He was on his side, and I nudged him. “I’m hit. In the shoulder.” He rolled onto his back, his face hardened with pain. A hole was in his black jacket on the left shoulder, a red glow deep inside the hole. The bullet had missed his Kevlar jacket. “Just the luck, huh?” he grunted.
“Crap!” I glanced over my shoulder. Still no sign of Ezra or the shooter.
“I think the shooter was Jamin. It was someone shorter. He wasn’t a very good shot. If he had been, we’d both look like a pegboard.”
Sweat bubbled on Nick’s forehead, and he gripped his arm tight against his body. “Help me up.”
“Nick, stay here. I need to get inside the sanctuary.”
“Fuck you. I’m not an invalid. Get me up.” He moved to his knees, and I helped him up the rest of the way. “Hand me my gun.”
“Nick—”
“You think I’m just going to sit here? Quit wasting time. Let’s get in the sanctuary.”
I handed him his gun, then ran over to the door and tried tugging on it. The chains were secured by a padlock. I could hear people screaming inside. “Get away from the door. I’m going to fire my gun,” I yelled.
I waited a few seconds. “Is everyone away?”
A voiced yelled, “Yes, please hurry. People are fainting.”
I took aim and fired at the padlock. The bullet pierced the steel, obliterating the locking mechanism. Nick pulled chains off the door, and I barreled into the sanctuary with my gun leading the way, unsure of what or who would greet us.
The same little boy who had tried to run away earlier was standing there, pointing to a pew. “Can you help my daddy?”
I touched his head. “Yes.” As I glanced up, two, three, four people toward the front of the sanctuary dropped to the floor.
“They’re trying to gas everyone,” I said.
Nick pulled up next to me and yelled, “Everyone out. Quick!”
Murmurs of concern burst into wild screams. People scrambled for the door, tripping over each other. The boy was nearly stampeded, so I hooked him under my arm and ran him into the foyer, then scooted by a few folks on a dead run and made it back into the sanctuary.
“Out. Everyone run. Grab those who have passed out and drag them with you,” Nick yelled.
Chaos reigned for at least two minutes as my eyes searched for my mom and Archie.
“Do you see her?” Nick asked over the shouts and cries.
Scores of people ran by, the only thing in common was how they dressed—as if it were a hundred fifty years ago.
“No, and no sign of Archie either.”
Bringing up the rear of the pack was a woman who was attempting to drag a man out. I ran over and grabbed both of his ankles and started pulling. “Get out,” I told her.
“Not until he’s safe,” she said as tears dripped off her cheeks. I leaned backward and started chugging my feet. Momentum picked up, and we were through the threshold a few seconds later.
“Close the doors! Seal them shut!” I yelled, out of breath.
Nick and another man shut the door while a woman ran up with blankets. They placed them at the crease.
I could hear crying going on behind me. I punched the button on my earpiece. “Brad, Vandiver, need first responders sent into the compound, ASAP. Likely a gas exposure of some kind.”
Vandiver confirmed my request as I turned back to the group. “It’s still not safe. Everyone needs to get outside.”
A woman stepped forward and said, “Outside isn’t even safe, not with these homicidal maniacs somewhere on the grounds.”
“How can you say that?” someone yelled from the crowd.
“Are you fucking insane? They tried to murder over a hundred people!” the woman said.
Just then, the little boy I’d pulled out of the sanctuary ran across the foyer. “It’s in here. Follow me.”
I looked at Nick, who shrugged his shoulders. I ran after the kid, a few of the other folks right behind me. The kid stopped at the maintenance door.
“It’s in here. I saw Ezra bring in a can of gas last night. It had the word sarin written on it. He didn’t know I saw him.”
“Dear God,” a woman gasped.
“Stand back,” I said. I brought my gun up and fired into the doorjamb. It exploded, and then Nick kicked the door in. Ten cans of sarin gas were on a shelf, hooked into some type of ventilation system that disappeared into the ceiling panels.
“Let me shut them off,” a younger man said, whizzing by me. Before I could warn or stop him, he was twisting the valves shut.
“We still need to get everyone outside. There could be further exposure.”
“But what if Jamin and Malachi are out there, just waiting for us to walk out so they can shoot us down like ducks on a pond?” a woman asked.
“I don’t think they’re here.” The young man who had turned off the gas stepped toward Nick and me.
“Why?”
He took in a breath and shook his head. “I’ve been a damn fool, ignoring the signs.” The young man looked more like a grown boy, maybe twenty years old, tall and strapping.
“What is it, Levi?” the woman said.
“Jamin and Malachi have both been spending a lot of time analyzing the reports from the Center over the last few weeks. I heard them talking, and it sounded like they were preparing to end operations.”
I put a hand to my head, wondering what their end game was.
“So they wanted to kill everyone in the camp? Why?”
“I had no idea they wanted to do that, but I did help them work on their H3 in the last couple of weeks,” Levi said.
“What’s an H3?” Nick asked.
“It’s called a Hummer. Ever heard of those vehicles?” Levi asked.
I looked at Nick. “So they wanted to kill everyone and then drive right out?”
Nick shook his head, which was coated with a sheen of sweat. His skin was pale.
“You’ve lost blood. You need to sit down, away from this gas and wait for the paramedics.”
Just then, an enormous explosion, but this one came from outside.
“What the fuck?” Nick exclaimed.
“I’m almost positive that’s the H3.” Levi started jogging back across the foyer.
“Where are you going?” I asked, trailing him.
“The latch to the barn sometimes doesn’t open easily. I’m guessing they plowed the H3 right through the barn doors.”
He raced outside, pulling to a stop ten feet out, the sky a shade lighter than it had been when Nick and I first arrived. I noticed a barn off to the left, remnants of the doors still attached to the main structure, but most of the wood was scattered within a fifty-foot radius.
“Holy shit,” I said.
“There.” Levi pointed toward the woods.
A vehicle’s brake lights flashed red for a couple of seconds. “Is that even a road?”
“Just a trail, from what I know.”
Others begin spilling outside. “Get everyone out. Now,” I called out. A few of the adults started wrangling more people out of the building. I continued to look for my mother.
“Has anyone seen a woman named Charlotte…I mean, Beulah?” I called out.
“Beulah. Oh yeah, she’s been here longer than anyone,” a woman said.
I ran over to the woman, who had a daughter pressed against her leg. “Where is she?” I asked, my voice panicked. I couldn’t help it.
She looked around as a look of despair suddenly washed across her face. “I haven’t seen her. I…” She put her hands in her face.
“What is it?” I took hold of her arms.
“Malachi…he has this thing for her. It’s kind of a love-hate relationship. And if she’s not here with us, she’s probably either dead or with him in that car.”
My lungs couldn’t take in oxygen. I coughed twice, just to reopen my air passage. “Is there another vehicle on the camp?” I asked Levi just as Nick jogged up.
“Well, there’s the old pi
ckup. Ezra mainly drives that.”
“Where is it?” I could hear Nick talking to Vandiver through my earpiece, but I couldn’t focus on the specifics.
“Uh, other side, parked under some trees.”
“Can you show me?”
“Sure, but I don’t have the keys. I’ve only seen Ezra and Jamin driving that truck.”
“Fuck!” I cried out.
“Please don’t curse in front of the children.” A man with a beard down to his chest stood there, his thumbs hooked inside his suspenders.
“None of you did a damn thing as they tortured and raped women,” I spat out.
The man blinked, but pressed his bearded lips shut.
“And they killed too,” the woman said. “Graves are on the other side of that ridge there.” She gestured with her head. “Girls of all ages, even a few men. Most recently, Hodiah, and then later her daughter, Jaala. Malachi changed her name back to Amber at the end.”
I stood there with my mouth open, shaking my head. “How the hell could you let this happen…all these years? Rape, murder. This isn’t a house of God; it’s a camp of torture.” I could hear a few whimpers grow into sobs as heads nodded, but no one said a word. There was too much shame. Too much pain.
My mother.
“Nick, stay here and make sure these people get the help they need. And try to find Archie.” I sprinted toward the trail that the Hummer had traveled. I punched the button on the comm device on my ear. “Vandiver, I’m moving out of the camp on foot, heading southeast. A silver Hummer—”
“Alex,” Nick yelled from behind me, “I already called Vandiver.”
“I’m looking at an aerial map right now.” It was Brad. “We’re en route to intercept your path in a half mile. Keep running in the same direction.”
“Good luck,” Nick yelled in my earpiece.
I ran a good hundred yards, the trail full of dips and inclines, but it was apparent that a bulldozer had cleared this path recently. Pumping my arms as hard as they could go, I put another hundred yards behind me, then out of nowhere, a white van practically flew into my path, skidding to a stop just in front of me, the side door already open with Brad extending a hand. “Jump in.”
I did just that, and Vandiver punched the gas. I would have tumbled to the floor, but Brad grabbed me and held me upright. We locked eyes for a split second. He must have seen my desperation.
“Your mother?”
“I think she’s in that Hummer. Either that or she’s dead.”
“And Archie?” Vandiver asked as the van dipped, then rocked back up, chewing up dirt in the process.
“Only found his watch in one of the classrooms. Nick is looking for him now.”
Brad flipped around as best he could and pointed at the screen, showing me the trail we were on. “They could intersect with Highway 35, or I guess continue on this trail and stay off-road.”
“Does this path lead anywhere special?” I asked, clinging more tightly to Brad as the van swung left, nearly hurling me into the bank of computers and screens.
Vandiver from up front: “Fuck!”
“What is it?” Brad asked, his voice barely audible above the grinding engine.
“It just hit me. There’s an airstrip down here about three miles. Rarely used, but a small plane could land and take off from there.”
“That’s got to be it.” I wondered if my mother was in the Hummer. If she was alive and conscious, what was she thinking about Malachi and Jamin? Did she even have any recollection of her past?
“Alex, we’ll catch them,” Brad said. “Before they take off. We’ll get to them.”
He was trying to say the right things, but I knew he was promising something that couldn’t be guaranteed.
“What the—” Vandiver shouted as the van lurched to a stop, skidding across dirt and wet leaves.
Brad reached for me, but the force sent my body flying. I tumbled forward, stopping next to Vandiver’s feet.
“What happened?” I asked with my feet still above my head.
He unlatched his seatbelt and swung open his door. “It’s a body.”
Scrambling to my feet, I crawled over the front bucket seat and out the door.
“Archie!” Vandiver yelled, dropping to his knees.
I was right behind him. At first, Archie didn’t move or utter a word. Finally, a moan, and then he turned over. His face looked like it had been the hood ornament when the Hummer had blasted through the barn.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Alex….” He extended a hand toward me. A blood-soaked bandage wrapped his middle finger.
“What the hell happened, Archie?”
“They beat the shit out of me, so I spit on that motherfucker, Malachi, and flipped off his hairy beast friend.” He chuckled, but it morphed into an agonizing cough. “That’s right, I flipped him off. So they cut off most of my middle finger.”
“Holy shit,” Brad said, sidling up next to us.
“My thoughts exactly, wonder boy,” Archie said, attempting to sit up. Vandiver gave him a hand.
“Did they stop and let you out of the Hummer?” Brad asked.
“That would have been far too courteous. For those of us going straight to hell, manners aren’t tops on their list.” He coughed once more. “They opened the door while the frickin’ tank was hauling ass. They were fighting over whether to shoot me dead or push me out. So I just jumped and saved the debate.”
I looked down the path, searching for lights. Nothing. “How long since you jumped?”
“Two, three minutes. Not long.”
“Was my mom in the Hummer?”
He held up two fingers.
“What does that mean?” Vandiver asked.
“Two ladies on board. Well, one was a teenage girl. I heard them call her Shiloh. She was crying the whole time. But your mom helped calm her. She was being strong.”
A swell of emotion shot up my spine, a hint of tears at the corners of my eyes. “Can you walk?”
“Just toss me in the back. I’ll live.”
We weren’t that callous. Vandiver and Brad carried Archie into the back and set him on the floor, his back against the wall. Vandiver threw the gear into drive, and the van was back to eating dirt in no time.
“Is there a tower at this airstrip?” I asked, as the van bobbed up and down.
“Not sure. If so, they don’t work twenty-four/seven. If there’s a plane there, it’s likely been done without knowledge from any FAA officials.”
I put my hand on Brad’s shoulder. “Call Jerry. We need his permission to scramble a jet, just in case they take off.”
Brad rang Jerry as I looked ahead and saw a break in the trees.
“That’s it, up ahead,” Vandiver said, cutting the van right through a thick bundle of bushes, sending me airborne. I fell to my knees.
“Everyone okay back there?”
I turned and glanced at Archie, who grimaced but gave me the thumbs-up.
I pulled myself upright, then crawled toward the front. I saw red lights flashing on a single engine plane near the end of the runway, a Hummer parked next to it with the doors open.
“Where’s the front gate to this airstrip?”
“It’s down another half mile. Can’t waste the time. Hold on,” Vandiver called out as we barreled through a chain-link fence. One of the metal posts whipped around, punching a hole through the front glass. Vandiver held up an arm and cried out. I quickly grasped the steering wheel and tried to keep us from turning on our side.
“I’ve got glass in my right eye!”
A cold, wet wind whipped through the hole in the windshield. “I’ve got it, Vandiver.” I steered as best as I could while Vandiver recovered. I heard the airplane revving its engine, and then it started to move away from us. We were still fifty yards from the runway. I slammed my foot on top of Vandiver’s, and the van lurched forward.
“I’ve got it, Alex,” he said, holding one hand over his bloody eye, grip
ping the steering wheel, his foot back on the gas.
We instantly gained ground on the plane. “How long’s the runway?”
“Think it’s three thousand feet.”
“Short as hell,” Brad said.
I pulled my Glock from the holster. “Pull up next to it. Brad, open the side of the van.”
Brad slid the door open, and a rush of wind poured into the van, causing Vandiver to swerve a bit. Just a single car length behind the plane, we were gaining on them, but the plane was picking up speed. I could see flaps on the airplane turn downward. Brad looked at me and the gun. “You can’t shoot them. If you puncture the gas tank, they could crash after takeoff.”
I heard him, but I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. Vandiver edged the van closer to the plane so that I could see in the window. A woman’s face.
“Mom,” I called out.
A big hand shoved her head out of the way, and then I saw him. Malachi and those haunting eyes. A flashback to when I was a kid—the man outside the grocery store. The one who had acted all high and mighty. He was the one who had cajoled my mother into leaving me, her family.
With the wind rocking me left and right, I pulled my gun up and took aim at the man who had shredded my family.
“Stop,” Brad called out, grabbing my arm. “You could hurt your mom.”
Just then, the airplane door popped open, and my mom stuck out a hand, then half her body. Malachi was trying to pull her back.
“Pull up closer,” I yelled. Vandiver moved us within eight feet of the cabin, but the airplane’s tires were no more than a couple of feet from the van. One little twitch, and we could end up in a crash that could kill us all.
My mom smacked at the hands trying to pull her back in. She bit down on Malachi’s arm, giving her a brief moment to stick her hand out toward me. I tossed my gun into the van and did the same as my mother, Brad holding on to my belt loop as I leaned out at a forty-five degree angle. I stretched as far as I could go, her hand no more than six inches away. The pavement whizzed underneath me at a dizzying speed, the strained engines and blustery wind making it impossible to hear my own voice as I called out, “Closer. Get me closer.”
Brad was now using two hands to secure me. Archie was holding him, his arm locked onto the front seat.
The Alex Troutt Thrillers: Books 4-6 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set Book 2) Page 70
