by Bowman, Dave
Another small group of prisoners streamed out of the hotel and headed toward the south, in the direction of the vehicles.
Jack kept his weapons ready as he made his way down the sidewalk. He glanced over at the bodies surrounding the hotel. Many prisoners had been shot, but the body count of the guards was larger.
They skirted around the hotel until they reached the road that ran adjacent to the hotel. Turning to the right, Jack headed south.
"We've got to get one of the cars before it's too late," he said over his shoulder to Brent as the two men picked up speed on the quieter street.
"What about Naomi?" Brent asked. "We're just going to leave her behind?"
"Of course not," Jack said. "We're going to look for her. But if we don't get a vehicle now, they'll be all gone."
The two men broke into a sprint once they were past the hotel area. Jack was still on alert. The danger of being attacked by a stray guard was still high, and he was on the lookout for any anomalies in the shadowy street.
Behind them, more and more escaped prisoners headed south. Headlights came over the hill. They dodged a vehicle speeding down the road. It was a vintage pickup truck. Jack's chest tightened with worry. Hopefully, there would still be some vehicles left by the time they got there.
Once they cleared the hill, they saw a small covered parking garage where the vehicles had been kept. Two more vehicles were being driven off the lot.
Jack pushed himself to run faster, leaving Brent struggling to keep up. He passed a trio of escaped prisoners who were also headed to the cars.
Jack could only hope that the keys would be in the vehicles.
Once they got to the garage, Jack was relieved to see three vehicles parked there. He had only moments to find a vehicle and drive off before more prisoners arrived.
The Pathfinder was gone, but a couple of old 1970s sedans and a late 1980s Chevy Bronco remained. Jack sprinted across the parking lot toward the Bronco.
The vehicle was unlocked, but the keys were nowhere to be found. Gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, he searched through the glove box, through the back seats, under the floor mats, and behind the visors.
He spun around, looking through the space. He could hear the voices of the escaped prisoners approaching.
Jack couldn't lose this chance to get a running vehicle.
As he sprinted toward the first old car, a run-down Pinto, a small lockbox mounted on the wall nearby in the corner caught his eye. Throwing open the hinged door to the box, he felt his heart burst with relief.
Three sets of keys hung from hooks.
He grabbed the Bronco keys and returned to the Chevy just as the prisoners entered the garage.
Jack turned the keys and the Bronco purred.
He backed the vehicle out of the spot and drove past the prisoners who were descending upon the remaining two cars. Brent ran inside the garage. Jack came to a quick stop, just long enough for Brent to climb in.
Jack turned east down a side street as Brent slammed the door shut and glanced at him.
"Nice work, Jack," Brent said. "It's even better than the Pathfinder."
"Save it for later," Jack said. "For now, be on the lookout for any guards. Be prepared to return fire."
Brent swallowed nervously, then readied his rifle, pointing the barrel skyward out the window. Keeping low, he positioned himself to have a good view of the area outside.
"If you see any groups of women, let me know that too," Jack instructed. "We've got to find Naomi."
Jack turned left and drove north on the next large street.
"There's a big group of people a couple blocks down on the right," Brent said quickly. "Can't tell if they’re friends or foes yet."
Brent's uncertainty was answered quickly as two guards began shooting at the Bronco.
Jack ducked and swerved the vehicle to the left. He aimed his Glock out the window and began shooting in their direction. He knew he didn't have a good vantage point to have any kind of accuracy, but at least it would hold them back a little.
In the passenger seat, Brent opened fire on the group of male guards. As they got closer, the guards stopped shooting as they tried to avoid Brent's return fire. Jack made a quick right on the next street, turning away from the men. The guards made a half-hearted attempt to shoot after the Bronco as it cleared the intersection, but Jack and Brent quickly were out of range.
Brent exhaled roughly. With shaking hands, he reloaded the rifle, then returned to his vigil as they drove through the neighborhood.
"Turn to the left at the next block," Brent said quickly. "I see a bunch of women down there. They're all running out of some building."
Jack followed Brent's instructions and charged down the next street. Sure enough, a group of escaped prisoners were flooding out of a small motel. The women ran frantically out the front door, screaming in terror as guns were being fired from within the building.
Across the street, guards hiding out of sight opened fire on the women. Some of the women were hit, but many more kept running. A few escaped prisoners were armed, and they returned fire on the guards across the street.
The ones who managed to escape fled into the night, disappearing behind buildings or in the shadows of the dark streets.
The scene was alarming. Jack debated what to do. He couldn't drive through the street where the guards were firing – it was too much of a risk. But what if Naomi was in that group?
"I see her!" Brent shouted. "She just ran out of the building!"
Jack saw Naomi slip out of the door and run off to the right, away from the approach of the Bronco. Across the street, the guards kept shooting.
Jack could only do one thing.
He stepped on the gas as he aimed his Glock out the window with his left hand. He began firing toward the guards as he drove. Brent followed his lead and and started to shoot toward the stand of trees where the guards were hiding.
The guards turned their attention to the Bronco headed their way. Jack kept low.
He glanced over toward the motel and watched as Naomi bolted away from the motel, disappearing behind the building.
Jack narrowly avoided being shot as they got closer. A couple of the female prisoners across the street took out a few of the guards, then ran off and escaped into the night.
"Hold on," Jack said to Brent. Jack floored the gas as they passed the cluster of guards. The Bronco was hit a couple of times.
But Jack and Brent were unharmed.
Jack took the next turn quickly and drove up the side street. They were out of range of the guards behind them, but they were far from safe. The street was chaotic, with prisoners and guards running in every direction. A few scattered guards were running away, scattering from the motel.
It seemed like the tide had finally turned. Now, the guards were running for their lives.
Jack slowed as he drove through the dark road. He saw several escaped prisoners running frantically, both men and women. But he didn't see Naomi.
As they crossed the next intersection, he found himself looking at the dead bodies littering the street. The more ground they covered without finding Naomi, the more he worried he might recognize one of those lifeless bodies.
31
Annie felt the brakes lock. She let off the pedal, and the car lurched forward. She corrected the vehicle just in time, straightening it out before it went sailing off the road.
The Porsche slid down the highway another hundred feet before Annie brought it to a complete stop.
She looked over at Charlotte.
"Are you okay?" Annie asked breathlessly.
Charlotte turned to her with widened eyes. "I think so."
Annie sat quietly, trying to calm her shakiness.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Everything just got out of control back there."
Charlotte nodded uneasily. Then she looked up and saw a large brick home perched on a hill off the highway to the left. "Is that it?"
Annie glanced up at
the house. "That's it."
They had just passed the driveway. Annie put the car in reverse and backed up to where the front of the vehicle was in line with the gravel entrance. She came to a stop, staring at the house.
It looked empty, but they were a few hundred yards away and too far to get a good look. Annie glanced at the SUV that had been abandoned in the middle of the road nearby.
"Well, are we going to go in?" Charlotte asked wearily.
Annie nodded. "Yeah, but I don't like that SUV."
Charlotte scoffed. "I don't like it either, because we nearly ran off the road dodging it. But does that mean we have to sit here staring at it?"
Annie studied the vehicle, noting its polished exterior and luxury finishes. "They broke down out here when the EMP hit."
"Yeah. So?"
"Where did they go when they left the car behind?"
Charlotte swallowed, looking back at the SUV. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, then looked up at the house.
"You think they're inside?" Charlotte asked in a whisper.
Annie glanced down at the pistol.
“I guess we’re about to find out,” she said.
Finally, she shifted the car into first gear and began to climb the long driveway.
She was tired of running. She was going to face whatever came her way head on. It was her husband's house, after all. No one else had any right to be there. She wasn't going to cower away from any squatters.
She would get them off the ranch, or die trying.
"You wait here," she told Charlotte. "I'm going to check the place out first."
Annie grabbed the pistol and got out of the car. She took a long look at the house, then walked up to the front door. It was locked.
With her heart pounding, she edged along the front yard toward the barn in the back. She knew her .22 was no match for a larger gun, and certainly not multiple guns. But she pushed herself on.
The barn was just as it had been left last time. She walked in to the large, open structure and headed for a small tackle box on a shelf. Rummaging through the odds and ends, she came upon the key that was kept hidden in the box. Placing it in her palm, she clenched it tightly as she returned to the house.
Fear was beginning to cloud her judgment now, and she considered getting in the car and driving off.
No, you're not going to run away this time.
She unlocked the door, and stepped into the dark, quiet house.
"Hello!" she called.
Her voice echoed through the halls.
She walked through the living room and kitchen. So far, nothing was out of place. She went upstairs, checking each bedroom.
The house was empty.
She walked toward the window in the master bedroom and looked outside where the SUV was stranded on the highway.
The driver must have walked somewhere else when they broke down. Maybe they lived nearby, and they had been able to make it home.
Finally, something had gone right.
Annie knew she should go down and get Charlotte, but she couldn't resist collapsing in the bed for just a moment.
She had finally made it.
She had finally reached freedom. She felt her body loosen its knots – all the tight spots she hadn't even realized she had been carrying the last few days.
But as the tension began to gradually fade, sadness took its place. Jack wasn't there.
Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, she pushed herself to her feet and went downstairs.
Outside the house, Charlotte looked at her expectantly.
"All clear!" Annie announced.
Charlotte looked relieved. She opened her car door and Annie helped her to her feet. As Charlotte slowly hobbled inside the house, Annie brought the luggage inside.
Charlotte looked around the living room and the stairs that led to the bedrooms on the second floor. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not tackle the stairs just yet."
"I don't mind at all," Annie said, helping her friend to lie down on the couch. "You can sleep here for now."
Annie finished bringing their things inside, then retrieved a large first aid kit from the bathroom.
"Time to change your dressings," Annie said as she sat on the floor at Charlotte's side.
As Annie worked, she answered Charlotte's questions about the house and the area. Charlotte had never spent much time in the Hill Country.
"All done," Annie said as she collected the empty bandage wrappers. "Your wounds are still pretty raw. But hopefully you'll be able to heal better now that we're in a more stable place."
Charlotte smiled. "Thanks, Annie. And thanks for bringing me out here. I may not always agree with your methodology, but I have to hand it to you. You got us out here when I never thought it was possible."
Annie smiled back at her friend. "You're welcome. Thanks for coming along for the ride."
She collapsed in the recliner nearby, curling her legs up. She glanced at Charlotte, who looked considerably less stressed. But Annie couldn't help noticing a sadness on Charlotte's face. They had fought so hard to get here, but their struggles were far from over. Charlotte knew just as well as Annie did that they weren't fully prepared to defend themselves.
Annie looked out the window at the magnolia tree in the front yard. She remembered Jack's childhood stories about playing with his brother, Paul, around that tree.
"Jack's going to get here," Charlotte said. "It might take him a while, but he'll show up. He loves you too much not to find a way."
Annie nodded. "I know," she said quietly.
Feeling tears welling up, she closed her eyes shut.
Unfortunately, love wasn't always enough. Maybe things in LA had gotten out of control. As painful as it was, Annie couldn't live her life waiting for Jack to return. No matter how much it hurt, she would have to find a way to carry on without him.
32
"Where is she?" Brent asked nervously as he rode in the Bronco through the dark streets.
Jack scanned the left side of the road as he drove. "She couldn't have gotten very far."
"Naomi!" Brent called toward a cluster of buildings off to the side. Scattered prisoners moved across the parking lot, but none of them responded to Brent's call.
Jack knew they needed to flee the area quickly. There were still guards roaming about. Though the fighting had quieted down somewhat, gunshots still echoed through the town all around them. He turned down a side street where he saw several prisoners escaping to the east.
He spotted a petite woman running across the street, driven by fear and urgency.
Could it be her?
They were still too far away to tell. Jack picked up speed as the woman crossed the street and began to run down the sidewalk.
As he drove the truck closer, the woman turned around to glance at the approaching vehicle. The headlights shone across her face.
"It's her!" Brent said. "Naomi!"
The woman stopped, and Jack got a better look at her. Brent was right. They had finally found Naomi.
She stared at the Bronco, bewildered and blinded by the headlamps. Jack drove forward a bit, then came to a stop as Brent leaned out the window.
"It's us!" Brent exclaimed. "Get in!"
Recognition and relief washed over her face, and she lunged at the backseat door. She opened it and flung herself inside. Jack took off as she slammed the door shut.
Brent twisted around and grinned at her. Jack looked at her in the rearview mirror. She was shaken, but smiling. She sat there, catching her breath and taking it all in.
"I can't believe we found you!" Brent said. "They've got at least three women's prisons. We’ve been all over town searching for you."
"I can't believe it either!" Naomi said. "But how did you get out? They took you to C Block, Jack – how did you possibly escape? And how did you get this truck?"
"We're not out yet," Jack said. "We still have to make it out of this town without being shot."
Brent swivel
ed around to face the front and returned to his vigil at the window. "All I can say is, it was hell," Brent said in response to Naomi’s questions as he readied himself.
"Are you okay, Naomi?" Jack asked, glancing at her in the mirror again.
Naomi nodded. "I think so. All things considered."
Jack continued east. As they crossed a main thoroughfare, a commotion to the south caught their attention. Another prison breakout was happening in the large hotel several blocks to the right.
Prisoners were attacking the guards. Jack saw several men running out from the hotel, whooping and hollering as they ran to freedom.
Everywhere in White Rock, the captured were breaking free. The momentum Jack had started by escaping, and what he and Brent had continued by attacking the guards, had started an uprising. Jack knew the gang's time was up. They were rapidly losing their strongholds and their power with every passing minute. Soon, justice would be restored to the city, in one way or another.
After a few blocks heading east through a residential neighborhood, Jack turned left, to the north.
"We've got about a mile till we get to the interstate," Jack said, focusing on the road. "They might have guards posted at the interstate trying to keep us from leaving the city, so everyone be ready. Get down as much as you can."
As they came within a few blocks of the interstate, Jack tensed up once more. Next to him, Brent steadied his rifle.
"Look! They're running away!" Naomi said from the backseat.
And sure enough, a band of a about fifteen guards were running underneath the interstate overpass, toward the devastated downtown area.
"They're escaping!" Brent said, frustrated. "Shouldn't we go after them? We can't let them get away. Not after everything they've done to us."
Jack watched them scurry away. Some of them were carrying a rifle or a handgun, but most of them had no weapons he could see. They were trying to make a clean break, and they looked over their shoulders as they ran.