Ray Foster didn’t get back up. Tanner tried to coax him to his feet from a safe distance, but the man just waived him on. “Go,” he breathed. “Just go.”
There seemed no reason to argue the point, so he left Ray lying in the prison yard. How long he would live, Tanner couldn’t say. But he suspected it wouldn’t be long.
He walked out the front gate of the prison, a slave who had suddenly awoke to discover that he had been emancipated. The weather was comfortable, and his orange jumpsuit was enough to keep away the chill. Not having anywhere else to go, Tanner walked east along Renfroe Road in the direction of a large plume of black and gray smoke. Whatever was on fire had plenty of gas and oil to keep it going.
After walking about a half mile, he came upon a site more appropriate to the streets of Mogadishu than eastern Alabama. A UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter had crashed into the roof of a Church’s Chicken fast-food restaurant. Bright yellow flames licked out from the wreckage, although the blaze was clearly on the way to burning itself out. The building was in pretty good shape, from the outside at least. Soot-colored smoke billowed between the small row of restaurants and shops, as if an old Indian medicine man was enjoying his favorite pipe of kinnikinnick.
The two intersecting roads were deserted save for a few cars that had either been abandoned or become the final resting places of their owners. The small community was as quiet as a graveyard, not a single soul standing around gawking at the most unusual sight.
A young girl, perhaps ten or twelve years of age, stumbled to the edge of the roof, doubled over and coughing. She was standing dangerously close to the edge, obviously trying to escape the heat of the fire. Tanner watched to see if anyone else would appear on the roof. No one did.
The girl looked up and saw him. She started motioning frantically for his help. He hurried across the street and stood next to the brick wall of the restaurant. She was about ten feet above him, teetering on the edge of the roof.
“Help me,” she cried, coughing.
He looked around but didn’t see anything that could easily be moved to lift him up. Seeing no other option, he said, “Hang off the edge and drop. I’ll try to catch you.”
“I can’t. It’s too far.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, turning to leave.
“Wait! What are you doing?”
He turned back.
“If you want my help getting down, you’ll have to hang and drop.”
“Are you sure you can catch me?”
Tanner shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never caught a girl falling from a burning building. But I’d say the odds are better than fifty-fifty.”
From the disappointed look on her face, she apparently didn’t appreciate his honesty.
“Okay, okay,” she said, first sitting down and then sliding her legs over the edge.
He moved close to the building and reached up. She was still about five feet out of his reach.
“Okay, now lower and drop.”
She carefully lowered herself, but as she was about halfway down, she started to cough, lost her grip, and fell backward.
Tanner saw her fall but accepted that there wasn’t much he could do to change what would happen next. He moved back half a step and spread his arms as wide as possible, hoping to act as a human net. The girl landed butt first on his left shoulder and then fell backward as if tumbling off a teeter-totter. He managed to cross his arms around her ankles, just in time to prevent her from flipping completely over his shoulder. When she finally stopped falling, she lay dangling across his back with her feet up near his head.
Tanner carried her across the street and set her on the curb. The girl’s whole body was trembling.
“Relax,” he said. “You’re okay.”
She nodded. “But it was close.”
“Yes, it was close.”
“You did good. Thanks.”
He smiled. “How old are you, kid?”
“I’m eleven,” she said, stiffening. “I’m just short for my age.”
He sized her up. “No, I’d say you’re about right for eleven.”
“You look … well, you’re as big as Oscar.”
“Who’s Oscar?”
She looked back toward the helicopter.
“He was my bodyguard. He’s dead now.”
“What kind of kid needs a bodyguard?”
She shrugged.
“That’s not much of an answer. You got rich parents or something?”
“Something like that.”
Tanner looked back at the wreckage.
“Where were you headed?”
“To my mother’s.”
“Where’s she at?”
“Virginia. It’s east of here.”
“I know where Virginia is.”
“Any chance … you’re headed that way?”
“I’m not really headed anywhere.”
“You just break out of jail?”
She pointed to his orange jumpsuit, which had the word “prisoner” stamped across the front and back.
Tanner looked down at her and furrowed his brows.
“For your information, I was released.”
She nodded slowly, obviously not buying the story.
“Okay. Does that mean you don’t plan to kill me?”
“I don’t plan to.”
“Okay,” she repeated.
They both turned as they heard several loud motorcycles approaching from the north.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get off the street.” He turned and hurried over to a small submarine sandwich shop with a sign above it that read, Vinny’s.
The girl stared up the road, weighing whether the motorcycle riders might prove more helpful than a reluctant rescuer wearing a prison jumpsuit. After a few seconds, she turned and followed him.
A handwritten sign hung on the window informing would-be patrons that the restaurant was closed until further notice. Tanner tried the door, and wasn’t surprised to find it locked. He bumped it with his shoulder, and the lock broke free of the doorjamb.
“Come on,” he said, ushering her in and pushing the door closed behind them.
A few seconds later, a group of four men rode into the intersection. Tanner recognized one of them as Wesley, a fellow inmate who had been doing time for molesting his neighbor’s fifteen-year-old babysitter. Like most sexual predators, he tended to stay with his own type while in prison. Wesley was a big man known in the yard for two things: he was the only inmate capable of bench pressing more than five hundred pounds, and he enjoyed forcing himself on young men who were new to prison.
For the moment, the four riders seemed completely enthralled with the helicopter crash. Tanner didn’t know how long that was going to last, but he was sure that, if they found the girl, she would become the unwilling object of their affection.
He turned to her. “Look around for somewhere to hide.”
“Okay,” she said, her face turning a sickly shade of white.
She walked around the small store, opening cabinet doors and looking in closets.
After a brief search, she said, “I found something.”
When Tanner turned around, he saw that she was holding a large revolver with both hands.
“It was under the cash register.”
“Bring it here.”
She held it out in front of her like a pair of dirty work boots. When she got close, she suddenly had a change of heart. “Maybe I should keep it with me.”
“There’s only one problem with that.”
“What?”
“That’s a Taurus Judge.”
“So?”
“It’s loaded with .410 shotgun shells, which means it will kick like a stick of dynamite. Even if you could pull the trigger, which I doubt, it would jump right out of your hand or, worse, smack you in the forehead.”
“Oh.” She handed it to him.
He opened the cylinder and saw that two of the five shot shells had already been fired.
&n
bsp; “What’s your name?” she asked.
“I’m Tanner. You?”
“Samantha. You can call me Sam, if you want.”
“Okay, Sam. Have you found a place to hide?”
“Under the sink, maybe. But if they look, they’ll find me.”
“I’ll give them a reason not to look. You stay put until I come back or you hear them drive away. Got it?”
“Yes.”
As he opened the door to leave, she said, “For what it matters, I hope they don’t kill you.”
All of the men had dismounted from their bikes and were standing around watching the helicopter burn. By the time Wesley saw Tanner approaching, they were only a few car lengths apart. Tanner had stuck the Judge in the front of his waistband where it would be clearly visible. Big as Wesley was, he wouldn’t want to take a .410 load to the chest.
“My man Tanner,” Wesley said in a voice loud enough to draw everyone’s attention from the rooftop spectacle.
Tanner nodded to him. “Wesley.”
“I didn’t know they let you out. I thought you hard timers were going to end up food for the rats.”
Tanner moved to within a few feet of the group.
“Most of them are still locked up.”
“You get out for good behavior?” he said, making a vulgar motion with his hand.
Tanner didn’t answer.
“You should get rid of those scrubs. Someone’s gonna take a shot at you.”
Tanner saw that Wesley was wearing jeans, a pullover, and a black leather jacket. All of the clothes looked brand new. The other three men were similarly dressed in new biker clothing.
“Where’d you get the duds?”
Wesley pointed up Highway 275.
“We found a Harley Davidson store just up the road. An old guy was hiding inside, but he didn’t mind us taking what we wanted.”
“He definitely didn’t mind,” added one of the men, laughing.
Tanner wouldn’t be baited into hearing about their violence.
“You ever seen anything like that?” he asked, gesturing to the helicopter.
“Nope,” answered Wesley. “Looks military to me. Did you check it out?”
“Still too hot. Even if it wasn’t, it looks all burned out.”
Wesley nodded, looking around.
“You see any survivors?”
Tanner shook his head.
“I doubt anyone could’ve walked away from that.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s a brave new world, my friend. And we’re gonna be the conquerors. You should come with us. Fun times ahead, I promise you.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll go my own way.” Tanner turned to walk away.
Before he had even taken two steps, Wesley spoke.
“You know I always wondered …”
From his tone, Tanner knew there was going to be trouble. He looked back over his shoulder, his hand instinctively sliding up to the grip of the Judge.
“Yeah?”
“I always wondered if you were really as tough as everyone claimed.”
The other three men stood up straight, their eyes glazing over with cruel intentions.
Tanner pulled the Judge free, spun around and fired three times. With each boom of the cannon, a man fell. When the smoke cleared, only Wesley remained. His hand gripped a Beretta pistol stuck in his waistband, but he was so shocked by what had happened that he had yet to pull it free.
“Toss it,” Tanner said, pointing the empty Judge at his chest.
“Why did you go and do that?” Wesley said, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief.
“This world doesn’t need any more conquerors. Now, toss the piece, slow and easy.”
Wesley pulled the pistol out and tossed it about ten feet away.
“Now what?”
Tanner threw the Judge over by Wesley’s Beretta.
“Now, I answer your question.”
It took Wesley a moment to understand the situation. When he finally did, his lips curled up into a confident smile.
“So, that’s how it’s gonna be?”
“Yep.”
Without hesitating, Wesley charged him like a linebacker looking for the game-winning sack. Tanner managed to deflect much of Wesley’s energy by spinning away to his right and landing a solid elbow to his ear. If it had been a few inches further back, he might have dropped the big man with a single blow to his mastoid.
As it was, he ruptured Wesley’s eardrum and sent him stumbling away. Tanner immediately stepped forward and shot a front kick at Wesley’s knee. The kick contacted with a muffled crunching sound, and his leg bent to the side as ligaments tore free. Wesley screamed in pain and lunged for Tanner again. This time, he managed to get both arms high around his waist.
Tanner was a big man, but Wesley was an ogre. Not only was he giant, he was also incredibly strong. Using his superior strength to his advantage, he pulled Tanner into a bear hug, pinning one of his arms against his body. Wesley’s knee wouldn’t quite keep him upright, so he stayed bent over as he applied the powerful hold. Tanner felt his ribs compressing as if he had been caught in a junkyard car crusher. He felt around with his trapped hand and found the inside of Wesley’s thigh. Grabbing a handful of the tender skin, he tried to rip it away. Wesley screamed and shifted his body.
Tanner felt a weakening of the bear hug and tried to break free by jerking violently to one side. Just as Wesley’s fingers came apart, Tanner leaned in and dropped a powerful elbow onto the back of his neck.
Wesley fell to his weak knee, stunned by the blow. Tanner grabbed the back of his head and drove his knee up into the man’s face … once, twice, three times.
Wesley fell back unconscious, his nose broken and his eye socket partially crushed. Bright red blood drizzled from his nose, and his eye bulged out like an overripe cranberry. Wesley wouldn’t be a threat to anyone for quite some time. Tanner started to walk away, and then thought better of it. He turned back and, with a powerful stomp to the head, snapped Wesley’s neck.
Samantha said, “I saw what you did out there.”
“I figured.”
“Were they bad men?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you killed them?”
Tanner thought about it a moment.
“Could be.”
“You don’t know why you killed them?”
He sighed. “We have to go.”
“Where?”
“You said you wanted to head east.”
“So you’re going to take me?”
“You’d rather I leave you here?”
“No.”
“Then, I guess I’ll take you.”
“All the way to Virginia?”
Tanner shrugged. “Let’s take it an hour at a time. You talk a lot.”
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, pressing her lips tightly together.
“Proving me wrong?”
She grinned.
“I can tell this is going to be a long trip,” he said, shaking his head.
“I should warn you that my mom says I’m socially awkward.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“I think it means that I don’t always say the right things.”
“Who does.”
“We’re going to need food and water for the trip.”
Tanner pointed to a large glass case filled with bottled beverages.
“We’ll need other things, too. Backpacks, blankets, and flashlights. I’ve been camping a few times, so I know about these things.”
“I think we can find most of what we need in the stores around here.”
“What about a car?”
He looked out the window
“Plenty to choose from. You got a preference?”
She thought for a moment.
“Something red?”
“Fine. You stay here and see what food and water you can round up. I’ll go get some clothes and a car.”
“Where
are you going to find clothes big enough to fit you?”
Tanner thought of Wesley’s new biker clothes.
“I’ll find something.”
Chapter 10
The Survivalist (Frontier Justice) Page 11
