by Sable Hunter
From the kitchen, another man emerged wearing a baseball cap and a hunting vest. He too was armed. “You look too young to be a doctor.”
“I’m a physicians’ assistant.” Taz had her answer ready. “Where’s Mickey?”
“Take her to him, Burgess. He’s sick and getting worse.” The owner of the house spoke up.
“Quiet, Ainsley! This is my rodeo now, not yours. Get up the stairs, bitch!”
“I thought there was only one hostage, now I know there’s six.” Taz spoke conversationally, her first message to whoever was listening in.
“Shut up. You don’t know anything.” He drew back and struck her with the butt end of the gun right between the shoulder blades.
A small gasp was the only sound she made. “I know that’s a pretty big gun you’re carrying. What are those? AK-47’s? Don’t you think that’s a bit of over-kill?”
“I said shut-up!” This time he cocked the gun. “I’ll blow your head off, cunt. Give me a reason.”
Taz knew when to be quiet, at least now her team knew what kind of guns the trio were carrying.
When she mounted the last of the narrow wooden stairs, the man behind her grunted out the words. “Left, first door on your right.”
Taz’s heart beat quickened as she realized she was about to find Mickey. “You’ve left him alone?” A sick feeling of fear overwhelmed her. What if he was already dead?”
“I’ve been too busy talking to those assholes who support a government takeover of America. We’ve got to stand up and protect our rights, protect the Constitution!”
“Right now I’m only concerned about the rights of an innocent little boy,” she whispered more to herself than the man behind her. When he didn’t reach around her to open the door, she did. The moment she stepped in, she could smell sickness. Sweat. Urine. Vomit. Sympathy rose in her soul. “Mickey?”
She went to him, kneeling on the mattress. He was a tiny boy with blonde hair and freckles like hers. Reaching over to the bedside table, she switched on the lamp. To her immense relief she could see the faint rising and falling of his chest. “He’s alive,” she announced, knowing her team could hear.
Immediately she went to work, taking his vitals, measuring his blood sugar. “Mickey, Mickey, you need to wake up so I can meet you.” His skin was clammy. “I need some warm water and ask them if they have any juice.”
Burgess, who stood at the door, barked at her. “I’m not the damn maid. Rice! Send up Ainsley’s daughter-in-law and tell her to step on it!”
In a few moments, the frightened woman came into the room where Taz worked on Mickey. Smiling, Taz asked her for the items she needed. “I’d like to wash him a bit. Do you have anything clean he could wear? He’s so small.”
“I might have some T-shirts my daughter used to wear and my nephew might have left clothes here. I’ll check.”
The reading of Mickey’s blood sugar indicated he needed insulin. She prepared a shot and hoped to heck she was doing the right thing. Carefully, Taz went over in her mind the directions she’d been given. Yes, this was right. “Okay, little buddy. This should make you feel better soon.”
* * *
Deacon groaned, listening to the transmission. “I’m going to kill them if they hurt her.”
“Here, have a cookie.” Grey handed him an Oreo. “She can handle herself.”
“I know, but right now she’s trying to help Mickey. She’s just putting up with whatever they want to do to her. She can’t afford to piss them off anyway.”
“No, but look what we know already. Ainsley and his family aren’t calling the shots. We know Mickey is alive and we know what weapons they’re carrying. She’s doing a good job.”
“When you talked to her alone, what did you tell her to do about getting out?”
“I told her not to leave without the child. I also told her if things start to disintegrate, get the child to the safest place she can find and call us in. She knows walking out with Mickey is the best possible scenario, but now that we know Ainsley and his family are at risk, the matter is a bit more complicated.”
Deacon understood. “A lot of things could go wrong, Grey.” No matter how much he hoped this all turned out well for everyone involved, Taz was undoubtedly his main concern. His feelings just confirmed what he’d feared. When she was part of the equation, his priorities changed–the job came secondary to his woman.
His woman. God, he was in serious, serious trouble.
* * *
For a good ten minutes, Taz watched Mickey closely. She’d bathed him in warm water, and changed his clothes to make him as comfortable as possible. The insulin should do its work soon. Her grandmother had spells of weakness, but she’d never been this unresponsive. A few more prayers joined the one she’d offered earlier. Occasionally she would whisper to him, her comments more for Deacon, if he was listening, than the child. “Everything is going to be okay. Nothing bad is going to happen. As soon as you feel better, we’ll explore a bit. Come on, Mickey. My name’s Taz and I can’t wait to meet you.” As if waking up from a deep sleep, the little boy stirred. “Mickey?” He moaned, his eyelids fluttering.
“Mommy?”
“You’ll see your mommy soon, honey.” She put a hand under his neck. “Can you sit up? I’ve got juice.”
With her help, he sat up and drank the juice thirstily. She helped him, rubbing his back.
“Now the kid’s okay, you can get out of here!” Burgess announced.
“Only if you’ll let him leave with me,” she countered, keeping one eye on him and one eye on Mickey.
“Not a chance. I just meant out of this room and back downstairs with the others. I’m sure the three of us can find something fun to do.”
She tried to ignore him, knowing his comment was a veiled sexual threat. “Do you feel like going downstairs, Mickey?” Taz knew the upstairs offered no hope of escape, it was best to get down below. Burgess motioned with his gun as if he were herding them out. Mickey was weak, so Taz picked him up. He was almost too big for her to carry, but she managed. What they would do next she didn’t know.
“Hurry up!” He jabbed the gun in her back again. As soon as they reached the bottom step, Taz sat Mickey down.
“Come on, let’s find a place to sit. Do you want to watch television?”
“Burgess!” Rice yelled. Cops are calling again.
“Get out of my way.” Burgess pushed her to one side. “What do they say?”
“They’re asking about the bitch and the kid.”
Good cover, Taz thought. Asking about her and Taz would be normal. Keeping these men in the dark that she could send messages outside was paramount.
The Ainsley’s made room for them and the young girl found a cartoon channel. She stood, time to accomplish some of her goals. “Can I get him something to eat?” Looking around at the others, she included them. “Are you hungry? Can I help with the food?”
“Sit down!” Rice barked.
“I could eat,” Helmer said with a hopeful expression. Taz recognized him as the weakest link.
“There’s lunch meat and some Little Debbie cakes.” Lisa offered. “I could help.”
Taz looked to Helmer for permission. “I’ll make something for everyone. Maybe a pot of coffee?”
“Shit.” Rice waved his hand dismissively. “Go with them, Helmer. At least we took care of the back door, it’s nailed shut. Don’t let them get away with any shit like pocketing a knife in the kitchen or something.”
“I won’t.” Helmer assured his partner in crime as he trailed along behind Taz like a big St. Bernard. “We haven’t had much to eat.”
“Well, we can remedy that.” She cut her eyes at the younger Mrs. Ainsley. “Do we have chips of some kind?”
“I think so.” Lisa began to rummage in the pantry, pulling out the chips as well as some cookies.
Taz found the sandwich makings and began to assemble everything. Soon she had a platter filled. “Let me put on the coffee.
We’ll have everything ready in just a few minutes.”
“Looks good,” Helmer gazed at the sandwiches.
“I hope I made enough, if not I’ll make more.” She’d spied an unopened loaf of bread and some canned tuna in the pantry. “Do you want to take these?” She indicated the platter of sweets and chips, addressing Lisa.
“Yea, sure.” She picked it up and left, leaving her alone with Helmer.
“Why don’t you have one now. Before they’re picked over.” With a slight smile, she offered the platter of sandwiches to Helmer.
“Gee, thanks.” He accepted one and began to eat.
“Do you think I could use the restroom?” she asked in a hopeful voice.
“Sure. Right around that corner.” He pointed, chewing loudly.
Recalling the layout of the house, she followed his direction, stopping to open and shut the door. But instead of the bathroom, she went a few more feet down the hall to the cellar door. Her intent was to find out if the outside entrance to the storm cellar was unlocked.
Holding her breath, she turned the door knob, a slight creak had her looking over her shoulder. So far, so good. Easing the door open, she crept inside. “I’m going in the basement,” she announced to the darkness. Pushing the door closed behind her, she felt on the wall for a light. When she found it, Taz let out a sigh of relief. Before her lay about fifteen steps and at the bottom, a junked up area. She hurried down, then picked her way among piles of boxes and dusty antique furniture. Another door to the left drew her eye. Going over, she opened it–thoughts of scary movies and ghosts came to mind. Taz shivered, then forced the silly thoughts from her head. There were things to be scared of in this world–but most of them walked around on two very human feet.
Once she was in the smaller room, she realized the walls were reinforced and there was water and canned goods stored on a small series of shelves. On the far side was four steps leading up to a pair of doors that set at a forty-five-degree angle with the top being closer to her than the bottom. “Please, please, be open.” If they weren’t she’d have to try and slip outside. “They aren’t going to let me leave of their own free will. But if these doors will open, we have a chance.” She grasped the handles and pushed. After a couple of seconds, they gave way and her face was blasted by a wave of cool air. “Eureka!” she exclaimed, then looked around guiltily. “This is going to work. Thank you Wizard of Oz! When I can, this will be our ticket out of here. I’ll keep you posted.”
* * *
“Did you hear that? She’s found a way out.” Grey announced proudly. “What did she mean about the Wizard of Oz?”
“She’s used television and movies to help her master the language. Taz loves old movies. Apparently the cyclone scene stuck with her, she remembered everyone going into the storm cellar.”
“Ingenious. I have to say I’ve used some moves I saw on The Expendables.”
Deacon rolled his eyes. “Does that make you Rambo and me Jason Statham?”
“Maybe.” Grey laughed, but he kept his eyes pointing toward Ainsley’s house and his ear on the transmission.
“Those men she’s with are crazy. I’m worried. We’ve got to be ready to go in after her if necessary.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll keep your woman safe.”
“She’s not…” He sighed, the lie getting stuck in his throat.
“She’s not Sylvia.” Grey said simply.
“No, she’s not.” He couldn’t help but remember last night and how it felt to make love to her. “She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known.”
* * *
Taz watched Rice pacing the floor. He was obviously very angry. Burgess was on the phone with the negotiators. She was straining to hear his side of the conversation. Apparently they weren’t any closer to having their demands met than before. “Listen to me, asshole! Either you get me what I want or somebody dies!”
Taz stiffened. Her eyes moved around to the faces of the others. They didn’t seem aware. Was she wrong? This wasn’t Ainsley’s war anymore. She put a protective arm around Mickey who huddled against her, one of his little fists holding on to her shirt for dear life.
“Bullshit! Let me give it to you straight. You have one hour to land a helicopter at the gate to get us out of here. And there’d better be a million dollars waiting there for me and an assurance my friend has been released. One hour or I’m going to start killing people, starting with the kids and women. I’m not stupid. If we’re caught, we’ll go to prison for the rest of our lives–and I don’t intend to go for something so simple as standing up for the rights of all Americans. In every revolution some blood has to be shed.”
“I don’t feel too good,” Mickey groaned, as if on cue.
She looked at him, worried. “Perhaps you ate too much on the heels of the insulin and the juice. Do you need to go to the restroom?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered in a pitiful voice.
“May I take him, Mr. Helmer?”
Helmer was paying more attention to Burgess than he was to their captives. He waved her on. “Come right back.”
“He may have to throw up.” Her announcement seemed to be met with grimaces all around. “Come on, Mickey. Let me get my bag, just in case.” She edged the child toward the back. This was their chance. They would only have a few minutes. Getting to the front gate was out of the question. Making it to the property line would be hard, but Taz had to try. After leading Mickey a few steps, she picked him up and hurried to the cellar door. As soon as they were safely behind it, she began to speak–both to Mickey and to Deacon. “I know you don’t feel good, but we have to get out of here. They say they will only wait an hour more before…” She let her voice trail off, not wanting to scare the child. Before setting off, she slipped the knife, gun, and two of the syringes filled with sedation into her pockets. She just hoped to God she wouldn’t have to use them. “We’re heading to the fence line of the Baxter property. Deacon, if you’re listening, I hope someone is there waiting for us. Mickey still needs medical attention.”
Deacon was listening, but in the last few minutes all hell had broken loose. “Damn, I wish this was a two-way transmitter.” He couldn’t talk to Taz, couldn’t tell her what to look for. “I need to go in after her.”
“Bad idea,” Grey talked to Deacon as he headed to one of the four-wheelers they’d driven over to the site. “Where you are, you can see a half mile of the fence line each way. If you go in, you might miss her all together. I have to go to the front. Since they’ve discovered Taz and Mickey aren’t in the bathroom, Burgess has brought out the Ainsley kid to the front and they’re holding a gun to her head.”
“They probably don’t know about the storm cellar. I’m sure they’re searching the house, soon they’ll start searching the grounds.”
“Right.” Grey turned his attention to the radio, conferring with the Rangers who were waiting on a signal to mount a full-scale assault.
“Talk to me, Taz. Talk to me.” He felt like he was going crazy.
Taz wanted to call to Deacon, she just didn’t know if she was far enough from the house to try. Were they still out there waiting on her? Her adrenaline was pumping, but carrying Mickey wasn’t easy, especially in the dark. There was some moonlight, but the shadows of surrounding trees made staying on the sparse path difficult. She stepped as lightly as possible, trying not to make any noise. “Soon, Mickey,” she tried to comfort him. If he started crying, the noise would give their position away.
“Bitch!”
The angry voice sounded behind her. Taz gasped, clutching Mickey tighter. “Quiet, baby, quiet,” she whispered. “Let’s play a game. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’m gonna kill you, bitch!”
“Is that man chasing us? Are we gonna play hide and seek?”
“Yea, that’s right.” She stopped, ducked into a shadow and froze, trying to determine the distance between her and the man following. If he caught her, it would all be over.
/> At the fence, Deacon strained to see any evidence Taz was on the way. Once or twice he’d thought he heard her voice or a muffled shout, but he couldn’t understand what was being said. Grey had driven around the road to the front gate, taking over the matter personally. He knew they had a sniper in place, ready to take the man out if it looked like they were going to shoot the girl.
“Deacon!” Out of nowhere her cry came over the speaker.
“Taz!” he shouted, but he had no idea if she could hear him. “I’m here!” He waited, staring into the darkness. They’d already cut the wire, there was no barrier between him and her–if only he knew what angle she’d be coming from. He knew how a person could think they were traveling in a straight line only to find out later they’d veered off the path. Damn, he needed a flashlight. Suddenly an idea came to him, he’d blink the headlights on the four-wheeler.
Some distance away, Taz weighed her options. The child was shaking like a leaf and the man was fast approaching. There was no outrunning him. If it had been Helmer, she would’ve tried to reason with him, but the voice sounded like Paxton. He and Burgess were the hotheads. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone at this point.
“Bitch! I’m coming for you and the kid. Are you ready to die? The others are going to die too, there’s no escaping unless those idiots meet our demands.”
