by Harley Tate
He eased toward the counter, checking for any sign of Leah or Dan. Nothing.
Faith urged him on, darting past him and behind the bar. She whined and Grant hurried up. Broken glass crunched beneath Grant’s feet and he glanced down. A worn leather wallet sat on the floor. Grant picked it up and flicked it open.
Daniel Hostell.
Shit. Grant shoved Dan’s wallet into his pocket and hurried to the end of the bar. He looked in through the circular window to the kitchen. His lantern sat on the kitchen counter, casting enough light to banish the gloom to the corners.
Faith pawed at the door and Grant pushed it open. She scampered around a stretch of metal tables and disappeared.
“Faith!” Grant eased into the room with the gun straight out in front.
The dog whined and Grant rushed forward. “Oh, no. Not you, too.”
Dan sat against a tile wall, sweat coating his face and blood covering his hand. He clutched his belly and a wadded-up ball of towels. They dripped in blood.
Grant closed the distance between them and crouched at the man’s feet. “Dan? Can you hear me?”
The older man roused, his head rolling to the side as he looked up. He tried to smile, but it ended in a grimace. “Hey, Grant. Good to see you.”
“What the hell happened?”
“Those assholes from the neighborhood. Must have followed us here.”
Grant swallowed. “Where’s Leah?”
Dan tried to move, but fell back in a groan. “They took her.”
“What?” Grant fought the urge to scream. “Where?”
“Out the back.” Dan reached forward with his unsullied hand. “Go get the bastards.”
Grant rose up, but froze in the hallway. “I can’t leave you here.”
“You have to. You can’t let those men take Leah.” Dan coughed out a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here, waiting.”
Faith seemed to understand his predicament. From the wound to Dan’s stomach and the blood pooling around him, he probably wouldn’t make it. How could he leave a friend to die all alone?
She padded over to Dan and turned around in a circle beside him before lying down. Grant nodded at her. “You stay with him, okay? When this is all over, I’ll come back. I promise.”
Grant handed Dan the 20-gauge and forced his emotions back. Leah still needed him. He couldn’t stay and ease Dan’s suffering. He had to hope that Faith could do the job and that she would still be there when he returned.
Because he would be back. No matter what.
With one final goodbye, he raced to the rear of the kitchen. Leah was out there and he would find her. Grant jerked open the door as a pair of headlights bounced through the parking lot.
Diving for cover, Grant rolled behind the dumpster as the truck came into view. The overhead light to the cab shone down on four occupants. Mr. Unicorn in the passenger window, trying to light a cigarette, another man behind the wheel, and…
Damn it.
Susie sat beside the driver, face stricken in fear, cradling the unconscious form of Grant’s wife.
He jumped up and ran toward the Burger King where he stashed the Buick.
They can’t get away. If he lost them, he might never find his wife. Gone was the pain in his nose or the side or his head or the throb of broken ribs.
He fell into the driver’s seat and started the engine. As the headlights of the truck raced down the road, Grant eased out of the parking lot.
Chapter Twenty-Four
LEAH
Location Unknown
Wednesday, 2:00 a.m.
The truck bounced over a curb and Leah jolted into consciousness. The first thing she saw was four pairs of shoes: a small set of women’s hiking boots and a much larger pair of dirt-covered sneakers.
She blinked and sat up.
“Sleeping Beauty, welcome back.”
Leah jerked at the voice.
Mr. Unicorn took a drag off a cigarette. “For a while, I thought I hit you too hard.” He flicked the butt into the street and blew the smoke out the window. “Good thing I didn’t. No one pays for a dead girl.”
Leah shivered.
Next to her on the other side, Susie sat squished up against the driver, Rocky, the man with the spider tattoo. Its legs inked up across his chin and body stretched down over his Adam’s apple. Every time he swallowed, the spider’s head moved.
They pulled up behind a building and Rocky put the truck in park.
Mr. Unicorn opened the door and hopped out. He motioned for Leah to join him. “I don’t have all night. Come on.”
She slid across the bench seat and hesitated at the door. Mr. Unicorn sighed. “If you don’t come willingly, Rocky back there is going to pop your friend.”
Leah twisted around. Susie sat motionless, the barrel of a handgun shoved tight against her temple. Leah pressed her lips together and stepped out of the truck.
Rocky shoved Susie out after Leah and she stumbled. Her hands flew out in front of her and she landed on all fours on the cracked and broken pavement.
Mr. Unicorn motioned toward the building. “Let’s go.”
Leah helped Susie up and slipped her arm around her. Together, they followed their abductor toward a rusted metal door. Rocky took up the rear, gun pointed straight at the two of them.
There was no way to run. Even if Leah left Susie behind, she’d be shot before she cleared the lot. The moonlight beat the shadows back and she would have to travel too far before reaching the safety of the dark.
As Mr. Unicorn held the door open, Leah cut a final glance outside. Her only hope was that Grant found them before it was too late.
Rocky pushed her and Susie through the door and Leah gasped. In her imagination, she’d conjured a pandora’s box of horrors for the inside of the building: solitary chairs, zip ties, a dirty mattress on the floor.
What she saw couldn’t be more different. From the outside, the building appeared abandoned. From the inside, it teemed with life.
Lights were strung up all across the ceiling beams. She traced the lines to a collection of solar panels pointing at the glass ceiling. Smart. The lights would stay off during the day and collect the sun, and at night, they powered the operation before her.
Stretched out in front of them were row upon row of supplies. Untold cases of water. Stacks of protein powder and powered supplement shakes. More Gatorade than she’d ever seen in her whole life.
Paper towels, toilet paper, batteries. The supplies went on and on and on. She swallowed. In the far corner, an arsenal flanked the wall. Guns of every size and shape from teeny tiny to massive lined a peg board. Beneath it sat stacks and stacks of ammunition boxes. Next to that, nestled fat clumps of cigarette cartons and bottles of liquor.
Leah turned to her abductor. Maybe the unicorn mask made sense after all. “How did you do all this?”
He puffed out his chest in pride. “I ain’t no dumb sucker. The second the grid collapsed, we got to work.”
“Where did you get everything? Stores?”
“To start.” He hitched his thumbs into his belt loops. “But then we started hitting neighborhoods. That’s where we got most of the guns. The pawn shops are locked up tight. It would take a grenade launcher to get in.”
She snorted at the arsenal. “Don’t you have one?”
“Workin’ on it.”
“Do you have some massive compound?”
His brow knit. “What d’ya mean?”
“Who’s going to use all this stuff?”
Mr. Unicorn’s face broke into a grin. “I am, to start. But once everything calms down, it’s more of an insurance policy.”
“Against what?”
“Everything.” He ran his tongue across his lips. “He who has the most toys, wins.” He motioned to Rocky. “Enough chit-chat. Tie these hoes up and get me a drink.”
Susie’s eyes went wide as she stared at Leah and her whole body trembled. Leah propped up a brave smile and reached for her. �
�It’ll be okay.”
Rocky laughed. “You heard the boss. Get moving.” He pointed with his gun, herding Leah and Susie toward an unoccupied corner. As they walked, Leah ran through options in her mind.
She couldn’t run or fight back. Not without a distraction first.
Once they were restrained, she might never get free. She ran a tongue across her teeth and turned around. “Before you tie us up or whatever,” she flashed an apologetic smile, “I really need to pee.”
Rocky ignored her. “Sit.” He pointed at an area near the corner. “One here.” Susie headed straight for the spot and sat down with her back to the concrete block wall.
He moved and pointed to another spot at least ten feet away. “And one over here.”
Leah did a little dance, crossing and uncrossing her legs. “I’m serious. I need to go. If I can’t hold it, this whole place is going to reek like piss.”
Rocky frowned. After a moment, he motioned for her to stay still. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot you.” He shoved the gun in his waistband and walked over to the weapons.
Leah had her chance. She raced toward the supplies.
“Shit!” Rocky tore after her, pulling his gun from beneath his belt as Leah ducked behind a wall of Gatorade.
A shot rang out behind her. A case of Gatorade burst three feet from her head, spraying sticky liquid everywhere.
“What the—” Mr. Unicorn’s shout filled the warehouse. “Don’t shoot the loot!”
Leah ran down the aisle, ducking behind the stacks of bottles before sucking in a breath. There had to be a back door somewhere. Yes! She spotted a door with a push bar across it and took off, running as fast as she could.
As her fingers grazed the cold metal, an arm wrapped around her waist. Leah screamed and lashed out, kicking and bicycling her feet as the man lifted her off the ground. Her elbow collided with his gut and she gained an inch of breathing room.
It was enough. Her fingers slipped around the push bar, and Leah hung on, tearing herself away from the man.
She stumbled into the door, shoving it open and sucking in a breath of freedom. But the man came right behind. A fist landed brutally hard into her left kidney and all the air whooshed from her lungs.
Leah fell to her knees. Pain radiated across her back and deep into her gut. All the possible injuries burst on her consciousness like fireworks. Kidney failure, blood in the urine, broken ribs.
The man came at her again and she swerved in time to catch a blow from his foot across her forearm. Rocky. He’d gone from shooting to brute-force Neanderthal and Leah didn’t know how much more she could take.
Nausea rolled up her throat and everything burned. She staggered to her feet, saliva dripping from her lips and dribbling down her chin. This wasn’t like the movies, where girls in tight leather hit and punched and saved the day. This was brutal. Horrific.
Rocky ran at her, spider tattoo bulging as he opened his arms to tackle her in a bear hug. Leah fell back on the ground and rolled, trying to escape his paws. He landed on her back, all two hundred or more pounds of him, and Leah couldn’t even gasp.
He grabbed her arms and pinned them back before locking a zip tie around her wrists. He pulled so tight, the plastic dug into her skin. Blood slicked the teeth of the tie as he hauled her to her feet.
“You think you can get away from me?” His breath fanned hot and sour across her cheek.
Leah spat on the ground.
“You’re lucky the boss wants you in good condition.” He ground his pelvis against her backside and Leah fought down the panic. “Otherwise, you and me could have some fun.”
With one hand wrapped around her upper arm, Rocky hauled her back inside. He dragged her through the warehouse and tossed her against the wall. She landed hard on her side and slid to the floor, legs going out from under her as she collapsed.
Rocky motioned to Susie. “Let that be a lesson. You try to escape, you end up like her. Or worse.” He smoothed his hair off his face and straightened his shirt before walking over to the booze.
Mr. Unicorn sat in a leather club chair twenty feet away, watching the whole thing. He turned to Rocky. “Next time she tries to escape, all conditions are off.”
Rocky grinned and called out to Leah. “You hear that, chica? Next time, you and me get to have some fun.”
Leah leaned back against the wall and rolled her head to the side. She smacked her lips together to collect enough spit to speak. “How many are there?”
Susie glanced at Rocky with wide, terrified eyes. “Only those two.”
Leah nodded. “Next time, I’ll need your help.” She adjusted her body to relieve some of the tension in her shoulders and inhaled through her mouth. She would need to conserve all her strength for whatever came next. If she didn’t give it all she had, she probably wouldn’t survive.
Chapter Twenty-Five
GRANT
Unidentified Warehouse
Marietta, Georgia
Wednesday, 2:30 a.m.
Grant bit back a tortured scream. At least he knew Leah was alive. He’d parked the Buick two blocks away from the warehouse and crept up on foot in case the goons had watchers stationed outside. But so far, he’d seen no one except the leader and the guy who attacked his wife.
With Leah alive, but injured, he couldn’t bust into the warehouse without a plan. He needed to make sure he could rescue Leah and Susie and make it back out of there alive. For all he knew twenty guys could be in there, fully armed and waiting for an attack.
Once again, he had to be patient. It didn’t sit well with him. Last time, he found one dead friend and one with only hours left. If he took too long, he might find Leah the same way.
Grant checked both handguns. He had complete confidence in the Shield and two full magazines. The Glock hadn’t failed him yet, but he’d rather work with the gun he knew. He shoved the Glock in his waistband and eased closer to the building, keeping the Shield low and ready.
His ribs ached with every breath and Grant had given up breathing through his broken nose half an hour before. Dried blood caked his cheeks and his head throbbed from the earlier kick. He was lucky to be alive, much less standing.
As he circled the building, he assessed the means of entry. One metal door near the parked pickup. One out back where Leah almost escaped. High windows too far up the wall to either see in or climb out of.
That left the roof.
A fire escape ladder was mounted to the wall about two feet above Grant’s head. He holstered the Shield and gritted his teeth before jumping for the bottom rung. His ribs screamed as he stretched, but his fingers wrapped around the metal tube.
Hauling himself up an agonizing inch at a time, Grant clenched his jaw to keep from crying out. At last, he made it high enough to use his feet instead of his torso. He prayed for an easy way inside.
What he found was something all together different. Half of the roof was glass. Shaped like an upside-down V, the old-school atrium occupied the entire middle section of the rooftop.
Grant rubbed his cheek and flakes of blood fluttered to his feet. No one built businesses like it anymore. The warehouse had to be close to a hundred years old. Using the natural sunlight during day, it would have meant little to no electrical costs for the owner.
Now it meant Mr. Unicorn could see during the daytime as well as he could outside. Grant eased forward. The entire place was lit with strings of lights. Grant spied the solar panels lashed to the roof beams and shook his head.
He’d underestimated the mask-wearing gang. Not only did they figure out a way to have lights, but by the looks of the warehouse, they also knew how to hoard. Grant couldn’t count the cases of water or the boxes of liquor. The place looked like a distribution hub for a shipping company, not an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere.
Working his way around the windows, he searched for Leah. He found her slumped over in the corner with Susie a few feet away. She wasn’t moving.
Grant clen
ched his fist and talked himself off the ledge. Maybe she was asleep or conserving her strength. Lack of motion didn’t mean death. He tore his gaze from his wife and searched for the boss.
He found him in an overstuffed leather chair, one leg dangling over an arm, a glass of something in his hand. The man who fought Leah sat next to him, also drinking.
Two confirmed threats.
With systematic steps, Grant canvassed the rest of the warehouse from above. No one else was inside, but an entire back corner was stocked with weapons.
Grant leaned back as ideas percolated in his mind. They weren’t expecting him, that much was clear. He could take his time and prepare the right kind of ambush.
After a few minutes, he decided on a plan and hurried down the fire escape.
It took ten agonizing minutes to fish out two unbroken beer bottles from the dumpsters behind the building next door, but Grant couldn’t work his plan without them. After loping back to the Buick, he tore a few inches off the bottom of his T-shirt and ripped it into strips.
Into the beer bottles went gas from the red gas can Grant and Susie had filled up at the car dealership and then the strips of shirt. When they were ready, Grant rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath.
It was time to put his plan into motion. He opened the door to the Buick, pushed the cigarette lighter in and waited. As soon as it popped out, he gabbed it and ran, two bottles in one hand, lighter in the other.
He leapt for the fire escape ladder and ignored the pain. Every second mattered now. The moment he cleared the roof’s ledge, Grant shoved the T-shirt from the first bottle into the end of the lighter and prayed.
If he’d taken too long, the coils wouldn’t be hot enough to set the cotton on fire. After a few agonizing moments, smoke wafted up from the shirt and the fabric caught. Grant dropped the lighter on the ground and used the burning shirt to light the second.
With two burning Molotov cocktails in his hands, Grant hurried over to the glass roof. He set one bottle down and picked up a chunk of broken-off brick. With all his might, he threw it at the pane of glass directly over the relaxing men.