The Survivalist: Madness Rules - BestLightNovel.com
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The man with the cigarette took a drag and then tossed it away.
"What do you want to know?"
"Let's start with what you're doing here."
"We're doing what everyone's doing-trying to keep our bellies full."
"As well our other needs met," his partner said, his eyes drifting back toward Samantha.
Seeing Tanner's hands tighten on the shotgun, the first man quickly cut back in.
"I'm Lars and he's Yo-Yo."
"Yo-Yo?" said Samantha. "Like the toy?"
The bald man smiled at her.
"It's just a nickname, baby doll. I bet you got a nickname too."
"What about you folks?" asked Lars. "Where you headed?"
"We're going over to the White-" she started.
Tanner cut his eyes at her, and she fell silent.
"Where's the rest of your gang?" he asked.
"Gang? No, brother, you got it all wrong. It's just the two of us."
He lowered the shotgun's point of aim to the man's knees.
"Hey, hey!" Lars said, dancing around. "Don't be like that. All right, you got me. We may have a few friends in the vicinity, but it's not like we're a gang of criminals or nothing."
"Right, I'm sure you're just a couple of choir boys out distributing bibles."
"Well..."
"Kick over the rifle and machete."
Lars reluctantly did as instructed.
"You can't leave us without no way to defend ourselves," said Yo-Yo. "It's dangerous around here, especially after dark."
"You mean without a way to defend ourselves," corrected Samantha.
"What?"
"Without no way would mean that you have a way, which of course you don't."
Yo-Yo turned back to Tanner with a confused look on his face.
"What's she talking about?"
"It's a unique form of torture that only she has mastered." He leaned down and slung the machete out into the gra.s.s. "Sam, unload the rifle."
She hurried over and picked it up. The weapon took her a moment to figure out, but she finally found the magazine release. After tossing the magazine over to Tanner, she pulled the slide back and ejected the round from the chamber. It clattered away into the corner.
"Do you want me to get that one?" she asked.
"Yes."
She set the rifle down and scoured the floor until she found the missing round.
"Girl's good with her hands," Yo-Yo said, licking his lips.
"Both of you turn around a couple of times, nice and slow."
They did as they were told. Tanner didn't see any additional weapons or ammunition on them.
"Stay here ten minutes. And I mean ten minutes. I'll leave your ammunition over by the Vietnam Memorial. Friendly word of advice: don't come looking for us."
"Sure, brother. Why would we come looking for you? Just don't forget to leave the ammunition. Bullets are hard to come by around here, DC being what it is and all."
"They'll be there."
Tanner and Samantha slowly backed out of the structure, neither of them confident that this would be the last they would see of Lars and Yo-Yo.
They hurried along the edge of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool. It was the first time either of them had ever been close to the two-thousand-foot-long body of water. There was no temptation to drink from it, however, as there were dozens of bloated corpses floating on the surface.
Tanner tossed Yo-Yo's magazine out into the pool.
"Hey," she said, "you told them-"
"They should be thankful I sent them on an Easter egg hunt instead of beating them to a pulp. I chose the softer, gentler approach that you're always hounding me about."
"I wouldn't have minded so much with them. Especially Yo-Yo."
Tanner snorted. "Now you tell me."
"Do you think they'll follow us?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder.
"Not if we hurry."
They broke into a jog, and a few minutes later were stepping into the World War II Memorial. The elliptical memorial consisted of forty-six pillars adorned with bronze wreaths, all surrounding a pool of stagnant green water. They quickly ducked into a small walled-off service area and turned back to watch the Lincoln Memorial.
After a short time, Lars and Yo-Yo came out, took a quick look around, and hurried off to the north, presumably to find their ammunition.
"I think we're clear," he said.
"Look at what Yo-Yo did."
Tanner turned to see Samantha squatting down next to what looked like a doodle on one of the granite walls. The cartoon showed a bald-headed man with a long nose peeking over a wall. The words "Kilroy was here," were scribed above his head.
He chuckled. "Yo-Yo didn't do that."
"Are you sure? It looks a lot like him."
"I'm sure. Ask an old veteran someday, and maybe he'll explain. Right now, we need to move."
They hurried through the World War II Memorial, heading straight for the Was.h.i.+ngton Monument, a stone obelisk that towered more than five hundred feet into the air. A tractor-trailer had sideswiped the monument, taking out a corner of the base before flipping over and catching fire. Black scorch marks licked their way up the side of the distinctive two-tone white marble structure. Despite the damage, however, the monument stood straight and true. They slowed and walked past the architectural marvel, staring up at it like it was a monolith meant to reach the G.o.ds.
"This was always my favorite monument," she said. "It reminds me of a giant pencil."
"A giant pencil?"
"You don't think so?"
He looked up at the enormous structure.
"Are you kidding me? It's like six hundred feet tall."
"Right. That's why I said giant.'"
"Fair enough."
They pushed on, turning north on 15th Street. Cars were absolutely everywhere, filling the street, jamming the walkways, and stuck in deep ruts in the adjacent gra.s.sy field. People had been desperate to escape the city, but most had become trapped in the exodus.
"It's amazing how many people got stuck here," she said.
"That's because they forgot the golden rule of evacuating."
"Which is?"
"Get out early, or don't get out at all."
She looked into one of the cars and saw the dried corpses of two middle-aged women. Sisters, she thought. Both of them were leaning back in their seats as if they had simply given up and gone to sleep.
"Yeah," she said. "I see your point."
They worked their way through the maze of cars, finally approaching Pennsylvania Avenue. The street was filled with M113 armored personnel carriers, M2 Bradley Fighting Vehicles, and light armored HMMWVs. Nearby cars were burned and riddled with quarter-sized bullet holes, some still containing charred bodies inside. Lying around the cars were hundreds of decaying bodies, most of them civilians. Dried blood was spattered all across the walls of an adjacent office building, further evidence of their horrific end. A plaque out front identified it as the Department of Commerce.
"What do you think happened here?"
"Looks like a ma.s.sacre to me."
"I know that. I mean why did the army shoot all these people?"
"My guess is that they demanded answers from their leaders. That doesn't usually end well."
"You don't think my mom could have ordered this, do you?"
He shook his head. "This looks more like the work of frightened soldiers."
Samantha suddenly grabbed Tanner's arm and pulled him behind one of the Bradley Fighting Vehicles. The rear ramp was down, showing the infantry seats and internal workings of the vehicle.
"Someone's coming," she whispered.
He peeked around the vehicle. A group of four armed men were making their way down the middle of the street. Tanner turned and looked for a way out. Huge government buildings lined both sides of the street, offering no alleyways or obvious escape routes. They could retreat back down 15th Street, but that would put them at risk of overstaying their welcome.
Going into the Bradley didn't make sense either. There was no way to close the rear ramp without hydraulic power, and he sure as h.e.l.l wasn't going to try to start the vehicle. The heavy vehicle was equipped with a 25 mm chain gun, 7.62 mm machine gun, and anti-tank guided missiles, none of which he had the foggiest idea of how to operate. It was perhaps a perfect fighting vehicle, but in his hands, it was nothing more than a bulletproof box with a gaping hole in the back.
He turned to Samantha. "Go inside and hide at the front of the vehicle."
"You sure?"
"No, but it's what we've got. Stay there until they pa.s.s." He tossed his pack on the floor of the Bradley.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to give them something to chase."
"How do you know they'll chase you?"
"They'll chase me."
"And you'll come back for me?"
He tipped his head. "Do I really need to answer that?"
"No."
"Ten minutes, fifteen tops."
She looked less certain.
"Just stay put," he said. "I don't want to have to tear this city apart looking for you."
Tanner stepped out from behind the Bradley Fighting Vehicle and overturned a couple of garbage cans on the sidewalk. The four men took notice and quickly veered in his direction. Once he was sure that he had their undivided attention, Tanner bolted across 15th Street and ran east on Pennsylvania Avenue. He heard the men shouting for him to stop, followed by the distant popping of gunshots. Bullets ricocheted off the wall of the nearby building, and a car window shattered about ten feet to his left, but nothing was close enough to really worry about.
He ran hard for several hundred feet, finally reaching 14th Street. A Round Robin, Cafe du Parc, and a host of other restaurants lined the street. More gunshots sounded, but they were even further off their mark. Tanner glanced back and saw that all but one of the men had fallen behind. The fastest of the bunch was tall and fit, probably on the high school track team at one time. With his thick wavy hair and high steps, he looked a bit like Bruce Jenner in the 1976 Summer Olympics.
Tanner turned north, pa.s.sing a Marriott Hotel on his right as he dodged his way through another thick maze of cars and military vehicles. He made it all the way to F Street before finally accepting that he wasn't going to outrun Jenner. He hustled around the corner and ducked into a doorway of a small cafe. Sweat dripped down his face, and his heart pounded as he tried to catch his breath.
Thirty seconds later, his overly sprite pursuer raced past the open doorway. Tanner stepped out behind him, hoping to catch him by surprise. Unfortunately, Jenner spotted him in his peripheral vision and skidded to a stop. Before he could turn around, Tanner smashed into him from behind, driving him into a cement pillar. The rifle in Jenner's hands flipped free, clattering under a nearby newspaper delivery truck.
Tanner tried to sideswipe him with the b.u.t.t of his shotgun, but Jenner spun away with his hands at the ready. It would have been easy enough to put a load of buckshot into the man's chest, but he didn't want the rest of the gang knowing which way they had gone. Then again, he didn't want them catching up to him either. This had to be quick.
He set the shotgun down a few inches in front of his feet.