"The Scout" - Chapter 2

The Scout

Chapter 2

By Dwayne MacInnes

Two months before, the U.S. was surprised to hear a message from St Paul, Minnesota. The atmospherics were just right for the message to make its way west. After the Big Bang, the upper atmosphere had dramatically changed. Super windstorms ripped through the air. The raging winds tore planes that flew too high to shreds. Rock storms occurred after the winds ripped stones and boulders off mountain peaks and tossed them to the earth below.

The message was short but it indicated that St Paul was alive and was looking for fellow survivors. The U.S. government desperately needed a secure spot in the Midwest to secure a northern trade route to the eastern seaboard. Scott's job was to secure that route.

Abandoned and wrecked vehicles choked Interstate 94 just before Scott reached Minneapolis. The short radio conversation the new government had with St Paul warned of the various gangs and warlords who now ruled the city west of the Mississippi. Scott had no choice but to turn off and make his way through the unfriendly territory. Years of being a scout trained Scott to be extra cautious in cities. Wasters on the open highway were a lot easier to deal with than combating hostiles in a labyrinthine city. Old maps were of little use as the gangs would have changed the landscape significantly to lure the unsuspecting into a trap.

Scott was not new to this, but he still had very little knowledge of the current layout of Minneapolis. What roads were unblocked? Which one led to St Paul? The map on his monitor was at least twelve years out of date.

The black ‘70 Dodge Charger slowly wound its way through the wreckage and debris of Minneapolis in the morning twilight. Although, the missiles had overlooked it, the plague had done some of its own work here. That fateful day over twelve years ago released the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse upon the Earth. No country no matter how remote was unscathed. If the nukes did not get you, the biological and chemical weapons did

The warring gangs had left Minneapolis a burned-out and shattered city. The ravaged IDS building resembled a mangled and blackened skeletal hand clawing its way up towards the heavens like a drowning person desperately reaching for help. It was as good a representation of the dead city as any monument could ever be.

Scott was surprised that he had made his way onto University Avenue inside Dinky Town without encountering any of the gangs reputed to dwell inside this debris-filled metropolis. The trek here had taken the scout past the destroyed buildings of the University of Minnesota and he spied the burned out husk of the Metrodome in the distance.

Suddenly fire spread across the windshield. Someone had tossed a Molotov cocktail onto the hood of the Charger. Scott instinctively hit the switch for the camera mounted under the hood. The black and white image on the monitor was not that easy to navigate with, but it was a lot better than trying to see through flames.

Nonetheless, Scott put his foot down on the accelerator. The old car rapidly picked up speed. The flames flew backwards over the windshield with its flammable liquid trailing behind. Next, a heavy foam shot onto the bulletproof glass as Scott flipped another switch, dousing the flames. The wipers made easy work cleaning the rest of the mess off the windshield.

A flip of yet another switch returned the view from the trunk-mounted camera onto the monitor. A small red Toyota truck with a half-dozen gang members was trying to catch up with the Charger. Scott smiled, now the cat was out of the bag. Bullets fired from small personal arms dinged off the rear armor inflicting no more damage than some scratched paint.

Scott scanned the road ahead looking for anything that might help him turn the tables on his pursuers. Then he spied the old pitted parking lot outside a burned out Baker's Square. Scott hopped the Charger over the sidewalk and onto the lot, he drove the car past the burned out restaurant and back onto a side road. Without losing speed, Scott pulled the car back onto University, but this time he was heading back towards Minneapolis and the beat-up red Toyota truck.

The driver of the truck was clearly surprised to see the Charger now coming towards him. His fellow gang members opened up with everything they had as the muscle car approached them in a high-speed version of "Chicken".

Scott was not interested in playing games with these guys. He did not hesitate to open up with his valuable .50 machine guns. The solid rounds punched through the red truck like a sharp pencil puncturing a sheet of paper. The truck swaggered and black smoke poured out from under the hood. Many of the gang members dropped down inside the truck bed to escape the putrid and oily smoke.

Scott swerved his car onto the sidewalk on his right as he shot past the speeding and nearly out of control truck. As the red vehicle sped past, Scott wrenched the steering wheel hard to his left as he hit the breaks. The Charger's tires squealed in protest as he swung the car behind the truck.

The surprised gang members in the truck bed started to pound on the rear window of the Toyota's cab. The driver, who had remarkably survived the onslaught of .50 bullets, took a quick glance back to see Scott hot on his tail. He tried to make the truck accelerate, but he engine was all but dead. Only more black smoke belched out from under the hood. He then tried to swerve the truck out of way of the Charger's guns.

More deadly projectiles spat out of the .50 guns as Scott depressed the thumb button on his steering wheel. Only a short burst was need to chew up the truck. The speeding wreckage soon lost all control and flew off the road and into a building on its right. Flames shot into the sky as the truck impacted into the side of the old brick building.