Survive The Fall | Book 2 | Madness Rising

by Shupert, Derek

  Russell lowered the weapon from the man’s head to his torso. “How many men are in the building?”

  “Four including me. The place is shut down since the power’s out.”

  A knocking noise from down the walkway caught Russell’s attention. He peered out of the office, and around the jamb of the door while keeping his piece trained on Marcus’s lackey.

  The man slapped his arm away, then shoved him backward. Russell lost his balance, and fell to the floor as the man bolted from the office. Both Max and Butch chased after him.

  “No, no, no,” Russell said, as he pulled himself off the floor.

  He rushed out of the office and ran after Butch and Max. They raced across the catwalk at full tilt. There was still a chance to get to the man before he warned everyone else that they were here.

  The man rushed down a small set of steps and kept running across the metal gangway. He peered over his shoulder at the dogs.

  Russell struggled to keep pace with the galloping canines. He wheezed, and struggled to catch his breath, but pushed on. His hand glided along the railing as he labored down the set of small steps.

  The man trampled down a set of stairs that led to the ground below. Max and Butch kept with him stride for stride as they vanished from Russell’s sight.

  Things had gone from bad to worse in a blink. Russell was out of his element and treading water that was trying to overtake him.

  His boots hammered each step as he flew down the staircase. He swept the area with his pistol, but couldn’t lay eyes on the dogs or any of Marcus’s men for that matter.

  Russell’s chest heaved, and his lungs begged for air. He panted as he licked his dry, cracked lips. Sweat populated his brow and trickled down the sides of his face.

  He worked his way through the machinery on the ground floor toward the double doors that led to the main entrance of the building. An array of large saws and conveyer belts with trees strapped to them took up much of the space. It was a maze of steel that had too many places for Marcus’s men to hide.

  Faint barks from the dogs echoed throughout the space, and made him pause. He listened, but couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from.

  Gunfire made Russell flinch. He ducked and searched for the source. He dropped to the ground and scrambled for cover.

  The contents in the rucksack shifted about as he ducked behind a stack of wooden pallets. He deflated against the edge and exhaled. He looked for the shooter through the narrow gaps of the machinery, but couldn’t lay eyes on him.

  Another round popped off, striking the outside of the wood near his head. Russell retreated to the far side and got to his feet. A set of boots came into view as he collided with the burly man.

  Russell squeezed the trigger on impulse without aiming. The bullet went wide by a mile.

  The burly man knocked the pistol from his hand, then punched Russell in the face. The blow rocked him, but didn’t take him down. His face pulsated and ached as tears blurred his vision. The man’s hand felt like cinderblocks.

  Russell shook his head, then squinted as the burly man reached for his pistol. He pulled the weapon from the saw dust on the ground and brought it to bear.

  Max leapt from the conveyer belt next to them and latched onto the man’s arm. Fire spat from the muzzle as Max jerked the man to the ground. The single round kicked up dirt next to Russell’s feet. He jumped and backed away.

  Screams fled the man’s bearded mouth as Max thrashed his head from side to side.

  Russell caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Another one of Marcus’s men had gotten the drop on him. The short, stocky man shouldered his rifle and lined up his shot with Russell’s head.

  Russell lifted his arms into the air, surrendering.

  Butch stalked the man from behind, panting heavily.

  The man froze as his eyes went wide. He wrenched the rifle about. The cane corso lunged and tackled him with ease. He mounted the frightened man as he tried to scoot away.

  Butch snapped at any part of the man’s body he could latch onto. Terrified screams of panic fled the man’s mouth as he pushed at the dog’s neck. Butch latched onto his wrist and jerked his head until the man stopped fighting back.

  “Mr. Cage,” a voice said, nearby. “Russell Cage, why don’t you come out, and let’s chat?”

  Russell didn’t recognize the voice, but figured it had to be Marcus.

  “Max, come on,” Russell said, making his way past the stack of pallets.

  Max let go of the burly man’s arm and followed at his side. They halted at the edge of the pallets as Russell scoped out the area. He couldn’t see the man who called for him and didn’t want to risk venturing out into the open and catching a bullet to the head.

  “Who’s wanting to chat?” Russell asked.

  “I think you know who,” the smug voice replied. “I’ve got our mutual lady friend here.”

  “How do I know you’re not going to shoot me in the head when I step out into the open?”

  “You don’t, but seeing as you’re shit up a creek without a paddle, I guess you’re going to have to trust me.”

  Russell pulled his shirt over the pistol, then stepped out from his cover with his arms in the air. Cathy stood just beyond the double doors with a man crouched behind her. Her blonde hair was a tattered mess, her face was smirched with dirt, and she had a cut above her right brow.

  Marcus eyed Russell from over her shoulder, then pointed his gun in their direction. “Now those are some vicious animals. Make sure you keep them inline. I’d hate to have to put them down.”

  Russell couldn’t get a clear view of the man’s face or any part of his body.

  “You ok?” Russell asked as he walked toward them. Both Max and Butch flanked him on either side, growling and baring their fangs.

  “Yeah. I’m all right,” Cathy answered in a weak voice. She looked to Max who groaned and whined. He took a step toward her.

  Russell halted him with his hand. He stayed put, for now.

  Marcus had two of his men off to either side of him. Both had rifles shouldered and trained in Russell’s direction.

  “You know, for some city slicker from Boston, you sure are full of surprises,” Marcus said, in a raised voice. “That rat Deputy Johnson, who we caught outside of the building and who is now dead, told me about you. If he would have done his job and snuffed you while he had the chance, that would’ve made my world a billion times easier. But instead, he brought you all the way to my front door, and now, I have to clean up his mess.”

  Russell wasn’t a fan of Johnson, but he didn’t want to see him die. In the end, though, he’d reaped what he’d sowed.

  “The sheriff knows all about what you’ve done. You do anything to either of us, and you’ll be in a world of hurt,” Russell replied.

  “And who exactly is going to care about either of you?” Marcus asked. “I own this town. Every single resident is pressed under my thumb, and most wouldn’t dare cross me. Well, except for Ms. Cathy here. She’s been a pain in my side for some time. Because of her stubborn nature and lack of reasoning, some of the other town’s people have started to push back, questioning how I do things. This has complicated my business and forced me to escalate matters. I could just kill her and take her property, but she’d be much more valuable to me as an asset. If I can have her tout a change of heart toward me and how wonderful I am, then perhaps other folks will take notice. That, and she’s easy on the eyes, wouldn’t you say?”

  The double doors swung outward as a figure loomed in the shadows of the hallway.

  “Look at that. The cavalry is here,” Marcus said, in a mocking tone. “Looks like I’m in trouble now.”

  Sheriff Donner strolled out into the open and walked past Cathy and Marcus. He turned to the side and stopped halfway between Russell and them.

  “I knew you were on his payroll,” Cathy said, as she thrashed in Marcus’s embrace. “You’re going to end up the same way as your deputy. Dead.�
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  Donner’s emotionless gaze lingered on Cathy. His hands rested on his duty belt. He didn’t respond to her violent outburst, but instead, looked at Marcus.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Sheriff,” Marcus said, as he held onto Cathy’s body. “I’d like to report a trespasser on my property. Do you think you can take care of that for me?”

  Sheriff Donner looked to Russell. His hand shifted to the Glock on his hip. “Yeah. I’ll take care of him. Have your men lower their rifles, though. I don’t want any itchy trigger fingers accidently shooting me today.”

  “You heard the sheriff, boys. Go ahead and lower your weapons.”

  Marcus’s men lowered their rifles and held them close to their chests. They stood in place and watched as the sheriff removed his Glock from his holster.

  Donner clutched the piece in his hand with his finger over the trigger. He peered down at the Glock, and stared at it for a few seconds.

  “Everything all right, Sheriff?” Marcus asked. “I’d like to get this wrapped up as fast as possible.”

  “Actually, no, everything is not all right,” Donner replied with a heavy sigh.

  He turned toward Marcus and brought his Glock to bear. He fired at the henchmen flanking Marcus. Both men dropped to the ground before they could shoulder their rifles.

  “What the hell,” Marcus said, in disbelief. He pulled the pistol away from Cathy’s head and fired.

  Fire spat from the end of the weapon. Two rounds impacted with the sheriff’s chest and knocked him to the ground.

  Cathy stomped Marcus’s foot with the heel of her boot, then rammed her elbow into his face. His head snapped back. She pulled away from his arms.

  Max took off running and made a beeline toward him.

  “You bitch,” Marcus said, as blood trickled from his nose. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  He lined the barrel of his pistol up with the small of her back as Max raced to stop him.

  Russell pulled the weapon from behind his back and opened fire. He squeezed the trigger until it clicked empty. Multiple rounds punched through Marcus’s chest. The pistol fell from Marcus’s hand as he crumbled to the ground.

  Max diverted his attention to Cathy who was on her side. He licked at her face as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him.

  Sheriff Donner laid prone on his back, coughing and hacking up blood. He’d been hit in the chest and side. Blood smirched his uniform.

  Russell approached with caution as Butch growled at his side. He kicked the sheriff’s firearm away and trained his piece at his chest.

  “Did you grow a conscience?” Russell asked.

  “Yeah. Something like that,” Donner said, as he grimaced in pain. “I should have stopped this years ago. All of this and everything else that’s happened is all my fault.”

  Cathy stood up and walked over to the sheriff with Max at her side. She glanced over the wounds, then said, “Those look severe. Not sure we could get him to the hospital before he bleeds out.”

  Donner dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about me. You two need to get out of here.”

  “How do we know we can trust him to take care of it?” Russell said. “His deputy and former boss threatened my wife and tried to kill us while he did nothing to stop it.”

  “I have a lot of wrong to make up for. Let me handle this. Besides, I’ll probably bleed out before too long,” Donner replied in a weak tone.

  Russell wasn’t keen on having to finish off the sheriff, despite what he had done. The other men he had shot were in self-defense and to preserve his and Cathy’s life.

  He lowered the pistol as Donner nodded toward the double doors. His trembling hand reached for the radio on his shoulder.

  “Go. Get out of here.”

  Cathy and Russell stared at one another as Donner spoke into his radio. Static crackled from the speaker as he paused, then kept going. It was unclear if he was getting through or not.

  “Come on, Butch,” Russell said, as they fled the scene.

  They worked their way through the dark, abandoned office and out through the front doors. Russell skimmed over the two trucks and SUV that were parked in front of the main entrance. He made for the red Bronco.

  The dogs were loaded through the rear of the vehicle. Russell removed the rucksack from his back and shoved it across the black, leather bench seat. He settled into the driver’s seat and shut his door.

  Cathy slammed the rear hatch, then ran to the passenger side door. She scaled the side of the SUV and hopped inside.

  Russell reached for the keys in the ignition, but they weren’t there. He looked about aimless, unsure of where to check.

  “Here.” Cathy grabbed the driver’s side visor and pulled down. A set of keys dropped into Russell’s lap.

  “Really?” he said.

  Cathy shrugged. “People are simple and trusting in the mountains.”

  Russell shook his head, then fired up the engine. The Bronco started without fault. He pumped the gas, revving the engine.

  Russell shifted into reverse and backed away from the building. He spun the steering wheel counterclockwise, pumped the brake, then shifted into drive.

  The back tires tore into the ground, slinging clumps of dirt and chunks of rock from under the thick tread as they drove away from the lumber mill.

  They hit the dirt that wound down through the hills, leaving the nightmare they faced behind them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  RUSSELL

  The ride back to Luray was an uneventful drive. Russell checked the rearview mirror for any inbound trucks, but none came. Dirt morphed to pavement as they booked it down the highway.

  Max licked at Cathy’s face. He whined and nearly crawled over the front seat to be with her. Butch sat on his haunches, staring out of the backseat window with his stern, focused gaze.

  “Yeah. I’m happy to see you too.” Cathy’s voice was jovial. A warm smile slid across her face as she hugged and kissed Max’s head. “All right, sit back.”

  Max gave his thick coat a shake, then sat down.

  “That’s one happy pup,” Russell said. “He missed you a lot.”

  “Not as much as I missed him. Thanks for looking out for him. Don’t know what I would do without him,” Cathy responded as she rubbed his head. “Same with this guy.”

  Butch looked her way, then licked at her fingers.

  A look of dread instantly washed over her face as she stared at Russell. “Oh God. Thomas. Is he ok?”

  “I’m not sure, to be honest. After the sheriff got on the scene, he dragged me down to the station. He said he was going to have Thomas taken to the hospital. I figure we’ll stop by there real quick, check on him, and drop Butch off before we head out.”

  “I hope he’s all right. He’s a good man. Been like a father to me,” Cathy said, in a somber tone.

  “I think he’ll be fine. He seems like a tough old bastard.”

  “Yeah. That he is.” Cathy cleared her throat. “Thanks for coming to get me and all that. Aside from Thomas, I don’t have many people I consider friends around these parts. I mean, you could have bailed, but I’m glad you didn’t. So, yeah. Thanks.”

  Russell teetered on the brink of coming clean that he considered leaving, but decided against it. There was no need to tell her that. Instead, he nodded. “You saved my ass. I returned the favor. Consider us square.”

  Cathy smirked. “Yeah. We’re square.”

  The roads were null of any traffic, allowing Cathy and Russell to make good time.

  They arrived back in town and stopped at the local hospital. Max was kept in the back of the Bronco while Butch was let out. The entrance to the hospital was dark. The automatic sliding glass doors were propped open far enough for people to pass through.

  The waiting room was empty except for four people sitting in the far seats. Nurses and other medical staff scurried about with clipboards and charts clutched in their hands.

/>   “Excuse me, ma’am,” Russell said, to the nurse behind the front counter.

  She looked up from her chart. “Yes. How may I help you?”

  “Hi. Yes, we’re looking for a-”

  Butch barked, then spun around in circles.

  “Hey, you can’t have that dog in here. This is a hospital, not an animal shelter,” she said, while leaning toward the counter.

  Butch didn’t pay her any mind as he darted past Russell and Cathy. The cane corso galloped across the lobby toward a man in a wheel chair.

  The nurse stormed around the counter in a huff, searching for the large, black beast.

  Thomas rolled through the lobby as Butch lowered his head and wagged his tail. “There’s my big boy.”

  Butch licked at Thomas’s fingers, then jumped up into his lap.

  “Sir, that dog can’t be-”

  Russell tapped the nurse on the shoulder. “Give the guy a break. He was in an accident, and that dog is his world. It’s not like they’re roaming through the hospital. We’re just in the lobby.”

  “Oh really. Well, thank you for letting me know that,” the nurse replied tersely. She looked to Thomas, then back to Russell. “That animal doesn’t go any farther.”

  Russell nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Cathy shrugged as Thomas wheeled up to them with Butch at his side.

  “Aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes,” he said, with a smile. “You both look like hammered crap, but I’m happy to see that you’re ok.”

  Cathy hugged his neck. “How are you doing?”

  Thomas rubbed Butch’s head, then said, “I’m good. Sore and banged up some, but I’ll live. It’ll take a bit more than a car wreck to keep me down.”

  Russell patted Thomas’s shoulder and smiled. “We’re just glad you’re ok. That’s all that matters.”

  “Yeah. You and me both,” Thomas replied. “So, what happened with Marcus? Didn’t you tell the sheriff and get it straightened out?”

  Cathy and Russell looked at each other, then nodded.

  “Yeah. It’s been handled. Don’t think we’ll have to worry about him bothering us anymore,” Cathy said.