The Left Series (Book 5): Left On The Run by Christian Fletcher Page B

mouth and engaged the talk button. “This is a message for Clarkie…can you hear me, Clarkie?…I know you’re probably listening. You there, Clarkie, you son of a bitch?” Smith released the talk button and held the radio for a few seconds.
    A voice, full of rage and emotion suddenly squawked a reply through the radio mic. “See you, ya bastard! I’m coming for you all. Ya killed eight of my men and crippled some more. I’m not gonna just shoot you, no…I’m gonna torture you very slowly. I’m coming after youse…” The words were hardly audible through the mic due to the loud intensity of the guy’s rant.
    Blue Jacket and Woolen Hat lowered their handguns and nodded at their companions to do the same. I breathed out a sigh of relief when I saw the gang of young men lower their respective weapons.
    “Satisfied?” Smith said.
    “You seriously killed eight of those worthless shites?” Blue Jacket asked. The menace had slightly evaporated from his tone.
    Smith ducked his head. “It would have been a whole lot more if they’d sent more guys after us.”
    “We’ve had a few run-ins with those dickheads ourselves,” Woolen Hat said. “They’ve got themselves some brand new shooters and equipment from somewhere. Semi automatics and stun guns, I reckon they must have robbed an armory somewhere.”
    “Well, this radio is the kind of thing the cops use and they’ve got some Heckler and Koch MP5’s along with some other cop gear. I figure they’ve raided a police station recently and got themselves some serious firepower,” Smith said. 
    “Ask them if we can get to the bridge, Smith,” Wingate whispered through clenched teeth. “We’re running out of time here.”
    Smith’s gaze briefly flicked to Wingate.
    “So, guys, can we pass through your turf on good terms? We really need to get to that hospital.”
    Blue Jacket and Woolen Hat glanced at each other for a moment then nodded.
    “Aye, but we’ll need to open up the gates for you,” Blue Jacket said. “The bridge is locked halfway down to stop the Deads coming out of the city and over the water.”
    “We’ll let youse through if you hand over that police radio so we can talk to Clarkie and one of those semi automatic rifles ya got in the back.” The steely eyed guy with the cricket bat spoke for the first time in our presence. “Otherwise you’ll have to turn around and fuck off.”
    Blue Jacket and Woolen Hat shuffled around on the spot, glancing to the ground and obviously a little put out at being undermined but they didn’t protest.
    “Just give them what they want,” Wingate groaned. “We need to get going.”
    “Okay, it’s a deal,” Smith sighed. He tossed the radio from the car and Blue Jacket caught it one handed. Then Smith twisted in his seat, reached into the back foot well and picked up one of the M-16 rifles. He poked the barrel through the window and raised the rifle so it pointed skyward.
    “I can only spare the mag and ammo it comes with,” Smith said. “We got a real limited supply now and we’re going to need all the firepower we can muster to get to the hospital. Unless you guys want to tag along and help us clear the route?”
    “No way,” Woolen Hat scorned, tentatively moving towards the car door to take the rifle. “You’ll nae get to the hospital anyways.” He shook his head, retreating a couple of steps. “Youse’ll be lucky to get to the other side of the river, by the way, pal. The city is crawling with Deads.”
    Even this tough bunch of street-wise Glaswegian bandits seemed taken aback that we were heading into the city. Their expressions of utter disparagement didn’t fill me with a whole load of confidence.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Sixteen
     
    Woolen Hat and Blue Jacket hopped onto the side runners at the foot of the two front doors and waved the others in the gang out of the path of the Range Rover. Smith slowly accelerated and rolled the