Brink of Extinction | Book 2 | Stay Alive

by Shupert, Derek

  “I’ve got that piece I took from Andrès’s place.” Anna lifted the front of her shirt, showing the black grip of the heater stuffed in her waistband. “Other than that, I don’t have anything else.”

  I looked to the tree line across the way. The lack of light made it difficult to penetrate the wall of thick trunks and verdure that had a thin layer of ash coating the bark and leaves.

  “Any suggestions on the direction we should head?” I asked.

  Anna glanced about. “Your guess is as good of as mine.” She pointed over the plane. “There could be a small clearing past that ridge. There might be a road close by that could lead us to a nearby town or wherever.”

  I tilted my head toward the wall of trees before us. “That sounds good. We’ll have to start somewhere.”

  Anna shivered again, and the rows of goosebumps on her exposed arms caught my eye. “We need to get out of this, though. The last thing we need is to breathe this soot in for long periods of time.”

  “Agreed.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  CORY

  Anna tore a piece from the bottom of her shirt, shook the ash from the fabric with her good arm, then secured it over her nose and mouth. She pulled it tight behind her head, then adjusted it over the bridge of her nose. It looked weird on her face, but it seemed to do the trick.

  I turned my head away from her and coughed into my elbow. I gripped my side. A stinging pain stabbed my ribs. My throat and nose burned with each breath I took.

  “You need to cover your face, if only for a little bit,” Anna said, her voice muffled by the fabric. “That cough could get worse the more you breathe the ash in.”

  I nodded, then massaged my throat to ease the discomfort.

  Anna pointed at the bottom of my dingy shirt. “Tear a strip from the bottom like mine, then knock away any ash from it so you’re not breathing it in.”

  My hand swatted at the ash falling around my face. I lifted the bottom of my shirt up, and spotted a hole in the fabric. My fingers pushed through the opening, and I pulled in either direction. The fabric ripped around my waist in an uneven pattern. I shook what soot gathered on the tattered rag and secured it over my nose and mouth.

  Anna looked it over, then nodded. “That should work for now. You want it tight around your cheeks and nose to keep the ash out.”

  I pinched the front of the fabric around my nose, then tugged. It had little to no movement. “I think it’s good enough until we can find something better.”

  Anna rubbed her hands together, slipped them under the flap of the torn fabric, and walked past me.

  A cold chill washed over me. I shivered and followed her around the back of the aircraft, past the damaged wreckage that sat at an angle in the gathering ash. I secured the other strap of the pack over my shoulder and pulled both tight.

  We hit the base of the hill and worked our way up through the trees and verdure that covered the steep slope. Anna grabbed at the smaller trees and bushes, using them to help her up the incline. She moved in ponderous slow motion, favoring her injured arm while pulling her weight up the slope.

  I lost my footing, slipping and falling flat on my face. A rock punched my side as I hit the ground. I winced.

  Anna stopped, then glanced down at me. “Are you all right?”

  I pushed up from the ground to my knees, cradling my ribs. “Yeah. I’m good. Keep going.”

  She pushed through the trees and bushes, stepping over downed logs that lay in our way with her head tilted forward to shield her face from the soot.

  Thunder rolled across the angry sky. Flashes of white lightning crackled, then exploded. The wooded area we trudged through lit up for a second, highlighting the dull gray that carpeted the ground.

  Branches snapped under our weight as we neared the clearing. Each breath felt labored, strained. The hill we climbed didn’t seem that big from the ground, but having been in a plane crash made the journey cumbersome and difficult.

  Anna pushed through the tall grass and climbed over a fallen tree to the paved road before us. She turned around, then offered me her hand.

  “I got it,” I said, lugging my frame over the dense tree trunk to level ground.

  Anna looked down the winding road with the ridge of her hand pressed above her brow. Her lean frame shivered from the bite of the wind that tore through the trees. She turned and looked the other way, then shrugged.

  “I guess we pick a direction and start walking,” she said. “I can’t see for shit out here.”

  I took a quick look, then pointed ahead of us. “I say we keeping going forward. We follow this road long enough, we’re bound to run into a town, house, or something.”

  “I hope so,” Anna replied.

  We trekked down the desolate road through the falling ash, shivering and rubbing our hands up and down our arms. I watched for any headlights slicing through the soot. I coughed some more, then clamped my lids shut, fighting the sting that festered in both sockets.

  I struggled to focus as I battled the elements and the pain nestled in my side and muscles. The longer we walked, the more my body ached and throbbed.

  Anna tucked her hands farther under her arms, fighting the cold. She kept her head pointed at the ground. Her hair turned a slight gray from the ash that gathered in the long strands. The gash above her brow and the blood that ran the length of the side of her face had dried.

  We pressed on down the road, past the trees and other vegetation that rumbled above us in the growing tumult. With each step we took, the air felt as if it grew colder. I wrapped my arms across my body to trap any warmth, but the wind stole it from me just as fast.

  Anna stopped walking, then nudged my arm. “What’s that?” She pointed to an open field we traveled alongside. “Is that a barn or something?”

  I followed her finger and spotted what appeared to be an abandoned barn set in the middle of a field. The derelict structure leaned to one side, as if it couldn’t quite stay upright. I didn’t spot any houses or other buildings within the trees clustered behind or around it.

  “Yeah. That’s what it looks like,” I answered. “Come on. Let’s get out of this for a bit.”

  We worked our way through the ditch and across the open field. Anna huddled next to me as my body blocked the whistling wind. The discomfort in my knees flared, causing me to limp.

  The outside of the barn had numerous gaping holes in the walls, revealing the interior of the dark building. Lightning ignited the sky overhead, offering a flash of light that illuminated the rotting wood frame.

  “It’s better than nothing, I guess,” Anna said, her hand resting on the grip of the Glock. She walked through the missing door on the front of the barn, leaving my side.

  I glanced to the dark clouds for a second, then passed through the opening of the barn. I spotted Anna’s silhouette moving about in the low light. She walked around the defunct structure, looking up through the rafters to the damaged roof.

  The wind tore through the openings in the walls. Ash fell through the hole in the roof. The wicked bite of the wind lessened, offering us a reprieve.

  Anna lowered the cloth covering her face to around her neck, then leaned forward. She tossed her hair over the front of her head and ran her fingers through the tangled strands.

  I pulled the fabric down from my mouth and nose, ran my palm over my face, then head, wiping away the gathering ash. My teeth chattered and my hands trembled from the dropping temperature. I cupped them together and blew inside my palms, trying to warm them up.

  “I wish I knew why the temperature is dropping like this,” I said. “It’s not fall or winter.”

  Anna stood up straight, then shrugged. “No clue, but if it keeps going down, we’ll need to get some warmer clothes. The ones we have on won’t work for long.”

  I skimmed over the barn, looking for anything of use, but found nothing more than dirt and grass. “I’d say let’s get a fire going so we can warm up some, but I don’t have a lighter an
d I don’t know how to start one without one. I’m not what you would call a survivalist.”

  “You don’t say?” Anna replied, putting her hair up into a ponytail. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

  “That obvious, huh?” I shot back.

  Anna massaged her sore shoulder while looking at the barn. “Yeah. You don’t strike me as the outdoorsy type. I pegged you for more of a city guy. The concrete jungle seems more your speed.”

  I nodded. “I can’t deny that.”

  “Well, if we can find some wood that isn’t rotten, I can maybe start a fire.” Anna pointed at the ground, away from the gaping fissures in the walls and the hole in the roof. “I can dig a pit there. Use some of this dead grass here and any small sticks and such as tinder. Could work.”

  “Why am I not surprised that you know how to do that?” I asked, staring at her. “Seems like there’s a lot I don’t know about you. It’s obvious you’re not this frail, helpless teenage girl you’ve been parading around to be.”

  “I need for folks to think I am some helpless, frail woman,” Anna replied, walking around the barn with her head trained at the ground. “It’s hard to get close to a mark if they see you coming from a mile away. I’ve had plenty of practice at being the helpless fifteen-year-old damsel in distress. You’re not the first person I’ve worked that angle on. It works pretty much every time. Helps to have a young, innocent face.”

  I rubbed the stubble on my chin, watching Anna sift through the grass with her foot. “So, you really are a contractor, then?”

  “Contractor, hit man, hit woman, however you want to put it, but yes.” Anna bent down, then reached inside the grass. She pulled a piece of wood from the ground, looked it over, then tossed it to the side.

  “So, our first encounter in LA wasn’t by accident?” I asked, recalling the events over the past two days. “Those two thugs attacking you in the alley–”

  “Staged, and pretty well if I do say so myself,” Anna answered before I could finish. “I hired those low-life’s you kicked the crap out of. Told them to make it look real. They jumped at the chance. Shocker that they’d want to pretend to rape a teenage girl.”

  I shook my head in disbelief, confused by everything. “Who hired you?”

  “The big boss man himself, Rhys Coleman. Never a good thing killing a king pin’s son. Muddies the water,” Anna replied with her back turned to me.

  “I didn’t kill Duncan,” I said, lifting my hand in the air and shaking my finger in protest. “What happened on that damn yacht when the tsunami hit is all on Duncan, not me. It shouldn’t have gone down the way it did.”

  “Well, doesn’t really matter now, does it? What’s done is done and Mr. Coleman wants your head and that of your family’s pretty bad.” Anna turned toward me. I caught a glimpse of the Glock secured in her waistband. I looked down at the weapon, then back up to her. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. If I wanted you dead, that would’ve happened back in the alley. You’re safe from me, so you can relax.”

  My muscles tensed anyway, despite her reassurance. I glanced back up to her. “If you’re not here to collect on my head like the others, then why are you helping me? I’m assuming you’re helping me, right?”

  She shrugged. “You’re more of a means to an end, really.”

  I raised my brow. “How so?”

  “I was in LA tracking down a possible lead on the people who killed my parents when I got wind of the contract on you. Mr. Coleman said there were others coming after you as well. So, I figured I’d use you as bait. Get close to you. Find out who all is after you and your family. I need to find the connection with who they are and who had my family killed.”

  My head swelled with confusion. I stood there, stunned from the fact that she was a hit man and could do the things she could, much less everything else. “To say that I’m confused is an understatement. Where did you learn to do all of this? How long have you been after them?”

  Anna sighed, then ran her hand over her face. “Listen. I’ll explain everything once we get a fire going, all right?” She glanced toward the black void beyond the stalls across the barn from her and craned her neck.

  Anna reached for her Glock, then pressed her finger to her lips. “Be quiet.”

  I glanced toward the darkness, searching for what spooked her. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “There’s something back there.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SCARFACE

  A dull, nagging pain surged through my body. Smoke and the smell of sulfur filled the air, making it difficult to breathe. I laid prone on my stomach, the side of my face smooshed against the cracked window of the fuselage. Despite feeling battered and beaten, I’d survived.

  My eyes cracked open to a bright light shining over the disheveled mess of the cabin. A slight film coated my vision, making it hard to see in the dim jet.

  Cold air blew over the top of my bald head, causing me to shiver. The wind whistled in my ears.

  “Who the hell are these guys?” a muttered voice asked from nearby.

  It didn’t sound like Jackal or Grizzly from what I could tell.

  “I have no clue, Frank. From the look of this plane, though, I think it’s safe to assume they have money,” a deep, raspy voice answered. “It’s something like those rich people have. I wonder if this is a G6 or something similar?”

  “Does it matter if it is, Jim? Just focus and stop wasting time. It’s not like we’re going to be able to load it in the back of the jeep and haul it off right now. We’ll have to get a flatbed trailer from the compound, so we can strip this thing to the steel skeleton.” A pause lingered for a second, followed by a dry cough. “That storm will be on top of us soon, and I want to be done and gone from here before it arrives. All of that crap falling outside is making it hard to breathe. We’ll need to bring masks or something when we come back later. For now, just look for anything of value. We’ll worry about salvaging this wreckage later as long as the authorities don’t get to it first. Besides, you know how my brother gets with radio silence.”

  “I don’t think the police or anyone else is going to give two shits about this scrap heap with that mess going on outside,” Jim replied, clearing his throat. “These poor bastards landed in the middle of nowhere, so I don’t think help will be coming anytime soon. Just in case, let’s not waste any time and get this done.”

  The two men continued bickering and rummaging through the wreckage for anything of value. I laid motionless as they walked all around me.

  I couldn’t lay eyes on Jackal or tell whether he lived or not.

  Grizzly’s body leaned to the side with his arm draped over the armrest in the cockpit. Gray snowfall gathered on the control panel and gauges through the shattered windshield.

  A cough sounded, followed by his arm twitching and his head moving. He stirred in his seat, coming to.

  The two men stopped, then trained both of their flashlights at the cockpit.

  “Did you hear that? I think the one in the cockpit is still alive,” Jim said, his voice rising an octave. “What do you want to do?”

  “Shit. Not what we need. Give me a minute to think here, will ya,” Frank answered in a huff. “The way I see it, we have two choices here. We can cut our loses and leave, or we can take care of that burly fellow up there and these other two. Drag them outside and away from the plane. With the way the ash is falling, I doubt they’d be found anytime soon, that is, if the wildlife doesn’t eat them first. This could be a good haul for us. There could be money or other valuables hidden in here to help keep the compound running.”

  Grizzly lifted his arm and groaned.

  “Well, we need to decide fast since he’s waking up,” Jim replied. “It’ll be much easier to handle him right now while he’s out of it. Your call, Frank. This was your idea and you spotted it.”

  “Damn it. I don’t want to leave just yet. Let’s take care of them fast and finish up while we can. If we need to come back la
ter, we will, but I’d rather do what we can now so when Charlie crawls up my ass, it won’t be for nothing,” Frank answered.

  They made for the cockpit in a single file line. Both men wore coats with hoods pulled over their heads, concealing their faces. They pushed past the wires hanging from the ceiling and stopped beside Grizzly.

  I pressed my hands against the wall of the cabin and pushed away. My neck throbbed—a pulsating pain that lanced down my back. I watched the two men wrestle Grizzly from his seat as he moaned in agony.

  I turned a bit farther, looking past my seat to the other side of the plane.

  Jackal sat in his seat, slumped over and still. More gray snow blew in through the large fissure in the fuselage above the wing. Dark shadows covered a portion of his head, making it hard for me to see his face.

  The two men dragged Grizzly down the aisle by his shoulders. He groaned in agony. His legs scooted across the floor, past my body. He spoke in a weakened tone, his words jumbled and indiscernible.

  “Don’t worry, friend. We got you.” They vanished outside with Grizzly, leaving Jackal and me inside the plane.

  I moved away from the window and crawled across the floor. My lungs ached and I shoved the sleeve of my coat into my mouth to muffle a deep cough. I grabbed Jackal’s leg and shook it. He didn’t respond.

  Thunder rumbled in the sky, shaking what was left of the fuselage. Lightning crackled, illuminating the contorted metal of the aircraft’s wing.

  Heavy footfalls sounded on the floor to my side. A silver gray covered the top of the person’s boots.

  “Hey. Looks like we got another one that’s awake in here now,” Jim said, in a loud shout.

  “Bring him and the other guy out here,” Frank replied, his voice low and muffled by the rumbling thunder and gusting wind. “We don’t have much time and need to take care of them.”

  I reached inside my coat for the United Cutlery Push Dagger. The footfalls came toward me.

  His flashlight beamed me in the face. “Don’t you boys worry. We’re going to take care of you.”