Brian Steele - 4POCALYPSE - Four Tales of a Dark Future

“And that door there,” Angela continued, “is a room full of weapons, more than you can imagine.” She shook her head in disbelief. “When I get back and we’re sure this place is clear of assholes like these we’ll come back for the weapons—”

“And food,” Jasmine cut in. “Or advertise that there is food here and it can be used as an outpost.”

“Outpost,” Angela said more to herself. “Not a bad idea… especially since the tornadoes seem to bounce all around this place but never on it. For the last nine months I counted over thirty tornadoes go by and not one veered in this direction. It’s the same for Owen’s place.”

“Funny how that is… New weather pattern, I suppose,” said Jasmine as they walked the room, checking out the vehicles, determining what she should do next. She turned to Angela and said, “If you come with me, we split the bounty, fifty-fifty. But if you come with me, I won’t take your orders.”

“Officer Jasmine Cooper, your reputation precedes you,” Angela said in a serious military manner. “I want to make it home, alive. You lead, I follow, and we kill the son of a bitch. Deal?”

“Those two crotch rockets,” Jasmine said, nodding toward to two BSA 650 Super Bikes hidden in the corner. “We should be able to outrun a tornado and make it to Owen in no time.”

“Let’s get these vehicles topside and the women loaded and on their way,” Angela said, smiling with eyes that showed pure hatred. She looked as if she was thinking this was going to be fun.

It was then that Jasmine seemed to recognize her. She had met or seen her before.

In a room inside the garage were more weapons than Jasmine had ever seen. Whenever the small band of outlaws was able to capture someone, they kept everything. The weapons and gear were in pristine condition as if they were proud of their souvenirs. The room also had shelves and drawers filled to capacity with money, jewelry, clothes, shoes, anything they felt was worth keeping, anything that at one time had a value and would maybe have a value once reconstruction started.

There were four other female Gendarmerie Police Officers captured and incarcerated when Angela Tanner’s platoon was taken down, and their weapons and gear were stored in the room. The women, along with the Cotter family, were fully armed and outfitted for defense and the elements. The four police officers had grown since captured and the elements no longer frightened them. Nor did Owen and his men. Angela had given them orders to shoot first, and then evaluate the situation. When they were captured, they were ambushed when they stopped to help a woman who looked trapped beneath a jeep. Not one officer kept a good visual while trying to dig the woman out. After they were captured, they realized the woman was simply lying beneath a staged accident. Afterwards, the woman was sent to Owen along with the men. Toby had discovered that the woman was incapable of bearing children and Owen had taken a liking to her for other reasons. Toby was ecstatic to please his master.

Jasmine and Angela sat on their BSA’s and watched as the small caravan disappeared into the darkness. Angela watched as her four friends and subordinates protected the rest of the group as if they were protecting their family. One of her teammates was badly wounded when they were captured but not badly enough to be spared being raped repeatedly and made pregnant. She delivered a small, premature, undernourished boy three weeks ago that was immediately taken to Owen.

“The odds of that baby being alive is slim to none,” Jasmine said as she keyed her rocket and cranked it over.

“We know that,” Angela answered, “but that doesn’t mean we don’t look for the bastard who killed him, cooked him, and ate him, even if it’s not one and same person. Clear?”

“Roger that.”

Jasmine was taken aback when Angela checked her pistol. It was an exact duplicate of hers. “My baby brother made it for me,” Angela said, smiling, noticing that Jasmine was eyeing the pistol. “He made two for you and one for me. Sent it to me just before we took off. It is a remarkable piece of work if I say so myself.”

Stunned, Jasmine didn’t know what to say.

“You do realize that Tank is madly in love with you and will move mountains to be with you? So you better get that skinny butt of yours back there or I’ll kill you myself,” Angela continued, laughing at Jasmine’s expression.

“But he… he and I… we never… I didn’t…”

“Oh, but he would if you’d get your head out of that pansy’s ass you been dating,” Angela said with a chuckle and smirk. “Someone told me you were psychic, but I’m not so sure I believe that if you can’t tell that a man as huge as Tank, who drops everything he’s doing to help you, isn’t in love with you. Either you’re blind or your psychic skills suck.”

Embarrassed, Jasmine didn’t know what to say. She watched as Angela cranked over her rocket and nodded in the direction they would head. They took off into the night. The roar of the rockets overrode the roar of a new tornado that skipped up and down past the camp.

Little did Angela know, she would become the commander of the first outpost and the movement to push the government to come out of their shell, the safe haven they called the City of… The prison in which she was kept would soon become the Outpost of Kansas-Oklahoma barrens.

Jasmine led the race across the Kansas-Oklahoma barrens at over one hundred miles an hour on a roadway that somehow managed to stay somewhat smooth and clear of debris. The superbike was a thrilling ride, even under dark skies and the brown-fogged mist that hung in the air she could feel the rush of being alive. It was as if she did not have a worry in the world. Maybe knowing she was going to die made living even that much more enjoyable. Maybe knowing she was going to die, she didn’t care if she took unnecessary chances. Or, it could have been just knowing she was getting closer to the Last Pharmacist kept her pumped up. Whatever it was it was thrilling.

She heard Angela come up beside her and slowed until they were beside each other. Then Jasmine fell in behind her. After about fifteen minutes, Angela swept off to the right and pulled up behind a cement wall that was once a supporting wall for a bridge that had one time stretched across the road they were using. Angela switched off the bike, dropped the stand, and dismounted.

Jasmine pulled up. “What’s up?”

Angela nodded to the bike and Jasmine switched it off.

“Get your rifle,” Angela said.

“Shit,” Jasmine cursed. “I take it, Tank told you about my sniper rifle.” Angela nodded. “Remind me to give him a piece of my mind when I see him.”

Angela laughed. “He and I are very close, and neither one of us ever believed you and I would ever meet.” Angela started across the road. “On top of that wall is a perfect spot to see Owen’s little community, and if my stomach is right it’s getting close to dinner time. We’ll be able to see who is who and you might be able to take the son of bitch out from here. After that, we go in and kill every fucker who is one of Owen’s finest, take a couple of pictures, and do whatever else you need to do to prove you killed him. We then let everyone else out and I’ll take them on to Oklahoma.”

Jasmine followed Angela up the hill. About two feet from the top of the hill was a cement platform that supported the bridge before it crumbled and was then swept away with one of thousands of tornadoes.

“And you saw this, how?” Jasmine asked with a bit of skepticism in her voice.

“Don’t freak,” Angela answered. “Owen had the hots for me for a while until he realized I wasn’t an easy fuck, and they dragged me back and forth between his and Toby’s camp.”