“No prisoners,” Guy said coldly.
Calvin somberly nodded to himself. “Yeah, our best advantage is taking him when he’s not on guard. The question is how?”
He scrunched his mouth to one side in thought. Then he glanced over to Naomi. “Any ideas?”
Naomi turned the paper to face her better. She bit into the side of her cheek as she reviewed the sketch of the razor-wire fence, junk cars, workshop, and two-story house. “If sneaking is not an option, we need to get them rallied up from the beginning.”
“Wait.” Richard stopped her. “You want them to shootat us?”
Naomi shook her head. “Not that I want them to, but if we can direct their eyes elsewhere, we can try to breach the fence from multiple locations and hit them from behind.”
Ms. Banks chuckled.
Richard cocked a brow. “The pastor’s not a prude after all.”
“I’m not laughing at that,” Ms. Banks said. “It’s Gideon.”
Everyone cocked their heads, not understanding.
“Judges Six thru Eight,” Ms. Banks said. “It’s what I was reading the day you arrived in Eagleton, Naomi. Gideon was a judge of Israel. He took three hundred men to fight against the Midianite camp. Needless to say, he was outnumbered, but was able to drive the enemy into confusion. On the offensive, I might add.”
Richard scoffed. “I don’t know if we should base our strategy off an old book.”
“I believe you’ll find that book a lot more useful than you might think,” Ms. Banks retorted.
Richard put up his hands in a non-defensive manner and said nothing.
Naomi recalled what she knew about Gideon. A thought came to mind. Her face lit up. “You think we can pull that off?”
“Your father has all those lanterns, right?” Ms. Banks asked.
Naomi glanced up at the barn’s loft.
The two of them told the rest of the group their plan. Naomi allowed Calvin to delegate. By the afternoon, Naomi was ready. She felt adrenaline coursing through her veins thinking about the upcoming battle. She spent the rest of the afternoon on and off horseback, letting the brisk air cool her. Coming to a vast field, Naomi leaned back on the horse and turned her face to the sky. Her cheeks were sunken with small scrapes. Her pale pink lips were cracked. Purple brush marks underlined her blue eyes. She wore rugged jeans, muddy boots, and a heavy jacket with threads bursting out of the seams. Purple bruises and nasty scabs painted her knuckles.
Over the tall valley mountains, snow clouds crept across the silver sky like a closing curtain. She gave the sky a determined look and twisted the horse around. She raced across the flat farm fields. The muscles of the Friesian rippled beneath its dark fur. The horse’s ankles split wispy fog. Its hooves thundered across hard dirt and frozen grass.
An hour later, torrents of snow spilled out of the black vault of the night sky.
Guy and Calvin passed off crates of train lanterns and filled the back of the Land Rover. The flame danced inside of the lanterns placed between the barn and vehicles. Inside of the barn, Naomi found Richard playing a trumpet. His dark eyes were closed. His black hair swayed in the light breeze. A thin beard painted his sharp jaw.
Nearby, a line of pistol magazines stood like dominos on the table. One by one, Ms. Banks fed pistol ammo into the magazines. She mumbled a prayer for every bullet.
Naomi dismounted and led the horse into its pen. She brushed her hand down its large snout. Its misty breath breezed over Naomi’s face before resting its large head against her shoulder. She said a final goodbye and joined the others with the preparation.
With the Rover loaded, she gave her parents a big hug. “I love you,” she reminded them.
George put his arms around Mary’s side and pulled her close. “You’ll come back. Promise?”
Naomi cracked a small smile. “Promise.”
They embraced again.
Calvin talked to Juan. “Keep them safe.”
The Hispanic nodded in affirmation. They shook hands.
Naomi, Calvin, Guy, Ms. Banks, and Richard flooded into the Rover. Calvin turned the ignition. The gas tank needle wobbled on “E.”
“Last trip,” Calvin said prophetically and put the shift into Drive.
They drove to the scorched ranger station, expecting to meet Conner Ryan.
He never showed.
11
Mighty
They waited for an hour amidst the cold and falling snow.
Silence hung over the Rover.
The silhouettes of Naomi's posse looked like cardboard cutouts in the rearview.
Calvin’s glare was a hot brand on Naomi’s cheek. She scanned the burned remnant of the ranger station. Frowning heavily, she finally nodded at Calvin.
He turned the key and they started down the road.
Naomi expected to see Conner appear in her wake, but that wasn’t the case. The man was a no-show. Did he tried to flee from Logan and failed? Did he tell Logan about their mission? Naomi could spend the whole night asking questions, but it wouldn’t change the fact that tonight they were going to attack, with or without the information. At this point, they didn’t have a choice.
They drove by Allen’s desolate home and peeled into the woods.
The Rover rumbled as it passed over rough terrain.
Calvin drove slowly, carefully navigating the woods. They avoided felled trees and boulders. The snow blinded them past twenty feet. One of the headlights flickered and died. The other cast an orange fan of light.
What was normally a four-hour hike was about a forty-minute drive. Calvin parked the car away from the cliff and shut off the engine. The five of them relied on senses other than sight to reach the forty-foot drop. They got to their bellies and peered down at the scrapyard. Multiple sources of light moved on the roads between stacks of junked vehicles. As expected, there were lantern-wielding guards in every quadrant of the fenced-in compound. A number of stationary light sources illuminated the exterior of the pill-shaped workshop and two-story house nearby.
On the wordless scrapyard sign, a body dangled. Though Naomi couldn’t make out its features in the dark, she assumed it was Dean. Her eyes tracked the dirt road leading to the fence gate. From the looks of it, no chariots would be coming or going in the blizzard. Turning her head to the group, she ordered, “Get the lanterns.”
Everyone but Naomi returned to the Rover. She kept her eyes on the camp. Her original plan of attack was to strike during one of Logan’s bonfires, but this would work. Perhaps even better.
After watching them for a long while, Naomi heard footsteps behind her. She twisted back to Calvin. “How’s it looking?”
“Quiet,” Naomi said. She shifted the weight of her backpack. “Are the lanterns hung?”
“Almost. We’ll be giving the sign soon.”
Naomi nodded in affirmation. “I guess we better get down there.”
Calvin instantly patted down the knife. “No prisoners?”
Naomi drew in a deep breath. “No prisoners.”
Like two shadows hunched in darkness, they moved along the edge of the cliff as it began to lower. They got to their bottoms and slid down the coarse dirt. The heels of their boots created ruts in the cliff’s face.
They reached the bottom. They looked at the scrapyard from level ground. The chain-link fences towered above with three lines of razor wire on top. Beyond it, piles of junk cars formed a maze of rusted metal and sharp steel. Backs hunched and eyes peeled, they moved along the outer side of the fence. They paused a few times and got to their bellies as a pair of patrolling guards flashed their lanterns their way. The snow and wind masked them and the guards continued their route. After covering seventy-five percent of the scrapyard, Naomi and Calvin reached the side closest to the two-story house.
Naomi slung off her backpack. After fighting the zipper, she got out the bolt cutters and handed them to Calvin. He snapped at the chain-link fence until a four-foot chunk had been removed. Instead of moving right away, they wai
ted and watched the woods.
A small light appeared in the distant trees to the far right of the yard. Ms. Banks was in position. A moment later, another light appeared on top of the cliff. Richard was set. A third light activated on the far right. That was Guy’s.
Throughout the next several minutes, more railroad lanterns lit up, forming a wide semi-circle of dangling lights around the front and sides of the camp.
A few of the guard patrols stopped and stared.
Over the wind, a Richard’s trumpet sounded.
It was quiet compared to the weather, but just loud enough for the guards to turn their attention that way. One of them ran to the workshop and banged on the door.
“Intruders outside the fence!”
The house’s front door slung open and four men scrambled out into the yard. One was still putting on his shoe. The rest were fumbling with their weapons in a chaotic frenzy.
An angry man with a broad frame pointed to the half-ring of torches in the distance. “They got a whole army out there!”
A bullet zipped out of the tree line and nearly hit him.
“Sniper!”
His voice was cut off as a second bullet punched him in the chest, sending him to the dirt instantly.
More gunfire rained down from the woods, scattering Logan’s men. The bullets punched the dirt, wooden walls, and junk metal.
Mentally bracing himself, Calvin pulled away the chunk of fence and slipped through the hole. Naomi followed.
A nearby patrol took cover behind an old pick-up, blinked the snow out of their bloodshot eyes, and fired into the woods above the cliff.
“What the hell is happening?” one exclaimed.
The other one shouted. “Just shut up and shoot anything that moves.”
Prowling behind them, Naomi slowly drew out the knife from her belt.
Every step closer, her heart rate quickened. Misty breath escaped her slightly parted lips. Her mind fell into raw instinct as she moved closer to one of the two men. Next to her, Calvin mimicked her movements as he got behind his target. Locking wide eyes with one another, they simultaneously wrapped their hands around their target’s mouths and swiftly ran the blade across their throats. The man thrashed in Naomi’s grasp. She fought to keep him still as his shoulder battered her chest. She felt the man’s saliva on her palm as she covered his mouth. Moments later, his body became heavy and limp.
Naomi pulled him off the dirt road. Calvin did the same with his target.
Disposing of the bodies, they moved out of the hiding place only to be spotted by a guard. For a brief moment, time seemed to stop. Without thinking, Naomi quickly drew out her pistol as the guard pulled out his own. Naomi discharged half of her magazine before he could get a shot off.
Her trigger finger ached as the stranger’s body thrashed with every hit.
More of Logan’s men rushed her way.
“Go!” she whispered to Calvin.
Instead of staying on the road, they clambered over the scrapped cars. Bent metal snagged their jackets, tearing holes and spilling out white cotton. Slipping across various roofs, Naomi cut her gloves and skin on various pieces of sharp metal. She’d reached the other side of the pile of cars and fell onto the road just as a patrol was darting by.
The patrol stopped their sprint to yell at her when she emptied the rest of her clip between the two of them. One died instantly. The other was on his back and shooting blindly. He shrieked, “They’ve breached the fenc!”
Naomi retreated with Calvin at her heels.
Bullets continued to rain haphazardly from the woods. It was hard to tell who was shooting and where. That meant that the plan was working. Going into this evening, Naomi’s posse knew that bullets would be wasted, but the only way to keep =Logan’s men ignorant of their numbers was to keep on shooting.
More gunfire erupted inside the fence.
Shouting followed.
The last time Naomi had experienced such chaos was when the EMP erupted near Philadelphia. Her mind stayed on her daughter’s safety.
Naomi and Calvin moved between scrapped cars as they shot at passing guards. Similarly to how they had sabotaged Logan’s safe houses, they’d keep running and gunning, never returning to the same place twice. It didn’t matter how many enemies they eliminated, only that their rivals were scattered and confused.
At one point, two terrified patrols bumped into each other and started shooting immediately. As their bodies hit the dirt, a survivor yelled out. “Traitors! Traitors!”
Naomi couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome.
Logan’s men didn’t trust each other. They’d soon turn against one another.
The firefight swelled, only this time it was Logan’s men doing most of the shooting.
Naomi and Calvin slinked back into hiding and snuck around the back of the house. Naomi clenched a metal bar in her hand and slammed its point against the glass window. With a new way inside, Naomi tossed aside the piece of scrap metal and aimed her pistol through the new hole. The living room was a pigsty. Dirty clothes scattered on the floor. Three couches formed a rough triangle around a coffee table. An assortment of drugs were scattered across the top, along with half-eaten cans of beans and other stale canned foods. There was only a few small candles illuminating the place, and there didn’t appear to be anyone inside.
The vacancy didn’t last as the front door flung open and smacked against the inner wall.
A few of the men retreated inside and quickly sealed the door. They hunched behind the windows and caught their breath.
“You see anyone out there?” one asked.
The second peeked out of the window and quickly lowered back down. He held his rifle close to his chest. “There must be dozens of them in the woods.”
“Just be happy they can’t get us in here,” the third replied.
Naomi and Calvin each aimed at one of the four targets. They shot at the same time, taking out two on the sides before both directing their gunfire at the two in the middle. Splashing the wall with deep red, the bodies crumbled on the floor.
With the pops of gunfire sounding in all directions outside, Calvin and Naomi shuffled through the broken window.
They prowled through the darkness. It stank of wet garbage, marijuana, and sweat. Naomi locked the front door and blocked it with a chair. She followed Calvin upstairs. She recalled seeing Selena in one of the rooms during their first visit to the scrapyard. She tried the knob.
Unlocked.
Intensely focused and terrified, she gave it a twist and flung it open.
Covers were strewn across the bed. The top dresser drawer was open. The wardrobe was ajar. Naomi stepped into the room. The floorboards moaned under her felt. She squatted and checked under the bed. Finding nothing, she checked the corners of the room, the closet, and the wardrobe. No sign of Selena. It looked like articles of clothing had been moved recently.
She rejoined Calvin in the hall.
“Bedrooms are empty,” he stated
Naomi’s skin crawled. That meant one thing. They were either in the workshop or the basement.
Reloading her pistol with her final magazine, Naomi descended the steps to the first floor and turned to the basement door. Calvin and her exchanged a final look. The door was locked tightly. A sliding latch was closed. The door was locked.
Calvin outstretched his arm in front of Naomi and moved her back. Grimacing from the anticipated loud noise, Calvin fired multiple rounds into the doorknob and then gave it a hardy kick.
The door snapped open and the two of them moved onto the landing and aimed down the stairs. It was complete blackness below. Naomi grabbed one of the candles from the living room. Following Calvin, she held the candle up high. Tears of wax rolled down the tops of her fingers. Every step down became colder.
They reached the basement lined with two sets of jail cells. Smelling of wet dog, body odor, and urine, chain-link cages as tall as the ceiling lined the walls. Naomi and Calvin peered insi
de, seeing tufts of dog hair, a few empty bowls in another, and finally a few dirty mattresses in the back two cells.
Naomi stopped at the cell in the far back and looked into the empty cage. Her teeth chattered as a swirl of emotions bombarded her. Anger, terror, dread.
Trinity wasn’t here. None of the girls were.
Naomi became completely rigid.
Face partly illuminated by the flame, Calvin stared numbly at the cage. “That can’t be. Not after everything.”
Naomi turned curtly and started for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Calvin called out.
“The workshop,” Naomi replied fiercely.
They left the basement and stepped outside.
The firefight had quieted down.
Unmoving and bloody, the bodies of Logan’s men scattered the roads.
Naomi stopped herself from going directly to the workshop. She turned down the long center road to the sliding gate and jogged that way. One of the watchmen had been sniped. When the other one popped out, Naomi pumped him full of bullets. She tore the key from around his neck, used it to unlock the sliding gate, and pulled it open.
She grabbed a nearby lantern, ignited the wick, and set it down at the foot of the open gate. After a few moments, shadows moved on the dirt road. As they approached, the light illuminated their identities: Richard, Guy, and Ms. Banks.
Naomi ushered them inside.
“It’s about time you let us in,” Guy said.
Richard kept his tiny pistol scanning the junkyard. “I wasn’t in any particular rush myself. Find Selena?”
Hunched over and catching his breath, Calvin said, “The house is empty but the yard is secure.”
Ms. Banks was quiet. She didn’t shy away from the bodies, nor did she take any pleasure in looking at them.
In a spear point formation, they approached the workshop. Naomi let Calvin take point. They reached the two roll-up doors. Both were locked from inside, so they had use to the side employee door. After Calvin opened it, him and the rest scurried back. They expected an onslaught. Instead they got silence.
Quickly, they moved inside of the room. Supply tables formed rows throughout the corridor. There were weapons laid out along with cans of food.
Aftermath (Book 2): Aftermath Page 14
