Waves of Fury (Surviving Earth Chronicles)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Tyler

T o say the St. George group was stunned at our decision was an understatement. Florence actually teared up in disbelief while Jared argued extensively with us.

How stupid can we be to leave relative safety?

It was Dan, in the end, who stood up to the mayor. He wasn’t cruel, but he was direct, reminding them once more that this oasis in hell was temporary. That they needed to prepare for long-term survival.

In the end, they acquiesced without trouble. The St. George group was kind enough to stock our vehicle with food, supplies, and several precious containers of gasoline.

After a hearty breakfast, we left. It felt both relieving and terrifying with a healthy dose of uncertainty slathered on top.

We’ve been on the road for a couple of hours or so and every bone in my body is numb from the biting cold. So far, though, we haven’t experienced any terrible weather happenings, which gives me hope for a smooth ride to Denver.

“You sure we should hit Denver first?” I ask for the tenth time since we made the decision over breakfast. “Shouldn’t we just cut across toward Kansas?”

Kellen turns to look at me, studying my mouth for a beat before meeting my eyes. “Jared said they sent a small group up to Denver to check on the state of things with the supposed military presence there, but they haven’t heard from them in over a week. We owe it to them to at least give them an update. They took us in when we needed it most.”

If the group didn’t report back, then they most likely ran into trouble, were killed, or found something better. The last one seems like stupid hope.

I can’t help but feel as though we’re going to run right into trouble too. That’s our track record thus far, after all.

The next eight to ten hours of travel are going to have my nerves entirely frayed by the time we get there. I’m hoping and praying it’s all for nothing. That the military has a handle on things there.

The twist of my gut tells me otherwise.

I wake to my head thumping against the back window as Aaron accelerates and bounces over something in the road. It’s growing dark, either from an impending storm, dusk, or both, but I notice several sets of wide, worried gazes from the others in the bed of the truck.

“What is it?” I croak out, ignoring the need to take a piss. Badly.

Kellen hands me a water bottle and frowns. “Cars up ahead. Looks like a caravan of headlights headed our way.”

Great.

Everyone tenses as we approach.

Keep going, Aaron.

No one says a word as Aaron cruises past the first vehicle in the caravan of what looks to be ten to twelve vehicles long. After several seconds of nothing but icy wind whipping through my hair and beating on my face, I almost think I worried for nothing.

Until I hear the first pop…

Gunshot.

And another.

Pings can be heard hitting the side of the truck as the report of gunfire continues. These people are shooting at us! Kellen grabs hold of the back of my neck and jerks me down. The sound of glass shattering and raining down over my back tells me we moved just in time. My heart races nearly as fast as Aaron as he weaves the truck along the road in an attempt to make us less of a target.

Are they coming after us?

Is this where we all die?

Wayne howls in pain and my chest seizes up. I’m smashed down under Kellen’s weight, so I can’t see what has him hollering. Chaotic voices of our group can be heard over the cacophony of gunfire.

And then it stops as quickly as it began.

Kellen eases up and lifts to look over the lip of the truck bed. “They’re not following us,” he calls out. “Fuck. Wayne? You okay?”

Wayne grunts. “Took a goddamn bullet to the ass.”

“Pull your pants down,” Hope instructs. “Tyler. Get over here with your kit.”

Aaron doesn’t slow, which is for the best. If those people decide to turn around, we need to have a head start so we can outrun them. I yank my kit out of my bag and scrabble over to where Wayne is lying on his side. Hope has a flashlight, aiming it right at his lower back. Jesse swaps places with me to make room.

Wayne’s bleeding like a stuck hog.

“What do we do?” Hope asks, gesturing at Wayne’s bare, hairy ass that’s gushing with blood. “Tyler!”

I snap out of my daze and fumble through my kit. Amy was gracious enough to restock it with more supplies, including pain relievers, both over the counter and behind. I yank on some rubber gloves and then tear open one of the alcohol wipes. He yelps when I swipe it over the round hole that’s dead center on his right ass cheek.

“Did it go through?” I ask Hope.

She runs her hand down Wayne’s front and he mutters something about how hard it is not to get an erection when a hot chick is fondling him. I catch her eye roll, but relief shines in her gaze. If he can crack jokes, he’s going to be okay.

“No exit wound,” she confirms.

The truck bounces and swerves, which is going to make my next task a whole lot of fun. “I have to fish out the bullet.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Wayne says, making to sit up.

Hope pushes him back down. “No, you’re not. Don’t be a baby, you big oaf.”

He grumbles under his breath, this time griping about sassy women.

I pilfer through my kit until I find some scissors and a pair of tweezers. I soak both down with a clean alcohol wipe and then motion for Hope to hold the light closer to the hole. As gently as I can, I stick my pinky into the hole in his flesh.

Wayne curses like the sailor he is.

About an inch in, I feel the inorganic hardness of the bullet. We hit a bump and my pinky jams deeper.

“Fuck!” Wayne roars. “Get your finger out of my ass!”

Jesse cracks up laughing and then Wayne groans as he realizes what he just said. Smirking at Hope, I focus on using the tweezers to get this damn bullet out. I’ll use the scissors as a last resort.

Each time I get the tweezers around the end of the bullet, it slips off. It’s like playing that game Operation, but the stakes are a whole helluva lot higher than a noisy zap. I’m starting to wonder if I should cut the hole open a little wider. It’ll hurt and might make things worse, but we can’t leave the bullet in his ass.

When I finally get a good grip on the bullet, I pull, dislodging it. It takes a few more tugs and then it’s free. It hits the truck bed with a ping.

“It’s out, you big baby,” Hope teases.

Relief shines in her eyes and floods through my chest.

I spend the next several minutes rinsing his wound, stuffing it with gauze, and then bandaging it up. Because of its location, we’re going to need to change it often and most likely start him on the antibiotics Amy gave me. I’ll need to stitch it up, too, but not in the dark while hauling ass down the road in the back of a pickup truck. Fishing out the bullet was cruel enough. Stitching him up would be pure torture.

Once Wayne is settled, I clamber my way back over to Kellen. He’s waiting with a bottle of water and a granola bar. After disposing of the gloves and cleaning up, I accept his offering and wolf it down.

Aaron only stops once to check on everyone, give Wayne a little bit of shit for getting shot in the ass, and to fill up the tank. Then we’re back on the road, this time wary of travelers. Luckily, the only lights out here in the middle of damn nowhere are the headlights and taillights of the truck.

Boom.

I must’ve dozed off again because I wake to the distant sound of booming. Thunder? My head spins at the thought of another lightning storm.

“We’re nearing Denver,” Kellen says, voice tight. “Do you hear that?”

Not just one boom. Several booms. This can’t be good.

“Storm?”

Kellen shakes his head. “Sounds like a battlefield.”

“You think Denver is gone?”

“I don’t know.”

The closer we get to the city, an orange glow backlights the mountains on the horizon in front of us. I get a faint whiff of smoke. I’m reminded of Vegas, which was an absolute shitshow.

“At the very least,” Kellen says, “we need to find a radio and get word back to St. George. Those people headed their way are up to no good and they’re clearly fleeing from whatever happened in Denver.”

The chances of finding a working radio without risking our necks feels next to impossible. Despite that, I give him a nod. We’ll do what we can for the only people who’ve helped us on this journey.

Before we get closer to Denver, Aaron pulls the vehicle to a stop and hops out. He and Dan both meet us on the side of the truck bed.

With the truck stopped, the sounds coming from the city are unmistakable. Gunfire. Bombs. Explosions. The city is under siege.

“What do we do now?” Hope asks. “We can’t go into that.”

“We have to reach St. George and warn them,” Kellen says. “But how?”

Dan shakes his head. “They’re on their own. They’re guarded and can protect themselves against a dozen vehicles. It’s not worth losing any of our people just to give them a warning. I’m sorry, but I’m making this call. We go around Denver.”

“But—” Kellen starts.

Dan cuts him off. “I know. It sucks. It’s the way of the world now, though. If we come across a radio, we’ll try. But we’re not risking it. I’m sorry.”

With those words, he stomps back to the cab of the truck, climbs in, and slams the door shut. Aaron meets Hope’s wide-eyed gaze. She gives him a small nod.

“Okay,” Aaron says with a heavy, resigned sigh. “We’ll travel around. Take one of the smaller roads on the outskirts of the city, heading east. After we get to a safe place, though, we’re going to need to hunker down for the night. I’m beat.”

Everyone is somber as we make the trek away from the war going on in Denver. It’s as though the big cities all turned on each other. I’m hoping this Podunk town in Kansas will be our refuge because we just left the only safe place thus far.

Kellen takes my hand in his and threads our fingers together. It’s worth it, though. Being here with Kellen, no matter what dangers we face together, is better than staying in St. George alone.

My heart thumps violently in my chest. I think I love this man. It’s such a wild concept, but I feel it in my bones. Even though he nearly left without me, I know he feels the same.

To kill the boredom of this trip, I reach into my pack to find an ink pen. Kellen smirks at me and then helps me shove my jacket up my forearm to reveal the tic-tac-toe tattoo. I’m not focused on winning, just the gentle touches on my skin by the most amazing man I’ve ever met.

We play for what feels like hours, a small reprieve from our brutal reality. And when we’re too exhausted to play anymore, Kellen pulls me against his chest, arms cradled around me. I inhale the lingering scent of the motel soap and burrow into his warmth. He kisses the top of my head and whispers assurances that have my eyes drooping heavily.

We’ll go to Ransom, Kansas, and find Kellen’s brother.

Then we’ll find somewhere safe and make a life together.

Feeling hope in such a dismal world is foolish and a waste of time, yet when you have a future with someone great—someone you’ve gone to hell and back with—you can’t help but put all your stock into such a world.

It can’t be like this forever.

One day, we’ll be safe.

As I drift off, I hold onto that thought because the alternative is too depressing—too soul crushing to even consider.

Losing everything is what’s at stake.