State of Panic: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (7 page)

S
ociety had stepped
over an invisible line. I couldn’t imagine every skinhead wanted to kill but people were people and they would embrace the mob mindset. When two or more were out of control it didn’t take long for others to do the same. And now that the world was experiencing a blackout, the infrastructure of law and order had collapsed and the grid was down, the rules of how other humans treated others would soon go out the window, at least for the white supremacists who were assaulting anyone. They knew people wouldn’t just give up generators, food or other resources. They knew that people would defend themselves. That’s why they were attacking first. No questions, no requests, just brute force tactics.

It was militant in its own way. That’s why we were referred to as foot soldiers. We were the ones that would go out and do the dirty work and get our hands bloody. I had never attended a skinhead rally; neither had I met those higher up in the organization, if it could even be called that. My exposure to the neo-Nazi group amounted to a small-town experience and back then law and order kept them in line. They knew their boundaries and they operated within them so as to never attract unwanted attention.

I understood that Luke and the others must have thought I had seen this coming but I hadn’t. At monthly meetings, the topic of discussion centered on recruitment. Talk of how they would take back America occurred over beers. They were just words of drunken men. I had no clue that the organization was in possession of weapons of mass destruction. The very notion seemed ludicrous. How did they obtain them? I’d heard about the Cold War, spies that entered America smuggling in suitcase nukes and 84 that had gone missing. I’d read the news articles about the feds and CIA searching for them but there was no indication that the white supremacists had them. They had kept this under tight wraps. It would have been something that would have only been discussed with higher-ups. And for good reason. They didn’t want to risk having anyone letting the cat out of the bag.

We retraced our steps, though this time giving a wide berth to the library. Murphy was certain that because a few survived, they would have returned to the group and no doubt that was the reason why they were banging on doors where windows were dark. Initially there wouldn’t have been a need to go house to house. Supplies could be gathered from the local stores, but eventually they would have to turn their focus to homes and factories in the area.

The decision to not turn onto Pine Street but continue on Front and turn down Cedar meant we would be getting dangerously close to Main Street. It was a risk that had to be taken. The only thing we had working in our advantage was that it was a moonless night. The sky was a blanket of darkness shrouding us as we skimmed along the sides of buildings.

We had made it to the intersection of Fifth and Cedar when Murphy stopped. We continued to move past him thinking he was just watching our back but that wasn’t the case. He stepped off the curb.

“Kate?”

“Hey, hold up,” I said to the others. “Murphy,” I said in a half whisper.

“They’ve got Kate.”

I ran up to join him. Peering around the corner towards Main Street which was lit up like a Mexican fiesta. A large rowdy crowd was pushing forward five police officers. One of them was Officer Kate Shaw.

“It’s too late,” I muttered, trying to motion for us to go.

“I’m not letting them kill her.”

“There’s nothing we can do, Murphy. There’s too many of them. And if we continue to stand out here, we are going to be screwed ourselves.”

“He’s right, Murphy,” Luke added.

“Go then. I’m staying. I’m not going to…” he trailed off looking at the large crowd that were riled up and preparing for a public execution. My eyes scanned the surrounding area. I was certain that at any minute another cluster of those fuckwits would show up and we’d have to engage with them. I sighed and ran a hand over my head.

“What do you want to do?”

He must have realized the predicament they were in. Had this been Iraq, no doubt more troops would have been sent in to help but there was no one else. No one was skilled to handle this kind of situation. Heck, even a riot squad would have had trouble pushing back this group. They were pumped up on liquid courage and fueling the fire in each other. With a community terrified, the police department dead or on their way to be executed, they must have seen this as a victory.

Murphy turned to say something when a loud boom rang out and he stumbled forward onto me. Behind him, further down the street, were some of the guys that we had ran into at the library. They were now charging towards us. Luke and Edgar didn’t hesitate, they returned fire immediately, which slowed them up and made them dive for cover. In the dark I couldn’t tell how bad Murphy had been shot, just that he got back up and told us to head east down Cedar.

Murphy slumped one arm over my shoulder and I started taking him down the street while the other two kept firing. Bullets were pinging off metal and ricocheting off concrete. A chunk of concrete hit me in the side of the face. Pain coursed through my body.

“Split up.”

“Screw that.”

“Just listen to me. You’ve got the other two-way radio. Go!”

I was still carrying a rifle in one hand and my arm was looped around his waist to support him.

“I’ll take him,” Edgar said rushing over. They darted across the road while Luke and I provided cover. I raced down an alley, and Luke did the same. Within a matter of minutes we were off the main stretch. In between the buildings it was even darker. My eyes scanned for anywhere I could hide. Upon reaching a chain-link fence, I slid the gun case beneath it then scrambled over. With a Glock in my hand, my heart was pounding against my chest. All I could think about was getting caught and having my face smashed in with a hammer. Fear permeated and caused sweat to drench my shirt. As I dropped to the other side I heard a couple of skinheads coming down the alley. Their boots pounded against the asphalt. Had they seen me? I hurried across the gravel and ducked behind a large green dumpster. The stench coming from it was putrid but that was the least of my concerns. My pulse sent blood rushing to my head and I felt a wave of dizziness. I pressed my back firmly against the dumpster trying to stay out of view while I cast a glance to my left and right. The only thing between them and me was the dumpster and fence. If they decided to jump over, I was going to be in a fight for my life.

I willed my breath to slow. The thought of them hearing the radio made me tremble.

They rushed by and I breathed out a sigh of relief. I pulled the backpack off my shoulder and fished around for the radio. I waited for a minute or two before I tried to contact them.

“Guys? Come in,” I muttered in a hushed voice. There was no answer. All the while my eyes were focused ahead. It was the first time I was actually grateful for the blackout. If the power weren’t out, this place would have been lit up like a Christmas tree with security lights. As it was, it was like being inside a dark room with a few pinpricks of light from the night sky.

“Murphy?”

I turned up the volume ever so slightly, then wondered if they were in the same predicament as me. Was I giving away their location? I was listening so intently for a reply from them that when the sound of boots hit the dumpster behind me a cold shaft of fear shot through me. Laughter broke out as I looked up. Above me, standing on the dumpster looking down was a skinhead.

“Boo!” he said then broke into laughter. As I scrambled to my feet with the Glock in my hand and began backing away I didn’t see the other one come up behind me. He rushed and hit me so hard in the center of the back I didn’t know if it was his knee or boot. I slammed against the ground and the Glock flew out of my hand and slid a few feet away.

I scrambled for it but one of them stood on my fingers.

“It’s the turncoat.”

The guy crouched down in front of me, then looked at his buddy. “I hate a lot of things,” he then began reeling off his racist remarks. “But there is nothing more that grinds my hump than a turncoat. What about you, Steve?”

“Fucking hate ’em.”

With that said he yanked me up and slammed me against the dumpster and began laying into me, while the other one laughed. All my attempts at shielding the beating only riled him up even more.

“Get your fucking hands out of the way.”

I attempted to fight back but his buddy stepped in to take over. A second later I was spitting blood on the asphalt. Breathing hard and looking ahead I didn’t see the kick come in from the side. There was no time to brace for it. I sucked in air and then felt the sole of his boot come down twice on my back as if he was trying to crush my spine. As I was slumped there, one of them went over and picked up the Glock.

“Nice piece, I think I’ll take that.” He tucked it into his waistband. I pushed myself up and leaned back against the dumpster. “They are going to fucking love you when we take you back.”

Call it pent-up rage or just an adrenaline rush but as he came back to give me another pounding, I reacted.

He grabbed the back of my collar and I came up with a swift uppercut that took him off balance. I charged him and grabbed the handle of the Glock from the front of his pants but instead of yanking it out I pulled the trigger. The bullet shot through his leg as I collapsed on top of him. His scream was deafening. In that split second I was in survival mode. There was no time to pull the gun out as the other guy came at me. Before he got within two feet, another gunshot went off and the guy dropped. Still on the skinhead who was squirming beneath me in agony, I saw Luke out the corner of my eye. He’d hopped over the fence. I stumbled back to catch my breath when the second round was fired. Luke loomed over him with the gun still pointed at his head. He had killed both of them. I could see that his hand was shaking.

“You okay?”

I spit blood on the floor, then nodded. “Not exactly.”

Everything seemed surreal in that moment. I don’t know what I expected to see in his face. Remorse perhaps? Guilt? God, he’d just killed two people.

He motioned with his head. “Go up. Murphy and Edgar are on the roof across from here. You still got the radio?”

“Yeah,” I replied. With that he turned and dashed off into the darkness leaving me beside two dead bodies. I stared at one. He couldn’t have been more than nineteen years of age. I felt my stomach churn within me and I flipped over and vomited. I wiped my lips with the back of my arm and then staggered to my feet. I removed the gun from the dead guy’s waistband, moved quickly over to the rifle case and grabbed it up. I headed in the direction of where Luke had gone. He whistled from a building one block down, then pointed to a black fire escape that went up the side of a four-story building. I juggled the rifle case in one hand and began making my way up. Once I heaved it over the top, I slumped down and took a moment to get my bearings. All over the city the sound of gunshots resounded. The community was fighting back. Maybe we weren’t alone. Whether we would win was to be seen.

“Sam, you there?”

Murphy’s voice came from the two-way. I pressed the button, cleared my throat. “Go ahead.”

“You okay?”

What was it with everyone asking me that? No, I fucking wasn’t okay. I had been shot at, slapped around and had witnessed people murdered in front of me. I was far from okay.

“How’s the bleeding?” I asked.

“It’s under control.”

I had images of him stuffing dirt into the hole or a piece of cloth. These military guys were badass and they knew all manner of ways to stop bleeding. Gunfire echoed in the darkness.

“Do you have a bead on Kate?”

“A bead?”

He replied sounding frustrated. “Can you see her?”

I got up and went over to the edge, while trying to remain low. I was at the top of a building that was on the corner of Cedar and Fourth. I could see Main Street and the angry mob. Cars were on fire; black smoke swirled up and vanished in the blackness of night.

“Take out the rifle, use the scope.”

I went back to the case and lugged it over. I unclipped the side and flipped it open. It smelled like fresh leather. The rifle had some weight to it when I took it out.

“Do you have it?”

I pressed the button. “I got it.”

“Tell me what you see.”

I rested the rifle on the edge of the building and peered through the scope. I adjusted it slightly and then tilted it down. Lots of heads, fists, and angry faces. I swept back and forth until I came to rest on the officers who were on their knees.

“I see her.”

“Keep your eyes on the guy walking back and forth in front of them.”

I couldn’t hear what was being said.

Drifting up was just pure noise, music blaring and skinheads cheering and pumping the air with fists. Several of them were firing off rounds as if already celebrating.

“My arm is fucked so I’m going to need you to take the shot.”

“What?”

“You are going to have to take the shot otherwise she is going to die.”

I peered again through the scope and spotted a handgun in the hand of the man who was walking up and down.

“Why not Edgar or Luke?”

“There’s not time for questions. The other two are positioned on different roofs. When you fire, they will fire too, they aren’t going to know who took the shot. That should give you enough time to get down. After you get back to City Hall, distribute the weapons. We are going to need the additional help.”

In my backpack were several handguns. Inside the case was a rifle and a Benelli M4 Tactical shotgun.

“Why don’t you…”

“My arm is shot, Sam. You’re the one carrying the rifle. I’ve got my M4 Carbine. That will keep them at bay for a while.”

“And the others?”

“They have AR-15’s, they should be okay.”

None of this was sinking in. It was like being thrown in at the deep end. There was no easing into any of this.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Murphy interjected. “Sam, this is not the time to back away.”