Pursuit of the Apocalypse by Benjamin Wallace Page B

somewhere, too.”
    “I have no warrant for you so you have nothing to fear from me.”
    “Yeah, I wasn’t worried about that. But, you see, we know that not everyone who’s running is necessarily guilty.”
    Jillian stepped back over to her rifle and picked it up. She leveled it at the man and stared.
    “I can assure you, this woman is guilty. And I assure you I am who I say I am.”
    Mike snorted. “Your word’s not good enough, pal.”
    “Then I’ll show you my badge.” Mr. Christopher reached into his jacket.
    Erica screamed again for them to shoot.
    Six shots were fired.
    Jillian hit the ground first. The rifle bounced out of Erica’s reach.
    Mike fell next and the other man hit the ground a second later.
    Mr. Christopher held his gun on each of them to make sure they weren’t getting up. Satisfied, he held his free hand out to Erica. She refused to take it so he grabbed her under the arm and dragged her to her feet.
    “They seemed like such nice people, too,” Mr. Christopher said. “So willing to help. You just don’t see that much anymore. The world could use more good people like that. It’s a shame you got them killed.”
    Erica held back a sob and forced her lip into a sneer. “At least they put a hole in that ugly suit of yours.”
    The bounty hunter hadn’t seen it. Perhaps he hadn’t even felt it, but now he looked down at the bullet hole in his jacket and the blood seeping out of the wound.
    “Just perfect,” he said. “Now we’ll have to make another stop.” He shoved her forward and led her back to the Jeep.
    SEVEN
    They called him Hawk, and he was an outlaw.
    For as long as he could remember the law had always been against him. Even as a lawyer, he was always on the defense. But he had always fought with the ferociousness of a falcon and had an eagle eye for details that others often missed, so he adopted the professional name of Hawk and practiced law like a vicious bird of prey with Talons of Justice, Feathers of Freedom, and Bill of Surprising Amounts.
    He had always skirted the law, flitting around its edges to ensure that his clients found justice and the freedom to cover his fee. He danced on the edge of contempt more than once, and that’s not even counting the time he appeared in court drunk and tried to make a pass at the judge.
    In his defense, she was hot. She’d had a refined look, wore a black dress, and there was a touch of Judge Judy in her voice that he was surprised to find alluring.
    He had bent the law, strained the law, and annoyed it a great deal. But he had never broken the law until the Crappening.
    Overnight, even decent people turned to their baser instincts to survive. Everywhere he looked he saw looters, murderers, robbers, the worst humanity had to offer and many other potential clients. He hit the streets with a box of business cards and a pitch that blamed their strife on a system that had failed them and their families, and their pets if they happened to have pets.
    But then the system failed him as well. Approaching what he could only identify as a “gang” to offer a lenient jury and a big potential harassment settlement should they be caught, he soon found himself surrounded by the less than appreciative group. He panicked and drew his concealed carry. Moments later two of the men were dead and the others had run off. In a court of law he would swear that he was in danger and that the men meant to do him harm. But, the truth was they might have just been looking for food. Or directions. He couldn’t be sure; the one guy kind of mumbled.
    So Hawk ran.
    He couldn’t report the incident or turn himself in to authorities. There were no longer authorities. He had become what he had always despised. He had become a criminal. He had become an outlaw. And, worse, he liked it.
    Behind his degree, he had always been a force to be reckoned with. But, behind a barrel, he was unstoppable. He made arguments that no one would counter and all objections were