Apocalypse Law 2 by John Grit

Author:John Grit [Grit, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-11-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Nate rushed to the canoe as fast as darkness would allow. He paddled with a rage. A renewed force within drove him on, despite his fatigue.

Before false dawn, he was twenty miles downriver.

The morning was three hours old when Nate found the chainsaw and gas can he had hidden so many days ago. There was no one around, since they were hunting Deni and him on the other side of the river. He left the saw and headed for the bridge with just enough gas to do what he needed.

Deep in the swamp, not far from the river, Nate found a hiding place to rest. They would have to step on him by accident to see him where he slept.

Something yanked Nate out of his slumber. Voices. He held his rifle across his chest and listened.

At first, he could not understand their words, but they came closer and he could hear the conversation.

Nate heard what sounded like a teenage boy. “I think we should turn back. If they catch us—”

“It’s too late for that,” a man sounding much older said. “You know what happened to Shaun Twillager when they caught him away from his post. Never liked the bastard. Seemed to be kind of a pansy. But it wasn’t pretty watching him die.” He hawked up something out of his throat. “God damn smokes. Wish I had one right now, though.”

“It ain’t cigarettes I miss,” the teen said.

“This is a hard bunch, boy. Too hard for me. And I know you ain’t got the stomach for their ways. I saw you throwing up when we raided that last town. I ain’t never even took nothing that wasn’t mine in my life before the shit hit the fan. But I got to eat. Taking what you gotta have to survive is one thing, but they go way too far. No. We got to get the hell away from that bunch before it’s too late.”

“I figured if I didn’t join them, they would kill me,” the teen said.

“You figured right. There’s some truth to the saying about safety in numbers, but that bunch is too rough for me. And I always thought I was a rough old cob.” They were close enough now Nate could hear the man spit. “Boy, that murdering bunch of animals could make Hitler’s SS puke.”

They walked by no more than fifteen yards from Nate. He let them go.

Nate slept until sundown. Then he ate a quick meal of powdered soup reconstituted with cold water. By the time it was good and dark, he had already made his first kill. The old KA-BAR was bloody when he slid it back in its sheath.

There was another sentinel to take out before Nate could burn the truck. Of all the trucks parked in the road, it had the heaviest load on it. Nate hoped whatever was stacked so high under that tarpaulin would explode.

Before Nate could work his way closer, the last sentinel grabbed his belt buckle and trotted into the woods.

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