“That was challenging.” Dennis said.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Big Mike motioned with his pistol for them to lead the way. With his direction they made their way down the hall and up a couple flights of stairs. At the top, Hank could hear voices coming from around the corner.
Walking in front of them, Big Mike said, “This might not be fun ladies.” When he reached the corner, he turned back toward them and added, “Right this way.”
Hank and Dennis made their way around the corner and looked down the dark hallway. Light spilled out of an open doorway ten yards away. Austin and Lincoln stood inside the room talking to each other. Both men’s hands and shirts were bloodied.
At Dennis and Hank’s approach both men stopped talking and turned toward them. Lincoln smiled a devious grin. Austin dropped his head and shuffled back to the windows where the light spilled in.
If Hank had his hands free he would have gave escape a shot, however in his current state he knew there was no chance. He wasn’t sure what Lincoln wanted, but if it was information, he was in trouble. Other than seeing the direction Tom and Eddie ran off in, he didn’t know anything.
Stepping into the room, they were both terrified to see what lay in front of them. In the center of the room was a large operating table, sitting under a pair of large robotic looking surgery lights. The once white covers were splattered with red blood, some of it still dripping into crimson pools on the floor below. In addition to the high tech monitoring equipment, the table was also surrounded by several carts piled with various medical tools. Scalpels, forceps, syringes, and all sorts of other tools that Hank did not recognize were scattered about their tops.
On the floor behind the surgery table was Brad. His bloodied form lay unmoving on the tile, a small pool of blood spreading around his head. His chest moved slowly, rhythmically, signaling that he still lived.
Dennis started to run over to him, but Austin stepped out in the way. He put his hand out on Dennis’s chest and said, “Questions first.”
Fuming in anger, Dennis said, “What have you done? He never harmed a soul.”
Lincoln stepped over next to both men. “He didn’t tell us what we needed, but you can.” He looked over to the bloody operating table and then back to Dennis. “We can save some time and do this the easy way...or we can have some fun and take our time.”
“I did two tours in Vietnam. I’ve been to this rodeo.”
Lincoln walked over to one of the tool carts and began picking up one tool after another until finally keeping a pair of shears. Holding them up, he smiled and turned to Hank. “You know, I thought you old timers would say something like that...and from Big Mike’s previous experience, this one over here, Hank I believe, is a tough one to crack. So, I have a different plan...maybe save us all some time.”
Hank stepped forward and said, “We don’t even know what you want. How the hell are we supposed to tell you anything?”
Turning toward the entryway, Lincoln shouted out to Big Mike, “Bring her in Mike.”
A wheelchair came rolling into the room with Rachael sitting in it, looking pale and in pain.
“Rachael!” Hank said. He started to move toward her, but Big Mike shook his head and held the barrel of his pistol to the back of her head.
Lincoln said, “Look what we found down in the emergency room. Your friend seems to have taken a turn for the worse.” He ran his fingers along the sharp edge of the shears and added, “My bet is that she has never been to this rodeo.”
“Leave her out of this.” Hank said.
“Answer me and I will.” Lincoln turned toward Dennis and said, “Don’t screw this up. In the basement is a huge safe. Give me the combo.”
Hank was surprised by the question. He wasn’t sure what he expected Lincoln to ask, but this was not it.
“No.” Dennis said.
With alarming speed Lincoln stepped over to Rachael, lifter her arm, and used the shears to snip off her pinky. She immediately screamed in agony. Dark blood streamed out of the stump, running down her arm, and dripping off her elbow to the floor.
Hank started to rush forward, but Lincoln turned toward him, anger filling his face. “Don’t even think about it.” He growled. “I tried to do this the easy way.” He pointed the bloody shears at Dennis. “You chose this.”
Dennis tried to remain stoic, but was clearly shaken a bit by Lincoln’s brutality.
Hank was pissed. He started toward Rachael, but Austin grabbed him from behind.
“Whoa...I think you better stay put old timer.” Austin said.
“I can’t...” Dennis started to say.
Before he could finish Lincoln reached over, grabbed Rachael’s hand, and used the shears to remove her ring finger. She was already screaming, but the pitch increased a notch and her face went ghost white.
“Dennis, give him the combo.” Hank shouted.
Looking back at Hank, fear and desperation in his eyes, Dennis said, “We have everything in there. Guns, ammo, food...” He left the statement unfinished, clearly in a panic. The decision was huge and having the added pressure of someone getting appendages snipped off was not helping anything.
“You don’t know what she’s been through. Too damn much, she can’t go through more.” Hank pleaded.
Lincoln grabbed Rachael’s hand again, but before he could begin any dirty work Dennis shouted for him to stop and began rattling off a set of numbers. He had broke and was spewing the numbers out as quickly as possible, spit flying from his mouth.
Lincoln stopped and looked up at Big Mike. “Write this down.” He spun back toward Dennis and said, “Now how hard was that? I’m going to go give those numbers a try while Austin and Mike keep an eye on you clowns.”
Hank took a step forward, looking at Rachael’s hand. “Can we get her something for her hand?” He turned back toward Austin, figuring he might be the best shot. “Gauze, towel, rag...anything? She’s losing a lot of blood.”
Austin nodded and began digging through the cupboards that surrounded the room. After looking behind a few doors he found a stack of pre-packaged sterile wraps. After watching Lincoln leave the room he stepped over to Rachael, ripped open a couple of the packages, and handed them to her. She was hunched over in agony, but managed to take them in her free hand. She used them in an attempt to slow the flow of blood.
“That’s it. Clip my zip tie so I can help her.” Hank said.
Austin let out a low laugh. “I don’t think so.”
Hank noticed for the first time that Rachael had a poultice and lump of gauze across her shoulders and on the back of her neck. Portions of the gauze were tinted in pink where blood had begun to soak through. It was amazing she was still alive and to have to go through what Lincoln put her through was beyond injustice.
Brad began groaning on the floor. Everyone looked down at him. He rolled over onto his side and spit up blood and vomit. Dennis stepped over and kneeled down next to him. Unable to use his hands, he listened to Brad’s breathing. It was a bit ragged, but sounded clear and strong. His wounds appeared to be mostly bruising and surface cuts. He looked like the losing end of a mixed martial arts bout.
Big Mike started to say something, but stopped when the sound of footsteps echoed in from the hallway. Everyone turned to see who approached. Lincoln came strolling through the doorway with a huge grin on his face. His shoulders held high, dripping with arrogance.
“Thank you for the goods. We might have to shop here more often.” Lincoln said.
Austin puffed out his chest. “Told you there was a ton of stuff in there.”
Lincoln ignored him and walked over next to Big Mike. Absent mindedly looking down at Rachael, he said, “Boys are loading up the goods right now.” He looked over at Dennis and Hank, hesitated for a bit and then added, “Once they get it all they’re going to bring the others up here. Give us some time to get out of here.”
“Sure we should leave ‘em alive?” Austin aske
d.
“It will be just fine.” Lincoln said.
“What about Tom and Eddie?
Anger flashed across Lincoln’s face and then disappeared just as quickly as it had come. “Just leave things to me.”
Austin looked about to say something, but stopped himself.
Hank had a bad feeling about this. None of these men seemed the type for kindness with his hands secured, he would have to wait, hoping for an opportunity to present itself.
After what seemed like an hour, but was likely a matter of minutes, the patter of feet and rumblings of conversation filtered in through the doorway. One at a time a stream of familiar faces began pouring into the operating room. Each of them still had their wrists bound behind their backs. Most of them looked down at the floor while they shuffled in, some were conversing with those around them, and others looked about the room, eyes wide, like trapped animals. Following the hospital group into the room were several of Lincoln’s men, rifles trained on the hostages. Once everyone was in the room a couple of the men stood in the doorway, weapons held loosely in front of them.
Lincoln stepped over in front of the men and turned around to the group. With a used car salesman grin he addressed the room. “Thank you for the weapons and food. We will put it to good use.” He started to turn around and then said, “Oh...one last thing.” Spinning back around he held the bloody shears up and said, “Anyone know who else Tom, Hank, and Rachael arrived with?”
Nobody said anything.
Austin said, “I know who was with them.”
“Not you. I want to make this...interesting. I will ask nice one more time. Who?”
A few people began looking around, but nobody said a word.
“Well okay then.” Lincoln walked over to the nearest person.
The boy looked to be in his mid-teens. Hank had never met him, only passed him in the hall a couple times. The dark haired kid normally had a large smile on his face, but now cowered in fear. His eyes locked on the shears and he began to tremble.
“If you answer my question I’ll cut off all of your fingers and gouge out your eyes.” He reached behind the kid’s back and grabbed one of his wrists, lifting his hand up next to the shears. Looking out toward the group, he said, “Now we do it the hard way.”
Before he could cut off a finger, Kelly stood up and said, “Leave the kid alone. It was me. I arrived with Tom.”
Looking down at the kid, Lincoln smiled and said, “Aren’t you just lucky.” He let go of the kid’s wrist and walked over to where Kelly stood. “Well, well, well...you must be his wife. If I remember right, Tom said family, not just wife...so...” He looked around, rubbing his chin. “I’m thinking there were others with you.” Looking behind Kelly at Sam hunched on the floor, he said, “Maybe a little boy.”
“Leave him!” Kelly shuffled backwards, directly in front of Sam.
Grinning, Lincoln sniffed the air in front of Kelly, licked his lips, and said, “As much as I’d like to have you darling, I think I have a better plan.” He turned back toward the door. “Trips! Grab the kid.”
“Nooo!” Kelly screamed.
Hank stepped forward. “Take me. Leave him out of it, he’s just a kid.”
Lincoln neared the doorway, stopped, turned, and then walked over to the teenager he had terrified earlier. Drawing the pistol from the holster on his side, he pointed it at the kid’s thigh and pulled the trigger. The boom was deafening in the small space. The large caliber pistol ripped a giant hole in his leg, blowing red and white chunks out the back. The boy’s face went ghost white and he fainted to the ground, never letting out a sound.
Everyone stood in silence. Kelly hunched down next to Sam, wrapping him in her arms, sobbing. Little Sam buried his face into her lap.
“One more word and the next shot is in the head...and another person for every word after that.” Lincoln shouted. He swung the pistol around, pointing at several people’s faces. “This is not a democracy. This is not a debate. This is not up to you.” He looked over at Trips. “Grab the kid. Anyone makes a peep, shoot them and the person next to them.” After that he stormed out of the room, leaving everyone trembling and quiet.
A couple of the men raised their rifles at the group while Trips walked over and pulled Sam out of Kelly’s arms. He screamed, sobbing and kicking. Tears poured from Kelly’s eyes as she struggled to breathe. She reached out with her arms, kneeling on the floor, pleading with her eyes. Sam desperately reached back for her, terror and tears filling his eyes. The thugs left the room, Sam in tow.
After the large metal door closed the room sat in silence, interrupted only by Kelly’s sobbing. She had collapsed to the hard tile, hysteria taking over.
From outside the door loud scrapping and banging could be heard.
Dennis moved across the room, listening at the door. Muffled voices could be heard through the thick steel, along with the clangs of metal on metal.
Hank stepped over to the instrument cart and began looking over its contents. Finding a pair of what looked like high tech wire cutters, he spun around and used his bound hands to dig through the contents until he grasped the clippers. He turned to the person next to him and said, “Spin around.” Back to back it was a bit awkward to get the zip ties cut, but once one of them was free he quickly worked his way through the remaining people, freeing everyone’s hands.
After removing Kelly’s zip ties, Hank kneeled down next to her. She never moved, still crying inconsolably. “We will get him back.” He wasn’t just saying this to make her feel better; he really felt that they would get Sam back. They had been through so much and were always able to find a way. Their ordeals had made him confident in both their abilities and the guidance of God.
Breaking the near silence was the sudden blare of a car horn from outside. And then another. Hank ran over to the large windows that overlooked the back parking lot. Peering out the glass, he heard another horn start blasting. Two of Lincoln’s goons came running into view almost directly below. They each carried several pieces of wood, maybe dowels, it was tough for Hank to tell from high up.
Nearly everyone had now joined Hank at the windows, all of them watching in near fascination as the two men worked their way to a couple different cars. Everyone felt a sense of dread. None of them knew yet exactly what was happening, but they knew it was not good, and the pit of their stomachs warned them with what felt like a lead weight.
Like men at a car wash preparing to detail a car, each man swung the car door open, leaned in, and began working on the obscured driver’s seat. Within a few seconds another blaring car horn was added to the mix. It cut out, but came back on after the guy worked on the seat a bit more. They continued leap frogging from vehicle to vehicle until they were both out of wooden dowels.
Even through the thick glass the horns were loud. Hank knew the sound would carry for miles, drawing demented and undead from the entire town and beyond.
Turning back around, Hank surveyed the room, trying to decide the best course of action. On the far side of the room a couple people were kneeling down helping the kid that had been shot in the leg. He still lay unmoving on the floor. There was a small pool of blood spreading around his legs, some of it smeared by those that worked on him.
At the same time both Hank and Dennis raced across the room and tested the large steel door. When it didn’t budge an inch, they knew they were in trouble.
Hank turned toward Dennis and said, “I think we’re in a bit of a pickle.” He hesitated a moment and then added, “I’ve never liked pickles.”
Chapter 7: The Return
Tom sat on the dusty cement, his back resting against a long tool bench. Over the past few hours he had snuck a few looks out the window above him. Infected dotted the yard and driveway, stumbling around in search of him and Eddie. Groans could occasionally be heard through the thin glass. A few times, one or more of the infected would make their way to the door, banging and scratching at it, but none had made their way inside. Ed
die sat next to him, staring off into space. Neither of them had said a word for a couple hours, worried that it would be heard by one of the infected.
Looking over at Eddie, Tom wondered what he was thinking. After a few minutes Eddie turned toward Tom, shrugged his shoulders, made a motion like he was playing cards, smiled, and then returned to staring ahead. He had been through a lot, but he was going to be alright.
From somewhere outside came several loud barks. It was the first sounds of agitation that they had heard from the infected since getting inside the shop. Both Tom and Eddie spun their heads around, listening intently. The huffs and barks continued, growing in volume as more joined in.
Tom slowly rose to his feet and eased his head up high enough to peer out the window. The hundreds of infected that previously milled about the yard and forest aimlessly were now rushing across the driveway and out of view to the front of the shop. More continued to filter out of the forest, following their brethren.
“What in the world is going on?” Eddie whispered from beside Tom.
“Something’s drawing their attention...I’m just glad it’s not us.” Tom replied.
“No kidding. If they all run off after whatever it is, we can jet.”
“They are definitely after somebody.”
“Sucks for them.” Eddie added.
Tom looked back out the window and said, “Let’s just make use of it.”
After several minutes neither of them could see any remaining infected. They gave it a few additional minutes just to be safe and then headed for the door.
Standing at the door, Tom popped out his empty magazine, slammed in his last fresh one, and charged the rifle. He eyed the pistol in Eddie’s hand and said, “Ammo?”
Eddie patted his chest pocket and said, “Two more mags.”
Tom nodded his head. “It’ll have to do.” He knew if they got caught out in the open again they were doomed.
Carefully easing the door open, Tom surveyed the driveway. No movement other than scraps of half burnt garbage dancing in the breeze. He pushed the door all the way open and stepped out into the afternoon sun, rifle tight to his shoulder. Eddie swept out behind him, covering to the side with his pistol.
The Demented Z (Book 2): Desolation Page 8
