Chris tried to get to his feet, but someone kicked him in the back and he felt another strike to the back of his head. In that moment, he began coming to the realization that if he didn’t get up and take control of the situation, it wouldn’t be long at all before he would be screwed.
In an explosive move fueled by Chris’s athleticism, he twisted his body and jutted up to his knees and onto his feet. He arranged his arms before his face as his hands coiled into fists, poising himself to strike at whoever came at him. When no one did, he relaxed a bit, but only for a second, because what he saw next wasn’t something he’d ever expected to see.
Barbie had engaged the two remaining combatants and was now fighting them both. With one young man’s hair in her grasp, she rocketed her knee into his face, sending him to the ground in a bloody, blubbering heap. When the second joined in, she fought him off with a barrage of solid punches to his face before finishing him with another to his Adam’s apple. He fell to the ground alongside his cohort, coughing and gagging, barely able to breathe after the blow.
Chris stood dumbfounded and rubbed his head while he tried willing some of his pain away. “Holy shit!” he said, though no one could hear him.
Barbie didn’t even look his way. She moved quickly past and immediately to Robbie, struggling to pull him away from the young boy he was maiming.
Chris moved in to assist, and after a struggle, the two removed Robbie from his victim. Chris disengaged not long after, when Barbie instantly began intensely scolding her boyfriend for his behavior.
Jessi stood close by and remained uninvolved, observing the activity with about half her attention. She was still dancing and singing, still very much consumed by the music and the ambience of the concert. She hadn’t even noticed that Chris had gotten involved in the scuffle.
A distressed and highly irritated look on her face, Barbie walked over to Chris and Jessi after her chat with Robbie, shaking her head back and forth in disgust. After rubbing the knuckles on the hand she’d used to knock down one of her adversaries, she motioned with a finger for one or both of them to lend her an ear.
Chris took a quick look Jessi’s way and realized it would be up to him. He leaned in and his ear met with Barbie’s lips.
“I’m really sorry about all this. Robbie is super drunk!” she said. “I’m going to take him out of here so he can cool down. Do you guys have any water in your cooler?”
Chris nodded his response. “We do…but I think it’s better if we all go! It’s getting too hectic in here for me, anyway!” He then motioned for the group to follow him.
Jessi remained static at first until receiving an explanation from her cousin. Then, after rolling her eyes, she reached for Chris’s hand, allowing him to lead her and the others through the all-singing, all-dancing field of concertgoers.
It took a while to break free from the densest portions of the crowd, but looking just ahead of him, Chris could see a light at the end of the tunnel. An open area in the field lay not far away. He knew it would be best to at least get to that point and then reacquaint himself with their location before continuing. Once there, they could choose a path away from the swarm to get back to the parking lot.
As he trudged on, making it to the edge of the crowd, Jessi’s hand went limp and he lost his grip on it. He turned his head to look for it, only glancing down at it for a second before reaching back to intertwine his fingers with hers. At the point of grabbing hold, his fingers slipped away. It felt like her hand had somehow gotten wet. He slowed his pace and reached back again, this time attempting to grasp her entire hand in his. He took a longer glimpse this time around, and that was when Chris noticed Jessi’s hand was covered in a liquid, dark red in color, with the consistency of syrup.
An instantaneous need to investigate further hitting him in the gut, Chris stopped walking and turned around. His girlfriend’s body, hair, and clothes were now covered in what he could only guess was blood.
Jessi’s eyes were wide, and she was no longer dancing. Her body was shaking, and she was mouthing something, though Chris couldn’t make out the words over the music and crowd noise.
Chris placed both hands on Jessi’s head, examining her. “Hey! What the hell happened to you?” He didn’t know if she could hear him or not, but it didn’t matter. Chris didn’t know where the blood had come from. He assumed it was Jessi’s, and with that, he began slipping into a panic as adrenaline started to pump its way through his bloodstream. “Jessi? Are you hurt?” He put his mouth to her ear and repeated the question.
Far enough away from the speakers now, Chris could hear her whimpering reply. “I-I don’t know. We were walking…and I thought…it felt like someone spilled their drink on me.”
“It’s not a drink,” Chris said, trying his best to keep his composure. “I’m pretty sure it’s blood.”
Jessi looked at him frantically. “Blood?” Her hands moved to her prized head of hair. “What? It’s not mine, is it?”
Chris looked his girlfriend over, his eyes scouring every inch of her head, face, and the rest of her body. He looked for knife wounds or bullet holes or anything else his young mind could think of, having never been placed in a situation even remotely similar before. He couldn’t find anything wrong or out of place, other than the fact Jessi had somehow gotten someone’s blood all over her. But whose blood? And how?
While he tried rubbing some of the blood away from her face with his hands, Chris looked over Jessi’s shoulder, discovering that Barbie and Robbie were no longer directly behind them, as they had been all the way up until a moment ago. His hands fell upon Jessi’s shoulders, and his stare went to the ground, where he could now see that Barbie was down on her knees, with one of her hands covering her mouth. His eyes tracked just beyond her. Robbie was there too. He was lying on his back alongside her. And half of his head was missing.
Time seemed to slow at first for Chris. He could only hear his heart beating in his ears, and nothing else in that instant. Then, seconds after, the entire scene unfolded in front of him as if someone had pressed the fast-forward button on the timeline of his life.
While music continued to flood the speakers, the vocalists could no longer be heard singing the lyrics to their songs. Then the sounds of the guitars and drums and other instruments slowly died, followed by the unmistakable high-pitched squealing sound of microphones feeding back into speakers.
As the music faded away, Chris’s ears perked up upon hearing another rather unmistakable sound, something he’d heard only in one other location before—a gun range. One that his father had taken him to a handful of times to learn how to shoot, unbeknownst to his mother. It was the popping, thundering sound of rapid gunfire, and it came in long bursts, seeming to echo from every direction all around him. The shots were soon followed and accompanied by young voices crying out and screams of terror. The entire setting surrounding them went haywire and completely fell apart.
Chris turned and forcefully dragged Jessi to the ground with him. With Jessi’s body tensing against his, she began sobbing uncontrollably. Chris wrapped his arms around her and held onto her for dear life while the shots rang out around them without pause. He instinctively rolled his head to the side to survey the landscape for incoming danger while young people scattered about in all directions.
Still located amongst the crowd, it wasn’t long before Chris realized he had a decision to make. He knew that he, Jessi, and Barbie could not stay where they were much longer.
He looked over at Jessi’s cousin, who was kneeling beside the inert body of her nearly decapitated boyfriend. She was bawling and screaming, and what remained of her restraint was on the verge of tumbling out of control. He knew any attempt to move her, or any effort to get her to disengage would be futile and would surely end up in conflict. Chris could almost predict her response. She’d probably just refuse to leave, or if she did decide to go along, she’d only do so if it meant not leaving Robbie behind.
Chris couldn’t bear
the thought of having to manhandle a half-headless, two-hundred-pound dead body along on their exodus. It was hard enough trying to think of the right words to say to Barbie after she’d probably watched him die only moments ago. He studied Jessi’s expression while the multitudes of young people continued to spread out in every direction, nearly colliding with them at times. She had frozen stiff at the point of seeing Robbie’s body, and the gunshots were only making matters worse for her. She looked incredulous through her tears, appearing as though she simply couldn’t believe any of this was really happening.
Chris considered her and recalled their many conversations regarding the country’s issues with gun violence, as well as Jessi’s beliefs on the matter. He was well aware of her mortal fear of guns and her overall carefree approach to life. He knew she hadn’t a clue what to do. But Chris did.
Though he’d never prepared himself for anything quite like this, Chris had been lectured by his father about similar occurrences and the possibility of someday being present during an active-shooter or localized-terror attack. The country had become increasingly unstable over the years since 9/11, and it was wise to be wary of danger and, as well, ready for it to rear its ugly head even when you least expected it. He’d been to the shooting range with his dad countless times and had gone camping and backpacking, spending hours outdoors, learning skills his dad had been so adamant that he and his siblings learn, citing that those skills bolstered the human will to survive.
But above all, two of the things Chris’s father had a habit of saying to him stood out among the rest, one of which regarded communication. It was important never to allow yourself to become cut off from your support group. Always be prepared to find some way of communicating your situation so assistance can be obtained. Chris remembered his dad mentioning the tactical use of telephones, the internet, radios, and even smoke signals and carrier pigeons, even though the latter two were stated in jest. The bottom line was to utilize whatever was available, and to do whatever it took to get the message through.
The second nuance Chris remembered his father homing in on was how important it was not to do what everyone else was doing. Separate yourself from the majority or where most people were congregating, and do so as quickly and as safely as you could. He recollected that in any active-shooter situation, the typical objective was collateral damage: killing as many people as possible before the shooter is put down by a good guy with a gun. Stay away from crowds, but find cover quickly. And try your best to eliminate any risk of being trampled by a fleeing stampede fed by panic.
Chris knew he’d already done this by leading his friends to where they were situated now. Scanning the scene, he palmed his back pocket, remembering in that moment, he’d left his cell phone inside his backpack in Jessi’s car after turning it off to prevent hearing from and being reprimanded by his parents for missing his curfew. Jessi’s phone was in her pocket, but knowing her as well as he did, it probably had only about fifteen percent battery left. He could make a call or send a few texts, but he needed to remain in contact. And he didn’t even want to ask Barbie for hers, especially now. Chris needed to get to his phone.
Chances were, the authorities had already somehow been alerted to this, but he knew it was always better to have more options at his disposal. Chris needed to call home. He needed to get ahold of his dad. His dad knew prepping. He knew survival skills. He knew guns. Hell, the man probably owned more guns than anyone Chris had ever met before. His dad would know what to do.
Instead of trying to get Jessi and Barbie to follow him back to the car, Chris decided it best to have them remain where they were, but he wanted to move them far enough away from the crowd and find a spot for them where they could be shielded from the shooting. He knew he could get to the car faster by going alone. Jessi, in her current state, would only slow him down. He knew Barbie was a sprinter—an athlete, same as he was, but after what she’d most recently experienced, Chris assumed she wasn’t in any shape to go on a run with him.
Chris scanned the fence line behind him, soon coming across a large oak tree. He then crawled over to Barbie and put his hands on her shoulders gently, so as not to startle her. “Barbie…I’m going to Jessi’s car to get my phone. I need you and Jessi to stay together until I get back.” Chris tapped her shoulder and pointed at the oak tree. “Can you guys wait for me over there, near that tree?”
Barbie’s movements were hesitant, and she seemed relatively unresponsive at first. She nodded slightly, then froze and turned to regard the tree Chris was pointing at. “Yeah…but what about Robbie? I can’t just leave him here.”
Chris wanted to tell Barbie how he felt about that. He knew it was pointless to take Robbie along with them, but he didn’t know the right words to get his point across. He could feel his heart pulling for her as the tears rolled from both corners of her eyes. “I’ll…leave that up to you. I know how much he meant to you…and I’m sorry, Barbie. I’m truly sorry. But I have to go.”
Chris rose and went to Jessi, who gave him a ‘deer in the headlights’ look. “I’m going to the car to get my phone. I need to call my dad. I need the keys.”
Jessi didn’t say anything at first, her eyes transfixed on Robbie’s body. Her eyelashes fluttered, and after a few seconds, she reached into her back pocket and handed Chris her phone.
Chris looked it over, realizing Jessi hadn’t a clue what she’d handed him. “Jess, hon…I need your keys.”
“Oh…shit. Sorry.”
Chris tapped the power button while Jessi dug into another pocket for her keys. Sure enough, it was worse than he’d guessed. The battery icon was blinking red at eight percent.
“Chris? Wait…what’s happening?” Her voice rattled as she handed her keys to him.
“Someone’s shooting into the crowd,” Chris said. “Robbie got hit.”
“Hit? You mean he’s dead?”
“Jessi, stop it.” Chris put his hands on her cheeks. “You can see him…he’s right over there. You know what happened.” He brushed some of her hair away from her face. “Look—I need you to stay with Barbie. You two stay put and stay together no matter what until I get back to you.”
Jessi slowly nodded, and several tears fell from her eyes. She didn’t even bother wiping them away.
Chris crawled with Jessi to where Barbie was. He told them both to stay as low as possible and make their way to the fence line and the tree as soon as they could. He wiped some of Robbie’s blood from Jessi’s forehead with his sleeve, kissed her, and sprinted off in the direction of the parking lot.
Nine
Winchester, Virginia
Thursday, March 27, 11:39 p.m. EDT
Nihayat al’ayam minus 21 minutes
The vibration pattern of Adam’s smartphone rattled the nightstand, awakening him in a fluster. The screen alight and shining brightly against the ceiling, he reached for it while he struggled to open his eyes, bringing it to within reading distance after releasing it from an annoyingly short charging cord.
Through indistinct vision, he could see that multiple icons had accumulated at the top of the display. Some indicated application updates, while others were indicative of unread text messages and at least two missed calls. “Great. If that’s work with another one of their alleged emergencies…they can have my resignation.”
Elisabeth rolled over and put a hand to Adam’s shoulder, her fingernails pressing delicately on his skin. “Mmm…what’s going on? It’s not work, is it?”
“I’m not sure. I hope not.”
She moaned and wriggled under the warmth of the blanket. “What time is it?”
Adam yawned with squinted eyes. “Looks like…just after eleven thirty.” He sat up a bit and rubbed the corners of his eyes as his vision started to clear. Then he caught sight of something that shocked him as he swiped downward on the smartphone’s screen, exposing the full text of his notifications. “Oh, shit,” he said, tapping the envelope icon. His voice gained urgency. “Oh, shit!”
“It’s Chris.”
Elisabeth shot up from the bed. “Chris? On your phone? Where is he?”
Adam scrolled through the messages without saying anything.
Elisabeth slid off the bed and away, covering herself in a bathrobe, and jetted out of the bedroom and down the hall. She returned a minute later, pulling the tangled tresses of her hair into a hair tie. “It’s almost midnight and he’s not in his room. He should’ve been home hours ago. Where the heck is he, Adam?”
“He’s…at a concert. At Jiffy Lube pavilion near Manassas.” Adam rose and reached for his pants. He hesitated, wanting to inform his wife of the truth, but not wanting to rile her up. Or frighten her. “There’s been a shooting.”
Elisabeth’s voice dive-bombed into a panic. “What?! Wait a second—what are you talking about?” A rare expletive slipped from her jaws. “What in the hell is he doing at a concert?! On a school night?! Argh! I bet he’s with that floozy Jessi again. That…girl! I swear before God, I’m going to—”
“Liz, calm down!” Adam held up a hand. “Did you even hear what I said? There’s been a shooting.” He brushed past her, setting his phone down on the way to the closet to get dressed.
“A shooting…” she murmured. “Jesus…another one.”
“Yes, another one. And our son is there.”
Elisabeth shuddered. Her face turning pale, she wrapped her arms tightly around her bathrobe while she trembled. “Adam—how many casualties? Is Chris okay? He isn’t hurt, is he?”
Adam didn’t respond immediately. He put on the first T-shirt he could find, grabbed a hoodie and a light jacket, then turned and left the closet.
Elisabeth stopped him with a stiff grip, holding fast to his elbow. “Wait. Just…hold on. Where are you going?”
“Where do you think? I’m going to go get him.”
Adam’s wife’s trembling gained prominence. “No, wait. You can’t just leave…you can’t just go there.”
Until Nothing Remains: A Hybrid Post-Apocalyptic Espionage Adventure (A Gun Play Novel: Volume 1) Page 10
