End Days Super Boxset

by Hayden, Roger

  The man jumped and let his foot off the gas. “Whoa there!”

  “What are you doing? Where are the others?” Brad demanded and aimed his pistol at the driver’s head.

  “It’s just me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Why are you out here?” Brad shouted.

  “I got lost, OK? Now I’m stuck!”

  Brad held his pistol steady with one hand and pulled out his radio with the other. “Rob. We got a situation here.”

  “Go ahead,” Rob said over the radio.

  “This guy is out here all by himself. Says he got lost. Could be a ruse, over.”

  “Shut that truck off and bring him here.”

  “Copy. Be back there in a minute.” He lowered the radio and put both hands on his pistol. “Out of the truck, now.”

  The driver looked around, confused. “I don’t understand. What do you want from me?”

  Brad lunged forward, jabbing the barrel into the man’s side. “Get out!”

  The man held his hands up, seemingly frightened. “All right! I don’t want any trouble.”

  “Turn the truck off,” Brad said.

  The man did as told and then climbed out of the truck. Brad held the gun to his back as the man kept his arms up. “Start walking.”

  “Can you please tell me what this is about?”

  “Cut the shit. I know who you’re with. Where is everyone?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Despite his denial, Brad knew something was up. He called Rob on the radio. “We’re headed back. Keep your eyes open. This truck could have been one giant diversion.”

  “They’re here,” Rob said. Gunshots popped over the speaker. Then the sound cut out.

  “Rob!” Brad said. There was no answer. He jabbed the pistol into the man’s back. “Let’s go. Move faster!” He kept an eye out for the traps they had set. With that, they picked up the pace and hurried toward the cabin. He heard multiple shots coming from the camp.

  ***

  Rob sunk into his position. Kneeling in his hole, he could see just over the plywood barricade in front of him. Everyone was at their spots circling the camp, and no one was going to get through undetected. Rob listened as Brad told him that the trucker was alone. But then Brad said the word, and it all made sense. A diversion.

  Just as Rob called out to the others, he heard several gunshot blasts coming from the opposite side of the camp. The trip wire traps had been triggered—several of them.

  “East side! East side!” Rob shouted. He stood up and ran across the camp, waving to Carlos and signaling to the other direction. Carlos turned and looked through his scope just as Rob took cover next to where Peter was set up—in a shallow hole behind a barricade.

  “The trip wire is going off left and right!” Peter said frantically. “How many of them are there?”

  Rob rested his rifle on the ground and pulled out his radio and binoculars. He held the binos to his eyes and looked beyond the barricade, into the dense forest ahead. There was movement, more people than he could count. More trip wire blasts went off. He heard shouting and the clamor of an angry mob. A group of people stormed the hill, mainly men and a few women, drawing in closer and strangely unarmed. Behind them ran gangs of camouflaged men holding rifles and pistols.

  It looked as if the entire town had been enlisted, acting as a front wave for Arthur’s criminal army. After triggering the sentry wire traps, many of the townspeople hit the ground in fear. Some ran off, but the massive advance continued largely unabated. That was, until they came upon the multitude of traps placed in their path.

  For the unlucky ones, their legs went right into the holes, followed by excruciating screams. The spikes had been set four feet into the ground and ripped into their feet and legs, stopping them instantly. Rob watched ten people fall to the ground, screaming in agony with one leg stuck in the hole, as they tried in vain to free themselves. Frightened, the townspeople began to disperse, some retreating. The armed men in camouflage, didn’t seem to like this and followed the deserters, shooting their rifles.

  Rob hit the ground with Peter. He called Carlos on the radio, demanding to know what he was seeing.

  “They’re shooting rifles in the air. Trying to keep their people from retreating. It’s crazy.”

  Rob glanced behind him and saw Brad running up with the truck driver at gunpoint. The man’s hands were tied behind his back with rope.

  “Get down,” Brad said, pushing the man onto the ground near Peter and Rob. He then dropped to his knees, dazed and out of the breath. “Holy shit … what in the hell is going on?”

  The radio came back on. “A lot of them are running off. The ones who don’t have weapons, anyway. I think we won this thing,” Carlos said.

  “I don’t know what kind of demented plan this is, but if any of the armed men get close, be prepared to take them out,” Rob said. He lowered his radio and looked at Brad as gun shots and sentry blasts echoed around them. The forest was ripe with screams coming from all directions from those immobilized by the booby traps.

  “What are they trying to do?” Brad asked. “This is madness.” He then turned to the trucker and held a pistol to his head. “What’s the plan? Tell me?”

  The trucker winced in fear. “They made me do it. I’m not one of them. They took over the town and made me drive the truck!”

  “All right. Calm down. Just tell me what you know,” Brad said.

  “Please don’t shoot me!”

  Brad smacked him across the face with his hand, hoping to knock some sense into him. He stared back, starting to cry, as he spoke. “He told us that you stole our stuff. All our pills!”

  Rob moved closer, listening, as gunfire continued.

  “They’re advancing,” Carlos said over the radio. “’Bout fifty yards out.”

  Rob leaned closer to the trucker. “Who told you?”

  “The mayor. Who do you think?”

  Rob grabbed the trucker by his collar. “Well, it’s time to see where your mayor’s loyalties lie.”

  Brad intervened, urging restraint. “Easy, Rob. He’s one of the townspeople. Just like us.”

  The trucker shifted nervously as Rob gripped his flannel shirt with both hands. “We’ll see about that.”

  There was no sign of Arthur anywhere. Rob shook the trucker. “Where is the mayor? Did he come, or did he just send all you to do his dirty work?”

  Suddenly the gunfire faded as Carlos called through the radio. “They stopped advancing. Got some guys taking positions behind trees. Don’t know what they’re doing.”

  Everything went quiet, except for the distant cries of booby trap victims. Rob looked beyond the barrier with his binos and saw several injured people pulling themselves away along the ground, dragging a bloody foot or leg. The traps had really done a number, and it seemed that the worst was over. So far.

  “Why aren’t the townspeople armed?” Rob asked the trucker.

  The man shook his head. “I-I don’t know. I mean, we’re not allowed to have weapons, for starters.”

  “If you’re not allowed to have weapons, then what the hell are you doing up here? I’ve got people ready to shoot anyone who gets within ten feet of our camp!”

  The trucker was baffled and growing more nervous by the second. “They just want their drugs. You give them back their drugs, and everything will be fine.”

  “What drugs?” Brad asked.

  “Guys,” Peter said, anxious. “Something’s going on out there. Looks like they’re regrouping.”

  The trucker looked at Brad as if the answer he had just given was common knowledge and made sense. “The drugs you stole from us.”

  “Carlos. Status,” Rob said into the radio.

  “Rob Parker and his gang of merry men!” a voice hollered from the forest.

  Rob and Brad froze. They would recognize that voice anywhere as the mayor’s. Rob looked out, but couldn’t see anyone, even with his binos.
Arthur’s men had all taken their own defensive positions.

  “Speak to me, Rob. Where are you at?” Arthur bellowed.

  “You get a clear shot, you take him out,” Rob said to Carlos over the radio. He wasn’t going to take any chances. The mayor was a menace and meant business. He’d even used his own unarmed people as bait. Rob hadn’t a clue of what else he had done, but from the looks of their former town, he was nothing but a sadistic killer. The kind of person decent people had to be wary of, not just in a time of crisis, but all the time.

  “I bet you’d like nothing more than to take me out right now. Wouldn’t you, Rob?” Arthur asked.

  Rob scanned the area and tracked the voice as coming from behind a large oak tree about forty yards away from the camp. Rob had no intention of answering him or playing his game. He’d keep him guessing.

  He held the radio close to his mouth and spoke quietly. “I think I’ve got him locked behind the oak tree at my forty meters north. See if and when you can get a shot.”

  “Got it,” Carlos said.

  “Let’s talk business,” Arthur shouted. His voice began to grow hoarse. “Seems we both tried to fake each other out. Rather than some long, unnecessary shootout, I propose we make a trade and call it even.”

  Elliot, Krystal, and Mayra lay alert in their positions around the camp, taking everything in and listening to Rob’s instructions on the radio. He told them to stay in place, and that Carlos was going to take the shot the first chance he got.

  “Rob?” Arthur called out. “Look, we’re not going anywhere. You might as well talk to me. I have an army here. True, your traps did some damage, but I have five times the people you do. It’s a game of numbers.”

  Rob pulled the trucker closer as the man quivered. “It’s time to get this show on the road,” he told him, and looked the man in the eyes. “When I stand up, you come with me. Got it?”

  “I … what are you going to do to me?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Just follow my lead.” Rob looked at Peter and Brad. “We’re going to lure Arthur out. One of you watch my six.” They nodded as Rob called Carlos. “Be ready. Take him out at first sight.”

  Rob pulled the trucker up with him. “What’s your name?”

  “Shane,” the man said, as Rob pushed his in front, gripping his shoulder with one hand.

  “All right, Shane. Let’s take a couple of steps forward.”

  Shane took a few shaky steps as they moved out from behind the barricade.

  “Arthur! You want a trade? I’ll make a trade. One of your men here, Shane!” He nudged Shane a few steps farther with the barrel of his pistol to his back.

  Arthur had yet to emerge, but he yelled back from his concealed position. “OK. What do I get for him?”

  Rob wasn’t amused. “I’ll give you one minute to organize your people and get the hell out of here, or I’ll put one bullet in the back of his skull.”

  There was no response on Arthur’s end.

  “One minute!” Rob shouted.

  “OK, Rob. You win. Hand him over,” Arthur said, holding a hand out.

  “Come on out and get him!”

  Silence fell over the camp. Everyone on both sides waited in heightened anticipation. The smell of gunfire from all the sentry traps lingered in the air. The kids stood huddled in the corner of the room as Mila took a look out the window. Carlos’s finger caressed the trigger of his rifle as he locked in on Arthur’s spot. Larry, Arthur’s right-hand man, was positioned one tree over with a hunting rifle of his own—locked-in on Rob.

  “Ten seconds!” Rob shouted.

  After a slight pause, Arthur gave in. “Wait! I’m going to come out. And if I do, I don’t want any funny business. Let’s settle this like men.”

  “Deal,” Rob said.

  Arthur emerged from behind the tree, slightly out of Carlos’s target area. He readjusted and was trying to line up a perfect head shot. Rob was right, however. Myra was a better shot than him.

  Then everything happened so fast that Carlos didn’t know what to think. Arthur took three quick steps forward, pulled out a long .357 Magnum and fired at Shane, blowing three giant holes in his chest. The shock threw Carlos off balance, but he immediately fired, hitting the mayor in the shoulder and sending him down on his back.

  “Now!” Arthur shouted, his mouth full of blood.

  Shane’s body collapsed and left Rob open. Before he could jump out of the way, a shot hit him in the abdomen as though a rocket had just been launched into him. He flew back and hit the ground hard. Gunfire suddenly began crisscrossing everywhere. Brad jumped to Rob’s aid, hovering over him. Rob looked up at the sky in complete shock. The round had struck his vest and managed to completely knock the wind out of him.

  “Rob, you all right?”

  A barrage of rounds flew overhead. The men from the woods charged forward in one mass movement. Shots rang out from both sides. Carlos fired from the tower, taking several of the men down. Peter, Krystal, Mayra, Elliot, all did their part and fired back at the advancing men. More unarmed townspeople began to emerge, running in front of the men with guns, confusing the camp about how they should engage.

  “Rob,” Brad said, “look at me.”

  Rob was hyperventilating. It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his ribs.

  “You are one lucky son of a bitch with that vest on, but we gotta do something. Another wave of townspeople is headed our way.”

  Many had already made it through the camp and gone immediately to the cabins, tearing through them in search of stolen goods. Carlos did his best to stave them off, shooting all around them. Peter, Elliot and the others were overwhelmed as dozens of people ran past them and into the cabins. Gunshots followed. Mila’s gunshots.

  “Oh God! They got in!” Peter said, jumping up. He signaled to his wife. “They’re in our cabin. We need to stop them.”

  A rabid group ran past Peter, nearly knocking him over. He fired his pistol in the air as they scattered. Carlos had had enough and began shooting anyone in his sights. The frenzied mob didn’t seem to notice or care, even when their own hit the ground, dead.

  Brad sat Rob up and pulled the vest off him to help him breathe. Larry and some of the others were in the process of evacuating Arthur from the center of the battle. Most of the freemen had left the site, allowing the townspeople free rein to raid and vandalize the camp.

  “Mila,” Rob said, holding his side. “We have to go help her.”

  Brad helped him to his feet, and they made their way to the Dunne cabin as Peter and Krystal ran by. Shots from the tower struck all around them, missing the scattering targets. A man suddenly charged Rob and Brad with a two-by-four cocked back and his face enraged.

  With one arm around Rob, Brad raised his pistol and shot the man through the head. His body fell as others scattered. Sounds of distress erupted from the cabin. Glass shattering. People screaming. And then silence.

  By the time Rob and Brad got there, they found the cabin raided, their people injured and the bodies of dozens of townspeople dead on the floor with gunshot wounds. He raced to the room to find only Mila and Ashlee. The children were gone. Ashlee lay on the floor beaten and injured. Brad let Rob go and rushed to her side in horror, screaming her name.

  Rob looked over to see Mila crawling on the floor near the shattered window, crying. Reba was crouched down, terrified, in the corner.

  “What happened?” Rob asked, frantic.

  “They swarmed in here like animals. There were so many of them, we couldn’t stop them!” she cried. “They took the children.” She sobbed as Rob cradled her. “They said that now they have something we’ll trade for.” They held each other on the bloody floor as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

  Tuesday, November 22, 2016

  It was early evening when the cargo truck roared through the cleared streets of Tartarus with its precious cargo in the back. The roving metal beast gained the attention of townspeople within earshot. It h
ad been so long since anyone had seen or heard a working vehicle, and they wondered if it signaled a change of things to come. The military-style truck was large and bulky, with a camouflaged canopy covering the back. The mere sight of it instilled hope.

  “We’re saved!” a bushy-haired middle-aged man shouted from his ransacked house.

  “Cliff!” his hesitant wife cried out as he vanished.

  The man’s family stayed behind and watched from the window as he ran outside to flag the truck down. The truck’s headlights were off. Its bulbs even looked shattered. Smoke billowed from its long vertical exhaust pipe. There was a black star painted on the passenger’s side that looked like the symbol of the US Army. The sight only propelled Cliff further. He dashed through his overgrown lawn and ran out into the middle of the street as the truck steadily approached.

  “Hey!” Cliff shouted, waving his arms frantically in the air.

  The truck’s horn blared, and the shuttling beast showed no signs of slowing down.

  “Get out of the way!” his wife shouted from the front door, clutching her tattered bathrobe. The truck was bearing down, a mere ten feet away from him.

  Cliff flailed his arms. “We need help! Stop!”

  The truck was getting dangerously close. The blaring of its horn grew more incessant. Cliff’s instincts took over, and he leapt out of the way as the truck zoomed by. Wind and exhaust enveloped him as he flew face-first into his neighbor’s yard. With his face in the dirt, he couldn’t see a thing. The sound of the truck’s engine became fainter as it sped on.

  Cliff rose from the ground and wiped his face on his shirt sleeve just as two lines of people began to walk by on both sides of the road, trailing the distant truck like foot soldiers. Cliff knocked the dust off his jeans and looked more closely. The men were armed with rifles and appeared as shadows, backlit against the dusk sunlight.