Next World Series (Vol. 2): Families First [The Road]

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Next World Series (Vol. 2): Families First [The Road] Page 11

by Ewing, Lance K.


  “Are you kidding me?” asked Mel in a louder-than-he-intended voice.

  “I was only suggesting…”

  “No. No, I think it’s a great idea. I was just about to say you made me blush, and that’s hard to do. I’ll talk to David and his dad about it,” he added. Tammy had no idea, but this was the happiest day Mel had known in a long time, maybe ever.

  * * * *

  “Dad? Dad, are you there?” came the call on the radio.

  David fumbled around in the dark, looking for his flashlight. “Yeah, I’m here, Mark. What’s going on?”

  “We’re watching Mel’s place, and there have been a few guys wandering around over the past few hours. But now there is a small group around the slab, with shovels and picks.”

  “Son, can they see you?”

  “I don’t think so, Dad. We’re pretty well hidden in the trees.”

  “Okay, Mark. You guys stay put and out of sight, no matter what. Got it?”

  “But Dad, they’re trying to get in through the top, and one guy is trying to cut a lock with bolt cutters.”

  “Are they armed, son?”

  “I don’t know. I only see tools—that’s it.”

  “Mark, we’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t try to stop them. Understand?”

  “But Dad!”

  “No, son. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Mel! We have to go now!” yelled David from the other room.

  Mel was startled and fell off the couch with a thud. “Ow! Crap! What’s the problem, David?”

  “There are some guys at your house—they’re breaking into your slab.”

  “No, no, no!” exclaimed Mel. “That’s all we’ve got!”

  “Let’s go,” said David, handing Mel an AR-15 rifle. David ran out the front door, jumping on the four-wheeler, with Mel riding on the back.

  “What about Mark?” asked Mel.

  “He and his buddies are there, but I instructed them to stand down.”

  * * * *

  Mark and his friends watched helplessly as the last lock was cut and a large metal door on the top of the slab was forced open. One by one, the men disappeared down the stairwell, wildly shining their flashlights, yelling and laughing.

  Mark counted six men inside, with just one man staying behind, as an apparent lookout. Mark was able to make out a rifle in his hands.

  * * * *

  David slowed the bike one-quarter mile from Mel’s place, parking it in some bushes. He knew Mark’s location and didn’t want to use the radio unless he had no choice. “We will be coming up behind Mark and his guys. They will be expecting us, but no sudden movements, buddy,” said David.

  “I hear you,” replied Mel.

  Their eyes were adjusting to the darkness as they followed the road to Mel’s once-formidable house.

  “Dad,” Mark called out quietly, as they got close to their position. Mark filled David and Mel in on what was going on. Six men inside and one lookout.

  Now Mel could hear the men laughing and hollering as they found more and more items to loot.

  Mel was furious, raising his rifle towards the man standing guard. “I’m not going to let this happen. I’m sorry, David.”

  Without a word, David grabbed the barrel of Mel’s rifle, jerking it toward the sky.

  “What the hell, David?” asked Mel, now confused.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” said David, digging into his daypack. “Now it’s my turn for a surprise, old buddy,” he added, pulling out a black canvas bag from the very bottom.

  “What is that?” asked Mark.

  “How do you get a gopher out of a hole?” David asked Mark and Mel, now grinning.

  Now Mel was smiling as he saw David’s bag open. “You smoke ’em out!” Mel laughed.

  “Mel, you and I will flank both sides and come up behind the guard. In exactly five minutes,” continued David, pointing to the watch, “Mark, you guys make a distraction and stay low. No gunfire, Just a couple of these,” he said, handing Mark a pack of ladyfinger firecrackers and a lighter.

  Exactly five minutes later, with no men exiting the structure, Mark lit the fireworks.

  “Bam! Bam!” they popped, distracting the lookout. With his rifle raised, he seemed confused as to where the noise originated. He pointed the gun back and forth in the direction of the sounds he heard.

  David and Mel quietly snuck up behind him. The barrel of Mel’s rifle poked his back as David grabbed his weapon from behind. “Quiet, now,” instructed Mel, “or you’re done.”

  They could now clearly hear the men inside the house, talking like they had just won the lottery.

  “We’re set for life,” said one, with another excitedly talking about all of the alcohol he saw. The other men were now arguing about how everything would be split up.

  “I found it all,” called out one man.

  “How about I take it from you?” yelled another.

  David could hear a scuffle, with one man clearly striking another.

  “Now!” called David to Mel, as he lit three of the smoke bombs, dropping them into the stairwell.

  David lifted the heavy door as Mel covered the scout. “Latch it!” called Mel. “Right down there,” he pointed.

  David latched the door and called to Mark and his buddies to come down. There were a few seconds of silence as he latched the door. Following were sounds of yelling, cursing, screaming, and finally coughing. Mark’s guys reached the house just as the smoke started to pour out of the trap door.

  “I want every rifle trained on this door,” called David, loudly enough to be heard by all.

  “I have to open this door now, or they will all suffocate. Don’t shoot unless you have to.

  “One, two, three...” David swung the door open on three. Smoke bellowed from the stairwell as the first man stumbled out and collapsed on the cement, coughing hoarsely.

  Three more came up behind him, gasping for air.

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Ten ~

  Raton Pass, New Mexico

  “That’s four!” shouted David. “Two more to go.”

  “Hey, I see something,” called out Mark’s friend, Jimmy, stepping up to look down into the hole.

  “No!” yelled Mel. “Stay back!”

  Jimmy’s eyes widened, and he froze, paralyzed at the vision of a man wearing a gas mask and pointing a rifle straight at him.

  “Crack!” came the sound from inside, as Jimmy’s head snapped backward, his body landing on its back with a thud.

  “No!” screamed Mark, looking into the still-open eyes of his best friend.

  Mark, in a fit of rage, ran to the open staircase, firing his weapon into the hole time after time.

  David grabbed his son and pulled him back.

  “I can’t lose you too,” he told Mark, tightening his grip.

  After five minutes, with no sounds coming from the stairwell, David and Mel cautiously peeked down the stairway. The man with the mask was in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

  Just one more missing,” said Mel to David. “I’ll go first, since it’s my house. You’ve got Mark to look after,” he said, as he slowly navigated the cement staircase.

  The smoke was mostly cleared, giving clear visibility with Mel’s headlamp. He reached the bottom of the stairs, recognizing the gas mask he had purchased a few years ago on the face of the now-deceased gunman.

  “One more!” shouted David from above. “There’s one more. Be careful, my friend.”

  Mel cautiously surveyed the basement, having spent countless hours here not long ago.

  There are four scenarios, he thought. First, he’s waiting to ambush me. Second, Mark got the count wrong. Third, he died of smoke inhalation. And fourth, he found the escape tunnel.

  Mel found his answer as he cleared each room, heading to the back wall. The contractor had a sense of humor and had the word Margaritaville stenciled on to the escape tunnel door, referencing a popul
ar ’70s Jimmy Buffet song.

  It was open for the second time ever after Mel had tested it when the house was first built.

  Well, it’s better than a shooter waiting to ambush me, he thought, remembering how the long tunnel led to a thick cover of trees and bushes nearly 1/8 mile away.

  “All clear,” he called out, loud enough for all to hear.

  David met Mel at the bottom of the stairs.

  “We’ve got five alive up top, but I’m not sure what to do with them,” said David. “We’ve got to hold them at the very least until we can clear this house.”

  “Agreed,” said Mel, “and maybe we can talk to them and see if we can work together in any capacity.”

  “I need to check on my son,” said David, disappearing back up the stairs.

  David pulled a distraught Mark aside.

  “Son, you lost a friend and had to take a life. I know it’s hard… What can I do, Mark?”

  “Nothing, Dad… It’s okay… It’s all just fine in this screwed-up next world—just another day at the office.”

  “Mark, my son, no. It’s not okay or just another day. You lost your best friend today, and that’s a tragedy. He was a good young man. Brave, tough, and a loyal friend. I’m truly sorry he’s gone. I’m truly sorry.”

  “I know, Dad,” replied Mark, clutching him close and burying his head in his dad’s shoulder. He cried openly, grieving his friend as the new captives looked on without a word.

  Mark’s other friend, Chad, holding the captive men at bay, spoke up for the first time.

  “What now?” he asked in a frightened, nervous voice.

  “Mark, you and your friend Chad go back to the house and get some of our group to help us transport Mel’s things. The four-wheeler is a quarter mile up the road, on the east side in some bushes. I laid a long stick in the road, so you can’t miss the marked spot.”

  David pulled Chad aside. “I’m sorry for your loss. He was a good kid…I mean, man. Keep a close eye on my boy, will you?”

  “Yes, sir. I will,” Chad replied.

  David called Mel back up the stairs. “Help me cover these guys until Mark and his friend get back.” The men were all standing with their hands in the air.

  “Okay, boys. One at a time over here,” David said, pointing to an open spot on the slab.

  With Mel providing cover, David instructed each man to strip down to their drawers.

  “Slow and easy,” he continued. “Any sudden moves and we will be asking questions later. Understand, boys?” he asked loud enough for all to hear.

  “Yes, sir” came a muddled response from the group.

  “Mel,” David asked quietly. “Where does that tunnel come out?”

  “Over there,” replied Mel, pointing to the south. “About 1/8 mile down. He may be back, and I damn sure don’t want to get ambushed,” he added.

  “Crack!” came the sound from the south. “Crack! Crack!”

  “I’m hit,” yelled Mel, falling to the ground, holding his right knee.

  David dropped to the ground beside him, returning fire in the direction of the shots.

  He was relieved, knowing Mark had gone the other direction.

  “They’re getting away!” called Mel, pointing towards the scattering men they were supposed to be covering.

  “Let them go,” David called out.

  “Where are you hit, Mel?”

  “Just in the knee, I think, but it hurts like hell.”

  “I’m coming, Dad,” Mark called over the radio, after hearing the shots.

  “No, son. You guys go back now and get help. I need every man in our group that can shoot down here. We’re running out of time, and we’re not going to lose everything now.”

  “But Dad, is it worth dying for?” asked Mark.

  “Yes, son, it is. Now go and don’t look back.”

  Mark and Chad raced back to the house. The sunrise was coming up from the east, over the trees. Mark stared in amazement at the sheer beauty of the dawn, praying for the safety of his dad and Mel.

  “You can count on me, Dad. I’ll make you proud,” he called over the radio.

  David smiled without picking up his radio.

  “You always do, son,” he said, while tending to Mel’s knee.

  Thankfully there were no more shots from the sniper in the bushes. But he knew they would be back. That was one thing they could count on.

  David was able to get Mel’s knee cleaned and bandaged with the first-aid kit from his backpack.

  “It looks like the bullet nicked the top of your tibia and went clean through,” David told him. “You’ll be down for a bit, but I think you’ll recover okay.

  “Take these,” he said, handing him a couple of pills and his water canteen.

  “What are these,” asked Mel skeptically.

  “Well, they’re not cyanide pills or spiked Kool-Aid, so don’t worry about it. They will lessen the pain but not make you too loopy. We’re going to need your help to get this done quickly. It’s a good thing you were shot anyway.”

  “What are you talking about, David? How’s that good? It still hurts like hell,” replied Mel.

  “Who’s a hot medic?” David asked, trying to hold a straight face.

  “Oh,” replied Mel. “That’s good. I see where you’re going with this. Do you think she and I could have one of the abandoned houses inside the security perimeter? You know, just because I may need round-the-clock care for a while.”

  Now they were both laughing. “Let me check with my dad,” said David, “but I’m sure there’s no problem with that. I’m sure he and my mom can’t wait to get you off of their couch,” added David, still laughing.

  “I’m just bummed you can’t show me around down there,” David said, pointing down the stairwell. “I was looking forward to it, if I’m being honest.”

  “Oh no, old friend. I’m not missing out on that,” replied Mel. “I’ll drop my ass down those stairs myself if I have to. I’ve got a couple of surprises you must see, messed up leg or not. Those Tic Tacs you gave me are helping with the pain some.

  “Here comes the cavalry,” said Mel, hearing the sound of engines coming down the road nearly 40 minutes later.

  “Let’s just hope it’s our guys,” added David.

  As the four-wheelers and two trucks with trailers came into view, he waved at Mark, who was leading the caravan.

  All told, there were 15 men and 3 women, including Tammy. David was happy to see that his dad was not here. He must be holding down the fort, he thought. He was already worried about Mark’s safety; he didn’t need to worry about one more.

  “Oh, sweetie,” Tammy said, as she saw Mel’s bandaged leg.

  “Did you do this, David?” she asked, pointing to the dressing.

  “Yes, Ma’am. I did.”

  “You did a great job, from the looks of it,” she said, smiling.

  “Time to get you home, honey,” she said, looking at Mel.

  “No, not yet, babe,” replied Mel. “I’ve got a few things to show my old friend here down in the basement.”

  David was getting annoyed at the “sweetie, honey, baby” talk but kept it to himself. There’s nothing more irritating than watching new love when you haven’t yet found your own, he thought.

  David gathered up the group to make a plan. He relayed the story of what had happened thus far and tasked eight men with perimeter security. Each would be equally distanced in a half-mile circle around the slab.

  “No one gets in,” David continued, “no matter what. The men from earlier will be back sooner than later. No one leaves a stash like this behind without a fight.

  “One radio stays with me here, and the rest go to each lookout. This may be the only time I say this to you all, but shoot first, and we will ask questions later.

  “The future of our group is dependent on Mel’s provisions down there,” he added, pointing to the stairwell. “We will not be giving that up to anyone. All agreed?”

  �
��Agreed!” they said together.

  With the trailers backed up to the slab, the rest of the men, except for David, Mel and Mark, started the long process of hauling the provisions and stacking them on the trailers.

 

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