by Bruno Miller
Once the guard had the flashlight out, he seemed to forget about the gun for the time being and focused the beam on Allie’s face. She held her arms up and shielded her eyes with her hands as best as she could. He only kept the light on her for a second before sweeping the rest of the container with the bright white beam. When he saw Ben kneeling on the floor, he started to bring his rifle up to a shooting position and stepped the rest of the way into the container. That was all Joel needed to get a clear shot at the guy. His dad’s instructions played over and over in his head as he rotated his hips and brought his elbow around as fast and as hard as he could.
Crack. The impact sounded more like an open-palmed slap to the face than an elbow to the neck. Completely caught off guard, the young moonshiner reeled from the attack and dropped the gun as he let out what Joel would describe as a grunt, followed by a rush of air from his mouth.
The guard stumbled backward, wide-eyed and shocked. The flashlight rolled around on the metal floor of the container, and Joel caught another glimpse of his dad, only this time he was in motion and only a couple of feet away. The flashlight came to a stop against the wall, and they were in almost total darkness once again.
Joel couldn’t see very well anymore, but he felt the air move as his dad rushed past him. The guard was already on the ground, writhing in pain and holding his neck. It sounded like he was trying to say something—probably trying to call for help—but it was too late for that. His cries came out as nothing more than faint gasps and wheezes.
Joel barely noticed when Allie ran into him and wrapped her arms around his waist; he was too focused on trying to make out what his dad was doing. Ben was already on top of the guard and moving around, but Joel couldn’t see what was going on. The guard’s labored breathing quickly turned to gurgles. Then there was silence. It was all over in a matter of seconds, yet Joel felt as though time were standing still.
He thought that seeing this guard being taken out would bring him some sense of satisfaction, but all he really felt right now was disgust over what they had endured to get to this point. He put his arm around Allie and pulled her close to his side. No words were spoken, and none needed to be.
His eyes were recovering from the brightness of the flashlight, and as his night vision returned, he watched his dad get up off the guard, pausing halfway to wipe the knife on the guy’s shirt. He’d killed the guard. Just like that, it was over. Joel realized he’d been holding his breath ever since he struck the guard and inhaled deeply.
He was encouraged by their small victory here, but there was no time to celebrate or any reason to. Taking out this guard and gaining freedom from the container was just the beginning of what they had to do. Technically, they were still prisoners since the whole compound was surrounded by a chain-link fence. And just beyond those trees was a camp full of bad guys who weren’t going to willingly return their stuff and let them go on their way.
Even if that were the case, Joel knew his dad too well to think for one second that he was going to run from here like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. His dad was going to want to level this place and make sure no one else fell victim to this trap. And if he had his way, they wouldn’t leave here until there was nothing left standing, including the people who had done this to them.
But that was just the way his dad was, and while it sometimes worried Joel, he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way this time. He was proud of his father for standing up for what was right and looking out for others. Everywhere they’d run into trouble, they’d left things better or safer for the next person.
But none of what they’d done elsewhere mattered now. They were here and had to deal with this situation. The elbow strike was just the beginning of what would be required of him tonight. But he was up for it. He had to be. There were too many people counting on him.
And he was capable. He’d just taken out a guy on his own. Even though his dad was there for backup and ultimately finished the job, Joel was pretty sure he could have done it if he had to. He steadied his nerves as best as he could and prepared himself for what would surely be the fight of their lives.
Chapter Seven
“Grab that flashlight and turn it off,” Ben whispered as he approached Joel and Allie. Allie grabbed it and turned it off before it could do any more damage to their night vision or alert anyone to what was going on.
“Now what?” Sandy moved forward with Emma and Bradley by her side. Ben held up his finger and listened for a bit. He wanted to make sure the other guard or the lone guy in the far container hadn’t heard them. It was just as important to keep what they were doing from him as it was to hide it from the moonshiners. The last thing they needed was for the guy to start making noise and blow their whole plan. With any luck, he was sleeping.
Ben handed the guard’s AR-15 to Joel. “I want you guys to find a place to hide until I come back for you.” He then grabbed the guard’s feet and dragged his body into the container and out of sight. Once the container was closed and the body was hidden inside, the other guard wouldn’t suspect anything if he came around to check on things.
“Sandy, can you and the kids look for his keys out there somewhere? They’re not on him. Maybe they’re in the lock or on the ground.” Ben was careful to keep his voice low while still being heard clearly so everyone knew that what he was asking of them wasn’t optional. Taking the guard out had started the clock, and they had to keep moving until they saw this through to the end.
“Dad, let me come with you,” Joel pleaded.
“No, I need you here with them,” Ben said sternly. There was no time to argue. But then he felt bad for snapping at him. “You did great. I couldn’t have done better myself, and I’m proud of you. But I need you to watch over these guys while I do a little recon. We need to know exactly what we’re up against here. How about we meet over by the cars in…fifteen minutes?” Ben tilted his head toward the collection of cars the moonshiners had stolen from people throughout their career of terrorizing travelers. The cars were parked in the corner of the compound and only twenty or thirty yards away.
Joel looked disappointed that he was staying behind but nodded that he understood. “Be careful, Dad.”
“I’ll be right back. Just stay out of sight and close the container before you head over to the cars. Oh, and don’t let the others out yet. We’ll do that when I get back.” Ben needed to get going. Joel had this under control. “You got this.” Ben looked his son in the eye and put his hand on his shoulder for a second before taking off.
He would have liked nothing more than to have his son by his side right now. He was a competent shot and levelheaded backup in the heat of the moment. Sure, he had some growing up to do and a lot to learn still, but who didn’t at seventeen? With a little instruction, Joel was nearly as capable as some of the guys he’d deployed with. And that was exactly why he wanted him to stay with the others and keep an eye on his brother and sister. Joel was exactly where he was needed most. Besides, Ben could move faster and quieter alone. Stealth and speed were crucial to the first part of his plan.
Ben avoided the path the guards had been using and made his own way through the thinner sections of brush and trees. Fortunately, the compound hadn’t been completely cleared of forest, and small outcroppings of vegetation were scattered about the interior of the camp. These made for great cover, and Ben moved from one to the other while making his way closer to where he thought the still was located. Rita had said it was on the far side of the camp, and while those weren’t exactly good directions, he could figure it out. The compound wasn’t that large; he figured the whole place to be under five acres.
When he could, he tried sticking to the perimeter, but eventually, he reached an area that was thick with thorns and brush. He was forced to follow it away from the fence and toward the center of the camp. By the time the thorny barrier ended, he was only a few feet from one of the container houses the moonshiners lived in.
He made his way to th
e far end of the house, stopped at the corner to get his bearings, and found himself looking at the massive firepit in the center of the camp. He was halfway there now. He took his time, listening and watching for any movement. A guy had passed out in an old weathered recliner near the firepit, but other than that, he didn’t see any signs of life.
The once-raging bonfire was reduced to mostly glowing embers and a few remaining smaller pieces of still-burning wood. It put off just enough light for Ben to study the man in the recliner and realize that the old man himself was passed out by the fire. He could also see the outline of a weapon leaned up against the ragged old chair.
Ben weighed his options as he scanned his surroundings one more time; there was no one else around. His goal was to reach the still, but it would be nice to have a weapon. He rolled the knife handle in his hand. A real weapon.
He began his approach to the chair by first moving to a position directly behind it. Another quick check to make sure he was alone, and then he moved again, this time straight in until he was inches from the back of the recliner. He was about to reach around when he noticed that the rifle leaning against the arm of the chair was his M24.
He wasn’t sure what made him more upset: the fact that the man had his rifle or the fact that he knew now, beyond a doubt, that the moonshiners had gone through the vehicles. Their supplies and belongings were likely scattered all over the camp. They’d be gathering what what was theirs until morning if they even found it at all.
No time to worry about that now. It just made it easier to do what needed to be done. Ben reached around both sides of the chair and placed his left hand over the man’s mouth while using his thumb and index finger to pinch off his nose. With his right hand, he skillfully guided the knife into the neck and through the carotid artery.
The man came to instantly, and his body went rigid with convulsions of panic, but within a few seconds, they stopped, and Ben felt the life slip out of him. He maintained the intensity of his hold just to be sure, all the while keeping his head on a swivel. This was where Joel would have been an asset. Not to see this gruesome act unfold, but to cover his butt while he was occupied.
He made sure to wipe the blade clean again before grabbing his rifle and quickly dropping the box magazine. He was relieved to find it full and pushed it back into place with a dull click. He threw his arm through the sling and shouldered the gun. He would leave the old man right where he was. Anyone wandering by would expect him to be passed out there by the fire. Besides, when things kicked off and the other moonshiners started to panic, finding their leader with his throat slit would only help add to the chaos and weaken their resolve.
Ben performed a quick search of the man’s pockets and found a set of keys that he decided to take with him. He moved away from the recliner and the center of the camp as quickly and as quietly as he’d come in. Slipping around the side of another container house, he took cover and planned his next move. Ben glanced at his watch; he was good on time, according to what he had told Joel. It was no reason to rest, though. He needed to keep moving.
Ben searched for his next target, and it didn’t take long for him to pick out a small building that looked like a prime candidate to house a still. It was a small shed and the first thing he’d seen in the camp that wasn’t made from a commercial shipping container. A round tin pipe reflected the moonlight as it poked through the roof and radiated visible heat waves into the night air. The still was inside; there was no doubt about it. He’d made it here with less trouble than expected.
As he crept closer to the building, he heard a mechanical humming noise coming from inside. He traversed the last twenty yards to the shed in a crouched run. Once there, he discovered the source of the noise: a large louvered fan built into the far side of the structure. The exhausted air was warmer than the outside air, and when he stood in front of it, there was a chemical odor that reminded him of a cleaning solvent.
Ben found the door and tried the handle, but it was locked. A quick search through the keys he’d taken from the old man produced a match for the lock, and he let himself inside. Once in, he stood up fully and took stock of the place. He didn’t know much about making moonshine or about stills, for that matter, other than what he’d learned late at night on the History channel while waiting up for Joel to come home.
He understood the basics of how a still operated and knew that the alcohol vapor it produced was said to be highly explosive. The fact that the moonshiners had the still inside only helped his cause. It wasn’t a smart setup, and it must have been done more for security reasons than practicality; the old man didn’t trust any of them and wanted it locked up, apparently. Ben wasn’t surprised. There was no honor among thieves.
The explosion would create a diversion and give them a small window of opportunity to take out a lot of bad guys in a short amount of time. If he could get this thing to go off the way he hoped, the moonshiners’ first concern would be to put out the fire and try to save their still, allowing him the luxury of picking them off while they scurried about.
Ben eyeballed the setup and identified the parts of the system as best as he could. They had a gas-fired burner under the largest container, which he took to be the mash pot or boiler. His understanding of the process was that alcohol vapor was created here and rose to the top, where it followed the line out and then went on to be cooled back into a liquid, which was the finished product. If he could open up that pipe at the top and fill the shed with flammable vapor, the place should blow sky-high. It wouldn’t take long. The mash pot was huge, and according to the gauge on a small piece of copper tubing that stuck off from the side of the main container, there was quite a bit of built-up pressure inside. They must have been in the middle of making a new batch.
The still took up most of the real estate inside the shed, but the leftover space was crammed full of glass jars and other containers stacked to the ceiling on crudely made shelves. Most of the jars were full, and Ben took one off a nearby shelf to examine it. The liquid inside was as clear as water, but when he took the top off the jar, a strong smell indicated otherwise.
He took a small sip and spat it out at the burning ring of flames under the mash pot. The fire erupted and leaped out toward him, curling around the equipment. The flammability of the moonshine surprised Ben, and he had to step back to avoid being burned. The stuff might as well have been gasoline; it sure tasted enough like it.
Ben spat again, this time to try to get the taste out of his mouth, but he was careful to aim away from the open flame. After replacing the jar on the shelf, he leaned his rifle against the wall, then cracked the door and took a quick peek outside. All was quiet, and with no sign of activity, he was free to go to work sabotaging the still.
The first thing he had to do was cut the power to the exhaust fan and close the louvers so the room was as airtight as possible. He followed the loosely run wires to a power source that turned out to be a few linked car batteries. Ben hoped none of them were from the Blazer or the Jeep and took a closer look to make sure. Satisfied they didn’t need any of the batteries to get out of here, he continued on as planned.
Ben yanked the wires off the bank of batteries, and the fan came to a stop within seconds. He’d close the louvers on the outside of the building last. As strong as the moonshine was, he thought it best not to take any chances and close off the opening until he was ready to leave.
Next, he focused on the pipe leading off the top of the mash pot. That was where the alcohol vapor left the boiler and moved on to be cooled down to a liquid. He needed to separate the pipe fitting at the top and looked around the room for something he could use; the pipe was too hot to touch with his bare hands. He entertained the idea of knocking it loose with the butt of his rifle but didn’t want to risk making that much noise.
He spotted a pair of leather work gloves hanging by the door and decided they would have to do. Ben put on the gloves and touched the pipe gingerly at first, gradually working his way up to wra
pping his whole hand around it. He could feel the heat immediately, but it was bearable, at least for as long as it would take to do some damage. He didn’t waste any time and grabbed the copper tubing with both hands. Concentrating his efforts at a joint, he wrenched back and forth on the connection until it creased and then broke off. Jerking his hands back from the rush of scalding-hot vapor, he watched it escape from the newly severed pipe for a few seconds. That should do it.
It was hot inside the shed to begin with, but now, without the fan and the boiler spewing blistering-hot alcohol vapor and steam into the room, it was downright inhospitable. Ben swore he felt the temperature rise a few degrees before he was able to shoulder his rifle and slip outside. Once he was out of the stifling confines of the shed, he took a deep breath. The night air felt refreshing, and the sweat running down his face was cool to the touch when he wiped it away.
He ran his hand over the set of louvers on the outside of the exhaust vent, closing them one by one until the opening was sealed as well as it could be. The clock was officially running on the explosion he hoped to create. The shed had a footprint of about ten feet wide by ten feet long and a low ceiling. At the rate the busted pipe was spewing vapor, he guessed it would only be a matter of minutes before the air inside the shed was combustible, and he needed to put some distance between him and the still.
Ben adjusted his rifle sling and prepared to make the trek back through the compound to rejoin the others. He was keeping an eye on the time as well, knowing full well that Joel would be watching the clock and holding him to his fifteen-minute promise.
He had a few minutes left, though, and there was no need to rush now and risk making a mistake. Other than getting away from the still, he needed to take his time sneaking back through the camp. He didn’t want to lose the element of surprise when the still blew, although if what they were drinking tonight was the same stuff he found in the shed, they might all be passed out drunk. Even better.
