Staying Alive

33

Max’s heart was pounding in his chest.

There was no turnoff ahead. There was no chance to lose them.

Max knew there was only one thing to do. And that was fight.

His mind was fixed. He was determined. He only saw one way out. And he wouldn’t change his mind, no matter what. Even if it meant sacrificing himself.

He didn’t know why he’d decided on what he had. He didn’t know why he was so dedicated to saving these people that he hadn’t even known a couple weeks ago. Maybe it was because he hadn’t had a purpose in his pre-EMP life. He’d just been an office drone, longing for a purpose, longing for some way to give his life meaning.

Now he had a purpose. Now his life could have meaning.

But it might mean losing his life in the process.

Max was OK with that.

He felt alive, like he never had before. Intense energy filled him, drowning out the pain.

“All right,” said Max, speaking loudly, his voice sounding commanding as it boomed through the minivan interior. “Here’s what we’re going to do. And it’s not up for discussion. Georgia, you’re going to slow down and I’ll drive. I’ll drop you all off, and then I’ll lead them down the road, away from you. You’re going to take with you what you can and run into the woods. Don’t turn back.”

“You can’t do this, Max,” said Mandy.

“I’m doing it,” said Max. “No arguing.”

“You don’t stand a chance against them alone, Max,” said Georgia. “I’m going with you.”

Max considered it.

Georgia had every reason to stay with him. She knew, as well as he did, that Sadie and Mandy had a better chance of avoiding capture if the men in the Bronco died. If Max went alone, and died without killing them, they’d still be on the hunt. They’d be more energized than before, more willing to do whatever it took to get what they’d wanted all along. Sure, it would give Sadie and Mandy a head start, but how far could they really get on foot?

The best case scenario would be if Max could stay behind to fight, letting them continue on in the van. But there wasn’t a situation where that would be possible.

“OK,” said Max. “Georgia and I will go in the van. Everyone else, we’re going to drop you off, and you’re going to run.”

“This is crazy,” said Mandy.

“It’s the only way,” said Max.

“I’m staying too,” said James.

“You’re going to stay with your sister, James,” said Georgia. There was finality in her tone. James knew enough not to argue. “She’s going to need someone to protect her.”

“I’ll stay then,” said Chad.

“It’s better if you go, Chad,” said Max. “You can protect them. James and Sadie are just kids. Sorry, James.”

“I’m not letting you two stay to die,” said Mandy.

“Who said anything about dying?” said Max. But he knew in his heart that the chances of him and Georgia surviving this were slim. But at least with the two of them, they’d most likely be able to kill the Bronco men too. They’d go down fighting.

“What goes for Chad goes for you too, Mandy,” said Max.

“Where should I pull over, Max?” said Georgia.

“Next curve,” said Max.

The atmosphere in the minivan was frantic.

“Mom, you can’t do this,” Sadie said.

“Take good care of her, James,” said Georgia. It sounded like she was trying to keep her voice steady, trying to keep herself from crying.

“Take food and guns with you,” said Max. “And water. Nothing else.”

They weren’t moving to get ready. They were stunned from Max’s plan.

“Come on!” shouted Max. “Get a move on it! When we pull over, you’re getting out. You’re only going to have thirty seconds to clear the van and get into the woods to cover. If they see you, the plan is over.”

That got them moving, scrambling around.

Max’s tactic was to shock them into movement, to get them to do something that they didn’t want to do, but something that would save their lives.

“Everyone ready?” said Max.

James knew the deal. He had sprung into action, and was moving around the van, distributing things.

“We’re close to the Ohio border,” said Max. “There’s a little town on the other side of 90, in Pennsylvania, called Albion. Head there. If we make it, we’ll meet you there, at the old granary outside on the edge of town.”

Albion was the only place Max could think of. He’d been there once, long ago, as a kid on a trip with his parents and his brother. He remembered that old granary for some reason.

Albion was as good of a place as any to meet. It was close to the big interstate, which would be easier to find than any other landmark. If they all lived, they could continue on over the border to Ohio.

“If you make it?” said Sadie. She was crying.

“Come on, Sadie,” said James. “We’ve got to get ready.”

“We can’t leave Mom and Max.”

“It’s going to be OK, Sadie. Everything’s going to be fine,” said James.

The minivan had just rounded the corner. The Bronco wasn’t in sight.

“Now!” shouted Max.

Georgia slammed on the brakes. The van jolted to an unpleasantly harsh stop.

“Go!” shouted Max.

James got the door open and was moving everyone out. He had to tug Sadie to get her out.

“Take care of them,” said Max, speaking to no one in particular. They were all responsible for each other.

They all had their rifles in their hands. They had some food with them. Just a little bit. It’d have to be enough. They had water. They’d make it. Max knew it.

Georgia already had her foot on the gas. They were moving. Fast. Max slammed the sliding door closed.

It was just Georgia and Max now. It was all up to them.

James, Sadie, and Chad had already disappeared into the trees, out of view. Mandy was partially visible. Max looked at her through the rear window of the minivan. He couldn’t tell, but it seemed as if she was looking at him. Then she disappeared.

Good, thought Max. They were out of sight.

They were barreling down a straightaway. Behind them, the Ford Bronco appeared.

“They’re back,” said Max. “Everyone got away safely.”

“So what’s the plan?” said Georgia, from the driver’s seat.

“We’re going to have to wing it.”

“You know you don’t have to do this, right, Max?”

“I know,” said Max.

He was watching the Bronco through his binoculars. The plan seemed to have worked. They hadn’t spotted the minivan stopping.

“We’d better lead them a little farther down,” said Max. “Give Mandy and everyone a chance to get a move on it.”

He noticed that he’d said Mandy’s name and no one else’s. But there wasn’t time to wonder about what that meant.

Georgia drove fast along the tree-lined rural road.

Max was busy getting himself ready. He checked to make sure he had his knife and his flashlight. He tightened the laces on his boots. He checked his Glock and his rifle.

“You have any family, Max?” said Georgia.

It seemed like a strange question, considering the situation. But she must have been thinking about James and Sadie, and what would happen to them if something happened to her.

“A brother,” said Max. “Estranged, though, I guess you could say.”

Georgia didn’t say anything.

An idea suddenly came to Max. His mind was racing with possibilities, but only one seemed like it would work well.

He was going to have to get underhanded. He was going to have to fight dirty if he wanted to survive. That was OK. This wasn’t the time for honor or principles. This was the time for staying alive, at whatever cost.

“These guys are in it for the fun,” said Max. “I’m going to give them what they want. Pull the van over.”

“Pull over? Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” said Max. “I’m going to challenge them to a fight. Man to man. Hand to hand.”

“Why would they do that? They could just shoot us. It’d be easier.”

“I’ll tell them that if they win and kill me, you’ll tell them where the girls are. Plus, they’re going to like this. If I read them right, they’re in it for the chase, for the adventures. They’re sickos. This’ll be right up their alley. Killing a man in hand to hand combat isn’t something most relish. It’s despicable. But these guys, I can see it in his eyes, this is what he’s been waiting for. He won’t pass up a chance like this.”

Georgia slowed the van down, eventually stopping.

In the pack taken from the farmhouse attackers, Max took a Ka-Bar combat knife and its sheath. It was a thin sheath, and Max was able to stuff it into the laces of his boot. He made sure his pant leg covered the boot, making the knife invisible.

“We’re going to play dirty,” said Max. “I want you to be ready with your rifle. Don’t hesitate to shoot if the moment’s right.”

“I can’t get them both,” said Georgia. “I’ll be able to take one out, and the other one will kill you.”

“Wait until the moment’s right then,” said Max. “And don’t let them see the rifle.”

Max slid open the minivan door.

“Max,” said Georgia.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Max gave her a stiff nod and stepped out onto the road.

The wind had picked up, ruffling his hair and his shirt. His hair had grown longer than he normally let it. There hadn’t been time since the EMP to worry about keeping up appearances. The stubble on his face was thick.

Max had his Glock in its holster. He didn’t reach for it. He raised his hands in the air and began limping towards the Ford Bronco, which was slowing to a stop some hundred meters behind the minivan.

The men sat in the Bronco for just a moment, before the passenger got out.

He looked bigger, somehow, than he had before. Beefy and strong, like he’d spent his whole life eating and working out, trying to get as big as possible. He must have been eating pretty well since the EMP.

Max, on the other hand, had lost weight since the EMP, as everyone in his group had. But he was still strong, a wiry sort of natural strength that came from somewhere inside him.

Max kept his hands in the air, even though the other man had his shotgun with him as before.

“What’s all this?” shouted the man.

Max kept walking towards him, closing the distance. He saw the man looking towards the van.

“Where are the others?”

“They’re gone,” said Max.

The man kept peering at the van.

“There’s still one there. This is your plan or something?” The man spoke with a gruff voice, full of sickness and cruelty. “You thought you could let them escape and fight us yourself?”

“Something like that,” said Max.

“We can still have fun with that one in the van,” said the man. “She’ll do just fine, and then we’ll find the others. Don’t worry. We know these woods like the backs of our hands.”

“I’ve got a proposition for you,” said Max.

“Yeah?” said the man, spitting a glob of tobacco onto the ground.

Max had never been a smoker or dipper, but he’d tried dip once in high school. He remembered the pleasant buzz, the rush of energy. It could be useful for a situation like this, but Max knew that he didn’t need it. The adrenaline was enough for him. He felt like he could handle anything.

“Hand to hand combat,” said Max. “One on one. We fight like men. To the death. If you win, my partner there will tell you where the girls are.”

The man studied Max in silence. He started laughing, that same laugh as before.

The wind blew in gusts. Dead leaves from the year before danced across the two lanes of blacktop.

“Sounds like fun,” said the man.

Max almost breathed a sigh of relief. He’d accepted the deal. The plan had worked. So far.

The hardest part was yet to come.

“If you pull any tricks,” said the man. “My partner’s got a high powered rifle with a scope. You don’t want to mess with him.”

Max knew that even if he won, the man’s partner wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. Max knew that these men had no honor. And that was why he wasn’t going to play by the rules either. He just hoped Georgia was faster than the other one.

The man walked back to the Ford, keeping himself facing Max the whole time. He had a few words with his partner in the Bronco.

“It’s a deal,” he shouted.

He lay his shotgun on the hood of the Bronco.

“Leave that Glock, though.”

Max removed the Glock from its holster and set it down on the road.

“You armed?” said Max.

“Of course.”

The man took a Glock of his own from a holster. And he took a revolver out too. He set both down.

The other man in the Bronco stepped out. He held a high-powered rifle in his hands. He pointed it at the van.

A shot rang out, intensely loud.

Max hadn’t been hit. He looked back at the van. One of the tires had been shot out.

Another shot. Another tire had been hit, completely deflated.

The back of the minivan sunk towards the ground, both its rear tires punctured. Georgia wouldn’t get far in the van like that.

The men both grinned and laughed.

“That’s so your partner doesn’t try to escape when I finish you off.”

Georgia would have no way to escape. Max would have to kill them. And Georgia would have to shoot the other. There wasn’t any other way out.

He and Max approached each other.

Max knew that it was a good bet that a guy who carried two large handguns had other sorts of weapons on him. But he didn’t ask. He had his own knife on him, and he wasn’t going to set those down. He was expecting trickery from the man, a knife pulled on him when he was least expecting it. Max knew he’d have to act first.

The man spat on the ground again, while looking Max directly in the eyes.

They were close now. Only ten feet from each other.

The man’s face was full of small scars. A large scar ran down his neck. He’d been in fights before, bad ones.

He was at least a full head taller than Max.

No words were spoken.

They stared into each other’s eyes. The man didn’t blink.

Suddenly, he let out a yell, an animal-like growl, and charged Max. His head was low, his body lurching forward.

Max stepped to the side, but not fast enough. His injured leg slowed him down.

The man collided with Max, knocking him to the ground.

Max’s lungs were deflated. He struggled to breathe.

The man rolled on top of him. He was heavy, his weight pressing down on Max. He raised his arm and swung down, expertly shifting the weight of his torso to add more power to the punch. His fist was hard and it connected with the side of Max’s face.

Max felt dizzy. The pain seared through him.

Another punch, this one in his stomach. Though not as hard.

Max finally got in one of his own, sending his fist smashing into the man’s face.

The man got up and stood over Max, laughing.

“Nice one,” he said. “I was worried for a second this was going to be too easy. I want to have some fun.”

Good, thought Max. Let his opponent not take it too seriously. Let him think it’s a game. Let him have his fun. Until the moment is right and he dies.

Max wanted as many chances as he could get. He didn’t care that the man was giving him a breather, just to toy with him more. It’d be better for Max in the end.

“You fight OK,” said the man. “But you don’t stand a chance against me. Come on, get up.”

Max struggled to his feet. His leg was killing him.

They both put their hands up, and began slowly circling each other. Each was looking for the chance to get a punch in.

The man came at Max with a right hook, fast and powerful.

Max managed to dodge it, even with his leg, stepping to the side.

He came back at his opponent with a left hook, even though he was right handed. It caught the man in the side, and he lost his breath for a moment before straightening back up.

“Good one,” he said. “But you’ve got to hit me harder than that.”

The continued circling each other, punching and dodging. The wind was blowing and time was passing.

Max took another punch, this one to the face. Blood streamed out from his nose. It might have been broken. Not that it mattered.

He’d gotten the man in the stomach with an uppercut, but the man was strong, and he didn’t seem winded at all.

“I’m getting tired of this,” said the man, spitting. “You’re stronger than I thought. But not as fun.”

Max said nothing. He kept his thoughts to himself.

“You haven’t said a damn word,” said the man. “You’re too good or something? Is that it? Taking the high road? I’ll show you the high road.”

The man reached into his pocket and drew forth a folding knife. It was an automatic, and a second later, with the push of a button, a vicious looking double-edged dagger blade shot forth from the handle.

The man charged Max, holding the knife, ready to stab.

Max dodged the blade, but he couldn’t dodge the man’s bulk.

The man collided with Max and they both fell to the ground.

Max was on his back, looking up into the man’s gruesome, scarred face. Max’s body was pinned down, under the man’s massive weight.

Before the man could stab him, Max seized the man’s knife hand with both of his own. He twisted, pulling down, hard. But he still didn’t let go of the knife.

Max let go with one hand and swung with a close fist at the knife. Part of his fist landed on the knife blade, cutting Max’s hand. But he’d hit the handle too, and the knife went flying, clattering on the pavement.

Max bent his leg, bringing his boot closer to his hand. He was reaching for the knife in his boot. This was his chance.

“Don’t think I don’t know about the knife in your boot,” snarled the man. His hand slammed down on Max’s hand, pinning his wrist against the pavement. “Oldest trick in the book.”

Max’s other hand was free. And bleeding.

He dug into his pocket, his fingers closing around his folding knife. His thumb found the hole. He opened the blade in his pocket.

“I’ll just beat you to death,” spat the man. His eyes were glowing with rage. “This is for trying to stab me… a damn dirty trick…”

His fist collided with Max’s face.

Max saw stars. His vision went blurry.

Max saw the fist rising again, ready to strike. One more blow and Max knew he’d be unconscious.

Max drew the knife from his pocket with his left hand. He brought it up fast, drawing it across the man’s throat, slicing diagonally.

A line of blood appeared on his throat.

Everything seemed to pause. Blood started gushing, flowing freely from the long cut.

A garbled, messy scream, muted.

The man was gasping for breath. It sounded like he was underwater. Blood-filled coughs.

Max felt the hot blood splatter onto his own face.

Thirty seconds later, the man was dead. His heavy weight collapsed fully onto Max. Max pushed, but he couldn’t get out from underneath the corpse.

Max could barely see.

He could only think of one thing… Georgia.

Two shots rang out. Like a syncopated rhythm. One after the other. Rapid and loud.

Georgia had shot her rifle. The other man had shot his.

Who had lived? Had either of them?