by E S Richards
As they walked into the denser part of town, Len became concerned by how empty it was. He was used to them not seeing anyone, but to walk through a town and find that it was completely abandoned felt weird. There was a niggling sensation in the back of his head that he couldn’t get rid of, and the deeper into Union Pier they walked the more nervous he became.
“Uh oh,” Harrison’s voice only heightened Len’s fear as he turned to see what his partner was referring to. “That doesn’t look good.”
Harrison was looking towards a broken store front, the glass windows completely smashed and shattered all over the road. The cash register looked to have been ripped out and thrown onto the sidewalk as well, but Len could tell that wasn’t what concerned Harrison the most. The old sign that hung above the store read Ed’s Gun Shop and the contents had been completely stripped out. Whatever weapons Ed had previously stocked were nowhere to be seen, but something told Len they weren’t far away.
Immediately the niggling sensation Len was feeling intensified and he withdrew his Beretta pistol from his holster, holding it in a similar fashion to how Harrison held his Glock. He was almost certain there were people still alive in Union Pier and he couldn’t help but feel like they were watching them.
“What do we do?” Len whispered, deferring to Harrison to make a decision like he always did. Len cursed himself for not listening to the prepper in the first place and avoiding the town. He had learned by now that Harrison tended to know best.
“Just keep going,” Harrison spoke as he started walking again, his head constantly moving to keep an eye on all his surroundings. “Stay alert; we still don’t know what’s going on here.”
Len nodded and followed Harrison’s lead, keeping his pistol in his right hand while the other made sure the bow was secure on his back. The last thing he wanted was to lose something if they had to start running; suddenly the large meal of venison was sitting heavy in his stomach. Len just wanted to be out of Union Pier and onto the next stage of their journey. It would be night in a couple of hours and he didn’t want to be anywhere near the ransacked gun shop when darkness fell.
The deeper into the town they walked, the more unnerved Len started to feel. Everywhere seemed so quiet and empty and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a curtain twitch and spun around in that direction, only to be met with an empty window frame. Every little sound was heightened in his ears and Len could swear he could hear his heart beating in his chest.
Harrison seemed both calm and concerned beside him, the prepper all too aware of how badly their trip through Union Pier could end. He kept his finger beside the trigger of his Glock, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. It was obvious that Len was getting increasingly anxious beside him and the last thing Harrison wanted was his partner’s gun going off and giving away their position—although he was certain whoever lived in the town was already very aware of their presence.
The town didn’t look like it went on much longer, and Harrison started to feel like they would make it through without raising any suspicion. It was only when they rounded the last corner of the small town that Harrison realized that wasn’t going to happen. He stared up at a large pile of cars, blocking the exit of the town and forcing the two of them to a halt. The roadblock was definitely manmade and at the sound of a shotgun being racked behind them Harrison knew they were going to meet the builder of the roadblock whether they wanted to or not.
Chapter 4
Forcing his breathing to slow down, Dixon thought quickly over what was happening. Fowler was dead. In fact, almost all of the group he’d been in the Osprey with had been killed in the crash. Farley and Corporal Lawson were somewhere in the city, but Dixon could only guess where. The sight of Washington falling apart in front of his eyes was messing with his concentration. He was a solider. He’d dealt with worse scenarios before; this shouldn’t be a problem. Swallowing loudly, Dixon tightened his grip on his gun and prepared to fire.
***
“Fall in!”
General Shepherd shouted across the courtyard, the slightest hint of a smile creeping across his face as he watched the dozens of soldiers quickly moving into their ranks. Shepherd didn’t care what Mr. Wilson thought; he needed to get bodies out into the streets to see if they could calm down the madness that was taking hold of his city.
Several reports had come in from the streets, although without a radio signal the general could only piece together what he was told. In the back of his mind he knew that sending his troops out into the city would only placate his feeling of uselessness for a short time. Without a radio he had no way of hearing back from them until they returned to the White House. Even General Shepherd couldn’t predict when that would be. Still, he relayed his orders swiftly to the tens of soldiers standing before him and watched as they started marching out of the courtyard in their designated teams.
In total he deployed four ground teams, one to cover each geographic quarter of the city. Two teams remained within the White House, acting as security and protection for the important people left behind. General Shepherd hardly spared a thought for President Bruce trapped down in his emergency bunker. In the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter right now that the president couldn’t get out; the bunker was built to hold twenty people for a month. General Shepherd had seen less than ten people down there when he’d left with Dixon, and if they couldn’t get the president out before a month was up then he was doing his job very wrong.
***
Bullets pinged off the hood of the car that Dixon hid behind, the shower of metal and glass intensifying as he fired back at the two remaining thieves inside the jewelry store. It was obvious what they were trying to do: take out the windows of the vehicle he was using as cover and force him out into the open. Dixon read the situation quickly; he wasn’t about to let them beat him.
Dropping his body even lower so he lay on his stomach, Dixon peered underneath the car and saw the positions of the two men in the store. He lifted his arm up and quickly fired a warning shot through one of the broken windows, giving the two men an idea of where his position was. Then he moved quickly. Crawling along the ground on his stomach, Dixon aimed his 9mm at one of the thieves’ feet, firing off two quick shots and then a third as the criminal dropped to the ground. Dixon’s first two shots had unbalanced the man, forcing him to fall to the carpeted floor of the jewelry store clutching at the bullet holes in his left foot. Dixon’s third shot had been more precise: a perfect headshot that immediately stopped the man’s suffering. Now it was one on one and Dixon felt the promise of survival slowly spreading throughout his body.
He moved quickly now, aware that the magazine of his weapon was empty and that there was little time for him to reload. As the one surviving criminal stared down at his dead friend, Dixon leapt out from behind the vehicle and ran into the store, grabbing his assailant’s wrist and snapping his weapon from his hand just seconds before the trigger was squeezed. The Smith & Wesson threaded barrel pistol slid away from the two men, leaving Dixon with his hand wrapped firmly around his opponent’s wrist.
A fist connected with the side of Dixon’s head, making him loosen his grip just enough for the man to break free and make a jump for his weapon. Dixon was behind him in seconds, landing on the man’s back and spinning him away from where the pistol lay. Dixon wrapped a strong arm around the man’s neck and pulled him backwards, cutting off his air supply as the criminal struggled to escape. His head slammed backwards into Dixon’s nose, making a loud crunch as the bone broke and metallic, crimson blood started to drip down Dixon’s face.
Still Dixon refused to let go. Squeezing tighter around the man’s neck, Dixon spread his legs out slightly beneath him, giving him more support as he held the criminal at an awkward angle. He felt the man’s body start to grow weak in his arms, his legs no longer kicking out as violently as he tried to break free. Dixon squeezed even harder, carefully monitoring
the man’s pulse in his neck so he knew when to let go. He didn’t want to kill the man, not if he could help it. Although Dixon was a trained solider, he also knew the law and this man should be tried for his crimes, not merely dismissed from the planet because Dixon was able to. While he hadn’t had a choice with the others, justice could be served now. As he felt the man’s pulse weaken further in his neck Dixon released the pressure from his arm and watched as the criminal succumbed to unconsciousness.
Acting quickly, Dixon supported the man as he crumpled to the ground, his legs completely giving way beneath him. Moving toward the Smith & Wesson pistol, Dixon picked it up and admired the weapon, weighing it carefully in his hand. It was the sort of gun more associated with law enforcement and Dixon wondered how this criminal had come to possess one. Not wanting anyone else to have the chance, he tucked it into the waistband of his pants, his own 9mm Beretta back in its holster.
Next Dixon removed two zip-ties from his back pocket and held them between his teeth while he dragged the jewelry thief’s softly breathing body towards the rear of the store. Forcing his way through a door marked Employees Only, Dixon moved down a short corridor, finally dragging the body through a marked door on the right. As quickly as he could, Dixon secured the criminal to a drainage pipe running along the wall of the small bathroom, tightly fastening the zip-ties so there was no way he could escape.
He looked around the bathroom and nodded. Dixon’s first priority was regrouping with Farley and Corporal Lawson, but once that was done and everything had calmed down slightly he would need to report this man and turn him in. With another nod of his head Dixon reassured himself that everything would be over within a couple of days and then things would return to normal. This criminal would have a water source close by for when he woke up and then a nice, cold cell to spend the rest of his days shortly after. It was the best Dixon could think of doing for the meantime. He had already wasted too much time dealing with these criminals.
***
“Shots fired. Northeast.”
“More explosions coming from the west still. There’s chaos everywhere—how has it gotten this bad?”
Farley whipped her head from side to side as she surveyed Washington. Buildings and vehicles had caught fire, the violent orange flames scattered down every street and around every corner. People were running and screaming in the roads, not even sparing a glance for the two soldiers with their weapons drawn. Some civilians fought amongst themselves while many others had taken the opportunity to start looting from local stores and businesses. Farley and Lawson had tried to stop a couple of them at first, but the frequency of the criminal behavior quickly became too much for them to avoid. Unless more troops were deployed to the city, the most the pair could do was gather information and try to return to the White House.
“More shots fired,” Corporal Lawson repeated as they jogged, her course changing slightly as she moved down a side street in the direction of the gunfire. “Let’s investigate.”
“This is where you sent Dixon and Fowler, isn’t it?” Farley asked as they ran, a sudden bolt of nerves kicking at her insides. She’d had a thing for Dixon Daniels for many years and even though she knew about his secret relationship with Mr. Wilson’s daughter, she couldn’t shake the way that she felt for him. There was still a tiny shred of hope within her that he’d forget about Mary and choose her. Farley was, after all, much more in line with Dixon’s lifestyle and livelihood.
Corporal Lawson didn’t say anything in return, but Farley noted how her lips slipped into a thin grimace. This was the direction she’d sent Dixon and Fowler, and if shots were being fired they must have encountered a more dangerous part of the city than the two women had. Gritting her teeth, Farley started running a little faster, unable to entertain the thought of what they might find.
“The gunshots have stopped,” Corporal Lawson slowed her pace somewhat as she spoke, yet still kept her pistol firmly in her right hand. “Let’s proceed with caution.”
Farley nodded. She was aware most people who weren’t properly trained regarded the end of a gunfight as a good sign, but like many other soldiers she knew better. If shots were no longer being fired, that meant one side of the battle had won and they had no way of knowing which side that was until they found the culprits. It also meant they had a harder job determining where the shots had been coming from, but as the two of them rounded another corner and Farley caught sight of a dead soldier in the distance, she knew they were in the right place.
Immediately the two women pressed close against a wall, using the brick to cover them partly in shadow. Farley looked closer at the fallen soldier and felt her body sag in relief as she realized it wasn’t Dixon, but Fowler, lying dead in the road. She immediately felt guilty to feel relief over the soldier’s death but couldn’t help feeling that way as she knew the body on the ground was too slight and fair-skinned to be Dixon. But where was the other soldier?
Corporal Lawson took the lead as they moved further down the street toward Fowler’s body, both of their weapons drawn and their minds on full alert. The signs of a shootout quickly became evident as they reached Fowler’s body, car windows shattered and bullet casings scattered near the broken front of a jewelry store. Edging closer, Farley noticed two more bodies belonging to civilians and realized Dixon and Fowler must have interrupted a robbery, just like she and Lawson had earlier. Unlike them however, the two men had clearly tried to intervene.
As Corporal Lawson stepped away from Fowler’s body, taking his dog tags from around his neck, Farley started picking her way through the ruined jewelry store. There was definitely strong evidence of a gunfight, each of the men inside the store brought down by gunshot wounds. Dixon had to be nearby somewhere. Farley was just about to open her mouth to speak when she heard the faint sound of a door closing further back in the building. Both she and Corporal Lawson snapped their eyes towards the only other door in the store and stepped silently into cover, their weapons drawn and pointed at the Employees Only door.
***
“Freeze!”
Dixon jumped with a start as he heard the word shouted when he pushed open the door back to the jewelry store. His hand instinctively went for his 9mm before he realized who the voice had come from. Corporal Lawson and Farley slowly revealed themselves, their faces a mixture of shock and relief as they looked at Dixon, his hand still halfway towards his Beretta, while the Smith & Wesson poked out of his waistband beside it.
“Daniels,” Corporal Lawson coughed as she re-holstered her weapon, “good to see you alive, soldier.”
Dixon nodded. “Fowler wasn’t so lucky I’m afraid, ma’am.”
“Yes,” Lawson replied sternly, “we’ve seen him. Would you care to explain what happened here?”
Dixon cleared his throat and started explaining the shootout to his commanding officer, giving Farley the odd smile here and there so she knew he was okay. Dixon could tell she looked slightly shaken and he couldn’t blame her for that—he had no way of guessing what the two of them had seen during their time in the city. After the brief glimpse he’d experienced, he hoped General Shepherd would deploy additional troops soon. They needed more than just a fallen helicopter and three sets of boots on the ground to bring Washington back to the city it should be.
Chapter 5
“Mom, I’m hungry.”
Amy looked down at her son, her heart clenching inside her chest at the sight of him. James had dirt and sweat glistening across his face and an exhausted look in his eyes. They had been walking for over five hours and none of them had eaten anything real in over a day. She was failing her son and it was killing her inside.
Looking around at their surroundings, Amy noticed another sign for Saugatuck, the town they were slowly approaching. Although the last thing she wanted to do was head into a potentially highly populated and dangerous area, she knew they needed to find shelter for the night, food, and water. In fact, water was Amy’s highest concern. She’d given James he
r bottle of definitely clean water, and while Giles was continuing to drink the lake water they’d collected she still didn’t trust it as a clean water source. If they could find bottled water in Saugatuck, that would aid them immensely on the rest of their journey.
“All right James,” Amy smiled down at her son, “we’ll find some food soon, okay? And somewhere to spend the night.”
Giles looked over at Amy and then across at the sign for Saugatuck, understanding what she was referring to. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Giles questioned quietly, so James couldn’t hear what he was asking. “Maybe we should stay away from the towns?”
“I know,” Amy nodded back in reply. “But I don’t know where else we’re going to find food and water, or a place to spend the night. I don’t want to sleep outside. Not in a place I don’t recognize.”
Giles paused for a moment before replying, looking at James walking along with his head slumped down and his arms dangling hopelessly by his side. “You’re right,” he eventually agreed, “let’s stay for a night in Saugatuck. I’m sure we’ll be fine there.”
“And plus,” Amy added, “it should give us some indication of what a bigger city like Grand Rapids might be like. Any information we can gather will be useful.”