by Lee West
“What are you doing?” said Jane.
“Coming.”
Sam made a few adjustments to the fence before joining Jane and Lea. Together, they moved silently down the embankment toward the creek and the trail that would take them away from Tank.
Chapter Nine
Tank leaned against the fence, watching his idiot crew crack open one locker after another. None of the lockers held anything useful. Just a bunch of discarded and forgotten junk, like farted-on sofas and dinged-up old tables. Unit 23C was mostly empty, much to Tank’s dismay. A couple of wooden chairs and a broom were all they found in the Archers’ unit—if it had in fact ever been the Archers’ unit.
Just as Tank started to give up hope of finding anything, the answer occurred to him. If unit 23C was empty, they either no longer had a unit or they’d moved to a different one. Why would anyone move from one shit unit to another? All of the metal boxes seemed the same. Something didn’t add up. Surveying the facility, he noticed something he hadn’t caught before among the roughly two hundred storage units. Most were small, but a few of the rows held larger-sized bays. Unit 23C was a small one.
“Hey, let’s move back here to the big ones. They must’ve upgraded to the deluxe shit-box models,” yelled Tank on a hunch.
The men circled around the grounds to the back of the facility, which housed the larger units.
“Open the big ones only!” he shouted to the men as they moved to the rear of the grounds.
“Grab me the bolt cutters!” shouted Salem as he crouched down at the first unit.
Tank continued to walk the facility, sticking to the outer fence line, where he had the widest view of the place. The chain-link fence circled the entire storage lot in an unbroken line. Smoking a cigarette, Tank watched the men open locker after locker, finding more junk. Damn. Still nothing. Only one row of large lockers remained.
Taking the last draw of his cigarette, Tank flicked the butt into the air, creating a flash of hot orange ash in midair—his signature move. The glowing butt arched skyward before bouncing on the blacktop near the fence line. Glancing at the cigarette, his eyes were drawn to the fence. Son of a bitch.
The chain links had been cut from the ground to a point about three feet off the pavement, just large enough to peel back and squeeze through. Taking a closer look at the makeshift opening, Tank noticed that the grass and bushes outside the fence were trampled. Someone very recently has been coming and going through the fence.
“Hey, get over here. I found something!” shouted Tank to the men.
His men arrived a few seconds later.
“What is it?” shouted Salem.
“Look at this. Someone has been coming and going through here, probably stealing shit from the lockers. Let’s follow their trail and see what we find.”
“What trail?” said Salem as he pulled back the cut metal links.
“Just get moving, asshole,” growled Tank.
Tank and the others slowly fought their way through the dense brush, every scrape and jab infuriating him. He would find Lea, and when he did, she would pay a steep price for making him go through all this.
“Do you think this connects to anything?” asked Bardo, a bearded heavyset man.
“How the fuck should I know? Do I look like Daniel fucking Boone?”
The man’s face reddened at Tank’s mockery. Good. Served that jackass right. He always asked too many stupid questions.
The woods seemed to close around them. Everywhere they turned looked the same to Tank. He couldn’t be sure they weren’t moving in circles.
“Let’s head back up. They’re gone.”
As they scrambled up the embankment, Tank caught sight of a small red object. Leaning into the bushes, he picked up a cherry red hair scrunchy. Lea’s scrunchy. That dumb bitch always wore her hair in the laziest way possible—a scrunchy. He had been right all along. They had been here. Moving through the fence onto the pavement, Tank redoubled his resolve to find Lea and teach her the most important lesson of her life.
Chapter Ten
Sergeant Dale Spencer urged the bike team on, toward Doris’s house, leaving the foot mobile group behind to wait for their reconnaissance report. They streamed toward Doris’s house with quiet precision. About a half mile from her home, Spencer halted the team. They needed to carefully scan the area before charging in. The New Order might have beaten them to the location.
“Alright, guys, listen up. We’re approximately half a mile from the target. Green and Shorey, take a five-minute breather, then head out to conduct a stealthy reconnaissance of the immediate grounds surrounding the target. We need to know what we’re getting into. If the New Order beat us to Doris’s house, we’ll have to take an entirely different approach.
“Got it,” said Officer Green, between pulls of water.
“The rest of you start prepping your gear. Be ready to move out within thirty minutes.”
“What about the bikes?” asked Officer Gould.
“Let’s get the bikes off the trail. Turn them around so they’re facing HQ, and lean them against the trees. Somewhere out of sight. If we need to make a hasty retreat, those should be ready to roll when we are.”
Gould nodded. “I’ll find a good spot.”
Spencer pulled Officers Green and Shorey to the side.
“Move quickly, but carefully. Fall back immediately if you run into trouble. Remember. Your job is recon, not Rambo. Got it?”
“Yes, Sergeant,” they said in unison.
“Alright, good luck.”
Both Green and Shorey were young and fairly new to the force. He needed their athleticism and eyes, not their tactical acumen for this mission. Calculating the time to run from their current location to the house and back, adding the surveillance time, Spencer estimated the men should return in thirty to forty minutes. Setting his watch timer, Spencer hoped he didn’t just send the two brave young men into an ambush.
A few moments later, the forest swallowed the two men, leaving Spencer to organize the rest of the group. They’d need to set up a perimeter while they waited. They were in hostile territory, a fact that he couldn’t afford to forget. With a little luck, the group of officers on foot would catch up before Green and Shorey returned, giving him a sizable assault force.
~ ~ ~
Officer Seth Green grew weary as they approached Doris’s house. He jogged closely behind Dan Shorey, but Shorey was a better, stronger runner than Green. The difference between the two men became painfully obvious the further they ran. The Evansville Police Department had become a second home to Green. He’d grown up near Evansville in a small town up north. Becoming a police officer and joining the force was the proudest day of his life. Finally he had something to believe in. Serving and protecting the people of Evansville was more than just a job to him, it was his life. The danger of their current situation did not bother Green, so long as his efforts served to protect the citizens.
“Hold up. We should lie low and crawl to a lookout position,” said Shorey, taking a knee behind a tree.
Green caught a glimpse of the white farmhouse through the trees. The farm sat in the middle of a large expanse of open land, which he assumed was mostly ringed by the forest.
“Here’s what we do. Seems like we’re approaching the side of the house, which works out perfectly. You go to the right, viewing the front, and I’ll make my way to the left, where I can scan the back. The only area we won’t be able to thoroughly examine is the far side of the house.”
“I think we’ll be able to make a solid assessment watching the sectors visible from this side,” said Green.
“I agree. Let’s set our watches and plan to be here in fifteen,” said Shorey.
“Got it.”
“Remember. We don’t engage any hostiles. No matter what we see.”
“Roger that. See you in fifteen.”
Green moved slowly through the forest, finally catching his breath. He opened his senses to the world around
him in an effort to see and hear more as he approached. Anything could happen. He needed to be sharp. Judging by the cruelty inflicted on his brothers and sisters on the force by the New Order, he couldn’t be too careful.
Settling into a good position along the edge of the forest, Green pulled out his binoculars. Let’s see what we have. He moved his eyes methodically over each front window of the house. All of the windows were closed, which was a good sign. The first thing he’d do if he had to barricade a house like this would be to open the windows. Easier to hear and shoot someone that was approaching the house. Some of the windows were covered with curtains. Looked random to Green. Another good sign. He stared at each window for several seconds, looking for any movement. Nothing. Everything looked normal except the smashed blue flowerpot in the front yard.
The shed next to the house looked the same. The large roller doors on the shed were shut, and nothing moved behind the windows. The gigantic antenna attached to the shed explained why the chief wanted to keep this place out of New Order hands. If everything went well, the police could use that radio to communicate with other towns or the National Guard. They had precious little information about the world beyond the few surrounding towns. Figuring out what had happened to the electricity was on everyone’s mind, but knowing how long the blackout would last was even more important.
After glancing at his watch, Green gave the house and grounds one more look. From what he could tell, the house, shed and approaching road were quiet. He swept the binoculars along the tree line on the other side of the clearing, finding an opening into the forest. It appeared to be a path of some sort, heading south toward Porter. The path must be the horse trail the others used to escape. He was about to head back to meet Shorey when he detected movement on the path.
He watched the path very carefully, looking for anything out of place. Sure enough, something stirred in the foliage. He watched and waited, focused intensely on the forest behind the trail. So intensely that he barely noticed Shorey creep up on him.
“Geez, Green. I’ve been looking all over for you. We were supposed to meet eight minutes ago.”
“Get down. I think I have something.”
Shorey quickly lay flat next to Green on the soft pine needles.
“Straight ahead at two o’clock. Something or someone is moving in this direction from the path.”
“Got it.”
“What do we do?”
“We wait and see, then report. Just like Spencer ordered us to do,” said Shorey.
Green’s hands sweated in anticipation, eyes trained on the dense brush of the path just beyond the trees.
Two people emerged from the horse trail. A twentysomething man and woman dressed in hiking gear.
“Hikers?”
“Looks like. Let’s see what they do. Maybe they’ll knock on the door. House was quiet on the back side.”
“Same here until those two showed up.”
Sure enough, the couple walked up the large wraparound porch and cautiously peered into the windows. The woman tried the front door without success. They walked around to the back of the house, out of sight.
“What do we do?” asked Green.
“Nothing. I say we give it another minute. See if anyone inside opens up. If not, seems like we just confirmed the house is empty.”
The two sat silently watching. The couple moved back to the front of the house, grabbing peaches from one of the overburdened trees.
“Let’s get back.”
Chapter Eleven
Dale Spencer glanced at his watch for the fiftieth time since Green and Shorey had left. Sending the two of them out alone was a necessary risk, but it still made him extremely nervous. The team needed to be sure of the situation before they raced in.
The men approached from a different side than Spencer anticipated, throwing him off. They looked like they’d seen something.
“Glad to see you guys. What are we looking at?”
“The place is deserted. No sign of any New Order men in the vicinity,” said Shorey.
“That’s great. We should have a good shot at this, then.”
“Except,” said Green.
“Except?”
“Two hikers showed up just as we were leaving. We lingered to watch them. They peered into the windows and tried to get in the house. The place is buttoned up. And there was no reaction from inside to their arrival.”
“That’s good news. Did they leave, or are they still there?”
“They were sitting on the porch steps, eating peaches, when we left,” offered Shorey. “They looked harmless enough.”
“What’re we looking at in terms of grounds and buildings?”
“Two structures, a house and a large work shed set out approximately like this,” said Green as he drew a map of Doris’s property.
“What do the grounds look like? Is it clear or wooded?”
“The grounds are completely clear. Looks like some sort of working farm. As far as we can tell, the New Order would approach from here or here,” said Green, pointing in turn to the horse trail and the road’s entrance on the map.
“Nice work, guys. Grab your packs and gear up. We leave in ten.”
Spencer walked over to the rest of the group. The remaining ten officers sat in small groups, chatting softly to break the tension. Controlling pre-operation jitters could make a huge difference in their success. The team needed to be sharp, not locked up with anticipation.
“We confirmed the house is still empty. Looks like we caught a break by beating the New Order here. This will give us time to get set up for their arrival. Be forewarned, Shorey and Green spotted two civilians. They may or may not be there when we show up. Either way, we need to ensure they don’t get caught in any crossfire.”
The group listened intently while prepping the last of their tactical gear.
“The rules of engagement are as follows: we shoot the New Order on sight if they approach the house. We don’t have the capacity to take prisoners at this point. The chief ordered there to be no prisoners. Are we clear?”
“What do we do if one of them is wounded?” said Green.
“I’m not executing anybody,” said another officer.
“Nobody’s asking you to execute anyone,” said Spencer. “But I need to know you’re willing to open fire first, without issuing any warning to the New Order. The house is important, and we’ll need every bit of advantage we can muster. Does anyone have a problem with that?”
A few of them muttered, but nobody refused. Spencer knew his officers would be uncomfortable killing the New Order men on sight; however, they had no practical way to secure and feed prisoners. Trying to re-create a prison system in their current predicament would likely result in more police casualties. The decision was made and they would execute it.
“You didn’t really answer the question,” said an officer.
Spencer considered his response, not wanting to lose any of his officers.
“Here’s how I see it. We’re at war with the New Order. If an enemy combatant falls wounded on the battlefield, it’s not our responsibility to patch them up. We’ll take away their weapons so they’re no longer a threat and then assess their situation. My number one priority is removing the threat. I won’t execute anyone, either, but I won’t risk your lives to save any of those scumbags. Frankly, we’ll be lucky if we can take care of our own wounded, let alone theirs. That’s the situation. If you’re not okay with this, I need to know right now. No judgment.”
He locked eyes with each of his officers for a few seconds, gauging their reactions. From what he could tell, he hadn’t lost anyone.
“We move out in five.”
~ ~ ~
Deputy Kara Lovell walked behind Seth Green as the group approached the house. A veteran police officer in the tactical unit, Lovell had seen her share of hostile takedowns. She double-checked her vest pockets for her supplies. Extra ammunition, weapons, a hunting knife and two flash grenades were neatl
y packed away. Double-checking her load out usually calmed her pre-mission nerves. Not this time.
She had never been on a mission that involved shooting first and leaving survivors to die. This did not sit well with her, but she couldn’t see a way around it. The situation required a dramatically different approach than what they were all accustomed to, but leaving the wounded to die felt unethical. She hoped it didn’t come to that.
The team approached the tree line near the edge of the clearing. Sergeant Spencer sent two men to the front of the house and two to the back. The others waited and watched. The two in the front quickly pushed their way through the door and into the house. The back door must have been breached as well, although she could not tell from her vantage point. Shouts of, “Clear!” rang through the house, echoing in the forest.
One of the breaching team members stood on the front porch and gave them a thumbs-up.
“Let’s move in,” said Sergeant Spencer.
The group gathered on the front yard under the shade of a tree. Their sergeant and team leader scoped the surrounding area. The four members of the breaching team joined their huddle.
“Here’s what we have. Two points of approach, the horse trail over there and the road right here,” said Spencer while pointing to the openings in the forest. “We need to cover both points while also planning for any surprises the New Order throws in our direction. Green and Shorey, I want you on the forward observation post. Hike about a half mile up the horse trail and wait. The first sign of the New Order, you radio it in. Markus, Lovell and Peterson, I want you in the second-story windows, there and there. Roy and Stacy take the shed. The rest of you filter in behind the house and well.”
The team quickly disbursed to their assigned locations and waited. For Lovell, waiting was always the hardest part of a tactical operation. Ensconced in a forward-facing second-story bedroom, Lovell made preparations for the attack. She created a makeshift bunker with the mattress and laid out her extra weapons in a way that would facilitate her quick access.