by Victor Zugg
Sam saw the passenger take one in the right shoulder. He dropped the rifle and fell back into the seat. The rifle bounced twice and ended up in the gutter next to where a man and woman on the sidewalk dove for cover. The Chevy slowed and fell back as Sam raced on.
Chet yelled over the sound of the engine and the wind, “Let’s try a left at the next major intersection; maybe it will take us back to the interstate.”
“You read my mind,” Sam yelled back.
Tiff spun back around to face forward but kept her rifle at the ready. People up and down the sidewalk fixated on the buggy as it sped by.
“Intersection coming up,” Chet shouted.
Sam slowed a bit.
As they entered the intersection Tiff scooted forward in her seat. “The sign says Archer. I think it’s a main drag through town.” She glanced back. “And as a side note, the Chevy is still behind us—but hanging back.”
At the highest speed possible, Sam swerved around several stalled cars, yanked the wheel to the left, and accelerated through the turn.
Chet looked back. “What are we going to do about the guys back there?”
Sam glanced in the mirror. “They’re apparently not giving up and we can’t outrun them.” He glanced to the right and jerked the wheel sending the buggy in that direction. Sam sped through a Taco Bell parking lot and screeched to a stop behind the building. Sam was surprised there were no people around.
Sam, Chet, and Tiff leaped out of the buggy, rifles in hand, and ran to the back corner of the building. Sam carefully peered around the edge, making sure not to expose his body. Within a couple of seconds, he heard the Chevy’s engine approach the intersection and saw the car make the left turn. As the car sped by, Sam saw the four men inside. The passenger was pressing a rag to his right shoulder and his face was ashen. The driver had a determined expression on his face, apparently, hell-bent on catching the buggy. The two men in the back each held a semi-automatic rifle.
“They just went by. Two ARs in the back seat. The front passenger is wounded.”
Sam, followed by Chet and Tiff, ran back to the buggy and hopped in. Sam eased the buggy around the building and back on to Archer heading west behind the Chevy.
Chet glanced at Sam. “Looks like I’m up.”
“You are,” Sam replied.
The Chevy was a block up maneuvering around stalled vehicles. Sam was able to close the gap quickly as Chet leaned out his window and aimed his rifle. When the buggy was within two hundred feet of the Chevy, Chet let loose with ten quick rounds. Hot brass spewed from the ejection port. The jacketed hollow points peppered the rear window of the Chevy. Everyone in the car ducked except the guy in the right rear seat. His head, lifeless, drooped to the side and rested against the door frame. The Chevy suddenly veered sharply left and smashed into a stalled Prius. The driver and left rear passenger bailed out just as the buggy screeched to a stop fifty feet short. Sam, Chet, and Tiff leaped out, rifles in hand, and took up positions behind stalled cars. All three opened up on the two men before they could find cover. They went down. Sam, Chet, and Tiff ceased firing. Sam and Chet, with rifles shouldered and on target, stepped from their cover and moved forward. Sam glanced back to see Tiff facing to their rear, sweeping her rifle side to side in a wide arc, covering their rear and flanks. The few people on the sidewalks ducked into storefronts.
The two men, both in their 20s and covered with tattoos, were sprawled on the asphalt, lifeless. Blood began to pool beside their bodies. The right front passenger, still in his seat and still holding his shoulder, just stared with dark eyes. Pain etched his face.
While covering the passenger, Sam moved around to the right side of the car and opened the front passenger door. Sam grabbed the man—also in his twenties and covered with tattoos—by his right injured arm and dragged him from the car. The man screamed in agony. Sam kicked the man’s legs from under him causing him to crumple to the asphalt. Sam planted his foot on the man’s chest and pointed the rifle at his head.
“You’re dead,” the man hissed.
Sam looked around, then at his rifle, and then back to the man on the ground. “Do you see something I don’t?”
Chet joined Sam and pointed his rifle at the man on the ground. “Yeah, do you see something we don’t?”
Sam stepped to the Chevy and opened the right rear passenger door. The man in the seat had a large exit wound in his throat. Sam then walked back around the Chevy to the front and pumped three shots into the grill. Water began pouring from underneath. He then joined Chet on the right side of the car and bent down to check inside the front passenger area. He stepped back to the rear door, looked inside again, reached over the dead man, and stood up holding a green ammo can in his left hand. He set the can on the asphalt and flipped open the lid.
“Five-five-six, we can use it.”
While keeping his rifle on the man, Chet stepped backward and glanced at the ammo. Sam kept one eye on the man on the ground while he watched Chet pick up and examine each of the rifles used by the tattooed men.
“We already have better,” Chet mumbled, as he tossed each of the rifles onto the top of a nearby building.
Sam nodded and motioned with the barrel of his rifle toward the man on the ground. “What about this guy?”
Chet glanced over at the man. “He’s not going anywhere, at least not in this car.”
Sam kicked the man’s foot. “Your lucky day.”
The man glared without saying a word as Sam and Chet backed away. They turned and joined Tiff who was still sweeping their rear.
“Time to leave,” Sam said in a calm voice.
All three hopped back in the buggy. Sam placed his rifle on the floor next to Chet’s leg and started the engine. He shifted the lever to first gear, gave it some gas, and pulled away. The one tattooed man remaining alive was on his feet and spit on the asphalt as the buggy passed by.
The overpass for the interstate was in sight about a mile down the road. Sam weaved around the few stalled cars on the roadway and was able to keep up a moderate speed. Stores and businesses of all kinds lined both sides of the street. Looting was evident. The whole area was alive with people who all stared as the buggy passed. Sam glanced at Chet and smiled as they passed a group of people hauling TVs and other electronics from a Best Buy store.
“Dumbasses don’t have a clue,” Chet said.
Tiff stuck her head between Sam and Chet. “I actually feel sorry for these people.”
“I guess,” Sam said, as he glanced at Tiff. “In a few days this place will look like a hurricane tore through—and then it will be a ghost town when all the food is gone.”
Tiff dropped her head a bit. “I’m getting really worried about my parents.”
Sam twisted the wheel for the on-ramp without slowing and then accelerated when he merged with the right lane of the interstate. “Where exactly are they in Ohio?”
“Lebanon, about fifteen miles northeast of Cincinnati—it’s a small town, but people from the city will be heading out and Lebanon is directly in the path.”
“House or apartment,” Chet chimed in.
“Small house. It’s just the two of them. Before the storm hit and we still had power that night, I told them to go get as much food and water as possible. It was late but Walmart was open.”
“Any other family up there?” Sam asked.
“No, I have aunts, uncles, and cousins, but they’re all out west, mostly in Colorado. Mom and Dad never wanted to move. I actually grew up in that house.”
Sam was able to cruise up the interstate, slowing only occasionally to navigate stalled cars in the middle of the road.
Chet glanced at Tiff, “You seem like the lucky type, I’m sure they are too. Surviving this thing for any length of time will take a lot of luck.”
“I’m not sure that makes me feel any better but thanks.”
“As long as they hunker down they’ll be fine,” Sam added.
Chet turned in his seat. “Wha
t do you plan to do when you get there?”
“Whatever I need to—beyond that I don’t really have a plan. What about you guy, any family?”
Sam spoke up first. “I have a brother. He lives in an apartment in St. Louis. I have no doubt he will be trying to make his way over to our cabin outside of Knoxville at some point. That’s where we’re headed. My parents are dead and I’ve lost touch with cousins and such.”
“Other than his brother I’m pretty much his family,” Chet interjected. “We actually grew up together in Orlando. As for my family, parents died years ago, no brothers or sisters, and I’ve lost touch with everyone else.”
Tiff laughed. “And you guys just plan to hole up in your cabin and wait this thing out?
“That’s pretty much the plan,” Sam replied. “We have plenty of water, food can be had from the land, and the place is well built and defendable.”
“How big is your cabin?”
“Two bedrooms, one bath, kitchen, small family room, separate garage. I already have it stocked pretty well, assuming no one squats on the property before we get there.”
“I’ve been there several times with Sam,” Chet added. “It’s isolated. Nearest neighbor is half a mile away. And it’s hard to find if you don’t know where you’re going.”
“Sounds perfect, can’t wait to see it,” Tiff offered.
“Me too,” Sam said.
Chet pointed with his thumb into the bed, “If you’ll hand me the food bag I brought we can have lunch.”
Tiff moved a couple of items to get to the bag and then handed it to Chet. He pulled out a block of sharp cheddar cheese, a log of salami, a box of crackers, and a small aluminum camp plate. He reached to his side and produced a Bark River Mini Kephart fixed blade knife, began slicing the cheese and salami, and placed the pieces on the plate. When finished, he moved the plate, piled high with cheese and salami, to the buggy’s center console. Tiff handed a bottle of water to each of the men. Chet opened the box of crackers, took one, placed a piece of cheese and a piece of salami on top, and popped the whole thing in his mouth.
“Dig in,” he mumbled with his mouth full.
CHAPTER 6
“Any chance for a potty break,” Tiff asked.
“Why not,” Sam said. He slowed the buggy and pulled to a stop in the shade of an underpass. “We’re about thirty miles from Lake City.”
Tiff jumped out, walked forward and around the abutment, through the grassy verge, hopped the fence with one hand, and disappeared into the trees.
After a couple of minutes, Chet opened his door and slid out. “Might as well take advantage of the stop.”
Sam nodded and relaxed in his seat as Chet walked a few feet behind the buggy. Sam heard him unzip his pants and begin to pee. Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened his eyes a few seconds later he saw Tiff come around the corner of the abutment. She stopped, stared at Chet, and placed her hands on her hips.
“Really! At least I had the courtesy to go in the trees,” Tiff said. She then continued to the buggy and leaned against the rear on Sam’s side, with her back to Chet. “I’m beginning to wonder about the company you keep,” she said to Sam.
Sam glanced in the mirror and saw that Chet did not skip a beat. He continued peeing. Eyes closed. Smirk on his face.
“Uh-huh, but he can be entertaining,” Sam said, as he opened his door and slid out. “Might as well make it a hat-trick.” He started walking away toward the rear. Sam shook his head in mock disgust as he passed Chet.
Just before Sam went around the abutment he heard Tiff say, “See, not that hard to be a gentleman.”
“Sam’s an officer and a gentleman, I’m just a lowly old grunt, can’t be helped. So don’t think you need to go in the trees for my sake.”
As Sam jumped the fence he heard Tiff say, “I’ll try to use the word gentleman sparingly around you.”
Sam lost their conversation as he stepped into the trees.
***
Tiff jumped in the bed of the buggy while Chet opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. “Might as well give Sam a break from driving.”
They sat without making a sound. Chet had his eyes closed apparently enjoying the light breeze blowing through the underpass. A couple of minutes had passed when Tiff heard a soft scuff on the asphalt behind her. Thinking it was Sam returning, she didn’t turn around to look—until she realized the sound was from the left rear instead of the right rear. She jerked her head around but too late to prevent a large man with a beard from grabbing her from behind in a bear hug. She screamed as the man lifted her out of the buggy with her arms pinned to her sides. She looked to Chet for help.
Chet whipped his head around, but only to face a second middle-aged man wearing one earring who raced up pointing a large nineteen-eleven style pistol at his head. Chet faced front and slowly raised his hands. “Like they say in the movies, let us go on our way and I won’t kill you,” he said softly.
The man let out a laugh and moved to the driver’s door. “Yeah, like they say in the movies, kill me! I’m the one with the gun, remember.” He then jammed the end of the barrel against Chet’s head. “Ooh, sorry, that might leave a mark.”
“What do you want?” Chet asked, obviously trying to remain calm.
The gunman laughed again. “We want it all of course, especially the girl. You, we can do without.” The man motioned with his gun for Chet to get out of the buggy. Chet kept his left hand in the air, opened the door with his right, stepped out, and then raised his right hand again.
Tiff struggled with the bearded man who still had her in a bear hug. She was immediately struck with two impressions: he was strong and he stunk. The man switched to a one arm hold while he removed her XDs from its holster and placed the gun on the floor in the back of the buggy. He then resumed a two-arm hold around her body with her feet off the ground. Tiff violently jerked her head back trying to catch the man’s nose, but she only caught the empty air behind her. The man had his head to one side. Tiff adjusted her aim and tried again but he was able to move his head before Tiff could connect.
Tiff saw the gunman motion for Chet to turn around. The man took Chet’s Glock from its holster and his knife from its sheath. Tiff saw the man draw back with his pistol and clunk Chet in the back of the head. Chet crumpled to the ground.
The man then turned to the bearded man and Tiff. Tiff struggled harder. “Get control of that bitch!”
“Bitch is right, she’s already tried to crack me in the face with her head twice,” the bearded man responded.
At that moment Tiff caught some motion in the corner of her eye and turned her head to see. Sam walked around the corner of the abutment—with his hands in the air. A third man, wearing a red ball cap, walked behind holding a revolver pointed at Sam’s back. Sam’s M&P and his fixed blade knife were stuck in the man’s waistband.
“I caught this one with his dick in his hand.” Ball Cap said.
Sam walked to the back of the buggy, stopped, and turned to face Tiff, still in the man’s arms. “Chet?”
“Dip shit over there conked him in the back of the head,” Tiff said with a sneer.
Sam faced Ball Cap. “Mind if I check on him?”
“I do mind—stay right where you’re standing.” The man’s voice was even and direct, as though he was used to people doing what he said.
“Okay, you seem to be in charge here, now what?” Sam asked.
“Now you do exactly what I tell you,” Ball Cap replied. “Start by getting some cord or rope from your jeep.”
Sam rummaged in the back of the buggy and came up with the parachute cord.
Ball Cap took the roll and handed it to the earring man, “Tie all three up real good.”
The earring man took the roll, stuck his pistol in a holster on his side, and walked back to Chet. He rolled Chet on his stomach and tied his hands behind his back, feet together, and then pulled his hands and feet together in a hogtie.
; Ball Cap motioned his revolver at Sam. “On the ground and on your stomach.”
Sam did as he was told. The earring man tied Sam the same way he tied Chet.
Ball Cap then motioned to Tiff. “Tie her hands behind her back and put her in the jeep.”
The earring man did as he was told with a little help from the bearded man.
Once she was tied, the two men lifted her into the back of the buggy. The bearded man jumped in with her. Ball Cap slid into the driver’s seat while the earring got in the passenger’s seat.
Tiff wiggled in the back trying to free her hands but the cord was too tight. There was nothing she could do except look back at Sam and Chet as the buggy pulled away.
The buggy immediately swung left, crossed the northbound lanes, the median, the southbound lanes, and entered the trees on the other side of the interstate through an opening in the fence.
Tiff felt the cord constrict around her wrists and her hands going numb. She began to feel pinpricks in her fingertips as they starved for blood. She glanced at her XDs, still on the floor, but there was nothing she could do to get it. She glanced at the bearded man to her left and the two up front. She thought about how these three were at the opposite ends of the universe compared to Sam and Chet. There must have been some inbreeding involved when these guys were conceived. And for them, it all went downhill from there. Despite her determination and her years of marine training, the way out of this predicament wasn’t immediately apparent. As she bounced along on the rutted path through the trees, a wave of dread, mixed with intense anxiety, washed through her mind. She took deep breaths to get control and keep her mind focused.
Tiff knew what these guys intended. Although never raped, she had come close once—by someone she knew and thought she cared about. It wasn’t until she and the man started an actual relationship that his true colors showed. She knew he was the jealous type but didn’t know how deeply insecure he really was until one night she came in late from being out with a couple of girlfriends. The guy flew into a rage. Accused her of having an affair. Tiff recalled the man’s veins in his neck popping and his face a deep red as he screamed in her face. When he ripped her blouse open and pushed her to the sofa, Tiff fought back. He was stronger and larger, but Tiff got lucky with a knee to his groin. That gave her the time she needed to get away. She joined the marines within a week and was gone a short time later. She often counted her blessings that she never married the guy.