by Olah, Jeff
Sidestepping the large Feeder and the boxes as they collided with the wall, Lucas looked toward the exit. Harper was gone, and the door was slowly closing.
He could hear Ava shouting, her voice ratcheting with each word. “GO, GET BACK … WAIT … STOP … OVER HERE …”
Lucas cut right, and as the large male Feeder dropped hard to the floor, grabbing at his pant leg, the walkie in his left hand squawked.
“Noah, Lucas?”
It was Travis’s voice, but different than before. He instinctively keyed the two-way radio, but then thought better than to split his focus. Five feet from the door he stopped quickly, and pulled away from the former waiter.
“We’re on our way, but we need your location.”
Lucas took a step back, the large male Feeder now crawling on his hands and knees toward him. He raised the Ruger, fired one round, and quickly moved to the door.
Just outside, Gentry stood beside Noah. Opposite them, Ava, Natalie, and Harper stared down at a motionless body that had a broken section of PVC pipe jutting from its eye socket.
Lucas quickly scanned the rear lot and then the faces of his friends. Harper looked like she was having trouble breathing, her eyes slowly drifting up to meet his.
“You guys okay?”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t …” Harper’s voice cracked. She started toward him, but stopped short as the radio in his left hand came to life.
“Noah, you there?” Travis’s voice was quicker, the volume turned down, but somehow more intense. “We need to get—”
Lucas closed the door behind him, keying the mic and cutting Travis short. “We’re okay.” He gave a short pause and then, “Travis, we had to go with plan B. We’re in the lot behind the old Italian restaurant.”
“Off Second?”
“Yeah.”
“You all okay, the area secure?”
Lucas looked around once again. “We’re all here, we’re good. But the crowd out front is growing. You guys may have to come in off of Mayfair.”
“We’ll be there in three minutes.”
Turning again to face his friends, Lucas offered a slight grin and tightened his grip around the walkie. There was a question he needed to ask, but wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer. Again keying the mic, he said, “All that gunfire, it sounded close. You guys okay?”
There was a long delay, Lucas turning his eyes away from the others. When Travis finally came back, he sounded as though he was out of breath, his words again faster. “You still have the bag with the medical supplies?”
“Yeah?”
“Good, let Gentry know we’re gonna need his help.”
20
“That’s twice now.”
Owen felt like he was burning up, from the inside out. So hot in fact that the pain along the left side of his head had been turned down to just a dull throbbing. He was now more aware of what had taken place out on the street and had a good idea of the extent of his injury, but sitting in the rear of the cab, Travis’s statement didn’t make much sense.
“Uh, what?”
Travis ran his hand along Owen’s left temple, and over his forehead, then wiped it on his sleeve. “You got to be the luckiest man still alive.”
“Huh?”
“Same thing, two month ago.” Travis was trying to keep him awake, it was obvious. “But the last time it was me, I was the guy up there saving your ass. You’ve definitely got some kind of guardian angel looking out for you my friend.”
A thick line of sweat ran from the corner of his eye, or maybe it was a tear, could have been blood. He felt like the world was moving slower now, like he could feel the wind differently as it passed over the hood of the truck and slipped in through the windows. Like he could hear the breath sounds of each of the men around him, individually, each with its own cadence and depth. Even the imperfections in the road, like he could paint an image of every minor depression and pot hole just from the way the massive pickup rolled over the abandoned street.
And he didn’t feel lucky, not in the slightest. He was tired, just wanted to close his eyes for a few minutes.
“Owen, come on buddy, just a few more minutes. We’re gonna get you to Nat, to the kids, to Gentry. He’s gonna get you all fixed up.”
“How’s he doin’?” From the front seat Kevin sounded different, distracted.
“I’m fine.” He was hit with a sudden surge of adrenaline, out of nowhere, but then as fast as it had come, it was gone. “And hot as hell back here, how about we crack a window?”
Travis leaned away, peered out the passenger side window. “Is that them?”
“Yeah, let him know we see them.”
Travis brought the radio up beside his mouth. “You there, Lucas?”
“I’m here.”
“We’re pulling in, just have to work our way through the lot. We’ll come in on your right, stay put.”
Owen slid up in his seat, the pain along the left side of his head returning like a thunder strike. He instinctively reached for his injury, but was stopped by Travis.
“Hey buddy were almost there, you need to sit back.”
Travis was right. There was a ringing in his ears, faint but growing. His stomach was turning over and his vision seemed to be fading into a grey haze. “Where … are we?”
Travis gripped his hand, began to squeeze. “He’s going out, we need to get there, like right now.”
The trucked drifted right, to Owen it felt like they were going up onto two wheels. “Is Nat here? I need to talk to her.”
Travis pounded the back of the passenger seat. “Let’s go.”
“Get Lucas back, tell him to have everything ready.” Kevin sounded like he did the day he was shot. The same tone, but more awake. “Let Gentry know what we’ve got.”
“You sure? What about Natalie, the kids?”
“We don’t have the time to sugar-coat this one, and they’re going to get the full picture in less than a minute anyway.”
Three seconds of just the tires against the road, and then Travis turned to look through the windshield. “Lucas, have Gentry get ready. Owen’s hurt, and he’s gonna need some help right when we pull up.”
The radio went quiet for a count of three, and then there was another voice. “Owen?”
It was Natalie. Although only one word, her voice broke, sounded like she had forgotten how to pronounce the one name that meant more to her than anything left in this world.
Owen curled forward, attempting to reach for the walkie. It felt like the left side of his head had its own heartbeat, but pulsing much deeper and faster than it should. “Natalie, tell her …”
Owen closed his eyes. The pounding in his head quickly dropped away and he felt like he was being pulled backward through the darkened interior of the pickup. His mouth tasted of copper and the low buzz in his ears now blotted out everything around.
“Hey,” Travis said, “Owen’s losing it, he’s goin’ out.”
Kevin turned right at the last row of abandoned vehicles, crammed the gas pedal into the floorboard, and eyed his friends fifty yards away. “Alright, be ready to get him out and into the back.” And then looking from Zeus as he lay motionless in his lap to Owen through the rearview mirror, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Come on damn it, fight. Just give me one more minute.”
21
Natalie was running.
She was leaning forward, pumping her arms and begging her legs to move faster. Her heart raced and her mouth was dry. She felt light headed and was out of breath, but not from the brief exertion or the previous nightmare exiting the Italian restaurant.
No this was something else. Something like fear, but on a level she couldn’t quite explain. Not to her friends, not to her children, and not even to herself. The thought of losing Owen and what that would mean in this new world was something that she didn’t think she could come back from.
The truck skidded to a stop twenty feet away, the rear tires throwing a pillar of dust in
its wake. Three of the four doors opened at once, Travis exiting the rear cabin only slightly ahead of Kevin, who turned off the engine and avoided eye contact with her.
“DOMINIC, LET’S GO!” Travis looked different, harder. Closed off. Like he did the first few weeks. His eyes were stained red, and the rope-like vein along the middle of his forehead had returned.
From the opposite side of the pickup, a tall young man she thought she remembered from the sidewalk earlier that day cornered the bed and quickly moved in beside Travis. They spoke quietly and had their heads tilted into the cab.
“On three,” Travis said, “Ready?”
The tall man nodded.
Travis responded in kind. “One …”
Natalie’s pulse caught in her throat. It was … Oh no.
It was Owen, his hand dropping out of the cab, grey and lifeless, as Travis tucked under his arms and the tall man reached for his legs.
“Two …”
Her knees were rubber and she forgot how to breathe. There was a sharp pain that started in her stomach and caused her to lurch forward.
“Three.” Gentry moved by her as the tall young man slipped Owen’s lower half off the rear seat and followed Travis toward the bed of the truck. As they moved, Travis walked backward, but positioned himself alongside Owen’s head. He looked nervously back toward her and then at Gentry.
He was shielding her, and probably her children from something, and at the moment she thought it better not to investigate. She needed to collect herself, for Noah and for Ava, but also for Owen and for the others. There would be time to fall apart, time to grieve, time to curse the world, but for now she had to get it together. She had to return to the old Natalie, the one who would rather seem cold and unemotional than look weak.
Even if it was only for today.
And as their father’s lifeless body was being lifted into the bed of truck, Ava and Noah now stood at her side. Noah on her right, his hands wrapped around her waist and Ava reaching for her hand.
“Mom?” Noah’s voice rattled.
Natalie used her free hand to wipe her face and sucked in a deep breath through her nose. “He’s going to be okay. Your father is the strongest man I know.”
Ava squeezed her hand, kissed her shoulder, and looked up into her eyes. “He is, he’s gonna be okay.”
Her daughter was trying to stay strong, trying to be brave, was trying to be the crutch she so desperately needed. And although it hadn’t completely turned her focus, it had given her a brief flicker of hope, a reason to move forward.
At least for now.
“Yeah, he’ll be fine.” She bent at the waist, pulled her children into a bear hug, and motioned back over her shoulder. “But how about we let Dr. Gentry help him, and we go wait back over there?”
Harper slipped in behind Noah and took his hand. She eyed the pickup and then Natalie. “Go.”
Natalie looked past Harper, toward the Italian restaurant and Lucas, her mind running off the rails. “But …”
“Lucas secured the fences. We’re alone back here, safe for now. Go.”
Natalie kissed Noah on the forehead, Ava on the side of the face. “You guys stay here with Harper.” She forced a devious grin. “I’m going to go yell at your father for something he didn’t do.”
Noah looked up, his face a mess of despair and confusion. He turned to his sister, unsure of how to react, waiting, expecting. And when she finally allowed a smile to begin to form, he took her hand and released Natalie’s. “Okay Mom, go yell at Dad.”
He smiled too.
There was a flash as she started toward the truck when she pictured Owen being lifted out of the bed, his arms and legs slack, his eyes fixed on the sky, and the color draining from his face. She tried to change the image, attempted to see it another way, tried to think of something else, anything else. Whatever the outcome, she’d have to go through it, live in it, but for now she didn’t have to, for now she could believe what she’d told her children.
“Please Owen … please.”
Taking another deep breath in through her nose and slowly blowing it out, Natalie stepped to the side of the truck, told herself to hold it together, and looked over Travis’s shoulder.
It was worse than she imagined, or maybe it was just all the blood and the fact that her husband already looked like he was gone. She didn’t know how to process what she was seeing, and although her first thought was to turn and walk away, to avoid having to see it actually happen, she stepped around Travis and leaned into the bed of the truck.
“Is he …?”
“No,” Travis said, “But he’s lost a whole lot of blood, we’re trying to—”
That wasn’t the question she was asking, not even close. “Is he going to be okay?”
Gentry had cut Owen’s shirt away, and was tilting his torso first up onto his right side and then his left. He ran his hand over her husband’s back and along his side. “Where the hell is it?”
Natalie stood on her toes and followed Gentry’s eyes and his hands. “Where is what?”
He didn’t answer, instead the man who might save the world gripped Owen’s left wrist and pulled his arm up over his head. His expression changed in an instant. He nodded his head and narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, there it is.”
Travis looked at Natalie, first shrugging his shoulders and then shaking his head. “What are we looking at Doc?”
Gentry wiped his face with his shoulder and turned from Travis to Natalie. “He’s in shock. He’s lost more blood than I’m comfortable with, and he’s not out of the woods, not yet. But at least now we know what we’re working with.”
Now she wanted to ask, she had to.
To Gentry she said, “Is he … is he going to make it?”
22
Devin Fletcher stood near the driver’s door and watched as the man who was behind the wheel, Kevin he thought, jogged away from the truck, the massive German Shepherd in his arms. The man moved out away from the others, laid the animal on a small patch of grass, and sprinted back to a bag that lay open near the corner of the building.
Devin dropped his own pack near the front wheel and turned toward the woman eight feet away. “I’m going to help that man, with the dog.”
She only turned toward him for a brief second, her eyes glazed over, tears beginning to form. She appeared to stare right through him, and didn’t speak. She wiped at her eyes and just turned back.
Devin assumed that the injured man was her husband, and although he thought he remembered her from nearly a year ago, he couldn’t recall her name. He thought it might have been Laura, or maybe Janet, but there wasn’t much else he could recall from the one and only time he had visited BXF Technologies. He was sure it was her, that they’d met, but for now it would have to remain a mystery.
“I’m sorry.”
Again, she didn’t respond or even seem to know he was there.
He stood on his toes, quickly checked the perimeter, and started toward the man now on his knees, hunched over the German Shepherd. And as Devin came alongside, Kevin was speaking under his breath, but stopped.
“You could use a hand.”
Kevin was cradling the dog’s hind leg and brushing aside the blood-soaked fur. He looked up at Devin and then quickly back at the animal. His eyes were the same as the woman’s, but behind them a deep level of focus. “Uh …”
“I can help.”
Kevin didn’t respond.
The dog let out a low whimper and gently pulled his leg away. Kevin ran his hand over the dog’s back and leaned forward to kiss him on the head. “You’re gonna be fine buddy, I promise.”
“Is there anything you need, you want me to take a look at it?”
Kevin again ran his hand over Zeus’s back and then down toward his injured leg. He paused a moment to see how the German Shepherd would react, and when Zeus only looked him over and laid his head on the grass, Kevin brushed aside the matted fur and leaned in close.
There wa
s a second or two where Devin thought he saw an entry wound, the German Shepherd’s flesh peeled back and the tissue beneath, a scorched mess. However, as he bent at the waist and moved in closer, he was able to make out the fine details and separate reality from the images his mind was trying to piece together.
“He’s okay?”
Kevin released Zeus’s leg and rocked back, blowing out a long breath as he reached for a bottle of peroxide and a thick roll of gauze. “Yeah, just a scratch. He’ll be fine.”
Devin almost laughed. While it wasn’t a direct hit, and the bullet had only grazed the massive animal, it was far from a scratch. “Whatta ya need?”
There was a different look to Kevin. It wasn’t joy, not excitement, but something close. Like he was told he had another chance at winning a race, or taking an exam he’d failed, or getting to relive the last twenty-four hours of a terrible day. There was a quiet determination that on one hand gave Devin a measured dose of relief, but on the other, scared the living shit out of him.
Kevin didn’t answer. Instead he peered off toward the group fifty yards away and then back at the truck. “Owen, my friend. Is he …”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?” The larger man looked like he was going to jump out of his shoes, like he was expecting another answer.
“He’s lost quite a bit of blood, but the doctor is trying to get him stable. It doesn’t look like he took any direct hits, probably just in shock.”
Kevin went to work on Zeus’s leg, cleaning and dressing the wound. And as he did, he let out a short sigh and rolled his head from left to right. “You look familiar, why?”
Devin wasn’t sure, but he figured he knew where this was headed. “Marcus Goodwin.”
Kevin stopped for a second, again ran his hand over Zeus’s thick coat. “Okay, but how, why?”
“You probably worked for him, right?”
“For a time, you?”