Five Roads To Texas (Book 10): Salvation Page 7

  “Always be aware. We are still surrounded by enemies. This is not home. Remember what happened to us at the border? Jae-Sung, you are lucky you speak English. That’s about the only reason you are still here. You can’t shoot worth a donkey's ass!” The Sergeant said in a low growl. “Now, get in the vehicle! Next time you forget where you are it will be a lot worse.

  Understand me?”

  “Yes Sergeant.”

  “Sergeant.” Won-Ji bowed as he turned and headed to the rear of the Tahoe.

  “Dae-Jung, you did well. Keep that up and soon you will be Sergeant. Understand?” “Yes, Sergeant.”

  “Very good. Let us get moving. We have an important mission ahead of us.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  DIDNT YOU GET THE FUCKING MEMO?

  Sparks, NV

  “Shit.” Zap whispered as he peered through a slit in the shuttered windows of the cinderblock building. Even with the slat covered fence separating the building from the road, he could make out at least a hundred of the infected as they ran down the street screaming and growling like the animals they’d become. With a shudder he turned back to face Dutch, who stood watching the newly repaired front door.

  “Must be over a hundred of them fuckers out there.” Dutch just nodded in response. “Carrying on like their teams just won some fuckin championship.”

  “I guess a little Roman goes a long way.” The former medic said lowly. “Just keep away from that window will ya. Those shitbirds get wind of us, that'll be it.”

  “You afraid your door won’t hold?” Zap grinned through yellow, stained teeth.

  “Yeah.” Dutch nodded. “I’m a medic not a carpenter. Remember how we lost the Lieutenant and Fassbender?” Zap put his hands on his hips and nodded. “Just don’t do anything to draw their attention, okay?”

  “Roger that.” Zap whispered as he roughly patted the other man on the shoulder.

  “Those assholes are just looking for more hot food. Shouldn’t be too long until they figure out that was it. They’ll eventually disperse if they don’t find any reason to stick around.”

  “Jeez Dutch. You’re starting to sound like an old lady. I get it. I get it.” “Do ya?” The other man said, trying to keep his voice down.

  “Yeah. I do.” Using his left hand, Zap pantomimed a zipping motion across his chapped lips then quickly turned and walked off to bother one of his other fellow mercenaries. Dutch just shook his head, glad Zap had gone on to annoy someone else. The former Army medic pressed his gloved hand firmly against the warm steel door he had just repaired. Dutch leaned into the door as if his added strength would help secure it against the horde of infected outside the fence line. During the swift course of the outbreak, he’d seen far too many atrocities committed by the gnarled hands of the infected. Despite being heavily armed, the thought of them being swarmed by the crazies that ran amok outside the fence line, made him shiver.

  “Dutch.” The medic jumped a little as Hobbs stepped up next to him. “Fuck.” Dutch said under his breath.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t scare me.” Dutch lied as he took a breath. “Caught me deep in thought, that’s all.” “Sure.” Hobbs grinned knowingly. “You leaning against the door is not going to do us any good. Those things would just run over you like you weren’t even there. You know? This whole thing was just supposed to be a quick in and out.”

  “Kinda like your wife.” Dutch said without an edge of humor in his voice. Hobbs deliberately ignored the other man’s dig. He chalked it up to the medic being pissed that he’d truly frightened him.

  “Well. Roman and Baz really screwed the pooch on this one. Anyway, Reese wants you to check out one of the Korean fellas, he looks like he might be going into shock. Guy dies before Reese wants him to, there will be hell to pay.”

  “Damnit.” Dutch ran an irritated hand across his face. “Sure, I’ll see what I can do.” “Thanks.” Hobbs waited until the medic took a few steps away, then he patted the door. “Not

  bad Dutch. Those shims at the bottom are a good touch, won’t stop them from getting in but it might slow ‘em down. You know, maybe you should think about switching careers.”

  “Fuck you Hobbs.”

  “We’re all fucked Amigo. Didn’t you get the fucking memo.” The bearded mercenary grinned as he spat out some chew. The medic just let out a defeated sigh as he turned away. Hobbs watched as Dutch disappeared into the interior of the building before he rested a gloved hand on the steel door, hoping to God the freaking thing would hold.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  PRINCESS

  Peach Springs, AZ

  Chewing on an MRE pound cake, Ram idly walked to a stack of big Pelican cases that were among the dozens warehoused inside the fake water district building. Unable to sleep and a bad feeling in his gut, Ram thought he would rummage through the piles of cases, looking for anything cool. At least it would keep his mind off his family for a while. Stuffing the rest of the cake in his mouth, Ram popped open one of the case lids and peered inside. He quickly reached into the deep case and pulled out a plastic wrapped, curved piece of ceramic body armor. He’d only seen plates like that at a gun show in Eureka, and they were extremely expensive. These were far superior to the vest the Department of Corrections issued to their transportation and tactical teams.

  “Damn.” Ramacher said through a mouthful of the dense pound cake. He set the front plate down on the floor next to him and shuffled through the other plastic wrapped armor for a back the same size. Finding one, he dropped it on top of the other then proceeded to find some plates for Jesse. Once Ram had found her size, he finished the pound cake and proceeded to check for any plate carriers. After a few minutes of searching, Ram located a smaller Pelican case filled with black Tactical vests that also served as plate carriers. He quickly unwrapped the ceramic plates and shoved them into the tac vest. Ram knew the case would take up too much room in the Durango, so he made up an extra vest for the both of them. Setting the spare gear aside, Ram pulled on his vest. The plate carrier fit pretty snug and to his surprise wasn’t very heavy. That would be perfect, especially if they were on the run. Which, they actually were.

  Ram walked over to where the Dodge SUV was parked and opened the back hatch. Pushing their meager remaining gear around, Ram made room for some of the new equipment. First he loaded in the open case of M4 rifles followed by as many cans of ammunition he could fit inside the rear of the vehicle. The former prison guard then picked through the cases of MRE’s being sure to grab out the better tasting ones. Almost as important as the food, he tossed in a case of toilet paper from one of the boxes. If he had to, he could trade a roll or two for something good. Never was any TP around when you need it these days. Pure gold as Jesse had called it.

  Ram also packed in six cases of water bottles followed by two of the medical kits. Stepping back, he noticed the rear end of the Dodge was starting to sag. They still had some room on the bike trailer for equipment, so that was good. Ram retrieved another pound cake from the open pile of MRE’s and took a bite.

  “Hey,” Jesse walked into the main area of the building, still half asleep, covering her shoulders with a wool blanket. “See you’ve been busy.”

  “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I might as well get something useful done.” Ram said chewing on the MRE dessert.

  “Uh-huh.” Jesse yawned. “Careful how many of those things you eat Ram. You won’t be able to shit.”

  “Thanks.” Ram took another bite. “I’m eating my stress away, Jesse.”

  “Well, stop.” She walked over to the rear of the vehicle and slowly assessed her partner's packing job. “Not bad Ram.”

  “Let me know what else you want. There’s a little room left plus some on the trailer.” “How about a couple more TP and a pair of boots and some clothes?”

  “Sounds good. I don’t want to have to steal the shoes off a dead guy.” Ram shuttered. “Bad ju ju.”

  “What?�
� Jesse frowned. “No, Ram. I’m sure it won’t come to that, ya dork. There’s probably a crap load of places along the way where you could find a pair of shoes without tearing them off a corpse. Besides, that’s gross.”

  “True but you never know.” Ram said as he walked over to the open case of boots. “Too bad we can’t take one of the coffee makers with us.”

  “Right? I’ll grab all the bags of coffee.” Jesse shivered a little. “A hot cup of coffee does sound good about now, you want some?”

  “Most definitely. Please, and hell grab one of those coffee maker anyways. I'll make room.” Ram pulled a pair of boots out of the pelican case and dropped them down by his feet. “What size do you wear again?”

  “Six. Look, I’ll start the coffee then I’m going to take another shower. Who knows when we’ll have another chance.”

  “Yeah,” Ram nodded as he dug through the boots looking for another pair of six. “You do that. You get kinda rank fast.”

  “Ha.” Jesse shook her head. “You wish.”

  “Ya, I don’t want to be stuck riding with a stinky ass partner. Go take a shower princess.” “Princess.” Jesse hated being called that, it always reminded her of one of her many shitty Foster parent’s favorite names for her. “You dig hard enough, maybe you’ll find yourself a pair of New Balance, isn’t that what all you old guys wear?”

  “Jesse,” Ram stopped and hung his head, suddenly remembering all the times his daughter had teased him about wearing the brand notorious for being dad shoes. “You're beginning to sound like my daughter. Just make us some coffee and go take a shower. We need to get a move on.” “No worries Ram. I’ll be quick. Just miss being clean.”

  “New World problems.” Ram chuckled. “Hey, I found a couple backpacks in one of the crates. I say we load ‘em up like our own bug out bags. I’ll load us up some extra magazines too.” “Sounds good Pops. Why don’t you do that. Don’t forget to stuff a couple rolls of TP in them.

  I’m gonna go and use up this hot water.”

  “Pops.” Ram shook his head as he walked back over to an open case of toilet paper. He pulled out a roll and squashed it together then easily removed the cardboard tube “Pops? Really?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  HEY BRUCE LEE!

  Sparks, NV

  Major KI-Moon watched as Captain Sang fell into a full-blown seizure. The young soldier started to shake and roll around, even foaming at the mouth. The North Korean commander, hands duct taped to the front, rolled onto his right side trying to desperately move out of the other soldier’s way. Once he was far enough away from the junior officer, he began shouting for help. After what seemed like a few long seconds, two of the mercenaries burst through the storage room door.

  “Help!” the Major shouted in English. “He’s sick!” “Quiet.” Grace said low and menacing. “Shut up.” “He’s sick.” KI-Moon continued.

  “Fuck.” The other man, Ridley, cursed. “Go tell Reese.”

  “Copy that.” Grace said. giving the seizing North Korean a quick look before heading back out the door.

  “Tell him to shut up.” Ridley told the officer. “Get him to shut up or I will strangle his ass. Got that?”

  “He’s sick.” KI-Moon just shrugged. “Sick.”

  “Aw, fuck it.” Ridley turned from the officer and stepped over to where Sang was having his seizure. The mercenary jabbed him hard in the side with a booted foot. “Hey, Bruce Lee, shut the fuck up. You’re freaking out is gonna draw in a bunch of hungry skin bags.” Suddenly, Ridley felt a tug at the scabbard on his hip that held his Kabar knife. Before he could grab at the handle or turn, he felt a sharp pain in the side of his neck as KI-Moon expertly shoved the blade up and under his skull into his brain. This was all done within seconds. Ridley let out a low, wet gurgle then started to drop to the floor. As the man collapsed, Captain Sang caught his heavy, limp body and quietly laid it on the floor.

  During his capture by Reese and his men, KI-Moon had retrieved a glass shard from one of the destroyed monitors. The Major had been able to hide the sharp piece of glass in his uniform before they had bound him up. Now, alone with Captain Sang, the two had plotted their escape from the band of mercenaries that had overtaken their outpost.

  KI-Moon had been able to cut his bonds then Sang’s. The younger officer would fake a seizure, luring the guards in. Actually, the Major hadn’t thought their escape would be this easy.

  “You okay?” KI-Moon asked the Captain as he quietly shut the storeroom door.

  “Yes, Major.” Sang nodded as he grabbed up Ridley’s Glock handgun and the four magazines the mercenary had stuffed in his tac vest. KI-Moon bent down and wiped the bloody Kabar on the dead man’s pant leg.

  “Major?” Sang asked, offering the senior officer the weapon. KI-Moon shook his head, satisfied with the knife for the time being.

  “The window,” The Major pointed to a shuttered window just big enough for them to squeeze out of. “Quickly before they come back.”

  Captain Sang nodded, still in pain from the various knife wounds that Reese and Foz had inflicted on him, he hurried over to the window, the ledge was a just a few inches out of his reach. He desperately looked around for something to stand on and found nothing. KI-Moon was an inch shorter than he was so the Major wouldn’t even have been able to reach the ledge of the window either.

  “Hurry.” KI-Moon said as he pressed himself against the door. The Captain thought of asking the Major for a boost up but then thought better of it. Frantically glancing around the room he saw Ridley’s unmoving corpse and had an idea. His wounds burning, Sang quickly drug the big man’s body underneath the window sill. The dead American would give him the extra couple of inches he needed to climb up and out the window. Standing on the dead man, he swiftly drew the shutters open. The Captain quickly unlocked the window, and trying to stifle his grunts of pain, pushed it open. The warm evening air rushed in and peacefully caressed his face. Turning back to KI-Moon, Sang gave him a thumbs up.

  “Go!” The Major waved him on. “Hurry!”

  Without hesitation, Sang pulled himself up and out the window. Landing on his feet with a soft grunt, the injured Captain raised the pistol up to his chest and glanced around for any of the mercenaries or infected. Seeing the area around them was clear of any threats, he looked back up at the open window. The Major, with unexpected ease, slipped through the window and quietly jumped down to the ground, landing in a fighting position.

  “Clear?” He whispered to the Captain who just nodded in response. The North Korean officers found themselves in a narrow alleyway on the far side of the building that faced away from Nugget Avenue and the bands of infected that were currently inhabiting it.

  “Major?”

  “The Humvees are on the other side. The American dogs are all still hiding in the outpost, no one’s out here to stop us.”

  “The infected ones?” Sang asked as he put a hand up to where his shoulder had been sliced by the sadistic Russian. The bandaged wound was throbbing something awful.

  “We drive through them, Captain.” KI-Moon smiled. “Better to risk that then stay here with these pigs!” The Major spat. “Trust me Sang. We also need to alert Command we’ve been compromised.”

  “Major.” The Captain nodded.

  “Besides Sang, we found the package we have been looking for. Once Sergeant Park captures him, there will be promotions for all. Now, follow me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  CAN YOU HOLD YOUR MUD?

  NK Outpost, Sparks NV

  “Ah, shit!” Grace stopped in the doorway of the supply room and stared over at Ridley’s bloody corpse. Dutch stood behind him glancing around the empty room for any signs of the North Koreans. “Ridley!” The former Army medic pushed past the black mercenary and ran over to the body on the floor. Dutch could tell by the traumatic head and neck wound that Ridley was dead. The bearded man knelt down next to him and felt for a pulse just in case. Nothing.

  �
��Fuckers escaped!” Grace had his Glock out and pulled into his chest. “Fuckers!” “What the hell is going on?” Reese asked as he entered the room followed by Hobbs.

  “Fucking Chinamen killed Ridley and escaped out the damn window. We need to get them!” “No.” Reese said quietly as he put a gloved hand in the middle of the bigger man’s chest. “There’s still a shit ton of meat sacks running around out there like it’s fucking cannibal Mardi Gras.”

  “But Ridley...” Grace shook his head. “They killed him, man.”

  “Yeah.” Reese glanced over to where Dutch knelt next to the dead man. “He fucked up and I’m not sacrificing the rest of us for it.”

  “Reese…” Grace started to move past him. The mercenary leader frowned and shoved him back with an iron hand.

  “We do nothing. You understand? You fuck up, this is what you get.” “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Good. Ridley screwed the pooch. Those two Korean dirt bags aren’t going anywhere but into a mob of hungry fuck heads. We need to stay here and keep our shit together.” He looked around at the three mercenaries. “Can you do that, can you hold your fucking mud?”

  “Yeah.” Grace said, reholstering his handgun.

  “This is fucked up.” Dutch said as he stood up and quietly closed and locked the window. “Those two invading pricks aren’t our concern anymore.” Reese crossed his arms. “As soon as the infected pass, we will grab the rigs and head out to Arizona. This score will make us all very rich men, so don’t forget that.”