Luke? Luke, it’s me! Einstein.”

  “Didn’t want to tie him up,” Butcher groused. “But calmer heads prevailed. It was a protocol thing.”

  Dallas hurried over to the Hummer, switched on the interior light, and looked down at him. “Shit. He looks like crap. Einstein?”

  Einstein checked his pulse and studied his face. “He’s alive. To be honest, Dallas, he could stay human or turn at any moment. It’s really hard to say until he wakes up.”

  “He wakes up off and on,” Butcher explained.

  Dallas nodded and returned her attention to Einstein. “What are your thoughts about her cutting his arm off?”

  “In zombie lore, the idea is if you get the offending limb off before the virus can travel up the bloodstream, you might save his life…but that’s just lore. They did it on Walking Dead to save Herschel and it worked, but that’s television, you know? I don’t have a clue about real life.”

  She nodded and looked at his stump. “This doesn’t look so good. We’ll keep him tied up for the time being. Sorry, Butcher.” She nodded to the young girl and boy standing off to the side. The little girl was holding Egypt. “Wow. I didn’t know a kid could grow that fast.”

  Gazing down at Egypt, Dallas kissed her forehead. “You’re so big.”

  “Isn’t she, though?”

  Einstein closed the door and asked Violet for the baby. Begrudgingly, Violet gave her up.