Legend of Mace (20 page)

As Dawson stared at Mace, she had the distinct feeling she’d seen him before. His size and mannerisms looked eerily familiar. Acknowledgement suddenly crossed her face. “Goddamn,” she said out loud. “He’s the fucking asshole!”

Chelsea was pissed. Pacing back and forth in the barn, she couldn’t calm down. “Did you see what they did to my mother?!”

“I know,” Kelly said angrily. “And they’ll pay for it. They have to!”

Maya stood silently next to Kelly, staring out into oblivion. All she could see was Miles' face the moment the flames shot up. “Did you see what happened to Miles,” she asked quietly as the scene repeated over and over in her head. She felt cursed. Everyone she loved died: First her parents, then Jacqueline, then Alexi, and now Miles.

Chelsea stopped pacing and her face drooped. A second later she went to Maya and wrapped her arms tightly around her. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “I know. I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry. Poor Dolphin, too.”

Maya always thought she’d end up with Miles. She and Chelsea talked about it often. As Chelsea hugged her, the anger quadrupled inside her. She pulled away. “We need to go after them,” Chelsea said louder. “They’re on the run. We need to finish this.”

“Plaguer shitballs,” Kelly uttered bitterly. “Let’s go convince Woody and Roger.”

“I want to kill them.” Maya said, barely above a whisper. Her eyes looked blank and cold as she roughly wiped away a few tears.

Roger and Tom were back on the roof of the hotel. Watching the rear of the compound through the sniper scope, the dust cloud seemed to shift to the right. Roger yelled, “It looks like they might be leaving!”

“Thank God,” Tom said in relief as he turned to watch from his side of the roof. “I was sure they were coming back for more,” he said loudly. “I’m really scared for Lisa.”

“Don’t count on it being over yet. It may just be a diversion.”

JB stayed silent from his corner, keeping watch over the perimeter.

The roof door opened and Woody walked out. “JB,” he said, pointing towards the Ranger, “I want you on a search and destroy. Head out now. We’ve got a posse ready to go.”

Roger stayed silent, remaining where he was as Woody approached. JB immediately took off down the stairs.

“We’re going after them,” Woody said as he walked up. Tom pushed himself off the ground and moved over to listen.

“The girls are right,” Woody said, a bit excitedly. “We’ve got them on the run. We need to finish them off.”

Roger thought it over and looked uncomfortable. “I think it’s a bad move,” he said in all seriousness. He pointed towards the moving dust cloud and said, “Right now they’re shifting to the right. They might just be leaving. If it’s not a ploy, we should just let them.” He nodded his head towards the front of the roof. “That first group is still out there. We don’t want to leave ourselves exposed.”

“We're gonna leave half to protect this side. The other half is going to end that threat.” Woody’s mind was already made up.

Roger wasn’t done arguing yet. “But if you leave us without JB, we can’t move off this roof. We don’t know where the mines are.”

Woody produced a map from his back pocket he'd brought specifically for them. “The rooms without the mines are marked. Watch for the mines marked in the stairwells.”

“Are you kidding me?” Roger asked, clearly perturbed. “If it comes to the point where we need to move quickly, we’re not going to have time to look at a map.” He took the map from Woody and tossed it on the ground. “We’re the last line of defense before the compound. You’re thinking with your emotions and not with your head. You don’t want to separate this group.”

“Check the map,” Woody said, ignoring his argument. He started backing away. “We’ve got a rocket launcher stashed on the floor beneath us. Room 2212. Right inside the stairs. If it comes to that, use it. It will buy you some time.”

“What?” Roger asked, although he should have known better than to be surprised by any hidden firepower.

“There’s only two shells, so use them wisely, and only if you need to.” Woody turned and quickly disappeared down the stairwell.

“What the hell?” Tom asked as he walked up. “What else do they have?”

“Honestly?” answered Roger. “I know where they’ve got a flamethrower and an ambulance loaded with explosives hidden outside the compound. They’re about as prepared as anyone for an attack.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Because I’m not spending all my time screwing my brains out. You might want to be a part of this camp for a change." Roger showed his annoyance with his friend for the first time. “At first I thought you getting laid might help keep us alive, but right now you’re not even an asset. You're stoned all the time.” Looking at his friend for a second, Roger softened a little. “Sorry. I just don’t want to see this camp fall. There is promise here. Once all the bloodshed ends, there is promise here. I see it.”

“If we’re all still alive at the end of it.”

“Well yeah, there’s that.”

Dawson recognized Mace despite his lack of facial hair. The second she made the connection, she brought her handgun up and fired two shots. One whizzed by his ear while the second one smacked into the bottom right corner of his vest. She stood no more than twenty feet away.

Mace took a few steps back from the surprise of the impact. The vest did its job under his jacket but it still hurt like hell. He was instantly furious.

“Mother fuck!” he yelled at her as he brought his own gun up and took four shots in quick succession. The first bullet tore through her left implant and struck another biker in the hip. She toppled back and fell over as the other bullets whizzed by her. “No!!” she screamed, looking in horror at her destroyed boob. The biker behind her writhed in pain from the gunshot wound.

The bikers' weapons instantly came out and began firing as Mace dove behind the bushes for some type of cover. He felt another two hits in the back of the vest. His jeans got clipped down by his ankle as he rolled over and tried to scramble away.

An arrow suddenly flew out from somewhere behind him and punched deeply into the gut of the closest biker. The biker clutched his stomach and tumbled over right before a second arrow plowed into another’s chest. That one fell backwards and the bikers all started diving for cover.

Mace jumped to his feet, firing behind him as he ran. He headed straight for the church rectory as Bowie waved him on. Bullets kicked dirt up around him and he felt another bullet smack into the back of his vest as he dove through the door. Bowie slammed it shut as bullets pinged against it.

“Follow me!” Bowie yelled as he headed straight for the window that Crockett had come through. They jumped out as the rectory door splintered apart, and they ran directly towards the compound through the Riverwalk.

“We can’t let them see us!” Bowie said breathlessly as he ran.

Mace responded soberly, trying to think of a plan. “They’re gonna find us anyway.”

Hearing the motorcycle engines fire up in the distance, Mace knew they wouldn’t make it back if they were spotted.

From on top of the hotel, Roger spotted Mace and Bowie running down the Riverwalk through the sniper scope. They were still over a mile away. “Shit,” he said as they disappeared behind a building and he tried to zero in on them again.

“What?” yelled Tom from the other side of the roof.

“It’s Mace and Bowie. They’re running like hell. Something’s gotta be chasing them.” He paused for a moment then said, “I don’t think we should have split up.”

Tom nervously pointed towards the rocket launcher they’d hauled to the roof. “We’ve still got this thing.”

Taking his eye off the scope, Roger looked down and felt his skin get clammy. “I don’t even know how to use it.” Putting his eye back on the scope, he searched until he found Mace and Bowie again. “They’re running flat out,” he said seriously. “They’re being chased. They gotta be.”

He moved the scope behind them, but nothing appeared. He grabbed the Walkie-Talkie. “Roof to base. Prepare for trouble at North gate. Be on high alert.”

“Roger that,” Woody replied. “We’ve got ten on the wall.”

“Shit,” Roger said again as he put the Walkie-Talkie down. “We shouldn’t have split up.”

Crockett led the posse that now chased down the second group of retreating Plaguers. Riding on the back of his dirtbike, Kelly held on tight. Not knowing how to ride, she jumped behind him as soon as he fired it up. He didn’t have time to argue, and a part of him was flattered that she trusted him enough.

Riding side-by-side behind them, Chelsea and Maya were still pissed. Angry and focused, they couldn't wait to catch up to the Plaguers and exact revenge. For the briefest moment, Herman peeked his head up from behind Chelsea's shoulder before dipping back down as the wind hit him.

Back at camp, six guards nervously kept watch around the walls of the compound. Inside the infirmary, Melissa tended to Jason and Shawn as Lisa moaned in discomfort. Jade clutched the sniper rifle on the Chapel roof, continuously scanning the area.

The dirtbikes squealed as they caught up to the retreating group of infected. 
The Plaguers grew furious as the bikes pulled up and immediately charged towards the kids. There were less than twenty left.

Crockett stopped his bike as they approached. Kelly jumped off and hurled a grenade at them as the rest of  their group opened fire.
Screaming in defiance as the bullets found their marks, the Plaguers still struggled to move forward, rabid with blood-lust.

Crockett suddenly caught a glimpse of the AT-4 anti-tank missile as it shot off the roof of the building by their compound. Turning his head, he watched a fireball ignite in the distance from the impact. “We need to get back!” he yelled. The Plaguers that weren't killed instantly were dying or badly wounded. As the kids raced back towards the compound, the dying Plaguers crawled after them. Several made it close to two miles, operating on pure obsession before finally succumbing to their injuries.

Roger cursed himself for firing the shell. He didn’t know what he was doing. The shell flew wide right and exploded in a debris pile far short of the target. His nerves got the better of him as the bikes pursuing Mace and Bowie drew swiftly closer. Now there was only one shell left.

Running at a full sprint, Mace and Bowie still had a quarter-mile to go. Without backup, Mace tried to concoct some type of plan. Despite their conditioning, fatigue started to set in.

Catching Mace off guard, Roger’s shell exploded over 500 feet in front and to the left of them. Peering up at the roof of the hotel, Mace didn’t feel any comfort. They’d just wasted one of their only two shells. He glared as he ran.

“Run,” he suddenly said to Bowie, “and don’t stop until you reach the hotel. I’m going to slow them down.”

Looking at him crazily, Bowie didn’t argue as he continued to sprint. Mace still had the M-16 draped over his shoulder. Covered in sweat, he was finished running.

Mace turned around and waited. Each second increased his agitation. As soon as Razor appeared at the front of the pack he squeezed the trigger. Automatic gunfire ripped through the air as bikers zoomed towards him. Bullets whizzed all around Razor, and several plunks on his bike’s metal frame made him immediately shift his weight to the right and pull away from the gunfire. He diverted his path towards that of the hotel and rocket launcher. Two bikers followed him as Mace sprayed bullets at the line of bikes that fast approached.

Several bikes went down, causing others to fall behind them. Mace knew instinctively they wouldn’t stop. They would never stop.

A biker revved his throttle and shot towards him in an attempt to run him down. Mace stood his ground and fired the M-16 repeatedly. Bullets tore into the motorcycle and then up into the biker’s torso and head.

Mace dove as the bike plowed inches away from him, its dead driver still gripping the handles. Making impact with the ground, Mace immediately scrambled back to his feet to face the approaching gang.

Several Harleys blew by him, their engines loud and close as they zoomed by at high rates of speed. Forced to dive out of the way of another throttled engine, Mace lost his grip on the M-16’s trigger as he hit the ground. As a third Harley swerved within inches of him, he shoved the barrel of the weapon directly into the front spokes of the tire.

The gun ripped out of Mace’s hands, slicing his right palm open as the Harley’s rear tire immediately flew up off the ground, sending the bike reeling in a series of somersaults. It slammed repeatedly to the ground as it flipped, crushing the biker under its weight. The others instantly split away from the accident, giving Mace a momentary reprieve from the threat of being run over.

He threw off his jacket and pulled out his handgun, firing at any bikes that came close. The pistol grip felt slippery with blood, and he knew he needed to bandage his hand. The bikers who'd already passed him slowed down, ready to turn around and come back to finish him off.

Bowie reached the hotel and sprinted up the stairs, gasping for air as he raced towards the roof. He wanted control of the shoulder-fired missile before they wasted their last shell. He paused on the third floor, completely spent and fighting for breath. He looked up at the never ending flight of stairs. “Fuck me,” he said in exhaustion. “I need a vacation,” he said, repeating Lisa’s earlier words.

He started ascending again, pulling himself along the railing as he forced his legs to push and climb.

Dawson was thoroughly pissed. Bringing up the rear of the gang, she wanted to rip Mace’s face off. “You know how much I paid for these fucking tits?” she yelled rabidly into the air. As she sped to catch up, she gritted her teeth in pain. She was now a freak. Her days of plastic surgery were over, and she felt crazy with vengeance.