“What about us?” Ashley asked. “Will we have something to do?”
“You older guys, of course. The facility was expected to run with a staff of over 100. Everyone will have to pull their weight.”
Ashley nodded.
“Any other questions?” Max asked. “I know it’s a lot to take in. If you think of something later or you have any issues, please speak up. We’re all winging this, but we need some type of order.”
Max waited a few minutes, looking around the room as a sea of blank stares glared back at him. He held his hands up and smiled. “Okay then, that was it. Work starts tomorrow.”
Everyone slowly started to leave. Like a herd of cows, they walked into the hall and made their way to wherever they’d been earlier. Randall and his family made a break for their room, avoiding conversation with anyone else.
“Did you see how he was looking?” Randall asked as soon as they closed the door to their room. “That stupid grin on his face the entire time.”
Melinda groaned.
“For what it’s worth, I believe you, Dad. “I think Koran is up to something.”
“See,” Randall said elated. “Someone else around here has their eyes open.”
“Seriously, I never trusted him. I know he saved our lives and all, but he seems like he’s always up to something.”
“See what you’ve done, Randall. You’ve even got your son with all this conspiracy talk.”
“It’s not a conspiracy if it’s true,” Alistair jabbed.
“Mom, when can we go home?” David asked.
“Yeah…we wanna go back home,” Charlie added.
Melinda looked to Randall and frowned. He lowered his head, avoiding her gaze and the question he knew his kids would ask.
“This is our home now,” Melinda said.
Randall stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her on the forehead then whispered into her ear before turning toward the kids.
“We’re gonna live here for a while,” he said and knelt next to them.
“Why?” David asked.
“You know all that stuff you saw, the storms and things? You remember that?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, here…here we’ll be safe.”
“We were safe at home,” Charlie said.
“No. No, we weren’t. It’s not safe there buddy and we can’t go back. We’re gonna stay here until things get better.”
“Can we at least get an Xbox?”
Randall laughed. “I don’t think so, but I’ll see what I can do.”
David and Charlie smiled then hugged Randall around the neck. He hugged them back then stood up and turned back to Melinda.
“I’m gonna do it,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Confront Koran.”
“We already talked about this, Randall.”
“You talked about it.”
Squeezing her firsts, Melinda closed her eyes and took a minute to compose herself. “Look Randall, we can’t afford you to go do something stupid,” she said. “We need you here with us, not playing detective.”
“I’m not playing detective, babe. Keeping this place safe is up to all of us. I’m just gonna go talk to him. I won’t accuse him of anything, I won’t even bring it up.”
“Then what’s the point of even bothering the man? Please Randall, let Craig handle this.”
“You don’t understand. Craig wants proof. That proof might be when Koran’s army pulls up and kills every person here. I was there, Melinda. You didn’t see what they did. They won’t care that there are kids here, they’ll kill everyone. You want to leave our kids safety up to a maybe?”
“Fine, Randall, fine! Go…go talk to him if that makes you feel better.”
“It’s not that, Melinda.”
“Then what is it, Randall?”
“Jesus. I’m trying my best here. All I care about is protecting this family. You’re right, I’m not a detective. I’m not some special operations guy or commando. But where were those guys when all this shit started? Where were they when we needed them? I’ve gotta be able to protect us. This family, this is the only thing we can count on.”
Melinda didn’t say anything for a long time. She stepped back and took a seat on the couch, pouring her face into her hands.
“I understand, Randall,” she whispered. “Do what you have to do and hurry back.”
Randall kissed her on the forehead. “I love you,” he said.
She repeated it back to him then he opened the door and walked out into the hall. Koran’s room was across the atrium near the elevators. Randall quickly made his way across the open space and down the next set of corridors.
The halls were empty, but that wasn’t a surprise. The facility was huge and with so many rooms and so many levels it was easy to feel like you were abandoned.
Randall stopped outside of Koran’s room and stared at the door. He considered what he’d say to him and how to get him talking without making him suspicious. He stood there as minutes ticked by, playing scenarios out in his head.
As he rolled his fingers into a fist he heard a voice coming from inside of Koran’s room. He paused then pressed his ear against the door and held his breath.
“Hello…hello? This is agent Meyers…do you read?” Koran grumbled.
“Holy shit,” Randall gasped under his breath.
Shaking, he reached out and twisted the door knob. The thin wooden door slowly crept open and Randall leaned his head inside.
Koran was around the corner, just out of sight, unaware of the intruder that had invaded his home. Fighting nerves, Randall took a step inside then gently pushed the door closed. He silently sucked in a lungful of air and slowly moved deeper into the room.
“I repeat, this is Meyers. I have the location of the Mayflower. Command respond,” Koran said again.
A surge of anger shot through Randall’s limbs like he’d been electrocuted. He clenched his teeth and stormed around the corner, his footsteps booming through the apartment like a timpani drum.
He cleared the corner and found Koran hunched over, fumbling with a satellite phone. His back was turned, and he was so consumed with what he was doing that he didn’t even notice Randall standing across from him.
Without breaking stride, Randall grabbed a lamp from the table and charged at Koran. He brought it over his head and let out a furious roar as he lunged across the room.
Koran turned at the last moment, barely evading Randall. The lamp crashed into the floor as they collided. Koran’s satellite phone sailed from his hands and flew into the wall then tumbled across the room.
“What the hell, Randall?” Koran griped as he scrambled to his feet.
Randall scuttled across the floor and grabbed the phone then wheeled around. “It was you!” he shouted. “It was you the whole time.”
“Randall calm down. Just, just give me the phone back. You don’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand. You’re working with the Russians.”
“Goddamn it, Randall! You give me that fucking phone or I swear to God!
Randall scowled then smashed the phone into the floor and stomped on it. Bits of plastic shards exploded across the room and the blinking power light faded. Koran looked on in shock, his face morphing from awe to complete rage.
“Randall!” Koran growled.
Fuming, he dove and tackled Randall. They crashed into the coffee table, breaking it into splinters, then hit the floor with a thud.
Koran landed on top and immediately started wailing on Randall, beating him with his fists like a crazed silverback. Randall did his best to protect himself, tucking his head and shielding his face with his arms.
“I’m gonna kill you!” Koran shouted.
Scrambling, Randall kicked and wiggled, throwing Koran off balance. He slipped from underneath him and jumped to his feet. Before Koran could react, Randall made a break for the door, but he wasn’t fast enough.
Koran grabb
ed a piece of the broken lamp and hurdled it across the room. The fragmented base hit Randall in the back of the head with a dull thump. Randall collapsed and slammed into the ground face first, sliding across the floor in a lifeless heap.
CHAPTER 16
END OF THE LINE
Randall opened his eyes to a smear of colors and garbled noises. His head drowned in pain, every nerve burning like an incendiary.
“Randall,” Melinda called out to him.
Groaning, Randall brought his hand to the back of his head. His hair was clumped together with thick globs of blood. It was sore to the touch and he could feel a nasty gash running across his scalp.
He tried to remember where he was and how he’d got there, but his mind was a clutter of confusion and vertigo. His brain beat like a heart inside of his skull, the echoing thud a metronome of misery.
With a whimpering grimace, Randall reached up and latched onto someone’s arm to steady himself. He clambered to his feet and wobbled as his vision slowly cleared and he tried to make out the faces glaring back at him.
Alistair wrapped his other arm around Randall’s waist and took some of the weight off his legs. Melinda placed her hands on the sides of his face and leaned forward.
“Randall, Randall are you okay?” she asked softly.
Randall took a deep breath and collected himself. He glanced around the room and realized he was still in Koran’s room. Memories of his struggle flooded his mind and his heart revved like an engine.
“Koran!” he shouted. “We’ve gotta find Koran!”
“What?” Alistair asked. “Dad, nobody is here. You’re safe.”
Frustrated, Randall turned to Melinda. “It was him! It was him!”
Swallowing his pain, Randall pulled himself away from their grasp. He stumbled to the door then fell into the hallway.
“Randall!” Melinda screeched.
She grabbed his arm as Alistair helped her pull him to his feet. His eyes were wild, and blood ran down the back of his neck in a slow river. But he had a look of resolution on his face and enough adrenaline coursing through his veins to fuel a train.
“Randall, stop! You’re hurt,” Melinda cried out and tried to restrain him.
“Don’t you understand?” he slurred. “Koran is the mole…he can’t get away.” He careened into the wall then continued down the hallway. “Go get Hunter and Craig!” he yelled back.
“Randall,” Melinda pleaded.
He paused and turned back to them. Alistair tried to hide the fear on his face, but he couldn’t. Melinda wiped tears from her eyes, sniffling as she tried to calm her breathing. Randall knew they were afraid, but he needed them to be strong, so summoning every bit of strength he had, he straightened up to his full height and took a deep breath.
“Alistair, I need you to get back to your brothers. Stay with them,” he started. He spoke calmly, but with a sense of certainty that left no room for discussion. “Melinda. You find Craig and Hunter. Tell them Koran is the mole and he’s trying to escape. You tell them that and you make sure they understand you.”
Crying, Melinda nodded.
“Go, go now!” Randall ordered.
Wincing, he turned and started back down the hallway. Every step he took sent shockwaves up his legs that exploded in his head like grenades. His body begged for him to stop, but he couldn’t. Clenching his jaw, he fought through the pain and moved faster and faster.
The halls were a maze. Every corridor he turned down looked identical to the last, like long bleak tunnels twisting themselves into a knot. He rushed down them frantically, fear fueling his movements and heightening his senses.
As he rounded the last corner he caught a glimpse of Koran. He vanished down the hall, speeding for the exit like hell was nipping at his heels. Straining, Randall lowered his head and sprinted after him.
He sped down two more halls and turning the last corner, he ran right into Koran as he was closing an electrical panel on the wall. They collided like two cars at an intersection, both leaving their feet, the impact knocking the wind out of Randall.
He scampered across the floor, letting out a rattled groan. His head swirled with clouds for the second time, but he fought through it and pushed himself onto all fours.
“Randall, stop!” Koran pleaded. “You don’t understand, this isn’t about you.”
Koran doubled over and placed his hands on his knees. Wincing, he grabbed his bag from the floor and straightened up.
“I’m not letting you get away with this,” Randall gasped and slowly stood up.
“Randall, it’s not what you think. My family…”
Randall ignored him. He took a deep breath and dove forward, but Koran stepped to the side. Randall sailed by him and latched onto his bag instead, ripping the strap as he hit the floor.
The bag tore open, sending the contents sliding across the ground. Randall rolled over and looked up at Koran with fire in his eyes.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Randall,” Koran warned. “I never wanted to hurt anyone.”
“Fuck you!” Randall spat angrily.
He shuffled backwards, trying to stand up. Koran’s supplies were all over the place, dry meal rations, rope, flashlights… he was certainly leaving.
Randall snatched the bag from the ground. “This is exactly what I think!” he spat and shook the bag in his hand. “You betrayed us.”
“Just give me the bag, Randall. Give me the bag!”
“No!” he shouted and glanced inside of the tattered ruck.
A black pistol was shoved in the pocket. Randall reached inside and grabbed it then pointed it at Koran, barely able to keep it leveled.
“They’re on the way, Craig and Hunter. They know all about this.”
Koran looked over his shoulder then took a step toward Randall. Randall took a half-step backward then tightened his grip on the gun.
“Randall, just…just calm down,” Koran stuttered. “You…you can come with me. You and your family.”
“Shut up!”
“Just listen to me Randall. Get your family and bring them. I never had an issue with you…I can keep you safe.”
“What the hell did you do, Koran? Why?”
Koran looked back again and bit his lip. He shuffled closer to Randall and started fidgeting his fingers. His eyes jittered back and forth and the muscle in jaw bulged as he clamped his teeth down.
“Randall, I’ve gotta go. I’ve gotta go now. You can come with me, but I’m leaving this place.”
“No, you’re not!” Randall yelled.
“Goddamn it, Randall! Don’t be so stupid. Just give me the fucking gun and get out of the way!”
“Craig!” Randall shouted down the empty hall and turned his head. “Craig!”
“Shut up! Shut your damn mouth,” Koran snapped and reached behind his back. He pulled out a pistol and leveled it toward Randall. “I didn’t want to do this, damn it.”
Randall turned back and gasped. Shaking, he took a deep breath and scowled. He brought his other hand up to steady his own gun and strained, cementing his resolve.
“Here we are again,” Koran laughed. “And you still haven’t learned how to work a safety.”
Randall looked down at the gun for a split-second and that was all the time Koran needed. As he looked back to Koran, he heard the shot but didn’t even feel the bullet that tore through his arm and spun him sideways. Straining his face, he stared at Koran in confusion as his body stumbled backward and the gun slipped from his hand and rattled to the floor.
“I’m sorry,” Koran said. “I really am sorry. This isn’t what I wanted.” He fired another round, striking Randall in the stomach.
Randall collapsed to the ground, his hand instinctively covering the wound as his life poured out in a crimson ooze. He took a labored breath and looked up as Koran stopped over him.
“Fuck you,” Randall managed to stammer as he spit blood.
Koran shook his head from side to side. “I warned you. I tr
ied to help you…but you didn’t want to take my offer,” he said coldly. “Goodbye, Randall.”
He squeezed the trigger twice, unleashing a deafening concussion. The empty shells spun through the air in a cloud of acrid smoke before clattering across the floor. They bounced and twisted in the air in slow motion, the dull cadence a percussion to death.
Randall unleashed a harsh, throttled breath. He gasped again, but it felt like someone was standing on his chest with their foot on his throat. His eyes teared and his vision blurred, life slipping away like a drip from a broken faucet. Swallowing the pool of blood in the back of his throat, Randall tried to speak, but couldn’t. He looked up as Koran stepped over him then everything faded to black.
CHAPTER 17
FALLEN HEROES
“Let me see him!” Melinda screeched.
Craig grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back. He lowered his head as she beat her fists into his chest, crying and cursing the gods of men. Looking past her, he caught a glimpse of their three kids and felt his heart crumble to dust inside of him.
He’d dealt with grieving widows, pulled body parts of his friends from the battlefield, but this was different. Somehow, it hurt even more and the helplessness he felt was paralyzing.
“She’s gonna save him, she’s gonna save him,” Craig repeated over and over as if he could convince himself to believe the lie.
Randall was stretched out across a bed only a few feet away. Cynthia was doing her best to control the bleeding as Hunter helped her run an IV. Even as they frantically worked, the life was fading from Randall faster than she could move.
A lake of blood covered the floor. Piles of soaked gauze were thrown everywhere, and a crash cart sat ominously next to the bed.
Randall could hardly keep his eyes open. He groaned and waved his hands wildly, fighting against demons that only he could see. Fighting against the cold grip of death that had come to take him from his family.
“He needs a transfusion or surgery. Now!” Hunter shouted.
With tears in her eyes, Cynthia shook her head. Hunter twisted his face into a painful snarl then looked away.
Deconstruction- The Complete series Box Set Page 77
