Preston quickly grabbed onto the gun as if guarding a precious treasure. “You want me to hand over my gun? No, thanks.”
“Look, either that gun’s going into that mall attached to your hand or mine, but one way or the other, it’s time to use that baby,” Tara said.
“I have this for my protection, and besides.” Preston jabbed his thumb in Shyanne’s direction. “I’m guarding her!”
“Then she can come with us!” Tara said.
Preston’s eyes widened. “Have you lost your mind?”
“We’ll hide her, dumbass!” Tara’s voice rose. “Hide her in there or maybe out here in one of these cars. The fact is we need that gun. We can keep Shyanne safe without guarding her with it.”
“Forget it! I’m not going back in there and I’m not handing my gun to you,” Preston replied.
“Good Lord. You really won’t fight when the going gets tough, huh?” Tara laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Hey!” Preston’s face turned red. “I saved your sorry hide back there! Did you forget my ride in that cart? The weights, the mace…”
As Preston shouted back to Tara, Shyanne pushed open the door next to her and climbed out of the SUV. Then she walked around the vehicle to join Carl.
“Mister Carl, are you going to stop them from fighting?” she asked upon meeting him.
Carl looked down at her. “I may have to if this keeps up,” he said quietly. Then he turned his attention back to the bickering pair just as Tara was finishing a verbal jab at Preston.
“If you want to be a man of the people, you’ve got to prove it when the chips are down,” Tara said.
Preston gripped the back of the passenger’s side seat. “Look, let’s be real candid here. You’re not doing this because you want to help the people. You’re doing it because you thought you saw your dead boyfriend go in there. That’s why you’re acting like Lady Rambo, First Blood Part Two.”
Tara shrank back a little. A chill ran across Carl’s arms. Tara usually was ready with a snappy comeback, but it seemed Preston had drawn a little blood with that last verbal punch. Indeed, the redhead just snapped, “Pussy!” and then grabbed her rifle and turned to leave.
“She can’t go!” Shyanne grabbed Carl’s pant leg while pointing to the mall. “It’s dangerous!”
“I know.” Carl patted Shyanne on the shoulders. “Go back inside with Preston. I’ll deal with her.” Then he dashed after Tara, who was jogging quickly across the lot.
“Unless you want to help, leave me alone!” Tara shouted without turning around.
“I’m not going to let you throw your life away!” Carl soon caught up with her, then jumped out in front to cut her off.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” he quickly added, in a gentler tone. “I know you want to help those people, and I do too. But if we do this, we should do it together, prepared, and with a clear idea of how we’re going to pull it off. You can’t help Michael if you get yourself killed.”
Tara stopped, as she had no choice with Carl in the way. “He’s…he’s in there. And if any of those creeps get their hands on him…”
“I know.” Carl nodded. “But remember, even though Cyrus gave us a run for our money, he and his men probably are outnumbered. I bet they won’t move against them all immediately.” He glanced at the mall façade before them. “But they also may be making their own plans. We’ll wait until morning and then make our move.”
Tara gripped her rifle tighter. “I guess you’re right. Hell, you’re the Marine. What do I know?”
“Hey, remember, I was saved by that ‘weak kneed liberal,’ remember?” He nodded toward their SUV. “Even the strongest Marine is nothing without his team to back him up.”
Tara sighed. “Yeah, I know. Damn him, he really can push my buttons sometimes, but he did come through for us.” Then she looked directly into his eyes. “I hope we’re not driving you up the wall when we go at it. I just remembered that you’re always kinda off to the side having to listen to us. You must think we’re a couple of loons.”
Carl put on an innocent face as if he was going to reply in the affirmative. Then he smiled. “Maybe a little bit. I guess I can’t fault people for caring about how the world is run, especially if a lot of times it’s run pretty poorly.” Then he looked down at Tara’s rifle. “Hey, Tara, didn’t you say you were out of bullets?”
“Yeah. I pulled the trigger a few times back there and came up empty.”
“Well, look at your magazine.”
Tara raised her rifle and turned it so the magazine window showed. To her surprise, she noticed two bullets still showed in the window. If it had been empty, the magazine window would have empty.
“Holy shit!” she said. “I still have two shots? But why didn’t it fire?”
“The rifle’s not spent, it’s just damaged. That’s probably it,” Carl said, “Hey, maybe we can fix it before morning.”
Tara looked up. “I still have two shots. I mean, it’s not a lot, but…” Then she laughed. “Maybe it’s just what we need!”
“We can use every piece of ammo we can get our hands on. C’mon, let’s hurry back and tell the others.”
Tara pulled the small metal rod out from the barrel. “Clean as I can get it.”
She turned to Carl, who stood beside her. The pair had partially dissembled Tara’s rifle across the driver’s seat and the passenger’s seat and had worked as quickly as they could through the night hours, using whatever materials they could salvage from the SUV or nearby cars to clean it. A car antenna served them well as a cleaning rod. Although the sun remained down, Carl felt their night would not last much longer, and he hoped their work was almost finished.
“If we’re right, the rifle was smacked around in the battle and that knocked the spring out of alignment.” Carl glanced at the weapon, now assembled except for the magazine, which lay in the foot well under the glove compartment. “I just wish we could test this thing before reloading the magazine.”
Before Carl could opine further on their situation, Preston emerged from the SUV, yawning loudly. “Hey,” he said, “It’s so weird that I can sleep under an overpass much more easily than on a comfy car cushion. At least Shyanne’s taking a snooze.”
Tara chuckled. “We weren’t disturbing your beauty sleep, right?”
Preston rolled his eyes. “No. Actually, I have very good news.” He raised his right hand, which was clenched into a fist. “I thought of pulling up the floor mats in the back storage area. I found a spare tire…” Then he opened his hand. “And these babies.”
Tara’s eyes widened. “Four bullets?”
“Actually, I got eight in all but I couldn’t hold them all in my fist.” Preston handed the bullets to Carl and then quickly pulled out the remaining four from his pocket. “Whoever owns this baby must have dropped them inside the spare tire compartment and forgot about them.”
Carl studied the four bullets in his hand while Tara took Preston’s remaining bullets. “I think these will fit in your magazine no sweat.”
Tara laughed. “This is just what I need!” Then she turned to Preston. “Thanks!” She added, her smile fading. “Yeah, this is just what we needed. Thanks.”
Preston shrugged. “No problem.”
Carl watched Preston slink back into the SUV. Preston may have shown his worth to the team once again, but harmony between himself and Tara still was hard in coming. He glanced at Tara, who seemed to know what he was thinking.
“I’ll apologize to him for calling him a pussy,” she quickly said.
Carl smiled. “The soldier is nothing without good support.”
Tara giggled. “I said I’ll apologize.”
“So that makes eleven shots,” Carl said, “I like those odds a lot better, but I’d still like to test your rifle before taking it into battle. I’d rather know if I can’t count on it now before I face Cyrus again.”
Tara looked at the four bullets in her hand. “Then we’re going t
o have to sacrifice one to find out.”
Tara took aim at a nearby windshield. She had loaded the eight bullets Preston had given her into a separate magazine, one that she emptied out while running from the mob back in the city. She felt a little weird about shooting at someone else’s car, until Carl reminded her that these vehicles were unlikely to ever move again from their parking spots. Not to mention their owners probably never would return to reclaim their property.
Still, she couldn’t squeeze the trigger, trembling a little on the spot.
“Nervous?” Carl asked.
“A little. I just want this to work.” She sighed. “Please let this work.” Then she pulled the trigger.
A part of the windshield suddenly popped. Tara lowered her gun while shouting, “We did it!”
Carl rushed up to the car window. Tara’s shot had punctured a spider web into the right side of the windshield. “Not bad,” he said. “Looks like it’s good to go.”
“Thank God.” Tara then raised her rifle. “Now that we’ve got my sweetie here back into fighting shape, I just want to sit down and take a nap.”
“If you want to do that, you’d better hurry.” Carl ran back to her. “Daylight’s coming.”
“Right.” Tara hurried back to the SUV, but before she opened the door, she turned and said, “Hey! Thanks for stopping me back there.” Then she leaned back against the SUV. “I think…I’d like to talk about it now.”
“About what?”
“What happened to me and Michael.” Tara stood up. “I think I’m ready to get it out there.”
Chapter Twelve
Carl looked at the pair of Swiss Army knives on the driver’s side chair. “I forgot I had these,” he said as he turned to Tara. She was seated on the passenger side, with Preston and Shyanne awake and seated behind them. “These are all the weapons I’ve got left.” He picked up one of the knives, fingering its leather surface.
“I was too busy thinking about things I could use to take out Cyrus and his men quickly, or I would have drawn them.” He unfolded the blade and raised it high. “Preston, this baby’s yours.” He handed it to him. “With only two bullets left, you’re bound to need something else to defend yourself with.”
Preston nodded. “Thanks.”
Carl then offered the other one to Tara, but she pushed it back. “You probably need that more than I do.”
“Miss Tara!” Shyanne pushed her hand past the chair. She was gripping something small and thin. “I found this!”
“Hey!” Tara took it. “Thanks, Sweetie.” The redhead then unfolded a small blade the size of a nail file. “What is this?”
“A letter opener,” Preston said, “Shyanne found it in the back. Guess the guy who owns this must like to open his mail very neatly.”
Tara folded up the blade. “Cool. Thanks!”
Carl tucked the knife away. “Thanks, Shyanne. That pretty much covers us.” Then he turned to Tara, his smile fading. “So, do you want to talk about what we talked about earlier, or should we get on with the mission?”
Tara sighed. “No, let me just get this out. I’m like a boiling pot with the lid on it. I’m going to pop if I don’t say it.”
“Say what?” Preston asked.
Tara scratched her knee. “I want to give you an idea of why I freaked out on the Earhart overpass. Before I showed up and nearly…” She laughed. “…Nearly killed you two for thinking you were a bunch of pervs, I was caught up in the whole madness. I was traveling with Michael in his car when everything shut down. I told you before we were going hunting. So when we stopped, we grabbed our gear and headed down the road.”
She huffed before continuing. “But it was bad, real bad. We saw people gunning each other down in front of a drug store. Then a big mob showed up. They were tearing up everything. If they ran into you, God help you, because they’d shred you on the spot. They were a bunch of guys, a lot of young guys, but they all had that same bloodlust in their eyes. It was like something inside them went off once society fell apart.”
Carl had taken the opportunity to take out his Swiss Army knife again and make sure it opened and closed easily as Tara continued her story.
“We had our rifles. So, we took a bunch of the assholes out, but there just were too many, and they didn’t want to stop. It was like they wanted us so badly, even if it meant some of them would take a dirt nap. I shot and shot…” She pulled her leg a little closer inward to the seat. “It had taken a while before they finally gave up. Michael and I then found a huge gathering of survivors near a small strip mall. We thought we had found Heaven.” She laughed, but her expression quickly turned sour. “That didn’t last long.”
Tara drew in a long breath. This next bit of her tale did not seem easy in coming. Carl looked up and gave her his full attention.
“We showed up, started talking to them. Some of them had hiked there when their cars had stalled, but a lot of them had come from the stores or the homes close by. They were just caught unprepared when the lights went out. They were scared, confused, but some of them already were bringing water and food for everybody to share. We were able to relax. There was this one guy, Mel, he chatted with us for a while. He said he worked at a law office a few blocks away. He seemed okay, but he had this nervous twitch. I didn’t think it meant anything. I mean, God, we all were going through Hell. I didn’t think any of us could be normal now.”
Tara gripped the side of the seat. “We went inside this auto parts store at the edge of a strip mall. Mel came with us. The moment we stepped inside, we were ambushed. Mel grabbed me and threw me against the wall. They nailed Michael from behind. The guys, they…” Tara trembled. “I had seen one or two of them outside and they looked like normal people, not thugs or anything. One of them wore a school coach’s uniform. Another guy, he wore a flannel shirt and jeans. But inside that store they went nuts. They wanted our guns. And Mel…”
Tara gripped the chair harder. Carl was about to assure her that she didn’t need to spill out any more details, but then she spoke up.
“He had this big metal rod soaked in gas. When he knocked me down, he lit it on fire. He said he wanted to watch me scream as I burned. But Michael, bleeding, in bad shape, he rushed in and pushed him against the wall. He screamed for me to run. And then the rod fell in a pile of wrapping paper. That whole wall started to go up in fire.” Tara’s face tightened.
“I shot one of them. I know he went down. But then another man drew a handgun. He must have been keeping it as a last resort. He fired. I caught a piece of plastic in my leg when the bullet ricocheted off a shelf.” Then she patted her leg, which remained tied with a cloth where she had been wounded.
Tara sighed. “The fire started spreading to this shelf full of aerosol cans. I wanted to help Michael, but I couldn’t see him in the flames. I was near the door. I had to choose. So I ran back through the glass door and dropped to the ground. A few seconds later, there was an explosion. Not a big one, I mean the building still was standing, but all the glass just blew out. I had a glass shower rain all over me.”
Tara let that last bit hang out there.
“I barely remember what happened after that. My head was ringing. I turned and looked behind me and I saw a ton of smoke and fire leaping out of the store and right toward me. Then I saw some of the survivors running toward me. I…I couldn’t stay. I was afraid I was being ambushed. So, I stood up and ran for my life.” She grabbed the folds of her pants around her lower legs.
“I didn’t check to see if Michael had survived. He didn’t come out. He didn’t come after me. I found some bushes and I hid there. I looked back and the whole mall was coated with this smoke screen. Then I saw all those people and I had to run.” She shook her head. “I thought I was finished. I thought attackers would jump out from every shadow. And then I ran into you guys. Oh yeah, Mel, he was dressed in a white shirt with a red tie.”
With Tara’s story over, Preston settled back in his seat, looking ashen, while Car
l sat back. Now he understood why Tara had acted so petrified at the thought of meeting other survivors. The trauma of that moment had burned the fear into her, with Mel in particular serving as a major culprit. No wonder Tara couldn’t handle it when she spotted a man dressed just like Mel, with a white shirt and tie.
“I’m sorry,” Carl said. “I can understand why you preferred to stay alone.”
“Thanks,” Tara replied. “It’s hard, not just because of the ambush, but because I didn’t go back for Michael.”
“How could you?” Preston asked. “It sounds like the place was toast.”
“But I’m sure most of the people there weren’t nutjobs like Mel and his goons. Maybe they could have helped,” Tara said.
“Coulda, woulda, shoulda, it’s all meaningless,” Carl said. “For all you knew, he had been blown to pieces. In any case, no one could expect you to go rushing into a burning building to try rescuing someone. You probably would have died in there.”
“But I don’t understand how Michael survived. Maybe the people there did find him,” Tara said.
“Maybe he ducked out a back exit,” Carl said. “With all that fire and confusion, you could have missed him. The important thing is that he’s alive, now, and we can get to him.”
Preston nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we can.”
Carl turned to him. “So you’re in?”
Preston glanced at Tara. “Gun and all.”
Tara sat up. “I guess my bomb idea sounds a lot more horrible now that I’ve told the story.”
“Don’t sweat it. Like I said, it would have been a good idea if we weren’t using the bombs in closed quarters,” Carl said.
“So, we got two guns. Although I only have two shots.” Preston extended a finger, then brushed it. “Two Swiss Army knives and one letter opener.”
Carl scratched the back of his neck. “We’re in better shape than we looked last night when it seemed like we only had Preston’s gun to work with.” He glanced at Preston, then at Tara. “Even so, I don’t have to say how risky this is going to be. All three of us escaped once, but there’s no guarantee we can pull off a hat trick a second time. Even with the chance we can help Michael, are you two still sure you want to do this?”
Silent Interruption (Book 2): Braving The Risk Page 9
