Braving The Risk

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Braving The Risk Page 6

by Trent Russell


  This could be the break Carl was looking for.

  “Tara! Wait!” Carl charged ahead of her, toward the foot of one of the escalators. “Let’s take a trip upstairs! Maybe we can lure them up there!” He started his dash up the escalator. “Probably get the high ground up there.”

  Tara followed after him. “Fine by me!”

  Carl soon reached the top. Tara looked over her shoulder. Cyrus and his men were approaching the escalators. “Damn. If I had any more shots I could hit them from above. Maybe I ought to toss this thing at them.”

  “Don’t. Keep it. You never know if you can find some new ammunition,” Carl said as he ran up onto the second floor. He slowed only to wait for Tara to step off the escalator and join him.

  The path ahead was much narrower than on the ground floor, a route that cut between a banister that barricaded off the edge of the floor and the store units on the other side. But the good news was that the path ran straight forward, with no obstructions. Carl could run ahead without a cart or a fountain in his way to dash around and slow his momentum.

  He took off, nearly bumping against a large yellow cleaning cart, with Tara close behind him. “So, what’s the plan?” Tara asked between heavy breaths. “Run until one side drops?”

  “We need good cover,” Carl replied.

  Preferably, he would have liked some time to get his bearings. He still was smarting from running into those two new goons, and he wanted time to rethink his strategy. Counting Cyrus, Ilario and Whitney along with the other two, that made five against two. Basically, he was back to where he had started when he had taken on Cyrus’s party in the food court. No, he was actually worse off. Those two new men were more formidable than John and Scott, plus Carl and Tara were out of ammunition, beaten up, and somewhat exhausted.

  Carl whizzed past a pair of scaffoldings. Construction materials laced this area of the mall. Carl slowed down. The store he just had passed was hollowed out, the sign taken down from the storefront and covered with a plastic tarp used for painting. The storefront up ahead also was fitted with scaffolding, both inside and outside. But it was the tops of the scaffolding that caught Carl’s interest. Black tarps hung over the sides of the scaffolding’s railing.

  “Tara!” Carl turned into the store. “Here!” Then he leaped onto the scaffolding and climbed up it. “Get on top!”

  Tara followed. “I might need some help. I didn’t go through basic training.” She jumped onto the support, but her foot slipped a little. Carl, now on top, reached down and grabbed her. He helped her the rest of the way.

  “So, what are we going to do?” Tara asked once she had joined Carl on the scaffolding.

  Carl ran across the metal catwalk toward the tarp that hung down over the mall corridor. “This is what we call an ambush,” he said with a smile.

  Chapter Eight

  A few minutes later, Carl and Tara were nestled underneath the scaffolding’s tarp on the top level. The pair laid on their bellies with the tarp over them. The tarp was draped over the middle support railing of the scaffolding, providing them with a little room over their bodies while keeping them covered enough that the shape of their bodies would not protrude through the tarp.

  Carl had raised the tarp in front of them just enough to peek out into the mall. He spotted Cyrus and his goons on the other side of the second floor. They were far enough away that Carl and Tara could talk in a whisper without being overheard.

  “They’ll circle back eventually,” Carl said quietly. “This’ll give us time to get ready. I tell you, I’ve taken enough tackles onto the floor for one day. I don’t know how stuntmen in the movies do it. I talked to one guy and he said they just learn how to fall.” Carl chuckled. “I still don’t know how you learn how to fall. I had no idea there was an art to falling.”

  “Sad part is all those stuntmen are now out of work since Hollywood’s all shut down,” Tara added. “Well, I guess everyone’s out of work now. It’s so weird to think of everything that’s changed.”

  Carl kept an eye through the gap. Cyrus and his party just had filed out of a store. The group bickered among themselves until Cyrus screamed at them and then continued down to the next store.

  “I just had a scary thought,” Tara said. “What if we can’t find Preston and Shyanne when this is over? What if they had to run away from the mall? It’s not like we can call or text Preston on his cellphone. I know we told them to wait outside, but we don’t know what’s out there. What if more of these psychos are out there waiting for us?”

  Carl drew in a long breath. “I know. I wish I had time to think all this through, but I couldn’t leave those people in the food court. I just hope they were able to get away, maybe escape the mall completely.”

  “I rag on Preston a lot, but seriously, I worry that he can’t handle all this. If he’s all by himself with Shyanne…” Tara shook her head. “I mean, they could bite it anywhere and we might never find them.”

  “I think Preston’s a little tougher than you might think. I sometimes worry about him too, but he helped me out once, saved my life. I know he seems like, what would you call him?” Carl laughed. “A commie pinko?”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” Tara said.

  “Well, to me, people are just people. Anyone can rise to the occasion, no matter what they believe. Even if they have to change a little, even if they have to put aside something in their mind that’s holding them back, they can rise up and do what’s right.”

  Tara chuckled. “Did you tell the Rally for Rights all that?”

  “I never got to speak in front of a large crowd until yesterday,” Carl said. “I spoke at high schools and military social clubs and the few podcasts and livestreams I did all were interviews, one on one stuff.” He sighed. “I wish I was able to tell more people what could happen. This world always had been held together with tape and wire. I knew one day it just was going to snap.”

  Their conversation paused as Cyrus and his crew left the next store. The marauders then resumed arguing over their next move.

  “Carl?” Tara asked, “Can I level with you?”

  “Sure. What’s on your mind?” Carl asked.

  Tara rested her chin on the metal scaffolding. “I really would love to go home. My parents’ home, I mean. I want all this to be over. I know I act like Miss Gung Ho around Preston, but inside I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Yeah, I guess my inner wimp is showing, huh?”

  “I wouldn’t say that at all,” Carl replied. “Tara, we’ve just watched our whole society go to ruin around us. Nobody should feel at home with that. I don’t blame you for wanting to escape, to find your home and flee into your bedroom to get away from all this.”

  “But we can’t run away. That’s the whole thing, isn’t it?” Tara asked.

  Carl shook his head. “No, no, we can’t. We’re going to have to make our own peace. In fact, we may have to fight for our own peace each day. But we’re not finished yet. You grew up near my home. If you want, we’ll head over to your parents’ place once we’ve dealt with these lowlifes. My parents’ farm isn’t too far away. Maybe we can both find our loved ones and make some peace out of all this after all.”

  Tara smiled. “Thanks. That means a lot.” Her smile then grew a little sad. “I want to tell Dad about Michael. I want him to, to…”

  “We probably should quiet down,” Carl suddenly said. “Cyrus’s group just walked out of sight. If they hit the back wall, they’ll soon circle around and end up here. Judging from how they were yelling and fighting with each other, they might be pretty pissed by the time they reach us.”

  Tara reached down beside her and pulled up a piece of rope. “Do you have time to run through the plan again?”

  Carl smiled as he looked at the rope in Tara’s hands. “Yeah.”

  Cyrus looked up at the scaffolding in front of the store. “This place is a rundown piece of shit,” he said.

  Ron and Drake followed a few paces behind Cyrus, then Ilar
io, and finally Whitney brought up the rear. Cyrus slowed down as he approached the store opening.

  “They couldn’t have doubled back to the escalators,” the older man said. “We’d have heard them running.”

  “They’re here.” Cyrus glanced at the scaffolding. “I know it.”

  Drake stepped past Cyrus. “You’re sounding like Jason with the mystic stuff.” He chuckled. “You can sense them, like The Force!” Then he waved his arms around.

  Ron quickly stepped past Cyrus and glared at Drake. “You be careful talking like that. Remember Lobo? He ran his mouth off about Jason while he was just over the fence. Lobo never spoke again after that, before he got killed in yesterday’s riots. I’m telling you, that man’s nobody you want to cross.”

  Drake smiled crookedly, but he also quit talking.

  “You two just shut up about Jason and go check the back room of this place.” Cyrus turned to Ilario and Whitney. “And you two, keep a watch outside to make sure the rats don’t try sneaking away from us!”

  Whitney and Ilario obeyed. Cyrus turned and began checking the left side of the store while Ron and Drake approached the back room.

  However, the pair didn’t get more than two steps before the tarp on the scaffolding above suddenly came to life and leaped down on the two men. Quickly, the pair were engulfed in tarp and wrestled to the ground by two shapes on top of them. Then, Carl and Tara stood up and grabbed the end of the tarp, swiftly wrapping up the pair like a Christmas present.

  Cyrus spun around in Carl and Tara’s direction as soon as the commotion occurred. “You!”

  “Tara, take care of them!” Carl jumped off the tarp to intercept a charging Cyrus. Tara quickly took her rope and bound the pair as fast as she could. Ron and Drake struggled and swore mightily, but Tara and Carl had successfully surprised them and bound them too tightly for them to escape any time soon.

  Thanks to a period of rest under the tarp, Carl was ready for a rematch. His fist struck Cyrus’s jaw. The man’s face was hard, and the brute only bounced back a little. This would not be an easy fight.

  Cyrus steadied himself quickly and threw his own punch at Carl. It was fast, not as fast as training with his fellow Marines, but enough to further concern Carl. This guy meant business.

  With Ron and Drake bound up in the tarp, Tara snatched the Louisville Slugger bat from the top level of the scaffolding, and just in time. Ilario was rushing at her, swinging.

  Ilario quickly pulled out a set of chains dangling from his belt. He wielded them like a whip, trying to strike Tara. Fortunately, the bat made a handy shield. Whenever he threw his chain, Tara smacked it away with the wooden bat.

  Unfortunately, there still was Whitney to deal with. At one point, Ilario snagged Tara’s bat with the chain and pulled on it. Tara suddenly found herself yanking back on the chain to keep the bat from flying out of her hands. But Whitney took the opportunity to dart in and slam Tara in the face. The blow was easily enough to send her down onto the floor.

  “Thanks.” Whitney grinned at Ilario. “You got all the heavy lifting done for me.”

  Ilario just glared at her as he pulled his chain back, tearing the bat out of Tara’s hands. Whitney then grabbed Tara by her hair and yanked her head up.

  “Nice moves.” Whitney struck her hard in the face. “But not good enough.”

  “Dammit!” Carl cried as he saw Tara fall from Whitney’s blow.

  He gasped for air. Cyrus’ blows had taken their toll. Carl softly cursed under his breath. Even the best Marine is, at the end of the day, a human being, and if he gets pounded enough, he’s going to buckle sooner or later. And Cyrus, although he was slowing down himself, was gaining the upper hand. Sadly, Carl’s plan was running into snags. Tara might be a good shooter, but she wasn’t nearly as adept in hand-to-hand combat as Carl was. Carl had hoped the bat would give Tara an edge, but it appeared Ilario possessed a hidden skill with his chain.

  By now their fight had taken them out of the store and into the mall, near the banister that overlooked the first floor. Cyrus loomed closer, but slowly. He seemed a little hesitant to get close to Carl, even though Carl was slowing down. Perhaps Carl still had put some fear of God into this guy, even as it seemed Cyrus might be able to come out on top. But as Carl raised his head and glanced at Cyrus’s shit-eating grin, he began thinking otherwise. Cyrus wanted to savor his upcoming kill.

  “C’mon,” Cyrus said with a chuckle. “C’mon, get up. This is getting fun. I want to knock you down a couple more times before I slam my boot into your head.”

  Carl coughed. “What the hell is wrong with you? The world’s gone to hell and you want to do what? Torture and kill innocent people? Hunt them down for sport?”

  “Damn. You are one self-righteous son of a bitch.” Cyrus spread his arms. “What are you, a policeman? Looks like you spent some time at the gym, or maybe in prison.”

  “I’m a former United States Marine,” Carl said through gritted teeth. “The people who protect your ass and everyone else’s overseas.”

  Cyrus laughed even louder. “A military guy. Shit, no wonder you were such a pain in the ass when this all started. This makes it even better.” Then he rushed over and kicked Carl hard in the stomach, causing him to go down hard onto the floor. “I hunted down and killed a military rat,” Cyrus added.

  Carl coughed. His abdomen stung. He had to get away from this monster’s reach, but pain seized his stomach and torso.

  “You want to know who I am, soldier?” Cyrus snapped his hand against his forehead in a mock salute. “Captain, Colonel, whoever the hell you are. I’m one of the hard working assholes who helps deliver your packages. See all these stores around you?” He jabbed his finger and circled it around quickly.

  “They’re closing up because of what I do. Every damn day I grab boxes and throw them in a delivery truck for an online e-business. Made my muscles pretty big and strong.” He made a fist and shook it. “Course, I’d also pull my back once every few months because the warehouse wouldn’t invest in proper safety equipment. But hey, that’s the deal, right?”

  Carl tried to steady his breathing. He hoped this moron would talk enough for Carl to get his bearings, but he feared he was nearing the end of his rope.

  “A guy like me keeps in touch with other guys who think the same way. We talk about all the things we’d do if only the cops weren’t around. Hell, if there wasn’t anybody around to get in our way. And then one day, we get our wish.” Cyrus laughed. “No more busting my ass to work the night shift. No more worker’s comp claims. No more calls to my insurance company. No more court dates with my ex-wife!”

  Just as Carl was about to stand up, Cyrus backhanded him right in the face. It was one of the worst moves Cyrus could have made short of killing him, for it sent Carl down on the floor, his eyes shut, the world feeling dizzy all around him. He feared Cyrus may have even blinded him.

  “We lived in your world. We hid in it, played by the rules with our heads down. Now we’re free. Free as free can get!” Cyrus leaned next to Carl’s ear. “This is our world now, soldier. And it’s fitting that a military boy like you is just the start.”

  Tara’s scream quickly cut off Cyrus. Carl lifted his head and opened his eyes. Although blurry, he could see Tara charge into view despite a heavy limp. She swung with her bat but missed and fell over. Ilario and Whitney followed right behind her.

  “Oh yeah, I almost forgot about her,” Cyrus said with a chuckle. “The hunting chick.”

  Carl struggled to stand. Blood trickled down his nose. “Dammit, just let her go. You want a kill? Kill me.”

  “Who said I was going to kill her?” Cyrus asked as he turned to look at Tara on the floor.

  Whitney folded her arms. “Wait, we’re not going to ice her?”

  Cyrus turned and looked right into Whitney’s eyes. “Some are prey, some are pets. Marine Boy here is prey, Hunter Chick down there will be our pet.”

  Whitney glanced at Tara. “She better
look amazing under that hunting gear because she doesn’t look like much from where I’m standing.”

  Carl trembled. What were those monsters planning to do to Tara? No, he had to get up. He had to take them out, for Tara’s sake.

  Cyrus chuckled. “Don’t worry, soldier. We’ll keep her around a while. She won’t get much sleep, but we will keep her fed. Although when Jason gets here, I think all bets will be off for your girlfriend.”

  Carl didn’t care about who ‘Jason’ was. He blinked his eyes furiously to restore clear vision while he tried ignoring the pain. Stopping Cyrus and saving Tara was his number one goal, but now he was outnumbered. He was in no shape to fight one person, let alone three.

  He had one chance. Cyrus was close to the guardrail. If Carl just could get up and tackle him, Carl might be able to fling both of them over the edge. It would practically be a suicide run. The impact of hitting the floor almost surely would kill him or at least cripple him, and without a working hospital nearby he would soon be dead in any case.

  Maybe it’ll shock these other two into running, or maybe Tara will have a chance to get out of here. That would make this last strike worth it. Preston and Shyanne likely had fled the mall, as Carl had wished. With Tara out of danger, everyone under Carl’s protection will have escaped.

  And that is all a good soldier can ask for.

  Carl Mathers summoned every ounce of strength that his body could muster. He sprang up and tackled Cyrus hard, slamming the brute in the stomach. From there, Carl pushed hard and fast, hurling the two of them up against the banister.

  Carl tried to fling them both over as he had planned. He tried…he tried…

  With a roar, Cyrus pushed back on Carl. Carl’s shoes skidded on the floor. Carl’s momentum was stopped dead against Cyrus’s strength. Then, with a mighty shove, Cyrus pushed Carl hard and flung the man onto his back. He was awake, but with no more strength to fight.

 

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