by Mark Tufo
“She’s got company,” I breathed into my mic.
He sat down in a chair across from her. I could see a flickering light; I thought he might be watching a movie. He was turned slightly away from me. Autumn’s line of sight was better, but she was fixated on him. I wasn’t sure how long I could hang out there like a tethered Spider Man. She said something to him and was coming toward me, heading for the bathroom. I made sure to swing past the window; no way she could miss me; sure enough, a stutter-step. She looked directly at me and then back at her captor.
“Going to get some fresh air in here!” she called back. He waved absently toward her, engrossed in whatever he was watching. She said nothing to me as she opened the window and undid the screen latches.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
“I don’t care,” he told her. She walked into the bathroom and turned the water on. It was sufficiently loud enough to cover the sound of me pulling the screen off.
Get in there, I motioned for her to get in the bathroom.
She shook her head. “Follow me,” she mouthed. She knew I was going to be at my most vulnerable as I crawled through. “Got to get some clothes,” she called.
“You don’t need to announce everything you do. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you just shut up.” He hadn’t turned. She was slowly going back toward the bed and her closet. I quickly gained entry, doing my best to have her shield me from view. Wasn’t quite as bad as an elephant hiding behind a telephone pole, but if he even glanced this way, I’d be spotted, and Autumn would be in grave danger.
“Shit,” BT said.
I didn’t have time for whatever shit meant; I was swimming in a river of it already. I put my hand on Autumn’s shoulder and gently guided her to the side then I rushed the man. I was ten feet away, but had the element of surprise. He looked up when I’d halved the distance.
He managed to say, “Hey!” before my full force fist hit him square in the nose. The sound of the cartilage snapping was the loudest thing in the room. I ripped his headset off as he leaned back. Blood spewed up in an arc; looked a lot like wet hair flinging up from a body of water in a shampoo commercial, or a possessed water bubbler. Water was streaming from his eyes and mixing with the copious blood flow, making a frothy pink mixture on his face. He started to rise to defend himself.
“Got a .45 pointed at you; best bet would be to stay put. Harmon, grab his weapon.”
“With pleasure.”
“Talbot, Jerry’s here. Didn’t see him pull up. I’m chasing him down—he’s heading straight for you!” BT was running.
“Stenzel?”
“Got a barrel. No shot.”
“Kid is going to fuck this up.” I’d no sooner said the words when there was a frantic banging on the door. This was followed by a hollow thud. I looked over to Autumn before I put her former captor’s earpiece up to my ear.
“Clems, package at your door, pull it in before someone sees.” Heard this over the acquired headset.
“BT, stop!” I yelled into my headset. “Too late.”
“Fuck.”
“What happened? What’s going on?” Autumn knew, it was her mind’s way of running interference.
I was trying to think of what to do next. I couldn’t very well pull her dead boyfriend inside; first, because I’d be seen and, second, because it would be Autumn’s dead boyfriend. Or so I thought. There was a slight tapping at the door. I ran over, whipped the door open, grabbed his shoulder and pulled him in.
“Clems, who the fuck is that?” the shooter or the spotter asked.
I shut the door quickly, and pulled him away should they start peppering the door with bullets. Jerry’s leg was a shredded mess; he was losing blood fast. He needed a hospital and soon. Gotta give it to Harmon, she didn’t lose her shit. Grabbed one of her belts and applied a tourniquet high up on his thigh to help staunch the flow of blood.
“Stenzel, I need you to take him out.”
“I can’t shoot through metal, sir.”
“Take out his barrel.”
“I’m not Carlos Norman Hathcock II.”
I really wanted to ask who the hell that was, but Jerry was moaning up a storm and my impromptu prisoner Clems looked like he was about to make a run for it. Jerry was in trouble; the shot had been in the leg, but by the amount of blood, it looked like an artery had been hit. He had minutes. Tough to berate a kid that wanted to protect his girlfriend and was actively bleeding out, but I was pissed.
“Grimm, can you get a bead on the shooter?” He wasn’t the shot that Stenzel was, but he had a better angle, I hoped.
“He’s only got a pistol,” Stenzel reminded me. He might as well shoot it up in the air and see if it dropped down on our sniper for all the good that would do.
“Mr. T, the messenger is a dead end.”
Shit, this was going bad quickly.
Even if I sent Tommy to Collier’s room and they pulled Jerry up the same way I’d got down, they’d still need to come out. Plan B it was. “Grimm, drop the sheets. BT, Tommy, get behind the barracks; going to drop Jerry like a last-ditch fire rescue.”
“Mike, there are usually four people?” I could hear BT moving to get into position.
“Between the two of you, that’s like six people.”
“True,” BT answered.
It was five tense minutes. My gut was churning—felt like the victim of a home invasion, hiding in the closet, waiting for the police to show.
“We’re ready.”
“Harmon, you watch this piece of shit.” I put my gun away and picked up Jerry, who was nearly the shade of a fading sodium light.
I had him halfway out the window, looking down at the far too small sheet. He was with it enough to know he didn’t like this course of action any more than I did.
“Ready?”
BT was pulling his end tight. I let him go just as the sound of a gunshot was fired; I didn’t even get the chance to see if he landed unhurt—or any more hurt.
“He…he rushed me!” Autumn was standing, the gun smoking, her hand shaking. Clems, for his part, didn’t look like he’d tried to move, although he could have…might be the bullet centered between his eyes had deposited him back into his seat.
“Stenzel, get ready.” I picked up Clems’ headset. “He’s dead. You’re next.”
“Who the fuck is this?”
I always want to go with the typical movie quote, “Your worst nightmare,” or a derivative of it, but first, it only works if you get to see their expression and, secondly, with Jerry’s injury, it didn’t feel right. That, plus the shooter took the opportunity to shoot the living shit out of the room. I grabbed Autumn and dove to hide behind the bed. Glass broke out, light filtered in through new holes in the door, the walls were pocked. Six shots later, it stopped. I poked my head up; Clems had suffered collateral damage, a bullet tearing off a quarter of his head. Well, maybe we could blame the sniper for his death.
“You all right?” I asked a pissed off Harmon. A single shot was fired.
“He’s down,” Stenzel said coolly. “His spotter is standing up, surrendering. Shoot her?”
“No—right now, she’s our only link. And when did you become so hardcore?”
“He tried to hurt my commander, my friend, shot her boyfriend, and is part of a plot to destroy this base. I don’t think I’m out of line,” she replied.
“When you say it like that, I almost feel like you should shoot. Secure and get her down from there. Tommy?”
“Almost to the hospital…. It doesn’t look good.”
I stayed low to look out the window; saw a woman climbing down the ladder. Stenzel was approaching, her rifle trained on the spotter.
“All clear. Grimm, go help Stenzel round up the prisoner, bring her back to our base. I’m taking Autumn to the hospital.”
Jerry lived for another half an hour, long enough for Autumn to say her goodbyes; it was closure, but it wasn’t going to make the grieving process any easier. I
brought her back to the Barrows, to, hopefully, a secure location where she could be around friends and away from the clutches of Deneaux.
“Who do we have here?” I asked after getting Autumn settled and coming back down to the first floor. There was a woman tied to a chair, didn’t look much past twenty-five. She had close-cropped brunette hair and an uncompromising attitude.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked like a drunk celebrity might during a roadside inebriation test.
Stenzel shrugged. “She had no ID.”
“Well, I guess we don’t, so why don’t you tell us,” I said, she clammed up. “Seriously, I don’t care. You just killed the friend of one of our own, and the clock is ticking on a base-busting bomb. You tell us what we need to know or I’m done with you.”
“Big words,” she spat.
“Do I look like a librarian to you?” I asked. “A bespectacled accountant perhaps? Maybe you don’t fear pain, or even death; that’s fine. You wouldn’t be the first. But don’t for a second believe I’m not dangerous.”
She was impressive. If she had fear of any kind, she didn’t let it show. By this point, my entire squad was on the first floor.
“She looks familiar.” Kirby was walking closer to her; she lunged, but being as she was tied to a chair, she couldn’t do much. “I don’t know her…seen her on base, though.”
That didn’t help; wasn’t like I’d expected they’d recruited some off-site personnel.
“Need you to think about it,” I told him if he’d seen her at the commissary or HQ, that made a big difference. I wanted to beat answers out of her, and I’d get over the distasteful part, but the odds were high she wouldn’t know much beyond what she’d been tasked to do. The chain of command had not stopped with the severing of Lieutenant Colonel Gadsen’s figurative head.
“BT.” I waved my second in command over out of earshot of our guest.
“Come on, man.” He turned his head and pushed his arms out after listening to what I wanted to do.
“It’s our insurance policy,” I told him.
“That’s like following the tornado so you know where it hits!”
He had a point. “I want you to hold down the fort. Tommy, come on.”
Our guest was watching; wasn’t like she had a bunch of other things to do.
“It must be your birthday! I’m going to get you a gift,” I told her. Maybe she didn’t show fear but she let confusion slip.
14
Mike Journal Entry 12
“Get out of my office!” Wassau was pissed.
“Sure. As soon as I get Deneaux.”
“Are you kidding me? You just want me to give up my prisoner?” he asked.
“Oh come on, don’t go getting sanctimonious on me now. You let me and my squad escape while taking her prisoner, now you’re going to draw a fucking line?”
He opened his desk and pulled out a half-full glass.
“Why’d you even put it there?”
“You do your stupid shit, I do mine,” he explained.
“Fair enough. Sorrens, tell him what you heard.”
“I already did.”
“And how is you taking her going to change that?” Wassau asked.
“If the wall blows up, will you shoot her?” I asked.
“Of course not.”
I didn’t say anything to that.
“You can’t just go around killing people, Captain.”
“This is war, Master Sergeant. Not only can I, the command actually prefers it. How many are going to die tomorrow if she does it?”
“It’s not going to happen, because she’ll die too.”
“Not likely. Sometime before that happens, she’s going to have her people storm this jailhouse and she’s going to be taken somewhere—my guess is off-base. If there is anything worth salvaging when the ashes settle, she’ll be here to pick through the ruins. I’m not letting that crone walk upon the skulls of the people she killed.”
Sorrens was nodding like an attentive parishioner agreeing with the gospel I was preaching. Wassau downed his drink in one go; my mouth was sweet-watering of its own accord as I watched. He grabbed the bottle and poured himself four fingers worth. Completely downed it again in one go.
“What the fuck, man?” It was like watching someone mainline Moxie; I couldn’t stop watching.
“Wow, feeling somewhat buzzed. Sergeant Sorrens, I’m going to take a little nap. Could you see that I’m not disturbed?”
“Let’s go, Captain. You need to leave. Go home; we’ll talk about this later.”
Wassau sighed. “Give it a second…it’s like watching an old radio tube heat up.” Wassau was heading for his couch.
“Oh,” Sorrens replied.
“Told you.” Wassau had his back to us as he lay down.
We walked out, he shut the door quietly. “You’re not going to punch me, are you?”
“I mean, I will if you want me to,” I told him.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Tommy said, effectively fist blocking me. “Why don’t you go get the Master Sergeant some lunch?”
“He already ate.”
Tommy kept looking at him.
“Oh yeah, lunch.”
“Sorrens!” I yelled as he opened the outer door. I had my hand out. It took him a second before he tossed the key. I went back to see my most favoritest person in the entire world.
“You come to take me up on my offer?” Deneaux seemed pleased as punch.
“You know, I’ve been practicing calling you Queen all day in the mirror; didn’t work. This is my alternate plan. Caught your message delivery service and your water tower safety valve, and all have been dealt with accordingly.”
She eyed me inquisitively. “I can’t tell if you’re lying or not.”
“That’s new. Do you think I randomly came up with the water tower part though?”
“If my message isn’t delivered, the wall goes.”
“See, that’s the thing. I completely believe you in that respect. That’s why I’m taking you home. I want to make sure you’re safe from becoming a zombie. And the only way I can assure that, is to kill you if the wall falls. Bang. Bullet straight to the head, close range. No witty retort?” She had me thinking when she didn’t respond. “Damn, that was close. You would have been better off sticking to your normal routine. Tommy.” I motioned with my hand for him to follow. I was as sure of my next words as I had been about the time I asked Tracy to marry me, so, roughly fifty/fifty. “This place is under surveillance.” I didn’t pose that as a question. “My gut tells me that if we try to leave with Deneaux, we catch a bullet. The only place that has a decent bead on the front is the closed cell phone store across the street. Think you can neutralize the threat?”
“Give me a couple of minutes.” He left quickly.
“Sure wish I’d thought to bring some tape.” I went back to the holding area.
Deneaux sat on her bunk and performed her ritual. I had to wonder if smoking summoned demons for her. If that was the case, she had an army. She’d smoked the entirety of the tobacco and maybe half the filter by the time I heard from Tommy.
“I’ve circled around; the door is unlocked,” he said through my headset.
“Is there a point to this, or are you just getting your rocks off watching me locked up?” Deneaux asked.
“Of all the ways I could get my rocks offs, I’d rather crush them in a vise than spend any more time with you.”
She slowly raised the middle finger on her cigarette-clad hand. I muted my microphone before I spoke. “I thought Eliza was going to be the worst enemy I’d ever encounter in this new world. I hated her like no other. Then you went and pulled a hold my beer moment. She, I understood; she was a product of her environment, a soulless vampire who had been abused by everyone around her…makes sense, right? But you, by the sounds of it, lived a life of privilege. It wasn’t merely greed with you, or even revenge. You jumped to the head of the line with avarice, this lus
t for power; it’s insatiable. You’d never be content with just running this base, that would merely be the beginning.”
“I’m inside,” Tommy interrupted. “No one is in the back room. A lot of nice phones, though.”
I wanted to ask him to grab a couple of dozen iPhones; I’d never been able to afford the new ones when they came out, I guess it was still a sticking point for me. If he got the phones, I was going to use them for target practice, a small way for me to show my discontent for the overpriced mobile device.
“Why are you always trying to save a world that has clearly shown it would rather go up in flames?” I wasn’t listening. “People want—they need—to be controlled. Most are barely above the apes you’ve all descended from.”
“As opposed to the lizards you’ve evolved from? Glad to see you’ve been sent down from on high to be our leader, to show us the error of our ways. I can’t imagine the road you would bring us down, that trembling path…it sure wouldn’t be a benevolent one. One misstep would bring dozens of your lemon troopers. I think had you ruled the world, Stalin would have bowed at your feet.”
She continued to smoke her cigarette. It was unusual to see her slightly reserved, like perhaps I was working my way through all her plots and sub-plots. Had I won? What were the odds that I had, indeed, snuffed all of her avenues? Slim, but maybe the ones still afforded her were of the slim-chances variety.
15
Tommy
Tommy walked out of the jailhouse acting as casually as he could. He strode purposefully up the street, as far away from any prying eyes as possible. He could tell he was being watched; as one who had been a predator for so unnaturally long, it came as second nature. How little did those expecting to pounce know that they were now the ones being hunted? He let the thought slip his mind as he went a block further than he figured he needed to and cut across an abandoned field. He was a blur as he ran past all manner of discarded car parts, including an abandoned engine block. He’d either stumbled across an auto graveyard or a dumping ground for unwanted chop-shop parts. He slowed long enough to pick up a car antenna.
