by Olah, Jeff
“I’m watching him on the monitor and will keep varying the temperatures to make sure he stays with us… If the others aren’t back in an hour, I’ll raise it a few degrees. I’ll make sure he stays with us at least until they return.”
. . .
Thirty minutes from where they stood at the center of the highway to the gates of Blackmore and Randy just wanted to get back on the road. Abraham and his son Garrett continued to trade small talk with Mason as the younger of the two looked back toward the horde every ten seconds. His father recognized this, sent him back to the truck, asking him to stay there.
With his son out of earshot, Abraham said goodbye and leaned forward to shake hands. In pulling Mason in close he said. “I can’t say too much, although there are three men on the overpass that are watching us. They are using my son and I as decoys and they want us to…” A single gunshot cracked in the distance and a half second later Abraham crumbled to the ground.
149
Moving quickly backward as shots rained out from somewhere along the overpass, he scrambled out of the way, pulled his weapon and returned fire. Mason felt his focus shift to the overpass and his adrenaline surge as he pulled the door open and ducked in behind. Sliding his weapon between the door and the frame, he fired three quick rounds before jumping back in behind the wheel. His ears hummed and the scent of scorched gunpowder trailed him inside as he shifted into reverse and shoved the gas pedal to the floor, rocketing the SUV backward.
Randy grabbed the pack and in following suit, laid down cover fire as rounds launched from the overpass continued to streak toward the SUV. The highway exploded all around them with tiny beads of asphalt ricocheting against the exterior. Three rounds tore into the SUV and Megan’s voice echoed throughout the close quarters as she struggled to buckle herself into the passenger seat. “Mason, please get us out of here…”
Three more rounds from the overpass and the windshield exploded, glass shards pouring into the vehicle. Mason let off the gas and returned fire through the opening as Megan cried out… her left arm on fire. She’d been hit. The bullet tore through the edge of her triceps and embedded itself in the center console. Slowly reaching out for Mason, she laid her head against the side of his seat and blinked through her weakening vision.
Pushing Lockwood to the floor of the backseat, Randy reached into the rear compartment and withdrew one of three rifles. He lowered his window and as the SUV rolled to a stop he fired round after round into the three foot wall guarding the men on the overpass. Twenty seconds passed with no return fire and looking through the scope he was able to make out one of the individuals crawling toward the exit. Lining up the shot as the man on the overpass attempted to get a glimpse of where the attack was coming from; Randy pulled back on the trigger, eliminating the first target.
Rising from his seat, Lockwood reached for his daughter. “Megan…”
Mason had already torn free a portion of Megan’s sleeve and handed it to her father. “She’s hit, but it’s not bad, she’ll be ok till we get back.”
Waiting for their aggressors’ next move. Mason turned to Randy, still attempting to sight the others. “Mason, how many you suppose?”
Mason again carefully guided the SUV backward into an outcropping of trees along the left shoulder and out of range of the mystery gunmen for the moment. “That man said there were three, whadda ya think?”
“One of them is down for sure, although the others must be… Wait… wait a second, what on earth is that boy doing?”
Garrett, the young man they’d been introduced to only moments ago, now drove the truck he’d been sitting in for the last sixty seconds onto the exit and headed for the overpass. Rebounding off the barricade, he inadvertently knocked the gate off its hinges and in turn let free hundreds of Feeders who rushed the overpass. The two men hidden behind the three foot wall leapt from their positions and began running toward the opposite end.
With the overpass completely exceeding its capacity, Garrett turned the truck left and began driving over and through the massive horde, although now also having to avoid the gunfire that erupted at the other end. With their immediate focus elsewhere, Mason shifted the idling SUV into drive and slammed the gas pedal to the floorboard, while avoiding the man who lay dead at the center of the highway.
That kid in the truck was in the process of committing suicide. Mason recognized the face and remembered that walk, he’d seen it before and up until this very moment it annoyed him that he had no idea where. The boy, Garrett who’d been introduced only minutes before was indeed a police officer, of that he was certain. So, the story told by his father was at least partially true. Although not a boy, Garrett’s youthful appearance told a different story, one that Mason had a difficult time recalling even though it played out only weeks before.
. . .
Racing from his apartment the morning the world changed, Mason was determined to return to April for the discussion he’d avoided the night before. Her father wouldn’t have been there and he’d be free to explain to her how their time apart was killing him.
Rounding the corner to the street that led into their development and only paying attention to the time, he never saw the patrol car sitting on the shoulder. Mason should have known better. Week days at this time of year, there was usually at least one officer stationed somewhere between the two schools and today was no different. He heard he squawk just as he spotted April standing on the corner watching their son cross the street.
Rolling to a stop at the end of the drop off line and more than ten cars back, he watched as the officer waved him to the side of the road and out of the way. He obliged and while waiting for the patrolman to make his way over, shook his head at the sight of his phone vibrating. For the third time in the last ten minutes, he avoided a call from his father-in-law. There was never anything good that came from a conversation with that man, especially this morning.
His window already down and the engine now silent, he continued to watch his wife standing at the corner, sipping her coffee. This was something he’d witnessed more times than he could remember, although today he wanted it to be his everyday sight once again.
“License and registration please.”
Handing over the needed documentation, Mason thought to himself, There is no way this kid is old enough to be a cop. “Here you go officer. I guess I missed the stop sign?”
“You should know better, this is a school zone.”
As he walked back to his patrol car, Mason checked the time on his phone. “Really… you’ve got to be kidding me, today of all days?” He would have been cutting it close stopping to see her this morning without any delays, although with this setback, it may have to wait until his break between clients at lunch.
Watching her smile, wave, and turn back toward the house, he shook his head. He’d wanted to catch her before she returned home and now with the growing line of cars as his adversary wrote him a ticket, he gave up hope that it would happen this morning. The officer returned with his ticket and court date ten minutes later. Not only had he missed his wife, he now had to fight the school traffic back to work.
He’d return; it wasn’t his initial plan, although April typically wouldn’t head out for another few hours and he’d catch her then. It was going to happen today, as he had no intention of spending another night away from her… or his son.
. . .
Was it possible that he was now watching the officer from that day charging across the overpass toward his own death? Common sense told him it had to be someone else, although his instinct told him otherwise. The person who prevented him from seeing his wife and child almost three weeks ago was now about to save his life.
“We’re going home.”
150
Her head whipping back, Megan came to just as the bodies began to fall. Twenty feet from the overpass and no room to stop, the first three dropped twenty plus feet to the ground below. Feeders exploded as they slammed into the asphalt with such f
orce that the shockwaves could almost be felt inside the SUV as they charged forward. Megan sat up and braced her hands against the dash, recoiling as the white hot pain shot from elbow to shoulder.
Veering left to avoid the falling horde, Mason inadvertently drove straight into the next two bodies. The first landed dead center on the hood, crushing any unbroken bones left in its severely damaged carcass. As it clawed its way back to life and turned toward the busted windshield, Mason pulled the pistol from his lap, shoved it through the opening and with one blast, eliminated the threat.
The second creature to make contact with the SUV had a bit more size and hit the SUV just above the backseats, blowing out the back window and folding in the roof along the driver’s side. As Randy turned, he witnessed the tail end of Lockwood being forced by the crushing weight down into the seat, the damage already done. The SUV had taken the brunt of the fall, although the transferred energy slammed the interior into the left side of Lockwood’s head, the accompanying three-inch gash was left as his consolation prize.
Acting on instinct, Randy covered Lockwood with an oversized blanket from the back and fired four rounds through the roof as the Feeder fought to claw its way into the speeding SUV. As they were moving away from the overpass, he called for Mason to stop. Slamming on the brakes did nothing to remove the beast from the roof. It attempted to pull itself down and into the shattered window nearest Lockwood, so Randy stepped out, rounded the vehicle and pulled it to the asphalt, pouring the remaining rounds into its skull.
Tossing his weapon aside, he checked on Lockwood and then Megan before returning to Mason. Standing at the driver’s door, Randy looked over what they’d just gone through and then back to the open road ahead. “Mason, we’re not stopping again until we hit the gates at Blackmore, I don’t care if the President himself orders it, you don’t stop… we good?”
. . .
With the sun running out of the sky and the hope that what he’d done had actually worked, Sean raised the temperature in the basement another few degrees and pulled camera number thirty two in tight on Goodwin. Even with the exceptionally high resolution the video feed had to offer, he had trouble making out the difference between respirations and spasms. He was sure Marcus Goodwin still drew breath, although he wasn’t sure how much longer that would happen.
Satisfied that their prisoner would live for at least another hour, Sean took his hourly trip through the remaining interior and exterior video feeds, only pausing at each long enough to scan for changes. He prayed silently with each pass that the rear gate was still intact. From where he sat, it appeared the horde may break through at any time, regardless of what Randy assured them before he left.
Switching to the feeds that ran images from the front half of the facility, Sean’s eyes widened at the sight beyond the front gate. The beaten SUV stood just outside the gates waiting for access, Mason now exiting the driver’s door. His initial reaction of how anyone else inside the vehicle could have survived was tempered as his father, clutching the left side of his face, exited the rear, followed by Randy and finally his sister.
“They’re back… my dad is here!”
Firing off the commands at a rapid pace, Sean opened up Building One and ran for the door, before stopping and smiling at Eleanor. “I’m going to get my dad. Can you let Savannah know they’re here?
With the gates open and Randy taking watch, the group moved into the courtyard. Mason began unloading the supplies as Savannah and Eleanor emerged from Building One. Her distress wasn’t immediately apparent, although as soon as she locked eyes with her cousin, Savannah broke down. She dropped to her knees as she reached him and pointed to Building Six. Although her words were a bit jumbled, the message was crystal clear. Marcus Goodwin had somehow returned and he had taken another life.
Retrieving a pistol from the bags he’d only moments ago unloaded, Mason handed another to Randy and without thought both men marched toward the rear of the facility. How had all this taken place within the span of a single day, how was he alive and how’d he get here? The answers mattered less to Mason than exacting revenge for his family. In sixty seconds, he’d be free.
Quickly going over the details and giving his father an abbreviated version of the horrible acts that had taken place at the facility, Sean pointed out that although the man locked in the basement was responsible for countless lives lost here at Blackmore, he couldn’t kill him. He easily could have taken one of the many weapons within Building Six and shot the man where he lay, although he didn’t. Apologizing to the others, he told of how he’d taken a man’s life to save his sister and vowed to never again become that person. Sean wasn’t going to live another day like that, even at the cost of his own life.
The pitch in his voice not previously heard by either man, Eugene Lockwood shouted at the pair as they started for the building in which they intended to execute Marcus Goodwin. “MASON… RANDY, PLEASE WAIT!”
Mason turned first. “What… what is it that you have to say that cannot wait another few minutes?”
Lockwood paused for a moment as Mason strode back to the group much quicker than he’d left. “Mason, I just think we may want to take inventory of the day, tend to the injured and then decide as a group what to do with him and where to place our anger.”
Stepping forward, Randy agreed. “Mason you already know how I feel; there’s no hiding it. That man is going to die today, I guarantee it. Although if we get rid of him now, we lose any chance to question him. He may have information we need and trust me; I have no issues with doing what needs to be done to get it.”
Motioning toward the back door of Building One, Lockwood said, “Let’s go inside and discuss the plan. I’m not here to tell you how to run this place. I have much bigger fish to fry and the sooner I start the better. Whatever decision you all make will be just that… your decision. I just think we may need a bit of perspective.”
“Perspective, you want perspective?” His hand clutched the pistol with such force he imagined the textured grip giving way under the pressure and as Mason continued, his upper lip began to quiver. “The man sitting in that building murdered my wife and my father-in-law in cold blood. He was also responsible for ending my son’s life. He brought hell to this mountain and killed multiple employees of this facility and even a few of his own. Marcus Goodwin is as evil as anything this earth has produced and I’m going to kill him. I don’t care what information he has. I don’t want it. If any of you can think of a reason why he should live… just try to stop me.”
151
No one followed Mason as he turned and walked across the main courtyard. Within seconds his frustrated yells could be heard as the others filed into the Command Center. Building Six was locked down and unless Sean granted access, no one would enter or exit. Lockwood took his daughter to the one area where they’d be guaranteed supplies to treat one another’s injuries and once in The Cage, he saw to it that her wound was cleaned and properly sewn up. Megan returned the favor as she painfully attempted to explain the gruesome details of her two-week ordeal. She also gave as much information as she could remember about what took place at Blackmore before she and Sean arrived at the front gates.
As the others watched, Mason attempt to obliterate the entrance to Building Six by emptying two loaded weapons into the door, Randy sat at the back of the room, deciding how to help. He occasionally moved to the monitors to check on his friend, although he felt this was something Mason needed to go through alone. Over the next thirty minutes, he watched as Mason filtered through varying levels of rage, eventually finding a seat on the bench adjacent to the entrance he so desperately wanted to destroy, his conviction slowly waning.
As Megan and her father entered the Command Center, the others sat up, taking notice that something had changed. Megan was visibly excited, although her father appeared no different than thirty minutes before. Dr. Lockwood motioned to the hall and asked Randy to follow. Closing the door behind them, they made their way to the
exit and spoke only briefly before heading in opposite directions.
The others congregated around the bank of monitors and watched as Randy made a beeline for his friend who remained on the concrete bench. Every single person in the room wondered the same thing, although no one asked. Sean was the only person in the room with an understanding of how the system operated and if he hadn’t thought to try to capture the audio of their meeting, the others would figure it couldn’t be done. Not a sound was made by the four individuals occupying the room and as Sean pulled in tight on the two men, Eleanor, Megan and Savannah collectively held their breath.
Dr. Lockwood leaned into the room and asked that Sean lock the Command Center down for the next few hours and to stay put until he came back. On the video feed from the courtyard, they watched intently as Randy approached Mason, both hands at his side. Not waiting for his friend to make eye contact, Randy’s animated movements indicated some sort of an apology, followed by what appeared to be a request that finally got his friend’s attention. Moving back three paces, Randy waited for his friend to stand and pointed back toward the main building. Mason turned from Randy, quickly heading toward Building One, each step more deliberate than the one before.
All eyes stayed on the duo as they moved from the monitor and in through the doorway, passing just outside the room the others waited in. Mason was closely followed by Randy and neither man made eye contact with the others as they strode out of sight and into the makeshift surgical room, they’d been told was nicknamed The Cage.
Before Dr. Lockwood was fully aware they’d entered the building, Mason charged in and, startling even Randy, slammed his hand on the metal table. “WHY WOULD I HELP YOU?” He shouted.
As the others were riveted by what they were witnessing, Sean sat back in his chair and watched his father move to the camera. “I need to speak to Mason and Randy in private. Please disable the audio and video feeds from this room immediately.” The women turned to Sean as he bit his lower lip and shut down all access to the room.