The Secret Apocalypse (Book 8): Rage Against the Dying

by James Harden

  “Yeah, it’s a target, but this could work,” Kim says eagerly. “Firstly, they won’t expect it. Not in a million years. And secondly, it’s big enough, solid enough, that it should be able to take some damage. It should be able to take a few bullets here and there and keep going.”

  “We don’t even know if it’s fueled up,” I say.

  “Don’t worry, it’ll be fueled up,” Kim answers, completely one hundred percent sure of herself. “Fire trucks, just like police cars, they need to be fueled up and ready to go in case of an emergency. And this place looks completely untouched. It hasn’t been looted yet. Which means it’s likely that no one has taken the fuel out of the tank.”

  Jack says, “The front door was locked up. Had to break it open with my knife to get in here. I think Kim is right. This place hasn’t been looted yet.”

  I quickly scan the fire station from our hiding spot. The place is immaculately clean. There’s no way it’s been looted. This crazy, crazy plan is starting to sound like it could work.

  “I wonder why they didn’t used this truck in setting up the barricade,” Maria says. “Seems to me like it’d be pretty useful.”

  “I’m pretty sure they took one of them out,” Jack answers, pointing to an empty parking space next to us. “Maybe they wanted to leave this one here as a backup.”

  Jack’s right. There’s a space big enough for another truck right next to us. Did they use the other one to reinforce the barricade? I can’t remember.

  “Maybe they figured the fire station was behind the barricade,” Jack continues. “Maybe they figured this place would be safe.”

  Kim crawls out from under the truck and jumps into the driver’s seat. She is wasting no time.

  The rest of us follow her lead.

  “There’s plenty of room back here,” Kim says. “We can all fit. Let’s go.”

  “Who’s driving?” Maria asks.

  “I’ll do it,” Kenji says.

  “Wait, we need keys,” I say.

  “The office is back there,” Jack answers. “At least, I think it is.”

  “I’ll go,” I say, running for the office.

  “Wait,” Kenji calls out. “We’re surrounded. We don’t know who’s back there.”

  I pause. Think it over. Nah, they wouldn’t come inside. They wouldn’t risk it. They think we’re stone cold killers. And they wouldn’t risk doing anything, not unless their fearless leader did something first. “They wouldn’t come inside,” I say. “Not without the go ahead from whoever’s in charge of these people. They think we’re dangerous, remember?”

  Kenji nods, satisfied with my reason. “Be careful,” he says.

  I run off and I’m telling myself and convincing myself that they think we’re dangerous. We’ve killed their people. They’re afraid of us. That’s why they’re playing it smart and careful, surrounding us, forcing us to surrender. That’s why they haven’t rushed in here with their guns blazing. Even though they could do that, even though they should do that. The front door to this place is busted. Which means they could charge in here and we’d be overwhelmed in a heartbeat. The fact that they haven’t done this means they’re scared of us.

  Suddenly the scavengers’ fearless leader calls out to us. He is getting impatient. He is getting angry. “Hey, what’s taking so goddamn long? It shouldn’t take this long to figure out that surrendering is your only hope for surviving the night. I’m going to give you to the count of ten. I’m going to give you to the count of ten because I am unbelievably reasonable. After I count to ten, if you haven’t thrown down your weapons and crawled out here on your hands and knees, we’re going to unleash hell on you uncooperative bastards. Now to be clear, to be crystal clear, I don’t want to do this. Like I said, I am a very reasonable person once you get to know me, once you get on my good side. But I will totally and utterly destroy you if you force my hand.”

  Yeah, he’s getting impatient, getting angry. We need to hurry this up.

  I run for the office while Kenji jumps into the driver’s seat. Kim and Maria help Jack and Sarah into the back seats. I stupidly, recklessly and blindly open the door to the office. I do this because we’re in a bit of a hurry and I’ve convinced myself that we’re alone in this fire station. The office is dark. I feel my way along, feeling for a desk or the wall. Something I can use to get my bearings with.

  From behind me Kenji says, “Rebecca, come back. The keys are in the ignition.”

  So I stop and turn around and then I trip over. I trip over something big and heavy.

  A piece of metal.

  And it’s dark and it’s hard to see, impossible to see. I fumble around, feeling, searching. And then I realize the thing that I just tripped over is a sledgehammer.

  There’s a strange noise from behind me, deeper, further into the office. It’s a soft whimpering moan of pain.

  And then someone says, “Hello, sweet cheeks.”

  I know the voice.

  I will never forget his voice.

  It is Marko the Maniac.

  Someone has a torch. Marko. Ivan. I can’t tell. The flashlight is pointed at the ground. Shadows come to life. The killers appear bigger than they are. They appear as giants, as monsters from an ancient time. Marko has a knife in his hand and he is completely surprised and yet he has this happy look on his face, like a kid on Christmas morning who didn’t even know he was getting a shiny new bike from Santa.

  And again, apart from the giant hunting knife in his hand, I can’t get over the fact that he looks like such a normal guy. I mean, he looks unbelievably normal, verging on boring. But then he raises the knife and he points the sharp end at me and I am reminded instantly that he is not normal. I am reminded instantly that he is dangerous and deadly and one hundred percent certifiably insane.

  He says, “Look what we have here. This night is getting better by the second. Are you alone? Or did you bring your friends with you?”

  Behind Marko, Ivan has a man by the throat. I have no idea who this poor person is, but if I had to take a guess, I’d say he’s probably one of the scavengers, and maybe he was sneaking in here to get the drop on us. Maybe he was even here to kill us. And if that’s the case, then maybe I shouldn’t feel so sorry for him, but I can’t help it. I am only human and this poor bastard is suffering through an immeasurable amount of pain right now, and he’s most definitely about to be killed. And then depending on whether or not Marko feels like it, he might even be eaten.

  Ivan holds his victim up above his head and pushes him against the wall. He then drives a knife through his shoulder joint. Or through his chest. I can’t tell from where I’m sitting, from where I’m slowly crawling back on my hands and my ass, crawling back towards the fire truck and my friends.

  Ivan drives another knife through the man’s other shoulder, pinning him to the wall. The man is barely conscious, barely alive. He is too weak to scream. He just moans and whimpers.

  “Don’t run,” Marko says. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. I went to a lot of trouble to get those undead bastards out of this town. Now it’s time to have some fun. Now it’s time to make you pay for what you did to Billy. And for what you did to my beloved Boneyard. The place is a mess. Gonna take weeks to clean it up.”

  I’m crawling backwards and I say, “We didn’t… that wasn’t…”

  “What’s a matter, darlin? Stop stuttering and spit it out.”

  “We had nothing to do with Billy’s death. I tried to warn you…”

  And I stop talking, stop defending my actions because I am talking to Marko the Maniac and there is no point in reasoning with him.

  I turn and run for the door.

  “Thought I told you not to run?” Marko says.

  I ignore his advice. I turn tail and run as fast as I can.

  And Marko says, “Sure. That’s fine. Run all you want. I like the chase. I like the hunt. I bloody love this!”

  I know you do, you sick bastard.

  I r
esist the urge to say this out loud. I save my breath because I know I will need it. I make it back to the garage, to the fire truck. The engine starts before I’m even in, and for a second I feel like they’re going to leave without me. I jump up into the cab and Kim pulls me inside, slamming the door shut behind me.

  I sit up in the front passenger seat of the fire truck. “Go! Go! Go!”

  “What’s wrong?” Maria asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Marko is here! Ivan is here! They’re back there in the office. Go!”

  Kenji floors it, but the garage is not big enough for us to build up any speed, so it’s impossible to actually crash through the roller door on the first attempt. And as soon as Kenji starts inching the truck forward, pushing and nudging the roller door, we can hear gunshots from outside, more shotgun blasts.

  Tiny holes appear in the roller door as the truck pushes against it.

  “Get down!” Kenji says.

  We make sure we’re below the dashboard, even Kenji. He doesn’t need to see where he’s going at this point, he just needs to break this garage door down, just needs to drive right through it.

  Suddenly, Marko jumps up next to the passenger side window. He taps on the glass with his giant sized hunting knife. “Hey, you guys aren’t leaving without me, are you?”

  This man is an absolute psychopath and he’s having the time of his life. He was born for this world and all the messed up shit that’s going on. But he’s not stupid and as soon as another shotgun blasts hits the garage door, hits the front of the truck, he takes cover and he disappears.

  Kenji floors the accelerator once more. The engine roars and the garage door finally buckles and breaks. It completely comes loose, flying out into the street. And I know Kenji told us to duck down, told us to stay below the dashboard, but I can’t help myself. I need to know what were up against. I need to know who’s out there.

  Kenji turns the headlights on, lighting up the group of marauders, lighting up at least fifty people. Maybe more. A small crowd.

  Damn. There’s so many of them. Too many.

  Kim reaches over and switches the headlights on to high beam, blinding any shooters directly in front of us. We see these people scatter like roaches, like rats.

  All of them except one…

  He’s standing on the opposite side of the road, shotgun in his hand and what appears to be a sword strapped to his back. He’s wearing full motorbike leathers. A helmet that covers his face, the tinted visor is down. The garage door slides to a stop at his feet. But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t run. He doesn’t run even though every other single person is running.

  He raises the gun… takes a shot.

  And another shot.

  And another.

  The shotgun blasts spray into the front windshield, cracking the reinforced glass, shattering parts of it, splintering most, but not fully breaking it.

  Kenji begins to turn the massive steering wheel of the truck and slowly the truck responds. We swipe the gutter as we turn away from the man in the motorcycle gear, the man with the shotgun. I’m expecting more gunfire. I’m expecting the windshield and the windows to start breaking and shattering all around us. But it appears that he’s content to stop firing at us for the moment. Maybe he’s realized he’s better off saving his ammo. Or maybe he’s just toying with us. Maybe he just wants to scare us. Maybe he wants us to think we have a chance of escape.

  He rests his shotgun across his shoulders and he is unbelievably calm and composed. I can’t see his face or his eyes but I know he is staring at us, watching us.

  Kenji finally straightens the truck, the tires screeching and complaining as he does. He then drives it back into the middle of the road and we begin to pick up speed.

  Chapter 21

  “Which way?” Kenji asks. “Where do we go from here?”

  “Away,” I answer. “We need to get as far away from these people as possible.”

  “And away from Marko,” Jack says.

  “Yeah, and Marko.”

  And Ivan.

  Dammit. Once again we are surrounded by killers and cannibals and marauders. And I’m not even sure what’s worse anymore.

  The dead.

  The living.

  The Oz virus.

  The survivors.

  “I know a place,” Sarah says softly from the back. “Keep going. Past the walls. On the other side of town.”

  “Do you think they’ll follow us?” Maria asks.

  I check the large side mirrors of the fire truck, looking back. Can’t see much. They seem to have all taken cover. Wait. I see him. The man with the shotgun and the sword strapped to his back. He is standing in the middle of the road.

  Just standing there. Watching.

  He points towards us.

  I get chills.

  “They won’t follow us,” Kim says. “Not if they want to live.” She says this with menace in her voice. Hatred. Blood lust.

  I check the side mirrors again and now I see them all running and scrambling. It looks like they are re-grouping. Getting organized. Getting ready to chase.

  No, they wouldn’t.

  Yes, they would.

  And Kim is wrong because they will follow us and they are following us. Almost immediately, the bullets start flying, pinging into the back of the truck.

  “Damn. They’re more armed than we thought they were,” Kenji says as he begins zig-zagging down the road, trying his best to make us a harder target to hit.

  He drives into a whole row of parked cars, smashing into them, pushing them into the shop windows. The cars buckle and smash, glass shatters.

  “My bad,” he says, apologizing.

  “Don’t apologize!” Kim says. “Just keep driving!”

  “Yeah,” Maria chimes in. “Faster!”

  Kenji floors it again. There’s a small hatchback up ahead that’s been abandoned in the middle of the road. There’s no time to swerve, no time to get out and push it out of the way. Kenji drives straight for it. And taking Maria’s advice, he drives faster and faster. We collide with the small car, smashing straight into it, sending it spinning and flying away into the front of a building.

  “That was pretty cool,” Kim says.

  And I have to admit that yeah, that was pretty cool. It was almost as if the car was weightless, like a piece of cardboard. It looked unreal.

  More gunshots from behind bring my attention back to the fact that we are being chased by a gang of blood thirsty marauders. No time to admire Kenji’s demolition derby handiwork. It’s time to focus. These people are determined to capture us and make us pay for killing their friends. And there’s a part of me that can totally understand their motivation.

  “They’re coming,” Kim says, looking at the side mirror. “They’re coming fast.”

  “Where?” Kenji asks. “How many.”

  “There’s two vehicles. Two motorbikes. No wait. One’s an ATV.”

  “A what?” I ask.

  “All Terrain Vehicles,” Kim answers. “Although I think one of them is a kind of dune buggy.”

  “Where are they?” Kenji asks.

  “Lost one. It must be directly behind you.”

  A volley of gunfire into the back of the truck confirms this.

  “The other one is on your left,” I say. “It’s trying to get past you. It’s trying to get in front.”

  Once they’re in front, they’ll turn around and open fire on us. And even though the windshield is strong and reinforced, it won’t last forever, can’t possibly last forever.

  Kenji swerves to the left and then the right, zig-zagging once again, making it almost impossible for them to pass us. I have no idea how he’s keeping control of the truck. The ATV makes a daring attempt at trying to pass us.

  Kenji sees them immediately.

  He swerves, forcing the ATV off the road, onto the side walk and into the buildings that line the road, destroying the vehicle and probably killing the driver and passenger. Th
e dune buggy then eases off. It moves back, content to follow us form a safe distance.

  Kenji swears. “We’ll never lose them in this. We’re not fast enough.”

  “So what the hell are we supposed to do?” I ask.

  And everyone else seems to lean forward, super interested in whatever Kenji has in mind.

  “I’m not sure,” he says a few seconds later. “Maybe we can lure them some place.”

  “And then what?” Maria says.

  “We do what has to be done,” Kim answers.

  “How many bullets do we have?” I ask.

  “A handful,” Kenji says. “Enough for the job.”

  Kenji then turns a hard right, swerving dangerously out of control. The truck slides and drifts and for a second it feels like we’re going to tip over. Kenji slams on the brakes and we do a complete 180-degree spin.

  We are now facing back the way we came. And our pursuers are coming straight for us.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I ask.

  “No time to lure them away from the others,” Kenji says. “We’re too slow. We need to take care of them right now if we want any chance of getting away.”

  Kim reaches into the back and hands Kenji a rifle. He takes it and checks the weapon quickly.

  Kenji jumps out of the truck. “Everyone stay down.”

  He then slides under the truck, disappearing from view.

  “You can’t do this by yourself,” I say.

  “Rebecca, stay in the truck,” he calls back to me. “And stay down!”

  I ignore Kenji’s advice and I grab the other rifle and jump out. I sprint for a shop front across the road. The front window of the shop has been shattered. I make sure I’m concealed and hidden. I make sure I can dive for cover if they return fire.

  The dune buggy comes around the corner and as soon as they see the truck, they come to a stop.

  Kenji kills the driver immediately and then shoots out the front tires. The other passengers scatter immediately, shooting as they take cover, firing directly at the front of the fire truck. Kenji rolls over, hiding behind the tires.

  I take aim, fire, doing my best to draw some attention away from Kenji. The men chasing us begin to shout at each other, they begin to panic. They weren’t expecting this. They weren’t expecting Kenji. Suddenly, a volley of gunfire smashes into the pavement directly in front of the shop. I move deeper inside, away from the street, taking cover. But while they’re shooting at me, they’re not shooting at Kenji. And this brief moment of respite, this brief distraction gives him all the time he needs to take care of them.