Richard, watching the two of them carefully, saw Abbie look over at him.
Josh flashed Richard a dark look, then snapped, “Fine! You want to side with them, you want to die with them? Fine. You’re on your own!” He pointed angrily in her face, then left, slamming the screen door shut behind him.
Richard watched Abbie as she stared after him, then, lowering her eyes, she leaned back against the door, sliding down to the floor hopelessly. Richard moved to crouch in front of her and squeezed her shoulder. Abbie buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Richard breathed out heavily, looked over at the unconscious woman lying on the couch, then over his shoulder at Pellan.
“What the hell are we going to do now?” he asked him.
“I don’t know,” Pellan answered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I honestly don’t know.”
*
Deputy Cann, sitting hunched over in the chair, had dozed off. Whether from exhaustion, lack of food and water, or whether the beating he’d taken had left him with a concussion, he wasn’t sure. But he awoke with a start at the sound of the door opening and people, more hostages, being forced into the small room.
He recognized Rachael Manner’s daughter, the Clean Skin mother who had been evicted from the CZ with her striped child. She lay unconscious on the floor, her hands bound in front. Her screaming child was placed beside her, along with another young, distraught African-American boy.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked Langdon and Trent.
“Leverage,” Austin told him from the doorway. “To make sure your friends don’t do anything stupid.”
“Goddamn it, Austin!” Leo said. “You have me for leverage, let them go!”
“You ain’t a Clean Skin, deputy. They’re worth more.”
“They’re kids, for God’s sake!”
Austin and his accomplices left the room, locking the door and leaving him alone with the unconscious girl and crying children. He eyed them all, panicking at the thought of what Magnus Bracks was planning. The young boy in particular was quite distressed.
“Hey,” he said to the crying boy, trying to calm him. “Hey, it’s okay.”
The boy didn’t look at him, he just banged on the door and cried for his mother.
“Hey,” Leo tried again, “it’s okay. Your mom will come get you soon, alright?”
The boy’s scared dark eyes looked at him, but then he turned back to the door and started crying again. Leo didn’t blame him. God knows what he looked like right now with his battered and bloodied face. The boy probably thought he looked like Frankenstein’s monster or something. He sure felt like it the way his face felt tight and puffy and was throbbing and thumping.
“What’s your name?” he asked the boy, trying to ignore the pain in his head. “Mine’s Leo. Can you tell me your name?”
The boy didn’t answer, just kept his back turned and kept on crying, calling for his mother. Leo looked over to the screaming, fidgeting baby lying next to the unconscious girl. He closed his eyes a moment and lowered his head again. He felt so helpless; beaten, handcuffed, weaponless, surrounded by screaming children. He had to do something, but couldn’t think what. He tugged on his handcuffs in frustration.
Then he suddenly remembered that he still had a spare key to the locked cuffs.
They’d been no good to him before, because he was handcuffed through the back of the chair. But now there was someone in the room who could get the key and unlock the cuffs for him, he may just stand a chance.
He looked at the unconscious girl again. He stuck out his foot and tried to shake her awake.
“Hey,” he said, trawling his memory for her name. “Kaitlyn?” He shook her again but she didn’t stir. He saw the young boy looking over his shoulder, watching him. Leo turned his attention back to him. “Hey,” he said, “I know you want to see your mom. I can help you. My name is Leo and I’m a cop. Do you know what a cop is?”
The boy looked at him with his dark, wet, terrified face.
“I’m Leo,” he said again, as softly as he could. “I’m a policeman. Did your mom ever tell you what a policeman is?”
The boy nodded hesitantly.
“I try to help people,” Leo said gently, wondering whether the boy’s mother had told him good things about the police, or bad. Would this kid trust him? “And I can help you get back to your mom, but I need you to do something for me.”
The boy looked at him, eyeing his bloodied and battered face.
“What’s your name?” Leo asked.
The boy didn’t answer.
“My name is Leo. What’s yours?”
“C—Cassius,” his weak, quiet voice eventually said, as he huddled against the door, still terrified.
“Hi, Cassius,” Leo smiled, feeling his cut lip and bruised cheeks sting and throb. “I’m going to help you get back to your mommy, Cassius, but I need you to help me with something. Can you do that?”
Cassius looked at him, wiping the back of his arm across his nose.
“Can you do that, Cassius?” Leo asked. “Can you help me? I have a key in my pocket and I need you to get it for me. Can you do that?”
The boy looked at the door and started crying again.
“I know you’re scared, Cassius. I am too. But I can help you. I promise, I’ll help you find your mommy. I just need to have my hands untied first. If you help me get the key, I can untie my hands, and then I can take you to your mommy.”
The boy looked at him.
“Will you help?” Leo asked him, trying to smile again, trying to ignore the terrible ache in his head.
The boy just stared.
Leo motioned with his head, to his pocket. “My keys are just in there, in my pocket, but I can’t reach them. I know you could reach them, Cassius.”
The boy wiped his face again, seeming a little calmer now.
“What do you say?” Leo asked him. “You help me get my keys and I’ll take you to your mommy.”
The boy stared at him for another moment, then finally stood up.
“That’s it.” Leo smiled again and tried to angle his body to make his right pocket accessible. “They’re just in this pocket here.”
The boy moved over cautiously to stand in front of Leo.
Suddenly gunfire rang out, making both of them flinch. Leo eyed the doorway and listened. It sounded like it was coming from the street outside.
They heard it again.
“Cassius,” Leo said urgently, “help me with my key!”
The boy started crying again. More gunfire sounded, closer this time.
“Cassius, come here!” Leo said. “Move away from the door. It’s not safe!”
The boy glanced at him then back at the door. More gunfire rang out, and someone ran past the door shouting, “He’s been shot! They got Lewis!”
“Jesus,” Leo breathed. The chief or the military were making a move.
More gunfire sounded.
“Get behind me! Now!” Leo barked to Cassius. The boy looked at him, petrified. “Cassius, get behind me, behind my chair!” The terrified boy did so, bawling as he squeezed into the tight space behind Leo’s chair. The girl on the ground began to stir. More gunfire and shouting ensued. Leo reached his leg out and tried to move the baby further into the corner, tried to shake the girl awake. She stirred again, but didn’t open her eyes.
He turned his face to the door again, hoping to hell that whoever came in would make sure they looked before they fired.
The door suddenly burst open, giving him and Cassius a fright. Roy and Langdon charged in, grabbed Leo in a headlock, bent him forward and unlocked the cuffs, then dragged him roughly out the door.
*
Chief Blackstone watched as Roy dragged his deputy in sight of the doorway leading to the warehouse out back. Leo’s face was bloodied and swollen, blood spatters covered his shirt and cuffs still dangled from one wrist. Roy pressed a pistol against his temple.
<
br /> “There, chief, you got your evidence,” Roy yelled. “Now pull back or I will blow your deputy’s brains out!”
Blackstone locked eyes with Leo, giving him a look of solidarity. He wanted Leo to know that he was doing what he could to get him out of there. He’d started the assault along with a small military contingent, and had progressed into the store. One of the soldiers had killed the young man on the door, Lewis, in an exchange of gunfire. But Blackstone couldn’t think about that boy right now. Right now, Roy was holding up their progress with talk of executing the hostages, starting with his deputy. Blackstone had insisted on proof that Leo was still alive.
“You alright, Leo?” Blackstone called.
His deputy managed a nod. “They got kids in here, Earl—” Leo’s words were cut short by Roy cracking him across the head.
“Keep your mouth shut!” Roy yelled, then looked at Blackstone. “I’m warning you, chief. Pull back or I’ll kill him. You know I will.”
Blackstone evaluated the situation. He’d insisted on being given authority for the assault, since he knew those involved, and now the leader of the military unit was looking at him for his next move. Blackstone gave a reluctant nod, and motioned back to the street.
“Pull back,” he told the soldier.
The soldier eyed him a moment in question.
Blackstone gave a sharp, definite nod.
“You don’t give up gained ground,” the soldier whispered.
Blackstone looked at him. “When they’re threatening to execute children, you do,” he said with finality, then motioned for them to pull back.
The lead soldier reluctantly obeyed, and the unit slid carefully back to the doorway.
Blackstone looked at his deputy. “I’ll get you out of here, Leo. Just hold tight.”
Leo gave him a nod, before he was swiftly yanked back into the warehouse.
*
Mayor Michael Russo squeezed his eyes shut as the state governor yelled down the phone.
“I know it’s your town, Russo, but it’s in my state! What the hell is going on. Why are they pulling back?”
Russo exhaled. “They started the assault, but Bracks is threatening to execute Clean Skins if we don’t back down. He has the young mother who was kicked out of the Clean Zone, her newborn baby, and another Clean Skin boy about four years old. Not to mention our deputy.”
“So what are you doing about it? I’ve got the National Guard ready to go.”
“Colonel Levin has stepped in. He’s brought in their best negotiator to see if he can secure the hostages’ release. We had no choice. They had a gun to the deputy’s head.”
“What’s your chief of police doing?”
“He’s down at the gate helping the negotiator.”
“This is out of hand. You should’ve shut this down a long time ago. So shut it down now!”
“We’re trying to, governor. We’re trying.”
Russo hung up the phone, only to have it ring immediately. He picked it up.
“Mayor,” Eva said, “Deputy Mayor Shother is on the line. He’s demanding to speak with you.”
Russo sighed heavily. Aren’t they all, he thought. He’d been fending off calls from the other members of council all day.
“Tell him I’m a little busy right now,” he said.
“He said he won’t take no for an answer.”
“Well, he’s just going to have to,” Russo said and hung up again.
*
Dr. Lysart Pellan turned the TV on, wanting an update on what was happening with the siege. It wasn’t too long after Austin had left that the sounds of gunfire had erupted.
Richard had encouraged Abbie to sit on the couch and had locked the front door. Shonda-May, the neighbor, was still out cold.
“We need to get her to a doctor,” Abbie had said worriedly.
Lysart moved to the woman, cupping the back of her neck. He’d felt something wet and pulled his fingers away to see they were covered in blood.
“Do you have ice, Abbie?” he asked.
She nodded and made her way to the kitchen.
“Jesus!” Richard breathed, his mouth agape as he stared at the TV.
Lysart turned toward it, as Abbie came back with a bag of frozen corn in her hand. The three of them stared silently at the parade of images. Someone had recorded the siege from the apartment building overlooking the gateway. As the replay ended, they saw more recent amateur footage of Chief Blackstone discussing tactics with military personnel, behind the inter-zone gate on the Clean Skin side. The body of the young man shot in the siege, a Striped One, lay on the ground near the doors of the hardware store. Abbie wondered who it was, whether she’d seen him around at the VAC, but the way his body lay meant she couldn’t see his face on the footage.
“Why aren’t they moving in?” Abbie asked. “Why are they stopping?”
“Magnus probably announced his hostages,” Richard responded.
A newsreader came back on screen and said they would try and speak live with the Clean Skin resident who had taken the footage in just a moment, then proceeded to replay the footage of the earlier assault, when the military stormed the front of the store. According to the newsreader, one Striped One was confirmed as dead, while it was believed other casualties remained inside the hardware store.
Abbie finally handed the bag of frozen corn to Lysart, and he held it to the back of Shonda-May’s head. He watched as Abbie moved to the curtains and peered out. She closed them again and seemed to think for a moment, then looked at both Lysart and Richard.
“Maybe you two should go with Josh?” she said.
The two men stared at her.
“Josh’s right. If they find out you’re here . . .” she said softly, shaking her head. “They’ll want as much leverage as they can get, now the military is trying to move in.”
“I don’t think Josh would welcome our company right now,” Richard told her.
Abbie stared at him. “Magnus and Roy are serious, Rick. They could kill you.”
“And if they found out we were here, they could kill you, Abbie. I’m not running away and leaving you to face that alone.”
“But this could be your only chance.”
“She’s right,” Lysart pondered. “We may not get another chance to escape. Magnus and Roy are busy right now, as is Austin. We could make our way back to where that sewer tunnel is.”
Richard stared at him. “If you want to go, Dr. Pellan, don’t let me hold you back. But I can’t—”
“Rick—” Abbie protested.
“I’m not going to leave you here alone with those crazy assholes running around, Abbie!”
Lysart listened to them, the concern they had for one another. He studied them thoughtfully and saw something in their eyes. It made him recall when he was a younger man. He mused on lost chances, his age, of what he had to gain by running to the sewers, or to the country. He knew he had nothing out there now. He knew the government would eventually catch up with him. He knew there would be a price to pay, regardless.
He looked down at the unconscious woman who had tried to help them, whose son was now a captive of Magnus, then he looked back to Abbie and Richard. He thought of the young Kaitlyn and baby Charlie, and he knew then that his fate was sealed. He couldn’t abandon these people. He had to do what he could, to help save those who stood a chance of having a life after this mess was over.
“We stay,” he said softly.
Abbie and Richard looked at him.
“Richard’s right. We can’t run away. So we stay,” he said firmly, focusing his attention on Abbie. “You helped us when we needed it, Abbie. So we don’t abandon you or Kaitlyn now.”
*
Deputy Leo Cann, cuffed once more, sat still while a groggy Kaitlyn Manner fished in his pocket for his spare key ring. Her hands were bound, so it was a little awkward, but she eventually managed to hook her fingers on the small loop of keys
and drag them out.
When they’d brought him back to the storeroom after the standoff with the chief, Kaitlyn had come to. She’d done her best to soothe her screaming baby, although she couldn’t hold him properly with her hands bound like they were. Leo had worked hard to calm all three of them, and once that was accomplished, he’d thought about what to do next.
He’d told her they had to play this very carefully. For now, there was no threat of being caught in the crossfire as the military had pulled back, which was something at least. But he wasn’t sure how much time they had before the military pressed forward again. Or before their captors snapped and did something stupid in desperation. And he knew it would be stupid. Most of the young guys, from what he could tell, were on some kind of stimulant. They were overtired, they were on edge, and they weren’t thinking straight. A very dangerous combination.
Kaitlyn, unsteady on her feet, with a black eye and bleeding head, was presently unlocking his cuffs. Now he had to pick his moment to make a move. But he had to be careful about it. He and Kaitlyn were outnumbered, and if he made a wrong move he would be killed. And not only that, his actions could get Kaitlyn and the two children killed. Whatever he did, he had to leave them out of it.
For now, he was just going to sit there and pretend he was still bound, until the right opportunity presented itself.
*
Mayor Russo sat at his desk, head resting in his hands. Chief Blackstone had been reporting on the events down at the gate, but he didn’t need to. Russo had the TV on, watching the news reports, and his heart sank further with every minute that passed. Victoryville was a mess. An absolute disaster spread across every media agency and affiliate website that existed. These events were drawing as much attention as the alien visitation had. He’d stopped checking the social media feeds a while back. Seeing the town being described as “Victimville” and “Savageville”, along with images of the town graffitied with red stripes and blood splatters, was too much to bear.
Russo knew it would be hard to recover from this. Things had gone too far. He’d let them go too far. He should’ve let the military go in when they first wanted to, before there were hostages involved. He’d made decisions without consulting the council and they had backfired. Now he would need to face the consequences.
The Time of the Stripes Page 33