These Times of Sedition: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survivor Thriller (The Abandon Series Book 4)

by Ryan Schow

  Rowan looked at Isaiah and said, “I actually told him that.” To Aldrich, who was watching with a fair amount of humor in his swollen eyes, Rowan said, “He’s our comms guy. What did you want me to do?”

  Frowning, shaking his head, Isaiah said, “Whatever, man. Let’s just go already.”

  Aldrich said, “If you’re okay with it, we should take the Humvee.”

  “I insist,” Isaiah said, already en route.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rowan McDaniel

  The ride to the airport was smooth and quiet. They followed August down roads that already looked cleared away or had little in the way of obstructions. When they got to the airport, they saw the three planes sitting on the runway. They followed August to the nearest jet. He got off his motorcycle, took off his helmet, then somehow produced a brutal-looking carbine.

  When they were out of the Humvee, everyone stopped and watched August point the weapon at the jet’s pilots and mouth the words, “Open the door, drop the staircase!”

  “This is our IT guy?” Aldrich asked in disbelief.

  “He’s legit,” Marley heard herself say.

  The pilots looked at August, but neither moved. August gestured toward the folded staircase then made his fingers look like legs walking down a phantom staircase.

  The men didn’t move, so he kept the weapon trained on them with one hand, then did a three-finger countdown with the other.

  One of the pilots finally decided to leave the cockpit to lower the staircase. When the stairs were down, August entered, the weapon still leveled on the opening. The pilot stepped away from the IT man, causing Rowan, Isaiah, and Aldrich to look at each other.

  Rowan then looked at Marley and said, “On a dreamy scale of one to ten, what is he?”

  The others laughed, but Marley simply said, “An eleven.”

  The four of them boarded the plane where they found August in one of the luxury seats working on a computer.

  “What did you do about the pilot?” Aldrich asked.

  Without looking up, August lifted the carbine and said, “I told him we weren’t flying out of here, but he could leave when we were done if he just sat back and let me work. Rowan, go show him Prime Minister Bocharov’s head please.”

  Aldrich opened the bag. Rowan reached in, pulled out Sung Jong-un’s head, then dropped it back in and pulled out the Russian’s head on the next try.

  He walked to the front of the plane, knocked on the pilot’s cabin door, then walked inside and said to the two horror-stricken men, “I’m supposed to show you this.”

  There was blood dripping from where Rowan cut his head off.

  “If you come back there without being summoned first,” he added for impact, “we’ll kill you. Nod if you understand.”

  Startled, both the pilot and his co-pilot nodded.

  When Rowan left, he heard the cabin door close, then lock. To August, he said, “Um…so they shut and locked the door.”

  August waved his hand and said, “No worries, man. We’ll be out of here in a jiffy.”

  There was a man on the computer screen saying something to August in Russian.

  “Speak English bro,” August said.

  “Who are you?” the Russian man said in slow, guttural English.

  “It’s not me you’re going to want to talk to,” August said. Pointing over his shoulder, he said, “It’s them.”

  August looked up at Aldrich and nodded. The former VP took Bocharov’s head from Rowan, then held it before the computer screen. “My name is Marshall Aldrich and I’m the former Vice President of the United States. I am also a fierce patriot and someone you do not want to toy with.”

  “I know who you are,” the Russian scoffed.

  “Your prime minister came here to congratulate the powers that be in North Korea and Iran, but he also came here to coordinate a strategy for the conquering of America. I’m here to tell you that’s going to be a problem.”

  Stuffing the man’s head back in the black bag, he looked at the computer screen and said, “Do you know how long it takes to cut a man’s head off? Less time than you’d think, but Bocharov had a thick neck, so it took a little more time than usual.”

  The man’s face went pale.

  “I’ll tell you what, you Russian cocksucker, every one of you that comes over here, we’re going to have blades for. And every one of you that comes over here thinking we’ve been conquered will meet the same fate as Andros here.”

  “We do not need to set foot on your soil to touch you, American asshole.”

  “The first thing we did to your prime minister was shove a pencil through his eye. It was easy. So, you go ahead and drop your bombs, but you will waste them on people with no infrastructure. People who are likely dead already. There is nothing to gain here, no one who will take a knee to you, not one single soul who will give you anything of value. And if you think you can come here and occupy our farmlands, or sun your pale bodies on our beaches, this is when the knives will come out. We’ll kill your women and children first, and then we’ll do to you what we did to your prime minister. I hope I’m being clear.”

  “You just rattled the wrong cage,” the man hissed.

  “Quit with the posturing, Comrade. Go sell your oil and your natural gas and live your miserable lives in peace. There’s nothing for you here but death.”

  “I should say the same to you, sir,” the man said in a near-choking rant. “You can bend us over with your energy independence and your love of Ukraine, but you will not hobble us again and you most certainly will not break us. You have only pissed us off, and you know what?”

  “I’m all ears,” Aldrich said.

  The man abruptly cut the comms, to which August said, “I think he had enough.”

  “If I wanted your opinion, GQ nerd,” Aldrich said, “I’d promptly beat it out of you.”

  August stood and said, “You want to link up comms next? Because you can take the helm on this if you feel you’re up to speed.”

  Either the Russian put Aldrich in a foul mood, or he was still angry and caught in a rage-dump. Staring at the IT guy, there was nothing Aldrich could say, so he just turned beet red before walking away.

  “That’s what I thought,” August said.

  “He’s not mad at you,” Rowan assured him. “He’s in go mode.”

  “I know that,” August said. “He’s just pissed off because it’s all starting to hit home, what happened to our country, what you guys did, the audacity of these mutants…”

  Rowan looked at Aldrich and knew August was right.

  The next plane was easier to gain access to. This was the jet Sung Jong-un had summoned for her trip to America.

  “Raise the Supreme Leader,” August said to the pilot when they were inside. He was pointing his carbine at the man, so the conversation went well until it didn’t.

  “There is no way to reach her,” the pilot said.

  “Her?” Aldrich and Isaiah asked at the same time.

  “Kim Jong-un is ill,” the pilot said. “His sister is standing in. You will not want to talk with her.”

  “How bad can she be?” Aldrich asked. “Because she seems pretty relaxed to me.”

  “I won’t contact her,” the man said. “I have family there.”

  August shot him in the meat of the thigh.

  “CALL HER!” he roared.

  The man hobbled into the cockpit, reached out to the mainland, then said something in Korean. After that, he waited, perspiration covering his face. A voice came on the line and the call went to video.

  Rowan reached into the plastic bag, pulled out Sung Jong-un’s head, and said, “America is calling for the Supreme Leader’s sister. I trust she is available to take my call.”

  A moment later, the woman came on, looking agitated.

  Aldrich crowded in beside Rowan and said, “We’re going to keep your plane here until we find the right people, the most perfect killers we have, and then we’re coming over
there to that garbage heap of a country of yours and we’re going to cut your head off, just like we cut her head off.”

  Rowan showed the Supreme Leader’s sister Sung’s head. The woman promptly cut off comms.

  “Last one,” August said.

  Again, August had to shoot one of the pilots to get the other to comply. When they finally gained access to the Iranian’s onboard computer, August looked at the tech and said, “I don’t need the pilot. This tech is from the Stone Ages.” Without looking up, he handed Rowan the carbine and said, “You’re up.” Rowan went and shot the other pilot. By the time the man expelled his last breath, August had raised the President of Iran.

  August said to Rowan, “This is where you channel Walker.”

  Rowan’s skin went cold at the mention of his uncle, but then a familiar fire rose in him and he felt a blazing vengeance take hold.

  He said, “My name is Rowan McDaniel and I participated in the slaughter of your minister of defense. I just want you to know that we’re all off the grid now and this is the middle ages, which means if you don’t pull the supreme leader out of his boyfriend’s lap and tell him to turn the boats around, we’re going to gut every one of you sons of pigs the second you hit our shores. Nod if you understand, you ridiculous freaking sow.”

  “I understand you and your simple English just fine, boy,” the man said.

  Rowan then held up the minister’s decapitated head and said, “By the time we got to him, we had already taken Sung Jong-un’s and Andros Bocharov’s heads. Our blade was dull so it took longer than normal. In case you’re wondering, he bled a lot, and he screamed a lot. Do you know what else he did?”

  “You have no idea of the monster you have unleashed,” the man roared.

  Rowan rolled his eyes and made the “useless talking” hand. “Blah, blah, blah…you sound like the other two countries. So just shut your cake hole for a second and listen to me good. We’re ready for you. There are millions of us, ready for tens of thousands of you, or more. You took out our infrastructure, and the weak here will die off, but that will leave the strong, the violent, the absolute worst of society, and all we’ll do is wait for you. If you know what’s best for you, old man, you’ll turn your boats around and stop this foolish pursuit. It’s either that or we’ll do to your pawns what we did to your minister. I told you he soiled himself, right? And that we’re going to bury him in pigs’ guts? Yeah, he won’t get his seventy-two virgins. None of you will.”

  The man spit on the camera, then cut his comms.

  Rowan turned and looked at Aldrich who looked back at him and said, “We’ve done all we can do. It’s time to turn our attention inward.”

  “What do you mean?” Rowan asked.

  “Rhett Jensen and Diesel Daley unleashed these street demons upon us, and now it’ll be mop-up time.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” Marley said.

  “It won’t be,” he replied. “But they’re a headless animal who has yet to understand that it’s dead.”

  “We’ll make them understand,” Isaiah said.

  Outside the plane, they heard another car arrive. August grabbed the carbine, checked the chamber, then proceeded to the jet’s opening. When he saw who arrived, he lowered his weapon and said, “We’re good.”

  Down by August’s motorcycle and the group’s Humvee, Hwa-Young was getting out of the car Aldrich and his crew had given her and Rowan to drive.

  As they crossed the runway toward the vehicles, Isaiah overturned the bag of heads, letting them tumble and roll away, landing wherever they may. He then tossed the empty bag and kept walking. Rowan glanced back only once to see where the heads had stopped rolling. Good riddance, he thought. That’s when he locked eyes with Hwa-Young. He saw her disappointment as clear as day. It was heavy and raw.

  “Don’t worry,” Aldrich said flippantly as he approached her, “there will be plenty of killing left to do.”

  “I wanted to kill them!” she roared.

  Aldrich bowed up on her again and said, “Well you didn’t.” She blew out a hiss, a sharp sound meant to intimidate; her frown deepened when she realized he wasn’t backing down. Aldrich was having none of this. “You’d better figure out which side you’re on.”

  “Don’t push her,” Rowan warned.

  It was too late.

  Hwa-Young punched Aldrich in the solar plexus, then stepped back fast and snap-kicked him in the sternum, kicking him in the same place she’d punched him seconds ago.

  He backed up, unable to breathe.

  She grabbed his ear, pulled him down and said, “You think you’re the only one who wants retaliation? I’m in next time or you and I will have a problem I’ll force you to deal with.”

  He nodded then pushed her back.

  She held up her fingers, counting down from three to one. When she put her finger down, his chest loosening up and he managed a breath, although it was thin and labored.

  Was she was actually counting down the time when he could breathe? Rowan wondered. He was impressed.

  “We need to find out who is working under Rhett Jensen,” Hwa-Young said more to the group than any one person. “Then we need to kill our way to the bottom.”

  Rowan said, “I agree, but first we have to get home. That won’t be easy.”

  Marley said, “I’m going with Rowan.”

  “Then this is where we part ways,” Isaiah told her.

  “You’re staying with them?” Marley asked.

  Isaiah looked at Aldrich and then Hwa-Young, and then he said, “We have to amass an army in case these idiots actually try to make landfall. And that’s after we get done with the Hayseed Rebellion and their ilk.”

  Aldrich was standing up again, keeping a careful distance between himself and Hwa-Young.

  “How do you feel about having a tagalong?” Isaiah asked the former VP.

  “I feel good about it,” he said.

  “What about two tagalongs?” Hwa-Young asked.

  Rowan turned to her, surprised. “You want to go with them?”

  “What else am I going to do?” she asked.

  “Come home with us,” Rowan said. “Live the peaceful life you dreamt of.”

  “There is no peace here now, Rowan. Look at what we just did. If these people are going to attack the country, we need to be ready.”

  “There will be men and women for this,” Marley said, “people built to fight.”

  “I’m one of those people,” Hwa-Young said, fierce.

  Rowan fought to come to terms with this, but in the end, he knew that whatever Hwa-Young did was her choice. She was a warrior, made for one thing only right now.

  Aldrich looked at Hwa-Young and said, “If you promise not to hit me like that again, it would be good to have you with us. We can use all the fighters we can get. But it won’t be easy. We’re no longer funded and the nation’s situation is rather dire.”

  Hwa-Young nodded once with dogged determination. “I have never known an easy life, so this will be no different than what I am already used to.”

  Changing the subject, August looked at Rowan and Marley and said, “If it’s just the two of you, I know where there’s a car that survived the EMP.”

  “Does it actually work?” Rowan asked.

  August nodded.

  “Well, aren’t you the answer man today?” Marley said, trying to appear neutral, but looking like she might be a bit smitten.

  Rowan looked at her and quietly said, “Really?”

  “So I guess it’s good-bye?” Isaiah asked. Rowan and Marley both nodded.

  “If we need you,” Aldrich asked, “will you take up arms for America?”

  Rowan said, “Does a bear crap in the woods?”

  Aldrich shook the man’s hand and said, “You’re everything I hoped you would be and a little bit more.”

  “You know where I live, right?” Rowan asked. Aldrich nodded. “What about my closest friends?”

  “Did you think we wouldn’t put
together a full package on you?” Aldrich asked.

  “I suppose I didn’t,” Rowan said.

  “We have the addresses of your family, friends, and acquaintances, but we’ll only find you if we need you.”

  Rowan said, “I appreciate it.”

  Aldrich nodded, then said, “On the off chance that something happens to your home base, if you decide to bug out, find a way to leave word. If things kick off with these clowns, I’ll send someone for you.”

  “Roger that,” Rowan said.

  Knowing it was time to say good-bye, Rowan went and hugged Hwa-Young. “I really hope I see you again,” he told her.

  “I hope so, too,” she replied.

  He turned and shook Aldrich’s hand, then said, “When you told me back in Columbus that my fiancée, my baby, and my parents were safe, what did you mean when you said ‘baby’?”

  “I meant baby,” he said. “Like really small baby. Like babies that cry, poop, sleep, and nurse.”

  Aldrich laughed a little at his description of children, but for Rowan, the news was both devastating and brutal.

  “So my fiancée wasn’t pregnant then?” he asked, hoping he’d misunderstood the man.

  “Oh, shoot,” Aldrich said, suddenly quiet. “You didn’t know, did you?”

  “Constanza had the baby?” Marley said, excited at first, then scared-looking when she found out this was news to Rowan.

  Aldrich slowly nodded, then stepped back when he saw the light in Rowan’s eyes change colors. “I will hit you back,” he said, looking between Rowan and Hwa-Young.

  Rowan shook his head in disgust and let the steam blow off. “It’s alright, man. I’m not going to hit you. If there’s any consolation, it’s that the nation is now a bit safer for my little Rose to grow up in.”

  Marley took his arm, silently consoling him. At that moment, all he could think of was getting back to Constanza and his child, the child she brought into this world without him.

  She must have been so scared, he thought. His heart broke for her. And for Rose.

  Rowan shook Isaiah’s hand, thanked the man for taking care of Marley, then didn’t act surprised when Isaiah broke into what Rowan assumed was a rare smile. “Actually, I think she took care of me as much, or more, than I took care of her.”