by Jeff Olah
Now making their way out of the lobby, the others were in a frenzy. All attempting to speak at once, it rapidly dissolved into a shouting match. Finally, Bryce stepped out away from the group of six and raised his voice to a level that called for attention.
“Everyone, let’s show a little respect. Shouting over one another isn’t going to get anything accomplished.”
Ben held tight to Mila’s hand. He stood beside Zach and tried to calm his voice. “Uh buddy, in case you haven’t noticed, we have a pretty big problem.”
The group went quiet, Bryce motioning back toward the entrance. “We should be okay, they won’t get through for at least ten minutes. We have some time to put together a solid plan.”
“No really, we don’t.” Ben’s eyes were wide and he appeared to be hyperventilating. “The exit on the other side of the lobby is blocked. Those things have us surrounded, I don’t think we’re getting out of—”
Bryce started back toward the lobby. He began to gather his things from the chair, slipped his jacket over his shoulders, and turned back to the group. “There is one other way out.”
Shannon shook her head. “The stairs to the parking garage?”
“That’s all we have at this point, it’s gonna be work, but it’ll be quicker than trying to go around. Move a few file cabinets, that beast of a desk, and we’re home free.”
He didn’t let on that he had no idea what lay between the main level and the garage two floors below. There wasn’t another way and although it was risky, he figured that it really was their only option.
The group started away from the doors, Shannon a few paces ahead of the others. “You sure about this? We’re not going to be running into another dead end?”
“I’ll go first, the rest of you can hang back.”
Zach ran away from Ben and stood behind Bryce, tugged at the back of his jacket. “Mr. Bryce, what about Mr. Ethan and Ms. Emma?”
All at the same time, the group stopped and turned from Zach to Bryce. Shannon spoke first. “Uh, he’s right. How are we—”
Bryce had moved to the far hall, but turned back and knelt beside the young boy. “I know where they went and how to find them. We’ll all leave together, I promise.”
Zach looked to Shannon and then smiled. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Shannon said. “But shouldn’t they have already returned? I mean it’s been more than a couple of hours. Maybe what’s out there has something to do with them.”
It was something he was thinking, but had decided to keep to himself. However, now that Shannon had voiced it, Bryce no longer felt the need to hide the reality from the others. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. That’s also why we need to get moving. We’ll run across them either way, but if we don’t get to that garage soon, it’s not going to matter. We won’t be able to help them.”
They moved as a unit. Fast to the stairs and then waited as Bryce, Tom, and Ben moved aside the mammoth file cabinets. At the door, Bryce flipped on the one remaining flashlight and gripped the door handle.
From behind, Ben put his hand on Bryce’s shoulder. “I’m going with you.”
“No,” Bryce said, “this is a one-man job.”
“Sorry, that’s not the way this group does things. I know you’re new here, but we do have rules.”
Tom gave a nod to his old friend. “No one goes anywhere alone.”
“Okay then.” Bryce slipped the door open a half inch and looked to Ben. “Stay close and don’t run me over. We get to the garage, then come back for the others.”
Through the door, Bryce pointed the flashlight toward the upper floors, waited a few seconds and then stepped out onto the landing. He paused once again, flooding the lower floors in illumination and just listened to the building groan under its own weight.
“Let’s go.”
Ben followed Bryce through the narrow stairwell, staying close, but also keeping a safe distance in case they needed to quickly come to a stop. Not much to see other than a forgotten purse and the remnants of a manila envelope and its contents spilled out over the final few steps.
They reached the door to the garage without incident and much quicker than Bryce would have thought. It always put him off when things were too easy; he almost had a superstition about the yin and yang of it all. He figured that somehow it meant that things were about to get much worse.
Handing the flashlight back to Ben, he leaned in and placed his ear against the back of door. Pulling away, he lowered his voice and stepped aside. “Okay, we’ve definitely got company out there, but they don’t sound too close. Let’s get them down here.”
Standing in the cramped hall leading out to the garage, the others watched as Bryce pulled open the door and checked the area.
“Okay they’re close,” he said. “We’ll make it, but we’ve got to hurry. The van is three spots up on the right and it’s facing out. Let’s go.”
Bryce led the group out into the garage, manually unlocked the doors, and slipped in behind the wheel. Once the others climbed in and found their seat, he scanned his path to the exit, and turned over the engine. “Everyone get buckled in, this might get rough.”
Tom sat to his right, leaning into the dash. “You see that?”
From the rear, Mila said, “What is it?”
“We’ve got a handful coming down the ramp from the street, but we are getting out of here. Probably best if everyone stays low.”
The report of another gunshot echoed through the garage.
Ben was seated behind Tom. He leaned forward gripping the seat, but kept his voice low. “Uh guys, I think we need to move.”
Bryce shifted into drive and started for the ramp. As he turned the last corner and started up the incline, he pressed the gas pedal to the floorboard and aimed for the center of the small crowd.
The van leapt forward as it rocketed out of the underground parking garage, tossing a pair of Feeders into the air like rag dolls. Bryce cranked the wheel to the right as the van lifted up onto two wheels and then slammed back down two feet from the opposite sidewalk.
“Everyone okay?”
Ben was still gripped tight to Tom’s seat, but now had his head turned to the left and looked out toward the front of the building. “Where’d they all come from?”
With his foot still on the brake and scanning the street from one end to the other, Bryce squinted as he tried to see through the morning sun. “We’ve got a few more down there, maybe a half mile.”
Mayor Gil leaned around Ben and placed his right hand just above his brow. “Son, I’m fairly certain that’s not exactly what you think it is.”
Bryce shifted into park and lowered his window. He continued to look down toward the end of the long block, shaking his head. “I don’t get it. Whatta ya mean?”
Shannon hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the lobby, although her quick gasp from the second row pulled all eyes in the light-colored van back to her. “Wait,” she said. “Oh no, that’s Griffin.”
222
Ethan sat up straight and unbuckled his seatbelt. He focused on the man in the distance and thought it odd that he had yet to notice them turning onto Porter Avenue. Had the previous gunfire masked the sound of the SUV or was it something else? To Emma he said, “Maybe we go back the way we came, take Sixth to Rockfield?”
Emma’s hands were wrapped tight to the wheel, the ridges of her knuckles white with fear. She swallowed hard and kept her focus on the man in the tan leather jacket. “I think he knows we’re here.”
“I’m not so sure,” Ethan said. “We might need to do this another way. We don’t know who this guy is or what he’s doing out here with our stuff, but I’m betting that it’s not anything good.”
“It’s not going to matter Ethan, he’s like maybe two blocks from the building. Even if we go around, we’ll still run into him. I think we should …”
Emma cocked her head to the right and as her voice trailed off, she brought her hands up over her mouth.
/> Ethan didn’t have to ask, he’d seen it at nearly the same moment. His mind now raced in a thousand different directions as he tried to make sense of the scene playing out a few hundred yards away. “We have to get up there.”
Emma kept her foot on the brake and turned to him. “He’s got a gun pointed at Griffin, he could easily turn it on us. Are you sure?”
He knew his sister was right, but there was also no way he could just drive away and leave his friend to die. He’d made too many regretful decisions over the last six weeks. His hesitation had even ended in his father’s death. He wasn’t going to stand by and just watch it happen again.
Ethan pointed to a spot thirty yards from the man with pistol. “Pull in behind that blue truck, keep it running.”
“What are you thinking about doing? How do you even—”
“Emma, we don’t have time for this. Just go.” Ethan felt an anger building in his stomach. His right hand began to shake as he gripped the door handle. “Please.”
Emma let out a long, defeated breath, gazed out through the windshield, again spotted Griffin, and started slowly toward the man with the gun. “Ethan, this doesn’t look good. Please think this through.”
“Just get me to that blue truck. Stay put and be ready to go.”
Emma parked the SUV along the sidewalk, facing out toward the street. Partially hidden behind the blue pickup truck, she left the SUV in drive and slid down in the driver’s seat. “I still think—”
“Emma, I have to go. You know that.”
“No, you don’t.”
Before she could convince him otherwise, Ethan looked toward the man thirty yards away, and opened his door. He stepped out slowly, paused before moving out into the street. “Do not get out. Okay?”
Emma didn’t respond.
“If this goes bad, I want you to just drive away. Don’t wait, just go. Get to Harbor Crest with the others.”
Emma leaned into the passenger seat. Now reaching for his hand, her face a mess of tears and anxiety. “Ethan please don’t go. There has to be another way, something else we can do.”
“I can’t leave him out here, not like this.” Ethan leaned back in and took her hand. “I love you.”
As Ethan stepped away and closed the door, he could hear her continuing to cry. She was right, he shouldn’t be getting involved. But so far, the man with the slick blond hair and tan leather jacket hadn’t killed his friend and Ethan knew there had to be a good reason why.
He took a few hesitant steps away from the SUV and began to go wide, attempting to make eye contact with Griffin. The details were a bit blunted due to the distance, but it was obvious even from his vantage that his friend was in bad shape.
Griffin stood hunched forward, favoring his right side. He was breathing hard and looked to have been attacked multiple times. His face, neck, and head were shrouded in a viscous blend of blood and dried grass. With his hands pressed into his knees, he finally met Ethan’s eyes and shook his head.
Ethan steadied himself and continued forward as the man in the tan leather jacket casually turned toward him, but kept his weapon trained on Griffin. “This is not your fight.”
Griffin moved his hands from his legs, fought to straighten his back, and lifted his head to face Ethan. “Please Ethan, just go. Take the others and get as far from this city as possible.”
“Yes,” the blond man said. “You need to take this man’s advice, he knows what he’s talking about. No need for anyone else to die this morning.”
Ethan took another two steps toward the man and stopped, now less than twenty yards away. “What do you want, the weapons? They’re yours, just take them and go, let me help my friend. I give you my word that will be the end of it, I have no intention of killing you today.”
The man lowered the weapon, began to nod, and quickly smiled. “Boy, I have to say, I do like your bravado. It’s got an Old World sense of class to it, not to mention the steadiness in your voice. It’s almost as if you actually believe what you’re saying.”
Ethan held his position and although continuing to look toward Griffin, again addressed the thin blond man. “Listen, we can all walk away from this, you just need to—”
“NO!” the man shouted. “We cannot all walk away from this, someone is going to die this morning, and it’s completely up to you who does what. So just get back into your vehicle with that pretty brunette and drive away. If you do that right now, I’ll only kill your friend here. But if you keep pushing me, I’ll make you watch me kill him and then I’ll torture the woman right here in the street. It’s really not going to be pretty, but you will watch and I will continue to remind you that it was your fault.”
Ethan started forward, turning his gaze from Griffin to the blond man. “I’m giving you the opportunity to do the right thing. You don’t want this, trust me.”
“You don’t understand, I do want this. I am going to kill at least one of you, and I am going to watch you take your final breath, listen as it exits your body, and feel your skin as it goes cold and turns from pink to grey. It’s all I can think about and it is going to happen. But it doesn’t have to happen for all of you. Just him. And I mean come on, your friend is mostly dead already, I’d be doing him and you a favor. You won’t have to do it later. You know, once he turns.”
Fifteen yards, maybe less. Ethan’s heart thundered in his chest like a bass drum. He could close the gap in less than three seconds, he was sure of it. Maybe take one to the shoulder or arm—he could survive that—and if he was lucky, end it before things got serious. He just needed to keep the lunatic talking, that’s how he would win.
“How about you let my friend go,” Ethan motioned toward the black duffles the man had laid on the street. “And we’ll let you take both bags, call it even. What do you say?”
The look on the blond man’s face changed. His smile rapidly faded and his eyes narrowed. It was slight, but he also turned up his nose and appeared to growl as he raised the nine millimeter. “Nope, time’s up. I told you what was going to happen and you decided to waste the gift I was offering. Now all three of you are going to die.”
“NO!”
The blond man in the tan leather jacket twisted back toward Griffin, fired off a single round and howled into the thin morning air.
Griffin was hit just below the waist, along his left hip. He was thrown violently backward as the man fired a second shot that tore into his right hand just as he dropped to the sidewalk in a heap.
Ethan was already in a dead sprint when he heard the SUV rush past him. The massive vehicle blocked his view as it sped in a straight line toward the man with the gun. In less than a second, a third and then a fourth shot rang out, the last round punching a hole in the driver’s side window as it raced away from the scene.
The dark colored SUV rocked forward as it slammed into the blond man, throwing his limp body ten feet in the air and onto the sidewalk a few feet beyond where Griffin now lay bloodied and broken.
Ethan was still running when the SUV rolled to a stop along the curb. He moved quickly to his friend’s side, dropped to his knees, and took his hand. “Griff, we gotta get you up. We gotta get—”
Griffin pushed him away, was looking past him. “No, she … she needs …”
Ethan nodded. His friend was nearly incoherent. He was slurring his words and not making any sense. “Yes,” Ethan said, turning toward the blond man—now severely disfigured and unmoving, a thick river of red velvet flowing freely from his eyes, nose, and mouth. “He’s gone, we’re going to get you out of here, just hold on.”
Griffin pulled back, placed his injured right hand on the sidewalk, attempting to stand. “No.” He reached for Ethan’s face, pushed it back toward the SUV. “Em … Emma … help.”
Still pulling at his friend, trying to get him up, Ethan turned to focus on the SUV. A small hole sat just above the driver’s side windshield wiper, a network of splintered lines darting off in every direction. It was surrounded by a fin
e red mist that ran from the inside of the fractured glass and pooled along the dashboard
Behind the clouded windshield, his sister was slouched to the left, her head pressed against the frame of the door. And as the realization of what he looked upon began to flood in, Ethan’s body all at once went numb.
“Emma.”
223
Ethan was on his feet and moving toward the driver’s door before his mind could catch up with what had just taken place. As he reached the door and guided Emma back against the seat, she reflexively grabbed at her neck, blood surging between the fingers of her right hand.
“NO EMMA. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!”
She was trying to respond, but only managed a few syllables as she coughed more mucus-filled blood out into her left hand. “Hand … you … here …”
Griffin had somehow managed to limp out into the street, retrieve the two bags, and climb into the back seat. Looking like he was about to lose consciousness, he motioned toward the opposite end of the long city block. “Ethan, we have to go.”
Ethan pulled the driver’s door open and on instinct gently began to lower the seat. Emma’s eyes were wide and her face ashen. She was staring up at him, looking through him. Then began to choke.
He leaned into the cab, looked quickly into the back seat, and for the first time understood the extent of his friend’s injuries. Griffin’s left leg was bent at an awkward angle, and he was missing not only the boot from his right foot, but also the lower half of his pant leg. The exposed skin beneath was torn away in thick sheets, purple in color, and badly swollen. His face, neck, and head were shrouded in a dried blood, thick and chunky near a massive wound that parted his hair on the right side.
Ethan spoke quickly, his words coming out all at once. “Griff, what do I do?”
Griffin sat forward in his seat, moved aside the black bags, and as he began to speak, the squealing of tires against the asphalt pulled his attention toward the street. He nodded to Ethan, placed his hand on Emma’s shoulder, and said, “Look.”
