Free Arkadium Rising by Glen Krisch Page A

retreating floodwaters left behind the swampy stench of rotting vegetation.
    "I'm going to go first, and once the coast is clear, I want you to follow, and I mean fast . Can you do that?"
    "I'm the fastest in my whole school," Dylan said with a smile.
    Jason ruffled the boy's blond hair and then hunched over and crawled through the improvised exit. He huddled near a dumpster, trying to get his bearings. It sounded like the skirmish was limited to the other side of the building. The crazed fire/counter-fire had slowed to occasional bursts. Across the alley were two squat brick buildings. They were no more than four feet apart, and the gap between was blocked by a tall, unkempt hedge.
    Perfect. Even if the path didn't lead anywhere, it might make for a good hiding place.
    He rushed back to the opening, and called out, "Dylan, come on!" When he didn't appear right away, Jason's heart began to race. "Dylan!" he shouted.
    A moment later, Dylan's face appeared through the ragged opening, and Jason felt relief. He easily crawled out into the alley, and when he stood up, he held a broken broom handle in his hand.
    "Sorry, I needed a weapon, too." Dylan held the broom stick high like a spear.
    Jason placed his hand on the boy's back to guide him to the shelter of the alley. "Let's get out of—"
    A middle aged man with a bloody scalp and painful limp raced around the corner and into the alley. He staggered, nearly fell over. It looked like he'd taken a bullet in the left leg. He looked like he could have once worked at the ruined service station or some other blue collar occupation. He wore faded jeans that were muddied at the knees, and a gray button-down work shirt with a red kerchief in the front pocket. He stopped in this tracks when he saw the two of them and pointed a pistol at them. His hand trembled horribly as blood continued to flow from his split scalp.
    "Wait, please! Don't-don't-don't," Jason raised his hands, pleading. He stepped in front of Dylan.
    "I'm so sorry." The man closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. Jason flinched and the shot went wide, missing him by several feet.
    "No!" Jason cried.
    The man found Jason in the crosshairs and fired again, but the magazine was empty.
    Jason grabbed Dylan by the arm and dragged him to the cover of the nearest dumpster.
    "He just shot at us! That's Henry! Henry shot at us!" Dylan said in stunned disbelief.
    Jason peered around the corner and saw the man named Henry, whose hands seemed to be trembling even more as he struggled to load a fresh magazine. Jason took advantage and sprinted toward him, and just as Henry properly loaded the magazine, Jason launched himself at him, spearing him in the torso with his shoulder.
    Henry flew back against the low wall of a loading dock, his skull crunching against the concrete. Jason disentangled himself from him and stepped away. The man's eyes rolled back in his head and his whole body twisted in a fit of spasms.
    "What did you do that for?" Dylan whimpered behind him.
    "Oh my God." Jason's legs felt weak. The man's spasms slowed and then stopped altogether. His eyes settled and stared blankly into the blue afternoon sky. Jason immediately felt a wave of nausea and fell to his hands and knees in the muddy filth of the alley and purged bile and little else from his empty stomach. His skin broke out in a clammy sheen and his head swam with dizziness.
    "You killed Henry!" Dylan cried.
    "Oh… God…" Jason mumbled.
    A staccato of gunfire closed on the alley. Jason looked up from his purge and saw two young men with AR-15s enter the alley from the other side.
    "Look what we have here, Brad."
    The one named Brad aimed his weapon at Dylan. As he opened fire, Dylan dived behind a stacked pile of wooden pallets. Bullets bit into the wood, sending a shower of splinters into the air.
    Jason grabbed Henry's pistol ( the man I killed, God damn, I killed someone! ), leveled it on the one named Brad, and fired off a round. The guy flinched backward,