by J. G. Martin
“Mount up! Let’s go git those runners!” The leader yelled.
The rednecks scrambled into or onto their vehicles and headed off in the direction that the Major and his companion had taken. Mark slithered down the tower and spent a few minutes stretching and massaging his cramped muscles. He took a second to send a burst message reporting his findings so far. Then he made his way to his hidden bike and left in pursuit of the hooting and hollering bounty hunters.
Chapter 29
June 13, 2029
Near Jonesboro, Arkansas
They had made it about eight miles before Rora had started wear out. Derek had taken her backpack to lighten the load but she was moving slower and slower. Her feet were starting to drag and she was visibly hunched over. He had made sure they took breaks and drank plenty of water. Dehydration could kill you faster than a bullet in the wastelands. But, she was just not used to the physical demands of surviving in the wastelands. Rora and her father had lived in an isolated and relatively safe enclave her entire life. There was no way they could make the Express Station before dark or without stopping for a while.
Derek knew there would be pursuers. Who or what they would be he didn’t know, but someone would be coming for the device. Right now though, he was more concerned about the wild dogs that were shadowing them. Millions of pets had been let loose by their owners during the Collapse. Unable to feed them and unwilling to kill them, they had just turned them out to fend for themselves. Cats and dogs had adapted well to the new world; able to hunt for food and intelligent enough to use human structures for shelter, their numbers had not dwindled as much as the human population. In many places they were the apex predators.
Worse still, many of them had grown to the size of their environment. Affected by the chemicals, radiation, and a large supply of fresh meat; they had physically grown larger and become more aggressive. Most of the surviving pets had interbred and their offspring had become vicious mutant mongrels as large as a small man. Packs of the mutant dogs roamed the wastes picking off solo travelers and even attacking small groups. Packs had been known to attack small villages and drag off little children.
The pack shadowing them numbered at least seven and they were getting closer. He could hear their cries to each other as they took turns approaching and then circling away from them. He glanced at Rora and waved her to a stop. She collapsed on the ground and her eyes threatened to roll back into her head. Derek gave her water, but she barely remained conscious. They would have to stop and rest, but that would just encourage the pack to attack them and allow and pursuers to catch up with them. He needed another plan.
Just then, the earpiece hissed to life. “Major. There are six vehicles heading towards your position. They will be there in fifteen minutes. You need to hide.”
“How did the Collective find us? I thought the device would prevent that?” Derek asked exhaustedly.
“They aren’t Collective. It looks like bounty hunters…”
Derek groaned. If the cyborg couldn’t see them, of course he would hire someone who could. He certainly hadn’t been shy about doing so in the past, apparently sending a steady stream of wasteland scum after them. Six vehicles would be too many people for Derek to fight alone, especially if the vehicles were armed. Where could they hide? Then it hit him.
“Come on.” He said to Rora and dragged her to her feet. ”We need to find a hiding place.”
“Where can we go?” She asked, barely coherent.
Derek laughed. “We need to think like dogs.”
“Hunh?”
“The pack of dogs that has been following us for the last couple of hours must have a den nearby along with a source of water. It’s the perfect hiding place. Even if our pursuers have hunting dogs, the wild dogs’ scent will confuse them. We can stay there overnight and start out early in the morning when you have recovered.”
“How do we find their den?”
“Easy, we let them lead us to it…”
With that Derek drew his pistol and fired at the two dogs currently visible. He didn’t kill either one, but he wasn’t trying to. Both were wounded and ran off howling in pain. He dragged Rora over to the spot he had shot them and found the blood trail. With Rora in one hand and the shotgun in the other, Derek quickly followed the wounded dogs. He lost the trail once, but his keen eyesight enabled him to pick it back up again.
“Hurry up Major, they are getting very close.” The voice hissed in his ear urgently.
The two wounded dogs noticed Derek and Rora following them and split up, heading off in different directions. But Derek had spotted their den. There was a small mound of boulders in amongst some scrub just a short distance away. He could just make a small opening on the ground. That must be it. He picked Rora up and carried her along with all the packs and gear. Adrenaline gave him the strength to hurry across the last few yards and drop down at the entrance.
He could see the dust clouds generated by the oncoming vehicles getting closer and closer. Hoping that none of the dogs was inside he shoved Rora through the small opening and forced the gear and packs through after her. He followed her through but got stuck. A moment of frantic wiggling ensued before he popped free into the den and looked around. The inside was surprisingly roomy. The dogs had obviously dug out and expanded an existing natural enclosure. The den was full of bones, mostly animal, but some human. He hoped Rora didn’t notice that.
Derek heard the squeal of tires as the vehicles came to a stop nearby. There was shouting, lots of barking, gunfire, and then silence. He glanced at Rora to tell her to be quiet, but she had already passed out. Outside the den their pursuers were making a racket as they collected the dead dogs. He heard the sounds of dogs snuffling around and the chatter of the hunters as they searched the area. He was pretty sure the scents from the wild dogs would cover up his and Rora’s. That lasted for about fifteen minutes or so before they apparently gave up and got back in their vehicles. The last sound he heard from them was the roar of their engines as they sped off.
He let Rora rest for another couple of hours while he guarded the entrance to the den, but nothing disturbed them. He crawled out and had a quick look around. There were no dead dogs present, but there was plenty of blood to indicate they had all been killed. The hillbillies must have taken them for the meat. Derek hoped it was for their dogs, but that seemed ironically wrong as well. The sun was starting to fall in the sky and he knew they couldn’t be out after dark because the temperature drop might kill them.
So he crawled back in and roused Rora. She was barely functional but he forced her to crawl out and start walking. They had limited time before nightfall and at some point the hunters would find them. They needed a ride and to get as far from here as possible. Derek had carried all of the gear to give her a break, but Rora had just walked slower and slower. He decided to go ahead without her and come back for her. He left most of the gear with her and headed out towards the Express Station.
Without the weight of the gear and without Rora to slow him down Derek became impatient and broke into a jog. He covered the rest of the distance to the Express Station quickly, running full out as he warmed up. He had worked up a light sweat by the time the old gas station came in to view. Derek stopped and took a second to catch his breath. Unslinging the M-14 from his back he peered through the scope at the building. The station was small, only one building that combined the office and a one car garage. A small shed was out back along with three beat up junkers. A single pump sat in front of the station. The whole yard was surrounded by a chain link fence topped with barbed wire.
In the afternoon sun he could see an armed man on the roof of the station. Based on the man’s appearance, Derek knew it was one of the bounty hunters. Taking a minute to steady his aim and focus his breathing, Derek dropped the man with one shot. The bounty hunter’s head exploding as the heavy 7.62 mm round took him in the face. No one else reacted to the sound of the shot; so he approached carefully, slinging the M-14 ove
r his back and readying the M4F3 Carbine.
Derek methodically cleared the yard around the station, his old instincts kicking in. It turned out to be clear, there were no more hunters and no sign of anyone else. He burst through the door of the office and found the owner huddled under the desk, cowering in fear. The owner was a fat middle aged man missing most of his teeth and dressed in dirty coveralls and seemingly little else. A dirty, blue Amoco ball cap was shoved over stringy, greasy blond hair and a black bandanna was shoved in his back pocket.
“Please don’t hurt me.” The man begged.
Derek raised his rifle. “I’m not going to hurt you. I only have a beef with the bounty hunters that are after me.”
“They forced me to let one of them on the roof…I don’t have anything to do with them.” The man whined.
“I just need a ride. Do those junk heaps out back run?”
“The pickup does, but if they find out I helped you they will kill me.”
“We can make it look like I beat you up and then tied you up and took the truck.”
“I don’t know, what if they find you and you tell them?”
“Is there a way to short cut out of the county heading East? A back road no one uses?”
“Well, there is a railroad track you could drive down. You can get on it in an abandoned town that the track runs through. The town and the line were abandoned when the mine played out in 1949. There is a dirt road that leads to it that isn’t on a map. That might work.”
“Perfect, how do I get there?”
“I’ll draw you a map. It’s not that far from here.”
“How much for the pickup?” Derek asked cautiously.
“You got cash?” The man asked with a greedy gleam in his eyes.
“Yes, $300 NRD enough?”
“I’m thinking $600, $400 for the car and $200 for my troubles.” The owner said slyly.
“Fine.” Derek replied with a resigned voice.
He hated to lose the cash but they needed the ride. Amazing how the thought of cash had removed all the man’s fear. Derek counted out the cash and put it on the table. The man snatched it up quickly like a snake striking a mouse. Derek rolled his eyes while the man counted it again with a big smile on his face.
“I’ll get the keys and meet you around back.” The man informed him.
“I’m going to check the man on the roof and then I’ll come get the keys from you. Remember, I need to make it look like I stole the truck.”
“Right, I forgot about that.” The station owner replied with a downcast look on his face. “I’m not looking forward to that.”
“Just think about the $200 for your troubles.” Derek called back over his shoulder.
He went to the side of the building and climbed up the ladder to the roof. The roof was a flat tin roof with a low wall around it. The only two things on the roof were a large CB antenna and the body of the bounty hunter. The bounty hunter was sprawled in a pool of blood, a scoped hunting rifle still clutched in his hands. Derek walked over to make sure the man was dead and see what he could scavenge.
He took the man’s water, any extra ammo, and a large hunting knife; but he left the hunting rifle. That was too much to carry and he already had the M-14. The bounty hunter wasn’t carrying much other than his weapons and light armor. The armor was homemade and probably wouldn’t fit, plus it smelled, so Derek left that. The black bandanna around the man’s neck smelled just as bad so he left that too. He left the body on the roof and climbed back down.
Entering the office he grabbed the keys from the owner and then tied him to a chair. A few light blows later the man looked like Derek had roughed him up and taken the keys from him. Derek smiled at the man and thanked him as he left. The owner was too busy moaning to respond. Maybe Derek had hit him a little harder than he needed to, but it had to look good. Especially for $200. He hopped into the rusty old pickup and was satisfied when the engine did turn over. He slipped it into drive and headed back for Rora.
Chapter 30
June 14, 2029
Near Jonesboro, Arkansas
She was still passed out in the den when he got back. He dragged her and their gear out to the truck. He threw the gear in the bed and splashed some water on her to wake her up. She moaned and started to come around. While she woke up Derek looked her over. Her color was returning and her eyes quickly focused once she opened them.
“Where are we?” She asked groggily.
“Still in the wasteland being chased by everybody under the sun…but I did get us a ride. Sorry, no air conditioning.” Derek replied cheerfully.
Rora laughed and got up. She looked over the rusted, dirty truck with obvious disgust, but it meant she didn’t have to walk so she kept quiet. She climbed into the cab, ignoring the torn and stained seats with the foam popping through. Derek jumped back in and fired it up. They turned around and headed towards the hopefully secret route that the station owner had told Derek about.
They drove cross country for a few miles until Derek picked up the dirt track the station owner had generously called a road. It wound back and forth amongst some low lying hills before coming out into the open. Weeds and scrub pines concealed much of the tracks and it didn’t look like anyone had been down it in years. The pickup rattled and shook as they made their way down into a shallow valley. They could see the rail line ahead of them running eastwards on a raised embankment.
The town, also a generous description, appeared ahead of them as the road paralleled the tracks. It looked more like a refueling stop and train station with a few small wooden buildings instead of a town. It looked pretty run down, with several of the buildings rotting and collapsing into themselves. Weeds had overgrown most of the buildings and not a single window remained intact. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades just like the man had said. But unlike the man had said; Derek didn’t see any easy way up onto the embankment to drive along the tracks.
He slammed on the brakes several hundred yards short of the edge of the little town and scanned the buildings. It would be a good place for an ambush. Plenty of cover for men and vehicles to hide in and nowhere for the victims to run, they would be trapped by the steep embankment on one side and the rough terrain on the other. He sat for a moment considering their options. The tracks were probably the quickest and most undetectable way out of the area, but not if the hunters were there waiting for them. But how could they know where Derek and Rora would be going?
Rora interrupted his thoughts. “Rule #12?”
Derek smiled, she was a quick learner. “That’s what I’m thinking…”
His response was cut short when he saw a glint of light, a reflection off of a scope. He ducked down in the cab and pulled Rora down with him. The bullet ripped through the seat where his head had been a few seconds before, followed by the crack of a high powered rifle. Derek threw the truck in reverse and mashed the accelerator with his hand. They lurched backwards over the rough terrain before he swung the wheel and spun the pickup around. The wheels and frame screamed in protest as the beat up old truck bounced around.
He put the pickup back in drive and raced away from the now revealed ambush. More shots ricocheted off the back of the pickup as they fled. Looking in the rear view mirror, Derek could see several vehicles appear from behind the cluster of derelict buildings. An armored pickup with a machine gun and two lightly armored SUVs started chasing them. When Derek saw the CB antennas on the pursuing vehicles he realized his oversight.
The station owner was part of the group. He had the same bandanna and he hadn’t been tied up or roughed up by the hunters. Nor had the man on the roof had anything other than his weapons. You wouldn’t leave your gear behind unless you trusted the station owner not to steal it. The bastard had set him up for the ambush and then let them know he was coming with the CB the antenna on the roof had been connected to. Surprisingly clever for what appeared to be hillbillies.
It quickly became apparent that while they had avoi
ded the ambush, the trap was still sprung. The bounty hunters’ vehicles were newer and better suited for the terrain. They were gaining quickly on the beat up and rusted out pickup Derek and Rora were trying to escape in. They would have to do something to lose their pursuers. Derek grabbed Rora’s shoulder.
“You need to take the wheel.” He ordered.
“What? I don’t know how to drive.” She screamed back.
“I need to get in the back and try to slow them down.” He explained. “It’s very easy. You use the wheel to steer. The pedal on the right makes us go and the pedal on the left slows us down. Keep using the one on the right and try to avoid any obstacles.”
With that he placed her hand on the steering wheel and started climbing out the window. Whatever further protests she had were lost in the wind. She reluctantly slid over and took the wheel as Derek got into the truck bed. Grabbing the M-14 he took careful aim at the most dangerous target, the machine gunner on the pickup truck. Derek was being bounced around a lot, ruining his aim, but he had been in worse conditions on some of his previous operations. He focused on breathing and zoned in one the gunner. He fired several shots in close succession and was rewarded by the sight of the gunner cartwheeling off the back of the pursuing truck.
Any relief at removing that threat was tempered by another few vehicles joining the chase. An armored muscle car and two dirt bikes joined the other vehicles behind Derek and Rora. The muscle car had a light machine gun controlled by the passenger and they wasted little time in opening up on the fleeing pickup. Rounds rattled off the lift gate and bumper forcing Derek to scrunch down into the bed. The truck was deflecting the rounds now, but that wouldn’t last long, he had to disable that gunner.
Grabbing the M4 carbine he unloaded the entire clip at the car’s windshield, but the steel grating deflected all the rounds. The machine gun continued to fire, a round grazing Derek and more rounds shredding the back of the truck. Desperate, he looked around for something, anything he could use to fight back. Then the answer literally hit him. A surplus fuel can bounced off of him as he slid around in back of the wildly gyrating truck. Digging around in the gear Derek procured the flare gun and smiled nastily. Time to blow something up.