Roy gestured behind the man.
“What’s that behind you?” he asked.
The man fell for it like the idiot he was, turning his head around, and Josie, Roy, and Jon each took immediate advantage of the opportunity to raise and fire their pistols multiple times simultaneously.
The masked man with the AK stood no chance. Struck repeatedly in the legs, arms, shoulders, and torso by nearly a dozen 9mm bullets, he was unable to get a single shot off. His weapon clanked to the pavement as he himself crumpled to his knees and then to his back.
Roy stepped over, pistol raised, and tore off the now dying man’s mask with a swift motion of his hand. The man was revealed to be an ordinary looking unshaven fellow in his 30s.
“Who are you?!” Roy asked without hesitation or a hint of sympathy in his voice.
The man was coughing up blood, and lots of it.
“Who are you?!” Roy pressed. “You and the other men in your militia, who are you?! I want to know! NOW!!”
“We gotta go, buddy,” said Jon, keeping his eyes and pistol aimed down the dark alleyway for any more potential hostiles.
“Not yet!” Roy snapped angrily. “We need to know who they are!”
He pressed his foot down on one of the man’s leg wounds and he screamed in pain.
“Answer!” Roy shouted again.
“Roy!” Josie couldn’t take it anymore.
“Okay, okay!” the wounded man cried as Roy finally released the pressure. “Listen, we’re just following orders. That’s all we’re doing! It’s nothing personal against you!”
“Orders from who?” Roy asked, more calmly this time. “Whose orders?”
The man was coughing up more blood. He was on the verge of imminent death.
“WHO?!” Roy asked again, this time pressing the muzzle of his Beretta to the dying man’s forehead. “You’ll get a quick death if you answer now.”
“Ne…Ne…Nero,” the man, literally drowning in his own blood, managed to gasp out before his hoarse breathing stopped and he fell limp.
“Nero?” Roy asked out loud, mostly to himself.
He looked in bewilderment at Jon and Josie.
“Let’s go,” Jon said. “We have to go now if we want to make it back to the house before they do.”
“And then what?” asked Josie.
“And then we mount the defense,” Jon said. “Because there’s going to be a lot more coming.”
Chapter 28
“Ten miles! A major milestone, my amigos! Finally, we’re making good progress!” Ojo exclaimed and honked the horn a few times to show his excitement.
With Ojo’s foot pressed firmly on the gas pedal, the old red GMC truck was barreling down the road, past abandoned newer vehicles that had long been left behind. Sure, the truck may have been old and rusty and seen better days, but its lack of a computerized system meant it was invulnerable to any kind of an EMP blast or solar storm, and it was now one of the most precious possessions that any person could have.
Jonah was asleep, or at least pretending to be, and Spider was struggling to ignore Ojo jabbering away in the driver’s seat about the crimes he and Dominic had committed for the last half hour.
“Well, back to the house on Applewood Street,” Ojo resumed his aimless story. “Amigos, burning that thing down sure what they called a ‘doozy.’ I already had three under my belt, so I let Dominic light the match on that one. Just the look in his eyes when I handed him the match, I’ll never forget. And watching it burn with my hand over his shoulder, breathing in all that smoke, I felt proud, you know? Almost as if I were his father and not his older brother. Only time I really felt that way. Weird, huh, amigos? But anyway, if you think arson was the worst of the crimes we did when we rolled the streets, oh shit guys, are you in for a treat with this other story I got. Happened no less than seven years ago, amigos, I tell you it was the time of our young lives…”
It was funny earlier to Spider because it was clear Ojo honestly believed that he and Jonah were listening. But now, Spider had heard enough. Ojo had told exactly thirteen stories, and now he was getting ready for his fourteenth without as little as a five second break.
Spider couldn’t take it anymore. He rolled his eyes and went for it.
“So where are we headed anyway?” Spider suddenly spoke up and interrupted Ojo.
Spider’s interjection took Ojo completely by surprise and his mouth snapped shut. He glared across the seat at Spider, who was beginning to second guess whether or not interrupting was the right move.
“I thought I made this clear before,” Ojo’s voice now had a hint of anger and frustration in it, a complete reversal from the blissful enjoyment he was having from telling his stories. “To find that homesteading bastard who killed my baby brother and fled away in his rickety truck like a damn coward!”
“Right,” Spider tried to keep calm. “But where is he? Don’t we need some kind of a plan, or somethin’? Otherwise we’re just gonna drive on down this road ’til we hit Cali. And by then we’ll be long outta gas.”
“Hmm, where is that homesteading bastard?” Ojo asked, tapping his chin. “You think I have all the answers, amigo? You think I have a magic snow globe or some shit like that can tell us exactly where he is?”
“So we don’t have a plan then?”
“Why the hell do we need a plan? We just gotta keep hunting ‘till we find him. I know we will.”
“Well, we had a plan when we raided the homestead, and it sorta worked. So having a plan now would be kinda intelligent, is all I’m saying.”
“Alright, amigo. Tell me your plan. Your big, beautiful plan. Shall we stop and find a school so you can give us a detailed presentation in the classroom while we’re at it?”
“Relax, bro,” Spider was far past annoyed. “Coming up with a plan is simple. All we gotta do is think about where this guy would have gone, and then we go there and look for him. No different then hunting for a sorry ass kid who ran away from home.”
Ojo stayed silent. How had he not thought of that? Could Spider really be smarter than he had thought?
Slowly, Ojo eased up on the gas pedal, and then he applied the brakes to bring the GMC to a halt on the road.
“Alright then, amigo,” said Ojo. “I knew you would smarten up eventually.”
Spider rolled his eyes. Meanwhile, Jonah was opening his own, either from his sleep or his pretend sleep.
“Cool, so we actually gonna think up of something now then?” asked Spider.
“The spotlight is on you, my friend,” said Ojo. “I’ll give you a chance to tell me what you got, and then maybe, I’ll promote you to my first lieutenant if I’m impressed.”
“Alright then,” Spider relaxed back in the seat, deciding he’d play Ojo’s little game. “The nearest town to us, we gotta go there. That’s where that little homesteading bastard would have gone, and if he ain’t there anymore, we just move onto the next town up the road.”
Ojo was silent for a moment.
“That’s it?” he finally asked.
“Well, you got anything better?” Spider asked.
Ojo sneered.
“Running around aimlessly until we find that little bastard,” Ojo shook his head in disappointment. “You must think you’re a brilliant scientist in a white suit or something.”
“So what you were doing wasn’t any different?” Spider retorted.
Ojo’s hand clenched into a hard fist. A dark fury began swimming in both of his black eyes, the same uncontrollable fury that he had when he mercilessly killed Pills and Jerry a few days ago, and the two young men they stole the truck from.
Having been quiet throughout the whole ride and conversation, Jonah suddenly spoke two words through a cracked and fearful voice: “We’re surrounded.”
“What?!” Ojo yelled in frustration, spitting saliva all over Jonah’s face.
But the fury that was in Ojo’s eyes quickly dissolved away when he slowly turned his head to see what Jonah was
pointing to. The angry and intimidating sneer on his face morphed into one of primal fear.
There were no less than twenty militia men armed with rifles and shotguns surrounding them on all sides. All wore tactical gear or camouflage clothing to some degree, and some had masks covering their faces.
Their leader, standing directly in front of the truck, was a tall grizzled man in his 50s with wild gray hair to his shoulders, a beard, and an eye patch over his right eye. He wore a long black leather jacket that fell nearly to his knees and no doubt concealed a variety of deadly weapons beneath it. He cradled a Mossberg pump action shotgun in his arms.
“Out, all of you!” he barked out, indicating with his shotgun for them to step out. “And let’s see some hands in the air and weapons on the ground while we’re at it!”
Ojo instinctively shut off the engine to the truck and then slowly opened his door. He waved his left hand out.
“Okay, okay, amigos!” he called out. “We’re coming out! Nice and slow! No funny business okay?!”
“That depends entirely on you,” the grizzled man with the eye patch responded. “Hands in the air and guns on the ground, like I said.”
A few seconds later, Ojo, Spider, and Jonah had all emptied out of the vehicle and thrown their guns on the ground.
“The machete too, brother,” the grizzled man motioned the muzzle of his shotgun to the machete that Ojo had hanging from his hip.
Ojo obeyed and the machete fell like a lump to the ground next to his .357 revolver and Spider’s .30-30 lever action.
The grizzled man approached, as the nineteen other men surrounding the vehicle now closed in to inspect it.
“What’s this about, amigo?” Ojo asked. “We just passing through like ordinary folk, you know?”
Suddenly, someone grabbed Ojo forcefully from behind and flung him down to his knees. Hands began patting him up and down from head to toe to check him for concealed weapons. Spider and Jonah promptly received the same treatment. All three of them knew better than to fight back and offered no resistance other than a look of scorn.
“Ordinary folk?” the grizzled man let out a little chuckle. “If you and your two comrades here are what’s considered ordinary you must come from a different part of the world, brother. And not a good part of it.”
The militiaman who had patted Ojo, Spider, and Jonah looked up to the grizzled man and nodded. “All clear. No hidden weapons.”
“Tie ‘em up,” the grizzled man ordered. “Duct tape and paracord together. Real tight.”
“Nah, nah, nah, amigo,” Ojo smiled. “That won’t be necessary. I can give you my personal guarantee — ”
WHAM!
The grizzled man swung the stock of his shotgun with such unexpected force and speed against Ojo’s temple that it left him sprawling on the ground in front of Spider and Jonah. They both winced as if they had been struck themselves.
“SHIT!” Ojo cursed as he grabbed the side of his temple and writhed in pain. The skin had split and blood was seeping out. A pounding headache had already set in and his vision of the world had become blurry.
The grizzled man with the eye patch kneeled down in front of Ojo. A gloved hand shot out and grappled him tightly by the throat. Ojo gasped and gurgled for breath.
The one good eye of the grizzled man peered deep into both of Ojo’s eyes at once, into his heart and soul. For the first time in a long time, Ojo was vulnerable and completely at someone else’s mercy. His reign of supremacy was over.
Seeing that Ojo was now totally defeated and submissive, the grizzled man with the eye patch partly released his grip to offer more oxygen. Then he spoke, and the putrid smell of his horrific rotting breath brought tears to Ojo’s eyes.
“Let’s make one thing clear now, brother. This truck, its contents, and your lives are now all the property of Nero. Do you understand?”
For the first time in his adult life, Ojo gulped in mortal fear for his life.
The grizzled man grinned. “It’s Nero’s call, but something tells me that you’re gonna make a fine soldier.”
Chapter 29
“Roy, we’re surrounded!”
Josie couldn’t control her fear. Sweat had soaked her hair to the scalp and was running like a waterfall down the sides of her face.
Peeking her eyes and forehead above the front window on the upper level of the house, she could see the dawn of the morning sun revealing at least twenty militia members taking up positions inside and round houses on the opposite side of the street.
“More on this end!” Roy yelled from his side of the house. “I count seventeen!”
“Twenty from here!” Josie yelled back.
“Keep your head low,” Jon instructed Josie as he forced her head away from the window. “Those acrylic windows are tough but they’re not bulletproof.”
“What the hell do we do?” Josie asked frantically.
“We don’t let them breach the walls,” Jon replied. “They get through the walls, it’s over.”
Jon had geared up with a tactical vest filled with AR-15 magazines over his torso, and his Daniel Defense AR-15 with the red dot sight was slung across his shoulder. Roy also had his own scoped AR-15 ready to go from his position.
“Do we shoot?” asked Josie.
“No, only if they shoot first or make a run for the walls,” said Jon. “We don’t yet know their full intentions even. Where’s your weapon?”
Josie picked up the AK-47 with the red dot that she had taken from the masked man who they had gunned down before.
Jon nodded in affirmation and then continued: “Go downstairs and watch the windows. Roy and I will keep things secured from up here.”
From his position on the couch on the main level, Ben could hear someone bursting down the stairs and soon Josie rounded about the corner.
“What the hell is going on?” Ben asked weakly.
He saw the AK in her hands. That couldn’t mean anything good. He already knew that something was amiss, but the three of them had completely ignored him when they returned to the house.
“Not now, Ben,” said Josie as she glided past Ben and across the room.
“Tell me!” Ben tried to pick himself up partly from the couch, only to slide back down as the pain was much too intense.
Josie took up position behind a wall next to the front window and peered outside.
“We’re surrounded,” she finally admitted.
“Surrounded?” Ben tried to tilt his head to see her. “By who?”
“We don’t know. Only that they’re part of the same group we ran into before.”
“What do they want with us?”
“I don’t know!”
“What happened when the three of you went into the town?!”
“I can’t explain now!”
“Quiet!” Jon’s voice boomed from upstairs and shut them up.
Josie sighed.
“Listen, Ben, we’re surrounded by nearly forty armed men and that’s all we know, maybe more.”
“Did you find the insulin?” Ben asked after a moment to take in the reality of what Josie had just told him.
Josie shook her head. “It was all gone. All of it.”
“Mom, what’s going on?” Alex asked, stepping down the stairs. “Who’s surrounding us?”
“Alex, go back to the safe room upstairs now!” Josie barked.
“I want to know what’s happening!” Alex responded.
“I said go upstairs!”
Alex disappeared back around the corner, but Josie could sense that she was still there sitting or standing on the staircase.
“Alex, in the safe room, NOW!” Roy’s voice boomed louder than Jon’s did before, and a moment later Josie could hear Alex’s feet hightailing it up the staircase.
Why did she listen so easily to Roy and not to her?
“You see movement down there?!” called out Jon’s voice.
Josie took a quick peek around the window and through the gate at th
e front of the walls. Nothing.
“No!” she replied.
“These guys are biding their time!” she heard Roy. “They aren’t in any rush.”
Suddenly, Josie could hear gunfire erupting from behind the house, followed by somebody returning fire from within the house, likely Roy.
“Never mind that!” Josie managed to make out Roy’s voice over the gunfire.
Even though the shooting was coming from up the stairs, it was already deafening. Ben and Josie covered their ears.
Then, the gunfire stopped as soon as it had begun.
“Roy?!” Josie called out.
“Two down, two down, I got two down!” Roy called back.
Josie peered back around the window, and saw the quick flash of two masked militiamen running past the gate.
“I see movement!”
A few more gunshots screamed in the distance. Jon’s AR-15 boomed from just above the ceiling over Josie, and when Josie glanced back around the window, she could see one masked man through the gate on the ground writhing in pain on the ground, trying to courageously crawl away from a gory gunshot wound that had torn apart his hip.
There was one more shot fired from Jon’s AR and the man’s head snapped to the side, spraying blood across the pavement of the street.
“One more down!” she heard Jon.
“They’re pulling back from my end!” Roy called back. “Going to regroup.”
“They’re pulling back from up here too!” Jon replied.
Just then, automatic gunfire opened up from one of the buildings across the street and began to pepper the house and the wall surrounding it. A few bullets screamed past the gate and struck the front door.
Josie dove for cover across the side, as more bullets shattered through the front windows and missed her by mere inches.
“Take cover!” Jon called out over the gunfire.
Ben rolled off the couch and then beneath it for protection. A half second later, three bullets ripped apart the top of the couch where he had just been.
The gunfire continued for a few more seconds and then came to an abrupt stop, followed by dead silence.
Jon’s house and the fortified wall perimeter were built out of durable concrete and the outside doors out of heavy duty steel, which had stopped most of the incoming bullets, but the remainder of them had made short work of the acrylic glass windows, shattering through them like normal glass and shredding up the inside of the house.
Our Survival: A Collection of Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thrillers Page 18