Lovin' in the Apocalypse

Hello readers! Just a little heads up, I was not able to fit a sex scene in this chapter. I waited until the next chapter was finished so I could post them both together. This way, no one has to wait for the sexy stuff.

Last time on, Lovin' in the Apocalypse!

Tom and Gregg leave camp during a state of emergency.

Rachel, unable to resist the pull of physical comfort, seduces Cameron. Using an empty cabin, the two of them made love without regret.

What happened outside the walls while those at camp lived in fear? Find out now!

Chapter 16: The Chase

The flat black truck crept up the road with infinite patience. Gregg was feathering the accelerator, making sure the engine stayed as quiet as possible. All the windows were down so the men inside could look and listen for any sign of the attacker. Rifle barrels poking out of each window, ready to unleash a storm of bullets in any direction. The crunching of the truck tires sounded ominous and loud in the silence of the cab.

"There's a ranger station about a mile up the road," Gregg said, finally breaking the silence. "We can check there first."

The guys in the backseat of the truck all knew where the attackers were and wanted to steer towards them. They had to play it out though. If they gave too much information, it would be suspicious. They also knew they had to find Dave and his posey before they gathered more infected. It would be pretty fucked up to get killed by their own plan.

"Should we split up?" Kenneth asked. "Some of us can check the ranger station and the rest could move to the next area."

"We only have one vehicle," Gregg reasoned. "We'd lose more time back tracking."

"Good point," Kenneth said, trying to come up with a different approach. "I guess we just have to be quick."

Gregg and Tom shared a quick look. Neither one of them felt comfortable with the strangers and were certainly not okay with being ordered around by them. They would have to be careful, watch each other's back, and stay ready for anything. Tom checked over his rifle, making sure the black man-eater was ready for battle. He preferred his bow in most cases. As they were leaving home though, Tom opted to exchange it for an AR-15 and a couple of spare magazines.

When they got to the path that led to the ranger station, Gregg floored the gas pedal. They did need to hurry and with such a short ride from the main road, the engine noise would not give the attacker enough time to scramble. Gregg slid the truck to a stop, just a few yards away from the front door. They all hurried to get out of the truck as fast as possible. Rifle barrels trained on windows and doors as they spread out in front of the station. It looked completely still and untouched. Gregg could tell this was probably not the right place.

"Alright," Gregg said, gathering their attention. "I've been here before, I know the layout. I'll lead us in and we'll do a quick sweep. Don't bother looking for loot, we've already picked it clean."

They formed up on Gregg, appearing professional and comfortable in the unit. These were all survivors and fighters--sweeping a building for threats was something they did nearly every day. Gregg was the only ex-military person with official training, and was impressed with the strangers' skill. They moved with semi-coordinated ease to the front door of the station. Bruce produced a handgun with a silencer screwed in the barrel.

Tom was not trained or war tested, but he had good instincts. He realized, with Gregg leading the charge, he would need to position himself at the rear. They could not trust their companions enough to turn their backs on them. In the hustle to get to the door, Tom made sure he was the one to get to the door first. He stood with his hand on the handle, ready to pull it open and hold it for the rest of the guys. Gregg gave him a long, knowing look and nodded.

"On three," Gregg said, holding up three fingers.

He dropped them one at a time and when Gregg's pointer finger joined the fist, Tom quickly pulled the door open. The five of them filed into the station, keeping their rifles up and ready. Tom went in last, following behind Kenneth who almost hesitated before entering. The dark haired man gave Tom a lingering glance, as if to say, 'you won this round.'

The small group made quick work of the outpost. Like Gregg said, this place was picked clean and there were no signs that anyone had been here recently. Kenneth was slightly annoyed by the waste of time but kept his mouth shut. He did not tell the group of men about the infected woman that was crawling towards them from behind. He saw her but knew if they turned to look, she would hide from them. Kenneth had gotten into the habit of keeping up with where his wife was, without broadcasting it verbally. Eventually, she will get someone and then they'll believe him.

The men quickly reconnected at the truck and made their way back to the road. Kenneth looked out the back glass at the abandoned building. The broken and twisted form of his wife was dragging herself out of the front door, following them with a maddeningly slow pace. It seemed impossible that she could ever catch up to them. She would catch them, Kenneth knew. He had been trying to outrun her for weeks. He half hoped she would grab someone soon. The diversion might be a good way to escape her trajectory.

"So," Kenneth said, showing no signs of his mental breakdown. "Where are we headed this time?"

"There's a few hidden holes like that ranger outpost on this road. A gas station and general store are a little ways up. Again, picked clean, but they might be laying low in one of those."

"Cool," Kenneth said, leaning back in his seat. "We'll follow your lead."

The truck that was full of angry and armed men moved up the road at a steady pace. They were headed straight for the gas station.

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Dave felt like something was wrong. The warm air and the hot sun were bearing down on him and making him sweat. Running that attack at first light had been risky and tacky. In the past, they moved the infected mobs during the day, when they were less aggressive. Keeping it going during the night was a good way to get killed. That was what Bruce ordered though. The instructions had been crystal clear and they had performed the task flawlessly.

He felt exhausted now, sitting in a lawn chair on top of the gas station. Dave could not relax. Before coming up here, he had given E and Andy each a dose so they would leave him alone. He did not even dig for something from Andy. Dave was too worried about the nervous nagging in his mind. A problem was trying to get his attention but he could not figure out what had him so paranoid. He wished the afternoon sun would set already.

Below him, E and Andy were sitting on a dirty floor with their backs to the wall. Their relationship did not slip back into normal after that time with Dave. Andy could not let go of how E just sat there and let it happen. She realized that she was not important to these men and would be discarded by both in an instant. With that in her heart, Andy was determined to earn her way in this insane job. She pulled her part while rounding up infected and was just as deserving of a payday as E was.

E felt bad about what happened to Andy and wished he could have taken action against Dave. He fantasized about being back in that room when Dave raped Andy. He imagined himself, pulling the fat man off her, and beating him down. He imagined scoopin Andy up, stepping over the broken man, and carrying her away from that awful life. Things were all fine in E's imagination and that was where the man dwelt.

In the absence of their normal rowdy behavior, a stillness had settled in around the gas station. Dave could hear the sound of the individual bits of tobacco burning as he inhaled the smoke of a stale cigarette. The cloud he blew from his lungs hovered in the air--no breeze was there to carry it away. The land was holding its breath in anticipation. The hair on the back of Dave's neck stood up. He sat up, could not hear anything, but knew he was in trouble.

Dave threw the cigarette to the ground and stood up. He felt like ants were covering his skin and needed to get moving. A single idea was pulsing in his mind like a strobe light. 'Escape!'

He quickly descended the metal ladder and grabbed his pack off the ground. Dave had not trusted the junkies enough to leave his shit near them. He hesitated for a half a second and considered grabbing his "friends." They had just used and would be too slow to react. Dave turned away and ran for the small, grey sedan they used to get here. The trap was closing and he was smart enough to feel it. The other two would be left to fend for themselves.

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"Alright guys," Gregg said, showing his rank with a tone. "The gas station up here has a lot of escape routes. Plus, if someone's on the roof, they'll see us coming. We got to hammer down and get in fast."

Tom let out a long breath and checked over his rifle. The magazine was firm and a round was in the chamber. His finger was resting on the safety switch, ready to flip it as soon as the door opened.

"We're ready to boogie," Bruce said with a chuckle.

The men in the backseat all did similar things with their weaponry, making sure everything was in order. Gregg would not need to do such checks, his gun awareness could not be more ingrained into him. He could be miles away from his rifle and know its exact condition. It was even possible that Gregg would be the first one out of the truck and ready to go when they came to a stop.

The truck was nearly at the crest of a hill when Gregg put the pedal to the floor. The engine roared to life and sent the vehicle into action. They saw the gas station as soon as they broke over the hill. It looked deserted, but so did everything else. They could not see anyone on the roof either. It only took them a few seconds to close the distance and Gregg started a hard deceleration in front of the station door.

They filed out of the truck and aimed their rifles at the store. The glass windows were too murky to see through but it appeared that the front door had been recently opened.

"Someone's been here!" Tom hissed. "Recently!"

"Stay sharp," Gregg responded, moving towards the door. "Follow me in and spread out."

He put a hand on the door and took a deep breath. Gregg glanced at Tom who gave him a nod. Letting the breath out slowly, Gregg yanked the door open and stormed inside. His gun was up and sweeping through the shadowy areas. He could not look back at the others; Gregg had to move forward and trust his ass was covered.

"Movement!" Stephen cried out. "He's got a gun!"

Suddenly the air was filled with a thunderstorm of gun fire. Gregg did not fire, he was strafing to get cover and realized that it would not be necessary. A stranger had poked his head up from behind the cashier counter with a pistol in his hand. The three people from the other group wasted no time in opening up on the man and riddled him with bullets. His lanky body was now draped over the counter and still. A woman suddenly screamed loud enough to cut through the ringing in all of their ears.

Gregg rushed over, keeping his gun ready and peered over the counter. A blonde woman was laying on the ground, a pool of blood spreading out from around her. She looked up at Gregg with miserable, pain filled eyes. He could see blood pouring out through her fingers as she tried to cover the wound in her stomach. She was beyond helping and Gregg would not have tried anyways.

"Why did you attack us?" he asked her coldly.

The woman opened her mouth and nothing but more of her life came out. He stared at her for a few seconds and then moved away from the counter.

"That was too much noise," Gregg said, facing the others. "Run a quick search of the place. We got to get the hell out of here."

Bruce and Kenneth made hard eye contact. They knew one more was supposed to be here. Dave should have been with these two. The men spread out and quickly searched for signs of where the rat was hiding. Bruce searched the outside area while Stephen went to look on the roof. Kenneth was nervously scanning the interior of the store, trying not to panic.

'How could that fucker slip away?' He thought.

Tom was looking over the bodies, trying to learn something about them. He could see the drug paraphernalia scattered in the murder scene and assumed that's the reason this raid had gone so smoothly. They must have been too baked to hear the truck coming. He could not see anything else worth digging into. It was pretty on-the-nose that they would be attacked by people with drug problems. Outcasts that only knew how to hurt, even themselves.

Bruce and Stephen both managed to find signs that pointed to another person being here. They shared their findings with the others.

"There's a chair on the roof; someone was up there recently," Stephen said. "And there was a cigarette that was still lit. It looks like someone ditched it in a hurry."

"I found tire marks over there," Bruce added, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "Someone just took off."

"Let's go," Gregg said, quickly moving to the truck.

A few infected people were lumbering towards the gas station, drawn in by the guns. Gregg knew they would have to take a different road home; this area would be crawling with them soon. He maneuvered the truck back onto the road and aimed them in the direction Dave had taken. He sped off towards an evening filled with blood and chaos.

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Dave steered the car down the road in a panicked escape. He had heard the sound of gunfire--automatic weapons pouring bullets into something close behind him. He was frantically dodging rusted out vehicles and obstacles with no concern for the condition of his ride. Dave's face was red, covered in sweat, and his eyes were bugging out. He felt betrayed and alone, already aware that this whole operation had been a set up. All the twisted details added up. Dave began to make promises to whoever was listening. If he survived this, he would burn Kenneth's shit to the ground.

Dave knew he was in trouble. This road was long and had no convenient break away streets. The residential roads were covered in debris and growth, to take one would leave an obvious trail. He considered leaving that path to follow. If he could find a house or something to hold up in, maybe he could set up an ambush. Dave was not exactly defenseless out here. He had a few contingency items in his pack for situations like this. As much as he thought this was the right move, Dave lacked the courage to actually stop the car. He pushed the speed as much as he dared.

The grey sedan rushed towards a hill without a lot of obstacles. An obvious path was on the road, two lines in the growth made by passing vehicles. It was the sign that Dave used to find and attack the camp the first time. That felt like ages ago now. Back when he still had control over his life. He floored the accelerator, hoping to use the clear stretch to gain some distance on his pursuers. At the crest of the hill, Dave glanced in the rear-view mirror and was relieved to see a long stretch of empty road. The glance was just long enough to cause him to miss seeing the random infected human that was crossing the road.

"Jesus!" Dave shouted at the last second before impact.

The car smashed into the creature and it exploded in a burst of red. A chunk of the torso hit the windshield hard enough to send it straight back into the cab of the car. Dave was sprayed with glass and gore that cut his skin and obstructed his view. He reflexively tightened his grip on the steering wheel but any chance of stopping the sideways skid was far beyond his reach. The car's front tires slid off the asphalt and dug into the soft dirt on the shoulder. The weight of the car, mixed with the speed it had been traveling, dug the front-end into the ground. That was all the leverage required to send the vehicle into a vicious spiral.

For Dave, the accident happened in slow motion. His stomach lurched when the rear of the car jumped into the air. For a half second, he saw the ground moving through the shattered windshield and could almost make out individual blades of grass. When the car slammed into the ground, Dave was sent crashing against the roof. A sharp pain bloomed out on top of his head and the sound of crunching metal filled his skull. The car rolled again and Dave fell against the center armrest. A popping in his chest suggested a few ribs broke during the impact. Another tumble caused him to hit the crumpled roof again and from that point, Dave's awareness faded to black.

A few moments later, Dave regained consciousness. He was not entirely aware of where he was or why he felt so much pain. An all consuming ringing was in his head and made it impossible for him to focus. Blood was running down his face from a deep laceration on his scalp. He could not take a deep breath, his chest felt full of knives. On instinct, Dave crawled out of the wreck and laid out on the grass. His numb right leg did not seem to be able to help in the escape. The trees and sky were red tinted, spinning, and made him feel nauseous.

The car was currently flipped on its top and black smoke was rolling out of the engine. Dave saw this cloud rising in the sky and felt panicked by it. Adrenaline was flooding his body and the pain in his body was like a distant throbbing. He did not quite understand the flighty feeling but knew staying here was a bad idea. Moving in autopilot, Dave reached into the destroyed vehicle and retrieved his leather backpack. He did not remember why he needed it--the only thought he recognized was the one telling him to flee.

Not too far away from the accident, Dave saw a building that looked like a small grocery story. He began limping towards it, his right leg nearly buckling under his weight. The pain was sobering and each step cleared a bit of the fog from his mind. Dave remembered that he had been fleeing for his life. He remembered hearing the sound of guns opening up like thunder and felt a sniper's cross hair on his neck. Dave tried to move faster, the distant building promised him cover, but his body could not handle the stress. Sweat and blood poured off him, leaving a trail that even a child could follow.

By the time he made it to the building, Dave was shaking from the pain and shock. He still could not hear anything through the ringing in his ears. The feeling of being hunted like an animal had replaced the confusion. His mind was still reeling from the concussion he received, but Dave was aware of the danger behind him. Once inside the old general store, he hissed out a slow breath, and began to prepare for visitors. Dave opened his backpack and pulled out the small, customized submachine gun. The MP5 looked like it belonged in a science-fiction movie. Dave attached a drum magazine to the weapon and charged it with a slap.

Dave made one more preparation for the incoming attack. Though it was against his policy, certain allowances had to be made. He knew the damage he sustained during the crash would slow him down. The people coming for him would have too many advantages to counter entirely but he could curve some of them. Dave pulled a small bag from his pack and observed the contents. His pride and his doom resting in such an unassuming manner. It did not seem fair to him that this would be his reward for offering a unique opportunity. Who else in this dead world could offer an escape? He opened the pack and dumped the contents into his mouth.

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Gregg stopped the truck at the top of the hill. All the men inside were looking at the crashed vehicle with pinched expressions. They had seen the dark smoke climbing into the sky and approached with heightened awareness. They kept their eyes on the surrounding trees. They were lucky to be in a place without many places to hide. The car itself offered some cover but they would be able to see someone pretty easily.