Broken worlds super boxs.., p.17
Broken Worlds Super Boxset, page 17
The streets of the city had long been abandoned. The roads were riddled with cracks and potholes. Whatever money the city had generated before the exile wasn’t being used on road repairs.
She glanced at the skyscrapers above, built during a time when water still flowed through the veins of the city, giving it life. Now, most of the building doors were boarded up, and the massive buildings had wilted from the heat. There wasn’t room for giants here.
Most of the city had been migrating east long before the president’s announcement. She knew the population here had dwindled, but she still had yet to see a single soul, which she found odd.
Brooke stepped lightly. She checked behind her, to the side, and in front for anyone that could jump out at her. The hairs on the back of her neck kept sticking up. She had the overwhelming sense that someone was watching her.
A trashcan crashed in the alley next to her. Brooke pulled her gun. The only thing she saw was a cat crawling out from behind the rolling can.
Brooke let out a sigh. Her whole body immediately loosened to jelly, and she holstered her pistol. The cat was small, and she could see the animal’s ribcage. She bent down, trying to coax the animal out.
“Come here. It’s okay,” Brooke said.
The cat growled and hissed. The hair on its back stood straight up, and it backed up beneath the dumpster into hiding. Brooke shrugged it off.
“Well, I was always a dog person anyway,” she said.
Brooke’s knee popped when she stood from her crouched position. Her legs were stiff. She was rubbing her thigh when she heard the rumble of an engine at the alley’s street entrance. The truck never crossed by, but she heard the slam of doors and men’s voices.
Two men appeared at the end of the alley. Brooke tried making out their faces, but the position of the sun cast them in shadows.
“Hello, there,” the man called out.
“Hello,” Brooke said.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Hey, listen, do you know where we can get to the military base from here? We’re on our way to see my cousin who’s a cadet there, and we got turned around.”
Brooke’s hand went to her revolver. She took a few steps forward, looking for any weapons they might have, but she could see both pairs of hands, and they had no visible rifles or pistols on them.
“Are you from around here?” his partner asked.
“The base is north of here,” Brooke answered.
“Thanks. Hey, do you think you could point it out to us on a map? We’ve got our truck with us just around the corner.”
Brooke kept her hand on the revolver. When she was close enough for the two men to see the weapon, both of them put their hands in the air.
“Whoa. Hey, we don’t want any trouble,” the man said.
Both stepped backward. While keeping their hands in the air, they pointed around the corner of the alley. Brooke took her hand off the pistol, and the two men relaxed. They disappeared around the corner, and when Brooke followed them, she saw a red truck caked in sand. The same truck that had chased her through the Mojave.
Brooke reached for the pistol again and fired shots at the two men, who were sprinting to the truck. They grabbed rifles out of the truck bed and fired back. Bullets ricocheted off the building walls as Brooke jumped back into the alley for cover.
She crouched behind the wall, her knees hovering just above the ground. She aimed the pistol around the corner and emptied the revolver’s chamber. The bullets thumped into the side of the truck as both men ducked.
Brooke reached into her pack for more ammo. As she loaded the 9mm bullets into the chamber, she heard the truck engine start up. She sprinted down the alleyway to try and get to the other end. A few of the bullets spilled from her hand as she ran, clinking against the asphalt.
She turned around to see the truck barreling toward her. Brooke aimed the pistol and fired, sending bullets into the windshield. The glass cracked and the truck swerved, slamming into the alley walls, knocking off both side mirrors. Then it crashed into the dumpster, crumpling the truck’s hood.
Smoke filled the alleyway, and Brooke kept the revolver aimed at the truck. Her boots crunched over the small shards of glass from the broken driver-side window as she approached. The driver’s head hung limp, and blood soaked his chest.
The man in the passenger seat moaned. He stirred, but Brooke kept her pistol aimed at him.
“I can’t feel my arm,” he said.
Brooke could feel the small sliver of steel that was the revolver’s trigger. All she had to do was pull. She had killed those Mexican raiders that attacked her. He was no different than them.
“Hey, lady, don’t do this,” he said.
She stepped closer, leaning over the dead driver’s body until the revolver’s barrel was only a few inches from the injured man’s face. Brooke’s heart was racing. The pistol in her hand wavered.
“How many people have asked you not to do it?” Brooke asked.
Brooke pressed the gun’s barrel into the man’s cheek. He shuddered. She pushed harder. He whimpered.
“Don’t do this,” the man said.
Just squeeze. One simple motion. As she jammed the pistol farther into the man’s cheek, spit flew from his mouth as he continued to beg. Then her concentration was broken by the rumble of another engine behind her.
***
One Humvee and four men were all that Eric was able to get approved. One armored vehicle against the potential violence of an entire city. He was less than thrilled.
They put on as much body armor as was allowed and headed into Phoenix to search for supplies and recruits. Eric knew Captain Howard wanted this excursion to act as an olive branch to the people of the city, but he decided against bringing any supplies with him. He wanted to scout the area before opening up a soup kitchen.
Eric had the pleasure of being accompanied by two Marines, an Army Ranger, and a retired Navy SEAL who had headed to Luke AFB the moment he heard the president’s announcement. Despite the odds, he felt confident in the knowledge and experience that surrounded him.
Jim Nabb was the Army Ranger. He was only in his late twenties, but the thick beard used to cover the scars on his face made him look ten years older. He had been sent to the AFB when orders came in for him to assist in “relocation” efforts. That was all the information that was given to him. It wasn’t until he made it to Phoenix and heard the president’s speech that he understood what it meant. While the rest of the base was shipping out, he was in the streets of Phoenix, trying to help citizens who couldn’t help themselves. It was a losing battle.
“Aren’t you hot wearing that fur coat on your face all the time?” Eric asked.
“A little, but I also never have to wear sunscreen. It irritates my sensitive skin,” Jim answered, smiling.
“The ladies won’t let me get rid of mine,” Tuck replied.
Tuck was the former Navy SEAL. In addition to the bristly beard, he had a bit of a gut, which Eric chose not to comment on because of Tuck’s sizeable frame. The man had bear paws for hands and towered well over six-four. It didn’t take Tuck long to put two and two together during the morning of the exile. Once the looting started, the safest place in his mind was the Air Force base. He knew most of the people inside, so it was easy for him to get in.
“Our Marines are pretty quiet back there. How are we feeling, jarheads?” Eric asked.
“Oo-rah, Lieutenant,” they said in unison.
Tuck looked back behind him.
“You don’t have to call him that. Technically, none of us are even in the military right now,” Tuck said.
“He’s right,” Eric said. “You don’t have to go through the formalities of ‘sir’ or ‘Lieutenant.’ ‘God of War’ will do just fine.”
Eric managed to get a smile out of both Marines. They couldn’t have been older than twenty. Still baby faced and fresh out of boot camp, they were itching for some action. At least that’s what they thought they wanted.
“So what’s the plan, God of War?” Tuck asked.
“Our main objective is to search for supplies: food, water, ammo. If we can pull in some recruits to help at the base, that’s a plus,” Eric answered.
“And what happens to the people still here?” Jim asked.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But anyone that fires on us should be considered an enemy. No matter who they are,” Eric said.
It wasn’t an easy thing to ask. All of them had joined the military to protect the citizens of their country. Not fight them.
Eric slowed the Humvee. Everyone turned to him as the engine idled.
“You hear that?” Eric asked.
“Hear what?” Tuck responded.
Eric threw the Humvee into reverse. He kept his head to the left, searching for the source of the noise. Down the alleyway, smoke rose into the sky from a wrecked truck. A woman held a gun to a man’s head. The man was screaming for help.
“What the hell?” Tuck asked.
The three men exited the vehicle and walked slowly toward her. They raised their rifles, and when the woman saw them, she didn’t move her pistol off of the man’s cheek.
“Drop it!” Jim yelled.
“This isn’t any of your business,” she answered.
Eric watched her through the scope of his rifle. She looked familiar. He’d seen that face before.
“I don’t know what he did to you, lady, but put the gun down,” Tuck said.
“She’s crazy! Shoot her!” the man inside the truck yelled.
“Shut up!” the woman screamed.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Eric asked.
The woman’s eyes shifted between the man in the truck, Eric, Tuck, and Jim. Eric could see that her finger was still on the trigger.
“Hey,” Eric repeated.
This time the woman looked right at him.
“He’s not worth it,” Eric said.
The woman slowly moved the pistol from the man’s cheek. Her finger slid off the trigger. Finally, she lowered the revolver. Eric relaxed. Then, the moment the woman turned her head away from the man in the truck, the man reached his right arm across his body and grabbed her arm. He yanked her forward, slamming her head into the edge of the truck’s roof.
A shot rang out and pierced the windshield. The bullet flew through the man’s chest, and the woman collapsed to the ground. Eric looked over to see the smoke from Jim’s barrel rising into the air.
Chapter 11
Eric’s brief foray into recruitment hadn’t gone as well as he had planned. You could hardly call bringing back an unconscious woman, who they dropped off at the hospital, a success.
“Do you need any attention, Lieutenant?” the nurse asked.
“Woman, I would rather die than go into your care again.”
Eric walked back outside, where Jim and Tuck waited for him.
“How’s she doing?” Jim asked.
“They’re patching her up now. I guess we’ll know in a little bit,” Eric answered.
“Oh, here,” Tuck said, handing Eric a wallet. “I found it in the woman’s pack.”
Eric flipped open the wallet. He almost dropped it when he read the name.
“Holy shit.”
***
Brooke’s face felt like an elephant was sitting on it. She could only squint through her right eye, and the room kept spinning. She moved her arm, and she could feel a plastic tube tugging back at her. She looked up at the IV and started to get a feel for her surroundings. Then she started to panic, and the machine monitoring her heart rate beeped loudly.
“Whoa, hold on. You’re okay,” Eric said.
“Where am I?” Brooke asked.
“You’re at Luke Air Force Base in Phoenix, Brooke,” Eric said.
“How do you know my name?”
“It’s me, Eric.”
It took a few moments for Brooke to make the connection.
“Scratch?”
“I actually spent a long time trying to get rid of that nickname, so if you could keep it to yourself, I’d appreciate it.”
“How? What are you doing here?”
“When the president made the announcement about exiling the Southwest, I was given orders to abandon San Diego. I stayed behind and went looking for you, but you were already gone.”
Brooke’s mind flooded back to what had put her in the hospital. Her heart rate spiked again, and she gripped the bed railings next to her. My kids. The pain from her face dissipated, and she
started yanking the tubes out of her arm.
“Um, I wouldn’t do that. The nurse is pretty strict about procedures,” Eric said.
“I have to get out of here,” Brooke said.
“Really though, the nurse is a Nazi. She’ll drug you.”
“I have to get my children,” Brooke said, ripping the sheets off the bed.
“Make sure you tie the back on that gown. They’re pretty flimsy,” Eric said, rushing after her.
Brooke made it into the hallway before Eric finally grabbed her wrist, but Brooke yanked it out of his grip.
“Let me go!” Brooke shouted.
Eric held up his hands in defeat.
“Look. I know you’re freaking out right now. I get it. But you’re in no condition to go running back out into the city. Tell me where your kids are. I can help,” Eric said.
Brooke looked him up and down through her one good eye. The burst of adrenaline that had propelled her out of bed faded.
“They’re south of the city off Exit 22,” Brooke said.
“What are their names?” Eric asked.
“John and Emily.”
Brooke’s eyes wetted. Eric walked over to her and put his arms around her. She didn’t protest. A few silent sobs escaped as the events of the past few hours washed over her.
***
The wrecker rumbled along Highway 85. When Brooke told Eric about the cruiser’s condition, he thought they might be able to get it working again, so he chose a tow truck over the Humvee, which Tuck and Jim didn’t like. Brooke had pestered to come with, but the nurse laid the smackdown.
Eric pulled the picture that Brooke gave her from his pocket. The photo had been taken two years ago, when Jason was still alive.
“So you served with that woman’s husband?” Tuck asked.
“He saved my life,” Eric said.
“How’d it happen?” Jim asked.
“We were doing building checks with a group of Marines in Iraq. The brass wanted to have ten blocks done before sunset. We were just moving too fast. There was a guy watching from across the street that our snipers didn’t pick up. He sprinted inside with a bomb strapped to his chest. Jason pulled me out. He died in surgery.”
“I’m sorry,” Jim said.
“Bring back any souvenirs?” Tuck asked.
“Four pieces of shrapnel in my abdomen. Took out twenty feet of intestines.”
“Well, at least you shit quicker,” Tuck said.
“Thanks for the silver lining,” Eric said.
Eric pulled off on Exit 22 and shifted gears. The wrecker rolled down the road, and the warning shot Brooke told Eric to expect halfway down the street arrived on queue. Eric parked the vehicle and stepped out, hands in the air, and looked to the strip mall where the shot had
originated.
“I’m here for Brooke Fontanne’s kids,” Eric called out.
A man popped his head out from one of the store fronts and kept his rifle aimed at Eric. Both Tuck and Jim exited the vehicle, their hands in the air and their rifles hanging from their shoulders.
“Where’s Brooke?” he shouted without lowering his rifle.
“She’s in the hospital at Luke Air Force Base. She got banged up a little bit, but she’s all right. Are you Brent?”
He nodded, and three other men appeared from buildings, and they circled Eric, Jim, and Tuck.
“You have any proof that you know Brooke, aside from her children being here?” Brent asked.
“I do, but it’s only for the kids’ ears,” Eric said.
Brooke had given Eric a safe word that she and Emily had used in case Brooke ever needed to have someone other than herself come and pick Emily up. If Emily didn’t recognize the person, she would ask for the safe word. If the stranger knew the safe word, she’d know the person was okay.
