En Route
Creak! Creak!
The suspension groaned under the Power Wagon for every pothole it tread over, which there were many during the journey.
The first five minutes were spent on a rocky pathway, making it feel like a roller-coaster ride. Soon, however, the highway came into view, at least what remained. The Power Wagons drove up front, close to each other, while the repair team in their K-10 Fleetside tried to keep up, often falling behind; they made constant stops to check for suspected leaks along the roadside water pipe route.
Thud!
A loud impact jolted Wagon, signalling their entry onto the highway proper. The road wasn't desirable; decades of neglect, giant craters, scattered debris, and occasional ditched vehicles plagued it. However, the paved bits of surface offered relief to the suspension, provided one could avoid the major hurdles.
The vehicles picked up pace; the sun beat down mercilessly. Contrary to the roaring engines, the passengers within were eerily silent. Everyone shared a single thought: 'Find the lost team. Get the hell out in one piece.'
"Please, be safe, Uncle Ben," Aden thought, his grip tightening on his shotgun.
***
Outskirts of Bullhead City
Several grueling hours later, the convoy finally arrived at the desolate outskirts of their destination.
Screech!
The tires halted, engines idling down, then cutting off into a tense silence.
"We're here. Team leaders front and center." Leo's voice cut through the quiet. He moved a few steps ahead of the vehicles, followed by the other two team leaders.
"Okay, Scott, you take the left flank. Max, you take the right. My team takes the middle". Leo ordered, "Stick to the plan. Eyes open. Let's spread out."
"Yes, sir." The response was quick and professional. Everyone moved to their respective group and pressed forward on foot into the ruined city.
Aden was in Leo's team, his heart pounding against his ribs. Their destination: the old police station and its armory, visible a few decaying blocks ahead.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Everyone moved in coordination, scanning their surroundings.
A few tense minutes later, they arrived before a dilapidated building. Cracks spider-webbed across the grimy walls, the broken doors and windows, and the decaying signs hanging above the entrance made it hard to picture it as a police station.
Leo held up a hand, signaling a halt. "Our first target is ahead. We go in, search for the captain and others. If they're not inside, we secure any useful supplies and move on to the next. Suit up."
The team donned their makeshift hazmat suit. Meanwhile, a member pulled a crackling Geiger counter from his backpack, the needle hovered near baseline.
Once inside, they came across the rotten remains of what looked like a reception desk. The dust particles thickened with every step ahead.
Someone coughed inside his mask. "Good thing, we have hazmat on. I can't imagine breathing this dust in."
"Doesn't look like anyone's been here recently. Doubt the captain holed up here," another muttered.
"We won't know that until we've checked. Now, check the ground cells. I'll check the second floor." Leo brought them back to task; he moved toward the stairs to the second floor with Aden behind, his shotgun held ready, scanning the dark corners.
Despite a thorough sweep, the second floor yielded nothing significant, only empty rooms and corroding cells.
Suddenly, a muffled voice called from below. "Leader, found a heavy steel door back here. This might be it. Looks like a reinforced store room off the main cell block."
"On my way down." He climbed down, others behind him.
Seeing Leo return, the veteran who called out pointed down a dim corridor. "It's down there, at the end of the hall."
"Okay, let's see what we can get." Leo walked toward the storeroom.
They reached a narrow corridor off the main cell block. At its end stood a single, heavy-looking door; its surface a slab of rust-pitted steel, reinforced with thick rivets. A complex-looking tumbler lock, seized solid with grime and neglect, guarded whatever lay beyond.
A ripple of anticipation mixed with frustration went through the team. Leo eyed the door. "That looks like a tough nut to crack. Anyone got tricks for this kind of thing?"
Silence
Then, Aden spoke up. "Leader, can I take a look?"
Leo glanced back, surprised. "Didn't know locks were your specialty, kid. Sure, be quick."
Aden approached the door and knelt, examining the lock mechanism closely under the beam of his flashlight.
Sigh!
"This looks like a double-wafer deadbolt... heavily corroded. No way to pick it without drilling, we don't have gear or time for that now." Aden articulated his analysis.
Leo nodded. "Alright, that's it. We'll do it the old-fashioned way. Pass me that crowbar."
Bang!
He struck the lock with full might, but the door didn't budge; instead, a shower of rust flakes fell.
"Again!"
Bang! The impact echoed, but the lock held firm.
"Again!"
Bang!
This time, a chunk of crumbling plaster and brick exploded beside the door frame.
"Forget the door, look here--the wall's giving way," Leo exclaimed, seeing the new opportunity. He swung the crowbar against the weakened section.
Bang! Bang
The wall couldn't withstand Leo's continuous beating; a large section collapsed.
He kicked the crumbling section and made a hole large enough to enter. "Let's go, team. Grab whatever is necessary. We leave the place in three minutes."
The team dashed forward. Inside, racks held a few corroded service pistols, a couple of pump-action shotguns coated in grime, boxes of decades-old ammunition (questionable viability), some riot helmets, flak vests yellowed with age, and remarkably, a crate of intact-looking tear gas canisters and flash-bang grenades. They worked quickly, stuffing useful items into bags.
As they were consolidating their spoils, loud noises echoed throughout the city.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Hearing the distant but unmistakable sounds of a massive firefight, Leo yelled with his lungs. "EVERYBODY OUT! MOVE! NOW!"
***
Rat-tat-tat-tat Fwoosh!
Rapid gunshots echoed nearby before the team could determine the location of the previous gunshots.
Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh!
Rat-tat-tat-tat
A scream tore through the air, followed by another panicked volley of gunfire.
Amidst the chaos, one of the leaders managed to yell. "It's the overlord. Everyone, spread out and head inside the buildings."
"Death hound overlord!" Someone behind Leo exclaimed in disbelief, the name spoken like a curse
"Holy shit! Where's the super bazooka?" Leo's usually composed nature cracked under pressure.
One of the members replied nervously. "We…we left that in the car, leader."
"LEFT IT? You guys!" Veins popped over his forehead, trying to control his temper.
"It was too heavy, and we didn't think we would encounter the overlord. So…." The man stammered,
"No time. Someone retrieve it. Now!" He cut off the team member midway.
"I'll go." Aden volunteered instantly, surprising himself with his decisiveness.
Leo hesitated for a fraction, looking at Aden's determined face. "Very well, kid. Be fast. Don't get yourself killed. Dave, cover him till he's clear of this block!" Leo said. "You guys come with me. There's a water reservoir 200 meters to the left. We'll distract the beast and try to trap it."
Meanwhile, Aden hurried towards the car.
***
Somewhere in the warehouse,
Three figures huddled in the dusty gloom of a collapsed corner of a large warehouse. To say they were in a bad situation would be an understatement. One of the figures was missing everything below the left arm, another was missing a right ear, and the last figure; riddled with wounds, especially on the face.
Rat-tat-tat-tat
The sudden gunshots in the distance jolted them fully alert.
The leader stiffened, head tilted. "Ben? Eric? Did you hear that? Sounds different. Heavier."
The figure with the missing arm(Ben) agreed. "Yeah, I also heard it, Captain."
Meanwhile, the figure with a missing ear(Eric) was silent in the corner.
Rat-tat-tat-tat
The gunshots echoed again, punctuated by shouts.
"Settlement. Has to be. They must be here for us, but they seem to be in trouble by the sound of it. Let's help our boys." Franz stood abruptly.
His battered kite shield lay in multiple pieces nearby. He grabbed the largest and sharpest piece and strapped it on his arm as a bracer.
Ben struggled to rise, face pale with blood loss and pain. "Little help here, captain?"
"Alright, steady now." Franz hauled Ben to his feet.
He turned to Eric. "Eric, let's go."
"Huh?"
Eric was confused.
"Looks like your ears are still ringing. WE - ARE - GOING!" He tried his best to signal using his hands.
Eric yelled. "OH WE ARE GOING, CAPTAIN?"
"Jesus. Keep it down, Eric. I hope your ear recovers fast." He also helped get Eric up.
"Let's go." Franz opened the door and left.
Once outside, the rays illuminated their figures.
Franz pushed open the warped warehouse door, squinting against the sudden daylight. The trio emerged, a horrific tableau of survival. Dried blood, dirt, and makeshift bandages covered them. Franz's exposed cheekbone was a ghastly sight. It looked, quite literally, like they had clawed their way back from hell.
"Move out," Franz commanded softly, instinctively taking the lead despite his injuries. Eric shuffled into the middle, looking around uncertainly, while Ben brought up the rear, favoring his good side.