Zero Hour: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 2) (20 page)

BOOK: Zero Hour: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 2)
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He lifted a megaphone and began to speak into it.

“My name is Viper Rex, and these gentlemen are members of COBRA.” The men dispersed around the vehicles all nodded their heads.

“We are not here to cause you any harm. We come in peace!”

All of the men started to laugh and raised their weapons into the air.

“My message is a simple one. Do not resist, or you will die. This is our time now. You owe us!” As if on cue, the men raised their weapons and began to scan the trees and homes with their sights. Colton immediately looked to make sure his people were well hidden. Either they were, or they’d run off. He hoped it was the former.

“You will have five minutes to leave your homes and stand in the middle of the street. You will not be harmed unless you resist.” Colton knew he was lying based upon his observations from yesterday. Only the naïve would believe a criminal like this.

Colton leaned over to Wren and whispered, “You’re a political scientist, what does he mean by
you owe us
?”

“COBRA is the acronym for the Coalition of Blacks for Reparations in America. It was founded about the time the New Black Panther Party was organized in the eighties. Outwardly, the two organizations claim there is no legal relationship, but they appear to be part of a black nationalist movement seeking reparations for African descendants residing in the United States.”

“Reparations for what?” asked Colton as he kept an eye on Viper Rex.

“Slavery,” replied Wren.

The megaphone came to life with a blare of its horn. “Time’s up, white people. We are here for an apology that is long overdue. If you are unwilling to face us and issue a proper apology, then we will seek atonement from you. Today, we will take a small step toward squaring things for our African brothers!”

Some of the men began shouting and now, for added terroristic effect,  included firing their weapons into the air. Wren and Colton immediately ducked behind the protective wall. Colton was frightened, but they had no choice. They had to fight.

These people were no different from ideological terrorists like ISIS or the KKK. They were inherently racist and were using the horrific acts of slavery from one hundred fifty years ago to justify their criminal activities of today.

Colton had always wondered why this country couldn’t become color blind. Why must things be couched in terms of race?
First black this. Only white that
. He’d hoped this catastrophic event might reset that attitude in America. Obviously, he was wrong. Perhaps it was human nature for humans to default into their comfort zones and seek out like-minded individuals in a time of crisis. He doubted that was the case with Viper Rex and his gang of thugs. They were nothing but killers and thieves looking to take advantage of people’s weakened state courtesy of a solar flare.

Without giving it further thought, Colton rose up over the wall, fired, and immediately killed his first COBRA. His blood was red, just like Colton’s.

 

Chapter 34

DAY TWELVE

Noon, September 20

Sunnybrook Drive

Belle Meade, Tennessee

 

Faber knew that, unlike the movies, people didn’t stand out in the open and calmly fire at their enemy. When a person was being shot at, his primary concern was not to die. This was a basic survival instinct held by all human beings who were not suicidal maniacs. It took a real fool or tough guy to ignore bullets flying around their body while trying to return fire.

In the case of COBRA, there were no other options but to stand and fight. Sometimes, a hero was a coward that had been driven into a corner. COBRA was surrounded. To their credit, it took a great deal of bravery not to cower under their vehicles and beg for mercy. To their detriment, it was foolish to rely solely on the bravado of Viper Rex and not contemplate that someone might fight back at some point.

Bullets flew in all directions, mostly missing their mark. Going to the range and shooting a firearm in a non-stressed, relaxed atmosphere was far different than an engaged firefight. At the range, you had plenty of time to aim at the target, with a normal heart rate, relaxed mind, and ample time to steady your weapon.

Faber quickly realized that this uncontrolled environment elevated her heart rate, and stress hormones pumped adrenaline through her body in a way she’d never experienced before. Unlike the others assisting her, she’d trained using heart rate variability. At her best, she was only twenty percent accurate—within twenty feet! From her position crouched behind a stalled car, she was nearly two hundred feet from her target.

She tried to steady her nerves despite the distraction of Mrs. Andrews’s crying. Faber understood the need for the widow to lash out following the death of her husband, but this was not the time. To avoid an unfortunate accident, Faber relieved Mrs. Andrews of her handgun for everyone’s protection, including her own. Faber didn’t want to get shot by the distraught woman.

The last vehicle in the caravan started up, and the men jumped in as it pulled away. Immediately, Faber became comfortable with the new target—the Buick’s tires. Using her scoped Remington 700 target rifle, she fired two rounds and flattened the left-side tires.

From her right, the explosion of a shotgun rang out, killing the driver. The remaining men inside the vehicle returned fire, but they simply shredded the oak trees. They were trapped, and the neighbors at the Lynnwood intersection began to close in, indiscriminately firing into the Buick. After a steady barrage of gunfire, the occupants of the Buick were dead.

To her left, more volleys pelted the brick façade of the house next door. A scream could be heard, and then she saw the body of one of the residents roll down the concrete steps onto the driveway. An arm shot up above a hedgerow and fired into the air, striking the oak trees thirty feet in front of them. The scene resembled a firefight in the streets of Syria aired on the nightly news—gunmen using the
stick the weapon around the corner and let her rip
technique. It was a waste of ammo. And it gave away the shooter’s position. The hedgerow was no match for the return fire from one of the COBRAs’ AK-47s. At least thirty rounds peppered the boxwoods, instantly killing the man behind them.

Suddenly, the M35 roared to life and lurched forward. Bullets pelted the steel frame, but it continued. Faber fired three shots in an attempt to take out the tires, but missed her mark. Across the street, she saw Ryman and Wren give chase. Wren maneuvered his way through the trees toward the remaining car, which was stalled in the road.

Sunnybrook Drive was littered with bodies, but the M35 was making an escape with a driver and four men, who continued to pour rounds into the trees on both sides of Sunnybrook.

Across the street, Ryman worked his way through the trees, dodging gunfire that embedded into the trunks. Faber decided to join the fray. They were trying to escape and appeared to be headed for the back side of Harpeth Hall. She had to keep them in the kill zone. More importantly, she couldn’t see the leader—Viper Rex.
He can’t get away!

 

Chapter 35

DAY TWELVE

Early Afternoon, September 20

Sunnybrook Drive

Belle Meade, Tennessee

 

When Colton heard the big diesel engine fire up, he knew the M35 and Viper Rex were trying to escape. Colton inserted a full magazine into his Sub 2000 and instructed Wren to do the same with his handgun. Wren would make sure the stalled Caddy was secure and its pinned-down occupants were dealt with while Colton chased the head of the snake—Viper Rex.

To avoid being shot, a person dodged, took cover, and hid from the attacker. At the same time, a moving person was a difficult target to hit and was a terrible shot when returning fire. When taking cover, the idea was to remain behind something solid that would stop incoming bullets. Despite finding concealment, a person was still vulnerable to enemy fire, but decreased the chance of getting shot.

Colton made his way to the protective cover of an oak tree while Wren distracted the remaining COBRA marauders with several rounds of suppressive fire. Then it was Colton’s turn to open fire on the attackers. When they ducked for cover, Colton shouted, “Move,” indicating it was safe for Wren to break his cover position and run behind a tree. It was important for each man to maintain his suppressive fire while the other was on the move.

The two alternated this tactic as Colton raced toward the east in chase of Viper Rex and Wren moved to finish off the remaining two gunmen in the Cadillac.

A loud screech came from the area where the M35 turned down a narrow drive near the back of the Harpeth Hall complex. Curse words were emitted in all directions as the M35, overly broad for the driveway, got stuck between two trees. The driver and the passenger were wedged in.

Three gunmen jumped from the back of the truck and opened fire on the six members of the HPA to Colton’s right. Viper Rex hoisted himself over the left side and, after looking in all directions, began running through the side yard of the home toward the rear of Harpeth Hall.

Colton noticed Viper Rex was limping. He was wounded. With the COBRA men preoccupied to the right, Colton sprinted across the street in pursuit of his prey.

A shot rang out from his immediate left, startling Colton, which caused him to stumble and fall to the ground, bloodying both elbows. The driver’s side window of the truck shattered, and blood exploded on the inside of the windshield. Colton looked over and saw Faber reload her rifle. She joined his side.

“You okay, cowboy?” asked Faber, who kneeled down and kept her rifle ready. “There’s easier ways to take cover, you know.”

“Yeah, thanks,” said Colton as he dusted himself off. He instinctively ducked as bullets shattered the rear window of the M35’s cab, killing the passenger. “Should we go after him?”

“There are lots of things to consider,” started Faber, speaking louder as gunfire continued a hundred feet to their rear. “Does he have reinforcements? Do you know anything about the layout of the campus or the insides of the buildings?”

“I know enough to know this,” replied Colton, “if we don’t take him out, he’ll be back with a vengeance.”

“We could be running into the viper’s nest.”

“A wounded one, however. He was limping when he ran through the yards.”

“Lead the way, boss!” said Faber.

Colton had toured the Harpeth Hall campus six years ago when they were making a decision about Alex’s school. Naturally, the tour consisted of the most well-known buildings like Souby Hall, the Carell Library, and the Patton Visual Arts Center.

“This is just a hunch, but let’s try the gymnasium first,” started Colton. The two jogged through the trees until they found the parking lot for the Alumni Relations building. “The gym would have locker rooms, medical facilities, and food concessions.”

“I’ll watch our backs. Let’s go.”

“Follow me. We’ll take this path here to the rear of the gym.”

The two methodically made their way down a sidewalk through the woods. Viper Rex could be armed and waiting for them behind the thick underbrush or one of the hundred-year-old oaks. Colton walked heel to toe in an attempt to conceal the sound of his feet on the paved walkway.

The sounds of gunfire on the other side of the woods began to dissipate, which allowed Colton to hear the sound of a door closing up ahead. He stopped and immediately dropped to one knee, wincing from the earlier scrape.

“The rear door to the gym just closed. If he suspects we’ve trailed him, he’ll be waiting for us. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“What if I say no?” asked Faber.

“I’m goin’ in without you,” replied Colton boldly.

“Let’s not waste any time. Go!”

Colton raced across the loading dock area and made his way to the rear fire exit. He gave Faber another look and nodded. She drew her sidearm and nodded back.

“Blood,” said Colton, pointing at the ground.

Colton flung open the door, and the two entered the dark hallway in a low crouch. Colton helped the door close slowly. If the light spreading down the hallway didn’t draw attention, he didn’t want the slamming door to give away their presence.

Faber found Colton and whispered, “Stop and close your eyes for a moment. Then open them briefly and close them again. This will help your eyes adjust to the darkness.”

They heard a crash coming from within the gym. Suddenly, a lantern illuminated the space. Colton and Faber pressed their backs against the wall and listened. Someone was groaning. Then the ripping sound of an adhesive tape being unwound could be heard.

Colton whispered, “He’s been shot. Probably the leg. Follow me.”

They inched along the wall until they reached the opening to the gym. To their left and right were temporary bleachers, which could be moved on large caster wheels. The basketball court was filled with gym mats and pillows. Folding chairs and tables were set up throughout the building. This was where they slept.

Colton looked through the bleachers and saw Viper Rex sitting on the front row of the permanent seats. His leg was outstretched and bleeding profusely. He’d cut his pants leg off and was in the process of bandaging his gunshot wound to the upper thigh, using a tee shirt and duct tape.

His groans masked the sound of Colton and Faber’s approach. Using hand signals, Colton sent Faber to the far end of the gym to take a position with a clear line of sight to the head of COBRA. Colton moved behind the scorekeeper’s table located at the center of the court.

He glanced to his left and saw that Faber was just about in position, getting ready to train her rifle on the target. Colton could’ve opened fire from his position fifty feet away, but he had something to say first.

“You’re a real piece of work, pal,” said Colton calmly across the empty gym.

Caught by surprise, Viper Rex scrambled for his handgun and dove under the first-row seating. He responded angrily, “Shut up! My men will be back here any minute to put you in the grave!”

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