Against All Odds (Book 1): As We Fall

by Hunt, Jack

  “Get in, Sam,” Chase said from the driver’s seat. He hopped in and slammed the door and Chase jammed the gearstick into reverse and tore out of there, nearly taking down a sign. The side mirror clipped it and came off with a loud bang.

  Mason glared at him but was too busy dealing with Lisa’s over-the-top drama to get into an argument with him. “I’m going to bleed to death.”

  “Ah it’s nothing but a nick,” Mason said.

  “A nick? A nick?” She wailed.

  Sam gave Chase directions and then twisted in his seat to see what all the hollering was about. Mason had torn her pant leg open to reveal a small flesh wound. Sure, it had drawn blood but she was acting like she’d taken one to the chest. He shook his head. She should have seen some of the wounds he’d witnessed on the battlefield in the Middle East. It would have turned her stomach. They headed northwest up Sloansville Road at a high rate of speed trying to put distance between them and the gas station. By now the sun had dipped behind the trees and what little daylight was left had been squeezed out to a blur of orange on the horizon.

  “I want to stop.”

  “We can’t stop,” Sam said.

  “Let me out,” Lisa demanded.

  Chase swerved off to the side of the road, and slammed the brakes on. A plume of dust and grit enveloped the truck as Lisa got out and began vomiting. Mason placed a hand on her back but she just swatted him off. Sam looked around, there were a few buildings off in the distance but he couldn’t quite make out what they were. For the most part it was just wide-open space, lots of fields, farmland.

  “I’m not going another minute. I’m tired. I’m hungry. And I need to treat this wound,” Lisa bellowed.

  Mason threw his hands up. “Fine. Okay. You don’t need to yell.”

  He turned back to the others and looked at Sam.

  “We should get out of the open.” He pointed to the group of buildings he’d seen. “We’ll head there.”

  TWELVE - THE FUTURE

  A few miles back near the Charleston Four Corners, Jeremy Maddox sat in the Stockyard Public House, knocking back his third beer and staring down at a map of the area. The building was a one-story, all-wood bar and restaurant that had been there for as long as he could remember. He’d grown up in Sprakers, New York, and lived there until he was twenty-two — that was before his eight-year stint inside for involvement in a string of home burglaries and kidnapping. In his mind he hadn’t kidnapped anyone. Sure, he’d broken into a trailer and held a man against his will but that was because he owed him money.

  The court didn’t see it that way.

  Behind him, four of his closest friends, guys he’d grown up with, played a game of pool, smoked weed and enjoyed the privileges that came with living in the armpit of America. He’d been out of prison just over a year, and for a while he thought his life would amount to nothing but working nine to five for some asshole down at the auto wreckers, getting drunk on weekends and letting loose behind the wheel of a derby car. That was until the lights went out, and all communication went down.

  For the first twenty-four hours it just seemed like a pain in the ass and then the cogs in his mind began turning and instead of seeing it as an inconvenience he began to look at it as an opportunity. It all happened so quickly. The liquor store break-in, the cop who’d put him behind bars showing up, no means of communication to get back up. It was like life had offered him a way to put things right, and he did — with a bullet straight through that cop’s head. He’d spent eight years sitting behind bars thinking about what he would do to him if given the chance.

  Well, it had been over a day since his death and no one had been out asking questions. What little police they had in the area had been drawn away to the bigger towns and cities, those that remained were so overwhelmed that they hadn’t seen them since. Now he was thinking about the future, his future, and the way forward in a world that wasn’t controlled by restrictive laws, or by unjust courts.

  “What you got there?” Wayne asked him, straddling one of the chairs and swigging his beer.

  “The future, Wayne. The future.”

  He shook his head, confused. Jeremy hadn’t discussed it with them but he was already thinking about how they could use this event for their benefit. Of course he wasn’t stupid, he’d give it a week or two before he started throwing his weight around. The cop’s death? That was just justice. Evening the score. Payback. Vengeance.

  He was about to share some of his ideas when the main doors burst open and Gabe came stumbling in. He collapsed on the ground, sweating, out of breath and gripping a bloodied thigh.

  “They shot her.”

  Jeremy hopped off the stool and hurried over, dropping down to a knee, then glancing at the door. “What the hell happened?”

  Gabe struggled to spit the words out. He was groaning in pain and his skin had gone pale. “Wayne, get some water, towels, quick!” He turned back to Gabe. “Where is Archer?”

  “Back at the station.”

  “What were you doing there?”

  “He wanted to stop.”

  “But I told you…”

  “I know but he wouldn’t listen. They shot Katie.”

  Panic crept over him, and he jumped up and told Wayne to take care of that while he and the other three went to see what was going on. He scooped up his AR-15 and double-timed it out. He climbed in through the open window of the demolition derby 1968 Chrysler Imperial. It was black and white, and had the words NASTY HABIT sprayed down the side of it in neon orange. The car belonged to Archer. From the time they could drive both of them had spent their days involved in the sport. It was addictive and wild, two things that he felt at home in. Nick, Sean and Toby climbed into a blue ’76 Chevy Impala, a white Chevy wagon and tore out of the lot at a high rate of speed. It took less than five minutes to arrive. Jeremy skidded into the lot and took in the sight of broken glass, blood and Katie’s limp body on the ground. She’d been dating Archer for four years; they were planning on getting hitched next year.

  “Archer!” he yelled as he bolted over to Katie to check her vitals.

  As soon as he saw the hole in her head, he rushed into the station, raking his rifle from side to side. “Archer!”

  Then he saw him. He lowered his rifle and dashed over, dropping to his knees and lifting his head into his arms. “No. No. NO!” His voice echoed as he ran his hand over his face, and his eyes teared up. Archer had been his kid brother, the only kin he had and the only one he gave a shit about. Their mother had kicked out their father a long time ago after he’d beaten her up multiple times. She’d died four years later from a drug overdose, back when he was still inside. He couldn’t even get out to go to her funeral.

  And now this.

  He turned his head at the sound of the others entering the station.

  They looked on with solemn faces, their chins dropped.

  Jeremy rocked back and forth holding Archer tight.

  He wasn’t sure how long he knelt beside him, only that when he was ready to get up the tears on his face had dried.

  Nick stepped in to give him a hand but he waved him off. “I’ll do it,” Jeremy said, scooping up Archer’s lifeless body and carrying him outside. He told Sean and Toby to take back Katie’s body as he placed his brother into the rear seat. Jeremy scanned the area for further threats before heading back in to retrieve his rifle.

  Whatever hesitation he had about his future plans, it all ended there that night.

  The building they broke into that night was a golf and country club just on the outskirts of Rural Grove State Forest. It was a two-story brown building with a stone foundation, and a patio out front with tables and chairs. Several golf carts were lined up against the wall as Chase eased off the gas outside. There were no homes nearby and it was slightly off the beaten path, which made it an ideal spot to hunker down for the night. While there had been some homes along the way, the chance of them running into more trouble there was higher than approaching an
empty golf club. At this time of night on a regular day no one would have been there but with the lights out, they didn’t expect anyone would show up.

  Mason broke a window and they entered that way. The place had alarms but with no power, it was quiet. Lisa had Mason go around and open the door, as she wasn’t going to clamber through a window. She hobbled in milking it for all it was worth, leaning on the arm of Chase as though she had been in some major disaster.

  Inside it was clean, tidy, and tables were set with plates, cutlery and glasses. On the far side of the room, white cloth covered a long table which held a large steel buffet set. The walls and columns were wood paneling, and the counters made from granite. Seeing the buffet trays only made Sam’s stomach grumble. He knew there was nothing inside but that didn’t stop him from looking.

  They dropped their backpacks and looked for a place to settle in for the night. Sam headed off to look around for a bathroom, to get out of his clothes. He planned on using soap from a dispenser and one of the bottles of water to clean his body. He stank to high heaven and all he wanted to do was get clean.

  He shone his flashlight down the corridor and Chase followed him.

  “Hey, you think they might have something to eat in this place?”

  “Go out to the truck and get something.”

  “That’s not food. That’s snacks.”

  “It’s something. Get used to it. Your days of being served a la carte steak at Harvard are long over.”

  Chase laughed. “Is that really what you think they served up?” He snorted. “It couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  Sam pushed into a bathroom and took off his backpack, and began stripping down to his waist. Chase entered a stall and took a piss. “One thing is for sure, it won’t be long before the United States smells like a cow farm. With no running water everyone is going to have to do their business out in the fields like farmyard animals.”

  “You can still flush, just get a bucket of water from the stream and fill up the tank.”

  Chase cast a glance over his shoulder. “Well aren’t you just a wealth of information.” He zipped up and came out to find Sam washing under his pits, and then pouring water over his head.

  Water pooled around his boots on the tiled floor.

  “Almost forty-eight hours into this and I’m already missing hot showers. But you must be used to this, being as you probably spent the majority of your time in disease-infested waters killing insurgents.”

  Sam laughed; the kid had no idea.

  Though one thing he’d been right about was he was used to living in the uncomfortable.

  “Your parents. Did you speak to them before the lines went down?” Sam asked.

  “A day before, yeah.”

  “You from a big family?” Sam asked.

  “Six brothers, three sisters.”

  “Whoa. Didn’t your family know about contraceptives?” Sam said, as he finished drying himself off with paper towels.

  Chase leaned against the wall. “I just hope they’re all okay.”

  Sam looked into the mirror and ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. He ran a hand through his thick, dark wavy hair. He took after his father who had a full head of hair long into his sixties.

  “So how well do you know my daughter?” he asked.

  “Probably better than you. No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “She ever say much about me?”

  “Not really. It’s not like we hang out much. We took a couple of classes together and shared the same dorm building but beyond that everyone kind of kept their noses in their books. However she did mention you were a bit of a dick.”

  Sam cast a glance. “She’s probably right.”

  Anyone who said they weren’t was lying. At least that’s the way he saw it. Catch a person at the right time of the day and anyone could be a jerk.

  Chase patted him on the back. “I’m kidding. But really, what’s your deal? Did you not get on with her mother?”

  “It’s a long story,” Sam said slipping back in his clothes. “And I’d prefer to not go into it.”

  Once he was dressed he headed out to join the others. Mason had tended to Lisa’s wound and patched it up using the first-aid kit, while Anna wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  “Where’s Anna?”

  “I thought she was with you,” Mason said, rising to his feet.

  Sam dropped his bag and called out to her as he made his way over to the window. Before he reached it she replied, “I’m right here.” He turned to find her walking back into the room holding packages of food in her hands. She tossed it down on the ground. “I’ve got dinner for the evening.”

  In the middle of the room were several packages of steak, and sausages.

  “Found them in the freezer out back.”

  Chase screwed up his nose. “We can’t eat that. It’s probably gone off.”

  Anna crouched down and lifted up one and tossed it to him. “They’re not frozen anymore but they’re still cold. I figure they’re good for another day or two.”

  Chase looked at Sam as if seeking validation.

  He shrugged. “Don’t look at me. You’d be surprised at what I will eat.”

  Mason came over and patted Chase on the back. “It’s only been two days without power. Meat that’s kept in a freezer won’t go off in two days. Surely they taught you that at Harvard.”

  Anna laughed and Chase went slightly red in the face.

  “Now how we are gonna cook this up?” Lisa asked.

  “I got just the thing,” Mason said jogging over to the window and heading out to the truck. He returned a few minutes later with several cans of Sterno, a small Billy pot and a few packets of coffee.

  “What the hell is that?” Chase asked.

  He held it up. “That, my friend, is fuel in a can. You can thank me later,” Mason said, dropping down and taking out of a package a Sterno folding stove. “I’d been meaning to use this on my next camping trip.” He smiled as he went about setting it up. “Ladies, why don’t you go put your feet up? Leave this to me.”

  Lisa scoffed. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you eager to cook.”

  “That’s because you never let me in the damn kitchen.”

  “You make too much of a mess,” she replied.

  “I would have cleaned it up at the end but oh no, that wasn’t good enough. I had to clean as I went.” He shook his head and then filled the pot with some water from the bottles and boiled it up. The country club had enough cutlery, cups and plates that they didn’t have to worry about that. Mason set the Sterno under the foldable stove and set the pot on top to boil the water. While he handled dinner for the evening, Sam headed out front to conceal the truck. Although he didn’t think they would get any company, and it was now too damn dark to see anything, he wasn’t taking any chances.

  He fired up the truck and drove it around the side of the building beneath a cluster of trees, then got out and used the hunting knife he’d taken from Gabe to cut down some branches and cover it up. Once done, he stepped back and shone the flashlight over it just to make sure it was well concealed. He then spent the next ten minutes walking around the perimeter checking out where the exits were and what the building backed on to. The golf course was off to the left; there was a creek to his right and beyond that was the state forest. He had been standing there for a few minutes looking out, soaking in the quiet, when he heard her.

  “Hey,” Anna said.

  Sam turned and smiled. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Mason is cooking up a storm back there. I didn’t want to get in the way.” She observed the truck and then looked at him. “Back there, at the station. Were you scared?”

  Sam hesitated. He knew most people thought that military guys were supposed to be fearless, immune to shocking sights and dangerous situations but that was all nonsense. He had yet to meet anyone who wasn’t terrified a bit. Fear wasn’t the issue. Not taking action in the face of
it was the problem. That’s what separated those who did what few would. “Yeah, I was.” He didn’t elaborate. People who asked such questions didn’t want to feel alone in their feelings. He had nothing to prove. She nodded and looked out across the field.

  “You think you can show me how to fire one of those?” she said pointing to the gun in his holster.

  He smiled. “I’d be glad to.”

  Over the course of the next fifteen minutes he began taking her through some of the basics of grip, stance, breathing and how to load, unload and shoot. Watching her fire off rounds brought a smile to his face. Although he knew fear was why she’d asked, somewhere in his mind he liked to think that a part of her wanted to have something in common with him.

  THIRTEEN - FORE

  Mason was in a deep sleep when Sam woke him. He blinked hard, taking in the world around him. Faint bands of light from the rising sun filtered in through the windows. He could feel the warmth of it on his face and for the first time since the whole event he felt relaxed. However, it didn’t last.

  “Get up, we’ve got company,” Sam said in a hushed voice.

  “What?”

  Sam moved on to the rest of them before Mason had a chance to question him further. They’d taken cushions from a fireplace lounge area and spread them out so they didn’t have to deal with the hard floor. Mason sat up and rubbed the back of his head before scooping up his rifle. Although he was used to getting up early for his work, the previous day’s stressful events had taken a lot out of him. He groaned rising to his feet.

  “Sam, what’s going on?” Mason said hurrying over to the window to join him. Sam didn’t need to explain. Outside there were four demolition derby vehicles parked at various angles, and several armed men. What was peculiar was one of them was holding a golf club in his hand and looked to be practicing his swing while the others stood nearby. The one with the golf club was around six foot three, bulky, with a white V-neck shirt that exposed a chest tattoo. He was wearing a jean jacket, sandy khaki pants, military boots and his brown hair was tied back. He had a chiseled jaw, and was wearing numerous silver rings. The others looked like your run-of-the-mill American, clean-cut guys, late twenties, some wore baseball caps, others had beanies on, all of them were packing military-style rifles.