Knights of the Apocalypse (A Duck & Cover Adventure Post-Apocalyptic Series Book 2) (16 page)

The gunshot dropped
her before she topped the bank.

Aaron screamed and
rushed to her side. He took her into his arms and held her, but there was no
response. The bullet had passed through her chest and out her back. Tears
filled his eyes as her death became real.

Jerry ran to the
river and looked for the shooter.

Across the river, the
man in black stood and dusted the desert from his leathers. He said nothing,
but gave Jerry a small wave and a smile as he slung the sniper rifle over his
back.

The water was cold
but Jerry rushed through the light current and up the other bank. The sand was
loose and difficult to climb. He took handfuls of dirt and clawed his way to
the top.

An engine roared to
life and Jerry found nothing but a cloud of dust waiting for him. The jeep
turned back on the road through Aztec and the Dog laid on the horn as he passed
through the town.

Jerry rushed back
across the river and found Aaron still holding the girl in his arms. He
screamed through tears. “Who was it? Who did this?”

Jerry hung his head.
“It was the prince’s man.” He looked at Shane. “The prince did this.”

Aaron sobbed. His
tears turned to rage. He stared at Shane. “Do you believe me now, asshole?”

Shane shrunk back. “Well, yeah. Now it’s pretty obvious.”

FIFTEEN

Erica awoke in her
clothes and slowly opened each eye bit by bit in an attempt to outfox the sun
that was trying to kick in the window.

The night was a blur.
There were drinks. There was laughing. There was a … bard? That couldn’t be
right. But she definitely remembered someone telling stories with a
lute—tales of knights and kings and damsels. Oh, there were so many
damsels.

These fantastic
stories of triumph over ogres and giants and intelligent beasts blended
together in Erica’s head with the more unreal confessions of the women that had
taken her out to the tavern.

Each had their own
sordid tale of survival that had led them to the beds of the Kingdom of the
Five Peaks. They had done what they had to in order to survive the wasteland
and they were still doing what they must to get by. There was no shame among
the friends, only understanding. They weren’t proud of their place in the
kingdom, but they were safe from the horrors of the outside world.

Like so many, they
had found themselves alone after the world fell apart. Erica and Brae seemed to
be the only exception. They had each found someone in the aftermath that was
more than a companion. They had both found a love that they would cherish until
the end of the world again.
 

Brae gushed for hours
about Shane: how wonderful he was, how caring, how understanding and how
strong. His band toured the small villages and
communities
back east playing for food and supplies. They had rocked her town of Hope’s
Landing and she had fallen madly in love.
 

She would never leave
him, she said. Even when they were forced out of Knoxville, she refused to
leave his side. And he would never leave her. Even with what she had been
forced to become.

From there the
evening became mostly tears of regret and homesickness until the other girls
ordered more drinks. They were there for her. They would always be there for
her because, “Girls had to stick together.” There would be a hundred losers
like “Sir Tom Thumb,” but they would always have each other.

By the end of the evening,
Brae felt better and Erica couldn’t feel a thing. That changed in the morning.
She couldn’t remember the last time she drank so much. She rolled forward and
felt everything rush to her forehead. She groaned from the pain.

“Brae?”

There was no answer.
And there was nowhere the girl could be. The apartment was a single room and a
bath, and from her place on the bed she could see the bathroom was empty. That
was, unless Brae was sleeping in the tub. Erica took a deep breath and rolled
out of bed.

They were heavy
steps, but they got her to the small en suite where she found a note on the
bathroom mirror from her new “bestest ever friend.”

Jen,

I can’t thank you enough for last night. No one has ever
listened to me like that. You are a true friend. To say thank you, I let you
sleep in. Hannibal needed to go out so I took her for a long walk. Enjoy the
silence.

                                                           
Love
your bestest ever friend, Brae

Erica looked at her
watch. It was half past ten. She couldn’t remember the last time she got to
sleep in and her head hurt so much that even remembering caused her pain. She
looked back at the bed covered with a pile of blankets. They were inviting her
back into their warm embrace and she smiled. She could sleep in. She wasn’t
going to waste it. Jerry would most likely return today. She could tell him
what she had learned and they could be on their way. The girls were nice and it
was good to have girlfriends again, but she wanted to leave this bizarre place
right after she got some more sleep.

She rolled into the
blankets and rocked back and forth until all the openings were sealed against
the cool air of the apartment. Closing her eyes, she did her best to picture
nothing and it was wonderful. She wanted to enjoy the silence of the room and
her own thoughts.

The pounding on the
door ruined everything. She grumbled as she found her way out of the blankets
again. Ten thirty was technically sleeping in, but a few hours more would have
been perfect. The pounding continued. It had to be Brae. Erica opened the door.

Sir Thomas of the
Kingdom of the Five Peaks looked so pissed that it actually covered up the
stupid.

The man made her
sick. The stories about him had been prolific the night before. She squinted
against the headache. “Brae’s not here.”

“I’ll wait.” Tommy
pushed her aside and stepped into the room and shut the door with a snap.
 

It sounded like a
gunshot in Erica’s head and she placed her face in her hand.

“Late night.”

“Yeah, it was. We …”

“I wasn’t asking. I
was saying you had a late night. And, from what I hear, it was all on me.”

“I don’t know
anything about that.”

“Sure you do. You and
your new friends were living it up. I heard all about it. There was drinking
and laughing.
So much laughing.
And I seemed to be the
star of all the jokes. What was it the girls called me? Two-Minute Tommy. That
was it.”

Erica didn’t say
anything.

“That was a funny
one,” Tommy said as he strolled around the apartment examining Brae and Shane’s
few possessions. “Tiny Tommy. Another of my favorites.”
 

Erica looked around
the apartment in search of options. There was the door and a window. That was
it.

“One girl called me
Tommy Salami. I’m not sure what she’s getting at there.”

Erica was in too much
pain to be frightened. “She said you smelled like salami.”

“Is that so? Do you
believe that?”

“It was probably more
the rhyme that made her say it.”

“Hmmm, I see. She
likes rhymes.
Like a little kid.
I guess that’s where
Sweaty Palm Tom came from as well.”

“No, she said your
palms were really sweaty. Like scary sweaty.”

Tommy turned and
glared at her.

“She said she thought
it might be a condition.”

Tommy raised his
voice. “People sweat during sex. They get excited. They sweat. It’s completely
normal!”

Erica shrugged.
“Okay.”

“It’s not okay. You
girls called me a lot of names!” He shouted them out. “Two-pump Tommy. Tommy
Cries for Mommy. Half-man. Stumpy Joe.”

Erica raised a
finger. “In her defense, she was calling someone else Stumpy Joe.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she said you
were smaller than Stumpy Joe.”

Tommy shot her a
sarcastic half smile and continued. “Sir Shrinks-a-Lot. Sir Gal or Lad. Sir
Cialis. Blue Pill McGill.”

Erica shook her head.
“Yeah, I didn’t really get that one.”

“Oh,” Tommy said. “My
last name is McGill.”

“Ah. It makes sense
now.”

“Yeah, that one was
pretty clever.” Tommy smiled. “Tom Thumb. I thought was a good one, too.”

 
“It means your dick is the size of a
thumb, Tommy.”

The smile faded and
the anger returned. “It’s Sir Thomas. Not Tommy, Sir Thomas. If you’re going to
stay here, you’d better get with the program, girl. You will treat me and the
other knights with respect befitting our station.”

His voice hurt her
head. “I’m not sure we’ll be staying.”

A different smile
appeared on his face. There was no kindness in it. “Oh, so you haven’t heard
the great news then?”

“What are you talking
about, To … Sir Thomas?”

“You’re a widow.” The
evil grin broadened and Tommy raised his voice knowing that it would hurt her
head. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

His words moved
slowly through the hangover fog and she didn’t really process them. “What are
you talking about?”

“The call came in
just a little while ago. Your man didn’t rescue the princess. The search party
is dead. So not only are you a widow, you’re not a citizen. But you are here. Which
means
you’ve
got to start earning your keep.” Tommy
undid his weapon belt and set it by the door.

Erica backed away. “I
don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care what
you believe, whore.” Tommy lurched at Erica.

Erica’s reflexes had
not had as much to drink as she did. Her elbow shot forward and caught the man
across the top of his nose.

The blow was enough
to send him staggering backwards and reaching for his face. He pulled his hand
down and looked at the blood on his fingers. That evil smiled returned. “Oh,
I’m going to enjoy this.”

Tommy rushed across
the room and threw his full weight into her. This sent Erica into the wall and
shook the old building. She bounced back into his arms. The knight wrestled her
to the ground, climbed on top of her and pinned her arms above her head.

“What do you think?
Do you think your friends were lying about me?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t care, Tommy.
Please let me go.”

He ignored her pleas.
“Well, why don’t we take a look and see?” Tommy spit his threat down the side
of her face.

Erica winced and
tried to get free, but the knight was too strong.

“It was always going
to end up this way, you know? Your man was never supposed to come back. None of
them were. Now there’s no tough guy here to protect you. No monster of a dog.
It’s just us. Just the helpless damsel and the big bad knight.” Tommy grabbed
both of her wrists in one hand and moved a hand to his pants.

Erica twisted and
squirmed to get free. His grip was fierce. But as he struggled to undue his
pants with a single hand, his palms began to sweat profusely. It had to be a
condition. No one had that many sweat glands in their hands. In a matter of
seconds his palms became slick and Erica tore her hand free.

Tommy’s attention had
turned to the stubborn button on his pants. Now his head snapped up to see he
had lost his hold. His face went pale and confusion grew in his eyes. He
released Erica and rose to his knees.

Erica backed away on
elbows and heels as the knight realized his other hand was stuck to his thigh
with a knife.

Tommy tried to stand
on weak legs. Blood stained his pant leg and the patch grew larger in rhythm
with his heart. He looked at Erica but couldn’t say anything.

 
“Try and remember what he told you about
the hand,” Erica said.

Tommy mustered a deep
breath and pulled the knife from his leg. It was surprising to see how much
blood it was holding in. It ran down his leg and began to pool at his foot. Sir
Thomas Not the Longest screamed and raised the knife to strike.

Erica jumped to her
feet and dove out of the way as he charged.

He was weak from a
loss of blood. He was shaky from the shock of seeing his hand pinned to his
thigh with a knife. He was stupid to begin with. All of this together with his
momentum carried Tommy across the small apartment, through the window and down
to the street below.

Erica, minding the
broken glass, leaned out the window to see if he lived.

The pool of
blood-stained
snow around the man told her more than any
chalk outline would.

A crowd gathered
quickly. They looked up and saw her. They called the knights and pointed to
her.

Her head still hurt
like hell.