The Last Gallon Page 14

  The thought chilled Mark, he could not imagine the government shooting its citizens, let alone using a combined 3 megaton warhead on them. The scale of the explosives could only be seen to believed. We are talking over 100x the explosive power of the bombs dropped over Japan falling onto the heads of American citizens, dropped by a missile bearing our flag.

  Arlington Tennessee was about 30 miles from downtown Memphis; this is where the effects of the bombs became evident as there were no old trees standing. There was no grass and only a few wooden structures that didn’t at least show signs of fire damage from the fire-storm unleashed from above.

  As the convoy rolled further in to town the damage became more and more evident. 6 miles past Arlington was Garner Lake. It was completely empty, vaporized by the blasts and looked like a crater out in the middle of the desert.

  The interstate turned into something akin to a gravel road; luckily some brave souls had pounded the rubble into a useful form though it made travel very slow. The lush forest that separated Memphis from its suburbs was no more, some saplings were trying to grow again but there was no greenery that was older than that faithful day in the whole of the metro area.

  I-40 going up and around the city did not exist and the only bridge into the city was via Summer Avenue. Once entering Memphis proper the feeling of grief, fear, anguish, and death were impossible to shake. Mark found it very hard to concentrate even though there was nothing in the way of scenery: a corner of a building here, a scorched light-pole there, sometimes a random mailbox and almost nothing else.

  Mark started to think the rumors of any kind of life in the area were completely false when one of the hummers in the middle of the convoy exploded. Suddenly hordes of creatures came up from underground bunkers. The convoy was being ambushed.

  Joey did not want to open the turret and breathe the air and Mark could not blame him so everyone used the gun ports to fight off the mutants. One got within 50 feet of the car and realized that these things were human, just severely disfigured. The awful things seemed extremely soft too as bullets seemed to just liquefy large areas where they impacted. Cindy’s buckshot would almost saw them in half. It was putrefying but absolutely necessary to fight them off as they were relentless.

  One of the deuce and a halves got isolated from the convoy and surrounded by the mutants. Vincent ordered the column to stop and try to save the brave souls in the machine. Joey got over his fear of the radiation and popped the turret to put a couple grenades down-range at the invaders. The 25mm grenades were devastating against the soft flesh of the radioactive attackers and they literally flew apart upon impact. Joey used 5 to save the truck but felt they were worth it, he could not imagine what would happen to anyone they actually touched.

  The convoy fought on through the city, barely moving more than 5 miles per hour at the fastest. This made getting out of the city before sundown a near impossibility but there was no chance in hell anyone was going to spend the night. Mark had allowed Vincent to send a Bradley forward since the terrain was a little rough to be testing with the little Armadillo, even in full rally mode.

  As the sun set the creatures returned to their holes. Mark was certain it was just to refit and re-organize for a strike later as these monsters had absolutely no quit in them. They would attack until they died and then the next one would take their place. Mark started thinking back to his father’s recollection of the Tet Offensive during the Vietnam War and felt like this was what they were experiencing.

  Bradley 1 called Mark and asked them to come forward to help out for a minute. Mark pulled up behind the stopped machine and had Joey check on the crew. They had run into a barricade that blocked their forward progress completely and needed help removing it. Joey came back and enlisted the help of the rest of the family to hopefully make short work of the barrier.

  Across the city the mutants burned their dead to provide light and heat. After today’s encounter they had plenty of kindling to put on the fire. When the wind shifted you would catch a whiff of the rotten meat cooking, it was enough to double you over in disgust, it made taking the barrier apart that much more difficult.

  The family and Bradley crew worked to dismantle the barrier feverishly; they all wanted to get back into their vehicles and the safety they provided. Joey was pulling timbers out of one corner of the barrier when a dark shadow enveloped him. Cindy turned and caught a glimpse of her man being pulled into the ruins of a concrete building about 100 feet away. She didn’t even think to alert anyone and took off in their direction.

  Joey caught his first close up look at the people of Memphis. Their bodies were basically masses of tumors and festering burns. The man who had captured him had no teeth and his breathing was labored like he smoked 2 packs of cigarettes a day for 70 years prior to capturing Joey. The figure wore all black to blend in with the night including a black cloak. He pulled a knife from his belt and raised it above his head to deal a death blow to Joey.

  Joey closed his eyes, he was a goner and he knew it. The man began to plunge, aiming the knife at Joey’s heart, when Cindy entered the ruins and pumped an entire magazine into him. BOOM! Chack BOOM Chack BOOM Chack BOOM Chack BOOM Chack CLICK. She almost reached for a sidearm when she realized that there wasn’t much less besides a pair of boots. The knife clanged off the concrete next to Joey and he sat up and could see the outline of his lover through the remnants of his attacker that covered his face.

  Joey spit several times while screaming “Shit!” as he tried to get the awful taste out of his mouth. Cindy grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. “We need to go; they are coming out of the wood-work again. Here, I brought you this” she said and handed him his M4. She loaded up some buckshot in her shotgun and they exited the ruins to return to the barricade and awaiting vehicles.

  Black masses moved all around the pair as they tried to make their way to the car. They decided standing back to back was their best chance for survival to prevent being grabbed from behind. They would take turns pushing into each other with the recoil from their weapons as they fought off wave after wave of attackers.

  Mark and Kara had been frantically looking for the pair while still trying to work on the barricade. They knew they would be stuck until it was clear and if they had to rescue the kids they wouldn’t be going anywhere so they kept an eye out while pulling debris out of the road. The blasts from Cindy’s shotgun alerted them to her location and they followed the ensuing fire fight with great interest.

  The Bradley crew manned up the vehicle and brought the chain-gun to life. The Memphis horde disintegrated upon being blasted with the big 1” rounds. Mark and Kara moved the last of the big chunks of telephone pole when they spotted Joey and Cindy fighting their way back to them. Kara unlslung her 22TCM carbine and started putting 3-round bursts into the creatures before they got close to the kids. Mark did the same with his M4 on Cindy’s side.

  As Joey and Cindy approached Mark fell back to get the car running while Kara continued to defend. By the time they reached the car Mark had everything going and the group got on the move again. The Bradley’s chain gun did its magic and soon the horde gave up the fight to return to their holes again.

  The convoy fought through the night, clearing barricades, fighting off hordes, pushing them back until the next barricade and starting it all over again. During one particularly rough battle the ground shook and a mushroom cloud like fireball rose into the sky. “Shit!” Mark exclaimed, a fuel truck had been destroyed likely taking many of the mutants and Vincent’s men with it. The final 6 miles of the city took the entire night and the sun was rising over the horizon when the family caught their first glimpses of the muddy Mississippi River. It was the most beautiful thing they had seen in a long time.

  A ramshackle bridge had been constructed to allow passage through the city for anyone brave enough to try it and the family happily tested the limits of its capacity when they rolled over it right behind the heavy Bradley. Falling into the dirty river would be l
ike a weekend at an expensive spa after the horrors of the city.

  Much of the country side on the other side of Memphis had been scorched by the fire-storm but none of the bombs had impacted on the Arkansas side. The transition from city to farmland was amazing but in the post-nuclear Memphis landscape it was more like escaping the city to a stark desert for a few miles.

  When they finally entered land that had green grass and trees growing the convoy circled up to take inventory and a head count. Vincent was nearly in tears when he heard the total. One tanker and one deuce and a half had been lost along with all their crew. Another 5 men had been killed and another 30 injured in some way or another. All in all the city of Memphis cost 2 vehicles, 25 lives, and took at least 15 of the 30 wounded out of the fight completely.

  The ammo count was much worse. The Bradley’s were down to about 50 chain gun rounds each and had 1 TOW missile apiece. Small arms were down to around 50 rounds per man. The family wasn’t in much better condition. They had about 250 rounds of .223, 75 rounds of 22TCM, 8 shotgun shells, and 45 grenades left. They still had a variety of pistol ammo and would be keeping it close by if they ran out of rifle ammo which would be very likely if they got into another fire-fight.

  “We better fight smart from here on out” Vincent warned Mark who wholly agreed. “You also better hope your promised land has some ammo!” Mark smiled, “What promise land would be complete without a stock pile?” he asked while nervously hoping Vincent was right.

  Chapter 22- The last gallon

  After a well deserved nap outside the perimeter of destruction around Memphis the convoy got on the road. It was a very sombre stop because everyone knew about the losses and the dire ammunition situation. Vincent didn’t even bring up their gas crisis. He stayed awake while others slept trying to run the math and he could not get the convoy to the cache. He hoped they would find some fuel in the few towns they would pass through.

  They moved along at their usual pace. This area of the country was relatively free and suffered no direct control. The biggest problem was they were not united and could be pushed around by anyone with power and a desire to be an asshole. Unfortunately both were in abundance in America at this time and the good people of the free-lands were always being worked over.

  The good thing about the free-lands is there were no real organized gangs or resistance like they had encountered everywhere else on their journey. This made the going relatively easy. This also gave Vincent plenty of time to give himself an ulcer trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

  The idle chit-chat over the radio was minimal as well; it made for a dreary ride which was sad because they were traveling through one of the least affected areas any of them had seen yet. For a group so close to their goal the fatigue of the last few days and the seemingly insurmountable obstacles they were facing just grinded everyone’s gears to a screeching halt.

  At 40mph they would be in Jonesboro in just under 2 hours. They hoped the size of the town would help them resupply a bit, even if it was just enough to get into a fight that lasted more than five minutes. The miles ticked by slowly and everyone expected an ambush out of nowhere, it was just the way of the world they were used to.

  No such attack came, in fact the journey turned out to be quite pleasant once everyone got out of their funk. Gradually the chatter increased and by the time the signs showed Jonesboro less than 20 miles away there were multiple “I spy” games going on between the convoy members.

  The convoy got off the highway and headed towards the Jonesboro airport. Vincent had finally come clean and told Mark that they were about tapped out. He hoped the airport would have some diesel or av-gas that could be used.

  A few of the vehicles barely made it to the airport. A couple Bradleys and the H2s were sputtering and spitting as they struggled to breathe without fuel. The convoy circled up in their normal defensive posture. Vincent didn’t care if it was a friendly city; he would rather hurt feelings than lose lives.

  Vincent and Mark met up and proceeded to the hangar area to see if they could find someone. There was little chance the airport was still operational since there were so few pilots but there might be a slim chance that their tanks were not empty. Hell, even if some auxiliary equipment had a couple gallons here or there they could get a couple vehicles running. At this point if he could get the remaining troop transports going he would load everyone up and destroy the rest of the gear.

  The two men entered the maintenance hangar and called out “HELLO” looking for someone they could talk to. The building appeared to still be used but there didn’t seem to be anyone around. They continued down the row of hangars when they finally ran into someone in the forth hangar down.

  An older gentleman was sweeping the floor when Vincent and Mark startled him. He was probably in his late 60s but he whirled around and had his Uzi at the ready in a flash. “Woah buddy, we mean you no harm” Vincent said while holding his hands out, well away from his own weapon. The old man smiled and let the Uzi back down to his waist. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  Vincent explained their fuel situation and the man listened and nodded his head or shook it along with the story. When Vincent was finished the man took the chance to respond. “Well, we don’t have a drop right now but there is supposed to be a truck coming in tomorrow. I can’t offer you all of it even if you have the money; it’s not fair to the hard working people here. I can get you enough to get you and your people safely to your destination though.” Vincent smiled and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you sir, do you know where we might get some ammunition?” he asked. The man nodded again and told them of a National Guard depot not far away who might barter.

  Vincent and Mark walked back to the convoy and got in the Armadillo to check out the National Guard base. Kara and the kids stayed with the rest of the convoy and helped prepare the camp.

  Mark turned to Vincent with a serious look; Vincent feared he knew what Mark was going to tell him right away. “You’re going on aren’t you?” Vincent asked, pre-empting Mark’s speech. Mark nodded. “Damnit Mark, I thought we were partners” Vincent said angrily. Mark responded back with equal hostility “We are Vincent. What if everything we need to get you back in order is in the cache?” he asked. “What if there is enough firepower in there to pull us out of any shit storm we get into. We can’t sit here and hope we make it; we need to get up there and secure it before the cartel and the company send their goons to come and get it.”

  Vincent knew Mark was right but he was still slightly afraid of being betrayed. Mark turned to him and put his hand on Vincent’s shoulder. “I’m not gonna fuck you dude. I promise. I want to see your brother again so I can repay him for his actions. I want to repay you and your men for the sacrifices they have made. We’re going to do this; we are too close to let it slip away.” Vincent smiled and patted Mark’s hand. “Ok, let’s not get gay over it” he joked.

  The two pulled into the National Guard Armory which seemed to be abuzz with activity. They walked in and saw why right away, the place was set up like a gun show. Guardsmen and townfolk were selling their wares and trading for other guns, food, farming implements or whatever the seller needed at that moment. The two men grinned at each other like two kids that found a candy stash at Grandma’s.

  Vincent began making a shopping list. He needed chain gun ammo, 5.56, 7.62, and various pistol calibres. Mark needed 5.56, shotgun shells, and some 22TCM if he could find some and he found part what he was looking for pretty quick. A 12 year old girl was running the table that had the ammo he needed. She had a large variety of standard FMJ ammo, M855 penetrator, M193, some boattail hollow points and even some Gold-Dot hollow points. “How much for 500 Gold-Dots?” Mark asked her. She looked at him and gestured to look at his money. He showed her his last vial of gold dust. “That will do” she answered. It was about 3x the price it should have been so Mark offered a third of the dust. The young girl shook her head and replied “Half or fuck off, I’
m the only one with Gold-Dots.” Mark stuck out his hand to seal the deal and she slapped him a hi-five.

  Mark met up with Vincent a few minutes later; he seemed to be in an intense discussion with one of the Guardsmen. When he got close enough to hear them speak he realized Vincent was bartering away vehicles for munitions. “I can’t do 4, I can do 1 and that is it” Vincent said. “I’ll give you half for two” the guy replied. Vincent countered with “half for one and that’s it, it’s my final offer” and began to turn away. “Ok, Ok” the man said. “You’ve got a deal.” The men shook hands and Vincent told him to meet him out front in an hour.

  As they walked away Mark asked what he had bartered. “Enough to resupply us for 2 days for one Bradley” he answered. “Not a bad deal” Mark said as he patted the expert negotiator on the back. “Whatcha got there?” Vincent asked about the box Mark was lugging around. “500 rounds of Gold-Dots” Mark answered. “I also found a couple boxes of TCM and 25 slugs” he told his buddy. Vincent smiled and nodded. “Good deal, looks like we got ourselves re-armed” he said proudly.

  The family reloaded their magazines while the convoy re-armed their vehicles. Vincent had lost a good portion of their offensive punch by giving away a Bradley but 4 unarmed Bradleys are much less deadly than 3 that are fully loaded.

  Mark and the family hugged and said goodbye to all the soldiers they had befriended throughout their short relationship with them. They all said they would see each other very soon and Mark was certain that would be the case. When they finally got to Vincent he pulled him aside “First thing when that truck comes, get your gas and get the hell out of here” Mark told him. “We are fairly certain our not arriving in Atlanta has alerted them to our defection. You guys absolutely must get on the road ASAP.”

  Vincent knew he was right and was already stressed out about it. It was going to be a long day to wait out already and with the threat of the cartel coming in just made things even worse. Mark reminded him that it was all speculation, maybe they wouldn’t even see them and they would all just cruise right to the cache tomorrow. Vincent knew the possibility of that was about zero. The men hugged and the rest of the family took their turns afterwards. When they were all done saying goodbye the family loaded into the Armadillo and silently rolled out of camp.