The Reaper: No Mercy (8 page)

*****

Tom watched through the narrow window beside the front door as the Reaper left, and didn't take his eyes off the tall figure until it disappeared from sight. Only then did he turn to Pat. Patrick was a tall, raw-boned man with greyish-blond hair and a very pale complexion. They had known each other since before the zombie outbreak, both having worked at the same auto parts store. Tom had been Pat's supervisor, though that didn't matter now. What mattered was that they trusted each other.

The pressure of keeping all of their refugees safe was tremendous, and when the marauders had attacked two days ago it was only by perseverance and quite a bit of luck that they’d held them off. Since that time, they had been slowly moving cars up, not as a blockage against snowplows or bulldozers, but as an additional barrier that would give them the time needed to wound or kill any marauders that attacked again.

"Pat, bring up more vehicles for the barricade. What the Reaper said makes sense. Try to get the biggest ones you can find."

"Do you really think it's the same Reaper we heard about?"

"Might be. He fits the description."

"He had some balls walking up to the front door like he did."

"That fits the description also."

"Will the extra cars and trucks really help though, Tom? Can we keep holding them off?"

Tom frowned as he considered the question. Tom was ex-military, specifically Air Force, and had been flight crew for F-18s before his enlistment expired. He barely knew what he was doing, and was going more on gut instinct than anything else. Now he turned to Pat while gripping his upper arm.

"Hell, we beat them once, right? And gave them a pounding they won't soon forget. Sure we can beat them again, now start making our barricade bigger.” Pat nodded and, throwing a mock salute at Tom, took off at a fast walk.

*****

Janet considered herself tough, which was why she was out alone in a city filled with the undead along with a savage gang of other survivors. Growing up as a military brat with four older brothers had taught her to be strong-willed and clever. Her group needed supplies, and the kids were getting bored, which meant it was harder to keep them quiet. Most of the men in their party were out getting those supplies except for two, and even though Bill and Ralph had begged her to stay, Janet had ignored their entreaties as she considered herself the equal of any man. Besides, Bill was sweet on her, a feeling she did not reciprocate. He just wasn't her type, and she needed to get away from his smothering attitude for a short while.

Now she was searching for games to help the kids pass the time. She’d found them in a small grocery whose shelves were mostly bare.
Probably the work of these other savages,
she thought, as she located the small game section quickly and stuffed her backpack full of puzzles, Yahtzee and cards.

Janet stood 5’6” in her stockings, and her long, honey-blonde hair framing a tanned face completed a more than lovely picture. She paused to grab two small packs of #3 diapers and a large plastic box of baby wipes, and realized her backpack wouldn't be able to hold much more. She made a last stop near the front at the feminine hygiene products, where she grabbed up several boxes of maxi-pads and tampons, shoving them into the already-full interior of her pack before cinching the straps tight.

“Men never remember to get all the items women need,” she muttered to herself as she crept to the back of the store cautiously, on the lookout for the undead or anyone else that might be lurking there. She had her pistol on her belt, but what she held in her hand, directed before her, was a large machete she had learned to use very well in the preceding weeks. In the darkened interior of the store, she was more worried about the undead than the savages who were roaming the streets shooting everything in sight. She sniffed cautiously ... and yes, the undead were here.

Letting her eyes adjust to the gloom, she spotted the creature standing motionless between two racks against the wall. After carefully examining the rest of the back, it was apparent there was only one of the undead creatures. Slowly a grin split her face as she raised the machete high overhead. She moved a step closer and
yes!
its face instantly turned in her direction. It was all the distraction she needed as she swung downward with all her might, just as it tried to rush her. "Too late for you", she muttered under her breath as she felt the shock of the sharp edge cleaving the skull in half travel up her arms and across her shoulders. As the creature dropped to the ground, really dead this time, one of its hands grasped the rack next to it. With a huge crash, the metal shelving unit fell to the ground alongside the zombie’s prone form, causing Janet to jump quickly to avoid being squashed.

"Damnit to hell!" she hissed as she stepped on what remained of its head in order to yank her blade out. She knew sound traveled, and that loud crash had probably traveled quite a distance, even from within the confines of the closed store. Then the back door was right in front of her and she quickly shoved it open, stepping out.

Blinking rapidly to readjust her eyes to the bright sunlight, she felt a strong hand grasp the wrist holding the machete and her heart completely sank into the pit of her stomach.
Oh double damn it to hell
, she thought as a grinning male face with a scraggly beard pulled her closer. Instinctively she snapped her knee up in an attempt to pulverize his manhood, but he was too quick and had already blocked it, anticipating her move. He then twisted her to the side and slammed her against the concrete back of the store, causing her to grunt as the pain hit her shoulder blades, head, and lower back.

"Well what have we caught here?" he laughed in her face as she tried to recoil from the putrid smell of his breath.
Oh my God, doesn’t he even bother brushing his teeth once in a while
? she thought as his breath washed over her.

"Let me go," she hissed at him as she desperately tried to draw her pistol from her belt, only to feel another hand grab that wrist, pulling it to the side, while removing the pistol from her hand. With shock she saw another man. Equally dirty, with crooked teeth framed in a face surrounded by matted hair, and grinning at her. She shuddered and tried to kick, only to have both of her captors kick back quicker, their booted feet painfully pounding into her shins.

"Oh, I don't think so, lovely thing. In fact I think it will be a long time before we let you go," grinned the first as he replied to her demands for freedom. "Hold her, Mikey, and let's see what she's hiding.” With that comment, a rough hand was being thrust up her sweatshirt to grab her breasts painfully and twist them.
Oh shit
, she thought in desperation,
this is so unfair
. As strong as she had thought she was, she was no match for these two men. They had obviously done this before, and countered her every move to break free.

"Oh, very nice and firm. Check them out, Mikey." The first guy appeared to be having way too much fun, and now was loosening her belt one-handed. Her heart sank further as his partner’s hand pulled her t-shirt out and roamed upward, exploring, then reversed course and dug into her loosened pants as she tried to melt into the concrete surface behind her.

"Spit and Ned, you’re gonna have to wait for sloppy fourths, because this girl is so damn fine we're gonna have seconds before we give her to you." Spoke Mikey for the first time as his fingers painfully dug into her womanhood. Behind him, she saw two more men equally dirty and unshaven and shuddered. Jesus Christ, how many were there?

"No!" This time she screamed as she felt her sex savagely mauled by rough fingers; tears sprang to her eyes when she fully realized the depths of her helplessness. She started crying and swearing at the same time but it did no good, as Janet felt herself dragged to a stack of nearby wooden pallets and quickly tied to their surface. Rape seemed inevitable, and she turned her tear-streaked face sideways as she felt her jeans and panties yanked downward to cluster around her ankles, exposing her sex, then felt her thighs roughly spread wide against her will. She clenched her eyes shut as she felt the first unknown man push between her legs and tried to brace herself when ...

"You heard the lady. No means no!" It was a low, deep voice, filled with anger, and Janet's eyes snapped open. He was tall, mid-fifties with a neat grey beard, dressed in jeans and a brown coat. The long, bolt-action rifle he held in his right hand was angled upward at the four men while his left hand rested on a pistol secured in a holster against his leg.

"Leave off, old man. We'll get to you in a minute. Right now we're having fun," spoke the nameless one between her thighs. She could feel his bare skin against hers and shivered, looking in desperation at the stranger.

"Help me, please," she whispered. His face turned briefly to hers and she saw him give a small smile and nod before shifting his attention back to the men before him.

"I will give you to the count of three to release her and leave this city. You are not wanted here, and you've outstayed your welcome. I would advise you to take that grace I am granting you, as I will not repeat myself. Now let the lady go!" The last was growled, and the man's right hand twitched as the gun focused on the closest to him. She could see he held it tightly and that his finger was on the trigger, yet he still hadn't fired.
What in hell is he waiting for
? she thought.

"Fuck you, old man," shouted one of the savages as he brought his own rifle up. Belatedly she realized it was an AR-15 variant, and her heart sank even as wild hope had blossomed within her moments before. Then a thunderous roar hit her eardrums as the stranger’s rifle fired, and the man closest to him fell to the ground, twitching. She couldn’t see where he had been hit but she could hear his rifle skittering across the pavement as the remaining three reached for their weapons.

She wasn't sure how he did it one-handed but another roar sounded, a round obviously having already been made ready, and the nameless one between her legs went limp as his dead body fell on top of her.
God damn it
, she thought at the splash of blood and brains that suddenly coated her upper body, but this time she saw the hole between his eyes, right through the bridge of his nose, and the bulging effect a round passing through the back of the skull had caused. She felt a brief satisfaction that at least this asshole would not hurt another woman again. Then everything sped up as the stranger took two steps forward, the rifle in both hands, butt stroking the next closest and a heavy boot coming up almost simultaneously to hit the last directly in the stomach. Both men went down and the stranger was standing over them. This time Janet saw him operate the bolt-action in a lightning-quick move.
Impressive
, was her only thought as he kicked the second-to-remaining dirtbag again and then moved sideways in her direction while speaking to the both remaining would-be rapists.

"If you two move, you're dead. If you try to speak, you're dead. I would advise against it." Then his left hand was reaching out, a clasp knife open and clenched in its grip, and the ropes binding her wrists were suddenly cut. Both of the other men were huddled on the ground, staying quiet and not moving, she saw as she slowly tried to sit up while simultaneously covering her naked form with her arms. The stranger’s hand moved to her again, and this time the knife was gone and his open palm was stretched forward, inviting her to clasp it. She grasped the proffered hand and was helped to a sitting position as her head swam. She then looked downward and saw the first man he had shot. He also had a bullet hole between the eyes, with a small trickle of blood welling up from its opening and a much larger spreading pool beneath him.

"Thank you. I don't know where you came from but thank you!" Janet was suddenly crying, her shoulders heaving as a flood of unstoppable tears sprang forth. She hated being all girly, but what she had just been through was as real as it gets and she had just known she was going to be gang-raped then taken back to their camp for even more others. She was still trying to come to grips at being mysteriously saved, and she felt the stranger’s hand touch her shoulder gently. Her body instinctively withdrew from the touch and he pulled it back, nodding at her. She knew she would need some time before allowing another man to touch her. He smiled kindly at her, keeping his distance, and for that he had her eternal thanks as he finally spoke again, addressing her.

"The name is Reaper and I was happy to intervene. I heard your cries for help and came seeking. I'll see you back to wherever you consider safe after I deal with these minions of Satan." With that he turned from her and she saw the kindness leave his eyes. A chill instantly ran down her spine upon seeing the coldness and death suddenly appearing within their depths, causing her to shiver involuntarily. She remembered muttering that her name was Janet but did not know if this savior of hers heard or not, as his gaze was focused elsewhere. Looking down at the two men before him, the Reaper spoke in a low growl.

"You have been found wanting in the eyes of the Lord. I will give you a minute to make your peace with the Almighty."

"Screw your God!" shouted the first man, the one who had been butt-stroked, and Janet saw him attempt to struggle to his feet, a large bruise forming on his cheek and chin. Instantly the big rifle roared again, and in a fraction of a second the Reaper had chambered a new round, the large bore of his rifle centered on the face of the remaining savage. The Reaper neither smiled nor frowned, as he was Death Incarnate. Janet didn't bother looking at the one who had fallen, for she knew that if she did, she’d see a hole between the dead man's eyes. She shivered again at the deadliness of this man who had saved her, and struggled to pull her panties and jeans up, then cinched her belt tight against the chill. A quick grab and her automatic was in her shaking hand, as the last dirtbag spoke.