"Francesco," he replied. "We do not have long."
"What's going on?"
Francesco went over to the door, opened it a fraction and listened. Satisfied they were not being overheard, he took them as far away from the door as possible. "The man who calls himself Fisher, he is a fraud. He wants to set up his own Gilead. He's a predator and you must get away."
"He calls himself Fisher? Isn't that his name?"
Francesco shook his head. "No. I don't know what he was called before, but he is no man of God. He's a businessman. Owns half of Manhattan if his bragging is true. Not that I'm supposed to know. Wrong place, wrong time. The so-called General who runs his militia, he knows the truth. Ran his security. "
"Well, now he's figured that the real currency isn't money, it's people. Especially women," Francesco continued.
"He's planning to repopulate the city?" Solly said, not bothering to hide his incredulity.
Francesco gave a grim smile. "That is what he tells others, but the truth is he uses the women to keep his men in line. Some, like my wife, he holds as hostages. Others, he hands out among those animals as rewards for good behavior."
"Where's your wife now?"
"Gone. Escaped, maybe. Killed, probably."
Solly grasped his hand again. "I'm so sorry."
"You must get away and soon. Once they recruit you into the militia, it will become very hard for you to get to your woman and son."
For a moment, Solly didn't understand what the man was saying.
"I'm not his son," Ross said. "We're going to Texas together. My gramma lives there."
"And she's not ‘my woman,’" Solly added.
Ross swung on him. "So, we're just going to leave her here? You can't be serious!"
Solly grabbed him by the arms. "Quiet down! No, we're not going to leave her behind, but we need level heads. Can I rely on you, Ross?"
The boy nodded, his anger fading as quickly as it had arrived.
"Whatever you're going to do, do it tonight," Francesco said. "If she hasn't already had Fisher's slimy hands all over her, he'll certainly visit her once you're all asleep. Now, I must go or I'll be missed. They know I'm a trouble maker, but while people are in short supply, they tolerate me. If they catch me, though..." He ran his finger across his throat and then turned to go.
"Tell me one more thing," Solly said. "Does anyone know what happened? Why did everyone die? Terrorists?"
Francesco paused with his hand on the door. "Ask Fisher and he'll tell you it was God's retribution. Me, I think it was this." He tapped the BonesWare on his wrist, checked that there was no one near the door, and slipped away.
It was after one in the morning by the time the last of the men went to bed, and Solly gave it another hour before sliding out of his bag and feeling his way over to Ross. He'd moved his pack into a corner of the room and had been quietly transferring his stuff into it. The sleeping bag, however, would have to stay. Ross jumped as Solly put his hand over his mouth but, as he came around, Solly could feel him nodding his understanding and they crept out of the room, packs in hand.
The two of them sneaked along corridors lit by only the occasional red emergency light toward the auditorium. The changing rooms, where the women were housed, would be behind the stage, Solly hoped, though he didn't know how they were going to work out which was Janice's. Once they'd found her, and persuaded her to come, they'd then have to find their way back to the stairwell with the spilled paint, up to the office and out through the window. As panic began to well in his stomach, Solly forced his mind to concentrate on finding her first. One thing at a time.
Solly pushed the door of the auditorium open, wincing as it squeaked. It was a black emptiness. He could hear Ross fiddling with his flashlight. "No. Hold onto my hand and we'll go single file."
He felt his way down the central aisle and toward the stage. Every moment he expected to feel its hard edge on his outstretched hand, but when it finally came he let out a muffled yelp as his fingers bent back under his momentum. After a second to recover, he moved along the stage front until he reached the steps at their side. He pulled Ross up after him. He thought the boy's hand was shaking, and then realized he was too.
Thick velvet drapes lined the edge of the stage and, as he pulled them apart, he shrunk back from the sudden light. He grabbed his gun and stepped away, but it wasn't coming from an approaching guard; it looked as though the backstage area was lit.
He gestured to Ross to follow him. No sign of any movement. They passed stage paraphernalia piled in corners as if ready for the next show and then they found a row of white dressing room doors.
Solly guessed that she would be in either the first room or the last in the row. It seemed to him that the leaders would want their victim to be as far from where people gathered as possible. The furthest room from the stage, then.
Lifting his gun, Solly nodded to Ross and they moved silently along the row until they stood outside the last door. Solly pressed his ear to it and then, to his horror, he heard voices. Not in the room, but approaching the backstage area. Ross had also heard them and he pulled on Solly's arm. They ran back along the row and disappeared around the corner just as Fisher and “General” O'Dowd appeared at the other end.
Solly could tell they were drunk from here.
"No, Jack, give me one more try, then you can have her. If she doesn't play ball, I'll have to get nasty."
O'Dowd chuckled. "Don't you go ruinin' that sweet meat for the rest of us, Bobby."
"The rest of who?" Fisher said. "You want her as much as I do. Nice and fine. Coffee skin, curly hair, couldn't be better. When you've had her, you won't want any of your men getting their dirty hands on her pretty behind."
Solly felt white hot rage threatening to overwhelm him.
"Now then, Bobby, don't go gettin' selfish. You're a pastor now, after all."
The voice of Fisher turned cold. "And I'm your boss, Jack. Don't you forget it."
There was silence for a moment. "Okay, boss. You help yourself tonight. I'm too tuckered anyway. See you in the mornin'." His voice was conciliatory, but Solly detected a hint of resentment as the booted feet retreated.
He risked a peep around the corner and was just in time to see Fisher open the door and, with an evil smile, walk into the room.
Solly used the energy of his rage to fuel him as he ran along the row of doors, followed by Ross. He put his ear to the door but could hear nothing other than a muffled sound and the noise of steps on the floor.
He raised his gun and threw the door open. Fisher stood, in the act of undoing his belt, facing Janice who lay on the bed, her hands tied behind her back and her mouth gagged.
"Say a word and I'll shoot!" Solly hissed as the predator whirled around. "See to Janice," he added to Ross.
Ross pushed past Fisher and pulled a hunting knife from his pack to slice through her bonds. She wrapped her arms around him, tears falling down her cheeks as she gazed at Solly, her expression a mixture of fear and relief.
"Now what do you intend to do?" Fisher said. He was putting on a brave performance, Solly thought, but all the color had drained from his face. "If you shoot me, every man in the building will be upon you in minutes."
"Tie him up and gag him," Solly said to Ross.
He watched as Ross used the gaffer tape he'd cut from around Janice's wrist to secure Fisher. Janice tore off his tie and shoved it in his mouth before sealing it with a final piece of tape. Ross then removed the man's shoelaces and used them to tie his feet together.
"That'll have to do," Solly said.
"But he'll send them after us!" Janice spat. "We'll never get away if we leave him alive. Do you know what he tried to do to me last night? Do you?"
Solly stepped forward to reassure her, but as he did so, Fisher hopped toward the door. In a blur of movement, Janice grabbed him. Solly saw steel flashing. He pushed Fisher, but the man's face contorted in agony and he dropped to the floor.
"Come on!" Solly hissed as Jani
ce brought the knife up again and stood over the prone man. "Come on! You're not a killer. Don't have this on your conscience. We've done enough. Let's go."
Solly shrunk from the hatred in her eyes as she looked at him.
"Give me the knife back," Ross said, calmly. In an instant, Janice relaxed, deflated and handed the weapon to Ross.
Taking one look back at Fisher, Solly could see red spreading like spilled ink through his dark trousers. She'd missed his heart, but had, perhaps, still dealt a fatal blow.
He pulled the door shut and set off after them. As they ran through the darkness, they waited for the cry to go up.
Chapter 13
Solly's heart was pounding as he ran up the metal stairway toward the office that he and Ross had cleared the previous morning. He could see nothing in the darkness, but he knew he needed to go up two flights, so he used the handrail and trusted to luck that he wouldn't trip and fall. He could hear Janice on the steps behind him, moving as quietly and quickly as the others toward their only hope of escape.
They'd almost reached the top of the second flight when they heard the door below swing open and the sound of pursuing voices. Panic ripped through Solly's gut as he held the landing door open and ushered the others through.
"Hurry!" he hissed. "You know where the office is, see if you can smash the window."
Ross led Janice away, using the faint light coming in through the outer windows to guide him, and Solly opened the stairway door a fraction. He could hear hurrying steps. Time to give them something to think about. They clearly knew the direction Solly and the others were heading in, so there was no sense in trying to hide or sneak around. He pulled Mona's revolver from his pocket and pointed it over the rail and into the darkness below before pulling the trigger.
A cry went up as the report ricocheted around the stairwell and Solly slammed the door shut before running blindly through the darkness toward where he thought the office was. A hand grabbed him, and he was about to strike out when Janice called, "In here!"
He could see Ross outlined in the moonlight. The window was still shut. "Stand back," Solly called. He brought his gun to bear and the window exploded outwards. "Come on, but mind the glass."
Solly pulled the largest remaining fragments from the frame to create a safe route for them to get out, one leg at a time, onto the metal framed fire escape outside. If only he'd had time to spot where the outer door was, they could have been away by now. Janice was the last one out, and she'd just reached the top of the flight of steps down when they heard voices above them.
"It's this one! They've gotten away!"
Shots rang out, bullets bouncing from the railings. Their pursuers were shooting blindly, and it would be sheer bad luck if any found a target. But then, luck had been in short supply lately.
As they neared the bottom, they felt the vibration of many feet on the steps above and knew the hunt was up.
They emerged onto a narrow street and paused for a moment to catch their breath. "We need to head toward the tunnel," Solly said. To the right, he could see nothing but the black shapes of blocks rising out of the darkness. To the left, the sky was more open. "I guess the river's that way," he said. It stood to reason, but it was still little more than a guess.
They crossed the little road and ran alongside what looked like a space for sports, probably basketball, surrounded by a chain-link fence. Keeping low, Solly led them along it as quickly as they could manage. Janice hadn't had time to put on her walking boots, so she was running in the light sneakers she'd been given. She'd found a dressing gown, but otherwise was dressed for sleep, not a nighttime escape in winter.
Cries broke the silence. Cries of discovery or frustration? Solly couldn't tell. They were at a massive intersection and it was too dark to read any of the signs. He felt the breeze on his face, tasted the rain in the air and, scanning the skyline, picked the direction with the fewest tall buildings, knowing that he might be leading them entirely astray. Calls from behind drove him to decide.
He could hear Janice shivering beside him. "Here," he said as he took off his coat and gave it to her.
"Let's go," he said, and he led them across the wide open space toward the shelter of the buildings opposite.
They'd just crossed the road when a shot rang out. Close. Too close. They ran along shop fronts before crossing a small road to hear, of all things, the rustling of trees in the breeze. "It's here!" Ross called. He was ahead of the adults and was standing at an intersection pointing up at a sign.
Solly squinted, suddenly jealous of Ross's youthful night vision.
"It says Holland Tunnel," he said, gesturing up at the others as if they were blind.
Then, as they were about to cross the road, a cry went up. They'd been discovered. "You two, run toward the tunnel. Find some cover near the entrance; you don't want to be going inside tonight—we don't know what's in there."
"What are you going to do?" Janice asked as Ross hurried over the road.
Solly patted her arm and then pushed her away. "I'm going to wait here and see who's following us."
She planted a quick kiss on his cheek and ran off. Solly felt welcome warmth course through his body as he selected a place to watch and wait. He darted back the way he'd come to the little park and hid behind the last tree.
He didn't have to wait long, just long enough to wonder how many bullets he had left in the cylinder. Mona had used one, and he'd used two, hadn't he? Or was it three? And what if the gun hadn't been fully loaded in the first place? No time to check now as he heard footsteps on the street.
He didn't recognize either of the voices. Good, if they were being sent out in pairs then they hadn't had eyes on their quarry for a while and were fanning out like a net. He couldn't just shoot them —partly because that would bring the whole search party down on them in minutes, but also because, despite the experiences of the past week, Solly was no more of a cold-blooded murderer now than he had been before the world fell apart.
But he had to do something. He sneaked further into the park, keeping his eyes on the pursuers, and then picked up a fallen branch and smashed it against a tree. They swung around and immediately ran in his direction. Solly bolted along the road that ran parallel to where he'd sent Ross and Janice—there was no sense in shaking off his hunters only to also lose his way back to his friends.
He could hear them calling behind him with crackles cutting in between their words. Dammit, they have radios! The whole pack of them would be on top of him any time now. He darted into a block entrance and pushed at the door. It opened, and he went inside, immediately tripping over debris that littered the floor. He groped around in the darkness until his fingers wrapped around a smooth, stick-like object that he instantly recognized. He was no sportsman, but he knew a baseball bat when he felt it.
Solly got back to his feet and then froze as he heard voices.
"I saw him, I tell you. Came in here. Probably trying to find a way out back right now. But, I mean, what sort of moron hides out in a baseball museum?"
"Well, I ain't going in. Best to wait here till the boss arrives."
"Idiot! The boss is laid out. Might not make it from what I hear. O'Dowd's in charge."
The other speaker made a disapproving noise. Solly sighed. These guys didn't seem to be villains and he bore no grudge against them, but if he didn't act now, he'd never get away.
He picked up some fallen object and lobbed it further into the store.
"He's there!" One of them said, and he heard movement.
Solly crept back toward the door. They'd fallen for the oldest trick in the book. Or had they?
"Put it down," said a voice he recognized as one of the speakers. So, only his friend had taken the bait.
The man held a knife in one hand and a handgun in the other.
Without thinking, Solly swung the bat. It fizzed through the air, but his opponent ducked just in time and slashed upwards with his knife. Solly felt the breeze as the blade narro
wly missed his face.
"We been told to bring you in alive, but I reckon the boss'd settle for dead if I shot you by accident," he said, before looking beyond Solly and calling out, "Hey Rossi, he's here."
The instant the man's gaze had left him, Solly leaped, swinging the bat with all his strength. With a crack, it caught the man's wrist and he fell to the floor with a cry of anger and pain. A shot passed Solly's ear from within the store and smashed the glass of the doorway.
He ran out of the entrance and accelerated into the dark streets just as the other man reached them. He disappeared into the night, imagining running footsteps all around.
Crossing the road, he retraced his steps to where he'd separated from Janice and Ross. He waited in the shadows, his ears straining for any noise at all. Nothing. New York slept. It was just after 3 a.m., so there were still several hours to go before dawn. If the others had followed his instructions, they'd have found somewhere near the tunnel entrance to hide until daylight. That meant there was every chance he'd miss them, so his safest bet was to wait near here, looking out for anyone following them. With any luck, he'd made them think he was heading into the heart of the city, but he'd learned not to trust chance.
He took up station behind the tree he'd used to ambush his pursuers earlier. Hunkering down, he wrapped his arms around himself against the cold and rummaged in his pack for an energy bar and a sweatshirt. He began to breathe more easily as the minutes ticked by and his body warmed a little. His mind began to drift. Did he kill that man or just wound him? It was all very well being logical—kill or be killed—but he was no assassin, he was Solly Masters, unemployed app developer whose only previous experience of violence had been playing Call of Duty on his Xbox.
What have I become these past seven days?
He thought of Janice and Ross hiding somewhere out there. Then his mind flitted to Bella, Maddie and Jake back in Texas.
What had he become? What he needed to be.
He drew in a panicked breath as he woke. A sunbeam was glinting off one of the buildings. He'd been asleep for hours. Jumping up, he looked around the little park. Nothing was moving, though he sensed that the survivors of New York would soon be out scavenging. Solly stooped to pick up a piece of paper that had fluttered down as he'd stood.
The Long Night Box Set Page 11