by Lukens, Mark
“Petra,” Audrey hissed.
Petra got up and approached Audrey. “I’m here.”
“You said you wanted to leave.” A nervous glance up the stairs, at the open basement door.
“Yes.”
“Now’s the chance. We don’t have a lot of time, though. We need to hurry if we’re going to go.”
“Where is everyone?”
“I don’t know. The Dragon is out. Jacob too. There’s only two guards. One inside the house and one out on the front porch.”
“Where are the Dragon and Jacob?”
“I don’t know,” Audrey snapped, yet she kept her voice down to a hoarse whisper. “You said you wanted to escape. This is the chance. Maybe the only one.”
“Let me get my shoes,” Petra said and raced back to the bed. She slid her feet into her hiking boots and laced them up quickly. She hurried back to Audrey, who waited in the same spot on the landing.
“You said you’ll take me to your people,” Audrey said.
“Yes. I promise.”
“You said they have doctors there. Medicine.”
One doctor. A nurse, really. But Petra wasn’t going to argue with her. “Yes. We have all that.”
“I need help. I don’t feel good. My hands, they’re starting to hurt bad.”
“We’ll get you help. But you need to help me first.”
“I am.”
“I know. And I appreciate that. But I need to know if any of my other people are here. A woman named Crystal. Short hair, tattoos. Another woman named Tamara. A man named Tyrone. Dale, Zak, or Lance.”
“I don’t know any of them. No one’s been here except you.”
“Could they be held somewhere else? In a different house or building? Is there somewhere else where prisoners are held?”
“I don’t know,” Audrey whined, her right leg jiggling.
For just a moment Petra wondered if this was some kind of setup, wondering if Audrey had been sent down here to do this.
But why would the Dragon do that? What would he gain from it? And if Audrey was acting, then she was doing a hell of a job. Petra had no choice but to trust the woman. Audrey’s fingers had been taken, and it seemed like she was already getting sick from an infection; she might be getting desperate.
“What’s the plan?” Petra asked.
“We go upstairs. Out the back door in the kitchen. Out there, you’ll wait in the bushes. Let me check things out first. Okay? Then I’ll come back and get you. We’ll cut through some backyards until we get to the fence. There’s a way through the fence in one of the sections.”
“How do you know that?”
Audrey hesitated.
“Audrey?”
“One of the Dark Angels told me.”
Petra stared at Audrey, searching her light blue, watery eyes for the truth. “And you’re absolutely sure you can trust this person?”
“His name is Scott. We’ve talked before. He wants out too. It’s like you said. There are others who want out. Everyone is scared of the Dragon, of Jacob, of the guards. But there are some who want to leave. Scott’s one of them.”
Petra didn’t like the idea of it. She had a feeling that Scott was going to want to leave with them, his payment for helping them. And she wouldn’t really have a choice in the matter. Maybe it would even be good, maybe Scott would at least have a weapon on him, and he would know the terrain around Hell Town better than she would. Maybe he had a vehicle.
“Okay. Sounds good. Are you ready?”
Audrey nodded and seemed to relax just a little now that they were ready to go. She hurried up the stairs, barely making a sound.
Petra followed Audrey up to the doorway and then into the kitchen. The kitchen was empty, the house silent. Food preparations were on the countertop next to the sink: canned and boxed goods, plates and utensils, other dishes.
Audrey closed the door to the basement, twisting the lock on the door and then closing the latch and the padlock. She turned and nodded at the door that led to the back porch. Petra followed her silently across the kitchen and then out to the long back porch. They waited there for just a moment, listening. Things were still pretty quiet with only the sounds of men working in the distance, hammers banging and battery-powered circular saws whining.
“Okay,” Audrey whispered, pointing at a line of hedges just beyond the back porch. “Wait in there. Hide. I’ll be back when everything’s clear.”
Petra nodded. She rushed down the steps and went around to the hedges, crawling between them, backed in behind them as far as she could go, hiding right next to block wall that made up the top of the basement wall.
Audrey left.
Petra waited in her hiding spot for a few minutes, listening. She thought she might hear the guard outside making rounds around the house, or maybe the guard inside the house coming out to check on the back porch. But no one came. Nothing. She slowly got her breathing under control, breathing through her mouth until her heartbeat calmed down. It was cold out here, but she had her jacket on, her hood up over her head. It didn’t feel any worse to her than the basement had. But maybe she was warmer now because she was moving around, and because she was excited. And because she was scared.
Audrey was back in five minutes, whispering: “Petra.”
Petra crawled out from behind the hedges without a word. She followed Audrey through the backyards, moving past hedges and fences, but trying to look as natural as possible.
After another block of homes they walked toward a high wooden fence that had been constructed. A Dark Angel waited there, an assault rifle in his hands. Petra tensed.
“It’s Scott,” Audrey whispered. “He’s waiting for us.”
Petra nodded.
“We’ve got to hurry,” Scott said. He was tall and lanky with a lot of acne scars on his face. His wide brown eyes were large and always shifting, never seeming to focus on Petra or anything else longer than a second. A DA symbol was carved into his forehead, his knit hat pulled down low covering most of it. The funk of body odor drifted from his skin and dark clothing, the scent of fear. “I’ve probably already been away from my post for too long now.”
“Okay,” Petra told him. “Let’s go.”
“Over here,” he said and hurried to the next section of wood fencing. It looked like pieces of plywood and particle board had been nailed over 4x4 posts, barbed wire strung on top in some places. There were metal poles driven into the ground and bracketed to the wood panels in a few spots, strengthening the fence.
Scott pulled a bottom piece of the paneling away, a two-foot-by-four-foot section. It looked like it had been nailed, but it came away easily, revealing a narrow space to crawl through. He waited with the piece of paneling in his hands. Audrey went through first. Petra followed her. Scott came through next, setting the piece of paneling back in place as best he could from this side of the fence.
Audrey motioned for Petra to get down, and she did, both of them waiting for Scott.
“Straight that way,” Scott whispered. “To those trees over there. We wait there for a minute, making sure everything’s cool.”
Audrey nodded.
“Rippers?” Petra whispered.
“None so far,” Scott whispered. “They stay away most of the time.”
“Most of the time?”
“Yeah. We shoot at them. Throw grenades. But sometimes they come back.”
“How many around here?”
“I don’t know. A lot. Parsons, another Dark Angel, told me there’s a truck at a gas station a few streets over. He saw it on patrol and hid the keys inside. He said it runs.”
“And you trust him?”
“He wants out of here as bad as we do. A lot of us do. If your people can defeat the Dragon, if we all can, then there are some of us willing to help—even from the inside.”
Petra just nodded. She wasn’t going to argue about it. Too late now. All she could do was go along with the plan. “You got any other weapons on you?”<
br />
“No. Just this.” He lifted the assault rifle in his hands.
“No pistol. Nothing I could use?”
“No. Just my knife.”
Petra thought about asking him for that, but decided not to. They just needed to get to the truck, get away from Hell Town. She wondered if Scott had a route planned out, but she didn’t bother asking. First things first.
“Okay,” Scott said. “We need to go. They’re going to miss me and Audrey any minute now.”
Scott led the way through the brush to the copse of trees. They crouched down by the trunk of the largest tree, waiting and listening. Petra saw a sentry farther down the fence, walking along a scaffolding behind the fence, watching with a rifle in his hands. He walked to the end of his scaffolding and then turned to walk the other way.
“Okay,” Scott hissed. “Let’s go.”
They ran from the copse of trees to the back of a house, and then around to the side of it. They ran up to a car in the driveway with smashed windows and flattened tires. The front door of the house was ajar with a big DA symbol painted on it.
Scott didn’t wait long. He seemed to have this route planned out somewhat, so it gave Petra hope that he had a plan later on. He glanced around, listening for a moment. A few calls from rippers sounded from somewhere else among the houses. The sounds of hammering and men working could still be heard, but it wasn’t as loud from this house.
Petra followed Scott and Audrey as they ran across the street from the house to a stand of trees, then across a front yard to the next house, keeping low as they ran. Petra could see the gas station now on the corner. It seemed like the buildings of this small town were thinning out along this road, with not much beyond the gas station in the distance.
It took a few more minutes to get to the gas station. The farther they got away from Hell Town, the bolder Scott and Audrey seemed to grow, or maybe it was desperation. Petra could imagine guards and other Dark Angels discovering that the two of them were gone.
The pickup truck was backed up to the gas station. It looked old, maybe late eighties or early nineties, with patches of rust on it and faded stickers on the back window. Most of the glass looked intact and the tires were inflated—all good signs. Scott looked around, up and down the street that stretched down toward a small store, a bar, and a small housing development to the right. The road curved sharply to the left, maybe back to the downtown area of Hell Town. Across the intersection, where dark traffic lights hung from wires, the road stretched away toward a massive field with trees in the distance.
Everything seemed clear. No sounds except for the rippers calling every so often. They didn’t seem any closer, but they were still too close for Petra.
Scott opened the driver’s door of the truck, the squeal of metal when it opened sounded so loud. Petra cringed. Scott looked for the keys. He found them and got into the driver’s seat. Audrey took Petra around the front of the truck to the passenger side. They got in and closed the door as softly as they could.
Scott stuck the key into the ignition and twisted.
Nothing.
“You said this truck worked.” Petra didn’t bother whispering anymore.
“It did.”
“The battery,” Audrey said with a frown. She looked like she was about to burst into tears, like she wanted to ring her hands in nervousness but they were too painful.
Scott tried the key again and again. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s not even clicking.”
Petra heard the sound of engines—trucks approaching. Coming fast. At that moment she realized they’d been sold out by Scott’s friend. The Dark Angels had already been here; they had either unhooked the battery or taken it. They’d probably known about their ridiculous escape plan all along. Maybe they’d even been watching them.
Scott and Audrey watched the approaching trucks through the windshield, the three trucks speeding around the sharp bend in the road to the left. Scott and Audrey tried to get out of the pickup, but the three trucks skidded to a stop in the gas station parking lot in front of them. Dark Angels jumped out of the vehicles with their weapons aimed.
The passenger door of the black van in between the black pickup trucks opened and Jacob got out, moving casually—no hurry. He was dressed in black, but there was no gun in his gloved hand. He stared at them, a cruel smile on his face. He walked toward them. Scott and Audrey remained still, their hands raised.
“This . . . this isn’t what it looks like,” Audrey said.
Jacob ignored Audrey and Scott—he looked right at Petra, the smile disappearing, eyes growing cold like a star burning out. “Get out of the truck, Petra.”
She got out and stood next to Audrey.
“Out in front of the truck,” Jacob said, barking the order. “All of you. In a line. Now.”
They followed instructions.
Jacob approached them, the Dark Angel soldiers and guards moving in closer with him, their assault rifles still aimed at the three of them.
“I think the Dragon is going to be highly disappointed,” Jacob said, shaking his head.
Petra couldn’t help feeling that Jacob was talking directly to her.
“We’ll take them to the field,” Jacob told his soldiers.
“No,” Audrey said, slipping down to the ground, all strength draining from her.
Petra didn’t bother asking what the field was—she could tell from Audrey’s collapse that it was something bad . . . something real bad.
CHAPTER 53
Ray
The van they’d gotten from the used car lot had gone down into the ditch and up the other side easier than Ray had expected; he’d just kept his foot pressed down on the gas pedal, keeping the van going. Luke was still in the back of Gil’s pickup truck, holding on to the tool box as best he could, bouncing around with the two tires in the back as the truck crawled up the other side of the ditch and then crashed through the shrubs, the Ford’s engine growling with power. Now both vehicles were on the pavement of the parking lot. The horde of rippers was coming from behind them, and from both sides. The store seemed so far away.
“Hurry, Dad!” Mike yelled.
“Mike, get up there with your dad so I can have more room,” Josh said, getting his shotgun ready, positioning himself by the sliding door.
Mike crawled up front between the seats like a spider, sitting down in the passenger seat.
Ray glanced at his son and saw the fear in his eyes. A sick feeling exploded in Ray’s stomach when he saw Mike’s eyes. It felt like he’d made a really bad choice. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this way, like he, like all of them, had made a choice that was finally going to kill them. But he’d gone along with Emma, trusting her when she said that they needed to help these people. It was like she knew there were people inside the store, people they needed.
But were there more people inside the store? Obviously there had been some people on the roof, people the Dark Angels had wanted to kill. But for all Ray knew a few people had gotten up to the roof, hiding there from the rippers for days. But deep down inside that didn’t make sense to Ray, deep down inside he was sure there had to be something pretty important inside the store to send an airplane to attack them—either supplies and food inside, or certain people the Dragon wanted dead.
Just like he wants us dead.
These thoughts raced through his mind within a few seconds, and then the rippers had come running from seemingly every direction. They had no choice but to go for the store. Would the people in the store let them in? Would they trust them? Would they think they were more Dark Angels coming to attack them? It wasn’t like they were waving a white flag as they sped toward the store across the parking lot.
Ray drove toward the front entrance. But maybe there was a way inside around back. Or was there a way to get up onto the roof?
And then the most chilling thought of all struck Ray: What if there weren’t many survivors left on the rooftop after the Dark Angels had flown by shooting
at them? What if they were all dead or dying up there right now?
There was no time to question things. They were already racing across the parking lot, driving to the front entrance. But the glass doors of the front entrance had been shattered and there was some kind of steel mesh security doors behind them. Maybe rippers had gotten in, but that way looked blocked off. Then maybe they needed to try the back of the building. Maybe there was some way they could escape back there, driving through the grass until they could get away from the mob of rippers coming.
“Dad, look!”
Ray thought Mike was pointing out the advancing rippers.
“On the roof, Dad!”
Ray saw a person up there, a woman pointing frantically to her right. Ray looked that way and saw the approaching rippers from across that street getting closer to the parking lot. Was she pointing at the rippers?
My God, lady, we see them.
“She’s pointing at the corner of the building,” Mike said. “She wants us to go that way!”
Ray had already been turning that way, but he turned the wheel a little sharper, pressing down on the gas, speeding up. Gil was right beside him, the Ford’s engine racing.
“Trust her,” Emma said from the back seat.
Ray drove the van right at the corner of the building. They raced over trash and debris, over strips of cloth pasted to the ground with dried blood, over scattered bones that crunched under their tires, past light poles with bases of concrete painted a Super Bea’s yellow.
They got to the corner, slowing down as much as Ray dared, the tires squealing, the back end sliding just a little. Ray took his foot off the brake and stomped back down on the gas pedal. A man stood at the other end of the building, twenty feet beyond an open gate to a fence that surrounded the back area of the building. He waved his arms frantically. It looked like a box truck had been parked in front of the gate before but had been moved.
“He wants us to go there!” Mike shouted, gripping the arm rest and center console, shoving his feet down like he was already bracing himself for a crash.
