“I wish I knew where I put it down,” I told her truthfully. The back facing camera was displaying a heavy shower of sparks as the shredded tires finally peeled away, leaving metal to grind on asphalt.
“Not going to get far before the wheels either seize up or fall off,” BT said. “Seen it enough times with the spike strips we used to use. Gonna be fast, especially with something this heavy.”
As if the bus were cognizant of BT’s words, thick, nose-melting smoke began to drift up from below, and the bus began to wobble as if we were on square wheels. Then there was a horrible squealing as the bus began to fishtail. We weren’t in danger of losing control or tipping over; I don’t think we were traveling much over ten miles an hour by this time. Deneaux kept her foot down on the peddle for a little while longer, but all she succeeded in doing was getting the engine to rev louder. We were grinding to a halt.
“Get out of the bus!” was screamed at us.
We didn’t say anything or move; we knew they were “kill first and talk later” type of people.
“That thing is basically a big soup can. Do you really think it’s going to stop our bullets?” We already knew it wouldn’t; there was sunlight streaming through enough bullet holes to prove that point. The man, maybe wanting to make double sure we understood that, punched a slug through one side that traveled over the aisle and exited the other. Smoke swirled in its wake.
“Fuck,” a collective response.
“We’ve got enough bullets to make that thing look like a cheese grater!” There was some laughter outside as he said the words.
“The bathroom,” Deneaux said.
“That room isn’t any safer than the rest of the bus,” BT told her.
“The waste tank leads to the cargo area,” she explained. “We can lift the bucket out first, then someone is going to have to go down and unscrew the large nut that holds the flange in place for the drainage and cleaning.”
“Good thing it’s clean,” I said without thinking.
BT looked sheepish. “I had to go, man. Remember?”
I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick peek down the hole with my flashlight. I don’t think vomit is the right word in this situation. What punched me in the nose should have never been produced by a human.
“What the fuck man! Did you eat a pony?” I stepped back. “Not for nothing, Deneaux, but there’s no way I could fit down that hole even if I wanted to, and BT certainly can’t. You and Tiffany, maybe. At least you two will be safe.”
“Women and children first,” Deneaux said.
“Is that what they really said on the Titanic? I mean when you were there?” BT asked.
I wanted to smile over to him but refrained. “BT and I will hold your legs.”
“Sounds pleasant...but whatever for?” she asked.
“We’re going to stick your head in there so you can undo the screw.”
“My hands are far too arthritic to turn that.” She made her hands into claws and showed me for effect.
“Tiff?” I asked.
“Nuh-uh.” She backed up. “I’ll die of asphyxiation long before I can get that undone.”
“It’s not that bad,” BT beseeched.
“The Hindenburg wasn’t that bad. Whatever is going on down there is fucking epic,” I said.
Deneaux pulled out the trash liner and handed it to Tiffany.
“What do you want me to do with this?” she asked.
“Well, I’m thinking your best bet would be to put it over your head so you don’t have to smell BT’s ass anymore,” I said.
“Don’t listen to that fool. Put it over your hand and arm like a glove; you won’t even know you’re touching it,” Deneaux said.
“I’m not going down there,” Tiffany reiterated.
“Don’t be a fool, girl,” Deneaux snapped. “Michael and BT are about to be captured or killed and that’s nothing compared to what awaits us. We need to survive. If they are merely captured, it will be necessary to rescue them.”
Maybe the bad guys figured Tiffany needed persuading; they took a few shots through the bus to hurry us along.
“I don’t know about all she said, Tiffany, but I would at least like to see you live through this all.”
She looked over to BT who nodded his agreement.
“This is so fucking gross,” she said as we lowered her in. “Oh god! I’m touching it! I’m touching it. I can’t feel a nut...” she said after a few seconds.
We began to pull her up. “Make sure you leave the bag behind,” I told her.
Deneaux lifted the shell up slightly and pushed it to the side. “Looks like it wasn’t screwed back in.”
“You…you mean I went down there for nothing?”
“If we survive, we’ll get you therapy,” I promised her. I pushed the shit box out of the way leaving a decent sized cavity for the two women to go down into. They’d be able to move the box back in place and hide should anyone look in the toilet. “Try not to be too Deneaux-ish,” I told Vivian as I was about to close the seat. She gave me a thumbs up like this was Top Gun or some shit.
“Haven’t they already seen Deneaux?” BT asked.
“The witnesses are dead.” She said softly.
“Bet she’s said that a lot.” I said.
“We surrendering or going out blazing?” BT turned to me.
“I’d like to give the surrender route a go first.”
“Really? You?” he asked.
“My wife said there were some things about me that needed changing. I figured I’d start now.”
“I’m not afraid of dying, Talbot.”
“Neither am I, my friend. I’m just scared of watching you die.”
“Fair enough,” he replied.
“We’re coming out!” I shouted.
“We would appreciate it if you did not bring your weapons,” came the polite reply.
I put all my weapons on the seat, as did BT. “You ready for this?” I asked. He nodded.
I opened the door and took the three steps to the road. I was staring down at least a dozen guns. Most of them had on camouflage gear or khaki pants and shirts. Military or survivalists or maybe both. Either way, they were well-equipped and at least moderately trained; this had been our only option. I noticed that grips on rifles tightened as BT followed behind.
“That son of a bitch has to be from Nebraska,” one of the men said.
“Do they even have enough corn to feed him?” the other replied.
“Where’s everybody else?” the man who I figured was the leader asked. He had close-cropped hair and a neat but fairly unremarkable beard and mustache, except for the bright red hue. He had enough freckles it could have been considered a tan.
“That’s it,” I told him.
He motioned for me to keep my arms up. “The two of you have a bus? For what reason?”
“Look at the size of him. It’s the only thing big enough to give him some leg room.”
“Be that as it may, I do think I’ll have some of my men check the bus out.”
Three men elbowed past us and went in cautiously. Not more than thirty seconds later they came back out shaking their heads.
“Open the cargo doors,” the man said.
Turning to look would have made them even more suspicious than my profuse sweating. When one of the men said “clear” I did my best to not act relieved.
“My name is Knox. Who might you two be?”
“Lenny and Squiggy. He’s Squiggy,” I said, pointing behind me.
“Are you fucking kidding?” BT asked. “He’s Mike and I’m BT. My friend here doesn’t do well under pressure.”
“Well, BT, it is indeed a pleasure to meet you. You will be a welcome addition to my army.”
“Army?” I asked.
“Have you never seen a post-apocalyptic movie in your life?” His eyebrows furrowed and he got angry; here was the insanity I’d been expecting. “There is always a man of greatness that rises and takes control of th
e world to bring order back to all that was lost. And I am that man.”
“Have you never watched those to the end?” I asked.
“Mike—stop antagonizing him,” BT whispered.
“You killed five of my men; you two are now my newest conscripts. It’s almost a fair exchange, if we go by sheer weight.”
“Do you offer dental?” I asked.
“You’re a funny man. You like being dead, funny man?”
“Beats the hell out of being under your command.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Mike—stop it, man.”
“Those assholes in the car we took out, we saw them earlier. They just shot a family up for no reason. Why?”
“Too old or too young; we don’t want them. But the ones you’re talking about were trying to go awol and we don’t take kindly to deserters, especially in a time of war.”
“In a world where people are as rare as dodo birds you just kill them?”
“Wouldn’t you kill me if you had the chance?” He asked.
“Well sure, but you’re a prick,” I told him.
He started laughing then turned to his men, still laughing, until they all started laughing, I should have realized this wasn’t gonna go well for me. The fire in my belly was intense—I’d not even heard the shot. I wasn’t even sure what had happened; I didn’t remember downing a bottle of tequila as the heat spread out. I’d moved my hand to the entry wound long before my mind could catch up to what was going on.
“Don’t even think about it or you’ll join him,” Knox said to BT. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do; I was heading down the road to shocksville and I’d caught a bullet train. “Not so funny now, is it?”
I coughed; a ball of blood fell from my mouth. I pounded my knees on the pavement as I dropped to them. Knox’s men were still laughing as they watched me die.
“I don’t think you would have made a good soldier anyway,” Knox said. “You look like the type that constantly questions authority, and I just don’t want that in my regime. Handcuff the giant and let’s get out of here. I can’t wait to watch this initiation.”
I was slowly canting to the side, and then I fell completely over. Knox came over to give one final parting shot.
“Hurts like a motherfucker I’m told. Probably going to hold on for another few hours, too. I’d put you out of your misery but fuck you, I don’t like jokes.”
I wanted to tell him “I’d noticed,” but the pain was so intense it was almost surreal; like it was happening to someone else. I watched as BT was pushed forward and into a car, then they took off. It was long moments before I heard movement behind me.
“He’s shot! Help me!” It was Tiffany.
Figured this was the end once Deneaux got involved. She knew what I was and that there was a chance I could recover from this. If she put a bullet in my head, though, that would be it for me, and she sure did have the opportunity.
“You going to live?” Deneaux asked as she looked down on me. She bent and grabbed the extra shells for my pistol out of my pocket.
“He’s been shot in the stomach. We have to get him back home.”
“Don’t have a car, dearie, and I don’t think the two of us are up to carrying him.”
“What are we supposed to do, just let him die?” Tiffany was on the verge of crying.
“How far is the car you sideswiped?” I managed to get out.
“Couple hundred yards.”
“Bring Tiffany,” I told her. The exertion to speak was all I could handle. There were some questions from Tiffany but I’d already decided to clock out for break.
I felt a rapidly cooling arm drape across my face; thought it might have been my own. I realized it wasn’t when I started drinking from it. Deneaux was watching intently as I pulled the blood in—I could only hope Tiffany wasn’t. It was maybe a half hour later that the bullet was forced out. It was going to be a lot longer before the pain released its grip.
“How come you never told me?” Tiffany asked after a while.
By now I was sitting against the front tire of the bus. “Not usually something one brings up in normal conversation...especially considering your experience with them.”
“Tommy as well?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone else?”
“Deneaux might be; nobody’s been able to prove it yet. Speaking of which, where is she?”
“She’s been smoking through her cigarettes as fast as she can inhale.”
“I would imagine she’s pondering whether she made the right choice or not in saving me.”
“What happens now?”
“I need to heal up a little more. While we’re waiting, please give MJ a call and tell him to track where BT went. Then we go and get him back.”
“There’s only three of us.”
“Well, you two don’t exist and I’m dead, so they’ll never see that coming. Plus, I’m going to ask for back-up.”
Chapter 7
BT’s initiation
Shut up, shut up, shut up, Talbot, BT thought frantically as his friend harangued the gunmen. These guys are dangerous. He’d no sooner thought the words when he heard the gunshot. At first he’d thought it might have been a warning shot until he saw Michael go down to his knees. He did not think it was a fatal shot—painful sure—but it shouldn’t be fatal. Now if his friend would just keep his damned mouth shut long enough for them to leave, he might just make it through this. BT felt the cold metal of a gun barrel press up against his temple.
“Hands behind yer back,” Simpkins, Knox’s second in command, said. At six three and two hundred and fifty pounds, he himself was a large man. He sized himself up with their newest acquisition.
“Gonna need another set of cuffs. This one’s shoulders are too big.” Pirelli had placed one cuff on and had attempted to pull BT’s other arm into place but couldn’t; even with the second pair on it had been a struggle. “This is one initiation I’m glad I’m not going to be a part of. Although I’m sad I’m going to miss you getting your ass beat. Damn, dude, you’re huge. Making us mere mortals feel all inferior and shit.”
BT looked back to see how his friend was doing as he was shoved forward, his head forced into the side of the car. A large laceration formed over his right eye and blood flowed down the side of his face. The look of hatred he leveled on Pirelli made the man step back.
“Yup, pretty fucking glad I’m not in the initiation.”
“Knox, we should just kill this one,” Simpkins said as they trailed the car holding the prisoner.
“He could die during initiation; he wouldn’t be the first.”
“I’m more worried about how many of our men he’s going to take out before we break him.”
“We could use a little thinning of the chaff, don’t you think? And just look at that glorious bastard. He will be a magnificent addition to my army,” Knox replied.
“Where are you taking me?” BT asked.
“Shut up.” Pirelli had turned from the shotgun seat. You talk again and I’m going to shoot you in the knee. BT had no way of knowing if this was an idle threat or not; if Pirelli was as loose with his trigger as Knox was, he had to assume it was viable. His head banged off the roof as the car hit a speed bump entirely too fast.
“Bet that felt good,” Gordon, the driver, said as he looked in the rearview mirror.
“You in the initiation?” BT asked.
Gordon looked away nervously; BT smiled.
“Welcome to your new home. Although, I got a feeling you won’t be staying long,” Pirelli said as he opened the back door and waited for BT to exit. “Let’s go. Inside.”
BT looked up and noticed at least four people on the roof of the giant superstore they’d parked in front of.
“You live in Best Buy?” They walked in, leading BT by both forearms. BT had not been expecting the set up. The merchandise and shelving had been completely removed. Off to the far left were orderly rows of cots; on the other
side were picnic tables, which he assumed formed the mess hall. Directly off to his right was what looked like a small recreation room with a caged ring dominating the center. A pit formed in his stomach. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he had a feeling that cage had something to do with the initiation—just something his old cop instincts told him. And those instincts had saved his life more times than not. People turned to stare as he was escorted in, men, women, and children. They looked well fed and well cared for. He wondered if they knew just how insane their leader was, or if they cared.
“Let’s go.” Pirelli pushed him in the back. “I’ve got someplace special for you.” “Someplace special” ended up being a cleaned out supply closet with a heavy oak door. An even heavier wooden beam had been placed across the front to bolster the lock. The door shut behind him and he heard the cross beam drop into place.
“Don’t bother with the fake ceiling,” Pirelli shouted from the other side of the door. “Everybody thinks that’s a way out. It isn’t. A mouse couldn’t fit through them openings and you ain’t no mouse.”
“I’m not just going to take your word,” BT replied.
“Of course you ain’t. I’m just trying to save you the trouble. Most people step up on the edge of the sink, but I’m telling you right now if you break that sink and I have to clean up the water, I will shoot you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” The composite sink began to creak and bend as BT placed his foot on it. “Fuck him.” BT jumped up and placed his hand against the rectangular ceiling tile. When it didn’t yield, he figured maybe the man wasn’t lying. The seal around the drain cracked and broke from his weight, but the pipe held. “Well, it isn’t leaking.” He looked for some sign of weakness or something he could use as a weapon in his enclosure. “Hurry your skinny ass up, Talbot,” BT said as he sat down on the cold cement floor.
He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when he was awakened by a loud rapping on the door.
“Strip.” Came the one-word command.
“What?” BT asked back groggily.