The Eros Plague Epoch Pt. 08

"One, two, buckle my shoe," the rifle roared between heartbeats, and the bandit on the bluff folded in half, falling forward and off the edge toward the water.

"Thee, four, knock at the door," I took the one at the top deck of the stairs. Their head snapped to one side.

"Five, six, pick up sticks," the third, in the middle deck of the staircase, was ducking, trying to place the noises that were ripping through the air when the body of the first bandit hit the water. They looked over the railing just long enough to be thrown to the ground with another shot.

"Seven, eight," it took a moment to track the last one, they'd had time to move, "lay them straight," and they'd moved to the bottom of the stairs, shouting up to the deck. Their head splattered the rock wall behind.

"Holy shit," Nala stared, hands over her ears as she turned to me, but I was already on my feet. There was one round left, and I hope I wouldn't need it, but you never know, better than to need and not have.

"It's all yours, pretty lady," I burst into a run, making a beeline for the fishing boat I'd come in as the sharp crack of the old hunting rifle rang behind me.

The boat was ready to go, my gear set. I'd brought it as close as possible when we'd wrapped up our second round of fucking. It's been a good chance to clear my head, getting the tactical brain back in control.

The motor started up smoothly after a couple of adrenaline-fuelled rips at the pull-starter, and I was off. Now was the crazy part, the part that would be the difference blind luck makes. I was gambling my life on the utter lack of combat skills

I'd seen, but even one ex-cop, one ex-soldier in that house of the remaining four... I'd be a sitting duck.

I hit the gas, pumping all the power I could out of the little motor, and swung around the edge of the island into the channel. Another shot rang out from Napa's perch, and I could hear panicked small arms fire from the bluff, but this low, no sightline. Holding my breath to forge ahead, keeping low, letting the noise and blazing sunset do their job to cover me. I kept the Benelli, it's last round ready in the chamber. Just in case.

I was nearing the docks when the small arms pointlessly firing into the void between the island and the bluff began to taper off. Someone was shouting orders, I could hear the tones of a commanding voice above. I couldn't make out the words, but they seemed angry.

Nala kept the pressure up, firing at regular intervals, and I was close enough to hear the rounds impact the rock above, bouncing off the metal frame of the house. She had potential. I tied the boat and grabbed my bag. The Colt went into my belt, sawed-off handy for the climb.

Racing up the stairs, I breathed slowly, inhaling deeply to keep my heart rate even. Steps above as I hopped over the corpse of the bandit on the middle deck, sprawled on the metal and wood stairs. They'd set themselves up behind the railing, struggling with a Glock that had jammed badly. Semi-autos, slick, but too sensitive for the end times.

I saved the round and wrestled her to the ground, breaking her neck as she blacked out. Three left... I hoped.

The steps rattled beneath my feet as I hustled along. There were no more along the stairs, and the grounds had gone silent but for the sounds of scared people somewhere inside. Crying, not angry shouting, but fearful crying, rang out.

Nala stopped shooting as I got to the top of the stairs. She wouldn't fire again unless I had pursuers when I left. The house's huge glass wall shone in the sunset, obscuring my vision, I wouldn't be able to see inside, but now they could probably see me if they were looking, so I booked to the treeline as the double doors to the huge deck flew open and a big man carrying a pump gun strode out.

"I see you," he bellowed, running toward the trees. "I fucking have you," he fired, the pellets splattering through the trees, shredding the leaves where I'd been a moment before.

He was all of fifty yards from me, and I could play it safe, but fuck that. The Colt barked as the man began to level the gun but the bloom of the hole in his cheek, the back of his head bursting out behind him, stopped him in his tracks. Two left.

I moved. Always move.

The inside of the house was a disaster, they'd been camped out in the big centre room, using the huge square of leather couches as bunks, by the look of things. I scanned the space, pistol in my right, sawed-off on the left. I could hear crying, lots of crying, from somewhere upstairs. They'd be holding them hostage, it was the move anyone would make. The last two were most likely together, keeping their captives handy for leverage.

Padding gently, I slid up the stairs after clearing the downstairs. The house was so huge, such a victim of modern design, that it was painfully fast with just a bathroom to scan. They hadn't planned this well. They'd chosen the place never expecting someone like me to come calling.

Upstairs was a long hallway, four doors spread across it. The upper bath was at the end by the stairs, two guest rooms in the middle, one large primary at the end. I cleared the first two, thanking modern taste for its pathetically unimaginative layouts, and slid into the dark third room. The crying was loud here, but still muffled like in the hallway. Someone had been sleeping in here, enjoying themselves in here. The windows were wide open. A pretty blonde woman was tied to the bed on a leash, and she sat bolt upright, bright eyes red and burning at the sight of me.

A roar blew the wall open just feet from me, shotgun pellets filling the room in a shower of birdshot and wood shards, blurring the space between me and the Redeye woman. I spun away, but too late, my right cheek flamed painfully along with my back along the shoulder blade as I fell to the floor.

One of the bandits stood in the hole, screaming filling the room behind her. Rolling, I pointed the sawed-off, a solid round threw her back in a shower of blood. A gun cracked, and a cold fire lit in my left side just above my hip, sending me back to the floor, the sawed-off slipping across the floor.

The blonde yowled, bouncing on her bed madly, and began to howl. Footsteps in the hall as I struggled to get to my feet, blood streaming down my side and my right arm.

"You must be some hot goddamn shit," a deep, grating voice echoed. Outside, howls filled the air, roaring across the night, and the girl on the bed began to thrash.

"Fuckin' muties been circling since one'a the others turned and got to her, she was a great piece of ass before that. She yours? That it?" He fired, the bullets pounding into the bedframe and mattress as I desperately rolled away. The blonde wailed in rage, smashing against her bonds.

"Shut up, bitch," tall man put a bullet into the Redeyed blonde. She fell back to the bed, gasping as her life geysered from her ruined chest.I sat up, firing my weapon as my arm shrieked in pain, but I was wide. He flinched away from my shot, "fuck!"

I struggled to one knee, I was losing blood, and needed to take care of it fast. The howling outside was getting closer too fast, those things were too fucking fast. The man that had shot me was turning slowly, even wounded I was faster. His knee was smashed by the.357 load.

"Where's the boy," I croaked. "Where's Bailey?!?"

"Aaaagh, you mother fucker!"

Unsteadily, I stepped toward him, pressing a pillow case to my wound, pulling back the hammer on the Colt. I took his gun away with the hand holding it, he screamed.

"Uncle Cal," my ears perked to a quaking child's voice.

"Never mind." A round blew through the bandit's temples.

Bailey was hogtied along with a young latin man that looked to be around his late twenties, and four young women, two who looked to be easily in their teens. Nala's sister was one of them, and I cut them loose quickly. Bailey burst into tears, hugging me tightly, and I couldn't bear to let him go even though it hurt like hell carrying him.

The man introduced himself as Luis, and he and one of the younger girls, a pretty brunette with a short bob named Quinn, tried to help me as we hustled through the house, holding a pillow to the entrance and exit of my gunshot with a pair of taped on pillows. I was stumbling, injuries stacking up against me.

We managed to get down to the dock when the howls hit the property, and the smashing of windows and furniture echoed through the night as we piled into the little boat. Luis helped Bailey get it going, and we met Nala back at the beach a few minutes later, Redeyes rampaged up and down the dock and balconies in the twilight behind us.

I was struggling to stay conscious, Luis holding clothing over my leaking bullet wound. "Bailey, get us home," I managed to blurt out, "doctor... there." The light faded from my eyes, and it was dark.