Carl just had finished scrawling a diagram of the mall into the dirt before them. The quartet had trekked to the edge of the parking lot near the grassy field where the ground had turned to dirt in between the parking lot and the grass. It provided enough dirt for Carl to sketch out a mall diagram. He wasn’t going to let himself and his party charge in there without a plan, so he decided to spare these few moments to hash out a scheme to take down Cyrus and his men.
“Okay. Now, we just can’t waltz up to the main entrance. For one thing, they might see us coming through the glass, but they may also be expecting us.” Carl then stuck the stick back into the dirt and traced a curve around to the left-hand side. “So, we’ll use the grass for cover and sneak up on them like this. From what I remember, there aren’t any big windows on this side. Plus, there are no glass doors. This should give us the best chance of approaching without being detected.”
“What about guards?” Preston asked. “You always see them in movies. I know this is supposed to be real life, but lately real life has turned into something even weirder than a movie.”
“That’s good thinking,” Carl said. “That’s why we’re hiking through the grass. That way, even if they do set up patrols, they won’t spot us before we can spot them.”
Preston then caught Tara smiling at him. “Okay, what are you doing?”
“I just think it’s great that you’re now thinking like a soldier.” Tara waved her fingers. “You know, worrying about sneaking by the guards. And you’ve got that gun, too. Preston Wilson may just kick some ass on this mission.”
Preston drew back a little. “If I must,” he said. Then he turned to the diagram and did his best not to look at Tara.
“Now, we’re probably not going to be able to figure out how many of Cyrus’s men actually are in there before we engage,” Carl said. “So, we have to be ready for any sneak attacks. One of the first rules of not being caught by surprise is never having your back to any open doorway. So, if you have to stop, make sure you have a solid wall behind you. And watch for corners. Somebody could hide in those and spring out at you.” Carl then slapped his palms together. “Boom! You’re dead before you even can turn around.”
“Okay, question, Teach.” Preston raised his hand.
Carl chuckled. “Go ahead.”
“Are we going to make sure Chad and the others are alright before we go bad guy hunting?” Preston asked.
“I wish we could, but we might lead Cyrus or Jason right to them. If he’s got more men, one of them could follow us. Now, as for the other survivors…” Carl glanced at Tara, who leaned forward a little more intensely, for obvious reasons. “…if we can, we should scout where they are. If Cyrus and Jason are holding them, then we may have to hang back before engaging. Any wrong move could put those people in jeopardy. Then we end up with a hostage situation. They may force us to choose between our lives and theirs.”
“Haven’t you had to handle rescue missions when you were fighting in Iraq?” Tara asked.
Carl looked at the diagram. “Personally, no, but I’ve had to fight within close range of civilians and sometimes it’s not pretty. Terrorists don’t care who gets caught in a firefight. I don’t suspect these guys are going to be much more reasonable. Let’s just hope it doesn’t get that bad. Hopefully, Preston and Shyanne’s friends found the new survivors and have taken them in.”
“But if they can follow us to the hideout, they could follow those other people, too,” Preston said.
Carl nodded. “Right. So, let’s hope and pray we’re in time.”
The world around Scott grew blurrier every few minutes, along with the increasing pain in his chest. He had to face the grim fact that he was dying. He had dragged himself up against this water fountain, where his legs suddenly went numb. The bullet wound was killing him, slowly, and he had no way to call a hospital, not that it would do him much good. Nor did any of his “friends” elect to help him. He was left to bleed to death on the floor.
As he raised his head for what he figured would be the last time, he spotted movement in the store across from him. A woman was leaning against the door frame. She was dressed in an oversized white men’s shirt, long enough to cover her thighs just above her knees. She also wore white shoes and socks. Scott had heard a bunch of people pass by here in the night. Scott couldn’t recognize her face. Was she one of them?
“Hey…hey…” he cried out with a gurgle.
The woman stirred. She approached him, slowly, as if in a stupor. It was only when she was standing directly over him that Scott recognized her as Whitney. But even with blurred vision, Scott could tell she was drastically off. Her limbs jittered as she walked, her hair was messed up, and once she leaned over him, he could spot dried blood below her lip. But what had happened to her clothes? She was dressed in jeans and a shirt earlier. Why did she change out for that shirt?
“You’re still alive?” She sounded both bitter and amused.
“Bandages. There’s…got…to…”
“I can’t do shit for you, okay?” Whitney started trembling. “Yeah, it sucks dying. I’m lucky I’m still the hell alive.” Then she looked around her, in every direction. “But right now, I wish I was dead, too. That way I wouldn’t have to think about that perv touching me.” She cringed. “Goddamn you, Ilario. Damn you to hell.”
Scott actually managed to focus his eyes. “Ilario. He…he did that…”
“Yeah, the bastard had his way with me. You want details? Maybe it’ll give you a chubby?”
Scott shook his head. “No. Cut it out, Whitney. I don’t care. Ilario passed by earlier. Guy had a shit-eating grin. Didn’t care to…” Scott then coughed. A spate of blood coated the floor in front of him. “Didn’t care to help. Cyrus, Jason, they won’t do shit for me.”
“Jason’s here?” Whitney asked.
“Yeah. He brought…Mayfield…” Scott cringed. “Damn. It hurts to talk.”
Whitney looked around again before talking. “Where are they?”
“They’re zip tying…doors…going…hunt down…”
Scott’s eyes started to flutter. The end was coming. He likely would fall unconscious, then his insides simply would shut down due to blood loss or organ damage. Still, there was one more thing he could do, just to spite the sons of bitches who got him into this fix.
He reached into his front jeans pocket. “Here.” He pulled out a switchblade knife. “Ilario…shove it into his heart…” He held up the blade, but only slightly.
Whitney took it. “You bet,” she said.
Scott then smiled. “It was kind of fun for a while,” he whispered. “But…damn…what a way to end…”
His voice trailed off into incoherent mumbling. He still kept his eyes open and on Whitney, who stared at him for a little while, then flashed him a look of sympathy. It was the only kind look he had seen her give anyone.
As his eyes closed for the final time, he thought her look of pity was a good note to send him off on.
Carl gingerly pushed the tall blade of grass aside. “Bingo,” he whispered. The mall lay very close to them. The parking lot was at its narrowest here, with only two lanes to separate Carl’s party from the building. A short jog from this part of the grass easily could lead them to the building with a good chance of evading detection. Provided, of course, there were no sentries in the area.
“Tara, give us a scan of the right,” Carl said as he raised the binoculars that Tara had brought with her for her hunting trip. “I’ll take a look at the mall up ahead.”
Tara raised her rifle and put her eye to the scope. “Gotcha.” Then she turned the weapon toward the parking lot and the building’s far right end. Carl checked out the rest of the mall as she did so.
So far, so good. Not a soul was out walking the walkways that ran alongside the mall building. Carl was about to declare his scan a success, until he spotted a familiar and very unwelcome presence outside.
“Cyrus!” Carl whispered harshly.
Tara lowered her scope. “You spotted him?”
“Yeah,” Carl zeroed in on the man who nearly had killed him.
“What’s he doing?” Tara asked.
Preston leaned close to Tara. “I see him. He’s got something in his hand. Can you make it out?”
“Yeah,” Tara said, “Looks like zip ties.”
“What are zip ties?” Shyanne asked.
“They’re used to tie things together,” Carl replied. “Some of them can be pretty strong. But what’s Cyrus doing with them?”
They sat still and waited. Cyrus just looked around for a while as if scanning the area for intruders, or possibly, escape attempts. Then, he turned and walked back through the open door, slamming it shut behind him.
“I’m going to check it out. Stay here.” Carl rushed toward the building while keeping out of the door’s direct line of sight. Once he reached the side of the wall, he crept along it. Fortunately, the door was solid, but Carl was not willing to risk the door suddenly popping open. He was eager to take down Cyrus, but he would not let the brute get the jump on him.
As he approached the door, a sudden sawing sound grazed across his eardrums. No, that wasn’t sawing. It was more like a zipping sound, just an irritating one. The door slightly shook, and then stayed tightly closed as the zipping continued. Finally, the zipping ceased. The door stayed stationary.
A frightening possibility gripped Carl, but he had to test his idea to be sure. He reached over and pushed down on the handle. It didn’t move at all. Then he gripped the handle and pulled on it. He still couldn’t budge it an inch.
“Damn,” he whispered. He turned around and ran back to his friends. He didn’t even wait to pull the grass aside before he said, “The bastards are locking everyone inside! The zip ties, they’re for tying up the doors!”
Tara let out a four-letter word as she sprang to her feet. She glanced at Shyanne. “Sorry, baby.” Then she tromped through the grass to the parking lot, just behind Carl. “There’s got to be an exit they haven’t locked yet. We need to find it, now.”
“Wait, why not just use the main entrance?” Preston pointed to the far end of the mall. “They can’t tie those doors. You push on them.”
“Yeah, but they still can barricade those with furniture from the inside,” Carl said, “And besides, they’ll see us coming through the glass. No, Tara’s right. We’ve got to check every entrance we can find, and fast.”
Unfortunately, Carl’s instructions were easier said than done. Every door they encountered was locked tight. Not a single one would budge, even if Carl pulled on the handle with all of his might. They tried the last door before they would turn the corner. The main entrance lay on the other side. Carl shook his head, then pointed behind them, signaling them to retreat the other way. He still was not going to risk trying the front entrance.
They fled the other way to the back end of the mall. As with the front end, the mall did not vary much, just a collection of big stores that protruded from the very end, with some doors built into the mall structure that connected the stores to the main corridor inside. Unfortunately, each door was the same, tied down tight.
Carl began to worry. He was running out of options. He might have to charge the front entrance after all, but it was still the perfect place for Cyrus and Jason to lay a trap. Even with their guns, Carl figured the odds might be no better than even, plus he did not know if Jason possessed any firearms.
He looked back at the building, trying to see anything he might have missed. There was a gap between the big store and the mall structure. After walking a little closer, Carl discovered a set of ladder rungs that led up the side of the building to a closed door. The door was not big, in fact it looked more like a venting plate, but it still was big enough for an adult to slip through.
“I’m going to check something out,” Carl said.
He hurried to the bottom rung and then began his climb. In under a minute, he reached the door. He pushed on it. The door did not budge. He pushed harder. The door jostled, but only slightly. Still, it was enough to give Carl hope. Cyrus and Jason likely had missed this door. If they could just get it open…
Carl felt along the gaps between the door and the building. He decided to push up this time. He did, and the door did budge, though not by much.
“I get it,” he whispered. “This thing must slide up. I just pray this door isn’t locked.” Then he pushed as hard as he could.
The door caught. “Damn!” Carl gritted his teeth. It was locked, from the inside. Carl quickly pushed up again. If he could expose enough of the gap between the door and the building, he might just spot…
“The lock!” Carl had hit pay dirt. This door was locked on the inside using a standard padlock. By pushing on the door, Carl could widen the gap enough to partially expose the lock. But he had no tools to beat on the lock to knock it off. He had just one option, and it was a damn crazy one.
He turned and whispered fiercely below. “Tara. I need you to take a shot. You see this door? I need you to aim for the lock! Look through the scope.”
Tara complied. “I see it!” she shouted, her head pressed to the eyepiece. “Come on down and I’ll nail it.”
“No! I need to hold this door up. It’ll slide down and you won’t get a good shot. I have to stay here!”
“What? Carl, you’re too close! I might hit you!”
“Don’t worry! I’ve seen you with that scope. I think you can handle it.”
“But what if you get hit with a ricochet? You’re still too close.” Tara called back.
“We don’t have any choice!” Carl replied.
Tara was right about the danger. He was very close to the lock and not sporting any protective gear. Any flying piece of metal could do a number on him, perhaps even kill him if it flew hard enough into a major organ or artery. He just hoped all this yelling didn’t attract anyone’s attention in the mall, although they were far enough away from the main body that they should be okay unless a sentry passed by.
“Good grief.” Preston winced. “Doesn’t Carl ever turn down the serious risks?”
“He wouldn’t be Carl if he did, but damn.” Tara said, “It’s crazy enough to work.” She aimed the rifle at the door. “Okay, get ready!”
Carl held onto the door as tightly as he could, his entire body tensed. He fully expected to be struck by flying metal. He even had to fight the urge to climb down. Even having gone through the rigors of war, his instinct for self-preservation remained strong.
“Now!” Carl called out.
Tara pulled the trigger.
Chapter Fifteen
A loud pop shook Carl. He almost lost his grip from the sheer shock of the sound alone. A quick brush of wind blew past him. He waited, wondering if the sharp pain of a bullet ricochet would follow.
It didn’t. Carl withdrew his right hand from the ladder rung to pat himself. Nothing stung. He looked down and spotted no blood on his clothes or his skin.
“Carl!” Tara said, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine!” But what about the door? Carl turned to the spot where the lock was exposed. Instead of the metal ring, he only spotted a broken piece. The door also suddenly was dented, likely due to the bullet’s impact.
“Please, let this have worked.” Carl pushed up on the door. It sprung up much further, but then caught again. “Damn.” He pulled down, then pushed up. Maybe it was catching on a door hinge. By now Carl had exposed a sizable gap between the bottom of the door and the doorframe, but except for Shyanne no one else could crawl through it. “C’mon!” Carl pushed up harder. He was so close to breaking back into the mall. He could not fail now!
Then, with one final shove, he broke the door loose of whatever was obstructing it, sliding it all the way up. However, he nearly lost his balance. Quickly, Carl let himself fall chest-first into the opening.
Upon impact, he let out a cry of pain. The floor was metal and a little dirty. Fortunately, the surface was not sharp
, or he would have sliced his chest open. Carl steadied himself on the floor, bracing himself to get a look inside. He had exposed the inside of an air conditioning room. Right now, he was staring at heating, ventilation and air conditioning system, with a pipe that led out from the mechanism. Unsurprisingly, the system was inactive, deprived of power thanks to the EMP. It was a good thing too, for Carl doubted it would have been safe to navigate this room with the machinery in full operation.
He turned back to his friends. “We’re in business!”
Tara cheered. “Way to go, Carl!”
“Way to go for you. I’m lucky you’re such a good shot,” Carl called back with a laugh.
Preston grimaced. “I can’t make it.”
“Of course you can,” Tara said.
Preston was stalled between the HVAC machinery and the wall. One of the motors protruded into the path, blocking the way for anyone to walk through. Except Tara and Carl already had ducked down to get under it, and Shyanne was simply small enough not to hit the motor with her head. That just left Preston, who was ironically the skinniest of the bunch and could navigate the gap between the HVAC and the back wall the easiest of them all. Yet, now he was stuck here.
“Mister Preston, are you still scared because you had to climb so high?” Shyanne said while standing next to Carl.
“I was not scared,” Preston said with badly feigned confidence. “It wasn’t that high. I just really shouldn’t have looked down.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just shake it off. You’re inside now.” Carl reached for him. “Just slide down. I’ll pull you through.”
Preston nodded. “Thanks.” He did as Carl instructed. With a little help from Carl, Preston made it under the motor and had joined his companions. “This always looks easier in the movies,” he said as he brushed soot off his clothes.
The four of them had made it past the big HVAC mechanism to the other side of the room, where it was a little spacious. A folded-up chair lay near the wall. A single closed door led outside and into the mall.
Silent Interruption (Book 2): Braving The Risk Page 11
