Justice (4 page)

I came at her fast and she punched out with the gun to open fire, but I was too quick for her. Before she could extend her arm in a shooter position, I had swatted the gun out of her hand and taken her to the ground.
 

“Dammit,” she cursed, her eyes brimming with tears. Lani was young, she had turned nineteen and Z had hit right after she graduated high school. She was also a perfectionist. Every mistake she made caused her to get emotional. It was annoying, but I respected how hard she tried.

“It’s okay, this got me too the first time.” I stuck my hand out and she accepted the help up.

“In a close quarters gunfight you have to implement tactics that you aren’t used to and you can’t use both hands with your weapon. Most of you are used to gripping it with two hands and being able to spread your legs. When only a few feet from your attacker, you need to be able to block and attack. This means you need one hand free. Keep the gun close to your chest, cock it to the side slightly so it doesn’t catch on your clothing when you fire, but keep it tight so you can aim properly. You don’t have to extend your arm. Extending your arm gives you better stability, but you don’t need that in close quarters. Your attacker is right in front of you.” I maneuvered Lani into position, showing her how to hold her hand. She nodded that she understood when I looked at her questioningly.
 

“Keep this in mind if you have a gun pointed at you- they have that arm stuck out in your face, and all it takes-” I made a quick motion with my hand to demonstrate a disarming technique.
 

“Pair off. I want one to practice with the tight attack and the other to try and disarm.” I clapped my hands and they obediently paired up. I dispensed a cup of water from the cooler and chugged it back, surveying my group. They were doing well. I was surprised with some of them, Lani in particular and the female that had come out of Lakeview with Alexis, Melinda. Doc had wanted her in the infirmary with him, since she was a trained nurse, but she was intent on helping us take down Lakeview, which I respected.
 

They were the only girls in my training group. The rest of the gang was comprised of the men that had come with Blake Miller, from Houston and had only been a part of our compound for a few months. Liam, Bret, Ray and Orlando were all competent fighters but still a bit green. I also had some of our original survivors in my group. They weren't former employees, but have been with our group since right after Z hit, Justin Crisp, Jimmy Camp and Duke Nunez were all competent fighters, now. I saw Alexis had paired up with Duke, which I was grateful for, he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and he was a misogynist so I wanted to see her put him on his ass a few times. Duke was good to have in a fight because he was big and rather strong, but his crude humor and inappropriate behaviors grated on my nerves.
 
Plus, he was cocky, the kind of cocky only dumb people can achieve.
 
My stupidity tolerance was low.
 

The door of the warehouse slammed opened and Blake Miller walked through them. Blake had recently shaved off all his pretty hair since hygiene had taken a bit of a downturn lately. We were working on formulating the perfect soap recipe, but right now we had to rely on goods that were scavenged. We still had plenty of soaps and shampoos, but our supplies were finite. Long hair was a vanity in a world that didn’t do well with material needs. Most of the women that kept their hair long only did so because they could tie it up or pull it back in a ponytail for easy care. It would take a bit more “end of the worldness” to set in before us females were shaving our heads. The men were comfortable with that look, not the women. Give me a few months without shampoo and maybe a lice infestation, and I might give the high and tight look a try. I shivered thinking about it, I liked my locks.
 

Blake was a tall man, so of course, I had to look up to him when he stood next to me. He had been one of my bosses before Z hit and now he had taken a leadership role at our compound. We called it S-Island for Survivor Island, and Blake Miller, his partner Zach James and Alexis were kind of the de facto ruling class. Not by any right or vote, just because it’s how it happened. Blake and Zach because they owned the island our compound was located on and had supplied us with the weapons, food and shelter that we used, and Alexis–well, because she was their girlfriend. Both, yeah, she was a more tolerant girl than me.
 

I had only worked for Zach and Blake for a short while before the world ended, but they made good decisions and I trusted them. In the middle of the shit, that was worth more than gold.
 
And Alexis was a natural leader and she kept the boys’ heads on straight. Plus, she listened to me. I would follow all three of them to Hell and back. I had no problem with their leadership.

“We’re going to scavenge Trivox tomorrow and then leave for Lakeview the following day,” Blake said after a quick greeting.
 
“I want your final say on who stays and goes from this group by this afternoon. And I’m serious, Hannah, if you don’t think one of them could survive a one-on-one with one of those Lakeview pervs, they stay back. I don’t want to lose anyone.” I nodded and looked over to the group. The only two I could honestly say would be an asset in this fight was Alexis and Duke, which grated, I wasn’t a fan of Duke. Duke Nuñez was a civilian and hadn’t integrated well with the rest of the team. He was lewd, lacking in hygiene and thought the way to a girl’s heart was by being a total stalker. He was strong though, and knew his way around a weapon. He might not be my favorite, but he would be handy in a fight.
 

The rest of the team I was giving about an eighty percent chance of survival, Justin and Lani were my bottom two. Justin wasn’t aggressive and had a tendency to panic, Lani was still weak from her ordeal. She hadn’t eaten properly in six months and was so young. I told Blake my thoughts and he nodded.
 

“Both of them will fight me if I try to get them to sit out,” I sighed. “Lani wants payback, Justin wants to prove that he’s worth a damn. I don’t think they’ll be an issue, but I don’t want to see them go inside,” I said quietly so I wouldn’t be overheard.
 

“You’re right. We’ll keep them off the frontline. They’ll have to be content with bringing up the rear. You did good here, Hannah, seriously, your training will save their lives.” He patted me on the back and then walked over to Alexis, who tried to ignore him as she was ordering Duke on his knees and zip-tying his hands like we had practiced.
 

We had this. Lakeview was going down.
 

FOUR | Rebel Babysitter

There was no one guarding the door. It stood cracked open to the elements and anything that might wander in. I walked into our main building without any resistance. This was a really bad sign. I yanked on the door, forcing it to slide open and walked into chaos, even though I wanted to turn and run.

The brothers were talking loudly, milling about, nothing but a sea of black leather and our colors of red, white and orange.
 

Junior was by his father’s office and was yelling at the top of his lungs. “You bunch of incompetent pricks!”
 

He was standing on the counter that ran around the glass office Senior had used for his living quarters. The counter had been the customer service area for the grocery store, but it was now a bar, or a place to do drugs. It was usually littered with ashtrays, meth and bottles of booze.
 

There was nothing up there now though, but Junior. It was completely clear and bottles were strewn across the floor, broken, with the smell of alcohol pungent and noxious permeating the air. He was in a real tirade.
 

There were no females around. Even the one they called the “house bitch” was tucked away in the back where they kept the girls. I’m sure some of the Old Ladies were hovering near the back of the room, hidden, but listening. It was their usual MO. The brothers’ wives were not allowed to mingle with the men, or speak out, or leave the base. They were kept in a different area than the property girls, but still locked up. Their only status as an old lady kept them from being traded, or from another brother requesting a night with them.

I tried to stay in the background. I didn’t want to be seen or noticed. Our group consisted of forty members and they were all gathered in this room. It would be easy to stay to the back and remain unseen.
 

“How did she get a knife? How did she get out?” Junior ranted from his perch. I noticed my father motion for him to lean down, and Junior squatted, allowing him to say something in his ear. My father was obviously trying to explain what had happened or make some excuse for what went down without the others hearing him.
 

“I knew that slut was no good!” Junior finally puffed out, like he knew, like he had seen it coming.
 
He stood up and looked down at us from his lofty view on the counter. He was still young, my age, barely twenty-three, but he wore the road on his face, his eyes already lined with crow’s feet. His hair was a dark shock of black on tanned skin, hinting at an ethnic heritage, though he insisted it was the Cajun in him. He was tall and well-muscled, which made him strong and tough to beat in a fight. As a teen he had taken me down twice, until I got smart and started taking mixed martial arts in my spare time. He never took me down again,
by himself
.
 

“My father is dead. It looks like I’m President now, brothers,” he called down to us in his deep voice.
 
A low murmuring went over the crowd of men and then a steady stream of clapping and a few catcalls. “My father Brandon Senior is now gone, but not forgotten, and I’m ready to lead the Southern Clan!” More catcalls and cheers.

“We’ve got a new world here, a new world with no rules, with no heat breathing down our necks. We are truly free, my brothers!” His raised his arms as if preaching on a pulpit and looked down at us with a grim smile on his face.
 

“With Senior’s death it will be hard, but we can do this. We’ll have a new focus, a new goal. We don’t have to slink around in the shadows anymore. No more running from the law and living off the dregs of society. We were always outlaws, but now in this world, with no government, no pigs, the outlaws will rule! We make the rules now, we are in charge!” The room erupted in cheers and I clapped along, in case anyone was paying attention.
 

I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.
Was this how it felt to be a German in the 30s?
I looked around at my brothers who were all eating this shit up. They looked almost gleeful. Only a few had grim looks on their faces. I didn’t know if it was because they were mourning Senior or because of what Junior was saying.

“I’m appointing Mick as my Vice President, and Eagle as my Sergeant at Arms,” he said and there were a few gasps from the crowd. My father had been Sergeant at Arms for a long time, it was expected he would stay in his position when Junior took over.
 

“Shouldn’t we take a vote?” someone called. I craned my neck to see who it was, but they were staying low.
 

“This ain’t a democracy. My place, my rules. We doing things differently now and until things get straight, I don’t want to hear shit from y’all. You don’t like it, you can walk.” He jumped off the counter into the crowd and restless murmuring went over the group of bikers, glee turned quickly into doubt. We usually had a vote, there was always a vote. The president had the final say, but he listened to his brothers. Junior had other things in mind though.
 

“Bayou, get Senior’s body out of here, we’re gonna have to give him an old school Viking send-off tonight, and get one of the old ladies to clean out his room,” he said to one of the brothers standing near him. Bayou had been licking Junior’s boots for years. He hurried off like a typical lackey.

“We gonna have one hell of party tonight, brothers, send the old bastard off with a bang,” he finished and turned around, motioning for Eagle to follow him and they went into Junior’s living area.
 

I had a really bad feeling about how things were going to change under Junior’s leadership.

I could understand Senior’s motivations as a leader.
 
They were always centered on self-gratification. He was an addict, I could understand addicts. I couldn’t trust them, but I knew what his motivations were. Junior was motivated by something entirely different and I didn’t understand it. He was a mean bastard and a lot of his decisions were made from cruelty. He was also greedy and power hungry so there was no telling what he could do to the club. Sometimes power could motivate a person to act for the good of the group, a solid foundation gave a person more power, so building up the group would benefit a leader.