Wasteland Rules: Die Fighting (The World After Book 4) (14 page)

   The SUV zipped through Mission and they ignored the
angry stares from the Lakota there. No one threatened them, but everyone was
watching them, and some were clutching guns. Sterling got them out of there as
quickly as possible. Once they were through the town, Sterling detoured out
into the flat brown wasteland. They needed to get lost for a bit so they could
figure out what was going on and come up with a plan.

Southeast of Mission, South Dakota

September 14, 2029

   They drove for an hour deep into the wasteland
before Sterling coasted to a stop. He picked a small dip in the landscape that
would make the SUV harder to spot. As soon as they stopped he retrieved a
camouflage tarp from the back. It was desert camouflage on one side and a solar
blanket material on the other. This would prevent people from seeing them
visually and using infrared.  He covered the SUV and staked down the edges
before ducking back inside.

   “How’s Derek?” He asked Rora.

   “The same.” She replied glumly. “We need blood and
glucose for him.”

   “There is nowhere near here we can get those
supplies, we need an alternative...” He told her. “There is one possibility.”

   “What’s that?” Rora asked, intrigued.

   “We could give him our blood.” Sterling informed
her.

   “What?”

   “Derek is AB+ so he can take blood transfusions
from anyone.” Sterling explained. “We can each give him a liter of blood. It
will give him a boost and it won’t affect us that much.”

   “What about the glucose?” Rora asked.

   “There are energy bars and sports drinks in the
back; they should provide the fuel he needs once he gets the blood.” Sterling
replied.

   “Well, we don’t really have a better option.” Rora
agreed. “Do you know how to do a blood transfusion?”

   “Pretty much.” Sterling told her.

   “Have you ever done one before?” She asked
anxiously.

   “No, but it can’t be that hard.” Sterling responded
confidently. “Why, are you afraid of needles?”

   “Not exactly…Let’s just get this done.” Rora said
quickly as she rolled up her sleeve.

   Using supplies from the trauma kit, Sterling rigged
up a transfusion from Rora to Derek. Rora sat stoically as the blood
transferred, but he could see she was upset for some reason. But he decided to
let it alone. When he thought it had been about a liter he switched the needles
and rigged himself up. When he was done he grabbed sports drinks from the back
and handed her one.

   “They probably won’t taste so good since they are
warm, but they will help recharge your body.” He said as he gave her one.

   She gratefully accepted and quickly drank it done
with a grimace. He drank his, and it was nasty, while they waited for Derek to
show some sign of improvement. It didn’t take long. Within minutes of the transfusion
he began to perk up and regained some semblance of consciousness. He was unable
to communicate with anything other than a mumble, but was capable of eating and
drinking the energy bars and sports drinks they practically forced down his
throat.

   “Are you back with us?” Sterling asked him after
they finished feeding him.

   “Where are we?” Derek said with a groan. “What
happened?”

   “You mean other than that monster kicking your
butt?” Rora joked.

   “Yeah. Other than that.” Derek replied with a chuckle.

   “Sterling here had a secret escape hatch complete
with vehicle.” Rora explained. “We dragged you out while Thornberg created a
distraction.”

   “Where is he?” Derek asked looking around slowly.

   “None of the rest made it out.” Sterling informed him
solemnly.

   “Those things killed every single person in the
base?” Derek asked softly.

   “Every single one.” Sterling responded with a sad
nod.

   “What were those things?” Derek wondered aloud.

   “Based on their appearance and abilities, I would
guess they are some sort of Drinker human hybrid.” Rora theorized.

   “Really?” Derek asked skeptically. “Who would mate
with a Drinker?”

   Rora laughed. “I think they are a result of genetic
manipulation, not copulation.”

   “You mean a variant of the virus that created the
Drinkers?” Sterling interrupted.

   “Yes, exactly.” Rora agreed.

   “We always wondered if someone had spread the
virus.” Sterling told them. “It spread way too quickly to be an outbreak.”

   “But we found ground zero in the mountains of
Arkansas.” Derek pointed out. “There was a lab with the original virus and
Drinker testing ground.”

   “That may be where the virus originated; but the
spread patterns indicated simultaneous outbreaks, which is impossible. Maybe
someone collected Drinkers from the testing ground and set them loose.” Sterling
supposed. “Whether it was the virus or the Drinkers themselves it looks like
the Discordians spread it intentionally. It would fit with their belief of
creating chaos.”

   “I think you give those crackpots too much credit.”
Rora said dismissively. “The DHS was experimenting with Drinkers at their base
under Stone Mountain. It was probably them.”

   “That’s true.” Derek agreed. “They did have the
Drinkers and they would have had the capability to spread them during the
Collapse.”

   “Maybe.” Sterling agreed reluctantly.

   “Whoever created those things, they seem to be
working for the Faceless and their new poster boy Zabrowski.” Derek said
sarcastically. “Have you seen any sign of them since?”

   “Uh, no…” Sterling started.

   “No Derek, we have been too busy fending off more
bounty hunters.” Rora snapped.

   “That would explain the dreams about explosions and
gunfire.” Derek replied with a smile. “Who was it?”

   “No idea, we didn’t stop to ask names.” Sterling
said with a grin. “But so far it was two hillbillies in an armed and armored
police car and someone in a heavily armored truck cab.”

   “I don’t know the hillbillies in the police car,
but the truck cab is Grizzly.” Derek said after some thought. “He’s a pretty
nasty character that prefers strangling his victims to shooting them.”

   “Sounds like a fun guy. Let’s hope we don’t run
into him again.” Sterling said facetiously.

  
“Again? You mean he isn’t
dead?” Derek asked incredulously.

   “You try killing someone wrapped inside two tons of
steel.” Rora informed him caustically. “We were lucky to get away.”

   “Fair enough.” Derek agreed. “So where are we?”

   “Southeast of Mission, South Dakota.” Sterling told
him. “I have us camouflaged so no one should be able to find us while we work
out our next move.”

   “And we needed to give you a little refill.” Rora
said pointedly.

   “Yes. Thank you for that.” Derek said with a nod.
“I guess I wasn’t much use to you so far, hunh?”

   “Not unless you count rolling around and moaning.”
Rora said mockingly.

   “Well, as usual you did okay without me.” Derek
said as he sat up and stretched. “I’m feeling much better now.”

   “Good. Because we’re going to need you to get that
computer core.” Rora said with finality.

   “Are we still planning on that?” Derek asked
doubtfully. “Isn’t everyone just going to be waiting for us to show up and
ambush us when we do?”

   “That’s why we need you.” Rora said sweetly.

   Derek patted himself down and gave himself a once
over. “I need my weapons. Where are they?”

   Rora and Sterling shared a look before she replied.
“Uh, Derek. We didn’t get them. We were too busy trying to carry you out under
heavy fire.”

   “I’ve had that shotgun for years.” Derek said
despondently. “And that machete was perfectly balanced.”

   “I have other weapons in the back.” Sterling said
reassuringly.

   “It’s not the same.” Derek replied with a
disappointed look on his face.

   “We’re not going back to get them.” Rora informed
Derek acidly. “So suck it up and let’s go. We still have a mission to
complete.”

   Derek gave her an odd look, but then nodded and
began looking through the weapons. Sterling watched as he picked out an M4
carbine and a Remington 1100 Tactical Shotgun. Derek continued to rummage around
and grabbed a combat knife to replace the one he lost. He also found a machete
but discarded it after testing its balance.

   While Derek was picking out weapons, Sterling made
preparations to leave. He refilled the gas tank from the extra gas cans and checked
the tires. Other than the damage to the rear, the SUV seemed in pretty good
shape. He broke down the cover and climbed into the driver’s seat. Derek was in
the back busily cutting down the shotgun with a hacksaw while Rora watched. He
seemed okay physically, his gifted physiology rapidly repairing the damage; but
Sterling was worried about the emotional damage.

   Derek had been beaten and beaten badly by the
monster known as Deimos. He had been left broken and helpless at the beast’s
feet. That did things to a man. Sterling was worried about how he would handle
combat again and the inevitable rematch that would follow. He had seen other
men broken by defeat and never recover. If that happened with Derek, their
mission was doomed to failure.

Southeast of Mission, South Dakota

September 14, 2029

   While Sterling drove, Derek focused on cutting down
the shotgun. He cut off the stock from the pistol grip and wrapped some grip
tape around the remaining grip. Then he cut off the barrel where the stock
ended and shortened the magazine tube to match. It wasn’t as good as his lost double
barreled sawed off, but it would do the job. The Remington 1100 did have an
advantage in that it was semi-automatic so it would fire all five shots without
pumping or reloading, but it didn’t have the spread or the intimidation factor of
the double barreled shotgun. And that double barreled had been his almost from
the beginning of his exile so it was like an extension of himself, he was so
used to having it.

   He had taken it off of the first punk who had tried
to rob him after his exile. It had been his go to weapon for years and had
killed more bad guys with it then Derek could remember. Its loss was insult to
injury. And injured he was. Deimos had beaten the hell out of him and nearly
killed him. If the CIA guys hadn’t sacrificed themselves to cover his rescue,
he would be dead, or worse.

   There had been close calls before, and the fight in
Vegas had been a challenge; but they had always been more or less even odds.
Derek had always felt like he had a chance. But Deimos, he had dominated Derek
with little trouble. Maybe Derek had been overconfident because he had already
beaten Zabrowski numerous times before; but Deimos had proved stronger, faster,
and tougher than Derek. He was the better man, or whatever he was.

   As they drove down deserted local highways and back
roads, Derek contemplated his life and his purpose. He had always gloried in
the death and destruction he caused, but had always justified it with the Rules
and the belief that he was killing bad guys. The zeal and recklessness had been
derived from his feeling of superiority and a sense of immortality. He had
always been the better man, in the truest sense, even though he didn’t know it.

   It made Derek realize how others must have felt
going up against someone who was physically more gifted than they were, and how
unfair his advantage had really been. Perhaps he should have been less arrogant
in his treatment of those opponents. Perhaps he wasn’t immortal after all. The
whole experience had been very humbling.

   He noticed Rora watching him with a concerned look
and the hacker eying him in the rear view mirror occasionally with a similar
look. He knew his quiet demeanor had them worried. They were counting on him to
provide the muscle to their brains and he had failed at Mount Rushmore. He could
tell they were worried the experience had broken him. It hadn’t but he was at a
loss as to how they would defeat Deimos on the next go around. And there was
sure to be another showdown in Wichita.

   The countryside whizzed by as they took the scenic
route to avoid encounters with the bounty hunters and anyone else after them.
The trip to Wichita would take much longer, but hopefully they could get there
without incident. The wasteland they passed through was largely empty, but
Derek noticed a sign for a nearby freehold.

   “I need a drink.” He suddenly announced.

   Both Rora and Sterling were caught off guard by his
sudden demand. They froze and both looked at him with shocked looks.

   “I need a drink.” He repeated. “Stop at this next
freehold.”

   “But we need to get to Wichita, Derek.” Rora
replied quietly.

   “We have a couple of days right?” He responded.

   “Yes, but we need time to scout the auction site
and plan our move.” Sterling pointed out.

   “Are a couple of hours going to make a difference?”
Derek asked irritably. “I need a drink.”

   “Okay, okay.” Sterling muttered. “Have it your
way.”

   Derek smiled. He needed that drink. A quick drink would
help get him back on track and let him prepare his mind for the battles to
come. He could relax for a few minutes and try to block everything else out. He
sat back and closed his eyes for a few minutes as they sped towards the
freehold. Fortunately both Rora and Sterling let him be and he drifted off into
a dreamless sleep.

   The motion of the SUV stopping snapped him awake.
He looked around, quickly becoming fully awake and alert. They had stopped just
outside of the freehold. It was relatively small and looked very rundown and
dirty. Numerous hand painted signs advertised booze and women with arrows
pointing into town. It looked like just the place to get what he needed.

   “Are you sure we want to do this?” Sterling asked
in concern.

   “Yeah, wouldn’t this be a good place to set a trap
for us?” Rora chimed in.

   “Nah.” Derek said dismissively. “How could they
possibly know we would end up here?”

   “They haven’t been having any trouble finding us so
far…” Rora pointed out sullenly.

   “And we have limited time.” Sterling argued.
“Stopping for a drink is going to make it difficult to get the core before the
auction.”

   “Stop whining and let’s get a drink.” Derek
demanded.

   Sterling sighed but put the SUV back into drive and
slowly headed into the freehold. Unlike previous ones Derek had been to, this
one had no guards, a wall, or even a fence. As they entered they could see that
it was only made up of three buildings surrounded by the ruins of the rest of
what had once been a small town. Dozens of bikes and dozens more vehicles of
various makes and models were parked haphazardly in front of the three intact
buildings.

   The buildings looked like they had been part of a
strip mall, and the main building looked like an abandoned grocery store. Large
windows, that were amazingly unbroken, lined the front of the buildings. Large
hand painted signs adorned the fronts of the buildings offering booze and women
with arrows pointing down to the entrances. Bikers, burners, and other scum
hung out around the buildings, smoking and drinking. All of them were armed and
there were no indications of guards of any kind.

   “This doesn’t look good, Derek.” Rora complained.

   “It’s perfect.” Derek explained. “None of this scum
will have any idea who we are AND we get to keep our weapons.”

   “What about the SUV?” Sterling asked cautiously.
“Won’t someone just steal our stuff while we are inside?”

   “No.” Derek said with a smile. “Honor among thieves
and all that.”

   “Really?” Rora said in surprise.

   “No.” Derek said with a laugh. “Scum doesn’t steal
from other scum because they are too afraid of the consequences. Just like a
wolf doesn’t steal a kill from another wolf. They don’t want to pick a fight.”

   He could tell they disagreed, but Sterling parked
the SUV in the lot outside the buildings along with the other vehicles. From
the condition and modifications to the vehicles, Derek could tell they belonged
to raiders and scavengers. This must be the neutral ground they all came to for
drinks and women. There wouldn’t be any law or government people here. Bounty
hunters would be even more unlikely to be here, since they would pose a threat
to these outlaws.

   Exiting the car he strolled inside the largest
building with Rora following. The bikers and other scum gave him long looks,
but looked away when he glared at them. He was obviously not a biker or burner,
didn’t have a raider clan tattoo, and was too well dressed to be a scavenger;
so he knew he would attract attention. The Born To Fight t-shirt would also
draw attention, but Derek figured that the shotgun on his back and the pistol
on his hip would dissuade casual attention. Most of these guys would naturally
follow Rule #6 and mind their own business.

   The inside of the building was just as dirty and
rundown as the outside. Rora gasped in disgust as she entered and saw the dimly
lit interior. Dirt, grease, beer, and other unidentifiable substances made the
floor sticky as they walked to an empty table. The table was filthy as were the
chairs and Rora choked back her gag reflex as they sat down at a table in the
corner. A harried looking older woman swung by and took their order for three
local brews before disappearing.

   Derek leaned back in his chair and examined the
place. It had definitely been a grocery store. He could still see the marks on
the floors where the shelves and checkouts had been. They had all been removed
and now tables filled the large open room in a random pattern. A long bar ran
along the back of the building where the deli and seafood counters would have
stood. Several armed bartenders continuously served drinks to outlaws and
waitresses.

   Scum of all kinds filled the tables and stood in
small groups around room. Derek noticed multiple biker gangs represented as
well as several raider clans. It was loud and raucous but peaceful at the same
time. There seemed to be some sort of unspoken agreement that everyone would
drink in peace. When their drinks came, he relaxed and drank slowly while
taking it all in. He missed the wasteland in all its rough and tumble glory. It
was so much simpler than the odyssey he had been on lately.

   Sterling joined them after a while. He had stayed
to secure the vehicle and still looked nervous when he sat down. The hacker
waved off Derek’s offer of a beer, so Derek took his with a shrug. If the man
didn’t want it, Derek wasn’t going to let it go to waste. He polished off both
beers and was looking for the waitress when he felt a presence behind him.

   Derek slowly rotated his chair until he was facing
the person invading his personal space. A large, smelly biker wearing only
boots, pants, and a cut stood over him with an angry look on his face. The
biker was relatively young, in his early twenties, and very muscular. Tattoos
and scars covered the exposed portions of his chest and arms and long dirty
blond hair spilled wildly down over his shoulders. Two other bikers stood
behind him backing him up.

   One was older and heavyset with a long, graying
beard but the other was just as young the leader and had shaved his head bald,
but still had a pointy beard. Both of the backup bikers fingered their weapons
nervously. The room slowly quieted as the other scum noticed the unfolding
encounter.

   “Can I help you?” Derek asked casually without
getting up.

   The lead biker frowned. He wasn’t used to people
not being afraid of him and Derek could tell it puzzled him. The biker glanced
at Sterling and Rora before addressing Derek.

   “You’re in our seats.” He snarled confidently.

   “I don’t see your name on them.” Derek said with a
laugh.

   Rora gave him a long stare, as if to tell him to
let it go. But Derek knew where this was going and that was exactly why they
were here. He knew someone would challenge him in a thoroughly clichéd attempt
to establish dominance over the new guy. And it was playing out exactly like it
did in bad action movies; which he had known that it would. People were so
unoriginal.

   The biker’s face got red at the disrespect he felt
he was being shown, and the other bikers started to fidget. Rora started to get
up but Derek waved her back. He needed this. He needed to prove to himself he
still had his mojo, that he was still a badass. Unfortunately for this biker
and his friends, they were going to be the guinea pigs. A crowd had started to
gather around them and Derek could see the anticipation on their faces.

   “Get out of our seats before I drag you out.” The
young biker snapped angrily.

   “Go ahead and try.” Derek said contemptuously.

   The biker couldn’t take it anymore and lunged
forward. He grabbed for Derek’s shirt with the intent of picking him up and
throwing him. But Derek swung his arms up and out, knocking the biker’s hands
away. Then he surged to his feet shoving the biker back. Startled, the biker
staggered back a few steps and they stood face to face glaring at each other.
Face to face, Derek could see the guy was slightly bigger than him, but nothing
he couldn’t handle.

   “Wait.” The heavyset biker suddenly called to his
comrade. “That’s the guy.”

   “What guy?” The angry biker replied, staring down
Derek the whole time.

   “The guy that beat Hercules.” The heavy set biker
informed him anxiously.

   The young biker looked Derek over carefully and
relaxed his posture slightly. “Sorry bro, no insult intended.” He suddenly said
with his hands raised in front of him.

   Derek was angry and gratified at the same time. He
wasn’t going to get a fight, but the guy was legitimately afraid of him. It was
enough of a boost to his ego that Derek instantly felt better. The battle with Deimos
had been a fluke. He had been overconfident and unprepared, next time would be
different.

   “He is also a wanted man with a million dollar
bounty on his head.” A confident female voice interrupted.

   The crowd parted to reveal a stylishly dressed
woman in a red leather trench coat, leggings, and high heeled boots. The only
nod to form over fashion was the black bulletproof vest she wore on her chest,
but even that looked good on her. Short bleached blond hair framed her smiling
face and made the bright red lipstick she wore stand out. All of the men in the
saloon eyed her with a mixture of lust, curiosity, and fear.