Carol rushed toward her bedroom, kicking the first bottle out of the way as it rolled away, flame circling from the rag stuffed inside. The room smelled of kerosene and fire, a crude combination of a Molotov cocktail. Larry ran between them and doused the spreading flames, trying his best to put out the fire. Though no one knew who was attacking them or why, James feared the worst. “No,” he said, pulling Marla close. “It's impossible.”
“What is it?” she asked. Without warning, a third Molotov cocktail launched through the window, exploding onto the kitchen table. Larry circled the living room, overwhelmed and spraying. Carol reemerged with a loaded rifle in one hand and two pistols in the other. She halted halfway, shocked to see the flames rising throughout their quaint living room and kitchen. Larry urged her to stay back as he struggled with the increasing fire. James pulled Marla toward the hallway, watching the chaotic scene unfold.
“Where are we going?” Marla asked in a panicked tone.
He stopped and whipped his head around, eyes widened. “Get your stuff, and let's get out of here.” He continued down the hall, pulling her arm as she stumbled with resistance. He called out to Larry and Carol to follow. The only way out that he knew of was the window in his and Marla's bedroom. And it was their only chance of escape. He caught a glimpse of Carol as she moved past Larry, ignoring his pleas to stay down, and fired multiple shots outside the window. The startling gun blasts sent Marla to the floor, covering her ears. James backed against the wall, feeling his body shake. Carol fired shot after shot, kneeling at the window. Though prepared, James had a disturbing premonition of things to come.
Larry shouted at Carol to get away from the window as he tried to control the spreading fire. She fired several rounds in quick succession, drowning out his voice. James came to his senses and lifted Marla up, pulling her toward the bedroom. The window was in clear view. All they had to do was run. He brought Marla to the bed and released her. As she fell, he dashed toward the dresser and threw open drawers, pulling their clothes out.
“What are you doing?” she shouted.
“Packing our stuff!” he shouted pack, furiously stuffing things into their luggage.
A barrage gunfire followed from the front, shattering what was left of the windows and tearing apart the cabin. The sporadic pops sent James and Marla to the floor, covering their heads. An eerie pause followed. Marla screamed. James crawled over and shielded her the best he could. Just when he thought the worst was over, more shots rang out, blasting through the cabin door and all around the front. For a moment, he was feared that Larry and Carol were dead. He heard nothing from them, nothing but Marla's cries.
“It's okay,” he said, arms wrapped around her. “We can make it.” His own pistol was resting on the nightstand. Their cash and everything else they owned was haphazardly packed inside his open suitcase with clothes strewn about. “You wait here. Just for a second,” continued.
“No,” she said, pulling him closer to the floor. “Don't leave.”
He looked into her widened, terrified eyes. “I'm just going to check on them. Then we go. You have to finish packing. Leave nothing behind.” He turned and crawled away against her repeated objections. He crawled hands and knees out the door and through the hallway. He then went to his chest and low-crawled on his elbows to the end of the hall. The gunfire had ceased, and for a moment, everything was quiet. Small patches of fire burned throughout the living room. Near the couch, he saw Larry and Carol lying on their stomachs.
“Oh no...” he muttered with a gasp. “It can't be.”
Suddenly, both their heads looked up as Larry pulled her closer, whispering for her to stay quiet. James's momentary relief turned to dread once he heard a voice call out to them from outside.
“All right, you all had your fun. Now, come on out of the cabin, unarmed, and no one will get hurt!”
James watched Larry and Carol for their reaction, but they seemed to be in too much shock to make a move. He crawled back and looked inside the bedroom. Marla stood frozen at the bed over an open suitcase with clothes in her hands.
“Don't make us come in there and drag you out,” the man's voice continued, deep and authoritative. “We ain't going to hurt ya', now. Just want to have a talk.”
James called out to Larry in an intense, hushed tone. “What are we going to do?”
Larry lay his head back, a pistol in both hands. He then signaled down the hall, and James knew exactly what he meant. Lying close to the floor, they began crawling toward James.
“We've got the cabin surrounded!” the voice said as though privy to their plan. “Don't think about coming out nowhere but that front door. And keep your hands up!”
Marla suddenly screamed from the bedroom and came rushing out. “There's a man out there! He tapped his gun against the window.” She went to her knees near James as he pulled her near. Larry and Carol stopped in the middle of the living room upon the collapse of their escape plan. Glass shards covered the floor around them. Flames grew atop the kitchen table. The entire room was riddled with bullet holes. James thought it a miracle that no one had been hit.
“Don't make me count to five!” the voice shouted. “I'm getting sick of playing nice.”
James slowly rose from the floor, feeling the weight of defeat. He couldn't say for sure who the men were surrounding their cabin, but he had a good idea. He just couldn't figure out how they had found the place. “Let's just go out there,” he said to the room.
Larry sat up and stared at him with angry eyes as though he was crazy. Carol soon followed, grabbing the rifle from the glass-covered floor. “We don't know how many are out there. Could be one or two.”
“It could be twenty,” James said. He leaned in closer, trying to come clean at least somewhat with what had transpired that day. “Listen. I was going to tell you guys. There's a prison not far from here.”
“Yeah, I know that,” Larry said defiantly.
“Well, thanks for telling us,” James snapped. For a moment, he felt as though he was in the right, but that was hardly the case. Had he led the men there, or had they found the cabin just by chance?
“Are they from the prison?” Carol asked, looking between Larry and James.
“That's what I wanted to say earlier,” James continued. “I...” Their faces were on him, waiting for an explanation. “I ran into some escaped prisoners. It could be the same group. I don't know.”
Larry's confusion morphed into rage with the reddening of his face. “What in the holy hell are you talking about?”
“Five seconds!” the voice shouted. He then began counting as James rose to his feet. If there was any other way, he didn't know it.
“We can bargain,” James said. “Give them whatever they want.”
“To hell with that,” Carol said.
Marla remained crouched low to the floor, her face awash in confusion and fear. The five-second countdown ended to silence both inside and outside the cabin. James watched the windows, heart racing and sweat pouring down his forehead.
“All right!” the voice continued. “We're going to light the place up. Can't say that I didn't warn ya'!”
Larry rose up in an instant. “We'll come out!” he announced, hands cupped to his mouth. He then helped Carol to her feet as they brushed bits of glass from the front of their clothes.
“We can't...” Marla said, hunched down. “They'll kill us.”
Larry turned to her with a somberness in his tone. “It'll be okay. Let me handle this.”
James pulled Marla up as the two couples stood in the demolished living room, where only moments ago, they were having a quiet dinner. Larry took a deep breath and marched toward the door, announcing to whomever was out there that they were coming out.
“Unarmed!” the man's voice reminded them.
Carol stopped and gently placed the rifle under the couch as though it pained her. Larry followed suit and hid the pistols under there as well. They walked to the door as a group and waited as
Larry opened it. The outside darkness at first was deceiving. There was no way to tell how many men were waiting for them outside. James saw a few silhouettes in the distance near Larry's station wagon with unlit cocktails in hand. He then saw about a dozen more to the side.
They looked to be all men of varying builds and sizes. Somewhere in the middle, a man flicked a Zippo lighter, adding a flame to a makeshift torch. He held it up proudly, exposing his haggard, bearded face. Strangely enough, he was wearing the uniform of a corrections officer. James followed Larry and Carol farther outside and down the steps with Marla at his side. As they got closer to the men, he could see that many of them were holding rifles, Colt M4 carbines among their weaponry. These were no civilian weapons. He had no doubt they had gotten them from the prison.
“Hi,” the man holding the torch said with a friendly smile. “About time you came to your senses.”
“What do you want?” Larry said defiantly. As he drew closer to the ringleader, several rifles swung forward and aimed at him. Larry halted mid-step and placed his hands in the air.
“That's far enough,” the man said. “You all just stand in a line there, so we can see your hands.”
James glanced at Marla, hesitant to move forward. She clutched his hand, looking off into the woods as though they had a path to escape. But to leave Larry and Carol in such a fashion would surely cost them their lives. And he didn't think they'd make it very far either. He reluctantly led Marla to where Larry and Carol stood in front of the cabin. Seemingly pleased, the man stepped forward, all smiles.
“My name's Brant. I know it's only been a week or so since all hell broke loose, but things have changed around here.” He paused, handing the torch off to one of his men. In all, James saw about twenty of them, much more than he had encountered before. Under the half moon and starless sky, the man continued. “We're the law out here now. And that's just the way it's going to be.”
“Who the hell are you?” Larry said, tired of the games. A quick and unexpected slap came across his face, not from Brant, but from one of his men. Larry stumbled to the side as Carol caught him and then seethed at the men. “Don't you touch him, you son of a bitch! This is our cabin. Our land. You have no right to come here and bother us.”
Larry patted her shoulder, urging her to stay quiet. “It's okay, dear. I'm fine.”
Brant smiled at them, patiently waiting to continue. “Who I am is not important. What I want is the key here.” He began pacing in front of them like some mock general, clearly enjoying the power trip. James kept Marla close, hoping that it would soon be over. If the men had wanted them dead, he was sure that would have already happened. But after what he went through that day, he had no doubts of the capacity for evil some men had. Brant slowly extended his arm, pointing directly at James. “You. You're the one we've been looking for.”
James's heart stopped as Larry and Carol turned their heads in his direction.
“Yes,” Brant continued with his sly measured mannerisms. “You've been busy today. I bet you didn't think that we could track you down, but a few of my friends here know this area quite well.”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” James said in complete denial.
Brant rocked his head back laughing. “Oh, come on,” he said, wiping at his eye. “We've been tracking you since that farmhouse where you killed two of my brothers. Three, if you count Colt.”
James shook his head, not ready to admit to anything. But Brant took his silence as a clear admission. “Nothing to say now, right?” He took a step back and then lit a cigarette. “It's okay. Look, it's survival of the fittest now. I understand. Let's establish a rapport. Tell me your names.” He waited as no one spoke up. The chill in the air only made things worse. They were completely alone out there. No one was going to help them, and they were completely at the mercy of men who looked ready to kill them at a moment's command.
James began by introducing himself, first name only. Marla followed with her name.
“I'm Larry, this is my wife, Carol,” Larry said.
“Excellent!” Brant said. “That wasn't so hard.”
Larry then turned to James, shaken and confused. “What are they talking about? How did they track you and why?”
There was no answer James could give. He didn't even know where to start. The evening was unfolding like a nightmare he was just waiting to get out of. Without Marla's touch so close to him, he'd think that was the case.
“Oh, you didn't tell them?” Brant began with a laugh. “No worries. James here chased a few of my brothers off. I admit my boys were roughing up this old farmer for fun. And ol' James came out blazing.”
All Larry could do was stare at James in disbelief. Carol's expression of betrayal was perhaps the worst, consumed by shock and anger.
“It's quite a story,” Brant said, stepping forward. He then stepped forward and flicked his cigarette right over James's shoulder. “And now I'm here to even the score.” Just as soon as he finished his cigarette, he then lit another. “I want the keys to that Challenger. A few of my boys stepped on those bear traps you got set up everywhere, and we need to get them out of here.” James dug into his pocket and tossed the keys to Brant without issue. He ignored the icy stares of Larry and Carol as he did it. Brant caught the keys in mid-air, seemingly satisfied. But things didn't quite end there.
“Now get down on your knees and sit tight as we go shopping,” he said as though it was nothing more than a procedure.
James and the group stood around, confused at the order, only for Brant to shout at them to get down, voice echoing through the forest. James dropped as he guided Marla down. Larry and Carol soon followed. Brant signaled a few of his men inside, where they rushed in like free for all. They heard tables flip and glass break in addition to the boots galloping through the cabin. The men soon emerged with weapons, clothes, and a litany of items James couldn't see. The excitable men suddenly began pushing each other around, arguing over items. Brant stepped forward and fired a pistol in the air, silencing them.
“Enough childish bullshit. Let's get out of here.”
For a moment, James felt earthly relief as though he could breathe again. Brant turned back to them and approached Larry, gun in hand. “What about these two?” he asked, pointing to the vehicles. “Any of them work?”
Larry shook his head. “No. Engine's shot on both.”
Brant studied him with glaring skepticism, only to relent. “I suppose I believe you. I mean, why else would you be hiding out here. James, on the other hand, had other ideas.” He turned as though the ordeal was over, but then suddenly stopped and tilted his head up at the sky. “I almost forgot, the most important thing. Part of the new way.”
“What do you mean?” Larry asked.
Brant pivoted around on the heel of his boot. “Women. We're collecting women now. They're a very useful commodity. Back at home station, it helps to have that womanly touch.”
Before James or Larry could even process what Brant was getting at, a dozen men ascended upon them, tackling them and holding them to the ground. James felt Marla's hand rip from his as she screamed in horror. Carol kicked and screamed too as they dragged her off. James tried to wrestle free, but he was held down, rifle barrels pointed at his head. They pushed his face into the dirt as he screamed out for Marla. Her screams soon faded along with Carol's as they were carried off into the woods. He turned to see Larry on the ground next to him, face white as a ghost and in a paralyzed state of shock. Brant stood over them, telling them not to fight.
“This is the deal. Now accept it and live or fight us and die.”
James ceased resisting as the men slowly released him. The swarm soon stepped away, rifles pointed at them. James could still hear Marla screaming from afar. He couldn't just sit there, even if he wanted to. The urge was just too much. He leapt up suddenly and shouted for her, charging toward Brant. A tremendous thud soon rapped him across the head from behind, and he collapsed to the ground, unco
nscious, as everything went black.
Hideaway (Book 1): An EMP Thriller Page 13