A few candles flickered as the cold wind rolled in behind Naomi’s posse.
They got inside when the man burst out and fired a shotgun at them. Guy’s shoulder flung back. The rest of Naomi’s crew scattered and fired their weapons. A few bullets pierced the man and he dropped.
Naomi lent Guy a hand while Richard and Calvin swarmed the gunman.
Naomi checked Guy’s wound. A few pellets had breached his skin, but it was not a direct hit. “You’ll be okay.”
Guy grimaced. “Yeah, but that hurt.”
He sat nearby while Naomi joined the other men. At their feet was a man with a bald head and goatee. He winced with his eyes clenched shut. A bullet was mashed against his armored vest.
“Frisk him,” Naomi commanded.
Calvin and Richard did so, removing two spare pistols and a knife. They set them on a nearby table.
Naomi squatted down in front of the man. He wasn’t bleeding, but he probably had a broken rib or two. Naomi kept her pistol resting lazily in her hand. “Where is Logan? Where are the girls?”
The man turned and spit in her face.
Calvin stomped on his nose. It made a horrific crack, followed by the man’s wail.
Naomi glanced up at Calvin. He fixed his collar and spit back at the man. “Do that to my wife again and I’ll keep stomping until your head is powder. Now where is my daughter!”
The man turned his head away. Tears and blood spilled down this cheeks. “I don’t know your daughter.”
Calvin jammed his foot down again, this time on the man’s cheek. He spit out a tooth.
Naomi pinched the man’s jaw and turned his face to her. “We are past playing games. Answer our questions.”
The man wept and nodded weakly.
Naomi looked around the room. “You’re the arms keeper here, correct?”
The man nodded again.
“Is Logan hiding here?”
The man shook his head.
“Liar.” Venom laced Calvin’s voice.
“It’s true!” The man spit. “Logan transferred them to the mansion.”
Naomi’s head spun. “What mansion?”
“It overlooks the scrapyard. You must’ve seen it. Please, that’s all I know. Please--” the arms dealer begged.
Bam!
His head knocked back with a new hole at its center. Blood splashed out the back of his skull. Every eye turned to Guy’s smoking gun.
Calvin glared at him. “We needed him alive.”
“He told us what he knew. He was no more use to us,” Guy replied blankly. “Besides, he’s a rapist and a killer. What do you care?”
Naomi brushed off some of the blood splatter on her jaw. She stood and paced. She had seen the mansion overlooking the scrapyard on some of her previous visits, but it was too far away and too deep in the woods to see during a nightly blizzard. Nevertheless, they needed to end this fight tonight. She turned to Guy. “You seem confident about this mansion.”
“I am,” Guy replied. “It’s Logan’s safe house. I imagine that Selena and whatever guards he has are stationed there. The doors are fortified. Getting in won’t be easy.”
Richard perused the tables of supplies, seeing if anything captured his fancy. “Thanks for telling us before we launched a big assault.”
Guy glared at him. “I didn’t think he’d go. If there is one thing Logan hates, it’s being away from his supplies.”
Naomi walked over to a locker full of bulletproof vests. Some had been removed. “I’m surprised his people weren’t wearing these.”
Guy shrugged. “Ever try to wear those for long stretches at a time? It’s not what I’d call comfortable.”
Naomi slipped one on and tightened the Velcro straps. It limited her breathing and mobility, but it beat being shot outright. She eyed her posse. “Get what you need and load up. There’s a good chance he’s been watching us.”
Finding their weapon of choice, Naomi sent Calvin to get the Rover. Everyone got equipped with new weapons and was ready to hunt. The blizzard raged on. Naomi hoped it would keep Logan in place. The Rover pulled up to the workshop. Naomi found a few crates of dynamite and put them inside.
Before they loaded into the Rover, they set the two-story house ablaze. Naomi knew that the destruction wasn’t necessary, but she wanted Logan to know she was coming for him next. They drove out of the front gate and down the winding dirt road. Eventually, they reached the real street and followed that through a forest path into a long and twisting private driveway.
It took them deeper into the Shenandoah valley, deeper into the mountains, deeper into the wild.
Naomi and Calvin kept their eyes on the road ahead.
They held hands as they neared the mansion’s face. It had multiple stories with a fine white finish, a breathtaking balcony, and alluring pillars. Sheet metal boarded the downstairs windows. Elegant candles lined the windowsills upstairs. The house’s elegance and regal appearance juxtaposed the drug-infested scrapyard.
In a road flanked by swaying trees and boulders, Calvin pulled to a stop a few dozen yards away from the building’s front. He kept his foot on the brake pedal. Silhouettes moved upstairs. The candles were moved away and sheets of scrap metal covered the inside of the upstairs window.
“He knows we’re here,” Ms. Banks said.
Naomi, putting down the bulletproof plastic of her mask, kept a close hand on her newly acquired tear gas launcher and stepped out.
Richard patted Calvin’s shoulder proudly. “You got yourself quite the woman.”
He put the car in Park, got out, and joined his wife.
He wielded a riot shotgun and heavy vest.
Feeling the weight of their gear pressing down on them but willingly ignoring it, they walked to the mansion and stopped outside the front door.
Naomi hammered her fist on the door. “Logan! We know you’re in there! We’ve come for our daughter. Let her and the rest of the women go, and you’ll live! Refuse and we will tear this place down!”
Silence.
Naomi knocked so hard that she felt her hand bruise. “Logan!”
Her sandy hair tossed and turned with the wind.
“Screw it,” Calvin said and shot a slug at the doorknob.
It hit a thick sheet of metal behind it. He cursed. “They must have six inches of metal reinforcements.”
“You’ll have to try better than that,” a faint female voice said from inside.
“Selena,” Naomi called out.
“So you learned my name,” Selena replied through the wall.
“It’s not too late to talk.”
“Like we’d be interested,” Selena chuckled. “I can’t wait to give you to Logan. He’ll have fun toying with you.”
Calvin boiled. Face red with rage, he turned to Naomi. “Bullets won’t work.”
Naomi glanced back at the Land Rover and then to him. “We have another way.”
“To set up all that dynamite will be too risky. We don’t even know what we're doing,” Calvin said.
“I’m not talking about the dynamite,” Naomi said seriously.
It took a moment for Calvin to catch on. Then his face sank into dread. He looked back to the Rover: his final treasure from Philly. The vehicle that had saved their lives countless times.
“It’s your call,” Naomi said
Calvin ran his hand up his hair. He thought deeply and mumbled, “Okay. We’ll end this.”
As Calvin jogged back to the Rover, Naomi yelled at Selena. “Open up, Selena!”
“You really think you can win?” Selena taunted. “We have every card in our hand. We have your daughter and better weapons. You have nothing.”
Calvin got back into the car while Richard, Guy, and Ms. Banks got out. Calvin opened up the door at the very back of the Rover, revealing the dynamite they’d just acquired. Meanwhile, Naomi rested the tear gas cannon on her shoulder and pulled out the revolver. She held it tightly as snow landed on the barrel.
“Selena,” Naomi said, fed up. “Let me talk to Logan.”
“Not happening. He’s having some girl time right now,” Selena taunted. “You’ll know what that means soon enough.”
Keeping the driver side door open, Calvin put a crate on the accelerator and jumped out as the Land Rover raced forward. Naomi stepped aside as the vehicle roared her way. She turned just as its nose burst through the front door and metal reinforcement. The vehicle died just before the back wheels could cross the threshold.
Naomi dashed back, aiming the revolver at the open back door. “Last chance, Selena!”
Silhouettes moved behind the smoke and started shooting at Naomi. She fired off three rounds into the back of the Rover. The first two did nothing. The last hit the dynamite.
Boom.
The entire front of the house exploded into wood chunks, glass and flying metal. Naomi turned her head away as a three-foot plank nearly decapitated her. It flew over her head with bare inches to spare.
The mansions’ second floor collapsed into the first, vomiting furniture across the lawn.
Naomi holstered the revolver and put both hands on the tear gas launcher.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
She blasted three cans through the gaping hole and waited as orange fog filled the interior.
Guy put on his gas mask and dashed inside.
Richard gawked. “Selena!” He put on his own mask and followed Guy.
Calvin went after.
Ms. Banks walked up next to Naomi. “Let them take care of the boys.We’ll go after the girls.”
Ms. Banks handed her a gas mask. Naomi tossed aside her riot helmet and put it on.
The men had already vanished in through the gap. Ms. Banks and Naomi moved inside. Through the goggles of the mask, the world was fogged and every breath had a Darth Vader-like quality. The Rover was a charred shell. The scattered remains of a few people were strewn about, but it was impossible to tell who they were. Even their firearms were twisted and warped from the explosion.
Naomi moved into the foyer. One side of a double set of stairs had collapsed. A few small fires danced across the floor and half of a couch. Naomi launched another can of tear gas into the second floor balcony.
Richard ran from body part to body part, trying to find Selena.
Calvin moved into a hallway while Guy moved upstairs. Naomi followed him.
She lost Ms. Banks behind her.
She navigated the orange tear gas, passing by one of the Logan’s man crawling, crying, and spitting across the floor. Guy yanked out his knife and stuck the man in his neck. Before the man was dead, Guy moved on and kicked in a nearby door.
Through the goggles on her mask, Naomi felt like she was watching a dream unfold. Her hearing was muffled. Her vision was blurred. Amidst the gas, the mansion had an ethereal quality to it. She forged her own path to another door. Seeing it was locked, she slammed her shoulder into it a few times before it burst and she stumbled inside. It was an empty guest room. She backed out.
The floor shifted beneath her. The explosion must have damaged the foundation. She tried the next door. Locked as well. Instead of slamming her shoulder into it, she used the stock of the tear gas launcher to bash against the knob. Eventually it snapped off, and then she slammed herself against the wooden face.
She stumbled into a room and was shot three times in the chest.
She hit the ground before she knew what had happened. Her cannon flew out of reach. She gasped underneath the mask.
The tear gas hadn’t touched the room. Standing at the far back was a handsome man and a few others in front of a gaggle of sitting women. Numbering in the thirties, they were sitting on their side and locked together by rough metal chains wrapped around their wrists. Their eyes were distant and hollow. Their skin was sickly. They weren’t fazed by Naomi getting shot.
A wisp of smoke leaked from the barrel of Logan’s heavy pistol. He had a thin blond beard, trimmed eyebrows, and slicked back hair. His jaw was well-defined. His eyes were a deep blue and sharp. He wore a bomber jacket, dark jeans, and nice boots. Conner and a group of six other men in riot gear flanked his sides.
“Naomi Baxter, is it?” Logan asked calmly.
With a trembling hand, she pulled off her mask, trying to catch a breath. It felt like there were bricks on her lungs. Every breath sent pain throughout her torso.
“Funny enough, I’ve read your book,” Logan said as he gestured for one of the men to close the door behind Naomi. The man did so without question.
“Thriving and Finding Comfort in the Little Things,” Logan quoted the title. “It shaped me, you know? It helped me enjoy my day-to-day. Inspired me to take what I wanted. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Carpe diem in a world of monotony.”
Pain-induced tears rolled down Naomi’s face as she looked to the large crowd of enslaved women. They stared at her with dead-faced expressions and slightly agape mouths. They were gaunt but dressed warmly. They were all the same. Zombies.
Fighting against the pain surging through her midsection, Naomi faintly called out, “Trinity.”
Logan cocked an amused smile. “Ah, the girl. Of course that’s what you’re after. Why go this far for anything less? I could’ve bargained with you, you know? My prices are reasonable.”
The world spun around Naomi. She saw doubled. Amidst the girls, she saw a pretty one with long black hair. Naomi recognized her. “B-Becca.” Her words were tiny and weak. Even if the slave was in her right mind, she probably wouldn’t have heard Naomi.
Logan glanced at Conner. “You knew her, right?”
Lips pursed and expression hard, Conner nodded.
“Bring her to me.”
Conner didn’t move.
Logan turned his head to Conner. “You want me to hurt your niece? Now hurry up.”
Boiling with rage, Conner maneuvered around the crowd of women. He kept his hand firmly gripped around his prized shotgun.
Fighting for every breath, Naomi outstretched her hand for her concealed revolver. The simple gesture sent a shot of pain through her. She sweat dripped down her face and tears pouring from her eyes. She reached further, screaming through her clenched teeth. Just as her finger brushed against the hilt, Conner loomed over her, aiming his shotgun down at her face.
Naomi let her hand fall. She stared at the man she once called friend and waited for him to pull the trigger.
Conner knelt and patted her down, taking the knife and revolver from her belt.
“Come on,” he said, with a neutral expression hiding his unhappiness.
Naomi attempted to fight back, but her body disobeyed her. She went rigid as he slung his shotgun over his back and scooped her up. Despite his stoic demeanor, he was much more gentle than Naomi had anticipated. He carried her by the women and toward Logan.
“Drop her,” he said.
Peeved but silent, Conner dropped Naomi at the man’s feet. Naomi’s back hit the hard ground. She would’ve curled up, but the vest kept her from moving. That and the throbbing pain. She opened one eye to see Logan’s boots. He took a step. Naomi blinked and looked up at the imposing man. He looked like a giant.
With a cocky smile, he pressed his foot down on Naomi’s throat. She felt the rigid rubber bottom slowly crush her neck. She grabbed his toe and heel, trying to free herself but failing miserably.
“I’m impressed by you, Naomi,” Logan said, putting more weight on her neck. “First, because you’re a woman. Next, because you brought the fight to my home.”
He twisted his foot.
Naomi squirmed. Every breath was painful.
Logan frowned. “But you killed a lot of my people. Because of that, I can’t let you go unpunished.
The sides of Naomi’s vision darkened. The whites of her eyes turned red as parasite-like veins raced toward her blue irises.
Conner watched her, his tough facade breaking.
Help me, Conner. Please, Naomi pleaded, but only a windless gargle escaped h
er lips.
She turned her eyes to the enslaved women. Fight back! You can win this!
At the center of the pile and with her long brown hair falling over her face, Trinity stared at her mother. The thirteen year old had a bruise on of her gaunt cheek. Her eyes were practically devoid of life. It dawned on Naomi that her daughter didn’t recognize her.
Like he was squishing a roach, Logan twisted his foot against her neck.
Calvin yelled from outside the door. “Let her go, or I swear I will start shooting!”
Logan loosened the weight he put on Naomi’s throat, allowing her to breathe briefly. “Get the girls up,” he commanded.
Two of Logan’s lackeys grabbed the chain that bound the women and yanked. The ones nearest the men were forcefully pulled to their feet. Like a rising wave, the rest of the sheep-like women found their footing until nearly thirty bodies separated Naomi from her unseen husband.
Logan taunted, “Shoot now. Please.”
Calvin pushed open the broken door and peered inside. Past the feet of the women, Naomi could see him. She reached out. He didn’t notice. He stayed with his body behind cover. Logan gestured to two of his men. They moved around the right and left sides of the room, getting closer to the door.
Naomi tried to shout a warning, but Logan still hadn’t moved his foot.
Just as Calvin went to lean back around the corner, the two men appeared in the threshold in front of him. One slammed his rifle stock against his nose. Calvin collapsed.
Gunshots sounded as the second guard was pelted with bullets. Wearing the riot gear, the bullets didn't break skin but caused him to fumble. The man who hit Calvin focused his fire on the unknown assailant shooting outside the room. On the ground, Calvin covered his nose with his hand. Blood leaked between his fingers. As shell casings fell around him, he opened his eyes and saw Naomi.
As if time slowed down, he pulled his hand away from his bleeding nose and started crawling toward Naomi. The shooters were too distracted to notice Calvin crawling through the sea of standing slaves. Naomi’s heart pounded as Calvin did his best not to touch any of them. As he got close to Naomi, he pulled out his knife. That was when he grabbed the foot of one girl and looked up. It was Trinity. Calvin stopped his heroic crawl and stared in horror.
Aftermath (Book 2): Aftermath Page 15
