Countdown: The Wasteland Chronicles Book One Page 15

  Crimley scrunched his face and looked to Rebecca. “Is he having some kind of fit?”

  Rebecca laughed. “He wants you to cover us and for me to head to that rock over there. Guess it’s not that obvious huh dick?”

  Crimley gawked at her and shook his head. Rebecca rolled her eyes then snuck out of the cave and crawled behind a car-sized boulder. She leaned against it then peered around the side and looked at Lenny. He grinned and flashed another hand signal.

  They were getting closer now. Rebecca could no longer see them, but she could hear the rocks falling under their steps as they made their way up.

  She held her gun close to her chest, barely breathing as she waited for a signal from Lenny. Rebecca had been in this situation before and the outcome was never pretty. It wasn’t that these were necessarily bad people, but nowadays everyone had to be considered a threat. You could no longer expect people to do the right thing.

  The sun was starting to dip behind the tree line and the light was fading fast. Lenny looked back down the hill through his scope and watched as the four strangers moved closer. At the rate that they were walking, this was all going to end in less than ten minutes.

  There was a sudden shifting of rocks to Lenny’s right and he whipped around with his rifle ready to shoot. He’d found the fifth intruder or rather, they had found him.

  ~~~**~~~

  Maddox let the door close slowly behind him then shuffled silently to catch up with Tim. His shoes kicked up a thin layer of dust that had accumulated on the ground. It floated into the air and he sneezed loudly. Tim whipped around and gave him a look of death and Maddox shrugged his shoulders.

  The building was almost completely dark. A single UV bulb glowed overhead casting a dim light over the room. The air smelled like stale corn chips and aside from a few knocked over cardboard boxes the place was completely empty.

  “Which way?” Tim asked as he turned to Maddox.

  “Follow me,” he replied in a hushed tone.

  Maddox took the lead and began to follow a painted brick wall around the perimeter of the building. He stopped as they came to a wooden door and placed his hand on it. It was thick and solid and a small, square window was centered at eye level.

  Maddox peeked into the room then turned back to Tim. “This is it,” he whispered. Slowly turning the handle he pushed at the door, but it didn’t budge. He nudged it harder, ramming his shoulder into the solid wood, but got the same result.

  “Let me try,” Tim insisted.

  He stepped forward, grabbed the knob and thrust his shoulder into the door. The handle turned, but the door didn’t move. “Fuck!” Tim shouted.

  With the butt of his gun Tim knocked the knob off of the door and tried pushing it again.

  “That was smart,” Maddox said. “Now how do we open it?”

  Frustrated, Tim stepped back and let off three shots right in between the frame and the door. He lifted his long leg and brought his boot crashing down and the door swung open.

  “That’s how.”

  Outside, Mark had fallen asleep lying on a pile of leaves and sticks. When the gun went off he jumped and grabbed his rifle.

  “What the fuck?” he mumbled to himself.

  Leaning forward he looked through his scope and stared down into the valley. He focused in on the weapons depot and then moved out to look at the surrounding area. Something caught his eye and he lowered his rifle. Blinking, he rubbed his face and slapped himself to make sure he was awake.

  “Get it together.”

  Mark brought the rifle back up to eye level and hesitantly stared through the sights. Four blurry, black dots were moving across the lawn. He adjusted the scope and the images cleared, showing armed men heading straight for the building.

  “Goddamn it!” Mark whispered.

  He zoomed in closer. He could tell these were not your everyday stragglers. They wore tactical gear and moved like they knew what they were doing. And if that was the case, there were probably more of them than he could see.

  Mark grabbed for his bag blindly, not wanting to take his eyes off of the men. He slid it across the ground then reached inside and pulled out his last magazine.

  He contemplated unloading on them. Killing them all would be ideal, but would also give away his position if anyone else was out there. No matter what, he knew he couldn’t let them go into the rear access door where Tim and Maddox would be exiting any minute.

  Back inside Tim was busy stuffing boxes of ammunition into a duffle bag. Maddox was on the other side of the room shuffling through the various guns that hung on the wall.

  “I can’t believe they left it all. All these guns they’re all still here,” he said with excitement.

  Maddox sat a bag full of rifles and handguns onto the floor then he started filling another one with random explosives. Frag grenades, flash bangs even tear gas canisters lined the walls, categorized on metal shelves.

  “Do you even know how to use those?” Tim asked as he watched him grab armfuls like a kid in a toy store.

  “Nope, I was a systems analyst, but I always wanted to blow up stuff when I was a kid,” Maddox said with a grin on his face.

  Tim laughed and shook his head. He looked around the room scanning the walls for anything else they might need. “What’d they do here anyway?”

  “Defense contractor. This was one of their storage locations and testing for prototypes.”

  Tim nodded then zipped up his bag. “Okay, we’re gonna catch hell lugging this shit around, time to head out.”

  “Your overgrown buddy can carry it all,” Maddox mumbled then slung the bags over his shoulder.

  Together they crept back to the main room. Maddox propped the splintered door closed and they made their way towards the exit.

  Outside, Mark was sweating nervously as he watched the team of four move closer and closer to the back door. His index finger rested on the trigger of his rifle, the muzzle aimed at the head of the point man. Any second now he was going to have to make a decision.

  They rounded the back of the warehouse and walked up the long ramp to the rear access door. Mark took a deep breath and steadied his hand.

  Suddenly, the door swung open and Tim and Maddox stumbled out. They were both weighed down with bags, barely holding onto the straps. Tim stepped onto the ramp and froze as he came face to face with the barrel of an assault rifle.

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  About the Author

  http://www.amazon.com/author/rashadfreeman

  The date was October 31, 1979. The air was cool and a light fog blew in from the gulf, cloaking the Tampa area in an ominous, tight-fitting tunic. The annual Halloween festivities had just begun and a night of mischievous tomfoolery was afoot.

  Scandalous and nefarious characters took flight. Doorbells were rung and ill-boding tricks were played regardless of the treats given. This was the dark reality of the bustling Florida metropolitan.

  To the north, Grateful Dead crooned the night's theme music at the Nassau Coliseum. Within earshot of the concert, witnesses stated a UFO hovered over the grounds for thirty minutes before vanishing.

  At the same time the Cromarty's were busy hosting their notorious Halloween party at 112 Ocean Ave., better known as the Amityville Horror House. Screams and cries for help were reported throughout the night, punctuated with the disappearance of the family next door. They were never heard from again.

  Unknowingly altering the course of history, Kurt Vonnegut released "Jailbird" the same week KISS gained infamy on The Tomorrow Show. The aftermath of this collision would not be felt for decades until the emergence of Justin
Bieber.

  After a night filled with mayhem and destruction and the deaths of several prominent entertainers, politicians and a notorious bank robber, the Federal government was forced to loan $1.5 billion dollars to Chrysler. This spurred a series of violent protests, resulting in the Brunah Agate oil spill. Over 10.7 million gallons of oil were dumped into the Galveston Bay. This became the worst oil spill disaster in U.S. history.

  A few hours later on November 1, 1979, Rashad Freeman was born. Feel free to draw your own conclusions.

  "I'm a writer, I right things."

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  http://www.rashadfreeman.blogspot.com

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