by J. G. Martin
Derek’s musing was interrupted by the appearance of the Express Station on the horizon. He saw the large Texas Republic Oil sign; their red and blue lone star logo on top of a large steel tower. Texas Republic was formed by the government of the New Republic of Texas a few years back. The country had increased their gasoline production beyond their internal consumption and planned to export the surplus. Utilizing the leadership and infrastructure of the old Exxon/Mobil, they formed a new nationalized gas company.
Someone in the executive suite realized they could spread their brand and make more money if they built their own express stations throughout the South and Southwest. Those stations could also provide support and information to the Regulators and the Texan Intelligence Agency. It was well known that every station had at least one agent of the TIA and that they tracked who came and went from the station. Normally that would have prevented Derek from stopping there, but they needed gas. And it was a safe place to acquire needed supplies for the long trip. Texas Republic stations were always well stocked and anything they sold was reliable, versus the independents where you never knew what you would get.
As they arrived at the entrance Derek noticed multiple guards at the gate. The station itself was surrounded by a five foot high concrete wall with a steel gate at the lone entrance. A single watchtower rose up from the compound. The gate was closed, which was unusual. As they came to a stop the one of the guards came to Derek’s window. He was older and very weathered. He had on a ratty camouflage jacket and a black knit cap pulled down low on his forehead. He spit a stream of tobacco juice on the ground before he addressed Derek.
“All customers have to turn over their weapons before entering and we search the vehicle.”
This was new. Derek had never heard of that happening before. Usually all visitors were welcome and a guard in the watchtower looked for raiders or bikers. If they saw them coming the gate was barred and everyone inside helped to defend the station. Curious, he asked why.
“Raiders snuck inside hiding in a truck and raised some hell. We had casualties before we could stop them, including the station master. So everyone going in now gets checked. You can have them when you leave.”
Derek didn’t like being unarmed. But, they needed gas and supplies. A lot of his loot had been in the saddlebags on the Harley lost in the Night Children lair. So he started handing over his weapons. After he handed them over, keeping his combat knife, the guard ordered him and Rora out of the truck.
“We have to search you.”
“Seriously?”
“We’re not takin’ any chances.”
Derek and Rora got out. The guard produced a metal detector wand and ran it over both of them. He confiscated the combat knife Derek had held on to. All the weapons were placed in a box outside the gate. He nodded to the other two equally scruffy guards dressed in similar fashion. They opened the gate and he waved Derek and Rora through.
They pulled into the main yard of the station. It consisted of a set of old style pumps and a small convenience store with a two bay garage attached. Behind it, the tower rose about thirty feet above the building. Already at the pump were two large armored trucks. One was a wrecker with the Wrecker’s Guild’s gray crossed wrench and screwdriver logo on the hood. It looked like the commercial size tow trucks they used to haul tractor trailers. The other was a heavily armored pickup truck with oversized wheels that looked like something out of a horror movie. A green sport bike was parked to the side of the building and a dirty white SUV was out in front. The SUV was lightly armored and stuffed full of junk. Probably a scavenger’s vehicle.
Derek parked next to the SUV and got out. He scanned the yard. There were bullet holes a lot of places including in the glass of the building. A burned out panel truck had been dragged to the far end. Several more guards milled about. They were all scruffy and those that didn’t have caps on had bandages on their foreheads. It looked like the battle had been fierce. Although if their attire was any indication these guards didn’t look like they were worth much in a fight.
He gestured to Rora to get out and they headed inside. They would need to trade for gas and supplies before he could fill up. Since he had no cash, this could be interesting. The store was mostly empty shelves. There were a few cans of food and some bottled water on them but that was it. A short counter with an old cash register was along the back wall. Behind the counter were shelves with auto parts and tools for sale. A heavyset man with a Texas Republic work shirt on was working the counter
At the counter, the scavenger, a thin and worn looking man was trying to bargain with the man behind the counter for what looked like a pile of auto parts. When the storekeeper saw Derek enter he quickly closed the deal with the scavenger. Shoved some New Republic dollars in his hand and rushed him out of the store. Derek could see the wasteland searcher had gotten a very good deal by the grin on his face. That was odd. Express Station owners were known to drive a hard bargain.
The storekeeper was also scruffy and unshaven. He looked and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. The Texas Republic shirt he had on barely fit and his head was bandaged as well. He had an odd look in his eyes like he was eying them up for dinner. Derek hoped that wasn’t the case, one Night Children encounter was enough for a lifetime.
“How can I help you sir?” The man asked obsequiously.
“I want to trade for gas and supplies.”
“Excellent, come into the back room and we can trade.” As he spoke the storekeeper gestured to a closed door leading into the back.
Rora started towards the door but Derek put out an arm to keep her back. “You first Dan.”
“Who?” the storekeeper asked confused.
“The name on your shirt says Dan.”
“Oh right, my shirt was burned in the attack. I’m borrowing Dan’s.” The man said with a fixed grin on his dirty face. His eyes narrowed giving him a rat like appearance.
“After you…” Derek reminded him.
“Of course.” The man said through gritted teeth.
The storekeeper turned and headed towards the door. As soon as his back was turned Derek pulled the ceramic blade he kept concealed on his forearm and grabbed the man from behind. Covering his mouth with one hand he slit the storekeeper’s throat with the other. He turned quickly and covered Rora’s mouth to stifle her scream of surprise.
“SHHH”, he whispered at her, “There are at least two more in the back waiting to shoot us.
“What?”
Derek answered her as he pulled off the bandage from the storekeepers head to reveal a tattoo of a curled snake ready to strike. “He is a raider. The bandage was concealing his tribal tattoo. All of the guards are raiders as well.”
“How did you know?”
Derek searched the man and secured a 9 mm pistol plus one clip, and a boot knife before answering. “There were a number of signs. The guards were way too dirty and sloppy to be Texas Republic employees. They all had their foreheads covered. The bike on the side likely belongs to one of the burners we encountered earlier and no express station guard would let them in. But what confirmed it for sure was when this guy gave the scavenger a great deal. Nobody does that. Plus, he didn’t know the name on his shirt.”
“Oh.”
“You have to follow Rule #7, always pay attention and follow Rule #2, there are only friends or enemies. He wasn’t a friend so…” Derek explained.
“Are you my friend?” she asked quietly.
Derek laughed, “I am right now. I have saved your life twice.”
“It must be lonely treated everyone else as an enemy.”
Derek just grunted at that and checked the 9mm to make sure it was loaded and working properly. He turned to Rora and quickly dragged her over to a standing position opposite the back door.
“Stand here and lift up your shirt when they come through the door.” He instructed.
“What?” she answered in shock.
“It’s a distraction. These g
uys have been out here so long they probably haven’t seen a woman in months. A clean one anyway.” Derek explained, “I’ll hide by the door and ambush them when they are distracted.”
Rora didn’t look happy but she put her hands on the bottom of her shirt. Derek took up a position flattened against the wall beside the door with a knife in either hand. He didn’t have to wait long as three more raiders, all dressed in dirty clothes, burst through the door. All three stumbled to a halt as Derek could see Rora lift her shirt from the corner of his eye. They all had a surprised look on their faces which quickly turned to lust.
Derek didn’t hesitate. He struck like a snake, his body a blur as he attacked them. He downed the one closest to him with a strike of the ceramic knife to the burly man’s throat and a stab of the boot knife to his kidney. Derek swung around behind him and threw the ceramic knife at the raider furthest from him. That man dropped with the blade buried in his eye. Derek finished the move by grabbing the lead raider from behind and slitting his throat. They were all dead in less than a minute.
Rora was so surprised; she stood there with her mouth open and shirt up. Derek gestured at her to cover up while trying not to look too closely at her. He dropped down to start stripping the bodies of the now dead raiders. He tried to avoid the pooling blood as he searched them. One had a cut down pump action twelve gauge shotgun. The other two had the ubiquitous 9 mms. He checked the shotgun; it looked in good shape and had four rounds. One of the 9 mms he stuck in his belt with the other pistol from the “storekeeper”. The other he took out the clip and pocketed it.
Derek glanced out the store’s front window. He hadn’t made any sounds while killing the four raiders in the store, but the others would start to wonder when their fellows didn’t appear dragging his body. He watched the guards talk to the men in the two trucks. They got in their trucks and slowly rolled out. Derek noticed that one of the drivers was still wearing a pistol and that neither truck stopped at the gate to collect weapons. Then the three gate guards closed it and came inside. They were definitely being targeted. Maybe they were allies with the burners and it was about revenge? Maybe someone else knew about the device and thought they had it?
Rora asked him what was going on. He calmly explained the situation to her. “They are clearing out the yard so they can all come after us without interference. If we run for the pickup they will have us in a crossfire, and we would have to ram the gate to get out. It looks pretty sturdy plus they probably have a guy in the tower with a hunting rifle. They are going to keep us trapped in here until they work up the nerve to attack.”
“What are we going to do?”
“We are going to load up on supplies and then fight our way out. Stay away from the windows.” Derek told her grimly as he pushed several shelving units across the back door to block it.
Her only response was a quiet, “Oh.”
Derek went behind the counter and started taking anything valuable and small enough to carry. He found a small rucksack and tossed it to Rora. “This is yours now; fill it with canned goods and water. I prefer peaches.”
She only hesitated slightly before she went to work grabbing cans and bottles. Derek grabbed some spark plugs, a couple of containers of motor oil, and a few tools; as well as a few other parts which he stuffed into his backpack. He rifled through the register and found $92 in New Republic dollars plus a couple of gold coins. He pocketed all of it. It wasn’t stealing if no one was there to claim it. He would consider it his reward for ridding the station of raiders. He also took a few minutes to carve the tattooed skin off the raiders foreheads.
“What are you doing?” he heard Rora ask in disgust.
“These are worth money for bounties from the Regulators.” He replied matter of factly.
She grimaced and turned away but held her tongue.
The entire time he kept one eye on the yard outside. When he saw movement along the edges he ordered Rora behind the counter with him. With a roar of gunfire the raiders opened fire on the store. The bullet proof glass in the front window starred and cracked, then finally collapsed in a shower of glass under the hail of bullets. Cans and bottles exploded as bullets tore through the store. The register exploded as it was hit by multiple shots. Derek and Rora were safe behind the counter; it had been reinforced with steel plates to protect the storekeeper in case of a shoot-out. The sound of the impacts on the steel plates was deafening. Then silence. Derek and Rora looked up at the mirror over the counter that was miraculously untouched and looked out into the yard.
As they watched a raider made a mad dash to the pickup truck and jumped into the bed. Derek fired a couple of shots at him as he climbed through the missing rear window and into the cab. One grazed the raider, but he ducked down below the dash. He started the truck and backed away from the storefront driving wildly. The raider crashed it backwards against the wall and jumped out. He ran and hid behind a beat up SUV. As he ran he shot out the tires on his side of the pickup.
“Why did they do that?” Rora asked.
“To remove any possibility of us escaping.”
“What are they waiting for?”
“Probably reinforcements. They couldn’t know for sure which station we would go to so I bet they took multiple stations. By now they have radioed for the others to join them. We probably have a couple of hours before they get here. At which point we will be dead.”
Chapter 11
June 10, 2029
Texas Express Oil Station Near Greensburg, KS
Derek and Rora were trapped in the store. There were at least eight more raiders out there, at least one of whom was in the tower overlooking the yard. He could see five raiders spread around the yard crouched behind several vehicles and one more hiding behind a stack of metal barrels. The back was certainly covered by at least one raider plus maybe the burner and exiting that way wouldn’t provide any better of an escape route. They would still have to cross the yard and open the gate. The tower would be locked down so he couldn’t climb up there and kill the raiders in it. They needed a distraction.
He scanned the inside of the store looking for anything he could use to create a distraction. Derek’s eyes lit up when he spotted the switch for the gas pumps. Oh, how he loved to blow things up! Even as a child he had a love of fire, always getting in trouble for playing with matches. Boy Scouts had only honed that desire into a skill. Burning things and blowing things up had translated well into Special Forces and black ops. He was known for having a knack with explosives. Many times he had been criticized for unnecessary collateral damage on missions because he had blown up enemy vehicles or buildings nearby the target.
He threw the switch sending gas to the pumps. Then he crawled to the window and started shooting at the pumps with one of the 9mm pistols. He received a lot of return fire, all of which whistled over his head continuing to shred the inside of the store. Once that stopped he peeked over the window sill. He was relieved to see that gas was starting to leak out of the pumps. Derek heard yells from the raiders as they realized what was going on. He lit his last road flare and hurled it out at the pumps. Rule #9 coming in handy yet again.
The yells turned to frantic screaming as the gas around the pump caught fire. A raider actually made an attempt to run to the pumps with a fire extinguisher, but Derek cut him down with two shots. As the flames really got going, he rolled over to the doorway and prepared himself. He stood up with his back to the door and reloaded the pistol in hand and then pulled the second one from his belt. With a gun in each hand he made ready to rush the yard.
“What are you doing?” Rora asked in a very anxious voice.
Derek smiled, “Getting us a ride out of here.” He replied flippantly.
The gas pumps blew with a loud bang, shaking the building and knocking parts and any surviving goods from the shelves. He waited a few seconds knowing more was to come. And he was not disappointed when the tank itself blew. The explosion was spectacular. A fireball shot up a couple of hundred feet
in the air. The concussion from the blast knocked out all the remaining windows on the store and sent debris raining in all directions. The ground shook and dust and parts of the ceiling fell inside the store.
As Derek rushed out the door guns blazing he could see that the explosion had scattered the barrels the one raider had been using for cover and flipped over a beat up car and truck. The raiders in the yard were stunned, most still on the ground. The black oily smoke rising from the wreckage of the pumps would provide cover from the tower. His first few shots killed two of them as they struggled to get to their feet. He ran towards the only vehicle remaining upright, the SUV he had seen earlier. That raider stumbled out from behind it and Derek put two in his face.
Derek reached the SUV just as both guns clacked empty. He pulled the cut down shotgun from his back and took cover. Over the crackle of flames he could hear the raiders calling to each other. The blast had partially deafened them so they were yelling extra loud to be heard. They were circling the truck, trying to convince themselves that Derek was just one man so they should have no problem killing him. Already unnerved by his apparent slaughter of the men in the store and the explosion, his mad dash from the store was further eroding their courage.
He pinpointed their locations from their yells, popped up and blasted two of the raiders with the shotgun. They went down a bloody mess. That left one man frozen midway across the yard, his machine pistol held in front of him. A quick glance around revealed all his comrades dead and his courage fled him. He turned and ran. Derek coolly shot him in the back sending the raider flying. Scum deserved no mercy.
He hopped into the SUV, which was mostly undamaged. There was still some smoldering debris on the hood. It was filthy inside and out and smelled awful, dirty clothes and other refuse littered the inside. All the windows were gone and the front window had a mesh screen over it. A large steel brush guard had been welded onto the front. It was obviously a raider vehicle. Derek turned the screwdriver that acted as the key and was happy when the engine roared to life. The tank was full; they must have filled up as soon as they took the station. He threw it into gear and raced towards the front of the store. A couple of bullets ricocheted off the roof as the sniper in the tower fired on the movement, but nothing pierced the inside. Derek was almost to the store when two men ran around from the back. One was a raider, but the other was a burner dressed in green leathers like the ones from the Night Children lair.