Surviving The End (Book 2): Fallen World

by Hamilton, Grace

  “There’s plenty for you to do around here,” he said. “Keep Kaylee company, help your grandmother, tend to the sheriff, maybe do some errands around the house. We won’t be gone long.”

  He gave her a brief hug then quickly walked back into the house, Corbin trotting after him like a loyal companion. Violet bit back an angry complaint and turned away. She hated being left behind. Her father had raised a daughter who was blind. Why did he understand so little about how she felt? Didn’t he see the way her face collapsed every time she was prevented from participating?

  Being blind had never really bothered Violet, but at the moment she hated it. She hated the way it made people, even people who should have known better, treat her. She wanted to chase after her father and argue with him, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good.

  They don’t want my help, she thought, kicking angrily through the grass. Even my own dad thinks I’m pretty much useless and a burden. They treat me like I’m no older than Kaylee. I can do a lot of stuff. Doesn’t my own family know that? Doesn’t anybody see any potential in me?

  6

  “Everybody wants to steal the damn truck,” Mike said. “That’s the problem. We might as well give it to them, Jodi. We can get back on the bikes and pedal our way home.”

  The short, stocky man with the bony face revealed that he had Mike’s .38 in his other hand, as he held it up and passed it to the taller man.

  “Here you go, Talon,” he said, in a reedy voice.

  Talon, the apparent leader of the two, snagged the gun, seemed to consider it, then pointed both the guns at Mike’s head. He thrust out his lantern jaw and smiled.

  “If you want the truck, you can have it,” Jodi said. “I’m tired of fighting with people about it. Just let Mike go, please. He’s suffered enough.”

  Talon nodded at the stockier man. “Gunner, go for it.” As Gunner stepped out from behind Mike, Talon jabbed the barrel of the .38 against Mike’s neck again. “The thing is, we don’t want the truck,” he said. “We got all the vehicles we need.”

  “What do you want then?” Jodi asked.

  “Absolutely everything else,” Talon replied.

  Gunner lunged at Jodi, and she was too slow to react. With his right hand, he pointed his gun in her face; with his left hand, he grabbed her wrist, his fingers clamping down mere inches from the bullet wound. He had a grip like a steel vise, and she cried out in pain.

  “Tell your son to get out of the truck,” Talon said. He motioned at Owen through the windshield.

  “Please, don’t hurt him,” Jodi said, tears of pain blurring her vision. “Just take what you want and let us go. We won’t make any trouble.”

  “Oh, I know you won’t,” Talon said. “I don’t let people make trouble. We’re not your run-of-the-mill road punks. Guys like that are as numerous as gnats in summer. But us, we run a careful operation here. Now, that kid better get out of that damn truck right now, or he’s going to get a bullet between the eyes.”

  “Owen, do what he says,” she called. “Hurry up.”

  Jodi heard the driver side door open as Owen stepped out of the truck, heard the crunch of his shoes on gravel as he approached. She wanted to shout at him to run, but she was afraid it would get them all killed.

  As Owen approached, Gunner drew Jodi in close, wrapping an arm around her torso and holding her far more tightly than necessary. She fought an urge to lash out, to kick and claw at his face. Talon tapped Mike on the back of the head with the grip of his .38.

  “Kneel,” he said. When Mike hesitated, he added, “If you want to get out of this alive, get on your knees, you worm.”

  With a look that was both furious and horrified, Mike glanced at Jodi, and she nodded at him. He slowly, achingly knelt on the gravel beside the dumpster, locking his hands behind his head. Owen glared at the man holding his mom, then finally knelt in front of Mike.

  Talon walked over to Owen, waved the gun at the back of his head. Finally, he shouted, “Okay, guys, get over here. Let’s get this done.”

  A third man stepped around the corner. Like the others, he wore a camouflage hat and mirrored sunglasses, a heavy camo jacket, and black boots. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder—Jodi didn’t know the make or model—and he pulled it off. It was matte black, with a pistol grip and a long banana-clip magazine. He took a position near Mike and Owen.

  “I’ve got them covered,” he said. He was craggy-faced and leathery, almost toothless, with cracked lips and a dimpled chin.

  “Okay, Wolf,” Talon said. “Any of them make any sort of move, any sort of move at all, kill ’em.”

  Wolf gave a two-fingered salute from the brim of his cap.

  At this, Gunner forced Jodi onto her knees, his fingers grinding against her wounds. Despite her best efforts, she cried out in pain. A fog of fear and desperation had filled her mind, and she could barely think straight.

  Too many outlaws on the road, she thought. Some group of them was bound to get the drop on us eventually. I should have expected it, but what else could we have done? There’s no safe road to Macon.

  She had never felt so helpless in her entire life, and it broke something inside of her. Once she was on her knees, she drew her wounded arm against her stomach and cradled it with her other arm. Tears ran down her cheeks.

  “Okay, let’s clean it out,” Talon said, gesturing at Gunner as he moved to the truck. “Take absolutely everything. You hear me?”

  As Wolf guarded Mike, Owen, and Jodi, the other outlaws approached the open passenger door of the truck. Talon grabbed Mike’s backpack first, unzipped it, and looked inside. Then he zipped it shut again and tossed it onto the ground beside the truck. Gunner grabbed the pellet gun and set it on top of the backpack. Next, Talon brought out Jodi’s purse, rooting around deep inside until he found the big wad of cash. He laughed as he jammed the cash into an inner pocket of his jacket and tossed the purse beside the backpack. Then they both moved to the bed of the truck, digging down between the bicycle and the pedicab.

  Oh, God, they really are going to take everything, Jodi realized, with mounting alarm. What do we do?

  Of course, it didn’t much matter what they took if the outlaws wound up killing everyone. What good were medical supplies to the dead? Jodi glanced at Wolf, but he was staring at her with hungry eyes, so she quickly looked away.

  There are worse things than death, she realized, fixing her gaze on the ground in front of her.

  Despite her helplessness, she envisioned leaping at Wolf, ripping the rifle out of his hands, and unloading the entire magazine into his barrel-shaped chest. With her current level of sickening pain, such a thing was beyond impossible, but the image in her mind helped her feel a little less like a victim.

  Talon and Gunner added the suitcase and duffel bag to the growing pile of booty.

  “You could leave us something, couldn’t you?” Mike said. “You’ve got my underwear in that pile, guys. Do you really need—?”

  “Shut up,” Wolf snarled from behind him, “or I’ll shut you up for good.”

  Mike grunted unhappily but clamped his mouth shut.

  As Gunner rifled through the suitcase, Talon walked back around the corner of the building. He reappeared a moment later carrying a large plastic pan. With no explanation, he lay down on the ground beside the Silverado, rolled onto his back, and wriggled his torso under the truck. Jodi wondered what he was doing but didn’t dare ask. A moment later, she heard a loud metallic sound, and then the gushing of some fluid. As Talon pulled himself out from under the truck, she smelled gasoline.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” Jodi said. “That makes the truck undriveable. Couldn’t you have siphoned—?”

  “One more word, and your son dies,” Talon said, kneeling to watch as the pan filled with gasoline.

  Jodi boiled with fury and indignation, but she didn’t want to push the man to do something terrible. They might still get out of this with their lives. She bit her lower lip and resisted the
urge to protest as Talon and Gunner finished looting the truck. They left the bicycle and pedicab in the back, but they took everything else that wasn’t bolted down.

  Once the truck had been looted and the gas tank emptied, Talon and Gunner took turns dragging everything they’d stolen back around the building, including the big plastic tub of gasoline. In the midst of this, there came a moment where Wolf was the only outlaw still watching the captives. Jodi sensed movement out of the corner of her eye and looked at Owen. He had drawn his right leg up under him, hunching his shoulders, as if preparing to spring upon the outlaw and try to overpower him.

  Before he leapt, he glanced at his mother, and she shook her head, giving him the most intense stare she could manage.

  Don’t do anything, Owen, she thought, willing him to read her mind. Let them take our stuff, and we might live.

  He must have read this on her face, as he lowered his right knee to the ground and hung his head. Mike opened his mouth, as if he were about to say something—possibly to make one of his typical sarcastic comments—but Jodi shook her head at him as well.

  When Talon and Gunner returned, they stood beside the truck for a moment. Talon said something to Gunner, then he pulled a big knife from his boot and walked around the Silverado, slashing each of the tires. Gunner turned and looked at the captives, bouncing the gun in his hand, as if daring them to complain.

  Finally, when the tires were flat, Talon approached Jodi and the other captives and loomed over them.

  “You wonder how we caught you,” he said—not a question.

  “You chased us from the roadblock,” Jodi said.

  “Yeah, and when we got into town, we jimmied the door into the bar,” Talon said. “We were sitting inside enjoying all that free liquor when your man here”—he pointed the .38 at Mike—“popped his head around the corner and stared across the parking lot like a moron. We weren’t five feet away, separated only by the window, and he didn’t even notice.”

  Your man. That’s who they thought Mike was: either a boyfriend or a husband. Jodi didn’t bother to correct the assumption, hoping it would provide her some protection from the hungry looks on their faces. Talon gestured at Wolf and Gunner, and they left, walking back around the building. When they were gone, Talon took a step back, pointing one gun at Owen, the other at Jodi. The look on his face dared one of them to do something.

  Jodi heard the roar of motorcycle engines a moment later, and soon Wolf and Gunner returned, mounted on black Indian Scout motorcycles that looked like they’d recently been driven—probably stolen—off the lot. Both of their bikes were towing small, silver motorcycle trailers, and she spotted the corner of the suitcase poking out from under the hatch of one of them. A fourth member of the crew followed. He was rail-thin and ugly as sin, with a pockmarked face and a prominent nose. He circled the captives, revving his engine, and pulled up beside Talon.

  “Let’s get out of here, Talon,” he said.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, Pike,” Talon replied. He tucked the .38 under his belt and passed his other handgun to the one named Pike. “Got one last bit of treasure to claim. Hang on.”

  Jodi saw what was coming as soon as he said it, and she could no longer resist the urge to fight back. Lunging to her feet, she took a swing at him with her left fist, but he caught her wrist and pulled her into an embrace.

  “That’s right,” he said. “I’m talking about you, Treasure. How would you like to join us on our little adventure? I’d sure enjoy your company.”

  “No, I won’t do it,” she said. “I’m not going, you disgusting pig. I’ll die before I go with you!”

  She thrashed, flinging her head back to try to bash him in the face. Owen started to rise, but Pike planted a boot against his back and shoved him against the dumpster. Screaming in protest, Jodi kicked backward, driving her heels against Talon’s shins.

  “Now listen, Treasure,” he said, wrapping both arms tightly around her body. “There’s no reason to be rude. You keep fighting me, I’m going to have to kill your friends here. Wouldn’t that be a shame? Just calm down, and I’ll let them live. That’s the trade. You come with me, be an obedient little companion, and your friends walk away unscathed. Deal?”

  Seeing that she had no choice—but still raging inside like a half-mad animal—she forced her body to become rigid, clenching her teeth until her jaw ached.

  “Okay, okay,” she said, struggling to catch her breath. “Let them live, and I’ll come quietly.”

  “No, Mom,” Owen shouted. “Don’t go with them. You can’t.”

  “Stop it, Owen. Just stay right there. Don’t do anything stupid. You and Mike have to live.”

  Before she could see if he’d complied, Talon hoisted her off the ground and practically carried her around the building, where the final Indian Scout was waiting for them.

  “I might be a killer and a thief, but I’m a man of my word,” he said. “You play nice, and I won’t harm a hair on their heads.”

  He set her on the motorcycle’s seat, then positioned himself behind her. This allowed him to pin her in place with his arms when he grabbed the handlebars. She wanted so badly to bite, claw, and scratch until she saw and tasted blood, but she fought to remain calm.

  Owen and Mike will live, at least, she reminded herself. That’s better than everyone winding up dead in a ditch.

  Talon started the engine and drove around the building.

  “See there,” he said, pointing at Owen and Mike. “Your people are alive and unharmed, living in hell. Bid them a fond farewell.”

  They looked at Jodi with helpless expressions, as Wolf, Gunner, and Pike drove away, heading for the road. Talon allowed Jodi a last lingering look at Mike and Owen before turning the bike and heading after his friends.

  “Mom,” Owen cried.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. He stood up and took a step in her direction.

  “Keep going,” she shouted. “Head to Grandma’s. Don’t try to come after me! I mean it, guys. Don’t come after me!”

  “Great advice,” Talon replied, speaking softly right in her ear. It tickled and made her skin crawl. “You just saved their lives, Treasure. Don’t worry—they’ll move on with their lives, and so will you. It’s for the best. You belong to me now.”

  Mike and Owen stood side by side as Talon drove away, Jodi caught in his arms like a fly in a Venus flytrap. She could only hope they wouldn’t try to follow. They had no weapons now. They had no chance of rescuing her. It was up to her to save herself.

  7

  It looked like looters had worked over the front of the store, smashing the big picture window and destroying the display inside, leaving a jumble of broken glass and overturned shelves and tables. Shane would have kept driving, but then he spotted the handwritten sign taped to the front door. In bold black letters, it proclaimed, “WE ARE OPEN. WATER PURIFICATION AND MRE’S FOR SALE. OFF-GRID SOLAR PANELS. TOOLS AND 2-WAY RADIOS.”

  “Was it looted before or after the sign went up?” he wondered aloud.

  “Before, I think,” Corbin said. “The window behind the poster is cracked.”

  “Smart thinking,” Shane said. “Let’s go in and check the place out. Be on your guard.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m always on my guard,” Corbin replied, patting the strap of the AR-15 that was slung over his shoulder. Shane had been hesitant to keep the kid armed. At the moment, however, he was glad for it.

  He let his fingers brush the cold frame of the Glock holstered at his hip as he pulled into a parking space close to the building and killed the engine. Once parked, he glanced left and right to make sure no one else was lingering in the parking lot. They seemed to be alone at the moment. He opened his door and stepped outside, approaching the front of the building, his shoes crunching on tiny bits of glass.

  Corbin followed him, pulling the rifle off his shoulder but pointing it at the ground.

  “Be careful with that thing,” Shane said. “Don’t point it
at anyone unless they’re clearly a problem.”

  “I know,” Corbin replied. “Never point a gun at anyone or anything you don’t intend to shoot. That’s one of the first rules of gun safety.” Though young, acne-ridden, with a bad haircut that had been inflicted on him at Fulton County Juvenile Boot Camp, and a face that still had the lingering residue of childhood, he gave Shane a serious look. The truth was, Corbin wasn’t a child anymore. He’d seen death, and he’d inflicted death. Shane and Corbin had gone into combat together.

  Reminding himself of this, Shane resisted the urge to press the point as he walked up to the broken picture window and peered inside. Beyond the ruined display, he saw gloomy aisles stretching toward the back of the store. A battery-operated Coleman lamp sat on a small table near the cash register, casting a harsh glow.

  “Is anyone in here?” he called. “Hey, can anyone hear me?”

  When no one answered, he tested the front door and found it unlocked. Pulling it open, he moved inside. With every step, he felt and heard the crunch of broken glass. It was loud enough that anyone else inside should have heard it, but no one appeared. Corbin came up beside him, moving low like he’d done at Beth’s house, the rifle held at an angle toward the floor. The shelves were still mostly stocked with tools and hardware, though Shane could see that a few areas had been looted. A glass counter along the left wall was shattered, and whatever had been inside was gone.

  “This is creepy,” Corbin said. “What if the employees are dead inside the store somewhere?”

  Shane held a finger to his lips and worked his way down the aisle. By the time he got to the back of the store, he’d neither seen nor heard anyone. He sniffed the air, trying to catch any strange scent—blood, gunpowder, whatever—but the only distinct smell was the faint lemony scent of some kind of cleaning product.

  Near the back of the store, he found a display of solar power kits. They’d been stacked up neatly on a low table. Shane gestured at it, and Corbin nodded, but they moved past it to the back wall. A small door in the corner had a sign in the center that read Employees Only. Shane approached the door and knocked. No one answered. He pressed his ear against the door and heard nothing. Then he tried to open it, but it was locked.