Stryker: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale (20 page)

“Can we get a
credit?”

“Sure.”

“Let’s get the
coolers off the trailer,” Stryker said. The three men had the coolers on the
porch of the house in no time. The woman had disappeared around the back of the
house.

“Should we head to
the swap meet? Sarge asked.

“That’s not until
tomorrow,” Hank answered.

“I thought you said
every Wednesday.”

“I did. But today’s
Tuesday.”

“It is?”

“Last time I
checked.” Sarge blinked a few times.

“What do you want
to do, Stryker?”

“Beat’s me.” The
women came back into the front yard.

“Where were you
guys?” Sarge asked.

“Looking at Jenna’s
garden,” Erin replied. Noting Sarge’s look of confusion, she asked, “What’s
going on with you?”

“I got my days
confused. The swap meet is tomorrow.”

“I guess you can
stay here,” Jenna said. “We have two spare bedrooms.”

“Or we could go to
Corpus Christi and come back tomorrow,” Elle said, hoisting one eyebrow.

“Can I go too?”
Jenna asked. “The only place I’ve been since I got here was the swap meet.”
Stryker glanced at Haley and Erin. They both looked at him expectantly.

“It’s less than two
hours away. We don’t have anything else to do, so I guess we can go. Sarge, we
can’t all fit. What do you want to do?”

“I can stay here
and help Hank,” Sarge said. “You got any more bourbon?”

“Sure.”

“Can you teach me
how to slaughter cattle?”

“Absolutely. But
you can’t do both at the same time.” Both men chuckled.

“Will she be safe
with you?” Hank asked Stryker.

“I believe so. We
brought her home once.”

“Okay, but be
careful.”

“Erin, you got
front passenger and Haley has rear driver.”

“We’re going to use
the bathroom before we leave,” Jenna said. The women all disappeared into the
house.

“Does Jenna have a
weapon?” Stryker asked.

“She has a Glock 9.
She’s pretty good with it.” Hank sounded proud.

Stryker unhooked
the trailer from the Jeep and everyone climbed in. He nodded approvingly when
he saw that Jenna was armed. “We’ll be back tomorrow morning, latest,” Stryker
said before driving down the driveway and onto a road leading to the freeway
entrance.

They got on
Interstate 37 and headed southeast. The ladies in the back chatted the whole
time, catching up on what they had been doing since they last saw one another.
Stryker and Erin fell into a comfortable silence, and Stryker’s eyes remained
vigilant. He glanced over at her and saw she was doing the same.

It was around
midmorning and the sun was starting to heat up the Jeep’s interior. He turned
on the air conditioning and directed the center vents toward the back seat. The
miles rolled by and they passed by several small towns, each dotted with
billboards. From what he could see, they all looked pretty much the same:
weather-beaten, dusty little municipalities. Empty fields filled in the
landscape between the towns, and the earth looked as though it was baked into a
solid mass of concrete.

They passed the
welcome sign to Corpus Christi and crested a gentle hill. For the first time,
they saw the ocean, vast and blue, sweeping across the horizon in a long, even
line. Stryker pulled off the freeway at the downtown exit and drove the surface
roads until he reached the county courthouse. After parking in front of the
building, he got out and the women followed him up the steps. It was a
modern-looking, limestone building, nine stories tall with a multi-story
parking ramp on one side. The door was a massive steel slab that opened easily.
They passed through the lobby and Elle went to the building directory while
Erin and Stryker stood watch.

“Room 407,” she
said. Stryker led the group up the stairway to the fourth floor and peeked out
the door to the hallway, glancing in both directions. He saw nothing unusual.
He hand-signaled them to remain in the stairwell and slipped down the hallway
to the records room. He entered guns up and quickly swept the room. He went
back to the stairwell and motioned the others to follow.

“Elle, get set up
like we did last time and have Jenna watch the door while you guys work. We’re
going to clear the rest of the floor.” He nodded at Erin, and they left the
room, working the right side of the hallway and clearing each office. As they
reached the end of the hallway, a single room faced south. Stryker entered it
first, with Erin close behind.

The room was dark
since the blinds were closed. Stryker went across the room and opened the
blinds, then turned automatically to search the room. He paused for a second,
then turned back to the window and gazed through it.

He stared in
disbelief. Erin saw the expression on his face and moved to join him. She
looked out and saw four ships, painted red, moving up the channel toward the
pier. A fifth ship sat at the pier below them, and people moved around the pier
carrying bundles. They were all dressed in black.

Stryker opened the
window and looked through the scope of his rifle. A Russian Humvee equivalent,
the Tiger, armed with a heavy caliber machine gun, drove down a ramp from the
ship’s hold. It was followed by a URAL 5323, a heavy cargo Russian military
truck that was converted to a personnel carrier.

He looked at Erin,
then raised his carbine again and stared through the scope. A black flag with
an irregular white circle in it with black Arabic script hung from a whip
antenna mounted at the back of the vehicle. As the vessel continued to disgorge
passengers and vehicles, he focused on the flag and recognized the script. It
was written in three short horizontal lines:

“Allah.”

“Messenger.”

“Muhammad.”

He looked again to
confirm the first read. “ISIS is invading us,” he said, staring at Erin with a
dazed look.

“What?”

“Those are ISIS
fighters down there.”

“How can you tell?
How can that even be possible?”

“The flag on the
Humvee variant is the ISIS flag.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He paused to
think, but his mind was reeling from the possibilities. Stryker looked again
through the scope and saw more Tigers coming down the ramp. He glanced again at
Erin. She saw an expression on his face she had never seen before: he was
scared, and that scared her more than she was already.

“What are we going
to do?” Erin asked.

“I don’t know. Give
me a second.” She watched him as he closed his eyes and said nothing for close
to a minute. When he opened his eyes, she saw a grim look that replaced the
look of fear.

“I guess we know
now where the plague came from. There’s no way that many of them could survive
unless they were vaccinated or knew what was coming and hunkered down in some
remote region.”

“What do you think
they want?” Erin asked.

“Our country. Who
wouldn’t want it?” He paused, again looked at the scene below them, then said,
“They must want to move west from here. It’s going to take two days to unload
here and they could have done it in a day in Houston. So they must be trading
time for distance to their destination.”

“Where do you think
they’re going?”

“No idea, but west
of here.”

“Just let them go.
We can move east and not have to worry about it.”

“They’re invading
our country. I can’t just ignore that. If those other ships contain the same
number of people and vehicles, we have no chance at all. We have to stop them
here before they all get off the ships and try to move.” He thought for a bit
longer, and added, “Let’s get the other women and send you guys back to Sarge.
I’m staying here while you bring back the goodies we need to sink those ships
in the channel before they can land.”

“That’s crazy!
Let’s just run the other way.”

“We need to get you
guys out of here with a list of what I need. Let’s go.” Stryker didn’t wait for
a reply, but walked down the stairs and into the room where the rest of the
women were searching the recorder’s office. He said, “Who has a paper and pen?”

“I do,” Elle
replied.

“Write this down.”

“Okay, go.”

“I need Sarge to go
to Boeme, Texas, about twenty-five miles northwest of San Antonio. Tell him to
get into Camp Stanley Ordinance Depot and get me as much C-4 and detonators as
he can. I need the timers to be waterproof, and we also need as many M224
mortars and shells as he can lay his hands on. I need scuba equipment if he can
find it, or at least a mask and a snorkel if he can’t. Tell him we’re going to
try to sink those ships in the harbor so grab anything else he thinks might be
useful.”

“What the hell is
going on?” Elle asked.

“Explain it to them
on the way out of town,” Stryker told Erin. “We don’t have time for this. We
need to move before they start leaving the pier.” He turned and ran to the
stairwell, waited for them to catch up, and they pounded down the stairway,
through the lobby, and stopped running at the Jeep. Stryker handed the keys to
Erin.

“Tell Sarge to come
alone and meet me at the underpass to the downtown exit around sundown
tomorrow. Tell him to come alone. Now go.” He turned before she could reply,
ran to the corner of the courthouse, and got into position to cover their
retreat. He saw the Jeep pull away and disappear into the distance, went back
into the building, and resumed watching the ship disgorge its passengers and
vehicles.

“Well, I guess this
is where love goes to die,” he muttered.

The End