Free The Rooster (Erotic Apocalyptic Thriller) by Richard Peters Page B

frigging
machine gun up there. We took a couple of sharp turns before some
authoritative female voice from the front seat halted the wild
shooting. “Check fire! We’re out of the hot zone. Light discipline
everyone. Go to night vision, over.” My mouth hung open, realizing
she was talking into some radio and ordering around other teams.
Holy crap, talk about impressive! I was giddy as could be.
    “Thank you so much! I won’t lie; that was
close!”
    No one else said a word. They just stared at
me like some kind of animal in a zoo. I ignored it. Everyone’s
social skills are a little warped after Armageddon. I broke the ice
with the wittiest thing I could think of: “So what are you dudes
all about? Some eco-friendly Special Forces outfit?”
    The woman next to me laughed. “Well, we got
ourselves a keeper here. One slap genius. Can’t tell five women
from men and can’t tell a zombie from a hooker!”
    I suppose I wasn’t in a position to argue.
Still dazed from the rescue. So I kept making small talk. “No
offense, I mean I’m grateful and all for your help, but how much
further do you think we can go before these batteries give out?
Maybe we ought to stop and find a truck or something.”
    Their leader turned around and gave me a
look of disgust. Even in the dim red interior light I could tell
she was stunning. I don’t mean “we’re all about to die so why not”
hot, but old-world standards attractive.
    “Been here 30 seconds and already trying to
take charge? Typical man. Sugar, we charged these batteries with
our own windmills just this morning. We’ll make it back to the
citadel with plenty of juice to spare, even though it’s still a
good 50 miles northeast. And no, we won’t grab a pickup like those
rednecks that brought a swarm down on you. Mock us all you want,
but this electric scoot-about runs as quiet as a bicycle. Which is
why we’re saving your ass and not the other way around.”
    This was not a good sign. Me and my crew had
bumped into other groups since the collapse. Some were dangerous,
most were friendly, but everyone was secretive. All claimed to be
nomadic. Since they pretty much told me where their lair was and
didn’t bother with a blindfold… well, they obviously weren’t
expecting me to leave. Ever.
    Had to get off that depressing train of
thought. “How did you know that we were trapped?”
    “Come on, you think this is amateur hour?
We’ve been… watching you all day. I am sorry about your partner. If
you two had just kept your shit together for ten more minutes, we
could have had you both.”
    I caught a noticeable pause before she said
“watching.” She nearly used a different word. Not too many positive
synonyms there. Time to shut my big mouth for once and just listen.
Whatever they had planned, I wasn’t going to make it any easier by
handing out free information. Maybe I could pick up some if I
actually listened. Unfortunately, unlike most women I met before
the End, these gals didn’t gossip. It was a quiet ride out of town.
They didn’t even ask me any questions. No questions, no orders… no
good signs here.
    What a fucking day.
     
     

Sanctuary
     
    Even at night, with a blackout in effect, I
could tell this compound was massive. Might have been a ranch back
in the day. Now there were dozens of buildings, permanent and
temporary, scattered over at least a dozen acres. Far as I could
see, a razor-wire fence wrapped around the whole thing. Was that a
moat? There were even guard towers. A couple miles of open plains
in every direction guaranteed nothing would sneak up on them. You
have to realize, for months our little gypsy camp out in the woods
was the most powerful base I’d ever seen. This organization cowed
me more than the firepower my rescuers packed.
    Not until we were inside and cleared the
weapons did anyone talk to me. While I ogled some female stacking
crates of grenades next to the gate’s concrete blockhouse, the
leader of their scavenger