The Devil Dog Trilogy: Out Of The Dark

by Boyd Craven III

That was when she wiped her hand on my shirt and laughed, darting to the end of the rows and inside the last stall. Seemingly, she disappeared. I followed, looking at the goo on my shoulder and when I got to the stall, I smiled, forgetting her prank. There was a long trapdoor propped up and a staircase leading down. I looked at the door a moment and saw that the side that would face up when closed was covered with a rough, muddy colored carpet. It was cut to fit in such a way that the wood wouldn’t flex if you were to step on it, but I doubted a horse could walk on it without going through. Still…

  “Come on,” a voice said from the depths of the staircase.

  I went down, curious. The staircase was made out of concrete and what looked like polished fiberglass walls with two ninety degree turns. In all, I guessed we were twenty to thirty feet underground by the time I’d made it to the bottom. I stopped and admired what looked like a semicircular stainless steel blast door that was open a couple of feet, with Courtney hanging onto the inside of it.

  “This place is cool,” she said, the excitement evident in her voice.

  I nodded and followed her in. On the back side, the door had hydraulics in place to quickly assist in the opening or closing of the door, and that was a bit of a surprise. The door was thick, but I hadn’t thought it was 100% metal, but evidentially it was, or damned heavy. The walkway in front of us was circular, or more semi-circle. If a twenty feet diameter tube had been cut in half, that’s what the rest of the hallway looked like, but more of the polished fiberglass look with lightbulbs in wire cages every ten feet along the ceiling. It was about thirty feet long, and at the far end, it opened up, but I couldn’t make it out because of the brightness of the area.

  “Look, this is their… storehouse?” I asked, motioning to the steel racks that lined both sides of the walkway.

  They were stuffed full of boxes of clothing, spare blankets and pillows, and case upon case of freeze-dried food. A further ten feet down, was almost an entire floor to ceiling shelf, full of home-canned foods. Then another shelf had medical supplies… I turned and the opposite side of the hall was just as diverse in supplies as anything else.

  “I’ve never seen so much food…” Courtney said slowly, letting her fingers trail across boxes of supplies as she walked toward the opening.

  I gave up my own gawking and went to the end of the hallway, and looked. It opened up into a circular room that was at least fifty feet in diameter. Other hallways, like the one we’d left, went out in eleven other directions. After a moment, I realized that this was like a central hub and the hallways were the spokes. It was like being inside a great big wheel. I took a few steps forward, turned around and looked again. The number ‘12’ was painted above the opening. I turned and one through eleven were painted in a clockwise manner. This didn’t look like any government bunkers I’d ever seen, and I supposed it had to have been a commercial or custom bunker.

  The cost of this had to have been astronomical, and all the supplies… I was spinning around, trying to take it all in when Courtney nudged me and pointed. Near three o’clock, were several couches set up in a U shape and kids, ranging from early teens to young adulthood, were jumping up and down and shouting at each other. I couldn’t quite make it out, but I heard about free parking, so I surmised it was a heated game of Monopoly. I couldn’t help but smile.

  The ceiling didn’t have the bulbs in cages like the hall we’d left. It was recessed lighting and the walls and ceilings were the same high gloss white fiberglass material. It actually made the room a lot brighter than I thought it would. A kitchen and long bar with stools on both sides took up another section. The last third of a section had tables, chairs, and on one old wooden bench, what looked like radio gear with two men sitting in front of it.

  “What are you doing down here?” A young voice startled me, and I spun.

  For half a second, I thought it was Maggie, but I caught myself before I could turn it into a bad situation.

  “Hey Mel, we came down here to check out the radio. What are you doing?” I asked her.

  She turned a little red, the biggest giveaway was her ears. They were almost purple with the flush.

  “Is it that Billy Stevens I heard the girls talking about?” Courtney asked her, giving the kiddo a bump with her hip.

  “No!” she said a little too sharply, drawing glances from the half a dozen people walking by.

  I grinned. “So, if it isn’t Billy, who is he?”

  “Oh. My. God. Stop, please?” She was so serious, and for half a second, I thought she was going to spell it out. O. M. G.

  “Ok, which one is he, though?” I asked her, “So, I’ll know who to shoot first.”

  “Dick… not cool, man,” Courtney said.

  I smiled and watched as Mel slunk off and headed down to a tunnel marked with a three. I half expected her to flip me off, and then remembered that Mel wouldn’t do that. I’d just expected that sort of reaction to the teasing I’d given her.

  “What? You were that age once. You gotta know what it’s like,” I reminded Courtney, not wanting to be the last one ribbed, like I always was.

  “Yeah, hormones, acne, no self-confidence… great time to be a kid… Besides, what were you like at sixteen?”

  “I was…” I let the words trail off.

  I thought about it. I remembered an old Camaro, I remembered working as a bagger at an old Hamady’s store in… and it was gone, just like a lot of my memories. They faded into the mental fog that had made my life difficult, sometimes making me forget who was who, and sometimes forget where I was at. I used to be worse, but over time, things had been getting a little better. Maybe, part of it was getting closer to the end of our journey.

  “I think I was pretty normal. A walking hormone.”

  “Oh God, I think all boys are at that age. There’s the radio.”

  I wanted to call her Captain Obvious, but she knew I had already seen it. I started walking and just figured it was her way of changing the subject, or diverting attention. As I passed the tunnel marked ‘3’, I could just make out sleeping cots on one side, three high, stacked end to end as far as I could see. Mel was leaning against a shelf on the other side, talking to somebody and laughing. Maybe this would be the new normal? Finding happiness wherever we could.

  I was almost knocked off my feet as a woman plowed into me. Her nails flashed, and I felt pain on the side of my face. For a brief moment, I thought she’d gotten my eye, but she must have missed it as I’d jerked my head away from her instinctively. Spittle flew from her lips as she screamed, but I didn’t hear anything. I grabbed the hand that had raked my face, and grabbed the other wrist when she started slugging me.

  I held tight, but pushed her away from me when she started trying to bite and head-butt me. As soon as she got some distance, her foot flashed out, catching me between the legs. The pain was immediate and I felt nauseous. I fought the urge to fall to my knees, since I had her wrists pinned. Instead, I turned my hips so she couldn’t get another shot in, and started squeezing her wrists tightly, trying to get through to her.

  “Lady, stop,” I kept saying over and over.

  Behind her, Courtney walked up and took her pistol out of her holster. I wanted to scream at her to stop, not to shoot her, but she turned the gun so she was holding it by the barrel and swung it, using the butt to smash the woman in the back of the head. She went limp and I let her go, letting her fall hard on the concrete. All at once, the sounds of the bunker hit me. It was like I had a mute button and it had been pressed, then all at once, somebody had turned the sound back on with the volume pegged at max.

  “Dick, are you ok?” Courtney asked, pulling for something in her pocket.

  “Yeah, crazy bitch got me in the nuts,” I said, watching as she pulled a bandana out of her pocket.

  That was when I felt something hot and wet dripping down the left side of my face. I rubbed my hand through it and looked. Blood. I folded the bandana into a wad and applied to the wound to slow the b
leeding.

  A girl who was almost a teenager launched herself at Courtney, screaming, “Why’d you hit my mommy? Who are you? Somebody help!”

  I was able to snake a hand out really quick, going for her shoulder or her shirt, but caught the back of her ponytail instead. Her momentum was too much and it was like a rug had been pulled out from under her and she shrieked. I let go of the ponytail as quickly as I’d grabbed it, and Courtney had already jumped to the side, the butt of her pistol raised, ready to strike at the new threat.

  “The fuck’s the matter with you people?” Courtney screamed as a ring of people started forming around us.

  “You’re the ones,” a boy said, one of the Monopoly players.

  “The ones who shot her dad!” Another pointed to the girl on the ground who was crying.

  “You’re the one who shot my Uncle Clay,” a little girl said from between the bodies of the older teenagers.

  “Oh shit,” I mumbled to Courtney, “This is Scott’s family.”

  “That’s my dad, you asshats!” the girl on the floor shrieked.

  “Kid, get out of here,” I growled. “Go get the doc for your mom. She just got KO’d.”

  “I wish you were dead,” she spat, scrambling to her feet and taking off down the tunnel we’d exited.

  “The fuck is going on here?” a deeper voice intoned.

  I turned to see one of the deputies, half in uniform, approaching, his hand on his gun.

  “Woman attacked me,” I said, pointing.

  “So, you knocked her out, attacked her daughter?” he asked, anger in his voice.

  “No, I got kicked in the nuts, trying not to hurt her.”

  “Turn around, put your hands behind your back,” he commanded, reaching for a pouch.

  “That isn’t going to happen. And if you don’t get your hand off your gun, things are going to get real ugly, real fucking fast.”

  “Dick…” Courtney hissed, and I looked around.

  Several people had handguns out, pointing down at the ground. Not deputies, but civilians. Down here in a concrete bunker, the shots would likely ricochet until they’d spent all of their energy. Not a safe thing.

  “I came down here to use the radio. I didn’t ask for this,” I said, pointing to the woman who was starting to stir, a lump forming on her head.

  “I said turn around, put your hands behind your back—”

  He’d gotten within a few feet of me, and I let instinct take over as he pulled his gun from his holster. I flowed forward with a grace that was more muscle memory and practice than any conscious effort. I pushed his wrist down, gripping it hard with my left hand as I brought the knuckles of my right into his Adam’s Apple. I tried to pull the chop to his windpipe so I didn’t kill him, but it was a last minute effort as my reason kicked in before I let my training take over. He gagged and I looped my now free arm under his armpit, still holding his gun hand with my other, and used my hip to toss him over my shoulder. Did I mention we were near the wall of the tunnel? Just past number 3? We were, and when he hit it head first and slumped, I wasn’t surprised. Courtney had seen me move and instinctively hit the ground, her hand over her head as I pulled the gun from the unconscious cop’s hands and aimed it at the stunned onlookers.

  “Anybody else want to play? Drop your guns!” I shouted, the revolver aimed at them.

  “Just like you said before, you executed the refugees?” a woman asked from the back of the semi-circle of people that had formed.

  “Refugees?” I asked, “I didn’t execute any...”

  “The men at the fence, the reason why my husband was killed,” the woman screamed, obviously the mother of one of the kids who had accosted me earlier.

  “They were NATO and FEMA plants, not refugees. Now, I’m not kidding, drop the fucking guns!”

  This time, I heard the metallic clanks of several pistols hitting the floor. I couldn’t see everyone’s hands, but my point had been made. I checked the deputy’s pulse, and as I looked up to see what was going on, I could see Mel holding back an older boy who was red-faced with rage. She looked like she was holding her own, so finding a strong pulse, I pulled the cuffs from the deputy’s leather pouch and dragged him over to the woman and handcuffed him to her. If I’d had two sets, I’d have put them back to back and cuffed them, but I didn’t, so I couldn’t. It was only a matter of time. Courtney had raised her pistol to cover me as I cuffed the assholes. Somewhere in the tussle, I’d dropped the handkerchief I’d been using to stop the bleeding, and I walked over, picking it up off the polished floor.

  A red smear stayed behind and I debated just letting the blood drip onto the floor, but this was Steve and Jamie’s place and it seemed wrong somehow. That’s when I heard the distinctive sound of a pump action shotgun. Having carried one for many years, I recognized it and wasn’t surprised when a new voice boomed out.

  “You two, slowly put the guns down and put your hands up.”

  Again, the ricocheting rounds would be deadly down here and none of us would be safe, so I turned to see a familiar deputy with a KSG held up, not four feet behind Courtney’s surprised face. I dropped the pistol and raised my hands slowly. Courtney was already following directions, having seen me doing the same. She looked me in the eyes, silently asking me for direction, so I shook my head. For now, we’d go along with this. If the fool opened up down here, women and children would be hurt as well, something a cop should realize.

  “Now, does somebody want to explain to me, what the hell is going on?”

  Courtney moved to my side and we stood shoulder to shoulder, our hands raised chest high. Still, neither of us said anything.

  “No? What kind of clusterfuck did I just walk into?” he asked, looking at the two stirring forms, handcuffed together on the ground.

  “We were coming down to use the radio. I guess we weren’t expecting to get attacked like this,” Courtney said after a long pause.

  “Attacked? They killed our own people, and now they’ve—”

  “Rory, put down the shotgun.”

  I’d know that voice anywhere. I turned my head slowly to see Jamie striding toward us, her face a blank mask. If anything, I’d have to say there was more than a hint of anger in her eyes, but other than that, she was totally unreadable.

  “Stay out of this, ma’am,” Rory, the deputy with the shotgun said. “This is a law enforcement issue.”

  “This has never been a law enforcement issue,” I snarled, surprising Courtney and half of the bystanders with the anger and conviction in my voice. “If you all keep looking at things like that, you’re all going to—”

  “What, die?” Mel asked, coming up and standing beside her mother.

  I just nodded. Those two women hadn’t been insulated from the rest of the world in bum-fuck Nebraska with a bunker to hide in. Those ladies had gotten out of Michigan with me, survived Chicago, and all the crazy bullshit that was my life. Hell, they’d been with me for a good chunk of time, and I didn’t need to say anything more, because it would have been a waste. I was letting my crazy show again.

  “Rory, last chance, put down the shotgun,” Jamie said.

  “Jamie, this doesn’t concern you. Let me handle this.”

  “Rory, it does concern me, as well as your wife and kids.”

  The words chilled the air, and for a second, his eyes left mine and flickered to her.

  “Anybody else who attacks these two while on my husband’s property will be kicked out. I don’t care that you’ve worked with him forever, or that you used to go bowling on the weekends… or even if you’ve invested in the bunker. You attack them again, I’ll put you and your entire family out myself, or I’ll die trying. Then, you can deal with Steve.”

  The shotgun’s bore was huge, and I was staring right down it. I could see the deputy had it sighted in on my big, fat head. Still, his eyes flickered again and then he lowered it to his side. I took a deep breath and Courtney let out a huge sigh. She must have been holding her b
reath the entire time, and she wasn’t the only one. Several people were looking around, their mouths hanging open comically like a fish.

  “I’m just trying to assess the situation, ma’am,” the deputy told her, his arms going limp as he let the shotgun drop to the end of the drop sling.

  “The situation is, that I’ve been hearing a lot of misinformation from the people living down here. Dick and Courtney did not attack and murder our people. It was Doc who shot Scott, after Scott shot Dick in the back. When Clay was about to gun down Doc, Courtney shot him. The attacks you all are talking about came from the residents of the farm first. They were just defending themselves from us. As soon as I heard that Dick had come down here, I knew there would be problems. Evidently, Steve didn’t fill you all in like I’d asked?!”

  “Why should we believe him when it’s our husbands who are dying?” somebody’s wife shouted.

  “Nobody is begging you to stay, if you don’t like it here,” Mel spoke up, and I felt a surge of pride for what she was trying to do. “In fact, this is really kind of our home, lady, so why don’t you shut the—”

  “That’s enough, Mel,” I said curtly, before the young lady got herself into some trouble.

  I knew she was protective of me, she had proven it countless times. Rory shifted, and my attention once again focused on the KSG he was holding. I looked at it and started walking toward him. He made as if to bring it back up, but I kept my arms at my sides. It had all the same scratches, and when the cop saw that I wasn’t going to attack, he looked at me, puzzled.

  “Hello there, old friend,” I said smiling.

  “You’re a nut job,” Rory said. “And you have no business threatening to put out my family.” The last was said to Jamie.

  “Dick, what were you guys coming down here for?” Jamie asked, her eyes never leaving Rory or the others.

  I tried to swallow the frog in my throat, and in the half a heartbeat pause, Mel spoke up.

  “They were coming down to use the radio. I headed down about the same time they did. They were teasing me about… well, they were teasing me. They need better information. Right, Dick?”