Fall of Man | Book 4 | The Tide
Page 14
“Who says you have to ask their permission?”
That was true. And yet…
“Just do it.”
He couldn’t.
“Why not?”
Yeah. Why not?
“Listen to Michael Jordan and Nike. Just do it, chum.”
Just do it? Could he?
“Just do it, chum. Just do it.”
Cole stood still, looking down from the second-floor catwalk at the others below. They were huddled down there with the exception of Dante, who was sitting in his wheelchair next to Cole. Zoe and Ashley were helping the newcomers load what little supplies they still had into the parked APC while Cameron stood guard somewhere on the rooftop above. After what had happened earlier with Bolton, they didn’t want to take any more chances another crazy would find its way up here before they evacuated the place.
They’d found out that the crazy jogger had managed to scale the side of the building. The woman’s hands were flayed almost to the bone from the effort because she hadn’t used gloves. She’d climbed up like Spider-Man (Spider-Woman?) and laid in wait for Bolton. The pilot had arrived first to prep the Bell for takeoff. From what they could tell, there had just been the one crazy.
One, it turned out, was more than enough to ruin Cole’s plans.
“What’s that they say about the plans of mice and men?” the Voice asked.
Cole ignored it and said out loud to Dante, “You should go get ready. They’re almost done.”
The teenager was peeking over the railing when he pulled his head back slightly. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You’re not coming with us?”
“No.”
“I thought after what happened to Bolton…” The kid let the rest go unsaid.
But he had a point. How the hell was Cole going to reach Anton’s warehouse without a chopper or a heavily armor-plated vehicle?
“You’re not,” the Voice said, “unless you take that APC and point it where it needs to go.”
He could do that, but it would be bloody.
“Who cares, as long as it’s not our blood.”
But did it have to be?
“Yes.”
No. Not really.
“It’s the only way.”
He could avoid it.
“How so?”
All he had to do was convince the others to change directions and head north instead of west.
…convince the others to change directions…
That was the trick, wasn’t it?
“Use that slick tongue of yours,” the Voice said.
What slick tongue?
“Oh, my bad. Wrong person,” it said, laughing.
Cole grunted.
“You said something?” Dante asked.
Cole turned to look at the kid. “I have to go back to Anton’s. I need to find out what happened to Emily.”
“But you don’t have Bolton’s chopper anymore.”
“I know.”
“So how are you gonna get there without all those bloodies trying to get up close and personal with you?”
“I don’t know the answer to that one yet.”
Dante stared at him. The teenager was saying, without words, the same thing everyone had, including Cameron, Zoe, and even her daughter, Ashley. They all thought he was crazy, and they were probably right.
“Take the APC,” the Voice said. “You need it.”
I can’t.
“Take it.”
I can’t.
“Take it!”
He sighed and glanced down at the first floor again. Of the newcomers, he’d pegged Deke and George as the most dangerous. Mark was too young, and the woman, Annette, was a wildcard. She looked as if she could handle herself, and she’d likely proven that since all of this began just by surviving this long, so he had to consider her a threat, too.
“You gonna do it?” the Voice asked.
He hadn’t decided yet.
“So why you gauging threats?”
Because…
“We need that APC. You know it and I know it. It’s the only way to get to Emily.”
That wasn’t true. Even if he were to reach Anton’s, there were no guarantees he’d find anything that would point him to where Emily’s abductors had gone.
“Better than just standing here holding your nuts.”
The Voice had a point.
“I have lots of points, chum.”
Don’t get ahead of yourself.
It laughed again, even as Cole watched Ashley disappear into the APC and Zoe climb out. She was sweaty and wiping her hands on her pants. She must have sensed him staring, because she glanced up and gave him something that almost looked like a pitying smile.
He gave her a wave back and watched her return to work. They’d probably be done in less than an hour. Then it was wait until morning.
And after that…
“The APC will be gone,” the Voice said.
He couldn’t do anything about that.
“You sure?”
Yes.
“You sure?”
He didn’t answer the Voice so quickly the second time.
The squawk of a radio, followed by Cameron’s voice. “How’s it going down there?”
Cole looked over as Dante unclipped the radio from his hip and pressed the transmit lever. Since Cole wasn’t leaving with them, most of his duties—and Bolton’s—had been transferred over to Ashley and the kid.
“It’s going,” Dante said into the radio. “Any more freaks topside?”
“All clear up here,” Cameron said. “I guess that crazy was the only one that figured out how to climb the wall.”
“I still can’t believe she did that.”
“Believe it, kid. So how much longer?”
Dante leaned toward the railing and shouted down at Zoe, “Hey. Cameron wants to know how much longer?”
Zoe glanced back up at him. “Thirty minutes. Tops.”
The teenager pressed the two-way radio. “Zoe says thirty minutes max.”
“Roger that,” Cameron said. “I’ll be down in twenty, then we’ll seal this place up tighter than a nun’s asshole.”
“Roger Roger,” Dante said before putting the radio away.
“‘Roger Roger?’” Cole said.
Dante grinned. “I saw it in a movie once. Thought it sounded cool. The movie? Not so much.”
Cole nodded absently and returned his gaze to the first floor.
The Voice was right. He needed that APC. There was no other way to reach Anton’s in one piece. Could he convince the others to change directions? To delay their westward trip for a day or two? The problem was that he’d tried, but Deke wasn’t having any of it, and what Deke said, apparently, went for the others as well. He was leader of the pack. The alpha.
“So how do you take over the pack?” the Voice asked.
You take over as alpha. That was how.
“So do it already. Emily needs us.”
Cole didn’t respond.
“What are you waiting for?”
He remained quiet.
“Do it.” Then, even louder, “Just do it!”
Cole sighed.
“What’s wrong?” Dante asked.
Cole shook his head.
“What are you thinking?” the kid asked.
“I need that APC,” Cole said.
“For what?”
“To reach Anton’s.”
“I thought you already asked Deke and he said no.”
“Yeah, he did.”
“So…”
Cole turned around. “Stay here.”
“What?” Dante said, spinning around in his wheelchair as Cole walked quickly past him. “Hey, where you going?” Then, when Cole didn’t answer him, “Cole? Cole!”
Cole reached the stairs and climbed down, boots clanging loudly against the metal rungs. He had his rifle slung over his back, but Cole didn’t unsling it. Instead, he let his right h
and hang at his side, close to the holstered pistol.
Zoe was standing in front of the APC with hands on her hips, sweat along her brows, when Cole reached the first floor. She looked surprised to see him down there. “Changed your mind?”
“No,” Cole said.
“Cole!” Dante, shouting from the second-floor catwalk.
Cole continued to ignore the kid, but Zoe didn’t. She glanced up at the teenager before refocusing on Cole. “What’s going on?”
He continued walking.
“Cole?” Zoe said. “What’s going on?”
He walked past her. Zoe turned to look after him, but Cole wasn’t focused on her anymore. He was looking at the large vehicle as Deke stepped outside, drawn by all the shouting.
“Changed your mind?” Deke asked.
Cole shook his head as he continued walking toward the man. “No.”
“So…what’s going on?”
“I need the APC, Deke.”
“What?”
“I need the APC.”
Cole saw it in Deke’s eyes—he knew what Cole’s intentions were. Which probably explained why he suddenly reached for his own holstered pistol.
Unfortunately for him, Cole was ready for it.
Bang!
Chapter Eighteen
Cole hadn’t fired.
Neither had Deke (even if he had, somehow, beaten Cole to the draw, which he hadn’t).
Instead, the gunshot had come from above and to Cole’s left. From the second-floor catwalk.
From Dante.
“Dante?” the Voice said.
Dante? Cole thought.
“Hey, I said it first!”
Oh, shut up.
Cole had his gun out of its holster, but it was only half-raised. Deke hadn’t managed to even draw yet. Now, both of them turned toward the source of the gunshot.
Dante, seated in his wheelchair, a Glock in his hand.
“Well, well, well. Didn’t see that coming.”
The kid looked down at them, his face as serious as Cole had ever seen it. The teenager had only fired one round, and it’d struck the concrete floor somewhere between Cole and Deke and ricocheted off somewhere. Cole might have found the bullet’s eventual landing spot if he’d searched for it, but at the moment he was just a little too stunned to do anything.
So was Deke.
“Okay, now that I’ve got everyone’s attention,” Dante said. “Let’s all calm the fuck down and chat this out, shall we?” He motioned with his gun as his eyes settled on Cole. “Put it back in, Cole. And I ain’t talkin’ about Little Cole, know what I mean?”
Cole didn’t.
“He’s just a kid,” the Voice said. “You can take him. He probably can’t hit the broadside of a barn with that thing.”
You willing to risk my life on it?
“Well…”
That’s what I thought.
Cole slid the SIG Sauer back into its holster and took his hand off the weapon.
Dante turned to Deke. “Likewise for you, mister.”
Deke squinted back at the teenager.
“Come on, I got the high ground here,” Dante said. “I might miss with the first, second, and third shot, but I probably won’t miss with the whole mag. But hey, what do I know; it’s not like I shoot people for a living. Then again, this thing”—he gestured with the gun in his hand—“ain’t exactly rocket science, is it?”
By now, the others had piled out of the APC behind Deke. The woman, Annette, and the other two men in the group, George and Mark. Ashley remained inside, but she did peek out from one of the windows to see what was happening. Smartly, the kid hadn’t ventured out to join what was clearly shaping up to be a powder keg of a situation.
“That’s one smart kid,” the Voice said.
Yeah, she is.
“Too bad she might get killed in the crossfire.”
Don’t say that.
“Just sayin’.”
You can stop.
“It could happen.”
Shut up.
Cole heard movement behind him. Zoe. She’d been back there the entire time, not making a move or even a peep. Like Cole and Deke, she was probably more than a little surprised by what had just happened.
While he hadn’t finished the draw, Deke hadn’t taken his hand off his weapon’s butt. Cole could see the gears turning behind the man’s eyes as he played the odds over in his head. Maybe Deke was suddenly even more brave now that George, Mark, and Annette had come outside to join him. All three, like their leader, were armed and scanning the warehouse trying to figure out what had happened.
Eventually, the three realized it was Dante, and everyone glanced up at the kid.
“What the hell’s going on out here?” George asked. He had a big, booming voice that was made even bigger and more booming when they echoed off the building’s metal walls.
“Fuck me dead,” the Voice said. “Three against one. I do not like these odds one bit, chum!”
Cole didn’t either, but it wasn’t like he had any choice. He’d made his move and there was no going back now.
…no going back now…
“Everyone stay calm,” Dante said. Or shouted. Half-shouted. “We just need to get on the same page here, that’s all.”
Deke hadn’t said a word—and he also hadn’t taken his eyes off Cole after the initial diversion up to Dante. “You want the APC?”
“Yeah,” Cole said.
“You can’t have it.”
“I’m gonna take it.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” George asked.
“What’s he saying, Deke?” Annette asked.
The only one who hadn’t spoken up was Mark. The kid remained quiet. Cole couldn’t tell if he wanted to run back into the APC and hide or draw.
“Forget him,” the Voice said. “Focus on the other three. Focus on Deke.”
It was right. He had to focus on Deke.
“I don’t have any choice,” Cole said.
“The hell you don’t,” Deke said.
“Deke?” Annette said. “What’s going on? What’s happening?”
“Oh, shit,” George said, because, like Cole, he figured out what Deke was going to do before Deke did it.
The leader of the newcomers went for his gun.
Cole did too, reaching for his SIG. But he’d lost the element of surprise, and now it was a simultaneous draw.
Annette and George did the same, but Mark stumbled back, a look of shock on his face.
Bang! as a second shot rang out.
Cole froze, the SIG in his hand and pointed at Deke, whose own Beretta was pointed back at him. But neither one of them had pulled the trigger.
Cole didn’t have to wonder where the second shot had come from. Neither did Annette and George, who turned to look up at Dante, their weapons turned to aim at him reflexively.
“Goddammit, I said everyone re-fucking-lax,” Dante said.
Mark, the only one without his gun in his hand, had taken a couple of steps back, as if he could disappear from the warehouse entirely.
“Dante?” Annette said. She squinted up at him, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.
“You ain’t the only one, sister!” the Voice cackled.
“Everyone, calm the fuck down!” the teenager shouted. “Last one who doesn’t lower their gun hand gets shot in the face!”
Deke stared at Cole, who stared back at him.
Annette glanced over at Deke. “Deke?”
“Man, this is fucked,” George muttered.
“You got that right,” Dante said. “Now, everyone, let’s calm the hell down. Everyone lower their gun. I ain’t asking, goddammit!”
Cole did, but only when he saw Deke do it first. He let the SIG Sauer hang at his side, while Deke did the same with his Beretta. The other man’s eyes remained fixed on Cole. As far as Cole could tell, Dante might as well not even exist in Deke’s worl
d. No one, but Cole.
“Smart man,” the Voice said. “But we still gotta kill him. It’s the only way to take the APC. You know that, don’t you?”
Cole didn’t respond.
“Yeah, you know, all right. You know…”
Seeing that everyone had lowered the gun, Dante did likewise, laying his Glock on his lap. “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.”
“What now, kid?” George asked.
“Now we talk this through,” Dante said.
“Talk what through?” Annette asked.
“Ask him,” Deke said, nodding in Cole’s direction. “He’s decided he wants the APC.”
George turned to look at Cole. “The hell he’s taking it.”
Cole didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to say.
Was there anything to talk about? They weren’t wrong. He wanted their transportation, and they weren’t keen on giving it to him. Instead of just Deke, there were now three others to deal with. Four, if he were counting Mark, which Cole didn’t. The kid looked shell-shocked. Cole would be surprised if he even knew what day it was.
Cole’s initial plan—such as it was (The Voice laughed inside his head)—depended entirely on getting the drop on Deke and his companions. Once he took Deke out of the equation, he could deal with the others. George, next. Or maybe Annette. Mark wouldn’t have been too much trouble (and his response, now, only reaffirmed Cole’s initial assessment).
Except none of that was possible now. The plan was out the window. Now, Cole had three people with guns to deal with. Four, if he were counting Dante, but he didn’t think Dante would shoot him.
Probably.
Again, the Voice laughed. “We’re doing a lot of hoping these days, aren’t we?”
Whatever happened, Cole only knew one thing: He needed the armored vehicle to get back to Anton’s warehouse. He was a realist and knew he didn’t have a very good chance of making it on foot. Even if he could secure another vehicle, it wouldn’t have the same invincibility of that metal juggernaut squatting behind Deke, George, and Annette.
No. It had to be the APC. That was all there was to it.
“Let’s everyone calm down and put their guns away,” Zoe was saying. Zoe. She was still somewhere behind Cole. He hadn’t realized she hadn’t gone anywhere until she spoke up. “Please, we can work this out. Guys? Cole? Let’s talk, like Dante said. We can talk this out. Come to an agreement.”