by Hunt, Jack
When they reached the fifth story, Damon tapped on the window a few times to see if anyone was inside. Elliot shone his light into the apartment. The curtains were open and they could see that no one was in the living room. Another knock and still nothing that’s when Damon tried the window. It was locked. He shrugged. “Oh well, guess they’re not there.”
He brushed past Elliot and before he’d made it down one flight of steps, Elliot used his elbow to smash the window. A quick jab and shards of glass went everywhere.
“What the hell?”
“She wants in, we’re in,” he replied before lifting the window and climbing inside. Glass crunched beneath his boots.
“Hello?” Elliot called out just in case someone was inside. The last thing he wanted to do was spook them and find himself staring down a gun barrel. When there was no sound he moved in with Damon close behind. He unlocked the door and told him to go down and let the other two in. As Damon disappeared into the darkness and he heard him jogging down the steps, Elliot shone the light around the apartment. It wasn’t much to look at. A two-bedroom place, open kitchen and small living area, just enough room for a couple or three students. He walked over to a side table and picked up a photo frame. It contained a photo of a girl no older than twenty-two in a bikini on a beach alongside a beefy-looking guy. He placed it down and headed into the kitchen where he looked in the fridge. The light never came on, and all the food inside would soon spoil. He reached in and grabbed out a pack of ham. He tore it open and pulled out a few slices to chew on while he checked out the rest of the place.
Jesse was the first one in the door followed by Maggie.
“Really, Elliot? She is going to kill me!”
“Your friend probably didn’t make it,” he replied before scooping another slice of ham into his mouth.
“Don’t say that. And put that away. That’s not yours to take.”
He chuckled and tossed it on the counter. Maggie hobbled in and placed it back in the fridge. After doing so she winced in pain and gripped her leg.
“Here, let me give you a hand,” Elliot said.
“I’m fine.”
“We’ll need to stitch it up. I can do it.”
“I would rather bear the pain, thanks.”
“Suit yourself but you do need to change the bandage otherwise it will become infected. Now you want to grab your bag and we’ll head out.”
“I’m not going back to my apartment. Not with my ex on the loose.”
All three of them looked at one another. “I think you’ll be fine. Let’s go.”
“No, I’m going to wait here until they get back.”
“What about the ride?” Elliot asked.
“Um, maybe I shouldn’t have offered that.”
“So you’ve changed your mind?”
“Look, I appreciate you guys bringing me back but I don’t know you, hell, none of us know each other,” she said before taking a seat at the kitchen table. Elliot swallowed the remainder of the ham in his mouth and went over to the sink and turned on the faucet. It spat out some water, and he turned it off.
“And what happens if they don’t come back?” Elliot asked pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one up. Damon eyed them, and he tossed him one.
“Then, I…”
She had no idea. The truth was no one really did as without a means of communicating, there was no way to tell if this was isolated to New York or had affected the rest of America.
“It’s not safe to stay here.”
“I’ll be fine,” she replied.
Elliot stuck the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, reached into his bag and tossed her a bandage. “Jesse, remove the old one and use this one.”
“I can do it myself,” Maggie said acting all uppity. He shrugged and lugged his backpack over his shoulder and headed towards the door.
“Where are you going?”
Without looking back he said, “The roof. I want to get a better idea of what’s going on out there.”
“I think we already know,” Jesse said. “I haven’t seen one light on in the whole journey here.” Elliot didn’t listen to him as he headed out the front door and climbed the stairs taking two at a time. Behind him he heard footsteps, and he turned to find Damon following him. He didn’t bother to say anything. When they made it to the top floor, he pushed against the fire escape exit and walked out onto the roof. There were a few aluminum vents, and some cord strung between them as if someone had used it for laundry. It was still dark out and was closing in on one in the morning. He dropped his bag and unzipped it and Damon watched him intently. Elliot reached in and pulled out a small pair of binoculars. He lifted them to his eyes and took in the sight of Brooklyn. For as far as the eye could see it was total darkness. The only light came from the moon and stars.
“You really think it was a nuke?” Damon asked.
“No but I’m pretty sure it’s an EMP.”
“How sure?”
“A hundred percent. Vehicles and cell phones don’t just stop working when a guy hits the wrong switch,” he replied bringing the binoculars down. He took a hard pull on his cigarette and then crouched down to put the binoculars back in the bag. As he moved stuff around, Damon caught sight of the Glock 17.
“You brought a gun?”
He glanced up at him. “You sound surprised?”
“I just… why do you need that?”
“I might not need it but it’s there if and when I do.”
“How long have you been in New York?”
“A year, two months, and fourteen days.”
“Sounds like a sentence,” Damon replied.
“And when were you released?” Elliot asked. Damon shot him a glance as if confused. Elliot clarified. “I’ve met a number of people from Rikers. They all carried the same brown paper bag.”
Damon glanced down at his pocket where it was sticking out.
“I was going to tell you.”
“Doesn’t matter. None of my business,” Elliot replied glancing at him before reaching into his bag and producing a map and compass. He laid them out on the ground, placed a small flashlight between his teeth and checked a few things before folding the map back up again and squeezing it back inside.
“I did eight months inside. Cocaine possession.”
“You clean now?”
“I was never on it,” Damon said taking a seat on the edge of the building and puffing away on the cigarette. “A good friend of mine told me I was picking up parts for the garage. We run a business together back in Keene.”
“And let me guess, he forgot to tell you about what was stashed inside?”
“You seen that before?”
“In Iraq.”
“What are you, a Marine?”
“Army. I did sixteen years before I was given a medical discharge.”
“Huh!” Damon said wiping his lips with the back of his sleeve. “You know, I always thought about enlisting. Yeah, my old man was in the Marines. He was always harping on about serving the country and whatnot.”
“And?”
Damon spat over the side of the building before taking another drag. “I just never got around to it. Had me a girl back in Keene. She didn’t want me to go and Cole, my buddy, the same one that got me into this, well he had all these ideas for us to open up a shop together. I just didn’t realize he was going to run a side business.”
“Shit happens,” Elliot said. His mouth formed a smile and Damon nodded. “So you didn’t throw him under the bus?”
“I thought about it,” he said. “There were definitely days when I was inside that I contemplated speaking to a lawyer and making a plea deal where I could get a reduced sentence, but I couldn’t do it. We go way back. I know if he was in my shoes he would have done the same.”
Elliot stared into his eyes. “You sure about that?”
Damon must have become uncomfortable as he turned the topic back to his bag. “So what else you got in there?”
&nb
sp; “Basics. Walking shoes, hat to keep warm, a rain jacket, gloves, knife, multi-tool set, headlamp with spare batteries, dust mask, water and purifying tablets, blood-stopping bandage, a tarp for shelter, my Glock, first-aid kit, spare ammo, meal replacement bars, energy booster, lighter, pen and paper, paracord and duct tape.”
“You one of those prepper types?”
“Nope, just an ordinary guy taking precautions.”
Damon nodded. “You think her vehicle will start?”
“Won’t know until I see it.”
“So you got family back in Lake Placid?”
“A wife and two kids.”
“You divorced?” Damon asked.
“Nope.”
Silence stretched between them as Elliot loomed over his bag, taking inventory just to be sure no one had found it and stolen anything. He squinted as smoke from his cigarette spiraled up into his eye.
“So what brought you this way?”
The question brought thoughts to his mind of returning from his last deployment overseas. It had been more difficult than the previous three before that. He’d lost many of his close friends and had witnessed atrocities done against Americans and Iraqis that he couldn’t erase from his mind, but it wasn’t just that.
His mind snapped back to being trapped inside an armored personnel carrier after it took a direct hit from an RPG. The explosion was deafening, and then when it caught fire that’s when things went really bad. Elliot recalled being one of the last to crawl out but then realizing one of his buddies was still trapped underneath twisted metal. As they came under heavy fire, he’d slipped back in to try and get him out, but it was impossible. He still bore the burns on his arms from trying to pull him away from the hot aluminum. The agony as the flames consumed his friend was so bad that he’d asked Elliot to kill him. In a final act of mercy to end his suffering, Elliot shot him in the head. At least that’s how he saw it, he wasn’t sure if anyone else would ever understand
After that, he was never the same. It had broken something inside of him. Depression, guilt, traumatic night terrors and rage took over as he tried to deal with the grief of his death, and he quickly spiraled down into self-hatred and loathing.
He always thought he was stronger. He’d heard stories of vets suffering from PTSD but he always thought it was just in their head. Nothing more than a crutch they leaned upon after they returned to a world that no longer saw them for who they were — a soldier. He soon realized that wasn’t the case after the nightmares started. Coming to terms with being a father at home and looking for work only added to the stress.
After seeking help at the urging of Rayna and Gary, he’d started attending group therapy sessions and had even got Kong. That dog had meant a lot to him. He could sense when Elliot was losing his cool, and he had this way of calming him. Just the thought of Kong made his heart ache. He’d contemplated bringing him along to New York, but he didn’t think it was fair. Back then he could barely look after himself let alone a dog.
Still, for a time the therapy worked. He met other vets facing PTSD, and he began to feel he wasn’t alone. There were good days and bad and when it was bad, it was really bad. The nightmares were hard to endure, the vivid memories and flashbacks felt like he was reliving it all over again. Although he had the meetings, it didn’t take long before he stopped going and started to withdraw and feel emotionally cut off from his own kids and wife. Now had that been all that had happened, he might have still been in Lake Placid, but it wasn’t.
Crack!
The sound of gunfire.
Both of them whipped their heads around.
Two shots were followed by a scream. He didn’t even have to say anything to Damon, they both took off, heading back to the apartment.
Chapter 11
Elliot pulled the Glock from his bag and double-timed it across the roof with Damon right behind him. They entered the stairwell and quickly made their way down until he had the apartment door in sight. There was a large hole in the door as if someone had kicked it in. He threw up a hand to let Damon know to stop. He didn’t want to go charging in there without knowing what he was up against. Was it looters? An armed group? Hugging the wall with his back he inched his way down, hearing two male voices, one of which was Jesse’s.
“Calm down,” Jesse said.
“Is this who you’ve been screwing? Huh?” an unidentified male’s voice barked. After what she said about her boyfriend, Elliot figured he’d made his way over.
“Eric, just get out.”
“Where is that bitch?”
“Lexi’s not here.”
“You’re coming with me.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Jesse said.
“Did I tell you to speak?”
Elliot continued getting closer, his finger resting outside of the trigger. Calmly he made his way closer to the door that was partially closed, he slowed his breathing to control his nerves. It wasn’t like he hadn’t entered a building and faced off against someone who was armed. He’d done it many times in Iraq but that was then, this was now. He certainly didn’t want to kill another person, not after all he’d been through but if that’s what it came down to, then so be it.
“Just let him go, Eric. He has nothing to do with this.”
“Oh he has everything to do with this. Who else have you been screwing?”
Elliot caught sight of Jesse through the crack of the door. He got up from the couch and a large guy with a shaven head shoved him back down. “Look, man, just leave her alone.”
“Nathan, keep on him, me and Maggie are going to have words out back.”
“Hey!” Jesse said before he was whipped across the face with a gun. Shit. Two of them and at least one of them was armed. He figured the other was as well. He could still hear Maggie talking, her voice slightly muffled but clear enough to make out the conversation.
“You can forget going home. Everything you have is outside. And I mean everything. All I wanted to do was talk but you had to be the bitch.”
Elliot heard a slap, then crying.
“Do that again and I promise, I will…”
“You’ll what? Hit me? Go on. Do it. It will be the last time you do.”
Damon slipped past Elliot and took a position close to the wall on one side of the door while Elliot took the other. He knew this could go wrong and he didn’t want to risk Maggie getting hurt. Gary had told Elliot about the types of domestics he’d been called out to and how quickly things could go south. Then again, he knew he if didn’t get in there fast both of them could be harmed.
“Oh Maggie, I’m not going to harm you but your little boyfriend out there. He’s open game.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Then who is he?”
“Someone I met in Times Square when I was out with Lexi.”
“Yeah? Where is she then?”
“How the hell should I know? I was thrown into a police van. The last I saw she was making a dash for it. Before…”
“Before what?”
“Before the lights went out and a plane came down.”
The guy started laughing. “Oh that’s fresh even for you. Plane came down? Please.”
“It’s true.”
There was a thud.
She cried again as if he’d shoved her up against a wall. “Stop lying. You always fucking lie! Why did you have to change?”
“Change? You’re the one who lifted a hand to me.”
“Because you wouldn’t listen. How the hell do you expect me to get through to you when you are always yapping? Nagging? Now you’re going watch while I deal with your boyfriend. This is on you.”
“Eric, no.”
Elliot heard a commotion in the back and then another slap. That was enough. He kicked the door wide and took aim, but instead of firing off a round he shouted at the guy.
“Put it down!”
The guy was startled but not stupid enough to think he could fire off a round before Elliot pulle
d the trigger. “Okay, okay, man. Calm down.”
He watched as the guy crouched and lowered the piece to the ground.
“Elliot!”
Two rounds were fired through the door from behind it by Eric. Elliot pulled back and readjusted his position so that the wall was blocking him. That’s when he saw the guy go for the gun on the ground. “Don’t...!” Before he could spit the rest of the words out, Elliot unloaded a round into him, followed by a second. The first round caught him in the chest, and the second hit him in the abdomen. His body twisted and dropped. From inside the apartment he heard the other guy cry out.
“Nathan!”
Eric ran into view, dropping his handgun on the ground beside him so he could scoop up the guy on the floor. He rocked him in his arms. “No. No. No. Nathan. Nathan!”
He didn’t die immediately, blood trickled out the corner of his mouth and he coughed a few times trying to say something to Eric. Then, quickly his eyes glazed over and he was gone.
Shit, he thought.
Elliot moved in fast and kicked away Eric’s gun while keeping his own weapon trained on him. Jesse was quick to retrieve Nathan’s weapon while Damon went and got the other one.
“Nathan,” he said, his voice becoming softer with the realization that he was dead. He ran his hand over his hair, a bloody mess, causing it to become matted. Eric turned his face towards Elliot, tears streaking his cheeks. “You just killed my brother.”
