by N.W. Harris
A knock on the door woke Shane with a start. The sun had set, and thick darkness engulfed the room.
“Yeah,” Shane yelled, hating he had to get out of the comfortable hotel bed. He felt like he’d just fallen asleep and, with Kelly pressed against him, he wanted to stay where he was forever.
The door opened, and a flashlight shined in.
“You two lovebirds ready to roll?” Steve teased.
Aggravated and irritable, Shane almost objected to being called lovebirds, but Kelly spoke before he had a chance.
“We’re coming,” Kelly said through a yawn, climbing off the bed and stretching.
That she didn’t retaliate to Steve’s comment sent heat surging through his body all over again. Shaking off the embarrassing surge of emotion, Shane got up, feeling like the short nap made him sleepier instead of refreshing him.
They followed Steve out into the living room, which was lit up by a battery-powered lantern sitting on the coffee table. Jules waited by the front door, her arms crossed and her expression impatient. Shane and Kelly slipped on their body armor and helmets, and then Aaron handed them their guns. The cold metal of the M-16’s stalk in Shane’s hands brought the reality of the battle they would soon face to the surface.
He glanced at Kelly, remembering the tender moment they’d shared a couple of hours ago, and how it seemed like the weapon was starting to affect her mind. Shane was scared fully awake, knowing he had to keep her safe—to shut down the weapon before it got to her.
“Follow me,” Jules said, then turned and led the way out of the room, down the hall and into the lobby.
Kids milled around the lobby, filling their backpacks with extra ammo and supplies and loading their guns. A cloud of excitement and dread amplified the tension in the room. Jules led Shane and his group over to a couple of tables set up with food. Shane picked up a sandwich and a soda, taking a big bite. His nerves were winding tighter by the second, and he didn’t have much of an appetite, but he knew he’d need the energy so he forced the sandwich down as fast as he could.
“You guys get some rest?” Maurice asked, walking across the lobby toward them.
“A little,” Tracy replied, sounding annoyed by his concern, like the business at hand was far more important. “Are your people ready?”
“They’re all on edge,” Maurice said, glancing around the lobby. “But they’ll be fine.”
Jules provided backpacks with water bottles and snacks for each member of Shane’s team. Tracy split the remaining M-16 clips between them, and Shane stuffed the six she gave him into his pack. Trying not to worry they’d run out of ammo before they made it to the capitol, he put the backpack on and slung his gun over his shoulder. Walking over to the busted-out glass that was once the front entrance to the hotel, he gazed out into the darkness.
He remembered his football coach telling him a team could only be as strong as its leader. These kids would be looking for an example of courage and aggression. Maurice seemed to be a natural leader, and Shane wasn’t sure he could do any better. But he couldn’t leave Kelly’s or any of his other friends’ safety in the hands of a stranger. Whether he liked it or not, Shane had to take charge of these kids and lead them downtown. He took a deep breath, trying to channel Coach Rice one more time. He turned around, facing the kids scattered across the lobby.
“Alright people,” he boomed. They all stopped chattering and turned toward him, eyes wide with anticipation. “We got a hell of a fight ahead of us, but we have the advantage. Shamus’ gang fights for the sake of fighting—they have nothing to live for. We fight for our little brothers and our sisters. We fight to protect those we love,” Shane glanced at Kelly, “so we cannot lose.”
The kids stared at him, as if waiting for him to say something else. Shane had run out of words, and he hoped they’d cheer and rush out of the building into battle—like the football team heading onto the field. Of course, this wasn’t a game. Shane could tell by the frightened looks on their faces that they knew many of them would die on this dreaded night.
“Let’s go!” Shane shouted, pivoting on his heel.
He hoped the kids would stand up and follow him, but he didn’t dare look back to find out if they did. He knew he couldn’t show any hesitation, and he’d fight his way downtown by himself if they didn’t join him anyway. There was no turning back for Shane—he was going to shut the weapon down or die trying.
“You heard the man,” Maurice said with a booming voice behind him. “On your feet—let’s do this.”
A rustling and a wave of chatter followed. When Shane turned down the sidewalk, Kelly stepped to his right side and Aaron on his left. He dared a glance over his shoulder and saw Tracy and Steve behind him. Maurice’s people spilled out of the hotel and fell in after Shane’s brave little group, following them down the street.
They’d gone a block, weaving around car accidents and stepping over the bloated carcasses of adults, when Shane heard Maurice yell at the chattering mob, “Keep quiet! We don’t want them to hear us coming.”
A moment later, Maurice jogged up and walked next to Shane. He carried his black shotgun and had two pistols strapped to his waist that looked like the type the police used.
“While I admire your general badassness in leading us into the fight, we can’t have you guys marching into Shamus’ teeth at the head of the group,” Maurice said.
Shane looked at him, surprised by the comment. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you guys are the only ones who know how to shut off this super weapon that’s downtown, right?”
“Yeah—I suppose so,” Shane replied, not slowing his urgent pace.
“So we need to get you past Shamus’ gang alive, so you can do what you got to do,” Maurice said, his tone saying it should be obvious.
“What do you propose?” It relieved Shane that Maurice was thinking on his feet and acting like the leader Shane suspected he might be.
“I say we have my people surround you, and then we’ll push straight towards the capitol building. Once we’re there, we can hold off Shamus’ gang while you guys go inside and do your thing.”
“Okay—sounds good,” Shane replied. The stocky kid turned to go back to his group. “Hey Maurice,” Shane said, stopping him.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Thanks for helping us, man.”
“I didn’t think we had a choice,” Maurice replied, flashing a smile.
Two minutes later, Maurice had passed through the crowd behind Shane and his friends. Shane heard the jovial kid telling everyone to turn off their flashlights and ordering some of them to run ahead and take up position in front of the group. Half of the mob ran forward on either side of Shane, more kids than he saw earlier when Maurice called for those brave enough to help at the parking structure. Shane realized, to his relief, Maurice must’ve gathered more recruits while he napped, and now he was surrounded by a small army of brave teenagers.
“We should cover the upper parts of the buildings on either side,” Tracy said, waving the barrel of her gun at the second floor of an office building they passed. “I’m betting they’ll attack us from up there.”
The wind kicked up, covering the noise of hundreds of feet pattering down the dark, five-lane street. Lightning flashed across the sky, and Shane worried they might have to deal with another tornado on top of all the daunting challenges already ahead of them. But other than the brewing storm, the city seemed quiet. Shane hoped Shamus’ people had sought shelter and called it a night. So many lives would be saved if they could make it to the capitol building undetected.
A motorcycle engine roared to life down a side street to their right, followed by another to their left, shattering any chance they hadn’t been noticed. The engines revved and then grew quieter, headed toward downtown. Shane guessed they were scouts who went to tell Shamus to prepare for the approaching assault.
“They’ve spotted us,” Shane shouted, adrenaline pumping throug
h his veins and sweat forming on his brow. “Brace yourselves, people.”
