He listened and waited, having already counted the timing of the steps. He paused a moment longer, setting his rifle behind him and against the wall. When he saw the latch twitch he knew that the person on the other side had grabbed it and was fully committed. Carl grabbed the latch and yanked the door open, pulling the trespasser off guard and aiding their momentum with his other hand. The invader made a muffled grunt as they collided with the bunk beds, then tripped and fell to the floor, stunned.
Carl was there, his knee in the back of the prone figure and the gun held against the back of his head. “Don’t breathe,” he hissed. “Talk. You got three seconds to live.”
“Carl!” gasped the suddenly frantic Shelby. “You’ve got to run!”
Carl’s eyes narrowed. He did not look anywhere but at the muscular woman beneath him but he was aware of Jessie and the kids rousing themselves groggily from their bunks. “Bought yourself another three seconds,” he told her.
“Some guy showed up,” she wheezed, “brought a bunch of mercs with him. Said they were looking for you, a couple of kids, and Jessie.”
Carl swore.
“Fuck!” Jessie echoed. “How’d he find us?”
Carl eased up on Shelby and let her twist around. She massaged her elbow, which had been trapped in a twisted position beneath her. “How long?” He asked her.
“I heard Aggie and Harold talking to him while I was taking a shit,” she said. “They played dumb until the guy bragged about the men he had with him and all the guns they brought. Then they made a deal…”
Carl watched her eyes go to Jessie. He shook his head and looked away, disbelieving it even though he knew it was true. “You’ve got to run!”
“What deal?” Dusty asked as he slipped down from the upper bunk and wiped the fog of sleep from his eyes.
Shelby looked at Jessie again, then looked back at Carl.
“I get to stay,” Jessie said venomously. “That’s the deal.”
“Let’s go,” Carl said, slipping his boots on and yanking the strings up to tighten and tie them. He slipped on his jacket and looked at the others. They were slower to act but Jessie had begun getting dressed and so had Tanya. Dusty hesitated still, his eyes on Jessie as she got ready.
“You don’t need to go, you can stay?” he sounded confused.
“No I can’t,” Jessie said, shaking her head. “I won’t leave you guys, specially not for some fuckwit that thinks he can buy my friendship.”
“They love you here,” Dusty said, still not understanding.
“They don’t know me Dusty,” she told him. “They know a drugged out slut that had a makeup crew, rehearsed lines, and as many takes as it took to get the right look.”
“Still, you’d be safe…”
“Enough!” Carl snapped, grabbing Dustin’s shoulder and giving it a shake. “Ain’t got time for this shit. Get your gear. You got five seconds.”
“Then what, you going to shoot me?” Dusty asked defiantly.
“Fuck this,” Carl spat. He lashed out, driving his fist into Dustin’s jaw and dropping him like a sack of floor. Tanya squeaked in shock and started toward him, but Carl was already bending over the boy and tossing him over his shoulder.
“Tanya, get his rifle,” Jessie intervened.
Tanya started a little, then nodded and grabbed Dusty’s weapon. She grabbed his spare clothes and shoved them in a small bag they had acquired since arriving at the camp. She looked up at Carl to see if he had anything else he wanted. He turned from her to Shelby, then nodded. “Strip.”
“What?” Tanya asked, stunned.
“Take your clothes off!” Carl repeated. “Now!”
Moving automatically, she slipped her shirt off then dropped her pants. She hooked her fingers in her panties and was about to drop them when Carl told her that was enough. “You too,” he said, turning to Shelby. “You’re similar height and in the dark, wearing a jacket…”
Shelby’s eye widened. “Look, I just came to warn you, I’m not-“
“Shut up,” he snapped. “Yes you are. You came here, you risked it all and you knew it. Can’t back out now.”
She stared at him a moment, then cursed as her eyes moistened. “God damn you!” she hissed, but she slipped off her own clothes before grabbing the shirt and pants Tanya had discarded. Tanya followed suit and in a few moments they wore one another’s clothing.
“Here,” Carl said, handing Shelby his jacket, then he turned back to Tanya. “Lay low five minutes, then make for the same house we found on the way in. Wait there two days, if nobody comes, you’re on your own.”
“Carl-“
“Shut up,” he snapped. “Now do it!”
She nodded, her eyes brimming with sudden tears.
Carl picked up Dustin again, whom he had discarded to give Shelby his jacket. “Shelby, grab his rifle. All right, let’s go,” he said. Wordlessly, they followed him.
He was out the door then, heading down the steps and angling toward the same fence he had worked on setting up earlier that day. He planned on heading behind the buildings and trailer, traveling even behind the park model home that Aggie and Harold stayed in. He stopped short when he heard a rhythmic thumping to the wind that blew the gritty dirt. He looked up and around, trying to track the faint sound. He moved as he looked and, once he reached a clearing from the desert vegetation, he spotted it.
It spotted him as well. A floodlight in the nose of the chopper speared into the darkness of the desert night and caught them in the center. Carl cursed as he was blinded, but he pushed on desperately. The chain gun on the chopper spat a lance of fire that heralded chunks and fragments of dirt that exploded out of the ground in front of Carl. The thunder of the .30 caliber bullets tore the night apart, announcing for anyone within a few miles that they had been spotted.
Soldiers shouted and yelled as well, running from different locations around the campground towards them. Carl dropped to a knee and let Dustin slump to the ground. He raised his M4 and aimed, intending to destroy the damning searchlight. He stopped, his finger short of an ounce of the pressure needed to fire. The downdraft from the chopper’s blades would guarantee he was wasting ammo. Maybe he could get lucky and put some bullets through the belly of the chopper, but he doubted even that would work. It was a military chopper, armored in state of the art lightweight armor that would shrug off small arms fire.
He turned, his rifle sweeping around as he tried to get a clear target. Some soldiers were running, others had already fallen into position or were scrambling into one. Weapons were trained on them already, enough to make him doubt the wisdom of moving. If it were just him, he knew what he’d do. He knew how to move, how to get away, and how to strike back.
“You take that deal,” Carl said, turning to Jessie.
“Fuck you Carl! No fucking way I’m going to-“
Carl pulled her to him. “Yes, there is,” he said. He kissed her, hard, then pushed the stunned woman away. “You take that deal and live. Go get Tanya take care of her.”
“Carl… wait! I-“
“You still talk too much,” he said. He turned to the mercs who were now settled in and had them dead to rights. “Where’s that shit-for-brains Garza?”
Marko strode forward from where he had been kneeling, a pistol held in his hand at his side. “Sergeant Waters,” he greeted, his tone clipped. “I don’t think you’ll be shooting you way out of this one, si?”
“Wouldn’t put it past me,” Carl bantered, buying time.
“Drop your guns Carl, all of you,” Garza said, ignoring him. “There’s nowhere to go. Drop your weapons and give us the kids. Nobody gets hurt that way.”
“Except for Tanya and Dustin,” Carl said.
Garza scowled. “Nobody gets hurt,” he repeated, emphasizing each word.
“Captain!” one of the men said from slightly in front of him.
Garza glanced at him, briefly, but his eyes snapped back to Carl almost as quickly. “What is it, sergeant
?” he asked.
“I thought the girl was white?”
Carl saw Garza’s eyes leave him again. Carl smiled even before Garza spat out a particularly vehement string of words in Spanish. “Where is she?” Garza said once his temporary Tourette’s syndrome ended.
Carl smiled.
“Where. Is. She.” Garza said through clenched teeth.
“Somewhere safe.”
Garza walked forward, breaking the perimeter intentionally. Carl watched his gun shaking in his hand as he struggled to deal with the rage he felt at being denied his prize yet again.
Garza stared at Carl for a long moment, then slowly raised his pistol. “Drop your weapon,” he said in a deadly calm voice.
Carl turned to look at Jessie and Shelby. He nodded and slowly slipped his own rifle off, then let it fall to the ground. He heard the weapons of his makeshift squad fall to the dirt behind him. Carl followed suit, slowly, with his pistol. “Now what, dickhead?”
Garza jerked at the deadpan nature of the insult. He ground his teeth and jerked his pistol, squeezing the trigger and squeezing off a round. Carl clenched even as the bullet passed beside him. He heard somebody else collapse to the ground, but he was already in motion. He drove the Captain’s arm high with his right arm and punched the knife he had pulled from his waist into Garza’s hip. They collapsed to the ground and Carl lost the grip on his knife as Garza managed to roll over beneath him.
An explosion beside his head made his eyes swim and his ear ring. Disoriented by the concussion of the near miss, he only barely noticed Garza’s other hand slam into the other side of his head. Carl tried to drive his knee into the Captain while fending off the gun wielding hand. It fired again, further deafening him. This time the bullet bit into his hamstring, igniting a needle of pain from mid-thigh to his knee.
Carl drove his elbow into Garza’s jaw, then tried to crush his throat with his forearm. Garza was struggling frantically to break the hold and, in the process, managed to slip his arm free of Carl’s restraining hand. Carl groped desperately for it, bumping it even as the mercenary captain fired into his side. Carl jerked, feeling the bullet graze his side then crunch into his shoulder blade. Carl’s entire arm went numb, robbing him of leverage.
Marko pushed him over easily and scrambled to his feet. He cursed, limping, and pointed his gun at Carl’s head. Carl started rolling towards his knife and, just as he reached for it, the merc fired his pistol and kicked dirt up into Carl’s face. Carl rolled back and stared up, stone faced and bleeding.
“Carl!” Jessie screamed, rushing towards him in spite of the army of guns pointed at her. She collapsed on top of him, hugging him and crying while she tried to shield him with her body.
“Stupid zorra,” Garza swore.
Carl pushed her away with his good arm, grimacing as it forced his bad shoulder into the ground. “Live!” he hissed at her. Behind Jessie he saw Shelby staring at him from where she lay on the ground. Her gaze was unfocused and marred by the blood that was drying from the hole Marko’s earlier pistol shot caused.
Garza’s men had approached, one of them grabbed Jessie and pulled her away, kicking and screaming. Another two grabbed Dusty’s unconscious body and hauled him off. Garza stood there, pistol pointed at Carl’s head while he spit out a mouthful of blood.
“I’m going to make you hurt,” the merc said venomously. “You’re going to beg me before I’m done with you.”
“Why wait?” Carl asked.
“First you’ll tell me where the girl is,” Garza promised, spittle flying between his teeth. “Then I’ll have my fun.”
“Better get that hip checked,” Carl suggested drily, “it could be a long night.”
Garza’s eyes narrowed. Carl braced himself even before he felt the steel toed combat boot slam into his ribs not once but twice, leaving him breathless and seeing colored spots. A third kick to his head left him seeing nothing.
* * * *
Tanya’s stomach twisted, reminding her that she had not eaten for a day and a half. Hungry or not, food was the last thing on her mind. She lay on the same berm of sand and dirt she had rested on when they had first come to Needles. Now she waited, her rifle in position in front of her and a carpet remnant, dusted with dirt and sand, resting across her back. She had lain there for nearly a day now, waiting for her friends to come to her. Friends that she feared were gone.
Two days. Carl had told her to wait two days and if nobody came, to make the best life she could. Except, Tanya knew, there was no best life ahead of her. She had no idea what to do next—no idea how to survive on her own. Finally, after another half an hour of stewing over her situation, Tanya knew what she had to do. Carl would have screamed at her for it, but she had no choice.
She slid out of her sniper’s nest and headed back to the southwest. Her training under Carl in the role of a sniper may not have been complete, but it was thorough enough that she knew where to go. Instead of returning to the campground where her father’s mercenaries had finally found them, she veered to the west, heading back to the expressway that had brought the exhausted group into Needles in the first place. She tried to find what cover she could but the ground was flat and her only real hope for secrecy was the dust that was blown about by the occasional dry gust of wind and the waves of heat that rose off the parched ground.
She covered the mile and half without incident, though her bladder began to complain otherwise. Anxious and nervous, Tanya ignored her body’s demands and cast about for another hiding spot. It took her a few minutes but she managed find one and slipped in next to the concrete barrier of the on ramp where it joined the expressway. She rearranged some of the debris that been trapped by the wind in the angled pocket of the union of concrete, camouflaging herself with blown tumbleweeds, an empty cigarette carton, and a twisted and torn metal street sign.
With the cover of the scope removed, Tanya peered through it and scoped out the campground from her slightly elevated position. Much of it was concealed by cabins, trailers, and the few saguaro cacti that remained, but she had enough of a view to see some of the mercs walking about. She studied them and realized quickly that they had adopted a defensive posture. They were on garrison duty. She slowly swung the rifle around, examining the campground and trying to remember the bits and pieces of intelligence gathering that Carl had taught her. She figured out where Carl was being kept easily once she spotted Jessie through her lens.
Her jaw tightened and her finger caressed her trigger. Why was Jessie free? She saw the woman talking to one of the soldiers, and by her body language Tanya knew the talk was one of Jessie’s tantrums. She almost felt sorry for the mercenary. Almost. Aggie tried to pull Jessie away but Jessie shrugged her off, then turned and slapped her. Tanya smiled and relaxed her grip. Whatever was going on with the woman, at least she remained on their side.
Harold and another one of the campers came to Aggie’s rescue, pulling Jessie forcibly away and taking her away from Harold and Aggie’s house. She reasoned that Garza must have commandeered it. A few moments later, she spotted a portable generator on a cart. That confirmed it for her, the mercs had Carl and Dusty in the house.
She counted her father’s soldiers, coming to an even 30 men, not including Garza or the pilot of the helicopter. She also studied weak points, finding nothing in the way they had set themselves up to defend the camp but noting that a well placed bullet could easily destroy the generator. She wondered if the M24 had enough punch to take out the chopper. She considered finding out, setting the crosshairs on the engine housing and caressing the trigger like it was the skin of a lover. The range was over a thousand yards, beyond what the rifle could effectively shoot or so Carl had told her. He had also told her he could hit something more often than not at 1300 yards, but it was not something she should try.
In the end, she took her finger off the trigger. Even if she did hit it, the bullet would have dropped to sub-sonic speeds by then and maybe even start to tumble. Not nearly enough
power left in it to do more than dent the paint of a hardened target. She ground her teeth in frustration and felt a twinge of pain from her bladder. A quick scan of the compound again and she decided to risk taking a quick pee break.
Back in position a few moments later, Tanya settled in to wait as long as it took. Day turned to evening and even though her throat ached for water and her joints ached to be stretched, she held her position. The agony turned to fatigue as the sun dipped beneath her; she had been forcing herself into alertness for almost 48 hours straight and she knew she could not go on much longer. Tanya glanced about, desperate for anything she could find to help her. Before she could figure anything out her vision became fuzzy and her head dipped. She caught herself, but after the fourth time it was beyond her ability to fight. Her chin rested on the ground and the dust shifted with each deep breath that she exhaled.
* * * *
Tanya woke up and found herself staring at a scorpion. She nearly jumped, but managed to confine her alarmed reaction to that of flaring her nostrils and sucking in a panicked breath. Another benefit of the enhancements she had been given was that she did not move when she slept. That led to waking up stiff and sore sometimes, or worse yet, with arms or legs numb from lack of proper circulation, but in this case it helped to save her from a venomous sting. She still wasn’t sure if that made it worth being stalked by a team of mercenaries.
Indecisive and terrified, she was distracted by the sight of the rotors spinning on the grounded helicopter. Her panic doubled with the realization that the mercs might be leaving. And if they were, they would be taking Dustin with them… what happened to Carl she could only guess. But first she had to deal with the scorpion. It was watching her, perhaps three inches from her arm while it sunned itself in the morning light. She stared at it, wondering what she could do. Moving slowly away might provoke it. Moving towards it? Yeah, not a chance! She cast about, looking for ideas, and then found herself wondering what would Carl do?
Wanted Page 25
