by Chris Draper
“I'll need the keys to the door ma'am.”
Stacey complied, reached down and took out one large bronze key, then tossed it at Clyde who then unlocked the door. He kept his gun aimed at Stacey and when he pulled open the large door the girl on the bed looked up at him curiously, perhaps a little bewildered by the large blonde man in a yellow rainsuit opening her cell.
“Hey kid, get out of there.” He said. “I'm a friend of Hawk's, he told me about you.”
Dottie's face changed to a hopeful expression at the mention of Hawk's name and she got up and Clyde helped her out of the cell, slamming the door behind.
“Now you come too.” He said to Stacey forcing her in front of him at gunpoint. “Try making any false moves out of line and I may not be so friendly.”
“Where are we going?” She asked walking in front of him.
“Back outside to look for the others you mentioned. Get moving.”
Stacey did as she was told and slowly walked back to the living quarters, but when they passed by the kitchen she remembered something: Her jacket. She had a knife hidden in a secret pocket in her jacket. She had to get it and stab this dude before he messed everything up.
They were almost at the front door when she stopped suddenly and Clyde said, “Something wrong?”
“My jacket, I can't leave without it.”
“Don't trust her.” Dottie said. “She may be up to something.”
“Shut up bitch.” Stacey went to lunge at Dottie but Clyde stepped between them and she backed off. “I need to have it, you wouldn't deny a lady her jacket would you? Especially in a storm like that.”
Clyde hesitated, then asked, “Where is it?”
“Just over there on the table.” She pointed at a leather jacket sitting on a table between some couches.
Clyde looked over and nodded, “Go get it, quickly.”
Stacey rushed over, grabbed the jacket then came back and Clyde snatched it from her, asked Dottie to check inside. She opened the pockets, found some cigarettes, a lighter, a wallet – nothing out of the ordinary. Stacey watched anxiously as her hands moved over the secret pouch and for a moment it seemed Dottie might have found it, but then she looked at Clyde, said, “Seems fine to me,” and handed it back to her. Stacey put it on right away, shoved her hand in the pocket to be sure it was still there, didn't feel anything at first, got worried that maybe she'd been wrong, shoved her hand further down into the bottom of the hidden pocket. There. She felt the pocket knife at the bottom and smiled. They were at the front door now and the large man with the shotgun was directly in front of her, his back turned at an angle so he could open the large door. Without hesitating Stacey took out the knife, switched up the blade, and plunged it deep into Clyde's lower back. He yelled out in pain as red poured down the yellow rain coat and he dropped the shotgun and then Stacey stabbed him again twice in his belly and he fell on the floor.
Dottie cried “No!” and went to grab the gun but Clyde had fallen on top of it and his body was also blocking the door. Afraid to move him Dottie backed up, looking for something to use as a weapon, didn't see anything, and Stacey looked at her and said, “You're next!”
Dottie panicked, saw an opening around Stacey and ran straight past her and on the way by Stacey slashed out with the knife and the blade just missed her arm. Dottie saw the hallway, thought about running down there but knew there was no exit, and before she really knew where she was going her eyes came upon a storage closet to the left of the kitchen and she bolted towards it, went inside and slammed the door shut, holding the handle from inside. She was shaking, could hear Stacey outside the door taunting her.
“You're making things too easy for me.” She said laughing. “If you come out now I promise I'll make it quick.” She reached for the door, gave it a hard yank and Dottie had to use all of her strength to keep the door closed.
“I'm gonna enjoy cutting your pretty face to shreds!” Stacey yelled and began slicing the knife into the wooden door. Dottie screamed seeing the blade cut through the thin plywood like bread and began to feel around her. It was dark in there, stuffy, and she shuffled her body around knocking over some wood and metal objects by her feet. She reached down, felt around in the darkness and her hand rubbed against a thin wooden handle. She ran her hand down it slowly and felt the blade of an axe at the end.
“I'm gonna count to three and if you're not out by then I'm gonna break this door down. One...”
Breathing hard Dottie took the axe in her hand, she'd never used one before in her life but had seen it done in the movies and thought she could figure it out.
“Two.”
She held the handle in both hands, raised it high over her right shoulder, tried to picture herself swinging it and how much force would be required.
“Three!” Stacey pulled the door open and what was there was the last thing she could have imagined. She saw the blade first, come down in the side of her face and she let out a wail as it wedged into the side of her skull, then she fell over on the floor, squirmed for a seconds, then lay still.
Panting Dottie carefully approached Stacey's body on the floor. She saw her eyes were open and satisfied that she was dead made her way over to Clyde laying on the ground by the front door. His breathing was shallow and he'd lost a lot of blood that pooled underneath him, but she tried moving him anyway and he winced in pain so she let him lay there, got a pillow from the couch and placed it under his head. Then she knelt over him, wondering who this strange man was that showed up in the middle of a storm claiming to be a friend of Hawk's.
“I didn't get your name.” She said helping him remove the raincoat, the cotton of the inner jacket now coated in blood. “You said you know Simon?”
“Yes.” Clyde coughed out. “My name is Clyde...I was the one who brought Simon here on my boat. I knew he was...in trouble.”
“We need to get you to a hospital.” She said. “Or you'll bleed to death.”
Clyde made an effort to get up but the pain was unbearable and he lay back down.
“You're gonna have to leave me here for now. Go check the kitchen for some gauze, some bandage. You can use that to wrap the wound...it should stop some of the bleeding for a little while.”
Dottie ran over the kitchen, opened a few drawers and cupboards, spotted a first aid kit shoved underneath some rags and pulled it out. She took out some bandages, came back and wound the bandages around the cut in his stomach.
“Where is he Hawk?” He asked. “Was he here already?”
“Yes he was here.” Dottie said making sure the bandage was tight. “We almost escaped last night, but Byron got to him before we could.”
Byron. Clyde remembered Hawk mentioning the name before. “I remember Simon mentioning that name to me.” Clyde said. “Do you know where Byron took him?”
Dottie froze for a second. In the events of the past few minutes she had completely forgotten about Hawk.
“Oh my God!” She said. “Byron took him outside, they're going to kill him! I have to go to him now.”
Dottie made a motion to move but Clyde grabbed her by the arm, “You can't go out there without a gun.” He said and with great effort raised his large body slightly, pulled out the shotgun from underneath him and handed it over to Dottie. “You'll need this.”
Dottie took the gun from him uneasily, “I've never used a gun before.” She said. “I'm not sure I would know how.”
Clyde smiled, “It's easy. All you do is point it at the bad guy, then pull the trigger and the gun will do the rest. Just be sure to aim it a bit low as the barrel rises up a little when you shoot.” Clyde said. “Also, this is a pump action shotgun, which means you need to pump the lever back down and then up again to load a round into the chamber.”
Clyde mimicked the motion and Dottie nodded that she understood. “Think of it like milking a cow. There's a shell in there already, but when you fire it you'll need to pull it back down and up again to engage another round. Got it?”
> “Like milking a cow.” Dottie said pretending to work the pump lever. “I think I got it.”
“You're a bright girl.” Clyde said and dragged himself a few inches away from the front door so Dottie could get out. “Now go save our friend.”
“I'll come back.” She said standing up. “I promise.”
Clyde nodded, closed his eyes and lay his head back down on the pillow. He heard the door close and when he looked up again she was gone.
≈
Byron put the gun to Hawk's head and slowly pulled the trigger. Hawk heard the click of a trigger, braced himself for the impact to tear into his skull, but heard nothing. He opened his eyes, confused, looked up and saw the rest of them were just as confused as he was.
The gun wasn't loaded.
Byron looked down at the gun in his hand, checked the magazine, saw that it was empty and looked over at Travis. “You were in charge of loading all the guns this morning and the gun isn't even loaded? How the fuck do you expect me to kill someone with an unloaded weapon?”
Travis looked mortified, looked at Randall who shrugged, then looked back at Byron. “Sorry Byron, I'll run back inside and get some more bullets for...”
“Don't bother.” Byron said reaching over and grabbing the rifle from Etaro. “I'll shoot him with this since you're all so incompetent.”
He raised the gun to his shoulder, fixed Hawk's head in the rifle sights, Hawk shut his eyes again but this time something else happened. A woman's voice cut through the wind and the rain and the thrashing of the river which surprised all of them. Hawk recognized the voice immediately and somehow the sound of it brought him back to his senses and the clarity of survival returned. The voice was Dottie's. Somehow she'd escaped from her cell.
“Hold it right there Byron!”
Byron looked up from the rifle, turned his head a little to the right, saw Dottie there through the rain holding a shotgun aimed in his direction.
“Put that down!” She yelled.
Byron cracked a smile, shook his head, put his head back into the rifle sights ignoring her demands. He was just about to pull the trigger when a loud shot rang out and he jumped back as some shotgun pellets hit the ground near his feet.
“I said drop the gun Byron!” Dottie said. “I'm not afraid to shoot you.”
“Looks like someone's been doing a little target practice.” He said, still smiling. “Okay, you win Dottie. I'll drop the gun.” He slowly placed the rifle on the wet grass near his feet then stood back up. “There. See? No more gun.”
“And now the rest of you as well.” She ordered the others. “Let's see your pockets.”
They all complied, placing any weapons they had on the ground, and when Dottie was satisfied they were all unarmed shouted, “Now kick everything into the river. All of it.”
Byron shook his head. “Dottie, oh sweet little Dottie. Even if you make us get rid of our weapons there's no way you can get us all.”
“Now!” Dottie shouted stepping closer. And loaded another round into the chamber of the shotgun. Like milking a cow. She watched as they kicked their weapons over into the water then looked back at her.
“Now untie him.” She said nodding towards Hawk on the grass. Byron looked at Travis, nodded at him to comply and he got down on one knee, started loosening the knot on Hawk's wrists.
To her left she saw Etaro starting to edge closer, could hear him calling for her to lower her weapon.
“Come on baby, drop the gun, just give the gun to Etaro...”
“Back up!”
“Come on, you don't want to hurt Etaro do you? Just drop the gone baby and we'll forget all about it.”
“Back away Etaro!” She said trying to sound as serious as she could. “I don't want to shoot you.”
He kept getting closer and Dottie hesitated. She'd never shot anyone before and didn't want to kill this man. Yet he continued moving towards her until he was only a foot away. But it was no use. A second later Etaro had grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and tried wrestling it away from her. Byron and Randall saw the opportunity to get the gun away and quickly ran over, grabbed Dottie, but she held tightly onto the shotgun. Travis had left Hawk tied as well – although the knot was loosened now – and raced over to help get the gun away from her. Dottie held a firm grip on the end though and continued wrestling over the weapon with Etaro while Byron and Randall worked to loosen her grip from the handle. Dottie felt like they were winning, pulling her hand away from the trigger, and they might have as well had it not been for the grass. It was slippery out there, and between that and the wind it was hard for them to balance themselves properly, so Dottie held onto the weapon. Finally, the tide shifted and Dottie regained ground a little, managed to get her index finger back near the trigger guard on the shotgun; she struggled there for a second to get control, then felt the metal of the trigger and with a flick of her finger hit the trigger and the shotgun let out another blast.
Byron and Randall jumped back like they'd been electrocuted, frozen there for a second looking at themselves to make sure they hadn't been hit. Then they saw it. Etaro on the ground, half of his head blown apart by the blast, no way to save him now. Byron, Travis, and Randall stood there for a second, couldn't believe what had happened, and then Byron yelled: “Get the bitch!” And they rushed back towards her. “I want her alive!”
Before she could even think about reloading they had already swarmed her, pushing her back forcibly against the wall of the building, yanking the gun away from her nimble fingers. She tried snatching it back but they were too strong and held her there firmly. Byron checked the shotgun, saw it was out of shells and tossed it back on the wet ground.
Hawk had seen everything and was over on the grass trying to loosen the rest of the knot around his wrists. Travis had been foolish: He'd left the knot only half tied when he rushed away, and Hawk was feeling the tension loosen more by the minute. He'd been brought back to his senses now. Maybe it was the appearance of Dottie but he felt like he had a chance again, started to feel a new batch of adrenaline working inside of him and promised himself he wouldn't let his mind slip again. He saw they had her against the side of the building and that they'd taken control of the gun. Byron was starting to slap her around and he grabbed her by the chin and said something Hawk couldn't hear. Travis and Randall had forgotten about him for the moment too, their backs turned away from him.
Hawk struggled harder against the remaining tension in the knot and within another second had got the knot loose enough that he could fit his hands through. Travis was closest so he decided he would take care of him first. If he did it quietly the others wouldn't even notice as the wind and rain would drown out the sound. He pushed himself up, slipping a little on the wet grass, his clothing drenched from the rain, then crept silently towards Travis standing 3 metres ahead. He stepped over Etaro's body, moved in close right behind Travis and in a flash had cupped his right hand over his mouth and held his forehead in his left hand. Travis struggled to breathe and Hawk pressed harder, then dragged him back a few metres to the river's edge. He was watching Byron and Randall to make sure they didn't turn around and so far they hadn't seen or heard a thing. Byron was yelling something to Dottie and Randall was by his side, oblivious to the fact Travis wasn't behind him anymore.
Hawk still had Travis in his headlock, and Travis was throwing elbows into him, trying to get him to loosen his grip. Eventually he bent forward quickly and Hawk flew over his shoulders to the ground. They started getting into it then, wrestling on the wet grass, until Travis had gained control and sat astride Hawk, punching him in the head.
Byron and Randall had noticed the fight now and Randall made a move to intervene but Byron stopped him.
“He's got it under control, we'll finish them both off now. Go back inside and grab my revolver from the table. Make sure it's loaded as well. I'll keep her here in case she tries anything.” Randall nodded then left and Byron looked back at Dottie. “This is something I should hav
e done a long time ago. You've been trouble since the day I brought you here.”
“You need to keep me alive.” She said. “Or my father won't give you the money.”
Byron laughed “That's where you're wrong. I don't need you alive – or him. I'll simply kill him and take the money.”
“You really are a bastard.”
“The best there is sweetheart, the best there is.”
≈
Clyde was still on the floor inside, holding the bandage Dottie had wrapped around his abdomen. Slowly the pristine white had filtered through with blood from his stomach and he was feeling weak.
Was this how it was supposed to end? On a cold dark floor in some strange building? He'd always pictured being in a warm hospital bed surrounded by his family. He thought of Claire, Emily and Billy back home, wished they were by his side now. His mind was getting fuzzy from the loss of blood and he had a strange tingly sensation in his legs, like they were made of jello. Also he found it harder to breathe, and was starting to feel a harsh dampness creep through his organs – maybe it was how they said it would be when you die, he thought. The coldness and the loneliness – both of which he felt now.
He had managed to drag himself to a far corner of the living quarters, away from the door that let a draft in, and was leaned against a wall staring at nothing in particular. The storm outside seemed to be getting louder and the sound of the wind out there sounded menacing, like it would suck him up if he even dared to step out there. He had also heard gunshots as well, recognizing the sound of the shotgun he had given to Dottie, and hoped that she had used it to kill whoever was out there and had rescued Hawk. He was waiting now, watching the front door of the compound for them to come back in any second.
He was getting anxious waiting for them to return when the front door opened, and a large man with long black hair wearing a leather jacket came inside and forced the door closed behind him. Clyde didn't recognize him and he didn't seem to notice Clyde in the far corner either as he ran over to a table and started frantically searching for something there. He had his back turned away and Clyde could see that he had on the same jacket the rest of the gang wore with that strange cross insignia on the back. Clyde watched as the man picked up a revolver from the table, then seemed to be scanning the tabletop for bullets. He found some and was about to load them up when something to the left on the floor caught his eye. It was the woman, the one Dottie had killed with an axe, laying on the floor behind the couch. The man bent over her and Clyde lost sight of him for a second as he assumed he was checking to see if she was still alive.