by A. R. Shaw
The kid stood there in a daze near the door as Davis tried to decide how best to approach a man impersonating a Roman candle. He first threw the blanket over the man’s head and then used the knife to cut his neck, spilling his blood down the front of him. Most of the flames were doused by then, by either the blanket or the blood.
The sickening smell of burnt hair and other body parts was not something Davis would forget. He wasn’t after mercy, however. Davis wanted the man’s gun and hoped it was still operational after all that.
He turned the burned body over and found the man’s back holster and pulled the weapon free. “Good, let’s go,” Davis said, but when he turned around, the kid was nowhere in sight.
57
Ivan
He heard the alarms. They squealed in the distance, yet Ivan kept his temperate pace toward the doorway. He opened it to the cold breeze outside. It was a refreshing change to the fetid air inside the house. In his right hand he held the boy’s piss-soaked blue jeans. He lifted them up and flung them in the middle of the yard. He didn’t do laundry. They’d find the boy another pair somewhere. In the meantime, the girl let him wear a pair of her pajama pants that Linda had found for her. They were pink with butterflies and too big, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. The boy had not yet stopped crying and Ivan wasn’t sure how he felt about wearing girls’ clothes. When he left the kids, the girl was rolling up the cuffs of his girly pants and covering him up with her own blanket. The girl was a nice one. She seemed happier having someone smaller to take care of. He wasn’t yet sure about the boy.
In his left hand, Ivan held his pistol. He checked the magazine, out of habit more than anything else. It was fully loaded but he knew that already. It was a habit, a mere stall for time. When he was through, he stood there watching the night from the doorway while the alarms, fed by a generator, were still wailing in the direction of the building housing Davis.
Someone was going to die tonight.
“Stay inside,” Ivan yelled into the dark emptiness of the house and shut the door behind him as he left.
58
Jason
He took the first and only chance he had to run. Davis had his back turned as he doused the Roman candle and though it hurt, Jason used the back of his burned arm to open the door and skirted through the opening without Davis noticing. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he ran up the dimly lantern-lit stairs. Flames reflected off the walls in a flickering dance. Jason hit a corridor with an open door at the end of it. He looked both ways and then took off at a run toward the open doorway at the end of the long hall but ducked when he saw shrapnel flying off the side of the wall in front of him. He turned and saw Davis, with only parts of a torn and burned hospital gown clinging to his front as he stood over another body.
That guy was relentless with the killing.
Jason’s eyes met his in the dim lamplight of the hallway.
With one fling of his hand, Davis waved him on, but then crouched and turned to the opposite side as if he knew someone was coming.
Jason didn’t stay to find out whom; he ran through the door’s exit and out into the cover of darkness with the song You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring running through his mind. He had no idea where he was, but firelight came from one direction. He went in the other, farther into the darkness.
The one thing that kept coming back to him was the radio he saw in Ivan’s hand the moment they were taken. If he could get to Ivan, he might find a way to alert the others.
But that would have to wait, because at the moment, he had to hide. Toward the firelight, there were silhouettes of guards and other people in the distance, running from building to building. He couldn’t let anyone capture him now. He had to make the most of this opportunity and to do that, he needed to find the least likely place they would search for him.
59
Sloane
They began to run, all of them, across the open expanse to the back of the building when suddenly Sloane saw a man dart out of the back-side door. “Down,” she whispered, and they all crouched again behind a truck. “Stay down,” she said as she peeked through the vehicle’s windows. The man seemed familiar, but she wasn’t sure.
She tapped Chuck on the shoulder and flicked her index finger twice, then pointed through the glass.
She motioned with her chin, and he looked as well at the running man.
Chuck nodded and in the lowest tone possible whispered, “That’s the man we let get away.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded, but Sloane wasn’t sure.
“Wren,” she said with a tilt of her head.
Her daughter nudged Chuck over and looked too. “That’s him! That’s the guy who took Jason,” she said in a loud whisper.
Sloane nodded her head.
The man ran on.
“Aren’t you going to do something? He’s getting away,” Wren said.
Shaking her head, Sloane said, “No. He’s not our objective.”
Her daughter let out a frustrated breath and pulled her knife.
“No,” Sloane said. “He’s not why we’re here. You attack him, and we all lose our cover.”
Wren turned away but glared at her mother.
But it was too late for the man getting away anyway. Sirens suddenly erupted, causing them all to scramble for cover.
“Stop, Davis, or I’ll shoot!” yelled a voice and the beam of a large flashlight lit up the man running away.
Sloane and Chuck pulled Wren down and out of sight behind the vehicle.
“We have to move,” Chuck said.
“Why are they after him?” Wren said, and Sloane knew they were all wondering the same thing, but there was no time to figure that out now.
“Quick,” Sloane said and led the others to the side of the next building.
Guards were suddenly running everywhere with the sound of the alarm. Something big was going on.
“Are they after us?” Boyd asked.
“I don’t think so,” Sloane said.
“Then what?” Wren said. “What the hell’s going on?”
“I don’t know, but as far as I can tell, Jason is still in that building and that’s where we need to go.”
“Drop your weapon,” the guard yelled as the man named Davis stood in the middle of a parking lot. He was naked except for a small cloth barely hanging onto his chest and held a pistol in one hand and a long knife in the other.
Sloane watched as the guard with the flashlight approached closer.
“Don’t do this, Davis. Put down your weapons,” one of the guards said.
“Where are my wife and boys? Did he kill them? Someone tell me the goddamn truth!” Davis yelled.
Another guard ran up to the man in the flashlight and said something no one could hear.
“Davis, Tale is coming. Put down your weapons.”
Davis held each weapon away from his body and shook his head. “No. You want them? Come and take them.”
To the right, several others were coming. Sloane assumed this was Tale with his inner entourage. She raised her rifle and trained her scope on the center figure in the dark, but she wasn’t yet sure which of them was Tale. If she could just take him out, this would all go much smoother.
“Kill him,” yelled the commander’s voice.
Sloane quickly switched her aim to the guard with the flashlight as he raised his rifle and pulled the trigger, before he could take down Davis.
Davis jumped back, confused, but then quickly began firing on the guards in front of him.
Sloane quickly regretted her last-minute decision as the guards began to also shoot in their direction.
“Go, go, go,” she yelled as her group ran for cover. At the last second, she saw that Tale and his men had fled but Davis was still fighting like a one-man army.
Out of breath but safe, Chuck said, “Was that one of those enemy of my enemy is my friend maneuvers? Because I’m trying to understand why you did that.”
“Is he still standing?” Wren asked.
“I’m not going back to find out,” Chuck said with crazed eyes. “That guy is nearly naked, armed and killing everyone there. Did you see him? I can’t believe we let him go. We should have cloned the guy. Made a whole army out of naked black soldiers.”
“That’s…not right,” Wren said, shaking her head.
“Shut up! Both of you,” Sloane said as she tried to figure out their next move. So far, they had to retreat back to one of the previous buildings because of infighting. Shots and shouts still rang out in the distance. Ragged beams of light told her someone was running in one direction and still others in another direction.
Things quieted after a few seconds. Sloane put her hand out to indicate the others should stop their chatter. “Davis must be on the run now,” she whispered.
“Or…he’s dead,” Wren said.
“Nah…that guy’s invincible,” Chuck said.
Wren and the others stifled laughs.
“We’re going now, children,” Sloane said with her eyes drilling into Chuck.
60
Davis
Davis had no idea where the shot came from that saved him, but he suspected Ivan was there in the shadows somewhere to help him. He wasn’t sure what had changed his mind or if he was always on board. He knew when Ivan had taken in the girl, that changed things for him. “That’s the way kids are,” Davis had warned him. “They crush your heart. They’ll make you do anything to ensure their safety. Watch out for that. Things you wouldn’t normally consider.”
At the time, Ivan denied anything would change him. He’d been wrong, of course. Davis knew that. The girl was an innocent. She’d been a prisoner of Hyde’s. They were sent to pick her up and ordered to kill her. Only Davis had children of his own and he wouldn’t do it. Ivan couldn’t either. He was just too decent. The only alternative was to make her useful to them. To prove to Tale she had some value. Ivan knew the radios. He taught the girl and quizzed her, became her friend and over time pulled information from her about the town of Cannon Beach. This information became especially useful when Hyde and his entire operation were destroyed.
That’s when Tale agreed to let Ivan adopt the girl that he kept in the lock-up all by herself. He needed a solution under Tale’s terms anyway. This arrangement provided that. The thing was, though, Ivan was not father material.
Davis had laughed at the time. Nowhere in Ivan’s DNA was a carved niche for sensitivity. It just wasn’t in his makeup. But the girl seemed capable of taking care of herself anyway.
Though as Davis ran toward his house in some faded hope that his wife would be standing there in the doorway, his heart ached knowing his own children were no longer a part of this world. He loved being a father. He needed to see the empty house for himself. Know that they were all gone from this world. Perhaps she left a note? Then he’d find some damn pants and go after Tale for the last time. He wasn’t leaving this world with that man still breathing.
The other guards were still after him. He’d killed four of them before he could get away. The funny thing was, he regretted doing the killing. He was just good at it. He knew if Tale were dead, they’d turn human again. Or so he hoped. Maybe they were too far gone now. He’d seen that happen in war, back in the old days, when things were run by the careless greed of man, until nature put a stop to that.
His feet were so messed up as he landed one in front of the other over torn asphalt, glass, and gravel, it didn’t matter. He felt nothing anymore. It only mattered that he made it to the house, regrouped and returned to end this madness once and for all.
61
Ivan
Later he would wonder why he bothered. It seemed important at the time. Davis was more than wounded and probably dead, so why not get Linda? She was the doctor, right? He found himself standing in her doorway, looking at her with a smile as all hell broke loose behind him. People ran in different directions, panic-laden shouts and orders dissipating on the wind. But he smiled at her and reminded himself how beautiful she was even though she sported one hell of a black eye.
“Where’s your guard?”
Her returned gaze was equally quizzical. One corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk.
“He ran off to help the others?” she said with her shoulder raised. And then with a tilt of her head, she asked, “Davis?”
He assumed she referred to all the noise in the distance. “I believe so,” he said. “Get your things. He’ll need your help.”
She let go of the door and stood there with a sudden stubbornness. “If I leave this house, Ivan, I’m not coming back. You can’t make me.”
Her lips were now in a thin line. The smirk disappeared.
With a tilt of his head he said, “I have no intention of making you do anything you don’t want to do. Like I said, get your things.”
With a nod of her chin, she turned and ran inside. Her hair bounced like an airy cloud around her.
Ivan turned around on the porch and watched the chaos. He should be among them. They were doing it all wrong but that wasn’t his job anymore. Somewhere between grabbing the boy from his dead mother and nearly betraying his friend, he’d made an important decision. He wasn’t sure what that decision was, but he was acting on it. It felt good for a change.
She touched the back of his arm. He turned around and found her standing there with not one but two backpacks. Her hair was tied up under a hat. He didn’t like that, but it was probably for the best where they were going.
“Where is he? Davis, I mean.”
“I don’t know. Let’s follow one of these idiots. We’re bound to catch up to him.”
Then a few shots were fired nearby, and he found himself pulling Linda to the porch flooring.
“I’m betting that’s him. Let’s go.”
62
Jason
Jason couldn’t hear the shots, but he saw intermittent flashes in the distance. Someone was in big trouble. It was probably whoever was on the other end of Davis. He wasn’t going anywhere near there. He still resented him for manhandling Wren and kidnapping him. Jason wasn’t sure what his motives were or what was going on with the big dude, but he’d rather not run into him again.
He’d forgotten what it was like to be held against his will and tortured. His time free in Cannon Beach held more value. It was strange how the mind worked sometimes. Pain and affliction seemed like a fleeting memory once it was all over. It wasn’t like a happy memory…those you kept forever. Or like the loss of a loved one…those stayed with you. He’d once heard that if mothers remembered the extensive pain of childbirth, they wouldn’t do it more than once. It was only when Jason felt the stinging burns along his arms that he flashed again on the torture room, and Hyde, and the hell he endured in there.
But that was over, and this was now. Jason scanned the streets up and down. Blue truck, blue truck…that was all he could think of now. Finding the blue truck and the man who drove it. None of the other guards that he saw wore a hand-held radio but that guy. Someone had to be on the other end of that thing, but it wasn’t a walkie. It was a genuine radio, with longer distance capability. He needed to find one and get word to Sloane quick, because something was going down here.
A few more streets over and Jason had to take cover behind a vehicle as guards ran by. He was about to run to the next building when he turned back suddenly. He’d spied through the window a residential house across the darkened street and in the driveway was the blue truck Ivan drove that day.
Jason stood straight up despite the chaos. Hmm, maybe he’s home. Despite the dangers around him, Jason ran over to the truck and tried the handle. It
was locked. Dammit. He looked inside the darkened cab, but the radio was either not inside, or perhaps it was inside the house with its owner?
Across the yard, Jason began to walk up to the front door as if he belonged there, thinking of the song The Man Comes Around by Johnny Cash. The house was like something out of the post-war era. It was in desperate need of repair but looked comfortable. There were several things flung in the yard; he couldn’t really make out what they were in the dark. A few figures ran from one direction to the other across the street. They didn’t seem to mind him. He wasn’t who they were looking for, apparently. Davis was the person they were seeking at the time, he suspected. That could change, though; he needed to complete his mission and get out of there.
Jason put his hand on the doorknob and expected to find it locked but when he twisted it, the door opened with a creak. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He assumed Ivan was out helping Davis. This was probably a good place to hide for a while. He scanned the darkened living room for any radio equipment, figuring it was like a drone…you couldn’t have just one. You had to have a couple of different models, right? One was never enough. But there were limited supplies for a radio head at worlds end.
The kitchen. That’s where everyone put their stuff. They dumped their change, their keys, their junk mail all over kitchen counters. Nodding to himself, Jason headed to the kitchen that he figured was down a short hallway. When he rounded the corner to a short galley, Cash’s music suddenly ceased. What he didn’t find was any radio equipment. What he did find was a set of eyes staring back at him, and they were from someone half his size.
