Bitter Cold Apocalypse 2 (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller) Read online

God, I hoped we didn’t get over there to find them all dead. I hoped we got there in time to do something about it if they were in trouble.

  34

  By the time we got into the main hall, Bob and Sean had opened the door on the other side and already pushed a number of prisoners of their own through the opening. I could see them on the far end of the hall, shoving people into the hallway and still shouting and shooting as they went, taking down any of Randall’s men that were still putting up a fight.

  At least most of Bob’s fighters were still alive, then, and I breathed a quick sigh of relief at the idea that they’d been able to get everything under control and the gunfire had died down.

  This hall was full of tents and supplies, just like the other room had been, though I could still see the door into the front room down the main walkway between the rows of tents, so it was at least slightly more organized.

  “Push forward!” I shouted to my people. “Get everyone out of the tents! Meet Bob and Sean and their people in the middle of the room!”

  Our group got into action, and we shoved forward, shouting orders and constraining our enemies as we went. This room was different, as the men in here had obviously heard what was going on in the other rooms and had time to get out of their tents and prepare.

  But the weapons had evidently all been in the room we’d first cleared, because no one in here seemed armed.

  And that meant they still didn’t have any defense against us. What was more, they seemed rational enough to realize that they couldn’t fight back, and would die if they tried. For the most part, they went with their hands up, their faces registering their surrender.

  “These aren’t Randall’s men,” I muttered as Marlon and I strode forward. “He would never have trained men to give up like this. And why were most of these men unarmed? Who the hell are they?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” he replied, taking a moment to push through a tent and make sure there wasn’t anyone in there.

  And that was a question that would need answering. Because I didn’t know where Randall had acquired these men—or the weapons or supplies that seemed to come with them—but I had a very strong feeling that it was going to become important. Soon.

  At that point, the cuffed men we were pushing in front of us suddenly ran into the men that Bob and his company were pushing in front of them, and the entire mass of humanity stopped moving. We’d reached our goal. We had our prisoners, and we had them all in one place, with a few more flowing in from the first room we’d occupied, guarded by the last of our fighters.

  But I’d been watching carefully, and I knew that we were still missing someone. Randall wasn’t in here with his men—if these even were his men. He’d been somewhere else—and as long as he was free, he was dangerous. We might have avoided a battle. So far.

  Something in my gut told me that Randall was going to make sure we had one, though.

  “Marlon, keep an eye on these prisoners,” I said quickly. “I have questions to ask them. But first, I’m going to go find Randall.”

  Before he could reply, a few windows burst, and in came cylindrical objects, skittering across the floor, spewing smoke. Moments later, a haze filled the room, and gunshots rang out. Were my people firing on the prisoners? I found that hard to believe as they’d all been bound and defenseless.

  No, the gunfire wasn’t coming from my people—it was coming from outside the building.

  And it was quite obvious who was laying on this new attack: Randall and the rest of his men.

  I knew this had to have been some sort of trap. And we were right in the middle of it.

  From the other end of the building, the section where my group had started the invasion, I heard a couple gunshots followed by a rumbling noise. Like a herd of elephants heading straight toward us. A freight train coming down the tracks…

  And then the entire room exploded in chaos.

  35

  Gunshots echoed in the room I was in with Marlon and the rest of our fighters. I could barely see through the smoke, though it seemed as if the prisoners we held in the middle of the room had dropped to the ground to avoid getting struck by the bullets that careened through the hall like angry insects buzzing to and fro.

  As armed men stormed the room from the double-wide door that led into the first room we’d cleared, I aimed my gun toward the door—a choke point for Randall’s incoming men—and pulled the trigger.

  A silhouette of a man falling told me that I’d hit my target.

  I adjusted my aim and fired again. And again.

  Around me, my own men were doing the same, staunching the flow of enemy combatants. For a split second, I thought about how we’d been duped. Randall and his best fighters had been somewhere else in town, knowing that we’d descend upon Town Hall. Knowing that we’d fallen right into his trap. The men we’d captured…who were they? Random refugees that had stumbled into town and were given a place to lay their heads? Had they unwittingly been used as a decoy? Was Randall really that…nefarious?

  I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and pulled the trigger a few more times, dropped the empty magazine, and slammed another one home.

  As a group, we laid down heavy fire on the invading force, but they kept coming, flowing into the room and then quickly finding cover. How many fighters did Randall have?

  Motion off to my right, down past a line of tents. A door to the outside flung open and a few men poured in. Had our people out there been overrun? It was, in fact, out there where I’d heard the first of the gunfire. If it hadn’t been my own men, retreating, it had to be…

  A bear of a man emerged in the open door.

  Randall.

  I did a double-take. It was really him.

  Crouched down near the doorway, he glanced in my direction, leering at me with the arrogance I remembered so well from his cabin.

  Looking as though he’d won the day.

  But the fight was far from over…

  He raised his weapon, and I lunged to get out of the way, finding concealment behind a tent.

  The bullet cut through the mesh fabric and found its home a few feet from me. My heart thudded in my chest. That had been a close one...

  Staying crouched down, I hurried to the other side of the tent. I heard the unmistakable voice of Randall, who was calling out orders to his men to continue laying down heavy fire on my people.

  A volley of fire erupted from my own fighters, followed by yells of pain and agony on both sides, as Randall’s men shot back in a frenzy.

  Inching out from concealment, I took aim at Randall and pulled the trigger.

  The shot went wide, slamming into a section of wall just to the right of his shoulder, and he was quick to find cover a moment later. He was nimble for a man of his stature.

  Randall hollered out more orders, but it was clear that his men were up against a competent force. The people of Ellis Woods weren’t well trained, but they were fighting for their town and their families—and their very survival.

  Then, I saw something I thought I’d never see. Randall rushed from behind his cover and hurried toward an open door that led into another part of the building. Away from the fight that he’d been leading his men in.

  He’d directed his men to fight until their final breaths escaped their lips, but he was going to run?

  What kind of a leader was this?

  One word came to mind. Coward.

  “I’m coming for you,” I muttered, feeling more than a little appalled that he was going to get away.

  Because this particular man? He was mine. I’d been waiting for this since he threatened my wife—and I wasn’t going to be running through the forest trying to get away from him this time.

  Still hunched over, I raced along the far wall of the room. I fired off a few shots at Randall’s men who were in my path, taking them down before they could do any harm to me or my people. Off to my left, the firefight was still in full effect.

  I spotte
d Marlon, shouting commands.

  And then I heard him screaming my name.

  “John! Get to Randall!” he shouted, pointing toward the door I’d seen the bear-man go through. “I’ve got this hall; you take care of cutting off the head!”

  Cutting off the head. I knew exactly what that meant. I had to cut off the head of the snake that had coiled itself around the town of Ellis Woods. And though I was hesitant to leave my people here, I did trust Marlon to look after them. If anyone could lead them through the battle they were currently in, it was him.

  I had a bigger, more bear-like fish to fry.

  I turned back to the doorway and hurried toward it. Randall couldn’t have gone far. And something told me that he wasn’t exactly fleeing. He was expecting me to come after him.

  In fact, I was willing to bet that he was actually counting on it—and that it was what he actually wanted.

  But I was no fool. I’d been in the service for far too long to make it easy for him.

  So I reloaded as I stayed crouched down, and then in the next moment, I was rushing through the doorway.

  Because Randall and I had an appointment to keep. And I was looking forward to seeing the expression on his face when I finally got him where I wanted him.

  36

  The moment I got to that doorway, I found myself racing down a long, windowless corridor, then I passed carefully through another door into a large room, similar to the one I’d just been in. My eyes were up and snapping to the left and right as I tried to find the man who had started all of this. The man who had built the cabin that ended up saving Angie and me—but who had then decided that he needed to kidnap Angie and use her as a hostage against Bob, and had allowed his cousins to try to kill me in the process.

  The guy who had then been responsible for us fleeing through the woods when Angie was in no shape to travel. The guy whose presence had led to that precipitous slide down the river—and her descent into the water.

  The guy who had nearly led to us dying in the wilderness.

  By God, I wanted to get my hands on him. I’d been waiting to get my hands on him for days. And it was even more important now, because I knew without a doubt that this particular battle wasn’t going to be over until I had either taken him prisoner or killed him. Those men in the other room might’ve been outnumbered by my people, but they were obviously still willing to fight.

  I needed to get Randall out of the way and, hopefully, take that fight out of them.

  Even more than that, though, I wanted him under my power. I wanted to know what the hell was going on here. Why he had so many men and weapons, and where they’d come from.

  I surveyed the room. There were a few tents, lined up in rows. But there didn’t appear to be anyone in here—except for Randall, who I knew had to be hiding somewhere. A quick scan around revealed a barricaded emergency exit, and there were no other doors leading to other sections of the building, other than the way I’d entered.

  But why would Randall go into a room in which there was only one exit?

  Though I couldn’t understand this man’s actions, I knew all I needed to know—he was here, and I was going to find him.

  I crept through the first row of tents and came to a quick halt, my gun up in front of me as I turned slowly one way and then the other.

  “Where are you, Randall?” I shouted out. “I know you’re in here, and you know I’m going to catch you. Come out and let’s do this like real men.”

  Bang!

  The tent next to me shook as a bullet ripped right through it, and I dove in the other direction, taking cover behind an enormous metal stove.

  “Whoever’s standing at the end of this will be the real man!” I heard him scream. “Nothing decides how worthy you are like winning in a fight to the death!”

  “A fight to the death,” I muttered, jumping to my feet. “If that’s what you want, buddy, then that’s what I’ll give you.”

  I took off in the direction of his voice, but I moved carefully, keeping my weight on the balls of my feet and dodging from object to object, trying to keep them between me and where I thought he was. They weren’t going to offer me cover from the bullets, but they would keep his eyes off me.

  And if he couldn’t see me, he didn’t know where to aim.

  “What the hell is going on here, Randall?” I asked, wondering if he was one of those bad guys who liked to talk about exactly what they were doing and why. Given his love for bragging, I suspected that he was exactly that sort of guy. “Where did you get all these men? All this equipment?”

  Another bullet, but this one went wide and hit something several tents away.

  Importantly, that tent flew backward. Which meant that he was still ahead of me. I was still heading in the right direction. I dodged to my right and sprinted down the narrow aisle that had been left between the tents, counting on him to either be reloading or watching the main aisle instead of this one.

  After four tents, though, I stopped again—and listened.

  I could hear him in the distance, I realized. He was breathing heavily, like he’d been running or lifting something heavy, and there was something panicked about it. Or…excited.

  “You have no idea how deep you’re in, boy,” he muttered. “No idea who you’re up against.”

  “Then tell me,” I answered, making sure my voice was loud enough for him to hear it over the heaving of his own breath.

  I didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but it sounded like he was in pain. Had he been shot? Had a stray bullet struck him when he’d rushed into this room before? It was the only thing I could think of, and though it made sense, it was also obvious that whatever had happened, it wasn’t slowing him down enough.

  He might be wounded, but he was still dangerous. Still shooting. I had to find a way around his hiding place so I could come up behind him. Avoid the guns and surprise him.

  His voice boomed: “Where do you think I got all those men? Where do you think I got the weapons? Hell, where do you think I’ve been getting them for the last three years?”

  Three years. Interesting. “I have no idea,” I called back, creeping forward again. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  There was a long pause, and I froze in place. Was he moving? Had I misjudged where he was? I leaned up against the tent in front of me and peeked around it, listening for the sound of his breathing. Trying to figure out how far away he could possibly be at this point.

  But all I heard was silence.

  Shit. What was going on over there? Had he died?

  Then I heard a deep, shuddering breath, and realized that he wasn’t dead. But he was definitely suffering. And he was only about twenty feet ahead of me, if I was judging the distance right. If I made my way several tents to my right, and then moved toward the wall, and he stayed still, I’d be able to come at him from the right rather than straight-on.

  If I got lucky, and he was facing the spot where he thought I still was, then I’d be able to get to him before he even knew I was there.

  “Where’s your friend?” he asked suddenly. “Marlon? He tell you he killed my wife?”

  In pain and possibly also delirious, I thought suddenly. Because this fell under the heading of rambling. And lying.

  “He told me about her,” I allowed, standing stock still. “He also told me that she had chemicals in her blood that no human should have had access to. And that there was nothing he could do for her.”

  I darted to the right after that, moving on my toes and as quickly as I could go without making noise. Once I’d passed three tents, I turned left and started moving toward the wall, going more slowly now that I knew I was getting closer to him.

  “He killed her!” Randall shouted out, his voice now furious. “He’s lying about her having chemicals in her blood!”

  He fired again—in the wrong direction—and I ducked out of instinct, my hands going up over my head.

  Terrific. He was furious and he had loaded guns, and he wa
s already crazy. This wasn’t exactly the sort of person I wanted to be stuck with. But at least he was firing in the wrong direction—which meant he had no idea where I was. Or rather…he thought he knew. He was wrong.

  “Marlon will kill your woman, too, if you’re not careful! He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Doesn’t care about anything but his mission. He’s dangerous, John. You can’t trust him.”

  Ah, now we were in classic trying-to-convince-me-not-to-believe-in-my-friends territory. A beloved interrogation technique. Only he wasn’t very good at it. And I knew something he didn’t know.

  I wasn’t going to be playing that game. He was expecting me to interact with him. He was giving me the high-stakes statements that he thought would get a response.

  But I knew the game, and I knew how to win it. I also knew that I wasn’t going to be responding to him, since that would give away my position.

  And I was now only one row of tents from him.

  I got to the last tent from the wall of the room and crouched down, listening closely. If I was right, then he was behind the tent on the main aisle. Two tents away from me.

  “Do you hear me?” he shouted. “That man is not your friend! I thought you would know better about picking friends, John! I thought you were supposed to be good at your job! Thought you were supposed to be one of the best at reading people! Turns out you’re no better than me, eh?”

  Right, that was a whole lot to unpack, in terms of him knowing things that I didn’t think anyone outside of the military knew, but I’d think about that later.

  I contemplated my next moves. I could fire toward where I thought he was, though that would do one of two things: give away my position or possibly kill him. At this point, I wouldn’t have minded if he were dead, though he was much more valuable to me alive.

  I heard another shuddering breath, then, and realized it was now or never. I had to make my move.

  I crouched down, tensed my muscles, and darted out from behind the tent, running right for where I thought Randall was hiding.