“I said what’s your name, fella?”
The man didn’t answer. He took a nervous step back.
Kenny saw what Step had seen, and worked his way around to the back of the protesters unnoticed.
Step kept his eyes on the man who wouldn’t answer him. To Darnell he asked, “You know him?”
Darnell craned his neck and looked at the man he had identified as the shooter. “Not before today, but he’s all right.”
“How do you know?”
“’Cause he’s standing up for the Second Amendment.”
Without another word, Step raised his gun and fired above the shooter’s head. The women and most of the open-carry demonstrators dropped to the ground, screaming bloody murder. The only ones left standing were the men who didn’t fit in. They all trained their guns on Step.
“Just exercising my Second Amendment right, fellas,” Step said with a grin.
“We’re taking it back, motherfucker,” the shooter said with a scowl.
“Got no idea what ‘it’ is, but you may want to put those fancy guns of yours down.”
The shooter and the other misfits chuckled. “The Gray Rise don’t put their weapons down.”
“Suit yourself, but y’all fucked up.”
“How’s that?”
“You didn’t protect your six.”
With that, Kenny fired from behind them and dropped the misfit on the far end. The other misfits froze.
“The flank, boys,” Step said. “That’s battle strategy 101. Put those fancy guns down or lose another man.”
Kenny fired again and put the misfit next in line down.
“Shit,” Step said, “hold your fire. I’m in the middle of negotiations.” He addressed the misfits. “Now, seeing how you give up the rear boys, you are fucked six ways to Sunday. Move too fast, and you’ll catch a bullet to the back of the head. Draw down on me? Bullet to the exact same location. Anything other than disarming results in a bullet to same spot.”
Two misfits quickly put their guns down.
“Pick up your goddamn weapons,” the shooter said.
“That would not work out well for you,” Step assured them.
The shooter turned to Step. “Better you have your men shoot us all in the backs like cowards than us relinquishing our weapons.”
Step shrugged and shot the shooter between the eyes. “Back, front, it don’t make no difference to me.”
The remaining misfits laid their weapons on the ground.
Chapter 98
Dani had crossed the walkway overlooking the atrium. Peering over as she did, she’d seen students huddled together in various nooks and crannies, crying, consoling one another, praying. A few were checking their cellphones for reception, but there was none to be had. The landlines in the building had most likely all been cut. There was nothing to do but hide and wait.
Dani approached the open door to the student council room. The sounds of restrained sobbing cranked up her adrenaline as she pressed her back against the wall next to the doorframe. The deputy’s hands began to shake as her nerves started to come undone. There were a lot of people in the room crying. Dozens, maybe. That many hostages would require more than two assholes with guns. A lot more.
At a snail’s pace, she leaned away from the wall, looked past the doorjamb for a silent five count, and pulled her head back.
There were probably fifty people sitting in an audience, with six or so sitting at a dais on a stage. Dani spotted three gunmen. One at each end of the table, and one on the floor pacing in front of the audience. There had to be more.
She took another look, allowing herself an eight count. Two more gunmen. Both patrolling the hostages on the left side of the room. Dani had to assume that there were two more on the right side of the room where she couldn’t see because of the position of the door.
She contorted her body slightly to wiggle her shoulder free of the assault rifle’s strap and then examined the gun. She’d never held anything like it. It was light, almost impossibly so. She’d fired an AR-15 before, and she hadn’t liked it. It was a showpiece that had more kick than necessary. It was twice as heavy as the gun she now held in her hands.
Walking into the room wielding the assault rifle made things a little less ridiculous for her. She’d at least be holding a formidable weapon. A weapon she’d never fired before, and had no feeling for. She opted to go in with her service gun. She knew it. She trusted herself with it.
She squatted and looked past the doorjamb. The room was designed for theater seating, meaning there was a slight decline from the back of the room to the stage. If she was lucky, she could enter the room without being seen.
She stood and stepped away from the door. As quietly and quickly as she could, she freed herself of the assault rifle, her jacket, gun belt, and her Baptist Flats Sheriff’s Department shirt, leaving her in a gray undershirt and making her look about thirty percent less like a cop. As long as no one saw her ugly polyester pants and cop boots, she just might pass for a student.
Crouching again, she closed her eyes and said a quiet “Please let this work,” to no one in particular and crab-walked into the room, her gun in hand but concealed by her side.
Once inside the small auditorium, she stopped and looked to her right. As she had predicted, there were two more gunmen patrolling that end of the room. The other gunmen were all in the same positions that they had been in before.
Dani scanned the back row of people and looked for the nearest empty seat. A few frightened faces looked back at her, and she urged them to stay quiet by placing her index finger to her lips. They timidly complied.
She spotted an empty seat to her left, but she’d have to make it to the aisle, and make her way over to it. Doing so carried a great risk of being discovered. After looking for any other option, she maneuvered to her belly and crawled to the aisle. Peering down the raked path to the stage, she noticed that the only gunman who had a clear view of her was the one at the front of the stage, but only when he was pacing to her right. When he changed direction, she had about eight seconds to crawl into the aisle and then move up the row, out of sight.
She let him pace three times back and forth before she made her move. Getting down the aisle was no problem, but when she started to pull herself up the row, the people sitting in the seats yelped at the sight of her at their feet. After their initial shock, they realized what she was doing and made room for her to pass.
The man at the front of the room looked in their direction. “What the fuck are you people doing?”
No one responded while Dani continued to make her way to an empty seat.
The man took a step up the aisle with his eyes locked on the last row of people. “I told you folks to be quiet. It don’t sound like you’re being quiet. GC One Payne!”
Oliver answered from the stage at the left of the dais. “Sir, Master General, sir?”
“Are these folks being quiet like I asked?”
“No, sir, Master General, sir. They are not.”
“Thank you for that confirmation, soldier.” Harley turned his attention to the back row. “GC One Payne has just confirmed that you are disobeying my orders.”
The row of people fidgeted in their seats and held back nervous squeals.
“Payne, pick three people of your choosing and shoot them in the head.”
Squeals from everybody escaped. An elderly gentleman in the front row stood. “This isn’t necessary…”
Harley shut him up with a bullet to the throat.
Screams followed. People reflexively emerged from their seats.
Harley fired his weapon into the ceiling.
The screaming intensified.
“Everyone shut the fuck up!”
The screams turned to soft wailing.
Dani took the opportunity to make it to her feet and plant herself in the empty chair.
“Sit the fuck down!”
The hostages quickly complied.
“Payne
!”
“Yes, Master General, sir!”
“You may now pick two people in the last row and blow their brains out.”
Oliver hesitated.
“Payne!”
The GC One shook the hesitation loose, hurried off of the stage, and double-timed it up the aisle to the last row.
The two girls on the end vacillated between standing and remaining in their seats. They screeched uncontrollably as their bodies tensed more the closer Oliver drew.
Dani sat six seats away, her gun hidden between her leg and the seat. She watched Oliver approach their row and saw something in his eyes. Empathy. Sweat streamed down his face. He did not want to carry out the master general’s orders.
Oliver reached the row and stopped. The butt of his gun was perched under his arm as he studied the faces of the people, each one winced when his gaze fell upon them.
Dani’s eyes shifted back and forth as she tried to formulate some sort of plan. She was outgunned, but she couldn’t just sit there while he picked out two people to shoot in the head. She decided she had only one move, play to the empathy she thought she saw.
While the others avoided eye contact, she turned to him and locked on to his face. He didn’t notice she was looking at him at first because he was searching for his own way out of the master general’s orders. When he saw no way out, he lifted the barrel of the gun and aimed it at the young man sitting next to Dani. His finger flexed around the trigger, but he stopped short of pulling it when he saw Dani gently lay a hand on the leg of the man he was about to shoot. The gesture threw him. He locked eyes with her. She smiled, slowly pulled the gun out of its hiding place, and set it on her lap.
Oliver looked at her, confused. His eyes bounced from the gun to her smile. Dani did a single, almost imperceptible shake of her head.
“Hey!” Harley shouted.
Oliver held Dani’s gaze for a beat before turning to the master general.
“Pick your two and bring them onstage. I’ve decided we need to give our hosts a little show.”
Before Oliver could make his choice, Dani stood, placing the gun down the back of her pants, and helping the young man next to her to his feet.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Just do what I say, and everything will be okay.” She didn’t know what she was going to say to him to make everything okay, but the plan was coming together on the fly.
Her first hurdle was hoping she had read Oliver correctly. She found herself giving him a pleading look as she stepped into the aisle.
Chapter 99
Nola took three quick breaths to gather her courage and stepped over the body of the militiaman in the doorway of the bus. Staying low, she looked past the partition into the aisle between passenger seats, pulling back when she heard the sounds of thick-soled shoes scraping against the floor of the bus. She grimaced and groaned. She hadn’t gotten a head count. She still didn’t know how many shooters she was dealing with.
She stepped out of the bus, pressed herself against the cab, and considered her options. They were at a stalemate, and she had a feeling the shooters would stay hidden until she made the first move. She knew two things. They felt trapped, and they were heavily armed. Maybe she could use that against them. She searched the dead Gray Rise soldier’s body and found a full clip of ammo in his pocket.
Leaning inside the door, she yelled, “Fire in the hole,” tossed the clip over the first row of seats and fired her gun into the driver’s seat. She then stepped back to the front tire and waited for remaining Gray Rise members to emerge.
The first one stumbled over his fallen comrade’s body and his arms flailed wildly as he tried to regain his balance. His assault rifle in his right hand, he inadvertently fired into the paved parking lot. Nola fired a shot that entered his armpit, causing him to collapse to the pavement. His forehead scraped the ground as he lost consciousness.
The second one managed to hurdle the Gray Rise member who’d been blocking the doorway, but couldn’t avoid the militiaman who’d just taken a bullet to the underarm. He tripped and lost his grip on his rifle.
He managed to right himself and instinctively bolted toward his weapon.
A third and final Gray Rise member anticipated Nola’s position and fired in her general direction, striking her only once in the arm with a barrage of bullets. She popped off four successive shots that hit her target from the base of the neck to the top of the head.
Having retrieved his weapon, the other militiaman turned on her. She managed to roll under the bus just as the first shots were fired. She quickly dumped the empty shells from her revolver, reached into her pocket, and let the expletives fly as she realized her remaining ammo had spilled out of her pocket.
Nola froze as the militiaman’s boots approached. He bent his head down, smiled at his quarry, and laid flat on his belly. Peering at her through his gun’s sight, he said, “Ima scatter your fucking brains, bitch.”
The words had no sooner left his mouth when a torrent of gunfire drowned out everything but the sounds of Nola’s labored breathing and rapid heartbeat. The militiaman’s body convulsed and jumped with each shot. The explosion of sound eventually subsided as blood from the militiaman rushed across the pavement.
Kenny’s round face appeared upside down in Nola’s line of sight. “It’s me. It’s Kenny. Asked you to dance before. Remember? You never did give me an answer on that.”
Nola recognized Kenny’s face and chuckled as a wave of relief came over her.
“I can do all kinds of moves on the dance floor. I won’t disappoint you at all.”
Nola crawled toward him, gritting her teeth to soothe the pain in her arm. “Kenny, my friend, you have earned yourself a dance.”
Kenny reached out to help her. “Well, I am pleased about that. We should probably get to know one another anyway.”
“Why’s that?”
“I got a feeling me and you and the rest of us is gonna have a lot of good times like this together.”
“Good times?” Nola said, grabbing his hands.
“Any day you don’t come out dead is ’bout as good as you can expect ’round here.”
Chapter 100
Dani could feel Oliver staring at her from behind as they walked down the aisle. The kid in front of her took methodical steps with pleading looks to people on both sides of the aisle. Every one of them turned away.
“Now,” Harley said, “you will be happy to know that not all of us are going to die here today. I’m not dying. I can guarantee you that. I am the father of this motherfucking revolution. I can’t die.
“Most of you, well, I ain’t gonna lie, most of you will die. Can’t be helped.” He laughed. “This rebellion has its sponsors, and sponsors want ratings. Ratings in hostage situations have everything to do with body count. In a way, y’all are funding this fucking thing.”
He held up his gun. “This here is a AK-OS 555 assault rifle. It’s important that everyone here remember that. The AK-OS 555 assault rifle!”
Frightened stares looked back at him as Dani and the kid were pushed to the front of the room by Oliver.
“Repeat what I just said, people!”
Everyone looked around the room, waiting for someone to be the first to speak.
Harley fired into the ceiling. “Repeat what I said! Now!”
A quiet smattering of voices complied.
“Together! Louder!”
After a few more failed attempts, the room erupted. “AK-OS 555 assault rifle!”
Harley smiled. “Very good! Very nice! Street name is the Chaos Triple Five. You don’t have to repeat that, but if you wanna look cool if and when you get outta here, that’s what you should call it. These fuckers are going to fly off the shelves when this thing’s over. And you people will have been on the fucking ground floor. You will have been smack-dab in the fucking middle of the birth of Chaos!”
Oliver was staring at the gun sticking out of the back of Dani’s pants. The training he had endure
d to be part of this moment flooded every synapse in his memory banks. Dani’s gun threatened to make the hell he’d gone through completely meaningless. He turned his focus to Harley, the person he feared most on this planet. The temptation to win favor with him moved him to clear his throat. He was going to tell Harley about the gun. He was going get the approval that he craved from his tormentor.
“Payne!” Harley barked. “What is your malfunction?”
Oliver swallowed the dryness in his mouth and said, “Sir?”
“You’re fucking staring at me with that ugly ape face of yours! You’re making me look bad!”
“There’s…She’s…”
Dani dropped her chin. He was about to give her up. The element of surprise was about to be blown.
“She’s what, dumbass? Jesus Christ, you’re a fucking waste of…” Harley snapped his fingers. “Wait, are you trying to tell me you wanna break off a piece of that before we shred her? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Sir? No…”
“You are a fucking pervert, Payne. There’s a time and a place…” Harley threw up his hands in a big show of disgust. “Calm down. Just calm the fuck down. Ima let you at it! Ima let you tear that shit up! Ima do it!” He addressed the crowd. “We’ve just added a little romantic interlude to the show, folks! You are in for a treat!”
Oliver looked to the people sitting to his right. “I’m not a pervert…I don’t want…”
“Goddamn it, Oliver! Get to it! We gotta get this show on the road! Don’t pussy out like you did with my old lady!”
The other Gray Rise members laughed.
Oliver gritted his teeth. With each passing second, he realized he didn’t fear Harley. He feared how much he hated the man. He raised his weapon and pressed the barrel of his gun to the back of Dani’s head before leaning in and whispering, “Get ready to pull your piece.”
Chapter 101
Nola followed Kenny onto the bus. They made their way to the back with their weapons at the ready, and pulled the lavatory door open.
“Tiny thing,” Kenny said. “Fella round as me wouldn’t have much room to get his business done.”
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