by Jordan Ervin
Alexandra jumped from the log and began to shout for him, only to have something strike her in the chest, causing her body to seize up as electricity pulsed through her body. She fell to the ground, and after what felt like an eternity of convulsions, the shock ceased just as a firm hand gripped her mouth from behind and cut her shout short.
Her eyes went wide with panic as she immediately reached up and grasped a thick, hairy arm. She was vaguely aware of the shapes of men bursting into the clearing—Eva’s scream cutting off mid-breath while Elizabeth shook as the Taser shocked her awake from her slumber.
She tried to force a man’s fingers from her mouth, but she might as well have been attempting to pry up tree roots with her bare hands. As panic began to overwhelm her, she breathed in through her nose as deeply as she could before biting down hard on the man’s fingers.
The man let loose a cry and let go. She fell to the ground with a plop—surprised as she hadn’t even realized he had picked her up from the ground—and the wind left her lungs in a rush. She tried to scream, but couldn’t. As she gasped for air, the metallic taste of his blood on her tongue, she looked up at him and elbowed him between the legs as hard as she could, causing him to fall to the ground with a cry.
Alexandra scrambled across the ground—her breath slowly returning as she kicked up leaves around her with her hands, searching for the belt Sarah had set down nearby. She found it, ripping it free from next to the log, and quickly drew the gun, raising it just in time to watch a man raise a silenced pistol to Sarah’s head.
“Drop it, girl, or I drop her,” the man growled.
“Let us go or I’ll shoot!” Alexandra shouted with as much courage as she could muster.
The man laughed, shaking his head as Sarah’s eyes went wide.
“You think that’s wise?” the voice of a man from behind her said. She glanced behind her, her eyes quickly finding the shape of a grown man no younger than forty materialize from the darkness. “You think you could drop all eight of us before we killed you?”
“I could kill him,” she said.
“No, you can’t,” the man said, bending down next to Eric’s body that still shook with electricity. Low flames rose from his sleeve and back. The man bent down, taking out a cigar and lighting it on the fire that licked Eric’s thick jacket. “Not without your friend here.” The man stood up and smiled as he fired his suppressed pistol twice into Eric’s back.
Alexandra opened her mouth to scream. Instead, she grunted as something struck the back of her head, causing her to fall forward with a gasp. Her face burrowed into a tiny pile of dry leaves that had survived the cold months—the scents of autumn, winter, and blood filling her nostrils. She was vaguely aware of boots approaching and Sarah’s muffled shouts. Hands grabbed her by the arm and rolled her over onto her back, her head swimming in a sea of fog and pain as she reached up to touch her temple. The man who had shot Eric lowered himself to her, his smile wickedly pleased as he glanced at her upside down.
“Now fellas, let’s not mar the merchandise,” he said with a grin that would please the devil. “Ladies, my name is Hank and I am going to need you to keep quiet while we gag you. I’d hate for you to wake the dead before we even get on the road. And I have to say that you don’t want to know what happens to those who scream.” He holstered his suppressed side arm and whistled as he bent down and picked up the gun Alexandra had held, turning it over to survey it in the dim light before looking down at Alexandra. “My, my. Ain’t this quite the prize? Forty-five, non-Chambers, full magazine. Quite the rare find. I must say it’s both beautiful and deadly, just like you, my little darling.”
Sarah wept as the man behind Sarah reached down and grabbed a red cloth from his belt, tying off her gag. Alexandra glanced over across the ground at Eva and Grace who also sobbed as they were gagged and bound. Elizabeth had stopped convulsing, the Taser being pulled away from her skin. A man reached down and gagged her too.
“What do you want me to do with the old hag?” the man who had gagged Elizabeth asked. “You think we should bring her?”
“I don’t know boys, what do you think? Any of you into older women?”
They all laughed, armed cowards who thought they were strong because they could overpower helpless women.
“Bind her hands and leave her,” Hank said. “I don’t want anyone coming after us.”
“Why don’t I just stick her and be done with it?” one of the men asked.
“Now come on, we’re in the business of loving women, not killing them. Tie her up and let’s get going.”
“Won’t she die if we leave her tied up and alone?” one of the men asked.
“Oh, I can’t help it if the road kills the weak,” Hank replied. “But I don’t want to watch her die. I’d hate to have something like that harassing my conscience.” Hank laughed and shook his head as he whistled. “Now get moving. We’ve got a good half mile hike back to the truck and Memphis will be waking soon. I’d like to have our new arrivals primed for this evening’s show room.”
Alexandra began to cry, her body shaking as she realized what these sick and twisted men had planned for them. She rolled over, opening her eyes and glancing southward in the direction Judah and Trey had gone. She prayed for Judah to return, envisioning him materializing through the brush—gun raised as he saved the day. She promised to herself that she would never avoid his eyes again if he saved her. She’d tell him she loved him. She would crawl into his arms and never let go.
But Judah didn’t come.
He was a mile away and unaware that anything had gone wrong. Alexandra realized he would come back to Eric’s lifeless body, a helpless Elizabeth, and an empty camp with no hope. Judah—the young man she had ignored in her pride and ignorance—couldn’t even know something was going wrong.
Unless….
As Hank reached down for her, Sarah’s pistol in his right hand and bondage in his left, she lashed out, digging her fingernails into his cheek. As he cursed, she reached for the gun he held, wrapping both her hands around his, forcing her index finger into the trigger housing, and pulling the trigger three times, firing into the ground.
Hank ripped the firearm free and backhanded her across the cheek. She fell back to the ground, stars dancing across her vision. As her sight returned, he knelt down, touching the four claw marks that lined his right cheek.
“What a dumb bitch,” Hank growled as he lowered his hand from his cheek and wrapped it around her throat. “I’m going to see to it that you regret that.”
“Shitty piece of worthless tech,” Trey muttered as Judah stood next to him on the roof of the maintenance tower.
“Have you tried resetting it or something?” Judah said quietly, his thoughts more focused on the girl sitting back at the fire than the man cursing over his failing technology.
“Seriously?” Trey said dubiously, looking up from the tiny screen glowing on his arm. “Resetting it or something?”
“I don’t know about that stuff,” Judah said. “I’m just trying to—”
Three distant and hollow pops echoed across the landscape from the direction of their camp. Judah’s eyes darted northward, growing wide as fear seized him. He hesitated only a moment, searching and waiting for something more, before running over to the hatch they had climbed through and descending into the short tower below.
“Wait!” Trey shouted, though Judah ignored him as his boots hit the steel grates below. He ran through the darkness, flipping on the flashlight and ignoring Trey’s protests to slow down from behind. Within less than a minute he was out of the tower, through the gate they had broken through, and running on the road toward his family as fast as he could.
Judah breathed in and out as steadily as he could to fend off any anxiety-based asthma attack. Some had told him that his asthma was all in his head, while others said there was no correlation between stress and his attacks. Still, despite what anyone told him, he was the one who struggled to breathe anytime his nerv
es bested him. Judah believed that fear was the real enemy, not his lungs. So as he ran, the fear of losing his family threatening to constrict his airways, he focused on summoning his courage as he held the pangs of fear at bay. After nearly ten minutes of running, he told himself that he would face whatever came next as bravely as Eric or any other soldier could have.
But as he broke through the trees and quickly scanned the camp, he wondered if his high walls of courage could withstand the fear that was threatening to topple them.
Elizabeth laid on the ground tied up and weeping, her eyes going wide when she saw him. Eric laid motionless next to the scattered fire that now smoldered, tendrils of smoke rising from his back. Judah ran over to Elizabeth and drew his knife, carefully cutting the gag from her mouth.
“Oh God, Judah, they took them,” Elizabeth said immediately as he reached down to cut away the bonds at her wrists. Trey burst into the clearing behind them, causing Judah to tense and briefly turn around, dropping his knife as he raised Eric’s wicked gun. He sighed and lowered the rifle, picking the knife back up.
“Check on Eric,” Judah said quickly as the bonds fell away easily to the knife his father had given him. He reached down to her feet to sever the final cords. “Who took them, Elizabeth?”
“Armed men,” she said. “They shot Eric and left me behind. They said…they’re going to…oh Jesus, help them!”
“They said what?”
“Judah, they’re going to sell them,” Elizabeth said, her tears returning. “They said I was too old for them. They’re taking them to Memphis and they’re going to—”
“Judah!” Trey said, leaning over Eric. “Eric’s still alive!”
Judah ran over, kneeling down next to Eric and feeling for a pulse. “How?” Elizabeth said. “They shot him in the back twice.”
Judah quickly located the two bullet holes in Eric’s jacket—one in the upper back and the other in the lower. Judah raised his knife and cut away the jacket. One bullet fell away from the thin Kevlar vest as he pulled away the jacket, though the second remained half lodged into the vest near his shoulder blades. They carefully removed the bullet before removing the vest to survey his back.
“He had a bullet-proof vest on,” Judah said. “One bullet was completely stopped but the second made it half-way through.”
Elizabeth rose slowly and stumbled over to them as they pulled the vest back. Red and purple skin already dotted his back where the rounds had struck. His left arm was burned and bloody from where he had fallen into the fire. The wound from the round that had partially penetrated the vest was shallow. Despite Eric’s injuries, they watched as his back rose and fell ever so slowly as he breathed in his unconsciousness.
“Okay,” Elizabeth began, taking a deep breath as she wiped tears from her cheeks. “He’s likely bruised or broken a rib and that burn looks second degree. We’ll need to find some alcohol and something to sew that hole up. Once he wakes, we can talk with him to figure out what to do.”
“We don’t have time to wait till he wakes,” Judah said as he rose, glancing northward. “I’m going after them.”
“Judah,” Elizabeth began, “you can’t leave.”
“I have to,” he replied, tucking the knife back into his leather sheath as he searched Eric’s pockets for anything of use. All he found was a roll of duct tape and a Zippo lighter. Everything else had been in his duffle bag, which was nowhere in sight. He tucked them both into his pants as Elizabeth continued to argue with him. When he was finished, he handed Trey Eric’s rifle and shouldered his own ranger-issued rifle.
“I’m going and you’re not going to stop me,” Judah said. “Memphis is twenty miles away and if I’m going to get there before tonight, I’ve got to get moving.”
“At least wait till Eric is awake,” Elizabeth pleaded.
“Every minute I waste is another minute lost,” Judah replied, thinking of his mother, sisters, and Alexandra. “I have to go.”
“They won’t let you anywhere close armed with that,” Elizabeth said, pointing to his rifle.
Judah paused before handing his long-range assault rifle to Trey. “She’s right. You take it. I’ll keep my pistol and knife.”
“I’m going with you,” Trey protested.
“No, you stay here and protect them both until Eric wakes. If he comes to and can move in time, get up to Memphis and find us.”
“Judah, you can’t do this,” Elizabeth said. “You’re just a boy! You can’t go there alone.”
“There are no boys in America anymore,” Judah said, taking a deep breath as he did his best to fortify his walls of courage.
Judah turned and jogged out of the clearing, ignoring Elizabeth’s protests behind him. He broke free of the trees and took one last deep breath before running into the night—an asthmatic boy ready to charge hell to save those he loved.
Chapter Thirteen
To Know a Primal Fear
Maria Brekor leaned up against a fractured stone column in the Capitol Building, watching Lukas laugh next to Jamie as she quietly strangled them both in her imagination. The Imperium News Network was interviewing them both—their well-scripted dialogue painting a glorious picture of Lukas’ might and success. The INN followed Lukas everywhere as he continued his campaign to sell the idea of a united world to the masses. Hundreds of the Imperium’s most loyal citizens had been invited to the day’s special televised event. It was a mysterious speech that Lukas promised would instill shock and allegiance among all those who watched.
Lukas had grown bolder since Maria’s drunken argument with him a week prior, though he had obeyed her request to refrain from touching Jamie so far as she could tell. Maria, however, didn’t expect that Lukas, with his increasingly prideful arrogance as his empire grew under his feet, could keep his hands to himself for long.
Maria tore her jealous eyes and wrathful thoughts away from Lukas for a moment, studying the structure that surrounded them. During the Battle of DC, the Capitol Building had its former glamor set afire, reducing it to a skeleton structure with rib-like protrusions where marble columns and bronze statues had once stood mightily. Much debate had gone into what was to become of the complex. Some Imperium sympathizers—such as Rupert Rosenbaum and his never-ending quest to remake Washington DC into the greatest city the world had ever seen—had suggested finishing what the battle had started and reducing it to a pile of ash so they could start over fresh. Those courageous and dumb enough to voice opposition to that idea had suggested salvaging it and rebuilding the monumental structure as an ode to a nation that was no more. In the end, Lukas had decided to please both sides of the isle like the good politician he was. The Capitol Building would be rebuilt to his own liking. It was to be grander than it had been before in every way and serve him as the central palace for his empire as he stretched his borders from sea to shining sea and beyond.
Hundreds of workers surrounded Maria, busying themselves as they worked tirelessly on the building. They had flocked from all over the east coast, Midwest, and southern states for the safety of the Imperium. Those with skilled trades were rewarded heavily—mostly with lodging, food, and a supply of synthetic drugs. Despite a generally unspoken but still discernable resentment over the collapse of the United States, the millions who swelled the Imperium’s borders had quickly buried their anger for Lukas as they accepted his gracious hospitality and propaganda without question. They had no idea the drugs they were taking to get over a cold or stave off their child’s feverish infection were actually full of nanobots, much like those Sigmund had used. Though the Imperium’s best nanobiotic scientists were incapable of delivering the results of the elusive Brazilian, the drugs were more than capable of curing ailments or causing severe discomfort if needed. She smiled, thinking of the latter as Jamie left Lukas’ side and began walking Maria’s way.
“Well, well,” Maria said softly as Jamie approached. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen my husband laugh that hard. Was it a joke, or perhaps y
ou attempted to sound intelligent on camera?”
Jamie stopped and frowned before glancing back toward Lukas. He was already preoccupied with others as he readied himself for the coming speech—though he had failed to mention anything of its purpose to Maria. Jamie turned back to Maria and smiled.
“Why don’t we take a walk?” Jamie said. “We should have another fifteen minutes before Lukas starts and I think it’s time we set a few things straight.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Maria said, motioning for Jamie to lead the way.
Maria and her small team of guards followed Jamie wordlessly, crisscrossing the halls that had once been a battlefield as they left the bustling hall behind them. Though the skilled contractors and construction workers had already begun to mend what had been nearly destroyed, the extensive damage was still evident. A tall sheet of plastic tarp had been draped over the expansive hole on the eastern façade. The windows and some of the stone work had been blown out in an airstrike during the battle. Lukas wanted to make the entire wall a bulletproof pane of one-way glass—a window to look out at the world that couldn’t gaze back in.
As she passed by the tarp, Maria glanced off to her right. A few dozen off-color patches on the wall indicated damage from a deadly barrage of gunfire. Up ahead, where a stone column had been one of many to line the halls, there were now supporting beams of framing timber to serve in its absence until a new column could be created. Everywhere she looked she saw the destruction of chaos and war. As enthusiastic as Lukas had been about remaking the colossal structure into a home to rule the world from, she only saw what had been death and was now becoming a rebuilt tomb to house her and her husband.
Jamie slowed and knocked on a wooden door that led to an office. After a pause, she opened the door and glanced inside quickly before turning back to Maria, motioning for her to enter.