Kiss My Apocalips Ch. 03

As we approached Corvallis, we encountered more and more wrecked cars that were still on the roadway. In a few places, it looked as if abandoned vehicles had been moved. I was in the lead, but twice, I had to get out, and then direct Doriana to shove a car or pickup out of the way. Thankfully, the big truck had a sturdy front bumper.

We turned left onto another major road just before coming into the city itself. I don't think we would have been able to proceed through the downtown area anyway due to the number of empty cars. This took us along the southern edge of the OSU campus, due west toward Philomath. Wanda had expressed no interest in visiting either the school or her old part-time workplace. The football stadium loomed large on our right.

As agreed, Doriana took the lead and drove confidently through a few neighborhoods. There were lots of bars, restaurants and small stores which were common around campuses; then there was another large neighborhood, then more shops. She pulled into the parking lot of a goodly-sized group of stores, the largest of these was a massive grocery that had its front doors open, though we saw no other people. It looked to me as if it might still be a prime target, but Doriana had other plans, and drove along the line of outlets toward the opposite end of the complex.

The large shop sat beneath a huge sign that said: HOBBIES. To say I was confused would be a slight understatement. My new girlfriend had been almost giddy with excitement in planning this big "surprise" for me. I got out and stretched, looking around. The girls had backed the truck right up to the front door, and now scampered out to join me.

"It's still locked up!" Doriana was saying, smiling broadly. "I knew it! Nobody has figured out what's inside yet!" She turned to me. "Can you get in, Jacob?"

It's hard to argue with enthusiasm like that. "Sure," I told her, and I grabbed my trusty five-foot long steel door-opener.

In less than two minutes, the door popped open, and the girls were inside. Shrugging at the entire concept, I followed them through large display of electric trains and back into the major part of the shop. Then I stopped and stared. The realization of what I was seeing washed over me like a tidal wave. Why hadn't I ever considered this? This was... ingenious! Drones. Hundreds of drones. Everywhere I looked. Drones that were smaller than my hand. Drones that must have been three feet across, and that could pick up (if the package could be believed) forty pounds. Four-rotor drones, six-rotor drones. One eight-rotor model sported "wrap-around" cameras for 360-degree coverage. A sign against the wall declared the shop a member of "The Pacific Northwest UAV Society."

I stalked over to Doriana, threw my arms around her waist, hoisted her a couple feet into the air and spun her around while she shrieked and laughed. "This is remarkable!" I told her.

Wanda was scowling. "I HATE it when I don't understand what's going on! What's the big deal?"

"Now we have eyes," I told her. "We never have to go anywhere blind. We're always going to know what's there before we go. Instead of driving around back roads for hours trying to find a place to live, we can just drive to a mountaintop and fly a camera around. We can search dozens of square miles without taking a step!"

She nodded. "Oh." She thought some more. "How did you know this place was here?" she asked her girlfriend.

"My husband was hooked on this hobby," Doriana answered with a wistful look. "He brought me here one weekend, a couple months ago. Big meeting. He bought another little buzz-buzz thing while he was at it. He introduced me to all his friends, then I went next door to the quilting shop while he had his meeting."

Wanda brightened. "There's a quilt shop? Can you get me in, Jacob?"

And so, we had a very pleasant couple hours, up in Corvallis. I moved the entire stock of that little shop (well, the aviation stock, at least) out to the big panel truck. There was a very good possibility that half of the stuff would never work for us, since most of the smaller items were operated through phone apps that we'd likely never be able to access. I took them, anyway, hoping I'd learn how to program them myself someday. The larger UAVs had their own control and programming consoles, some of which had a Bluetooth range of ten miles, assuming line-of-sight could be maintained (in other words, you couldn't fly it to the other side of a building... nothing physical could come between the drone and its controller and maintain "live" control).

I was itching to get home and try out some of these things, but we paused on the way back when we found another market that hadn't been broken into yet. This one yielded yet another opportunity. It had a large walk-in freezer that was still cold inside. It had obviously been VERY well sealed. I pulled out a box of steaks that was buried under many other items. What a treat! In the meantime, the girls had discovered several cases of beef jerky. We cleaned them out of baking items, as well; and we filled up the pickup and headed back. I was going to have to study yeast. I didn't really know how it worked, but I figured the stuff in the stores wasn't going to last forever. I added that to my mental to-do list.

Doriana took over grilling duties that night while I tinkered with the drones. Wanda baked three potatoes. There were several things in the vegetable section of the store that were still good, onions included. It was a real feast, and there were two bottles of red wine that night, one being non-alcoholic. I found a bunch of recorded music on that old cube, and we sang and danced when we found something somewhat current. It was an enchanted evening.

For the next three days, Doriana and I worked with the drones. We charged up ten of them and poured over the instruction manuals and books that we'd found in that shop. I also pulled out many of the small solar panels that I'd been acquiring to see how long it would take to recharge one of our aerial treasures. At night, we would pour over maps and charts on the dining room table, examining terrain that was miles and miles from the nearest roadways; and even then, most of those roads were unpaved.

On Monday, I called Mr. Gonzoles, my teacher, down in Acton. We started comparing lists of towns that we knew to be still populated. I told him about Aurora, up near Portland where Frank had picked up the other bad guys; and Dundee, where Doriana's job at a medical center (and Rocko's checkup at a veterinarian) had spared them; but not her husband, since they lived further north. (Of course, I didn't tell him HOW I knew about those places.) He supplied the names of other towns: Sweet Home, Dexter and Sisters.

As I expected, they were more-or-less evenly spread out geographically. Mr. G wasn't a prof or researcher, but he wasn't a dummy, either. He saw it, just as I did. The Event hadn't been a natural occurrence. Not that it mattered, he told me. I concurred with that, too.

In Acton itself, about half of the residents had lined up to support the mayor and the sheriff, making supply runs into Eugene and trying to organize some sort of social structure in order to survive as a group. But at the sheriff's insistence, they hadn't resisted when numerous other inhabitants had splintered and taken off in every direction, believing that they could fare better on their own. I most certainly understood that. I felt exactly the same way myself.

Tuesday night, we made our final plans for our first big foray into the Coastal Mountains; and the next morning, we were on our way! In the whole state of Oregon, there are only a half-dozen decent-sized highways between Interstate Highway 5 (which runs up the westernmost states from Mexico to Canada) and the Pacific coast. There are hundreds of minor roads, of course, meandering all over the place; but lots of those are logging routes, not much better than gravel-covered trails. We took the black EV pickup back toward Acton, then I took a lesser-known road around it, and we headed in the direction of the ocean on Highway 126 (one of those aforementioned half dozen major roads. This one connected Eugene and Florence, on the coast). After only thirty miles of that, however, I cut north on an un-numbered state road, and then back east on a logging road. My destination was a 3,000-foot peak called Walkaround Mountain. It had been logged, and we had an uninterrupted view toward the south that included the roads we had just traversed, as well as miles and miles of wilderness.

We had three of the big six-rotor drones with us. The girls preflighted the first device and got it paired to the controller while I spread out a few solar panels to recharge them when they returned. Our goal was to stay here for several hours, exploring and picnicking. Rocko took off after some scent only he could detect, but he returned with a sad expression a few minutes later. Of course, Rocko always has a sad expression; yet another unfathomable trait of dogdom's weirdest breed.

Doriana was designated as the first pilot. With a whoop and a cheer, we watched the thing take to the sky and start out on its programmed flightpath. In only ten seconds, the whine of its rotors disappeared and silence reigned. We had determined, through trial and error, that the little craft was undetectable (if you didn't look up at it) above an altitude of about a thousand feet. Wanda watched the thing with a pair of binoculars for a minute; but then she lost it and scrutinized the tablet, which we were using as a monitor. It had a clearer picture than the holo-viewer. She zoomed in on a cabin, down beside a small creek. I looked over her shoulder and commented that it was way too small for what we wanted a dwelling to provide. She shifted views, following the small stream, and found another. Then another.

Pulling the image back, she searched a larger area for a while. And what occurred next was nothing short of a million-to-one shot. I still can't believe we actually happened to be in just the right place at just the right time.

"There's a van down there," Wanda said calmly. "And it's moving."

I studied the monitor. "No, it's not."

"It just stopped," Wanda told me. She waited. "See? It's moving again."

And so, it was. "Take over manually and hover," I told Doriana.

"Okay, Jacob."

"Time on station?" I asked.

"Eighteen minutes." The drone was programmed to return before it ran out of juice.

"Can you descend to half your current altitude?" I asked her. I wasn't sure I knew how to do that myself.

She thought a moment and touched the controller's screen. "Yes. There, I've done it."

In the monitor, the image grew considerably. "It stopped again," Wanda said. "A guy just got out. He has a gun."

I gave a little huff. "Just hunters. This is good training, though. Look forward, in the direction he's walking. See if you can see what he's stalking. I'd love to see some elk out here."

On Wanda's tablet, the view pulled out, shifted, zoomed back in. "Jacob! Is that...? Is that a girl?"

I stared over her shoulder. "What the hell?" I said aloud. It was a naked woman. The view was sharp and clear. She was running away from the armed man, and she was wearing red tennis shoes and nothing else.

"Doriana, what's the bearing?"

"One seven six, Jacob."

I pulled out a compass, then picked up the binoculars. "I see the van!" I told them, looking steeply down the hill. "I see it!"

"There's another road, closer to where she's running," Wanda said confidently. "Along that creek, see?"

I wandered over and looked. She pulled the view back a little, and I could see the road she was talking about. The girl was trying to make it to the stream. She was almost there.

"He shot her!" Wanda screamed. "Oh, my God! He just shot her! He killed that poor girl!"

"No," I told her. "She's still moving. She's up and running again." But she didn't make it far. She stumbled, fell, got back up. She seemed to be staggering now, still moving away from her attacker toward the creek. We both watched in horror as the man advanced toward the faltering female. "What in the world?" I exclaimed. "He just set his rifle down next to that fallen tree. What the heck's he doing?"

"He's going to finish her off with his bare hands," Wanda said harshly.

Fascinated, we couldn't stop watching. Doriana was beside us now, and we all stared at the image on the tablet. The girl was still moving, still struggling. He hauled her to her feet, grasping her around the waist and by one of her breasts, and he pulled her over to another tree that had fallen beside the little river. Unceremoniously, he draped her over its surface, then he spent some more time pawing her pert breasts. Finally, he stepped back a pace and began undoing his belt.

"He's going to rape her," Doriana declared solemnly.

I quickly strode over to the truck and back again. I tested the walkie talkies to make sure they were receiving each other, then handed one to Doriana. "Wanda, in the truck! Now! Leave the tablet."

"Yes, Jacob."

"Doriana, don't make any calls to me. Only respond when I ask you a question."

"Okay, Jacob."

"Time on target for the drone?"

"Fourteen minutes."

I climbed in behind the wheel. All four of the truck's tires spun gravel as I tore off back down the mountain.

"Shouldn't we have brought the tablet so we could see where we're going?" Wanda asked.

"It's not good out of line-of-sight from the controller. We'd lose the signal. I memorized the route from the video."

"Okay, Jacob." She was silent for several seconds. "Do you think he's going to kill her?"

"I don't know."

I was driving pretty recklessly, but I kept it on the narrow roadway. It took me about five minutes to get down, less than half the time it had taken driving up, but we made it back to the wider dirt road we had departed to go up the mountain. I turned right, toward the van, but found the little side road almost immediately and turned left, downhill. I spotted the creek to my left. We were paralleling it, and I kept the speed up until I saw the massive rock outcropping I was looking for. I stopped, turned off the vehicle, reached back and pulled out one of the assault weapons.

"Doriana, time on target?" I said into the walkie.

"Eight minutes, Jacob."

"When the drone starts back, leave it on automatic and launch the second one. Is the girl still alive?"

"Yes, Jacob. I think she's okay. But he's... he's...."

"Don't call me, Doriana. No talking until I contact you again."

"Okay, Jacob." She was whispering. I smiled at that. Then I realized I was alone in the truck. Oh, no! Wanda!

I was out and moving along the creek, downstream. Then I saw her. Wanda was facing me, her back against a large Douglas fir. She was looking at me and shrugging, silently mouthing the words "Where are they?"

I put a finger to my lips, urging quiet, and I pointed further downstream. She nodded determinedly, and ducked around the trunk of the tree, moving away from me.

NO! I wanted to scream at her, but instead, I picked up my pace and hurried after her. The little river was making a lot of noise, anyway; and I doubt he would have heard an elephant charging. I readied my weapon.

As I cleared a big fir, I skidded to a sudden halt and took in the tableau before me. The man was right beside the stream, facing away from us, his pants around his knees; and he was leaning heavily between two splayed, naked female legs, plunging forward and back at a pace as old as nature itself. The woman was beyond my line of sight, but she was obviously lying face up on the trunk of the fallen tree. Wanda had shouldered the man's rifle, taking careful and deliberate aim.

There was a loud "POP," but it was far below the decibel level of a normal firearm. The man suddenly arched his back, and he took a big step back away from the supine girl. "Ouch!" he screamed. "Mother fuck!" He spun around to face Wanda. At the same time, he reached back with one hand and tried to touch something in the center of his back. He was sporting a massive erection that arced upward at about a forty-five-degree angle. He brought his hand back forward, looking at something he'd obviously plucked from behind him. He glared at Wanda and took a step toward her, yelling "What the goddam fuck!? You bitch!"

POP.

"Ouch! Summa bitch! Stop doing that!" He reached up and plucked a dart from his chest.

POP.

I hurried forward. "Wanda! Stop! You'll kill him!"

She nodded. "Okay, Jacob."

POP.

"I certainly wouldn't want to do THAT!" she said sourly.

The man pitched forward onto his face and didn't move.

With my weapon at the ready, I walked up to him and used the toe of my foot to roll him over face-up. His eyes were closed, and he was frothing at the mouth. Carefully, I reached down and plucked two darts from his chest, then I worked two others from his hands. I threw them all into the rushing creek. I slung my weapon over my head and moved it around toward my back, out of the way. Then I went to Wanda and took the short rifle from her. Holding it by the stock in one hand and the end of the barrel in the other, I took three steps to the nearest tree and I pushed the gun hard against its trunk. Finally, I handed it back to her. The barrel was curved like a banana. She had the decency to looked impressed.

Then I walked over to where the girl lay, still against the fallen tree by the river. She raised a hand in my direction. "No more," she whined up at me, tears in her eyes. "Please, no more."

"That wasn't me," I told her, keeping my voice low and quiet, just loud enough to hear over the rushing water. "I didn't do that to you. He's over there, on the ground. See him?"

She looked, uncertain.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. But I have to get you out of here before the others arrive."

Slowly, I reached toward her and picked her up in my arms. I set her down again on the log next to Wanda. Then I started examining a metal band around the girl's neck. It was locked with a small padlock, and there was a LED light blinking at one side of it. I thought I could just work one of my fingers under the band without strangling her, and I used both hands to exert pressure in opposite directions.

"Hi. I'm Wanda!" She was trying to be her cheerful old self in the presence of the young woman.

The girl's eyes widened as the band compressed on her neck. Then there was a loud SNAP as the padlock broke. I removed the blinking metal strap. She put her hand to her throat and twisted her head left and right.

"I'm Sofia."

I pulled the walkie from my back pocket. "Doriana, are you there?"

"I watched the whole thing! You did it! You saved her!" she shouted.

"Is the van still there?" I asked.

"Um... yes. It hasn't moved."

"Time on station?"

"Three minutes."

"Standby."

I threw the metal necklace behind some bushes, scooped the girl back up in my arms and turned toward the truck. "We don't have much time! Try and keep up!" And I ran as fast as I could.

Wanda beat me. Cripes, it's hard to be a dashing hero when you're constantly being beaten by a girl. I tried to maneuver the vehicle while talking on the walkie talkie.

"Doriana, what's the status on the van?"

"It's still there, Jacob." She paused a second. "Wait a second." Another pause. "The drone just shut down the camera. It's gone into Auto Return mode."

"Launch the second drone. Let me know when you see the van again." I stopped the truck just shy of the state road, and tried to think.

"What's wrong?" Wanda asked.

"The men in that van," I said, weighing options as I spoke. "They're probably monitoring the signal from that collar I took off her neck. Since it's not moving, I'm HOPING they're thinking that the man who was 'hunting' her is still... uh... using her. As soon as they get suspicious, they'll probably drive down here... to this road... to get to her as soon as possible. If they spot us, they'll most likely start shooting first and asking questions later. This could easily turn into a very lethal running gunbattle."