by Connor Mccoy
Yeah, that makes sense. I bet Sorenson dressed her up.
More women filed out, but none looking as ravishing as the lady in red. They were mostly disheveled, with open shirts revealing smaller undershirts underneath, likely to cool themselves off in a building that had no air conditioning. They varied in age from women who looked uncomfortably young—Tom thought a teenager or two could be in that procession—to women in their thirties, forties, or maybe middle age. They looked reasonably healthy, with none of them appearing emaciated, malnourished, or injured. None of them hobbled or limped.
Makes sense if Maggiano wanted them in prime condition for his brothel, Tom thought. Speaking of which, where the hell is Maggiano? He ought to be coming out of there, unless he’s leaving on Conrad’s side. Damn, there’s no way Conrad will see this.
Sweat poured down his face. He wanted to save Sarah. But what about these other women? Could he save all them, too? How many were down there? Eight? Nine?
No, there were ten now. Tom’s heat sank when he watched the tenth woman emerge into the open sun.
“Sarah,” he whispered.
No mistaking it. Her gray hair, her trim frame, it all gave her away. Her clothes were different from when she was abducted, but they were plain, beige khaki pants and a gray shirt. She didn’t seem injured, but from this distance it was hard to tell. The particulars of her condition would have to wait. She was alive. That’s all that mattered.
I must get her out of there. But there’s too many men down there with guns. If he picked off just one of them, the rest would return fire. They may even gun down the women out of revenge.
Dammit, Conrad, why couldn’t you be here instead of me?
Chapter Eight
Conrad didn’t hesitate for another second. Now! he thought. He raced toward the door and flung it open. He waited just a second to peek inside. No shouts. Nobody noticed the door opening. Nobody rushed to stop him.
Then he ducked inside. A din of smoke hung over the warehouse interior. Thanks to a few boxes on the ground, Conrad found some easy cover. The building rose several stories, with the wall to the right lined with scaffolding that held a few boxes. Some of the boxes were open, allowing Conrad to spot packed food and guns inside. Not all of the spaces were occupied. Some of them lay empty.
The center and left side of the warehouse, however, were taken up by a wooden structure about a story high. It looked like a large wooden rectangle in the middle of the warehouse, and judging by how new the lumber looked, it seemed to have been built recently. The structure was far too small to house anything big. These must be the barracks Tom had told him about.
Looking up, Conrad got a look at the damage from the propane explosion. The blast had blown a hole in the wall above and rained down debris on the back end of the barracks. There was enough metal to completely crumple two of the rooms. Conrad winced. He was sure there had to have been men inside, likely crushed to death before they knew what had hit them. Smoke and dust also covered up the view of the offices, but judging by how close they were to the gas tanks, they must have sustained heavy damage.
The iron door to the barracks was wide open. Conrad hurried toward the wall to his right. This wall wouldn’t be next to the explosion site and thus wouldn’t be hot from the burning fire. At the same time, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, then covered his mouth and nose with it. This would help block out the smoke that poured from the open wound in the wall.
It’ll be hell trying to stay quiet if I start hacking, he thought.
A man then ran out of the barracks. He was panting, his eyes wide with fright. He headed to the open door Conrad had come out of. He had a holster on his belt with a handgun inside. He wasn’t scrambling to man the outside. He was running scared.
Maybe if some of them panic and flee, that’ll cut down on men guarding Sarah, Conrad thought.
As he crept alongside the wall, he spotted the second set of barracks just a few feet away, possibly the area where the women were kept. A corridor ran right between the men’s barracks and the women’s barracks. No one was coming from that direction. Conrad hurried into the hall.
No sounds were coming from the women’s quarters. Slowing his pace, Conrad strode close to the wall to listen for anything: cries, shouts, talking, or even the movement of feet.
Finally, Conrad dared to knock on the wooden wall. Nothing. He knocked again. Still nothing.
They must have moved out the women already. Damn.
Conrad sped up until he reached the other side of the hall. He had emerged on the other side of the two barracks and was back out in the open area of the warehouse. This sector of the building was much quieter. There were lines of freezers, likely used for preserving food for the Maggiano line of restaurants, scaffolding for the hosting of crates and boxes, and a forklift sitting near a closed overhead door.
Conrad almost started off into the open storage area when he decided to look back at the barracks. Each had an entrance into this part of the warehouse that was wide open. Conrad quickly ran to the door of the women’s barracks and peered inside.
There was nothing but a small hall and open doors. Still as a tomb, Conrad thought. Still, he ran in and did a quick check of the rooms, just to be sure.
Satisfied that the barracks were empty, he dashed back out to the open storage area. Then the radio on his belt buzzed.
“Tom!” Conrad said as he pulled the radio off. “Damn, I hope he spotted Sarah.” He switched it on. “Tom, do you read?”
“Conrad!” The voice coming over was a harsh, frantic whisper. “Conrad, you there?”
“Calm down! Just talk to me,” Conrad called back.
“I see her! I see her!” Tom repeated over and over again.
“Sarah?” Conrad spoke.
“Yeah, it’s her. Dammit, it’s her. There’s nine more women out here. But there’s three men with rifles. I-I can’t get a clear shot, and if I shoot they might turn on me…”
“Calm yourself! It’s enough you got eyes on her. Look, we’re in a position of power here. I think the explosion took some of their boys out, and they’re a little disorganized. Have they started searching for us?”
“I don’t see anything but what I just told you,” Tom replied.
“Alright. Sit tight. I’m coming your way. I’ll check in in a couple of minutes.”
“Right. Um, ten-four,” Tom replied.
Conrad put his radio back on his belt. At last! Sarah was within reach.
Maggiano moaned. He tried to draw in breath, but horrible pressure gripped his lungs like a vice. He tried to move his legs, but felt nothing but a huge weight on them, along with intense pain. He knew his legs had been crushed, and that debris had pinned them down. He blinked his eyes, seeing nothing but a light blur and smoke. He heard nothing. The explosion had shattered his eardrums.
“He…help!” It was sheer agony trying to speak. He tried again, only to cough loud and hard. Blood then dribbled down his chin. Blood and fluid was gathering in his lungs.
He was dying.
Dammit! This can’t be how it ends! Somebody get your ass down here and help me! Maggiano’s mind screamed a strain of vile curses that never would escape the confines of his own mind.
Just then, a shadow passed over him. The shape was indistinct, but Maggiano was certain a man just had passed by him, perhaps climbing over the debris that pinned him down to the floor.
Maggiano spoke quickly, fearing his chance for rescue was fading fast. “Hel…help…” But the shadow didn’t stop. Maggiano was being left for dead. None of his men would show up to deliver him from his fate.
He coughed again. Now his throat was being stopped up by fluids and blood. It was a struggle for him to breathe at all.
It was unthinkable that he would die this way. Who did it? Who was the son of a bitch who bombed his warehouse? Did the state’s National Guard come in and retake the city? Perhaps the army had shown up to impose martial law.
His right arm twitched. He raised it. Yes, he still had feeling in it. He reached out, trying to grab something, anything, to pull it away to free himself.
I’m king, Maggiano thought. I’m king…
And then his arm fell limp. Marcellus Maggiano had breathed his last.
Tom put his radio back on his belt. Now all he could do was wait for Conrad to tell him what to do.
It was hard to tell from this distance exactly what was going on. The women were just standing around, but Tom couldn’t tell their mental and physical states from here. Were they active? Lethargic? Maybe drugged? If they were alert, maybe they could make a run for it if the armed men around them were taken out?
I won’t know unless I get closer, Tom thought.
Several vehicles, chain-link fences, and light posts lay between him and the warehouse. He plausibly could close in and take cover without being noticed. None of the men were looking his way. Besides, Conrad might want him to take action, so Tom should be closer to the warehouse.
Tom crept out from his spot. He hurried past a chain-link fence, trying to keep his footsteps as soft as possible, even if it seemed ludicrous that the men could hear him from this distance. Besides, he still didn’t know if someone was lurking closer by. Better not to take chances.
Now he reached a large semi-truck. Tom slid along the driver’s side until he could look around the truck’s hood. He could see the faces of the women much more easily. Looking at them tied a knot in his stomach. They seemed lost, confused, and docile. They didn’t turn their heads or look around for an opportunity to escape. Their clothing ranged from dirty to relatively clean, but plain, except for that woman in the red dress.
Tom crept out a little more into the open. Jack Sorenson was next to the woman in red. In fact, he never had left her side, as far as Tom could remember. He held the woman’s arm while speaking to her. Tom still couldn’t hear him clearly, but Jack’s mannerisms and smile reminded Tom of how Jack had flirted with the ladies at a party he attended last year. Jack could practically glide about a room and charm any woman who was remotely available. Of course, Tom also had read online some disquieting rumors about Jack’s activities with women. Jack was the kind of guy who looked pleasant on the outside, but was a snake on the inside.
Some things don’t change, even when the world ends, Tom thought. But the woman in red wasn’t who he wanted to check on. Sarah. Where the hell was she?
He inched out a little farther. He had lost track of Sarah since he had closed in on the warehouse. His legs shook the more he stepped away from his cover. He had to find her, no matter the risk.
Then, a woman with short gray hair turned around. Sarah finally stepped into Tom’s line of sight.
Sarah was a woman who could jump out of bed at the break of dawn. Not here. She looked tired, her gaze down to the concrete. Her arms were clasped around her chest. Her lips were slightly open. She wasn’t doing anything but waiting, as if she had no expectation she would be delivered from her fate. Most of the women, Tom could see, had similar looks on their faces.
Tom’s skin started to burn. He was the man who put Sarah in this horrid position. God knows what these men had done to her. He wanted to rush out there right now and save her.
Control yourself, Tom thought. You’ll be picked off in a cold minute.
He returned to the side of the truck and crouched down. “C’mon Conrad,” he whispered, “You got to take charge of this damn thing.” If not, I might do something real stupid.
Some of the freezer doors gaped open as Conrad jogged past. This whole place is a monument to a lost era, he thought. These freezers and refrigerators would cold-store food bound for groceries and restaurants. Cold food was one of the great breakthroughs of the modern age. It made food so convenient in modern societies that unless you were completely destitute, you didn’t have to fear going hungry. Sadly, that no longer would be the case. This warehouse never would be put back to its original use without a massive rebuilding of society, and God only knew when that would be.
Conrad approached the back wall of the warehouse. But then they had to go and turn this place into a prison camp, he added to himself. The sight of more weapons inside some of the crates reinforced that brutal reality. The anger over that injustice helped quell his fears. Coming here had been initially terrifying, but he took comfort in the fact that at least he could fight back. The women being held here had no chance of fighting back on their own.
I’m surprised this place isn’t more stocked with guns, Conrad thought. Then he glanced behind him and noted the barracks ended almost in the middle of this vast facility. Maybe he figures on expanding his lineup of prisoners. Save some space for more captives.
His right hand burned a little. Conrad thought his working man’s hand was acting up again, but as he turned around he found he was in the path of sunlight from an open doorway.
Quickly, Conrad ducked into the shadows of the scaffolding. That was the door Tom had eyes on. The women must have been filed out through there. He couldn’t afford to be exposed to the outside until he got a good look at who was standing outside, and what he could expect if he charged through the exit.
Just then, he heard the creaking of a door. Conrad ducked into the shadow of an overhang. Then he turned back in the direction from which he had come.
Somebody had pushed the door to the men’s barracks all the way open. A lone male just had come out. In the shadows of the scaffolds it was hard to see what he looked like.
Conrad pulled out his gun, then remained still. He had done his share of reading up on how to move with stealth, how to find places to hide and blend in as much as possible. At first it seemed like magic to him, stuff that you would see in ninja movies. But now that he was in such a situation, he appreciated learning about those tactics. He feared that someday he’d have to ward off thieves and bandits when society broke down. He didn’t imagine he’d need those skills on a rescue mission.
The newcomer shuffled out into the open space of the warehouse. He approached Conrad’s position, but not too quickly. He seemed hurt.
As he got closer to the open doorway, the pouring sunlight illuminated his features. He was bare-chested and wearing a fancy pair of pants that now was covered in dust. It brought back memories of Conrad’s time in the city. He’d see executives wearing fine dress pants such as those, although they were naturally part of a business suit. He wondered if this man was one of the big shots who allied with Maggiano. He sure wasn’t the man who Conrad spotted with the two men cooking the fish earlier.
Marco Valentino. I think that’s one of the other men Tom described, Conrad thought. The idea that this man might be Marco filled Conrad with both anger and dread. This could be the man who kidnapped Sarah!
Chapter Nine
Camilla brought in fresh drinks, lemon-based carbonated soda that she had preserved since the EMP. It was stuff from cans she had stored away. She said she would save that stuff for a special occasion, and meeting Conrad’s son and his lover certainly fit that bill.
She looked at Carla and Liam. The pair just recently had returned to their seats. “I apologize if I took your room,” she said with a chuckle. “It’s alright. If you prefer it, Conrad’s got other rooms in this house.”
Liam slid his seat farther under the table. “It’s fine. Carla and I just had to get our stuff unpacked.”
“God, I need a bath.” Carla rubbed her face. “Sorry, I’m still not used to the outdoors. I loved playing outside when I was a kid, but that was a while ago.” She chuckled.
“Well, I won’t keep you long. I’m sure you two want to seriously settle in. But…” Camilla slid two glasses of soda in their direction. “A little something special.”
“I wasn’t sure I’d ever have this again!” Carla guzzled down the drink greedily.
“Yeah, we certainly appreciate everything we have now,” Camilla said with a smile. “So, what’s the story with Conrad sending you back here? You still need to tell me
that before you take your bath.”
Liam and Carla filled in Camilla on why Conrad had sent them back. Camilla’s expression brightened up when she heard the truth.
“Really? So, Conrad’s going to be a granddad!” She threw her head back and laughed. “Lord, I can’t wait to get on him about that.”
“Yeah. He was pretty adamant that we had to come back here,” Liam said.
“Well, that explains everything,” Camilla said. “I figured his boy would hook up with some pretty lady. You’ve inherited his looks.”
Liam coughed while Carla giggled. “Guess so,” he said.
By now it was clear to Liam that Camilla truly possessed feelings for his dad. Before he showed up here with Carla a few days ago, he feared his father was a complete loner, shut up in a house off the side of the road with nobody to care for him, not a lover or even a friend. But as it turned out, his dad had met someone who cared for him. Knowing that fact lifted his spirits.
“We gotta keep a close eye on you two.” Camilla looked at Carla and raised her eyebrows, “You’re making the next generation of survivors, probably even the people who will run this country.”
Carla laughed. “Yeah, looks like it.”
“First one for you two?” Camilla asked.
“Yeah.” Carla replied.
“Then your baby will be the smart one.” Camilla chuckled. “First child’s always got the best head on its shoulders. I’m the third one in my family, so I guess that explains me.” She laughed. “Yeah, it’s all up to you. I think my oven’s burned out.” She patted her thighs.
“Do you have any kids?” Carla asked.
