G Hopf - Driver 8 - A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

“I need to know. I feel like she’s been a part of our marriage.”

Giving in fully he said, “Five weeks after the war I discovered a radio broadcast coming from a military base, Cheyenne Mountain. It was a recording that repeated over and over. It said to come to a specific set of coordinates for aid. We were low on food and fearful that bandits operating close by would come to the camp. With no weapons at all to defend against such an attack and with the prospect of me finding more food, it seemed like the best, let me rephrase that, only option we had. So, we loaded all the kids on bus. I was in a pickup truck with another counselor. After several hours on the road I started to get drowsy. It was suggested we switch drivers so we did. Not minutes after we got back on the road were we attacked. The woman with me was killed, shot through the windshield. The truck turned hard and started to roll, I was thrown from the truck. Next thing I know I wake up. I’m not sure how long I’d been out, but I was badly hurt. I look and see the bus and Tiffany on the ground, she look terrified but still she showed a strength and resilience I haven’t seen before. She signaled for me to stay down. Seconds later the bus moves and I never see her again.”

“I’m sorry,” Portia said.

“I passed out again and when I woke up next I was being put into a van. The rest is written in the annals of The Collective.”

“Is she why you became a driver?”

“Can we please stop talking about this?”

“No. I need to know.”

“I’ve held a tremendous amount of regret since that day. I was helpless to stop what happened and to be honest it does haunt me. I have nightmares about what happened to her, to all of them, especially the children.”

“So you became a driver with hopes that you’d find her.”

“It’s not like that,” he countered.

“I know you love me, Kyle; but I sometimes think you’re not in love with me. That you have that special kind of love reserved for Tiffany. Maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s shame, I don’t know but it forces you onto the road, driving mile after mile in hopes you will find her.”

“I never got closure. One minute she’s there, the next gone forever. I just wasn’t ready to let her go,” he confessed.

She put her arm out of through the cell bars and said, “Take my hand.”

“What?”

“Take my hand, put your arm through and try to take my hand,” she said.

He did as she said. When their hands met, she slipped her slender fingers into his rough and callused hand. “I love you and I’m in love with you, Portia Grant. You’re so precious. I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Sorry it took so long.”

“You’re a good man. A true romantic. Promise me if we get out of this and I somehow disappear that you’ll never stop looking for me.”

He squeezed her hand and said, “I promise.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied.

The entrance to the prison cells opened with a loud clang and jolted Kyle awake. He looked out between the metal bars and saw he and Portia were still holding hands. “Portia,” he whispered.

Silence.

The sound of hard soles shoes clapping on the tile floor echoed down the walkway.

“Portia, wake up, someone is coming,” he said tugging at her hand.

“Huh?” she asked, her voice groggy.

“Someone is coming.”

“What time is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. With no outside windows I can’t figure if we’ve been asleep for an hour or ten,” he answered.

The footfalls grew closer.

“Is there anything you can use as a weapon over there?”

“I looked already, there’s nothing,” she replied.

“Wake up little love birds,” a familiar voice called out.

“It’s Barry,” Kyle said.

Barry approached Kyle’s cell and looked in. “Good morning Driver Eight, did you sleep well?”

“I thought we had a deal,” Kyle said.

“We did, but when I saw you standing there, I decided to renegotiate.”

“This is for how I treated you, isn’t it?” Kyle asked.

“To be honest, yes. I won’t lie, I need tough and obedient men like you on the road driving for me, especially after the changes I’m going to be making. The Collective is now under new leadership and with that comes a new vision.”

“What did you say the other night? I’m replaceable?”

“I did say that. I also said, I was going to dance on your grave and fuck your wife.”

Kyle clenched his jaw and growled, “When I escape, I will cut you to pieces.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. You my friend have a gathering to go to then promptly after that, there’s a big beautiful tree waiting for you.”

“I’m going to kill you slowly,” Kyle threatened.

Barry began to laugh, he gave Portia a look and asked, “Say goodbye to your husband.”

“Go to hell,” she snapped.

“Guards!” Barry hollered.

A minute later four guards appeared. The lead guard stepped forward and said, “At your service, Number One.”

“Has the truck departed yet?” Barry asked the lead guard.”

“No.”

“Good. Take her to the processing center. I want her on that truck. She’ll fetch a decent amount at the auction.”

“Yes sir, the lead guard said walking up to her cell and unlocking it.

“Don’t take her, no, don’t do this,” Kyle pleaded.

“Too late, I already have a buyer in mind for her,” Barry said.

“You don’t want to kill me. You can still use me, let me be your instrument that keeps this place in line. If you save her life and mine, I will forever be indebted. I will owe you my life and gladly give it in service for the rest of my days.”

The offer was intriguing to Barry. He paced for a few minutes, his thoughts bouncing all around in his head. He stepped to just outside of Kyle’s reach and said, “It’s tempting, but I have to decline.”

The guards moved into her cell and apprehended her without much of a fight.

“Resist!” Kyle exclaimed.

As she passed in front of him, she looked into his eyes and said, “I love you.”

Not allowing her to leave without speaking his feelings, he replied, “I love you too, and I’ll search for you until my dying breath.”

Portia and the guards disappeared around the corner.

Barry snapped his fingers. Four guards, all armed with taser batons stepped forward. “Take him to the forum, it’s time for justice to be served.”

Kyle lay on his side in the back of a van. His body ached and throbbed from the beating he just received in the jail cell. There was no amount of physical pain that could take away the emotional anguish he was feeling. Portia was being sold into slavery and once she was gone, finding her would be almost impossible.

The van came to a stop. The rear doors opened washing him in the sun’s bright rays.

"The sun is out, that’s a good luck sign for our new leader," a guard said. He reached for him but was met with the sole of Kyle’s boot. The guard reeled backwards. Three other guards swept in with taser batons and began to strike him all over. The electrical charges were too much for Kyle to take, the core of his body went rigid while his extremities twitched. With him unable to fight back, the guards dragged him out by his legs, letting his head hit the bumper and allowing his body to fall to the hard surface. They laughed when he grunted in pain.

The guard who Kyle had kicked walked up and kicked him in the ribs. “Take that asshole.”

Kyle groaned.