Deadland's Harvest



Clutch practically dragged me through the store. I recognized a couple of the bodies lying motionless on the floor, but, thankfully, nearly all of the Fox survivors were nowhere in sight. I had to believe they’d made it out okay. No one was shooting at us. The fight seemed to have moved back outside, but rounds were still going off everywhere around us. When we reached the hallway under the Exit sign, Clutch took the lead.

We ran past a room where Mary’s body lay crumpled next to a desk, her lifeless eyes staring at us. Not far from her, I saw our weapons in a big pile. The bandits must’ve dumped them there when they were in a hurry to prepare for the New Eden guys. I stopped and pulled Clutch back. “Wait. We’ll need these.”

He stopped but didn’t let go until he noticed the weapons. We rushed into the room, and I picked through the pile to find my rifle and knife. I couldn’t find my pistol, so I just started pulling out anything that looked like something I could use. The entire time I focused completely on the weapons and refused to look anywhere even close in the direction of Mary’s broken body.

Clutch did the same. I noticed he kept his eyes focused on the weapons, looking at each one. We each took the best machetes, knives, spears, and sidearms. Clutch even grabbed an extra rifle, but I took only mine to keep the weight down. The last thing he picked up before he came to his feet was Tyler’s sword, still in its sheath.

“He would’ve wanted you to have it,” I said between slinging what I could over my shoulder and fastening everything else in my weapons belt.

His brows rose but he quickly regained his composure. “Let’s go.”

We hurried toward the exit. Clutch threw the steel doors open, and we found three soldiers aiming their rifles at us.

“Whoa!” Clutch yelled, holding his rifle up. “We’re not bandits!”


They didn’t lower their weapons, but one soldier nodded in my direction. “They don’t look like bandits.”

“Where are you from?” another soldier asked. “And you’d better answer quick.”

“I’m with Camp Fox,” Clutch replied. “Sergeant Joe Seibert with the 75th Ranger Regiment.”

His answer seemed to suffice because the soldier motioned toward the parking lot. “There’s a HEMTT by the road. You can join the rest of your group on it. You’d better hurry.”

We ran around the corner of the building and the HEMTT came into view. It was surrounded protectively by Humvees. A soldier I didn’t recognize was lifting five-year-old Alana into the back.

Our biggest challenge was getting to the HEMTT. The bandits had taken our keys and now had our vehicles, making the battle closely matched. Every few seconds, a bandit ran out from behind one of our Humvees and lobbed a grenade at the New Eden vehicles as another bandit drove slowly, using the Humvee as a shield.

Rounds went through the Humvee’s window, blood splattered, and the Humvee sped forward until it ran straight into one of New Eden’s Humvees. Red and violet flames burst from the ensuing explosion.

“Wait. Look!” I pointed to a bandit trying to reload the .30 cal on our Humvee.

“Son of a bitch.” Clutch took off as quickly as he could run toward the Humvee. He lifted his rifle and shot the bandit in the back. Clutch handed me his rifle and we both climbed up onto the back of the Humvee. He manned the .30, turning it from the New Eden trucks to the bandits in the Camp Fox vehicles. Three bandits stood on the back of Camp Fox’s HEMTT. One had a rocket launcher while the other two had rifles, laying down cover fire. Clutch and a soldier from New Eden zeroed in on the risk at the same moment. Two bandits fell with shots from different directions, but the bandit with the launcher fired before he fell.

Rachel Aukes's books