Legend of Mace (28 page)

“Let’s just hope they don’t have these as well,” Mace said, holding up his own goggles. “We’d be better off not underestimating them like they did us.” Turning to Crockett, Mace motioned towards the back wall. “I want you roaming beyond the gate with me. Load up on ammo. The last thing we want is to end up empty out there. Once they come we hit and run.” Turning his attention to the rest of the group, he said, “I want you evenly spaced around the wall. Any sign of movement I want reported immediately. Anything gets close, shoot it.”

“What about you and Crockett?” Bailey asked. “You’re going to be roaming around out there.”

“Simple,” Mace said. “Don’t shoot us.” He gave Bailey an uncharacteristic wink. “You’ll never live it down.” Eyeing the boys carefully, he added, “If things start popping out there, it’s up to you whether to risk engaging outside the wall. If you do, I don’t want anyone on their own. You go in pairs and make sure this camp remains secure. I want clear communication before you go. Once you leave, radios stay behind. I don’t want anything exposed.”

Chelsea pulled open the door to the hospital. She wanted to check in with her mom before reporting to her assignment. The girls in the camp were to take out anything that made it past the guards.

“You look terrible!” Chelsea said, a little shaken as she stared down at her mother.

Lisa took quick, short breaths as she stared back, trying to keep herself together for the sake of her daughter. Her skin looked ashen and blotchy. Squirming in discomfort, Lisa tried to smile. “Way to boost my ego, kiddo.”

Behind Lisa, Jason played quietly with Lego while Shawn slept soundly on a blanket. Buster, who’d been walking in circles around his dog-bed getting ready to settle down, looked up at the sound of Chelsea’s voice. Ambling over happily, he nudged Chelsea with his nose.

From under her shirt, Herman poked his head out the bottom. Buster sniffed at his head as Chelsea looked down and said, “Hey Buddy,” sadly, concerned over the fate of her mom.

Noticing Chelsea for the first time, Melissa said, “Hey Chelse,” as she came out of a back room with more antibiotics and a change of dressing for Lisa’s wounds. “How is everything out there? We heard so far so good.”

“Waiting for a second assault,” Chelsea answered quietly, keeping her eyes glued on her mom’s face. “How’s she doing?” she asked, lifting her head to make eye contact with Melissa. “She doesn’t look good.”

“You know I’m lying right here,” Lisa answered, annoyed.

“Not too well,” Melissa said carefully, not wanting to upset Chelsea or Lisa. She wasn’t sure if Lisa was going to pull through.

“I’m right here,” Lisa said again, keeping her eyes trained on Chelsea, “and I’m fine, damn it. I’ll be up and about in a few days.”

Not sure what to think or feel, Chelsea grew misty. “You better,” she said quietly, trying to keep herself together. “I can’t lose you, mom. I can’t do this without you.”

Lisa groaned as she tried to lift her head. “You look here,” she said seriously. “You are strong and capable and can handle anything. That’s how I raised you. Nothing’s going to happen to me. But if it does, you are going to carry on and take care of this camp. Death is always a possibility out here. You can’t run from it.” Lisa’s faced look strained as pain seared through her. She tried not to allow Chelsea to witness her discomfort.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Chelsea said as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “I’ll be strong,” she said as she reached out to touch her but thought the better of it. “I’ll be strong for both of us right now.”

Lisa’s head started spinning and she suddenly felt confused. “Leave me alone, now,” she said coarsely. “I need to get some rest.” She settled back into the bed and closed her eyes.

Feeling more confused, she braced herself as a wave of nausea washed over her. She turned her head and vomit sprayed from her throat. Chelsea jumped back, frightened by the severity of her heaving. Lisa groaned loudly as she continued to throw up. Melissa rushed to her side to comfort her.

“Get out!” Lisa screamed to Chelsea. The baby started crying as Chelsea backed away, clearly shaken.

Razor looked at the motley group of bikers left in his gang. They were gathered back at their camp, in shock at its complete destruction. He couldn’t believe they’d suffered such enormous losses since coming into contact with Mace. Everything they’d built was gone. Their drug lab had blown up, the nukes were gone, the trailer with the infected was gone, their hookers were gone. Everything was gone, gone, gone.

Reaching inside his pocket, Razor felt for the vial. He needed a hit more than anything right now. Needing to come up with a plan, he pulled out Stitch's vial and addressed his gang. “That camp is ours. Fuck blowing it up, now. That’s our new goddamn home!” Getting worked up, his voice grew to a near shouting level. “We’re not going to let some fucking crazy prick and a bunch of snot-nosed kids take us out!” He opened the vial and dumped the entire contents onto the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

Snorting it quickly, his eyes grew glossy as he continued. “We are going to kill every living male in that camp then tie every bitch down and pull one long fucking train.” Looking them over, he continued with his plan. “We’re gonna ditch the bikes once we get within a few miles and go in stealth. We wait until the middle of the night, when they’re least expecting it, and slit throats, quiet-like. What do we have left for weapons?” he asked, scanning each man.

They each pulled out what they possessed. “That ain’t shit,” Razor said, disappointed as he looked over the small amount of weaponry and bullets. One of his men pulled out three flares from his motorcycle bag.

“Those might help in the dark,” Razor said, grabbing them. He knew they all needed a fix if they were going to pull this off. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s check all the bodies. Check ‘em for weapons and drugs. Somebody’s got to have some good shit left.”

It was a little after 3am when the bikers crept towards the camp.

“Time to split up,” Razor whispered from behind a debris pile. Their jaws all worked furiously as they gritted their teeth. They’d pulled quite a large pile of crank off the dead bodies and snorted it all before leaving. “I want you four to head to the front gate,” he said, directing his attention to part of his gang. “You four take this side. The rest of us are heading to the rear. That’s where they’ll be expecting us. Get ready. If they spot us we’ll create a firefight. That should create enough of a diversion for you to get inside.” They started to disperse and Razor added, “Stay low and quiet.”

Several of the kids were sleeping at their posts. The rest were either nodding off themselves or stirring restlessly. From the rooftop, Roger just missed spotting the four ambling towards the front as he scanned the grounds. He’d been conducting regular radio-checks to keep the kids on their toes, but their tired or delayed responses told him they were growing weary of guard duty.

Crouched behind a debris pile, Mace felt his skin tingle as he heard rustling in the distance. Waiting for the bloodshed to come, he’d grown more antsy as time went on. Moving his head out a few inches, he caught sight of the bikers as they scampered around to come up behind the rear wall. They were still over a hundred feet out. He counted seven bikers. He knew that couldn’t be their complete numbers. They’d split up. The good news was they were operating by the thin light of the moon and didn’t possess night-vision.

Moving swiftly, Mace kept low as he came up behind them. From the amphitheater roof, Jade zeroed in on the party as they progressed. She was about to take one out when she spotted Mace come up behind the last one and grab him around the mouth with one hand. Pulling him back, green blood sprayed through Jade’s night-vision as the blade sliced through the jugular.

Mace’s whole body ignited with pleasure at the act. He needed more. The plan was to hit and run, but he couldn’t control his sudden lust for blood. Moving towards the next trailing biker, he was about to strike when the man turned his head, spotting him. Before the biker could utter a word a bullet smashed through his skull. On the roof, a small pop was all the sound that came forth as Jade fired. For a night attack, all their sniper rifles were equipped with home-made silencers. The bikers weren’t the only ones prepared for stealth.

Jade cocked the rifle and prepared for another shot as Mace disappeared into the darkness. The small commotion was enough to turn the bikers' attention behind them. In the darkness, they couldn’t see clearly, although their paranoia was immediately peaked by their missing comrades and the effects of the drugs. They saw the lumps of the bodies on the ground a second before they heard Mace come at them. As they turned towards the sound, Mace suddenly appeared, lunging at them, his machete at the ready. He wanted to take them all by hand.

Jade held back her shot as soon as Mace appeared. Swinging the machete, he chopped off the first one's hand as he brought his gun up. His scream filled the air as Mace’s blade stayed in movement and sliced deep across the next one’s chest. Pulling it free, he swung it at neck height at the third biker, lopping his head clean off. Gunfire erupted as Razor fired at him from close range, hitting Mace in the side with two bullets.

Seeing the goggles wrapped around Mace’s face, Razor immediately turned and fired several shots towards the compound. The muzzle flash from Razor’s weapon was enough to throw off Jade’s vision, and she turned her head as Razor yelled, “Run for cover! They’ve got night vision!”

The only other biker left fired towards Mace as Mace dropped his machete and dove for the ground, rolling. The biker couldn’t see well enough to hit him.

Cursing himself for losing control, Mace clutched his side, feeling the marks on his vest as he pulled his handgun free. Razor snapped open a flare and threw it towards the compound as he and the last biker scurried towards the closest debris pile. The flare left Jade completely blind for a second as white light flooded her field of vision. She whipped off her goggles and closed her eyes, trying to clear the white dots.

The camp erupted with gunfire as kids awoke or jumped up at the sound of shots fired outside the wall. Their first reaction was to fight. Bailey screamed, “Hold your fire!” into the Walkie-Talkie as he remembered Mace and Crockett.

Crockett quietly lifted his bow as two bikers passed within twenty feet of his debris pile. They appeared bright green as they scurried forward through his goggles. He was about two hundred yards from the commotion surrounding Mace and a fair distance from camp. He was about to release the arrow when he heard the click of a gun hammer next to his ear.

“Take one move ya little shit and I'll splatter your brains,” a raspy voice whispered in his ear. Crockett smelled horribly rotten teeth and his stomach briefly roiled before he slowly lowered the bow. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

“What do you think, Spider,” the voice said, whispering a little louder as he turned to address a companion. “This one might be worth a poke. I bet he's got a nice, tight ass.”

“Fuck you, dirtbag,” Crockett said, keeping his eyes trained on the ground, trying to think of his next move.

“Ooh, we got a fiesty one,” Spider said as he pulled closer and the first biker chuckled. Leaning in, he asked, “How’d you know his name? You psychic or something?” His tone changed and he said lustfully, “You ever get your shit packed, little man?”

The other biker laughed a little louder as the two Crockett had targeted came scurrying back. “Not so loud, Dirtbag, you want to give us away?”

Crockett looked up at the biker with rotten teeth. With night-vision goggles still strapped to his face, the biker appeared big, ugly, and green. Dirtbag’s teeth and jaw were in constant movement. “Your name’s really Dirtbag?” Crockett asked sarcastically. “Funny, it fits you, although I think ugly motherfucker would have been better.”

Dirtbag looked at him hard for a second before he couldn’t help himself and chuckled. His friends all broke out with laughter. “You got balls, kid, I’ll give you that,” Dirtbag responded.

Crockett smiled as he looked from Dirtbag to the others. Their guards were momentarily down. He tried to think of how Mace would handle the situation.

Dirtbag placed a hand on Crockett’s shoulder and leaned in. “I don’t think you’ll be smiling when my dick is up your ass.”

Crockett didn’t flinch. “I'll bet I take shits bigger and harder than your dick. I'm not expecting much." He nonchalantly reached down and gripped his handgun as it rested in its hip holster.

Dirtbag’s friends burst out louder with laughter as Dirtbag shook his head, irritated at the jab. Inside the compound, Bailey and another Ranger looked at each other strangely as they guarded the wall. They heard laughter coming from somewhere out in the darkness. Their goggles couldn’t pick up any movement.

“Enough already,” Dirtbag responded, growing tired of the kid’s mouth. “Take off the goggles and hand them over.”

“I don’t think so,” Crockett said. He'd die before he'd help them in any way. “You know what the funniest part of this is?” Crockett asked Dirtbag as the other bikers leaned in to hear what else he would say. “The fact that you’re all so stupid you haven’t figured out you’re dead yet.”

Dirtbag looked confused for a second before Crockett brought the gun swiftly up and placed it under Dirtbag’s chin. He pulled the trigger and Dirtbag’s head shot back as Crockett swung the gun around and popped a shot into the next closest one’s chest. He took off at a sprint into the darkness, cutting a sharp left as the remaining bikers fired wildly into the dark. With the goggles on, he could see the ground clearly in front of him.

Scanning the area outside the wall on Crockett’s side, Bailey couldn’t help himself and tapped the Ranger next to him before announcing over the radio, “We’re heading out, cover us!” Jumping over the wall with their sniper rifles, they stayed low as they sprinted towards the source of gunfire. As they raced towards the gunplay, they suddenly spotted the two bikers with their backs turned, firing wildly into the darkness. Bailey stopped his friend with a hand to the chest and they both lifted their rifles and placed perfect head shots.