Wasteland Rules: Born to Fight (The World After Book 2) (8 page)

   Derek did as he was told. “Anything?” He asked.

   “You have something in your right shoulder and
between your toes.” The Voice told him.

   “Clever.” Derek said. “They used more than one.
They must have assumed I would find one and assume that was it.”

   “How else can I be of service?” The Voice asked
with a slight hint of sarcasm.

   “What frequency can I reach the Cartel bosses
on?”

June 19, 2029

Flamingo Marina, Everglades National Park

    As the sun rose over the water a very large
luxury speedboat pulled into the marina with a throaty roar. The heavily armed
gunmen on deck kept their M4 carbines aimed at Derek as they coasted to a stop.
Unlike the other boats, this one had light armor on the bow and a heavy machine
gun nest welded on top. The Cartel had converted it into a floating technical.
The gunmen were all dressed in camouflage BDUs with body armor and black
sunglasses.

   While he had waited, Derek had dug out both of
the trackers. They had been simple to find once he knew where he was looking.
Both were very small, but powerful tracking devices. Still, they had a limited
range; so the NASA boys wouldn’t know he had removed them until later. While he
had expected something like that, Derek didn’t like the invasion of his body
and privacy. He would take that up with them later.

   The gunmen from the boat swarmed onto the dock
and took up positions guarding the boat and covering Derek. Their technical
precision and professionalism indicated they were ex-military and probably
members of the Alphas, the Cartel’s elite combat unit. This was quite a bit
more than he had been expecting when the Cartel radio operator had agreed to
send someone to negotiate. A large well-dressed, middle-aged Hispanic man in
white linen pants, a colorful cotton shirt, and covered in gold jewelry exited
the boat and addressed him.

   “If you wanted to talk Derek, all you had to do
was call me.” The man declared in a rich, deep voice with only a slight accent.

   Derek was stunned. “Mario?”

   “That’s right mi hermano. In the flesh. Although
a little more of it I am afraid.” The man responded with a chuckle. “You don’t
seem to have aged one bit. A bit more grizzled and scarred, but you are in
remarkably good shape. Especially for a dead man.”

   “What are you doing here?” Derek asked, confused.
Mario Sandoval had been one of his officers in the special forces unit prior to
the Collapse. He had not been on the mission that had killed most of Derek’s
team and put him in the hospital, but they had been in many firefights
together. The large Cuban-American had been a good soldier and a good man. They
had lost touch during the Collapse.

   “I am the head of security for Don Quinones, the
Cartel chief for Miami. When the world fell apart I returned home to take care
of my family. The Cartel was the only group with food and medical supplies so I
offered my services in exchange for help. My skills proved very marketable and
I was able to rise up the ranks. Now I live a more comfortable life and I don’t
have to get my hands dirty. But when I heard your voice I decided to come take
care of this myself.” Mario explained.

  “I suppose I can’t fault you for switching sides.”
Derek reluctantly agreed.

  “Switching sides? Where was the government when we
needed them? They left my side…But we are not here to debate politics. You
destroyed one of my processing facilities and you are threatening to destroy
more if we don’t return the scientists. Yes?” Mario asked.

  “That’s right. Give me back the scientists and we
will leave your territory and never bother you again.”

   “You’re working for NASA now?”

   “Just on a temporary basis as a favor to a
friend.”

   Mario laughed. “While I know you are a very
capable soldier, you cannot kill all of my men in a straight up fight. Why
shouldn’t I just kill you now?”

   “Because I have a team out there covering you
right now. If you start shooting they will wipe you out.”

   “And if I don’t believe you?” Mario asked almost
jovially.

   “Look at your chest.” Derek pointed out.

    Mario looked down and saw the laser dot on his
chest. He smiled broadly without any sign of nervousness. “Okay, how about a
counter offer?”

   “I’m listening.”

   “Since we are old friends, and you may have saved
my life a time or two, I will make you a deal. If you do me a favor, I will
return the scientists to you and let you go.” Mario offered.

   “What’s the favor?” Derek asked cautiously.

   “I need you to blow up a processing facility.”
Mario stated simply.

   “I just did that. You want me to destroy another
one?”

   “Not one of ours. One of the Order’s.” Mario
explained. “They are the largest crystal meth producers in the Americas besides
us. Lately they have increased the volume of product and lowered their prices.
They are starting to cut into our business and we want that stopped. But, we
cannot go into their territory since we would have to cross U.S.T.G. waters to
do it. I think it a fair compensation for the destruction you just caused.”

   “What’s the catch?” Derek asked suspiciously.
“Why don’t you hire some merks or infiltrate some of your guys by land?”

   “The Order has been growing much larger and more
powerful. They have been recruiting whites from all over old U.S. to join them.
No merks want to cross them and my guys would stand out for obvious reasons.
You can get in posing as a possible recruit and then sabotage their plant. This
is right in your wheelhouse, as evidenced by this.” Mario pointed out as he
gestured to the smoking ruins of the former visitor center.

  “How do I know if I do this, you will honor your
end of the bargain?” Derek inquired.

  “I’m a little insulted given our history, but I do
work for the Cartel. So I’m willing to swear a blood oath with you.” Mario
promised, drawing a sharp knife from his belt sheath.

   Derek had no choice but to agree. He cut his own
hand and shook hands with Mario. It might be a deal with the devil, but he knew
that Mario took the oath pretty seriously. He and Rora would go take out this
other drug processing facility and hopefully Mario would hand over the
scientists. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t enjoy sticking it to those Neo-Nazi
bastards.

  “How do we get there?” Derek inquired.

   Mario handed him a piece of paper. “The
coordinates are there. You and the girl can take one of these boats.”

   “How did you know about the girl?”

   “Do you think I trust these pendejos enough not
to monitor them?” Mario asked rhetorically as he gestured to what appeared to
be a hidden camera.

   Derek laughed. “I should have known. So you knew
all the time it was just me and the girl?”

   “Of course. I wouldn’t have risked being ambushed
by a squad of merks.” He said arrogantly.

   “Aren’t you worried she is an excellent shot?”

   “What, that little girl?” Mario said
dismissively.

   “You’d be surprised at what she is capable of.
Besides she has had an excellent teacher.” Derek told him jokingly.

   Mario laughed again. “You got me there mi
hermano. But your sense of honor wouldn’t allow you to just kill me in cold
blood, and then you wouldn’t get the scientists back. I thought I would take
the chance. Besides, it feels good to get back out into the mix again.”

   “I know what you mean.” Derek agreed with a grin.
“How do I contact you when it is done?”

   “I will know. Once it is done I will bring the
scientists here and you can take them. Vaya con dios, mi hermano.”

   With that Mario turned and climbed back onto the
boat. His guards followed but maintained a careful watch on Derek the entire
time. Mario waved flippantly as the boat pulled away from the dock and then
roared back out into the bay. Rora joined Derek on the dock once the Cartel
boat had vanished from sight.

   “So how did it go?” She asked. “You’re not dead,
so that’s something.”

   Derek sighed. “True, but we have to go do a favor
for the Cartel to get the scientists back.”

   “What favor?” She asked sourly.

   “We need to go pay a visit to our shaven-headed
friends, the Order, and destroy one of
their
drug processing plants.
Then we can have the scientists.”

   “Those were the guys that tried to attack me at
the bar?”

   “Yes.”

   “I’m not too broken up about hurting them.”

   “Well…it’s not that simple. We have to pose as
recruits to get in.”

   Rora’s look of disgust only mirrored his feelings
on the subject. Pretending to be a racist thug wasn’t exactly on his list of
things to do. But they needed to get those scientists back so NASA would accept
Rora. So they would just have to suck it up and play along. At least at the end
they got to blow something up.

June 18, 2029

Louisiana Coast, Gulf of Mexico

    Derek and Rora took the boat across to the
bayous of Louisiana at night to avoid the U.S.T.G. patrols from Pensacola. The
Voice alerted them several times to boats nearby. Each time they cut the motor
and drifted in silence until the other boat moved away. It took longer that
way, but it enabled them to get to Louisiana near the flooded out remains of
New Orleans without anyone detecting them. Derek navigated up the bayous and
further inland rather than try to land in New Orleans.

    New Orleans had survived the Collapse, but the
terrible weather during the Aftermath had overwhelmed the levees and flooded
the city. A full blown category 5 hurricane, Hurricane Linda, had roared almost
straight inland at New Orleans. A thirty five foot storm surge powered by winds
gusting up to two hundred miles per hour had roared inland. The flood system
and levees had failed spectacularly and the city had suffered record flooding
and vast portions of it were leveled. Without the funds or the support to clean
up the city and fix the levees like after Katrina, the city had remained
partially submerged. Disease and Drinkers had finished off all but the most
hardy and stubborn survivors. It was essentially now a ghost town.

   The Cajuns in the bayous had fared better since
they were more resilient than the city dwellers. Many of them still roamed the
swampy waters hunting gators and sometimes human prey to survive. The Order had
made arrangements with many of them and they acted as the eyes and ears on the
southeastern flank of the Order’s territory. Derek motored along slowly to be
as quiet as possible so they could get inland to infiltrate the Order. Several
times they passed well lit shanty towns on the river banks with people drinking
and carrying on.

  They had a close call when a drunken man spotted
them as he took a leak into the river. But he merely waved at them and they
waved back. Through luck and help from the Voice they managed to get to a small
abandoned landing near Gardere, LA. From there they could hike to Baton Rouge,
which was a major Order recruiting site and the location of the drug lab. They
concealed the boat and stored most of their gear in it. Derek had them leave
all of their weapons and extra equipment. They took only the bare minimum to
survive on and carried the rifles and pistols they had taken from the Cartel
guards.

   “Why aren’t we taking all of our gear?” Rora had
inquired.

   “We want the Order to think we are desperate
recruits, not well equipped and well-armed merks. They prey on the desperate
and ignorant, so we need to fit that mold to get in.” He explained.

   “What if someone takes it?”

   “We’ll have bigger problems than that because we
need the boat to get back.”

   “We could just walk away from this and go off on
our own together.” Rora suggested.

   “Rora, you need to have the safety NASA provides.
No matter how much you have learned, it is brutal out here. Even I’m going to
eventually run out of luck and get killed. Why struggle every day to survive if
you don’t have to?” Derek explained gently.

   He took her silence as agreement and finished
covering the boat. Someone would have to be right on top of it to see it, and
the area looked undisturbed. So it was unlikely anyone would just happen by. As
dawn broke they headed north towards Baton Rouge. They walked along abandoned
and deteriorating roads for most of the day until they reached the outskirts.
They had seen very little life along the way and almost no signs of human
habitation. Howls had indicated wild dogs in the area, but they hadn’t seen
any.

   Baton Rouge was virtually deserted but they could
see the signs of the Order’s presence. Large red banners with a white circle
and the Order’s circle cross symbol hung from the sides of buildings. There
were also large posters of the leader of the Order, Fuhrer Joseph Wessel. Derek
had heard the man was a used car salesman before the Collapse. He didn’t have
any trouble believing that looking at the man’s pictures. Wessel had greasy
black hair combed back on his head, an oily smile, and a ridiculous little
mustache that he probably thought made him look like Hitler.

  Despite looking deserted, the streets had been
cleared of cars and were surprisingly free of trash or debris. All the intact
buildings were boarded up securely and there was no graffiti. There was
evidence of vehicles regularly passing along the streets, probably some sort of
patrol. One of those patrols found them as they got closer to town. A large,
heavily armored SUV converted to a technical with a heavy machine gun on top
rolled slowly to a stop in front of them as they walked down the street. It was
painted black with the red banner logo on the doors and hood. A man with a
shaved head and wearing a gray uniform manned the gun. He kept it trained on
them as he spoke.

   “Welcome to the New American Reich. What can we
do for y’all today?” The man drawled in a deep southern accent.

   “We heard y’all had a good thing going here for
whites only and we wanted to join up.” Derek called, mimicking the southern
drawl.

  “You look like good whites, but we don’t take just
anyone. There is a recruiting rally tonight at City Park. Keep heading north to
the university and then follow the signs to I-10. If the recruiters likes
y’all, we might let y’all in. We find y’all again anywhere other than the park
we will shoot you and take the girl.” The man said as he leered at Rora.

  “Thanks, we will go there right now.” Derek
replied obsequiously and dragged a grossed out Rora down the street.

  “Nasty.” She muttered under her breath.

   Derek agreed, but they needed to play the part of
desperate survivors until they were in. The Order was obviously much more
organized than he had realized and it seemed like they had plans for their
territory. They were building a viable state not just acting as simple
warlords. That did set them apart from the other violent thugs out there, but
it also begged the question of who was really behind it all. He had a hard time
believing that the U.S.T.G. would accept another contender to the throne since
they ultimately claimed the entire continent as rightful territory. Why hadn’t
the U.S.T.G. or Texas wiped these guys out?

    He pondered this as they walked to the
recruiting rally at the park in town. They followed the directions and got to
the edge of the park at dusk. They had encountered other people as they got
closer. Some had been survivors like they were supposed to be, but a number had
been Cajun teenagers. Everyone seemed excited to be going as there was rumored
to be food and beer being provided for free.

   Order troops at the entrance to the park forced
everyone to surrender their weapons and then searched them. It looked like they
were also checking to make sure everyone was white. He saw a couple of people
with darker complexions pulled off to the side and then dragged away. He
couldn’t do anything and no one else seemed to notice, so he had to let it go.
Everyone who passed inspection was given a white wristband and allowed into the
park.

   The crowd swelled as they entered the park.
Torches placed along the edge of the park provided some light. But the massive
bonfire that was piled at least ten feet high and had flames shooting thirty
plus feet into the air provided the most light. It had a stage with burning
crosses on either side placed in front of it. A tattooed skinhead hate metal group
played furiously on the stage, sweating in the heat. The music roared out of
speakers with a deep throbbing beat. People danced to the heavy beat, stomping
about wildly like the Bushwhackers in the old WWF. A mosh pit directly in front
of the stage contained the more violent and aggressive guests.

    To one side were tables with Order recruiters
passing out food and drinks. Derek could see them handing out pamphlets as
well, so he grabbed one. They extolled the virtues of the pure state of the New
American Reich. It talked about the abundant food, safe water, free healthcare,
and the security it offered. Blah, blah, blah. The U.S.T.G. had promised the
same things. That’s why Derek had joined them. But it had all been a lie. Yes,
you got some of those things but you had to give up your freedom and possibly
sell your soul.

  He could see that many of the people were buying
in to it from the fervent looks on their faces. If they signed up they were
being given red armbands with the logo on it. He noticed buses sitting in the
parking lot. After the rally, those volunteers would be taken to some sort of
indoctrination camp and turned into loyal members of the Reich. That path
wouldn’t get them near the drug lab. They needed another way in.

   Looking around the park, Derek noticed that there
were Black Jackets posted around the perimeter to provide security. One of them
in particular caught his eye. He was the largest man at the gathering. The man
looked to be about six foot three inches tall and was heavily muscled. He
didn’t have a neck due to his heavily muscled shoulders and he had the look of
a compulsive weightlifter and juicer compensating for other shortcomings. The man
had removed his jacket and wore only a white wife-beater that revealed arms
completely covered in white power and Nazi tattoos. The firelight shone on his
shaved head and revealed a face that was handsome and unmarked and he had an
arrogant smile; one that said he thought himself superior to everyone else
here. He was the alpha male and he knew it. A classic bully if ever Derek had
seen one.

   “Time to get noticed.” Derek informed Rora and
headed towards the man.

   “What are you doing?” She hissed.

   “We have to show we have something to offer that
the others here don’t. I’m going show them something they can’t ignore.” He
said with a smile.

   Derek approached the big bully slowly and
deliberately. He stopped directly in front of the man and looked him in the
eyes. The man gave him a nasty smile and leaned in slightly.

  “Keep moving. You don’t want me to get angry.” The
man informed Derek.

   “What is that smell?” Derek asked no one in
particular. “It smells like a goat mated with a dog.”

   The man lost his smile and Rora backed up a few
steps as he moved closer to Derek. He poked Derek in the chest with a meaty
finger.

   “You better move on or I’m going to rip your head
off.” The bully coldly warned him.

   “You can try meathead.” Derek taunted him.

   The man’s expression darkened and he bunched his
muscles in anticipation of a fight. “Last chance, dumbass. I’m not going to
warn you again. Get out of here.”

   Derek smiled and didn’t back off. The man might
be very large and well-muscled but based on the lack of damage to his face or
ears he hadn’t been in a real fight. His size had probably intimidated everyone
else so he hadn’t needed to fight. The fact that Derek wasn’t backing off and
wasn’t scared had him worried. That was why he was warning Derek instead of
just kicking his butt. Time to move this along.

   He shoved the big man backwards startling him.
Instinctively the man shoved him back. Derek saw the crowd begin to gather in
his peripheral vision and heard the “fight” chant begin. Humans might have
become very technologically advanced but they were still primitive at heart. Any
chance for bloodshed attracted a crowd. Derek grinned and shrugged off his
jacket. He raised his hands and prepared for a fight.

   The crowd encircled the two combatants and began
to grow in size and intensity. Remarkably the band hadn’t stopped playing. If
anything they were playing loader and more insistently. The chants rang out in
time with the growing beat.

  “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! FIGHT!” The crowd
screamed.

  Trapped by the crowd and needing to save face, the
Order thug bull rushed Derek. He sidestepped and used a rolling hip toss to
throw the man to the ground. The man struck the ground hard but rolled to his
feet. Now he was angry and his fear fled. Derek nodded and smiled. This was
going to be a good fight. He quickly closed the distance and launched a barrage
of punches at the slightly stunned man. The blows rocked the brute but he
didn’t go down. He fired back with wild abandon and they stood toe to toe in
the center of the screaming crowd furiously exchanging blows.

   They fed off the increasing frenzy of the crowd,
raining blows onto each other to the beat of the heavy metal music. Neither man
gave an inch as they battled it out. Derek lost track of how many punches he
had thrown and how many he was receiving and lost himself in the glory of the
moment. He only came back to reality when he realized that he wasn’t being hit
anymore and the crowd was going crazy. He looked down to see the Order goon
lying unconscious in a pool of his own blood. The man’s face was a bloody mess
with his eyes swelling shut and his nose broken.

   Derek could feel blood trickling down his face
from a cut above his eye. His face felt slightly swollen and he assumed he
would have at least one black eye tomorrow. The fight had been short but
brutal. He had not used any of his martial arts skills because he had wanted to
showcase his toughness not outclass the thug. The crowd was jumping up and down
with excitement and many were daring to push in and slap him on the back or
shake his hand. Then suddenly floodlights kicked on illuminating the park in
their harsh light.