He found it difficult to make it seem like just a normal walk. He kept wanting to hurry.
His heart was jitterbugging in his chest, and he could feel fear and adrenaline fluttering in his stomach. His mouth was dry, and he really wanted to hurry up and get this over with. He had steeled himself to do the job, and he would, but he didn’t like contemplating a man’s death beforehand. Even a man such as Jones.
He glanced at his watch again and sipped some water. Twelve-oh-one.
Onemoreminute, onemoreminute, onemoreminute…
Twelve-oh-two.
Now.
He set the water down quickly and reached into his waistband. His draw was smooth, and the slide racked effortlessly with a completely recognizable clang.
Time seemed to slow for Ed then.
He aimed for Jones’s midsection and squeezed the trigger. The explosion of noise and the sudden violent act seemed to cause McDaniels, only a couple of feet away, to pause.
“Stop!” Ed shouted to McDaniels.
McDaniels raised his hands in the air, face pale with shock and nervousness.
“Take whatever you want and go. I’m not going to stop you,” McDaniels said to him seriously.
“I know that. Barnes said you were a good one, so I’m trusting you now.” Ed stopped and they both turned toward a tremendous bang from the front side of the prison.
“That’s my group. I’m getting out of here. Anyone who wants to come needs to come now!” he yelled to the startled laborers.
The old man with the broken arm trotted over swiftly, obviously intent on getting out of there. Soon, several of the others came too. A couple of younger men and a few women.
“I have to stay. I have to protect my people in here,” McDaniels said regretfully.
Ed nodded. “Take this then,” he said, handing over the small radio and earbuds. “Turn this on for a couple of minutes every evening around nine o’clock. We’ll be back soon, maybe within a month, but I don’t know for sure. Gather your allies and try to get word to the ones you trust that things will be changing soon,” Ed advised. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“And tell Barnes thanks,” he added.
“You better hit me, so the others don’t get suspicious and think I conspired,” McDaniels said.
Ed frowned and nodded once. McDaniels turned and Ed reared back his arm, slamming the handle of the weapon into the back of his head.
Lord, I hope I didn’t kill him!
He fell forward to the ground and Ed motioned for the others to follow him. He reached down and snatched up McDaniels’ keys and led the laborers to the fence. A few remained, running up to the fallen guard and attempting to rouse him. He noticed nobody went to help Jones.
He lifted the bottom of the fence free from the dirt and gestured for them to roll under. It would be a close fit for him. He was by far the largest out of them all.
After the others went under, he lowered himself to the ground and rolled. A couple of the men lifted the fence from the outside, and the old man pulled on Ed as much as he was able.
Finally, he pulled free.
“Let’s go!” he said and took off at a slow trot toward the trees nearest to them. Due south, that’s what Cam said. This was east. They needed to turn once they got into the woods.
“This way,” he called, more quietly this time.
They followed him without complaint, brushing past the shrubs and limbs of the first trees. They entered the shaded forest and Ed stopped and looked back at the front of the prison. There was a trashed vehicle there.
Cam must have rigged up some kind of bomb and set it off as Ed was shooting the guard.
Ed turned to the south and walked along, allowing the others to keep pace. Not that they needed it, most of them were in a bit better physical shape than he was. Except they hadn’t done much cardio since their capture, so their stamina wasn’t so great.
He smelled the sharp tang of cedar as they approached the large tree. Cam must be around here somewhere.
He heard a slight rustle to his rear, and he turned, causing the group to turn as well. They jumped as Cam seemed to appear from nowhere, his camouflaged face austere and unwelcoming.
He strode forward, rifle in one hand. He stood directly in front of Ed for a moment. The others watched, struck with terror and concern.
Suddenly, Cam grinned and grasped Ed’s shoulder, shaking him a bit in his happiness.
“Ed, it’s good to see you again,” Cam said, showing a very uncommon display of emotion.
“I know it, buddy. Never thought you would. That place is something else, let me tell you.”
“We need to move,” Cam said, then turned to the others. “Follow me and keep up. I don’t expect they’ll send out any more patrols today, but I could be wrong. I’d rather not have to get into a firefight with you all clustered together.”
The old man with the broken arm nodded. The others just stared.
“Here’s what is going to happen. Ed will stay here with one group of older folks. At exactly twelve-thirty, you will use that rifle and start firing toward the prison. Aim for the guards in the towers, or any other guards in sight. The other group of young men will come with me and do the same further down. I will gather you all up when it is time to go.”
Ed looked at the workers. “You heard him, let’s get this done. Remember, don’t shoot McDaniels, he’s on our side.”
Old Broken Arm hefted the rifle and checked the chamber, obviously familiar with the weapon. That was good. Ed grabbed another while turning to Cam.
“Don’t shoot the guard over in the garden, he’s a friendly. I had to knock him out so it didn’t blow his cover, but he should be making his way in pretty soon.”
Cam nodded and took the other group with him into the trees.
Ed got his group situated and ready to fire.
“We are trying to make the warden think there is a small army out here. That way it will keep them from coming out and give us a chance to get away without getting shot or recaptured.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” Broken Arm said.
“What’s your name?” Ed asked him.
“Phillips. Don Phillips, but my friends just call me Trap.”
“Alright, Trap it is. Get ready, we’ve got two minutes before we commence firing.”
Phil grinned in reply.
Cam
Cam led the other two men to the next firing position.
He pulled the M4 from its concealed location and handed it over, letting the two choose among themselves who would be the one to fire it. He watched as the smaller man took it.
“What’s your name?” Cam asked.
“William Tanaka,” the man said.
“Have you ever fired an assault rifle before?”
“Yes,” he said with a slight nod.
“Keep this switch here on SEMI. Burst fires a quick three-round burst. You don’t want to do that. You’ll run through your ammo too fast. Take out any armed targets.”
“You,” Cam said, pointing at the other man.
“William McClaren,” the man supplied.
“Two Williams? Okay Mac, you’ll reload these mags as he empties them.”
“Don’t fire until I do, and then only when you have a target. I’ll be back when it’s time to go.”
Cam took off to the furthest firing position. It was closer to the other side of the prison and had a better angle on the towers. He knelt and assessed the situation. He was going to fire a few rounds from here, then move to a new location.
He dropped his ruck and used it to steady the heavy sniper rifle.
The M107 fires a deafening and devastating .50 caliber round. Fortunately, he had a suppressor for this one which would cut down on the noise a little. He attached it to the front and then pulled the mag from its pouch in his ruck. He had loaded eight rounds in it. It should be plenty.
He sighted in on the guard in the first tower.
He watched as the man spoke
into his radio. The laborers had obviously been spotted escaping across the field. The man looked around, as if expecting an enemy to appear from thin air. He was nervous.
He should be.
He watched as the man raised a rifle and took aim at a point in the tree line, perhaps seeing a target, perhaps not. Cam didn’t wait to find out. He took a deep breath and let it out. At the very end of his breath, he found the stillness in his body. He squeezed the trigger and ended the man’s life.
The man in the other tower finally realized that the mysterious booming shot from the woods had a target, and that the other tower was no longer manned. Through the scope, Cam saw him frantically call in on his radio. He was ducking down and peeking back up, trying to locate the sniper.
Cam waited for a shot.
A side door to the prison opened and a line of black-uniformed guards appeared in the garden. They rounded up the remaining workers and ushered them back in quickly. Cam saw a large man pick up the guard that Ed had knocked out and carry him back in. The door shut and all was still.
The guard in the remaining tower started firing into the trees where the two young men were positioned. Cam sighted in and squeezed the trigger again. The large rifle bucked against his shoulder and the man went down in a spray of pink mist.
Now the towers were empty, and he waited.
Chapter Nine
It’s a Trap
Ed
Ed heard the boom of the .50-caliber sniper rifle and knew that Cam had taken out one of the towers. He had no doubt about Cam’s ability to hit what he was aiming for.
Phil…Trap…was using his broken left arm to steady his rifle. He was laid out in the prone at the edge of the trees. Ed was further back and to the left, standing.
“Ladies, I’ll need you all to keep watch behind us. Make sure nothing sneaks up on us,” Ed said.
He watched and made sure they complied. They said nothing, only turned to face the back.
Ed faced forward and watched the front part of the prison again. He saw the door open into the garden area and a group of guards came out. They took the people back inside. Ed hoped they wouldn’t tell what they knew.
Maybe he should have made them come with him.
He saw McDaniels hoisted up and felt bad about hitting him so hard. He hoped he would be okay. It had needed to look real so they wouldn’t get suspicious of him. It was up to him to tell a good, believable story now, to save his own life.
Ed needed to let Cam know that he promised to come back and take out the warden. Those people didn’t deserve to live a life of confinement and labor. Jax didn’t deserve to run this place.
He heard a spate of rifle fire and watched as the rounds cut through some low-lying limbs. Shit!
That’s where Cam and the others went.
He heard the loud, booming report of the sniper rifle and watched the man in the tower disappear from view. Another one down. They would wait and take out any others who ventured outside of the protective confines of the prison, then they would go home.
He was looking forward to it.
◆◆◆
It was two hours before an attempt was made by the guards to leave the prison.
They had donned riot gear, but Ed knew that would be no defense from a 5.56 round, not to mention Cam’s .50 caliber rifle.
“Okay Trap, you ready?” Ed asked.
“I was born ready, brother,” Trap returned.
“Fire,” Ed said, drawing a bead on one of the sitting ducks.
They fired in unison.
One guard fell and another clutched his arm and stumbled back. The rest scattered in a black flurry of movement. Cam’s rifle roared again and another one went down instantly. Some of the remaining guards had found cover, others hadn’t. Two had run back inside.
Good.
“Looks like we’ll be finished here soon,” Trap said to Ed.
“Maybe. Depends on the warden,” Ed replied.
It did too. The warden could force his guards out into the woods to try and take out the unknown shooters, but that would be stupid. The most likely course of action would be for them to barricade themselves in for a few days.
Ed wondered what Barnes was thinking right about now.
“Do you supposed the warden is pissing his pants right about now?” Trap asked him with a grin.
“I don’t know. What I do know is that he hasn’t ever been challenged before. He won’t take kindly to his little dictatorship being blown all to hell.
“Ah well. I don’t expect your buddy to let him live long. That’s one frosty son of a bitch.”
“You’ve got that right,” Ed said. “Cam’s one of the best men I’ve ever known. He’ll do right by those people in there.”
“Good,” was all Trap said in return.
They sat in silence for a time, but none of the guards stuck their heads out from their cover. He suspected it would be a while longer before any of them got up the nerve to do it. It wasn’t easy for anyone to go willingly into the line of fire, and he suspected these were more cowardly than most.
“Why do they call you Trap?” Ed asked, breaking the stillness of the woods.
“I was in the infantry in ‘Nam. I was put on point more often than most, probably because I was a little unpopular…at first. I developed the ability to detect traps and ambushes more frequently than the others. That gained me some friends, and the legend of Trap was born,” he joked.
“That’s a hell of a way to get a nickname. Who knows? Maybe your superpower will be useful again some time,” Ed said, only partly kidding.
“Maybe.”
“How’d that happen,” Ed asked, nodding at Trap’s arm.
Trap glowered at the memory. “I refused to work one day about five weeks back. I had a hell of a migraine and told them I needed to stay in my bunk. Jones took me out to the common room and made me grab the back of a chair. He had the others watch while he broke my arm with his baton. After that, nobody ever refused to work.”
Ed shook his head and was glad that Jones was dead. He must have been one sick son of a buck to do something like that.
Ed knew those types. He had come into contact with them before all this happened, and again after. They seemed to think this world belonged to them now. Ed wanted to make sure they knew it didn’t.
Cam
It was several hours later when Cam finally saw a target leave cover.
Part of an unsuspecting shoulder was showing around the corner of the outer wall. He aimed carefully and caressed the trigger. The rifle punched his shoulder yet again. He would be a little sore tomorrow for sure.
The shoulder disappeared in a burst of red and he saw the body fall over, exposing the feet. Whoever it was wouldn’t survive long— if they were still alive. He saw the feet slowly moving behind the wall and assumed that a buddy was dragging him to safety.
Now it was back to waiting. Soon, they would be able to leave.
He scanned the windows. He was fairly certain that the leader was watching from a window, looking for him. He hoped to get a shot at him. The question was, which one was he? He didn’t want to take the chance and shoot an innocent man, and Ed wasn’t here to verify his identity.
He sat up for a moment, the hours of lying in the same position had made his back and shoulders stiff. He massaged the aching muscles and resumed his watch. Back in the day, he wouldn’t have had any issues remaining still for many hours at a time, but he wasn’t young anymore. He was rapidly approaching forty-five.
Where the hell had the time gone?
He looked back down the scope and watched the wall again. Thirty minutes later, something happened.
He heard a scream echoing through the stillness of the humid, cloudy day. A man ran away from his cover, clasping his upper arm and panting with the effort of running. Cam caught sight of his pursuer. It was his buddy.
The .50 caliber round had done its job and now the guard was among the living dead.
He couldn�
�t let the guard get into the woods. He concentrated on leading the shot, thankful there was no wind. It wasn’t too far. He had a good chance of hitting his target.
He fired.
The shot echoed, bouncing off the prison and back into the woods.
The running man went down, and his Z friend fell upon his body and feasted. He heard the sharp report of a smaller caliber weapon, and the Zulu fell on top of his meal.
It was time to go. They wouldn’t take a chance on chasing them down now.
He packed his gear, slung his weapons, and went to get Will and Mac. He took off through the woods, watching for any threats in the trees. No dead in sight. He expected that they would start trickling in soon, from all the noise and commotion.
It would help keep them barricaded in a little longer. There couldn’t be too many capable guards left to keep order and take out the wandering dead.
He bumped the ruck further up on his shoulders and concentrated on his steps. Twisting an ankle right now, with seventy plus pounds on his back, would ruin his day. It would ruin his month, for that matter.
He came upon Mac and Will, startling them both. Mac was pale and sweating, clutching the side of his head. Will was attempting to keep him calm.
“What happened?” he asked, quickly dropping his ruck and finding his first aid kit.
He dug through the small pouch and pulled out the package of gloves. He slipped them on and tore open the gauze.
“I got shot. Bullet grazed the side of my head,” Mac answered.
Cam pulled his hand away and blood ran freely down the side of his face and neck. It wasn’t deep, but it would need to be taken care of before they could move. He disinfected the wound and pushed gauze onto it. He then wrapped it tightly with the bandage and taped it. It would do for now.
“Come on,” he said, helping to heft Mac’s weight off the ground.
Tanaka slung the rifle and picked up the ammo bag. Cam adjusted his ruck on his back and made sure Mac was steady enough to travel.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yeah. Fine. Got a headache is all,” Mac answered.
Refuge From The Dead | Book 3 | Dead Fall Page 10
