Life After: Episode 4 (A Serial Novel)

Episode 4

by

JJ Holden

Following a civil war that left the United States in ruins, the
remaining few who managed to escape the Imperialistic Army and the horrors of
their death camps must unite and fight to reclaim their country.

Copyright © 2013 by JJ Holden

jjholdenbooks.blogspot.com

Kindle Edition, License Notes

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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters,
and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead,
organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

* * *

Clark looked at
Charles and saw the fear in his eyes. With Wesley’s pistol now pressed against
the back of his head, there was nothing he could do. Clark
knew the old man’s life dangled by a thread gripped tightly by the hand of an
Imperialist. He knew that Wesley didn’t care about the old man,
nor
about the others. Wesley only wanted Clark
alive to use him as a means to find the rebel base in order to expose it to the
government.

“Okay,” Clark said. “I’ll lead
you to there as long as you spare them.”

Clark waited as Wesley considered the offer.

“Lay your weapon on the ground, Clark,”
Wesley said.
“Slowly.”

Clark placed his rifle on the
ground.

Wesley gripped his gun tighter. “Now join the others.”

Clark grabbed the hand of the
woman he rescued from the concentration camp and walked towards the boys.

“Just know that I won’t feed them,” Wesley said. “I won’t give
any of them a single bite of my food.”

Clark didn’t want to push their luck by attempting to compromise
with Wesley. He knew it wouldn’t do them any good. All he could do was lead him
down south to the base and think of a plan along the way. To allow Wesley to
expose the base would be a major setback for the rebels, so he knew that his
promise to take him there would merely buy him time to think of a way to turn
the tables and reassume control.

“Start walking,” Wesley said to the group. He crouched down at
picked up Clark’s rifle.

The group walked ahead of the madman who now had the rifle
pointing at them. Clark looked back and saw
Wesley’s wicked smile as he stared at the woman.

“Turn around,” Wesley barked.

Clark did as instructed. He looked ahead into the forest and
heard their footsteps on the twig-littered ground accompanied by Wesley’s heavy
breathing behind them.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Wesley asked the woman, who by
now was barely able to walk from lack of sustenance.

The woman continued to walk and did not answer.

“Are you deaf?” Wesley asked. “Tell me your name now!”

She spoke with a firm voice. “Rebecca.”

Clark watched Rebecca out of the
corner of his eye. He knew she had to be strong for what she survived so far on
her horrendous journey. He saw her long brown hair that offset her pale skin,
covered with spots of dirt and blood. Though blood dripped from the back of her
legs as she walked, she did not slow her pace. She grimaced with every dozen or
so steps, but made no other indication that she was in pain.

“If you play your cards right, Rebecca,” Wesley said, “I’ll give
you something to eat.”

Clark shook his head. Filthy pig, he thought.
Downright
rotten pig.

The group walked until they saw a clearing. The wind picked up
slightly and whipped through the trees. Clark stood at the tree line and looked
out at the large concrete-covered valley below to view something he hadn’t seen
in a long time: a department store. The sprawling parking lot was littered with
several abandoned cars, though no living soul could be seen.

Clark turned around to look at Wesley. “Maybe we should go check
it out.” Clark said. “We could use another break.”

Wesley aimed the rifle at Clark
and smiled. “I should kill you right now for saying such things. We do what I
say, and I say we need to keep walking.”

Clark put his hands up in the
air. “If you want to kill an unarmed man like the coward that you are, then do
it.”

“Maybe I’ll just kill one of them first…”

Clark stepped closer to Wesley
and heard the others back away and
move
behind him.
“You’ll have to get through me first, Wesley. As long as I’m alive, I won’t let
you lay a finger on them.”

Wesley stepped closer, keeping his aim. “Have you lost your mind,
Clark?”

Clark kept his hands raised.
“Not as much as you lost yours.”

* * *

Owen hastened his pace as he passed by the
concentration camp. He heard gunfire and screaming from the terrorized inmates.
Good riddance, he thought.

With his gun slung over his shoulder, he ran through the forest
until he saw him, an Imperial soldier at the mercy of three adult rebels,
likely the same rebels that ambushed the troops he saw earlier that day. With
the rebels were two boys. He’d save them for last.

“Finally,” he muttered. He hid behind the brush and took aim. For
a moment, he wondered why only one rebel had a gun, but then he realized that
it looked like a government-issued rifle that likely belonged to the Imperial
soldier who kept his hands raised into the air. He knew the unarmed rebels
would be easy targets. He couldn’t wait to finish them off, one by one.

Owen took a deep breath as he continued to aim at the
blond-haired rebel’s skull. When he exhaled, he would squeeze off his first
shot and the hunt would be underway.

* * *

Rebecca stared at the back of Clark’s head. She
shuttered every time she realized he wore the uniform that represented the
regime that took everything from her. She thought of her mother, who died en
route to the concentration camp from which she escaped. Her younger brother
didn’t make it past selection, since he looked under twelve and therefore not
fit for hard labor. Since she was nineteen and athletic, she was selected to
work at the camp until her usefulness had been depleted. After a month in the
camp and living off of half the caloric intake she was used to, she wasn’t
working as fast or hard as the most recent inmates and condemned to death by
firing squad.

She stepped back slowly towards the edge where the steep decline
began, ready to run for it.
Ready to escape another
precarious situation.
Her heart raced as she waited for something to
happen…anything.

Then she heard the loud crack of a gun. She felt the old man grab
onto her arm and pull her as he ran down the hill. The boys were by their side
as they raced through the high grass and weeds that seemed to exist only to
slow their pace. She felt the strain in her legs as she ran past a few cars in
the parking lot towards the large building. She thought of the man who had
saved her and his ultimate fate. The raging lunatic who killed him was now on
the hunt for them.

But then she saw him to her right.

“Clark!”

Clark turned and looked at her, but did not speak. A single
gunshot rang out from behind them. Rebecca ran even faster when she heard the
window of a nearby car shatter moments before another shot rang out.

Then she heard Tyler scream. Rebecca stopped abruptly when she saw
the boy hit the ground. There he lay, in an open space between two cars,
holding his leg.

Clark ran over to Tyler, crouched down, and picked up the boy.
Blood flowed from a wound on the boy’s leg, but there was no time to wait. They
had to get around the side of the building, out of sight from whoever was
shooting at them.

One more shot was fired before they reached the side, though
nobody was hit. It was almost as if the person firing was taunting them.

“Check the doors,” Clark said.

Rebecca saw him stop to check one of the metal doors and she ran
to the next one to do the same. She turned the knob only to find it was locked.
She heard Clark’s boots on the blacktop as he raced towards a loading dock.

“Over here,” Clark said.

Rebecca heard Tyler moan in agony as she followed Clark up the
steps to the loading dock. She felt Thomas nearly run into her as he and
Charles made it to the top of the steps.

Near the building, Rebecca saw Clark lay Tyler down near the bay doors where inventory
was unloaded from trucks in happier times. One door was raised about a foot and
a half from the ground, enough space to allow them to enter the building.

Rebecca pulled off a piece of her ragged clothing and wrapped it
around Tyler’s
leg, tying it tight in order to stop the bleeding. “I’ll take care of him,” she
said.

Clark went under the door first and within seconds, called for
them.
“Hurry!”

They helped Tyler
get under the door as Thomas slipped under a few feet away with little trouble.
Rebecca hoped it would be as easy for her. She
laid
on
her back with her head facing the door and felt the concrete pull her shirt up
slightly as she pressed her heels against the pavement. She reached her hands
under the door and felt someone grab them, pulling her slowly into the dim
room.

Clark spoke softly. “Charles?”

Rebecca saw the old man’s head as he worked his way to the other
side. Once they helped Charles inside, the group moved slowly away from the
door. The sunlight that shown in through the gap in the bay door was enough to
allow them to see outlines of large boxes. As she backed away from the door,
she saw a shadow move along the bottom of the door and stop near the middle.
She turned around and saw Clark waving for her
to come towards him.

“Get down behind one of these boxes,” he whispered.

“Are you okay, Tyler?” Thomas asked quietly.

Tyler grimaced as he held his leg. “I…I don’t know.”

“Quiet you two,” Rebecca said, sitting down next to Clark and the
boys. She poked her head out just enough to see the shadow at the door. As the
shadow moved, she heard the sound of boots clap against the pavement.

They sat and waited in silence. Rebecca held her breath and
waited, each second feeling like a minute as the shadow moved almost in slow
motion across the bay door. She closed her eyes and hoped that when she opened
them, everything would go back to normal. She wished it was all one big
nightmare. When she opened her eyes she was still in the dim room and the
figure was still there. Perhaps they know we are here and want to taunt us, she
thought. Perhaps they are waiting and listening, hoping to hear any noise we
make. Any indication of life and they would pounce. So she sat completely
still, closed her eyes, and prayed.

* * *

Owen stood at the bay door. He knew they were inside,
likely waiting to attack him if he dared enter. He looked down at the blood on
the pavement and thought of the boy he shot. The boy was an easy target, and he
figured it would be a way to get the attention of the old man and the woman. He
recalled watching the Imperial soldier help the boy up and rush him to safety.
So flabbergasted by why a soldier would defect to join the rebel cause, he
delayed his last shot before they ran out of sight. Looking on the brighter
side, he thought of the opportunity he had before him.
Five
unarmed terrorists to hunt down in the confines of a department store.
He salivated at the thought. He got enough pleasure out of hunting them in the
wilderness, but now, here they were, caged up and ready to die. From afar, he
would have been able to kill at least one or two of them, but now he looked
forward to killing all five up close, able to see the fear in their eyes
seconds before he destroyed them. He couldn’t wait to enact retribution for all
the terror they caused his countrymen.

He recalled the day before and how desperate he was to find a
rebel to kill. When he first started hunting down enemy combatants, it was just
another part of his job description. Now, vengeance was not just his duty, it
was his passion.

“Stand here and guard these doors,” Owen said loudly. “I doubt
they slipped in there, but you never know.”

He walked along the door until he reached a small flight of
steps. “I’ll check the other doors and loop around and let you know if I find
any of the doors unlocked,” he said.

Owen gripped his rifle as he descended the steps and rushed to
the front of the building. In short order, he was at the main entrance to the
store. He stepped closer to the doors as he spoke under his breath: “Prepare to
die.”

* * *

Clark felt his heart
pounding as the man outside the door spoke to his comrade. He knew they
couldn’t leave the same way they entered, not until the men left. He figured
they might be better off going out a different way.

“I’ll go check out the store,” Clark
said in a whisper. “Stay here and watch that door.”

Rebecca stood up. “I’m going with you.”

“It’s better if I go alone.”

As he turned around, he could hear Tyler’s muffled sobbing and Charles consoling
him. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t worry.”

Was it ever going to be okay? Clark
thought. There were plenty of things to worry about.

He stepped away from the group and towards a door at the end of
the large stock room. The door was barely visible since the only light was
coming from the beneath the door. He could see outlines of boxes as he went. He
opened the door and entered the back section of the store.

Looking up, he saw rays of sunshine pour through the numerous
skylights situated on the high ceiling of the department store. He scanned the
area in which he stood and saw that he was in the sporting goods section. He
walked down one of the isles and saw baseball supplies scattered on the floor.
He bent over and picked up a metal baseball bat. Gripping it tightly between
both hands, he continued down the isle, listening for any movement in the
surrounding area.

Then he heard a loud bang towards the front of the store.
Standing in the middle of an isle, he had two options: go back to the stock
room, or hunt the person who was hunting them.

He chose the latter. He stepped down the isle in the direction
from which the sound came. He heard the occasional sound of glass crunching
under his boots as he went. Then he heard footsteps in the next isle. He stood
frozen for a few seconds, contemplating his next move. He listened to the footsteps
as they went towards the stock room. He rushed to the end of the isle and
turned left, taking three steps until he was at the edge of the next isle.
Peering out, he saw an Imperial soldier holding a rifle walking away from where
he stood.