Thunder and Acid: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Page 6

  “By killing civilians, sir?” Caleb pressed, even knowing that he was treading on dangerous ground. “There has to be another way.”

  General Thomas put a hand on his shoulder. “There is. But between us and that path, are obstructions. Remove those, and we can change position and bring safety and civility back to these people. We’re building a new nation here, Machert. The kind of place where Lana and Elizabeth will be safe. Protected. A land of plenty—of clarity, and purity of purpose.”

  He held out his free hand as if he were waving it over a horizon. “Once that wheat is sown, we can harvest it. But before we can even begin planting, the field must burn. Too much of the old is still poisoning this land. This individualistic, self-serving culture that we allowed to grow in our country is going to be the end of us if we don’t. Anything we try to grow from that soil is going to be poisoned in the same way. It’s time for a new future, Machert. Are you and your family going to be a part of it?”

  Unspoken was the other half of that question. Are you going to be a part of it, or not?

  Caleb heard the silent part loud and clear. There was only one possible answer to give. “Of course we will, sir. You can count on me.”

  “I know I can.” He squeezed Caleb’s shoulder and then withdrew, returning to his desk. “Let supply know what you need to get these units working and secure. Commercial grade, as tight as you can get it, for now. I’ll have the units delivered to engineering within the hour. The sooner the better, Staff Sergeant. We’re losing ground every day we’re not gaining it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Dismissed.”

  Caleb saluted and left, his mind racing as he made his way to the engineering station. Military-grade security on the radio units would take time. That was good. He needed to buy as much time as he could.

  No matter what he told the general, there was no way that he or his family could take part in the wholesale slaughter of civilians, or even let it happen. He might not have sabotaged a unit before, but he might have to, now.

  He could rig the radios to fail, maybe, or… implement the encryption incompletely—nothing too obvious, but enough for anyone coming this direction to pick up on minimal chatter. The last thing he wanted was for soldiers who were just following orders to die. Some of them were good men; a lot of them were. He had to find a way to split the difference.

  If he didn’t, hundreds of people just trying to survive were going to die because of him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LERLAINE

  Bartow Hill Road, Lansing, NC

  Thursday, June 17th, 4:52 pm EST

  Crunch. Crunch-crunch. Maddox lifted a sticky hand up to Lerlaine, nudging a Cheerio toward her mouth.

  “No, baby.” Lerlaine forced a smile. “Mama’s fine.” She didn’t tell him this was the next-to-last box or explain how the dread coiling in her stomach made her nauseous and dizzy.

  She ran a hand over his soft hair and down his back, her palm registering every bump of vertebrae in his spine. He squatted on the bed beside her, picking one bite of cereal at a time from his hand to first examine and then eat.

  Hunter slept beside her, tucked against her hip after she finally managed to breastfeed him again. It had taken a few days of regular meals to make milk consistently, and she’d worried it had been too long until finally, she felt the swelling pressure and nearly broke down from relief. Ray, of course, hadn’t stocked any formula.

  But her children were fed. She was fed.

  She reached up and fingered the tender bruise on her cheek. She’d asked Ray if they could drive down to Jackson, check the grocery store there for formula. Even one can would help supplement, at least, until she was back to full strength.

  “Already been there,” he’d told her.

  “Did you look for formula, though?”

  A reasonable question. They weren’t living there anymore. Ray wouldn’t think to look.

  But he hadn’t seen it that way. Just like before, she felt his anger before she saw it. It rippled through him invisibly, quieting the kitchen, filling the air with electric tension pricking her skin.

  “No, Lerlaine.” His voice remained soft and deadly. “I didn’t look for formula, but you’re not the only whore in the valley who got herself knocked up, you stupid f—”

  The rest had been lost in the strange fog she always slipped into right before it happened. She never remembered the middle, and sometimes not even the end. Just the beginning. And the reminders that stuck with her for days or even weeks afterward. The bruises, the sore throat, worse.

  She pulled her fingers away from the purpling skin and closed her eyes. From the living room, one of Ray’s buddies raised his voice and drew her attention. She leaned over to catch a glimpse through the open door.

  “There’s just the four patrols, Henley, don’t be a wimp!” Ryder, a compact bear of a man who’d known Ray since they were kids, accented his statement with a string of choice curse words.

  Henley. Lerlaine thought back. Last time she’d heard his name, a prison sentence had been attached. Drugs, was it? Robbery?

  Six other men crammed into the living room, amplifying the stench of body odor and stale dip juice to the point it soured Lerlaine’s stomach. Nine men in total. She didn’t know all of them, but based on their familiarity with the place, she guessed they were neighbors, men holed up in the hills like Ray.

  She strained to hear, ears sharpened by the word patrols. Patrols of what?

  “Jake said he thinks there’s four.” Henley tipped the chair he’d dragged in from the dining room back and added a few curse words for emphasis. “Can’t nobody get close ‘nough t’be sure. Folks go up there and don’t come back, these ain’t some redneck crackheads, you dumb SOB. They’re some kinda military pricks with M4s. I’m tellin’ ya, they execute anybody that gets close.”

  Ray barked out a curse. “I ain’t scared by some boys sportin’ military rifles. We got guns, too. Look,” Ray leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Jake says these pretty boys come by the ridge twice a day. So I’m thinkin’ we set up right there on the hillside and pick ‘em off one-by-one.”

  “Then what?”

  Ray smiled and flecks of dip coated his teeth. “We grab all their gear, then hit the next patrol that comes lookin’.”

  Lerlaine pulled her sleeves down to cover her knuckles. For the last two days, Ray had been non-stop about this compound, some military fort up on the mountain. Claimed it was full of food and weapons and all sorts of supplies.

  “Jake’s no dummy.” A man Lerlaine didn’t know waved in the direction of the mountain, bushy mustache twitching as he spoke. “If he says nobody comes back alive, then it ain’t worth it, no matter how much they got holed up in there.”

  Ray argued some more, minimizing the risk between slugs of beer. Lerlaine swallowed down the acid inching up her throat. Ray wanted to ambush the military? He was drunk, sure, but being drunk didn’t usually make him that reckless.

  “They got radios and comm crap, Ray,” someone said. “Even if we take out one patrol, the other three are gonna hear about it, or hear the shots. We can’t do ‘em one at a time.”

  “Then we go round up Cutter and Scoot.” Ray pointed at each man as he counted. “That’ll give us four groups of… well, three groups of three and one group of two. Where’s Meatball? He still here or did he run off like a sissy the first sign of trouble?”

  “Meat died,” someone reported. “Got hit by one of them rocks at his camp up by the creek. Place got flattened. Burned. Probably buried under a hundred trees and ash.”

  Ray blew out a curse. “To Meatball.” He raised his beer and drank.

  “To Meatball,” the others replied.

  “Doesn’t change anything.” Ray nodded at a man Lerlaine couldn’t see. “Me and Jake’ll make a group of two.” He pointed at the map spread across the coffee table. “Post up here, either side of this one. They’re what, six a piece?”

  “One of ‘em has eight,” Jake said. “This one here. Or, I think one of ‘em got shot. So maybe seven.”

  “Well, is it seven or eight?” Ray demanded.

  “Call it eight to be safe,” someone suggested. “So… deer rifles. We get a good view, line ‘em up, take ‘em out fast. Boom, boom, boom. Hit ‘em before they know what’s up. Get the one with the radio first.”

  “Comms guy was in the middle, pretty sure,” Jake offered.

  “Then we focus on that guy first. He goes down, we pick off the others. This patrol here, see… you put a rifle here, here, and here. Wait ‘til they git in the kill box, here. Then they got no cover, no idear where the shots comin’ from.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Ray nodded as the plan gained footing in his mind. “I see that. Easy. And once we got their gear, we hit the compound.” He turned. “You know where it is?”

  “Heck, no.” Lerlaine placed the voice as Jake’s although she couldn’t see him. “I ain’t got that close, but it’s gotta be in here somewhere. Patrols are all about the same distance out. Like a box, see?”

  Ray nodded. “We get up there, can’t miss it. We get their radios, switch channels, check in, then all approach from different angles.”

  Jake agreed. “They’ll be on alert, but this place’ll have one, maybe two ways in and out. Cover those, put a bullet in anyone that comes out, and we’re golden.”

  “What about everyone inside?” someone asked. “Four patrols of six or eight? That’s, what… about thirty guys? Ain’t no way they’ve got every gun out on patrol at the same time. They’ve got to have double that, at least. Call it sixty, minimum. Ray, that’s pretty big numbers.”

  Ray shook his head. “Except we know these hills. Even if these douchebags are army or whatever, what do they know ‘bout hunting this terrain? We grew up here; they were in a desert for twenty years.”

  He grabbed his beer. “And don’t forget, that place was abandoned until a few weeks ago. They haven’t had time to learn. We can do this. We have to do this, you hear me? If we don’t, these SOBs are gonna dig in and we’re never gonna see the end of ‘em. Then, they’re gonna be up our you-know-whats. We hit ‘em now, hit ‘em hard, and this whole place is ours.”

  “Still.” Ryder scratched a spot on his scruffy chin. “Even if we come at it from different angles, we’ll be pretty thinned out. We need a distraction. Maybe rig up some pipe bombs?”

  “You’ll just set the mountain on fire, moron,” someone sniped. “Another of those windstorms picks up and the whole place’ll light up again.”

  The room fell quiet. Lerlaine nibbled on a jagged nail. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who thought this whole plan was crazy.

  “Ain’t there a pretty big bunch of folks hunkered down at the chemical plant off 194?” Ray asked. “You was out there a few days ago, Gun, wasn’t you?”

  “I guess about twenty, twenty-five, maybe.” Gun’s voice was rough and deep from years of smoking. “Last I saw, they was still there. Didn’t look like the fighting types, though.”

  “That don’t matter. Say we give ‘em a head start, tell ‘em how to get up there. We hit the patrols. They move through.”

  Ray pointed at the map. “We hang back here, see? Kick this hornet’s nest, they swarm out. All those folks from the plant will scatter and keep the hornets busy. We pick ‘em off, cut down the numbers inside.”

  Lerlaine’s gut twisted. It was one thing to shoot a bunch of military types who’ve been killing ordinary people left and right. But to sacrifice people just trying to get by... If they were anything like she was only a few days ago, they were half-starved, unarmed, and nearly helpless.

  She wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with the idea. “I don’t know, Ray.” Jake kept his voice even. “You sure we wanna… I mean, they’ll be gunned down. No question.”

  “They try and cross, they’ll be gunned down anyway,” Ray pointed out. “They go south, they run into that Jesus-freak cult down there. They stay here, they starve. They’re screwed no matter what they do. At least this way, we end up on top. We’ll give ‘em some pistols, maybe they’ll take a few out for us. Hell, maybe they survive. Just tell ‘em, see what they say.”

  “Alright.” Gun grumbled out a response. “I’ll talk to ‘em.”

  “Tell ‘em we’ll keep ‘em safe,” Ray urged.

  If Gun responded, Lerlaine didn’t hear it.

  With the plan settled, the conversation devolved into Ray slinging words of encouragement, boasting about how many men they were going to kill, and what kind of guns they’d find. How after it was all over, they’d have a castle they could rule from. It was laughable, even juvenile.

  It was a suicide mission.

  Lerlaine shivered from nerves and something else… Optimism, maybe? Ray might go up the mountain with his boys and never come back. He’d be shot and she’d be free of him forever.

  There was enough food here to last, what, a few months, if she was careful with it? If she ate enough to keep Hunter fed and made sure Maddox ate just enough to stay healthy, she could stretch it to six, maybe.

  Then again, if those men up in the mountain really were actual, trained military types, would they come looking to eliminate any lingering threats? If they took Ray out and figured out where he’d come from, this place would probably be swept or… whatever it was they called it.

  Would she be safe?

  She watched as Maddox dug around his bowl for the last fistful of cereal. No. She wasn’t safe here. She wouldn’t be safe. On her own, she’d just end up where she was before—desperate and willing to make a deal with the devil to save her kids.

  With Ray, it was only a matter of time before he realized that food was scarce, and maybe did something horrific. Maybe the military up on the mountain, if that’s who they were, would come down, find her, save her and her children. Or maybe they would shoot first and never ask a question.

  None of the options as to how this whole plan would play out were good. On the dresser across the room, the keys to Ray’s race car practically called to her. He’d be gone. She could pack up, take as much food as she could, and leave.

  A scrape of chairs and a thunder of boots sounded from the living room and Ray appeared in the doorway, blotting out the light. He stood there a moment, looking at her, and then at Maddox, before ducking into the closet where no door now stood thanks to too many punched holes. He pulled out his hunting jacket.

  “Me and the boys are leavin’.” He shrugged into it. “Gonna be gone for a few days. Don’t eat all the food.”

  Lerlaine’s voice caught in her throat like it always did when she spoke to Ray. If she said nothing, she was cold and ungrateful. If she said something, it had to be the exact right thing.

  In the second of hesitation, his eyes cut toward her. “Did you hear me?”

  “I did,” she answered softly. “I won’t eat the food. We’ll be careful. W—where are you going?”

  “Out,” he said flatly, his eyes narrowing. “The f— do you need to know for? You think because I let you live here and eat my food and ride my junk you get to run me?”

  She resisted the urge to cover Maddox’s ears. She’d done that before, and Ray had almost hit Maddox in his effort to hit her. “You’re right,” she covered quickly. “I don’t need to know. Just… worried about you, is all. I’ll… I’ll miss you. Come back safe.”

  He eyed her for a long, dangerous moment, weighing something. Probably deciding whether she meant it, or was placating him, or trying to ‘handle’ him. All things that could set him off.

  Someone called from the living room. “You comin’, Ray?”

  Thank goodness. Ray raked fingers through his greasy hair, his eyes leaving her finally. “Hold your horses, Ryder,” he barked.

  Maddox flinched and watched Ray like a startled rabbit. Hunter stirred, gave the first cough of what was going to be a wailing fit soon. Lerlaine bit the inside of her lip, kept her face neutral.

  Ray rolled his eyes at Hunter. “That thing never shuts up,” he muttered as he strode forward. He leaned over the bed and grabbed a fistful of Lerlaine’s hair.

  She swallowed a whimper and forced herself not to wince as she moved with his hand and let him press his lips to hers. His tongue invaded, spreading the taste of beer and the sickening, slimy bitterness of his dip over her tongue and teeth.

  There was nothing sweet about it, nothing tender or loving; it was just another reminder that he kissed her like that because he could, not because he wanted to, or even wanted any kind of affection. Her heart pounded and her spine stiffened despite her best effort to let him have his way.

  Animal terror filled her body as he pushed her back hard enough that she caught herself with one hand to keep from falling onto Hunter.

  Maddox sniffled but choked back a cry of alarm. That was maybe the worst of it. Not that she had to suffer through it, but that her son knew how dangerous it was to cry out.

  For half a heartbeat, she imagined Ray on the forest floor, his skull opened, his brains spread out on the ash and undergrowth, his eyes wide but blank. The thought made her hopeful, and she hated herself for it. But it would be better, that way, wouldn’t it?

  “Clean this place up while I’m gone,” Ray muttered as he went for the door.

  Lerlaine leaned into the hopeful feeling, letting it swell inside her chest. It was something to cling to in the moment. “I will,” she promised, and smiled at him when he looked back at her. It was a genuine smile. She meant it, even if Ray wouldn’t know what she was smiling at. “Good luck, baby. Stay safe out there.”

  Ray looked her over, momentarily confused, before nodding as he pulled a hat from his pocket. He shook it out once and slipped over his head. “I will, baby.”

  The door slammed. An engine revved. He was gone.

  Lerlaine gathered Maddox to her chest and squeezed him tight.

  She prayed harder than she’d prayed for almost anything in her life. Please God, let him die up there and never come back. If you have any mercy left, let him take a bullet to the head.