Read Judgment Day -03 for Free Online Page B

drink.
    “Good?” he asked, tipping the pouch up to pour the last drops of spaghetti sauce into his mouth.
    Samantha looked down at her pouch. It was still half full.
    “I’m not Italian,” she said, “but I’m pretty sure that spaghetti isn’t supposed to be thin enough to slurp through a straw.”
    Tanner tossed the wrapper out the window and pulled a couple of chocolate bars from his pack.
    “You want one?”
    She nodded, sliding it into her shirt pocket.
    “Even chocolate might not save this meal,” she mumbled as she opened her door. “I’ll be back. I’m going to pee.”
    “Take your rifle.”
    “To pee?”
    “If I had to count the number of times I needed a rifle when peeing—”
    She held up her hands, surrendering.
    “Fine. I’ll take it.”
    As Samantha walked away from the Escalade, Tanner rolled his window down. If she got into trouble, it would be easy enough to hear her call for help. One benefit of civilization dying was that the world had become incredibly quiet.
    He stared out the window at endless miles of cars and trucks, wondering if society would ever get back where it was before the pandemic. It could go either way, he thought. Enough damage had been done that the world could just devolve into chaos. And while he might not want to openly admit it, he was okay with that.
     
     
    Samantha walked slowly up the grassy embankment toward a small thicket of trees and bushes, the spaghetti sloshing around in her stomach like a bathtub filled with warm water. If she missed anything most of all from her previous life, it was the food. What she wouldn’t give for a plate of her mom’s buttermilk fried chicken. Maybe with a cob of corn and a slice of Texas Toast on the side. She licked her lips but tasted only the remnants of the rehydrated spaghetti sauce.
    She reminded herself that there were people all over the world eating far worse things to stay alive, but it only consoled her until the next spaghetti burp. Someday, she thought, I’m going to have that fried chicken again.
    She stepped around a three-foot-high boulder, looking for a place to relieve herself. Before she could zero in on the right spot, a deep rumbling sounded from the interstate below. She instinctively sought cover, ducking behind the large rock. When she peeked over the top, she saw a long line of motorcycles weaving in and out of the stalled traffic, heading south in the northbound lane—directly toward Tanner.
    She started to stand and run for the Escalade but realized that she would never make it in time. With her heart pounding, she squatted back down and slid the rifle off her shoulder.
     
     
    The sound of motorcycle engines vibrated the air like lions warning off would-be predators. Tanner knew what was coming even before spotting the long procession of bikers winding their way through the endless gridlock of cars.
    He leaned out the window and searched for Samantha. She was nowhere in sight. Had she already seen them? Hopefully, she had at least heard them and would exercise a little common sense by staying put until they passed. Unfortunately, Samantha Glass and common sense were words rarely used in the same sentence.
    Tanner opened his door and stepped out of the Escalade. He left the shotgun on the seat, but slid the .44 Magnum into the back of his waistband. Neither weapon would be enough to overcome a gang like the one that approached, but if it came down to it, the pistol might provide a slight deterrence. Sometimes being a hard target was enough. He stepped around to the front of the Escalade and leaned back against the grille, making it impossible for anyone to see the huge pistol pressing against the small of his back.
    The motorcyclists split left and right, approaching him from both sides. There were at least twenty of them, and each one appeared to be armed. They spread out, stopped, and began revving their engines to create a mindless cacophony of angry noise.
    Despite the overtly threatening