by Hunt, Jack
Colby was beginning to think that Alicia and Kane had left town, possibly even gone to Los Banos. It’s what he would have done. Unless she was searching for him. He wished he could remember what occurred that night, but it was still a blur.
Jackson’s wife, Rachel, a short brunette, a curvy gal, led him through the back to some steps that went to the roof. He sucked in the early evening air and was greeted by the sight of Jackson’s three boys, one each on three sides of the building, exchanging rounds with men down on the street, on buildings across the way. They were all wearing military fatigues, helmets, flak vests, and army boots.
“Gareth, toss me another mag.”
A magazine bounced across the roof, and he scooped it up.
“Hey!” Gareth said, palming the magazine into his rifle. “That’s Dominic, Edward, and I’m Gareth.”
“Colby,” he replied.
“Make yourself comfy. You need any guns or ammo, help yourself,” he said, returning to firing at hostiles. There was a stack of rifles on either side with open boxes of ammo and bullets spread out. It was a mess. Brass shells were everywhere. It reminded him of… Another memory hit, this time it saw him as part of the LAPD. Outside a home where a gunman had held occupants hostage.
He blinked hard. Focus, he told himself.
“Your father said turn up your radio.”
“It is,” he replied, showing him.
They went at it hard for twenty minutes exchanging rounds before the gunfire ceased. He thought they were reloading, but they weren’t.
A strong voice came over a megaphone, loud, clear, familiar.
“Colby Riker. You over there?”
From behind the lip of the roof, Gareth looked at him, his brow creasing.
Colby peered over to a place called Valley Antiques. He couldn’t see too well because of the night. But standing behind the huge vertical sign, he spotted a silhouette, and he recognized that voice. Bill “Spider” Manning. “You are like a cat with nine lives,” Bill shouted.
He turned a dial on the megaphone and it let out a high-pitched squeal.
He was adjusting the volume. A few seconds passed, then he got on a radio. He was careful to stay out of sight as Gareth tried to get a bead on Bill through his scope.
Right then, three different vehicles, old, rusted-out, banged-up trucks from the ’70s rolled up near the intersection. Headlights shining on the gun store. One from the north, another from the west, another from the south. The east was clear. Over the speaker, he heard Bill again. “You cost me a lot of money. I have to say that little stunt your friend pulled back in Santa Nella was quite impressive. I think you know what’s about to happen. But before you react, and do something stupid, let me tell you something. In every vehicle is gallons of gasoline, and in one is my father. That’s right, Jeb, the man that helped you. Saved your sorry ass. So if you’re thinking of shooting the canisters, don’t bother. You might just kill him. I’m sure you don’t want him to burn to death.” He chuckled. “Now I bet you’re thinking, which one is he in, right?” All the trucks revved their engines, a guttural sound sending gnarly gray smoke behind them. “I don’t want to kill my father, or torch this fine establishment, but I will if you don’t get the owner to lay down his weapons.”
“How do I know Jeb’s alive?” he bellowed, staying out of sight.
“I guess you’ll have to trust me.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Colby. I will send these vehicles in and you’ll all go up in flames.”
Colby was hoping he’d indicate which one so they could shoot the others and decrease the threat. But Bill was smarter than that. “So… what will it be?”
“You got a bead on the drivers?” Colby asked Gareth. At least if they could take out the drivers there would be no one to drive a vehicle. However, no doubt, if given the command they would shift into drive, jam something against the accelerator and jump out as the truck barreled toward the store.
He gritted his teeth and lowered his head.
Gareth stared at him. “Do you know this guy?”
“We’ve had a run-in with each other. Yeah. Nearly killed me.”
Colby looked across the road to Bill. “I have an injured friend. You let one of us take him out, and the place is yours.”
“What the fuck?” Gareth said. “Are you out of your mind? My father won’t go for that. Neither will we.”
He ducked back down again, speaking in a low voice. “I’m buying some time.”
“To do what?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in a situation like this. But I’m not letting that old man die or us go up in flames.”
“You don’t even know he’s out there. He could be playing with you,” Edward spat.
It was true. Colby wasn’t an idiot, he knew the odds that Jeb was still alive were slim to none, and if it came down to their lives or his, he’d have to die, but if there was even the slightest chance that he was alive, and he could keep him alive, he owed him that. He would have been dead if it wasn’t for him.
Bill cried out, “Come on, Colby! What will it be?”
“My injured friend? What about him?”
A pause.
“We’ll give him and one other free passage, but that’s it.”
“How can I trust you?”
“I wouldn’t but you are out of options.”
“That’s what you think,” he muttered under his breath. Colby shouted back, “Give me ten minutes.”
“You get five,” Bill replied.
Asshole, Colby muttered as he went back inside. Paul was patched up. Still in pain but it was better than before. He would still need medicine, and a doctor to take a look at it to avoid infection.
“I heard,” Jackson said.
Colby nodded, his gaze darting between them.
“He’ll let him go. One of us can take him out.”
Jackson tossed the medkit on the counter and snorted.
“You think that’s true?”
“Yes.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because he wants what’s in here. Anything that screws with that will jeopardize his plan.”
Jackson shook his head. “Plan. That guy isn’t getting in, so tell me something I don’t know.”
“Take a look.” Jackson followed Colby to the door where the floor was littered with glass. Through the opening, he could see one of the trucks. “There’s another two like that. All filled with gasoline. All about to be driven at this store. He will do it, Jackson. Trust me on that.”
“What the fuck?” He burst toward the counter, scooping up his rifle. “If that asshole thinks he’s…”
“Jackson!” Colby said, chasing after him. “I’ll go speak with him. See if I can’t make another arrangement. But for now, we need to get Paul out and get him medical treatment. So who’s going with him?”
“No one. They’ll kill him and whoever goes with him the moment they step outside. No, the only thing a guy like this understands is violence.” He took off upstairs, and Colby raced after him, glancing at Paul as he passed him.
“You don’t understand. You go shooting those vehicles and you might kill someone.”
“That’s the plan.”
“No. An innocent.” He grabbed his bicep on the stairwell. “A man helped me. Saved my life. Bill said he’s in one of those trucks.”
“And you believe him?”
“Yes. No. Look, he saved my life. I don’t want him to die.”
“But you’ll let us die?” He pressed his finger into his chest. “The only reason both of you are alive right now is because of us. So I guess you need to decide who’s more important.” He continued up the stairwell, leaving Colby standing there.
He wasn’t done. This wasn’t over.
Colby raced to the roof and came up behind Jackson as he was preparing to take a shot at one of the trucks. “Don’t do this, Jackson.”
“It’s already done
. Ready, boys?” He had his three sons get in position, each one focused on one of the trucks.
“You can’t do this until Paul is out.”
Through gritted teeth, Jackson replied without taking his eyes away from the scope. “Then get him out.”
Bill could probably hear them talking, the others getting ready to open fire. He got back on the megaphone. “That better not be the decision I think it is, Colby. Jeb’s life depends on you.”
“I’m pretty sure five minutes isn’t up,” Colby replied.
He heard Bill laugh then continue. “You’re right, but then why aren’t you all leaving?”
“They are here to make sure you don’t go back on your word. If my friend is followed, shot at, or anything happens, you don’t get the store.”
“You giving orders now, Colby?” Bill asked.
Colby turned to Jackson. “Is there another way out of this store besides the main door?”
“There is. In the basement, there’s a door between here and the store next door. It was built that way back when this place was a bar. The two stores were one building and they used it to roll in the alcohol.”
“Look. I know you’re protecting your business but—”
“There are no buts. I wouldn’t have let you in if I knew this would happen.”
“This would happen with or without us,” Colby shot back.
“Yeah, well, I’m not leaving, that’s all that matters.”
“And what about your sons, your wife? Don’t they matter?”
That hit a nerve. “Get out now before I shoot you myself,” Jackson snarled.
Colby nodded and realized he’d overstayed his welcome. There was no easy way through this. People would die. Not everyone could be saved. Whether it was Jeb or Jackson’s family. It was a gamble. He knew better than anyone what this man was capable of, what he would do. Colby knew full well that given the opportunity, Bill would execute Jackson and his family. After all the men Jackson had killed so far, death was the only outcome.
Downstairs, Colby made his way over to Paul. “You’re getting out of here.”
“He won’t let us walk.”
“Walk, stay, there is a chance we all die. Okay? There’s no easy way out of this. If they could shoot their way out, they would have already done it.”
“I’m not stepping out front.”
“No, you’re going out the rear.”
Paul furrowed his brow. “What?”
“The eastern road doesn’t have a truck. They’re all gathered around the north, west, and south on this street. The rear exit is to the east. It’s dark. You head out, go south on the other street. You’ll leave through the rear, head back to your wife and kid, there is a truck parked over by the elementary school,” Colby said, taking out the keys. “Take it. Head to Los Banos. Get your family to safety.” He placed the keys in his hands then turned to head back up.
“Colby. Wait.”
“What?” He looked as if he wanted to say something but then he didn’t.
“Can you get him out the rear?” Colby asked Rachel. She nodded, and they left the room heading down into the basement. Before they exited, he told her to wait for the word over the radio before letting him out. Colby glanced at his watch. Time was ticking. He collected his M4, made sure it was loaded, and headed to the roof.
“Damn it, man, are you still here?” Gareth asked.
Staying low, he hurried over. “Jackson. I’ve got an idea.”
TWENTY-SIX
It was a shot in the dark but then remaining here and doing nothing would be fatal.
“If your idea is like your last one, I don’t want to hear it,” Jackson said.
“Paul’s heading out the back. I’ll take one of your sons and go out the front.”
“No."
“They don’t know who’s injured. Paul will head east. We cover your son’s face, wrap one of those bloody bandages you left downstairs and then roll out, and skirt around. It’s dark. You want to get rid of these guys. You aren’t going to do it from in here or you would have already done it. So you keep him preoccupied, and then we hit them from every side including the trucks.”
Jackson mused as he stared. “And what about your buddy?”
Colby looked over the edge at the trucks. Was he down there? If he was, there was nothing that could be done now.
One man’s life versus six people. It was a no-brainer.
“Look, by my count, Bill’s crew is down to a handful if even that. We hit them hard, and fast. You take out the drivers.”
There was a moment of contemplation.
“Time’s up, Colby!” Bill yelled.
Colby waited for a response from Jackson. “So?”
“Sure. Why not? I’m getting tired of being holed up in here. But you’re staying. I’m going with my son.”
“What? But…”
“No buts,” Jackson said. “I trust him more than you.”
“You got it, Pops,” Gareth said.
Colby turned. “Hey. I need to use your radio.”
Gareth handed it to him.
They headed back inside while Colby went over to the front of the store, staying low, waiting to see them come out the front. He wanted to go to the east to check but that would take Bill’s eyes off him and right now, keeping him looking one way while something was happening another was all he could do to ensure this worked.
A radio crackled on Edward’s vest. Jackson was ready.
He gave Colby the thumbs-up.
Colby got on the radio and told Rachel to let Paul out, then he hollered to Bill. “All right, they’re coming out. Don’t shoot and once they’re gone, you get what you want.”
“I always do!” Bill bellowed back. Jackson exited with his son who was bundled up. His clothes were different, he wore a baseball cap and had his head down and under the glow of the external solar lights, he noticed he was sporting a bloody bandage. They took off down the street, his son hobbling, pretending he’d been injured.
Jackson had a duffel bag over his shoulder, he was sure a few goodies were inside that. As agreed, Bill’s men didn’t open fire. That would have been a wrong move. He’d lost too many men to watch this place go up in flames. All those days, all that loss of life. No, he wanted the contents of this store like a crack addict wanted another hit.
When they were out of sight and sure that no one was following, Bill bellowed through the megaphone, “Okay. Now it’s time for you all to leave.” The engines revved, one final threatening reminder.
“You got eyes on the drivers?” Colby asked.
“I got a bead on where the driver would be,” Dominic said.
“Edward?”
As he was waiting for a response, Rachel appeared on the roof, an unusual weapon in hand, ready to help. On her back was a small backpack.
“Just give me the word,” Edward added.
“Did Paul get out?”
“Yeah, he’s safe.”
Colby nodded. “Good.”
Rachel got into position, unzipped the bag, and showed him a collection of flash and smoke grenades.
“Is that a…?” he asked, pointing to the unusual weapon.
She nodded. “An M70 grenade launcher. Jackson wanted me to hold off using it. It’s a one-of-a-kind. It’s not for sale, and the military now use the 203 but it works like a charm.” It looked like a short-barreled rifle. It was a single-shot device that was simple and deadly. She reached in and took out a 40 mm grenade and shifted the lever in the back to break open the gun. Rachel loaded the round into the breech then closed the barrel.
“You used that before?” Colby asked.
“I run a gun store, what do you think?”
He smirked.
“Colby! Don’t push my patience,” Bill shouted.
“You think you could work some magic on that asshole?”
“We’ll give it a try.” Rachel smiled. He tapped her on the shoulder and told the others to get ready to unleash hell. Before
they even had a chance, gunfire erupted. It was Jackson and Gareth, they’d skirted around to the west and begun the assault. Rachel popped up before Bill could bark an order and fired the M70.
The explosion from the grenade rocked the street, sending huge chunks of concrete down and a plume of dust rising. Edward and Dominic delivered rounds at two of the drivers at the same time. The windshields cracked, holes riddled metal. For a brief moment, he thought they’d done it.
That it was all over.
It wasn’t.
Bill wasn’t dead. Amid the dust, Colby saw silhouettes making a break for it. And while two of the vehicles were out of commission, the third wasn’t. The truck came barreling toward the store from the south, striking the corner and erupting in a fireball. Colby felt the store roof shift beneath his feet.
Rounds erupted and he ducked then returned fire.
After a few minutes of exchanging gunfire, then he raced down into the store to go after Bill. Colby found the whole front of the store ablaze. He lifted a hand and had turned to alert the others when he was struck in the face and sent reeling back. The world flashed for a second, then when he blinked again, he saw a young guy bringing down a barrel inches from his face.
Instinctively Colby slapped the barrel.
Pop.
It went off millimeters from his ear. A ringing reverberated loud and steady as he kicked the guy in the knee and his attacker buckled. In a flash, Colby was on him, striking him in the face several times.
Until he heard a gun cock behind his head.
Colby froze, arm in the air, ready to deliver another blow.
“That’s it. Get up!”
He lifted his hands. He felt the handgun pulled from his waistband. Hauled to his feet, he was shoved against the far wall. The blaze continued sending black smoke into the store. The young man on the ground got up, blood gushing down his face. Without a warning, he lifted his gun and aimed it at Colby, but it was forced down by Bill. “No. He’s mine. You came for Gareth.”
The young man nodded and took off up the stairwell. Outside gunfire continued.
Another armed man went up the stairwell to the roof and gunshots rang out. Colby could only imagine that they’d been caught off guard and Jackson’s kids and wife were now dead.