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Authors: Shawn Chesser

In Harm's Way (24 page)

BOOK: In Harm's Way
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Logan stayed in Salt Lake and split his free time between service for the LDS church and preparing for the unrest that he knew was inevitable. Before the outbreak Logan and Lev devoted countless hours stocking the compound with food, weapons, and ammunition. The property was tucked away, hidden and secure, surrounded by dense woods nearly fifty miles from Salt Lake City. At least that’s what they thought.

This latest incursion, number three, had happened earlier during the day. Luckily the game camera that the trespassers tripped captured grainy images of both men and instantly relayed the footage, via radio frequency, back to the security center inside the compound. The men in the picture wore woodland camouflage and were armed with AR style rifles
--
not deer guns. After calling a quick meeting and weighing everyone’s opinion, the consensus in the compound was that the two interlopers were not locals out hunting game (or zombies for that matter) they were
more likely
bad guys with equally bad intentions. The group also made a bold decision to turn the tables on the men and make them become the hunted.

A six-person team was quickly assembled, kitted out, and set out after their quarry.

***

Hunting cabin three miles from the Eden Compound  

Logan keyed the mic on the two-way Motorola. “
Levdahl... any movement in the cabin on your side
?”


Negative... all quiet over here
,” Lev replied. He was hunkered down with a Les Baer Tactical Recon bolt action sniper rifle chambered in .300 Win Mag. The scope on the rifle allowed him to cover the west side of the building from three hundred fifty yards, seeing everything clearly through the high powered optics down to the gauge stamped on the nail heads holding the plank siding on.

Logan looked to his right where Chief was positioned with his M4 trained on the cabin. Chief, sensing the scrutiny flashed thumbs up. For some reason, yet to be divulged by the Native American, he insisted his fellow survivors call him Chief. He was the most level headed person among the twenty
-
two people that called the compound home and by far the oldest among them.

Peering over his shoulder to his left he could barely see Jamie. She wore a ghillie suit which was made up of various pieces of fabric and organic matter affixed to her clothing; it served to break up her slender profile and helped her blend in perfectly with the surrounding foliage. The barrel of
her Winchester Model 70
was also wrapped like her suit and pointed towards the rustic cabin. Jamie had been reluctant at first to get on board with her friend Logan’s prepping lifestyle but as soon as TSHTF she was all in.

Lev looked at his watch and keyed the radio. “Logan... Lev here. I suggest we give them fifteen more minutes and then I want to make a little commotion and try to draw them out. They’re definitely novices based on the trail they left for us to follow... not to mention the lack of noise discipline. Maybe they’re getting it on in there. You and I know how the man/woman ratio is skewed these days. It seems like I’m in Alaska or some shit.”

“Copy that... and thanks for the visual, buddy,” Logan said as he checked his Timex. Then he stared at the Chief until he got his attention. He opened and closed his hand three times and then tapped his watch. The Chief nodded. Next, he got Jamie’s attention and repeated the same silent message. Because the Motorola two
-
way radios were in short supply and weren’t as user friendly as he would have liked, Logan made a note to self to try and acquire real communications gear, especially since they were now utilizing them in a tactical capacity.

***

Ten minutes had passed and the hunting cabin was still quiet as a mortuary. Lev motioned at Gus
, a thirty-eight-year-old Salt Lake City Sheriff, flashing him an open hand. Gus nodded, shouldering his Mossberg.

Sampson, a forty-year-old ski instructor from Park City, Utah, received the same silent update from the team leader. He grinned, flashing his newly whitened teeth at Lev and then shouldered his AR
-
15, aiming it at the front door.

Logan first introduced Lev and Sampson during a ski trip to Park City before the outbreak. When Logan informed Lev that the ski instructor was one of the few that would be welcome at the compound in Eden, Lev immediately balked, calling bullshit on Logan’s judgment and before they were finished skiing that day, Lev and Logan decided it would be best if they just agreed to disagree. There was even a small wager placed on whether Sampson would be a no show in the event of a catastrophe.

The always meticulously groomed Sampson was the compound’s post-apocalyptic metrosexual. It pained him to do so, but Lev had to admit he was wrong when the guy turned up at the compound two days after the outbreak, alive and without a scratch on him. Over the following days he had proven himself a productive member of the group and had also taught Lev a valuable lesson: never judge a book by its cover.

Logan set the binoculars aside and spoke into the radio. “
Two minutes
.”

Lev responded with two silent clicks of his radio, put his rifle down, and drew the Beretta from its shoulder holster. Then, pulling himself off of the ground, he silently worked his way towards the cabin while remaining inside the tree line.

Lev was about to sprint the last thirty feet from cover to the cabin door when the sound of a laboring engine reached his ears. He pancaked to the ground and quickly low crawled to cover behind a clump of fiddler ferns growing from the center of an old deadfall.

“Change of plans. What do you propose we do now?” Logan asked, sounding concerned.


Observe
,” Lev succinctly replied over the two-way radio.

The growling of the engine grew louder.

Looking at Logan, Gus stabbed two fingers towards his eyes and then pointed at the gravel road indicating he was aware of the approaching vehicle.

Logan tightened his grip on the M4 and made sure the selector was on fire. His attention was divided between the front of the cabin and the washed-out goat trail masquerading as a road where he knew the vehicle would eventually emerge. He was certain that the two men they had tracked to the cabin could be dealt with fairly easily, but the approaching vehicle changed the odds instantly.

“Watch the road... I’ll cover the door,” Lev said as the door began to open.

Logan watched the woods disgorge a dirty white Toyota Land Cruiser followed closely by a silver 4Runner. Both vehicles were loaded to the headliner with supplies and sat very low on their springs. Even though the dealer plates were still attached to the front and back of the two new Toyotas, they appeared anything but
--
their body panels were dented and dinged, and it looked like a thousand demons had sharpened their claws on the trucks’ paint. Congealed blood and other fluids painted the front and sides of both vehicles adding to their beat up appearance. Two men occupied each truck. Logan couldn’t be sure if they were armed or not from his vantage point, but he had to assume that they were.

Making eye contact with Chief, Gus displayed four fingers, relaying how many newcomers they would be dealing with.

Coinciding with the SUVs’ noisy entrance into the clearing, the door of the cabin creaked open, and one of the camo-clad trespassers emerged carrying a black shotgun. He was of medium build and had a long billy goat beard and a gray ponytail snaking out from under his woodland camo boonie hat. He walked the length of the porch exhibiting a slight limp; Lev guessed that the man couldn’t have been a day under fifty. With agility that belied his decrepit looks, the man jumped down off of the low porch and, with a huge grin spreading across his face, greeted the arriving men with backslaps and handshakes; judging by the spirited conversation that ensued the apocalypse must have been treating them kindly.

“We went from two tangos to six just like that... what do you think?” Lev whispered.

“That’s a game changer,” Logan said into the Motorola. “Both of the passengers have a sidearm and I can see at least one carbine propped up inside the 4Runner... on the passenger’s side. I think we should lay low and then bug out when they aren’t looking.”

Lev thought it over for a second. “I like our odds... but given the unknown variables... I’d have to agree with you.”
What would Gus do?
Lev thought. The sheriff was too far away to consult so Lev decided to trust his gut.
We need better communications gear
, his inner voice chided.

The cabin door creaked again as the second trespasser emerged and joined his buddies near the 4Runner. The kid’s boonie hat was pulled down low over a
snarled
mop of blonde hair; he wore the same woodland camo as the other man and an AK-47 dangled freely from his shoulder. He looked like a baby-faced teen and the youngest of the group by far.

Lev had the best position and took it all in. He still struggled whether they should be taken out now or if live and let live was the best policy. He knew that sooner or later these guys were going to come snooping around the compound again and then they would have to be dealt with. If it were his decision he would take them out here and now, but it wasn’t his to make alone. Logan had stressed from day one that all of the decisions that were made concerning the wellbeing or day-to-day workings of the compound would be handled democratically. So Lev waited.

The 4Runner driver poked his head into the Land Cruiser and pushed a button somewhere. The rear hatch opened automatically revealing two bound and hooded women. Baby Face grabbed the nearest woman and violently yanked her out of the cargo area, throwing her to the ground head first. Before he could grab ahold of the second prisoner she shimmied out of the truck under her own power and stood unsteadily, using the rear bumper for support. The men backed away silently and formed a loose circle around the prisoners. The upright woman’s head swiveled back and forth inside the burlap sack. She took a few tentative steps and stumbled around blindly before the bearded man knocked her to the ground with a vicious hockey check.

Logan didn’t like where this was heading. “We have to hit them while the women are down.”

Lev whispered, “I was thinking the same thing. I left my rifle behind. I only have my pistol... so you’re going to have to initiate.”

The driver of the 4Runner was an extremely skinny twenty-something with an upturned nose and closely set eyes. A soiled wife-beater that swished when he walked hung loosely over his ratty cutoff blue jeans; the man looked like one of the “presumed innocent until guilty” stars on the reality TV show
Cops
. He crouched between the two women with his face hovering, menacingly, inches from their hooded heads. “You two ain’t going nowhere... we’re your new
friends...”
He paused to let the words sink in before continuing, “And you both better get used to it. We’re going to be
friends
for life.”

“Where did you find them?” Baby Face asked the man in the wife-beater.

“They were looting
our
Costco when we rolled up.”

“Well let’s see what we have. Please tell me you brought us some Ginger and a little Mary Ann,” the
gimpy man
said as he pulled off both of
their
hoods.

“Holy hell,” Wife-Beater blurted. “One of ‘em must have been bit and turned on the way here.”

The zombie lunged. Only the thin strip of silver duct tape covering its mouth saved Baby Face from being bitten.

Frantically the other woman rolled away from the writhing creature.

“Did the other one get bit too?” the driver of the Land Cruiser, a terribly overweight middle aged man, inquired.

Baby Face looked up dumbly and said, “I don’t know.”

“Well gawdammit... check the bitch for bites,” the fat man barked.  “And then check and see if the other one is still warm...”

“Eww Chuckie... you ain’t goin’ there again are you?” Baby Face said, revulsion showing on his face.

Chuckie smiled, displaying his lack of front teeth. “We’ll see,” he said with a wink. “If I get in the mood who knows what might happen.”

Lev wished he hadn’t been close enough to hear the last exchange. Bile rose in his throat and the urge to shoot them all tugged at his trigger finger.
Come on Logan
, he thought,
let’s do this
.

Logan looked over at Gus and nodded, then whispered a quick reminder to Jamie and the Chie
f. “Head shots are
good
, but not vital, so remember to aim for center mass... they are
not
walkers.” He aimed at the man standing closest to the bound women and squeezed off two shots. Crimson flowers bloomed on the scrawny man’s wife-beater as he dropped in a heap.

At the same time Jamie struck Gimpy, who was standing next to the 4Runner, with a perfect head
shot, dropping him like a rag doll. Chief wielded the M4 with deadly accuracy, pumping four roun
ds into Baby Face. The successive impacts walked from the young man’s navel to his sternum, lifting him off of his feet. His body hit the SUV with a hollow thump and bounced off, ending up
in the dirt where he died silently curled up in a fetal position.
Chuckie turned, much faster than a man his size should have been capable of, and waddled away, only to come head on into the storm of buckshot from the sheriff’s shotgun. Mister Rapist’s face dissolved in a halo of gore, eliciting a satisfied grin from Gus.

BOOK: In Harm's Way
11.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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