“Roger.”
The men were jumping to their feet, wired. “Okay, nobody do anything stupid. Be alert, but do not fire unless fired upon.” He hopped to the ground. Pain lanced up his leg. “Understand me?”
They nodded. A few looke about ready to pee their pants.
“Do it like you trained.”
They moved in, checking the doors, unlocked. They disappeared inside. Mannie limped forward gripping his AR-15 comfortably ready. He hadn’t wanted to be ready for this ever again. He paused. Listening carefully as his men, his kids, went to work.
“Major?”
Mannie heard the word, but it was a few moments before he realized the word was directed at him. They’d walked right into the power plant, no problems, no opposition. Part of him would be happy if this wasn’t a trap. None of these kids would die. The other part of him, comprised mostly of ego, realized that the only reason this wasn’t an ambush, is nobody fucking thought they were a threat worth neutralizing. “Yes. What is it?”
“We found the controls to switch the power across.”
“And?” Mannie stared at the uniformed kid in front of him. He didn’t even look like he’d finished puberty. Had he lied or was Mannie just old enough to think that 18-year-olds were still little kids?
“Wanted you to know, Major.”
“Shit, kid. I’m no more Major than you are an experienced soldier.”
The kid’s eyes fell.
“Look. Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Switch it over. On my order. Then let’s get back to Provo and see if there is anything left.”
Lizzie had chosen the Provo River Parkway as the best way to get close to Provo undetected. It was a strip of forested city park land that ran like an avenue up to the walls of New Provo. At least most of the way. They would have good cover to mount their rescue from here and then make a quick getaway. Lizzie wondered if this had been one of her father’s parks before his duties moved more to larger issues.
“Drop your weapons.”
Lizzie glanced at Duke. Evidently, they were not the only ones who had considered the ease of access southward through the park.
Duke shrugged, but didn’t drop his rifle.
She fanned the darkness with her weapon. “Why?” Lizzie asked, taking her cue from Duke.
“Why?” The voice laughed, a touch of madness in it. “Because you’re surrounded. But it’s your lucky day, this ambush isn’t for you. If you drop your guns, you can be on your way.”
“Then we’ll just keep walking,” Lizzie offered.
“Not with guns in your hands.”
“You’re probably just one guy trying to scare us.”
“Seriously?” The bushes rustled to Lizzie’s left but she still didn’t see anyone in the dark. “Guys. Say something. Sound off names.”
From all around Lizzie heard voices.
“Stamper. Jones. Williams.” The list continued. She heard at least a dozen voices and names. Some of the voices were female. So, not the Provo Militia.
“Shit.” She set her rifle on the ground as Duke did the same.
“All right, put your hands in the air. Real high.”
They did as they were told.
“Evening, folks.” A young man with a toothpick in his teeth came out from behind the tree. “What’s a nice couple like you traveling around armed to the teeth.”
“Who are you waiting to ambush?” Lizzie retorted.
“None of your business, little lady.”
“And it’s your business, old man?” she watched the young man, barely sporting a patchy brown beard. He’d probably been growing it for years.
They were under guard in a small clearing next to a parking lot off the greenbelt. The good news was the power had come back on. Under the single light post, Lizzie could see a half dozen cars littering the lot, which clearly hadn’t been worth collecting.
The man holding the gun on them was sweating despite the cold.
“I’m not the bad guy you think I am.” He said, sounding like a whiny child. “Not that I’m a particularly good man, but I’ve done what I needed to survive.”
Lizzie nodded. Maybe she could win him over. “Most of us have.”
Sensing her strategy Duke asked, “So, what’s in store for us after this? Line us up and shoot us? Buddy, we are no different from you. What’s to stop them from putting you in this position one day?
“Well, at the moment, I’m not going to do anything except keep you here. Boss’ orders.”
There was movement out in the dark woods. Lizzie sensed that more people had arrived, but no fighting broke out. Must be more Independents. She heard some whispers and then someone approached where Lizzie and Duke were being held.
“Lizzie?” A woman's voice said softly. A familiar voice. “It's Kylie.”
“Cougar woman?” Lizzie asked, incredulously. How did this woman keep showing up in her life? “Should have known you would be behind this.”
“Right. More like beside it. I think you give me too much credit. I’m here on personal business. Need to make certain things happen. What the upper echelons do is their business.” Though Lizzie and Duke had already been searched, Kylie patted her down for good measure.
Lizzie jerked away. “How the hell do Independents have upper echelons—didn’t you say they’re an anarchy?”
Kylie snorted and settled against the hood of the nearest car. “More like an army of stray cats and dogs.” She stared out into the parking lot as though waiting for someone. “Some of us don’t take to herding well.”
A man with a spotter scope in his hands came into the clearing. “He's coming,” he hissed.
Lizzie glanced over at Kylie, who held a finger to her lips. Her crossbow nestled in her hand and her rifle leaned up against the car in front of her.
Three men entered the parking lot, coming toward the woods and Kylie’s crossbow. Lizzie opened her mouth to shout a warning, but Kylie’s crossbow drifted in Duke’s direction. Lizzie’s mouth hung open. Seconds stretched into centuries.
Lizzie recognized a face—skin-headed now instead of blond surfer dude hair, but instantly recognizable.
Travis.
Duke’s eyes went wide. He stood up, grabbed the rifle from the startled man who’d been holding it on them, and raised it to his shoulder.
Travis stopped and stared. His gun rose.
Duke fired as answering muzzle flashes spewed from Travis’ gun.
A rat-a-tat echoed through the parking lot. Lizzie ducked and flattened herself behind the car. It shook as bullets hit it.
Duke didn’t take cover. He kept shooting. Bullets rocked his body. Blood spurted from his shoulder.
Lizzie flung herself to her feet and barreled into Duke, taking him down behind the other car.
“You stupid son-of-a-bitch,” she yelled.
He plastered on a smile. His eyes rolled upwards.
“Duke!” Lizzie tore his jacket open. “You’re bleeding all over the place.”
“Did I get the asshole?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care. You stupid fuck. Who do you think you are? Arnold fucking Schwarzenegger?”
“You’re pretty.”
“Somebody help me, please,” she yelled. The gunfire had stopped. There were other voices of pain.
Two of the boys in army surplus gear ran over with a medical kit. One spread out the kit, as the other pushed her aside. “Pressure here,” he ordered and the other guy pressed the bloody spot on Duke's chest.
The confrontation had paused, but wasn’t over.
“Drop it, Travis.” Kylie yelled. “We’ve got you covered.”
“What the Hell? Dickhead shot me.”
“Travis,” Lizzie spat the name out. She scooped up the fallen rifle; stood, aimed and fired at Travis' stomach. He fell backwards.
Kylie jerked the rifle from her hands. “He was mine, you little bitch.”
“He was mine first.”
“He killed my son. I wante
d him to stand trial.” Lizzie saw the raw grief on the woman’s face and knew her pain.
“Sorry.” Shoving aside Kylie’s attempt to stop her, Lizzie ran back to Duke, collapsing to her knees by his side. His hand grasped for hers, she held it to her. “I’m so sorry I dragged you to Utah, Duke.” This was all her fault.
“Yeah, me too. But I’d be a hell of a lot sorrier if I’d never met you.” He grinned, his teeth bloody. “Wouldn’t’ve missed it for the world.”
Damn. She wished she’d been able to come up with something more than just friendship for Duke. He deserved it. He’d saved her life, helped her through some really dark spots and what had she done? Spurned him. Friend-zoned him.
Duke laughed, spitting bloody phlegm. “Stop being sorry, Lizzie. Just be you.”
The two medics backed off.
“No. No. No. No. Save him!” She threw herself across him, wrapping him in her arms as if she could confuse Death until he left him alone.
“They can't.” Duke squeezed his eyelids together. His whole face scrunched up in pain. Then he breathed. His mouth shaped like an O, his breath came out in bursts. “Can you do something for me Lizzie?”
“Sure.” Lizzie’s fingers touched his face. The blood on her fingers left red marks on his skin.
His eyes again squeezed shut as he dealt with the pain. “Tell Aubri I’m sorry. Will you give her something?”
Lizzie swallowed the lump in her throat. “Of course.”
“You’ve got to promise.”
“Don’t die and you can give it to her yourself.”
His body convulsed. “Promise,” he groaned.
“Fine. I promise.”
“Come closer,” his voice was barely a whisper.
“Give her this.” His hand rose toward Lizzie, but it was empty. He pulled her head his, kissing her. His kiss was hard and full of life at first. Then his hand fell away and his lips softened.
Tears spilled from her eyes onto his face. He stared up at the sky as his eyes emptied and his body slumped. “Goddammit. Why do I always have to fuck things up so totally?” She kissed his lips.
“He's gone.” The medic said.
“I know.” Lizzie pushed herself to her feet and crossed to Travis. The other medic bent over him. By some miracle he was still alive. The medic was still frantically laboring over him, though his gut was destroyed. Kylie’s son, and Mr. Ray might get their justice after all.
Travis sneered through his pain. “Come to kiss me too, darlin’?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Kylie said, crouching off to the side and kissing a small pendant around her neck. “For you, my boy.”
The medic started an IV and handed the bag of fluids to the other soldier to hold high.
“Was that your stupid boyfriend?” The voice rattled with liquid. “I had to take him out. Didn’t think he’d make it so easy.”
“I should have killed you when I had the chance, you evil son of a bitch.”
“You still don’t get it.” Travis grimaced.
“Get what, asshole?” Lizzie shook him by the shirt collar.
“Let go,” the medic ordered. “You’re gonna kill him.”
“I'm the gun,” Travis muttered, as his head lolled. “Just the gun,” he cackled.
“What do you mean?” Kylie stepped forward, pushing Lizzie. “Let him go. I need to know what he means!”
Travis reached up and squeezed Lizzie’s breast roughly with his bloody fingers. “Nice tits.”
Lizzie shoved him away from her. “Fucking asshole”
Travis’ head thudded against the ground. He leered at Lizzie as his eyes rolled up in his head.
The medic moved in, checking his pulse. “He’s dead,” he said, shocked.
Kylie cried out in rage.
Chapter Thirty-Four
ZACH HAD FALLEN INTO A half-awake stupor until the transport slowed, rolling back into Provo, passing through a gap in the finished wall of vehicles.
Well-armed men stood ready, dressed more like soldiers and less like cowboys than the Indies back on the train. Inside the ring of the wall, the streetlights glowed, so power was back on, at least.
All troops were coming back to Provo, by order of Colonel Foote. It was the only reason Zach had come back without a fight. If Foote was still in charge, there was hope.
Zach stood up from the bench on the back of the transport vehicle. He felt weird without his rifle, they had taken it away—a temporary measure he was assured. It had been a part of him much of the last few weeks and especially the last few days. Not having the weight of it, made him feel too light.
He didn’t know how he felt about the new government, though they were taking extraordinary measures to make it seem like business as usual, but he knew what he wanted. He swung himself down to the ground. His eyes scanning, looking. Then he saw Nev, standing in the glow of a streetlight, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. His feet hit the ground and he ran to her.
Nev stepped forward tentatively, tears of joy flowing down her face.
She met him halfway and jumped up into his embrace. He spun her round and round; refusing to let go or set her down.
“I love you, Nevaeh.”
“Shut up and hold me, Zach.”
Mannie pulled the door open, not bothering to knock.
Colonel Foote stood in an at-ease stance, facing out the window overlooking the square. “Mannie?”
“Sir,” Mannie replied. Foote didn't look back.
“We've got some things to do.”
“Like quit?” Mannie said.
“No. I'm not a quitter. I'd fight if I thought it made any sense.”
Mannie stared at Foote in disbelief. “You're working with them?”
Foote nodded, his lips pursed. “With Mr. Ray gone, what else are we going to do? They don’t seem to be interested in changing much.”
“But that’s my concern. What are they interested in then?”
“Control of our resources, I think.” Foote put his hand on Mannie's shoulder. “We don't have a lot of choice.”
Mannie's jaw clenched. Switching allegiance wasn’t his style. But the idea of allegiance to DiSilvio grated on him. “What about DiSilvio?”
“They've taken the title of Governor back from DiSilvio.” Foote returned to his desk and straightened a stack of papers. “Still have the same paperwork to do. Our rank is the same. We report to the same people. We get to do as we've been doing, but we're part of the new Provisional government.”
Mannie chuckled. “The new New Provo Provisional Government?”
A smile lightened Foote's face for a moment, then his frown returned. “Back to the message I just got.”
“Yes, sir.” Mannie saluted him. Looked like he was switching allegiances, for now.
“One of the squads of Independents is bringing in your daughter and two bodies. Their man is holding Elizabeth in custody.”
“Shit.” Mannie sat down hard on the wooden chair. Worry and relief conflicted in him. He was worried about her status as a prisoner. Worried she would blame him for everything. After all, he’d interfered with her plans by sending Carillo after her. If her boyfriend died because of him, she probably wouldn’t be in the forgiving mood. But immensely relieved that she was safe.
“I’m sorry.”
“What the hell is going on?”
“They're charging her with obstructing the law.” Foote grimaced. “Duke Madison, too, but apparently he's paid his debt to society.”
“Help me,” Mannie said, “please.”
Lizzie walked back into Provo surrounded by guns. If Kylie couldn’t make Travis pay for her son’s death—Lizzie would do so in his place. Her strides lengthened as she saw Saj on Rachael’s hip, feet slipping in the slush. “Saj!” His little face lit up.
A hand held her shoulder to keep her from running away from her escort, but they didn’t stop Rachael from running past them and throwing her arms around Lizzie’s neck.
Saj squirmed
in Rachael’s arms, twisting around. “Sissie,” he cried.
Lizzie smothered him with kisses. “Don’t worry, Sissie will be okay. Everything’s gonna be all right, Saj.” It would be. She knew. “I won’t leave you again.”
Tears filled Rachael’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lizzie. We waited for your call as long as we could.”
“I won’t let you down, Rachael. We are still on. Be ready.”
One of her guards did not like the sound of Lizzie’s cryptic message and shoved her in the shoulder. They pushed her on, leaving Rachael behind, hauling Lizzie’s ass to jail for a second time since she’d arrived in Utah.
Her plans were not over, just postponed. The guards hauled to another cell, as soon as the door slid shut, they left, promising to tell her dad that she was here.
The empty cell held nothing of interest. At least it wasn’t the one she’d visited Travis in. The last cell she’d been locked in had more character. No magazines this time, but at least this one had a toilet in its own little room. No door, but a semblance of privacy.
She sat back down on the bed and blew out a long suffering sigh. The mattress, with its tough, plasticized cover, sank almost imperceptibly, solid and hard beneath her body. The one amenity was a rocking chair. She scoffed at it. What a ridiculous piece of furniture for a jail cell.
After a minute she sat in it, rocking herself to keep from going completely loco. Last time she’d been locked up it had been half a day and felt like two. A few hours were already feeling like a few years. Why hadn’t he come to spring her yet? Was he mad at her? She heard them say he was back in town, along with just about everyone else.
Except Duke.
Fresh tears sprang to her eyes.
The door, with its skinny wire reinforced window clicked. Someone was coming.
The door opened and a woman stepped in. Blood rushed to Lizzie’s head. Aubri. Not who Lizzie expected.
“Hi,” Aubri said, letting the door close behind her. “Heard you were coming back.”
Deserted Lands (Book 2): Straight Into Darkness Page 29
