by B. B. Hamel
My only answer was more gunfire.
The guy did have a point, though. I was outnumbered in a bad position. I was running low on ammunition and I only had one spare clip in my pocket. Sooner or later, I wouldn’t have any bullets and they’d be on top of me.
I had to come up with a plan. I fired off a few shots and quickly reloaded. There was deadly silence for a second, which meant they were on the move.
I dove out of the room. I rolled as gunshots exploded all around me and came up in the room across the way. Inside, the guy that was trying to get the drop on me was surprised as fuck as I came up to my feet and punched his gun away.
I brought mine around but he tackled me to the ground. I grunted as I hit the floor and released my gun. I rolled, pushing him off, and managed to scramble away. I got to my feet just as he came at me. I blocked his punches and stepped into his range, elbowing him in the throat. He stepped back, choking, as I kicked him in the stomach, sending him toppling.
I grabbed his gun from the floor and put a bullet in his skull.
As I turned to face the next guy, I caught sight of a blurry motion smash down onto my head.
I dropped to the floor, but not before I squeezed off two rounds. The guy that hit me yelled in anger and pain.
He foot struck out, smashing me in the skull, and everything went black.
23
Piper
The water was still and beautiful as the breeze shifted slightly across the lake. Behind me, the shouts of men and gunfire screamed across the otherwise beautiful, idyllic morning. Birds scattered across the trees.
My heart was hammering in my chest as I ran. I stumbled over some roots, caught myself, and kept moving. I knew I could be shot by a stray bullet any moment, but I couldn’t slow down. I had to get away. I crashed through some brush and felt scratches run down my body, but I just kept going. Soon, I made it to the edge of the lake.
I stomped down the sandy bank and stepped into the water, feeling the freezing rush against my toes. I looked around at the open space, panicking, trying to find a place to hide.
Then I spotted it. Maybe fifteen feet away was an old canoe, wooden and painted red, chipping from old age and disuse. I sprinted over toward it and grabbed one edge. It was slimy and smelled like mildew.
I flipped it over then quickly crawled under. The outside world was suddenly shut out as darkness engulfed me.
Spiders, moss, and dampness. I could still hear the gunshots from the house, and I had to try to keep myself calm. Gates could handle himself. I wasn’t any good to him staying in the cabin, he’d just have to worry about me.
How did they find us again? I couldn’t understand it. There was no way that they knew about the General’s cabin. Tony wasn’t smart enough to follow that trail, just no way.
It had to be the General. He had to have sold us out to the mafia as soon as we left. The General knew guys, mafia guys, and clearly wanted to get some favor with them in exchange for giving us away. It was just so obvious.
That bastard sold out his own soldier. I wasn’t surprised that he was willing to give me away, but he was supposed to be this big mentor to Gates. I understood that he was upset over Gates’s decision to go back into Syria, but that shouldn’t have been enough to have him killed by the freaking mafia. That was just insane.
Clearly, we didn’t know General Maron like we thought we did. Or at least Gates didn’t. He was exactly who I thought he was, that bastard snake.
It took me a few minutes of terrified anger to realize that something was different. I couldn’t hear the sound of gunfire anymore. The whole place was terrifyingly silent, and that made me even more uncomfortable and scared.
I didn’t know what to do. If Gates had won, I should go out and let him know that I was okay. But if something bad had happened, I needed to stay hidden. He would want me to try and get away.
I couldn’t think that way. I couldn’t assume that he was dead. The thought drove me insane and sent a spike of grief through my core.
Then I heard something. It was a twig snapping. Maybe it was a deer or something, but no, every animal in a mile radius would have run away by now. No, that was a person. I could hear the footsteps, uneven and jagged, crunching down along the sand and stones.
Then the person started to whistle. A cold chill ran down my spine as I recognized that sound
It was Tony.
“Come out, come out,” he said. “I know you’re around here somewhere, Pipes.”
I closed my eyes and didn’t move a muscle. I didn’t even breathe, terrified that he’d somehow hear it. I knew he was bluffing, he had to be bluffing. He couldn’t know where I was.
“I saw the broken twigs, even a little blood. And there are footprints all over here. Did I tell you that I was a really good Boy Scout when I was younger? Of course, the Scouts wouldn’t be happy with what I do now, but fuck those pedophiles.”
I heard him walking around and the whistling began again, terrifying and strange.
“You know, Pipes, I really do love you. I thought we could have something together. But then you ran away from me, and now look where we are. Your little protector is dead, or at least he’s about to be dead, and I got shot in the fucking arm. This has been very, very annoying.”
Gates couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t be. A man like Tony couldn’t stop a man like Gates, they were just on two different levels. My heart was hammering so fast that I thought Tony could hear it.
“I know, you’re probably wondering what’s going to happen to you. Well, don’t worry.” I heard his footsteps stop nearby. I gripped the wood. “It’ll all be done soon.”
He flipped the canoe off me. Sunlight flooded into my eyes, blinding me for a moment. I felt him grab me by the hair and pull me to my feet.
Tony was grinning like a maniac with blood slowly moving down his arm. He laughed as he held my hair, pulling some out, yanking me around. He threw me to the ground and I cried out in pain.
“There you are, fucking cunt. I caught you, sneaky bitch.” He laughed. “You probably thought you could get away from me, but no, you were mistaken. I have a lot more power than you could ever have dreamed, you stupid bitch.”
“Fuck you,” I said, and spit at him.
He kicked me in the stomach. I doubled over.
“Smell that?” he asked. “That’s smoke. Your little boyfriend is back in that smoky cabin, about to burn to death.” Tony bent over and grabbed me by the hair, pulling me to my feet. “Come on, bitch. We have some work to do.”
We began to walk. He led me back up the bank and past the cabin. I could smell the smoke and see some flames through the windows. I wanted to scream and cry out, but I knew I couldn’t. Tony shoved me into the passenger seat of his car then went around and got in on the other side.
“If you give me trouble, I will beat you to within an inch of your life. Then I’ll let my men have their way with you. Understand?”
I nodded, eyes wide.
“Good. You stupid bitch. You’ve been a lot of trouble, you know that?” He sighed, starting the engine. “I might let my men have their way anyway, just because.”
We pulled out and started driving. I stared back at the cabin until it disappeared around a bend.
Gates was back there. Gates was in that cabin, burning to death. And I could do nothing to save him because I was weak and pathetic.
I held the tears back. I couldn’t give Tony the satisfaction. I wouldn’t let that maniac see me crying.
He reached across the seat and put his hand on my leg, a creepy smile spreading across his face. I couldn’t believe I used to want him to touch me like that.
“Don’t worry, Pipes,” he said. “It’ll all be over soon.”
He started laughing, and I had to force myself not to vomit.
24
Gates
I heard something crack. Glass shattered nearby. Heat was scarring my feet. My face felt like I had an awful sunburn.
I opened my eyes and co
ughed hard. Smoke was everywhere, billowing from the fire in the corner of the room.
The fucking fire.
I came to myself instantly. The fucking cabin was on fire, and I was still alive. I was in pain, but the idiot hadn’t finished me off. I quickly got onto my hands and knees, blindly groping for the door.
Nearby, I heard someone groan. It was the other mafia guy, the one that I was in the process of killing when that bastard blindsided me. I crawled over to him and grabbed him, pulling him along behind me.
Out in the hall, fire forced me into the next room. Ahead, I saw the windows. I got to my knees, leaving the guy, and grabbed a lamp. I smashed the window then grabbed him and dragged him over.
I climbed out first and then pulled him after me, not really bothering to protect him from the glass shards. He groaned as he fell to the ground beside me. I coughed hard and felt like throwing up, but I dragged him along behind me as we got further away from the burning house.
“Piper!” I yelled. I looked around, but couldn’t see her. The mafia’s car was gone, but the truck was still there. “Piper!” I yelled again, and stumbled down toward the lake.
What the fuck happened? I couldn’t imagine how they found us so easily. General Maron wouldn’t have given away our position so easily and quickly. There was just no way that he had betrayed us like that. Maron may have been angry with my choices, but he wasn’t a genuinely bad man. He wouldn’t have given us up to the mafia like that.
“Piper!”
There was no response. I moved down along the lake and found a canoe overturned near the water. There were footprints but I couldn’t figure out what had happened.
“Piper!” I tried yelling her name a few more times, but there was nothing. Just a deep, deafening silence.
She was gone. I had to accept that and make my next move. I went back toward the house and found the mafia guy I had pulled from the flames. He was beginning to stir, so I kicked him hard in the stomach.
“Fucking bastard,” I said to him. “Where is your boss taking her?”
“Fuck off,” he said.
I kicked him again. “Start talking and I’ll leave. Don’t talk, and I’ll break your fingers one by one.”
“Fuck you, pussy.”
I got onto my knees next to him and grabbed his hand. He tried to fight free but I easily subdued him, shoving his face into the ground. I grabbed his hand again and took his pinky.
“Tell me,” I said.
“No.”
I wrenched it back and he screamed. I heard the bones snap.
I grabbed his ring finger. “Talk,” I said.
“Oh, fuck you,” he said.
I snapped that finger and he screamed even louder.
“It only gets worse,” I said. “Talk.”
“Warehouse,” he said through the pain. “Warehouse in Chicago. On the edge of town. Used to be for some shipping company, J&J shipping. Fuck, I don’t know the address.”
I let go of his hand and stood. “Thanks,” I said.
“You’ll never save her,” he sneered.
I kicked him in the teeth. His head snapped back and I kicked him again.
“Watch me try,” I muttered as I walked away.
The truck was still sitting there. I had left the keys on the dash, and so I climbed in and started the engine.
As I went to pull away, it hit me. The reason for all of this. I had to sit there for a second and stare out the window, feeling so fucking stupid and tired.
I climbed back out and slowly walked around the perimeter of the truck, feeling along the edges.
In the back left wheel well, I found it. Small and black with a red light at the top. It was a fucking tracking device.
I dropped it on the ground and crushed it.
“Fuck,” I growled, anger surging through me.
The mafia must have bugged Randy’s truck when they first ran into him. That stupid bastard didn’t realize it, and I didn’t think to fucking check. They didn’t get us the night we slept in the truck in the field because they were too far away and couldn’t get there in time. But the truck led them right to the cabin and everywhere else since.
Those bastards were probably waiting for their moment to strike the whole time. I was so fucking stupid not to see this from a mile away. They were finding us way too easily like it was no big thing. As soon as I got into the truck, I realized that there must be some kind of tracking equipment. Maron would never betray us, and that was the only other option.
General Maron. I had to go check on him and tell him what had happened. I pulled out, driving fast toward his house in town. I remembered where it was and I hoped he hadn’t moved since I was last there, though I doubted he had.
For a second, I wondered if I should have killed that mobster back there, but it didn’t matter. He was likely dead either way. The mob wouldn’t take him back, not after he fucked up this bad. Plus, those kicks to the face might have finished him off.
I drove fast, getting away from the burning cabin. Maron’s place was probably twenty minutes by car, clear on the other side of town in a nice little suburb.
As I got further away from the cabin, I suddenly heard sirens in the distance. I kept my cool and clenched my jaw as cop cars raced past me, heading in the direction of the burning cabin. I guessed some neighbors heard the gun battle and called them in. I was pretty fucking lucky that I wasn’t going to be there when they showed up.
I was tired and in pain, but that had never slowed be down before. I guessed that the wound on my arm opened back up, and I had a few other cuts that might need some attention. All told though, I was in pretty fucking good shape for a guy that was left for dead in a burning building.
That bastard got lucky. I assumed it was Tony, the guy that started all of this, but I couldn’t be sure. I never got a good look at him.. Still, it had to be him. The bastard snuck up on me and coldcocked me from behind because he knew that he’d never get a real shot at me. I know I definitely shot him as I went down, and that was probably what saved my life. I probably hurt him enough to scare him off.
But of course the twisted cunt set the cabin on fire. He had to burn down any traces of what happened, not to mention finish me off.
He didn’t gamble for a man like me, though. He couldn’t have known that I’d be up and ready to get out of that building. He couldn’t have guessed that I’d interrogate his piece of shit friend.
I was worked up into a rage as I pulled into Maron’s driveway, tires screeching on the pavement. His place looked quiet, and I prayed that he was home as I ran up the walk and pounded on the door.
There was no answer from inside. I pounded again, and still nothing. I grabbed the knob and turned, and the door opened easily.
Instantly, I got a bad feeling. I stepped into the house and heard a radio playing in a back room.
“Hello?” I called out. “General Maron?”
There was no response.
I stepped into the living room. It was how I remembered, clean and modern with nice furniture and pictures on the walls. I spotted a photograph of his little girl dressed up as a ballerina and smiling huge.
I turned the corner into the kitchen and stopped in my tracks.
General Maron was sitting in a chair at the table with a bullet in his head.
Blood was everywhere. I couldn’t tell what had happened, but it was clearly bad. Maron’s wife was lying on the floor near the stove, her body bent back, her mouth hanging open.
“Fuck,” I said softly, staring in at the scene.
There was a gun on the table, and I recognized it as Maron’s own personal weapon. It looked like he tried to defend himself, but he was too slow. Whoever came here finished him without thinking or mercy. I hovered in the doorway, anger rolling through my body.
Tony did this. I didn’t know how he did or why, but he killed them both. The bastard murdered my mentor and his innocent wife all because he wanted to get Piper back. That sick fucking psycho was
going to pay. I smashed my fist against the doorframe. I was going to tear him apart limb from limb until he’s lying on the floor in front of me bleeding to death, begging for mercy. He won’t get any.
Just then, I heard a noise from the back room. I hesitated for half a second then went to the table. I grabbed Maron’s gun, checked the clip, and went toward the noise.
I was careful not to step in the blood. There was a hall off the kitchen that led back toward the laundry room. The door was shut and I heard another noise. Gun held level, I slowly pushed it open.
Sitting toward the back of the room was Maron’s daughter.
She blinked at me. “The bad men were here,” she said.
“It’s okay,” I answered, moving toward her. She flinched away. “It’s okay. I’m going to call for help.” I knelt down in front of her. “Do you understand?”
She nodded. She was maybe ten years old with frizzy red hair and freckles. The poor fucking girl.
“I’m going to call someone. But first, I’m taking you to your room. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Close your eyes. Close them tight.”
“Where are mommy and daddy?”
I shook my head. “Just close your eyes.”
She squeezed them shut. I took her and picked her up. I quickly left the room, ran through the kitchen, and took her upstairs. I found her bedroom and deposited her on the bed.
“Stay here until the police come, okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “I will.”
“Don’t go downstairs.”
“I won’t. Will mommy and daddy be back soon?”
“Yeah, sweetie. Soon. Just stay here.”
I didn’t have the fucking balls to tell her the truth.
I left her room, pulling it shut behind me. I walked into the master bedroom, found their landline, and dialed 9-1-1. I told the operator that there had been a murder at Maron’s house, gave her the address, and then hung up.
I went out front, got into my car, and left.
That was the real fucking shit back there. That was what really happened when the mob destroyed lives so fucking callously. This was real life and in the real world, there were always repercussions beyond what you could ever possibly imagine.