G Hopf - Driver 8 - A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

“Sir, why am I here?” Porta asked nervously.

Ignoring her question he kept reliving that day. “I saw you sitting there and knew right then that I had to do something. There was so many helpless children like you were. What were you, twelve?” He asked still focused on the day they first met nineteen years before.

She nodded.

“I just knew my purpose was just beginning. And lo and behold, here we are, so many years later standing next to each other again. You married to the most notorious driver The Collective has had and me, a recent widower, but fulfilled with my life as the leader of this great society.”

She had met him before but never under these circumstances. Even though she never spent much time close to him, something seemed off about his appearance and she couldn’t put a finger on. His skin was pale and dark circles traced the skin under his eyes. He didn’t look well, but maybe he was just an overweight and unexercised older man.

“You are still happily married aren’t you?” he laughed.

“Yes, very,” she answered thinking the question out of left field.

“I can see you’re upset, so I’ll just get to the point of why I wanted to talk to you in private.”

Thank God. Portia thought.

“When was the last time you talked to your husband?”

The question made her nervous for Kyle’s safety. “Three or so days ago. Why, is something wrong? Has something happened to him?”

“Oh no, no. He’s fine. I was just curious if he talked to you recently,” Number One said.

“No, like I said I spoke to him days ago. He relayed a radio transmission through the network like he normally does. All he told me was he going on a new mission which was going to extend his return by a week or so.”

“Nothing about what or who this new mission was?” Number One pried.

“No, nothing, exactly like I told you.”

Number One stared hard at her. A long and very uncomfortable pause elapsed before he spoke. “Very well.” He turned away from her and headed towards his bedroom.

“Is that it?” she asked.

He stopped and turned. “Yes, that’s it. By the way, thank you for coming by and being so…honest.”

“Of course.”

“And tomorrow, make sure the children are ready for the testing. It’s imperative we get ahead of new virus. Nasty stuff. Goodbye, Portia,” he said before turning and disappearing into the bedroom.

Portia exited the room as fast she could and rushed out of the house. When the front door closed behind her, she exhaled heavily and began to cry. She hated feeling such fear. She hated feeling so powerless. She hated him beyond words could describe.

Kyle wasn’t going to leave the Nail without Barry by his side. So when Barry didn’t show up after ten minutes, Kyle marched down the hall of the brothel to the room Candace said he was in and without knocking, kicked the door in.

Inside Barry was putting the last of his things into a back pack. “What the hell?”

“You’re late. Hurry up.”

“I don’t know who you think you are but this is bullshit.”

“Like I said, your father sent me here. I was just doing my job scavenging in The Wastes when I got the call to come find you. I take my job as a driver serious and when Number One asks me to do something personal for him, I do it. Now, hurry up.”

“Give me a few more minutes.”

Kyle leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms.

Barry glanced back and barked, “Don’t stand here and watch.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“My father will punish you for your disrespect, you watch,” Barry threatened as he stuffed the bag with the last of his clothes.

“I’m not worried, now put on your shirt and let’s go.”

“Where’s Sal?” Barry asked referring to Driver Ten.

“Ten is in the parking lot waiting on us. We’re all going back together.”

Barry put on his shirt and smirked, “Sal is a freak, a straight up freak.”

Knowing what that meant, Kyle became irritated. “Driver Ten will face consequences when he returns to The Collective, trust me and you, well, I’m not sure what your father will do.”

Barry laughed and quipped, “You’re clueless, man.”

“What does that mean?”

Throwing his pack over his shoulder and without answering Kyle’s question, Barry laughed then walked out of the room.

“What do you mean he’s gone?” Kyle barked.

“He’s gone, simple. He got into his rig and tore out of here,” Conrad said.

“What direction?”

“North.”

Kyle grunted and walked off towards his truck.

Barry was at the truck laughing. “That motherfucker took off, classic.”

“Driver Eight, Driver Eight!” Candace called out from across the parking lot.

Kyle turned to find her running towards him.

“Here, take this, please,” she said handing him a thick envelope.

“What’s this?”

“Some money I’ve had stashed.”

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“You’re a gun for hire, right?”

“No, I’m a driver for The Collective.”

“But I’ve heard you drivers are like vigilantes or mercenaries. I don’t know the correct word, sorry, no education.”

He handed the envelope back and said, “I’m not sure who you think I am but I’m not a gun for hire.”

“Please, take it. Just come back and free us, especially the kids. I could see it in your eyes. You’re a different kind of man. I saw the rage building in you, you know this is wrong and you want to stop it.”

He stepped back from her. “I’m not a gun for hire and this is none of my business.”

“But your friend in there, the guy with the burned face. He came back, I talked to him, he said he knew you from before the war, he told me all about you. That you two were partners. He said you were some sort of hero cop. Please, come back and save us from this. We’re all slaves, there’s nothing we can do. The little kids, they’re brought in from…” Candace said before being interrupted.

“My friend Tommy can help you, he’s Leviathan, this sort of stuff is what they do,” Kyle said.

“He’s gone now, if I had known I would have given it to him,” she said, her voice stressed.

“Candy! Get your ass in here now!” Frank hollered from the back door.

“I have to go or he’ll take it out on my little boy. Please, come back for us. I know you know this is wrong. Save us,” she said walking away.

Kids? He thought. Needing to know, he called out, “What did you say about the kids?”

Frank marched over to her and grabbed her roughly by the arm and spun her around. “You shut you fat mouth, bitch!”

“What about the kids?” Kyle hollered again.

Candace gave him one last look before being dragged back inside the bar.

Confused and conflicted, Kyle was tempted to go rescue her right then and there but his mission was leaning against his truck whistling. Knowing he was outgunned and outmanned, he went to his truck and said, “Get in.”

“I think she likes you,” Barry joked.

“Shut up,” Kyle said tossing his stuff in the back.

Portia Grant loved her role in The Collective. She still remembered rejoicing the day she received the slot for teacher. It was a rewarding position but like others, it had its unique pitfalls and today was one of them.

Unable to think clearly after the events yesterday, she had the kids recite the tenets of The Collective until the hour came for them to go get tested.

“Devin, read the first of the tenets, then Kathy you next and so forth down the row. I want the reader to read it, then the class repeat it out loud. Understood?”