“Chill out, man,” Dan said. “I don’t think you’ll have any problem shooting something that’s trying to kill you.”
Drew shook his head. “It just makes me think of my nephew,” he said. “I know he got sick. He was already sick. He’s probably one of those kid things now.”
Dan sighed, thinking of how horrifying it would be to see one of them. Kids were scary enough without being mutated and murderous. He got up, reaching outside to grab a couple of beers. They were colder than they were before, which was good enough. He handed one to Drew, who took it gladly.
“Thanks,” he said. “Sorry.”
Dan made an indifferent fart noise, sitting back at the laptop.
“I wanna find out who this Strahd71 is,” he said. “It looks like he’s written a lot of these posts.”
The faint sound of gunfire echoed in the distance, and Dan and Drew froze, staring at each other. It sounded again in rapid succession, followed by a shot from a high powered rifle.
“That sounded like an automatic rifle,” Dan said. “Then a sniper rifle.”
Drew went closer to the deck doors, sticking his head out to listen. The gunfire sounded again. “Yep,” Drew said, “definitely a military rifle.”
Dan joined him at the door, trying to get a feel for what direction the firing was coming from. It sounded like somewhere beyond Gary and Linda’s; far enough to be barely audible, but close enough for concern. The closest thing in that direction was Shirley’s house. She lived alone, so having a bunch of people there with her was unlikely. But, if the mercs had encroached on her property, she would fire at them for sure.
And Shirley never missed.
“Let’s go,” Dan said. “Shirley might be in trouble. And if they take her down, we’re next.”
They were armed to the teeth. Both of them had an AR-15, a Glock, and a third weapon. Dan carried the Barrett, and Drew carried the shotgun he had liberated on the first night. They carried ammo in fanny packs, and had dressed in camouflaged hunting clothes—minus the idiotic orange vests.
They stuck to the lengthening shadows on the side of the gravel road, passing Gary and Linda’s house along the creek. They could probably stay down near the water the whole way; at least until they reached the bend. After that, their choice would be to cross the road again, or keep to the creek as it went around the back of Shirley’s house.
“Who is this lady?” Drew asked as they descended the bank down into the rushing water.
“She’s just a woman who’s lived here for forty or so years,” Dan replied. “Her husband died about ten years ago, and she refused to move.”
“How old is she?”
Dan shook his head, ducking under some branches. “I don’t know. Sixty something, maybe.”
Drew grinned, obviously picturing Granny Clampett hanging out the window with her shotgun, yelling “
Get off my land!”
“We need to be careful when we reach her place. She’s likely to shoot at us, too.”
Drew pursed his lips, looking down at the ground as they trudged through the mud. “Great…”
Ahead, the gunshots became louder, and Dan and Drew could hear men shouting. Among the gunshots were the obvious sounds of a high-powered rifle—likely wielded by Shirley herself. She was no stranger to hunting, and she would use her most powerful weapon to defend her home; whatever that was.
“Stick to the bank,” Dan whispered as they rounded the last bend.
Dan could see Shirley’s house from their position; the back end of it, anyway. There, the creek split off from the road and wound around the back side of the house, leaving about fifty yards from her back porch to the bank. The front of the house was obscured by the forest, still thick this time of year, but covered in the browns and orange leaves of autumn. They swallowed the house with their colors, making it difficult to tell where the tree line ended and the house began.
Now, the frantic yelling was plainly obvious, and the black shapes of merc vehicles showed through the trees. There were two jeeps, and one Humvee. Still no mercs in sight. Dan grinned to himself, realizing that they were probably hiding behind the trucks; hiding from the wrath of Shirley.
A loud gunshot rang out from the house, followed by a painful, groaning scream. Automatic weapons began blazing in short bursts, and the two men stopped to wait for it to die down.
“She must have gotten one of them,” Dan said.
“Damn,” Drew said. “That’s pretty far.” He peeked over the bank, looking from the front of the house to the line of trucks. “That’s at least a hundred yards.”
“That’s nothing,” Dan said. “Especially with a good hunting rifle. She might even have one of these.” He patted the Barrett strapped to his back.
“So, what’s the plan, Stan?”
Dan shook his head. “We could either take up position here,” he said, “or we keep moving around the back of the house. I wouldn’t recommend sneaking up on Shirley, though.”
Another powerful gunshot, and another scream.
“Jesus,” Drew said. “She’s like a sniper.”
“Told ya,” Dan said, creeping up to the bank.
He peeked over it, squinting at the line of trucks. He could see men huddled behind the Jeeps, waiting for the right moments to expose themselves and fire. They didn’t appear very confident. Still, the angle wasn’t quite right for Dan or Drew to make any good shots.
Until one of the mercs came around their side of the truck with what looked like a rocket launcher, or something similar.
“Is that a
LAW?”
Dan asked himself. Drew peeked over.
“Looks like it,” he said, “if I remember my video game weapons correctly.”
“Shit,” Dan said. “If he fires that, the house is coming down. Those are made for tanks and shit.”
“Take him out.”
Dan nodded, unstrapping the Barrett and chambering a round. “We’ll be giving away our position,” he said. “Get ready to unload once I fire.”
Drew propped his AR-15 up into firing position, clicking off the safety. After a few seconds and a few quick breaths, he said, “Okay, ready.”
Dan got the merc in his sights, zeroing in on the guy’s head. He could feel his heart pound as he watched the man slowly lean the weapon up over the hood of the Jeep, waiting for the others to give him cover fire. Dan adjusted his view, following his target, keeping that ugly, Gestapo face in his sights.
That’s right, Gestapo, not an American.
As soon as the other mercs raised up to release a hail of gunfire, Dan squeezed the trigger.
Shouts erupted from the mercs as they frantically fired. Dan looked through the scope, seeing that his target was lying on his back. The
LAW
was next to him.
He was headless.
“Nice shot,” Drew said. “Blew his fuckin’ head off.”
Dan said nothing, but swallowed hard. Though he had probably saved Shirley’s life, the thought of killing another man in cold blood—no matter what his allegiance—was unsettling.
“I don’t think they realize the shot came from over here,” Drew said. “They must think Shirley did it.”
A few mercs made a quick dash to the vehicle nearest to Dan and Drew’s position, bringing them into full view. Dan set the Barrett beside him, picking up the AR-15 and sighting it. No need to waste the .50 caliber when their targets were this close.
“Headshots,” Dan said. “These bullets probably won’t go through their armor.”
“Say the word.”
Another rifle shot went off, and a merc behind the far Jeep fell back. The others unloaded on the house.
“Now,” Dan said.
They fired, taking out the two nearest enemies. The third turned in their direction, and Drew took him out with a double tap to the throat.
There were ten left.
Another shot rang out.
Nine.
“I can’t see any more from here,” Drew said.
“Alright,” Dan said. “Let’s climb the bank and see if we can get a better angle.”
Drew nodded, laying his rifle on the bank, and reached up to pull himself over. The ground suddenly exploded near them after another rifle shot, and Drew slid back down. They looked in the direction of the house, seeing a dim, flashing light from behind one of the second floor windows.
A flashlight. Shirley was signaling.
“She sees us,” Dan said.
“Fuck,” Drew said. “She’s got eyes like an eagle.”
“Keep going,” Dan said.
Drew pulled himself up again, and Dan followed. They slowly crawled to their left, bringing the rest of the mercs into view. The nine of them were still huddled behind the Jeep and the transport; one of them digging through a satchel.
“I wonder if he’s calling for backup,” Drew said.
“They probably have some on the way, already,” Dan said. “In which case, we better get this over with.”
Another gunshot.
Eight.
“Alright,” Drew said. “Let’s do this.”
They crawled forward, keeping at an angle that afforded them cover behind the nearest Jeep. When they reached the front driver’s side tire, Dan flattened himself to crawl underneath it. He pulled himself along to the other side while Drew waited. He watched the feet of the soldiers underneath their hiding spot as they shuffled around to get a better vantage point. It was useless. They had nowhere to hide. They were locked down behind the Jeep and truck, doomed to stay there until Shirley ran out of ammo.
“
Shit!”
Drew hissed, suddenly rolling away.
A grenade bounced into Dan’s view about five yards away.
His heart skipped a beat as he saw it. He dropped his rifle, flattening himself to the ground and covering his ears just as it went off. The shockwave jolted him, and he felt the Jeep fly off of him.
The world swam. Lights flashed before his eyes, and the only thing he could hear was his heartbeat, and the faint sounds of gunfire. He looked up, seeing the mercs scrambling in slow motion. He picked up his rifle again, turning it toward them and pulling the trigger repeatedly; he was unable to aim.
One by one the mercs fell back; either by his or Drew’s gunfire, or rifle shots from the house. But he could no longer fight. His dizziness overtook him, and his vision faded into gray until he felt nothing. He could hear his own breath, and feel his heartbeat, but that was it. He was in limbo.
Am I dead? he thought. Is this what it’s like?
Then, oblivion.
“
Dan!”
a voice echoed in his head. “
Dan!”
Dan opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, and his mouth was bone dry. There was a smudge standing over him; blurry, and bald, with glasses. He could see that much.
“Dan,” the voice said gain; more calm this time. “Dude, are you okay?”
“Drew…” Dan mumbled, still somewhat incoherent.
“Wake up,” Drew said. Dan blinked until his vision returned, but he still couldn’t move. Though he could feel his arms and legs, they were somewhat numb, and tingling. That was a good sign.
“Dan,” Drew said again. Dan focused on his face.
“Dude,” he said. “What happened? Did you get ‘em?”
“They’re dead,” another voice said. “All of them.”
He turned, seeing an older woman kneeling a short distance away. She wore glasses and her grayish-blond hair was tied into a ponytail. Her clothes were plain; drab and functional. In her hand was a Remington hunting rifle with no scope.
“Shirley,” he mumbled.
“That’s Ms. White, young man,” she said.
He could hear Drew snicker, and he turned back to his friend, seeing him grinning. “A freakin’ grenade went off right by you, man,” he said.
“Yeah,” Dan said, rubbing his eyes. “I remember. That hurt a little.”
Shirley spoke again. “You’re lucky you were on the ground,” she said. “Or you would look like that Jeep over there.”
Dan sat up, turning to look where she was pointing. The Jeep was flipped over, leaking transmission fluid… or whatever the red stuff was. It was in ruin; burnt, dented, and missing a lot of pieces.
“I’m just glad I plugged my ears when I did,” Dan said.
“You boys come inside,” Shirley said. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days, and I want to take a look at that Barrett.”
“I’ve seen you around,” Shirley said as she handed Dan a cup of hot, steaming liquid, “all drunk and disorderly, like some kind of vagrant.”
“Uh, well…” Dan stammered.
“How do you expect to survive if you run around all shitfaced and half-retarded?” she asked. “And you,” she turned to Drew, “runnin’ around with that Glock stuffed in your pants. Are you
trying
to shoot your dick off?”
Drew looked at Dan, his face a combination of shock and humor.
“That’s right,” Shirley went on, “I said
dick.
You got a problem with that?”
“No, ma’am,” Drew said.
“Ma’am?” Shirley scolded. “Do I look like an old lady to you?”
Drew’s eyes widened, shifting left and right. “Um, no…”
Shirley smiled. “That’s better,” she said. “You can call me Shirley. I was just fucking with you.”
Dan sipped the hot liquid. It tasted like ginger and cloves. As he swallowed it, the burning in his ears and throat lessened. It was soothing.
“You took a big risk coming here,” Shirley continued. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Sorry,” Dan said. “We heard the gunshots. We wanted to make sure you were alright.”
Shirley nodded, pursing her lips. “That’s nice,” she said. “But I can take care of myself.”
That was obvious.
“You could have both gotten yourselves killed,” she said. “Those men may not be real military, but they
are
trained. They carry some pretty heavy weapons, too.”
“Yeah,” Dan said. “I saw the
LAW.”
Shirley nodded. “That was just the tip of the iceberg,” she said. “They have a lot more firepower than that. I’m just lucky they didn’t come rolling in on a tank or some other kind of armored vehicle.”
“What were they doing here?” Drew asked.
Shirley shook her head. “Maybe trying to round the last of us up. They should have known better.”
“We’ve heard that they’re killing a lot of people,” Drew said. “Even the ones they take to the quarantine centers.”
“Those aren’t quarantine centers,” Shirley said. “They’re death camps. Just like the Nazis. They take everyone there, and kill the ones that have any will to survive. They let the docile and controllable people live; the ones that are ‘grateful’ to survive with their help.” She made air quotes.
“So they are working for the feds,” Dan said.
Shirley nodded. “What’s left of the feds. I hear the President is dead, and the commies have taken over. They want a country of sheep to rule over. If the system is relaunched, it will be a fascist government. The Constitution is dead, and they will only let you live if you like that sort of thing.”
“Sheeple,” Drew muttered.
Shirley grinned, nodding. “I like that term,” she said. “It’s fitting.”
She then looked down at the Barrett, which was lying on the floor next to Dan. “That looks like Gary’s,” she said.
Dan nodded, looking at it. “It is. We saw Linda a couple of days ago. Gary was dead, and now she is, too.”
“How?”
Dan looked at Drew, who lowered his head.
“She shot herself,” Dan said. “She couldn’t live without Gary.”
“Stupid bitch,” Shirley said. “Who needs a man nowadays? She could have come here.”
“She was just… I don’t know…” Dan stammered.
“Weak,” Shirley finished. “That’s an aspect that will get you killed. You boys should remember that. You’ve survived so far, but it’s only been a week and a half. If you’re going to survive, you need to be strong, and focused. You can’t go getting shitfaced every night, and expect to last. Those things are out there, eating people. And those Nazis are out there, too. They would just assume shoot at you as look at you. And they’re not the only ones.”
“What do you mean?” Dan asked.
“There have been militant groups in this country for decades,” Shirley explained. “Not American militias, either. Fundamentalist groups that have wanted to take over since the cows left home.”
What?
“Who?” Dan asked.
“Jihadists, whackos, neo-Nazis; you name it. They’re fighting each other, as well as the rest of us. America has fallen, apocalypse or not.”
Dan and Drew were quiet then, contemplating the prospect of living under the rule of
any
of the aforementioned groups.
“I see you’re trying to decide which one you’d rather live under,” Shirley said. “How about
none?
How about fighting for what we believe in, and ousting all of them?”
“How many people do you think are out there?” Dan asked. “People like us?”
“Not many,” Shirley replied. “But what they’re all forgetting is that we’re armed, and willing to die for our ideals rather than live under their bullshit. If they win, then they will be ruling a country of no one. We’ll all be dead.”
“But the sheeple…” Drew said.
Shirley turned to him, narrowing her gaze. “We have to kill them, too.”
Drew swallowed audibly.
“Think about it,” Shirley said. “To survive, we’ll have to regroup in small communities. We’ll have to work together as one; growing our own food, hunting our own meat. No one is going to allow anyone who is too lazy to help out, and sits around expecting us all to take care of them. They’ll be turned away, and will probably gather in gangs that go around killing self-sufficient people who know how to do things… just to take those things. Eventually, all of us will die out, and there will no one left to produce. They’ll probably make slaves of us before that, but we’re not going to be slaves, are we? We’re already slaves to them. Well, we
were,
anyway.”
“Share the wealth,” Dan said, sipping his tea again.
“That’s right,” Shirley agreed. “They want us all to share the wealth, and they don’t do anything in return, in which case it’s not really sharing, is it? It’s just
taking.
That’s the kind of world we can expect if we pull through this but don’t stick together.”
Dan considered her words. He had, himself, acted entitled for the past few years. Since his dad passed away, he had lived unemployed in an inherited house, living on inherited money. He had done nothing to improve his life; in fact, he had only made it worse. He was a piece of shit.
“You boys need to leave this area and find somewhere else to go,” Shirley said. “There is nothing here for the future. Look for new areas where people are regrouping; people like us. Even if you have the skills to grow the food you need, this area is done for. Those mercenaries will turn it to shit; especially the areas around the big cities. You can’t fight them alone.”
“What about you?” Drew asked.
Shirley sat back, crossing her arms over her chest and sticking her chin in the air. “I’ve lived here for forty years,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll die here with my good old Remington in my hand… or in my mouth, whatever the case may be.”
Dan looked at the old rifle. It was worn and the stock was faded and stained, but it looked pretty reliable. Shirley had probably had it since she was a kid.
“Do you want anything from the guys outside?” he asked.
Shirley shook her head. “They have nothing I need,” she said. “Take it all. And, if you wouldn’t mind, get rid of the bodies. I’m too old to be dragging a bunch of dead Nazis around.”
“We could really use that Hummer,” Drew said. “And maybe the body armor.”
“Obviously the guns, too,” Dan added.
“Park one of the Jeeps in my garage,” Shirley said. “I changed my mind. I might like to zip around in one of those thingies.”
Dan smiled. “You got it.”
“Do you have a bible?” Shirley asked.
Dan shrugged. “Probably. Why?”
“If you do, then read Revelations,” Shirley said. “All of this stuff is in there, even the comet’s name. Not that I’m a big believer, but you got to hand it to those prophets. They saw things, you know. They had no idea what they were seeing, but they wrote down their visions as best they could. This has been a long time coming, and someday soon the new kingdom will be born. Our kingdom.”
Dan nodded uncomfortably, not really sure whether she was being preachy or what.
“Don’t scoff at everything,” she warned. “Just because it’s in the Bible doesn’t mean it’s
Jesusy.
Some of that shit is history, and some of it is the future. Now get out of here. If I see you again, I might not be so friendly.”
Shirley’s garage had a new occupant. It was a nice black Jeep complete with a shortwave radio, armored chassis, and a modified engine that would give Tony Stewart a boner. It was gift any trigger-happy country bumpkin would enjoy.
Dan and Drew perused the mess left by the gunfight. There were plenty of weapons to go around, and the Humvee was loaded with even more; not to mention, a buttload of ammo. There were twelve M4A1 rifles, six metal ammo boxes full of 5.56 rounds, two SPAS-12 shotguns, one single-use
LAW
rocket launcher, and an assortment of explosives.
“Fucking jackpot, man,” Dan said, grinning. “We could take on the entire Brady Bunch with this shit.”
“And
the Partridge Family,” Drew added.
“This body armor is Kevlar,” Dan said as he unstrapped one of the mercs’ vests. “Fairly heavy, but tough as shit.”
Drew was checking out the chassis of the Humvee, nodding his approval as he knocked on certain areas. “This is armored, too,” he said. “But we could make it better with some welding and a few steel plates.” Dan stopped to watch him. “The windshield is way too big; it would need to be plated, with a small opening. Might as well break out the glass, too. Even the fucking tires are bulletproof, I bet.”
“Do you know how to weld?”
Drew scrunched up his face. “A little,” he said. “Never really done it; just watched a guy at the winery I worked at.”
“There’s a welder at the winery?”
“Oh yeah. He’s the guy who fixes the vats and shit. Those things are made of steel. He’s also modified some of the harvesting machines. The guy’s a fucking MacGuyver.”
A gunshot rang out, and the round ricocheted off of the other Jeep.
“Shit,” Dan said. “I guess it’s time to leave.”
They quickly piled the mercs’ bodies into the Jeep, loading up the Humvee with the armor, rifles, and the unused
LAW
. Drew hopped in the Jeep, starting it up, and stopped in front of Dan.
“Where are we taking these guys?” he asked.
Dan shook his head. “I have no clue. I’m a little worried about them coming back to life like that hunter.”
Drew thought for a moment. “Well, there are too many of them to burn. That might stink a little. Was there a basement at Steve’s house?”
“I don’t think so,” Dan said. “But we could throw them in my car and sink it in the lake. I don’t really need it anymore.”
Drew nodded, pulling away. Dan hopped in the Humvee, taking one last look at the scene, and followed.