Maybe I could take out the archers and then try and run? Then at least I wouldn’t need to worry about getting shot in the back…
Talk to me, Hunter, Karla demanded. You’re being awfully quiet.
“What’s a good way to take out a bunch of enemies all at once?” I asked bluntly.
Something large, usually something that’s beyond the scope of a simple trap, she pondered aloud. Something like an explosion or a rock slide or running them over with a semi or something similar.
I’d seen a few vehicles on my journey, but I highly doubted any of them still ran. So, smashing the mutants with a semi was pretty much out of the question.
Then it hit me. I was literally standing in a city of rubble.
“Crazy question,” I prefaced, “but could I bring a building down on them?”
In theory, yes, Karla noted. But that would take a lot of firepower, which you don’t have.
“Wait!” I gasped. “Fire. That’s it!”
As I began to climb down the fire escape, it all became clear.
I couldn’t run these guys over or blow them up or even bury them under a pile of rubble.
But I could set them on fire.
Sounds like you have a plan? Karla mused.
“I do,” I chuckled as I planted my feet down on the ground and made my way toward the other side of the alleyway.
I entered the office building once more, went over to one of the desks, and yanked out the largest drawer. Then I headed back outside, went to the end of the alley, and looked around for mutants.
The coast seemed to be clear.
Then, just across the road, I saw the broken facade of an establishment named Pippin’s Pub.
A bar. That would do perfectly.
I rushed over to it, shoved open the door, and then stumbled inside the darkened building.
A few beams of sunlight trickled in through the windows, and all sorts of dust and tiny debris floated through its rays. Many of the tables and chairs had been completely destroyed by fallen brick and steel, and the bar on the far side of the building looked like it was rotting away by the second. The wall behind the bar, where the alcohol was normally stored, had been completely smashed.
However, I could see there were still a few bottles cluttered around the floor.
I walked over and began to inspect the debris. Much to my surprise, there were several bottles of alcohol that still contained the glorious nectar.
I wouldn’t have drank it on a dare, but it would do more than fine as a catalyst for a fire.
One by one, I started to pop off the lids on the bottles and pour it into the desk drawer. I didn’t discriminate, either, as long as it was over a hundred-twenty proof. Whiskey, tequila, vodka… It all went into the drawer to form a dark, deadly cocktail.
Once I had enough for my plan to work, I walked back across the street to the alleyway, dumped the alcohol on the ground, and watched as it spread out across the asphalt like the wave of a tsunami.
Next, I removed the walkie talkie from my belt, turned the volume all the way up, and then placed it smack-dab in the center of the backstreet.
Finally, I climbed back up the fire escape, sat down on my knees, and waited.
Are you sure this is going to work? Karla implored.
“Nope,” I chuckled. “But it beats trying to outrun these guys. My legs will thank me later.”
I just hope they’ll show before nightfall, the voice sighed. If you’re still out there—
“Yeah, yeah.” I shrugged. “My chances of survival go down a lot. That’s why I’m just gonna hope this plan works.”
I sat there for a few more minutes, and then I heard the sound of the walkie talkie down below. The voice on the other end echoed like a clap of thunder, and I was sure anyone within a half a mile could hear it going off.
Then I heard a gargled cry from just a few blocks away.
Showtime.
Not five minutes later, I saw the patrol of mutants dashing toward my position.
The one at the front of the pack had his own walkie talkie, and he was speaking into it as he ran. His voice echoed through the alley from my end like a beacon of sound guiding the mutant squad back to it.
When they finally reached the alleyway, the first mutant made a mad dash toward the device.
However, he found my trip wire first.
There was a quick “thwip,” and then the rebar-filled board swung down like a trap door being released. The jagged metal struck the mutant directly in the chest and punctured all the way through his body.
He fell down onto the ground and floundered in pain as blood pooled all around his body.
The rest of the team suddenly went on high alert as they held their weapons at the ready. The archers began to look upward, and I had to duck down to avoid being seen.
Beside me was an old beer bottle I’d found in the garbage, filled with alcohol. I’d ripped off a piece of my shirt and stuck it inside as a makeshift wick.
Come on… Come just a little closer…
Finally, the remaining five mutants were fully inside the alley.
I picked up a chunk of concrete in one hand and the steel knife I’d snagged from the mutant in the other.
This was probably the most inconvenient way I’d ever tried to start a fire, but it was all I had. Usually, you needed pure flint or quartzite to make this work, but the rocky material in my hand was the closest I could find. So, I took a deep breath and then quickly struck the knife against the stone.
A small spark flew from the impact, but it didn’t ignite.
Even worse, it made a way louder sound than I’d thought it was going to.
“Iktuna?” I heard one of the mutants growl three stories below me.
Shit.
I struck it again, and nothing.
Now, I dared to look over the side of the roof. Down in the alley, the mutants were well aware of my presence, and two of them were headed for the fire escape with looks of pure rage plastered on their faces.
Double shit.
I rock and steel together again, but the Molotov cocktail didn’t light.
Come on, you bitch.
I slammed the two objects together, and this time it created a spark. The tiny speckle of a flame hit the fabric of the t-shirt, glowed, and then began to spread.
Hallelujah.
I picked up the bottle, stood to my feet, and looked down at the mutants in the alley below.
They looked over at me and snarled, and then the archers raised their weapons.
Too bad they were too late.
I dropped the Molotov cocktail over the side of the building and watched as the mutants realized what was about to happen.
They tried to run away, but within seconds, the bottle smashed against the alcohol-covered ground and lit it up like a Christmas tree. The mutants screamed in pain as the flames rose up the sides of the building and completely engulfed them in its deadly embrace, and they continued to scream as they ran out into the streets, where they tried in vain to put themselves out.
Within seconds, they were all dead.
“Yes!” I fist-pumped into the air.
I assume that means it worked? Karla asked.
Suddenly, I heard the building groan beneath my feet, and I peered over the ledge. The flames were roaring and intense, and they were now rising up the side of the building.
“Welp,” I sighed, “I probably should have seen that coming.”
I ran over to the main roof entrance, flung it open, and then dashed down the stairs. Many of them were crumbling away and broken, but I had to keep pushing forward as quickly as I could. I hopped over a few gaps in the stairs and then followed them until I reached the first floor.