Lowering her voice, she replied. “Look, one of us should be with the girls in every dangerous situation, just in case…” She shook her head, then went on. “On top of that, we don’t know the new guy yet. Stay close and keep an eye on him. You’re better suited to do that, should things get...I don’t know.”
Daniel considered everything she’d presented. ‘Damn it, why’d she always have to be right?’
Nodding, he agreed. “Okay.” He raised a finger and pointed it at her. “But be careful.” Looking over at Logan, he directed the man. “Watch over her for me, okay?”
Logan nodded. “Of course. One team, one fight.”
Serafina took the lead, holding her gun at waist height as she walked along the path that led from the parking lot towards the main entrance. The grass on either side of the path was overgrown, and weeds had popped up in numerous places, but it was still mostly green. On the fence that marked the edge of the church’s property, a black cat watched the two figures, looking bored as it did.
Near the rear corner of the building, Serafina followed a shorter path that led to the back entrance. As they approached, they slowed and she looked back at Logan questioningly.
He nodded, then spoke in quiet tones. “Knock, then stay up against the wall.” He patted his gun. “I’ll keep this pointed at the opening, should anyone try something.”
“Got it.” She did as he instructed, rapping her knuckles on the door three times and standing aside. At first, she heard nothing, then approaching footsteps. The door opened almost immediately, revealing an elderly Hispanic man, with black hair that was heavily streaked with grey. Standing about five foot nine and thin as a rail, he wore the standard all black outfit with the white collar. Looking outward, he was met with the barrel of Logan’s gun, which caused his brown, wrinkled face to frown in concern.
He brought his hands up to his sides. “There’s nothing here you would want, my son.”
Serafina stepped back from the wall and over to Logan’s side so she could face the man. Reaching over, she placed her hand on top of the man’s rifle and pushed it downward. “We’re just looking for somewhere to stay, Father.”
The man nodded and stepped aside. “Please, come in. Like I said, I don’t have much, but what I do have, I’d be happy to share.”
Serafina leaned over and looked into the building’s interior. “Are there others with you?”
The priest shook his head. “Sadly, no. Initially, there were a handful of God’s children here with me, but they left early on, wanting to find their loved ones. They never returned.” He shrugged slightly. “It’s just been Romeo and I for the last week and a half or so. Honestly, I’ve kind of lost track of time.”
“Romeo?”
The man smiled and pointed toward the cat on the fence, who had sat up and was watching their exchange with interest. “That’s Romeo. He’s a good cat, but he can’t stand being cooped up inside, so in the morning,” he leaned outward and pointed towards a small, stained glass window above a small portion of sloped roof above their heads, “I open the window and he goes out to adventure. Most of the time, that’s about as far as he goes.”
Serafina smiled, thinking of her cats, which Janet and Douglas had been nice enough to care for while they took Isabella north. She missed them fiercely, but was glad they were in good hands. Knowing the priest had a cat as a companion made her feel better about the situation. Animals have a keen sense of knowing the good people from bad ones, and cats simply won’t bother giving a bad person their time or company.
Smiling, she asked, “Mind if we take a look around?” She gestured towards the two cars. “There are nine of us, so we should make sure there’s room before I have them come in.”
“Of course,” the man replied, standing aside. “My name is Rolando, by the way.” He bowed slightly, then smiled again. “Please come in.”
“Thank you Father. My name is Serafina, this is Logan.”
With that, they made their way inside, where they found a large empty chamber filled wooden pews and tiled floors. The room was still lit by the day’s sun, which shone through the large stained glass windows that lined either side of the hall. Numerous kerosene lanterns hung from metal hooks on the walls, their warm, yellow light adding to the fading light of the day. A thin red carpet lined the center walkway between the rows of benches, leading to the dais. The central area of the dais was covered in a thicker red rug, which was trimmed with gold fringes. The lectern, which was draped in an ornate satin cloth, stood at the center of the dais. Mounted high on the rear wall was a large cross, showing the crucifiction of Jesus.
The place was empty and eerily quiet.
A rustling above and to her right made both Serafina and Logan spin on their heels, their hands tightening on their weapons.
Romeo climbed in through the window and sat on the sill. His eyes watched them while his tail whipped slowly back and forth.
The priest gestured towards the large hall. “I don’t think the benches would be comfortable for sleeping, but I do have spare blankets, so perhaps the carpeted portion of the hall?”
Serafina smiled. “Thank you, Father. I think that would work just fine for the night.”
Rolando smiled as well. “Wonderful. Romeo and I would enjoy the company. Shall I help you with your things?”
“No, we can get it just fine.” She turned and looked at Logan. “Do you mind helping Father Rolando with the blankets? I’ll get the others.”
The lean, muscled man nodded. “Sure.” He looked towards the other man. “Lead the way, Father.”
Serafina headed back outside and walked back to the cars. Looking at Daniel and the girls, she nodded. “Looks good. Just the priest and his cat.”
Daniel smiled. “I saw the cat. Kinda chunky. The priest must feed him well.”
Once they’d brought everything they needed for the night inside, they made sure the cars were locked and headed inside. The sun was nearly gone for the day, and without the usual lights of the city, numerous stars were already visible in the sky.
Inside the church, Isabella sat with Father Rolando, crying softly as she spoke with him. The Father had offered to hold mass, but Serafina and the others politely declined, thanking him for the offer. Isabella, however, having been baptized Catholic, felt right at home sitting and talking with the man, asking him to make sense of the insanity that had overtaken the world.
Nearby, Logan reclined on one of the benches, stretching out his legs as he leaned his head back and rested his eyes. Almost unconsciously, his right hand deftly spun a knife in it, its blade reflecting the light of the lanterns that adorned the walls.
Walking over to him, the newcomer to the group sat down. “You’re pretty handy with that. You been in combat?”
Logan glanced over at the man. “Yeah. Quite a bit, actually.”
Joe Reilley nodded, looking down at the floor. “I thought about joining the military when I was a teenager. Got a job and girlfriend, then eventually went to college. Before I knew it, I was too old.”
Logan grunted non committedly. He’d heard the ‘almost joined the military’ line too many times to count, and honestly, he didn't give a shit if people did or didn’t join. Some, like him and Daniel, chose to serve the country, and it was a deal they made with the government. Give and take. They gave, and the government took. For those who went a different route, that was fine. As long as they hadn’t walked away or hidden when the government called on them, like those who’d dodged the draft during the Vietnam War, he didn’t have an issue with them.
“What kinda gun you got there?” Joe asked, looking across Logan’s body at the rifle that laid on the pew.
Eyes still closed, Logan let the knife stop its spin and come to rest in his hand as he replied. “Standard AR-15. Nothing special. Got it from some guy before we headed north.”
Joe nodded. “Cool. Can I check it out?”
“No.”
“What?”
Opening
his eyes, he turned to look at the other man. “I don’t like people touching my gun. Once I have it, I get used to it. Every little nuance associated with the gun is something I take the time to get to know. If someone else holds it, something changes. I don’t like that. It could affect me when I need it most.” Having said his peace, he leaned his head back again and closed his eyes.
“Oh,” the man replied, looking confused. “Okay. You’re probably right. I don’t know anything about guns, really. I’ve fired one at the gun ranges a few times, you know, the ones they have there that they let you use for a fee? But that’s about it.”
“Unh hunh.”
Changing the subject, Joe asked, “How’d you end up with these folks anyway?”
“They’re heading north, just like me. I like the family. Good people.”
“What’s the deal with the little Mexican girl?”
“Look, Joe, I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m trying to relax here for a bit, so if you don’t mind, I’d like some peace and quiet.”
“Oh. Alright, sorry.” The man stood up and walked over to where Daniel was putting out the food they’d be eating for dinner on the little folding table the priest had provided.
Opening his eyes just slightly, Logan watched the man walk away. Something wasn’t quite right about him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Ventura, California
Using the thin, flat tool he’d found worked perfectly for the task, Chadwick Beaumont gently lifted the latch for the window. Once it was clear of its seat, he maintained control of it and lowered it off to the side, ensuring it didn’t fall against the frame of the window.
Silence was the key. The risk of entering a house with three armed military men inside was huge, but as he thought about the blonde woman’s delectable body, he told himself it would be worth it. Besides, she’d be his shield the whole time.
He just needed to get to her side without waking her.
Placing one hand flat against the glass of the window, he moved it slowly to the side, keeping his other hand ready to press against the frame, should it begin to move too fast. Once the window was open, he reached up with one hand and quietly slid the drapes to the side. Without the presence of streetlights or lights from other homes, the darkness of the room remained unchanged.
He peered into the room, searching for and finding what he’d expected. The woman lay in the center of the large bed, her two children each sleeping on opposite sides of her.
Leaning forward, he looked inside the room to make sure there was nothing in the way of his entry. Seeing nothing but hardwood floors under the window, he stepped off of the small step ladder he’d positioned outside the window and lowered his right leg into the room, moved his body through the window, then brought the other leg inside. As his left foot came down, the wood floor creaked slightly, causing him to freeze. He looked towards the bed, watching for signs of stirring from the three figures.
Nothing.
Exhaling slowly and quietly, he crept forward, bringing his knife up. His footsteps made no sound as he crossed the small area between the window and the bed. Reaching across the sleeping form of the little girl, he placed his right hand over the woman’s mouth and nose, then leaned in and used his left hand to press the knife against the side of her throat.
Her eyes opened instantly, filled with terror. Staring down at her, he felt the surge of endorphins race through his body as he was filled with excitement.
She was about to be his.
‘All mine to play with,’ he thought. ‘This will be fu - ’
A steel-like grip grasped his left bicep as he was pulled away from the bed, the thumb sinking hard into the inside of his bicep, hitting a nerve. His grip on the blade was gone in an instant, sending the knife clattering to the floor. Something hard slammed upwards into his chin from below, snapping his head back.
The room somehow got darker as he collapsed to the floor.
Head and neck aching, Chadwick Beaumont struggled to open his eyes. At first, they refused to cooperate as his mind told him to keep resting, to allow his body to recover from the force of the impact he’d endured. A different part of his mind told him he needed to open his eyes to see where he was, what kind of threat he was faced with, and how he could fight back.
Blinking, his eyes revealed the interior of a garage, cluttered with old tools, camping items, bicycles, and landscaping equipment. The spot that would normally be occupied by a car was empty, leaving an open space in the center of the small garage.
The three military men stood in front of him, flanking the blonde woman.
The Hispanic-looking man stared at him. “Well, now, what the fuck are we supposed to do with you?”
Serrano watched the man struggle against the ropes that bound him and smiled. He had plenty of experience tying knots in the ropes he used to bind prisoners. There was no way the man was going to free himself. If the man pulled too hard, it would simply tighten the bind.
After several moments of futility, the man gave up.
“Well?” Serrano asked.
Looking up at him through semi-glazed eyes, the man asked, “Well, what?”
Serrano stepped over in front of the man and squatted down. Pulling out the long blade he kept strapped to his thigh, he held it up. Reaching into the pocket on the other leg of his pants, he withdrew the man’s knife. Bringing it up to compare it with his own, Serrano grinned.
“Mine’s bigger.”
The man stared back at him through eyes filled with barely contained rage. “Untie me.”
Serrano laughed. “Yeah, right. In what universe would you think that we’d let you go after you threatened our friend here?”
The man sneered. “You’re not the police. You’re military. You have no authority here. Let me go.”
Serrano was about to reply when he felt someone brush by him.
It was Sarah. A loud slap echoed inside the garage as the man’s head was rocked to the side by the force of her blow.
‘She must work out,’ Serrano said to himself, smiling. Lowering one knee to the ground, he scooted himself off to the side, out of her way.
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
The man scoffed and looked away.
Tossing the man’s knife aside, Serrano pointed the blade of his own knife downward and pressed it through the fabric of the man’s sneakers until he felt it reach the top of the man’s foot. The man’s head turned as he stared down at his foot, his eyes bulging in his head.
“I suggest you answer the lady,” Serrano growled.
Looking up at Sarah with contempt, the man asked, “What was your question?”
Eyes filled with fury, Sarah repeated her question, then added, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Whoever you think you are, you’re just a little piece of shit. As a matter of fact, I’ll bet I could kick your ass.”
Chadwick Beaumont scoffed. “Yeah, right, bitch.”
Serrano leaned forward a bit, pressing the blade downward, piercing the skin. “The foot consists of dozens of small bones, connected with an equal amount of ligaments and tendons. If you want to keep all of yours intact, I suggest you watch how you speak to the lady.”
“Owww! Alright!”
Stepping back, Sarah said, “Untie him.”
Serrano and Beaumont looked at her in shock. “What?” Serrano asked.
“You heard me.” Leaning down, she brought her face close to Beaumont’s. “I’m gonna kick your ass myself.”
Standing up, Serrano gently grabbed her arm and pulled her over to where Aaron and Phillip stood. Leaning closer to her, he was about to speak when she cut him off with her hand.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve got this. Trust me.”
Serrano stared into her eyes, noting the anger there. After a few seconds he nodded. “Okay. Aaron, stay here. Phillip hang out by the other door. We don’t want this guy trying to run.”
The two men nodded and moved into position while Serrano retrie
ved the man’s knife, folding it closed before stashing it in his pocket again.
“Alright, tough guy,” he began as he moved behind the man to untie the ropes that held him in place, “it’s you and her, one on one.”
Bewildered at the sudden change of circumstances, Beaumont asked, “What the hell is going on here?”
Serrano leaned closer, bringing his mouth near the man’s ear. “You two are gonna fight. She says she can kick your ass.” Laughing, he added, “I think that would be awesome to watch.”
Bringing his arms in front of him, the man rubbed his wrists where the ropes had been tightly wound. “This is ridiculous. I’m not gonna fight a woman.”
His head snapped back from the force of Sarah’s punch. He tasted blood.
“Yes, you are,” the blonde woman said. “I held back on that one. Don’t think I’ll do that again. Now, get up.”
Beaumont rose to his feet slowly, bringing his hands up as he looked back at the woman. “What’s in it for me?”
Serrano walked over to a spot near the garage door and leaned against the wall casually. “I don’t think you have a choice here, tough guy. Fight back, or just take your ass whoopin’.”
Beaumont sneered as he brought up his fists. “Fine. I’m sure you guys are gonna jump in and help her though, once I start to kick her - ”
Sarah’s right foot connected with the center of his chest, knocking him backwards.
“Enough talking, bitch,” she said, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet.
‘Bitch? She called me a bitch?’ He asked himself incredulously. ‘I’ll show her who’s the bitch!’ Lunging forward, he threw a roundhouse punch at the woman.
His fist found nothing but air in the second before hers hit him squarely in the space directly below his armpit, sending waves of pain through his torso.
‘What the fuck?’ He wondered. Shaking his head, he moved his arm in tight circles as he tried to work through the tightness he suddenly felt in his side. Keeping his fists up, he advanced slowly on the woman, closing the gap between them. Looking in her eyes, he saw the thing he hated to see most in women.
Surviving Rage | Book 3 Page 26