The Zoo Crew (Zoo Crew series Book 1)

by Dustin Stevens

  Drake lowered his chin to his right shoulder. "When you hear me whistle, I want you to run to the left as fast as you can. Get against the wall and stay there."

  The girl squeezed his hand in understanding.

  Drake drew in a deep breath. He could feel apprehension rolling off of everyone in the room.

  He gave the girl's hand a quick squeeze and pushed his front teeth against his bottom lip.

  Forced out an ear splitting whistle that could be heard for a mile in every direction.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Three things happened at once.

  The door to the barn burst off its hinges.

  It didn't just open. It didn't swing out fast into the room. It literally exploded into a blur of wood chips.

  Most of them hadn't even settled as Rink came through. Kade and Ajax were both less than a foot behind him.

  Drake used his hold on the fake Beth's hold to jumpstart her run for the corner. Jerked her so fast the cloak flew back off her head.

  Third, Drake launched his own body forward at Notch, who stood with a look that conveyed two things at once.

  The girl was not Beth, and he was going to enjoy killing Drake.

  Tunnel vision set in as Drake ran straight at Notch. He didn't notice the grunts and sounds of a struggle behind him. Didn't hear fake Beth crying against the wall. Never once registered the cluster of women yelling in shrill voices across the barn.

  All he saw was Notch. A sadistic son of a bitch that had hurt his friends, was intent on hurting him.

  Drake ran straight ahead. He gritted his teeth and pushed a carnal groan out through them.

  His eyes focused in as Notch stepped to the side and held the night stick at the ready, sized him up like a slugger waiting for a fastball.

  Drake maintained his path. He waited until he was just beyond the reach of Notch, dropped to his knees and slid across the smooth concrete.

  A rush of wind blew across him as Notch's swing passed just above his head.

  Using the momentum, Drake lifted himself back onto his feet and stopped beside the edge of the table Ava lay on. He grabbed up the meat tenderizer and turned to face Notch.

  Now he was armed, albeit with little more than a hammer. It was at least a foot shorter than what Notch was working with.

  Still, it was something. A renewed surge of confidence, of burning hatred, surged through him.

  Notch moved first. Using the night stick as a poker, he got Drake to shift to the side and brought in a sweeping left hook.

  Drake dropped beneath the hook and swung the mallet hard at Notch's mid-section. Drew nothing but air.

  He used his momentum to turn a tight circle and swung a vicious chop out across Notch's knee that connected. Heard a pained grunt as the night stick smashed into the concrete just inches from him.

  Drake rose to full height and threw a left cross, followed with a jab using the head of the tenderizer.

  Even moving a little stiff, Notch ducked them both and poked Drake in the ribs with the night stick.

  The blow doubled him over at the waist and pushed the air from his lungs.

  In a practiced move, Notch slid the flap jack from his rear pocket and swung it hard down at the exposed back of Drake's skull. A second before it connected, Drake managed to get his left hand up to block.

  Took the full brunt of the blow across his balled up fist.

  Spectacular pain burst through his body as the bones in his hand shattered on impact.

  Drake wheezed in a deep breath and drew the hand against his chest. Retreated a few steps. Kept the mallet extended in his right hand.

  Notch laughed and returned to his saunter. He was still limping slightly from the knee shot, but kept moving forward.

  Flap jack in one hand, night stick in the other.

  "I should be pissed about you bringing your boys, but I'm kind of glad you did. Gives me more to kill once I'm done with you."

  Drake had no desire to listen to the man's mouth. To sit like wounded prey while his hunter leered over him.

  He pushed himself forward and buried his shoulder into Notch's ribs. Punched at his kidneys with the head of the mallet.

  Drake drove Notch halfway across the room before they landed in a heap. They rolled twice, each one fighting for dominance.

  Even with one hand, Drake came out on top.

  Until the flap jack found his jaw.

  It wasn't a direct shot, but a glancing blow, just enough to daze him. It allowed Notch to roll him over and pin him to the ground, use the night stick to pry the meat tenderizer away.

  Pinned, dazed, unable to use his left hand, Drake looked up at Notch. Did the only thing he had left at his disposal.

  Spit into the man's face.

  The haughty sneer from a moment before evaporated from Notch's face. Incredulity replaced it.

  Without saying a word, he lifted the tenderizer high above his head. Brought it down like a lumberjack swinging an ax.

  Three gunshots stopped him mid-swing.

  Drake flinched at the sound of each one.

  Again at the fresh blood that leaked down onto his face.

  The meat tenderizer slid from Notch's hand and fell to the ground with a clang. Three blossoms of blood spread across his chest.

  Bloody bubbles formed around his lips.

  His hollow, icy blue eyes rolled up into his head. He slouched to the side without a sound.

  Using his hips, Drake pushed his attacker off and sat up expecting to find Rink standing over him with his .9mm.

  Instead he found someone else lying on the floor, blood pouring from his nose, smoking gun extended at arm's length.

  Sheriff Spore.

  Chapter Sixty

  The entire room froze in place.

  In the wake of the gunshots, silence seemed to envelope everything.

  Drake remained seated on the concrete floor. For the first time since whistling, he stopped to look around.

  Across the room, only the lady from child services remained against the wall. She was cowered down into a squatting position with her hands pressed tight over her ears, eyes jammed shut.

  To the right was carnage.

  Sheriff Spore was laid out flat on the ground. His upper body was propped up an elbow. Blood stained the front of his torn Sheriff's uniform.

  Extended out from him, Ajax, Kade, and Rink were bent at the waist.

  Ajax was hunched over the only one of the bunch Drake didn't recognize. From the looks of things, nobody else would either for a while.

  Beside him was Kade. His long hair was disheveled and his shirt was rumpled. No visible damage though. Nothing like the judge was dealing with beneath him.

  Third in line was Rink. He still held the front of the lawyer's shirt balled in one hand. The other was cocked mid-air by his shoulder, knuckles stained with blood.

  On the ground beside them were the two sisters. Neither appeared to be moving.

  It looked like they'd tried to get involved when things went down. It hadn't ended well for them.

  Drake sat and stared back at the Sheriff. Paused a few moments, then raised his hands by his side.

  The Sheriff just shook his head and dropped his arm to the ground, lowered the rest of himself flat onto his back.

  "You boys alright?" Drake asked.

  "Good," Kade said. He stood to full height, left the judge beneath him.

  Ajax and Rink did the same.

  Drake rose onto his right palm and pulled his feet up beneath him. He kept his left hand pressed into his stomach, stood and went to Ava's side.

  A whole new flood of anger passed through him as he checked for a pulse. Found it. Used his right hand to untie her bindings.

  He stared at the hideous damage Notch had done to her leg, sensed his friends approach from behind him.

  "She okay?" Ajax asked.

  "No," Drake said. "She won't die, but she's in a world of hurt."

  "How bout you?"

  Drake twis
ted his head side to side. "I'll live."

  The fake Beth walked over from the wall. She hugged the drop cloth tight around her and sniffed loudly.

  Said nothing.

  "What happens here now?" Kade asked.

  "Good question," Drake said and turned to look at the Sheriff. None of the four men had moved. "Sheriff?"

  Sheriff Spore raised his left hand and twirled it in a circular motion. "I've got this. You guys get out of here. Get her to a hospital."

  Drake raised Ava's shoulders up from the table with his right arm and slid it beneath her. He winced as he pushed the broken stub of his left hand behind her knees and lifted her into the air with a grunt.

  "Yo, we can take her," Ajax said.

  Drake again shook his head. "This one's on me. I got her."

  He started for the door.

  "Can one of you call Sage at Saint Mike's and tell her we're en route?"

  "On it," Kade said.

  "I'll go get the truck," Rink said. He hooked an arm around fake Beth and took off at a quick walk. Together they disappeared outside.

  Drake rested the back of his arms against the table for a moment to let Rink get a head start and give Kade a second to call Sage. He then hefted Ava up and walked past the eight dead or broken individuals lying scattered around the barn into the night.

  Ajax on one side of him, Kade on the other.

  The original Zoo Crew.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Drake pulled his shoulder bag from the front seat of his truck, reached across his body and unlatched the truck door. Climbed out and headed towards the law school.

  He looked down at the monstrosity of a cast that now engulfed his left hand and shook his head in disgust.

  When they'd gotten to the hospital the night before, Sage had everything arranged. Two nurses were ready and waiting with a wheelchair to take Ava straight to x-ray.

  An hour later she was in surgery.

  Once Drake got Ava loaded into the wheelchair, it took Sage about ten seconds to sniff out his broken hand. She knew better than to even suggest a wheelchair for him.

  Still, she walked him to x-ray herself and fussed over him like a mother hen the entire time. Even applied the cast herself.

  Drake was sure she had work she should be doing elsewhere, even pointed it out to her. Repeatedly.

  She wouldn't hear of it. Eventually told him to shut up and do as he was told.

  Now twelve hours later, the full scope of what she'd done to him was setting in. His hand was useless. He kept jabbing himself with the cast.

  Even poor Suzy Q had gotten an unintentional whack from it.

  Drake slid in through the side door to the law school wearing a long sleeve pullover with the sleeves down as far as they would extend. They managed to cover most of it, everything except the top few inches around the palm of his hand.

  Bright white against tan skin.

  For midday midweek the halls were empty. Drake stuck to the back stairwell and nodded a couple quick hellos. Put out the vibe that it was not a day to stop and talk.

  It worked.

  Until he got to the clinic office.

  He wasn't intending to stay long. Just grab his laptop and a few books. He did, after all, have a brief to get written and he needed to get on it as soon as he could.

  Typing with a broken hand was not going to be an enjoyable experience.

  Greg and Wyatt were both sitting at their desks as he walked in, both with their backs to him.

  Drake hoped to slip in and out undetected. He went straight to his desk and gathered his things, turned to find both of them facing him.

  "You weren't really trying to sneak out like that were you?" Wyatt asked.

  "I mean, you're good, but it's not like you're a damn ninja or something," Greg added.

  Drake smiled. Shook his head. Said nothing.

  Greg started to fire another jab but stopped himself short. His eyes bulged at the cast on Drake's hand.

  "Holy shit, it's true isn't it?"

  Drake raised his hand and looked down at the cast. "What?"

  "All of it," Wyatt said. "The whole school's been abuzz this morning."

  "Yeah, about how you kicked Lauer's ass, stormed a child trafficking ring," Greg said.

  "Saved Ava's life," Wyatt added.

  Drake rolled his eyes. "You guys shouldn't believe everything you hear."

  Twelve hours and the stories had already taken on mythical proportions.

  Worse yet, they weren't that far off. The fact that even that much had gotten out surprised him.

  It hadn't come from the Crew. One of the others? One of the girls maybe?

  "Oh, come on," Greg said. "Give us something here."

  "What are you guys, journalists?" Drake asked.

  He made no effort to hide his annoyance. He really wasn't upset at their asking. He'd expected that.

  For some reason he didn't feel quite right discussing it. Not until everything got straightened out. It didn't feel like his story to tell.

  "Nothing?" Wyatt asked. He looked hurt.

  "Cover to cover exclusive," Drake said. "But not right now."

  Thought a moment longer and held up his hand. "They gave me morphine. Details are still a little fuzzy."

  They hadn't given him anything. Sage tried. He wouldn't let her. He'd wanted his mind sharp in case anything else occurred during the night.

  Both his friends stared at him warily, trying to use silence to make him crack.

  After a while they gave up and shifted their gaze to the door.

  Drake followed their look to see Lauer standing there. His stomach dropped, tongue feeling three sizes too large for his dry mouth.

  He knew he was going to have to face Lauer soon enough. Hated like hell that it was happening already.

  From the look on Lauer's face, he felt the same way.

  "Could you guys give us a few minutes?" Drake asked. He turned his head towards Greg and Wyatt, but kept his eyes on Lauer.

  Neither one moved.

  Drake wrestled a crumpled five dollar bill from his pocket and tossed it onto Greg's lap. "Have a soda on me."

  Slowly, reluctantly, both rose and departed. Left Drake and Lauer standing alone in the office.

  For several seconds, neither one spoke. Or even blinked.

  "Listen, professor," Drake began. His voice was raspy. No hint of a shake or crack though. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am."

  Lauer walked past him and placed his bag atop the desk. He turned and sat beside it, his short legs swinging several inches above the floor.

  "I know what we, what I, did was an enormous offense. I understand entirely if you press charges, or if you have me removed from school."

  Lauer kept his eyes focused on the ground, seeming to debate something internally. "Is she okay?"

  Drake breathed for the first time since Lauer walked in.

  "She will be. Her left leg is shattered. They put in two rods and a bunch of screws this morning. She has a couple of toes that will be permanently disfigured."

  "Hmm," Lauer said, his eyes still averted. "And you?"

  Without thinking, Drake lifted the cast. "Broken hand. It'll heal."

  "And the girls?"

  "All alive and accounted for."

  Lauer shifted his eyes from the floor to Drake. He kept his voice low and even, traces of shame, guilt, humiliation, anger, all mixed in.

  "I don't want you to think I condone what happened, because I don't. We are lawyers. We don't participate in vigilante, cowboy shit like that.

  "Entering this profession means submitting yourself to the greater judicial system. To accepting that we are part of a whole, and that none of us can circumvent that whole if and when we choose."

  Drake nodded, waited for the hammer to come down on him.

  "After you left last night, I sat out on the porch for a long time. Thought about what you did. What might happen to Ava, to those girls.

  "About the situ
ation that wouldn't have even existed if I'd had the courage to stop it years ago."

  Drake raised his eyes, focused on Lauer.

  "Make no mistake. This will be the only time we ever speak of this. And it will damned sure be the only break I cut you. You're on paper thin ice moving forward."

  Drake waited for him to continue. Nothing more was said.

  "But we're good?" Drake asked.

  "We're good. Now get the hell out of here. I don't want to see you again until at least Monday."

  Drake left without another word.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  "Good afternoon Mr. Bell, I don't believe we've met. My name is Darcy."

  The receptionist at the District Attorney's office extended her hand across the desk to Drake and gave her best impression of a warm smile. She tried not to let him see her wince as he shook her hand.

  Drake smirked, made sure she saw it.

  "Good to meet you."

  Drake delivered it in a monotone voice. Flat expression.

  The point was received.

  Darcy buzzed him past the desk and on into Wise's office without further comment.

  Like Darcy, Wise seemed a little too eager to rise and shake his hand. To offer him a seat. Ask if he'd like a cup of coffee.

  Drake waved off everything. He knew at the end of the day he needed the DA's office. Also knew that proverbial day was not today.

  Opted to be aloof without coming off as outright hostile.

  "Thank you for coming in to see me on such short notice," Wise said as he shuffled a stack of papers in front of him.

  "Thanks for calling," Drake said. "I assume the Sheriff contacted you?"

  "He did," Wise said. He located what he was looking for and dropped it down in front of him. "Called to tell me that as of this morning Mayor Maria Sloan and a Yelena Gulov have been placed under arrest. They are being held for kidnapping, human trafficking, maiming and two counts of accessory to murder."

  Drake nodded. That pretty much matched the list he'd been working on in his head.

  "Those are the only two arrests?"

  Wise leaned back and assumed his standard position with fingers locked across his stomach. Sighed. "Patricia Harken, Riley Bennett, Judge Minot Tanner, and Dr. Brice Schievers have all been instructed not to leave Missoula County."