Dux Bellorum (Future History of America Book 3)

by Marcus Richardson

  "Okay."

  The hope Erik had that Brin would try to strike up further conversation died with that one word. He shrugged and left his gas can as she plugged the hole in the Impala's gas tank and poured the contents of the little container into the big one. He walked across the distance to the Jeep Cherokee that sat with its driver's side pinned against the guard rail. The only sound that reached his ears were his own footsteps and the scrape of plastic on gravel as Brin switched containers again.

  He looked around and seeing no movement, risked a glance over the concrete barricade on the median. No one was hiding there, but he did find nice piles of windblown trash. He shook his head and went back to the Jeep. The tinted rear windows revealed little of what was inside.

  He opened the passenger door and a stench hit him so powerful it caused him to back up gagging. His eyes watered and he dropped to his hands and knees, unsure if he needed to throw up or cough.

  Brin jumped to her feet and raced over. "You okay?"

  As the odor hit her, she stumbled backward, her gasoline soaked hands in front of her face. "Dear God, what the hell is that?"

  Erik coughed again and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he rose to his feet. "There's gotta be a dead guy in there…" He walked up and shut the door with his rifle stock. It didn't do much to stop the odors that already escaped, but he could at least breathe.

  "That was the nasty."

  "Yeah," Brin chuckled. "You're on your own with this."

  Erik stood there for a second watching her jog back to the Impala. He tried to ignore the foul stench of death around him and watched his wife's lithe form across the road. He missed her touch. He missed watching her without being worried that his eyes would start a fight. He missed the sound of her laughter.

  He missed his wife.

  Erik steeled himself and decided the best course of action would be to open the Jeep's rear hatch and let it air out while he worked on other cars. As he stepped back, he saw Brin signal the tank on the Impala was empty. She held up one empty gas jug and trotted toward another car.

  Erik walked around the back of the Jeep and tore open the door while quickly spinning away to avoid the foulness that billowed out. As his eyes watered, he watched Brin slither under the rear bumper of a Ford Escape and line up the screwdriver on the edge of its gas tank.

  She swung the hammer and hit her screwdriver three times before puncturing the tank. She pulled it out fast and slid the small fuel tank under it. A stream of gas immediately poured out into the small container.

  Flashing him a smile and the thumbs-up sign, Erik felt…something. It wasn't relief—he knew from previous experience that even though she was happy this second, the next she might be mad. He offered a half-smile and shook his head, turning back to his task.

  Focus. It's still a long way to New York.

  He took one more look around the surroundings to confirm there was nothing moving besides birds and squirrels. Holding his nose, Erik peered inside the Jeep. There was a suitcase and a few small bags in the back. Resolving himself to check out the treasure when they were ready to leave, he made his way over to the next car.

  His next target was an old Buick, the driver's door already cracked open. He walked around it. Though he peered in through the windows and found it unoccupied, he still cautiously sniffed before he opened the rear door. Inside was a purse. He opened it up and found nothing but useless junk: keys, melted lipstick, pens, pencils, some paper, and breath mints.

  Sighing, he tossed the purse aside and quickly rummaged through the back of the vehicle. Finding nothing other than a flashlight with weak batteries, he popped the trunk. Inside, he was rewarded with a homemade emergency roadside kit. Erik glanced around, relieved there was still no movement on the road.

  He shouldered his rifle and explored the kit. Inside he found a few road flares, jumper cables, a pair of gloves, some stale gum and a few rotten packs of jerky. He dropped the gloves and flares in his pack and left the rest. He moved over to Brin's vehicle.

  "How's it going?"

  She looked up at him from where she squatted next to the small SUV. "Not bad—this one's almost out. I've got a couple gallons in the little can here ready to transfer to my last big one. I'll run these back to Ted so we can fill up the van and bring it up the on-ramp."

  Erik nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. "We should make pretty good time now. Looks like the southbound lane is pretty clear as far as I can see."

  Brin grunted under the weight of the two 5 gallon jugs of gas. Erik instantly offered a hand.

  "Want me to help?"

  She shrugged her shoulder away from his hands. "No. I got it. You keep digging for supplies. We'll meet you in a minute."

  Erik swallowed the emotion that threatened to burst through his lips. "Right. We want to get out of here as fast as possible."

  A flash of sympathy crossed her face, but Erik forced himself to turn away before she could say anything further. He stopped off at the next vehicle and opened the doors. A cloud of flies emerged. Some animals had climbed in through the open window in the back and made an absolute mess of the car. The bones of small animals, garbage, rotted fruit, and all kinds of trash picked up from the road had been collected into a disgusting den of filth. He backed away, cursing.

  How long has this thing been sitting here?

  Moving on to the next car, he was more cautious. Inside he found several bags of supplies. Someone had gone shopping just before they'd abandoned their vehicle. It looked like a kid preparing to go to college.

  Boxes of books and textbooks filled the backseat. Bags of clothes and other useless items occupied the front seat. Plastic grocery bags full of toiletries and school supplies had been haphazardly tossed in the back.

  There was a pretty good space left behind the driver's seat. Erik imagined a box full of CDs or an Xbox or something had once sat there. The video game controller he found under the driver's seat confirmed his suspicion. A sad smile cracked his face.

  Some poor kid on his way to school decided to abandon his car and took the cool stuff, leaving things like toilet paper, toothpaste, and toothbrushes. He shook his head. A sudden sadness enveloped him.

  This was someone's child. They probably never made it to wherever they were going. A set of parents out there—if they were still alive, were grieving the loss of their child.

  He was grave robbing.

  Erik thought about his wife and Ted and the kids. Things like toilet paper and toothpaste and toothbrushes, band aids, and other such trivial necessities of modern life would go a long way toward easing their journey. They certainly weren't doing anybody any good sitting inside this car. He looked up and down the highway again—still no movement.

  Well, if I don't take it, someone else will, or the damn thing will be hit by lightning or something and catch on fire and then no one will use it.

  Erik pulled out a few of the empty grocery bags and stuffed them with things to keep. He pulled out all the toilet paper and stacked it on the ground next to the car. Adding to his little pile, he opened the bags of clothes and rifled through them, tossing away whatever seemed useless until he found what he'd hoped for—a nice warm blanket. He held it up and got a good look. Maroon and gold fleece, it was emblazoned with the Florida State University Osceola head.

  He was right—some kid had been headed south for college when the lights went out. He collected a few of the warmer items and pile them up with the blanket next to the car. Two sweatshirts, some sweatpants, a windbreaker. It wasn't much.

  In the distance an engine started. The sound shot through him like a bolt of lightning. His chest tightened, and he brought the rifle to his shoulder, sweeping back and forth, looking for a target.

  Nothing moved in the southbound lanes. He quickly spun and leaned against the car, using it for cover to check the northbound lanes. Still nothing. The engine revved, the sound coming from behind him, bouncing off the trees. He spun back to the on-ramp to see Ted waving
at him from the van as it crested the ramp.

  Brin sat in the passenger's seat pointing through the windshield, directing Ted to maneuver around the abandoned cars. Erik watched as they navigated the maze of vehicles and eventually drew near.

  The van's brakes squealed as it came to a stop ten feet away from Erik. Ted shut the engine off and got out along with Brin and the kids.

  "Check out what I found," Erik said proudly as he motioned to the pile next to the car. "Looks like somebody was heading to college," he said holding up the blanket.

  "Oh my gosh, that's gonna be great for the back of the van," said Brin as she gently took the soft material from Erik and held it to her face. "Kids, check this out. Won't this be nice to sleep on tonight?" she asked, holding the blanket out for the kids to run their fingers through the soft fuzziness.

  She beamed at Erik over the tops of their heads as they moved in.

  Ted ignored the exchange and started tossing the supplies in the back of the van. "All right guys, stay on target here. We need to get as much gas as possible. Brin was able to give us about a half a tank. Let's keep pushing."

  "Right," agreed Erik, shifting the pack on his shoulders.

  "Erik, you keep working your way north. This is a good idea," Ted said pointing at the pile supplies by the car. "Put anything you find by the side of the car. As soon as Brin gets enough gas to fill us up, we'll move forward and collect what you've left behind. We'll fill the cans as we go."

  Erik nodded. "Sounds good. I'll give you a wave if I find food or water."

  "Roger that," said Ted. "Somebody's got to have something out here…" he muttered, hands on hips and staring at the vehicles in the northbound lanes.

  "Okay kids, we're gonna play a game," said Brin as she huddled with the children. "Uncle Erik is going to search through the cars and pull out treasure for us." She looked up at Erik and winked.

  "Treasure?" asked Teddy in open-mouthed amazement. "Like pirates?"

  The conflicting emotions inside Erik melted at the sheer happiness on his wife's face. What is going on? One minute you're snapping at me, the next you're all smiles and giggles.

  Erik gripped his rifle tight and turned. He trotted off toward the next car, ignoring the sound of her voice as she explained to the children how they could gather the supplies Erik left behind.

  Erik spent the next hour moving quickly from car to car, not finding much of anything. After the initial success with the mother-lode of college supplies, he'd found nothing but empty food wrappers and spare tires.

  It didn't seem like anybody was prepared for anything—either that or everyone took whatever they had when they’d abandoned their rides. Erik sighed as he shut the trunk on a Toyota Camry. Whoever owned it had nothing in the back, not even a spare tire. It was completely empty.

  How can someone go through life without even having a spare tire or jumper cables? Erik shook his head as he turned and moved on to the next car. It didn't make any sense. Most of the cars had been empty—

  A chilling thought stopped Erik in his tracks in the middle of the highway. He slowly glanced around the cars. There was still no movement. On either side of the four-lane divided highway, birds and squirrels chattered in the trees, insects buzzed. Everything went on as normal except for the fact that hundreds of cars lay stalled in the middle of the road.

  Hundreds of empty cars.

  Erik turned around and surveyed the scene behind him, looking at all the open doors and popped trunks leading back to the van some 300 yards in the distance. Of course they're empty, Erik told himself as he narrowed his eyes. Somebody came through here and cleaned them out already. There are survivors around here… He peered at the trees. I knew it.

  Erik walked over and checked one more car to confirm his suspicions. "Okay, if you're empty, I'm turning around and heading back to the van and we're getting the hell out of here." He closed his eyes and pulled on the driver's door. Inside, the car had been ransacked. Random bits of clothing and a belt lay in the front seats. He looked over the head rest of the driver's seat and found a bag had been cut open, the contents of a makeup kit scattered across the back seat.

  He reached in and popped the trunk. Inside the back of the car, he found exactly what he expected. A tire, a few pens and pencils, and scraps of paper. Someone had cleaned it out.

  "Damn," he said, hand resting on the lid of the trunk. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Someone could be watching them right now, scoping them with a rifle.

  Suddenly, as he scanned the distance to the north, he spotted movement. He stared for a moment, almost unbelieving. Someone darted between two cars. He turned and sprinted for the van, waving his arms. "Contact!" he shouted.

  Ted immediately gathered up the kids and threw whatever supplies they had at hand into the van. Brin scrambled from underneath a car in between Erik and the van, running awkwardly with her two red gas jugs.

  "What's going on?" she asked.

  Erik overtook her and snatched one of the jugs from her hand. "There's somebody back there!"

  "They armed?" she panted.

  "I didn't stop to ask."

  Before he could say anything else the windshield of the car they were passing popped as a bullet punctured it. Brin screamed and tripped, losing her grip on the gas jug. Erik dropped to a crouch next to her.

  "You okay?" he said looking over his shoulder. "Come on!" He hauled Brin to her feet and pushed her toward the van, then shouldered his rifle and grabbed both gas cans. "Don't stop!"

  Ted had the driver side door open and his rifle propped against the frame, providing cover. "I got movement! At least three…"

  "Hurry!" yelled Lindsay.

  Brin raced ahead and reached the van first. She threw open the large sliding and hopped in. Once she was inside, Ted jumped in and started the van. He shifted into reverse and started rolling back. Erik raced up and handed the gas cans to Brin as he trotted alongside the van. He flung his pack and rifle into the passenger seat. Even before his feet had completely left the ground, Ted hit the gas and the van lurched in reverse.

  "Stay down kids!" Erik said as he swung inside and took a knee by the door. He pulled his rifle up and aimed forward leaning out the door, looking for movement as they retreated south.

  Damn it, we're going the wrong direction…

  Ted turned in his seat and peered through the rear window, driving in reverse. "Hang on, there's a spot for me to turn around."

  Erik lurched back into the closest seat as the van twisted and weaved in between the abandoned cars on the interstate, pulling backward at a good clip toward the exit. Every move threatened to toss him out the door.

  A loud thump signaled a bullet impacting the front of the van. Lindsay screamed and Brin dropped down on top of the kids to cover them with her body. Erik aimed out the window.

  "I don't have a target!"

  "Hang on," Ted said as he spun the van, tires chirping and threw it into drive. He floored it and the engine roared. Tires squealing, the van lumbered around one final car and down the exit ramp, heading away from the interstate back the way they'd come.

  "There was a crossroads about a mile back," Ted announced over the noise of the wind rushing past Erik's open door. "We'll aim for that, then loop north and try to get around these jokers."

  Erik manhandled the door and slammed it shut. The noise inside lowered dramatically.

  "Did you see any other vehicles moving?" asked Brin as she got up off the floor.

  "No, but they can have their pick of what's left out there," replied Erik, his heart thudding in his chest. "Why would they start shooting at us?"

  Ted grunted and spun the wheel, avoiding a charred car. "Why would we run? It's the new normal, man—brave new world and all that crap." He glanced at Erik in the rear-view mirror. "Anyone you don't know is a threat."

  Chapter 28

  Chinese Proposal

  DANIEL STARED AT THE map, trying to ignore the frantic pace of the staffers out in the hallw
ay. Baltimore had fallen. The arrival of Malcolm's people with Stapleton hot on his heels had caused a mass, impromptu evacuation— the greatest in the history of the United States. Over two hundred thousand displaced survivors streamed out of the city and outlying suburbs just as promises of power began to shine a beacon of hope to the beleaguered mid-Atlantic states.

  It was the worst possible timing.

  Daniel stared at the paperwork on his desk regarding Edwards' transfer. Everything had been finalized. Great. She was shot down trying to attack Malcolm and the Russians. She's part of the goddamn problem. Now what do I do with her?

  His door opened and one of the ubiquitous Secret Service agents stepped inside. "Sir, the prisoner transfer is complete. We have custody of the colonel—she's being brought here now."

  Daniel blinked. "Here?"

  "Yes, sir. When you issued the evacuation directive, the decision was made to bring her with us."

  Daniel felt heat creep up his neck. "Who made that decision?"

  The agent shook his head. "I don't know, sir. That came down from the Pentagon. I'm just following orders. No man left behind, I guess?"

  Daniel forced himself to smile. "Of course, thank you Brian."

  He stared at the door after the agent left. Okay, that's the least of my concerns. When we leave, we'll just take her with us. Then he smiled.

  If Stapleton manages to get close to me, she can be my shield. I'll trade her life for mine. He knew playing not to lose was a surefire way to lose, but at this point in the game, things were falling apart faster than he could put back together.

  He glanced at the map. The leading-edge of Malcolm's army was less than ten miles from Washington. Stapleton, as far as he could tell, was still north of Baltimore, but that wouldn't last long. The video reconnaissance from drones orbiting Baltimore showed Stapleton had transferred his tanks onto flatbed trucks and was transporting them around the 695 loop.