America Offline | Books 1 & 2 | The Day After Darkness

by Weber, William H.

  “Be careful,” a woman said, stepping forward. “Can’t you see that woman’s pregnant?”

  The guard closed his gloved hand around her face and shoved her back. The woman tumbled into the crowd gathering behind her.

  Brutal as it was, the move seemed to have the desired effect. The murmur of questions and complaints coming from the stirring refugees fell silent.

  Holly felt like a criminal as she and the others were perp-walked through the station.

  Suddenly, from out of the tunnel came the sounds of gunfire. For a moment, everyone paused and looked back, including the guards. The staccato was incessant and went on for what felt like forever. Then just as quickly the tunnel grew quiet.

  The blood drained from Amy’s face. She knew what that silence meant. That Nate, all alone and outnumbered, had likely been overwhelmed and killed by Sergei and his goons. First her sister-in-law, then her neighbors and now this. The two young red-headed boys, Hunter and Emmitt, were still in shock, their tiny faces ashen.

  They were marched through the station and up to the mezzanine. A metal door along the north wall opened into another corridor and a series of administrative offices. At the end of the hallway was a staff break room. A picnic bench sat in the middle of a nondescript room. It looked and smelled like a glorified prison cell. There was a small bathroom off to one side, although without running water, it wouldn’t do them much good.

  One by one they were shoved in. Amy too, who Dakota managed to catch before she hit the ground.

  “Even hyenas have more compassion than you,” the girl shouted at them.

  The guard sneered and was about to close the door when his mic came to life. “Vasily, what is your status?”

  “We’ve got them locked down, boss,” Vasily assured Sergei. “They won’t be going anywhere.”

  “Good,” came the breathless reply. It sounded to Holly as though Sergei was really hoofing it. “Get everyone into position on the double. We’re on our way, but the ambush didn’t go as planned.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re about to have company.”

  Chapter 29

  Nate and Colt pressed forward, wary of a potential ambush around every corner. He had seen how quickly Sergei and his men had run off. Did that make them cowards, or were they more interested in heading back for a bloody last stand on home turf?

  The grey concrete walls of the corridor swallowed the glow from his tac light. Along the ceiling overhead ran thick metal pipes, the veins and arteries of a circulatory system no longer in use. The air here was dusty and filled with motes that glittered in the beam of his flashlight.

  They passed through a doorway and were proceeding down a long corridor when they came to a break. Nate scanned left, checking it for enemies, and immediately came face to face with the barrel of a rifle. He ducked and made an upward blocking motion with his forearm, knocking the rifle’s muzzle off target and toward the ceiling. The guard in black and white camo grunted as he tried to bring his weapon to bear.

  Behind him, Colt drew his pistol, but couldn’t get a clear shot.

  If a recessed doorway hadn’t blocked him from backing up, that was precisely what the guard would have done. And chances were Nate would have eaten several incoming rounds. Already bent forward, Nate kept the guy close, coming up instead with his pistol and jabbing the barrel right under his chin. He gave him two shots, although one would have been more than enough.

  Nate grasped the rifle resting against his forearm before it had a chance to hit the ground. For the guard, it was a different story. Colt regarded the man’s crumpled form before stripping him of a pistol and any additional magazines.

  “Waste not, want not,” Nate said, pressing on.

  The next door spit them out into a scene of sheer panic as a swirl of screaming refugees and armed guards ran through the subway station’s lower level.

  This was not the way Nate had wanted this to go down. Dakota’s plan had been a simple one. Slip away from the shelter and hurry back into the snow and the cold before anyone was the wiser. Now they were facing a dire situation where more innocent people were sure to be killed. If Nate didn’t hurry, his remaining loved ones would share the same fate.

  Chapter 30

  Inside the breakroom, while Holly and Amy were comforting the young boys, Dakota was busy searching for something she could use as a weapon. A long umbrella hung from a hook on the bathroom door. She held it in both hands, jabbing at the air.

  “What are you gonna do with that?” Amy asked skeptically.

  “If Sergei comes in, I can stick this point in his eye.”

  “Then he’ll be missing one eye and one ear,” Holly said, letting out a nervous laugh.

  “I’ll take him apart piece by piece if I have to,” Dakota said, clenching her teeth.

  Dire as their present circumstances were, Holly had begun rethinking things. Like whether she should have stayed behind. Should have skipped the escape attempt. She had nearly gotten herself and Dillon killed. Now here they were, locked in a room, awaiting a fate that couldn’t be good. Not only that, but the pistol which had served her so well was now gone. It was difficult to underestimate how vulnerable that made her feel. That growing fear was eating away at her confidence, and, she was sorry to say, making her doubt every choice she had made in the last week and a half.

  Sitting nearby, Amy, still in shock, also had the look of someone who was just about ready to give up. It surely wasn’t easy trying to be a Wonder Woman when you were nine months pregnant. Dakota on the other hand, seemingly impervious to the pressures around them, hadn’t stopped since they’d been thrown in here. She was a fireball of grit and tenacity and Holly found herself admiring the young woman.

  Amy let out a moan and sat up straight, pushing Emmitt’s head off her lap.

  “Everything all right?” Holly asked, concerned. Had she been hurt when Vasily had so ruthlessly thrown her into the break room?

  Amy’s cheeks flushed as she drew in a deep breath and clutched at her belly.

  “What’s going on?” Dakota asked, dropping the umbrella and swinging around.

  Holly stood, asking what she could do.

  “I don’t know,” Amy finally replied, her jaw tight, her hands rolled into fists.

  Looking down, Holly noticed the jeans she was wearing were wet. Amy noticed it too. “Oh, my God. I think my water just broke.”

  For a second, everyone stood silent, failing to comprehend the full magnitude of the situation.

  Their troubles only deepened with the sudden sound of screaming and shouting from outside. Dakota had already tried the door a few times, but did so again and found that it was still locked.

  “Lauren would know what to do,” Amy said, angry and sad all at once.

  “That might be true,” Holly said, giving her the benefit of the doubt. “But unfortunately, she’s not here to deliver this baby. We are.”

  Dakota said to Holly, “You’ve had a kid. What should we do?”

  “Do? How should I know? I didn’t deliver Dillon myself. That’s why we have hospitals.”

  “Well, we gotta do something,” Dakota said, pacing back and forth.

  Holly went over to Amy. “She needs to lie down and we need warm water. Boys, help me put her on the picnic table.”

  Together, they helped Amy to her feet and placed her on the table. Once there, she began working on her Lamaze breathing technique.

  With the taps not working, Holly and Dakota opted to search for towels instead. But all they came up with was a dirty rag beneath the bathroom sink.

  Dakota grabbed the umbrella, headed for the door, and began hammering it with her fist. “Hey, we got a medical emergency in here, open up.” She turned to Holly. “Soon as he opens that door, I’m gonna jam the pointy end in his face.”

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

  Dakota was in the middle of pounding again when she heard the door handle rattle and a latch on
the other side click. The door swung open just as she lunged forward.

  The target of her attack let out a shrill scream and fell backwards, covering his face. Holly stood, stunned. “Johnny? What the hell are you doing here?”

  Behind him, the station was a cacophony of cries and gunshots. “I saw them bring you in here and waited for the right time to break you out.” He locked eyes with Holly. “I figured I owed you one after you saved me from the riot at Chicago O’Hare. I got this off a dead guy,” he added, holding up a pistol.

  Dakota traded him for the umbrella.

  “The hell am I gonna do with this?” he asked.

  “Stay in here and help Amy,” Dakota said.

  A look of utter horror formed on Johnny’s face. “Help deliver a baby? Are you insane? I’m no doctor.”

  Dakota was nearly out of the room when she skidded to a stop and spun. “Holly, you can handle a weapon, can’t you?”

  Brushing away the fear rising in her throat, Holly said: “You bet I can.”

  “Good, then let’s go.”

  Taking a deep breath, Holly bent down and kissed Dillon’s forehead. “Mommy will be back soon,” she told him, not entirely sure how much truth her words held. And with that, she straightened and followed Dakota into battle.

  Chapter 31

  Nate and Colt emerged from the service corridor and onto the northbound platform only to face a barrage of bullets. Both men leapt for cover, Nate to the left behind an aluminum bench, Colt to the right behind a steel pillar. Shots ricocheted all around them, pinging off metal and cracking tiles, spraying up small clouds of dust.

  Raising his head a moment, Nate could see at least two shooters were in the parked subway car. Frightened refugees attempting to flee were summarily gunned down. Soon the platform itself became slick with blood, leaving Nate to wonder if that had been part of their twisted plan. Heart hammering, Nate spoke into his walkie, laying out the situation as he saw it.

  This wasn’t the typical police operation where you surrounded the suspects and then called in the negotiator. This was closer to finding Isis fighters holed up in a mud brick house and having to go in without air or artillery support.

  A figure in black and white camo came charging around the corner, leveling his rifle at the center of Colt’s back. Nate took quick aim and filled him with three rounds. Down he went, only to have his weapon scooped up by a civilian huddled nearby. Emboldened, the man ran for the mezzanine staircase, scaling the steps two at a time. No sooner had he reached the top than he was shredded in a hail of gunfire.

  The starkness of the situation suddenly came into sharp focus. A few guards were holed up on both subway platforms with the bulk of Sergei’s men holding the mezzanine above. But Nate could hear other shooting going on up top, which suggested some of the locals had risen up.

  Colt called out to Brooks and Walker. “Status report.”

  “Brooks and I are working our way along the southbound train, but these roaches keep popping out at every turn.”

  “They’re shooting civvies, for God’s sake,” Brooks shouted with disgust.

  “All the more reason to stop them,” Colt replied, waving Nate forward.

  Catching the signal, Nate slapped in a fresh mag and jumped to his feet. Better now than never, he thought, moving quickly, dodging left and then right to stay out of their line of sight.

  Colt reloaded as well, afterward dropping to one knee to engage the guards barricaded in the first train car. Shots rang out from his AR-15, drawing the shooters’ attention, but also forcing their heads down.

  That meant it was Nate’s turn to leapfrog forward, just as he’d seen them do topside during the gangbanger ambush. Ducking into the first car, he slammed into the far wall behind a row of seats and waited for the first head to pop up.

  Less than five seconds passed before his patience was rewarded. Eyeing the barricade through his reticule, Nate rattled off a series of shots. The top of the first guy’s head was cleaved away. His friend, seeing where the shots had come from, moved over to return fire. To the average Joe, that might have seemed like the logical play, but in reality, it was exactly what Colt had been hoping they would do. With the shooter’s attention now on Nate, Colt rose up and moved in, killing the guard with a single well-placed bullet.

  From there, the two men worked their way from one train car to the next, flushing out and destroying Sergei’s men. The further along they got, the more senseless carnage they witnessed. It was as if their boss had ordered they take as many poor souls down with them as they could. The last guard on the southern platform was hunkered behind a stack of seats and suitcases. The corpses around him bore witness to additional atrocities. When a round tore through his right shoulder, he dropped his weapon and staggered out, one arm raised. Nate noticed the name patch and saw it was Dimitri, the same guard who had accosted him when he first arrived.

  “I’ve had enough,” he shouted in that strange half-American, half-Russian accent. “I surrender.”

  Colt slung his AR and pulled his pistol. “Get on your knees.”

  Dimitri stretched his unwounded arm higher. “Didn’t you hear me? I surrender.”

  “I heard you just fine. Now get on your knees.” Colt swiped his legs out from under him with a swift, powerful kick. Dimitri fell with a thud before scrambling to his knees. “Good boy. Now, what did you say when my family surrendered? When they begged for their lives?”

  Dimitri didn’t answer until Colt pistol-whipped him into complying. “Please.”

  “Wrong answer,” Colt said, firing point blank.

  The guard fell. And though it was barbaric, Nate couldn’t help feeling the first glimmer of justice had been restored.

  That feeling, however, was short-lived. Another call came over the radio.

  “The good news is the southbound platform’s been cleaned of mafia grunts,” Brooks said, breathlessly. “Bad news is we got a man down over here.”

  “Oh, crap. Who?” Colt asked. “Walker?”

  “No, Ash. And it’s pretty bad, but we think we’ve stopped the bleeding. We got a couple civvies here looking after him while we head back toward the mezzanine.”

  If Sergei and his men were still around, that was where they would find them.

  “Roger that. Meet you there.”

  Even though both platforms had been cleared, they could still hear a firefight raging at the mezzanine. Nate knew there wasn’t a second to lose.

  Chapter 32

  Dakota exited the break room, charging down the hallway toward the mezzanine. Hot on her heels was Holly, hoping to get her hands on a weapon of her own. They flung open the outer door only to see a darkened space. Frightened figures ran through a patchwork of dead and wounded, fleeing for safety. Dakota spotted something outside just to the left of the doorway and ran to grab it, returning a moment later with a rifle.

  They closed the door to the mezzanine in order to figure out what to do next.

  “You get this off a dead guard?”

  Dakota shook her head. “No, just some regular guy. He must have picked it up and charged in at the wrong time.”

  “Could you see where Sergei or any of his guards are hiding?”

  “Not really,” Dakota said, biting her lip. “Although I did see one of them crouched behind a turnstile.”

  That made sense since the mezzanine was mostly an open area. Except it also meant Sergei and his boys were blocking the main exits.

  Dakota handed Holly the pistol while she kept the rifle. Releasing and reseating the mag, Holly saw it was nearly fully loaded.

  A flurry of shots rang out on the other side of the door. Dakota had Holly pull the door handle while she took aim.

  Outside, a small group of regular folks must have grabbed some weapons and were charging the mobster’s position. Dakota slid out on her stomach, firing at anything near the turnstiles that moved. Flashes from the weapons on both sides lit the room.

  A refugee not five feet away took
a bullet to the chest and collapsed. Firing with her pistol, Holly worked her way over to the rifle he’d been firing. She scooped it up, seated the pistol in her belt and continued firing.

  The civilians who had joined the battle were likely enraged by the Russian mafia’s senseless massacre of their friends and family. Things seemed to be going well until one refugee after another was cut down. Soon, Holly and Dakota found themselves all alone.

  Now the enemy’s rounds were drawing closer and closer. A searing burst of pain in Holly’s thigh brought her to one knee. She looked down and saw blood running down her leg.

  But she kept firing, and so did Dakota, until both their weapons ran dry. Out came the pistol and within seconds that too was empty. There was only one other option. Retreat back to the breakroom and hope they didn’t get gunned down on the way.

  Gripping her wounded leg, Holly prepared to move when four figures emerged from the mezzanine stairway, peppering the guards hunched behind the turnstiles with accurate and deadly fire.

  Holly didn’t recognize any of them. But Dakota did and called out, “Give ’em hell, Nate.”

  Blood oozing from between her fingers, Holly watched Nate move across the floor with the others, laying waste to the inhumane scum blocking the exits. With his smooth scalp, muscular jawline and blazing eyes, she was happy he wasn’t coming after her.

  •••

  The four men were working together in perfect harmony, killing the enemy and pushing them back, when Colt went down. Nate knew he couldn’t stop shooting in order to help, but the way Colt dropped so suddenly, it didn’t look good. Dakota and a woman next to her moved into the hail of bullets to drag him to safety.

  This only made them push harder. Hot with rage, Walker shouted a litany of curse words as he dropped one guard after another.

  Unable to withstand the withering punishment, the enemy’s line broke. Two fled up one exit while a man in a dark suit tossed aside his empty weapon and fled up the other.