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Authors: William Belanger

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Thriller

The Last Gallon (3 page)

BOOK: The Last Gallon
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Chapter 4- Setting out, Job 1

Mark called ahead to make sure Kara and Joey would be ready to go. He told them to bring the barest of essentials and everything else was handled. When he arrived at the complex he was surprised to see the gate guard snap to attention at the sight of his car. As he passed through the gate he smirked at the guard. He saw Kara and Joey standing at the curb; Kara had an enormous duffel bag by her side. Joey had a perplexed and amazed look on his face as the car silently slid up to the curb.


Woah dad, this thing is crazy!” Joey shouted, “It looks like an armadillo!” he joked. Mark laughed; it kind of did look like an armadillo. “Wait ‘til you get inside” Mark told him. Mark looked at Kara quizzically and said “What is that?” gesturing towards the bag. “Clothes, medicine, toothbrushes, night clothes…” Mark cut her off. “Kara, we have no room for that. We have survival kits in the car, we have clothes in the car, dump the bag.” She got an angry then disappointed look on her face and reluctantly let the bag go and started towards the car. She then got a look on her face and wheeled around and began digging through the bag. She’s looking for her pills Mark said to himself and sadly shook his head. He couldn’t judge because he had to indulge his addiction again on the ride home.

The family got situated in the car and as they got on the road Mark went over the features with them while they were safe in the city. Joey was stoked to be the machine gunner and Kara was excited to be navigator and door gunner as well.

The city wall loomed near; beyond it was absolute darkness and the uncertainty of the uncivilized world. Mark had not been outside since he had turned his family over to the corporation and did not know what to expect. The mountain regions had carried on pretty much unscathed bartering and building what they needed to survive. The little towns and highways between cities were something out of the bible in scale of destruction and depravity.

Four guards stepped out of shacks on either side of the road, M4s drawn by two, semi-automatic shotguns held by the other two. Mark instructed Kara to reach into the glove box and pull out the envelope; it would contain their paperwork to get out of NY and into Boston. She fished around and finally found the right forms and Mark handed it to a guard through the gunport on his side.
The man grunted and motioned for the gate to open.

As the large steel door groaned to life several
guards took position up on the wall. They knew they were vulnerable while that gate was open and ran through the procedure with well drilled precision. The lead guard looked at Mark and gestured 5. This meant he had 5 seconds to get through that gate before it was closing again, if he didn’t make it he had failed his mission before it even started.

As soon as the gap was big enough for the car Mark floored the pedal and rocketed through the opening in a flash. Just like that they were out in the wilderness and on the road to who knows where. Mark flipped the headlights off and turned the night vision HUD on. With it he and Kara could look through the windshield and see through the night. The system had an auto-filter system like a welding hood that would instantly dim if headlights or a spotlight were trained on them.

Mark settled the Armadillo into a nice cruise at 80mph and was getting nearly 70mpg as long as he didn’t touch the gas. He used the throttle like the scientist had showed him and it did an excellent job at keeping the car at a constant speed.

About 15 minutes out of town Mark saw a faint flicker of light on the horizon and throttled the car down to around 50mph. He told Joey to be on alert and asked Kara if there were any side roads they could take. She responded in the negative,
they were going to have to meet whatever was up ahead.

Sweety
Gilmore sat at the roadblock like he had done every night for the last week. It was his last night shift and he was looking forward to getting back to his lean-to and climbing in his sleeping bag. Being low man on the gang’s totem pole he often pulled crap duty but they had just gotten a couple more refugees trained up so he would have some relief and actually be 3
rd
from the bottom from now on or until someone got killed.

Sweety’s
12 gauge shotgun lay at his feet and he sat in the lawn-chair reading an old Penthouse magazine. It was the same one he read every night but he had not found anything else to look at during his stay. He was backed by the hulks of 4 burnt out cars and one operational ex-Army 5-ton truck. After extracting the toll he would move the truck and let the travelers on their way.

The toll varied depending on the
traveler. Low-life’s like himself and fellow gang members might get shook down for drugs or ammo; wealthy travelers would have to give up more. It was a sliding scale and it was totally at the discretion of the guard. If Sweety was higher ranked he could keep his tolls but since he belonged to a sponsor he was lucky to see 10%. Sweety folded out the centrefold for one more glance.

Mark stopped about 100 yards from the checkpoint. All he could see was one lone guard. He looked over at Kara as if to ask for advice. “Why don’t we just pop him and be done with it?” she asked. Mark shrugged. He really didn’t know how things worked out here, it’s not like he was well trained by the company. He thought for a moment and said “If this is a good sized gang then we could have problems later on.” Kara nodded and Joey chimed in “If they were a good sized gang they would have more than one guard.” Mark chuckled, his son was right.

Mark turned the car off and opened his door quietly while unsheathing the M4 in the process. He had never shot another person before but was an experienced hunter. He took a deep breath and sighted the man with his ACOG. Using the car door as a rest he took another breath before gently squeezing the trigger. He heard the WHUMP of the round and watched the man slump in his chair, dropping whatever it was he had in his hands prior to the shot.

Sweety
was staring at Ms. January when a rush of heat and pain came over him followed by a crack. He looked down and there was a hole through Ms. January’s left nipple. The magazine quickly turned red and he realized he had been shot. He dropped the magazine and tried to pick up the shotgun but just fell over. Sweety lay on the cold concrete wondering what had just happened to him until he finally decided to just go to sleep, he would figure it all out in the morning.

Mark swapped seats with Kara and let her drive up to the body. “Keep your pistol trained on him, I will get the keys and move the truck out of the way” he told her and patted her on the thigh as he got out of the car.

Mark cautiously approached the body and poked it with the rifle’s barrel. The guy didn’t move so he dug around looking for the keys. When he didn’t find them he checked the truck. They were in the ignition. “Figures” Mark cursed as he wiped the kid’s blood off on anything he could find that was mildly absorbent.

He fired up the big truck and ground the gearbox into reverse. He barely got it moving before it tried to stall but he was able to make enough room for the little car to squeeze through. He shut the truck off and chucked the keys out into the darkness and bolted to the
waiting Armadillo. Kara swapped back into the passenger seat and he got in to drive away.

“One down, probably another dozen to go” he said as he settled in. Kara had a sad look on her face. “I’m not sure we should’ve shot him” she told Mark. Mark nodded “I agree but this car is going to set these guys off into thinking we are rich and
compared to these people out here we are” he explained. “You are also very beautiful and would be a prime target; we don’t know what these people are going to be like. We have to be more brutal than them if we are going to get through the night.” Kara wrinkled her brow and thought about what Mark said. He was right; it was horrible but why put themselves in more danger than they needed?

The family stayed on 95 at New Haven to avoid going into Hartford. Mark had been told that the city had been over-run by a strange cult that did not take kindly to interlopers coming into their city. It was best to not even bother even if it added several miles to the trip.

The trip was relatively quiet save for a few quick exchanges of gunfire. Once Joey lit the SAW up people generally scattered. There seemed to be plenty of automatic weapons lying around but usually the strongest gangs and corporations came into control of them. Besides that the SAW could sustain fire for much longer than your average M-16 or AK.

When the family hit New London things got interesting. At the Gold Star Bridge there was a large check-point set up. They stopped a safe distance away and looked at the arrangement with binoculars. “They’ve got missiles” Mark said shaking his head. “How do we get through this?”
Kara continued looking and counting to herself. “28, 31, 35. I count 35 Mark.” She said, “How do we fight this?”

“I can help you with that” a voice said from the shadows. They both wheeled around, guns ready as a man in trench-coat stepped from the darkness. “I can help you with that” he repeated and motioned for them to control their muzzles. They both slowly lowered their rifles
while Joey readied his Beretta through the gunport.

“I’ve got a barge. We run people across the river for a small…
er…moderate fee” He explained. “What would this fee be?” Mark asked, not really wanting to know the answer. The man smiled at Kara and then shook his head. “Naw man, you’re not dealing with an animal. How about 10 gallons of gas?” Mark held a finger up and leaned in to check the current situation. 17 gallons remaining, no way he could give up over half. “How about 5?” Mark asked. “7” the man replied and then corrected himself. “7 and 100 rounds of ammo.”

Mark stuck his hand out and said “Deal.” He and the man shook on it and as he disappeared back into the shadows told Mark directions to the dock. “30 minutes or I leave without you” the man said as he took off.

The family arrived at the dock in 25 minutes and the man was readying the barge for departure. They drove on board and the man quickly tarped the Armadillo so it could not be seen. The rest of the barge was filled with coal. Mark quickly understood how this operation worked. The man confirmed his suspicions. “The gang up there needs coal to run their generators. We supply it and they generally leave us alone. I’m gonna need you guys to lay low but be ready if they harass us.” He explained. “We can do that” Mark assured him as he sent Kara and Joey off to hide while he and the man spoke on the tug.

“When you come back I would suggest just coming straight this way or avoid
this place altogether” the man told him. “I’d like it if you came back this way, I could use more gas and bullets but I would understand if the risk is too high.” Mark smiled and said “Well” but the man interrupted “Timothy, you can call me Timothy.” Mark continued, “Well Timothy, if the company will re-fill my tank when we head out I would be glad to pay you 5 gallons and 50 bullets for the return trip.” Timothy thought for a second and stuck out his hand. “Deal” he said and smiled.

The family was soon back on land and on the road. Before leaving Timothy told Mark to avoid 295 and Providence if at all possible. He said if they had time to take 195 to 495 because the fighting on that side had all but died out. There was a large gang fight taking place all throughout
Providence and the city was medieval. Mark thanked him and shook his hand again.

When the family hit 195 it was 4:30am. They had 70 miles to go and roughly two hours to get there. It was going to be tight unless they had absolutely no other issues. Mark turned to Kara and told her “We’ve really got to stop being so cautious, it takes too much time.” He was referring to the constant stopping and scoping out issues instead of rushing in with guns blazing. She nodded and reluctantly agreed. From this point on they would be a high-speed assault vehicle.

The danger of going off road in this day and age is the possibility of road-side bombs. Gangs don’t normally build roadblocks in the middle of a field but there are times where an opening presents itself before a blockade.

Mark was barrelling towards a roadblock guarded by 5 well armed men when Kara yelled out “LEFT! NOW!!”
As he cut the wheel he hit the button on the console that pumped up the airbags and gave the car an additional 3” of clearance. The Armadillo slammed into the curb and jumped it with a loud thud and came down hard enough to skid the bottom of the car against the gravely trail. They were now rocketing through the courtyard of an apartment complex at over 50 miles per hour with the lights off.

The gang opened fire but quickly lost the car behind the buildings. Mark snaked back and forth through the rows of houses until Kara yelled “RIGHT!” and he cut the wheel, jumped the curb back onto the road and slammed the gas to the floor as they sped away from the road block. Joey popped the turret out and popped off two quick bursts in the direction of the blockade which sent the guard scattering and stopping their return fire completely.

Mark laughed and eased the Armadillo back into a cruising speed. “That was much more fun than the other roadblocks, good job baby!” Kara gave him a high-five and they quickly kissed. Mark realized he hadn’t even wanted a sniff since their trip started. Of course now that he thought about it the idea began to consume him. Kara noticed and put a small dab on her finger for him to snort. He thanked her and gave her hand a squeeze. Joey complained that he needed a coffee as they were all suffering from their addictions. Mark pointed Joey to the survival sack and to the caffeine pills contained within. “Just one” Mark said sternly. Kara slipped half a lortab at the same time. They were one happy but very dysfunctional family at the moment.

BOOK: The Last Gallon
10.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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