Ashes & Madness

by J.B. Havens

Ashes & Madness

Copyright (c) 2016 J.B. Havens

All Rights Reserved.

Ashes & Madness is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Edited by Connie Shingleton Miconi

Front Cover Designed by Samantha A. Cole

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Table of Contents

Prologue:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

About the Author

Other Books by J.B. Havens

Connect With Me!

Prologue:

The newscasters couldn’t contain their horror as they reported on the events of the day and previous evening. A coordinated, well-planned attack on a police stations all across the country. No longer called protestors, these home-grown terrorists had organized themselves and carried out attacks on police stations all across the country within hours of each other. Houston, Chicago, Detroit, the list continued on. Over one hundred and sixty police officers were murdered over the course of one night.

The political climate of the United States had been deteriorating over the course of the year. Officer involved shootings were on the rise, and while most were justified, the few that weren’t took center stage. The media was in a frenzy, sensing blood in the water like sharks they fed on the discontent; amping it up until there was no way out.

In response to the police murders, the President proposed martial law to Congress. Disbanding the police force and placing the citizens of the United States under military rule. This being an election year, many saw this as a ploy for him to stay in office because under martial law the government is shut down and no elections can be held.

This is a story of one possible reality…

Chapter 1

Friday, September 15th, 2016: 6 a.m. Williamsport, Pennsylvania

The droning of the talking heads on the news woke me sharply. Slapping the nightstand I finally managed to not only shut off the alarm clock, but knock it onto the floor with a satisfying clatter. Groaning, I swung my hot-pink painted toes over the side of the bed, dreading yet another day at work.

When I graduated college with a bachelors in library science, the last thing I thought I’d be doing was overseeing a bunch of teenagers at my alma mater. I left high school only to go back. Hooray for me!

Shuffling into my bathroom, I flipped on the shower and waited for the ancient pipes to start working. Most adults loved Fridays, it was the last day of the work week and freedom was upon them. For me, Fridays sucked ass. Hundreds of hormonal teenagers—also eager for the weekend— came through the library doors throughout the day. Joy of joys. I wonder how many couples I’d bust making out in the stacks today.

After showering and dressing, I trudged into the kitchen to start my coffee and force myself to eat some breakfast. Prepping the coffee, a green light blinking on my phone caught my eye. Swiping the screen as the sweet aroma of Arabica filled the kitchen, the icon for a voice mail grabbed my attention. I put it on speaker and grabbed my favorite coffee mug, it read ‘Give me Coffee or I give you Death’.

“Hello Ms. Everett, this is Bert Kramer. School is closed until further notice. The dumbass president enacted martial law, it took effect last night. The wife and I are getting out of the city before the guard shows up. You should do the same.”

“End of message. Check skipped messages.”

Ending the call, my hand shook in response to the principal’s message. We’d all suspected this would happen, but now that it has; I was frozen. My thoughts were rioting in my head: should I run? Should I stay? They’re here to keep us safe right? Just until things get settled again and they take care of the terrorists targeting police officers. Right?

No, wrong. The country was about to fall into chaos and panic. My father’s face appeared in my mind, his stern voice pushing me into action. His military training that he’d passed to me firing through my brain as adrenaline hit my blood stream.

“Go, Molly! Now, before they get here!” The National Guard would roll down my streets at any moment. There would be a curfew, enforced at the end of their rifles. The terrorists that spurred this would be going head-to-head with the Army now that the police have been disbanded. It wouldn’t be safe here.

I tried to set my coffee down on the counter, but missed. It slipped off the tiled edge and smashed onto the floor. Hot liquid and shards of ceramic surrounded my feet. I stepped quickly out of the way and narrowly missed being burned.

“Fuck… I gotta go…” I always talked to myself when I was stressed out. Who cared? There was no one to hear me.

Running to my closet, I grabbed the back pack I used for hiking and started to fill it. Lightweight and durable it was perfect. Shirts and tons of extra socks went in, along with anything else I could think of. I didn’t have a gun, but I did have a decent knife. My father’s KA-BAR from when he was in the Marines and a multi-tool.

I changed again, this time into jeans and a tank top, tying a long sleeved shirt around my waist. I pulled on hiking boots and hurried back to the kitchen to grab food and water. I didn’t have much that was portable. Protein bars went in, along with a jar of peanut butter, and a few small cans of fruit. It was only enough to last me a couple days, I’d need to find more. I couldn’t carry much more than this and I didn’t want to rely on my Bronco. The guard would shut down all the highways.

My father had a hunting cabin out in the woods, but it was nearly thirty miles from here. I had to get there and settle in. Staying in town would be suicide. And I wasn’t ready for dying.

Slamming the front door shut behind me and making sure it was locked—not that it would stop soldiers from breaking in and using it as their quarters—I hurried to my Bronco. Throwing in my pack, I started her up with a rumble. All around me, my neighbors were doing the same thing. Filling their vehicles with supplies and trying to get out of the city before the roads were shut down. In the past year, most average American’s had lost all faith in the government. Our President was setting himself up as a dictator with the military as his hammer. And everyone was a nail.

Not waiting around, I drove out of the city in the early hours of dawn. I was tense and anxious, waiting for a road block or shouts for me to halt. They weren’t here yet, they’d focus on major cities first. Our city was large enough to have a gang and drug problem, but not so large as to be a major strategic point for the guard.

The line at the gas station was out into the road, I maneuvered around it carefully and headed over the bridge. They’d close those first. The one thing about Williamsport is that the main roads in and out all had bridges. Control them and you control the city.

Turning left directly off the bridge, I saw a convoy of military vehicles headed my way, the lead Humvee pulled ahead, blocking the bridge behind me and stopping traffic. Stomping on the gas, I took a side road at an intersection with a screech of tires. I was convinced that I would be fired upon, hot lead and shrapnel ripping my truck apart. Glancing again in my rearview mirror, I was surprised I wasn’t being followed. I had expected pursuit, but there was none. Odd.

Staying on back streets I turned onto Sulfur Spring Road which twisted up the mountain, heading toward the farmland off Route 44. Watching the mirrors as often as I did the road in front of me. There were no other vehicles around me. The only sound was the buzz of the tires on the pavement. It was as if the world had gone silent. The sun had risen and was shining brightly behind me as I climbed higher up the mountain. Getting out of the city was almost too easy…

CRASH! The front end of the Bronco smashed into something, glass shattered and metal screamed all around me and the sharp copper taste of blood filled my mouth as my face hit the wheel. The seatbelt pulled me backward hard, the pressure cracking a rib and knocking the breath from my lungs.

I blinked—something hot was running into my eyes. There was a terrible keening outside and I didn’t know where it was coming from. Did I hit someone? My head was pounding and fuzzy, my eyes wanting to close. I fought to keep them open, desperate to stay conscious. 

I turned my head, looking down at my hand as I fumbled for the latch to the door. My fingers wouldn’t work, they were slipping on the plastic handle. I finally pulled it and the door fell open with a screech of protesting metal. Moving my legs, I tried to get out but was unable to.

What?

The seatbelt was still holding me tight. It took all the concentration I had left to press the red button and slip it off. I fell out of the Bronco, hitting the hot asphalt on my hands and knees, jarring my battered body. I spit blood to the side, the movement making my head swim. My vision was dark and spotty with pain. I fell over sideways, facing the crushed front end of the Bronco.

There was blood and… hair? Brown hair all over the front fender and the little I could see of the grill. The effort it took to move my pounding head so I could see was extreme. The hooves of the deer were still twitching as it made an effort to stand. Even though its chest was crushed. Blood was coming out of its nose and mouth in bubbles that burst with each struggling breath it took.

Painfully rolling to my back, I closed my eyes and tried to get my head to stop spinning. The weight of my eyelids was noticeable and only made it worse, my stomach recoiled and I got to my side just in time to vomit painfully.

“Fuck…” I choked and gasped as I dry heaved onto the road. My skull was splitting open, clutching my head in my hands I was shocked when I didn’t feel bone and brain under my fingertips. Giving up the fight, I curled into a ball, unable to move anymore—blackness swallowed me and my pain.

Chapter 2

I was floating, weightless, and warm. Too warm.

What the hell?

I forced my eyes open, only to be blinded by sunlight. Groaning at the spike of pain being driven through my eyes by the sun, I tried to roll on my side but was stopped short. Hot metal met my palms, I could feel the burn of it even through my jeans. Shading my eyes, I opened them again and found that inches from my nose was the wheel well of a truck bed. I wasn’t floating, I was in the back of a moving truck.

“Where?” Even talking made my head throb, each beat of my heart agonizing.

“Relax.” A gruff voice answered from above me.

I craned my neck, my gut protesting the movement. All I could see was a big pair of brown boots next to my head. He must be sitting on the edge of the truck bed.

“Stop moving. If you puke on me boots I’m gonna be pissed. Ya won’t like that one bit, missy, no, not one bit.” A hacking cough and the sound of him spitting was disgusting.

Fear, more than the heat had sweat running down my temples and neck. I didn’t know who picked me up or what their intentions were. Injured and unable to move much without extreme pain, I was incredibly vulnerable.

“Who are you and where the fuck am I?” I peeked a quick glance at the sun, it was directly overhead. I’d been out for hours. I had no idea how long I lay there unconscious before these cock-sticks picked me up. Maybe I’d be lucky and they were headed in the same direction I had been.

“Shut yer pretty mouth.” A barked order came from above.

“How about you go fuck yourself?” I had more anger then sense.

“Well now, Bubba, looks like ya got a feisty one. I’ll give ya Rachel if ya let me have this one first.” A young, greasy pimple-covered face appeared in front of mine. He had sharp cheekbones, cracked lips, and teeth the color of motor oil. His breath was strong enough to make my stomach roll again at the stench coming from his diseased mouth. His hand reached out, going for my breast.

“Put your hands on me, you hillbilly fuck wad and I’ll shove it so far up your ass you’ll be my puppet.” I growled, doing my best to ignore the smell coming off him. He stank like he’d just crawled out of a grave.

“Woo-ee!” He squealed in excitement. “You gotta let me have her now, Bubba!”

A huge dark maw of a hand shoved the pimple-faced kid back. “You get on over there. She ain’t fer you.”

“That ain’t fair, Bubba! You heard how she done talked to me!”

I tried to be invisible. I had to wait and bide my time. We would stop eventually and if an opportunity didn’t present itself, I would make one. Finding my pack was essential. I wouldn’t survive in the woods for long without it. These dirty hillbilly fucks had no idea who they were fucking with.

“I don’t care about that. She’s mine. Shut yer filthy mouth, Ace, before I shut it for you.” Bubba shoved Ace back, knocking him on his ass on the other side of the truck.

“Bradly will make ya share.” Ace whined like a kid who had their favorite toy stolen.

“You let me deal with Braddy-boy. Stay the fuck over there before you accidentally fall out the truck.”

Ace huffed and grumbled under his breath, but did as he was told. He’d be easy enough to deal with, Bubba was going to be the problem. Not many problems that six-inches of steel wouldn’t solve. I just needed to get my damn pack.

We drove in silence for a while, the sun was steadily moving across the sky. Sweat was making my clothes stick uncomfortably to every part of my body. Trails of it slid down my back into the waistband of my jeans. As soon as I got well away from these bastards, I was stripping down and jumping in a creek or something.

The truck slowed and made a right turn. I tensed, wanting to be ready to fight when they pulled me out. They hadn’t bothered to tie me up, probably figuring that my injury would keep me from striking out. Idiots.

Stones pinged against the undercarriage as the blacktop gave way to a dirt road, slowing the truck even further. I wanted to lift my head and look around, get a feel for where I was, but didn’t dare risk it. Another blow to my head would no doubt spell disaster.

The vehicle rolled to a slow stop, dust blowing over us and sticking to everything. Bubba made no move to get out and the engine was still rumbling under my cheek—the vibrations clacking my teeth together.

“What ye got there, Bubba?” A high pitched, but drawling female voice asked loudly.

“I found her on the road. She smashed her truck up, hit a deer.”

A cackle worthy of a wicked witch from OZ sent shivers down my spine. Who were these fucking people? I felt like I was in a horror movie. Was I going to be raped and cut up for their dinner? Locked up like a toy and only taken out when someone wanted to play with me? Whatever their intentions were, I didn’t care over-much. My hands curled into fists and my heart was pounding as adrenaline shot through my veins. I shoved my pain down deep into my gut, noting thinking about it and refusing to feel it. I’d have time to lick my wounds later, right now I had to do everything I could to survive.

Metal clanged together as what sounded like a chain was pulled off a metal gate, the truck crept forward through the check-point. To say I was terrified was an understatement of grand proportions. But I couldn’t let my fear keep me from surviving.

Chapter 3

Corporal Richard Reid crept quickly through the trees, following the loud diesel truck down a dirt road. He’d seen the rusted out red Ford stop at the gate and when he heard them discussing who was going to get the girl, he knew he had to act. He may have left his unit and refused to follow orders, but he was still a solider. Helping people is what he did, which is why he’d given his commander the figurative finger and flat out refused to fight against his neighbors. His NCO was an egomaniac on a power trip. Ordering people pulled from their homes and anyone who refused him was detained. In a matter of hours, the country he loved was being torn apart. All on the whim of a president not fit for office.

The Ford was creeping down the pot-hole littered dirt road, making it easy for him to keep up with a slow jog. The heat was oppressive, making his BDUs stick to him and his hands sweat profusely inside his gloves. The gloves were necessary though, it was better to have sweaty hands than to lose his grip on his M4. He was lucky that it was late summer, the leaves had yet to change and he had ample concealment in the trees along the road.

The road curved hard to the right and directly after opened up into a large clearing. Scattered around like children’s blocks were ramshackle buildings. The whole place looked like a tent city of sorts. Lines sagging with laundry were strung between the buildings. Several fire pits dotted the clearing, no doubt their only source of heat for cooking. Smoke hung over the camp like a shroud, the stink of soot and garbage permeated the air.  

Checking his watch, he saw it was only fourteen hundred hours, he had a long wait for dark. There were guards stationed around haphazardly. It was apparent they weren’t trained very well as he scouted for a good vantage point. A pine tree to his left looked promising. Double checking the safety on his rifle, he pulled himself up and into the tree. Again grateful for his gloves as sap leaking from the heat stuck to his gloves. Halfway up, there was a wide and sturdy branch that would be a stable seat and give him a good view of the camp.

Pulling his binoculars from their pouch, he set in to do some recon. The truck was parked outside the largest of the buildings, and as he watched a giant of a man jumped out, followed closely by a skinny kid. Lowering the tail gate with a screech he heard clearly, the larger man reached in and jerked out the woman. Blood covered one side of her head, matting her short black hair down against her skull. A large knot was forming on her forehead. She looked scared, but refused to cower. Even when the skinny kid lunged for her.

People were trickling out of their buildings, drawn to the sound. Mostly men with only a few women formed a circle around the group. The big black man, shouted and jerked the woman back and forth by the arm. He was waving them back, defending his right to her apparently. She kept her head down and didn’t respond to the taunting.

“You got yourself in a pickle didn’t you, sweetheart?” Richard said under his breath. He wasn’t sure what drew him to her, maybe it was the determined set of her jaw or the stiffness of her shoulders, but he saw something in her worth saving. This world was swirling down the giant cosmic toilet and would need women and men like her.

As soon as dark fell, he would sneak in and grab her. Taking a drink from his canteen, he leaned back against the rough bark of the tree. Rest now, he thought, you’re going to need it. He didn’t think he’d be getting her out of there without a fight.

****

His grip on my arm was biting, I could almost feel the bruise forming. The heat was making my dizziness worse, the sun beating down on my head. If I passed out again, I’d wake up in a worse state then what I was already in. I clung to consciousness with a gritty determination. The pounding in my head was so bad I could hardly make out what these bastards were saying. It was like I was underwater, all the words sounded thick and indistinguishable from the throbbing in my temples.

“Back off! I found her, she’s mine!” Bubba was shouting, the grip on my arm only tightening further as I was tugged back and forth.

Ace lunged for me, whether he was trying to steal me from his friend or just grope me, I didn’t know. Bubba’s meaty fist snapped out, knocking the smaller man flat on his back. Blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth, he laid there not moving—out cold.

The hit seemed to snap the rest of the crowd into action, they scurried away like cockroaches under a kitchen light.

“Come on,” Bubba said, hauling me behind him as if I has a choice in the matter.

Opening the door to the cabin-like building, he shoved me inside. I tripped and landed hard on my hands and knees. My brain felt like it was going to explode out of my eye sockets and bile rose up in my throat. I twisted to the side, puking on his dirty brown boots. Serves him right, the fucker. My glee was short lived as the breath was knocked from my lungs by his shit kickers.

“Ugh…” I moaned in agony as he kicked me again, I felt a rib snap and pain blurred my vision. Great, two broken ribs…

“Fucking bitch.” He was breathing hard, gasping for air like a lathered horse. The fucker was the size of one, so it fit.

“S-stop…” I begged, hating that I did, but willing to just about anything to make him stop kicking me. My stomach was balled up in a twisting knot of agony. If I had anything left to throw up, I think I would have.  

“Cross me again and you’ll get worse. I’d cut your nose off if I was willing to ruin your pretty face.” His stupid redneck accent fell away like leaves in the fall. I would have to be careful of him, besides his size, he was hiding a keen intelligence. “Get the fuck over there.” He pointed to a small pile of ratty blankets in the corner. “Move and I’ll give you to Ace and that boy doesn’t do gentle. He loves ripping girls up and throwing them away. He won’t go easy on you either, because you teased him.” Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he jerked my head up, forcing me to meet his eyes that were the color of dirty dishwater. “Got me?”

“Y-yes.”

He flung me backward, my head hitting the floor with a hollow sound. “Good. If you behave I’ll get you some food and water. If not, I’ll rape you every day until you die of thirst.” The door slammed shut behind him and a bar dropped down across it, locking me in.

I felt despair creeping in around me, but I wouldn’t give in. I was down, but not out. Slowly crawling on my hands and knees, I painfully made it to the make-shift pallet. Carefully lowering myself down, I tried to find a comfortable position. Nothing worked. My entire body was beaten and pulsing with pain. After several attempts, I managed to get comfortable enough that I could pass out. My last thought before my eyes shut was that I hoped I woke up. Head injuries are tricky bitches…

Chapter 4

Richard watched the sun set through the tree branches in a spectacular blaze of color. Shortly after their arrival, the woman had been hauled into and locked inside one of the larger cabins. No one has gone in or out of it since. The men had all grouped around various fire rings, eating and drinking. The few women that were visible were dressed in rags and bruises. Most were nearly skeletal with hunger. 

There was an older man walking back and forth between the fire rings, stopping and talking with the men. Richard pegged him for the leader of this band of degenerates. They looked like they’d been here for some time and were maybe not even aware of the martial law. The sudden downslide of society hasn’t seem to affect them too much. He’d have to wait a little longer, until they started falling asleep to go in and get the girl.

With no back-up it would be suicide to storm the camp. Nervousness gripped him in a terrible vise. He was in the National Guard, a weekend warrior, he’d never been deployed or seen combat. He had the training, but not the experience. There was no turning back now, he had to save her. He wasn’t sure what it was that was forcing him forward. He’d left his unit only hours ago, refusing to drag people from their homes or blockade towns. This was America dammit, the military should be fighting for the people, not against them on the whim of a self-important dictator. Maybe he saw this as his opportunity at redemption? The shame of desertion was growing by the hour. Focusing on rescuing this damsel was keeping him from running back to his unit.

The light was failing even more, he needed to get into position before complete darkness fell. Working his way down and out of the tree, he was silent and precise in his movements. He may not have seen any combat, but he’d spent most of his formative years hunting with his father in forests very similar to this one. He knew how to be quiet.

Crouching in the foliage at the base of the tree, he checked his rifle and switched off the safety. The hope was to get in and out without firing a shot, but he wasn’t going in unprepared. He pulled his knife and clutched it in his gloved left hand. He didn’t let thoughts of killing a man for the first time enter his mind. Self-deprecating thoughts would get himself and the girl killed. He would get her out of this camp first, then worry about his sanity later.

Watching on, he counted the men. Slowly at first, then in groups they left their fires and hauled themselves to their cabins or tents. It didn’t take long before the clearing was empty. There must be guards posted—Richard waited a little longer. Sure enough, three men emerged and split up into a perimeter patrol. The first of the three walked directly to his position. The shadowy darkness made it difficult to distinguish his features. He didn’t need nor care what he looked like anyway, the goal was to sneak to the large, mashup of a cabin directly in front of him.

“Go… keep going,” he muttered under his breath, trying to mentally nudge the man along. Finally the guard was out of sight, he crouched and quickly ran straight to the cabin. The man who’d taken the woman was in there with her now. His hope was that the door was both unlocked and that he would be able to surprise the bastard.

There were two crude steps leading up into the cabin, uneven and wobbly. He placed his boots carefully, not wanting to alert those inside to his presence. His rifle was heavy, weighing on him. The knife in his fist wavered slightly. Sweat was running into his eyes, but not from the heat. He was scared—that he would fail and that he wouldn’t.

The knob twisted easily under his hand, the door edging open a slow inch at a time. He was tense and ready; anticipating a squeal of hinges or a shotgun in his face. None of those happened. He slid through the door, grateful for his slim build. The moonlight was bright and once the door shut behind him, he was plunged into near blackness.

Richard stood frozen, listening to the awful sounds filling the room. Heavy breathing and grunts, like those of an animal.

“Stop fighting me, bitch, and I’ll try not to hurt you. Keep up your biting and kicking and I’ll make sure you don’t walk right for a week.” A gruff voice echoed through the room.

“Fuck off, you twat-faced mother-fucker.” The curses that emitted from her mouth would do any drill sergeant proud. His eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness and he could make out the shape of the would-be rapist atop the smaller figure of the girl. The bastard’s back was to him, perfect for an ambush.

The harsh and unmistakable sound of a palm cracking against her cheek sprung him into action. Flipping his hold the knife for an upward blow, Richard rushed forward—bending down and grabbing a fist full of the bastard’s slimy, dreadlocked hair he moved to drive the blade up through the base of his skull.

An elbow caught him in the jaw, knocking him back a few steps. Dazed from the painful hit he shook his head, attempting to clear it. His intended victim rushed him, arms splaying wide in a tackle. They went down with a crash, the other man’s considerable weight crushing him into the bare boards of the floor and knocking the breath from his lungs.

“Oomph!” The noise forced from Richard’s chest. He narrowly ducked a right hook, the fucker’s fists were the size of small hams. He’d dropped his knife during the tackle and his rifle was trapped against his body. He fumbled for his side arm, desperate to hold off the throttling coming his way. He saw the woman stand up behind their struggling bodies, his knife safe in her grasp.

“Time to die, Bubba.” Her calm voice stilled his movements in surprise. His attacker stiffened, gasping as blood spewed from his mouth. Richard closed his eyes at the last second and turned his head. Catching most of the blood on his cheek and neck. The man died in seconds, bled out like a hog at a Thanksgiving butchering.

“G-get him off.” Richard ground out, the weight of the dead giant smashing him into the floor and stealing the little air he’d managed to get.

“Sure.” She replied calmly. Shoving together, they managed to roll the body off and to the side. The knife protruded from the base of the man’s neck, blood colored black in the darkness created a huge wet spot on the back of his ratty shirt.

She held out a hand, barely discernable in the darkness, offering to help him to his feet. He took it.

“Thanks for the assist.” He blushed, grateful she couldn’t see it.

“Likewise. Talk about arriving in the nick of time.” Wiping her sweaty brow, her shaking hands betrayed her true emotions. She may have a calm exterior, but she was just has rattled as he was.

Her words and cavalier attitude surprised him. Here he thought he’d be rescuing a damsel in distress. She was no damsel. “Sure. Let’s get the fuck out of here. There are three guards we have to sneak past.” Bending down, he retrieved his knife, pulling it free of Bubba with an awful sucking noise.  

“One second.” She fumbled around the dark room, seemingly searching for something. A muffled ‘a-ha!’ had her back at his side. She was now wearing a backpack, the same type used for hiking. “Let’s go.”

Opening the door no more than an inch she peeked out, scanning the area. Waving him forward and hissing for him to shut the door behind him, she led the way into the forest. Once they hit the tree line, they started running. Ducking branches and side-stepping bushes they rushed headlong into the cover and sanctuary of the woods.

They ran for what felt like hours but was really less than thirty minutes or so, according to the glowing numbers on his watch. “Lady, we’re good. We have a great head start. We need to check our direction and stop running full out, not paying attention to where we’re going.”

Skipping to a stop, she paced slowly, sipping from her canteen. “Name isn’t lady. It’s Molly Everett and you may have no clue where you are, but I do. I’m going where I was headed before I hit that fucking deer.”

Moonlight broke through the trees and he got his first good look at her. Close cropped black hair, matted with blood and dirt surrounded a pixie-like delicate face. Heavy bruises topped with swelling along her jaw distorted her features, but he could still see that she was very pretty. She was pale and sweating, pain pulling her mouth down in a severe line. He could see the bump on her head even in the dark.

As he looked on, her face washed out even more, her full lips turned white and her eyes rolled back in her head. He grabbed her before she could hit the dirt.

Slowly lowering her down, he slipped her pack off and set it aside. He needed a second to think. They couldn’t stay here, they still weren’t far enough from the camp. Once Bubba’s body was discovered, they’d be searching for her. They were outnumbered and outgunned, their only hope of escape was to put as much distance between them as possible.

Laying her gently on her back, he put the pack on, adjusting the straps to fit his larger frame. He was taller than her, but she was built. He tried to let the knowledge that she was in excellent shape and better equipped to deal with this situation than he was not get to him. Making sure the safety was on his rifle, he swung her up and into his arms. With her and the gear he was no doubt carrying over two hundred pounds. He wouldn’t be able to do it forever, even less so in this oppressive heat, but every step he got them further from that camp was essential to their survival. She’d come around soon, he hoped, and could direct him which way she was headed.

Settling her weight more comfortably against his chest, he took a step forward, followed by another and then another.

Chapter 5

Intense heat and jostling woke me. It wasn’t dissimilar to when I was in the back of the truck. The abstract feeling of floating. The man who’d attempted to rescue me was carrying me. We’d more or less rescued each other.

“P-put me down.” My throat was dry and scratchy, the words nearly stuck in my throat. My tongue felt like a hunk of sandpaper in my mouth.

“Good, you’re awake.” Slowly lowering my legs first, he set me on my feet, while keeping an arm around my waist. My head was swimming with dizziness and throbbing in agony. It would be days until the headache fully abated.

I shoved away from him, needing some space. He was a stranger and I’d just about had my fill of strange men. The memory of Bubba’s hands pawing at my body too new and fresh.

“Listen, thanks for the help or whatever, but I’m good now. You can be on your way.” My feet felt like I was wearing concrete boots as I slowly limped away from him. I checked my direction and saw he’d more or less kept going the correct way. My father’s old cabin was only about half a day’s hike away.

“Not a chance. You have a concussion and need help. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Creepy much?” I snapped at him. Impatient with company, I was a loner and not fond of anyone. I realized I didn’t know his name, nor did I care to learn it.

“Fine. I’ll take that. You don’t understand what’s happening. Strength in numbers, Molly.” His face was earnest. The dark was broken by beams of moonlight filtering through the tree tops. Half his face was in shadow while the other was lit with pale white light. It gave him a sinister look. Shaking off the mental image, I turned away and continued to slip between the trees and underbrush.

“You think I don’t know what’s going on? I do. Maybe not as well as you since you have that uniform on but neither am I an idiot. The police have been disbanded and martial law is now in effect. I see you’re a Corporal and a deserter. Neither of those wins any points with me Corporal Reid.” There was just enough light that I could read his last name on his chest along with his rank on his collar.

I could see where I was going, mostly. It most cases, it would be smart to stop and camp for the night and wait for daylight to continue. But this was not most cases. I had to get as much distance between myself and that camp as possible.

“It’s Richard. Richard Reid,” he grumbled from behind me.

“Well, Ricky boy, nice knowing ya. Time for you to move on. Head wherever you were going before you ran into me. Thanks again for your help.” If an open-handed wave could be sarcastic, then I think I’d managed it.

“Nice try. You just keep on marching and I’ll keep on following. You won’t even know I’m here.”

His footsteps were quiet enough, nearly as good as mine. I’d let him follow me for now, but I was ditching him the first chance I got.

****

Dawn was beginning to break and I was quickly tiring. Hiking through the woods on a nice, well-maintained trail may not be too difficult, but when you’re trudging through the forest in the dark—it was damn hard work.

“We need to stop soon. You should rest.” Reid’s voice broke up the silence. Well, as silent as any forest ever is. The chattering of squirrels and cawing of birds was all around us.

“Yeah… I suppose.” I looked around us, trying to see if there was a place of concealment we could take a break in. I didn’t think we were being followed, but caution was best. We were currently walking through a dry creek-bed, to one side was a large tree that had fallen down. The empty space created by the roots coupled with the high bank and low creek-bed made an almost cave-like hollow. Perfect for a few hours rest. “In here.” My ribs were screaming in pain, my body lagging and demanding rest.

“Real five-star accommodations you’d got here, Molly.” He dropped his pack and planted his ass in the dirt. Dust rising up around him in a cloud.

“Don’t like it, go somewhere else.” Sitting down and propping my pack between my feet, I pulled out some food and water. “You’d think that you wouldn’t be bitching considering that you’re in the fucking reserves. Then again, from what I hear, reservists are pussies anyway.” I nearly laughed at his full-scale pout he had going.

“No need for that shit, woman. Not like you served.” He slammed his water bottle back into this pack. Anger carved onto every inch of his face.

“No. That’s true. But my Daddy was a Marine and raised me as one.”

“Whoopie-fucking-do. Until you’ve said that oath and put on that uniform, you don’t understand.” He growled.

“Sure, you’re right, I guess. Whatever.” I was hoping that my dismissive manner and rudeness would drive him away. I had nothing but respect for anyone who wore our countries flag on their arm, but I needed him gone.

“I get what you’re trying to pull and it’s not going to fucking work. I’m going with you. I repeat, strength in numbers. Once the shit really starts to hit the fan, you’re going to need me as much as I’ll need you.”

“If you need backup so bad, why did you desert your unit? Hum?” I nudged his boot with mine.

“Because what we’re being ordered to do is wrong. The police aren’t the problem in this country, the protestors, aka terrorists, are.” He caught my eyes with his. The color of his irises was startling, a storm cloud grey, deep and dark—full of mystery and power. I was getting my first good look at him in the light. Dark red hair that needed a trim, coupled with a strong jawline, and his height made him more attractive than I wanted to admit. He was a little soft around the middle, but still powerful looking.

“Done staring yet? Should I strike a pose? Let you take a selfie with me?” Smirking he pulled a cell phone from his cargo pocket, holding it out to me.

“Fuck off. Actually, you know what? Thanks for saving me and all, but I’m gonna go.” Popping a few Motrin, I took a swig of water to wash them down. “You do whatever it is that you were going to do. If you follow me, you won’t like the consequences.”

Standing and slipping my pack back on, I turned north. I’d only taken a few steps before his words stopped me.

“You saved me as well. And I didn’t really have a plan. I just couldn’t shut down my home town and stand guard against my neighbors and friends. I couldn’t look my best friend, who is now the Sherriff, in the eye and tell him to ‘move along’.” He walked ahead of me, blocking my path.

“I don’t understand why you want to come with me so bad.” I moved to step around him but he countered, blocking my way again. “Don’t you have a family or something? Go bother them.”

“I do have a family actually. Mother, father, sister, and my boyfriend. But if I go back there I’ll be arrested and executed for desertion.”

I stamped down any molecule of sympathy that arose. “So that means what to me?”

“We can help each other. Stick together and make it through until life goes back to normal.” He shrugged, trying and failing to appear casual.

I could see the fear written on his face. He had training that I didn’t and he was strong. I had no idea how long I would have to be out here, could be weeks or months. Years. Who knew? He said he had a boyfriend, which was good news for me. I didn’t want to be bothered with some soldier’s hard on. Was I actually considering this?

“You don’t even know where I’m heading.”

“Doesn’t matter. Could be a cave or whatever. I don’t fucking care. We both have a better chance of survival together. You know I’m right.”

I gave myself a moment to think about it. To really consider what he was saying. The thought being alone in my father’s cabin the rest of the summer and fall did not sound appealing. I could do it, but if we ended up needing to be there all winter… I would need his help.

“Fine. But I’m in charge. Period. Don’t like it, you may as well go now.”

His smile was charming and straight out of a toothpaste commercial. Dimples and all. “You won’t regret this.” He stepped aside with a bow and wave of his arm.

“Oh, I already do. But you have a good point. If we’re out here over the winter, I will need your strong back to help prepare so we don’t freeze or starve to death. Just remember I’m not letting you come along for your conversation skills. Keep your shit to yourself.”

“Affirmative.”

Rolling my eyes, I led us north. I think we were safe to slow down. There had been no signs of pursuit as of yet. We’d be at my father’s cabin by late afternoon if we kept up this pace. Rest tonight, then tomorrow was prep and expanding the defenses. This thing could be over in days or never. I was going to prepare for long-term.

Chapter 6

Ace followed the tracks, even in the dark it was easy for him to trail after them. He’d been raised in these woods, this is what he was good at. He’d heard the noises coming from Bubba’s cabin, figuring he’d get to watch and maybe beg for a turn with that bitch so he’d checked it out. Only to find Bubba dead in a pool of blood and the woman gone.

He should have told the others, but he wanted her all to himself. Bradley, their leader, would be furious he’d left the camp without permission. He’d take whatever punishment he had coming as long as he managed to get his hands on the black-haired mouthy slut. She’d be begging him for death before he was done. And even after he killed her he might keep her around for a bit. He liked them when they were quiet.

There was someone with her. Boyfriend maybe? If he was her man, why wasn’t he in the truck with her? No, maybe someone grabbed her. Stole her from Bubba… from him.

“Nah, that ain’t gonna fly with me, boy. She mine. I’m gonna find ya and peel yer hide off while she watches.” He flinched, expected the smack to the back of his head every time he was caught talking to himself. He relaxed when nothing came. Giggling at the image of a skinless man, he picked up the pace, determined to find them before nightfall.

****

The cabin was in sight. A little more weathered than the last time I’d seen it, but still in great shape. Deep in the forest of some land my father had purchased from the state long ago. 

“Here we are.” There was no road leading up to the cabin. The only way in was to hike. If I’d made it in the truck, there was a small garage of sorts about a mile south. Well hidden, the truck would have been safe there. When he built it, solar power hadn’t been an option yet. So there was no electricity and water came from a well and hand-pump in the small yard at the front of the cabin. There was an outhouse set a short distance from the back door, nestled in a small stand of trees. There were no modern amenities in sight.

“Huh, well, I guess I’ll be doing some hunting then.”

Chuckling, I dropped my pack to get my keys. “You’ll see.” Opening the door, I led him inside. It was a basic cabin, two main rooms on the ground floor, the kitchen and living area with a loft above. The loft had two small bedrooms that each only had enough space for a twin bed and small nightstand. There was a wood fired stove/oven combo in the kitchen and a fireplace in the living room.

A film of dust covered everything and cobwebs hung in the corners. “Well. It’s better than the barracks, so it works for me.” He dropped in pack on the couch, dust flying into the air around it. Inspecting the kitchen, he found the cupboards full of canned goods, candles, and pretty much everything we’d need to prepare meals. “Nice set up here.”

“Yeah, this was my Dad’s place.” I pointed to the photos on the mantle. Each was a memory of my time here with my Dad. He built this cabin after my mom died. It was a place for us to both retreat and spend time together away from regular life. I picked up the newest frame, contained within it was the last memory of my father. His big arm was slung over my shoulder, a day’s worth of fishing strung on a line in my hands. Trout of every size and color. Last summer was our final visit here together. After we’d gotten home, he’d set me down and explained that he’d been to the doctor. He had cancer and wouldn’t survive the winter. He hadn’t. Shaking the memory loose, I dusted the frame with my shirt tail and replaced it on the field stone mantle.

“Molly? You okay?”

“Sure. Tonight we rest. Tomorrow we tighten up the defenses.” I turned my back on him and ascended the ladder to the loft. A thin privacy wall separated the two rooms. I took the room on the right, my father’s old room. The ceiling was low and sloping, I scooted on my knees around the bed and opened the window. A gust of fresh air blew in, stirring the dust and stale smell around me. “Hey, Ricky, open the windows down there will ya? We gotta air this bitch out.”

Wood swollen with humidity screeched as he opened them. I began stripping the bedding off the small mattress, throwing it over the loft. It would be too much of a pain to wash them, but I at least wanted them outside and shaken. The ladder rattled as Richard climbed up. “I’ll get my bed,” he said softly.

“Thanks. We can’t wash them today, laundry is an all-day affair out here, but we can at least get the dust off them.”

“Got it.” His sheets and blanket sailed over the railing, landing on top of mine in a big white pile. “I can start dinner, while you do the sheets? I can make something out of just about anything.”

“Works for me, dude.” Descending the ladder and going outside I got to work shaking out the bedding. After I got as much dirt off each one that I could, I hung them on a tree branch. It wasn’t prefect, but the sun and fresh air would go a long way toward making it tolerable to sleep on.

A prickle of awareness slid down my spine, the hairs on the back of my neck popping up in a rush. Someone was watching me. Turning back to the cabin, I could see Richard through the windows, he was bent over going through the cupboards, not looking out here. If there was someone out there, I didn’t want to alert them. My knife was still at my waist, but I had no other weapons on me. Carefully hanging the last quilt, I went back inside.

Shutting the door behind me drew a questioning look from Richard. Putting my finger to my lips, I flipped the deadbolt and pushed the slide blots into the ceiling and floor. The metal rods were inch thick steel and over six inches long. The locks coupled with the steel crossbeams made it so once locked, this door wasn’t opening.

Coming over to where I was standing with my back to the door Richard stood beside me. “What’s going on?” He whispered.

“Someone is out there.” We must have been followed without either of us realizing it. Whoever was out there was good.

His body instantly tensed with alertness. Handing me his side arm, he readied his rifle. He slipped on the cloak of professional soldier effortlessly. “Stay away from the windows.”

“Gee, thanks for the advice Captain Obvious, and here I was about to put my head out so he could shoot me.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.” Dropping to his stomach, he army crawled to the window by the door and cautiously looked out.

“Thank you.” I smiled my best ‘you know I’m cute’ grin and ignored his eye roll.

“I see ya in there! Bring out the woman and I’ll kill ya quick. If you make me come in there after yas, I’ll make it real slow, boy!” Ace’s voice shattered the silence.

Richard army crawled back to my position behind the couch. “Who is this fucker?”

“He was the underling of the guy we killed. They kept fighting over me. His name is Ace,” I replied.

“I don’t care what his fucking name is, dammit. Is he alone?” Richard’s shoulder brushed mine as he sat closer.

“How the hell should I know? I’m not the hillbilly whisperer!”

“Time is running out, bitch! Give yerself up. If you make me come in there, I’ll cut out your tongue and mouth fuck you until you choke to death!”

“This guy is a real winner…” I let my sentence trail off. “Well, I have an idea. Daddy built tunnels under the cabin. There’s a whole other emergency living space down there. And… an escape tunnel. You go down and come out behind him and I’ll give myself up to him as a diversion. But you better make it snappy.” I left the rest unsaid.

“A tunnel? Really? Where?” Frantically looking around, he was coming up empty.

“You’re sitting on the entrance.” Smirking, I pointed downward to the rug we were sitting on. “Come on, we’re out of time.” A pounding was starting up on the door. I’d go out the back, no way did I want that lunatic in here.

Scooting forward on my butt, I pulled back the Navajo rug to reveal a trap door. Heaving it upward on silent hinges, I handed Richard the flashlight stowed on the ladder for this very reason. “Here. You’ll need this. Follow it straight back, do not pass go, do not sight see. There will be another ladder like this one. It opens in the woods about two-hundred yards behind the cabin. Fucking hustle, you got me? I’ll give you a count of fifty until I go out.”

“Copy that. You’re a stone cold bitch, you know that right?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Shoving him down the ladder, I shut the door and put the rug back in place. The pounding on the door was harder, like he was using a log to try and break it down. He could beat on it until the end of days, it wasn’t going anywhere. An oak door reinforced with steel cross beams wasn’t coming down with anything short of explosives.

I did my own army crawl through the kitchen to the back door. Ace could see me if he’d stop beating on the door long enough to look. I kept the pistol in my hand, hoping I’d get the chance to use it. Maybe I could sneak up on him before Richard came out? I was no solider, this was all new to me. I’d done drills with my father, but doing it for real was very different. My hands were shaking and my heart felt like it would beat out of my chest. The mixture of high octane terror and spiking adrenaline was flip-flopping my stomach.

The pounding on the door quit—my time was up.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!” Ace yelled, sounding like he was circling around back.

Twisting the knob, I cautiously opened the door. I’d decided to meet him head on and trust that Richard would get behind him in time to keep the bastard from carrying out his plan. As I crept out, I saw Ace’s retreating back going around the left side of the cabin.

Holding the pistol out in front of me, I stalked after him. Reaching the corner of the cabin, I flattened my back against the siding. Listening carefully, I couldn’t hear anything other than the screech of insects and twittering of birds. Dropping to one knee and bending my elbows to keep the weapon close to my chest, I led with the pistol and popped my head around the corner quickly. Ace was thirty yards away, looking in the kitchen window.

Ducking back behind the corner of the house, I steadied myself with a few deep breaths. The grip of the Glock was slick under my sweating palms. I killed Bubba without too much trouble, but this was different. He wasn’t right in my face, trying to end me.

Calm your shit. Get this done so you can clean up and sleep for a day.

Mentally lecturing myself usually didn’t do any good, but this time around it snapped me into action. Staying down on one knee, I again rounded the corner.

My nose exploded in agony, a tooth fell onto my tongue and blood burst from my mouth and nose. I fell backward, too dazed to catch myself. White streaks of agony and shock blinded me. The pounding in my head was so loud no other sounds could penetrate. I barely registered a slap on my cheek.

“Think I didn’t see ya, huh, bitch? Not much gets past Ace, no ma’am. I saw ya peek ‘round that corner. Picked up this here rock and took care ‘o business.” A thud next to my head vibrated through my aching jaw. “Now you just lay there and look at them purty lights and pay no mind to Ace.”

My limp legs were jostled and jerked around as Ace stripped my pants down. He forgot to take my boots off first and was stuck. Cursing under his breath he made quick work of getting them off.

“S-Stop.” I mumbled. The pain in my mouth was intense—blood was a salty thickness in my throat.

I opened my eyes a slit, only to be blinded by sunlight. Ace was standing over me, fumbling with his belt buckle and sweating. I could hear him panting like a dog on a hot day. I tried to move, groaning in agony with even the small movement of my head. My fingers twitched but I was still unable to pick up my arms. It was like a lead weight was sitting on my body.

A loud boom made my ears ache and something hot and wet hit my face, followed immediately by a crash to my right. Something was laying on my arm, crushing it into the dirt.

“Molly!”

Richard’s voice cleared some of the shock away. “W-what?” I forced myself to lift my arm and wipe my palm down my face. Squinting at my fingers and hand, it was stained red with globs of greyish-pink material mixed in.

“No, no, honey. Let me. Just lie still.” The weight was lifted off my arm and he was wiping my face off. “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up. I’ll deal with him later.” Richard hauled me up to my feet, making my head swim and my stomach clench. Glancing down I saw Ace’s body. I only knew it was Ace because it couldn’t be anyone else. Most of his face and head was destroyed by the bullet. His brains were leaking out of his broken skull onto the grass. My insides gave up the battle and I vomited. The violence of it making me wish I would just fucking pass out already. My skull was throbbing and my face felt twice its normal size.

“Get it out. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” His platitudes were empty, but comforting nonetheless.

We made our stumbling way back into the cabin. Richard laid me gently on the couch. Even as careful as he was, I still groaned in pain. The pain of my broken ribs was stealing the little breath I’d managed to recover.

“I’ll be right back. I have to get water from out front.”

Not bothering to respond I concentrated on remained as motionless as possible. The past two days had been hell on my body.

Here’s hoping I don’t get a brain bleed or something. Well I must be okay if my sarcasm is still working? Right? You’d think that would be the first part to go. Mentally giggling, I tried to relax.

The door shutting and locks clicking back into place pulled me back to reality. I opened my eyes again, not having realized I’d closed them, and watched Richard carrying a bucket of water. Dragging a chair over to the couch, he sat and began to clean me up.

“Ugh, woman, you have so much blood and dirt in your hair it’s going to take a good dunking to get it all out.”

Shockingly cold water ran down my face in rivulets, finding their way onto my neck and chest. “Cold…”

“I know. No help for it. The cold will help with the swelling anyway. Do you have any painkillers here?”

“Yeah, somewhere. Kitchen prolly…” I trailed off. Not bothering to finish my sentence. The frigid water felt good now that I’d gotten used to it.

I let myself drift off, lulled into a half-sleep by the rhythmic movement of the cloth on my face and neck.

Chapter 7

Tucking the blanket around her shoulders, Richard resumed his vigil. It was okay if she slept, but he needed to wake her often. Make her drink water and keep an eye on her pupil reactions. If she had brain damage there wasn’t much he could do for her anyway.

Her dark hair was sweaty and still dirty, sticking to her scalp. There wasn’t much more he could do outside of a full bath. He’d wiped down her face, neck, and arms, but didn’t want to change her clothes. She’d be pissed that he’d undressed her, whether he liked boys or not.

His stomach rumbled with hunger and he remembered the dinner he’d been set on making before their visitor showed up. Heading back into the kitchen, he found a pot and beef stock. Adding vegetables and dried beef he started a fire in the stove. The heat was intense, but there was no help for it. He didn’t want to risk a fire outside. The broth in the soup would be good for Molly anyway.

His mind wandered back to the body outside and the job that lay ahead of him. Making sure the fire was good to go and dinner wouldn’t burn, he quietly left the cabin. With no shovel that he knew of available, there was no way to bury the man. But neither did he want the corpse anywhere near the cabin. Animals would be drawn in by the scent of blood and rotting flesh.

The body was already drawing flies, luckily there wasn’t much smell. Yet. Gritting his teeth, Richard grabbed the man’s ankles and pulled. Ace wasn’t big, but dead weight was called that for a reason. He was damn heavy. Grunting and heaving, he dragged the body in to the woods. Sweat was pouring off him, soaking his shirt and even the waistband of his pants. Unwilling to strip down for this filthy task, he kept tugging and walking backward.

The muscles in the small of his back were screaming and his knees ached with the force he was putting on them. The cabin had long since been hidden from view by the thick trees. Looking around, he tried to find a depression in the ground, anything in which to put the body. To his left was a tree that looked as if it’d fallen decades prior. It was hollow and covered in moss and ferns.

“Perfect.” Dropping Ace like a sack of rocks, he stomped on the log, breaking open a space big enough to stuff the rapist. The cracking of dry and rotting wood was overly loud in the otherwise quiet forest. Birds took flight and squawked their displeasure.

Grabbing the body around the middle, he dumped him head first into the log. Pushing and shoving on his back to get the rest of him to pop inside. Shoving downward Richard got the legs in.

“Fucking finally.” Glancing around, there were branches with leaves still attached all over. Picking them up, he filled in the space in the log. Packing the material inside as tightly as he could. You’d have to be standing right over the log and looking down to spot the body. A person walking through would never see him.

“Not that I’m worried about a murder charge. Some backwoods, hillbilly rapist isn’t going to be missed by the cops. Well, not that there are cops anymore.” Talking to himself was out of character. The last few days had been chaotic at best. A little mental slip here and there was expected.

Once he arrived back at the cabin, he stripped down to his boxers and washed at the pump. The water was icy cold and he was grateful his boyfriend wasn’t here to see the unfortunate result of cold water on his male anatomy.

His mind tried to flash back to the last time he’d seen Greg. Refusing to follow that painful train of thought, he went back inside. Quickly dressing upstairs he descended back to the main room to check on Molly. Her breathing was steady and even. 

“Soup is burning,” she mumbled without opening her eyes.

“Shit!” Running over to the stove, he grabbed the handle of the pot only to drop it on the floor. Searing pain enveloped his palm. “Fuck. Shit. Dammit. Fucking hell. Fucking mother fucker.” The curses kept pouring out. The soup was all over the floor and his hand was already blistering.

“Sounds like it hurts.” Molly’s laughter filled voice just irked him even more.

“It was your fucking soup! Now I have to start all over. Where’s the first aid kit?” He was clutching his hand helplessly. The intense pain was making his eyes water.

“Under the sink. Where else would it be?”

“You must be feeling better. Your sarcasm button is still working. Keep pressing that shit, woman. You can kill the next rapist all by yourself.” Locating the kit and jerking it open, he smeared burn cream on his palm. The relief was immediate, but short-lived. Carefully wrapping gauze around his hand, he stood perfectly still attempting to will the pain away. Burns suck… so bad.

“I killed the first one. You got the second. We’re even.”

“Fair enough.” She heaved a heavy sigh and sat up. Followed by immediately laying back down. “Okay, that was stupid. But not as dumb as you grabbing that pot.”

“Bitch.”

“Dick head.”

“Oh, because I haven’t heard that one before. Real original. Go the fuck back to sleep. It’s obvious your brain is fine.”

“You’re so busy being pissed at me that you forgot about your hand though, didn’t you?” Laughing softly, she kicked the blanket off and settled back into the couch. Presumably to go back to sleep.

Realizing she was right, he swore some more and knelt to clean up the mess. He was starving and was ready to eat something cold, right out of the can. Wouldn’t be the first time.

After eating he climbed into the loft and collapsed into bed. The sun was just beginning to descend on the second full day of martial law. Two days that had changed his life and that of his country forever. Remembering seeing a radio in the bunker, tomorrow he set himself the task of trying to discover what was going on in the rest of the country.

Chapter 8

The pain woke me first. Followed quickly by buzz-saw loud snoring. If I’d been in the loft, I’d put a pillow over his face. As it was, I had an urgent need to pee.

Carefully holding my head with both hands as to keep it from falling off and rolling away, I sat up by inches. Nausea returned, but quickly abated.

“Okay, feet next.” Slowly swinging them around, I gingerly stood. “Seems okay…” One step, followed by another and I wasn’t falling down or throwing up. All good things. I picked up the pace, needed to get to the outhouse sooner rather than later.

Finishing up, I noticed the flattened grass where Ace’s body had been. Richard must have taken care of it while I was out yesterday. The light wasn’t that bright, but it was burning my retinas all the same. My mouth was dry and sore with a nasty taste coating my tongue. God only knew how bad my breath smelled.

Back inside, I dipped a glass into the bucket of water and rinsed my mouth several times. I had toothpaste here somewhere but this was a good start. Spotting a bottle of Tylenol on the shelf near the stove, I swallowed three. The gap in my teeth was sore and swollen, running my tongue over it I checked to make sure it was knocked out cleanly. Last thing I wanted to deal with was an abscessed, half-broken tooth. My tongue touched an empty hole. Good.

The snoring stopped, followed by a cough and feet hitting the floor above me. The ladder rattled as he descended.

“Morning, sleeping beauty.” I couldn’t help but pick on him.

“Morning yourself. If I’m sleeping beauty then who are you? You look like the troll from Billy Goats Gruff.”

“Funny. I need a bath, I know. I smell like blood and worse.”

“Just stay downwind from me, okay?”

Giving him the finger, I grabbed a toothbrush and set about getting the awful taste out of my mouth. 

“I saw a radio downstairs. We should try and figure out what sort of state the country is in.”

Spitting and rinsing, I turned around to face him. “I forgot about the radio. Hope it works.” Leading the way to the rug, I kicked it aside. Without being asked, Richard lifted the hatch and led the way down into the bunker. A small amount of light filtered in from above and the beam of Richard’s flashlight allowed me to see just enough to find the breakers. The box was on the wall beside the stairs, fairly well hidden. Flipping the black switches, lights buzzed and blinked on in a row down the entire bunker. The LED bulbs were good for years and drew very little power.

“What the?” Turning in surprise, Richard’s red hair looked almost orange under the bright lights.

“There is a generator in the other room. It’s soundproofed so you can’t hear it. It’s old and there isn’t much fuel so it’s only for emergencies. Not every-day use.”

Richard was looking around like a kid in a candy store. The radio was on the pseudo kitchen table. “Got it.” Sitting down at the small table, he expertly turned on the radio and began tuning it. A low hum filled the bunker and static crackled.

As if by magic, a voice rumbled out from the radio.

“This is Charlie, can anyone hear me? Over.”

“Charlie, we read you. Over.”

“Hey man! Boy is it nice to hear someone’s voice. I’m in Chicago, where are you? Over.”

“Backwoods of PA. What’s it like out there? Over.”

There was a long pause before Charlie responded. “I’ve been hearing reports from all over. Here half the city is burning. What’s not on fire is being looted by gangs. You can’t go out. The stink of the bodies and smoke is terrible. It’s damn dangerous out there. L.A. is gone. Riots are keeping the Guard busy in all the major cities I’ve heard from. Most small towns are silent or… just gone. America is burning.”

“Dammit. I was afraid of that. You should get out of the city if you can. Over.”

“No can do, my friend. I’m in a wheelchair, have been since ‘Nam. No, sir, ‘ol Charlie ain’t going anywhere. Over.”

“Fuck.” It was like a punch to the gut. My beloved country, the one that my father sacrificed so much for, is crumbling into ashes. In a matter of two days, the United States has descended into chaos and anarchy. Everything our founding fathers fought and died for was gone in an instant. Hundreds of years of greatness falling to the wayside under the boot of a dictator and its own people. 

“Thanks Charlie. Hang tight man. Over and out.” Richard flipped the switch and the buzzing static stopped, silence once again weighing on us. “What now?”

“Not much we can do. We have food here, but not enough to last the winter. We need to hunt and do what we must to ensure our survival. We have to bolster the defenses and prepare to defend this place. It’s unlikely anyone will find us here, but it’s best to be prepared.”

“I agree.” Resting his head on his arms, he groaned. “The world has gone mad.”

“The world was always mad, Richard, it has just finally slipped its leash.”

The End.

About the Author

J.B. Havens lives in rural Pennsylvania, and is a wife and mother of three, a boy and twin girls. She has a love for a good cheesesteak and anything that involves coffee or chocolate. When she’s not caring for her family, she is busy researching and writing her next novel.

Other Books by J.B. Havens

Steel Corps Series

Core of Steel

Hardened By Steel

Forged By Steel

Beyond the Night

Connect With Me!

Facebook - www.facebook.com/jbhavens

Twitter @havens_b

Or on her website www.jbhavens.weebly.com, where you can find character bios and even a short story or two. She loves to hear from readers, so reach out and tell her what you think!