by Warren Ray
Scar wasn’t sure which way to go and looked up into the cloudy night sky to find the North Star. It took a few seconds to find it and he then led the men west hoping to run into the river. The only questions remaining were; how far was it from their present position, and what was in their way? They came to a ten-foot wooden fence and Bassett fell to the ground to act as a step. Burns jumped over first, followed by Nordell and Scar. Bassett then backed up, ran toward it, and leaped up grabbing the top. Scar led the men across the back lot of another large building where there were more shipping containers. They ran between them to find a parking lot that emptied out onto a street. The big railroad containers kept them hidden while Scar stopped to catch his breath and figure out his next move. No doubt, Wilson will try to catch them without alerting the whole police force because then he’d have to explain why there were cops from Detroit lurking around. This would be an advantage, at least while they were on this side of the river. Once they got back across he had no doubt Captain Vatter would have his forces out looking for them. Tires squealed in the night as the cops left the warehouse to begin the manhunt. Up ahead a few cars sat in the parking lot, and Scar wished Nate were here to hotwire one of them. A locomotive horn broke through the night air and the distinctive clacking noises made by the train made became more pronounced. Scar remembered the tracks led to the chemical production area bordering the river. He strained his eyes across the lot and could barely make out that the road became an overpass, which meant it crossed over the railroad tracks. This is where he wanted to go. This would lead them to the river. He turned to tell the men when a cop car came barreling into the parking lot and stopped. Four men, armed with long rifles, exited the squad car and began to approach their position.
Chapter 58
Scar, watching the four cops using minimal caution as they approached their position, figured they were on a fishing expedition. The cops didn’t know where they were, but were in a hurry to cross the most logical area off their list.
Scar ordered everyone to the other end of the containers hoping to avoid a conflict with these cops or at the very least take them out quietly. A shootout would only alert everyone to their whereabouts.
A beam of light flashed down the center of the containers just as they turned the corner. The light moved around and kept moving, which meant the cops were walking between the containers.
Nordell got closer to Scar and whispered. “We need to take them out.”
Scar nodded and motioned Bassett to flank them. If nothing else, they’d have wheels to get to the river faster.
Bassett reached for the knife Scar had just given him. He stole a quick look around the corner. The coast was clear, so he charged down the side of the container with Burns on his heels. He pulled up at the end for another peek to find a lone cop standing guard. He turned to Burns and held up one finger.
Bassett tightened his grip on the knife handle and took in a deep breath before springing up around the corner. The moonless night and his silent approach gave him an edge as he wrapped his hand around the cop’s mouth. In one motion, he slit his throat and carried the limp body out of sight.
Bassett then looked down between the containers. The three remaining cops continued toward the other end unaware of the impending danger. Bassett began to slide toward them, as Burns stood in a Weaver Stance with the .40 caliber pistol ready to take them down if necessary. Bassett was waiting for Scar and Nordell to engage them when they reached the end. Then he would strike the third cop at the last second. If he acted too soon, the other two cops would be in play. All three were at the ready with their guns leading the way.
Bassett lowered his body as the cops came to the end. He heard the cracking of skulls before seeing the two cops fall to the ground. He jumped up and was about to thrust his knife into his target when the cop fell to his knees with his hands in the air. Bassett pulled back the knife but jumped on top of him.
“Please don’t kill me.”
Bassett recognized the voice of Quinn Johnson, the man who served with the Calgary Highlanders. Bassett pulled out a pistol and pointed it at his head.
“Don’t move a muscle, Quinn,” ordered Bassett.
“I won’t, please just don’t shoot me.”
Bassett kicked the rifle away and then removed the sidearm handing it to Scar as he approached.
Scar looked down at him. “Stand him up.”
Bassett helped the cop up.
“Care to tell me what the hell’s going on?” asked Scar.
“It’s Sergeant Wilson, sir. He’s the one that had the bright idea of turning you over for the reward.”
“Then why are you helping?”
“If I didn’t, he’d make my life miserable.”
Nordell came forward. “Oh, so you didn’t do it for the money, huh?”
Quinn shook his head. “I didn’t even know who you guys were until yesterday.”
Scar decided this man could help them. “Look, Quinn is it?”
He nodded.
“Help us get out of here and you can go about your merry way and say whatever you want, I don’t really care. Deal?”
“I can do that.”
“Good. You got the keys to that car.”
He nodded.
Everyone piled into the car with Bassett taking the driver’s seat. Quinn sat between Burns and Nordell in the backseat.
“Take a left up on Confederation Street. It’ll take you to the river,” said Quinn.
Bassett looked both ways before zipping out of the parking lot. He heard the radio chatter come alive on the police radio, but it wasn’t about them. So far, Wilson hadn’t spilled the beans, which would work in their favor. The only problem was the cops from Detroit. They would make getting back to Jackson a challenge. He wasn’t sure how many were in the area or how many they had across the river.
Bassett spun the wheels as he took a left down Confederation. The long straight road had little traffic and he reminded himself that he was driving a police car. No one would give them a second look, as long as it wasn’t another policeman. Bassett wanted to ask Scar about Hadley but didn’t want to relay any information to Quinn despite how helpful he was being at the moment. Alliances quickly turned in war, especially when you’re a prisoner. Bassett looked at Scar in the passenger seat and tapped him on the leg.
“Don?” was the only word he said.
“Yeah, I don’t know.”
“Are you headed to your canoe?” asked Quinn.
“Why?”
“I heard him say he sank it.”
Scar grimaced. “Any suggestions?”
“I can help you get another one.”
Scar turned around in his seat to look at Quinn. “You can? Where?”
Chapter 59
Port Huron Michigan
Amber helped Reese adjust the straps on the night vision goggles after she pulled her hair back in a ponytail. She then moved the weapon out of the way so she could loop the case of the big binoculars around her neck. The breeze from across the river cooled the air enough that both were glad they had brought their dark running jackets. It was pitch black on this side of the river, and they disappeared into the night as they moved closer to the water. The walk across the field was fascinating because of all the twinkling lights on the Canadian side. They were everywhere, in homes, office buildings, streetlights, and the cars that drove the streets. Neither Amber nor Reese had seen anything like it for so long they couldn’t help but be mesmerized.
“Look at it,” said Reese, “it’s so pretty.”
“Isn’t it though? I can’t remember the last time I saw city lights.”
“Oh man, wouldn’t you just love to be able to walk those streets,” said Reese as she sat down on the park bench. “Can you imagine just walking along and stopping to get some pizza.”
“A beer would be better.”
“I’ve never been to a bar,” said Reese.
“You haven’t?”
“I’m on
ly twenty, remember.”
“No fake ID?”
“No, I was never bold enough.”
Amber started laughing. “You’re bold enough now, aren’t cha?”
Reese flipped up the goggles. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? How one can, like, change themselves completely in a matter of months.”
“That much, huh?”
“Amber, I was, like, the biggest wimp-dog around. Didn’t get into any kind of trouble because I was always scared I’d get caught.”
Amber’s laugh continued to build.
“I know…I was a big baby.”
Amber held up a finger. “Bu…bu…but you’re such a badass now, I mean what the hell girl.”
Reese joined in the laughter.
“Can you imagine being at your high school reunion,” said Amber between breaths.
“Oh, hell, all them bitches would be all fat and preggers with baby-snot running down their dresses.”
Amber smacked Reese on the arm trying to catch her breath. “I can see it now, you’d walk in there dressed to the nines, with your rocking body, swinging Glocks on each hip.”
“Not taking crap from anybody,” said Reese.
“But giving it, asking what they did to save America.”
“Hell ya, asking if their butts were cowering over in Canada like a bunch of little bitches.”
“Tell ‘em sister.”
Reese slowed it down. “Eh…it’ll never happen. Hell, they’re probably all dead anyway.”
“Ya think?”
“Yeah, there were still a bunch of dumb-assess, like my mom and me, that stuck around when the cops came in.”
Amber let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, us too.”
“You know when you look back on it…were we that naïve or just stupid.”
“A little bit of both, I suppose.”
“Oh well, enough of that, I don’t like talking about it anyway.”
“Me either, but I’d still like to see you rocking a dress with holsters.”
“You know, next time we’re in Canada, I might just try that look.”
“Hell, why wait, when we get back to Jackson, let’s find a couple of pretty dresses.”
Reese gave her a profound look. “Definitely.”
Amber pulled the Night Optics D-321B-AG binoculars out of the waterproof case. She powered the Gen 3 glasses on and carefully put the strap around her neck knowing these babies cost well over seven grand. The 3.6 magnification green hued vision was enough to see the shoreline across the river. She moved them up and down the river looking for a canoe or boat. There was nothing but a light chop on the river, so she raised them up and scanned the streets of Sarnia. She watched a car drive along the parallel street before making a right hand turn. She was disappointed when she didn’t see anyone walking around. She would have liked to imagine what they were thinking and where they were going.
She continued to scan the streets before turning back to the river hoping to see a boat crossing the water with Scar and the boys in it. A flashing light to the south caught her attention. She moved the glasses over when she noticed two Canadian police cars cruising the street with their emergency lights flashing. Both were using spotlights to light up the side of the road. A chill ran through her. Were they looking for Scar?
“Reese, over there,” Amber said pointing south across the water.
“What is it?”
“Couple of cop cars.”
“Let me see those.”
Amber pulled the strap off her neck and handed the binoculars to Reese. Without using the strap, she looked through them.
“They’re looking for someone all right.”
Amber flipped her goggles down while standing up and walking to the shoreline. She scanned the water for any sign of a boat. As she looked across the water, she noticed more flashing lights.
“Is that another one?”
“Yep.”
Amber walked back to Reese, who still sat on the park bench. “I better call Meeks.”
“Probably a good idea,” said Reese, as she continued staring through the glasses, “these guys are out of their cars now and looking at the water.”
Amber keyed the radio and reported in.
“Sounds like our boys might have escaped,” said Meeks.
“Let's hope so,” said Amber as she sat back down next to Reese.
“Keep me posted, over.”
Amber put the radio away just as headlights lit up the darkness behind them on Griswold Street. She grabbed Reese by the arm and pulled her to the ground. “Someone’s coming.”
Reese spun around on her stomach and pulled her crutch off the bench. She raised the binoculars, but couldn’t see past the bright headlights. Another car came up behind the first one. Both started coming down the street toward them.
Amber grabbed the radio. “We’ve got company, I repeat, we’ve got company.”
It took a long agonizing second before Meeks responded. “Who are they?”
It took a few moments for Amber to figure out who they were. She clicked the button. “Cops and we’re out in the open, we’re busted here.”
“Stay tight, we’ll get ya help.”
Amber looked around the wide-open field realizing they had nowhere to go and nothing to use as cover. Running wasn’t an option because of Reese’s leg, but it was too late anyway as the cop cars had gotten to the end of the street and stopped with their headlights pointing their way.
“We’ll only get one chance at this,” said Reese, pulling back the bolt on the Colt M-4 carbine.
“There’s always the river,” said Amber.
“Oh God, that’s gotta be cold.”
“Better cold than dead.”
Reese turned to her. “I suppose.”
“Be nice to know how many there are.”
The two cars began moving again and as they headed toward the water, they began to put some separation between them.
“C’mon, just spread out a little bit further, please,” said Reese.
The headlights from the cars now lit up the field on either side of the girls, which left some breathing room. However, they were actually in a worse situation because they were caught in the middle. Consequently, they now had two fronts to control and nowhere to go.
Chapter 60
Sarnia Ontario
Taking Quinn Johnson hostage proved to be a good move because he directed them to where they could pick up another boat. Had they not taken him hostage, they would have wasted precious time only to find their canoe was sunk and risked exposure as the cops would have expected them to go there.
Bassett continued to drive down Confederation Street before Quinn told him to take a left on the next street.
“I’ve got a buddy who has a boat.”
Scar turned in his seat. “Will this buddy of yours let you borrow it?”
“Yeah, I mean you got guns.”
Scar let out a scoff. “Let’s get something straight, alright. I don’t want to point a gun at some poor innocent guy. We came over here to buy food for a town that is starving, with money we no longer have. We escaped back there because you forced our hand.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to him, I’m sure it’ll be alright.”
“Will it hold five people?” asked Burns.
“Five?” asked Quinn.
“Yeah, you’re coming with us.”
“But you said you’d let me go.”
“Someone has to bring the boat back.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
Bassett slowed down and took a left on Proctor Street. Quinn leaned forward and pointed to the house. “Back it in. There’s a hitch on this thing.”
An eighteen-foot skiff sat in the driveway. It was nothing fancy and with five people it would be a tight fit. The problem now was finding a place to launch it.
Scar opened the door and waited for Quinn to get out. “Don’t force my hand, okay?”
“I won’t.”
An outdoor f
loodlight came on and the side door opened up.
“Quinn, is that you?”
“Hey, Scottie. How’s it going?”
“Good, man, how’s it going with you, eh?”
“Need a big favor from ya.”
Scottie approached them holding a beer. He looked like he had consumed several before this one and was in a jocular mood.
“Scottie, these are some friends of mine and they need to get across the river.”
“Hey,” said Scottie toasting them with his beer, “Americans, huh? You guys want a beer, eh?”
Scar turned to him. “Wish we could join ya, but we’re kinda in a hurry.”
“Oh, that’s too bad, but no problem…sure you can use my boot.”
Scottie's drunken slur made Scar chuckle. “Sure would appreciate it.”
Burns approached Scottie. “Hey, is there a launch site somewhere close?”
Scottie took a swig and thought for a moment. “Not if you’re in a hurry.”
“And if we are in a hurry?”
“Well heck, just take it down to Chemical Valley and throw it in.”
Burns turned to Quinn for clarification.
“It’s down at the end of the street. We can go through the gate and it’ll take us right to the water.”
“There’s five of ya,” said Scottie swerving his head, “you guys can easily pick her up but be gentle with her.”
“She got gas in her?” asked Burns.
“Plenty.”
“Well, let’s go, boys, times a wasting,” said an impatient Nordell.
Scar agreed and everyone approached the boat and hooked it up to the trailer hitch. It only took a minute before the boat was secure and they all thanked Scottie, who made a final offer of a beer.