State of Panic: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (13 page)

BOOK: State of Panic: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller
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RAPID FIRE

I
t was too late
. Two of the older women collapsed under a hail of bullets. Forced back into the house each of us scrambled to take up a position on the ground or upper floor. Murphy was yelling for us to get down. Drywall and glass flew through the air as the skinheads on the outside kept the house under rapid fire.

Down on the ground I saw Ally with her hands on her head. Not a single one of us dared to stand up. From where I stood I could see those who been killed; two older ladies in their mid-fifties, Wayne and McCabe. Another older guy who ran Tony’s Pizza Place in the downtown was in tears. He had his hands over his ears and was yelling.

“I can’t take this. I’ve got to get out.”

Murphy was trying to get him to calm down but he was going to snap any minute. Wild-eyed and shaking like mad he rose to his feet and tried to make a break for the front door. He didn’t even make it four steps when bullets took him down.

All that remained was myself, Brett, Jodi, Corey, Luke, Billy, Ally, Sara, Kiera, Shaw and Murphy.

When the bullets stopped, all that could be seen inside was drywall dust. It looked like someone had taken a huge bag of flour and scattered it all over the place. Our clothes and faces were covered in it. In those few seconds of quiet we assumed they were reloading their weapons. Murphy signaled for Luke, Corey and myself to take the upstairs.

“Position yourselves either side of the windows. Lay down heat from above. Billy, Brett, you head into the kitchen area. Kiera, Ally, Shaw and myself will keep eyes on the front and back doors. Whatever you do, do not let them breach the yard.”

“What about the doors?”

“Don’t worry about that. For now get your ass upstairs.”

Bolting towards the stairs, Luke, Corey and I double-timed it up. The bedrooms were in a better state. The windows were still intact but not for long. Corey went over to the front of the house, while we focused on the back. Either side of the windows we crouched down and waited, then I peered out. It was hard to see what was going on because the forest smothered anyone who was hiding. It was dense and very dark even in daylight.

“Do you see anything?”

“No movement.”

I reached for the handle on the window and popped the latch. I then pushed it open and waited for more gunfire. Luke had a two-way radio in his hand. He pressed it to communicate with the downstairs.

“Murphy, come in.”

“Go ahead.”

Luke looked out. I saw three at eleven o’clock.

“We need to get out of here,” Corey said across from us, just down the hallway.

“Right. Cause that worked for Tony,” I said. “At least here we have a chance.”

“For how long? Those guys are going to tell the rest of their asshole friends and they are all going to show up here.”

“Corey, we are not the only ones alive in this town. Unless they saw all of us, chances are they will think we are just another group of survivors. They will treat us the same.”

“Like?”

“Meaning they will do their job and move on to the next house.”

He let out a laugh. “I don’t like this.”

“Well, I don’t exactly fucking love it but we are in this mess,” Luke said checking his magazine. He cast a glance over to me.

“Just my luck that I ended up with you. Hey Corey, you want to swap positions?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I replied.

“It means I don’t like you, skinhead.”

“Is that what this has come down to?”

“You should be out there with them. At least that way I could put a bullet in your head.”

Even Corey looked perplexed.

“Look, I don’t know what your deal is with me but I think by now you should know I’m not the enemy.”

I peered over to the window and saw one of the skinheads advancing on the back gate. I brought the AR-15 up and was about to take the shot when the guy went down. I looked over to see Luke had taken the shot.

“I had him.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Guys, stop arguing,” I heard Murphy yell up.

“Just like last week, eh, Murph?” Luke hollered back.

Days ago we were in the heart of the wilderness in northern Idaho. Our time was spent hiking, scaling cliff walls and setting up camp. Besides the evenings, we were always in a constant station of motion. Murphy believed that it not only kept us occupied but it was a great way to purge the mind of all the junk, negativity and crap that we lugged around with us. Depending on the day, hell, even the hour, any one of us twelve could have been at each other’s throats for some reason. One guy would sit on his ass and say he wasn’t going to walk another inch, another guy would throw away his food and say he was going to starve himself if they didn’t let him go home, and others would just look for a reason to start a fight.

That was Luke.

I had twisted my ankle coming down into a ravine and Dan asked Luke to carry my backpack. He refused and kicked up a stink. If it was anyone else, he wouldn’t have minded but he wasn’t going to carry no neo-Nazi skinhead’s bag.

Dan like Murphy would try to help each of us to see the commonalities and overlook our differences. He said it was our commonalities that made us strong. My mind drifted back to a week ago.


A
nyone can find
fault in a person, but I would challenge you to see what is good about that person.”

“Good?” Luke replied. “There is nothing good about this guy. He’s a fucking asshole.”

“And what, your not?” Corey had on numerous times come to my defense. I think in some ways Corey felt as though he was like me. Luke was another version of Billy according to Corey. That was someone who couldn’t see their own faults but would spend all day picking on others.

“You don’t want to carry his backpack?” Dan asked.

“No. Why should I?”

“Fine, you don’t have to carry his backpack.”

Luke got this look on his face as though he had won some competition.

“You’ll carry him.”

“What?” he yelled back.

“Put your bag down and pick Sam up. You will carry him until you can come up with three things that are good about him.”

I tried hard to hide my amusement. I was massaging a sore ankle at the time. The others looked equally amused by it.

“Screw that. You can’t make me do that.”

“Then we just sit here until you are ready. Our new supplies are at the next rendezvous point.”

Dan tossed his bag down and sat on top of it.

“Suits me fine,” Luke said. “I needed a rest.”

An entire day passed before Luke started to realize that Dan meant it. We were not going to move until he picked me up and found three good things to say. After twenty-four hours, we were all starting to get hungry. When we reached day two the others offered to carry me.

“No. Luke is going to do it.”

This then led to the others trying to convince him.

“Come on Luke, just do it. Make something up.”

Now most would have done that. They would have swallowed their pride and said three random things even if they didn’t believe them. Not Luke. I began to realize that this wasn’t about getting him to say something good. It was about breaking an internal wall that Luke had erected inside of himself. The very act of picking me up would have meant he had to get close and feel the weight of his own words.

By the time evening rolled around, Luke could tell that if he didn’t do it, the others were going to turn on him. They had already begun to cuss him out and one of them had tossed a water canister at him. They told him he was selfish. As another four hours passed, Luke began looking my way. I could imagine the wheels of his mind churning over. He knew it meant swallowing his pride.

“God, I’m hungry,” Billy said. “Come on, Luke, I swear if you don’t pick him up I am going to…”

“Going to what?” Luke rose to his feet and loomed over Billy trying to intimidate him. “If I do it, I do it for myself. Not because you, Dan or any one of these assholes tell me. I do it because I want new supplies. You hear me?”

Dan smiled and nodded his head. With that Luke came over and bent at the hip.

“Well come on, Frost, get on. I don’t have all day.”

I was tempted to kick him up the ass but instead I hopped on. The funny part was my ankle had started to feel better half a day before that. I didn’t tell Dan, as I wanted to see what Luke was going to say about me. I think all of us were keen to know what words he would summon.

Everyone picked up gear and we hauled ass out of there.

To add insult to injury I decided to hum the tune “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” in his ear for the first five minutes. Billy overheard and started singing the lyrics which only pissed off Luke that much more.

“Come on now. You can put him down as soon as you can come up with three positive things to say about him.”

“This is fucking stupid,” Luke replied.

“Hold up a second,” Dan said walking over and picking up a rock and placing it in Luke’s pocket. Any time he cussed he had to carry another one. He carried me for ten minutes before he started huffing and puffing.

“Okay. Sam, you…”

He searched for the words. But the guy couldn’t find anything good to say about me. It was hilarious. The others didn’t mind because at least we were moving. Maybe not at the speed they wanted but it was better than the way we had spent the past day and a half.

“What was that?” Dan cupped a hand to his ear.

“Look, I can’t think of any,” he dumped me on the ground, “and I’m not carrying him anymore. You can do whatever you like but I’m done.” He slumped down in a heap. “I will carry his backpack but not him.”

Dan crouched down beside him. “Pick him up.”

“No. You can’t make me.”

“Pick him up.”

I stepped in and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Dan, it’s okay, just leave it.”

“No. Pick him up,” he said to Luke in a louder tone. I glanced over to Murphy who was chewing on a piece of beef jerky. He didn’t seem at all bothered by this. Was this some kind of mind game they were playing? We could never tell what they were up to. Since we had arrived at the camp, they had constantly been placing us in situations that made us question their mental state.

“Fuck you, Dan,” Luke replied.

“Okay, fair enough, have it your own way. Everyone else here will take turns carrying Sam.”

“What?”

Protests were blurted out among the others. Everyone gave Luke the look of death.

“Come on, Luke, you do it.”

Luke didn’t say anything; he picked up his bag and strolled on. One by one the others took turns even though I had told Dan I was ready to walk. He wouldn’t let me walk. Ten minutes passed, then an hour and Luke dumped his bag down.

“Okay. Okay. I will carry him.”

This time when he picked me up, within a matter of minutes he said three things about me that he admired. He admired the fact that I hadn’t run away even though I had been bounced from foster home to foster home. According to him, it meant I was resilient. He admired the fact that I had tried to help him when Dan was going off on him even though he had been a jerk to me. He said it meant I had empathy. Finally he said he admired the fact that I hadn’t said one bad thing about him being an emo. Did he mean any of it? Fuck no. Did the experience change him? No. But it got him thinking about the group, about his actions and in some ways I think that was all Dan was trying to do. Make him think about his actions and anyone else but himself.


E
arth to Frost
. Come in, Frost. Why do you keep spacing out?”

Luke glared at me. He clicked his fingers in front of my face.

I peered out. I could still see at least four more skinheads in the trees with AK45s. One of them tried to light a Molotov cocktail and toss it but someone on the ground floor shot him and the thing dropped and set the guy on fire. He was rolling around on the floor while his buddies tried to put him out.

Corey shuffled down the corridor and joined us in the room.

“Dude, what are you doing? Go back to your position.”

“You got a cigarette?”

“You don’t even smoke,” I said.

“This is nerve-wracking. Have you?”

Luke snorted, reached into his pocket and fished one out for him. He lit it and Corey began having a coughing fit. Both of us started laughing. The second that Luke saw me laughing he scowled again. It was as if he didn’t want me to think that he was anything more than some downer guy who covered his face in black shit, grew his hair long and hated skinheads. He certainly didn’t want to be seen laughing with one.

“I’m going to check on Murphy,” Luke said shuffling away. He glanced back at me momentarily and then disappeared down the stairs.

“What’s his deal?” I asked Corey.

“His old man got the shit beaten out of him down at the local bar by a bunch of skinheads.”

“But I thought he didn’t like his old man?”

“He doesn’t but you know how things are. A person says one thing, they think another. That’s why he doesn’t like you.”

“That’s quite a broad brushstroke.”

“We all do it. Look how many people hate on folks like me.”

“So you have a little more weight on you. That’s nothing compared to being seen as a white supremacist.”

“I guess so.” Corey looked out the window and fired a couple of rounds at the tree line.

I hurried over and looked out. “Did you see any?”

“No, but it just lets those fuckers know who’s boss.”

I laughed.

“Anyway. So are you one?”

“One what?”

“A white supremacist?”

“No. That’s like saying every Muslim is a terrorist.”

“That’s a bit extreme,” Corey replied taking another look outside.

“I’m just saying that just because I ran with them it doesn’t mean I believed every word that came out of their mouth. Like that guy, back at the old people’s residence, the one that you caught with Kiera.”

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