The Renegades 2 Aftermath (A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Thriller) Read online

  I watched as thirty Z’s shuffled their way through the gas station. They moved with purpose in the same direction. What had they heard or seen? Were others like us moving through the city searching for some glimmer of hope? Trying to escape the dead? Searching for people who might offer them care or comfort, or simply just food and water? How many had survived or knew what had caused this horrific outbreak?

  Thousands in the city died in a matter of weeks, and that was just Salt Lake. The thought that this had hit all over the United States and most possibly the world was daunting. It was enough to break anyone.

  Society had shot backwards in a matter of weeks. Some would never fathom how quickly a human could succumb to what they may have kept at bay inside of them. Now the streets were full of those who would shoot you without batting an eye, just for a meal. Others who would rape you, not because they were drunk or on drugs, but simply because they could get away with it. Of course there would be those out there that thought life would be just be a bed of roses. Folks who were naïve to think that everything would continue as normal. That human decency would triumph over evil. I wanted to believe that as much as anyone else, but when I thought about all we had seen, all I could think was...

  Wake up and smell the coffee!

  Nothing was the same now. It never would be.

  How much had we relied on our creature comforts, expecting them always to be there?

  They were gone and so were our loved ones. It wasn’t what I saw outside that frightened me, it was what I didn’t see inside me that did. What I might become if pushed too far?

  “We’re getting out of this, brother. This is it,” Dax said as he tossed peanut shells into a can in front of him.

  I glanced at him. “I hope so. I really do.”

  STANDOFF

  Seven hours, and we would be on our way to the last defense against a world that had gone to the shitter and forgot to wipe its ass. It seemed a little too good to be true to think that we were going to get out of this mess. The hours had passed fast since Garret delivered the news. Now all there was left to do was wait.

  But that was our mistake.

  It was around eight in the evening when we knew were in trouble. Lights from approaching vehicles circulating the block for the past hour cast shadows on the walls. We assumed it was either the Tongan Crips doing their rounds, or other survivors. What we didn’t realize was we had been spotted earlier that day. Why they had waited until now was anyone’s guess. Perhaps they were assessing the situation, seeing if we were with another gang or group?

  Specs flicked on a flashlight to check his ammo.

  “Turn that off,” Dax snapped.

  “I need to see.”

  Dax snatched it out of his hand and flipped the switch.

  “Sorry,” Specs replied, realizing what he’d done.

  Dax, Baja, and I had crawled up to the front window of the store and peered out behind a life-size cutout of a big pink Energizer Bunny that had been inserted into the window to promote a new kind of rechargeable battery. Had there been daylight, it would have looked as if it was giving birth to Baja. He was sneaking a peek between its legs every minute to see if they were approaching.

  “What have you got?” Dax asked.

  “A box of shells,” I said while the others reeled off what they had for ammo. We had burned through a lot since leaving Benjamin’s place. There was more than enough to get us over to the airport and hold off a small group of Z’s but not for a standoff with a gang.

  “You think they know we’re in here?” Ralphie asked.

  Dax squinted, nodding. “That armored truck hasn’t moved for the past twenty minutes.” They had pulled up right outside the gas station. Two of them, dressed in black with cream khakis, and blue bandanas, popped out of the back. They were talking among themselves. One of them lit a cigarette and cast a glance behind him.

  “Maybe they need gas?” Specs asked.

  “Nah.”

  I looked back at Jess and Izzy. They had been watching the back entrance. There were no windows out back, but at least if anyone tried to bust in the door they would end up riddled with bullets, and an arrow in their dick. Only the past hour had we managed to pry Kat away from Garret. He’d stopped breathing. It was only a matter of time before his eyes would open, the jaw would move, and he’d be looking for his first meal. We stayed low to the ground moving around. There was no telling if and when they were going to move in on us. Just that they were keeping watch. I didn’t wait for Garret to turn, once Kat was out of sight I drove my knife into the back of his skull, twisted and pulled back out, using his shirt to clean it.

  “What do you think they are waiting for?” Ralphie asked.

  Just as he said that the inside of the shop was flooded with light, then it fell into darkness as another vehicle pulled alongside the armored truck. It was a green military jeep. I kind of figured they would have alerted others to our presence. There was no way I was going to die from a bullet of a gangbanger.

  “Back up,” Dax said cautiously to Ralphie who was getting a little too close to him for comfort. There were even more of them, six jumped out, each one carrying an assault rifle. They paused for a few seconds talking among themselves before looking our way.

  Maybe Dax caught something I didn’t but he began moving back.

  “Get back from the windows.”

  “What?” Ralphie asked.

  “Get back—”

  I’d never seen Dax move so fast. Bullets snapped over our heads and glass shattered on top of us. Fragments flew through the air cutting us. Ralphie let go of his gun and instantly curled into a fetal position, clinging to his ears. I dropped flat on my face with glass hitting me from every angle. The noise was deafening. The pain was a wake-up call.

  Baja and Specs scurried around behind the counter, while Dax took cover behind one of the shelving aisles. It wasn’t much use. Shit was flying everywhere; packets of dry noodles, tins of beans, magazines, and chunks of the wall. The whole shop became like a giant piñata and we felt like candy stuck inside just waiting to drop.

  As soon as they stopped to reload, we were up returning fire. I got lucky and hit one of them square in the chest, he fell back against the truck. Dax took out three of them with head shots. He always was the better shooter. Outside they were shouting in Spanish, and taking cover behind the truck and jeep. Bullets were ricocheting off the metal. More lights washed in. We could hear them yelling to one another. About what? Fuck knows!

  “Why don’t we aim for the gas pump?” Izzy shouted

  “This is not the bloody movies, Izzy. It’s going to take more than a bullet to blow this place. And then what? For all we know the gas tanks might be directly below us. Any more bright ideas?”

  She didn’t take kindly to his remarks. If he had already pissed her off, he was now definitely off her Christmas card list.

  Then, for a moment there was silence. We took the moment to catch a breath only to find ourselves scrambling when Baja spotted one of them lining up with an RPG. These bitches were not messing around. It was the closest we had come to war, and it was happening right now in a fucking 7-Eleven of all places.

  “Holy crap!” he hollered.

  After the explosion of the RPG tearing its way through the store, and reducing a quarter of the store to open sky, we were pissed, but not as much as Baja.

  “You gangbanging motherfuckers.” Baja stood straight up and began unloading round after round at them in one continual spray like a scene from a Rambo movie.

  “Get down,” Dax screamed but Baja wasn’t paying any attention. Thankfully Specs was, he reached up and dragged Baja down to the ground by the back of his pants, causing his naked ass to become exposed to Jess, Izzy, and Kat.

  “Shit, dude. Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Dax hollered.

  “Nice ass,” Izzy joked. Baja flipped her the bird. It was good to see they hadn’t lost their sense of humor in the middle of what was pure chaos. Then
again I’d heard of cops and military folk doing the same thing in the field. It was something to do with the trauma of witnessing horror after horror. It wasn’t that you lost sight of what you were in, it was just you needed something to keep yourself from losing it.

  “Dax,” I yelled through the noise of gunfire. “We need to get out of here now. There’s no way we are going to match them shot for shot. There’s more of them than us and probably even more on the way.”

  “You think?” he spat back.

  Ralphie yelled from his fetal position. “Why the hell are they doing this?”

  Baja popped out from behind the counter, covered in dust, looking like a soldier from Afghanistan.

  “I don’t know, maybe they want to cash their Lotto ticket,” Baja added, grinning. Specs jabbed him in the gut with the butt of his gun as he scrambled over to where we were.

  More glass came crashing down on top of Ralphie. “Fuck,” Ralphie replied.

  “Ralphie, get your gun and get your ass over here now.”

  He shook his head. The poor guy was paralyzed by fear. All of us were either crouched, laid flat, or had our backs up against anything that would provide cover. A few more shots unloaded, peppering the wall behind us. It was only a matter of time before they would start moving in.

  That last round must have caused Izzy to break a nail or something as she started returning rapid fire like a mercenary who’d had enough of being in the jungle. Yeah, that girl knew how to put a guy in place. I pitied Dax. Maybe it was for the best.

  I took advantage of the additional cover to slide my way across the floor like a bloody lizard heading for Ralphie. Once I reached him, I took a hold of the back of his belt and attempted to drag. I say attempt because it was nothing more than that. Now I knew he was a heavy fella from the moment I laid eyes on him, but I swear I felt like a five-year-old trying to drag a Mack truck with its brakes on.

  “Dude, get your ass up,” I screamed at him.

  He shook his head. I was about to try again when a DVD hit me in the side of the head.

  “What the fuck?”

  I rubbed my head and looked down. It was a workout DVD with some bitch from the ’80s wearing a pink leotard. Of course Baja thought this was fucking hilarious. His timing was so off I felt like shooting him in the leg right there and then just to snap him out of it.

  “Dude, your constant marijuana usage has dulled what remaining brain cells you have.”

  Fortunately, I didn’t have to struggle for much longer, Specs joined me and we hauled Ralphie’s fat ass behind cover. I took a hold of his handgun and wrapped his mitts around it.

  “This fear. Swallow it now or it’s going to get you killed. Now fight or sit there like a coward and watch us die.”

  Yeah, okay, maybe I was being a little hard on him but with live bullets firing at us every two seconds and those fuckers outside using an RPG on us, this wasn’t a time for wimping out. But how many times had that happened to soldiers on the front line? They froze up and couldn’t think? They rolled over and wished they had taken that shitty job at Walmart instead.

  I scoffed thinking of all the asinine ads on TV that the military used to lure in kids no older than me. How the military tried to portray the career as being badass. Jumping out of airplanes, gliding out of water all stealth and shit, only to take down the enemy in between munching down a cheese sandwich.

  It was bullshit. Oh no, but you rarely heard the stories from those whose buddies shit their pants and cried for their mothers. No, those were buried under a mat along with the other political fuckups that no one would ever hear. All America wanted to hear about were the heroes. Give us the heroes! The guy who took out a hundred ragheads with one bullet, or survived a landmine and got up with a leg dangling off and soldiered on like a boss. They wanted someone they could pin a Purple Heart on. Someone who could appear on Good Morning America and would say it was an honor to bleed for the red, white, and blue. Please! What a crock of crap. The truth was no one knew how they were going to react until they were out there. No amount of infomercials about being the best you could be, was going to help you man up when the shit hit the fan.

  Real war wasn’t like Rambo, it was more like a street fight without gloves. There were no rules; no easy way through it and it could turn deadly in a heartbeat.

  Shit! I was beginning to sound like my old man. I scoffed thinking about him. Man, he would have loved this. Dax looked over at me with a look of despair.

  “About getting out of this,” Dax started to say.

  “No you don’t, we’re getting out,” I shot back. Right then in that moment I did something I never imagined I would do, I took a hold of his head and pressed it against mine the way our father would.

  “Hoorah!” I said. I didn’t say it as loud as they did but loud enough to make him snap out of his spiral down into pity party for one please.

  Dax looked right back in my eyes. I’m sure he couldn’t believe it himself. His lip curled up. Then like getting an adrenaline shot to his system, his eyes widened.

  “Hoo fuckin’ rah!” And just like that he was back in the game. “Now listen up you pussies, we’re going to lay down some serious heat, while the rest of you slip out the back.”

  “Dax, they’ll have it covered,” Jess replied.

  “So? We either shoot our way out of here, or they’re coming in. Either way there’s a chance we’re dead. So make a choice.”

  She gritted her teeth and nodded affirmatively. It was hard to think when all around us gunfire was erupting furiously. Through the shelving I could see them getting closer. Two of them had crept up past the gas pumps. I noticed they had something in their hands.

  “Flashbang,” I yelled before hitting the ground.

  The others followed suit. My eyes squeezed shut saving me from the flash of blinding light, but not the ringing in my ears. I didn’t wait for them to push forward. I shoved the barrel of my Benelli SuperNova Tactical Pump through the shelving unit and unleashed my load. Baja and Specs took out the two guys who had tossed the flashbang and were trying to retreat like little bitches. I glanced to my side, thinking Ralphie would be curled up in a ball. Instead, he was up, gun in hand and unloading rounds at them.

  “Go,” Dax yelled. I gestured to Baja and Specs to move with Jess, Izzy, and Kat while we continued to rain a torrent of bullets down on them. There was no time to see if they had made it out or even survived. We were in a constant state of battle. I heard gunfire ring out from behind but that was it.

  What happened next occurred fast.

  Three Molotov cocktails shot past us. They must have come up the sides and moved in. The wall behind and floor in front of us exploded in fire and within a matter of minutes the place was engulfed in tongues of fire. Thick black smoke smothered the air. Coughing and choking we crawled our way back into the rear storage area. We had no time to check who was outside or what we were running into.

  Our lungs were gasping for air.

  All I heard was the sound of guns cocking as I hit the floor on my knees. My eyes were burning, snot was coming out of my nose. I looked up for a second and found a cold hard barrel of steel pressed against my face. I shot a sideways glance and saw the others on their knees surrounded by at least forty men.

  I glanced at my watch. We had six hours until pickup.

  TEMPLE SQUARE

  What’s it like being captured by the enemy in wartime? I’m not sure, but I can tell you it must have been a hell of lot better than being snagged by these little gangbanging bitches. I would have given anything to find a volume dial. Their incessant jeering was grinding my hump. I expected their leader Domino to show up but he didn’t. If it hadn’t been for one of them I was certain they would have killed us right there and then, execution style.

  One of them bounced back and forward. “I say we drop these bitches, homie.”

  “You heard what Domino said.”

  “Fuck what he says, they killed our brothers.”


  “I know, little man, and they’ll pay.”

  I tried to look up but one of them pistol-whipped me. I felt warm blood trickle down the side of my face. Droplets hit the floor in front of me. I glanced to my right expecting to see Baja, Specs, and the others but neither of them were there. Jess, Izzy, and Kat were present but not them. Had they killed them?

  “Throw them in the truck and take ’em back.”

  “I’m telling you this is wrong. I say we do them here. Domino won’t know.”

  One of them brought his gun up underneath the chin of the other. “Do I have to tell you again?”

  The other sneered in contempt. “Fernando, Pablo, Emilio.”

  Three younger guys hustled over and yanked us up. They strong-armed us to the back of an armored truck. We were all thrown in together. They didn’t bother tying us, as we didn’t stand a chance with or without restraints. They slammed the metal doors shut. We were instantly engulfed in darkness.

  “You okay?” I asked Jess.

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened to Baja and Specs?”

  “I don’t know. It all happened fast. They were there one minute and gone the next.”

  “Did they shoot them?”

  “Gunfire erupted when we got out the back. It’s possible.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. The thought of them dead weighed heavy on my mind.

  The truck bumped its way down the road. Outside we could hear the occasional sound of gunfire as they shot at Z’s. A few times we jerked back and forward. No doubt they were plowing their way through the dead on their way to Temple Square. Beyond that it was silent in the truck. I don’t think any of us planned for this, or knew what to expect. But I was sure that each of us felt that we weren’t going to come out of this unscathed.

  The truck jerked to a stop. The sound of boots, then the door unlocked.