The Reaper: No Mercy (17 page)

*****

The Reaper paused as he swiftly swapped out the first magazine for his second. His body was relaxed, his heartbeat steady, as he took each soul in the Lord's name,.
Ten down and many more to go
, he thought as he sighted in on a man shooting down into the manor from a nearby building. The crosshairs followed the man's every action as Jason timed the movements, then his finger tightened as another round was sent downrange and the other slumped in place, his rifle falling over the edge of the roof. Purgatory’s line was growing this day, and the Reaper was partially satisfied as he minutely shifted to bring his rifle to bear on the group of marauders near the front entrance to the domicile. He still had one hundred and forty rounds left in magazines. The thump of the stock against his shoulder indicated another round fired, this one taking a marauder through the back of the head, only to continue on to take the one before him between the shoulder blades. Two targets serviced, and the Reaper was shifting aim again. Soon they would spot him, and the slight grin that appeared on his face spoke volumes to the hurt these marauders were about to receive.

*****

The staccato of gunfire from a few blocks over was impossible to ignore.
It sounded like World War Three
, Andy thought, as he and Bruce dropped the sacks of supplies they carried and took cover behind nearby shrubs. Looking behind them, Andy quickly waved at Darcie who was just leaving the home they had raided, carrying an equally large bag of staples and other items. Without hesitation, she ducked back inside while Andy conferred with Bruce.

"I think the bad guys are hitting the manor again."

"Yeah, that would be my guess as well. Should we take a look?"

"Hell no, we should get our asses back to the church and take cover. We ..." Andy started to say when he was interrupted by much louder gunfire, this time coming from a block to their south and maybe two blocks east, while at the same time upward? Andy rolled over and, shielding his eyes against the morning sunlight, saw a tiny insect-like figure atop the city's lone cell tower, firing steadily every few seconds. The man's tiny rifle was unmistakable and Andy knew it was the Reaper living up to his name. "It's the Reaper, firing downward in the direction of the manor."

"What's going on?" It was Darcie, who had left the protection of the home they were just in to join them. For a second Andy considered the act one of seeming recklessness, then smiled as he gripped her thigh lovingly. She loved her man as much as he loved her, and that was really all that mattered.

"Looks like the manor is being attacked and the Reaper is on top of the tower helping them." Andy pointed and a second later Darcie was also able to make out the Reaper's form. The steady boom of a high-powered rifle from the man's position also helped. "Baby, I want you to go back to the church and wait for us there. Bruce and I are going to get a closer look, and no, we won't take any chances."

"Hell no, I'm coming with you!" Darcie's voice had instantly risen, and quickly Andy hushed her, then pointed out, "You need to be with our children. We're only going to do some scouting and we've done this before."

"I don't like it one bit, Andy Kiwacz!" Andy could tell she was mad but that her resolve to accompany him had weakened.

"I love you baby," he said, giving her a quick kiss. "Now go back to the church. It's only two blocks away and the route we picked is hidden, with no visible zombies."

"Fine, but don't turn this into a bad habit, Andy!"

"Yes dear." Andy grinned at her rapidly departing back then turned to Bruce. "You still have your grenades on you?"

"You betcha!"

"Then let's go," and with that said, Andy took off at a low run towards the Reaper’s position. In moments, they neared the end of the street and Andy slowed. Looking left and right for a good position to view from, he spotted an aluminum extension ladder next to the home on their right. Grabbing Bruce's arm, he pointed it out and they quickly scaled its metal rungs to the roof, then carefully peered over the ridge. They had a full view of the main street running east and west. Four blocks west was the manor, where dozens of vehicles could be seen racing around in circles while small clumps of men on foot fired into the defenders’ position.

"Wow!" breathed Bruce.

"Yeah, no shit, right?"

"I could fire from here but not sure if I'll actually hit anyone."

"Don't, it would just give our position away. We'll wait here and see what happens."

Beside him, Bruce nodded as they continued to watch the scene unfold.

*****

Staff Sergeant Schuster was ecstatic. For the first time in over a week, they were finally doing something against the marauders. He checked the magazine in his M4 once again as he crouched with the others: ready, willing and most able to put a hurt on these bastards when they came after the Reaper. For that was assured. It was simple playbook tactics. ‘React to sniper’ was not something normally taught to gang leaders, and Shue relished the pain they were about to inflict.

"You guys ready?" he whispered. A chorus of agreement answered his question and, looking over at the others, he saw identical expressions of glee mixed with vengeance. Grady, Adams and Hendrix were crouched behind the larger trees, deep in the woods. All of them had clear firing lanes into the street fronting the cell tower. Now it was only a matter of time. Signaling to stay sharp, Shue settle in, his carbine raised and waited.

Forward and above, Shue heard the Reaper start firing. Heavy booms sounded as each shot rang out. It was amazing how fast the rounds were being released, and Shue knew there would be action soon.

"Sharpen it up. It's going down," he called out. The others didn't respond, but Shue knew they heard him. All were professionals and this was an easy job. He leaned into the tree as he sighted through his Aimpoint down his area of responsibility and continued to wait.

*****

A commotion to the right suddenly caught the Reaper's eye. There! Over a half-dozen marauders were attempting to get through a ground floor window. The Reaper could see the shadowy forms of defenders inside striking out at the intruders as they cleared hastily-nailed boards away in an attempt to gain entrance. The Reaper growled. A straight shot might send the exiting round careening inside the home, hitting one of those within, which was something he did not want to risk. He lowered his aim instantly, breathed out, and fired. The round immediately impacted the small of an attacker’s back and traveling through, disintegrated against the fieldstone and brick wall before him. Then, as the attacker’s screaming, paralyzed form was falling earthward, the Reaper was already firing again, then again as marauders fell in waves from the window opening. The Reaper never missed, and was once again exchanging magazines in a smooth, unconscious movement.

Over twenty down, and the living spawn of Satan have finally noticed me
, he thought contemptuously. The Reaper's gaze was empty as he noted the vehicles turning around in his direction, and once again he shifted his position while aiming lower still. The cross hairs lined up, the diamond illuminated, and the round took the foremost truck through the windshield, straight into the driver’s face. Jason idly noticed the vehicle turning sideways then rolling over as his aim was already focused on the next in line. Tinted front windows always make it a partial challenge, so the Reaper focused on what he could see and automatically adjusted. The driver's hands and forearms on the steering wheel told Jason exactly where the torso would be. He fired, and this time watched as the truck continued in a straight line for a score of feet before finally veering to the side, hitting a telephone pole. The remaining dozen were headed straight at him, but as they crossed the intersection with Hill Street, his team opened fire.

*****

Andy and Bruce watched the trucks racing down the street, then witnessed the Reaper take out two; in that microsecond, they knew he didn't have enough time to relocate before the marauders arrived at the tower he was perched on.

They decided to act.

"Give me your frag, and take my thermite. I hope your pitching arm is up for it, Bruce. I'll try to disable them and you aim for a window or truck bed," Andy spoke quickly as he pulled the pin on one of the two fragmentary grenades in his hands. Andy knew the canister grenade he'd handed Bruce was an incendiary device because they'd tested one when neither understood the markings painted on the side. It had burned for a considerable amount of time and destroyed everything it touched. Thermite was the only explanation they could arrive at. "We have to help the Reaper or they'll be climbing that tower like ants. Get ready, man!"

"Ready," Bruce replied as both rose into a kneeling position, and Andy's arm went back before slinging forward—fast! As the fragmentation grenade left his palm, its spoon whipping off to the side, he heard gunfire coming from their left. The dark green ovoid arced high overhead in its parabolic trajectory, and he saw the trucks swerving back and forth. Someone else was helping, and Andy's hopes soared.

"Throw, Bruce!" Andy shouted, as he pulled the pin on his second and last grenade. Then it was on its way and he shouldered his rifle as he fell back into a prone position.

*****

"It's the Reaper, has to be," Scott said as he, Bill, and Janet watched. Over the last several minutes, over a dozen figures had fallen. Most from what appeared to be head shots.

"Are the odds even enough now?" Janet was angry. She was watching people die that might be saved, and now it was obvious the Reaper was helping them. The chances of their group's success in assisting the manor had already improved, and as she continued to watch, she saw a majority of the marauder vehicles race away. While this left quite a few bad guys still firing into the manor, those inside that large home were firing back, and the best part was they had a clear shot from where they hid.

"Yes, I don't know where those others went, but the odds are more than even now. Raise the windows and fire when I do, people," Scott called out. Within seconds, he'd raised the window and blinds before pushing out the screen. Beside Janet, others did the same, and in moments, seven rifles were resting on the windowsills of the four front-facing windows. Everyone had their favorite rifle with them, Janet's being the AR-15 Scott had given her, and she slowly breathed in and out as her finger tightened on the trigger.

Scott had taught her the rudiments of marksmanship. How to hold the weapon tightly and how to aim it properly. Making sure you breathed in and out slowly, then to fire as she exhaled.
Wait, the safety
. Janet mentally cursed and, using the thumb of her right hand, rotated the rifle off safe and prepared to fire as once again she sighted in one of the marauders near them.
Come on, Scott
, she thought, exhaling again.

"Fire!" he shouted, and immediately seven rifles opened up, and before them, seven figures fell. Some remained down, others jumped back up only lightly wounded, but Janet kept firing.

*****

“Holy shit,” Shue muttered to himself as he continued to release bursts of three and four rounds. He was aiming for tires, windows, and the figures crouched in the back of the trucks, when suddenly an explosion occurred under the lead vehicle. Then another, this one the bright actinic flash of willy pete. Someone was throwing grenades, and it wasn't at him and his men. Hooah!

Settling down again, he started firing on individual marauders as the vehicles ground to a halt, men piling out, weapons ready. Beside and behind him, his men continued to release controlled bursts of deadly accurate fire. The marauders were dropping as 5.56 tore through drunken bodies. Two of the trucks exploded from lucky hits to their gas tanks, and Shue started to stand.
Christ
, they were running away!

"Advance under cover," he shouted as he dodged to the tree in front of his position and dropped three rounds into a running figure, watching as it tumbled to the ground. A round hit the bark above his head, causing him to involuntarily duck behind the large bole of the tree. Then after a pause, he swung around the other side to fire another burst at two figures lying prone and firing back.

It was time to get some payback on these motherfuckers
, he thought as he did a forward scuttle to get behind yet another tree. This one smaller, and he cursed his momentary lapse in judgment as he felt the pluck against the side of his coat. Bastards were getting too close for comfort. It was irritating when gangsters and drug addicts learned to shoot somewhat straight.

"Forward, eleven o'clock. Two prone," he shouted again.

"On it!" Adams shouted, and Schuster watched as rounds stitched the ground beside, then over the firing figures of the marauders. Almost instantly, their guns went silent and Shue was moving again.

"Adams, Hendrix, echelon right. Grady, left on me!" and he was diving to the right as they semi-circled through the remaining tree line, the few remaining figures directly ahead and under fire from the unknown group across the road. Shue was half-relieved and half-disappointed that most of the marauders had run as fast as their legs could carry them.