“No, I don’t. I think it’s practical, and I believe it’s completely necessary to keep you safe,” Adam said. “Look, I know a lot of things I do and say, and things I’ve done and said over the years, haven’t exactly sounded normal…in fact, they’ve probably made me sound like a lunatic at times. Your mother’s told me so, and anyone outside our bubble would no doubt agree with her.” He leaned in, locking eyes with her. “But listen…all of those things…every single one of them that doesn’t seem to make sense…things you don’t necessarily get, just like this, I do for no other reason than to keep you and the rest of us safe, unharmed, and alive.” He paused. “Now please just put it on—before I suffer an aneurysm.”
Violet shrugged, her legs appearing weak. “Okay, since you put it that way.” She grudgingly took hold of the vest and examined it. “It’s heavier than it looks. Kind of. And it’s…hard. And the fabric feels bizarre.”
Adam began arranging his gear along his belt, making certain everything would conceal properly. “That bizarre fabric will keep you alive if a stray bullet hits you. Three A can stop everything from a .44 Magnum and down. It provides a damn good amount of protection for the weight of the vest.”
Violet began to help herself into the vest with some assistance from her father. “Whoa. It’s rigid. This thing is going to totally crush my boobs,” she griped.
Adam didn’t respond. He merely shook his head at the comment.
“This feels weird,” Violet said, examining the fabric with her fingertips. “But I do feel…I don’t know…protected.”
Adam had been so immersed in worry and preparing his daughter to accompany him, he hadn’t noticed she’d been holding the Glock the entire time. After silently admonishing himself, he reached into an open duffel bag in the rear of the Jeep and presented a Kydex inside-the-waistband holster to her. “Vi, would you mind putting that in here, please?” He gestured to the pistol. “I want you to keep that gun hidden from view at all times unless you absolutely have to pull it, okay? The last thing we need is for some rookie cop to turn his gun on you and shoot you for brandishing a weapon.”
Violet studied the holster before taking it. “Yeah. Sure.”
“I’m not trying to scare you. My guess is these guys are pretty amped up right now, and a lot of what they’ve learned from training is going to be thrown out the window.”
“All the more reason to be wearing this uncomfortable vest thing. Do they even make these for women? You know, regarding their stark anatomical differences?”
“I don’t know. But I promise you, I’ll find out. Tomorrow.” Adam handed her two spare magazines for the Glock, fully loaded with hollow-point ammunition. “Stick these in your pockets. Three full magazines should be more than enough for what we might have to do tonight.”
Violet nodded and did as she was told, a rare, serious look befalling her. She hesitated a moment, then looked over at him as several gunshots rattled off in the distance. “Dad?”
“Yeah, Vi,” Adam said, observing the trees.
She blinked a few times. “I love you.”
Adam paused to smile at her. “I love you too, kiddo.” He rubbed the top of his daughter’s purple-hued head of hair. “Let’s go find your brother.”
Ten
Jiffy Lube Live Pavilion. Bristow, Virginia
Friday, March 28, 1:05 a.m. EDT
Nihayat al’ayam plus 1 hour, 5 minutes
Adam knew without a single doubt in his mind, he had no business being where he was. The thought occurred to him every time he overheard the occasional pop of a rifle being fired not far from his location. The sound was disturbing, and each time it echoed past, it only reminded him of how foolish he’d been, allowing himself to be coerced into bringing Violet along.
While he surveyed the wooded area around them with his Surefire flashlight, Adam realized the beam could be making him a target while he used it to shy away the darkness. A parking lot of cars lay just ahead of them, and the metal halide lighting atop would soon negate the use of his torch, but he and Violet needed to actually get there before it would be of any use to him.
While keeping the flashlight angled downward and using his fingers to obscure the beam, he continued on and was now able to see where groups of young people had amassed around parked vehicles, some of them with their engines running. Numerous law enforcement cruisers, their red and blue lights flashing and strobing, casted eerie shadows onto other cars and the people standing nearby. Ambulances with emergency personnel had also arrived at the scene, each having their rear doors ajar, though Adam couldn’t discern if anyone was inside—emergency medical personnel, patients, or otherwise.
Several SWAT vehicles were parked near the pavilion’s entrance, and countless armed law enforcement officers wearing body armor and riot gear were scattered about in numerous locations around the lot. It was at that point Adam realized he had his gun drawn.
Adam had taken multiple firearms-training classes, including tactical civilian- and military-infantry-based courses, but he was far from being an expert and miles away from being a professional in a situation such as this. Walking into a parking lot with a gun in his hand would certainly get him killed on a night like tonight. He made the decision to holster it, and in doing so, his actions caught Violet’s watchful eye.
“That’s using your head, Dad,” said Violet. “The last thing we need is for some rookie cop to turn his gun on you and shoot you for brandishing a weapon.”
Adam rolled his eyes, realizing she had just repeated what he’d said to her earlier back to him verbatim. He arranged his jacket to properly conceal his pistol’s lower grip, which protruded just above his waistline near the small of his back. “Sounds like good advice…can’t remember where I’ve heard it before, though.”
“They might even mistake you for a domestic terrorist,” Violet continued. “You do fit the description. Male, politically conservative, middle-aged, Caucasian, and heterosexual.”
Reaching the edge of the wooded area beside the parking lot, Adam found a tree broad enough to use for cover and dropped to a knee, then motioned for his daughter to move in behind him and do the same.
Violet knelt behind her father and craned her neck to get a better view of the lot. “I just realized something.”
“What’s that?” Adam asked.
“I haven’t heard any guns go off in a while. Do you think that means it’s over?”
“I don’t know, but that doesn’t change anything for us. You keep an eye out for your brother, and both eyes open for threats, Vi…at all times. Let’s walk in here…slowly…and do our best to blend in.”
“With all due respect, Dad. Of the two of us, I won’t have any problem with that,” Violet said with a giggle, brushing some pine needles from her knees.
“Yeah, I know. I’m not exactly trendy.”
The duo continued into the lot and navigated themselves through crowds of people, all of whom were either enraged, terrified, or distraught, many to the point of crying. Many had orange mylar emergency blankets wrapped around their shoulders, having been provided to them by emergency services.
The farther in they walked and the closer they got to the entrance, it seemed as though the threat had indeed been contained. No guns were being fired, no screams had been heard, and a feeling of order seemed to overtake the crowds. This put Adam’s heart at ease, but only slightly, having not yet located his son.
“Hey, Vi, did you happen to bring my phone along with you?”
Violet’s face contorted. “No, why would I do that? I have my own phone.”
“When was the last time you texted Chris?”
“I haven’t…not since I did with your phone before we left the Jeep. You’ve always told me it’s dangerous to text while walking. Remember that time I almost fell into that manhole?”
Adam nodded. “Yeah, I remember. Text Chris and find out where the hell he’s at. There’s so many people here. We could spend all night looking for them and n
ever find them.”
Violet pulled out her phone and began tapping the screen rapidly. “You say that, but these people aren’t Chris’s…brand. We’ll find him…he sticks out like a sore thumb—especially with that laughable fuckboy hair of his.”
Adam whipped his head around, squinting his eyes at her. “Did you just say ‘fuckboy’?”
Violet only nodded, her concentration transfixed on her phone. “I still can’t believe he let that slorch talk him into it.”
“Slorch?” Adam raised a brow.
“Yeah, slut, whore, and bitch all rolled into one,” Violet said, her scorn for Jessi evident.
“Jesus. You teens and your urban vocabulary. I need to locate a dictionary for it.”
“Google helps,” Violet said and, a moment later, held her phone up. “Chris just texted back. He said to look for a red Mustang parked beside a big black truck. He said there’s an ambulance parked near them.” She pivoted on her heels. “They’re in parking lot B, wherever that is.”
After taking a moment to acquaint themselves with the layout of the parking lot, they headed off in the direction of lot B, and after several minutes of searching, Violet pointed when she spotted the landmarks her brother had provided as clues of his whereabouts.
When Adam caught sight of Chris, he sprinted to him, overcome with emotion. Though it had sometimes been awkward showing affection for his son, especially in public, Adam embraced him, much to Chris’s chagrin.
Chris flailed and recoiled, pulling away from his father while looking around for his peers’ prying eyes. “Dad, really? Come on!”
Adam drew back and placed both hands on Chris’s shoulders, then looked him over top to bottom. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, Dad. And no, I’m not hurt.” Chris turned his head away to check on Jessi, who was seated in the back of the ambulance with an EMT, who was washing the blood away from her hair and skin.
Adam’s stare fell to a mass of towelettes and cotton cloths lying in a pile at Jessi’s feet, all of which were stained red. “What happened to Jessi?”
“Nothing…she’s fine, Dad,” Chris said. “She’s just getting cleaned up.”
While Violet lagged behind, taking in the sights and sounds of the scene, Adam walked closer to the ambulance to get a better look at the soiled pile of fabric. “Is that blood?”
Chris didn’t answer him, and Jessi didn’t even notice he was standing there.
Adam waited impatiently for an answer. Despite what he was being told, he could tell something else was going on. “Chris, answer me, please. What happened here? And don’t tell me nothing. Is that blood or not?”
Chris sighed and nodded. “Yes. It’s blood.”
“Okay, so if she’s not hurt, why does she have blood on her?”
Chris hesitated. “Because someone else got hurt tonight.” A pause. “He…died, actually.”
Adam stammered a bit. “Someone you knew?”
“Yeah.”
“Who?”
A long pause. “Robbie.”
“Who’s Robbie?”
Barbie jumped down from the cab of Robbie’s truck with a bag full of items, mostly consisting of his personal effects. She brushed by Adam and Chris on her way into the ambulance to seat herself beside Jessi. “Robbie…was my boyfriend,” she said, her tone raspy and coated with sorrow.
Adam watched Barbie enter the ambulance, realizing he’d never seen or met her before until this moment. “I-I’m sorry,” he said, feeling slightly ashamed of the tone he’d been using and not knowing what else to say to her. After a moment, his attention returned to his son. “I’m sorry, Chris. I’m sorry this happened tonight, and I’m sorry you had to be here to experience it. I’m glad you’re okay, and I’m glad the rest of your friends are okay. I know it couldn’t have been easy for any of you to deal with.”
“Yeah.” Chris’s response was as impassive as his expression. “Especially Barbie.” He reached out for Jessi’s tentative hand.
“You do realize, if you hadn’t defied us and come here tonight, you wouldn’t have been witness to any of this,” Adam said. “You could’ve become a victim tonight. Just as easily as anyone else.”
Chris nodded. “Yes, Dad. I know that, and I know you’re right. I screwed up…again. I made a bad decision and I know you’re going to ground me for it, probably forever.” He paused. “But what happened tonight happened because of chance, not decision.”
Adam cocked his head. “Now, what exactly does that mean?”
“Jessi was going to go anyway,” Chris explained. “She and Barbie and Robbie would have been here even if I hadn’t come with them. This whole thing still could’ve happened…it still could’ve happened to them.”
Barbie stuck her head out of the ambulance while wiping the smeared makeup away from her eyes with a wet towel. “Mr. Young, don’t be hard on him. Chris was a hero tonight,” she said, sniffling and rubbing her swollen eyes. “We were all scared to death, and I was a blubbering mess…Jessi and I—we didn’t know what to do. But Chris did. He told us where to go and what to do, and I’m…I mean, we’re glad he was here with us.”
Jessi sent a brief cold stare her cousin’s way.
Adam nodded and smiled grimly at Barbie, then turned back to Chris. “So. My son’s a hero, huh?”
“I’m no hero,” Chris said. “But after what happened, I wasn’t going to stand there and let them get hurt.”
“I’d like to think I taught you better than that.”
Chris nodded, pointing to the remnants of blood, which had dried on Jessi’s pants. “That’s Robbie’s blood,” he said, making sure both Jessi and Barbie couldn’t hear him. “We were all within twenty feet of each other when he got shot, but those two…they were right beside him.”
“Did you see it happen?” Adam asked timidly.
“No,” Chris said, gesturing to Barbie. “But I’m pretty sure she did.”
Eleven
Winchester, Virginia
Friday, March 28
Nihayat al’ayam plus 2 hours, 35 minutes
Piloting his Jeep Cherokee westward down the interstate, Adam tried desperately to regain his composure after experiencing several near heart attacks over what had transpired this evening.
His son, Chris, was safe, seated now in the back seat between two teenage girls: his girlfriend, Jessi, to his right and Jessi’s cousin Barbie to his left. Adam hadn’t met Barbie until this morning and had learned she’d lost her boyfriend when a bullet struck him in the head not long after the shooting had started.
Barbie had been going back and forth through bouts of crying since the time Adam and Violet had made contact with them. She was sniffling and whimpering now, her audibly expressed sorrow being the only sounds filling the interior of Adam’s Jeep.
Adam glanced down at the digital clock display on the dashboard. It was nearing three in the morning, far beyond his normal bedtime. A software developer by trade, he spent half his time in the office, the other half working from home. He considered what options he had for going into work in a few hours, knowing he’d probably have to make the call soon and announce his intention to take a personal day. It would put him behind on some key projects, but his lack of sleep was going to drastically affect his productivity.
Adam pressed the power button on the Icom ID-5100A, a mobile amateur radio he’d installed in the Jeep not long after driving it off the lot. The large blue-tinted touchscreen illuminated brightly, and Adam adjusted the volume so it would be loud enough to hear, yet not too loud to startle anyone.
He palmed the microphone and keyed it, then made a call using his wife’s amateur radio call sign, followed by his own. When he unkeyed, the amateur radio repeater’s familiar courtesy tone signaled, indicating successful contact with the mountaintop station’s receiver. Hearing nothing, he waited about fifteen seconds before repeating the call.
A very tired, wispy, familiar female voice came back to him. “Adam, I’ve bee
n sitting here worried sick for hours. Please tell me everything is okay. Do you have Chris?”
Adam waited for the repeater’s courtesy tone and the subsequent sound of the carrier dropping before keying up. “That’s affirmative. Chris is with me, along with two of his friends. They’ve had a really rough night, but everybody is okay.”
Elisabeth came back to him, this time with distinct perturbation in her voice. “Am I to assume our oldest daughter is with you, too? Seeing as how she’s gone completely AWOL?”
Adam glanced over at Violet, locking eyes with her for a second. “Also affirmative. She’s been with me the entire time, and she’s also safe.”
Elisabeth keyed up over the repeater’s courtesy tone. “Well, I’ve been worried sick about her. I looked all over the house literally a dozen times. I even tried calling your cell phone, but you wouldn’t answer.”
Violet giggled. “That’s because the phone lines were probably overloaded, Mom. Just like Dad more than likely told you.”
Adam shook his head at the remark and keyed the mic. “The system probably got overloaded with people calling to check on their family members after hearing about the shooting. Just like I told you, Liz.”
The courtesy tone sounded, and the carrier dropped, but Elisabeth didn’t reply. Hearing nothing, Adam keyed the mic again. “Listen, I need to run Chris’s friends to the other side of town before coming home. It shouldn’t take much longer than usual. I’ll see you when we get there.” Adam signed off using his call sign and then hung up the mic. He waited for Elisabeth to do the same, though she didn’t.
Until Nothing Remains: A Hybrid Post-Apocalyptic Espionage Adventure (A Gun Play Novel: Volume 1) Page 12