Survival Rules Series (Book 2): Rules of Conflict

by Hunt, Jack

  “Now, I know what you’re probably thinking. Damn, doesn’t he look familiar. Is he a ghost or was that another man I killed? Well, let me clear away the confusion. That was my brother you murdered in cold blood.”

  Corey said nothing, he could have thrown back some comment about the rangers or his friends being killed, but his mind was still calculating the odds. He knew he would die if he did nothing, and there was a high probability his life would end if he made a move, but he couldn’t stand there waiting for the inevitable. Corey burst forward, snatching the extinguisher off the wall, and darted across into the stairwell. Sure enough, no one opened fire on him.

  “No one shoot!” Gabriel bellowed.

  They had no need, as all exits were blocked except for the windows. As soon as Corey was in the stairwell, he pulled the pin on the extinguisher and unleashed a cloud of white powder as he hurried up the stairs. The air was thick with monoammonium phosphate. He didn’t expect it to stop them but that wasn’t the point of it. He just needed to buy himself some time. As soon as he made it to the second floor, he rushed towards the end of the hallway, spraying more of the dry powder, and then threw the empty steel extinguisher at the nearest window.

  Glass shattered.

  A huge gust of wind blew in and he was just about to launch himself out onto the roof when a large dark figure off to his right came into view and collided with him. Corey was thrown across through a doorway into a room and landed hard. Just as his eyes adjusted, he saw who it was — his father.

  His father clamped a hand over his mouth, and brought a finger up to his lips. He then handed him a SIG Sauer P320.

  “Corey!” Gabriel’s voice bellowed.

  His father moved across the room to the doorway and pressed his back against it. That was when Corey saw two police officers across the hallway in another room. Corey shuffled over. “How did you make it inside? It was locked.”

  “The same way you were about to make it out,” he said gesturing to a window.

  The sound of a door opening could be heard, then footsteps running towards them.

  “He’s gone out the—”

  Crack.

  Before one of Gabriel’s men finished, his father raised his gun and fired a bullet into the left side of the man’s skull. His body slumped into a heap. Right then all hell broke loose. A hail of gunfire was unleashed and an officer on the other side returned fire.

  Gabriel kicked himself for toying with him. He’d taken one step forward and three back. Everything had gone wrong from the moment they’d crashed in Montana. He cursed under his breath, he should have listened to Marcus. If he had, they would have been far away from this hellhole and his brother would still be alive.

  Now he’d witnessed the death of Owens.

  “Pull back!” he yelled to the others who were caught out in the hallway.

  “You know it’s not too late to walk away,” Lee said.

  “Shut the hell up.”

  Reid shoved Lee into a corner of the stairwell. He was now restrained and had multiple bruises to the face. Gabriel had been so close to killing Lee since the incident back at Corey’s home. For a brief moment he couldn’t believe his luck when he saw Corey’s wife or girlfriend arrive at the home. They were but an hour away from leaving when her horse trotted into view. He’d wanted to take her in alive and use her as leverage to lure Corey to them, that way there would have been minimal loss of life, but that went out the window when Lee made a run for it to alert the cops. Torres had wanted to shoot him but before he could decide, Bill unleashed a flurry of rounds killing one of the cops. After that their focus was on staying alive. He still had no idea who took the shot that ended her life, only that when the smoke cleared, she was lying on her back looking up at the sky with glassy eyes. None of the other inmates confessed to it, they were smarter than that especially after witnessing him take Hauser’s life.

  Gabriel yelled over to Torres who was across the hallway in one of the patient rooms. He’d grabbed some old guy in his seventies and was using him as a shield so he could lean out of the room and open fire without getting hit. The look of pure fear on the man was priceless. Gabriel palmed a magazine into his AR-15.

  “You should leave now while you’re still alive,” Lee said. Gabriel had reached his breaking point with Lee. He pointed the gun at him.

  “You might have saved our lives but I will end yours if you don’t shut the hell up.”

  He wasn’t sure why he was keeping Lee alive. Maybe it was because of what he’d done, or because he thought he might come in handy if they ever got pinned down and they needed a hostage, an innocent, someone that could give them a way out, except now he was beginning to think he was nothing more than a dead weight.

  As he peered around the corner to get an idea of what was going on, Lee made his move. Even though his wrists were tied behind his back he lunged forward shouldering Reid and knocking him over and then took off down the stairwell. Gabriel twisted around and raised the rifle. He could have pulled the trigger but for some reason he didn’t. Instead, he just watched as Lee made it to the bottom. Lee looked back at him one final time before disappearing and they exchanged this glance as if to say, we are even now.

  Gabriel turned. “Torres, how many we got?”

  “By my estimate, around four.”

  Gabriel gritted his teeth as Bill Pope hurried across and dashed into the stairwell.

  “We should leave now. This is too hot.”

  “I’m not leaving without him.”

  “I’ve been on this ball of dirt sixty-three years and I’ve experienced it all. Hate. Vengeance. You name it. But I’ve learned it’s not worth losing your head over it. If we go now, we stand a chance. There’s always another day, Gabriel.”

  “No.”

  “You stubborn sonofabitch. Then I’m afraid this is where we part ways.”

  He backed up and made his way down making sure to keep his rifle raised. He recalled what happened to Walker on the beach. He knew better than to turn his back. Pope was smart. He’d picked the right time to walk away. An eruption of gunfire made him instinctively duck. By the time he raised his head again, Pope was gone. They were now down two men, only Torres, Jericho and Reid remained.

  “I got one!” Jericho shouted.

  Corey saw the officer drop, his gun slide across the waxed floor. He wasn’t dead but he would be in a matter of seconds. The round had caught him in the neck and although he had a hand clamped over the wound, his fingers were now gloved in blood and even though they were in a hospital, there wasn’t a chance he would have made it.

  “I told you this shit would happen,” his father said.

  “This is no time for your crap, Dad,” Corey replied. He shifted up into position and focused on a convex mirror farther down the corridor. From that he was able to tell how many there were and where they were positioned. A gunshot rang out, followed by a groan and a panicked voice. The officer across from them gave the thumbs-up before he tried to pull in his partner, whose body was partially out in the hallway.

  Corey glimpsed one of the inmates dash across into the stairwell. They were preparing to run for it. Another one did the same, gripping his arm tightly.

  So focused on what was happening, he didn’t hear his father the first time.

  “She’s gone, Corey.”

  It was when his father placed a hand on his shoulder and repeated, that he turned.

  “What?”

  “Ella. She’s gone.”

  His brow furrowed. His brain wasn’t registering what he meant. Gone? Gone where? “What are you talking about?” he asked before turning his head and looking at the mirror again. There was one left in the room across from the stairwell. Distracted, he gestured to the officer across from him and told him there was one left and he was probably going to make a run for it.

  “She’s dead,” his father bellowed.

  Right then all the noise of gunfire went silent. It was as if the world ceased to exist. He
turned back to his father and looked him dead in the eye. Questions came to mind but the words never left his lips. “I’m sorry, son.”

  He shook his head slowly. “The baby?”

  His father dipped his head.

  Corey glanced over at the officer as he was aiming to take a shot. He knew the others would probably head down, and the chances of them escaping were high. Although pain surged through his body and he was in no state for a firefight, all reasoning vanished as his eyes went to the window. Gripping the SIG Sauer tightly, he burst out of the room and without even a thought for his own safety he moved down the hallway heading for the room where the last inmate was waiting for his opportunity to dash across to the stairwell and join the others. Corey fired two rounds at the stairwell door before running into the room straight at the inmate. His sudden appearance caught the inmate off guard so that he didn’t stand a chance. A look of shock was the last expression on his face as Corey unleashed two rounds into his gut.

  20

  Bailey started acting erratic near Spencer Lake. She stopped on US-93 and began sniffing the ground, then darted across the road and back again as if she’d caught on to some scent. Tyler pulled on the reins and brought the horse to a halt. He looked around in the darkness thinking that she must have seen a rabbit. “Bailey. Hey! C’mon.”

  The dog’s tail started wagging, her ears perked then she growled.

  It was odd behavior being as they had already traversed many miles without issue.

  He called out to her a few times but she just ignored him and shot off down the grassy embankment at the edge of the road. Tyler threw up a hand. It was pouring rain and he was already soaked to the bone. “Ah, man, c’mon. I don’t have time for this.” He gripped the reins tighter as he urged the horse around. Sitting high in the saddle he glanced around looking for any threats. He directed the horse towards where Bailey had disappeared. The mare trotted over and then he dismounted, removing his AR-15 from the rifle scabbard. “Bailey. Get your ass up here. We have to…” he trailed off noticing the wet grass looked as if it had been pressed down in one area, as though something or someone had slid down the muddy incline. Bailey was at the bottom going around in circles. She latched on to something, then dropped it and sat there looking up at him. Tyler gestured her to come up but she wouldn’t budge. “You’re going to make me come down there, aren’t you?” He groaned and pitched sideways trying to find a good footing. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for him to find himself on his ass sliding down in thick sludge. He slapped the mucky ground in frustration. “Great. This better be worth it,” he muttered angrily. Rising and making his way over, he squinted.

  “What you got there, girl?”

  Baily sniffed at what looked like a large piece of unearthed soil but as soon as Tyler picked it up, he realized what it was — a flat shoe. He wiped off the mud and reached around into his bag for his flashlight. As soon as he turned it on and gave it another wipe, he recognized the intricate Japanese design on the side. Erika had been wearing something identical, in the same color. No. He shook his head. Could it be possible? What were the chances? He looked around, rain dripping off his face, before dropping it. “C’mon, let’s go. It’s nothing.”

  He took a few steps and noticed the dog wasn’t following. He turned back. Bailey just sat there. He motioned with a wave but she still wouldn’t respond.

  “It’s not hers.”

  Bailey barked twice.

  He groaned. “Seriously, it’s cold. I’m soaked. I really need to get back. Anyone could have had the same shoe.”

  The dog barked again, turned and trotted back up the incline.

  “Thank you. Finally. I’m glad you’ve seen some sense.”

  But that wasn’t it. Once he made it to the top, he saw her go across the road and down the other side.

  “Bailey!” The rain was coming down even harder now and the only place he wanted to be was somewhere dry and warm. Even the horse was fidgeting. He grasped the reins and led the horse across to the other edge and saw that Bailey was waiting for him at the bottom. “We are not doing this. Get up here now or I’m leaving you here.”

  The dog barked three times, turned and shot off into the tree line.

  “Bailey. Bailey! Oh, c’mon!” he said in frustration looking down the road. He had a good mind to leave the dog behind and see if she would follow once he took off but if she didn’t and Erika returned, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. Was it possible the shoe belonged to her? Had there been some kind of altercation on the road? What were they doing out here? Pissed off but curious as to what had got into the dog, Tyler mounted the horse, tucked his boots into the stirrups and directed the horse down the incline.

  This had better be worth it, he thought, as he dropped his chin and the deluge of rain continued to pour over him.

  Only a few miles northeast, just off Antler Ridge Road, tucked inside the heavily forested area of pines was the sprawling cabin belonging to the Jenkins family. The sound of yelling pulled Erika back from the edge of consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open to the world at an angle. It only took a few seconds to recognize where she was and the group surrounding her. “She’s awake,” Gus said.

  Horror and disbelief gripped her heart. As she tried to sit up, she noticed her ankles and wrists were bound. A flood of memories came back of being struck in the face with the barrel of a gun, then blackness. Denise marched over to her, a monstrosity of ’80s hair, cheap makeup and cigarette breath. “Won’t be going anywhere now, will you, missy?” she said stabbing her stubby yellowed fingertip in her face.

  “I’m telling you, Denise, we should just let them go. We’ll find another way.”

  “Are you stupid or just hard of hearing? How many times do I have to explain?”

  Gus looked panicked. “I’m just saying, that other person on the road might have seen us.”

  “The driver saw nothing. They were already around the bend by the time we scooped her up.”

  “It might have been a cop.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Who else has vehicles?”

  “We never gave ours up. Now would you just go and make dinner. You are grinding on my last nerve.”

  Gus trudged away cursing and mumbling under his breath.

  Erika glanced around looking for Nate. Where was he? They had her lying on the hardwood floor of the bunker below their cabin. She wriggled trying to get free, which only made Denise smile and get down close to her face. “You should have stayed in the forest but I knew you would eventually come out. A prissy little bitch like you doesn’t have what it takes to survive.” Erika spat at her. The spit landed on her lip, dripping off. Denise wiped it and then cracked her with one hell of a punch knocking her unconscious.

  She wasn’t sure how many minutes or hours passed until she awoke, only that when she did, she could hear someone whistling the national anthem and ending with… “And the home of the brave.”

  When she came to, she was in a different location. They’d carried her upstairs as she could see the woods through the drapes. Across the room, Gus was busy preparing some food as the aroma of potatoes and stew filled the air. Erika felt a sharp tug on her neck and then someone laughed. That was when she saw her. Denise was sitting in an aged recliner chair with a can of beer on a small wooden table beside her, a cigarette in one hand and a chain in the other. The chain went to a clamp around her neck.

  “Wakey, wakey! I think it’s time you and I had a talk.”

  Erika was still restrained but now Denise was treating her like a dog on a leash. She tugged at it and Denise tugged back. She waved her finger and tutted. “Can’t have you running off again.” She got up and grabbed her beer off the side table and took a swig. “How much longer until supper?” she asked Gus.

  “Dear God, woman, stop asking.”

  “I’m hungry. You know how annoyed I get when I’m hungry,” she said making her way over and blowing cigarette smoke directly into Erika’s face.
“You said Corey doesn’t know you well. Then how did you meet?”

  “Fuck you.”

  Denise flashed her yellowed teeth, set the beer can down and looked at her for a second before grabbing her by the throat and then bringing the cigarette near her eye. “Do you know how hot a cigarette burns when inhaled?” She waited for a response but Erika didn’t respond. “900 Celsius. Can you imagine that? 400 between puffs and 900 when inhaled. Now I wonder, if I took a drag now and quickly stabbed it out in your eye, what would that feel like?” She brought up the cigarette and took a big hit on it, causing the end to burn a deep orange. As quickly as she took the hit, she brought the cigarette down and touched the tip against the side of her face causing Erika to scream and thrash.

  “Oh that’s going to leave a nasty mark.” Denise smirked as she returned to her seat leaving Erika in tears. She took another swig from her beer and jerked the chain again. “Let’s try this again, shall we?” Erika stared back, fear, anger and hatred all boiled into one. “Where are you from?”

  “Vegas.”

  “And the connection to Whitefish?”

  “Tyler.”

  “Ah Tyler. The prodigal son. He’s back, is he?” She raised her eyebrows. “Now there is a disappointment if I’ve ever seen one. Corey? At least he made something of himself in the Marines but Tyler, the last I heard he ran away from home. Couldn’t take his old man’s rules. I think it’s an embarrassment.” She grinned puffing away and looking over at Gus. “Do you know his dad showed us videos of his kids screwing up? Well, mostly Tyler. You know, back when he was trying to knock some sense into them. Andy had his work cut out for him, unlike my kids. I told him he wasn’t hard enough on him. Yeah. That he might have had all this great advice on survival but without the Lord’s hand in it all, only rebellion would exist. Would he listen to me? Nope. No. You see, Andy Ford has no place in his sinful life for God. But that’s what makes all the difference. Take my kids, for example.”