End Days Super Boxset

by Hayden, Roger

  Janice crawled over to Mark with tears spilling out as soon as she saw the open wound in James's chest. Mark pulled off his backpack and tore through it in haste. He yanked some T-shirts out and handed them to Janice.

  “Here, hold these over his wound while I look for something I can make a tourniquet with.”

  Distraught, Janice nodded and pressed the shirts onto James's chest as hard as she could while Mark emptied his entire backpack onto the bloodstained dirt below. Janice stroked James's face. “Stay with us, James, stay with us.”

  James struggled to move, but he could barely muster the energy to breathe. He looked into her eyes with understanding. “I got this,” he said, lightly coughing.

  Russell’s familiar voice called from far behind them, which sent chills down their necks.

  “Excellent shot, Billy!”

  Billy emerged from behind one of the trees about fifty feet from where they lay as Kyle followed behind him. Eli and Quinn soon emerged from different sides and walked toward them. Russell came last as he continued to smugly praise Billy.

  Mark and Janice did their best to understand what was happening. It seemed unreal, something from a bad dream, but the sight of James writhing on the ground was a stark reminder of just how real the situation was. Russell's group stopped about fifty yards away from them. Russell then took the lead and addressed his baffled victims.

  “Nice to see you all again!”

  From behind her concealed position, Christina brought her rifle up in haste and fired. The shot missed Russell, but it caused his men to scatter for cover. Russell jumped behind a tree and continued to taunt the group, with his voice loud enough for all of them to hear.

  “That wasn't very nice,” he said. “No matter. My men and I are conducting a training exercise, survival of the fittest. I'm going to start counting, and we'll give you thirty seconds to run. After those thirty seconds are up, the hunt will begin. But we’re fair men. If you're skilled enough, you might just survive.”

  Mark took a short, thick stick and used it to twist one of the T-shirts tightly around James's chest to control the bleeding. Janice held James's hand and repeatedly told him he was going to make it. Mark looked toward Russell's men in disgust. “You vicious monsters! What the hell have you done? This man did nothing to you!”

  Russell pushed his back against the tree and readied his rifle and began counting down from thirty, sending James's group in a panic. Christina looked around and noticed Russell's men quickly moving in different positions all around them. They were moving too fast for her to aim and shoot at them, but she knew they were closing in. She shouted to Mark and Janice. “We need to get out of here, now!”

  Janice looked up and wiped her eyes. “We can't just leave James here.”

  Mark placed a hand on her shoulder as the countdown continued.

  Russell’s counting continued. “Twenty…nineteen…eighteen…”

  “I can handle James,” Mark said. “I'll try to carry him, but you need to run.”

  Janice objected, tossing Mark's hand aside. “I'm not going to leave you two at the mercy of these madmen.”

  “I can't fend them off,” Christina shouted from her concealed position. “They're moving too quickly.”

  Paula began to shake as Christina leapt up and pulled her along. They ran as fast as Paula could keep up while crouching down low.

  Mark looked directly at Janice. “Go!”

  “No!” she said.

  The countdown was nearly complete as Mark stood up and attempted to hoist James over his shoulders. James screamed in agony and fell to the ground, grunting. He was a large man, too heavy for Mark to lift. The countdown ended and shots were immediately fired from Russell's side, startling Mark and Janice. They had to hide.

  “Leave me!” James said. “You dumb bastards are going to get yourselves killed.” Hacking violently, he managed to grab his rifle and sit against the nearest tree. The shots continued when it dawned on James that Russell's men were playing with them. The shots weren't meant to hit anyone just yet. They were meant to get them moving. Russell's men wanted a hunt.

  He looked up at Mark and Janice, who were crouched next to him. “Run. Now!” He shot his rifle indiscriminately into the air, forcing Russell’s men to stop and take cover.

  Mark finally snapped into action and pushed Janice ahead of him, and they took off through the forest, trailing behind Christina and Paula. They could hear James fire again and again, and each shot shook them to the core.

  Through the trees ahead, a recognizable path was in view that led to the bug-out house. Christina's adrenaline pushed her even harder when suddenly she slowed down and stopped, with Paula close behind. There was a large pile of dead branches to her side, and she instinctively hid behind them with Paula. Mark and Janice soon caught up and joined them. For a moment everything—beyond their rapid breathing—was quiet.

  “Is everyone all right?” Christina asked, looking around.

  Mark and Janice nodded in a half-daze, trying to catch their own breaths.

  “How's my Paula?” she continued.

  “Why are they chasing us?” Paula asked, her voice trembling.

  “You just stay down, and you’ll be OK.” Christina threw her pack down while gripping her AR-15. Mark held a pistol and Janice had a shotgun.

  Way ahead of them, James cradled his .22 rifle and waited, hoping that he had enough ammo.

  “I'm going to take them out, one by one,” Christina said. “Then we can go back and get James. I just need a good position.”

  “We have no idea how many of them there are,” Mark said.

  “I just need you two to cover me. Keep Paula here and protect her.”

  “Christina, please,” Mark said. “Give me the gun, I'll take care of it.”

  “No offense, but I'm a better shot.”

  “Don't go, Mom!” Paula pleaded. Christina touched her tear-soaked cheek and rubbed it with her finger. “I'll only be gone for a minute.” She then leaned close to Mark and whispered. “If anything happens, you take Paula and run. Run as far as you can away from here.”

  Before Mark could respond, Christina ran off in a low crouching position. “Be sure to cover me!” she shouted. Mark rested his pistol on top of the pile of branches they were hiding behind, ready to fire at the first sign of one of Russell's men. Janice knelt down next to Paula, gripping her shotgun tightly.

  Christina ran like the wind, moving from tree to tree, careful not to expose herself. She dropped in a prone position on the ground and aimed by aligning the front sight post of the rifle at whatever came in its path. She knew that James was near and was practically a sitting duck.

  Suddenly, she heard him fire his rifle again, only a few trees ahead of her. She looked closer and could see the smoke over his shoulders and his drooping head. He was losing consciousness but doing his best to keep Russell's men at bay.

  “James!” Christina called out as softly as she could. “Where are they?”

  To her immediate right, she saw Quinn lurking about ten meters away, trying to maneuver closer to James from behind. She aimed directly at his clean-shaved head and took the shot. Quinn's head split open, and he dropped to the ground like a rag-doll.

  The gunshot had completely exposed her position, and she saw Billy frantically running toward her from the other side. He didn't find cover in time, and she took another shot that tore through his throat and left his stunned body twitching on the ground. She scanned the area ahead of her ninety degrees. Shots instantly fired from afar, hitting the tree she was using for cover. She winced and pinned herself flat on the ground. Whoever was firing at her was merciless, and they wouldn't give her a chance to move. She could hear talking, commands being given, and she instinctively raised her rifle and fired. Her ears rang badly, enough to make her head ache.

  Eli came into view and approached the tree James was sitting against. Christina brought the rifle up, aimed, and pulled the trigger. She heard only a click in r
esponse. Out of ammo. “Shit!” she said, teeth clenched, knowing that she had to get out of there. She quickly crawled back some, jumped up, and ran back to the pile of branches where the others were. She wanted so much to have saved James, but there was little she could do.

  Eli and Kyle slowly closed in on James as he struggled with his hunting rifle. He could hold it no more and dropped it to the ground. Both Eli and Kyle had their guns drawn and aimed at James.

  “You want to finish him off?” Eli asked.

  James continued to cough up blood. He was slouched against the tree.

  “You do it, I don't really care. We need to get the others and link up with Quinn and Billy. I heard some gunfire and I'm a little worried.”

  “You think either of them got shot?”

  “I don't know. Shoot him, and then we'll find out.”

  They stopped at James’s feet. From a foot away, Eli raised his rifle and aimed it at James's head.

  Kyle leaned down to mockingly address him. “Farewell, James. You stirred up a little more trouble than you could handle.”

  “Your mother,” James said, coughing.

  Kyle smiled. Taking a step back, he signaled for Eli to finish the job.

  “Wait!” Russell called out from behind them. His men stopped and turned around. “Leave him be.” James lay slumped against the tree, struggling to breathe. Russell pulled a Desert Eagle pistol from his jacket and pointed it directly at James.

  “If anyone here is going to do this, I think it should be me,” Russell said. “After all, it was I who let this man infiltrate our militia.”

  James looked up at Russell with contempt. “You're no militia, you're just a group of thugs. Nothing more, nothing less.” He coughed more blood up, held his hand to his mouth, and then continued. “One day you'll run out of ammo and be as helpless as the people you terrorize. Then you'll be nothing. Without ammo, you'll have no power.”

  Russell held his pistol aimed firmly at James. “Come on now, James. We also have lots of knives.”

  James started to laugh, but doubled over with a hacking cough. He looked up at Russell with watering eyes. “You'll die before you see your dream realized. I promise you.”

  Christina was frantic when she met back up with everyone. Janice tried to calm her down. Mark asked endless questions. They had hoped for a miracle but began to see that as an impossibility. “I'm out of ammo,” Christina said, close to tears. “I took two of theirs out but had to run. I don't know how many more there are.”

  Mark looked over the branches they were hiding behind. “I'll go.”

  Janice grabbed him. “No, you can't. You don't have the range on that pistol. Can't you see that they're playing with us? Trying to lure us out one by one?”

  “I agree,” Christina said. “We have to stick together and stand our ground.”

  Mark turned to them in anger. “James has done everything for us. Are we just going to leave him out there for target practice?”

  “He wouldn't want you to die for him,” Janice said. “He wouldn't want any of us to.”

  They huddled behind their temporary cover in a state of panic and confusion, trying to decide their next move. There were no easy answers and no guarantee that they were going to survive. They all locked hands and took a moment to clear their minds and find some peace before facing their fate.

  Russell was undeterred by James's taunts, but he wasn't necessarily ready to shoot him. He enjoyed seeing the man gasp for breath and suffer. Maybe—in the end—it would be better to let him suffer. Deep inside, Russell respected James, but the sting of betrayal had consumed Russell and made him even more vengeful. If he had respected James less, it would probably have been different.

  “You're right, James, I may not have long myself. And in my last few years here, I tried to make a difference. But you're wrong when you call us thugs. We offer protection against the thugs. Our imperial government, they're the thugs. You could have been a tremendous asset to our cause. I admired you. I wanted to see you move up in the ranks. We were so close, it's really just tragic.”

  James stared back, unresponsive. His rifle lay on the ground beside him, where it would remain.

  Russell continued. “Just know that when you die, part of me will die with you.”

  Intervention

  They had been on the road for some time in the bug-out van, having narrowly left Atlanta without resistance, and stuck to the least populated roads they could find. People were everywhere on foot, and they passed plenty of them on the way. Terrance was steady behind the wheel, glancing at the fuel gauge every minute or so. Richie sat in the front passenger seat and Tobias was in the back. The family was almost finally together, but they were missing their main parts—Christina and Paula. As they scaled the Georgian landscape toward Milledgeville, the extent of the catastrophe struck Richie.

  “What if it's like this through the entire country?” he asked.

  “We can't worry about that right now,” Terrance said after taking a deep breath. “We just need to get to the bug-out house.”

  It was early evening and the sun was going down. They were close and had been without incident so far. Terrance had hoped to return before it got too late, but ultimately didn't care as long as they got there. A fearful premonition suddenly swept over him, as though something bad had happened, or of something that awaited them.

  No fans of staying at the bug-out house, Richie and Tobias remained mostly silent and stared out the window, watching trees pass by in a blur. Terrance had chosen to take the most rural path possible, but they still saw plenty of abandoned cars. A few military trucks passed them at one point, going in the opposite direction. The sight of other working vehicles on the road elicited hope that things weren't as bad as they seemed.

  Terrance proceeded on, determined to reunite his family. With only a few miles left, he increased his speed in anticipation. Throughout their journey, he kept their speed below sixty to save fuel—and to avoid road traps—but they were in range and he didn't care anymore. The closer they got, the more Terrance felt something was wrong. He didn't like the increasing feeling of dread. There was no rhyme or reason to it. He should have felt just the opposite.

  He looked over to Richie. “We're close now, I want you both to keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary.”

  Richie turned to him with a raised brow. “Out of the ordinary? You serious?”

  “You know what I mean,” Terrance snapped. “Anything more out of the ordinary than usual.”

  “What are you worried about?” Tobias asked. It was as if he could sense his father's apprehension.

  “Nothing. We're almost there, that's all. Milledgeville is a big place with lots of people. But if we stick to the rural route, we should be fine.”

  They passed a sign: Milledgeville Population 20,000. It was an old city with lots of character and activity. Unfortunately, the aftermath of the EMP blasts had turned it into as unrecognizable a city as any they had encountered so far. Buildings were vandalized, stores had been looted, and trash was piled everywhere, for starters.

  Terrance wisely avoided the roads leading into downtown and merged onto a bumpy dirt road, which would bring them closer to the protection and isolation of James's bug-out house. The tires kicked up dust from the road, creating a light haze in the air. The windows in the van were cracked, allowing a breeze to circulate inside.

  “Remember those weirdos who came to the house before?” Tobias asked his father.

  “What weirdos?” Richie asked, turning around.

  “Some dirty, shady-looking dudes. They were trying to get supplies from us.”

  “They were men just looking for a helping hand, that's all,” Terrance answered.

  “I didn't trust them,” Tobias said.

  “Not just a matter of trust. You should never trust a person you just met. You have to be able to gauge their intentions, let 'em earn that trust.”

  “I don't trust anyone,” Richie added. “
No one and nothing.”

  “No reason to be overzealous about it, son. Some day we might be in a position where we need someone's help. Don't forget that.”

  Their conversation was cut short by the sound of a gunshot in the distance. Then another.

  “What was that?” Tobias asked.

  Richie manually rolled his window down all the way and looked around. Lush green forest was on both sides of the one-lane dirt road. Terrance slowed the van from twenty down to fifteen MPH to keep it steady and to determine the source of the pops. They sounded uncomfortably close.

  “No big deal,” Richie said. “Hear the same thing all the time back home.”

  Another, louder shot rang out, and Terrance pulled the van to the side and parked in a shaded spot on the grass. “I knew something wasn't right,” he muttered to himself, turning off the engine.

  Richie looked at him, confused. “Um. Dad?”

  Terrance stared straight ahead, then scanned from left to right. They were too close to the bug-out house, and the shots weren't random enough to be simple target practice. Something was wrong, just as Terrance suspected and feared. He leaned forward and pulled out his pistol from under the seat. But he also knew of another pistol in the glove box and instructed Richie to get it.

  Richie opened the glove box and drew a revolver from it—the very one they took from John Doe. Terrance glanced at Tobias in the rearview mirror and knew it was better to ask Richie. “I'm going to scout things out. Make sure to defend yourselves if anything happens.”

  “Are you crazy?” Richie asked. “You could get shot.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Another gunshot sounded, this time much closer. “Both of you don't leave this van until I come back.”

  “Dad, wait,” Tobias said, pleading.

  Terrance swung open the squeaky van door as a blanket of dust rained over the van. He stopped and looked back at Tobias.

  “You stay here like I asked you to. I won't be gone but a minute.” He stepped out of the van onto a dry patch of grass and closed the door. He then leaned back in the car through the window and pointed to Richie. “You know how to use that thing, right?” he said, referring to the revolver.