Wasteland Rules: Kill or Be Killed (The World After Book 1) (10 page)

June 12, 2029

Cherries Saloon in Nevada, MO

  Finally alone for a few minutes without someone
chasing her, Rora reflected on the last week. The whirlwind had started with
the Slavers grabbing her and her father. Then Derek had suddenly appeared as
their savior, but he had really only been interested in acquiring the Device
her father had made. Watching her father sacrifice himself by blowing himself
up to create a distraction that allowed them to escape had been unbelievable,
and she still couldn’t accept he was gone.

  Rora started crying softly as she remembered all
of the good times growing up in their small village. It had been simple but enjoyable.
All of this commotion and the violence were overwhelming. The trip with Derek,
hopping vehicles, and battling with all their pursuers had been a blur. All of
the crazy people trying to kill them and even some wanting to eat them. It was all
so surreal.

  She still wasn’t sure she could trust Derek. He
had his own agenda and he had definitely lied to her about what her father had
said to him. As she watched him go up the stairs she wondered if she was
misjudging him based on his rough appearance. His “Born to Fight” t-shirt
didn’t exactly give him a warm and fuzzy vibe, nor did the way he easily killed
people. But he had rescued her from the Slavers and kept her safe since then
when he could have easily left her behind to save himself.

  Rora cut short her musings as she realized she was
all alone in a room primarily full of drunken men, all strangers to her. It was
more people then she had ever seen in one place. They did seem distracted by
the half-naked women gyrating on stage leaving her all alone in the back of the
room. She wondered to herself why those women would degrade themselves like
that. Didn’t they have any modesty or shame?

  She suspected she knew why Derek had gone
upstairs. He was getting more than a shower and shave. She had heard the men in
the village mention how women would sell themselves for money. She had asked
another woman about it, but the woman had told her it wasn’t any of her
business. That good girls didn’t do that, only bad girls did.

  Lost in her own thoughts, Rora didn’t notice the
men approach until their shadows blocked out the lights from the stage. She
looked up to see three men spread out in front of her leering at her. All three
were dressed similarly in dark gray collared work shirts, dark grey work pants tucked
into black combat boots, and black jackets with orange lining. All three had
their heads shaved and had short trimmed beards. In contrast to many of the
other men in the saloon they were clean and their clothes were clean. The
leader was a slim man; but the man on the right was huge, only a little over
six feet tall but almost bursting out of his jacket he was so well muscled. The
third man was of average size and build.

  “Hello darling. How much?” The leader asked
sleazily.

  Rora was confused. “How much for what?” She asked.

  “For you baby. How much for you?” Came the reply.

  She was disgusted and made a face showing it. “I’m
not for sale you pig.” She responded with venom in her voice.

  The leader’s face darkened and the other two look
at him knowingly and smiled. Rora felt a slight shiver of fear run down her
spine. It might have been a bad idea to antagonize the man without Derek around
to protect her. Maybe the man had made an honest mistake given where they were.

  The man leaned in towards here and spat. “Well, if
you aren’t charging it must be free…”

  He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off her
chair. The other two closed in around her with broad grins on their faces. They
knew the fun was about to start. They were going to have their way like they
always did. No one ever wanted to mess with them. They didn’t notice the man
approaching them from behind.

June 11, 2029

Cherries Saloon in Nevada, MO

   Derek left the room with a huge smile on his
face. The naked woman sprawled on the bed had been up for what she had called a
vigorous workout. She was practically unconscious when he had finished. It had
been a while and he had some pent up energy. The shower and shave had helped
also. He felt like a new man, re-energized and ready to deal with the
Regulators.

  His good mood lasted all the way to the top of the
stairs. It lasted until he spotted three goons standing around Rora with the
one in the middle grabbing her by the arm. The terrified look on her face said
it all. Derek hated bullies, he always had. He had been suspended in high
school for beating the quarterback of the football team half to death after he
had tried to t-bag Derek after he and another player had knocked Derek down
from behind. And he was almost kicked out of college for choking out another
jock that was in the process of sexually assaulting a drunken girl.

  He recognized the three men for what they were
from their attire. They were members of the Order, a neo-Nazi group that had
risen to prominence in Mississippi following the Collapse. Very organized
around a paramilitary structure, they had appeared from almost nowhere to take
over. Units had appeared towards the end of the Collapse and during the
Aftermath. Obviously they had been underground preparing for such an
opportunity. An opportunity which they had taken great advantage of. They had
provided food, shelter, and stability in a chaotic world and won many converts
quickly.

   In the early 2000’s the white power movements had
been fading. Lawsuits had taken the property of some of the largest
organizations and the others were under siege from the government. Rallies and
demonstrations had failed to generate more interest. A black president had been
elected and the pressure had only intensified. So the racist groups had gone
underground and organized in the shadows, using the internet to spread their
message. With the failing economy they had found more converts. The Collapse had
only created more possible converts who were looking for someone to blame.

  The poor especially had fallen for their rhetoric
blaming the Collapse on Jews and blacks. The Order’s Black Jackets, of which
these three were members, had launched a violent purge of all non-whites in
their territory. Most were driven out, but there had been some lynchings. Their
utopian society was very fascist and highly controlled, but few if any ever
left. People were often willing to overlook evil and cruelty if they themselves
were taken care of.

  The Order was also the largest distributor of
crystal meth in the South. It provided the cash they needed to buy supplies and
weapons to maintain their empire. Their emissaries and merchants were generally
well behaved, but also had a reputation for violence when provoked. Most people
were afraid to mess with them because of that, so they generally got their way
without actually resorting to violence.

  Derek approached quietly from behind. They were
too focused on Rora and what they were going to do to her to notice his
approach. When he was right behind the man holding Rora he grabbed him by the
shoulder and swung him around. The thug was so startled he let go of her. The
other two swung around as well and they moved towards Derek menacingly. He
smiled at them. The lead goon’s eyes narrowed and his face grew red.

  “Shove off, we saw her first!” The leader snarled
at him.

  “She’s with me so I think it’s best if you move
along.” Derek informed them calmly.

  That only made the leader’s face get redder as he
got angrier and angrier. He only paused for a moment to consider the fact that
Derek was not at all concerned about being outnumbered or afraid of them. Or
that Derek was wearing a shirt that indicated he liked to fight. The thug only
paused briefly to make sure the other two were with him before he struck. He
launched a wicked right hand at Derek’s face. The other two smirked a little as
they knew what was coming next. Nobody lasted long against them, especially
when caught off guard by the first punch.

   Except the first punch never landed. Derek
quickly ducked under the punch and stepped to the left. The punch soared over
his head striking only air where he had been standing a second ago. Then he
grabbed the man and kneed him in the gut from the side, really stepping into
the strike. As the Order thug bent over from the force of the blow, Derek
spiked his elbow down onto the back of the man’s neck. There was a loud crack
and the thug dropped to the floor unconscious.

  The other two men stood there frozen in amazement,
their jaws hanging open. It had happened so fast, they weren’t even sure what
had occurred. Their leader had been taken out so quickly and efficiently it was
like Derek had barely moved. He took advantage of their pause and moved towards
the big one. You always take out the biggest threat first and he was BIG. He
had the thickly veined muscles of a steroid abuser and the crazed look in his
eyes to go with it. Derek didn’t believe in honor in relation to fights. Every
fight in the wasteland was life or death to him. Even a simple broken bone
could spell death later.

  As he approached the big man, the thug reached out
for him. Derek let him grab him by the shoulders and then kicked the goon
straight in the groin as hard as he could. The high pitched squeal the man made
as he collapsed didn’t sound right coming from a man so big. Knowing the other
man was coming at him from behind, Derek swirled around to his right and caught
the man’s wrist as he stabbed at Derek with a ceramic knife. Derek continued
his motion ending up slightly behind the man. He used the thug’s momentum to
swing him around, push him forward, and then slam the man’s face into a table.
The goon collapsed unconscious on the floor his broken nose bleeding heavily.

  Derek turned to Rora and was about to congratulate
himself on a quick victory when he saw her eyes widen. Before he could react to
what must have been someone else coming up behind him, he heard the crash of a
glass bottle shattering. Spinning around, he saw another Order thug lying on
the ground bleeding from the head and a heavy set, middle aged man in a black
cowboy hat standing over him holding the end of a broken whiskey bottle. The
man stood a little over six feet tall and sported long dirty blond hair under
the hat. He wore blue jeans tucked into combat boots and a black duster over a
white denim shirt. Unlike everyone else, his holster was not empty. A large
revolver rested in a well-worn leather holster hanging low on his hip.

   Relaxing his combat stance, Derek went over and
gave the man a big hug. His hug was met with vigorous back slapping and
chuckling. He glanced back to see the confusion and relief on Rora’s face. He
laughed and turned back towards her.

  “Meet Vladimir Artexos or Tex for short. He and I
go way back, we used to hunt bounties together. Although it looks like he has a
better job now?” Derek asked as he noticed the silver star on Tex’s coat.

 Tex smiled. “I parlayed the reputation we built
hunting into a permanent gig with one of the Regulator’s Mobile Squads hunting
fugitives. After a few years I transferred here to take a break.” He replied
with a slight Russian accent.

  “Looks like a desk job.” Derek said patting Tex’s
obviously expanding waistline.

  “Screw you Storm. Not everyone manages to keep in
top shape with no effort like you do, especially at our age. And last time I
checked there weren’t any fitness clubs anymore.”

  Derek laughed at the picture of a wasteland gym
with car axles and cinder blocks for weights and a fenced in track with a wild
dog in it to motivate you to run instead of a treadmill. As well as the thought
of Tex working out. The man was fairly lazy. That he was working a desk job for
the Regulators didn’t surprise him.

  Derek’s good humor started to fade as he noticed
the large group bouncers heading their way with angry looks on their faces. He
did not want to have to fight his way out of town. As he moved back into a
combat stance, Tex stepped in front of them and flashed his badge. A brief
conversation that Derek didn’t hear occurred. The bouncers nodded and then
started dragging the inert bodies of the Order thugs out of the saloon.
Apparently the Regulators had a lot of juice in this town.

  Tex waved to them to follow. “Let’s get out of
here. I explained the situation, but they still don’t want you in here. You are
bad for business. Still a killing machine I see.”

  Derek gave him a dirty look and flicked his eyes
over towards Rora. Tex realized his mistake and tried to recover. “But a heart
of gold, always helping widows and orphans.”

  Derek groaned and glanced at Rora’s face. Her
expression was hard to read but she looked angry or possibly now afraid of
Derek.

  “What?” Tex asked innocently.

  “She’s an orphan you moron. She watched her Dad
get killed right in front of her. I’m doing him a favor and taking her to
NASA.”

  “Some favor, NASA is right in the heart of…” Tex’s
voice trailed off as he saw the look Derek was giving him. “Florida. In the
heart of Florida. Warm and sunny Florida.” He finished with a nervous laugh.

  “It’s ok Derek. I’m starting to realize that the
world is a horrible and dangerous place and having a trained killer around is
great protection.” Rora threw that at him as she pushed by him and headed
outside.

  He gave Tex another dirty look and followed her.
Tex threw him a look and shrugged as if to say “What did I do?”

  They retrieved their weapons and headed outside.
The bouncers watched them carefully and with what seemed to be a measure of
respect as they exited. After they got outside, Derek turned to the now lawman.
“Do me a favor. Keep an eye on her while I cash in these bounties. We need to
collect our supplies and head out shortly. But hang around, I have a business
proposition I want to run by you. Could be a lot of money in it…If you can
still drag your sorry ass out into the field that is?”

  Tex patted his rounding middle section and smiled.
“Don’t let this fool you Storm. I still throw down on a regular basis. I just
eat better now.”

  Derek laughed. “OK, ok. You still got it. I’ll be
back shortly. Do me a favor and help Rora pick up our order from the General
Store. Meet me at the parking lot in thirty minutes.”

  “You got it brother.” Tex responded
enthusiastically. The only thing he liked more than food, was money.