Forsaken World | Book 6 | Redemption

by Watson, Thomas A.

  “Copy,” England replied.

  “Damn,” Denny laughed. “That captain is almost gargling.”

  “Heath, Dwain, in the power house. Momma, get a group and move to the hay bales. Momma Mary, get a group and set up on the hillside here overlooking the valley. Everyone else, come with us,” Lance said jogging to the UTV Ian had driven up in, and everyone scattered.

  Denny was mad when Sandy called him for her group because Jennifer was already in the track she’d driven over and Lilly was climbing in the turret. He turned to see Lori climbing in the other track to drive with Rhonda in the turret. They hadn’t liked it when Sandy called them for her group but hadn’t said a word. The Ladybugs became livid when Mary called them for her group.

  Tracks, buggies, and UTVs sped down the drive as the clubhouse called everyone, telling them choppers were inbound to talk with the Wild Ones. Lance and Ian pulled into the three building assembly area in the valley to see all the work crews standing outside and armed. They told them to spread out as Jennifer spun the track around to face out over the valley.

  Grabbing his PTT, “Clubhouse,” Lance called out. “Wake up the thunder bots in the valley and keep on manual.”

  “Copy,” Amie answered, and Lance reached under his mask to adjust his earbud.

  “Have Halo keep a lock on the choppers until they land,” Ian called over his radio.

  “Was goin’ to do that unless you ordered otherwise,” Amie informed him.

  “I like the Geek Squad over the clubhouse,” Ian said, glancing at his watch.

  With the drones up, a new room had been added to the clubhouse and only those approved by the Geek Squad manned it. It monitored the drones and controlled some bots inside and outside the perimeter. So far, only sixteen from Geek Squad had been cleared to run it by Amie, but others were being trained from the Geek Squad and other groups.

  Waiting at the road leading down from the step, Lance grinned to see Dino come running off the paved road and up to them. “Hey, I patted the backseat for you to get in,” Lance said, reaching down to pet Dino.

  “Brah, Dino doesn’t like to ride when we go fast because he can’t hold on,” Ian pointed out.

  “Another reason I love thumbs,” Lance chuckled.

  Right on time the three choppers flew in from the north, but only the small Kiowa landed on the blacktop road at the base of the rise. The two Blackhawks spread out over the valley. One came to a hover in the east above the hillside over the partially-filled lake. The other came to a hover in the south over the valley floor. Neither was more than a thousand yards away.

  Leaning to Ian, “If I didn’t know better, I would think they’re trying to display a show of force,” Lance grinned.

  Watching the small chopper shut down and three figures climb out the back, “And he gargled so well before,” Ian sighed, then grabbed his PTT. “Clubhouse, you have lock on the two still in the air?”

  “Copy, three big gun bots apiece, you want more? I can shift two gun bots to assist,” Amie asked.

  “Those choppers survive one-inch bearings from the big gun bots, I’ll give them a reach around,” Lance laughed.

  “Clubhouse, big bots are fine. Be ready on my call,” Ian laughed out.

  Two soldiers moved behind one man and held their M4s low but ready. Because they were at war with the military, the boys had studied rank. They soon saw the captain bars on the figure leading. “Hands off those weapons, cocksuckers!” Lance yelled out, holding his own rifle and ready to engage.

  England said something over his shoulder and the two soldiers let their M4s hang at their sides as they followed England up. “I very clearly told you for all choppers to set down,” Ian said in a loud voice so England could hear him.

  “It’s common doctrine. They’re providing cover,” England replied, studying the two figures wearing skull masks and standing alone with a huge dog. Shifting his eyes, he looked over at a vehicle with tracks and another figure wearing a mask, manning a weapon in a turret he had never seen before. All around him, he could see figures wearing skull masks near the three buildings and aiming a variety of weapons. “I ask for your group to lower their weapons as I ordered mine,” he said, stopping ten feet from them. “I’m here to talk.”

  “Well, at least you said ‘ask’,” Ian huffed. “You’re alive only because you listened. I’m not ‘asking’ my group to do shit, ass licker. You killed your choppers by not following my orders,” Ian said grabbing his PTT. “Drop ‘em,” Ian called out.

  From the north, south, east, and west, ‘Rrrrrrrr’ sounded as streams of one-inch ball bearings left barrels at five thousand feet per second. The two Blackhawks never had a chance to evade as rivers of one-inch steel blew through them. Because the destruction was so fast and violent, the choppers barely spiraled before they crashed down. In the space of seconds, the choppers went from mechanical marvels to flaming wrecks.

  “You fuckers even twitch and you’ll die slowly,” Lance warned as a thunder bot rolled from beside the power house across the valley floor and skidded to a stop, aiming at the parked chopper on the road. “You were given instructions and didn’t follow them. A lesson was needed.”

  Still looking behind him at the flaming wrecks, England just panted hard. Neither chopper had taken evasive action, dropped flares or chaff before they’d been utterly destroyed. “Each had ten troops aboard,” he mumbled, realizing this group couldn’t be intimidated and had the means to do whatever they wanted. They had heard the rumors and the warnings from the Trading Post, but none in Buckhorn had believed them. Now, England knew that had been a mistake and his need to survive kicked in.

  “If the fire doesn’t cook them enough from turning into stinkers, we’ll cap ‘em,” Lance smirked as the two soldiers behind England glared at Lance’s mask.

  “We’ve proven it takes a lot of heat to hurt the brain,” Ian pointed out like England wasn’t even there.

  Shrugging, “I’ll let the Ladybugs use their bows,” Lance said.

  Staring at England, “Since you followed instructions, you are alive,” Ian pointed out. “What do you have to say to the most awesome motherfuckers in history?”

  Breaking out in a sweat, “I, um,” England stammered. “I bring orders from General Wade over the FEMA camp in Buckhorn. All citizens, regardless of residence, in this area are under his direction and control. You need to report to the camp ASAP. Troops will move in to assist. All equipment and supplies are to be confiscated.” When England finished, he cringed, expecting a bullet any second.

  “Yeah, that really sounds like they came here wanting to lick our boots,” Lance groaned.

  “I’m just following orders,” England panted. “That’s all any of the troops with me are doing.”

  “Hey, dildo,” Ian said, and England turned to him. “Glad you remembered your name,” Ian chuckled behind his mask. “What do you think now?”

  Swallowing nervously, “The Wild Ones are the most awesome motherfuckers in history,” England said.

  “Ha!” Ian shouted. “They only see a fraction of the destruction we can call upon and they know.”

  Racking his brain, England was trying to think of anything to get out of this alive. He had dealt with gangs of all descriptions, and even rogue military units, but none like the Wild Ones. A few at Buckhorn had said they were a rogue unit, but England had disagreed because General Wade was still in charge. Some of the gangs and military units had even taken out helicopters but not without losses, and never so quickly. England had heard mini and other chain guns before and whatever had taken out his choppers was the new tech reportedly held by the Wild Ones. There wasn’t a doubt it was a multi barrel gun because only those could fire thousands of rounds per minute. But all England had heard was the stream of the sonic cracks of projectiles.

  “Dildo,” Lance said, and England turned. “I grant you permission to offer your opinion.”

  The two before him sounded young but weren’t built young. “I shall n
otify my command that this area belongs to the Wild Ones and we’ll leave you alone,” England offered.

  Pointing at England’s chest, “I suspect that’s a radio to notify your command?” Lance asked, and England knew better than to lie so he nodded. “Radio and tell them of the awesome motherfuckers you got to meet today.”

  Grabbing the microphone on his chest, “This is Captain England to base,” he called out.

  “This is base,” a voice answered. “What is the status of the meeting?”

  “Both Blackhawks destroyed with all crews lost. No damage done to Wild Ones. I’ve delivered the message I was ordered to,” England said now soaked in sweat despite the cool temperature.

  It was a few minutes and another voice came over the radio. “This is General Wade. Captain, I take it you are with the Wild Ones now?”

  “Yes, sir,” England answered, then continued before Wade could speak. England just wanted to get out of this alive. In a few meetings he had been nervous, and even once had been held at gunpoint, but not like this. “Sir, I suggest letting the Wild Ones operate in this area they have declared under their own rule of law. They control the air around them, covering their declared zone with next generation technology. They have control of this area from infected like reported.”

  Letting the transmit bar go, England prayed in his mind that Wade would take the hint and keep his ego in check. England knew unless the Wild Ones gave up, there was no moving in force to attack them. Moving across the land now meant getting ripped apart or if you were lucky, dying from hydrogen sulfide from the bodies of stinkers around you. Only small groups could move across the land and stay hidden but if they were seen by a large group of infected, they had to run. That was the only way supplies could be gathered, and infected weren’t the only things that had to be avoided. No group encountered yet had the stores of ammo to kill massive numbers of infected to even pacify their area, but it seemed the Wild Ones did. When the radio squelched, England tensed up. “If they remain in the four counties they have declared, I will grant them sovereignty,” Wade answered.

  England nearly fainted with relief hearing Wade’s remark, then he noticed the two in front of him didn’t appear pleased. In fact, it looked like both had tensed their bodies up. “Oh, he grants us,” Lance snarled.

  “We remain where the fuck we want, bitches,” Ian spat.

  Suddenly, one had a pistol out and two loud booms sounded in England’s face. Even with the heat of the blasts and swearing he’d felt the bullets streaking past his cheeks, England never moved as two bodies hit the ground behind him. Hearing two suppressed shots near the road, England knew the pilot and copilot were dead too.

  “Those fuckers were looking at me in the wrong tone of voice,” Lance said, shoving his pistol in his drop holster. Since they weren’t needed in the track anymore, Lilly and Jennifer got out and walked over.

  “Damn, Ian is sexy being bad cop,” Jennifer crooned.

  “You’re a good dildo,” Ian told England, removing the microphone from his hand. “This is the Wild Ones,” Ian sang out. “If any of you ever attempt to enter our domain, we will rain down destruction. I tried to let you bask in the breathtaking awesomeness but no, you wanted to see yourselves as equal to us. Only now do you understand, resistance is futile,” Ian sneered.

  “My captain came under truce so return him,” Wade demanded.

  Pressing the transmit bar, “You should’ve asked,” Ian advised and England wavered on his feet, trying not to pass out.

  Several seconds passed before Wade gave a strangled reply. “I’m asking the Wild Ones to return my officer.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Ian laughed out, and England knew Wade was yelling back at Buckhorn. “If you or any others from Buckhorn venture here, everyone there dies.” Before Wade could answer, Ian reached over and turned the radio off.

  “Please, I’ll tell you anything,” England begged as Jennifer and Lilly each moved between them, with each beside her own beau.

  “Dildo, you really think we haven’t scouted your shit?!” Lance cried out, and England just blinked.

  “It has been a few months and we didn’t go in every structure,” Ian pointed out, and England just prayed he would be of some use.

  “There are over fifty thousand people in that camp! That camp is only fifteen hundred acres, that’s over thirty bodies per acre! Brah, we’re good, but come on!” Lance cried out throwing up his hands. Hearing Lance admit the two had limits impressed Lilly, but shocked Jennifer.

  Reaching over and taking the pistol off of England, “Did I not steal that dumbass’s pistol?” Ian asked calmly and England started panting, remembering Wade shooting three people in September because his pistol had been stolen. “Everyone was watching each other and not the shadows. I’m telling you, we could’ve gone inside the command building again.”

  “We got pictures and the layout, why in the pussy snot would we need to go back?!” Lance cried out. “We weren’t doing a deed!”

  Holding his chin high, “I wanted to show Jennifer she could do it,” Ian said proudly.

  “She pissed her pants when that soldier woke up in the barracks! The others were asleep, why worry?! The command building was always packed with people awake!” Lance shouted. Jennifer went to agree with Lance but Lilly grabbed her arm, stopping her.

  “You pissed your pants when you snuck in Mr. Oliver’s room and he woke up,” Ian stated calmly.

  “The Prime Directive said we couldn’t hurt anyone!” Lance screamed. “Yeah, I pissed my pants, bitch! That fucker had a .357 on the nightstand!”

  “We took it,” Ian said calmly.

  “AFTER THAT BITCH WENT BACK TO SLEEP!” Lance bellowed.

  “Hate to interrupt,” Jennifer chimed in. “What the hell did you sneak into the Olivers for?”

  As Lance glared at Ian breathing heavily, Ian just glanced down at Jennifer. “We replaced his aftershave with rubbing alcohol and shaved his eyebrows off,” Ian answered. Very clearly, Jennifer remembered that from two years ago. Mr. Oliver had eyebrows that looked like fur, way past the caterpillars Nina Banks had for eyebrows. “She could’ve done it,” Ian stated to Lance, but kept his eyes on Jennifer.

  “Can she?” Lance shouted. “Yes, she can. But Jennifer doesn’t think so and if you don’t believe it, you can’t do it! You know that!” Keeping her face still, Lilly rolled her eyes to look at the sky. The fact the two could, at the drop of a hat, get into an argument to prove a point to others just amazed her to no end.

  Then, like nothing had happened, Lance pointed to England. “If the fucker doesn’t give us some good shit, we feed him to the stinker kids. They can’t bite hard and it’ll take a while for him to die,” Lance offered.

  “I’ll give you everything I know,” England vowed.

  “You do, and we’ll let you return to your idiot general,” Ian chuckled and England winced. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll want to return after your stay with us.”

  “Just let me go,” England begged.

  “You give us good information and we’ll let you go with one hundred rounds,” Ian offered.

  “And six days’ worth of food, but only if the information is something we don’t have,” Lance threw in. Reaching over and taking Lance’s gloved hand in hers, even in this hellish, forsaken world, Lilly didn’t think the planet was prepared for Lance and Ian.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Trading Post

  It was close to Thanksgiving, even though only a few would celebrate with a feast in the Trading Post. Many there could only be thankful for being alive and a few weren’t even thankful for that, praying for death. In his office waiting on Bren, Victor went over the logs and inventory. When the door opened, he looked up and saw one of his security holding the door open to let Blake in. “You see Bren?” Victor asked.

  Nodding as he moved over and sat in one of the plush chairs in front of Victor’s desk, “He’s coming,” Blake said.

  Closing the log he’
d been reading, “Let’s move to the table so Bren can have room,” Victor said, but Blake knew it wasn’t a suggestion. Even though Blake was the oldest and the family business had been passed to him first, that had changed two years after Victor joined the family business. In two years, Victor had been equal to Blake and in five years, Blake worked for and reported to Victor. Blake was certain if Victor had been dropped in the middle of a desert, he could’ve made money selling sand to nomads. Under Victor’s leadership, the family holdings were now in the billions.

  Spreading out his notes and supplies, Blake turned to see Victor drop in the chair at the head of the table. For the first time in two decades, there was one person who was viewed as equal to Victor, and they were waiting on him. It surprised Blake that Victor didn’t seem to resent the fact of Bren’s standing. It absolutely floored Blake that Victor seemed to really like Bren. Victor had never shown or displayed emotions to anyone. To Blake, it seemed Bren was the first friend Victor had ever really had. Victor actually talked and shot shit with Bren.

  As he sat down, Blake paused in realization. That’s why Victor talked and treated Bren differently. Victor viewed Bren as an equal. Victor had been married twice. The first wife had been thrown out because she’d complained of the mistresses Victor had living in the house. Victor, being Victor, destroyed her. Despite the fact Victor was a billionaire, the wife had been decreed to pay alimony to Victor. Oh, and Victor made sure she did, even though the ex-wife worked as a cashier at a drugstore. His last wife had died in Dallas or was presumed dead. She had taken Victor’s jet to go shopping and the world had gone to hell.

  Victor had called and had the jet fly back, leaving his wife so he could use the jet to get anywhere. There were other jets Victor owned at his disposal, but that jet had the longest range. But by the time the jet had turned around, there had been nowhere to fly. The pandemic was global and America was faring better than the rest of the globe. Victor had kids but none by any wife. At last count before civilization had died, Victor had over sixteen but paid nothing to support them or their mothers. Blake knew for a fact that only three of the mothers had been over eighteen because that’d been one of his jobs, making sure Victor remained above the law of common people. A few mothers had tried to get access to the wealth but had wound up with the short end of the stick, if they were lucky. If they weren’t lucky, they died mysteriously. The six executive guards who protected Victor would be called in if Blake couldn’t get a situation under control, and they asked no questions.