“Men never remember to get all the items women need,” she muttered to herself as she crept to the back of the store cautiously, on the lookout for the undead or anyone else that might be lurking there. She had her pistol on her belt, but what she held in her hand, directed before her, was a large machete she had learned to use very well in the preceding weeks. In the darkened interior of the store, she was more worried about the undead than the savages who were roaming the streets shooting everything in sight. She sniffed cautiously ... and yes, the undead were here.
Letting her eyes adjust to the gloom, she spotted the creature standing motionless between two racks against the wall. After carefully examining the rest of the back, it was apparent there was only one of the undead creatures. Slowly a grin split her face as she raised the machete high overhead. She moved a step closer and yes! its face instantly turned in her direction. It was all the distraction she needed as she swung downward with all her might, just as it tried to rush her. "Too late for you", she muttered under her breath as she felt the shock of the sharp edge cleaving the skull in half travel up her arms and across her shoulders. As the creature dropped to the ground, really dead this time, one of its hands grasped the rack next to it. With a huge crash, the metal shelving unit fell to the ground alongside the zombie’s prone form, causing Janet to jump quickly to avoid being squashed.
"Damnit to hell!" she hissed as she stepped on what remained of its head in order to yank her blade out. She knew sound traveled, and that loud crash had probably traveled quite a distance, even from within the confines of the closed store. Then the back door was right in front of her and she quickly shoved it open, stepping out.
Blinking rapidly to readjust her eyes to the bright sunlight, she felt a strong hand grasp the wrist holding the machete and her heart completely sank into the pit of her stomach. Oh double damn it to hell, she thought as a grinning male face with a scraggly beard pulled her closer. Instinctively she snapped her knee up in an attempt to pulverize his manhood, but he was too quick and had already blocked it, anticipating her move. He then twisted her to the side and slammed her against the concrete back of the store, causing her to grunt as the pain hit her shoulder blades, head, and lower back.
"Well what have we caught here?" he laughed in her face as she tried to recoil from the putrid smell of his breath. Oh my God, doesn’t he even bother brushing his teeth once in a while? she thought as his breath washed over her.
"Let me go," she hissed at him as she desperately tried to draw her pistol from her belt, only to feel another hand grab that wrist, pulling it to the side, while removing the pistol from her hand. With shock she saw another man. Equally dirty, with crooked teeth framed in a face surrounded by matted hair, and grinning at her. She shuddered and tried to kick, only to have both of her captors kick back quicker, their booted feet painfully pounding into her shins.
"Oh, I don't think so, lovely thing. In fact I think it will be a long time before we let you go," grinned the first as he replied to her demands for freedom. "Hold her, Mikey, and let's see what she's hiding.” With that comment, a rough hand was being thrust up her sweatshirt to grab her breasts painfully and twist them. Oh shit, she thought in desperation, this is so unfair. As strong as she had thought she was, she was no match for these two men. They had obviously done this before, and countered her every move to break free.
"Oh, very nice and firm. Check them out, Mikey." The first guy appeared to be having way too much fun, and now was loosening her belt one-handed. Her heart sank further as his partner’s hand pulled her t-shirt out and roamed upward, exploring, then reversed course and dug into her loosened pants as she tried to melt into the concrete surface behind her.
"Spit and Ned, you’re gonna have to wait for sloppy fourths, because this girl is so damn fine we're gonna have seconds before we give her to you." Spoke Mikey for the first time as his fingers painfully dug into her womanhood. Behind him, she saw two more men equally dirty and unshaven and shuddered. Jesus Christ, how many were there?
"No!" This time she screamed as she felt her sex savagely mauled by rough fingers; tears sprang to her eyes when she fully realized the depths of her helplessness. She started crying and swearing at the same time but it did no good, as Janet felt herself dragged to a stack of nearby wooden pallets and quickly tied to their surface. Rape seemed inevitable, and she turned her tear-streaked face sideways as she felt her jeans and panties yanked downward to cluster around her ankles, exposing her sex, then felt her thighs roughly spread wide against her will. She clenched her eyes shut as she felt the first unknown man push between her legs and tried to brace herself when ...
"You heard the lady. No means no!" It was a low, deep voice, filled with anger, and Janet's eyes snapped open. He was tall, mid-fifties with a neat grey beard, dressed in jeans and a brown coat. The long, bolt-action rifle he held in his right hand was angled upward at the four men while his left hand rested on a pistol secured in a holster against his leg.
"Leave off, old man. We'll get to you in a minute. Right now we're having fun," spoke the nameless one between her thighs. She could feel his bare skin against hers and shivered, looking in desperation at the stranger.
"Help me, please," she whispered. His face turned briefly to hers and she saw him give a small smile and nod before shifting his attention back to the men before him.
"I will give you to the count of three to release her and leave this city. You are not wanted here, and you've outstayed your welcome. I would advise you to take that grace I am granting you, as I will not repeat myself. Now let the lady go!" The last was growled, and the man's right hand twitched as the gun focused on the closest to him. She could see he held it tightly and that his finger was on the trigger, yet he still hadn't fired. What in hell is he waiting for? she thought.
"Fuck you, old man," shouted one of the savages as he brought his own rifle up. Belatedly she realized it was an AR-15 variant, and her heart sank even as wild hope had blossomed within her moments before. Then a thunderous roar hit her eardrums as the stranger’s rifle fired, and the man closest to him fell to the ground, twitching. She couldn’t see where he had been hit but she could hear his rifle skittering across the pavement as the remaining three reached for their weapons.
She wasn't sure how he did it one-handed but another roar sounded, a round obviously having already been made ready, and the nameless one between her legs went limp as his dead body fell on top of her. God damn it, she thought at the splash of blood and brains that suddenly coated her upper body, but this time she saw the hole between his eyes, right through the bridge of his nose, and the bulging effect a round passing through the back of the skull had caused. She felt a brief satisfaction that at least this asshole would not hurt another woman again. Then everything sped up as the stranger took two steps forward, the rifle in both hands, butt stroking the next closest and a heavy boot coming up almost simultaneously to hit the last directly in the stomach. Both men went down and the stranger was standing over them. This time Janet saw him operate the bolt-action in a lightning-quick move. Impressive, was her only thought as he kicked the second-to-remaining dirtbag again and then moved sideways in her direction while speaking to the both remaining would-be rapists.
"If you two move, you're dead. If you try to speak, you're dead. I would advise against it." Then his left hand was reaching out, a clasp knife open and clenched in its grip, and the ropes binding her wrists were suddenly cut. Both of the other men were huddled on the ground, staying quiet and not moving, she saw as she slowly tried to sit up while simultaneously covering her naked form with her arms. The stranger’s hand moved to her again, and this time the knife was gone and his open palm was stretched forward, inviting her to clasp it. She grasped the proffered hand and was helped to a sitting position as her head swam. She then looked downward and saw the first man he had shot. He also had a bullet hole between the eyes, with a small trickle of blood welling up from its opening and a much larger spreading pool beneath hi
m.
"Thank you. I don't know where you came from but thank you!" Janet was suddenly crying, her shoulders heaving as a flood of unstoppable tears sprang forth. She hated being all girly, but what she had just been through was as real as it gets and she had just known she was going to be gang-raped then taken back to their camp for even more others. She was still trying to come to grips at being mysteriously saved, and she felt the stranger’s hand touch her shoulder gently. Her body instinctively withdrew from the touch and he pulled it back, nodding at her. She knew she would need some time before allowing another man to touch her. He smiled kindly at her, keeping his distance, and for that he had her eternal thanks as he finally spoke again, addressing her.
"The name is Reaper and I was happy to intervene. I heard your cries for help and came seeking. I'll see you back to wherever you consider safe after I deal with these minions of Satan." With that he turned from her and she saw the kindness leave his eyes. A chill instantly ran down her spine upon seeing the coldness and death suddenly appearing within their depths, causing her to shiver involuntarily. She remembered muttering that her name was Janet but did not know if this savior of hers heard or not, as his gaze was focused elsewhere. Looking down at the two men before him, the Reaper spoke in a low growl.
"You have been found wanting in the eyes of the Lord. I will give you a minute to make your peace with the Almighty."
"Screw your God!" shouted the first man, the one who had been butt-stroked, and Janet saw him attempt to struggle to his feet, a large bruise forming on his cheek and chin. Instantly the big rifle roared again, and in a fraction of a second the Reaper had chambered a new round, the large bore of his rifle centered on the face of the remaining savage. The Reaper neither smiled nor frowned, as he was Death Incarnate. Janet didn't bother looking at the one who had fallen, for she knew that if she did, she’d see a hole between the dead man's eyes. She shivered again at the deadliness of this man who had saved her, and struggled to pull her panties and jeans up, then cinched her belt tight against the chill. A quick grab and her automatic was in her shaking hand, as the last dirtbag spoke.
"Please don't kill me," begged the remaining man. He was crying and holding pleading hands up to both the Reaper and Janet. She shuddered and backed away. The Reaper never even glanced at her as he spoke.
"Did you make your peace with God?"
"No, I don't know how! Show me how!"
"Unfortunate!" The words were said without emotion.
"Wait! It wasn’t my fault! She asked for it. Ask her!"
Janet shook her head vehemently, drawing the sudden motion briefly drawing the Reaper's eyes to her, and in that moment the last scum drew a hidden weapon from the small of his back. Janet's eyes widened as she automatically raised her automatic in suddenly firm hands, and without conscious thought squeezed the trigger, putting an identical third eye in the last would-be rapist.
The man who called himself the Reaper looked down at the body, then up at Janet, smiling.
"Nice shot. Let me get you back to where you were staying. It's not safe out here with the Godless roaming the streets. Those shots will bring them running, so we'd better hurry."
Janet still held her pistol, and was now pointing it at the Reaper.
"Thanks for the rescue, but I can find my own way. I'll try to return the favor someday," she replied as she edged sideways to pick up her pack, still wary of the stranger.
"I don't think so. I need to talk to your group. There is work here that needs doing." He paused as her finger tightened on the trigger. "I mean you no harm."
"I think you should just leave." Her courage was slowly coming back and she hissed her last words.
"I told you that I cannot. I must speak with your group. There is an evil presence in this city and we need to stop it. We must band together to take care of these marauders that are killing innocent people. Either you allow me to accompany you, or I will simply proceed to your group's last known location, which was shown to me by other survivors. But talk to your group I will."
Janet sighed and nodded. Well, so much for trying to get rid of him, she thought. She was dirty, sore, and covered in bruises from her near-escape, and only wanted the safety of their sanctuary.
*****
Chapter 7
Jason grunted at Janet as she instructed him to follow and then led a circuitous route behind buildings and down narrow streets. A few of the undead tried to block their path, but he quickly dispatched them with his machete. Janet appeared shaken and her reactions were off, so the Reaper quickly took lead and travelled where she pointed. He needed to talk to this group, and he and Janet needed to get off the streets for a bit as racing engines, followed by gunshots, sounded in the distance. The bodies had been discovered and the two of them were being hunted.
"In here," Janet spoke softly as they neared what appeared to be a small professional office complex. A door stood before them and as he reached for the handle, Janet quickly moved in front of him. The Reaper paused as her small hand reached out to gently touch his chest, then withdrew. He could see she was working through something, but she looked up at him with piercing blue eyes and said, "Thank you again for saving me, but please don't hurt my friends. I'm trusting you, Reaper, and it goes against everything I've learned in the last month and more." She sighed as if considering whether to add to her statement, and then continued. "There is also a man inside, by the name of Bill. Don't be surprised if he's a little protective around me."
"You have my word," the Reaper solemnly replied, and they exchanged nods. With that, she grasped the handle and turned it, only to have the door fly open and the muzzle of a pistol held tightly in the fist of a wild-looking young man shoved straight at the Reaper’s face. Jason saw his finger tightening on the trigger as the man shouted, "Get down Janet!"
Instantly the Reaper was moving. The only solution here was direct action as the situation was spiraling rapidly out of control, and Jason did not hesitate. Twisting sideways while rotating his body to the right, he reached up with his left hand, grasping the extended hand and weapon while rotating his grip counter-clockwise and backwards in a sharp movement. This pointed the gun almost straight up as the figure before him yelled out in pain, going to his knees in an attempt to relieve the pressure on stressed joints. A little more pressure and Jason could easily have broken the wrist or dislocated the shoulder, but remembering Janet's words he refrained from such actions and contented himself with pulling the gun free with his right hand. Quickly he set the safety and held it out to Janet butt first. Idly he noticed it was a Ruger LCP .380 and briefly wondered why this man would be carrying a weapon normally reserved for women, then internally shrugged. New world and all that. Now he stilled his body and waited, watched, and listened, once again.
"Freaking stand down, Bill!" Janet's voice was low and angry as she grabbed the outstretched gun from the Reaper while imposing her body between them; the other man slowly got to his feet, cradling his hand. "He saved my life, jackass. Those savages caught me and he saved me. So just grow up a little and deal with it, and put this damn thing away!" Even more angrily, she shoved him, and the Reaper watched with amusement as he stumbled backwards, obviously dismayed at her anger, and then slowly reached out to take the proffered weapon.
"Hey baby, calm down. I didn't know. I'm cool," Bill said as he thrust the pistol behind his belt. He was young, younger than Janet, and still had his share of pimples. The Reaper at first wondered what this girl saw in a male, barely a man when she was so much older, then realized the feelings only went one way.
"Don't call me baby. I already told you that a hundred times." The Reaper saw that Janet was getting angrier by the second as her fist lashed out to punch Bill in the chest. Her shock had worn off, and it was obvious that her adrenaline had kicked into high gear. After what she had told him, the Reaper watched in amusement as Bill continued backing up into the interior. As Jason followed Janet inside, he turned, closing the door behind them, and the roo
m descended into sudden gloom.
"Man, Janet. It's only an expression. Sorry. Everyone is here. We were just getting ready to go out looking for you." Behind Bill, five other men stood with weapons ready, but none were pointed directly at the Reaper. Behind those five stood an indeterminate number of women. All had weapons and looked determined. The Reaper liked what he saw, but seeing the hunched shoulders of the woman before him, and having an inkling of what she was going through, again reached out to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. This time she did not shrug it off or shy away from the touch.
"Well, you would have been too late. Yeah I made a mistake going out by myself, and should have waited, but if not for the Reaper here I would have been another sex slave for those assholes." This last part was hissed, and her hand instinctively reached upward and touched Jason's lightly, seeking reassurance. The Reaper mildly noted that Bill’s expression had immediately changed to one of anger as he witnessed her subconscious act, and squeezed her hand softly before pulling his own back.
As the others sized him up, Janet's story came out along with the Reaper’s role in saving her life. There was heavy skepticism amongst the others at first, but Janet's vehement attitude and no-nonsense demeanor showed the Reaper that she would not have any lasting effects from her encounter. Her execution of the last of the would-be rapists was a Godsend, and that he considered a good sign. Her fiery account soon had the others nodding and smiling in return as they gazed at the Reaper, who grunted, for this little spitfire girl reminded him of someone he had saved recently, but again he shrugged those thoughts off as one of the men finally stepped forward, hand outstretched. The Reaper shook the strong grip with one of his own and listened as the man spoke.
The Reaper: No Mercy Page 6