by Jeff Strand
"Noted," said Dana.
"Who's ready for the shitty news?" asked Vanessa, looking at her phone.
"Got any good news to balance it out?" asked Trevor.
"No."
"Damn."
"Actually, yes, I do. I don't see anything saying that any of the hostages have been killed. That's good."
"What's shitty?"
"There's nothing saying the power is out. Somebody just posted a picture and you can clearly see the lights on in the grocery."
Barry sighed. But he'd already been pretty sure that the lights going out was because of the attackers and not the cops, so he wasn't too disheartened.
"The cops have your number, right?" Dana asked Vanessa. "From when you called 911?"
"I guess, yeah."
"Then they'd get in touch with us if they were trying to come into the freezer. We should have thought of that when he was knocking the first time."
"You're right," said Barry. "There are seven of us; we need to think of these things."
"Hard to think of anything but how cold we are," said Trevor. "I blame our poor judgment on frosty brain."
"Agreed, but still."
Dana tapped her phone screen a few times then held it to her ear. "Yes, hello," she said. "My name is Dana Rindell. I'm one of the people trapped in the walk-in freezer at the Sav-Lotz. I need to be put in touch with somebody in charge who can keep me updated about what's happening here. Thank you."
"Oh, no," said Vanessa.
"What?" Barry asked.
"Oh, Jesus God."
"What? What's wrong?"
"They...they said..."
"Did you hear back from your husband?"
Vanessa shook her head and handed Barry her phone. She'd been on Twitter. Barry was familiar with that website (or app, or whatever the hell it was) but he'd never used it. Still, he knew what a retweet was. The retweet on her screen had a very small but recognizable picture of the guy who'd slashed Barry's arm with the broken bottle.
The message said, "2 those of u in the freezer. Come out by 10 or we kill our hostages."
Barry didn't know what time he'd sent that, but it was 9:57 now.
FOUR
"They say they're going to kill the hostages if we don't come out in three minutes," said Barry, holding up the phone so the others could see.
"Is that real?" asked Dana.
Barry shrugged. "You're asking the wrong guy."
"It has to be a hoax. Why would anyone be tweeting from a hostage situation?"
"They weren't wearing masks or anything," said Minnie. "If they don't care that the world knows who they are, why not tweet?"
"Let's pretend it's real," said Barry. "What are the odds that we would've seen this? They wouldn't really start executing people because of a tweet that, as far as they know, we probably have no idea exists, right?"
"You can send a message pretty damn fast these days," said Minnie. "And we did see it. We can tell reporters later that we didn't, but we did."
"I'm not going to get myself killed for people I don't know," said Barry.
"That's reasonable."
"I mean, that would be insane, right? We can't be expected to leave our safe place and go out there so they can whack us in the head with an axe. I'm not trying to be a coward or anything, but I'm not the only one who feels this way, right?"
"I have a family. I'm not sacrificing myself for those people," said Vanessa. "I'm totally with you on this one. That's a stupid way to die."
"Thank you. I don't want to die stupidly."
"Damn it," said Dana.
"What?"
"I'm still on hold. Why is this taking so long?"
"Here's what I'm going to do for us," said Minnie. "I'm going to go out there, and I'm going to have a gun tucked into the back of my shorts."
"I can't let you do that," said Barry.
"You don't have a choice. I have the gun."
Minnie walked over to the door.
"Minnie, no. They'll shoot you on sight."
"I don't think they will. I'm not saying for certain that I won't get a crossbow bolt in my chest, but if I'm calm and collected, I bet I can take them by surprise. If you hear me say, 'Clear!' then get out of here. Run. If you hear anything else, if you hear a death gurgle, then stay put. I'll leave it to your discretion if you close the door or not."
Barry started to say something else to convince her not to do this, then decided against it. This was absolute madness, but if the hostages were executed, he didn't want to be the one who talked Minnie out of her attempt to save them.
"I'm coming with you," said Syllabus. "I can't stay in here anymore."
"All right. Anybody else?"
Nobody else volunteered. Barry felt like crap, but they were safe in here. If Minnie couldn't take the attackers by surprise—and she probably couldn't, since of course they knew she had Chad's gun—she'd be killed.
"Let's do this," said Minnie, tucking the gun into the back of her shorts. "We're almost out of time."
Minnie pulled out the broom, opened the door just enough to squeeze through, and they walked out of the freezer. Syllabus pulled the door almost all the way closed behind them as they left.
Barry stood beside the door, keeping out of sight, feeling like he was going to have a heart attack. This was a terrible idea. This was such a terrible idea.
"Where are the others?" a man (had Chad said his name was Ethan?) asked outside.
"It's just us," said Minnie.
"The news said ten people were in there."
"We had casualties."
"Where's Chad?"
"He didn't make it. He took six people with him, if it makes you feel any better."
"Let me see your hands. You too, SpongeBob."
A trickle of cold sweat ran down Barry's face.
"I need to see the bodies in there," said Ethan.
"Be my guest," said Minnie. "I'm not going to stop your ghoulish ass from getting your rocks off."
Footsteps.
Fast movement.
Swish.
Thwack.
Minnie cried out in pain.
A violent scuffle.
A loud grunt from Syllabus.
Before he could even consider that he'd rather not have a crossbow bolt puncture his eyeball, Barry opened the freezer door. It was stupid, but he couldn't just let Minnie and Syllabus get slaughtered.
Minnie was on her knees, a crossbow bolt protruding from her upper right leg. Ethan was frantically trying to load another bolt, while Syllabus struggled to stop him.
Ethan smacked Syllabus across the face with the crossbow, knocking him to the floor.
Minnie pulled out the pistol.
Ethan snapped the bolt into place.
Minnie raised the gun, and though Barry would have bet on Minnie in a pistol vs. crossbow duel, suddenly she had a bolt in her arm and the gun fell out of her hand.
Syllabus tackled Ethan, and the two men stumbled toward the freezer.
Barry just stared at them. Do something, you piece of crap, he thought.
Ethan clawed at Syllabus' eyes. He missed, but his fingernails raked across Syllabus' cheek, leaving four long bloody streaks.
Barry jolted into action and ran out of the freezer, just as Syllabus somehow got the upper hand and shoved Ethan away from him. The psycho bashed into Barry. Then he let out a delighted sounding whoop as he punched Barry in the face.
Yes, Barry had been punched in the face before. Once in high school, by a bully who broke his nose, and once a few years ago by the husband of a woman who he'd sort of believed when she said she wasn't married. But this was his first time being punched by a raging lunatic, and his cold, numb flesh did nothing to ease the burst of pain.
His feet flew out from under him, and Barry struck the floor, landing halfway back in the freezer.
In his blurred peripheral vision, he saw Minnie pick up the pistol again.
Ethan saw this too, and apparently realized that he
wasn't going to be able to knock it out of her hand in time, or run out of the room, or find a better place to hide, because he stepped over Barry and rushed into the freezer.
He pulled the door closed, slamming it against Barry's torso. Nothing cracked, but he'd definitely bruised some ribs.
Ethan slammed the door against him again. If that happened a third time, he would shatter some ribs, so Barry had to decide if he was going to try to slide out of the freezer or all the way back into it.
There were still two other psychos in the grocery. And if he tried to get out, the next slam of the door could be against his skull. Better to be inside.
Barry slid back into the freezer as Ethan pushed the door all the way closed.
In the faint glow of Dana's cell phone light, Barry saw Ethan pull a large hunting knife out of his tool belt. The lucky son of a bitch was also wearing a bulky jacket, as if he'd somehow planned to spend some quality time in the freezer.
Barry scooted the hell away from him. The others had backed away from the door as well.
Ethan let out another whoop and sliced the knife back and forth through the air as he pressed himself against the door. The way he was swinging it, he'd be lucky not to accidentally smack it into the shelf. "Yeah, you fuckers better cower! I'm gonna cut you all into sushi!"
Sushi specifically required rice, which made that a pretty silly comment, but still, there was a madman in the freezer waving a knife, so Barry wasn't inclined to chuckle.
"Scared? Yeah, I'll bet you are! I'll bet you are! Who wants to be the first one to get some of this knife? You know you want it! Don't be shy! Come and get it!"
Barry was surprised that the door hadn't flown open yet. What were Minnie and Syllabus waiting for? Sure, Minnie was injured, but there were still two of them. Ethan couldn't hold the door shut very long, and he certainly couldn't do it while swinging that knife around.
"All of you are dead! Didn't think you were gonna die today, did you? I bet not one of you woke up this morning thinking it was your last day!" He cackled. "You can all start begging any time now. I'm listening." He pointed the knife at Dana. "Hey, you! You talking to someone?"
"I'm on hold."
"Hang up or I'll kill you first."
Dana held the phone up so he could see the screen, then disconnected the call.
Nothing was happening on the other side of the door. Minnie and Syllabus weren't even trying to get in.
Of course, Minnie had a gun. There were five hostages who needed rescuing more than the unlucky bastards in the freezer. In theory, Barry and the rest should have this covered. The time Minnie spent trying to get the door open to shoot Ethan in the head was time that could be better spent trying to take the other attackers by surprise.
Barry completely understood the logic, though it still felt like they'd been abandoned.
Even if you discounted the six-year-old kid and the seventy-year-old man, they had three able-bodied people in the freezer who could subdue Ethan. Yeah, it was a pretty goddamn big knife, but it was no Samurai sword. Unless they lined up, tilted their heads back, and offered him their throats, Ethan was going to lose this battle.
"You can't kill all of us," said Barry.
"Oh, I don't know about that," said Ethan. "I think I could do it. Want to see me try? That what you want? The best part of a knife is that it doesn't run out of bullets, so I can stab all day long. Stab all day, stab all night...I can kill, kill, kill until the blade breaks off."
Ethan swung the knife again, making a "Z" in the air.
"Was that supposed to be Zorro?" Barry asked.
"It was what's going to happen to your chest. Gonna cut you deep. It's cold in here, so your guts will steam when they fall out of your stomach."
Barry picked a tray off the nearest shelf. It was painfully cold against his fingers, but he tried not to let Ethan see him wince. He shook the frozen meat onto the floor, then handed the tray to Dana and picked up another one.
"Whatcha doing?" asked Ethan, his crooked smile faltering a bit.
"None of your fucking business," Barry told him. It was meant to sound brave, but Barry wasn't feeling brave, so he stammered when he said it.
"You think those shields are gonna stop me?" asked Ethan.
"They might." Barry handed a tray to Vanessa.
"Your friends are dead by now. You know that, right?"
"We know no such thing."
"Oh, they're dead. Or dying. It might happen slow."
"They aren't our friends. We were trapped in a freezer together. We haven't formed any lifelong bonds." Barry handed a tray to Trevor.
Ethan's window of opportunity to go on a knife-slashing rampage was growing narrower and narrower. If he hadn't run at them right away, when they were much more defenseless, the odds were pretty good that he wouldn't do it now.
"What's your big, bad plan?" asked Ethan. "All five of you rush me at once?"
"That sounds feasible."
"That plan ends with somebody getting stabbed. Maybe the kid. You want that on your conscience?"
"We'd let the kid opt out. And it would be on your conscience, not that it looks like you have one."
"Well, before you knights in armor make your charge to slay the dragon, mind if I show you something?"
"Go right ahead," said Barry.
"This is what we in the biz call Plan B."
He unzipped his jacket and pulled it open.
"Make sure you shine that light right at me," Ethan told Dana. "Yeah, yeah, just like that. Everybody getting a good look? Everybody see what's happening here?"
"We see it," said Barry.
"You sure? Need me to summarize?"
Barry shook his head. "We're okay."
"I want to make sure the little kid understands. Hey, kid, these are called 'explosives.' They blow up. I can make this happen whenever I want with this handy little detonator. What this means is that if you come after me with those dipshit metal trays, I can kill everybody." Ethan pointed with the knife. "I can kill you, and you, and you, and you, and, yes, you. Maybe somebody else will get killed when the door flies off this freezer and hits them. You never know, right?"
"Wasn't the whole concept of this attack to not use guns or explosives?" Barry asked. "If Chad was giving us the right information, this literally was planned to send the message that you can kill people without guns and bombs. Why the hell did Chad have a gun and why the hell do you have explosives strapped to your chest?"
"Suicide."
"That's what Chad said, but I don't buy it."
"It's hard to kill yourself with a knife," said Ethan. "Sure, you can jam it into your throat, but if you lose your nerve, you might not sink it in deep enough, and then you die a slow, horrible death. That's not an issue with a gun. Put it in your mouth and pull the trigger, you're gone."
"It still makes you send out a confused message."
"No. The libtards aren't coming for our guns because people are blowing their own heads off. That part is irrelevant. People will be happy that we shot ourselves. They'll think those particular guns were put to good use."
"You could have used a cyanide capsule or something."
"There's no drama in a cyanide capsule."
"You could choke dramatically."
"You making fun of me?"
"No," said Barry. He was surprised by the way he was talking to Ethan. Apparently he was frightened beyond the ability to censor himself. "No, I'm not. But how many people have you, personally, killed today?"
Ethan frowned. "I don't see where that is any of your business."
"The number is zero, right?"
"Are you trying to piss me off? Seriously?"
"No, this isn't ridicule, I promise. I'm just trying to establish that, thus far, your plan to massacre a whole punch of people in this grocery hasn't had the level of success you might have hoped for. Which means that blowing up six people in a freezer will get a lot more attention than everything else you've done today. That's what pe
ople will be talking about, not your message to society."
"That's why it's Plan B and not Plan A."
"Why have it at all? Why bring guns and explosives if you're trying to make a point out of not using guns and explosives?"
"If I wasn't wearing this vest of explosives, you'd all be coming after me with your stupid trays right now. I needed a backup plan."
"It just feels like a lack of commitment to the cause."
"You have no idea about my level of commitment. But you're about to find out. Come here."
"No."
"I said, come here."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to skin you alive."
"That's not a good reason."
"Come here or everybody in here dies. I know you don't want me to detonate this shit."
This was now the second time today that Barry had been threatened with, basically, "Let me kill you with this weapon or I'll kill you with this other weapon." Obviously, he was not going to stroll over there and let Ethan start slicing off strips off flesh.
"Go over there, man," said Trevor.
"What? No."
"You're the one getting all lippy with him. Don't make the rest of us pay the price."
Somebody shoved Barry forward. He was so taken aback by this that he stumbled forward and almost slipped. When he glanced back over his shoulder, he saw Pete lower his arms. That little shit.
Ethan swung at him with the knife.
It slashed diagonally across Barry's chest, left nipple to waist, but Ethan wasn't quite close enough to cut deep, and it mostly just cut open his shirt. It stung, but there was no spurting blood or falling organs, at least not that he could see.
Barry swung the tray at him. Ethan swung the knife at the same time, and metal struck metal. Ethan jabbed, lower, and Barry just barely deflected it with his makeshift shield. He wished there was a lot more light in here.