by Bowman, Dave
"Get off at the second floor," Jack said, keeping his voice low. He followed Brent through the door.
"Now what?" Brent asked, panting, as they stood on the next level, looking around.
"Shh," Jack whispered.
They listened as the sound of footsteps grew louder on the first floor. The guards were entering the garage.
Jack motioned Brent toward the row of cars before them. Moving lightly between the vehicles, the two men stationed themselves out of sight behind a large truck.
Jack drew his Glock from the holster, setting his rifle down silently on the floor. He needed to reload the rifle, but he didn't want to make a noise. The guards were running up the stairs now.
The stairwell door to the second floor flew open. Footsteps echoed through the dim garage. Another guard continued running up the stairs and emerged on the third floor. Jack heard him running on the ground overhead. Meanwhile, the guard on the second floor was getting closer.
Finally, Jack saw him. The man was moving slowly through the middle of the space, looking between each vehicle in both rows to the left and right.
The man was just three vehicles away now.
Jack raised the gun and waited for him to get closer.
The man took a few more steps forward, looking to the left and away from Jack and Brent.
It was Jack's only chance.
He pulled on the trigger. The man made an unexpected move to the left, and Jack missed.
The guy cursed. He ducked behind a vehicle and started firing in Jack's direction.
Damn!
Jack dodged his fire, adjusting his position behind the truck. He aimed again, waiting for the man to expose himself as he fired.
When the guy took aim again, Jack fired. This time, the guy was still, and Jack hit him.
He fell to the ground, gasping for breath. Jack saw his arm fall to the side with his pistol clanging to the ground.
Nearby, Brent blew out a jagged breath.
Jack brought his hand up, silently telling Brent to keep quiet.
Overhead, the guard was silent. Jack waited for his response, wondering what the guy was up to. The guard was waiting as well, considering his next move.
Jack stood up and silently began to make his way to the fallen guard nearby. He picked up the man's gun and motioned for Brent to follow him to the other end of the parking garage. They crouched behind a minivan several yards from the scene of the shootout. Once in their new hiding place, they waited.
Upstairs, a truck engine started.
Brent looked at Jack with surprise. Jack got ready, waiting for the truck to appear.
The truck took off, peeling out overhead. It raced down the aisle of the third floor, then turned and began descending the ramp to the second floor. The driver took the next turn quickly and drove past the dead man lying on the floor.
The man steered the truck slightly to the left. He was heading straight for Jack and Brent. Somehow, he knew where they were hiding.
Jack opened fire on the driver. The shatterproof windshield cracked, but the bullets did not penetrate the glass. The truck kept charging ahead.
"Get out of here!" Jack shouted to Brent at his side. Brent, who had been watching the truck’s advance in shock, finally came to his senses and crawled to the side.
Jack continued firing a second longer. When the truck was nearly upon him, he rolled to the side.
Unable to stop in time, the truck slammed into the wall. Jack watched the vehicle's front end crumple into the wall, destroying the engine. It was obvious that the truck wouldn't run again.
A sharp piece of metal splintered from the vehicle and sliced into Jack's lower leg as he rolled.
Jack came to a stop on his side, then raised his Glock once more, training his weapon on the driver. The engine smoked and hissed, blocking Jack's view of the cabin.
At last, the door slowly opened, and the driver emerged. He held a pistol in his hand and weakly tried to lift it.
Before the man could fire, Jack shot him twice in the chest. The man collapsed on the floor, his body slamming down just inches away from Jack.
Jack glanced at Brent, who was watching the scene from several feet away. The two men wordlessly pushed themselves to their feet and ran toward the stairwell.
In the stairwell, Jack struggled to make his injured leg work. Brent ran ahead, taking the steps two at a time to the third, and uppermost, floor.
"No," Brent said from the doorway to the third floor as he looked at at the top level. "There's nothing else up here. They must’ve had just that one truck stored on this level."
Gritting his teeth, Jack began the race down the stairs to the ground level.
"Wait," Brent said. "Shouldn't we see if any of the cars run on the second floor?"
"No," Jack said. "I already looked at them all. They're all too new to run. First floor as well. They just kept that one running vehicle on the top floor."
Brent followed Jack to the ground level. Jack entered the garage and turned to the right – away from the front entrance.
"Wrong way!" Brent said.
Jack kept going forward. "We're jumping out this back window."
Brent watched as Jack ran with a limp toward the big opening at the rear of the garage.
Jack gave a quick look outside the garage, then began to pull himself up and over the open window. He hit the ground with a jolt on his injured leg. Brent pulled himself over as well and jumped to the ground.
They ran along a row of junipers toward the apartment building a few yards from the parking garage. Jack looked over his shoulder. So far, no one was behind them.
Jack crossed to the east side of the building, and began to check the exterior doors of each apartment. Each of them was locked. He growled in frustration.
As Brent ran upstairs to search the second level’s doors, Jack knew their time was running out. It wouldn’t be long before more guards appeared and opened fire. Sooner or later, his luck was going to run out.
“This one’s open,” Brent said, leaning over the balcony and keeping his voice low.
Jack ran up the steps and followed Brent inside the apartment. The first order of business was checking every room of the apartment. Jack checked the two bedrooms while Brent looked through the kitchen and living room. Jack emerged from the bathroom after making sure it was clear, and raised his eyebrows at Brent in a question.
“All clear out here,” Brent said as he turned to look out the front window. “And so far, I don’t see anyone out there coming for us.” He bolted the front door and followed Jack to the rear bedroom.
The men peered through the window and watched as a small group of male and female guards ran down the street behind the apartment building and toward the abandoned lot where Brent had worked. Jack reloaded his Glock, keeping an eye on the people below. He didn’t know where they were headed or if they had seen him and Brent run inside the apartment.
“That was crazy back there!” Brent said. “You just started picking off guys out there at the work site. And how did you know where to find me? And – how did you get out of C Block?”
Brent looked at Jack, eager for answers. Jack finally glanced at him.
“I’ll tell you later.”
Brent sighed and looked out the window.
Jack inspected the rifle Brent had lifted from his guard. Jack didn’t have any more ammo for the weapon, and it was low. Jack set the rifle down and watched as the group dispersed at the end of the block. Several went to check on the fallen men in the work site. A few turned toward the parking garage.
“We may not have much time,” Jack said. “But we can’t make a run for it now. They’re too close. They’d see us running out of here. We’ll have to wait.”
“Wait for what?” Brent asked, staring out at the people moving over the abandoned lot. “For them to find us?”
“Or for them to move past us,” Jack said.
“Are we going to go get Naomi?” Brent asked.
> “Of course.”
Brent sighed, relieved. He watched as Jack removed the rifle he carried over his left shoulder and held it in front of him.
“I know you’ve had next to zero training with guns,” Jack said. “But I have no choice but to let you use this. I need some backup.”
Brent nodded and reached for the rifle.
“Not just yet,” Jack said. “Keep it pointed away from non-targets. Remember, never point it at anything you’re not prepared to kill. Always be sure of your target and what’s behind it.”
Jack handed it to him carefully. “And keep your finger off the trigger and outside the guard until you’re ready to shoot. These things are powerful, so brace yourself when you shoot it.”
Jack showed him how to hold the rifle and position his body for maximum stability and accuracy. Brent paid close attention and did as he was instructed.
Jack sighed as Brent held the rifle, feeling his way into a good stance while aiming the gun out the window. “You really need more target practice than what we did the other day.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Brent quipped, studying the area outside.
Jack crossed through the rooms to look out the front window.
“I don’t see them out here,” Jack said. “They’re probably searching the parking garage right now.”
Brent returned to stand by Jack’s side. “You sure we shouldn’t make a run for it now?”
“Not yet,” Jack said. “They’re really close out there. And besides, I need some information from you.”
“Like what?”
“I need to know everything you know about the layout of this place,” Jack said, never taking his eyes away from the window.
Brent shrugged. “I don’t know much. I just know the interstate is that way, to the north. They took us all down to their headquarters that day, and from there they took me farther from the interstate and over this way, to the right.”
Jack nodded. “Right, we’re about five blocks west of the headquarters and six or seven south of the interstate. Where do they have you sleeping?”
“In this big dorm building for the college students.”
“Where’s the college campus?”
“The dorm is about five to eight blocks that way,” Brent said, pointing.
“Southwest,” Jack supplied.
“Right. And the main campus buildings are farther south from the dorms, I guess. They haven’t taken us that way.”
“And what’s between here and there?” Jack asked.
Brent shrugged. “A lot of little shops. Restaurants, bookstores, coffee shops. Some apartment buildings like this one.”
“Did you see where they took Naomi?”
Brent shook his head. “No. They split us all up that day as soon as they took us out of the headquarters. All I could see was that they were taking Naomi straight south. And they took you and me off to the west and east.”
Jack nodded. “And they could have taken her off in some other direction after that first block, too. They intentionally did it that way so we wouldn’t know where the others were.”
“Yeah. They’re pretty slick that way.”
“What about the cars they steal? Do you know where they keep them?”
Brent shook his head again. “No, not really. I haven’t seen the Pathfinder since they stole it from us the other day. Sometimes I see them driving other cars and trucks through the streets, usually hauling stuff around. But I don’t know where they keep them.”
Jack sighed. “No idea?”
Brent thought about it a bit more. “Not for sure, no. But if I had to guess, I’d place my bets on Naomi being to the southeast of here, and the cars being at some point south of that.”
“Except for a stray vehicle they have tucked away here and there,” Jack added. “Like the truck at the top of that garage.”
“That’s now crashed to pieces on the second floor,” Brent said sadly. “I wish we could have gotten that truck!”
Jack didn’t answer, but he brought his finger to his lips, then pointed out the window toward the garage. Voices from the garage made their way to the window where Jack and Brent waited.
The two men lowered themselves further at the window to keep from being spotted.
“Are you ready?” Jack asked.
“For what?” Brent asked under his breath.
“For anything,” Jack mumbled.
Brent didn’t answer. He could only stare, transfixed, as a guard ran from the parking garage toward the apartment building where they now waited.
19
Brody moved through the woods quickly. It wasn’t dark yet on the road, but here in the woods the light was already gone. He wanted to cover as much ground as possible before he flicked the flashlight on.
Batteries, along with everything else, were in short supply.
He occasionally tied little bits of cloth, torn from a rag, to the branches. Not only to find his way back to the road, but also to mark the area he had searched. He has hoping to find his dad tonight, but in case he didn’t, he didn’t want to waste time searching the same area tomorrow.
His sudden improvement in health was remarkable. He had woken up that day feeling a bit better, and had improved each hour of the day. Now he felt like he’d never been sick. He didn’t know what to think about it. Could he really have gotten over the radiation sickness? He was afraid of what the answer might be, so he had tried not to think about, instead choosing to busy himself with productive tasks.
Still, though, he couldn’t help feeling hopeful. Less than twenty-four hours before, he had been resigned to die. He had been torturing himself with guilt over going outside that day and getting exposed to the nuclear fallout. What would Katie do without him? She had already lost one parent. Fifteen, almost sixteen, was too young to lose both one’s parents.
And Katie might never forgive him – or worse, she might never forgive herself for her anger at her father for leaving her too soon. When she got older and could look back, she would realize that her anger had been misplaced. Brody didn’t want his Katie’s last memories of her father be tainted with mixed-up, toxic emotions.
Brody sighed as he moved through the thick underbrush. He had already searched on the other side of the road. He was beginning to lose hope.
In the area immediately surrounding his father's truck, there had been no sign of a struggle. The forest had looked undisturbed. And anyway, it didn't really make sense that his father would have left the safety of his vehicle and gone off in the woods if he were injured.
Brody flicked on the flashlight and turned around, heading again toward the road.
He made his way out to the road and began to pedal his bike back home. He would have to tell his mother and Katie the truth.
He believed his father had been abducted.
20
Jack and Brent watched a guard run toward the apartment complex. Just before he got to Building B, where Jack and Brent hid, the guard turned to the left and veered toward Building A.
“Now’s our chance,” Jack said. “While he’s busy with the other building, we’ll run out of here toward the south.”
Only one guard had been sent to check the apartment complex. It was a lucky break for Jack, who had been counting on several men scouring the buildings and rooting out their hiding place. As long as they were quick and didn’t make too much noise, he hoped they could escape undetected.
He quietly opened the door. Carrying the rifle, Brent followed him through the entrance, and they darted across the outdoor balcony that ran along the building’s facade. At the end, they ran down the steps. Jack heard the doors in the building nearby being opened and shut as the guard made his way through the apartment units.
Brent followed Jack past two more buildings, then they came to a fence. Behind them, the guard was making his way to the second building. They only had a few moments. Scaling the chain-link fence, they took off running behind a row of busines
ses on the other side. A pit bull tied up in the backyard of a house across the street started barking.
“Damn!” Brent muttered. “That dog’s gonna give us away.”
“Run faster,” Jack said over his shoulder as he took off sprinting toward a cluster of houses on the next block.
They scaled another low fence and landed in the backyard of a small house. They stopped to catch their breath and listen for any signs of someone following them.
It was quiet, but Jack didn’t dare speak and alert anyone of their presence. He gestured silently to Brent: they’d keep moving through the backyards of the residential street until they got to a large hotel he’d spotted to the south. Brent nodded his understanding, and they pressed on.
The two men kept to the shadows as much as they could, seeking shelter behind trees and vehicles whenever possible. Each new temporary patch of cover they arrived at, they would stop, look, and listen for people nearby.
Under the cover of a tall pine in one backyard, they suddenly heard voices from inside the house nearby. Rather than risk a confrontation, Jack took off running.
They tore through several more backyards, scaling the low fences that separated some of them. Jack’s heart pounded in his chest. His lungs screamed, his injured leg protested, urging him to stop.
But he couldn’t, not yet.
Keep running.
At the end of the block, they could finally rest. Jack led Brent through an opening in the wooden fence and emerged in a back alley. They crouched between two vehicles parked at the end of the alley.
Catching their breath, they scanned the surroundings, narrowing in on the hotel across the street.
"That must be where she is!" Brent whispered. "Those are all female prisoners."
Jack watched as groups of women were being marched from the south along the sidewalk of the street adjacent to them, some one hundred and twenty yards away. One by one, the groups were led to the parking lot of the hotel. Each group was supervised and directed by a female guard or two. Most of the women had plastic ties around their wrists to prevent any kind of rebellion. The women looked exhausted and broken, both physically and mentally. They walked with their eyes down, cringing whenever a guard spoke or drew near. They were sunburned and covered in dirt. They had clearly been doing hard labor.
