Ryan Westfield - Surviving Chaos

Mandy laid her gun down carefully on the ground. There was nothing else to do. There was no way she could make a move in her own defense without receiving a bullet to the head.

“What do we do with her? Shoot her?”

“That’s what I was thinking, but I just got another idea.”

“What?”

“What if we put her to work?”

“Put her to work?”

“Yeah, your lazy ass is hard to get out of bed half the time. And you do a shit job and you know it.”

“Come on, man, don’t be like that.”

“Look, you’re still going to get your cut of the profits, but you’ll have someone else helping you. Why would you complain about that?”

“I’d never looked at it that way,” said the skinny one.

“Of course you hadn’t. You’re an idiot.”

“Well, I don’t see the harm in it. But why wouldn’t she just escape?”

“Come on, we’re not going to let her just have the run of the place. I’ve got some chains that’ll do nicely.”

“Chain her up?”

“What the hell do you think I meant?”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” said Mandy, looking the bigger guy in the eye for the first time. “Just let me live. I’ll work all day. Whatever it takes.”

The big guy chuckled. “See? She’s already agreeable to it. Come on, let’s get a move on it.”

So she wasn’t going to be killed. But it’d be hard to escape from chains.

Max would come for her. Probably with James.

But it wouldn’t be easy to find her. Not if they were going to take her away in the truck. Who knew how far away their pot farm was.

The big guy made some signs at the deaf mute behind her, who grabbed her arms with great force and started dragging her towards the truck.

Mandy got her first look at Danny, the deaf mute. He was huge, six and a half feet tall, with massive muscles. His hair was so long and matted that it got mixed up with the beard that ran down to his chest. He was older than the others, with streaks of grey and wrinkles that lined his strange, intense face.

Danny shoved her roughly into the cab of the truck. He pushed her into the middle of the cab, and sat himself in the driver’s seat. He was so massive that he took up most of the cab, his body pressed uncomfortably into hers.

The skinny guy was loading the water into the bed of the truck.

The banker-looking guy got into the driver’s seat, squishing Mandy even more.

“Now I know what you’re thinking.”

Mandy didn’t say anything. She was going to play the part of the obedient servant. Until it was time to escape. And then she’d have no hesitation in killing them all. If that was what it took. And she had a feeling it would be.

“You’re thinking you’re going to attack me or Danny here while we’re driving, and then escape. Let me dissuade you of that silly notion. See this?”

He took his gun out of its holster and stuffed it into the left side of his waistband.

“You’re not going to be able to reach for this. And one false move, and we’ll simply shoot you dead. Not to mention Danny’s going to be holding onto you so tightly, you’re not going to be able to move, let alone escape.”

He signed at Danny. In response, Danny tightened his grip on Mandy. She winced in pain.

He started the truck, and soon they were barreling down the dirt road.

“Where are you taking me?” Mandy ventured to say.

“To our farm. Haven’t you been listening?”

“I know,” said Mandy. “I’m just curious where you had it. I imagine you’d have to be very clever to hide a large grow operation.” Hopefully flattery wouldn’t fail her now.

It worked.

“You know, you’re not quite as dumb as you look. Hell, you’re probably a shitload smarter than Sam there in the back of the truck. Nothing seems to get through his thick skull. Anyway, we’ve got a nice little operation tucked away in the state hunting grounds. No one’s found us so far. And the couple people that have, well…” He ran his thumb across his neck, showing that they’d murdered the hunters.

“Very clever,” said Mandy. “I’d never have thought of that.”

“Well, I’m pretty smart.”

The state hunting grounds. That was where Max and the others would be heading. Maybe there was a chance she’d be rescued after all. But she remembered the maps, and the hunting grounds were substantial in size.

The noise of the dirt bikes was only getting louder.

“They’re coming right towards us,” said John.

“It could just be a coincidence,” said Cynthia.

John shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

He had a pair of Dale’s binoculars pressed to his eyes.

“Are they from the compound?” said Cynthia. “Can you see them?”

“I can now. They’re… shit…”

“What? What is it?”

Cynthia heart was already beating rapidly.

“They’re wearing military uniforms,” said John.

“Maybe they’re actually from the military.”

“There’s no way,” said John. “I bet they’re from the militia. From the suburbs.”

“From near Philly? That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they be out here? You know how far away we are.”

“They must be expanding,” said John.

“But how can you tell? Lots of people have military uniforms.”

“They’re kind of hodge-podge,” said John. “They’re definitely not official issue. There’s only one thing to do, and that’s take them out.”

There was a look on John’s face that Cynthia hadn’t seen before. And it scared her. It was an intense look, absolutely terrifying to behold. It was something beyond anger, beyond normal emotions.

“We can just hide,” said Cynthia. “They’ll never see us if we get out of the way. They’ll drive right by.”

“They might be looking for us.”

“What? You’re paranoid. If they’re not from the compound, why would they be looking for us? How would they know we’re here?”

“Either way,” said John. “We’ve got to do something. You want to just sit back and let them take over this whole area?”

“You’re making too many guesses here, John,” said Cynthia. “Come on, take some deep breaths, and try to calm down. We’ve got to keep clear heads about this. That’s the only way we’re going to remain alive. Come on, come with me. We’ll get out of the way.”

John jerked his arm away from her when she went to grab it.

“You do what you want,” said John. “But frankly, I don’t understand it. These are the same men who killed your husband. Remember?”

The memory was painful. Tears started to well in her eyes. She’d never get the image of her dead husband out of her mind. The way his body had lain on the lawn like that, completely limp, the life from his body completely and so cruelly extinguished.

“I’m going to get them,” muttered John, lowering his binoculars. “You can help me or not.”

The vicious look on his face was still there.

Cynthia had never seen him like this, so intent on initiating violence when they weren’t personally threatened. Sure, they’d both hardened up over the last weeks. But nothing like this. After all, they knew nothing of these two men on the dirt bikes. They might be innocent. Or as innocent as someone could be after the EMP.

John was rummaging through his pack. He found a length of rope that had come from Dale. He tossed the pack behind a tree, and started tying the rope to a tree branch.

It was a thin rope.

“I saw this in a movie once,” said John, flashing a strange, distorted sort of grin at her. “If they follow this path,” he gestured to the ground, “they’ll have to curve around this tree here. They’ll never see the rope until it’s too late.”