The Haven Series (Book 2): Haven

by Brian M. Switzer

  “And one for yourself,” he said in a flat voice.

  The two men stared at one another for a long moment. Danny poured a third shot; one of Lavelle’s men laughed in the background.

  Danny lifted the shot glass in a mock toast. “Salud,” he said, and tossed it back.

  The man behind Lavelle squinted at him with bloodshot eyes. “Sa-lewd? What the fuck’s that? French?”

  Danny felt his ears getting warm and struggled to control his temper. “I got it from The Godfather. Must be Italian.”

  Lavelle spoke without turning around. “Lookee there, Lennie. We got us a feller speaks Eye-talian right here in Larry’s Bar.”

  Lenny laughed like the big ginger’s joke was the funniest he had heard all week.

  Danny considered pulling his pistol and going to work. The foursome was obviously looking for a fight- his best chance to come out on top was now, when he had the element of surprise working for him. Otherwise, he was in trouble because he was outnumbered. Justin was useless in a gunfight. Joe was tough and fearless but Danny had no idea how he would respond to shots flying around the room. And Tess and Tara were two of the toughest women he’d ever met, but a punch from one of these guys would be more than they could handle.

  Lavelle interrupted his thoughts. “So, who’s ya friends?”

  Justin looked at Danny, who nodded at him. “My name’s Justin.”

  Lavelle barked a laugh. “Damn, boy. Do ya always gotta get his permission to speak?” His men laughed again, a taunting, mocking sound.

  Justin flushed but didn’t respond.

  Joe glared at Lavelle, his expression filled with contempt. “I’m Joe,” he said in an even voice.

  Lavelle chortled and turned to face the ex-fireman. “Well, Joe, that’s right interesting. But what I really want to know is the names of the two honeys over at the table.” He raised his eyebrows.

  “I’m Tara and this is my sister Tess.” Tara’s voice was clear and calm, and she met Lavelle’s gaze without blinking. Tess, on the other hand, was nervous. She had her hands clasped in her lap and kept her gaze on the tavern floor.

  One of the men at the next table leaned toward the teenager. He had beady little pig’s eyes punched in a narrow face and thick, fleshy lips. “Yore pretty,” he told her in a raspy voice. He leaned closer, until his face was centimeters from her neck, and sniffed. “You smell good, too.”

  Tess kept her gaze glued to the floor and shuddered.

  “Hey!” Danny slammed his palm on the top of the bar. Everyone jumped at the sharp report. He stared hard at Lavelle. “Your boy’s out of line.”

  The stranger didn’t respond at first. Finally, he smirked at Danny. “You’re right.” He spun on his bar stool and called to the beady-eyed man. “Settle down, Billy.”

  Tess hugged her shoulders and didn’t look up.

  “You’ll have to forgive Billy, Miss. He ain’t seen a woman in a spell, and he sure ain’t seen one as pretty as you.” He turned away without waiting for a response.

  “That’s what we come in here to talk to you about. But first, is that your shiny Ford truck outside?”

  Danny nodded yes.

  Lavelle swiveled his big head. “Told you, Lennie.” He turned back to Danny. “Where’d you git all the plugs an’ shit in the back?”

  Justin spoke up before Danny could answer. “We got them at a dollar store down the road, back in Jasper.” Danny groaned to himself. He knew what was coming next.

  “Well see, that’s a problem, Jus-tin. ‘Cause we set in a little house down yonder and watched you bring it out the store across the way. First you stole from us, then you lied about it.”

  Lennie sneered at Justin. “I hate thievin’ liars. Any man who’d steal and then lie about it is lower than a copperhead.”

  Justin’s face was flushed. “Stole from you? How can you say you watched us take it from the store on one hand and then say we stole it on the other?”

  “Because this is their town and everything in it is there’s,” Danny said quietly.

  Lavelle rapped the bar three times with a big ring he wore on his middle finger. “Bingo! There’s a man that understands the situation. I can see why you’re the leader, Danny.”

  “Okay then. We know the game you’re playing. What do you want?”

  “It ain’t a game, son. You came into our town, stole from us, drank our liquor, then you lied to us about it. That about the size of it, Lennie?”

  “That sounds about right,” Lennie said in a solemn voice.

  “Normally we’d just kill anybody that offended us like that. But today’s your lucky day, Danny.”

  “How’s that?”

  “We’re gonna let you leave. You can even take the stuff you stole. I don’t reckon we have much need for a bunch of tampons and purdy smellin’ soaps.”

  Danny’s heart sank. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yassir. And all you got to do,” Lavelle half-turned his stool and pointed at Tara and Tess, “is leave us them women.”

  Throw Down in Carl Junction

  * * *

  “Well, that ain’t happenin’,” Danny said. He kept his voice even but stared hard at Lavelle.

  Joe stood up. “I second that,” he said in a conversational voice. From the sound of his voice, he could have been commenting on the weather.

  “I don’t think you boys understand.” Lavelle unfolded his bulk from the bar stool and stood as well. He directed his words at Danny. “We ain’t asking. Them girls is ours now. The only thing left for you to ponder on is whether you’re gonna git bent over that bar and dry-fucked by the four baddest motherfuckers you’ve ever met, and then git your throat cut. Or whether you’re gonna drive out of our town glad to be alive, with your assholes intact.” When he finished, he withdrew a long, thin switchblade from his coat pocket. He released the blade and five inches of steel sprung forth, glittering in the pale light.

  There’s your mistake, Danny thought. You brought a knife to a gunfight.

  Lavelle was still speaking, but his voice faded to a faint buzz in Danny’s ear. “The last feller we educated took his teachin’ with this blade in his ear. All it woulda took for me to push was for him to wail too loud or squirm too much. He didn’t enjoy himself.” Lavelle and his men laughed hard at that little story.

  After that, several things happened in quick succession.

  Tara swung an elbow at Billy, the redneck closest to her table. She connected with his windpipe and the blow made an audible ‘pop’. The impact knocked Billy out of his chair and he tumbled to the floor, clutching his throat and gasping. Tara’s momentum carried her out of her own chair and she tumbled to the ground beside him. Lenny jerked his handgun free and fired three shots at the spot where Tara had sat.

  Thinking Tara had been hit, Tess dove to the ground herself, screaming her sister’s name.

  Danny pulled his Beretta and shot twice at Lennie. One bullet hit him in the shoulder but before he reacted the other one made a small hole in the back of his head and obliterated the middle of his face in a spray of blood and broken teeth.

  Lavelle grimaced and threw his knife across the bar at Danny. It hit him on the shoulder hilt first and clattered to the ground out of his reach. He slapped at the holster on his right hip three times, trying (and failing) to pull his pistol.

  Joe pulled his own gun and emptied his magazine at Lavelle, missing him altogether.

  The fourth member of Lavelle’s crew stood up from his chair. He was short and fat, with a patch over his left eye. Ripping open his green pea coat, he pulled a short-barreled shotgun from a harness inside. He leveled the gun at Danny and pulled the trigger, the explosion ear-splitting in the small space.

  Danny saw the shotgun pointed at him and dropped behind the bar like a trap door had opened underneath him.

  Lavelle stood near enough to Danny that one of the shotgun pellets creased the side of the rednecks head. He clapped a hand over the wound and bellowed like a bear.

&n
bsp; Joe ejected his gun’s magazine, pulled another from a pouch on his vest, and slammed it home.

  Justin pointed his gun at different targets but had yet to pull the trigger. The man with the shotgun swiveled the barrel in his direction and aimed at his head.

  After the first shotgun blast, Tara rolled half a turn so that she lay at the shooter’s feet and pulled her knife from its sheath on her hip. As he lined up a shot at Justin, she reached over and stabbed him in the foot. The blade sank through the top of his boot, his foot, his boot’s sole, and into the floor below.

  He grunted, the pain and surprise causing him to jerk the barrel up just as he pulled the trigger. The pellets slammed into the roof above Justin’s head, raining chunks of tile and shards of brick down on him. Sure he was shot, he turned white and slipped to the floor.

  The fact that his foot was knifed to the floor and pain hit the shooter and he let loose a long, high-pitched wail.

  Lavelle realized his wound wasn’t mortal just before he noticed Danny held a gun inches from the big man’s head. Joe had approached him from the side and his pistol was inches away, too.

  “Wait,” he croaked.

  Danny and Joe fired.

  Tara jumped to her feet, Beretta in hand. She placed it against the temple of the man with the injured foot and cut off his wailing with a pull of the trigger.

  Billy had regained his footing and backed away from the table. He tried to raise his hands and hold his throat at the same time.

  Danny jumped the bar; he, Tara and Joe advanced on Billy, guns extended. He attempted to speak but could only produce a series of grunts.

  Tess turned to watch, her face pale save for a bright red spot on each cheek.

  Behind them, the front door exploded inward and two more men rushed through the doorway. They wore matching stocking caps and had grease-painted faces; they both had an assault rifle shouldered and aimed at Danny and his team. The new strangers moved like professional soldiers and barked commands at them as they approached.

  “Drop your weapons and do not move!”

  Danny’s shoulders slumped. He bent over and placed his Beretta on the ground beside him. Tara and Joe did the same.

  “Step away from your weapons! Now, turn and face me.”

  They turned. The newcomers studied them from behind their rifles. A long few seconds passed and nobody spoke. Then the pair looked at one another and lowered their guns.

  They both grinned, and the bigger of the two shook his head. “Holy shit! We’ve been tracking these scumbags since Chicago. I’m amazed you guys got the drop on them. They robbed, raped and murdered their way across half of Illinois and the whole state of Missouri.”

  The Bounty Hunters

  * * *

  Danny's emotions had whipsawed back and forth so many times he felt ragged. He cast an uneasy glance at the soldiers. "Wait a minute… You guys are here for them?"

  "We are," said the shorter of the pair. “When we started the chase there were twelve of them. A bunch of guys that were inmates in the county jail in Moline when the outbreak started. Most of them had died by the time the survivors found a way out the lockup. They were sick, starving, and looking for revenge."

  His partner, a tall black man who moved with fluid gracefulness, took up the story. "They killed every person in a little settlement outside Moline then drifted west and south, committing atrocities along the way. We would catch up, take a couple of them out, and then fight off the biters that the gunfire riled up while they took off. Otherwise, they never would have made it past the Mississippi River."

  Danny glared at Billy, the only redneck who remained. "Is that right, asshole? Are you a killer and rapist??"

  The redneck pulled his hands away from his throat and held them up before him in a placating fashion. "Man, I never killed nobody. I was only doing what I had to do to survive. I fell in with them boys because they kept me safe, but I never hurt nobody. If I'd been out there alone, the monsters would've got me."

  Danny pointed at Tess. "So what was that with her? Are you trying to say you wouldn't have raped her had we left them behind?"

  "No, I’d never hurt her! You gotta believe me. Hell, she’s so pretty. I would have protected her."

  Danny gave a disbelieving laugh and shook his head. He turned toward the men with the rifles. "Have you guys got names?"

  The taller of the two stood at attention. “Ex-gunnery sergeant Terrence Barnett and ex-company sergeant Riley Watson, U.S. Army, retired, at your service.” Terrence was tall, almost as tall as Jiri, and light-skinned, with a strong chin and squashed nose. He had an easy smile and friendly manner, but earlier, when he charged through the door armed and barking out orders, he was terrifying.

  Danny smiled. "I'll forget those ranks. I'm Danny, that's Joe, the girls are Tara and Tess, and Justin’s over there hiding behind the end of the bar.

  "So, you two have been hunting these guys. Was it with the intention of taking them back?"

  "No sir. We aim to rid the earth of scumbags."

  Billy whimpered while they talked. When there was a lull in the conversation, he tried to defend himself. "I'm sorry about the way things went down here. I swear to God I am. But don't listen to these guys. Look—"

  Danny hit him, hard, with a right cross to the jaw that drove him to his knees. "Shut up. Don't forget that whatever else happened, you took a shot at me, asshole. So shut your mouth unless you're spoken to."

  He left Billy in the care of Terrence and Riley and approached Tess, who sat at the bar, staring at a fixed point on the wall. He moseyed over and perched on the stool next to hers. "That was violent and scary. Are you all right?"

  A moment went by before she realized he was talking to her. But then her eyes focused on him and she gave him the tiniest of smiles. She took one of his hands in hers and looked at him with a sincere expression. "Yes, I'm fine."

  "Do you care what happens this guy?"

  "I don't want any woman ever to be in this situation again because of that piece of shit."

  Danny rapped the tabletop with his knuckles. “I guess that settles that.”

  Terrence and Riley stood close and spoke to one another quietly. Terrence nodded his head and cleared his voice. "Attention everybody. All that shooting is bound to bring the biters this way. We need to get done and get out of here."

  "They're right," Danny said. "Let's go." He caught Terrence's eye. "Do you want the honors?"

  Terrence dipped his head gestured at him. "By all means, go right ahead." He motioned with his head at the gun in Danny's holster. "Is that a Beretta nine?"

  Danny nodded that it was.

  He reached into a pouch tied around his waist and pulled out a metal cylinder. "Use this. It'll be quieter." He tossed the cylinder over.

  Danny caught it and examined it with a surprised expression. "Is that a suppressor?"

  "Yes. It'll keep things quieter."

  Billy figured out what was about to happen when Danny screwed the suppressor to the end of his pistol. He was still on his knees, looking down at the ground and crying softly. Now he fell over onto his back, held his hands out in front of him in a warding off gesture, and cried harder.

  "Please, Danny, please," he begged. "I didn't do anything, man. I wasn't going to do anything. Please don't kill me."

  "Is that all? Are you done?" Danny asked in a clipped tone of voice.

  Billy sobbed and muttered unintelligibly.

  Danny listened to him for a moment. "Uh huh," he said. The Beretta went CHUG three times and Billy lied still. Blood pooled around his head and chest.

  He unscrewed the suppressor and handed it back over the Terrence. "That's louder than I thought it would be.”

  Terrence laughed. "You watched too many movies back in the old days. It’s a flash suppressor, not a silencer.” He returned it to his pouch and readied to go.

  In the Alley

  * * *

  Terrence and Riley went out the same door they had kicked in, si
de-by-side with their rifles up. They sprang back inside almost at once; Riley pulled the broken door behind him and held it in place with his hand.

  “Biters coming,” Terrence declared.

  “How far back and how many?” Danny asked.

  “Two blocks, and a bunch. Looked like thirty-forty with more coming in off the side streets. They’re moving fast, for them.”

  “And we don’t have a front door,” Riley added, in case anyone had forgotten.

  “God damned shotgun,” Danny mumbled to himself. “There’s a back door.” He turned away from the two men. “My team, grab what you need. Be ready to bug out through the back.” He looked at Terrence. “Where are you parked?”

  “Humvee, on the other side of the street and a block down.” He pointed in the direction the creepers were coming from.

  “Are you guys with us?” Danny asked. It was more of a statement than a question.

  Terrence nodded. “Through thick and thin, my new brother.”

  The moans of the approaching herd floated through the evening air, along with the rustle of dozens of feet dragging across the pavement. If his group hunkered down and kept quiet, odds were the dead would pass right by and continue on in the same direction they were going- at least until some other stimuli pulled them somewhere else.

  But they couldn’t bar the tavern door. If a few of the creepers or the whole herd wanted in, there was nothing to stop them. They had to get out of there.

  Terrence slipped into master sergeant mode. “Out through the back; turn right; stop behind the building on the corner. Maybe we can sneak in behind them and get the truck after they’ve passed. If creepers are in the alley use your hand-to-hand weapons. Let’s try to avoid any more gunfire.”

  They formed a skirmish line behind him at the back door. When the first of the dead crossed in front of the tavern he pulled the door open and stuck his head out just far enough to look one way, and then the other.

  “Clear,” he hissed, and one by one they stepped into the alley.