Now, I no longer wonder. These hunks of twisted metal are reminders, yes, but they no longer consume my thoughts. Those deaths, while tragic, can’t be helped. I am more concerned with those still living. And while I will always curse those who did this, it is not with half the venom as I curse the man waiting for me at the end of this path. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I will never understand what happened. Will never understand how anyone could justify the horror they brought onto the world. But Barr? I understand him. I understand what he wants. And I will be damned if I let that happen. I will have my revenge. Even if I don’t, he will see that all his threats and manipulations could not silence me. Could not silence us. And if we die, at least we will die free.
The thought, dark as it may be, brings about a sense of calm, of understanding. I know what I must do.
Past the wreckage, we hit the river trail once more and turn back south. I feel the tension grow thicker as the minutes pass, the prospect of what we’re about to do manic no matter the circumstance. We all know how this might end. Yet we continue on. Past a hotel. Past a grocery store. And there it is: The DoubleTree sitting as grand and imposing as a castle.
We stop, hidden from sight behind a mound of snow and trees. Felix takes out the radio and enters a series of clicks. He pauses, waiting for a response on the other end. None comes. He exchanges a look with Leon. I feel the cold knot in my stomach tighten. Why is there no response?
Felix enters the clicks again. Nothing. Tension. And then, the reply. Felix pays close attention to the clicks and pauses.
“The plan is a go,” he says. “On their signal, run like hell.”
Waiting. Guns are primed and ready. Spare mags are checked and loaded. Then there is nothing to do but wait. The more time passes, the harder it is to control my thoughts. Is Grace alright? Is Morgan? What awaits us at the end of this trail? I don’t want to know. Better I go in with all the rage and fury I’ve felt brewing inside since the warehouse exploded. I can feel it now, building alongside the adrenaline. It courses through me, making my heart beat hard and my thoughts turn to Barr.
He did this. He thinks he has a right to our lives: that he can control us. He is wrong. And he’s about to find that out.
The radio clicks and the wait is over.
We emerge in a burst of kinetic energy. There’s no hesitation. Only action. Pumping my legs, feeling the cold air burn my lungs. Only Leon and Felix outstrip me, their legs eating up the ground faster than any of us can match. Despite the message I expect resistance; to hear the crack of gunfire followed by a barrage of bullets aimed our way. And yet none come. We sprint the distance uncontested, the double doors on the west exit opening up for us like the maw of a giant beast.
I enter at full tilt, my rifle raised and ready. Then my barrel lands on a familiar face and my legs go weak. Tears sting my eyes as I sink to my knees. I reach out and touch her arms, half expecting her to be an apparition. She’s not. She’s solid and warm beneath my hands.
“Grace.” The word comes out as a sob, the relief overwhelming as I pull her into my arms. It’s short-lived, my sister quick to shrug off my embrace.
“Not the time,” she says. “We have to move.”
The mirage vanishes at the urgency in her voice. It’s then I notice the bruise on her face. The gun in her hand looks so out of place, yet she carries with practiced ease. Has she been forced to use it? There’s no time to find out as my attention snaps to Julia who speaks low and fast to Felix.
“Managed to hide us,” she says as the last of us file in and the door is shut closed. “Couldn’t believe it, but we’d have been captured with the rest if it wasn’t for him.”
“Where are the rest of you?” Felix asks.
“Freeing the others,” she says. “We have to—”
Her voice is silenced as a gunshot sounds overhead. For a moment none of us move, our bodies tense, hardly daring to draw breath. Then, another gunshot goes off. Then another. And another still. And then, it’s chaos.
Chapter 25: (Morgan)
“I’m sorry,” Mitch says. His eyes flick to mine. “I’d take it all back if I could.”
A jolt of understanding goes through me, his words unlocking that ball of hatred that twisted inside me at his betrayal. In the span of a heartbeat, everything just changed.
He moves quick, snapping his eyes to Barr and swiveling the gun barrel around in one fluid movement. Click. Shock fills his face as he pulls the trigger and nothing happens. He squeezes again and again. Click, click, click. He looks horrified as Barr withdraws a full magazine and waves it in front of his face. Mitch drops the gun and reaches for his rifle, but Victor stops him by shoving his gun at the base of his skull.
“I thought so,” Barr sighs. He feigns disappointment, but I can hear the relish in his voice. One of the Animals removes Mitch’s rifle and hands the discarded pistol to Barr. Barr ejects the empty clip and swaps it for the full one in his hand. “I gave you a chance, Mitch. You chose wrong.”
He levels the gun and squeezes the trigger. Mitch doubles over, the bullet tearing into his stomach dropping him to the ground. My mother screams and sinks to her knees, blood staining her hands as she tries to staunch the flow.
“I’m sorry, Marie,” Mitch cries, his pain running deeper than the gunshot. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“Shh,” she says, cradling him in her arms as if he were still the boy she once knew. “I always—”
Three shots silence her words, blood spraying my mother's face as the bullets tear through my uncle's chest.
“Sorry,” Barr says, mocking my uncle's dying plea. “But I don’t have time for deathbed confessionals.”
My mother rises, her eyes flashing. “No time?” she seethes, voice filled with more venom than I would have thought her capable of. “Who the fuck are you to decide how much time we have?”
I cringe, expecting for him to interrupt her as he did Mitch, with a bullet through the heart. But his gun doesn’t rise. To my surprise, he smiles, enjoying my mother’s rage.
“You think you’re so damn special, don’t you? So drunk on your own power, you think you can do whatever you please. Is it because you think we fear you? That your cruelty is enough to protect you? If so, you’re a fool. You’re no better than any of us. I thought you would have learned that after what happened to your brother.”
His smile vanishes in an instant. He backhands her with his free hand, sending her to a knee. The rage inside me is at its breaking point, nearly sending me flying at him despite the dozen guns still trained on me.
“You push too far, bitch,” he says. He takes a deep breath. “But I do like your fire...it’s something I can use.”
People have always said I have my mother's eyes. They're more right than they know, our eyes sharing more than just shape and color. Which is why I feel my body tense all over as her eyes meet mine, knowing she’s about to do something I can’t stop. She looks away, rising to her feet as she stares Barr back down.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you?” she asks. “You shouldn’t play with fire.”
Barr smirks only for it to fall as a great crash sounds at the back of the room. There’s a ripple of turning heads and swiveling guns. A gunshot sounds. And then all hell breaks loose, time speeding up and standing still all at once. The Animals return fire, only to be blindsided from behind as scores of prisoners emerge from their captivity. Just as Mitch promised they would.
It’s chaos. Screams. Blood. Bodies falling to the floor and diving behind whatever cover they can find. In the span of seconds, the place has turned into a slaughterhouse. And yet it is all a blur to me, my vision narrowed on Barr and my mother. The moment the door crashed open she struck, the knife she stripped from Mitch’s body aimed at Barr’s chest. Too slow. He catches it with one hand, and with the other, raises his pistol.
Panic and adrenaline fuel my movement as I close the distance. I’m almost level with them when he senses me and turns the gun my way. My feet leave
the ground as I dive forward. I crash into him the same moment the gun goes off, the bullet missing me by inches. We hit the ground hard, my momentum sending me violently into the counter beyond. The wind leaves me, but I’ve no time to catch my breath. Already Barr has gained a knee and raises his gun. I feel my blood turn cold as the barrel draws level with me. He squeezes the trigger as my mother’s boot connects with his outstretched hand. The gun goes flying from his hand and I can feel the bullet’s slipstream as it hits the wood above my head. Another split second, and I’d be dead.
My mother goes for another kick but Barr is too quick for her, rising to his feet and leveling her with a haymaker before retreating. She goes limp and I see nothing but red as the air re-enters my lungs. A discarded AR lies to my right. I dive for it and gain a knee. Barr uses the cover of battle to flee, already nearing the exit by the time I spot him. I center my crosshairs when a mane of black hair catches my eye. Then I see her. More importantly, I see what she does not: an Animal twice her size charging her from the side, blade in hand.
My crosshairs leave Barr and settle on the brute as he draws level with Lauren. Praying, I pull the trigger. The bullet strikes true, flying past Lauren and hitting the Animal square in the chest. The knife drops, but his momentum can’t be stopped. He staggers into Lauren, sending her to the floor. I rush to her side and heave the dying Animal off her, ending him with a followup shot to the head.
“Are you alright?” I ask.
She brushes the question away with an irritable shake of the head. “Where’s Barr?” she asks, looking around the room. Frantic, I look about. It’s pure bedlam. Dead bodies. The percussion of bullets and shrieks of the wounded deafening in the enclosed area. I can smell the blood, the urine, the shit—the fragrance of war. Small or not, that’s what this is. And though the tide turns for us, the Animals quickly falling amid the overwhelming tide of my people, what will it matter if Barr escapes? So long as he lives this war will never truly be over.
“Morgan!”
I turn to see Felix firing out the main entrance. He ejects the empty clip and looks at me. “He’s getting away!”
I follow his finger and spot a small flock of Animals sprinting across the parking lot. As his men die, Barr flees. To hell with that. I’m moving forward as fast as my feet will carry me, murder on my mind as I pursue the bastard.
Chapter 26: (Lauren)
I snatch my fallen rifle and follow Morgan out the front entrance. Barr and three followers have nearly made it to the far side of the lot, using the stalled vehicles as cover. Morgan and I lay down fire, managing to bring one down. Before we can take down another they dive into the cab of an ancient diesel. Even from here, the roar of the truck’s engine is like that of charging beast. It peels out of its parking space amid a rain of bullets and slides out of the parking lot.
Morgan curses. Panic overcomes me as the truck crosses the intersection. I look back at the lobby. So many bodies litter the floor. Animals, yes. But also our people. How many I don’t know. Too many. Coupled with those lost in the warehouse explosion and the number must be devastating. So much violence. So much death. And now to watch the one responsible for it all escape? It’s too much.
An engine roars to life behind me, bringing me out of my dark thoughts. I turn in time to see a Jeep slide to a stop before us, Felix behind the wheel.
“Get in!” he yells.
We dive in, my door still ajar when Felix stomps on the accelerator. At the exit, Felix taps the brakes, sending us into a controlled drift, allowing us to hit the intersection with speed. Past the intersection Felix throttles it, the force of the acceleration forcing me back into my seat. We close the gap in a matter of blocks, bringing us in range of their guns.
The first shot cleaves through the center of the windshield and strikes the backseat only a hands width away. More follow and Felix is forced to fall back.
“Could use some cover fire here!” Felix yells.
Morgan and I oblige, sending volleys of shots through our open windows. As I pull the trigger, it strikes me how surreal this is. How has my life boiled down to this? Chasing down Barr. Ducking for cover and returning fire. It feels like something out of a movie. Like the sort of thing I would watch with Grace, rolling my eyes at the lead actress, mocking her transformation from a Plain Jane who had never held a gun before, into this sudden heroine who unloads an AR out of a moving vehicle as bullets fly past.
If only that were true. But this is no fiction. There is no yelling cut and putting an end to all of this. And as much as I would like to believe otherwise, I am no heroine. I am just a girl trying to keep her and her loved ones alive. Yet, here I am. Alive despite everything I’ve been through. A rush goes through me, a feeling of power as I realize the simple truth: There are no such things as heroes. Not really. There are only those with a purpose stronger than their fear. It’s what puts those everyday people into situations like this. And sometimes, it is those very people who are the most dangerous. People like me.
“Running low on ammo!” Morgan yells, ejecting an empty magazine and replacing it.
“Same,” I shout, already on my last mag.
“Hold on!” Felix yells.
He shifts, and the Jeep lurches forward, quickly gaining the ground we lost. He’s going to try and run them off the road. They notice, suddenly braking and swinging a right onto 32nd street. It’s a turn Felix can’t manage, our momentum sending us fishtailing past the intersection before coming to a jarring stop against a stalled vehicle. My head slams against the seat, leaving me dazed. There’s no time to shake it off, Felix is already punching the gas, the Jeep spinning out before finding purchase and shooting forward.
We race down the hill, using it to add to our momentum. Barr’s trick bought them space, but Felix’s manic driving quickly brings us back within shooting distance. The gunfight continues, more bullets hitting their mark as the narrow road limits our ability to maneuver.
“We’re running out of road,” Morgan shouts.
Barr’s truck slows, the road ahead branching into two sharp turns. Felix doesn’t brake. He pushes the clutch and shifts.
“Brace yourselves!” he yells.
I tuck my chin to my chest and cover my head with my arms. Eyes closed, I hear Morgan curse something but his words are lost amid the roar of the engine and the wind rushing through the window. The roar grows louder. Louder. And then the entire world shakes on its axis.
The seatbelt keeps me from flying away, but I feel the force of the impact vibrate through my entire body. I open my eyes and the world swims. I try and shift, and a wave of pain shoots through me, my left leg trapped by crushed metal. In the passenger seat, Morgan stirs, groaning as he gingerly lifts his hand to a large cut on his forehead. He studies the blood on his fingers as if unsure it is real.
I croak his name and he turns, relief filling his features as he sees me. It’s short-lived as he turns from me to Felix. An airbag has deployed from the driving wheel, covering Felix as if he were asleep at the wheel.
“Felix!” Morgan shouts. He doesn’t stir. Frantically he looks around and breaks off the rearview mirror. He holds it under his nose and both of us are relieved as Felix’s breath condenses on the mirror. Unconscious. Not dead.
“Morgan!” I yell, looking out the busted windshield for the first time. Fifty feet away Barr’s truck lies upside down. And from the wreckage, two figures emerge. Hate fills me as I recognize the taller of the two.
Morgan’s eyes narrow in hate as he spots Barr. He glances quickly at Felix, and then to me.
“Go!” I say, knowing what goes unasked. “End this!”
Chapter 27: (Morgan)
I crawl out of the totaled Jeep, a wave of nausea hitting me as I gain my feet. The world spins and I have to close my eyes until it lessens. No time. Pull yourself together. I open my eyes and get my bearings. My AR’s empty. Lauren’s rifle, nowhere to be seen. I unholster the scavenged revolver and pop it open. Four bullets. Have to make
it count. Ahead of me, two figures stagger away, stumbling as if drunk. Seeing them flee, I feel the predator come alive. Snapping the revolver shut, I pursue.
Pain reverberates through my entire body. My balance is off. My legs, like lead. My head feels like it’s about to split open. Likely concussed. Still, I force myself forward. But as hard as I try, I’m running on fumes. I stumble and fall flat on my face, body failing me. Nausea overwhelms me and I puke onto the ice. Black spots cloud my vision. I can’t continue. I have nothing left to give.
My father’s voice slices through the black. I’m no longer on the ice. The pain I feel disappears as the memory materializes. It was the day after the farm was destroyed. While everyone slept, the two of us sat talking, waiting to hear if we had been granted asylum on Philip’s ranch. In my self-doubt, I confessed how I felt lost. As if I had nothing left to give.
“We all feel like that sometimes,” he said. “Times when everything looks dark. When you have no idea how you’ll pull through. That’s just life. It’s during those times you must ask yourself, why. Why are you doing what you’re doing? Why does it have to be done? If your reasons are strong enough, you’ll find you always have more to give.”
The memory dissolves, and in its place, others rise. Scenes flash past, moments far removed from this frozen ground. And though the scenes vary, they all have a common thread: My family, my friends. It is my loved ones I see. The same ones who followed me into this war with Barr. I think of the warehouse exploding and the firefight at the DoubleTree. How many of us even remain? And of those that do, what comes after? Mourning? Rebuilding? Peace? God, I hope so. After all we’ve been through, we deserve at least some semblance of that. But Barr still breathes. So long as he does, anything we build, any peace we may obtain will be tainted. He will loom as a shadow over it all. And no matter how much time passes, people will be looking over their shoulders.
Echoes of a Dying World (Book 3): A Dream of Tomorrow Page 32