by Hunt, Jack
“You really should keep your mouth shut.”
“Man, it must suck being someone else’s bitch,” she said to Sawyer.
“Well you’ll know soon enough,” he retorted. “Now shut up!”
“Or what? You’re all gonna be dead before the day’s out, anyway. Just like his cousins.”
Sawyer crouched down beside her and she eyed the blade in the sheath around his calf. It was snapped shut with a button so the chances of being able to go for it and escape were slim to none but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try something.
“Lady, the only one who was protecting you before this was Cole, and he’s gone. So I recommend choosing your words wisely.”
“Oh, I’m just having some fun with you,” she said turning and rubbing her hand up between his legs. He got this smile on his face and nodded slowly. Then just as she was about to wrap her fingers around the blade, his hand clamped down on hers squeezing it tight. She let out a groan, and he pushed her hand away.
“Nice try.”
Right then one of Magnus’ men came hurrying out the back of the house. “Magnus. We got company.”
Chapter 22
“Rayna? Are you there?”
Magnus held tightly to Maggie’s arm and pressed a Glock into her rib cage to remind her of what would happen if she screwed up. Maggie peered through the peephole. She recognized him by his voice, but she wanted to see if he was alone. Everything inside her wanted to scream for him to run but that wouldn’t end well.
“Who is it?” Magnus asked in a hushed tone.
“Mr. Thompson. He’s a neighbor.”
“Get rid of him.” He pressed the muzzle harder against her rib cage. “You say anything, you blink or even make a gesture, I’ll kill you and then him. You understand?”
She nodded. He positioned himself behind the solid oak door as she went through the process of dealing with the multiple locks. She pulled the door open just slightly.
“Oh hey Maggie, I’m just returning that lantern I borrowed. Is Rayna or Elliot in?”
She gave a strained smile. “Actually, they’re out at the moment but I’ll give it to them.” She reached forward and grasped it but he didn’t release it.
His brow furrowed. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Just tired. Hungry. You know how it is.”
“Right.” He nodded slowly. “So Kong not around?”
“No, he went with Rayna.”
“To where?”
“Um. Not sure. I think it might have been the town hall.”
“Alright. Anything you need a hand with?”
Maggie felt Magnus tighten his grip on her.
“That’s very kind of you but no. We are good. I’ll speak to you later, okay? Say hello to your son for me.”
“My… Oh, yeah, huh, I’ll do that.”
She closed the door and Magnus looked through the peephole. “Go on, old man. Leave,” he muttered in a low voice. He stayed there looking through the peephole and then turned back toward Maggie and scowled. Something wasn’t right. Magnus pushed her back into the arms of Sawyer and swung open the door. Mr. Thompson was hurrying away when Magnus raised his handgun and fired twice. A crack sounded and the thin, elderly man hit the ground about a yard from the main road. Magnus turned back toward Maggie and slapped her across the face. “Do you really take me for an idiot?”
Call it his bullshit meter or just a gut feeling, but when he saw him hurrying away, he figured Maggie had tipped him off even if she didn’t say it outright. The question was how? He had an idea.
“What?” Maggie asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Magnus didn’t wait there to explain. He walked outside because the old man was still alive. He was squirming on his belly in pain, his hands and feet slapping the gravel driveway as he tried to crawl away. As soon as Magnus reached him he placed a foot on his back and the old guy groaned.
“You don’t have a son, do you?”
The old man had blood coming out of his mouth. Magnus stooped down and pressed the muzzle against his temple. “Send God my regards!”
The round echoed loudly. As he returned to the house, Magnus gestured with a thumb over his shoulder for his men to drag the guy into the bushes.
Rayna was two houses away when she heard the gun. While she was aware that her neighbors were carrying weapons, she was pretty damn sure that gunfire originated from her home.
“Lily, Evan. Back. Now!”
They crossed into the closest driveway. She pulled the rifle off her back and told Lily to take Kong. Since Elliot had returned he’d told her to remain on alert. If in doubt, pull out, as it was better to be safe than sorry. She directed her kids toward the tree line that hedged in the home and they made their way across four property lines before they got back on the road and started heading the other way. As she passed a few neighbors, she asked them if they’d heard any shooting in the area throughout the day. It was possible that someone was just firing off rounds nearby but her gut told her something else.
While speaking to her neighbor Clive Robins, a dark vehicle approached. As it got closer, it pulled off to the edge of the road and that’s when she spotted Jesse in the back.
“Jesse? Where’s the truck?”
A look of concern spread across his face. “Rayna, have you been home yet?”
“No, I was just heading that way when I heard gunfire.”
Damon got out the other side and put his Ruger 22 on top of the car and patted the trunk. “Open up, Amos.”
“Would you mind the paint and get your gun off the top?”
“Ah put a sock in it.”
The trunk opened, and he pulled out a ballistic vest.
“You want to tell me what’s going on? And who are these people?”
Jesse was about to tell her when the driver got out with a large cigar in his mouth; he looked like a thin version of Boss Hogg from The Dukes of Hazzard minus the white threads. He wandered around the back of the vehicle and started harping at Damon for not listening. Damon’s expression was dead serious.
“Damon?”
Jesse took a hold of Rayna’s arm. “Did you see anyone there?”
“No. I… What is going on?”
“They’ve got Maggie.”
“Who has?”
He sighed. “You remember those guys that attacked you? They were the cousins of a guy in Keene called Magnus. An old friend of Damon’s.”
“He was no friend,” Damon said, correcting him as he came around and slipped into the ballistic vest.
“Rayna, you know these people?” Clive asked looking at them with his hand on his holster.
“Yeah, they’re fine.”
“Anyway, they’re here to avenge Trent. They’re here for Elliot,” Damon said.
“Elliot’s not here,” Rayna said.
“Where is he?”
She shrugged looking at her kids who looked equally perplexed. She turned to Clive. “Clive, do you think you and your wife could keep an eye on my kids for a while until I can figure out what’s going on here?”
“Yeah, that’s not a problem. Come on, guys,” he said beckoning them farther down the road. Clive and his wife, Wendy, lived six homes down. She’d got to know them through her time working at the museum. Clive and Wendy’s, eldest child worked in admin.
“Mom,” Evan said.
“It’s okay, just take Kong and stay put. I’m going to find your father.”
She watched them walk off with Clive, a look of reluctance and fear on their faces. Satisfied they were safe she turned her attention back to the four of them. “How many are there?”
“I don’t know exactly. Three, maybe more?”
“You’re not thinking of going in there, are you?”
“We’ve got to get Maggie out.”
“No, we need to find Elliot and Gary.”
Damon pulled the gun off the car. “There is no time. We need to do this now.”
“He’s right,” Jes
se said. Rayna took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves as she mentally prepared to take more lives. It didn’t get any easier, but this went beyond saving Maggie, it was about taking back what was hers — her home.
There were multiple stab wounds to his stomach, and his throat had been slit. Elliot stared at Ted Murphy’s corpse. Not long after taking back the Olympic Center, they were about to leave for the north end to investigate the arson incidents when Officer Jackson’s radio came alive with a call from Terri Boyd, an office administrator who worked for Mayor Hammond. She was acting all hysterical, barely able to string two words together without bawling her eyes out. All they were able to extract from the blubbering mess was a name — Foster Goodman.
Instead of going north, they sent Jackson and the volunteer while they returned to the town hall in the hopes of finding Goodman; instead they found Ted’s body, and another dead officer.
It was no ordinary death; Ted had died in a frenzied attack.
They figured the officer who was assigned to watch over the department and town hall officials must have got caught off-guard as he had a single bullet to the temple and was slumped down as if Goodman had been in waiting.
According to Terri, she’d been startled by gunfire and emerged from her office just in time to see a bloodied Goodman exit the building leaving behind a wake of devastation. Mayor Hammond was nowhere to be found.
“He’s not at home,” Gary said after getting off the radio. He stepped into Murphy’s office and paused for a second as he looked at the man he’d come to despise. There was no trace of sympathy in his expression. “Hammond’s wife said he had left for the town hall early this morning. Goodman must have him.”
“But why not just kill him here?” Elliot muttered to himself. They stood there for a second chewing it over then it dawned on Elliot. “I think I know where he might be.”
Chapter 23
Magnus grabbed a clump of Maggie’s hair and dragged her down the hallway kicking and screaming. He tossed her into the kitchen and she slid across the floor and collapsed in a heap against a cupboard.
He stooped down and jabbed his finger at her.
“I made it pretty fucking clear what I would do, and I’m a man of my word. He’s dead, now so are you.”
With that said he turned to Sawyer. “Take her into the bunker and teach her some manners, and when you’re done, kill her.”
Maggie couldn’t believe what they were saying. It was like having an out-of-body experience. Magnus turned away. She screamed cowering back in fear as Sawyer approached. “No. No!”
He took a grip of her wrist and tried to drag her but she began fighting back. As she was doing this Tyron was bargaining with Magnus to let him be the one to handle her. While their backs were turned, her fight-or-flight instincts kicked in and she drove her foot into Sawyer’s knee and he buckled letting out an agonized cry. She scrambled across the kitchen floor like a wounded gazelle fleeing from a predator. Her heart hammered in her chest. Every inch she got closer to the back door was one step closer to freedom. That freedom never came. She felt a hard thud at the back of her head and collapsed in a heap. Now all she could see and hear was fragments of her reality, a mishmash of voices and then her body shifting across the ground.
From the cover of the dense forest that hedged in the home, Damon and the others looked on assessing the situation. They’d heard screaming and Jesse wanted to move in but both Damon and Amos had to hold him back. What came next shocked them all. The back door swung open and Sawyer emerged dragging Maggie across the yard toward the bunker. Jesse brought up his rifle but Damon slapped it down. “You want to kill her?”
“Look at her!” Jesse jabbed his finger forward as Sawyer disappeared into the shed.
“We’ll get her but your shooting accuracy isn’t that great and there are too goddamn many of them to go rushing out there.”
“Well you better think fast or I’m going in.”
“No you’re not.”
“You gonna stop me?” Jesse said.
“If I have to.”
Rayna intervened. “Enough!”
They turned their attention back to the house. From what Damon could see, the rest were inside. His mind went into overdrive. Storming the house wasn’t an option, and he knew Magnus well enough to know that he wasn’t going to stand out in the open. He was crazy but not that crazy. As they crouched in the underbrush trying to figure out the best approach, Damon heard movement from the rear. He twisted around bringing his rifle up only to find Clive Robins and two other armed men.
Clive threw his hands up. “Whoa, we thought you could use some help.”
As they spoke with Rayna, Damon spotted something in the yard that gave him an idea. He turned to Clive and the other two. “You want to help? Come with me.”
“What are you doing?” Rayna asked.
“You’ll see. Just be ready to take them out.”
He turned to Jesse. “Take my father and circle around. Go get her!”
Damon turned to Amos. “I need the keys to your car.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Look, old man, I don’t have time for your bullshit right now. Let’s go.”
Amos looked reluctant but with everyone staring at him he buckled under the pressure. “You put one scratch on my baby and heads are gonna roll.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Damon said snatching up the keys before jogging off at a crouch with Clive and two other neighbors. He came to learn their names were Brian and Thomas. When they made it out of the forest into the backyard of the next home, he hurried over to a BBQ and started to detach the propane tank.
“We’re going to need at least three of these. Go check some of the other houses. Be quick.”
They sprinted away while he lugged the propane tank down the driveway and over to the Caddy. He popped the passenger door open, pulled the seat forward so there was hardly any room in the front and jammed the tank between the seat and the dashboard. In the distance he heard gunfire. He hoped to God that Jesse was doing what he told him. Next, he opened the trunk and fished around for the breakdown kit Amos had stuck in the back. Beyond the usual crap that could be found like an air compressor for flat tires, jumper cables, a 12-foot towrope, gloves, warning triangle and first-aid kit, were two road flares. He took them out. A few minutes later, Clive and the others returned with three canisters.
“Good, load two of them into the passenger side.”
They stacked them haphazardly on top of each other and then closed the door. Damon took the last one and reared it back and used it to smash out the passenger window. He them jammed the tank inside with half of it exposed.
“Head back and circle around the west side and provide support.”
They nodded and dashed off toward the home while he hopped into the driver’s side and fired up the engine. Damon tore away from the hard shoulder and then swerved, parking the car with the front end facing the front of Rayna’s driveway. The car idled as he hopped out and dashed over to the edge of the road and rummaged around in the undergrowth for a solid, thick branch. He broke off the limbs and snapped it over his leg until it was the right size and then headed back to the car. He knew he’d only get one shot at this. Damon jammed the branch between the bottom of the seat and the accelerator. The gearstick was still in park. As soon as the branch connected with the accelerator it started revving loudly. The wheels spun, kicking up dirt and smoke. He partially sat in the vehicle so he could engage the brake, align the wheels and then shift the gearstick into drive. Before doing that he took the two road flares, removed the cap from one, then struck the cap’s rough surface on the end of the flare. A golden flame about three inches long burst forth, fizzling and blowing in the breeze. He did the same with the next and then jammed them between the propane tanks with the flame facing up. Damon shifted the gearstick into drive, dived out and rolled as the mint-condition, black, 1949 Cadillac shot forward heading straight for the house. Damon scrambled to get up and d
ashed into the tree line, his eyes swept the scene as he watched the vehicle speed down the driveway and collide at an angle into the brick and clapboard home. He’d expected the whole thing to explode but nothing happened. Windows shattered, metal crunched, and a portion of the front end embedded in the home but that was it. Nothing but the sound of an engine revving, and the flares fizzling.
“What the hell did you do?” Amos yelled running up to meet him. Before he got close enough to verbally or physically assault him, Damon took aim at the partially exposed propane tank and squeezed off a round. It didn’t immediately explode but a huge ten-foot blue flame shot out of the side. The second round tore through it, igniting and causing an eruption of epic proportion.
The fifteen-foot explosion tore through the front of the home. Every window in the front of the house shattered, and golden tongues of fire licked up the upper portion of the house enveloping it in a cloud of smoke and flames.
Minutes earlier, Maggie was shoved into the living area; her body collided with a small coffee table. Sawyer leered at her, the corner of his mouth turning. He walked over and slapped her across the face twice causing her to cry out in pain.
“Oh I’m going to enjoy this.”
He then started unbuckling his pants.
“Let’s get acquainted.”
Blood was trickling down the side of her face as she reached for the nearest object, a vase full of fake flowers, she tossed it at him but he ducked and then let out a laugh.
“Feisty, I like that.”
He extracted his belt and snapped it a few times to intimidate her. Maggie scrambled back trying to escape him but he was on her fast, pushing her to the floor and clamping his legs around her body. He wrapped the belt around her neck in a noose and began to twist. A flash of memories from her ex-boyfriend beating her rushed through her mind — his face and a continual wave of pain. Maggie gasped then fired back driving her fist as hard as she could into Sawyer’s solar plexus. Elliot had taught her a thing or two while down in that bunker, one of which was points on the body that could disable an attacker.