The Exterminators Trilogy: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Box Set

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The Exterminators Trilogy: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Box Set Page 7

by Mark Gillespie


  “What the…?” Cody said.

  Hitting the brakes had cost him time. The Chevrolet wasn’t slowing down, which told Cody that the Black Widow hadn’t appeared to anyone else. Rachel couldn’t have seen her either – she hadn’t even asked why Cody had hit the brakes so suddenly.

  Cody checked the mirror. The Chevrolet was gaining fast. He could see four people sitting in the cargo bed of the truck. One, maybe two more were in the cab.

  He put his foot down but the road was too dangerous. The Dodge picked up speed but not enough to put any significant distance between the two cars.

  Only one option remained.

  “We’re going to have to fight them off,” Cody said. “Rachel, do you hear me? We’re going to have to stop.”

  “I want to go home,” Rachel said.

  “No,” Cody said. He didn’t tell her that home wasn’t there anymore. That everything she’d ever known back in Spring Branch was a smoking pile of rubble. That was a conversation for another time. “The only way to get rid of these people is to stand up to them. Alright?”

  No answer.

  “Just sit tight kid. We’re getting on that plane.”

  Cody slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The plan was to open up enough of a gap between the Dodge and the Chevrolet to allow him time to stop and get ready. He raced the car down a stretch of welcome straight road, building up a handy lead on the pursuing Chevrolet. But it was a temporary escape – there would be no outrunning the masks tonight.

  “Alright you bastards,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

  He hit the brakes and turned the wheel to the right. Rachel screamed as the Dodge skidded to a halt on the far side of the road. Cody spun the car around so that the driver’s side was facing the oncoming pickup truck.

  He turned off the engine and grabbed the gun. The he opened the door and at the same time, he could hear the pickup truck charging down Bulverde Road behind them. The bright headlights were coming into view as the Chevrolet swerved around a slight corner in the road.

  “Rachel,” Cody said, pulling the back door open. “Get out. Now!”

  She unbuckled her belt and hurried out the car.

  Cody kneeled down and embraced his daughter. He squeezed her tight.

  “I want you to do something for me,” Cody said, letting go of her. He wiped a single tear off her cheek and pointed to a wall of trees at the side of the road. A short wire fence ran along the road in front of the trees. If Rachel crossed the fence in good time and ran into the open fields behind the trees, she had a good chance of getting away.

  “I want you to jump that fence,” Cody said. “Take off into the trees. Run and don’t stop running until you find somewhere safe, you hear me?”

  Rachel shook her head. “I want to stay with you.”

  The Chevrolet’s headlights raced towards them. The engine eased off as the pickup slowed down to a stop.

  Cody pushed his daughter towards the fence. “I love you,” he said. “Everything will be okay.”

  “Dad.”

  “Go now,” he said, raising his voice. He pushed her again. “Go!”

  She looked at him one last time. Then she ran.

  Chapter Eight

  Cody ran over to the trunk of the car. He’d planned to grab some extra ammo before the shootout but it was too late. The pickup truck had already stopped in the middle of the road. Four masks jumped out of the cargo bed and quickly took cover on the other side of the truck. The driver’s door fell open and a dumpy little figure in a mask spilled out onto Bulverde Road.

  “You motherfucker!” the fat woman yelled. She hurried around to the back of the pickup, joining the others.

  The loud crack of shotgun fire forced Cody to dive behind the Dodge. He pressed his back against the tire while the masks fired in anger from across the road.

  In between shots, Cody heard a chorus of click-clacking noises as the masks reloaded their guns and ditched the empty shells.

  They fired again.

  It didn’t take long for Cody to realize that the masks were lousy shots. Either that or they couldn’t see under those creepy masks and in such dark conditions. Bullets sprayed everywhere but they weren’t hitting anything. The majority of gunfire strayed off into the wilderness and even the Dodge wasn’t taking much damage. At least Rachel had gotten a decent head start before the gunfight began. One of those stray bullets could easily have caught her in the back.

  She would be far away now.

  “You bastard!” someone yelled during a pause in the gunfire. “You’re going to die now. And then we’re going to take your little darling too.”

  Cody peered out from behind the car. He could hear them reloading – shoving bullets into the magazines as fast as their fingers could work. They were mumbling to each other. Sounded like they were arguing.

  Cody leapt out and fired three shots. Four of the masks were in plain sight and three of them ducked behind the pickup at the sound of gunshots. The fourth one wasn’t so quick. Cody’s third shot landed flush in the big man’s forehead and down he went.

  “Frank!” the woman’s voice screamed. “Frank, oh my baby boy. No, Jesus God no!”

  Cody ducked behind the Dodge. Uh-oh – who had he shot this time? If the fat woman hated him for killing Mary Jane, what was she going to do now that he’d taken out Frank, her baby boy?

  The masks retaliated with anger. The shotgun fire came hard and fast. In between the masks’ reloading and another attack, Cody jumped to his feet and fired two shots, hitting nothing but air. As he took cover again, a massive explosion rang out from far away. Cody felt the ground beneath him shake, just for a second.

  It sounded like a volcano had erupted in San Antonio.

  The noise of the distant explosion faded and Cody heard footsteps running towards him. He peered out and saw that all four of the shotgun-wielding masks were making a charge at the Dodge.

  “Oh shit,” he said.

  They came out all guns blazing. The fat woman led the charge, shooting and cursing at the top of her voice.

  “You fucker!” she screamed. “I’m going to watch you die. Slowly, you son of a bitch.”

  The other masks were running beside her. All four of them sped towards the Dodge in a clumsy zigzag pattern, trying to present as difficult a target as they could.

  Cody dropped onto all fours, rolled out from behind the car and lay on his chest. It was a maneuver he’d learned on the set of Midnight Trooper – a straight to DVD cop movie he’d made in 1995. This was prone position – shooting from the ground. The cops he’d researched with told him this was the most stable field position and although he’d practiced with a rifle on the movie set, he was confident enough with the Glock.

  He pointed the pistol and fired. One shot – the fat woman dropped like a stone. Second shot – he missed. The third one pierced the chest of the tallest man who dropped his gun and screamed like a dying pig.

  He fell onto his knees beside the body of the fat woman.

  “Fuck you!” the dying man said, spitting out blood. He fell onto his back and a moment later, he stopped moving.

  The remaining two masks had seen enough. They turned around and fled back to the safety of the truck, but not before stooping down to grab the two vacant shotguns that were lying on the road.

  Cody watched them disappear around the back of the truck. Jesus, he’d killed four people now. Maybe five if the guy he ran through with the Dodge hadn’t made it. Five people. How long before that sunk in?

  “Hey!” a screechy male voice called out from behind the Chevrolet. “Alright now mister. Let’s work out some kind of deal, huh? Nobody else has to die here tonight.”

  “It’s nine o’clock in the morning asshole!” Cody yelled back.

  “That ain’t the point!”

  “What’s the deal?” Cody said. “I’m listening.”

  There was a pause.

  “How about this?” the screechy voice said. “We let you keep
that car of yours but you hand the girl over to us. How’d that be?”

  Cody laughed out loud.

  “Holy shit!” he yelled. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  He heard two male voices arguing behind the truck.

  “Shit, I didn’t mean that,” the screechy voice said. “I’m all fucked up man – you just shot my sister for Christ’s sake. I meant, how about we let you keep the girl and you let us take the car and we’ll be on our way? Huh? How about that?”

  “You don’t need the car anymore,” Cody said. He peered out from behind the Dodge but couldn’t see anyone in the dim light cast by the Chevrolet’s headlights. The two stiffs lying in the middle of the road looked like toppled statues.

  “This might have escaped your notice,” Cody said. “But you’re down at least four people. That truck is all you need.”

  Another pause.

  “Nah, we’re still going to need that car of yours.”

  Cody sat up straight, his back pressed against the rear tire. He looked at the black pistol in his hand. How many shots had he fired so far? There’d been fifteen rounds in the magazine to start with, plus one in the chamber. Had to be at least six bullets left at most. Right? That was enough to take the last two masks out. But he couldn’t afford to miss anymore.

  “How about this for a deal?” he called out. “I let you get in that truck of yours and you drive the hell out of here. Take your guns. Take your dead with you if you want to. I’ll even give you Mary Jane back.”

  Bang! Click-clack. Bang!

  Cody ducked out of sight as they answered with gunfire. He waited for the firing to cease before he came back with three shots of his own. The drivers’ window on the pickup exploded and glass shattered everywhere. Two more shots landed in the cargo bed.

  Three bullets left, if he was lucky.

  What was he going to do when the gun was empty? Was there any chance he could reach the trunk and reload in time without getting shot?

  Cody heard hushed voices behind the red Chevrolet.

  About a minute passed and nothing happened. An eerie silence lingered over Bulverde Road.

  Then he heard the sound of footsteps. They came quickly, trotting over a carpet of broken glass.

  Cody sat up straight, bracing himself for the final shootout. Three bullets – he’d use them well. At the very least he’d given Rachel the head start she deserved.

  But instead of gunfire he heard the truck doors open and slam shut. Peering out, Cody saw the two masks sitting in the cab up front. The Chevrolet engine growled and the truck did a swift U-turn on the road, only barely avoiding the dead bodies lying scattered nearby.

  “Thank God,” Cody said.

  He leapt back to his feet and watched the taillights disappear into the darkness. When the truck was gone, Cody surveyed the damage. The road was littered with three dead masks and a large number of spent shotgun shells. He patted himself down, checking for any wounds that he might have missed. He didn’t have a scratch on him.

  Cody turned to the trees at the side of the road.

  “Rachel,” he said.

  He ran over to the fence and stared long and hard into the dense foliage. It looked so bleak and lonely out there.

  “Rachel!” he yelled. “Can you hear me?” How far had she gone? He’d only sent her into the trees because the odds had been stacked against his survival. He’d tried to give her a fighting chance. Cody hadn’t even thought about the possibility that he’d see off the masks.

  Where was she?

  “Rachel!”

  He was about to jump the fence and chase after her when something stepped out from behind a large tree. Light footsteps tiptoed on the grass and Cody knew right away. Seconds later, he saw the shape of blue dungarees and a white long sleeved t-shirt. He saw the bright blonde hair, in contrast to the dark world that held them in its vice-like grip. She looked perfect. Even Bootsy the teddy bear, hanging at her side, looked brand new.

  “Dad? Is that you?”

  “Rachel. Thank God.”

  Cody vaulted the wire fence and ran over to his daughter. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her soft, warm neck. He could smell the scent of wild flowers and grass on her skin. Her heart was pounding, just like his.

  She squeezed him tight.

  “What happened?” he said, checking her from top to bottom for wounds. “You were supposed to run away as fast as you could.”

  “I wanted to stay with you,” she said. “You need me, don’t you?”

  Rachel spoke with all the assuredness of an adult.

  “Yeah,” Cody said, dropping his hands, satisfied that she hadn’t taken any damage. “I do need you.”

  “Are we still going to the airport?” she said.

  Cody stood tall and offered her his hand. “You bet kid.”

  They walked back to the car, hand in hand. Cody pointed Rachel towards the back seat and then opened up the passenger side and dragged Mary Jane’s blood-soaked body out onto the road. Her eyes were wide open, staring up at the black sky. The bullet had gone straight through her body and was now embedded in the car door.

  With a grimace, Cody gripped the corpse by the forearms and dragged it away from the car. As he brought Mary Jane towards the other dead masks, her legs scraped along the road and it sounded like a sharp knife tearing through cloth. Cody laid her body down next to the others. For a moment he was tempted to remove the masks’ balaclavas so that he could see their faces. But he didn’t. Deep down, he knew what was underneath those masks – normal faces, unspectacular, everyday people.

  It would have been easier if they’d been monsters.

  “Are they all dead?” Rachel asked. She was standing beside the car. Her face was expressionless as she surveyed the lifeless bodies sprawled out in the center of the road.

  “Yeah they are,” Cody said. “I had to do it. They were going to hurt us.”

  “Maybe they deserved it.”

  Rachel turned away from the bodies, concentrating instead on the Dodge Challenger. “Did they hit the car?”

  Cody walked over and inspected the damage. “She took a few to the body but they were hitting air mostly. We’ll be alright, it’ll get us there.”

  He kneeled down and his fingers probed one of the bullet holes on the side of the car. There was nothing to worry about. Thank God, they’d…

  His stomach gurgled.

  Cody stood up straight, knowing that he was going to be sick.

  “Rachel,” he said, sounding groggy. “I’m just going to take a leak down by the trees. Will you wait for me in the car?”

  “Okay.”

  Cody hurried back over to the side of the road. Then he jumped the wire fence and ran towards the trees like his life depended on it.

  Five people. Dead.

  He ran into the dark fields, doubled over and threw up. Afterwards, he felt faint and had to sit down on the grass. His head was spinning, like he’d just stepped off a fast-moving roundabout.

  “Nothing personal,” he said.

  He was sick again.

  When there was nothing left to throw up, he spat twice and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he took a deep breath, devouring the fresh air like it was water for a thirsty man.

  They still had some miles to cover before they reached the airport.

  “C’mon,” Cody said. “Keep moving.”

  He jumped the fence and walked back to the road. Standing at the car door, he took one last look at the red-haired body lying on the road.

  Her eyes were still pointing up at the starless sky.

  “So long Mary Jane,” he said.

  Chapter Nine

  Cody turned the Dodge Challenger back towards the 281.

  He knew he was taking a risk going back the way they came. The masks might still be there but the alternative was to find some other route back onto the highway and Cody didn’t know the roads well enough for that. It was dark too, which onl
y added to the likelihood of them getting lost.

  It was a tense journey back. Bulverde Road was a long, winding desert in the middle of nowhere. At any moment, Cody expected the masks to leap out from the side of the road and attack the car. He didn’t dare to blink. One hand was on the steering wheel, the other wrapped around the handle of the gun.

  But they made it. They reached the highway without further incident.

  Now they were back en route to the airport. Things felt as normal as they could possibly feel. The horizon was a reddish-orange glow once again, thick plumes of smoke billowing skywards.

  Cody could literally feel the heat pouring out of San Antonio. As they got closer to the city, they passed several other cars on the road, all racing in the opposite direction like rats fleeing a sinking ship.

  There were people walking on the other side of the highway too, migrating north with the flow of traffic. But there wasn’t enough human traffic on the 281 for Cody’s liking. Where was everyone? Not everyone was migrating north, of course. He guessed that others coming out of the city were heading south, east and west too. But there should have been more people traveling north. San Antonio had a population of one and a half million souls. It was the second most populated city in all of Texas. If people weren’t getting out, they were still trapped in the city.

  Maybe they couldn’t leave. Maybe it was too late.

  There should have been thousands of people on the road.

  Cody glanced at some of the faces. He saw one middle-aged couple walking down the grassy strip along the middle of the highway. They were walking with a sense of urgency. They had no bags in their hands, nothing but the clothes on their backs. They looked at Cody as he drove past with a look of bewilderment in their eyes. Maybe they were in shock, or maybe they were wondering what the hell anyone was doing driving south.

  He took the Dodge into the center of the highway, not wanting to get too close to those traveling on foot.

 

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