Chapter 78: Diogo

"You need to slow down, friend."
"I'm not your fucking friend," I snarl at Stryker, hitting the gas even harder. "I'm your boss, and that's my wife out there in the hands of an Outsider."
"Yeah, I know, but you ain't gonna make it far if you tear up the vehicle on this shit cracked road. We'll blow a tire or run out of gas before we can get to the next fuelling station. We won't be worth anything to your girl if we're stuck out in the desert." He says calmly, scanning the horizon in front of us, looking for any signs of other cars or predators. "Besides, you've left your backup in the dust, boss."
The desire to punch Stryker in the face is nearly overwhelming.
"Fuck." I hit the brakes and we skid, the vehicle sliding on the broken pavement. He's right. If I keep abusing the jeep, I'm going to blow a tire. Once we're stopped, I reach for my door handle. "You drive."
Without another word we switch spots. It's not easy for me to give over control when I'm desperate to get to Taran as fast as we can, but I know my man, he'll get us there almost as fast and in one piece. He understands the stakes. Stryker speeds over the broken highway, his sharp eyes catching problem spots where he takes us through at a slower pace. We don't talk during most of the trip. Nothing to say. He just drives, taking us across the desert. Most of the truly impassable sections of highway, fallen bridges and such have been mapped out. Although we don't usually go this far out from Sanctuary, we're well versed in the topography. Unfortunately, a few sections slow us down, sections of road that have become too deteriorated to pass over. We end up having to go around, tracking across the naked desert.
As we pass over one such section, Stryker comments, "Someone's been here recently."
"How do you know?" I peer through the window trying to see what he's seeing. After a moment of scanning I see faint track marks, heading the same direction as us.
"Mother nature likes to erase our tracks as we make them. Wind and water in this area are quick to take out human activity." He squints into the setting sun, taking the jeep carefully over the rougher terrain. "Bet a month's rations these tracks belong to our guy. Not many people would come out this way. No good reason and it's dangerous. Think we're on the right path."
"You'd better be right," I grunt. "We don't have the time to turn around and look somewhere else."
The thought of never seeing Taran again turns my guts to acid. It would be too easy to lose her out here. If we're wrong and Talon wasn't the one that grabbed her, or if he went in another direction, they could disappear and I'd have no way of finding her again. In a world without people, it's surprisingly easy to lose a person.
After we cross the broken section of pavement, the tracks lead back onto the main highway and disappear. There's not enough dirt to see where he's gone. As if sensing my unease, Stryker speeds us up until we're flying down the road, everything around us a blur.
"We'll have to hit up the nearest fuel station," he comments.
I nod, but don't say anything. We scanned a map shortly after leaving Sanctuary, noting the important stops. Fuel stations, safe places to rest and towns to avoid. The fuel station is off the highway and dangerous to reach. Dangerous to linger at. Somehow, despite their limited capabilities, Primitive's have figured out that there are several things humans can't survive without; food, water and fuel. Unfortunately, they like to gather around fuelling stations, waiting for their prey to show up.
I might not like it, but we have no choice, we need gas. I reach into the back seat, grab my rifle, check the chamber and say, "You fuel, I'll cover us."
He jerks his head in a nod and hits the gas harder. "We'll have five minutes to do this. I've been here before, this place is popular."
It's popular because anyone driving through here has to stop for fuel. In a barren land, with very few humans to feed on, the Primitive's know exactly where to hang out.
"Let's hope there's still fuel in the pumps."
He doesn't acknowledge my concern. He doesn't need to. On a normal day, if the pumps were damaged or empty, we'd be completely fucked. Luckily, today, we have an army following close behind us. A few of the guys would have enough fuel left to get us to the next station.
"Head up, Fuentes, we're coming in hot."
My head snaps up and I immediately see what he's talking about. Two Primitives, currently dots on the horizon, are running toward us, following our dust trail to their next meal. If this is any indication, then this town is for damn sure overrun. I prime the rifle and check that I have my sidearm and knife. While Stryker hurtles toward the fuel pumps, I check his weapons, making sure his holster is easily accessible.
Neither of us say a word as he skids to a halt, the jeep sliding into position next to the first pump. I leap out of the car and take aim at the first Primitive headed our way. I don't shoot though. I'm a damn good shot, but I won't risk wasting a bullet. God only knows how many Primitives will converge and bullets are a premium in a society where pretty much all resources, including weapons, are hard to come by. Stryker grabs the pump and slams it into the fuel tank. Instead of the familiar gush it should make as the tank fills, the handle clicks in his hand. He checks the tank, checks the pump and tries again. Nothing.
"Motherfucker!" he growls, checking the next one, it clicks empty too. Someone's been here, fuelled up some big tanks or something and emptied a ground reservoir that's been working since the Great Fall. I've done the same. Sent trucks out from Sanctuary in search of large amounts of gasoline. "Gotta move to the other side, boss."
"Do it!" I shout. "I've got us covered."
He leaps into the jeep and pulls it around the gas bar to the other pumps. The advancing Primitives come within range. "I'm about to bring the fucking town down on top of us. Be ready."
I don't have time to see if the new fuel pump works, I aim at the first Primitive and take its head clean off its shoulders. The body hits the dirt, rolling hard from the momentum. His partner doesn't even slow, doesn't look back, just continues its mindless advance into the path of my slugs. I take the second one's head off, the boom of the shot echoing through the buildings around us.
I back toward the fuel pumps, reloading my rifle. The sidearm has more shots in it, but the rifle is more effective and works better for long distance. All is quiet, the only sound is the gentle rushing of fuel as it fills our tank. I scan the buildings. It doesn't take long, seconds later they look like they're moving as a crawling mass of bodies bursts through broken windows and doors, hurtling toward the sounds of the gunshots, the sounds of humans.
"Hurry the fuck up!" I yell, moving back toward the car as I empty the rifle taking down the first few. I shove the rifle back into the holster on my back, pull my sidearm and my knife.
"Get in the car," Stryker shouts as the horde converges. I take out as many as I can as I back slowly toward the car.
Shooting from behind me draws my attention and I turn. Stryker and the car are covered in them now. He's killing as many as he can as fast as he can, but more and more come at us. I'm used to dealing with Primitives at fueling stations, but this is a whole other level.
A Primitive lands on my back, it's claw-like hands digging into my shoulders as it tries to find a grip. I reach over my shoulder, wrap my arm around its neck and drag it to the ground, my knife following closely behind, slamming deep into the creature's neck. I don't have time to make sure it's dead, to cut off its head. I yank the knife out and twist around to take the next one, its strong arms reaching for me, preparing to tear the flesh from my bones.
I'm completely overwhelmed by Primitives, I don't even see Stryker anymore. I can't worry about what's happening to him. He can take care of himself. There's a reason he's part of my team. Minutes later, or maybe seconds, he proves my confidence correct as he slams the vehicle into the group of Primitives lining up to take me down. Several of them go under the jeep while a few roll over the top. He barely misses hitting me. Although at this point I would welcome the distraction.
He slams on the brakes sliding to a halt several feet in front of me. I maim and kill as I work my way to the passenger door. I'm about to reach for the handle when the window next to my head shatters, a bullet lodging into the head of a Primitive trying to bury its teeth in my shoulder. I dive through the now open window, twisting onto my back as Stryker hands me a loaded gun. Taking it, I shoot everything that tries to climb in the window behind me.
Stryker hits the gas and peels away from the fueling station. A Primitive thumps against the back of the jeep as it rolls off the top and hits the ground. I continue to kill anything that pops up in the window, the sound of gunfire in such close confines ringing in my ears.
Except for the ones clinging to the frame I can't see any more Primitives, but I know they're chasing us. They'll continue to do so until they collapse, unable to run any longer. Gradually the ones on the vehicle fall away until I'm relatively certain we're alone. I pull myself up in the seat, reload the gun and point it at the window, preparing for another attack if it comes.
We continue that way for several miles, Stryker driving the jeep hell-bent across the desert, back toward the main highway while I maintain cover on the window. Finally, I begin to relax, setting the gun down on the seat. I send a signal out on the all-communications channel that the Oasis fuel station is no longer viable. The entire area has been overrun by Primitives. I put the radio back and eye Stryker.
"You shot my fucking window out, you bastard."
He laughs, the sound a short, rusty bark. "You're welcome, boss."