The Last Storm

by Jack Hunt

  “Then go. You don’t have to be here.”

  Leon released him and returned to pulling residents out of their apartments. Cayden fired a few shots to keep them on their toes, to keep them compliant, to keep them from heroics. Once they cleared the fifth floor, they traipsed up the stairwell. He was pleased to see the power had come back on. For a few minutes there he’d got worried they were going to be faced with an even greater problem. Searching apartments in the dark wouldn’t have been easy. It didn’t take them long to clear rooms. Most residents were too damn scared to fight back, and those that did were dropped.

  Pat and Jimmy shoved the last three people into the lounge. It could comfortably entertain up to 50 guests but it was cramped now. They’d managed to squeeze seventy-two people in there by stacking chairs and folding tables and seating everyone on the floor. It had a small kitchenette and a small bathroom off to the right of the entrance. Two large windows provided a blurry view of the harbor.

  Cayden walked out into the middle of the room and the residents parted like the Red Sea, cowering back, clinging to their children, some mumbling curse words under their breath. He looked out the window and cupped a hand to his ear.

  “You hear that?” he asked, turning to a room of frightened faces. “That’s the sound of help not coming. Get used to it.” He breathed in deeply allowing his mind to work through what he wanted to say. “Now listen up. I’m going to make this real easy. Tenth floor, room 1002. Greg Mitchell had something that belonged to me. Unfortunately he can’t be here to tell me where it is. That’s where you fine folks come in. Who here knows anything about what happened the day he died?”

  His eyes surveyed the faces as he walked among them. “Come on now. This can all be over real soon if you just speak up. No harm will come to you.”

  “Then why did you kill my husband?” a woman yelled, clutching her two kids. He turned fast on the balls of his feet.

  “Your husband was given clear directions. He refused to follow them. Let me make something clear. If I ask you a question, you answer it. If I tell you to move, you move. Any deviation from this will have dire consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

  No one responded, so he lifted his gun and pointed at the lady. “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes. Yes.” All over the room people replied.

  “Very good. Now we understand each other, let’s move this along, shall we? Who knows what happened the day he died?”

  “I do,” a kid in his late teens replied.

  “Tommy, enough,” his mother said.

  Cayden smiled. “No. It’s okay, Tommy. Come on up here.”

  He hesitated for a second but then rose to his feet and worked his way through the crowd coming to a stop a few feet from Cayden. “Well?”

  The kid was a stringy-looking fellow, blond hair down to his jawline. He was wearing a thick green school sweater with the words Whittier Eagles on the front, stone-washed jeans and a pair of worn Nikes. He stuck his hands into his pockets and spoke with his head down like he was afraid to look Cayden in the eyes. “It was a drug bust.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “He was killed by the police for growing pot.”

  “And you know this because?”

  “I saw them hauling twenty plants out of there.”

  “Seems like overkill,” Cayden said.

  “It wasn’t just that. I overheard one of the cops being accused of trafficking heroin.”

  “Tommy?”

  Tommy turned towards his mother.

  “It’s true. I told Officer Lee that Greg sold me weed, and without him knowing followed him to the apartment. I heard it all.”

  Cayden nodded, walked over and put his arm around Tommy, causing his mother to look worried. “Don’t worry, mom, I won’t touch one hair.” He turned back to Tommy. “So did you see them haul out the heroin?”

  “Well no, that’s the thing. Officer Lee denied it, but Chief Solomon must have believed it because he pulled me into the station two days after Danny took his life to ask me questions about whether Greg had offered me heroin.”

  “And did he?”

  “No, it was just pot.” He looked back at his mother. “I swear.”

  “So you have no idea where he stashed this heroin?”

  “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” an older gentleman piped up. Cayden turned to face him.

  “You know something, old man?”

  He shook his head, giving Cayden a defiant look. “No.”

  “Then shut your mouth.” He looked back at Tommy. “Tommy, did you ever visit his apartment? See where he went in town?”

  “He rarely left the building,” a woman across the room said.

  “And you are?” Cayden asked.

  “Clara Timmins. Teacher. Besides heading to Anchorage once a month he stayed in his apartment. My apartment is on the same floor, apartment 1005.”

  “Ah, a teacher. And so did you ever see him wandering the corridors, maybe taking a smoke outside? Out of his room at unusual hours?”

  “I might know my neighbors but I’m not intrusive. They have a right to privacy, as do I.” She had her arm around a young teen boy, with dark hair buzzed at the sides and long on top.

  “Is that your boy?” Cayden asked showing interest in him.

  “No, he’s a student of mine.”

  “What’s your name, boy?”

  He pursed his lips tight refusing to speak.

  “His name is Ben.”

  “The cat got your tongue, Ben?”

  “He’s autistic, asshole.”

  “Doesn’t mean he can’t answer.”

  “You’re scaring him.”

  Ben looked down at the M4 in his hand.

  “Why don’t you leave the kids alone?” a woman said across the room.

  Cayden scoffed. “And you are?”

  “Jess Riley.”

  “Well Jess. While adults tend to have the attention span of a gnat, children tend to see more than we give them credit. Now I saw all the kids running up and down these halls. I know they spend a great deal of time going from apartment to apartment. And having been a kid myself I know where they go when they want to get away from restrictive, overbearing parents. So let me do the questioning, okay?”

  He waited for a response but she never gave it. She was a fine-looking woman, certainly the best out of those in the room. She had a small face and all her features were well proportioned, a tight body and dark wavy hair that was pulled back in a pony. He glanced at the teen girl beside her.

  “What have you seen?” he asked her.

  The woman wrapped her arms around her kid. “I told you, leave the kids alone.”

  Cayden cocked his head catching the defiance in her tone. He worked his way across the room and stood in front of her, sweeping his rifle behind his back. He reached up and took a hold of her face and squished it, causing her mouth to open ever so slightly. He was tempted to kiss her but instead he stared into her eyes then flicked his hand away causing her head to jerk to one side.

  “What’s your name?” he asked the daughter.

  “Hayley.”

  “She doesn’t know anything. She’s new,” the same old man who had spoken earlier said.

  “New?” He laughed. “Lady, I have got to hear the reason you came to this shit hole.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “So when did you arrive?”

  “Today.”

  “Her husband’s a cop,” someone in the crowd said.

  He frowned and looked back at her. “Is that true?”

  She didn’t say a word, so he grabbed her by the face again. “Lady, you are really pushing my buttons.”

  “It is,” she said.

  “And what’s his name?”

  “Does it matter?”

  He chuckled. “Just tell me his name.”

  She was hesitant and he picked up on that. In all his years dealing with the police he had run across all types, those looking to ma
ke money on the side, those looking to take him down and those who had something to hide.

  “Name!” Cayden bellowed.

  “Alex.”

  “And where would Alex be?”

  “Working.”

  “Huh?” He breathed in deeply. “Dead cop. New cop. Interesting.” He rolled his lower lip under his top teeth and motioned to Vic with his head. “Keep a close eye on this one.”

  Cayden walked away thinking there was no point in questioning someone who had just arrived. He returned to Tommy, looked at him then put the question out to everyone in the room. “Well if no one is going to speak up, we’ll have to tear apart your apartments because I know damn well someone isn’t telling me the truth here.”

  He turned to Hank. “Take some of the men, start on floor ten and go through every apartment, tear them apart.”

  “You can’t do that,” a man said rising to his feet.

  Pat was quick to respond by slamming the butt of his rifle into the guy’s face, making him drop to his knees. “Stay the fuck down.”

  Cayden walked over to the man who was groping a bloodied face and he crouched down in front of him. “We’ll do whatever the hell we like.”

  The man spit blood in his face and cursed at him. A pin hitting the floor could have been heard. Cayden slowly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood away. As he placed it back in his pocket, his slipped his fingers in the brass knuckles, squeezed tight and in one smooth move fired a right hook at the man’s jaw. He tumbled back and Cayden was on him like a lion, throwing punch after punch at his face until he was unrecognizable and no longer breathing. Women and children screamed even as his men tried to get them to be quiet. Once Cayden was done, he rose to his feet and glanced at the people. Sometimes the only way to keep people in line was to give a demonstration. It was how he’d done it years ago when he was trying to establish his business in Anchorage. People understood fear.

  Staring at the horrified room full of parents blocking their children’s eyes, he asked, “Questions?”

  No one said a word as Hank and five others left the room in search of the drugs.

  Across the room Jess sat in silence, Hayley sobbing on her chest. Outside the weather was getting worse, the wind was howling and heavy snow blanketed the town. Her eyes flitted to the dead body of the man that had been left there as a warning to others. She’d never seen anyone murdered. She felt sick and nauseated in the pit of her stomach. Hearing his bones break, seeing that kind of brutality made every fiber of her being nervous. She clung to Hayley and whispered into her ear.

  “It’s okay, hon, it’s okay. Dad will get help. He’ll come.”

  Hayley looked up at her with unconvinced eyes.

  Her mind flashed back to years earlier, the night they lost their son Ethan. Learning to live with Alex away from home was hard but when their second child came along and she was suffering from postpartum depression, she barely could hold it together. When Ethan came down with what she assumed was a normal case of the flu, she did what any mother would do and got it treated. Even after they saw a doctor and he was given a steroid treatment, she assumed things were okay. A few days passed and he started complaining that he wasn’t feeling well, started throwing up and was hit with a high fever. She rushed him to the hospital and within an hour he was critically ill. The medical team did everything they could to save him but he died within three hours.

  Even though she’d contacted Alex, he wasn’t able to get back in time.

  Overcome by grief, she broke down in the hallway of Anchorage Regional Hospital, unable to console Hayley. She’d never felt so alone or lost as in that moment. Now once again she was back there, dealing with a threat to the life of her child.

  She trusted Alex.

  She believed he would do everything in his power to help but she wasn’t going to rely on him. If she’d learned anything through the loss of her son, it was that she would do anything to protect Hayley. She glanced up at the man others were calling Cayden with a look of disdain. She eyed the doorway and her mind started to formulate a plan of escape.

  Chapter 10

  Alex stood in the west stairwell on the first floor watching the armed intruders go from one apartment to the next. They cursed loudly and tossed items out into the hallway. The sound of glass breaking, material being torn and furniture being destroyed dominated. Kip stood nearby trying to peer around his arm.

  “What’s going on?” he asked quietly.

  He’d cracked the door just slightly, just enough to get a good look at the situation. After hearing the screams they’d quickly made their way up just in time to witness them shoving people towards the east stairwell. They’d heard them ordering residents up to the homeowners lounge. Alex’s heart was pounding in his chest. By the time he made it up to the tenth floor his apartment was empty. He saw Hayley’s iPhone laying on the kitchen floor, the screen cracked. His mind was churning over, trying to make sense of what was going on. He now had his answers.

  In the stairwell he pulled Kip towards the stairs.

  “They’re looking for this,” he said patting the duffel bag. “We need to get Solomon.”

  He nodded and they hurried back down into the basement, then raced through the long underground tunnel that would take them over to the school in hopes of exiting there. As soon as they came around the corner that led down to the double doors their hearts sank. Wrapped around the metal door handles were thick chains and a large padlock. Alex shook it and shoved against the door but it was wrapped too tight.

  He pulled his firearm to shoot the lock but Kip placed his hand on it. “No. They’ll hear.”

  “And?”

  “We need to stay low-key.”

  “Shit!” Alex paced trying to think. “Any other way out?”

  “No, other than here, the front has two entrances, and the rear leads out to the dumpsters but they’ve probably locked those and have men watching the entrances.”

  “What about the windows on the first floor?”

  “With the glass-shattering winds we get in this town, you aren’t going to be able to smash one of those, at least not without some difficulty. They were all reinforced after the last storm we had.”

  “I meant to climb out,” he said.

  Kip snorted. “Perhaps, if you can enter an apartment without being spotted. You saw how many armed men were out there.”

  “So we draw them away.”

  Kip shook his head. “We don’t know how many there are. No. It’s not worth it.” He pointed to the bag. “If they want this, just give it to them. They’ll leave and maybe, just maybe no more people will die.”

  Alex ran a hand over his head. “Are you serious? You can’t be that naïve, can you? The residents have seen their faces. If they would shoot people for not doing what they say, do you really think they are going to let all those witnesses live?” Alex leaned into him. “Right now, the only bargaining chip we have is this bag. We hand that over, everyone is as good as dead.”

  He went over to the wall and took a fire extinguisher off a hook and smashed it against the thick glass multiple times. It cracked but not completely. He tried again, taking his frustration out, but the crack didn’t get any wider.

  “I told you they reinforced the windows. With the bears wandering, and heavy winds, it costs too much to replace windows.”

  Alex cursed and tossed the fire extinguisher on the ground. All he could think about was Jess and Hayley. He pulled out his cell to check for a signal. There was still nothing. Kip walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Listen. There is a landline phone in my store. If we can reach it, we might be able to call over to the department. The landlines draw their power from the telephone company. The lines are buried. The phone company usually has a backup generator in place as well.”

  “Right.” He nodded, and they headed for the first floor. As they got closer to the stairwell, they heard voices.

  “You want us to check
the basement?”

  “Yeah. Take Jerome with you,” a male replied.

  Alex and Kip backed up fast, hurrying down towards the storage area. Kip led the way. “Follow me.”

  They darted into a large unfinished room full of storage cages. It was like a huge gym locker with chain-link fencing. The cages were jam-packed with belongings, items that couldn’t fit in people’s apartments. Alex surveyed the area looking for anywhere to hide. There was nowhere unless they locked themselves in one of the white freezers but that would no doubt be checked. The freezers took up most of the space in the concrete room. There were pallets pushed up against the wall, along with taller freezers spread out. At the far end was another storage area behind a chain-link fence. Kip darted towards it and began fumbling with a set of keys he fished out of his pocket. “Come on. Come on,” he muttered.

  The sound of voices was getting closer.

  Finally he inserted a key and twisted the lock and they entered.

  “Here, help me push this out of the way.” Behind the cage were multiple cupboards around six feet in height, old washing machines and all manner of crap. Kip got behind one cupboard and started shifting it, and Alex gave him a hand, putting his shoulder into it. They moved it enough to squeeze behind, then did their best to remain hidden. Both men crouched and waited in the silence. Alex gripped the Glock in his hand, ready to attack if need be.

  “I’m telling you we are wasting our time,” a man’s voice said. Alex shifted position and tried to peer through a gap between two cupboards. He saw an African American male enter the room along with another guy who was white. “Ah, you know Greg. The guy was an asshole. I bet you a dime to a dollar he faked his death and took off with those drugs. He’s probably living it up somewhere on some tropical island while we’re here freezing our asses off and risking our necks.”

  “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “No?”

  “The guy was a coward. He says he left because of his old man but that’s a lie. He left Anchorage because he thought Cayden was going to kill him because of a few deals that went bad. The fact was if it weren’t for me, he would have been dead a long time ago. I covered for his ass multiple times. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone got to him. You know, that cop or one of the dealers he burned back in Anchorage.”