by Victor Zugg
Sam had only gone a few yards when he heard a man’s shout pierce the sound of the rain. Sam recognized Frank’s voice. He shouted Sam’s first and last name. Then Sam heard Chet’s first and last name, and then Tiff’s. This continued, one name after another.
Sam resumed his trek, followed by Chet and Tiff, toward the school until he came up to the tree line on the east side of the red brick building. He then inched along the wall to the rear of the building and then along the back wall, west, toward the police department. Sam kept one eye and one ear focused on the dark, wide-open field to his left as he eased along the wall. At the school’s southwest corner he peeked around the edge. This gave him a direct view of the police department’s front entrance. Frank stood in the parking lot, a few yards in front of the portico and main doors. A bunch of his men stood beside him. Sam couldn’t count the number of people in the dark, but there were a lot, possibly all of his men.
Frank continued shouting Sam, Chet, and Tiff’s names over and over until finally he stopped. He took a few steps forward.
“If you can hear me,” Frank yelled, “know this. I will execute one of your friends each hour until you show yourselves. The hour starts now.”
Frank turned back to his men. In a lower tone, that Sam could still hear, Frank said, “If they don’t show or if they can’t hear me, I guess they will run out of friends in about five hours.”
His men laughed.
Frank entered the police department building, followed by most of his men. Eight men remained outside. After a few seconds, four of the men stepped off and disappeared around the corner of the building, out of Sam’s sight.
Sam turned back to Chet and Tiff and motioned for them to backtrack. Five minutes later they were back at the Hummer.
Sam laid his rifle on the hood of the Hummer and rubbed the full length of his face with both hands. “What I wouldn’t give for a suppressor for my rifle. We could take out eight of his men with little noise. Starting with the four in the back.”
Tiff rested the butt of her rifle on her hip. “Dad forgot to take his bow out of the Hummer when you guys got back.”
Sam jerked his head and focused on the dark shape of Tiff’s face. “Can you shoot that thing?”
“I was taught by the best,” Tiff said. “I can hit what I aim at.”
“Wait a minute,” Chet said. “The first one of them that goes down with an arrow in his chest, the rest of them will take cover and start shooting.”
“Which will bring all of his men to the rescue,” Sam said. “That’s what I’m counting on.”
“Why the bow?” Chet asked. “Why not just shoot one of them with a rifle?”
“They won’t know where the arrow came from,” Tiff said. “No muzzle flash; no noise.”
“Right,” Chet said.
“Shoot the guys in back of the building, but be sure to leave at least one alive so there’s someone left to shoot their rifle,” Sam said.
Sam saw the whites of Tiff’s teeth and envisioned her smiling.
“Okay, Tiff shoots one or two, others start shooting, the rest come running, and then what?” Chet asked.
“If enough rush to the rear in search of Tiff, you and I enter the front, kill whoever’s left if we need to, and free the guys,” Sam said. “And we have less than an hour to put this together.”
Chet massaged the back of his neck with both hands. Finally, he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “Why not?”
Sam turned to Tiff. “Grab your bow and work your way around to the rear, through the trees. Head north to the highway, west past the turn off, and then back south through the woods. You’ll end up facing the back side of the police department. Chet and I will stage behind the school. When we hear shooting, and enough of Frank’s men rush to the back, we’ll go in the front, free the guys, and scurry back to the Hummer. When you are done shooting, get back to the Hummer as soon as possible.”
Sam took the Hummer’s ignition key from his pocket and held it up for Tiff and Chet to see. He bent down and slid the key under the front of the left rear tire. “In case the guy with the key doesn’t make it back.”
“And if I get cut off?” Tiff asked.
“Work your way back to the Best Western we passed on the way in,” Sam said. “We’ll be waiting in that clump of trees across Tinker Lane, a little east of the motel. If sun up comes and you’re not there, we’ll have to relocate. But we’ll be back at dark.”
Tiff nodded. She stepped to the back of the Hummer and returned with the bow, five arrows on a mounted rack, and her backpack. “I have some food, water, and extra ammo in here.” She slid an arm through the strap, slung the pack onto her back, and then slid the other arm through the other strap. She then picked up the bow and her rifle.
“Any questions?” Sam asked.
“No,” she said, as she took some steps headed north. “I’ll start shooting as soon as I get to a good spot. Figure fifteen minutes.”
Sam nodded. “We’ll be ready. Oh, and one more thing.”
Tiff stopped and looked back at Sam.
“Number one priority is you,” Sam said. “Abort everything if it will put you in jeopardy. I mean it, Tiff.”
Tiff nodded, turned, and continued walking. After only a few steps she was lost to the darkness.
Chet grabbed his backpack and picked up his rifle. “Are you sure about this plan?”
“I’ve never been less sure about anything in my life,” Sam said.
CHAPTER 17
Tiff worked her way through the trees, crossed Chestnut Hill Road to the north, and then crossed it again to the west. She reentered a thin stand of trees on the west side of Chestnut, and began working her way south, toward the rear of the police department. Despite the sound of the rain hiding any noise she might make, she stepped carefully through the wet leaves and twigs. She stopped every few steps to look and listen. After a few minutes, she crept up to a large tree trunk surrounded by a stand of young spruce. She estimated the distance to the building at only forty yards.
Movement led Tiff’s eyes to four dark blobs standing against the back wall, apparently trying to get some cover from the rain.
She leaned her rifle against the tree and then raised the bow. She pulled an arrow from the rack of five arrows mounted to the bow. She placed the arrow on the rest and strung the nock. She then looked for a target. The blobs weren’t moving much which was good and bad. Not moving provided an easier target, but it also made the target harder to pinpoint in the darkness and rain. She waited.
After a full minute she saw a small flame come to life which briefly lit the face of the center blob. The flame went out after a second, leaving only a faint red point of light. A cigarette.
Tiff raised the bow, pulled back on the string, and took aim at the cigarette’s tip. She adjusted her aim a hair for the light breeze and rain, and then released the arrow. She heard a thud, and then a second later she heard a howl. The dark blobs began dancing around as the cigarette fell to the ground. Tiff heard a string of obscenities from the blobs as she placed another arrow. She pulled back, aimed, and released. Another thud, and another howl.
She grabbed her rifle, slowly stepped back into the foliage, and then scrambled to her left thirty feet. She then stepped back to the tree line and took cover behind a small tree. She saw one of the blobs take a few steps out into the open field, apparently trying to get an idea of Tiff’s position. She couldn’t make out a rifle, but presumed he had one.
Tiff raised her bow, placed an arrow, pulled, aimed, and released. A few seconds later she saw the blob crumple to the ground. Then booming gunfire from the fourth man started. Tiff saw muzzle flashes lower to the ground and presumed the man had taken cover. She heard rounds strike tree trunks and branches around her, but none came close.
Since her part of the plan was over, she picked up her rifle and back-stepped into the foliage, being sure to keep a tree trunk or two between her and the gunfire. Forty feet back, she turned a
nd galloped north, weaving around trees and brush. She exited the trees close to the main highway and crossed Chestnut. When she was about to cross Chestnut again, she heard a barrage of gunfire from the direction of the department building. Apparently, Sam’s plan worked to some degree, but she didn’t know if it worked enough to attract the number of people needed for the plan to have a chance to work.
***
Sam and Chet stood at the southwest corner of the school building, the closest point to the police department building that provided solid cover and an escape route. He gazed through the dark and rain at the front of the department building and saw four human shapes near the front door.
He ran the numbers through his head. They originally saw twenty men, including Frank, plus the three drivers. That was a total of twenty-three, that he knew of. There might be more. There were four men in the front, and probably at least four men guarding the rear of the police department. That left fifteen men inside the building. Sam figured his plan had a chance of working if all but four men, maybe five, left the building and went to the rear. And even if that happened, Sam figured he and Chet would only have two minutes, tops, to get in and get out.
Sam estimated it had been about fifteen minutes since Tiff left. There should be some activity soon. He had all the confidence in the world in Tiff’s abilities and determination to do what needed doing, even when risks were high. She had proven it time after time. He felt the same about Chet. Sam wondered about this plan and his decision to risk his two best friends in the world for people he had only recently met. He knew it was the right thing to do, but was it the smart thing? Sam caught himself and took a deep breath. It was too late to worry about such matters. He had already committed himself, and his friends, to the job. He just hoped it wouldn’t end badly.
Gunfire brought Sam’s attention front and center. It sounded like only one rifle firing from the back of the department building. Sam hoped that meant Tiff had gotten all but the one.
The four guys at the front of the building reacted to the gunshots, but they didn’t move from their post. A few seconds later, the front door was slung open and a group of dark shapes rushed out the door.
He couldn’t be sure, but he estimated that possibly ten people came out the door. That left five inside. Sam just needed for all of these guys to run around back.
Sam heard some talking and then saw most of the men run toward the building’s southwest corner. They disappeared around the side. Three dark shapes remained at the door.
Sam held his hand up for Chet to see and then displayed three fingers. There was only one thing on Sam’s mind. There was no way they could get through these three guys without firing, and firing even three shots would bring the rest of Frank’s men. Sam and Chet could get in the building, but they probably wouldn’t be able to get out. Shit.
Chet moved up to the corner and peeked around Sam’s shoulder.
Sam stepped back from the edge and whispered the situation.
Chet stuck his head out for a quick peek and then jerked back. “We can take out these three, maybe a few more that come around the corner, and then retreat.”
“That won’t save Hank and the others,” Sam said.
Chet nodded his head. “I know.” Chet took another look around the corner. “If we’re going to do it, we need to do it now.”
Sam heard more firing from the back of the building, from multiple weapons. “Now,” Sam said, as he whipped around the corner, shouldered his weapon, and fired at the dark shapes. Two went down. The third went down with a shot from Chet.
“Cover me from here,” Sam said. “I have a plan. When they come around that corner, start shooting. When they pinpoint your position, get out of here. If you have to move the Hummer, we’ll meet at the Best Western.”
Chet nodded and then moved to the corner of the building. He swept his rifle left to right, from the southeast corner of the police department building to the southwest corner. He motioned for Sam to go.
Sam took off running toward the front door of the police department. He burst through the opening and immediately swept the room with his shouldered rifle. Empty. He moved toward the hallway that led to the offices and the back of the building, with the two jail cells. A dull light emanated from the back. Candle or lantern maybe. Sam had just turned into the hall when he heard gunfire from the front of the building. That would be Chet, he thought. Then he heard a barrage of return fire. Sam knew he had only seconds to make this thing work.
He eased forward, rifle at the ready. He didn’t have time to check the side offices. He would have to hope all five guards were with Hank and the others. Despite all the firing, Sam had the element of surprise. The guards would not expect an intruder.
Sam saw a shadow move, and then saw a man pass in front of where the hallway opened into the back room. Sam froze. He heard talking, something about joining Frank outside. Sam eased forward, one stealthy step at a time.
Sam had a thought. He lowered his rifle, lowered his chin, and started walking casually as though he were returning from outside. He stepped into the back room and quickly calculated the situation. Only four men, all standing, two held a rifle, the other two had holstered pistols. Hank and the others were locked in one cell. The other cell was full of boxes and bags of food.
The four men looked up.
One glanced at Sam. “What’s happening out—“
That’s all he got out of his mouth before Sam raised the barrel of his rifle and pulled the trigger twice. He then covered the other three men before they could point their weapons. “Guns,” Sam said, “on the floor, now. Don’t hesitate.”
The man with the rifle tossed the weapon onto a sofa a few feet away. The two remaining men with pistols moved their hands slowly, as though they were going to obey the order.
Sam recognized defiance in both the men’s eyes.
Sam pulled the trigger twice for each man. They both crumbled to the floor.
The man still standing looked stunned.
“Keys,” Sam said.
“They’re in the top drawer of that desk,” Hank said, as he pointed through the cell’s bars.
Sam scurried to the desk while keeping the one man covered, opened the drawer, and retrieved the keys. He tossed them to Hank. “We don’t have a second to lose.”
At that moment, Sam realized the firing outside had stopped. He tried to remember when it had stopped. Ten, fifteen seconds, maybe less.
“On your knees,” Sam said, as he motioned to the man still standing. The man started to kneel.
Sam flipped his rifle around and clocked the man in the temple before he got to his knees. Lights out. The man dropped to the floor just as Hank got the cell door open.
Sam heard footsteps, men talking. A lot of men. They were coming in the front door. Sam motioned at the two rifles on the floor, the pistols, and another bunch of rifles in the corner. “Grab what you can carry. May need them.”
Everyone scooped up the weapons, and everyone moved to where Sam pointed, except Bill.
Bill paused over the unconscious man on the floor, fired two quick rounds from his rifle into the man’s chest, and then joined the rest of the group.
Sam watched Bill pull the trigger and then pursed his lips.
“One less to come after us,” Bill said.
Sam nodded and then led everyone to the back of the room, down a short hall, and to a door that opened out the rear of the building. Sam had used this door for a similar purpose not that long ago. Sam tried the handle. Locked. He didn’t have time to mess with keys, so he leveled his rifle at the lock and fired multiple times until the door finally swung open. Sam motioned everyone out the door. “Head straight to the main highway,” Sam whispered to Hank as he passed. “Meet you there.”
As Hank and the others filed out the door and down the stairs, Sam stepped back toward the room, leveled his rifle, and waited for movement in the hall. He waited only a second before he saw a man approach the opening. Sam opene
d up on the man and then shot a few more rounds through the wall, hoping to get lucky.
Sam then turned, sprinted out the back door, down the stairs, and north across the open field. Hank and the others were only forty yards ahead, just entering the tree line.
Sam ran for all he was worth. He was only a few feet from the trees when he heard shots from the building. He then heard a few rounds smack limbs and tree trunks, but none came close. He scrambled into the foliage, caught up with Hank, and then raced on. As he passed, he whispered for them to follow, stay low, and to hurry it up.
Sam knew Frank would be hopping mad. Eight of his men dead or wounded, plus the ones Tiff shot with the bow. That still left a sizable force, and that force would be on the war path. Frank likely saw Sam running north just before he entered the tree line. That’s the direction Frank would search. He’d get most of his men in the three vehicles and tear out to the main road. Sam had to get Hank and the others across Chestnut as fast as possible. But even if they all made it to the Hummer, getting out of the area without being heard or seen would be a problem.
One step at a time, Sam told himself, as he came up on Chestnut. He slid to a stop, took cover behind a tree, and tried to listen. The stomping through the forest in the dark, by the men behind him, made a lot more noise than Sam would have liked.
Sam shushed everyone to be quiet. They settled, took a couple of deep breaths, and then were quiet. Sam heard doors slamming and engines starting. He knew the entire road out to the main highway would be lit from the headlights in a matter of seconds.
Sam turned back to Hank and the group. “As fast as you can, cross the road, and into those woods,” he said, as he pointed. “Don’t stop until you are at least fifty yards in. Go now.”
One at a time, with less than a second interval, the group scurried across the road, and kept running.
Sam brought up the rear and had just crossed the road when he saw the area getting lighter. He glanced to the right and saw headlights through the trees. He barreled on, hoping he could get across the open ground before being seen. If spotted, it would get dicey.
