The Midnight Riders
Chapter Nine – The Story of the End of the World Part Two
The Midnight Riders. It was the name a group of four heavily tattooed, liberally leathered and hygiene deficient bikers used to label themselves to the world. They were a music band. They rose to fame in one evening twenty-seven years ago and had released twenty-three albums in the wake of their success. Even when one of the originals had passed away to be replaced by someone new, the spirit and energy of the Midnight Riders still flowed through the night sky. Ox, Smitty, Jake and Dusty were the Midnight Riders, doing what they could to leave their mark on the world. People like Coach and Ellis loved their music while people like Francis simply loved their style. Even if it could not be immediately seen, the spirit of the Midnight Riders lived on within those people.
In the world that was left behind the mark the Midnight Riders had left could still be seen, not that anyone did, however. Through all of the violence, death and infected the memory of the Midnight Riders, which was once the most popular music group in America, started to slowly fall away to be forgotten like everything else in the previous world. The end of the world meant the end of the Midnight Riders.
Or did it?
This thought was not going through Coach's mind when he sat down with Benedict Bevan that one evening two weeks after they had first met. They were within the perimeter of Benedict's little commune of fifty-four people, one of the first Clans to emerge from the ruins of American society. Benedict and Coach got on very well, even though they had only known each other for a relatively short time. Coach and the others had saved Benedict's life along with the lives of some of his closest people during the recent storms. Benedict would never forget this and would always consider himself to be in Coach's debt, which is why he invited him and the others to stay with him for a while and see what Clan life was like.
In all fairness Coach found it remarkably pleasant. Everyone was very friendly toward him and the others making a welcome change from the psychopaths that they were used to running into. In fact everyone had taken to Clan life like a duck to water. Norah enjoyed getting to know Pam and Waylon, Benedict's advisors. Nick and Ellis appreciated the female attention that they received as the air of post-apocalyptic evenings was thick with hormones. Rochelle spent most of her time with the people in charge of security, sharing weapon tips and combat skills. She was glad to be away from Nick, who she was not fully comfortable with at the time.
The paradise Benedict was living in was almost too good to be true. But it was. The five survivors had tasted serenity and they liked it.
"We can't stay," Norah announced suddenly when the five of them were all together one evening. It had only been a few days and the rain was still pouring, although it was slightly less severe than when they had arrived. The flooding had subsided leaving only soggy, sludgy grass and mud. They were stood outside of one of the buildings underneath a thin overhang that was used as a shelter for people who wanted a cigarette in the world before. Ellis' jaw dropped when Norah told them her opinion.
"You can't be serious."
"I'm afraid I am, Ellis. This place is wonderful, don't get me wrong, but we can't stay here."
"And why not?" Rochelle asked. She was leaning against the wall, her arms folded. "They seem to like us here."
"We can't go committing ourselves," Norah explained. "It's bad enough that we're here now; we've never stayed in one place for too long."
"Maybe that's where we're going wrong?" Nick shrugged. "We only have five of us whereas there are over fifty of them. There's strength in numbers, Norah. We can make a life for ourselves here."
"But we're not supposed to be making a life for ourselves!" Norah cried over the rain. Coach looked around to see if anyone else had heard her yelling but it appeared that her voice was drowned out by the rainfall. "We're supposed to stick together and wait for rescue."
"Why can't we do that here?" Ellis asked. "I know I may not be the brightest light on the Christmas tree but even I can see that we gots ourselves more of a chance survivin' with these guys than we do out on our own."
"What would you rather have, Ellis?" Norah's expression was serious, her tone immediate. "Would you rather live the rest of your days in this Clan or whatever they call it; working for Benedict, sleeping in the bunks and fighting the zombies or would you rather be outcast and one day leave this place and go back to civilisation and never look back?"
"I really don't understand why we can't wait for rescue here," Ellis told her. He was starting to look slightly upset.
"No one is going to come back for anyone," Coach said. Norah looked at him, closed her eyes and nodded slowly to confirm what he had said.
"You're shitting me!" Nick cried while Rochelle remained silent.
"No government of the world is going to risk the virus breaking out elsewhere in the world by mounting rescue operations for the rest of the survivors," Norah explained with a very grim tone. The sky seemed to get darker as she spoke. "The only reason we are getting rescue is because it'll be our reward for our part in taking down the Director. We just need to hide out while Eddy and those other guys do their bit and come and get us."
"That's all well and good," Nick began pacing while holding his finger in the air. 'But what happens if the others don't do their job? What happens if the Director wins; I mean, hell, he's already responsible for the zombie outbreak and we even ran toward almost certain death to be protected from him. What's to say that Admiral guy, your best buddy and a bunch of civvies can pull this off?"
"What's to say they can't?" Rochelle responded. She pushed herself away from the wall as Nick turned to look at her, surprised at her sudden optimism. "I'm with Norah; we need to be independent. If we do get rescued and we're surrounded by guys like these then it could make them realise that no one is ever coming for them and they'd lose that one fragment of hope they have left. The results could be widespread and even more damaging than the virus itself."
"I'm starting to get the feeling that we're not going to stay here for very long," Nick muttered. Rochelle rested her hand on his shoulder but remained silent as he looked over at her. The two merely exchanged looks of sadness and ultimately understanding. Rochelle shared a knowing gaze with Norah and the two turned to Ellis who immediately held up his hands.
"Don' worry; I'm going where y'all are goin'. You folks are my family."
"Yes," Coach clapped his hands suddenly, startling Ellis. "No matter what happens we must always stick together. We must always be a team."
"I agree," Norah nodded, "but in order for a team to be effective there needs to be a leader."
"Why don't you do it?" Coach gestured to her. "You seem to have a good handle on things here."
"I'm not sure about that..." Norah glanced around at the others. Upon seeing their expressions of support and approval she sighed and shrugged. "Oh why not? I was Secretary of Homeland Security. How hard can it be to lead four people?" She held out her hand toward the centre of the group. Everyone then placed their own above hers so that everyone was leaning toward the centre of the circle. "I'll try to do you proud."
"We know you will," Coach smiled at her as everyone broke away from the centre. "So what we need to do now is figure out where to go."
"Or find out how to get there," Ellis suggested. "It's pourin' and I don't really fancy carryin' all my stuff through the thunder clouds."
"I guess we need to find ourselves a vehicle..." Coach thought aloud.
Several days went by as the group attempted to secure a vehicle from Benedict's Clan. Of course cars were incredibly useful in the new world so Benedict would be reluctant to just haphazardly give one away even if he did feel indebted to the people who were in need of it. The thought of simply stealing one from him had crossed through Nick's mind and he even voiced his idea to Ellis who promptly scolded him for thinking in such a way. Ellis told Nick to keep all similar ideas to himself from now on. Coach quietly agreed with Ellis, not so much for the plan being morally wrong but he did not wish to make an enemy out of his friend Benedict on top of the fact he was quite a powerful man. As days turned into weeks, the bonds that everyone developed with members of Benedict's Clan became stronger, the very relationship between Coach and the man in charge being an example of this. With the ground dry and the sky clear, Benedict invited Coach to join him for a drink by the stream. He wheeled his chair out to a nice spot near the main buildings, having young teenager Drake deliver the oil lantern for light, an extra chair for Coach to sit on and a cooler filled with chilled beverages. Coach was surprised to find that when he sat down the bottles were actually of alcohol, a rare sight these days.
Benedict opened two bottles of beer, handing Coach one. He made a toast to friendship, which Coach raised his bottle to and then eagerly began to drink. The bitter taste was delicious. Benedict rested his hands and his bottle in his lap and let out a gentle breath as he looked at the stream that lazily flowed by. In the distance the sun was already beginning to set and the two men simply sat there for a few minutes to watch the view. Another rare occurrence these days was the opportunity to appreciate the sunset without some drama interfering. The two sat there silently for a moment, watching the sun slowly sink toward the horizon.
"So you're not gonna join us?" Benedict asked, his tone light and his eyes focused on the view. Coach glanced at him, the imprint of the light still visible in his eye as he looked away.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Benedict lifted the bottle to his mouth. "You gotta do what you gotta do and I ain't gonna hold you back." He paused for a moment. "I ain't gonna hold no one back."
"It's got nothing to with you, I swear."
"What is the reason?"
"It's us," Coach slouched in his chair. "It's... complicated."
"It's not you it's me?" Benedict summarised with a smile. "Christ, one of my girlfriends used that line on me before she started dating my best friend." A grin formed on Coach's face and he began to chuckle. He ran his hand over his face and sighed.
"We just need to keep moving," he explained.
"Is that what you all agree on or is it just your leader's opinion?"
"Norah loves it here," Coach told him truthfully, "but we all agree that we need to move on. We can't stay in one place too long." Although Benedict did not say anything, Coach got the feeling that more of an explanation was needed. He wanted to tell him everything about the rescue plan, mostly because he wanted to voice how unlikely he truly felt that it was. He admired Norah's optimism but deep down he was more realistic. He spent his life as an educator doing what he could to make sure that his students could reach their potential but he never once gave anyone false hope and he never wished for anyone to bestow false hope upon him. The chances of a rag-tag group of civilians bringing down the director of an organisation who had destroyed the country while pretty much getting away with it was beyond marginal; they were not even minuscule. He longed to stay there with Benedict and live as normal a life as possible but he simply could not and not just for those reasons.
"We've all lost people," said Coach. "I'm not sure we can handle the risk of losing anyone else." Benedict thought this over for a moment, doing nothing except for take another sip of beer. "I lost Ruth, Ellis lost his best friend... hell; Norah lost the whole damn country. We've all got issues, Benedict. There ain't no way we can start committing ourselves after everything we've lost; we're just too damn damaged."
"Say no more," Benedict held up a hand for emphasis. He did not want to make Coach feel uncomfortable. "If there is anything that I can do then please let me know. I owe you."
As the sun dipped beneath the horizon turning the rich orange sky into a dark one, flies began congregating around the oil lamp between them. The breeze left in the sun's wake was cool but the warmth of the lamp was sufficient enough to keep it at bay. Coach took in a breath and finished his bottle, placing it down on the ground.
"Well there is one thing you could do for us I guess," he said in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. Benedict looked over and simply shrugged.
"Name it."
"You have any jobs going?"
"Jobs?"
"Yeah like errands you need running or whatever. I assume you've got a lot to do and you make a lot of the people here do work to earn their keep since a lot of people go out and bring stuff back. I was wondering if we could do something like that for you."
"That sounds an awful lot like work for my people," Benedict smiled as he finished his own beer.
"Think of it as a job accomplished by freelancers," Coach worded it differently. "Anything will do."
"Why do you want work when you don't want to stay?"
"Because of what I want to ask you next," Coach inhaled deeply. "We sort of need a vehicle."
"A car?"
"Anything will do; even one of them small hatchbacks that you got will do us right. We just need something to get us from A to... wherever."
"Coach you saved my life," Benedict reminded him. "You don't need to work for it. You can just take anything you want."
"I don't think so," Coach shook his head. "You've put me and the others up for two weeks. I'm sure Norah would agree that you've already paid back any debt." Benedict sighed. Coach was stubborn so he knew that he would get what he wanted. Benedict counted himself fortunate that Coach did not want anything major.
"You can have a car," he told him. "No problem. Let me think what you can do... ah yes! Drake was going out to return a few gallons of petrol to Jackson and his men."
"Really?" Coach frowned. Considering that Jackson was the man that he had saved Benedict from, he found this news surprising. "Why?"
"Because among other things Jackson believes that we owe him that. It is true that we owe him some petrol and I'll donate it to him along with a car as a sort of peace offering. Jackson only has seven people, including himself in his Clan. We could overpower them, yes, but that's not the way I do things. I prefer to be more civil; it's more humane."
And stupid, Coach thought.
"Anyway the point is your guys could ride along with him... an escort if you will."
"You were gonna send an eighteen year old out on his own?"
"Drake is very... obstinate," was his response. "He refused any other help, claiming that he is not a little boy. I was planning on sending someone anyway so we can just let it be you."
"Sounds good to me," Coach shrugged. "I'll run it by Norah to see if she's okay with it."
"Take your time," Benedict said, leaning down to reach for two more beers from the cooler. He handed Coach one. "A toast." Coach lifted his bottle to join Benedict's in the air.
"To friendship," Coach said.
"And to good business," Benedict added, clinking the bottles together with a wink.
The two drank until late in the evening. By the end the two were so drunk, Benedict was making jokes about his disability and continued to refer to himself as legless to Coach who had passed out long before.
A few days later, after Coach's hangover had gone, everyone got together with Drake and drove the two miles through the woods toward Jackson's hideout. Everyone agreed to the plan to work for the car almost immediately, although Coach left out the part where Benedict offered it to them for nothing as he thought that either Nick or Rochelle would jump at that opportunity. Norah, as leader, sat up the front while Drake drove. He was initially unhappy about having these people follow him as if he were some infant but finally agreed after Ellis put his arm around him and practically begged. Drake blushed as Ellis put his arm around his shoulders, appreciating the contact.
"You know that Benny would give you a toy for free," Drake told them. "You didn't really need to come along and babysit me." He looked at Ellis lustfully through the rear-view mirror. "Not that I don't appreciate the company." They all talked for a little while longer as they approached the perimeter of Jackson's compound. It was hardly really far away but the winding and hazardous road meant that only slow speeds would be safe. Unfortunately, driving safe meant that it was easy for Jackson's men to see them coming. Two of them were hiding behind some trees on each side of the road, each holding shotguns. When Drake drove past them, they jumped out and fired at the wheels of the car. The blast completely destroyed the front to wheels and the car came to a sudden halt. The two men held their weapons up at everyone in the car and urged for them to get out. "Now I don't appreciate their company," Drake commented.
They were led around the corner to find a small clearing where Jackson was stood with his men in front of a large bus. 'The Midnight Riders' name and logo along with a caricature of the band members was painted on the side of it.
"Hey, Coach, it's that band that no one but you and Ellis like!" Rochelle teased.
"Shove it," Coach replied light-heartedly.
"Yes you should shove it," Jackson stepped up toward them. "Or I'll shove you full of bullets." His eyes glanced Rochelle up and down. "Or something else of mine..."
"I'll take the bullets, thanks."
"You don't know what I've got to offer."
"Not a lot I'm willing to bet."
"Not that this isn't illuminating conversation," Drake interrupted the two, "but we're here on business."
"And what is that?"
"Benedict sent us to deliver some gasoline to you along with that car as a peace offering... we're not repairing the damage your brutes did to it."
"Who are you calling a brute?" one of the nameless guards spoke up. Drake looked him up and down, grinned cockily and then looked back to Jackson.
"You want it or not?"
"What's the catch?" Jackson queried, shooting shared looks of suspicion to his men.
"You leave us all alone; a bargain for enough gas to fill that bus a few times over." Jackson narrowed his eyes on the young boy. He then glanced to Rochelle.
"I want something else."
"You can't have me!" Drake cried.
"Not you, faggot! I want her!"
"Not me you oaf!" Rochelle retorted.
"Take what you've been offered or we'll take it back," Norah added, trying to sound authoritative. Jackson grinned at her.
"You can join us, too." Coach suddenly became aware that there were no women in Jackson's miniscule group. Norah became quiet after realising the same thing.
"We're leaving," Coach announced with a tone of finality. Norah and Rochelle turned their backs to head out while Drake, Ellis and Nick lingered for a moment before turning to walk. Jackson's men surrounded them. Coach looked back at him. "Easy now."
"I'm being very reasonable."
"You're referring to me and Norah as bargaining chips!"
"We're not leaving without them."
"Then you're going to have a problem because they ain't going."
"Jackson," Rochelle stepped forward with her hands in the air slightly to show that she was unarmed. "Be reasonable. Why don't we step into your bus and talk about this? Alone."
The look that crossed over Jackson's face was comparable to one a fat child got when they got their meal at a fast food restaurant. The implications of what Rochelle had said already got his juices flowing, so to speak. He licked his lips and immediately nodded. He turned to the bus and placed his hand on Rochelle's shoulder as the two walked toward the door. Rochelle glanced back at Coach and gave him a supportive wink. Coach smiled and nodded at her.
"We're not going to stay here long," he told the others discreetly. "Get ready."
It was not long after the door to the bus shut when the windshield was suddenly shattered. All of Jackson's men looked over to see their leader get thrown out and land on the ground heavily. The engine of the bus suddenly came to life as Rochelle put it into gear and drove around the man she had just thrown out. Meanwhile, the others took Jackson's guards by sudden surprise by disarming them of their weapons. Coach, Norah, Ellis and Nick each took one guard of their own. Drake was surrounded by the remaining two members of Jackson's group. Coach glanced over and went to help him but stopped halfway. With the flexibility of a ballet dancer, Drake kicked one of the men who was stood behind him and then spun, grabbing his weapon and beating the remaining guard over the face with it. He fell to the ground but as he tried to get up, Drake stomped his foot on his chest to keep him down. He held his gun at him.
"Now how come no one wanted to give me a good filling?"
Rochelle beeped the horn of the bus to get everyone's attention. They each ran over to it as it was still in motion and jumped onto it. Rochelle put her foot down to get out of the clearing but suddenly the bus grinded to a halt. She had stalled it. As she fumbled about in the driver's seat, Jackson scrambled around his camp and retrieved something from a box.
"Ro, we gotta go!" Coach cried.
"Thanks, love," Rochelle acknowledged him exasperatedly.
"It looks like they're getting ready to... holy fuck is that a bazooka?" Everyone looked around the back and saw Jackson aim the bazooka that he retrieved from the box at them. "Where did he get that?"
"Ellis!" Coach ordered, "take over!" Ellis ran around everyone and nudged Rochelle out of the driver's seat saying "excuse me" as he did so. He restarted the engine and put the bus into gear to drive away.
"Ain't no one getting my shit," Jackson muttered as he fired the bazooka at them. Coach could see the round launch toward the back of the bus and knew that it would hit them.
"Get down!" he shouted, firing a few rounds at the back window, causing it to shatter. The round went through where the glass was, shot through the inside of the bus and exited out through the windshield, impacting a large tree causing a loud explosion. Ellis drove straight for the flames and passed the tree just as it fell into the road, blocking the path. The Midnight Riders bus went away and there was no way Jackson or his men could follow them. Before he could think of anything to do, Jackson heard the cry of the horde. They had been summoned by the loud bang in the woods. Within moments they would be there. He closed his eyes as the footsteps reached him and his men and resigned himself to his fate. They were all dead within moments.
Ellis stopped the bus as they passed their totalled car so that the gasoline could be promptly loaded before driving off once more. They arrived back at Benedict's community to looks of confusion. As everyone got off, Pam was there to greet them while Waylon went to fetch Benedict.
"They're not going to be bothering us anymore," Drake answered Pam's questioning look.
"Sweet Jesus!" Pam cried. "We heard the bang. Was that you?"
"It was them," Coach told her. "Those poor sons of bitches were too stupid to live; they brought it on themselves." Pam looked the tour bus up and down in awe.
"Quite a little keepsake you brought back."
"I'll say!" Benedict remarked as Waylon pushed his wheelchair over to them. "I take it that Jackson was hardly... cooperative."
"If it weren't for Ellis..." Drake remarked, looking up at him with starry eyes.
"Yes," Benedict smirked. "Well this why I wanted people to go with you to begin with. I don't want people getting hurt." He glanced at the tour bus. "Mighty fine vehicle you got there, Norah. Your people should do good in it."
"Excuse me?"
"Well you wanted a vehicle as reward. I figure that this thing will do nicely for you. You still have the gasoline?" Drake nodded. "Good; you can have that too."
"Er," Norah was speechless as were the others.
"You know what the problem with you guys is?" Benedict's question was rhetoric. "You ain't got no home. People need a home; something to feel safe in, something to protect... something to come back to. No one can be happy if they don't have a home. You guys don't want to make a home in one place; well now the home can come with you."
It was with that that the Midnight Riders were born. Long gone were Ox, Smitty, Jake and Dusty. Coach, Ellis, Nick, Rochelle and Norah would now take their place. After some discussion, Drake expressed a keen interest to join them also. Benedict agreed to let him go after Drake convinced him that he did not want to go with them because Ellis was there. He too was unaccustomed to living in one place for very long as it was the way he had lived as he was growing up. Benedict felt like a loving parent as they watched their child leave for college as Drake left the community. He felt so proud that he was so brave and yet felt very sad that he was leaving and worried that he might not be alright.
Just before they left, Norah caught Coach as he was on his own while repairing the broken windows on the bus. They smiled at each other but stood in silence as Coach fitted the replacement glass. When he was done he took off his gloves and went down the step ladder.
"What's on your mind?"
"You are," was her response. Coach looked suddenly worried.
"I don't think we'd be good together."
"Not like that you freak!" Norah slapped him on the arm. "No; I was thinking about what happened back at Jackson's camp. In fact I've been thinking about everything that's been happening these past few weeks and..." She paused. Coach gestured to her to continue. Norah sighed. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that everyone has leant toward me when looking for direction but I think that you would be a much more sensible choice as a leader." Coach let out a laugh.
"If I may," he said, "what were we like before? You were the Secretary of Homeland Security. I taught football."
"Everyone looks up to you, Coach," Norah told him. "And I don't think that I... I failed this country. I don't think I can handle the whole leader thing anytime soon."
"Well neither do I," Coach protested but was silenced by Norah placing her hands on his shoulders. She had to stand on the tips of her toes to reach him.
"Coach," she said softly, her voice tender and sweet. She brushed her hand over his cheek covered in stubble. "You're the one who everyone looks up to. You're the one who takes charge when everyone else steps back. You're the one who needs to do this because... it's always been you, Coach. You're the one who holds us together, who brings us in when we're apart. We all belong together, Coach. You belong at the top."
The tenderness and sincerity of her words touched him deeply. Coach looked at the woman who stood on the tips of her toes to reach him and began to feel something. It was not desire, even though she was very attractive. It was not sympathy for her not being able to lead them or resentment for her passing the buck over to him. It was respect. He looked down at former secretary of homeland security Norah Hanham with the kind of respect that one could feel in their chest. She was right, of course, in everything that she had said and she knew it. She was not looking to go on a power trip; she wanted to do what was best for everyone else. She wanted to step down as the Midnight Riders' leader not because she couldn't do it but because she saw someone who would do it far better than she could. Coach was inspirational, respected and people were easily loyal to him. The self-confidence Norah had back in the world before had been destroyed by the Director of CEDA. Her vendetta against him was motivated by anger, which had now subsided leaving nothing in its wake. Norah was slowly becoming confident again thanks to Coach. He was needed. Coach took Norah's hand from his face and held it warmly in between them. He took her other hand and merely closed his eyes and nodded. She smiled at him.
"If I belong at the top," he said to her, "you belong at my right hand."
The Midnight Riders were born.
After a year of leading his people all over America, Coach had suddenly found himself back where he had started in a manner of speaking. He was sat opposite Benedict Bevan who had managed to take over the compound of former power player Oliver Rooney. His Clan had taken over Rooney's base after his people had been wiped out in an infected attack. Coach was worried that his Clan would soon be wiped out if he did not do the bidding for Thomas Galt and convince Benedict to hand the area over to him. If Coach were to tell Benedict of what was going on, the people that Galt had hostage would surely be killed. Even though Galt's lapdog Fraser was somewhere else at the moment, probably being distracted by Ellis, Coach felt sick at the thought of being responsible for the deaths of his people. He chose his words with care.
Back in Idaho, the Capitol building was under siege. The infected had somehow got in and were destroying everything. Thomas Galt ordered his men to stem the monsters but they were having a tough time. A Tank broke outside through the main entrance allowing more infected to follow. Inside the holding cells at the lowest level the sounds of battle could scarcely be heard. But heard they were. Inside Drake's cell, he looked up as he heard the faintest sounds of conflict.
"Do you hear anything?" Drake looked at the small gap in the wall that separated his isolation cell from Teek's. The sensory deprivation chambers blocked out all light but Drake could still make out Teek's blue eyes. In the darkness they were quite beautiful.
"Can't you hear that?" Drake responded.
"All I can hear is you," said Teek, breathing heavily. "I don't like this."
"What do you mean?"
"First we hear all that commotion outside and now there's a war going on up there. What if the zombies are here?"
"They'll get rid of Thomas Galt's guys for us."
"Then what? We'll be stuck in here. We'll be trapped with no way out. We'll die! We'll die trapped like fucking rats and... fuck!" Teek began breathing heavily. He was close to hyperventilating before he felt Drake's warm, gentle hand reach through the small hold in the wall and rest on his shoulder. He began to relax almost immediately. "I'm sorry," Teek tried to keep the sound of tears out of his voice. "Just being in here reminds me of being in that car Tillman stuffed me in when he took it to the crusher." Drake said nothing. He only squeezed Teek's shoulder. Teek lifted his hand to his shoulder and took Drake's. He realised his hand was wet from wiping away his tears but Drake did not seem to mind. He ran his thumb over Teek's tears until they were gone. The two then said nothing for a very long time.
Rochelle was regretting what she had done as she sat in her own cell. She heard what was going on up above and yet she did nothing; she lay there all battered and bruised. She was certain no bones were broken but she was bleeding from the nose extensively. She was sure that she had bruises all over her face and body. When the doors opened her liberator would not walk in on a pretty sight. Rochelle heard the violence and knew what she had done was wrong. She had deliberately touched the skin of her abductors, thereby transferring the infection onto them. If none of them were ever rescued it would be her fault. If a Tank burst down the doors and tore them all to pieces it would be her fault. If Nick died it would be her fault.
She thought about Nick. She was unsure of her feelings toward him in the past but now that she could not touch him, holding his hand or kissing his lips seemed to be the only thing that she wanted to do. She spat out a mouthful of blood as she lay on the floor of her cell and chuckled at the irony. She wished that she had been beaten to death so she would not have to live with this feeling in her chest anymore. She could be murdered a thousand times over by Galt, his men or the infected and it would still not hurt as much as the fact that she and Nick could never be together.
Norah was sat in the corner of her cell thinking of Danielle. She did not know how she would cope without her best friend. She knew that Coach was still there and that he would do what he could to help them, a fact that gave her great comfort. She did not feel worried or nervous; she almost knew with undeniable certainty that they would all be rescued. What made her feel down was the fact that Danielle would never be rescued. She had died because of Nick and to a lesser extent, Rochelle. She knew that she would probably never get over the death of her best friend. She was the one who she trusted the most, even more than Coach. She was the one who Norah shared all of her secrets to. She was the one Norah spoke to about her hidden romantic feelings for their leader. She would never have that closeness with anyone again and she felt so empty without it. Most of all she felt angry. Despite everything that everyone had said; she still felt nothing but pure hatred toward Nick. She understood that it was not his fault but she still blamed him for Danielle's death. Finally Norah started to feel grateful as she sat in the cell. She was grateful that Nick had left.
If he hadn't she'd have already killed him.
Nick sat in the front passenger's seat of the Midnight Riders tour bus directing Malcolm toward Galt's HQ. They were getting close. In the back the others were planning their strategies for the rescue plan. Bill, Francis, Louis and Zoey were sat around the table with Miguel and Madison while Cassandra watched from a distance. The bus came to a sudden halt at the top of a hill when Malcolm urged everyone to come and have a look at what he was seeing. Up ahead the Idaho State Capitol building could be seen. It was the backdrop of an intense battle.
"Holy Christmas," Malcolm commented as he saw the sight. Nick shot him a sarcastic glare.
"What the hell is going on down there?" Miguel asked as he and Madison headed the line of people that moved to the front of the bus. He rested his hand on the back of Nick's chair.
"I think hell is going on down there," Cassandra said in a breath. Madison leant forward, placing her hand over Miguel's as got a better look. Miguel looked down at her hand and then up at her face. Madison shifted her gazed over to him and for a moment questioned why he was looking at her. She then realised where she had placed her hand and tore it away suddenly, clearing her throat in an attempt to sound cavalier.
"We, uh, need to rethink our plan. We can't spread ourselves out now that the zombies have entered the equation."
"Yes," Miguel agreed, clearing his own throat. "If we spread ourselves out we'd be overwhelmed." Bill shook his head and rolled his eyes. Miguel and Madison were as subtle as the battle being raged down below. They were acting like high school teenagers. He expected this behaviour from Louis and Zoey, even though they never particularly acted that way but to see it happen between supposed professionals made him slightly irritable. "I think we should split ourselves into two teams instead of three."
"Whatever," Bill remarked. Miguel, too found Bill irritable.
"Malcolm, Nick and Cassandra; you should stay on the bus. Malcolm will drive around and you all can engage the infected from inside; get the fire off the rest of us while we go inside and break the others out. How does that sound?"
"Sounds good," Zoey grinned, cocking her gun. A loud explosion was heard in the distance followed by silence.
"No time like the present!" Bill cried and everyone moved into position.
Malcolm drove the Midnight Riders tour bus down toward the Capitol Building. There were stray infected in his way that he mercilessly ran over. No doubt the front bumper would need a great deal of cleaning after this engagement, he thought. Coming up to the Capitol Building, Malcolm slowed down. Bill was the first to jump out after getting to the door first and not moving despite Miguel's orders. Miguel left second and did a safe roll as he leapt from the moving vehicle whereas Bill simply skidded gracefully to a halt, lighting a cigarette as he did so. Madison, Louis, Francis and Zoey soon joined them and the six began running toward the Capitol Building.
Cover fire came from Cassandra and Nick as the six made their way up the stairs. They could see people up there shooting at the infected. They appeared to be getting close to being overwhelmed. One of the men noticed the six approaching and then began firing in their direction even though there were no infected nearby. They split up and took cover behind some decorative statues that ran up each side of the stairs.
"Not very friendly are they?" Zoey muttered before raising her voice. "What do we need; an invitation?"
"I got it right here," said Francis as he pulled the pin from a fragmentation grenade. He threw it far and it landed close to one of the men who had been overpowered by the infected. A Spitter was about to cover him in her acidic goo when the grenade exploded, sending acidic sludge everywhere. The man was knocked off his feet and fell down the stairs, landing near the raiding party.
"Move out," Miguel ordered and everyone ran past the weary guard and up the stairs. The Spitter's acid had cut through several of the nearby infected, giving them a small window of opportunity. The six got to the front doors and as they shot the infected nearby they made their way inside. The main hall was a mess. A Tank was in the centre of the lobby, crushing people to death with its fists.
"We got this," Francis, Louis and Zoey remarked. Zoey shot Bill a cheeky wink as she joined the two in tackling the Tank. Miguel ushered Madison and Bill to move on. While they made the way to the basement, the only logical place where any prisoners would be kept, bullets began to pummel the Tank. Even with three against one the Tank still had the advantage in this battle. It had taken apart all nearby security without showing any signs of letting up. Zoey counted ten bodies around the immediate area; ten people who had come against the Tank and had still lost. It would take some creative thinking to beat it.
Francis and Louis ran around the Tank on opposite sides, all the while shooting at it. Zoey ran straight for the beast and it saw her coming. As she got within spitting distance she fell back and slid along the ground under it, aiming her shotgun up and firing at its nether region twice before she kicked herself back to her feet and ran after the others. The Tank, clearly hurt, pulled a large chunk of concrete from the floor and hurled it toward Zoey but she dived out of the way as she went left up the grand staircase. Francis had gone right. Louis helped her up and the two ran up the stairs as fast as they could. The Tank joined them on the steps.
The staircase began exploding as Francis threw numerous grenades at the Tank, his weapons causing considerable damage to the structure. He pulled the pin of one grenade and was about the throw it when he felt a Smoker's tongue wrap around him as his arm was extended. He was pulled away with one free arm. Using that arm, he cooked the grenade in his hand by waiting for a moment to throw it and then lobbed it when there were less than two seconds until it exploded. The Smoker died in the blast and Francis was able to free himself.
Louis and Zoey made it to the top of the stairs with the Tank hot on their heels. They saw Francis on the ground in a room in the distance and decided to pincer the beast following them. As Francis climbed to his feet the other two ran down a different corridor, shooting infected as they went along. Francis was now behind the Tank and started firing well placed shots at it. Still the Tank would not go down. Louis and Zoey each prepared their shotguns as up ahead there was a dead end. They needed to kill the Tank now or it would be all over for them. Near the wall the two spun around and unleashed a flurry of shotgun bullets at the Tank as Francis threw his final grenade at it. The bomb landed right at its feet and exploded with a force that knocked the other two against the wall. The Tank was flung into a wall, crashing through into the next room. Francis walked over to see if the other two were alright. They were rubbing their heads but otherwise seemed fine. Looking through the hole in the wall, Francis let out a long whistle.
"He ain't getting up," he remarked. From the other wall behind him burst through a Charger that dragged Francis to where the corpse of the Tank was.
"Ah shit," Zoey sighed.
The other three arrive in the holding cells with remarkable ease, thought Miguel. Four of the cells had labels on them so he decided that they were the ones that were occupied. Miguel and Madison opened the first door to find a young of no older than nineteen. He wore skinny jeans and had vibrant red hair in the style so many of the "emo" kids back in England so Miguel thought. Madison opened the next door to find another boy, perhaps younger than the redhead who looked incredibly afraid. Bill opened the door next to that and saw a familiar face. He saw Norah Hanham.
Norah and Bill had encountered each other only once; one year ago on the cruise ship that was ferrying survivors over to Europe. They shared a few words as they discussed the Director problem. From the way she handled things and how she conducted herself Bill knew that he liked her. She gazed wearily at him, the light from outside was blinding her. Bill stepped forward to obscure the haze so that her eyes could adjust. He held out his hand. Norah could still not see a whole lot but from Bill's dark silhouette she did make out something. The lit end of a cigarette.
"It can't be," she gasped.
"Yes ma'am," Bill said with enthusiasm that seemed so out of character Miguel had to look over and make sure that he was still the same man. "We've come all the way over to this shit heap to pull your sorry asses out now get on your feet!"
Tears formed in Norah's eyes as she got to her feet. They fell as she ran forward and embraced him.
"Oh good God! I knew someone would come!" Miguel stepped forward and introduced Madison and himself.
"Is that all of you?"
"No there's a few more," Norah made her way over to Rochelle's cell and muttered irritably as she saw the racist sign written on her door. She unlocked it and gasped as she saw Rochelle lying there all beaten and bloody.
"Fuck me," Drake's jaw dropped. He went to go help her.
"Get back!" Rochelle spat. "Don't come any closer."
"Ro, it's us!" Drake told her.
"I know exactly who you are! Get the hell away from me!" Drake lifted his hands and stepped out of her cell cautiously. Madison glanced to Miguel.
"What's her deal?"
Rochelle was lying on the ground breathing heavily. This was bad; if anyone touched her then she would pass on the infection to them. She tried getting to her feet on her own but could not; she simply did not have the strength.
"Guys," Norah said to Drake and Teek, "check the other cells and make sure no one else is locked up." They did as they were told and the two opened the remaining locked cell doors, finding no one in each one.
"Where's Coach?"
"And Ellis?"
"Say again?" Miguel scanned the area.
"We have a few additions to our little group," Norah informed him. Miguel shot her an urgent look.
"We came by submarine; we don't have enough room to accommodate a lot of people."
"There are only seven of us; two more than you were expecting." She gestured to Drake and Teek. "Hell these two will share a bed."
"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Drake interrupted them. He and Teek were not aware of the fact that rescue was coming. Coach and Norah decided it was best not to tell them. Danielle did not even know, not that that mattered now. "Submarines? Accommodation? Beds?" Miguel looked back to Norah.
"Madam Secretary..." he started but Bill interrupted him.
"You're letting Zoey's mom come along."
"They're coming and that's the end of it!" Norah announced. "Besides we have more pressing concerns; we need to get Rochelle out of here and find Coach and Ellis."
"And Nick," Drake added.
"Nick?" Madison spoke up. "The guy in that cheap suit? Walks with a limp? Yeah we found him not too long ago; he led us here."
"Good boy, Nicky," Drake grinned. Norah's eyes narrowed.
"So we've got two people AWOL?" Bill summarised. "Damn it... okay we're going to have to find out where they went. This Thomas Galt guy; he brought you here?" Drake and Teek nodded in confirmation. "So we find him. Let's pray that he's not dead yet."
Malcolm was driving the Midnight Rider's tour bus remarkably slowly so Cassandra could shoot better as she was a remarkably bad shot. The man who Thomas Galt's right hand, Frazer, had sent to keep an eye on the tour bus was following them in his own car. He knew that is he got close enough he could jump over to it. Most of the occupants had left and he had a very good chance of catching those that remained off guard. If he did this he could wait for the others to return and get rid of them in one swift motion.
Cassandra started to reload her assault rifle when she heard a crash. Looking around she saw Ralph climb through the back window by the table and land on top of it.
"Nick," Cassandra called out, "a man has come in your backdoor." Ralph swiftly made his way over to her and kicked her in the face, pulling her up and holding a gun to her head just before Nick had a chance to shoot him. Ralph smiled menacingly at them as he held onto Cassandra.
Thomas Galt was sat in his office behind his table with two guns near him. One was a shotgun and the other was a small self defence pistol. There was plentiful of shotgun ammunition nearby but only one round in the pistol. He would only need to use it once. Galt was prepared for a fight; he had not come this far without getting his hands dirty. He did not, however, want to go down on the infected's terms. He would end things when he wanted it. Taking a soothing breath, Galt closed his eyes as he head the bangs on the door. It wouldn't be long until they broke in. The muffled gunfire on the other side of the door seemed to be unending. After several particularly loud shots the banging on the door stopped. He glanced over in time to see the lock get blown away by weapons fire. The doors opened and two women and two men were stood there. Madison, Zoey, Louis and Francis took one step inside and saw him cowering behind the desk.
"Ding-dong," said Francis sarcastically. Galt leapt to his feet but Madison used a well placed shot of her pistol to disarm him. The bullet hit his gun and he was uninjured. The shotgun went across the room. Galt reached for his suicide pistol.
"Oh no," Louis yelled, "you ain't shutting the door in my face!" Galt hesitated pulling the trigger giving Louis the chance to run over and disarm him. Twisting Galt's arm behind his back he forced his head onto the desk. He twisted the arm, making him grunt in pain. Galt could not believe he was in this position, having a man stood directly behind him as he was bent over. Francis chuckled as he saw the sight.
"I wish I had a picture," he said to Zoey.
"Right then!" Madison said louder than she needed to. She wanted to intimidate him. Her tone was more sarcastic than aggressive. "Mr Galt! I'm going to need some information out of you."
"Suck it, cunt!" Madison pushed Louis aside and flipped Galt onto his back. With no hesitation she rammed her knee into his crotch. Galt let out a cry of absolute agony as he fell to the ground.
"Can she do that?" Francis muttered to Zoey.
"You want to question her?"
"We'll try this again," Madison cracked her knuckles. "Two guys. One by the name of Coach, the other by Ellis. Where are they? Don't use foul language again. For every time you are rude to me, my knee will explore other areas of your body."
"They're not here," Galt told her.
"I'm shocked and amazed. Where are they?"
"Far away."
"This is tedious." Madison placed Galt's hand flat on the desk with the palm facing up. She then took out her combat knife, looked at him in the eye and without even taking aim, swung her knife down at his hand. Zoey recoiled and looked away. The sound of the knife impacting its target was loud. Galt looked over and saw that the blade had hit just in between his fingers and had not done him any damage. "Oh, I missed..." Madison lifted the blade up again. "Let's try again."
"They're in New Bern!" Galt spat. Madison grinned.
"Where in New Bern?"
"With Benedict Bevan's Clan; they moved in after Oliver Rooney vanished."
"I see... would you kindly tell me where that is exactly?" Madison twisted the blade in the air as Galt told her the exact specifics. When he finished she smiled and got off him. "Let's go."
"There's no rush," Galt said as he fell into his chair. Madison looked back at him, her gaze demanding further explanation. "That Bevan is a sort of competitor of mine. I sent one of my boys with him to help level the playing field."
"What did you do?" Zoey asked.
"My man Frazer is going to make sure things... go up in Bevan's face." He grinned. Madison looked to the others and back at him.
"Details you pig."
"He took six devices with him. One large enough to put a huge hold in the side of any building. He's going to place them strategically around the compound. When they detonate there will be nothing left of Benedict Bevan or his Clan."
"Of of Coach and Ellis," Francis muttered. With an evil glare Madison turned and started running back to the prison. She glanced back at Galt and looked him up and down, focusing her stare on his groin that still hurt.
"Let's see how much cunt you get now," she remarked as she turned and went after the others. Galt watched her leave and spat on the ground.
Frazer had already planted three of the five smaller explosives around the complex, a task that was ridiculously easy thanks to the guided tour that Pam was giving. His eyes focused on Pam's breasts as she spoke but she did not notice. Ellis did, however. He hated the way Frazer continually perverted over the woman. He wanted to do something to stop it but knew that if he tried anything it could have dire consequences back in Idaho. He bit his tongue and tried to focus his gaze elsewhere. His eyes fell on the bulky bag that he was carrying around with him.
"We have a problem," Madison arrived back in the dungeons where Miguel, Bill and Madison were still stood outside of Rochelle's cell. She summarised what Galt had told her. "We need to leave for New Bern now."
"We may already be too late," Drake told her.
"There's no way we'd be able to reach them fast enough in that massive bus of yours," Bill noted.
"Galt's got a load of cars in the garage out back," Teek spoke up suddenly. "Some of them are pretty quick, I think there are even a few motorcycles."
"What are you getting at?" Miguel asked.
"I can ride over to New Bern from here quicker than any of you can get there. I am a messenger after all; I know the shortcuts. It's how I made my living before you guys showed up. I can get there in a day."
"A day?" Norah was unconvinced. "That's a two day trip at least."
"I can do it," Teek insisted. "Besides we have no other options. If I'm lucky they've not had that much of a head start on me. There may be a chance I could even beat them there." Norah thought for a moment and then nodded. Miguel felt aggravated that people were ignoring his authority but let it slide. "You guys can meet us there when you can."
"I'm going with you," Drake stood in front of him, stopping him from leaving. Teek merely shook his head.
"You'll slow me down," he said sweetly. Teek took Drake's hands. "I'll be fine, I promise." With Teek's smile, Drake knew that he would be alright. Nevertheless he was still overcome with emotion. He stepped close to Teek and put their lips together. The act was so sudden it caught Teek of guard. His first reaction was to step away but that lasted for a smallest of moments before he felt a warmth grow deep inside. He smiled as he kissed him and the two stood there for a moment more before they parted again. Louis leant over to Zoey.
"Reminds you of us, doesn't it?" Zoey frowned at him.
"I never had a dick."
Drake and Teek exchanged one last glance before Drake smiled and tilted his head to the doorway.
"Now fuck off." Teek ran up the stairs and through the still dangerous hallways to the parking garage. He saw immediately the bike that he wanted and hopped over a dead guard to get it. Climbing onto the cherry red Ducati Desmosedici RR, Teek contemplated what had just happened with Drake. Smiling as he turned on the engine of the bike, he realised that this might have been one of the best days ever. Without bothering to find the helmet, Teek roared out of the garage and left the others behind.
"Rochelle we seriously need to go right now!" Norah was becoming impatient. Rochelle was trying to stand up on her own but simply could not. She kept falling down each time she tried to move. Norah cussed silently and looked to Francis and Miguel. "You two are the strongest looking men; get her up." Miguel was irritated further by Norah's orders but decided to assert his authority at a more appropriate time. He and Francis moved over to lift Rochelle but she began screaming at them.
"Don't touch me!"
"You'll be fine," Francis assured her. "I'm gentle."
"Don't fucking touch me!" The two got really close to her. "If you touch me you'll get infected!"
The two stopped dead and exchanged looks.
"What?"
Rochelle sighed and leant her head back.
"Those people that kidnapped me they... they did something to me. They wanted to find a cure for the virus so they injected me with an experimental toxin or something. It makes me highly contagious. If anyone touches me then they will become infected." She paused for a moment while everyone digested the information. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. But please believe me; I have a virus incubating within me. I am safe but no one else is."
"I can help you up," Louis told her. "I've had all sorts of crazy things pumped into my blood, too. I'm immune from any form of the virus." He held out his hand.
"Even so you could carry it and pass it to someone else." Louis thought for a moment and took his hand away.
"I have an idea," Drake went away, taking Bill with him. They returned with a stretcher from the medical area and placed it next to Rochelle. "You just need to rest, Ro. Get on here and we'll do the rest." Rochelle managed to get herself onto the stretcher while Drake handed Miguel and Francis extra thick gloves that he had also requisitioned from the medical area. When she was ready everyone made their way outside. The number of infected was dwindling but they still had to keep on their toes. The tour bus was parked at the bottom of the stairs. Miguel and Francis walked down the stairs sideways to make sure Rochelle did not slide. Bill glanced back at the Capitol Building and saw the complete and utter state of disarray that it was in. He lit another cigarette and chuckled.
"Never liked Boise anyway..."
Everyone made their way to the bus and stepped inside. They saw no one by the driver's seat.
"Hello?" Madison called out. She looked to the back and gasped as she saw Cassandra in the arms of a man who had a gun to her head. Nick and Malcolm were lying on the back table apparently unconscious. Their hands were tied together.
"So nice of you to join us," Ralph smirked.