Emily leant forward, tears filling her eyes, ‘We have a young man helping us, called Brad I think…on a motorbike…lovely boy. There were some shots and he has gone ahead to check…will you help us please?’
The middle aged man’s eyes widened, ‘We had better get after him then…ensure he comes to no harm.’ The engine of the pickup revved as it slowly moved forward, ‘Be close behind us and keep moving…I am Benjamin and this is my wife, Elizabeth.’
The motorcycle engine burbled at low speed, Brad Zeiss flexing his muscles beneath the motorcycle leather jacket and jeans in nervousness, his eyes straining through the darkened and scratched helmet visor in an attempt to see through the billowing dust clouds, his visibility reduced to just a few yards. He had been riding for seven minutes, the Honda moving slowly and cautiously through the billowing murk, his helmet moving from side to side in rising fear.
The wheels turned gradually, Brad leaning forward to stare into the swirling dust, the red helmet jerking from side to side more nervously as shadows passed on either side, his heart pounding before relenting as he realised they were lone low sporadic bushes and trees. Then he stiffened, gasping as he glimpsed the outline of a car ahead, the passenger door wide open. Slowing further, he recognised the shadowed outline as a Ford Mustang, the bike gradually drawing to a halt as he drew breath, glancing round in nervousness.
Bodies lay to the sides of the road, another MPV sitting on the opposite side of the thoroughfare, slumped sideways into a ditch with four doors open. Brad swallowed as the Honda motorbike stopped, slipping the stand down and lifting his leg across the bike seat silently, his breath held in rising fear. The swirling wind buffeted his leather and denim clad figure as he lowered next to the first victim, the elderly woman having been shot in the back as she attempted to run, the helmet turning in confusion to stare at the next victim, a young child laying face upwards, a gunshot wound to the lower abdomen. Biting his lip, he considered they had been shot at close range, luggage and discarded possession laying across the tarmac, the vehicles looted.
The shadow of another vehicle lay ahead through the billowing dust, the outlines of further bodies by the side of the road as Brad lowered his head, glimpsing two male children and their probable father. His eyes strained as he realised the man’s arms were around his prone offspring, attempting to comfort them in their last few seconds, the darkened bloodstained road beneath the bodies indicating they were shot perhaps some time earlier.
The billowing dust became thicker, a gloved hand rising above the visor as the bodies further ahead disappeared into the murk, the dirt swirling around his lowered frame as he stiffened, drawing a deep breath, two silhouettes stepping towards him slowly. His eyes widened as he glimpsed the weapons, one with an assault rifle raised, the other holding a pistol in two hands menacingly, the barrel pointing towards his helmet.
The figures approached, both taller and slim, wearing goggles and scarves in protection against the billowing dust, the right one virtually shouting, ‘So another comes…rich pickings from the road today…’
Brad rose slowly, his hands moving upwards as his athletic frame shook, his voice shaking, ‘I have nothing…just a bike. I need to get north and across country…find the son of my landlady and safety.’ His eyes darted from side to side in fear, ‘I have some money, but not much…’
Backing away slowly, he moved towards the stationary Honda bike, a low salivating chuckle coming from the man ahead as he realised the younger man’s intent, and slight accent, ‘This world is gone boy…we will all die soon.’ The two figures stepped closer, both men licking their lips from chemical reaction, their day having consisted of a mixture of cocaine and Crystal Methamphetamine and brutal slayings, ‘The only place to survive is the mountains now…the enemy will pass us by. We have stocks of ammunition and an underground bunker…they will never find us.’ The man grinned in relish, looking the athletic biker figure up and down, then indicating to the bodies, ‘We have the younger women and a couple more at our little mountain retreat...’ He hesitated briefly, drawing breath, ‘…we have lots of ice (drugs) and bourbon, beers if you like…we can all see out the end in style…have fun together.’
Brad swallowed once more, his eyes straining as he stared into the gun barrels, his buttocks coming to rest against the motorcycle seat, the two men stood before him in the centre of the road. Considering the two women in the station wagon behind, the innocent children, tears filled his eyes, his chest rising and falling heavily as the helmet slowly nodded, the man stepping closer as a grin of longing lust formed across his face, his head lowering to stare at Brad’s thighs and crotch, ‘We will treat you good…party for days, that is…until the end comes.’
The roar of pulsing engines overhead, the men ducking to a crouch as Morgon fighters swept low over the mountain tops, the assault rifle rising in alarm as they reacted. Brad ducked down, lunging round the motorcycle towards the MPV for cover, his body jerking and ducking further at a single loud gunshot.
Gasping in alarm, his chest heaving, he glanced down across his frame, urgently seeking an injury as he slumped painfully against the side of the wagon, the red helmet cracking against the outer driver’s door. Shaking his head to clear his temporarily blurred vision, he briefly heard the crack of a rifle bolt, the helmet rising cautiously at an angle to see the shadow with the pistol glance round nervously, then lunge away. The second shot was loud and almost deafening as the arms clawed the air, the body slumping forward and cracking against
