Warfare Season: An Apocalyptic Thriller Read online

* * *

  The FBI had been hard at work, tracking people through their cell phones. They were easily able to pinpoint a location on Austin. Although they didn't know exactly where he was, they knew which general area he was in based on the cell phone tower in his jurisdiction. They moved out promptly in search of him.

  * * *

  As Austin got closer to the building, he realized that it was actually an abandoned mental hospital. The word ASYLUM was engraved into the wall just above the main entrance.

  He went inside and looked around. Not a whole lot had been left behind, except for a large amount of debris that was scattered throughout the area.

  After glimpsing through a series of dilapidated rooms, he found a room with only minimal dust and debris. He chose to stay on the ground level, making escape less difficult if necessary. The staircase looked unsafe, anyway.

  He sat down on the cold concrete floor and washed down a snack with some water. He stared out the window towards a serene-looking scene that he assumed would probably not last for much longer. He took his cell phone out and started doodling through it. Not long after that, he fell asleep.

  Chapter 8

  By the time Austin awoke from a strange vivid dream, it was dark outside. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. He had slept longer than he thought. The noise was what had woken him up. Someone—more likely a group of people— was stirring around on the floor above him. The ceiling sounded like it was going to cave in.

  Austin got up and looked out the broken window. An armed group of people were walking towards the building. It was unclear whether they were vigilantes, terrorists, or just a deranged group of people trying to survive, but they were carrying high-powered rifles.

  He got his stuff together in a hurry and headed toward the hall, stopping at the doorway. He peaked into the hallway. A myriad of light beams from flashlights began to illuminate the entrance of the building.

  Not wanting to take any chances of being detected, Austin turned off his flashlight. Hoping to find a way out in the back, he dashed down the hall in the opposite direction, leaving his cell phone behind.

  Heavy footsteps were now pouring down the delicate staircase, walking single file so as not to take any chances of having the old staircase collapse.

  As he got to the end of the pitch black dark hall, he tuned on his flashlight. He walked into room after room; all of them were dead-end pathways.

  Voices were now traveling down the hall in his direction. They were getting closer.

  “Whose flashlight is that?” one of them asked.

  “I don't know,” another one answered. “Bob, is that you?” he called down the hall.

  Austin turned off his flashlight.

  “He just turned it off.”

  “Yeah, that's bogus. Something ain't right.”

  Austin turned around the corner and made his way down another hallway. Every hallway seemed to lead to three more hallways as he nervously maneuvered his way through the dark building.

  It was like a maze.

  He walked himself right into a corner, and before he had a chance to backtrack, he could already hear the voices in the very near vicinity, closing in on him.

  He was trapped.

  “We know this building a lot better than you do!” one of the voices shouted. “What do you say we do this the easy way? Let us kill you quick. Don't make us torture you to death.”

  “We'll find you!” another voice shouted. “No matter where you are, we'll find you!”

  * * *

  The threatening group didn't see the soldiers when they pulled up in their military vehicles. Neither did Austin as he stood perfectly still in the enclosed area of the building. Not only were they too distracted to see, but the military had taken extra precautions to avoid being seen. After tracing Austin's cell phone, and after having already searched the rest of the area, they decided he might have retreated to the abandoned mental asylum, which also happened to be a place where drug dealers gathered.

  * * *

  “In here, Joe,” one of the riflemen warned. “He's in here.”

  Austin made a run for it, dashing into the next room. It was a large room; probably the old cafeteria, what was left of it.

  Gunshots went off. Some of the bullets got very close to Austin. He made it all the way to the end of the room without turning on his flashlight. There were no exit doors, but there were windows. He found a broken chair leg lying on the floor and used it to start hammering out the glass.

  “In here! Don't let him get away!”

  Austin kept knocking out the glass.

  They entered the room and once again pointed their rifles at Austin.

  “I told you to do this the easy way! Now we're gonna—

  Now a different set of gunshots were going off. Screams emanated throughout the building as the military began shooting down everyone with a gun.

  The riflemen that had cornered Austin were now running back to the hallway, returning fire on the military. After capping a soldier, they were shot down, themselves.

  Austin escaped through the windowsill and walked downhill to the forest-like area behind the building. He didn't realize that it was raining until he felt the drops gently tapping his head.

  * * *

  “Okay,” Corporal Johnson said. “Enough of this. Our primary objective is to locate Austin.”

  “We're clearing the building right now, sir,” one of the soldiers responded.

  “Just remember, do not open fire on him. If he's armed, try to get him to drop his weapon without dropping him.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Corporal Johnson looked down at the corpses and sighed in displeasure.

  * * *

  Austin made his way through the trees and shrubs, staying close to the road, but not directly on it. He noticed another military vehicle speedily heading toward the abandoned asylum. But they didn't notice him. He turned off his flash light for a few seconds until they finished passing by. Then he turned it back on again and kept moving.

  Only now did it occur to him that he was going the wrong way.

  He raced across the deserted road to get back on track. He was now in another woodsy area, surrounded shrubs and trees, some of them still partially barren due to it being springtime. He was hoping that they would provide adequate cover.

  * * *

  After the soldiers finished clearing the building, they reported back to Corporal Johnson.

  “Building's clear. There's no sign of him, except for this phone, and it's locked.”

  “So much for tracking him,” Corporal Johnson said grimly. “But we can take his phone back to the station and extract some information from it. In the meantime, he can't be too far from here. Let's move out.”

  Chapter 9

  After walking all night, Austin finally decided to sit down and rest. He had traveled through two small towns, a distance he had estimated to be about twenty miles.

  Although he had replenished himself with food and water, there was little he could do to soothe his nerves and aching bones.

  The rain had mostly tapered off, but it was still trickling down.

  He was still in a woody area. His back was leaning against a large rock, giving some support to his sore joints.

  He pulled out the bible that he had brought with him and started reading. He had put it off for too long. After flipping through the pages and scanning through different verses, he landed on some chapters that really spoke to him. He thought about how God was still in control, even in situations as grim as this. As tired as he was, he kept reading.

  * * *

  The FBI had gotten a hold of Austin's cell phone provider. They claimed that Austin was in danger and that they needed his cell phone information. The cell phone company agreed to cooperate. They pulled up all of his text messages, as well as his incoming and outgoing calls.

  Many of the calls were from random people that had dialed the wrong number, maki
ng things more confusing for the FBI.

  Most of the other calls were work-related from his place of business.

  Any friends that showed up in his list of contacts were all interrogated. No one claimed to have known anything about Austin's plans or whereabouts.

  * * *

  Austin woke up just in time to watch the sun set. He felt tired enough to sleep for a few more hours, but he decided it would be best to continue walking again. His neck was stiff, and his blisters were hurting more than ever. He took another painkiller, along with some food and water. Then he gathered his stuff and left.

  A helicopter was approaching from his left side. He hurriedly ran for cover behind a tree. The helicopter began circling the area.

  They see me, he thought. A wave of anxiety bolted through his abdomen. He started feeling sick at the thought of being captured.

  It was dim, but the sun had not gone all the way down yet.

  The helicopter got closer to him. It started idling in the air.

  He dropped to the ground and laid perfectly still. If they did see him, he would rather they thought that he was dead. There were already plenty of dead people, anyway. One of many corpses lying on the ground wasn't as important as a living outlaw that was on the run.

  The helicopter took off, heading west. But the sound of the propellers hadn't completely faded away.

  Austin started to get back up. He thew himself back down again when he saw that the helicopter had turned around and was now heading east, back toward him.

  This time it didn't slow down. It kept going until it disappeared out of sight. He waited until the sound of the propellers was no more. Then he started walking again, disappearing into the evening shadows.

  * * *

  A gang was standing on a bridge that crossed over into the next town. They were shoving each other, making obnoxious jokes, and sipping rum.

  “We shank em all,” Jose joked. “Snort that crank and grab a shank.”

  They were celebrating about how they had gained the upper hand on a rival gang during the riots. Due to all the commotion on riot night, they were easily able to evade accountability for fighting right out in the open.

  “Shoot yourself with a needle, shoot them with a strap,” Juan added.

  Laughter erupted all around.

  Austin was about twenty yards away from approaching the bridge when he saw the gang. They saw him as soon as he saw them. He was concerned, but he was also relieved that they weren't soldiers from the military.

  “Look at that boy right there,” Marco said, pointing at Austin.

  “You got the strap?” Victor asked.

  Austin changed his direction, walking through the grassy area underneath the bridge and off to the side. Due to his throbbing blisters, he was practically limping.

  Marco, Jose, and Victor all leaned over the edge of the bridge, watching Austin pass by. Juan was out of site.

  One of them yelled something out at Austin, but it was incomprehensible. They yelled it even louder, but the heightened volume didn't cancel the fact that it was still incomprehensible gibberish.

  Austin didn't even look at them. He just kept walking, pretending not to hear them at all.

  Victor took another hit of rum. Then he grabbed the revolver that the four of them were sharing.

  When the gunshot went off, he could no longer pretend that they weren't there.

  The evening had now gone fully dark, but it was still possible to see anything that was within a close enough proximity. Austin knew that if he could get at least thirty yards or so ahead of them, they would lose him in the darkness. In the meantime, he ran for cover directly underneath the bridge.

  Three more gunshots went off.

  Now Austin heard the three of them shouting at Victor for wasting their extremely limited ammo on blind shots in the darkness.

  “I'm just trying to get this guy's attention,” Victor shouted back at them, spittle flying through his lips. He fired again. Then he stopped to reload.

  Austin took off.

  “There he goes,” Jose said. “Hurry up.”

  Victor hurriedly reloaded the revolver. Then he jumped in the car and started the engine, heading for the other side of the bridge. Juan, Marco, and Jose ran downhill and chased after Austin underneath the bridge.

  Austin stood still in the dark shadows under the bridge. He heard the car's tires peeling above him as it sped away. For a second, he thought all four of them had left, but then he heard voices and footsteps heading his way. Sticks and twigs were snapping as they got closer and closer.

  Austin clenched his knife, anticipating the worst. He waited and waited. Then he decided to take off again.

  “There he is,” Marco said. “He's running.”

  “Victor!” they shouted. “Victor! He's on his way up!”

  When Austin got to the other side of the bridge, he ran uphill as fast as he could. Victor was sitting in his car waiting for him. At first Austin kept going, but then Victor got out of the car and pointed his gun at him, stopping Austin in his tracks. He ran back downhill again, underneath the bridge.

  He ran right past the trio, slashing Jose in the face. Jose whimpered, placing both hands on his face.

  Next, he took a slash at Marco, making a dent in his neck.

  Juan backed off.

  “You got him?” Victor asked from the distance. “Where is he?”

  Austin ran back in the other direction, towards Victor's car.

  “He's getting away,” Marco said.

  Victor headed back the other way.

  Austin got into the car and looked at the ignition. Victor had the keys. He got out and slashed the front tire with his knife. If he couldn't get away from them in a hurry, he would at least make sure they couldn't follow him. He wanted to slash a second tire, but there was no time. Victor had already made his way back up the hill.

  Austin made a run for it. Five gunshots were fired, but Victor missed them all. He got into his car and started the engine. He reloaded the revolver with the very last of his ammo. Then he took off, stomping on the accelerator and peeling the tires maniacally. As he gained speed on Austin he made a sharp turn. Not even realizing he was driving on a flat, he lost control of the car and crashed violently into a tree trunk on the side of the road. He was ejected through the windshield and thrown about ten yards from the crash site.

  The car was totaled to the point of being rendered useless, but Austin went back in search for the gun.

  Victor's face was an unrecognizable frame of gore. Shards of glass were still lodged deep inside his skull. The gun was nowhere near him.

  When Austin looked up, he saw about fifteen figures heading his way. It was the rest of the gang meeting up with Juan, Marco, and Jose.

  Austin went back to the wrecked car, searching for the gun. Using his flashlight, he opened the front door and checked the seats. There was still nothing.

  The gang was getting very close now; close enough for Austin to see some of their faces. Then he found the revolver lying on the floor. It must have slid off of the seat during the crash. He turned off his flashlight and left the scene.

  He didn't slow down his pace until he got about half a mile away from the crash site. He checked to make sure the revolver was loaded. It was. It was a fully loaded five-shot revolver. He was exhausted and almost borderline horrified, but at least now he was armed with a gun.

  Chapter 10

  Austin was almost there. He was just outside of his uncle's town. It had been nearly two days since he had encountered any real obstacles. But that would change.

  He was on a road that had ditches on each side. There were two nearby roads to his left and right that were within a very close distance to each other.

  There were five military vehicles parked in the middle of the road to his right. Soldiers were standing all around. He could also see soldiers and military vehicles on the road to his left.

  There was no more food or water. He couldn't afford to wast
e anymore time by backtracking to avoid the military. He needed to reach his uncle's house soon.

  He stepped into the ditch and started walking with his head down low. The road he was on was clear, but he had to stay hidden.

  Occasionally, he would see a soldier looking in his direction. It would appear that they were looking right at him, and he wasn't sure whether or not they were. They would just turn ad stare in his direction for fifteen seconds or so before looking away. Then it would happen all over again.

  One of the vehicles took off and headed in his direction.

  This it it, he thought. They saw me.

  The vehicle drove down the road that Austin was on. He hit the ground and waited for it to pass. But instead of passing, it slowed down. A car door slammed.

  Austin pulled out the revolver.

  The car door opened and slammed again. Then the vehicle took off. Austin sighed and put the revolver back into his bug-out bag.

  When Austin stood back up, he could see a face staring at him from over the ditch.

  “Austin? I'm Corporal Johnson. I had a feeling that it might have been you in this ditch. I spotted you from the other road.”

  “What's this about?”

  “I've got orders to take you in. I don't want to do it. But if I don't bring you in now, they'll never stop looking for you.”

  “What's so special about me?”

  “Everyone's special. You're just a hard person to get a hold of. You left your cell.” He tossed Austin's phone into his hand.

  “I left it there on purpose. I figured it might distract you for a while.”

  “Austin, I won't make you come with me. I've seen what they have been doing in those emergency camps, and it isn't good. They're testing them out for something much bigger. Eventually, they're gonna try to imprison the whole world in those things. I help who I can. I've already helped a number of people escape. But it's getting more difficult to cover my tracks. So. . .” Johnson looked away in deep thought. Then he sighed and looked back at Austin. “So just make sure that you stay out of sight. You're gonna have to do a better job than what you just pulled here. It's only gonna get more challenging. Take care of yourself. And good luck.”