by Lee West
He’d aided the cops by giving them advance warning of New Order’s plans. Once the Boss discovered the horse trail, Brown realized it would only be a matter of time before they would find that lady Doris and her house. Although Marta wouldn’t admit it, he knew the cops had created an underground railroad to remove their own from Porter. Doris would be killed on the spot or tortured for information and fun, whichever the Boss was in the mood for. He hoped Doris had already hit the trail.
The Boss had roughly thirty of his “soldiers” headed in her direction. Some were running the trail while the others drove the rough terrain. The drivers needed the guys on the trail to keep them following the route. Brown knew that the process of guiding the drivers from the trail would slow them down considerably. All the men were heavily armed, with the weapons stolen either from the Porter Police Department or houses they raided. The door to the communications room swung open with a loud bang.
“What the fuck are you still doing here?” shouted the Boss. “All you motherfuckers are supposed to be on that trail.”
“I assumed you wanted me here monitoring radio traffic.”
There was no way Brown was running that trail with the rest of the idiots. He’d managed to slip away back to the communications room when the Boss was busy shouting orders at the men.
“Monitoring? Is that what you call it? I call it ain’t doing shit. You haven’t heard a damn thing since you started.”
“No. But it could be that no one else has the generators we do to run their radios,” offered Brown.
The Boss eyed him suspiciously as he walked closer to Brown.
Jabbing his finger into Brown’s shoulder, the Boss said, “You better start hearing something, hoss, or your fucking days as a shitball radio jockey are over. You get me?”
“I’ll try harder. There has to be someone on the radio somewhere.”
The Boss lingered for another moment, staring intensely at Brown. The Boss had a way of looking through people. It was his favorite intimidation method. Hell, it worked every time on Brown. Beads of sweat slowly trickled down Brown’s back. Finally, the Boss broke his stare.
“I’ll be watching you.”
Alone again in the communications room, Brown knew he could not last much longer in this position before he got himself killed. He secretly wished the cops would hurry up and push into town.
“Hey, Brown. Give me a hand in the supply room,” whispered Johnny.
“What the hell? Why?”
“I need you to watch out for me. My grandma needs more food. I figured while they’re out, I would stock her up.”
“Shit. You’re going to get us both killed,” said Brown. “Come on, I’ll help you, but let’s make it fast.”
The two moved quickly through the quiet station. The interior spaces of the station were dark and shadowy from the lack of light. Even when the sun sat high in the sky, the station seemed to have a gloom that could not be chased away.
“I’m gonna grab some cans and other shit for her,” said Johnny. “What do you think they’re going to find on the trail?”
“Don’t know. Nothing, I guess.”
“You’re probably right. Glad I didn’t have to go. I guess being the Boss’s personal shit doer has its advantages.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
The Boss’s booming voice could be heard from down the hall.
“Johnny! Johnny! Where the fuck you at?” said the Boss.
“Damn it. I need to get out there. Grab this bag and hide it for me. I’ll get it from you later!” said Johnny, running from the room.
“Shit, man. Are you fucking kidding me?” said Brown, holding the bag away from him like it was radioactive.
“I’ll meet you in the comms room later,” said Johnny.
Johnny jogged down the hall toward the Boss’s office. Getting caught trying to steel food would get Brown killed. The Boss did not take stealing lightly. He quickly stashed the small bag of cans under the radio console, examining the hiding place from several locations in the room. Satisfied that their deception would remain undetected, he started to relax.
“New roommate, shitball!” The Boss’s loud voice rang out behind him.
Straightening up from a crouched position, Brown could not be entirely certain the Boss or the guy standing with him didn’t see him hiding the bag.
“This here is Bet. He’s gonna be joining you, helping you listen and shit.”
“Hey,” said Bet unenthusiastically.
“Really, Boss, I got this. I don’t need the help.”
“You ain’t heard shit. You’re getting the help.”
Bet settled into the chair beside Brown. If Bet heard Marta’s transmissions or any other ones, the Boss would quickly figure out he had been lying all along about not hearing anything on the radio. He needed to act fast.
“Why the fuck do they call you Bet?”
“I can burp the entire alphabet—bet is short for alphabet.”
“Nice.”
Purposely knocking his drink over, Brown yelled, “Oh shit! Go grab me some napkins, man!”
Bet ran out of the room. During his absence, Brown quickly reached over and disabled the antenna from the system. No one would notice unless they knew what to look for. The guy returned a few seconds later with a roll of paper towels.
“Thanks, man,” said Brown, mopping up the spilled warm Mountain Dew.
Chapter Five
Tank pounded his way through the Archers’ house, determined to figure out where they had fled after their escape. Fury had overtaken him last night when he realized that he could not grab that dumb bitch Lea without possibly getting killed. Her bitch mother, a stupid cop on top of it all, must have gotten a couple other cops to help with Lea’s rescue. Otherwise, they would have been no match for Tank and his guys.
Now he had to deal with the humiliation of his crew knowing that dumb bitch had escaped his grasp and killed a tidy number of his people in the process. A sign of weakness this big could mean the difference between Tank advancing in the New Order or getting killed by some punk-ass gangbanger looking to better his future. No. Tank would get that dumb bitch Lea and her mother. He had plans for the mother. She would be the prize catch. He planned to make her the centerpiece of the activities he had planned for Lea and her family. After that, Tank’s place in the New Order would be solidified. No one would step up to him ever again. Not unless they wanted their head mounted to a street sign.
Moving through the Archers’ house, the stench of Chill’s body overwhelmed him. The dude stank bad enough when he was alive. Tank replayed the entire scene in his head again. The Archers had been outside shooting at his men, but Tank rightly realized they would not risk shooting their own daughter. The bullets stopped the moment he walked out with that dumb bitch. He stuffed her in one of the trucks they had and simply drove off. The only thing he didn’t count on was that dumb bitch throwing herself from the truck as they sped out of the neighborhood.
Fucking bitch!
Reliving the events of the previous night reignited Tank’s fury. Seeing Lea push open the door and roll out onto the pavement made his blood boil with murderous rage. No one dared to cross Tank. Not even that dumb bitch and her cop mom. He would find them both, and they would pay dearly.
Room by room, Tank searched for any sign of their whereabouts. Pulling out drawers, he dumped their contents on the floor, kicking through their belongings as though they were discarded trash. He ripped the place apart, becoming more and more enraged by the minute at his inability to find any sort of clue.
Standing in the kitchen near Chill’s body, Tank stared at the pictures on the fridge. Magnets from various trips held the family’s memories. The Grand Teton magnet held a picture of Lea graduating from high school. The Florida Sunshine State magnet held a picture of the three of them smiling over a table of food at a resort. Picture by picture the Archers mocked him with their happy, smiling faces.
“Where the FUCK are you!”
growled Tank, his fists punching the wall next to the fridge.
On the side of the fridge, a lone business card hung silently by a “#1 Dad” magnet. Just a card. Nothing more. Nothing less. Tank saw the card through his peripheral vision. Grabbing it, Tank turned it over in his large dirty hands. On the back of the card someone had written #23C.
Bingo!
“Get your shit together. We’re moving out!” yelled Tank to the other men searching the house.
He never would have thought of a storage unit. Why would he? Who would go to a storage unit?
“Where to? You find something?” yelled Salem as he ran downstairs.
“I found this.”
Triumphantly, Tank held the card high for the men to see as though it were pure gold.
“What is it?”
“It’s a card to that storage place on Michigan Road, with the number 23C written on the back!”
“Shit! You think that’s where they’re hiding?”
“How the fuck should I know? We check it out. We either find that dumb bitch or we find some shit we can use. Either way, we need to get the fuck out of this shithole. The smell is killing me.”
Chapter Six
Jane crouched low in the shallow creek, swirling the water in and out of the red bucket. Since they didn’t plan on staying at the storage unit long term, they’d decided to use a bucket for peeing instead of the compost unit. They’d also gone through a lot of water trying to rehydrate themselves, which filled the bucket quicker than they had expected. Sam had offered to clean it again, but Jane needed a break from the storage unit.
Living inside a closed storage unit presented its challenges, a lack of fresh air being one of them. Sam had done an excellent job stocking them with everything they needed for at least a year, and with rationing, they could likely go longer, but they’d probably go crazy long before they ran out of food. The locker unit had already shrunk inside her head, and they’d been there less than twenty-four hours. The trick would be finding another location to safely ride out the New Order storm.
Standing and stretching by the water’s edge, Jane lingered. She had no real reason to rush back to the unit. Having a creek near the unit turned out to really benefit them. All part of Sam’s master plan, if they decided to remain in place for a long period of time. There was only so much water you could store in the locker.
Jane surveyed the land beyond the creek. She realized for the first time how sparse the trail was in these woods. She hoped Charlie and Mark made it back to Scott’s house without incident. Getting lost and veering into the New Order was something that had almost happened to her and Sam. Time to get moving.
Jane scrambled up the embankment, careful not to get scratched up again in the tangles of underbrush that grew on the sloped terrain. As she approached the top of the incline, near the storage facility’s fence, she heard voices. She lowered herself to the slimmest profile she could manage and unholstered her pistol. Two cars pulled up to the Store-Right facility fence, on the far side of the compound.
“Hey, Tank, it’s over here—number 23C is on this side!” yelled an excited male voice.
They found us.
Jane’s heart raced as she considered her options. Lea and Sam were in unit 52L. Sam had moved their things from 23C to 52L in order to get more space. He also liked that 52L sat in the back of the facility, near the woods. No one would see them coming and going from the road. Unit 23C was located on the other side of the facility, closer to the main road. Not far enough away to shield them entirely if someone happened to come in their direction. They needed to act fast.
“Get something to pry it open with!” shouted someone that sounded a lot like Tank.
Jane slipped through the fence and made her way to unit 52L. She lay flat on the ground and nudged the door open a foot or so, just enough to slide her slim figure under the door. Once through, she quietly shut the door, careful not to make a sound.
“Hey, honey, we can’t remember—is Uno won by getting the most cards or points?” asked Sam, with a casual air.
Jane’s eyes took a second to adjust to the gloomy interior of the unit. The battery-powered lanterns did a fair job of lighting the space, but it still seemed like a coffin after being outside.
“Ssh! Ssh! Quiet. They’re out there. Tank and his men found us. They’re on the other side. At unit 23C! We need to move.”
Sam stood quickly, dropping the cards in his hands. Lea sat motionless.
“How many are out there? Do we have a chance fighting against them?” asked Sam.
“No way. There are too many. We either stay put and hope they can’t open the unit—maybe they’ll lose interest—or we leave. I say we leave. They’ll stake out the place for sure, which will trap us inside. We can’t stay here indefinitely.”
“I’m with you. Let’s grab the packs and move out. I’m just going to add more medical supplies and I’m ready.”
“Be sure you put the water filtration unit back in your pack. It’s on the table,” said Jane.
“Got it.”
Chapter Seven
Lea knew that insane asshole would find her. He always did. Somehow Tank managed to stick to her like glue, no matter how many times she tried to escape. His obsession with her had become a single focused drive.
She didn’t understand why he’d kept her chained in the basement rather than killing her. It had dawned on her in the basement. She was smarter than Tank and he knew it. She never purposely bested him, it just happened naturally. Every time she figured something out before him or corrected him, another thread was sewn between them, binding them together. He needed to beat her. Until he had a victory over her, she would never be safe and neither would her parents.
She hurriedly shoved food, clothes and medical supplies in the pack her dad had given her. Something she’d just thought hit her like a ton of bricks. Tank would never leave any of them alone unless he got what he wanted.
“I’m not leaving,” she announced.
“What do you mean you’re not leaving?” asked Jane.
“I have to stay, or the two of you will never be safe.”
“Not a chance. We won’t leave you to that maniac,” said Sam, grasping Lea’s delicate hand.
“We need to stay together, for all of our safety, not just yours. Besides, there’s no way we will let you go back to him after what we went through to get you,” said Jane.
“You don’t get it. Tank will never stop until he has me back. I’m all he wants. If I go with him, the two of you can escape to the HQ and come back for me.”
“We’re wasting precious time talking about this. You’re not staying. End of discussion,” said Jane.
Lea bristled at her mother’s change in approach. Hearing the finality in her mother’s voice made her even more determined to take her chances with Tank. Sam moved closer to Lea and rested his warm hand on her shoulder.
“Honey, I need you with me. I don’t think I can handle knowing you’re with Tank again. It would break my heart. I simply can’t leave you here. If you stay, I stay. We can take our chances together.”
Her dad’s words always had a way of melting her heart. She knew he was serious. That he would stay with her and get killed in the process. He once again brought her back from that stubborn edge of anger elicited by her mom.
“Fine, Dad,” she said before stuffing the last few items in her pack.
“Alright. It’s settled. Let’s get moving. Do you both have everything?” said Sam.
“Yeah,” mother and daughter said in stony unison.
Chapter Eight
Sam lay flat on the cement floor of the storage unit, a mirror in one hand. He nodded to Jane to open the lift door. Slowly the door rolled quietly upward on its well-oiled tracks. When the door was high enough for him to effectively survey the surrounding area, Sam held his hand up, indicating she should stop. He quickly slipped a block underneath, wedging it open.
Mirror in hand, he surveyed the back o
f the facility. The distant shouts of men came from everywhere. It was difficult for Sam to determine the location of the men without stepping out of the unit. Leaving would be risky, but they didn’t have a choice. The storage unit would become their tomb if they were discovered. All the New Order men had to do was light a fire in each of the adjacent storage units. The smoke alone would drive them out.
Seeing no one, Sam indicated it was time to move. Both Jane and Lea slid silently out of the unit as Sam held the door in place. He pushed their bug-out bags through next. Once outside the unit, Sam locked it and wedged the shims into place. He figured most people could pop off the lock, but if the door wouldn’t budge, laziness would overcome desire to get into the unit. Or at least he hoped it would work. He hated the thought of giving up the storage locker and everything he’d stockpiled inside to Tank’s crew. Once the police resolved the New Order problem and Tank was gone, the supplies would be critical to their survival.
The three of them slipped through a break in the chain-link fence, scurrying into the brush on the reverse side of the slope. The New Order men were everywhere. Sam made sure they escaped undetected before crawling back to bend the links on the fence to mask their escape route. Even with his multitool, he would have a hard time putting the links back together without his gloves on. The rough edges of the metal would cut his fingers to ribbons. He paused to dig out his gloves, instead finding his hand on the backup weapon he carried in his pack.
For a moment he considered an alternate plan. Nothing would give him more pleasure than shooting Tank, even if it meant giving up his life in the process. Ending Tank’s reign of terror over their family was something he’d fantasied about long before the lights went out.