by Hunt, Jack
“I knew it. Travis wouldn’t have hurt his grandparents. He sure as hell wouldn’t have had the nerve to kill himself.” Liam stumbled back a little coming to grips with the news. Garcia took over.
“So the supplies?” Garcia asked.
“Jethro has them. All of them.”
“And where is this guy?”
“No idea, and you don’t want to get close to that. He’s bad news.”
“What about Tate?” Liam asked with a look of rage.
“He um… he was waiting outside my house. I went in to grab some smokes and as I came out, I saw some Latino guys talking to him. The next moment they grabbed him and threw him in the back of a black sedan and tore away.”
“Latino?”
“Yeah, one had a tattoo on his chest. Eighteen in Roman numerals.”
Garcia looked at Liam. “18th Street. What did they want with him?” Garcia asked.
“I didn’t hear the conversation.”
Garcia got off Joe but kept a firm grip on him as he rose. “You better not be lying.”
“I’m not. Anything Travis told you that wasn’t true was because he looked up to you, Liam. That’s all. He didn’t want you to think less of him.”
Garcia paced, his handgun out, eyes roaming the street. “We need to get back to the cabin and fast.”
23
As night swallowed the ranch of El Dorado, Alex was no closer to finding Meadow. Star told him that her closet was empty, her belongings gone, and no note had been left behind. No one had seen her leave which to him was suspicious. He’d seen the fear in her eyes. If she had planned on leaving without them, why ask for a ride out? If she could have left, why hadn’t she done so sooner?
Well, that evening he planned on finding out the truth.
After the rest of the followers headed to the communal area to listen to Abner give another one of his life-altering speeches, he made a beeline for his room.
Outside, it was nearly pitch dark, barely a star in sight. Alex eased himself over the balcony and carefully set his foot on a ledge that would take him across to a thick black drainpipe. A quick shuffle, a fast descent and he was soon on the ground, taking cover behind a large collection of rocks and tall grass. He darted across the hilly landscape, hidden by the night. Dashing toward the barn, he circled the lake, staying in the shadows to avoid being seen under the moon’s light.
The barn was forty feet high by around a hundred and fifty feet in length, a deep red with a white door at the front, and brown shingles. In and out of trees, he crossed over a hill and pitched sideways down a slope as he drew closer. He dropped behind a collection of boulders and squinted at the sight of a guard coming out of the barn with an AR-15 slung over his shoulder. Guns not allowed? Yeah, right. The guard lit a cigarette, it glowed brightly. Alex waited then made his way down after the man was out of sight. Just about to dart out of the maze of undulating bushes, the guard returned and looked his way.
Alex dropped and held his breath at the sound of boots approaching.
Quickly, he took out a knife and prepared for the worst.
The footsteps stopped a few feet away. He peered through brambles and underbrush and could see the guard looking around. The guy turned away from Alex, so he got up and followed, staying low, keeping out of sight. He darted behind a tree as the guard looked over his shoulder. A moment of panic before the guard sucked on his cigarette and continued walking up a path toward the mansion.
Reaching the barn, Alex tugged at the handle.
It was locked. He’d seen it open earlier.
He went around the barn and made his way along, hoping to find another way in. That’s when two chained pit bulls darted out barking at him. They got within inches but were held back by the thick chains. Alex moved fast hearing someone approach. Taking cover in a grove of nearby trees, he waited as another guard came into view and stopped by the dogs. The guard surveyed the area. What were they protecting? And why the lies?
The guard moved on and he sprinted out, making his way to the far end. He was about to approach the door when another guard came out of the barn. He pulled back and held his breath as footsteps got closer. He would have run back the other way but the dogs were there and the chances of making it to the tree line before the guard came around were slim. Sliding the knife back into his jacket, he opted for a different approach.
The short man came around but before he could register, Alex grabbed him and lifted him off the ground, hanging him in midair in a sleeper chokehold. In a matter of seconds his body went limp. Alex dragged him out of sight then went on, this time entering the barn.
A diesel generator churned nearby. A small strip of yellow light lit up the interior. There were two levels. On the lower floor there were horse pens that stretched from one end to the other. Coarse tails whipped around in a couple, and a few horses looked out. Loose hay covered the floor. Staying in the shadows he made his way along peering into each stall. Everything looked normal. He lifted his eyes and saw lots of haystacks on the upper level.
Voices caught his attention, Alex ducked into one of the stalls. The horse looked at him. He stayed low. Between the planks of wood he observed two men exit. Where did they come from? He slipped out and made his way to the far end. The door was locked. He climbed a ladder to the second level but there was nothing but hay. As he was crouching and trying to make sense of it, the voices returned, this time the two men walked back in and went to the far end and entered a stall. Out of sight, he expected them to emerge but they didn’t. Alex made his way down and when he entered the stall, there was no one there.
What the hell?
A gust of air created movement on the floor. He crouched and placed his hand against the wood. That’s when he saw it. The hay moved ever so slightly, and a faint glimmer of light emanated from a crack. Alex ran his hand around and found a handle. He pulled it and his face was instantly bathed in a warm glow. A metal staircase led down to a steel enclosure. He glanced over his shoulder one last time before venturing down.
24
As the cruiser careened around a bend, the tires barely remained on the ground. In the distance they could see thick smoke and fire flickering between the trees.
Across the water, an orange glow arched over the property. Initially when they saw the smoke they thought someone had set the surrounding forest ablaze. Since the power had gone out, residents were using fire pits in their yards so it was possible one of them had got out of control but its location to the cabin and news of the 18th Street gang in Willits made them think otherwise.
“Be ready,” Garcia said.
They had no idea how many there were.
For all they knew there could be ten, twenty, fifty.
An ever-present sense of impending doom hung over them.
Garcia gunned the engine and it growled loudly as they veered around the lake on Primrose Drive. Joe was in the back sandwiched between Liam and Elisha. He hadn’t stopped complaining since they bundled him inside.
By the time they made it onto Lilac Drive the tension in the car could have been cut with a knife. Two hundred yards from the property, Garcia swerved, cutting off the road, and hopped out. He went around to the trunk and pulled out his Bushmaster M4. He donned a bulletproof vest and had this steely look in his eyes, the kind that was seen in every cop when they were running into chaos while others ran the other way.
“Elisha, stay here. If we don’t return or you see any gang member you take this vehicle and get as far away as possible.”
“Really? So teaching me how to shoot a gun was for nothing? One arm or not, I’ll be damned if I’m staying here babysitting this asshole,” she said glancing at Joe then taking out a handgun from her holster.
“You sound like your mother,” he replied. “Okay, but please, stay back. And I mean it. If this gets…”
Rounds erupted, a torrential onslaught of gunfire was deafening. All of them ducked thinking they were under fire but it wasn’t directed at them. It
was coming from the property. “Liam. Follow my lead, okay?”
“You bet.”
“What about him?” Elisha asked.
“Let me help,” Joe said. “Cut me loose and give me a gun.”
“Fuck that! After all that’s happened?” Liam said. “You’re lucky I haven’t shot you.”
“Liam. It was Tate not me.”
“Yeah, maybe, but for now you can stay put.” Garcia pushed him back into the vehicle and locked the doors.
Joe yelled on the other side of the window, his voice muted. “C’mon man! Let me out. I can help.”
As they ran at a crouch toward the cabin, they could hear Joe kicking the window.
“Can he get out?”
“No. Trust me, that cruiser has taken one hell of a beating. It’s not the first time someone has tried to kick their way out.”
Moving through the surrounding forest, Elisha stumbled over roots. Branches raked her skin. Flickering flames licked up into the night sky while others crept up the side of the cabin.
Armed silhouettes darted in and out of trees.
They stopped thirty yards away and could see numerous bodies on the ground. How many? Four, six, maybe eight.
Muzzle flashes lit up the night.
“Andre,” Garcia said under his breath, a smile flickering. Garcia lifted his rifle and began to engage, releasing a burst of rounds. Silhouettes crumpled. Everything seemed to slow at that moment. The air filled with the sounds of gunfire, yelling and rounds chewing up the earth and tree bark. Liam went right as Garcia darted left, leaving her in the middle, crouched behind a tree gripping a Glock 19. Frozen by panic, her hands were trembling. Garcia’s words came back, his instructions as clear as day.
Where she found the courage to lift that gun at that moment was unknown. Maybe it was the fear of getting shot or the worry that the ones who’d kept her alive so far could die in these gloomy woods. Either way, she twisted, brought up the gun and saw one of the thugs dart across. She squeezed the trigger. A flash. The target kept moving but now changed direction heading her way. Panic rose in her chest, her eyes bouncing between Liam and Garcia. Even if she cried out, they wouldn’t hear her over the chorus of gunfire.
Faced with certain death, she fired again, and again. Each time missing because the strapping fella kept zigzagging. C’mon. C’mon. As she leaned forward to take another shot, her St. Christopher dangled from her neck. She touched it for a second before resuming her grip.
God help me.
This time she took a deep breath and forced herself to relax with a few more deep breaths. The hulking figure darted out, this time firing rounds at her and getting closer.
Any second now and he’d be upon her.
She pulled back, fear now gripping her at the snap of bullets.
Rage soon replaced panic. On her knees, she leaned back and changed position, turning sideways. Whether it was luck, fate or St. Christopher watching over her, she squeezed the trigger, once, twice, four times.
The guy’s legs buckled and he went face-first into the ground only twenty feet from her. She didn’t wait to see whether he was still alive. Elisha bounced up, darted over and fired another round into him before moving into another position and continuing to provide cover to both Liam and Garcia.
The fight continued for what felt like half an hour but was probably no more than fifteen minutes. Eventually the noise ceased, and the remaining gang members pulled back behind the safety of their sedans.
“Andre,” Garcia yelled
“I’m here, brother.”
“You okay?”
“I’m hit.”
Over the noise of a few more rounds, another voice called out.
“Officer Garcia. If you want your friends to live, come with us.”
“Who are you?”
“I think you know.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Then you will die out here with the rest of them.”
“Seems like you’ve lost your fair share. How about we call it a day?”
He heard laughter. “How about you stop being a bitch and come with us or do you want their blood on your hands?”
Garcia couldn’t clearly see any faces. It was too dark. The only light came from the moon but that was partially hidden by the canopy of leaves. If he could just figure out how many were still alive.
“How many, Andre?”
“There were roughly fifteen by my headcount. I took out at least six of them.”
Garcia moved as another explosion of gunfire took hold, lighting up the forest, each muzzle flashing on and off like fireflies. “C’mon homie, come with us and it all ends now,” the voice cried out again.
He kept moving, nothing more than a dark figure strafing through the trees. This time though he tried to get around the cabin so he could get a better look.
As he rounded a tree he nearly fell over a dead body on the ground. He reached down and scooped up a handgun, then continued on. Every so often he saw a head peek out from behind the sedans.
Then, just as he was getting closer, two of the vehicles started up and headlights were turned on, sending a burst of bright light through the trees revealing his location. Before he had a chance to react, two rounds exploded and he was struck in the chest sending him down.
25
A huge underground bunker existed below the barn. Abner wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth. Why? What was he hiding? What was this place being used for? Alex navigated a steel catwalk that wrapped around a storage area reserved for thousands of canned goods, barrels of water, medical supplies and animal feed. He worked his way down a second ladder and quickly ducked behind stacks of boxes as two followers packing AR-15s strolled by. For someone who was adamant about having them turn over their weapons, Abner certainly had a double standard.
When he no longer could hear footsteps, he peered into the maze of corridors. A lot of work had gone into creating it. It was akin to what he imagined a small version of Cheyenne Mountain was like. The vast arched network of tunnels was illuminated every few feet by overhead fluorescent lights. The tunnel was wide enough that two golf carts could have passed each other while providing plenty of room for those on foot.
Alex darted out and kept his back to the wall as he went in the opposite direction of the men. He didn’t have to travel far to find the first area of interest. As he rounded a bend he had to pull back as he nearly walked into an open area with ten or more people. Alex looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming. He couldn’t remain there as he was exposed, out in the open. Peering around the bend he noticed a host of bright computer screens and Abner’s followers. On a large overhead screen there was an aerial view of Denver and it was split up into segments.
Most of it was seen through the green hue of night vision.
Alex squinted as he leaned forward trying to make sense of it. Of course Abner was involved but to what extent? It was nighttime and if Star was telling the truth, no drones would have been in operation. But from what he could see that wasn’t true. Playing out on different screens were moving images, FLIR showing areas of orange heat throughout the city below. Were they mapping and selecting targets? Did it take all of them involved to control those drones or just one? Were they part of a hacking network, a terrorist organization that was in charge of the second wave of attacks? Or was this even more nefarious?
Heavy footsteps put him on alert. His eyes darted, searching for anywhere to hide, but he was caught in a tight spot. Back along the tunnel there had been multiple doors but he figured they led into offices or bunks for staff.
He had no choice. Alex raced back expecting at any moment to see one or more of Abner’s followers. He reached for the first door and pushed it open. Expecting to see someone inside, he was stunned to find himself in another storage area full of metal crates full of weapons. He crouched down and looked at the words on the side. It was from the U.S. military. Had someone higher up in the gov
ernment provided them with this? Or were these smuggled in after being sold to Iran by the U.S.? He remembered reading about the U.S. selling arms to Iran. It would be crazy if the country they had sold to attacked them with their own weapons. He unbuckled the latches and looked inside. Inserted into foam cushioning were rocket launchers. Case after case, his eyes feasted on a wide array of weapons: M4s, AR-15s, machine guns, grenades, landmines and what appeared to be small missiles. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill collection used for anything less than fighting a war.
The handle turned and Alex bounced back.
“Yeah, I’ve got to bring a case up. I’ll get to that after.”
Standing behind the door, his heart caught in his throat. Alex waited for the guy to walk in. As soon as the door swung closed, he pounced, grabbing the guy around the neck and choking him out. Once the guy was unconscious, he fished through his pockets looking for anything of use. It was then he found a card, the kind used by hotels. What did this unlock? The guy wouldn’t be out long. Alex relieved him of his Beretta and magazines and pocketed them, then grabbed up a rifle and made sure it was loaded before he cracked the door open and looked out.
A golf cart shot by with two men inside.
As soon as they were out of sight he burst out and hurried in the opposite direction, this time going where the first two guys he’d seen went. Mentally he kept a note of the turns he took out of fear of getting lost in the winding passages.
Making it about two hundred yards down a long tunnel, he came upon an area with multiple doors, all of which had slots for a card. Alex fished into his pocket and was about to try it when he looked up and saw a camera pivoting. Shit.
He pressed his back to the wall.
That had been the first one he’d seen. Why did they need them here?
Against the tiled wall, he waited for it to turn away before hurrying out.
Each door had no window. It was just steel with a handle and a card lock. A small red light above the handle was solid. He slid the card through the reader and heard it unlock. He pushed it open and his eyes widened.
