by Jack Hunt
Chase came up behind Mason and peered out while rubbing his eyes and yawning. “You want to tell me what was so important that…” he trailed off with a slack jaw. “Holy shit.”
“You know how to fire a gun, Chase?” Sam asked, taking out his Glock and handing it to him.
“No.”
Sam turned to Anna. “I hate to throw you in at the deep end but…”
Before he finished she took the gun from his hand and checked that there was a round in the chamber then got into position. Two days ago she had all but turned her back on him and now here she was ready to fight if need be.
Sam turned just in time to see the guy take a swing, and fire a golf ball straight through the pane of glass nearest to them. Glass exploded, and fissures appeared around a perfect hole in the glass.
“Fore!” a voice bellowed followed by laughter. “Rise and shine!”
The guy twirled the golf club around like it was a nunchuk.
“My name is Jeremy Maddox, I’m going to make this real simple for you. Last night, two of our people were killed in cold blood. I want the one responsible for my brother’s death. Send them on out and the rest of you can go on your way.”
There was silence. Mason looked at Sam, he had a deadpan expression on his face and was holding an M4.
“Sam?” Mason said.
Sam was muttering something.
“Come on now,” Jeremy said. “We know you were the ones responsible.”
“How did they find us?”
“Maybe someone saw us pull into here,” Chase said.
“No, it was that guy who escaped. I bet you a dime to a dollar he followed,” Mason said.
“With a wounded leg?” Chase said. “Doubt it.”
“It’s a hamlet. There’s not many buildings around here,” Anna said.
“Why didn’t you kill him?” Mason asked Sam.
Sam cast him a glance before looking back out. “Sorry, I was slightly distracted trying to save your ass,” he replied.
“You shot him in the leg. Don’t tell me that you missed.”
“Mason, I don’t need to justify my actions to you. The reason you’re alive is because of me.”
“And the reason you’re alive is because of me,” Mason said.
“How do you figure that?” Sam asked.
“Without my help you’d still be in the subway.”
Sam snorted. “Well I guess we’re even.”
“Seriously, would you two quit it,” Lisa said. “What do we do?”
“Mason, go out back. The truck is nestled in the tree line, covered by branches. Bring it to the rear doors.”
“Let me guess, I can’t miss it?” he said.
“Just do it.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“Introduce myself.”
Mason shook his head. “No, if you stay, I stay.”
“Suit yourself.” Sam got closer to the window and yelled out, “Your brother wouldn’t be dead if he hadn’t attacked us.”
“That’s a lie!” a familiar voice cried out from one of the vehicles. Sam squinted. Sitting in a passenger seat was Gabe. “You shot at us first.”
“You’re not exactly innocent yourself. Cop killer!” Sam yelled.
The one with the golf club scowled and walked back to his vehicle where Gabe was and muttered something before slapping him around the back of the head. He walked back and yelled, “Look, man, all I want is the one responsible.”
“Yeah, well that’s not going to happen,” Sam yelled back.
“You sure about that?” Jeremy said.
“Positive,” Sam replied.
“All right.” He muttered something to the rest of the men and they returned to their vehicles and reversed out.
Mason frowned. It didn’t make sense. Here was a group of heavily armed men who looked as if they were ready for war, and then the first time they encounter resistance, they walk away?
“Well how about that?” Chase said. “I always knew diplomacy worked.”
Sam walked past him. “It didn’t.”
“But they just drove away.”
“No they didn’t.”
Sam hurried towards the rear of the building with Mason following after him. “Sam. Sam!”
“Not right now, Mason.”
They went down a long corridor to an emergency exit and burst out the back door. As soon as Mason was out, he saw it. Flames had engulfed the truck, and several of the trees around it.
“Shit!” Sam said.
“Shit, exactly. Do you know how much that damn thing cost?” Mason asked, his tone full of anger.
Sam placed a hand up to his head, his thoughts turning over.
Mason continued, “I thought you said you concealed it.”
“With a few branches, not with the cloak of invisibility.” Sam sighed.
Chase appeared in the doorway, and started to laugh. “Please tell me that’s not our ride.”
Mason turned and stormed back into the building slamming the door behind him.
Jeremy yanked the wheel to the right and killed the engine. He slipped out of his window and sat on the hood with a pair of binoculars in hand. Gabe got out the other side hobbling ever so slightly. His leg was bandaged up but he was still whining like a pussy. “I don’t get it. We had them right there.”
“Wayne and Nick have the road to the north, Sean and Toby have the east and we have 162 to the west. We all have a clear shot of the place. Unless they want to take a hike through the state forest they’re not going anywhere.”
“But we had them.”
Jeremy lit a cigarette and glanced at him.
“Some days, Gabe, I wonder how you ever graduated high school.”
Gabe scowled at him and banged the top of the car. “Careful.”
“Careful?” Jeremy said. “Really? What are you going to do?”
“I’m just saying, we had them right where we wanted them.”
“We still do.” He tapped his temple. “Use your head, you idiot. They have the advantage. They are tucked away in that building. No, we wait until they come out, and when they do I’m going to pick them off one by one.”
Jeremy returned to looking through the binoculars. He could see black smoke rising behind the building. A twinge of satisfaction washed over him mixed with anger. He wanted so badly to get his hands on whoever had killed his brother but he needed to play this smart.
“Then how will you know which one killed him?”
“Oh I’m not going to kill them, just injure, then when I find the one responsible I will…” he trailed off thinking of a fitting punishment. He’d seen inmates do all manner of things to each other. Shanking a person was the quickest, easiest and usually the best way to kill someone without drawing attention but it didn’t offer the satisfaction that came from drawing out the pain, and he had every intention of making Archer’s murderer suffer.
The radio beside him rattled. “We’re in position,” Wayne said.
“Sean?” Jeremy asked.
A minute or two passed then he came on the line. “Yep, I got eyes on the east side.”
Back inside the building Sam paced. He knew they weren’t far away. The question was how to get out of there. They were surrounded by open fields, the second they stepped outside and tried to make a run for it they would be exposed. It didn’t help that Lisa was acting like a royal bitch.
“Come on, surely you know what to do here?” she yelled.
Sam put up a finger. “Just give me a minute to think.”
“Isn’t this what they train you for?”
“Lisa, give him a break,” Mason said coming to his defense.
She huffed and folded her arms. “We are all going to die and it’s all your fault. That guy you let go was right, if you didn’t shoot that girl we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Sam turned and scowled at her. “That girl was about to stab your husband in the face.”
“Ex,” she said.
> Mason just tossed his hands up in the air and took a position by the window.
“There has to be a nearby house,” Anna said. “Maybe if we just go through the forest?”
Sam had been through a number of situations in Iraq and Afghanistan. He thought back to what his warrant officer had told him when he was in training. All the instructors made a point of yelling and sometimes what came out wasn’t worth a hill of beans but sometimes they made some good points and one was on decision-making. “The worst decision is not making a decision. Now decide what you are going to do!” There were countless times their team had been confronted with a decision to stay, flee or fight, and times when they had only minutes to decide. It all came down to coming up with options. Whether the plan was realistic or not was neither here nor there. Overthinking could mean death. For all the training they had, it came down to making a choice, a choice that might have only been a gut instinct but a choice nevertheless. SEALs had died making the wrong choice, and others had lived making the right one.
“Well the way I see it, we have three options. One, we go out together through the forest and potentially risk all our lives by being in the open. Two, we wait it out here until they come back and then defend ourselves, or three, we create a distraction while I head out the back and seek out a vehicle from a nearby home. All three are a gamble.”
“There is a fourth,” Anna said speaking up. “I go and you all stay here.”
“That’s not an option.”
“Why, because you’re trained better than us?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Then that’s why you need to stay here to hold down the fort. I’m a fast runner and…”
“It’s not happening, Anna,” Sam said, without even looking at her. “I’ll go.”
“And what if you don’t find a vehicle?” Chase asked. “And those guys come back?”
“Then you’ll have to grow a pair and fight back,” Sam said out of frustration. He wished they hadn’t stopped last night. He’d advised them not to but Lisa, oh Lisa, she had to whine and bitch about not going another mile. It was a mistake bringing her along. He had a good mind to dump her ass and take off without her. There were advantages to being a part of a group but with that came an increased responsibility. That was fine if they had trained together but they weren’t mentally prepared for these kinds of things.
“Easy for you to say,” Chase said.
“Look, I’m not going to sit here and argue. We should eat, then I’ll head out.” He wasn’t going to leave without something in him. Could he have survived out there without food? Sure, he’d gone days without, that included sleep, but it sure as hell made life easier with a full belly and the way he saw it, those guys weren’t coming back until at least nightfall and by then he could find a vehicle.
Chase went over and started up another Sterno and set about making some breakfast while Sam and Mason stood by the window keeping an eye out. Anna headed out back with Lisa to keep an eye on the rear.
Sam handed over the M4 to Mason. “You might want to show Chase how to use your rifle while I’m gone.”
“You’re going out there without a gun?”
He withdrew the large hunting knife. “I’ve got this.”
“Oh well that makes everything better,” he said rolling his eyes.
“Ah it will be fine. Just watch the windows.”
He nodded.
“How do you want to do this?”
“I figure they can see us clearly so we need to muddy the waters.” He eyed the golf carts parked nearby. From what he could tell they were all electric carts, and hopefully still holding a charge.
After eating more of the meat they had from the previous night, Sam gathered up as many of the table sheets as possible and headed for the main window.
Mason and Anna covered him as he climbed out and ran at a crouch, zigzagging over to the carts and dropping down behind them. It was hard to know where they were positioned or if they were even within range but being as no one fired at him he figured they were expecting them to leave. He slipped onto a seat, turned the key to on, made sure the switch was turned to FWD and took the parking brake off. It lurched forward before he slammed the brake back on. Good, he thought as he took a sheet and wrapped it around the golf cart. He did the same with the next three. He then dashed into the tree line, and gathered up several thick branches, and used his hunting knife to trim them back to just the right length. He drove the cart out to face the main driveway then prepared to wedge a stick on the accelerator. He took Mason’s cigarette lighter out of his pocket and lit the sheet in two places then stuck the stick in place, releasing his foot from the brake. The cart took off by itself as he stepped out and did the same with the next one. The final two he sent down the side of the building heading for the rear. Flames licked up behind the carts, eventually catching them on fire and sending up a wall of dark, black smoke across the driveway.
Satisfied it was producing enough smoke, he double-timed it back into the building and prepared to exit out the rear. Anna tried to get him to reconsider but he told her he would be back soon.
With that said, he sprinted toward the tree line, staying low and using the thick, pungent smoke as cover.
FOURTEEN - RECLUSE
Sam sprinted through the dense forest while scanning for trouble. It was an insane idea to go in search of a working vehicle as he had no idea where those guys were situated, and there was a chance they might move in on the country club. With Anna only having a small amount of training, the responsibility to hold back the tide would fall squarely on Mason’s shoulders. Then again, staying where they were or trying to get everyone out of there without some means of transportation would have been equally absurd. Sam pushed the thought of them being attacked from his mind, he had to stay focused.
He kept a firm grip on his knife as he launched himself over a fallen dead tree and pressed on towards a house he could see in the distance. Its white clapboard siding stood out, as did the bright red garage.
Sam burst out of the tree line and made his way over. The garage was locked but there were small dusty windows at the top. He pulled over a wooden pallet that was leaning up against the side and used it to climb up and peer in. No vehicle.
Dammit! He darted over to the house.
There was no vehicle parked out front so he continued running. His pulse sped up and he cursed under his breath.
When he made it to the second property, a two-story house with an SUV in the driveway, he tried the lock and the vehicle door opened but there were no keys in the ignition. He also had a feeling that it wouldn’t start as it looked like a new model, two years old at the most. He crossed over to the garage and yanked on the handle and the steel groaned as the door lifted. Inside was a vehicle with a thick cream-colored cover on it. He tore it off to reveal a silver Jeep Wrangler. It was the old style, mid ’80s? For a second he breathed a sigh of relief, that was until he saw that the rear driver’s side wheel was flat. “Oh c’mon!”
There was a spare tire on the back and he could change it out but first he had to be sure the thing could start. Sam dashed back to the house and tried the side door. It was open. Without giving another thought to the danger of being shot by the homeowner, he entered and starting looking for the keys. Inside it was quiet. Only the ticking of a grandfather clock at the far end of the hallway made a sound. A long blue rug stretched the full length of the corridor, and there were numerous paintings on the walls of various sizes. A key hook was to his right but there were no keys hanging from it. He entered a modest-looking kitchen that smelled to high heaven of rotting meat that hadn’t been scraped from two plates. The sink was full of dishes, none of which had been cleaned. Sam’s gag reflex kicked in but he continued searching the drawers while keeping his eye on the doorway.
As he began to search he heard what sounded like something heavy hit the floor. Sam stopped what he was doing and tightened his grip on the knife and made his way over to the hallwa
y.
He glanced back and forth but didn’t see any movement. He tilted his head ever so slightly listening intently but there was nothing. Just about to return to what he was doing, he heard it again. This time he knew where it was coming from, a room at the end of the hallway. He pressed back against the wall and slid his way down, staying vigilant with every step he took. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, as he got closer.
The door to the room was open.
Using the mirrored surface of the thick hunting knife, he slowly inched it out around the bend of the door to get a look at what he was dealing with. No sooner had he pushed it out far enough to see what was inside the room than a gun exploded and a round hit the knife sending it soaring out of his hand.
“Whoa, steady. I’m not here to cause any trouble.”
No one replied.
Sam dropped down and made his way over to the knife and grabbed it up and bolted to the back door. When he was outside he stopped and turned back and looked down the hallway. Why hadn’t they chased after him? The fact that he didn’t fire back at them must have given them some indication that he wasn’t armed. He waited several minutes before reentering.
“You haven’t had enough?” a deep, raspy voice said before he got within spitting distance of the room.
“Listen, man.”
“No, you killed my wife.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Sam shook his head. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“Bullshit.”
“Look, mister, would I still be here if I just killed your wife? All I need is a ride, that’s all. I just want the keys to the Jeep.”
There was no reply.
Sam ducked into the kitchen, went over to the cupboard and without making a sound took out three plates. He made his way down to the room and stood by the door.
He positioned himself across from it but stayed out of sight. It was clear whoever was on the other side had a gun trained on the door. Sam reared back his arm and launched a plate into the room. The second it hit the wall a gun went off. Immediately he pressed forward and fired another plate around the corner. In that split second he saw a man seated behind a table loading a double barrel shotgun. He launched the final plate at him then lunged forward pushing the gun away before he had time to snap it shut. Sam slammed into him, knocking him to one side. He toppled over and that’s when Sam realized why he hadn’t followed after him. The old guy was in a wheelchair — except now he was lying on the ground groaning, and cursing at him. Sam took the gun on the table and the two boxes of ammo and placed them outside the room. He came back in and helped the man up. Of course he struggled, and fought him every inch of the way.