The little town of Pollock Pines was as devoid of human life as the forest that overlooked it. Despite probably being the only soul there, Jack parked the Mazda on a small road behind the main street. No sense taking more risk than necessary. It had taken him just on 30 minutes to get there, and he was thankful that the winter – so far anyway – was milder than any he remembered. He found a drugstore in the small shopping center and broke in the back door.
Amoxicillin was the only antibiotic he knew the name of and he rifled through the shelves behind the counter until he found it, filling a small bag with all 20 packets. He knew he wouldn’t need that many but having some in reserve wouldn’t hurt. Next, he swept a shelf full of a generic ibuprofen into the bag. He grabbed some more items on the way out, including bandages and a bottle of vitamin C tablets.
He headed back to the car via a different road and stopped as he was passing a sporting goods store. The barred windows were intact, and a closed sign hung on the door. Despite this, the door stood ajar a few inches and he could see that the lock had been broken. The only weapon Jack carried now was his hunting knife; he had lost Danny’s gun back in the escape from Dawson’s and knew at some point in the future he would need a gun. He’d only been in the town 10 minutes so figured he had time to take a quick look to see what he could find. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt.
He pulled his knife out, stepped quietly up to the door and peered in. It looked empty and he couldn’t hear anyone or anything moving around. He cautiously pushed the door inward an inch. From his vantage he could see it wasn’t a huge establishment and that the main part of the store was empty. Behind the counter he could see another door – it was closed.
He decided to go in. He pushed the door open slowly, anticipating the possibility of creaky hinges. He was totally unprepared for the loud chime of a bell above his head as the door triggered the old-fashioned shopkeeper’s bell.
Jack crouched, his heart beating painfully in his chest, and quickly closed the door, holding up his knife in case someone emerged from the door behind the counter. He split his attention between that door and the window back onto the street.
He waited a full two minutes until he was satisfied he hadn’t alerted anyone inside, or out, to his presence, then stood and crossed the room. He lifted the heavy timber flap on the counter and went through. The door wasn’t locked, and he pulled it open to find a small storeroom lined with shelves of goods. At the back was a sink and another door that had JOHN painted on it in big white letters.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Jack made quick use of the facilities before heading back out into the store.
The guns were on the wall behind the counter. It wasn’t a huge range, pretty much all hunting rifles, with a few different makes of shotgun. Disappointingly, there were no pistols. Jack selected a sleek black rifle called a Sako Finnlight .308. It was light and sturdy, the only one that had a scope already attached. He put it on the counter and grabbed three boxes of .308 cartridges for it. There were 20 rounds in each. He didn’t bother with a shotgun but thought he might pay another visit once Katie was better.
He put the ammunition in the plastic pharmacy bag with the rest of his haul. The bag was heavy now, and the plastic of the handle began to give when he picked it up. He swore under his breath and placed it back on the counter. He didn’t want to waste any more time looking for another bag, so tucked the rifle under one arm and braced the bottom of the bag with his forearm, holding the handle with the other.
It was awkward, but it would do. He went back to the front door of the store and was about to pull it open when he heard the unmistakable sound of an engine approaching.
Jack pulled back into the shadows and snuck a look through the window as the truck or whatever it was drew closer. It was coming quick, its occupants apparently in a hurry. A second later, a low and squat camouflaged vehicle sped by the store. He didn’t get a long look at it, but long enough to know it looked like a Humvee but wasn’t – and that the four men sitting in it were soldiers, but not American. Chinese characters printed in white on its side confirmed it.
This was the first time he’d seen the invaders in person, and it left a bad taste in his mouth. Not to mention a knot of worry in his stomach. He knew he would need to take extra care on the way back to camp. It didn’t bear thinking what would happen to Katie if he was killed or captured.
He waited a full two minutes, and when there was no sign of any other vehicles, he made his exit, pulling the door closed with his elbow before running back to the Mazda.
The sun was high in the sky as he drove out of Pollock Pines along the Lincoln Highway. This was the same way the enemy vehicle had headed, and he scanned the road ahead and behind as he drove. He noticed the smoke in the distance when he was about 10 minutes from their camp but, preoccupied with watching for pursuit or threats ahead, it wasn’t until he was much closer that he realized it was originating near their camp. Too near.
“Oh fuck…”
Jack planted his foot on the gas.
26
Jack’s worst fears were realized when he drove into the first clearing and saw the Chinese Hummer parked exactly where he’d parked the Mazda the day before. With a sinking feeling, he jumped out of the car and ran around to the passenger door, grabbing the rifle and a box of ammo. He ripped it open, dropping half of its contents on the ground as he stuffed his coat pockets. His hands were trembling as he popped out the magazine and began to fill it as he walked purposefully to the tree line.
Even though he only passed it by two feet, he didn’t notice the torn, bloody body of the white cockatoo in the long grass as he entered the forest.
Jack slotted the magazine and put a round in the chamber before sliding the bolt home. He stayed low and trod carefully through the undergrowth as he neared their campsite. His worst fears were realized when he heard excited voices up ahead. They were speaking Chinese. He heard a round of raucous laughter followed by a cry of pain.
It was Katie. Like molten lava, white hot anger slowly engulfed the dread he’d been feeling. Jack crept forward a few more feet and slowly dropped into the long grass at the foot of a pine tree. He braced the rifle against his shoulder and looked through the scope, scanning the trunks and scrub until he had a line of sight into the clearing.
He spied a male soldier. He was facing away from Jack, his body partially blocked from view by the trunk of a tree and was looking down. To the left of this man, he spotted another soldier, this one laughing and holding his rifle on folded arms as he watched whatever was amusing the first man.
Jack made sure there were no more men on that side then scanned back to the right. He went too fast; something caught his eye and he reversed. Between the tree partially obscuring the first soldier and another, he zoomed in. Another soldier, this one with his pants down around his knees and his pale ass jiggling, yelled encouragement to someone in front of him.
Through his legs, Jack saw another. This one was on the ground, wrestling his sister, tearing at her clothes as she screamed and weakly clawed at his face. A veil of red fell over Jack’s vision. He settled further into the grass and raised his sight until the crosshairs were between the shoulders of the man with his pants down.
“Say goodnight fucker…”
The report was loud and echoed through the trees. At first, he thought he’d missed. Then the bare ass man jerked and fell to his knees, swaying for a moment before falling face first into the dirt behind Katie and her attacker.
His comrades froze in surprise, giving time for Jack to tug the bolt handle up and back. The spent case flipped from the port and landed beside him as he swung his gun back to the left and took aim at the furthest left of the soldiers, the one who just seconds ago had been laughing at their comrade attempting to rape Katie.
This shot wasn’t as good, but he hit his target in the shoulder, the force of the shot spinning the soldier 180 degrees. He fell to the ground screaming as the other one ducked com
pletely behind the tree. Jack scanned the clearing, but he had lost sight of Katie and her attacker. He ejected the second shell as he scrambled back to his feet and began running southward in a zigzag pattern.
Suddenly the forest was alive with whizzing and whining bullets as the soldiers began firing their automatic weapons blindly into the trees. Thankfully, they were firing in the direction he’d shot from and not only were they wasting ammunition, the noise of their barrage was covering his movement.
He crossed the path that he had beaten from the car to the tent the day before and kept moving until he was a quarter of the way around the circular clearing. The firing reduced then rang out sporadically, the invaders clearly spooked by the unexpected attack. They yelled at each other and even though he couldn’t understand the words, it was obvious they were trying to work out if they’d hit the sniper or not.
Jack approached from the south and got down onto his knees, crawling his way to the long grass at the southern edge of the clearing. By the time he stopped, he had an unrestricted view of the campsite. Katie was lying in the grass where the soldier had been attacking her. Her eyes were closed, but her chest was moving. He couldn’t see any obvious wounds. Beyond Katie, her attacker was hiding behind the body of his dead buddy, using him as a shield from where Jack’s shots had originated. The other soldier was still behind his tree, firing the occasional short burst of gunfire. The soldier Jack had hit in the shoulder was on the other side of the clearing, his eyes closed and moaning in agony. His gun lay a few feet away.
Jack judged that the guy behind the tree was the biggest danger and he decided to take him first. Knowing he would need to rush the clearing after the kill shot, Jack rose to his feet and carefully took aim. He held his breath and put pressure on the trigger as he waited for the man to fire into the forest again.
That was when the wounded soldier on the other side of the clearing screamed a warning in Mandarin.
27
Preempted, Jack fired and hit his target in the back of the head. The man was propelled face first into the tree and then slid to the grass lifeless. Jack sprinted into the clearing, pulling the bolt and trying to slam it home again as he ran. The rapist on the ground rolled over and fired, but his automatic weapon clicked harmlessly.
He’d spent his ammo firing at a ghost. With a despairing yell, he scrambled across to Katie and put a knife to her throat.
Jack skidded to a halt and aimed his rifle at the guy’s face.
“Drop it!” he yelled.
“No, you fucking drop it asshole, or I kill your girlfriend! One move and she dead!”
Jack felt his guts turn to water. How could he get out of this without getting his sister killed? He looked at her. Her closed eyelids were a dark shade of purple and a sheen of perspiration coated her brow. No matter how this turned out, he was thankful she was unconscious.
Sensing the tide had turned, the Chinese soldier ordered him to drop his gun again. Jack lowered the rifle.
“Please, I just want to help my sister. She’s sick.”
“Well, she’s fucking dead if you don’t drop that gun. One, two…”
“Wait! Okay, okay!”
Jack lowered the gun all the way to the ground and left it there before rising with his hands up.
“Please, if you just let me take her, I’ll go. You don’t have to do anything.”
Even as the words tumbled from his mouth, Jack knew how hollow they sounded. He had no power here, and they both knew it.
The soldier laughed.
“Sure, you don’t have to worry, I’ll look after her. Right after I kill you.”
He released Katie and rose to his feet, starting towards Jack with the long army-issued knife held out in front of him. Jack tensed for a fight and was as shocked as the soldier when Katie reared up and stabbed the man in the thigh with the long fork Jack had been using to stoke the fire the night before. The soldier shrieked and reflexively drove the knife into Katie’s neck.
“Nooo!” Jack roared.
The soldier grimaced and pulled the knife free in a spray of blood then turned. Jack hit him before he could bring the knife up and they tumbled to the ground. The enraged teenager began pounding the soldier with his fists, ignoring the flailing knife blade that bit into his shoulder and then his cheek before it slipped from the hands of his enemy.
Jack punched wildly and didn’t stop until long after the soldier had ceased moving, his face a bloody pulp. Jack climbed unsteadily to his feet, his raw, bloody hands by his side and looked around.
The soldier he had hit in the shoulder with his second shot, was inching towards his weapon. He looked over his shoulder at Jack and yelled something panicked in his own language as he made a desperate lunge. Jack was on him in a flash, the knife the other man had used to kill Katie in his hand. Without ceremony, he grabbed the man’s hair, ripped his head back and drew the knife across his throat. A deep red curtain of blood signaled the end of the man’s life.
28
Jack dropped the last shovelful of dirt on Katie’s grave and patted it down with the flat of the wide blade. When he was satisfied, he stepped back and looked at the three mounds. Grass shoots had already begun to sprout in the earth of his parent’s graves, and he knew by the end of the next summer all three would be hidden by long grass. He briefly wondered if he’d also be lying in a grave by then.
Jack knew he had taken a risk by bringing Katie home, but he couldn’t bear the thought of burying her alone in the woods. After he’d cried himself out, he had wrapped his sister’s body in her sleeping bag and carried her to the parking area. He placed her gently in the back seat of the Chinese Hummer before locking it and heading back to camp. Once he’d bandaged his wounds, he collected the enemy’s weapons and took them back to the Hummer, putting them in the cargo bay along with some more supplies from the camp.
Jack then stripped the biggest of the dead men of his blue camouflage patterned uniform and replaced his own clothes, keeping only his tan colored hiking boots – the dead man’s black boots were too small.
His last task had been to drag the dead soldiers into the blackened circle of the extinguished fire and pile them unceremoniously into a bloody heap, covering them with branches, leaves and other kindling.
Accelerated by a half-gallon of gasoline, the pyre of flesh and wood dwarfed the previous fire and sent an oily, black tower of smoke into the sky.
Jack ripped the radio out of the enemy vehicle before heading out. He’d been traveling for 30 minutes before he passed several speeding Chinese patrols heading the way he’d come from. No doubt they were investigating the smoke or the missing unit, but none turned to investigate the single Chinese marked vehicle headed west.
Just outside Sacramento, an armored personnel carrier and two of the Chinese Hummers were parked on the side of the road just outside Rosemont. The soldiers were apparently enjoying a cigarette and pouring over a map. He’d been ready to steer the vehicle into them if they raised their weapons but all he got was a bored wave. He realized that even though it had been an afterthought, putting on the helmet and sunglasses he had found on the front seat had probably saved his bacon.
Standing in his backyard after burying the final member of his family, a prayer didn’t seem appropriate, but he said one anyway. It was for them, not to make himself feel better. The memory of blackened and burning skin of Katie’s murderers in the fire was the only salve his soul needed right now.
He headed back inside a half hour after burying his old life. There was an emptiness inside him. No grief. No tears. The events of the last week had stripped away everything, Katie’s death had been a tipping point. Behind the emptiness though, was a simmering rage. It was in the background like the flickering flame of a furnace after it has been ignited but before the operator has opened the gas full throttle.
It was fueled by anger at the invaders, but also at himself.
It was his fault after all. After promising he’d never leave her alone a
gain, he had. If only he’d taken her with him, none of this would have happened. He wasn’t sure why she’d started the fire but guessed she’d been delirious or confused with fever or something. The fact was, she shouldn’t have been there alone.
What was there to live for now? As he sat in the rapidly darkening kitchen of his empty home, Jack Monaghan decided he wouldn’t live. But he wouldn’t just lie down and slit his wrists like a coward. He would open the gas of that rage furnace and take as many of the bastards with him as he could.
But first.
Sleep.
29
When Jack woke up in the living room, it was still dark, and he had no way of telling the actual time, but estimated it was around 5am. Sleeping longer was not an option – he was wide awake. He went out to the Chinese Hummer, which he remembered now was called a Mengshi; National Geographic channel had come in handy for something. He’d parked it in the garage and put a tarpaulin over it.
From the supplies he had grabbed from the camp, he pulled out a box of Cornflakes and some long-life milk and headed back inside to prepare his last meal in the home he had grown up in.
Perhaps his last meal ever.
He started on the first bowl, and found he was ravenous. He ate another two full bowls before he was finally satisfied. Before he’d finished the third bowl, he decided he would drive to the city center to see if it had been occupied and make his last stand – fulfilling his promise to take as many as he could with him.
It was still dark when he left 20 minutes later. Jack didn’t look back at his home, even though he knew he’d never return. He did look at the blackened ruin of Dawson’s house though. Its look now matched the soul of its former owner.
The route into the city would take him past his old high school. He thought nothing of that, until he was perhaps a half-mile away. The school was lit up like a Christmas tree. Curious as to why there would be power at his school, Jack slowed the truck and pulled up down a side street. He grabbed one of the assault rifles he’d commandeered, along with a spare clip of ammo.
Lone Wolf: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (America Falls - Occupied Territory Book 1) Page 9