Hideaway (Book 2): An Emp Thriller

by Hayden, Roger

  Julian suddenly stepped away, excited and waving his arms overhead like a pendulum. “People, people. Stop. Listen. James is ready to speak.”

  The bags lay below on the ground, open, with their contents spilling out. One of the men looked up at Julian with saucer eyes, barely able to contain himself. “There must be two months of supplies in these bags!” he shouted.

  A man rifled through the end bag with great enthusiasm. His eager search came to a halt when he found a shiny, metallic object stuffed inside under everything else.

  The sheriff suddenly called out to James in an urgent tone. “Before you say anything, James. Get down.”

  James stared at him, oblivious. “What?”

  The man below suddenly pulled out the shiny object in both hands and held it up. “What's this, a pressure cooker?”

  James and Sheriff Davis locked eyes a second after, and instantly, James knew what was about to happen. The sheriff and his men suddenly rushed away to the nearest snowbank across the road, taking cover. Julian and his men looked perplexed from the lookout. One of the men pulled out another pressure cooker from the next bag, staring at his reflection in its shiny surface. A deafening explosion followed in an instant, launching a ball of fire as six different bombs exploded at once, rupturing the entire area.

  The blast sheared through every First Order guard nearby and blew them to pieces. James flew to the ground, face inches from the concrete as flames rose to the upper ledge and the impact threw back Julian and his men. Half of the building entrance was blown out in a second. Bricks, concrete, pipes, limbs, and organs covered the red-soaked ground. Tremors traveled through the building.

  James stayed down with his arms over his head as black smoke consumed the lookout. Distant gunfire sounded from all around the prison. James waited for the worst of the smoke to pass before rising, half wondering if his hearing had been blown out. His watering eyes stung as he waved away the smoke, coughing and gasping and desperately trying to recover his breath. The outside of the building was burning in leaping, white-hot blue flames. He looked to the front gate and saw the sheriff and his men break through. Once inside, they charged the prison like soldiers on a battlefield.

  They immediately began firing their guns at First Order men who emerged from the wreckage, disoriented and unprepared for the onslaught that followed. James watched in amazement as his ears started ringing like a dozen canons had gone off. He turned to his side and watched uneasily as Brant got up, face blackened from the smoke and bleeding from his face and chest. Their eyes met as Brant pulled a knife from his hip sheath, unable to find his rifle. He charged at James without warning. For a moment, everything felt like slow motion. James grasped both of Brant's arms, struggling as the edge of the dagger came within inches of his face. They grunted, pushing against each other. James could feel his momentum slowing. Brant heaved, getting closer.

  “Going to... kill you...” he said, blood foaming at his mouth.

  They pressed against the ledge as smoke flowed into the air from below. A cacophony of gunfire erupted from all around. James had no idea who was winning, who was losing. He only knew that he was in the fight of his life. As they battled, back and forth, against each other, Brant was gym-built and in good shape. James shifted his feet to the side, inching away from the ledge.

  At that moment, he spun around, slipping out of reach. Brant lunged forward and lost his balance just as James pushed him from behind and over the ledge. He flew down with a scream that was cut short the moment he hit the concrete below. James looked over and saw him lying in the rubble of the blast, motionless among the carnage. The sheriff's crew advanced as gunfire raged from all over courtyard. It was hard to tell who was winning or losing as guns fired, bodies dropped, and the screams never stopped. James turned just in time to see Devin standing behind him with a rifle pointed at his head.

  “You son of a bitch,” Devin seethed, bleeding from his forehead, his hair covered in ash. “I should have killed you in the beginning.”

  James closed his eyes. Nothing would keep Devin from pulling the trigger. He heard the blast, a loud, abrupt gunshot, followed by a stream of blood spraying all over James's face. He opened his eyes, surprised to still be standing. Devin fell back and collapsed to the ground, a piece of his skull missing. James spun around to see the sheriff below, his rifle aimed to the place where Devin had been standing.

  The sheriff gave James a quick nod and then ducked behind one of the old crates and took aim again. James knelt to retrieve Devin's rifle when he felt a hard kick in the face delivered by Julian's heavy boot. Falling to the ground in agony, James landed right next to Brant's knife. He grabbed it, pulled himself up as quickly as possible, and was face to face with Julian. There was nothing more at that moment. He took a step back, brandishing the knife and ready to use it.

  “Still have some fight left in you, eh?” Julian said. His own knife was ready for the contest.

  “It's over!” James said.

  “Nothing is over,” Julian said in defiance, bleeding too, oddly enough from his entire mouth. He sprinted forward and lunged at James in the throes of primal rage. James raised his left arm as the blade came down, quickly and with immense force, plunging into his side. The sudden rush of pain was a startling, almost paralyzing sensation. With one reflexive thrust, he drove Brant's knife directly into the side of Julian's neck, all the way to the handle. Julian's arm went limp as he stumbled back, gagging. With adrenaline pumping, James glanced at the knife still sticking out of his arm and pulled it out without a second thought.

  For a moment, he felt nothing until a small geyser of blood flowed from the wound. The pain hammered from his shoulder down through his leg. He tried not to look at it as he knelt next to Devin's corpse and pulled off his jacket, wrapping his arm tightly as quickly as he could.

  He heard Julian fall and looked over to find him in the corner of the ledge, a wild, shocked expression on his face. He tried to talk but could only gurgle on the dark red blood that poured from his mouth and neck and collected at the back of his throat.

  James backed away, keeping a cautious eye on the dying cult leader. At any minute, he expected another one of his men to come rushing up the stairs, and James had little fight left in him. Then, just as feared, he heard footsteps coming closer and the door suddenly swung open. James ducked and grabbed Devin's rifle, aiming it up as a man rushed through the smoky haze with purpose, coming right for him. James's finger went for the trigger when a voice shouted for him to wait. As he hesitated, the sheriff emerged, sweeping the area with his rifle. James tossed his weapon to the ground and fell back with an exhausted sigh.

  “James!” Davis called out.

  He stumbled to his feet while holding the bloody coat around his arm.

  “Are you okay?” Davis asked, looking at him with concern.

  James nodded as the sheriff looked around in surprise. Devin lay dead at his feet with Julian still gagging in the corner, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

  “Pressure cooker bombs?” James said in amazement. “How the hell did you pull that off?”

  “Timing is everything,” the sheriff said with a smile. He then placed a hand on James's shoulder. “Let's go.”

  James followed as they left the lookout ledge, stepping over the two bodies. They traveled downstairs and out the front where the explosion had ripped through the building. The sheriff continued through the front gate as the gunfire died out in the distance. “I've got teams breaching the prison from all sides. This isn't going to end well for our prison friends.”

  “Are you going to kill them all?” James asked. He wasn't sure why, but the notion bothered him.

  “Not if we can prevent it,” the sheriff said. “I'd gladly lock them back up if it comes to that.”

  James turned toward the prison and saw a small team rushing from the side. He blinked, thinking he recognized one of the men. As they got closer, he saw that the man with the white beard was no stranger.
/>
  “Larry! Oh my God!” James rushed over as they met up. He threw his arms around Larry, hugging him. Larry stumbled back, somewhat surprised. “It's good to see you too, James,” he said, patting his back.

  James backed away and looked at Larry in amazement as Carol suddenly emerged at his side. “Carol!” he shouted, pushing past Larry and hugging her tightly. “How did you guys...? I thought--” He was too surprised to talk.

  “We heard those bastards got you,” Carol said.

  “And we weren't going to let that stand,” Larry added.

  The sheriff stepped forward and asked them for a status. Larry then explained that most of the prison was secured with minimum casualties. “I think we took them completely by surprise.” He added.

  Davis nudged James again. “Come on. Someone is waiting to see you.”

  James turned away, thanking Larry and Carol profusely, as he followed the sheriff outside the gate. Davis explained how they had strategized for weeks, trying to develop a foolproof plan to free him. “We weren't going to let you rot here, James,” he explained. “Our only hope was that they wouldn't kill you in the meantime.” His words began to fade as James looked across the road and saw Marla standing on a concrete embankment near the icy ravine. She looked straight at him, and rushed toward each other, leaving cracks in the thin ice and then footsteps through the snow. They collided and threw their arms around each other in grateful relief. Marla cried, and James couldn't help himself either. She kissed him all over his face as he stroked her hair, not wanting to let her go.

  “I'm so glad to see you,” she said. “I thought about you every minute, every day, every night.”

  “Me too,” James said. They opened their eyes and looked at each other with big smiles across their faces. Before they could say another word, they heard a convoy of loud engines rumbling down the road. They turned to see military trucks approaching from the distance. A helicopter droned through the air above them, passing by. James looked at Marla, curious, and then turned to the sheriff who was standing nearby. “Are these friends of yours?”

  “Not mine,” he said, equally surprised.

  “Maybe they're here to help us,” Marla said, tears streaming from her eyes. The trucks got louder as they closed in, slowing toward the prison.

  “This could be it,” James said. “The help we've been waiting for.”

  “Is this over?” Marla asked.

  “I don't know,” he said, stroking her chin with his thumb. “It could be the beginning of something different.”

  Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story!

  Writing has always been a passion of mine and it’s incredibly gratifying and rewarding whenever you give me an opportunity to let you escape from your everyday surroundings and entertain the world that is your imagination.

  As an indie author, Amazon reviews can have a huge impact on my livelihood. So if you enjoyed the story please leave a review letting me and the rest of the digital world know. And if there was anything you found troubling, please email me. Your feedback helps improve my work, and allows me to continue writing stories that will promise to thrill and excite in the future. But be sure to exclude any spoilers.

  I would love if you could take a second to leave a review: Click here to leave a review on Amazon!

  Again, thank you so much for letting me into your world. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it!

  About the Author

  Sign up for updates, free content, and deeply discounted books! Click Here!