“I’m sure.”
“All right then.” Mohawk cut the restraints on their wrists and handed them the shovels. “What?” he said at Katie’s confused expression. “You expect us to do the digging?”
Yes, was Katie’s honest answer. This was a complication. She didn’t want to be the one standing over what her father buried beneath the soil when it went off.
“Get to work.” Mohawk took a seat on a tree trunk.
Katie exchanged a look with Darryl and tapped the ground with her foot. It said: ‘Be careful. There’s something under the soil.’ She wouldn’t know if he understood what she meant until they got busy digging their shovels in the dirt.
Darryl was not good with his hands – no surprise there – and he was either naturally unfit for the job or understood her earlier warning. He dug in a shallow manner, slicing a thin layer of dirt off at a time.
They wouldn’t keep digging this way. Eventually, they were going to come across what her father buried in the dirt. They would erupt into meaty chunks suitable only for dog food when they rained down. They needed to either stop digging altogether and get these guys to do it for them or get far enough away from the explosion that it wouldn’t affect them–
Then she hit upon an idea.
But first, they needed to find that device…
It was less likely to get set off if they dug lengthways rather than downwards. It had a pressure pad that would activate once enough of the soil was removed. She hoped it was still active and hadn’t stopped working, otherwise, this would be the shortest – and least effective – escape attempt in history.
She tapped Darryl on the foot with her own and nodded at the dry soil. Be careful. He worked slowly, removing one thin layer of soil at a time. They never moved their feet, not until they had to, and that was the worst part of the plan: accidentally setting the bloody thing off too early.
On they went, shaving one layer after another until Katie began to wonder if she picked the wrong location–
Clink!
It wasn’t her spade that struck it but Darryl’s.
Mohawk sat up and peered over at the excavation site.
“Just a rock,” Katie said.
Mohawk’s excited expression melted and Katie and Darryl got back to work. Katie took Darryl’s side and worked around the device, removing as much of the soil from its top as she dared.
They worked for an hour solid without taking a single break or looking up, the piles of dirt rising higher on either side. Katie reshaped the piles into two parallel lines so they formed a track. She stopped digging, wiped a hand across her sweaty brow and dug the tip of the shovel an inch in the soil so it stood upright.
Mohawk and Big Ears lazed on a pair of tree stumps, leaning back and staring generally at the forest and the night sky. The lack of movement caught Mohawk unaware and he snapped to attention, hand raising the machete resting on his lap.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” he said.
“I need to pee.”
“You don’t need to pee. Get back to work.”
“I’ve been working for an hour and I need to pee. And I’m going to pee.”
“Don’t be thinking you’re disappearing into the woods somewhere.”
Katie clicked her fingers in a caricature display of disappointment. “Dang. You caught me redhanded. I was going to shuffle into the sunset with these restraints around my ankles.”
Mohawk poked his machete at her. “Don’t make fun of me, girl. It’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
“Not before I pee.”
Despite himself, Mohawk snorted with amusement and his defensive guard folded. “Fine. Relieve yourself. But somewhere I can see you. Over there by those vegetable bushes. They look like they could do with a sprinkle.”
“It’ll kill them. I’ll go over here.”
“Not too close to the forest’s edge now.”
Katie shuffled directly away from the men and – more importantly – away from the device half-buried in the dirt.
“That’s far enough,” Mohawk said.
No, it’s not.
Katie took another few steps before coming to a stop. She pulled her trousers and underwear down, squatted, and got comfortable. She made eye contact with Darryl and nodded to the spot beside her. For once, the boy didn’t blush.
“I need to go too,” Darryl said.
Mohawk shook his head. “Sure. Let’s all have a pee party while we’re at it. And I thought only girls peed in pairs?”
Darryl slammed his shovel in the dirt and shuffled over beside Katie, separating them by a few yards.
He spoke under his breath so the men wouldn’t hear. “I’m not sure I can go.”
“Try.” Katie’s sprinkler system worked fine, forming a small puddle before it trickled down the incline and toward the shallow grave they dug. The soil was dry as a bone and hard with flintstones – as Katie’s aching muscles attested – and met the pressure pad on the edge of the square patch. It rubbed away a little of the dirt and revealed the pressure pad beneath it.
What sounded like a horse relieving itself splattered over the hard soil, spraying a yard in diameter. Katie blinked her eyes and rubbed at her nose. The smell was… pungent.
“Sorry,” Darryl said. “I’m dehydrated.”
And drinking asparagus juice by the smell of it.
But it gave her an idea. She achieved half of her objectives. Now to lure the bear to the honey…
Katie buttoned up her trousers.
“Now you mosey on over here,” Mohawk said. “And get back to work.”
“I’m thirsty,” Katie said.
“Maybe you wouldn’t have been so thirsty if you hadn’t relieved all the water from your system.”
“That’s not how the human body works–”
“Spare me the biology lesson. No water until you finish.”
“Give us a few mouthfuls and we’ll get the job done faster.”
Mohawk screwed up his lips. He didn’t like to have his authority undermined. His brother got to his feet with his water bottle.
“For Chrissake,” Big Ears said. “It’s only water. If that were me digging the hole, you’d give me a drop, wouldn’t you?”
“You’re not the one digging it. But fine. Give them some water. Your heart’s too soft, bro. It’ll get you in trouble one day.”
Big Ears rolled his eyes. “And you’ve always been wrong.”
“One day I won’t be.”
Today, if my plan works.
Big Ears stepped between the two furrows in the soil. It was all Katie could do not to stare at where he placed his feet. She couldn’t control the natural way her body curled and turned away, the way her face expected a disaster any second…
Then Big Ears stepped off the digging area and met them on the other side.
He missed the pressure pad by one inch.
One stinking inch.
“Here.” He extended the half-empty bottle with a friendly smile.
“Uh, thanks,” Katie said.
She opened the top and swallowed half of what remained and wiped her lips. Then Big Ears handed it to Darryl, who finished it off.
“Thirsty work, huh?” he said.
“Yeah.” Darryl enjoyed the liquid hitting his tongue. “I haven’t worked this hard in years.”
“You’re lucky. I’m the one who had to dig the latrine out a week ago. And I’ll be the one to cover it up and dig up another one later too.”
“I don’t envy you.”
They might have been a couple of friends enjoying an ice-cold beer during a particularly hot summer.
Any second now, that lad would turn and head back to his brother. He might walk back across the area they dug or he might not, choosing instead to walk around it and down the thin green grass on either side.
It was too risky.
Her plan had to work.
This was their moment.
Now or never.
“I
’m sorry,” Katie said. And she genuinely was.
But she wouldn’t let her friends die for these people.
“Sorry for what?”
“You’re the wrong brother.”
Katie planted her restrained feet as best she could and threw her weight forward, slamming her arms into the man before her.
He fell back, just as his older, uglier brother rushed to his feet, raising his machete as he came up.
Big Ears lost his grip on his machete as he fell back and seemed to fall in slow motion, endlessly rolling back.
He landed and hit the pressure pad with his backside.
Katie and Darryl dropped and covered their heads with their hands.
There was a distinctive click noise that grabbed Mohawk by the throat. “Jason! Don’t move!”
“What?” Big Ears rolled onto his side to peer up at his elder brother.
He moved.
Boom.
66
The brother imploded. One second he was there, the next he wasn’t.
A red mist mixed with dirt flew into the sky like it was on a mission. Once the deafening blast was done, chunks of bloody bodyparts rained down from the sky, landing with dull squishy thuds and spraying blood.
Katie reacted first, rolled over, and scooped up the blood-stained machete Big Ears dropped before he fell. She used it to slice the restraints at her ankles.
Glancing across the way, she spied the chasm that’d blown open, leaving a giant pockmark in the earth.
Struggling to his feet and barely visible through the red curtain, a figure writhed, struggling to his feet.
Katie used the blade to slice at Darryl’s restraints and helped him up. Mohawk struggled to maintain his balance.
She met his eyes.
He was pissed.
She felt the machete in her hand but decided it wasn’t such a good idea to challenge him hand-to-hand when you were responsible for annihilating his younger brother.
“Come on!” Katie yelled at Darryl. “Run to the barn! Go!”
They bolted through the former cabbage patch and the other vegetables that already began to grow wild. Darryl was as cumbersome as always and tripped twice before they got to the other side.
Katie glanced over her shoulder at the figure chasing after them.
They were in luck.
The blast had hurt him. He limped badly on one leg, machete clutched tight in one hand.
With cold murder in mind.
They reached the barn first. It would take him a full twenty seconds before he followed suit. Katie wished she had the keys on her. It severely reduced her options.
She entered the kitchen and scooped up one of the stools under the bar. Then she took off up the short flight of steps to the second level and placed the stool before a large set of wardrobes. She hopped on top of it.
“Keep an eye out for him,” she said. “Tell me when he comes in.”
Darryl didn’t blink as he focused his attention on the door on the other end of the lodge.
Katie grabbed a box and pulled it off the wardrobe. She lost her grip and it clattered to the floor. She bent down and unfastened the clasps. Inside, a Glock 43. God knows where her father got it from.
She scooped it up, ejected the magazine, checked it, turned the safety off, and aimed at the front door.
She half expected him to come through the door that very moment.
But he didn’t.
And he didn’t for the following ten seconds that yawned like hours.
“Stay behind me.” Katie got to her feet and edged down the steps and into the wide kitchen. She ran through each of the possible entrances. The main door and the windows along either side.
There were other entrances – secret ones – but they would be hard to find without already knowing they were there. You’d have to use the right key and not trigger the security system. But there was such a thing as blind luck and she wouldn’t let that defeat her today.
“Stand with your back to mine,” Katie said. “If you see him coming, shout.”
Darryl gave no indication he heard her. He was likely in shock. Witnessing a body exploding could have that effect on you. She was expecting it to happen and, thankfully, it had. Darryl was going to need some serious psychiatric help after all this was done and dusted.
Katie stood in the middle of the floor. She wouldn’t go near the door. She didn’t need to. She cycled through Mohawk’s options. Storm the lodge, not the best idea. Set fire to the lodge? A good idea but he needed to get access to the right resources and he didn’t know the right keys or where they were stored–
Her heart leapt into her throat.
His car. They drove it to the lodge. What if he had everything he needed in the trunk? What if he was getting explosives or fuel or fire from it? And what if he had an assault rifle? If any of those were options, he would be waiting outside for them to show their faces.
She couldn’t wait. Losing the lodge was too high a price to pay. She moved forward and to one side, at an angle to the door.
“Darryl, I need you to kick the door open,” she said.
“I thought I was supposed to keep watch on our backs?”
“This is the more pressing issue right now. Kick it open and dart back immediately. On the count of three. One, two, three!”
Darryl leapt forward and thrust a heavy boot at the door. It gave and swung open, slamming the opposite side before creaking shut again.
In the blink of an eye as the door flew open, Katie spotted Mohawk.
He wasn’t standing on the other side of the door. He wasn’t standing at the car’s trunk getting the tools he needed to burn the lodge down either.
He sat in the front seat of his car, his brother’s blood splattered across his face. His eyes burned with wild rage, promising violent vengeance.
Horror filled Katie at the thought of what he might do next. She could see the madness in those eyes.
Head back to her house and butcher the twins? Katie’s only hope, in that case, was for grandfather to have reached there already. She felt certain that he would have – unless he met his own distraction along the way.
Mohawk hit reverse and the car engine whined.
Katie bust the swinging door open again and opened fire on the rapidly shrinking front windscreen. With the splintered web across the window, she couldn’t tell if she hit him or not.
He reached the other end of the driveway and paused.
She must have injured him. A bullet in the chest, she thought. He likely couldn’t make it back to the house with the twins. Now he would be taking stock.
When she heard the engine roar, she knew then what his plan was. He was going to plough headlong into the lodge and preferably crush her in the process.
The last desperate act of a man driven insane.
Katie squared her shoulders and walked forward, gun raised. She ejected the magazine and slapped in a new one. She was going to need every shot if she hoped to take him down.
The engine roared one last time and–
Blam blam blam blam blam!
Someone else fired, two people approaching the driver’s side. Difficult to make them out with the car’s bright lights blinding her. The engine continued to chug and turn over.
One of the figures stepped into the light and approached her.
Katie’s grip on the pistol grew tighter.
“I never liked you handling guns.”
The voice came from Katie’s dreams, a voice she was certain she would never hear again.
“Mum?”
The engine quit and the lights cut out.
The purple spots in Katie’s vision did nothing to stop her recognising the way her mother walked, the sway of her hips and the arms she extended to the sides, welcoming Katie in for a hug.
Katie dropped the gun and ran toward her, burrowing deep into her smelly clothes. She was no longer the eighteen-year-old warrior forced to defend herself and the others. She was a five-year-old
girl who skinned her knee and needed mummy’s loving care and attention.
Nancy hummed a tune and hushed her to calm silence as Katie unloaded all her fears and angst and self-doubt in the form of tears into her mother’s coat.
Nancy pulled back. “You’re covered in blood!”
“Don’t worry.” Katie sniffled. “It’s not mine.”
Her mother’s expression was two parts confusion, one part relief.
They hugged again as a second figure approached. Steve. One of her mum’s old friends. Katie met him a few times over the years. She didn’t know him that well but she supposed that was going to change pretty soon.
“Where are the others?” her mother said.
“At home. They’ll be here any minute–”
A second car pulled onto the drive – a car Katie didn’t recognise. Her mother and Steve stepped between her and the car, a protective shield against any who might try to do her harm.
The lights remained low and figures spilt out from it – too many to fit inside the car ordinarily.
“Is the action over already?” Bill’s booming voice said.
“Mum? Is that you?”
Camden edged forward and performed the same move Katie had. He sprinted across the drive and launched himself into her arms. He bawled into her.
Mothers, Katie thought. They bring it out of all of us.
The others peered at the dead man in the other car and Katie and Darryl, caked in blood. None of it appeared to be much of a surprise.
“What happened to the other guy at the house?” Katie said. “The one with all the piercings?”
“Sunbathing beneath the stars,” Bill said. “You did a good job, kid.”
Katie beamed. Praise was a rare thing from the lips of Old Bill and ought to be savoured when it came. You never knew when you might be treated to it again.
The Walker family had come together, along with a bunch of new friends. They were going to have to work hard if they were to survive the coming days, months, and years.
Their story of survival had only just begun.
67
The office looked the same as it did when Laurie had last been summoned there. Reports and documents came in, others went out. Pieces of paper with men’s lives tallied in the corner. Some would be big numbers, others small. The blood toll would weigh heavy on the shoulders of any normal man, but Colonel Fitz appeared undisturbed by them.
Cut Off (Book 2): Cut Throat Page 23
