Condemn (BUNKER 12 Book 2)

by Tanpepper, Saul

  Finn counted the seconds, but all he heard was the wind. A minute later, the rider reappeared and zoomed back down the road. "All clear!" he shouted.

  "Dammit, Bix! What happened?"

  A new horse rider appeared at the front. It was Luke. He gave a shrill whistle and waved them up the road. The horses clopped and pulled away. The truck revved its engine. The gears shifted. Then came the bang of a single gunshot.

  Just one.

  "What the hell?" Finn said, almost forgetting not to shout. "Who the hell is shooting?"

  The sound of it rolled across the land, causing Luke to hold up a hand.

  He turned and rode around to the back, yelling. The other two horse riders appeared. They separated from each other, moving to opposite sides of the road, and raced up the ridge with pistols in their hands.

  Finn waited. Then came the muffled explosion of the claymore.

  The truck driver shouted out his window. Luke went over to the motorcycle rider. "You said it was clear!"

  "It was!"

  Luke pulled a gun from his hip and aimed it at the man. "Did you check—"

  A second explosion came, closer and louder this time. The horse reared back and nearly threw Luke off. But he had pulled the trigger. The motorcycle rider toppled off and lay still on the road. A woman's scream rose from inside the truck's canvas covering.

  "Turn around!" Luke screamed at the truck driver. "Go back!"

  Finn watched, then remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He lowered his cheek to the stock of the rifle and sighted. Breathe, hold, sight, squeeze.

  Luke was perfectly outlined against the truck's canvas, but Finn couldn't shoot him. If he missed, or if the bullet passed through Luke's body, it might hit someone inside. He shifted the site to his left.

  The driver's head came into view in the scope. He centered the crosshairs. The man was trying desperately to shift into reverse. He leaned forward just as Finn squeezed.

  The rifle jumped against his shoulder, knocking the breath from his chest. Luke's horse jumped and he spun around, searching for the origin of the shot. He disappeared around the other side.

  Finn focused on the inside of the cab. The driver was still alive, still trying to shift into reverse. After giving up, he decided to simply turn the truck around. Finn sighted again, but the driver disappeared in a flash of sunlight reflecting off the glass.

  Shoot, Finn. Do it! Just shoot!

  But he couldn't see. He was shooting blind!

  Squeeze the trigger!

  But if I miss, I'll hit someone in the back!

  SHOOT!

  Finn sighted onto the center of the driver's side of the windshield and prayed he didn't miss. He didn't bother with the breathing and the holding. He squeezed the trigger and felt the rifle jump again, only this time he remembered to pull it tight against his shoulder first. The truck kept turning.

  Finn tried again to see inside the cab, but there was too much glare. The truck completed its rotation, and the cab was out of sight.

  But now Luke was fully exposed. Finn swiveled the rifle toward him. Luke kicked his horse into a run, circling the truck again, shouting at the driver. People inside the truck were screaming. Finn tried not to be distracted by them.

  The truck kept turning. It was coming back around again. Finn sighted the scope around the front as it came into view once more, and he saw the driver slumped over the steering wheel.

  Luke reached the door and tried to get it open. His horse tripped and fell from underneath him. Luke clung to the doorframe as the poor animal was pulled beneath the tires. It screamed in pain and fear. The truck rolled over its flailing legs, snapping the bones.

  Finn put it out of its misery with his third shot.

  The truck came to a stop, stalling as it couldn't roll over the carcass. Luke immediately jumped off the running board and sprinted to the back.

  "Come on," Finn growled. "Where's Adrian?" He was shaking from the adrenaline. He'd just shot and killed a man. But shooting the horse had been worse. "Show me that rat bastard Adrian!"

  In the new quiet, Finn heard the stumbling gait of hooves at the ridgeline, and he swiveled the rifle there. A horse appeared. Its side was wet with blood. The rider was gone. Bix had succeeded. Now there was only Luke.

  And Adrian. Where the hell is he? Is he in the back of the truck?

  Finn lifted his head to look to the horizon. The glint from before was still there, a little more pronounced. He thought he could see a cloud of dust rising up behind it, but they were still too far away.

  "Give it up, Reverend!" Bix shouted from his hiding place. "Four of your men are dead. In just a few minutes, you're going to be surrounded!"

  A figure appeared around the other side of the truck. Finn thought it might be Adrian, but it wasn't. It was Luke again. He held someone tight against his chest. "Go ahead and shoot," he cried up at the hill. "But you better not miss!"

  "No!" Bren shrieked. "Please no!"

  Luke waited. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Come out and let's talk."

  "Oh, I'm good right here," Bix yelled back.

  "Why don't you tell the reverend to come out," Finn called from his hiding spot. "We'll talk with him."

  Luke spun around and tried to locate him in the trees. He didn't seem to realize that Finn was a lot closer. "No, you talk to me. Father Adrian is . . . a little busy right now."

  "Tell Luke to let her go, Reverend!" Finn shouted. "Take me instead. Leave everyone else."

  Luke's eyes turned to the sign. He smiled. "I see you hiding there."

  "Stay cool, Finn!" Bix yelled. "It's all of us or nothing!"

  "Bix!"

  "Stay right where you are, Finn!"

  Luke laughed at their disagreement and pulled Bren tighter against him. She struggled and let out a soft cry. She couldn't do much, as her hands were bound behind her back.

  "If you hurt her," Finn shouted, "so help me God, I'll—"

  "What?" Luke snapped. "God don't help sinners."

  "Look up the road," Bix said. "Our friends are going to be here in less than five minutes. You'll be surrounded. There's no way you'll get out of this alive once they arrive."

  "Then we all die. Y'all got till the count of five to come out, unarmed. Or else I put a bullet in this pretty little lady's brain."

  "Wait—"

  "One two, buckle my shoe!" Luke shouted in rapid succession. "THREE FOUR CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR! I swear, I will shoot her!"

  "No! Okay! Stop!" Finn stood up and stepped to the side of the highway sign. He held his hands up to show that he didn't have a gun. "I'm unarmed. Don't hurt her!"

  "Finn!" Bren yelled. "No!"

  "Tell the other one to come out, too!"

  "I'm here," Bix said, appearing at the top of the hill. He was fully exposed in the sunlight, silhouetted against the sky. But from that distance, Luke had little chance of hitting him, especially with Bren struggling beneath him. Finn was the easier target. "Stay cool, Finn."

  "Hands up where I can see them!"

  Bix raised his hands. "Where's the reverend? We talk to him only!"

  "You talk to me!" Luke shouted back.

  "Why are you doing this?" Finn asked again. "What did we ever do to you?"

  Bix started to descend the hill. Luke raised the pistol and screamed at him to stay right where he was. "Don't come any closer. Y'hear?"

  He began to drag Bren toward the back of the truck, keeping her between him and the boys. The motorcycle rider on the road was beginning to stir. Finn realized that Luke had shot him only with a stun gun.

  Why shoot him at all?

  "Get up!" Luke grunted at him.

  But the man just groaned and didn't move.

  "Useless piece of sh—" He kicked the man again, then whipped the pistol around and shot him.

  A small spray of red appeared in the air. The figure jerked and grabbed his leg. Bren screamed, but it was drowned out by a louder cry of anguish from the back of the truck. A body fell ou
t and onto the road, hitting the hot pavement with a sickening crunch.

  "Why are you doing this?" Finn yelled, as Luke holstered the gun and replaced it with a knife.

  The fallen person struggled upright, still keening. Finn saw that it was Maria Caprio, and with a sickening feeling in his stomach, he knew before Luke cut her bindings that the motorcycle rider in the helmet was her husband, Vincenti.

  It sickened him to realize that Luke had sent one of their own ahead to scout ahead, perhaps suspecting an ambush. Whether luck or intuition, Bix hadn't set off the claymore to kill him.

  But now Vincenti lay on the road writhing in agony and cursing.

  Luke pulled Maria up by her hair, separating her from her husband, and ordered her to start walking toward the approaching pickup truck. "Make sure they stop! I don't want them to get any closer."

  "No! I won't!"

  Another shot rang out, and Vincenti screamed again and clutched at his other leg.

  "Oh no!" Maria shrieked. But Luke pushed her brutally away.

  The pickup truck was clearly visible now in the distance.

  Luke watched her limp up the road before turning and pushing Bren toward Finn.

  "The good Lord don't tolerate unrepentant sinners, boy," he said.

  He came to a stop about thirty feet away. Bren was shaking terribly beneath his arm, which he'd wrapped tight around her throat.

  "And you, my boy, are about as unrepentant as they come. That's what the reverend says."

  "He has a twisted idea of what those things mean," Finn spat.

  He had taken the opportunity of Luke's distraction with the Caprios to grab the rifle. He now had it sighted on Luke's head. But he was shaking and unsure he could even pull the trigger.

  "Why doesn't he come out and tell me that himself?" Finn asked, his voice rising. "Or is he a coward?"

  The muscles in Luke's arm rippled as his grip on Bren's neck tightened, choking her. She tried to struggle, but he jammed the pistol hard into her side. "That's better, honey," he said into her ear when she stopped fighting.

  "Let her go," Finn said. He tried to keep his voice steady. He had to do something soon, or else Bren would die anyway. She was turning blue. And the pickup truck had stopped too far away to be of any help. It was up to him. But what could he do? "Take me instead. It's me you want."

  "Yes, it is." Luke jerked his head to the side. "Drop the gun before you hurt someone. Start walking. To the truck."

  "Leave her here."

  "No, I don't think so." He brought the pistol up to her neck. "Drop it or I'll put a bullet in her."

  "Then you'll die, too."

  The smile on Luke's face twitched. But at least the color was returning to Bren's face. He started to back away. "Let's go."

  Finn followed, keeping the rifle trained on Luke's head. "Tell Adrian to come out!"

  They were getting closer to the back corner of the truck. Finn knew he'd have to act soon. If he didn't—

  Gunfire erupted to Finn's left, somewhere near the top of the hill. He almost turned to look. Luke did, however, jerking the pistol in the direction of the ongoing shots. It was all the distraction Finn needed.

  At the same time, as if sensing that it was her only chance to escape, Bren ducked out from under his arm. Luke spun back, opening his mouth to yell, but Finn had already centered the site of the rifle on his temple.

  The bullet entered the man's head just above the left eye. He stood for a moment with his mouth agape, then he fell.

  But so did Bren.

  The gunfire on the ridge abruptly stopped. Finn barely noticed. He fell to his knees beside Bren, calling her name and pulling at her body, rolling her onto her back to find the bullet wound. There were cuts all over her arms and face, but he couldn't find the one that had sent her down.

  "Fihhhn...?" she whispered.

  Her eyes fluttered open, but her gaze was unfocused. A heartbeat passed before it cleared. Then she was in his arms, sobbing. He clutched her to him, realizing she'd only fainted.

  But then he was pushing her away, getting to his feet.

  Adrian! his mind screamed. He'd somehow gotten ahead of them. That was the gunfire! But who was he shooting at?

  Bren pulled him back. She wouldn't let him go. She scratched at his arms and legs and sobbed.

  "I have to finish this!" he said, and stripped her hands from him. He ran back to the rifle and picked it up. "It's over, Reverend!" he yelled, and aimed at the ridgeline. Bix was gone. Finn angled for the back of the truck. "Or do you want to die, too?"

  He swung around, backpedaling on the tarmac so he could see inside the canvas covering. But Bix was already there, standing on the bumper and leaning in. He turned and yelled at Finn not to shoot. "He's not here."

  Finn froze. "But—"

  "How about pointing that thing somewhere else, Ace?"

  "Whuh— Where is he?" Finn spun around and scanned their surroundings. Next he checked underneath the truck. "Where is he? Where did he go?"

  Bren grabbed his arm. "He's not here, Finn. He never was."

  "What?" He swiveled the rifle to the ridgeline again, expecting to see the man and several others coming over it. "I heard gunshots."

  "That was me, Finn," Bix said.

  "How?"

  "First things first. Let's get the others untied and Mister Caprio's legs bandaged up." He whistled at the retreating figure of Maria in the distance and waved her back. The pickup had reached her by then. They stopped to bring her back.

  Finn turned back to Bren. He couldn't believe it was over so easily. She was still alive. They were all still alive.

  She hugged him tight again, then bent down to attend to Mister Caprio.

  The road beneath him was wet with his blood. The pool spread, looking too big. But Finn knew it could've been worse. He also knew he'd survive. He might not walk again. Or, if he did, it would be with a limp. But he'd live. He had those things inside his body, fixing him.

  Bren tore a strip from his tattered shirt and began to bind one of the wounds.

  Bix appeared out of the back of the truck again, Mister Largent by his side rubbing his wrists. Finn's eyes widened. "Are Sammy and Mia—"

  "Fine," Mister Largent said, his voice a croak. "They're all fine. Scared, but unhurt."

  Together with the men from the pickup, they managed to lift Mister Caprio into the bed of the army truck and out of the sun. They gave him water from one of the packs.

  "They made me scout ahead," he said, his face white with pain. "I'm sorry. They said they would kill Maria if I didn't."

  Finn stood back and watched as everyone greeted each other. There were tears of relief and hugging. Only the elder Abramsons held back.

  Seth glared accusingly at Finn. He refused to lift a finger to help. Kaleagh Abramson stared into the corner, as if deeply ashamed. Finn was too angry at Seth to feel bad for her.

  Bix stood off to the side, explaining to his father and Jonah how he'd used a small fire to set off one of the pistol rounds at the beginning, then a handful after he'd emerged from his hiding place.

  "It was Finn who took out the driver, though. I don't think I could have made that shot myself."

  Finn did not feel heroic at all. He didn't feel relieved. He didn't even feel lucky. Instead, he just felt restless, like there was unfinished business. And he felt like they were all sitting ducks in the middle of the road.

  Kari and Harrison Blakeley returned in the pickup truck from the other side of the hill and declared that it was, indeed, clear. They'd found the bodies of the two dead horsemen and one dead horse. The claymores had done a job on them, but from their description, Finn knew that one of them had been Billy.

  He pulled Bix away. "Why wasn't Adrian here?"

  "He must've chickened out."

  "The man in charge?" Bren said. "He left us before we even left the bunker. They told us he was going to get ready for when you arrived."

  "That doesn't make any sense," Finn said. "All of
this, this charade, it was done to lure me and Bix back to his ranch. He was using you as bait. He wanted to sacrifice us all. Why wouldn't he be here to make sure it worked?"

  "Because he screwed up," Bix said. "He didn't expect us to win. We did. End of story."

  Finn scanned the landscape, looking for any sign of the man.

  "The guy can wait forever, for all I care," Bix said. "We've got better things to do."

  Finn turned to the others, looking for answers. "This doesn't feel finished."

  "It is. You got Bren back."

  "But—"

  "Can't you just be happy it's over?" Seth spat. He jumped out of the back of the truck and approached Finn. "It's over."

  Finn stared at him for a moment before realizing that it really was. He let out a breath, which seemed to deflate him, and he crumpled to the road. Bren came to him and held him.

  The others dragged the bodies off the road, then took stock of their supplies. A small argument broke out between them, as they discussed the merits of returning to the dam versus going to the army base.

  Finn ignored them. He didn't care anymore where they went. Harper was gone, and Bren was safe. He was done making decisions. He just wanted to crawl into a hole.

  "Back off, Seth!" Eddie's shout snapped Finn out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw Missus Abramson cowering beneath her husband's glare. "Let her have her say."

  "She's got nothing to say! Kaleagh, get back on the truck. Sit down and shut up!"

  "No," she screamed, and slapped her husband across the face. "How could you not tell him?"

  "So he can drag us all through hell again? That's what started this, remember?"

  "Tell who what?" Eddie demanded. "Kaleagh?"

  "Keep your mouth shut," Seth growled.

  "Mom?"

  The woman pushed herself away from Seth. "How could you? I'm so ashamed."

  "We are going back to the dam and nowhere else!"

  Harrison and Jonah stepped forward and grabbed an arm each. Together, they pulled Seth away from her. "Let her speak."

  Finn stood up and walked over to her. "What is it?" he asked. "What is he not saying?"

  "We have to keep going," she said, sobbing. "You can't go back."