by J. S. Carter
I bolted across the concrete and made a beeline for the bumper cars. The back of the shooting gallery on my right side was long and high enough to hide me as long as I was quick. Other than that, I had to trust Chris that I would make it while being completely exposed. Fortunately, the rides came up to meet me faster than I had thought. I quickly hopped the small railing before grabbing my gun out of one of the seats, immediately slamming a round in and flipping the safety off as I got behind cover. I took a moment to get my breathing under control. Judging by the lack of sound, nobody had seen me.
I flipped the fire selector back into safe. I didn’t want to accidentally pull the trigger and give myself away. I tried not to grunt as I leaned on a shoulder and stretched to gaze through the obstacles in front of me, but I couldn’t see anything. I had to move.
I got up, gun at the ready, and kept running. North by Northwest. I needed to get far away enough from Chris’s left-hand side to flank the group that was supposed to be on my right. Then we’d somewhat surround them and be able to catch them in a crossfire. I tried to think about where I’d step next each time I placed my foot down. There was too much garbage everywhere. It would have been too easy to knock an empty bottle across the hard surface and send it skidding away from me.
I took a ninety degree turn as soon as I felt I was far enough and starting making my way towards the proposed contact. I went from cover to cover for a few meters until I could hear someone talking again. I tried to follow the noise as best as I could and then slid into the side of a gaming stall when I saw them. There were two men with assault rifles holding just outside the front entrance to the mall. Chris and I had only bothered to put broken glass there so they probably thought nothing of it. The pickup truck was parked just nearby.
I trained my gun on one of their heads as I caught Chris move up to a corner that only I’d be able to see from my angle. He had managed to find his bolt action rifle and sheathed a sword onto his back. I couldn’t help but think he looked pretty badass, despite the impractical combination.
I caught his attention and let him know I was ready. He signed back.
Target man on my right.
Fire on my command.
I let him know I understood and it suddenly hit me that he had given the order to open up when he was ready. I trained my gun on the correct guy and worked on my breathing. I only had the one clip with me, which meant at best I would get to fire thirty times before I was useless. I would have to make every shot count. Even Chris would only get five shots before he was out. I flipped my fire selector onto semi and waited.
I watched my target take a drag on his cigarette and nod. I wished I could hear what they were saying, but they were just too far out from earshot for me to make out any particular words. The one next to him took aim at a teddy bear and fired a burst. It was nowhere near me, but the sound made me jump. I took my finger of the trigger as balls of cotton littered the ground and fluttered past.
After a few more rounds of target practice, another two men came out of the mall carrying large heavy bags. I didn’t realize what was inside until they started loading them into the back of the truck. One of them paused and unzipped a bag to peek inside and pull out pink blobs wrapped in paper.
Meat...
I had to fight the urge to change my target. They were taking our guns and all our ammo. All our food. I looked over at Chris, fully expecting the sign to fire, but it never came. I struggled to get his attention as they began locking the truck up and piling in. They were getting away.
Why wasn’t he firing?
I hovered my finger back over the trigger as the driver shifted the car forward and then out into the field, a trail of fluttering dirt in tow. We’d lost our window of opportunity. Anything after that would be useless. I let my head hang low. They had just taken everything we needed to survive.
Chris motioned for us to regroup. I didn't bother saying anything. I knew better than to let my tongue loose when there still could have been someone hiding inside or nearby. My legs and back burned as I held a ready stance repeatedly while Chris and I cleared the inside of the mall as fast as we could. Sweat ran down my face and pierced my eyes like daggers, but I didn't dare take a hand off my rifle, not until I slid a door open to an abandoned ice cream cooler and looked inside.
Nothing.
We had lost all our food.
I met Chris on the top floor of the mall in silence. I scanned over our mattresses, extra piles of clothing, and finally where we had kept our own personal armory, but found no sign of the missing gear. The men had cleared the space out of everything valuable. All of it...
Gone.
Chris let his gun hang loose. “Clear.”
I kicked a cardboard display as hard as I could and watched it tumble down the escalator end after end. “Everything’s gone!” He only leaned against a railing as I shoved my gun flat against a wall and punched a tin box, the sound echoing through the vacant shops and pissing me off even more. I picked up another one and chucked it through a piece of glass, shattering it in an instant.
I looked down to meet the familiar warmth. My knuckles were bleeding and cracked around the edges. I swore and slid my back down a wall. I sat down with my hands over my head and my gun in between my legs. Everything that I had needed to get ready had been taken away. Whoever had fucked us over was going to pay. I’d make sure of it. I didn’t care what kind of pain they would have to go through.
I closed my eyes. The darkness was better than whatever I had left to look at. I could hear Chris walk around and then stop just short. I felt a tug on my hand. I pried my lids open to see him crouch down in front of me and gently pull my hand forward to inspect the wound in silence.
He cracked a bottle of vinegar open and spilled it onto my knuckles. I watched the liquid wash over my hand and bubble up from the fissures within my skin. It burned, but I knew the sensation all too well. It wasn't the first time that he had done it for me over the last few days. And knowing him, it wouldn't be the last, either.
He gently patted my hand dry with a towel before opening up a roll of gauze, keeping his eyes down and focused on what he was doing, calm and collected. “They had M16's—assault rifles.”
I pictured their guns in my head and remembered how one of them had shot. They had military spec weaponry. If you could shoot at someone full-auto, you had an immediate advantage over anyone limited to using semi-automatic civilian rifles.
Chris rolled the fine webbing over my hand, careful not to press it too tight. “I can only think of one place where they might have gotten 'em anywhere close around here...”
Arrino.
We had seen the whole collection in a lockup at the station. Were they looking for us? Or had it just been another one of their scouting parties checking for supplies?
Chris stretched the last length of the wrap and tied it off, but he still didn't let go of my hand. He finally looked up and we gazed at each other. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t doing anything. He should have been angrier than me. He had let them go. Then he finally let me understand.
“You’re ready.”
He stood up and made his way down to the next level by the time I realized what he was talking about. I grabbed my gun and scrambled to get up and run after him.
It was about goddamn time.
Resurgence
I leaned my cheek against the Model 700 and peered through the scope. Unsurprisingly, the familiar cottage was still in view and nothing had changed. I had been staring at it since the moon came down and the sun rose again and warmed my skin. A thin sheet of dew had soaked into my clothes, turned the fields of grass into a sparkling sea of diamonds and began to run down the barrel of my gun in small streams. I wiped the lens clean again with the end of my sleeve. My legs and back were sore after staying in the same position for hours on end even after flexing the muscles every so often to keep them from cramping. It had been my turn to take overwatch.
Right beside me, Chris st
arted to stir and wake past schedule. He popped his head out from underneath our makeshift hide, an improvised ghillie blanket that had been covered in dry foliage and dragged through the grass. We were prone four hundred meters away from the small house and on higher ground, but it still helped to reduce our silhouette. I could hear him scratch the hair on his chin and clear his throat before turning his head to look down from our vantage point.
“You didn’t wake me.”
I kept my eye glued to the piece of glass in front of my face. “You seemed tired.” I also didn’t want to get caught looking at him. We were in a bit of a bind and whatever had happened between us the day before would have to wait, but I was too embarrassed to even risk bringing it up again.
“We’re that confident, are we?”
“Mhm.” I would have called it stubborn. We had followed the truck’s tire tracks for an entire day and only stopped when we had spotted the small house. The tracks kept on going, but something had made Chris want to stay and set up an overwatch position. I rotated my gun until I spotted the chimney as a steady spiral of smoke spewed out from within. Somebody was inside. I figured whoever it was had either chosen to live in the remote location as a hermit, or they had been forced out of town. Either way, I was cold, tired, thirsty, and hungry. I had decided a long time ago that I was going to see this through.
“Any movement?”
“Just the smoke.”
“Alright, boss.” Chris looked over at me. “What’s the plan?” He had mentioned earlier that after the straight day of hiking we were already pretty close to the outskirts of Arrino. The next logical step would be to raid the town. Hopefully whoever had stolen all our ammunition and guns had dropped them off at the house in front of us, but that probably would have been too convenient. I thought we should look into the place regardless. We could find something inside that might be able to help us—preferably something edible.
I willed my stomach to stay quiet and thought about the task at hand. “One of us stays here. The other one checks it out.”
Chris nodded. “Normally I’d agree with you, but seeing as how we’re low on ammo and it’s just the two of us… we gotta take it together. We don’t even know how many are inside.”
I figured he wouldn’t have gone with my plan, anyway. Him asking me what to do was just a part of my practice. He wanted me to get into the habit of thinking critically. He never let up. He would even have me run through scenarios in my head.
“What do we do if someone comes at us from the West? Four people, lightly armed.”
Then they would be attacking from our left hand side. When we would turn to engage, the sun would be at our backs, but we wouldn’t have any cover out in the fields. “We fall back towards the East and get into the tree line.
“What about from the south?”
“Same thing, but use suppressive fire. We’d have to use the hills as cover.”
He nodded. “Good. Eight from the North with a truck. We’re halfway to the house.”
I took a moment to think about it. That would be a bad time. They’d be able to run us down. We wouldn’t be able to run away. We’d have to fight. “Get to the house and take 'em from there.”
“Attack helicopter from the East.”
I blinked. A chopper above our only exit would be unfair. I didn’t even have an answer for that one. I had to look at him “Who the hell’s trying to kill us?”
“Does it matter?”
I supposed it didn’t.
“Come on.”
I shoved the blanket into a pack and threw it over my shoulders before we both started making our way towards the cottage. I felt incredibly light with the lack of familiar weight on my back. It was strange to think that before I would have been happy to lose everything that kept my heels pressing into the ground, but now I couldn’t help but worry about just how much of a shitty situation we were in.
I made sure to keep my distance behind Chris and stared at the square of his back, a short sword bouncing on his shoulders. He had stuck me with his bolt action rifle so that he could use my M4, but we couldn’t afford a large margin of error even with his experience. We were going to have to do everything right the first time. We wouldn’t be getting another chance.
As soon as we came off the field, Chris tried the handle on the back door with no luck. We switched spots and I took a knee as he covered us from behind. I pulled out my makeshift pick and got to work on the lock. I was glad the process came back to me quick. It seemed like out of everything that Chris had taught me, breaking into someone else’s house was the easiest thing for me to do. A few seconds later I dropped the last pin and torqued the cylinder. The handle turned and I pushed the door open a crack.
We were in.
I traded spots with him again so that he could take the lead and I shouldered my rifle. We had managed to hold on to a single pistol. It would be a lot easier for me to use that than to try and swing a long barrel through doorways and across corners. He waited for me to give him a nod. As soon as we were ready, he opened the door and I followed him inside.
I checked my zones like Chris had taught me, glad not to see any guns pointed at my face, then immediately noticed the drastic contrast from one place to the other. The added warmth inside was almost intense. The air felt humid, almost like it stuck to my skin and a sharp, sweet smell made my stomach growl. I took another step to see that we had walked almost directly into a kitchen. I could see fresh fruit and vegetables hanging from baskets connected to the ceiling and a small kettle steamed over a wood burning stove. Somebody was making tea.
I tensed back up again as soon as I heard a muffled cough come from the next room.
Chris motioned for me to split off and move on his flank. As soon as we could both get into position, we'd be able to charge in and surround whoever was there. They’d have no choice but to surrender under the surprise. It would have been a good plan up until the kettle started whistling.
I looked at the burner as the water began to boil and then back up at Chris, waiting for his direction. I didn’t think he knew what to do until we both heard footsteps. He dashed over to my side of the room as quietly as he could and prodded me to move over a corner and onto the other side of the wall so that we'd be hidden from view.
I tried not to knock a picture frame off the wall as I stuck my shoulder to the dingy wallpaper. Just on the other side, I could hear another cough followed by the metal clunk of the kettle being taken off the burner. There were a few more footsteps and then silence. I leaned over Chris to just make out the edge of a body stop in front of the door that we had come in through and I noticed what they must have—I forgot to close the door.
I ground my teeth. I had left it open just a crack. It should have been fine. They shouldn’t have noticed. I could see Chris bring his gun up and lower his shoulders just as the sound of rusty brake pads came in from outside. We both looked at the opposite wall and heard doors slam shut.
A car had just pulled up.
The body in the kitchen closed the backdoor before making its way toward us. Chris pushed me along and I stepped into a living room.
I flashed my pistol from corner to corner, looking for somewhere to hide, but there wasn’t anything big enough. I turned to face a knock on the front door just as Chris pulled me back into the kitchen. I could hear someone pass to answer it, the newcomers quickly greeting each other and piling into the living room. I immediately recognized some of the voices and it made me freeze.
“Can I get anyone some tea? It’s fresh out of the kettle.”
“Fuck it,” said Ryan. “You know why we’re here.”
Kyle cleared his throat. “I've heard a lot about you...”
“Rick,” The voice corrected him.”
Chris hit my shoulder and pointed at the backdoor. I tried opening it, but it was locked with a cylinder on the inside.
Who the hell uses a double sided lock?
I pulled out my pick and got to work while eav
esdropping.
“Rick...” Kyle started. “I think you can help us.”
“I believe there's a reason I've been living here alone, gentlemen, that you helped foster? Does that ring a bell at all? This town— these people were just fine until you showed up.”
“But now they’re not. So you are going to help us.”
“What exactly can I fix that your guns can’t? Or did you already learn that the hard way?”
There was a short pause and I cursed myself for letting a pin come back up. It was a lot harder to pay attention to what I was doing when I was under pressure and much closer to Ryan than I ever wanted to be.
He was the only one to answer the question. “Asshole, consider yourself lucky. While you've been sitting out here, this thing has taken out six of my men without even batting an eyelash. I’ve seen it kill someone with its bare fucking hands like it was unwrapping a goddamn Christmas present. It's pissed off. It wants the girl.”
“You mean Jessica?”
My hand twitched at the sound of my name and I snapped the plastic stick in my hand.
No. No. No. No… Please don’t tell me….
I tried to take out the green sliver stuck in the lock, but it was too small for my fingers. I stared at the mess and started to realize just how bad I had fucked up. This was not supposed to be happening.
“Knox isn't exactly patient. He didn't like any of the girls we got him, said they weren't what he was looking for.”
Rick interrupted. “Last I heard, you had other plans for those children anyway.”
“Doesn't matter,” Ryan continued. “That cold blooded bastard skipped to Chicago and left his mountain lion of a guard dog to babysit us.”
“Juno...” Rick affirmed. “So that's who I have to thank for those midnight raids.”
“Yeah, well, you can thank her when she's rotting in a cell, if we can ever get a handle on her.”
“But the girl,” said Rick. “Jessica... If she escaped—”
“It doesn't care. Juno's been looking for her since day one. It's convinced we've been hiding her from Knox. One of our runners found supplies that she stole from us a few miles from here, but we're spread too thin. If she knows what's good for her, she's long gone by now.”