G Hopf: Driver 8: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

He glanced through the gun port and saw the sun had just dipped below the horizon. Soon he’d need to find a place to bed down for the night. He wasn’t sure what was ahead but he did recall an old abandoned town just north of him. It was off route, but there were numerous buildings and one could provide the cover he’d need for the night. With his decision made, he turned the wheel left and hit the accelerator.

The road was narrow and winding, hugging along the sides of the steep hills to his right. He came up on a sharp S turn and slowed. Debris littered the road just ahead of him giving him pause as it looked like the perfect place to get ambushed. He carefully maneuvered around everything taking notice of a small drive to the right that cut up the steep slope, he didn’t recognize it. The last turn was just ahead. He drove around it and came face to face with a roadblock. He slammed on the brakes. With the road being narrow, he couldn’t turn around, his only choice was to go back and pull into that driveway he remembered seeing. He put the truck into reverse and began to retreat.

Bright lights kicked on and beamed down blinding him.

From behind a large five-ton military truck approached, blocking the road and preventing him from exiting. He was trapped with nowhere to go. Frustrated at his predicament, he slammed on the brakes and cursed, “Shit!” He wasn’t going anywhere. Was this it? Had he driven his last mile? Not one to go out without a fight, he grabbed his rifle and readied himself for a gun fight.

“TURN OFF THE ENGINE AND EXIT THE TRUCK. KEEP YOUR HANDS HIGH OR WE WILL SHOOT!” boomed a voice from a bullhorn.

In front of him he counted eight shadowy figures approaching. He looked over his shoulder and through the rear gun port and saw some coming from behind.

“TURN OFF THE ENGINE AND EXIT THE TRUCK. KEEP YOUR HANDS HIGH OR WE WILL SHOOT!”

With only one choice, he did as they said. He turned off the truck’s engine, slowly opened the door and stuck his hands out to show he was unarmed.

“STEP OUT, KEEP YOUR HANDS HIGH!”

He did as they said. Once out he got a better visual. In front of him standing tall were eight armed men, all in uniform. Behind him he had the same.

“WALK TO THE FRONT OF YOUR VEHICLE AND PLACE YOUR HANDS AND FACE ON THE HOOD.”

He did as they ordered, praying they weren’t going to take him prisoner only to sell him into slave labor.

Several men surrounded him. One came forward and patted him down. “All clear.”

“Hey, who are you guys?” he asked.

Someone stepped up behind him and said, “You can get off the hood.”

“Thanks,” Kyle said wiping his hands and face off, then turned to see who had stopped him. Standing a foot away was an older man in a camouflage uniform. “Hi.”

“Where you heading?” the man asked.

Finding no reason to lie, he told them the truth. “I’m heading to Adelaide, it’s an old ghost town. I’m looking for a place to rest for the night.”

“Where are you coming from?”

“The Collective,” he answered. His curiosity grew as he looked closer at their uniforms. “Say who are you? You guys look, legit.”

“We’ve heard reports the leader of The Collective is dead, is that true?”

“Yes,” Kyle answered.

“Are you just passing on rumors you’ve heard or do you really know?”

“I really know because I’m the one who killed him.”

A shocked look appeared on the man’s face. “You killed Xavier Smith?”

“Yes,” Kyle replied.

In the distance a man called out, “That means you’re Driver Eight.”

Kyle looked and saw a man approaching. He walked slow and deliberate. When he got close the others stepped out of his way. He walked up and stopped directly in front of Kyle. “Who are you and why did you stop me?”

“I’m Major Avery, but you sir, you’re the infamous Driver Eight,” Avery said holding out his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

First he was being stopped and frisked, now he was being greeted with compliments. He took the man’s hand and shook. “Nice to meet you. Again, who are you?” Kyle asked motioning to all the soldiers and their vehicles.

“I hear you’re trying to get to Adelaide. Well, it’s off limits, sorry.”

“You’re not going to answer my question are you?”

“I think we have the prerogative.”

Kyle nodded. “Why is Adelaide off limits?”

“On the account we’re using it as a staging ground,” Avery answered. His arms folded in front of him. On his shoulders he had patches, one an American flag and on the other a unit patch. On his chest he had his name tapped over one pocket and US ARMY, over the other.

“Are you United States military?” Kyle asked, his tone clearly indicating he was shocked. “I thought you all had died off or disbanded. No one’s heard from anyone with the old government for…well, forever.”

“We are the United States Army and I can attest we haven’t disbanded and we’re all very much alive.”

“Where have you been?”

“Cheyenne Mountain,” Avery replied.

Kyle cracked a smile and chuckled. His chuckling quickly turned into laughter.

Avery looked at Kyle strangely, his brow furrowed, “What’s so funny?”

Kyle laughed so hard tears came to his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Avery continued.

“It’s a long, and I mean long story, but the irony of running into you guys now is comical.”

“I’m happy you find this humorous,” Avery said, his tone signaling he was becoming annoyed with Kyle.

Thoughts came of Tiffany and that fateful day. His laughter stopped as his face tightened and jaw

clenched, “Where were you when we needed you?”

“I don’t understand,” Avery said. “Are you feeling well?”

“I fine…” Kyle said and paused as he thought. “Scratch that, I’m not fine. I’ve driven these roads for almost two decades. I’ve been everywhere but no sign of you. Now you show up? Why? People needed you and you weren’t there.”

Avery broke eye contact with Kyle, he nodded and replied, “We’ve been regrouping.”

“For nineteen years?”

“It’s a long story,” Avery answered using Kyle’s own words.

“What are you staging for?”

“I’ll tell you what, come back to The Mountain. There we can debrief you on everything.”

“I can’t do that. I don’t have time to waste. So I’ll say my goodbyes and head back south. I’ll let you boys do whatever you’re doing,” Kyle said turning around and opening the door to his truck.

Avery nodded at a couple soldiers. They stepped towards Kyle, one slammed the door while the other took Kyle by the arm.

Kyle chuckled and said, “Let me guess, you insist?”

“Yeah, we’d like to talk to you about The Collective and what not,” Avery said.

“There’s nothing I can say to convince you?” Kyle asked knowing his fate was all but sealed.

“No and please, don’t make us force you.”

Kyle pulled his arm forcibly away from the solider and stepped up to Avery. “You’re old enough to remember. Tell me, there was a message on loop telling survivors to go to a set of coordinates. Was that real?”

Avery sighed and nodded, “It was. We took in an additional thousand before shutting it off about six weeks after. Why did you hear it?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Why didn’t you come?” Avery asked sincerely.

Kyle didn’t answer. Once more thoughts came of Tiffany and that winding mountain pass. There wasn’t a day in the nineteen years since it happened that he hadn’t thought about it. Over and over he replayed the events trying to find an answer to the question of why. He blamed himself. If only they had left earlier, hell even later, if maybe they hadn’t stopped or if he had kept driving, just maybe he would have seen the warning signs and prevented it from happening. It was all a matter of space and time.