Age of Monsters John Schneider (digital book reader TXT) 📖

all three with rifles – one of them looked like an AR.

The giants had been gone for days, Rosa thought belatedly – there hadn't been any looting in the city because no one was left alive.

These weren't city folk – at a glance, not much above transients – bumpkins living in the hills, come down into town to see what was salvageable.

Rosa and Julie both raised their hands.

“No need for guns,” Rosa said.  “We're no threat.”

The man who had spoken nodded mildly.  “Hear that, boys?  They're no threat.”

The other two men laughed.  None of them lowered their guns.

Rosa could now safely assume their intentions.

The first man was looking Rosa up and down.  “You didn't survive all this by yourself,” he said.  “You've got people with you.”  He held up the barrel of his rifle.  “Where are they?”

Rosa said nothing.

The man smiled grimly.  Then he turned his rifle and pressed it against Julie's head.

“One more time,” he said, looking at Rosa meaningfully.

“Aw c'mon, Leroy,” one of the others said.  “She's hot.  Don't waste her.  Just shoot her in the leg or something.”

Julie's breath had stopped, her eyes turned wide and frightened to Rosa.

“Don't,” Rosa said, holding her hands up.  “Please.  Don't hurt her.  There's just six of us.  We've been trapped.”

'Leroy' pushed Julie over next to Rosa and held his gun on them both.

“Where?” he said.

“Just around the corner.”

Leroy nodded.  “Then lead the way, ladies.  Don't do anything stupid.”

“Why are you doing this?” Rosa said, her voice rising in outrage.  “For God's sake!  Can't we just help each other?”

Leroy paused, considering.  Then he reached out a beefy mitt and backhanded Rosa across the face.

The blow was nearly powerful enough to knock her out.  She staggered into Julie's steadying hands.  She felt her cheek, where a large, swelling knot had joined her already assorted bruises.

Leroy was staring at them both seriously.  He held up his rifle.

Rosa knew the type.  Some people bought guns for defense – some for hunting.  Some because they wanted to kill somebody.

It was more common than you might think – not the psycho-serial-killer – more the alpha-wannabe – the guy who secretly hopes for the burglar to break in.

“Move,” he said.

The pile of rubble that had been the hospital was still shifting, so Rosa and Julie led them around on the street.  Thus they came upon their little group from behind, still huddled by the stairwell.

Jeremy was the first to look over his shoulder and see them.

“Oh, what the hell?”

Bud was on his feet in a moment, but Leroy and the other two men quickly fanned out to either side, their rifles already up and aimed.

“Stay right where you are, folks.”

Bud didn't move, standing in front of Allison – Lucas' caveman psychology working as if programmed.

One of the other men was giving Jamie an approving once-over, and Jeremy immediately stepped between them – only to be met with a rifle butt across the face, knocking him to the ground.

When Jeremy looked up, Leroy had his gun on him.

“You're gonna be trouble, aren't ya, boy?  Just can't wait to be a hero, can ya?”

He brought the barrel up to Jeremy's head.

Rosa stepped forward quickly, but Leroy's rifle quickly turned on her instead.

She stopped, looking up into his eyes, trying to see if he would really do it.

Before she could decide, a shot rang in her ears.

Rosa blinked – she'd actually felt the displacement of the bullet past her ear.

Leroy dropped to his knees, holding his shoulder, his rifle clattering on the pavement.

Lucas was standing atop the ridge of concrete, pistol out and aimed.

The other two men, both with high-caliber weapons, looked indecisive.

Lucas was smiling.  “Hey fellas.  You may have noticed I shot your buddy in the shoulder.  They say never to do that.  There's no point – it can kill you anyway – so they tell you just to aim for center of mass and be done with it.”  He shook his head.  “Damn me and my insubordination.”

He cocked back the hammer on his pistol.

“So,” he said, “you fellas wanna be refugees, or casualties?”

While they were thinking it over, Allison took the opportunity to draw her own pistol – empty of bullets – stepping up behind the second man, and cocking the hammer right behind his ear.

The two men exchanged glances and raised their hands.

Lucas nodded approvingly.  “Very good,” he said, ambling leisurely down the embankment.  “Jeremy?  Would you and Mr. Adams be so kind as to relieve these gentlemen of their firearms?”

Bud and Jeremy, pulled the rifles off the two men's shoulders and then patted them down, coming away with assorted pistols and clips.

One was a 9 mm – which Bud handed to Allison, who tossed her old empty pistol aside.

Jeremy hefted one of the rifles – a 30.06.

“There you go,” Lucas said as he walked up, his pistol held casually at his side, yet never straying from any of the three men.  “Now you've got yourself a real gun.”

Jeremy pulled the bolt back experimentally – then leveled the rifle at the man who'd just handed it to him – the one who had butted him with it across the face.

It was Bud who casually turned the barrel away, patting Jeremy on the shoulder.

“That's it,” Lucas said, his easy smile never changing.  “We're all friends, now, right?”

Now he turned to Rosa.

“You know, Doctor Holland,” he said, “I asked you to stay put.”  He shook his head.  “I swear, I know you're a smart girl – but at this point, it's faith that lets me know that.”

Rosa started to object, but Lucas held up a placating hand.

“I get it,” he said.  “You've got a stubborn streak.”  He took a deep