Days of Chaos

by Hunt, Jack

  “Oldman, speak up, I can barely hear you.”

  His voice kept crackling over the radio.

  “There is a riot.”

  “A riot?” He looked at Elliot. “Sarge! We’ve got problems.”

  He continued speaking to Officer Oldman as he made his way over.

  “An officer is down, and a riot has erupted at the Olympic Center.”

  “Well get Palmer or one of the others over there.”

  “He’s the one that’s down.”

  “What?”

  Gary snatched up the radio. “Oldman, what is going on?”

  Static came over the line and his voice kept cutting in and out. In the background they could hear people shouting and guns firing. “Sarge, we need backup!”

  Without wasting a moment they hurried over to the Jeep and hopped in, Jackson followed in a battered old truck that was barely functioning. As one of the first orders of business after emerging from twelve days inside the bunker, Gary and the other officers handed out flyers requesting any vehicle that was operational to be made known. There weren’t many, so some of the police and volunteers had to be dropped off at checkpoints.

  After getting in the Jeep, Gary smashed the accelerator and tore out of there with Jackson not far behind.

  Magnus shattered one of the rear windows on the home before climbing inside. Sawyer and Tyron joined him while the other six remained outside keeping an eye out for possible threats. He couldn’t understand what Cole’s problem was. It was easy to control them. Before leaving the tavern, he’d fed them and given them alcohol to lower their inhibitions. Though Sawyer was nervous about arming them so soon after gathering them together, he’d reassured him that they had nothing to worry about. They’d already given them more than anyone else had in town. He’d also used wisdom and approached six individuals he knew either personally or indirectly through other friends, people who were struggling and were looking for hope.

  That’s what he offered them now — hope of a new tomorrow.

  Tyron held Maggie tightly and dragged her around like she was a rag doll. Magnus walked over to the mantelpiece and picked up a photo of the happy family. It was a shot of them standing beside Elliot in full uniform.

  “Interesting. Seems we got ourselves a military boy,” Magnus said before dropping the photo and crunching the glass below his boot. “Oh well, they bleed just the same.” He swiped his hand across the surface of the mantel knocking flowers, photo frames and décor to the floor. It clattered, and some of the ceramic cracked.

  “Well make yourselves comfy, boys. We’ll wait until he returns and give the man a hero’s welcome.”

  Magnus strolled over to the window and hollered out. “Come on in, guys.”

  He believed as long as he treated them with respect and showed them at every step of the way that he was in control, they’d fall in line. Killing Cole had been in the cards for years. If the power grid hadn’t gone down, Cole would have still died. His lack of judgment in business, his inability to make the hard choices made him weak. Magnus could smell it. He wasn’t the same guy he was when Magnus first met him. And after the way he treated Damon, he knew it was only a matter of time before he got them in trouble with the law or worse — killed. Nope, he wasn’t going to find himself on the end of a bullet or stuck behind bars because of Cole. The future was his for the taking and he damn well was going to make sure it worked in his favor.

  Once Elliot was dead, he’d return to Keene and set in motion a new way of living, one in which those who worked with him would live and anyone who refused or resisted would be killed. It wouldn’t take long for people to get in line. Either they helped, or they were of no use to him. He’d set up checkpoints; gather together a group that was fifty strong and then branch out into smaller towns in the area, draining them of their resources. It wouldn’t take long to establish themselves as a group to be feared. As for those who would try to knock him off his game, it wouldn’t end well. He would keep a group around him at all times just in case anyone wanted to challenge his authority.

  He strolled into the kitchen and began going through the cupboards.

  “Where’s he keep his food?”

  “I don’t know,” Maggie said.

  Magnus grinned and walked over to her and grabbed her by the ear, bringing her head down to chest level. “Bitch, don’t play with me. Where is it?”

  She let out a cry like a stuck pig. “Down in the bunker.”

  Maggie motioned with her head toward the yard.

  “A bunker? Huh, well how about that? Maybe Trent wasn’t a fool after all.” He pulled Maggie away from Tyron’s grasp and led her to the back door, tossing her outside. “Lead the way.”

  Chapter 21

  It was complete pandemonium. When they arrived Officer Oldman was outside waiting to meet them. He’d taken cover behind a truck and was getting assistance from two volunteers who were both armed. Gary swerved the Jeep in behind his vehicle and hurried over. Jackson pulled in close behind them to create a barrier.

  “What’s going on?” Gary asked.

  “James Bolton, and another man I can’t recognize entered about forty minutes ago. They instructed everyone to get out if they wanted to live. They shot Palmer who was visiting his mother at the time. They’ve barricaded themselves in there.”

  Gary frowned. “And where the hell were you?”

  “In the vehicle taking my lunch break.”

  “You’ve got to be joking?”

  “Sarge, I have to eat.”

  “So no one did anything?” He looked at the two volunteers who looked scared shitless. They shrugged. And right there was the reason why making people officers wouldn’t have worked. Wearing a badge meant nothing without training. The inability to think on their feet meant when the shit hit the fan they would choose self-preservation over all things. Whereas officers and soldiers were trained to face their fears and ultimately do their job, even if it meant losing their life in the process. Elliot scooted up to the corner of the truck with his AR-15 in hand and peered around. The Olympic Center was a huge, three-story, gray brick building with lots of tinted windows. It made it hard to see the suspects. There were two tiers of balconies that might offer them a way to get in unnoticed and a possibility of entry via the side but without being able to see them they would be taking a big risk. Elliot pulled back.

  “Are you sure it’s just two?” he asked.

  Oldman nodded.

  “Have you asked him what he wants?” Gary asked.

  “I didn’t have a chance. The few attempts I’ve made to get close I’ve come under heavy fire.”

  “From where?”

  “They keep shifting position.”

  “Fuck!” Gary said.

  “But that isn’t the worst of it.”

  Gary rolled his eyes. “How can this get any worse?”

  “I just heard from two of our officers that a number of fires have been started on the north and east side. Fourteen homes have already been wiped out, the hardware store and a pharmacy are engulfed in flames and even with all this snow, it’s still burning out of control.”

  Gary peered through the passenger side window. “Two individuals storm our main supply area, fires break out. Oh no, not a coincidence at all. Bastards. I wouldn’t be surprised if Murphy is behind this.”

  “The chief?” Oldman asked.

  “Assistant.”

  “You don’t know that, Gary,” Elliot said taking another look.

  “You heard him. What better way to get the townspeople behind him in executing criminals than to create his own form of chaos?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Right now, we need to gain control of that building again. I have an idea.” He shuffled over and pointed to Olympic Road that ran northeast of the building. “There is a low balcony on the east side. Oldman, I want you to take your truck and drive it at the main doors. Jackson, you and the others will provide cover from here. No doubt they’re watching. While you do that, we�
��ll go around the side and breach the east.”

  “You want me to what?” Oldman asked. “Hell no, they’ve already killed one cop.”

  “We don’t have any other choice. We need to get inside and end this now.”

  He looked reluctant, but that was to be expected. They were all going beyond the call of duty. Oldman popped open the passenger side and slipped in while Gary and Elliot returned to the Jeep and reversed back up Main Street and brought the Jeep around into the parking lot of the Crowne Plaza. As soon as Oldman hit the building, they would drive up to the east side, get out, hop on the roof of the Jeep and climb up.

  “We’ll need to move fast. I’ll climb, you watch my six,” Elliot said as he revved the engine waiting for Oldman to make his move. A few seconds, then a minute passed.

  “What is he waiting for?” Gary asked with a scowl on his face.

  “The guy’s scared.”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  Elliot cast him a sideways glance. Right then Oldman hit the gas and the truck lunged forward. It went up the curb and then came the gunfire.

  “Go!” Gary yelled. Elliot smashed the accelerator and tore around to the side of the building. He ducked as he got out after hearing steady gunfire. At first he couldn’t tell if they were coming under attack or if it was Oldman. He gave it ten seconds before he scrambled up like a monkey. Gary followed suit, and he reached for Elliot’s hand. As he latched on to it, for a split second a thought of letting go went through Elliot’s mind. It didn’t last. Once over, Gary used the butt of his rifle to shatter a pane of glass and they climbed into a conference room. There was a large mahogany table that seated twenty people and black leather chairs. They hurried past it and exited the door and entered the carpeted corridor. They could hear gunfire as they hugged the wall with their backs and headed in the direction of all the commotion.

  “You know this is like Driving Miss Daisy. Can’t you go any faster?” Jesse asked. The damn car hadn’t gone over 55 mph since leaving Keene. They were crawling along.

  “No can do! I’m not getting this paint chipped. This is the original.”

  “This guy is out of his mind,” Jesse said, turning to Damon who hadn’t said a word since leaving the tavern. Jesse studied his face. The look of anguish hadn’t changed. “You know Cole would have killed us in that forest.”

  “He was still a good friend of mine.”

  “You certainly know how to pick friends,” Jesse replied. They were just coming up to the turnoff for Cobble Hill Road when they saw the dead officer and volunteer near the checkpoint. Amos brought the vehicle to a stop. It idled as Jesse jumped out to check on them. Damon wanted to keep going but he wouldn’t leave without first making sure they were dead. One glance and that was enough. He didn’t even have to touch their pulse. Their bodies were riddled with bullets and the surrounding snow was soaked in blood. After returning to the vehicle they veered onto Cobble Hill Road.

  Rayna held back tears as she strolled up Mirror Lake Drive thinking about her conversation with Jill. She was exhausted and tired of having to explain herself. The fact that Gary hadn’t said anything to her only infuriated her more. A cold wind blew hard causing snowdrifts against the corners of homes and cars. She kept a tight grip on Kong’s leash as they headed back home. Evan and Lily were bundled up with so many layers they could barely walk. She passed several neighbors carrying rifles. It was becoming the norm as people lived in fear of home invaders. After what had occurred two weeks ago, word had spread fast and everyone she knew was taking some form of precaution — whether that was leaving their homes and staying at the Olympic Center or moving in with neighbors to double their chances of survival.

  Elliot moved along the corridors raking his gun and fully expecting to engage with a suspect at any second. His heart was pounding in his chest, beads of sweat formed on his brow and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears.

  From the second level they could see Oldman reverse his vehicle in a haphazard manner. The windshield and metal were riddled with bullets and steam was rising from holes in the hood.

  They entered the stairwell, and he held the door as Gary took the lead. The closer they got to the first floor they could hear voices echoing and rifles being reloaded.

  “They’re not getting in, don’t worry,” a gruff male voice said.

  At the door to the next level Gary cracked it open and Elliot took a look. He could only see one way down the corridor and no one was there which meant they were either farther down or to the right. They waited ten, maybe twenty seconds until they heard more gunfire before Elliot gave a nod to Gary to pull the door. He would go left while Gary went right. Elliot tossed up three fingers and counted down. As soon as he hit one, they moved out. There was no one to the left. It was a long corridor with plush carpet and multiple thick pillars. Both men had positioned themselves in an area by the window on the west side of the building. There was about sixty yards between them and the suspects. Both were dressed in hunting gear. One looked in his direction and shouted.

  Before he could raise his rifle, Elliot took the shot, sending the man staggering back. Gary trained his rifle on the second guy and dropped him with two shots to the chest. They quickly took cover behind pillars as three rounds punched through drywall and glass, sending shards across the room.

  James Bolton kept them under steady gunfire as he staggered away taking cover behind pillars before ducking into a stairwell farther down. The thud of the door got them moving. They hustled down the corridor and made it to the exit. Gary kicked the door open and pulled back as rapid fire peppered the walls on the other side. Elliot could hear him breathing hard and groaning. He wasn’t sure where he’d struck him, but he was injured badly and chances of him escaping were getting slimmer by the second. Elliot entered the stairwell hugging the wall and moving down the staircase as Gary fired a few rounds between the steps.

  On the way down they saw blood smeared against the wall where Bolton had obviously used it for support. When they reached the ground and emerged, Bolton turned but he was out of ammo. As he tried to load another magazine in, Elliot fired a bullet in his leg. He crashed to the ground with a thud and screamed in agony clutching his thigh as they hurried over. Gary kicked his weapon out of the way while Elliot dropped down and grabbed him by the collar.

  “Who put you up to this? Huh?”

  “Fuck you.”

  Elliot stood up and pressed his boot down on Bolton’s wound. He screamed.

  “Give me a name!”

  It was possible that no one had, and they were simply acting out of desperation and greed, but neither he nor Gary could ignore the timing of the sudden surge in fires across the town. Gary stepped in. “Elliot!”

  He shook him off. “No, I want a name!”

  Bolton’s mouth opened, letting out an ear-piercing scream before he gave up the name. “Foster Goodman. It was Goodman!”

  Elliot released his foot and before Gary had a chance to intervene, he withdrew his Glock and fired a single round into Bolton’s skull. He felt a tinge of satisfaction as he holstered.

  “Goodman?” Gary said. “But…”

  Elliot didn’t linger to discuss it, he was already on his way out the door when Gary caught up with him. “He’s behind this?”

  “Why does that surprise you?”

  “Because he’s been helping us.”

  “And? You’ve heard the term green on blue. This is no different.”

  Green on blue was a term used when Afghan soldiers attacked the U.S. Army. These were the same allied forces that were meant to be helping. Why? People could give any number of reasons why. In this case, it was obvious. Most locals had read the news about the crash two years ago and the accusations thrown at the department by Goodman and others.

  As soon as they were outside, Gary got on the radio broadcasting a message to the remaining officers and volunteers to be on the lookout for Foster Goodman.

  “You are to approach with caution. I rep
eat. Consider him armed and dangerous.”

  Maggie was a wreck. She felt terrible both physically and emotionally. She wished she hadn’t told Cole about Elliot but after witnessing his men kill Sara, she thought he’d do the same to her. Now she watched helplessly as they dragged all of Elliot’s supplies out of the bunker — bags of sugar, rice, salt, canned goods, beans, coffee, jerky, dried fruits, packaged meals like MREs, granola bars and trail mix along with medication, multivitamins and comfort foods. They’d worked their way through a lot in two weeks but there was ample remaining.

  Magnus acted like a supervisor telling them where to stack it. He had a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and one leg up on a picnic table.

  “That’s it, just put them at the back there, we’ll take them when we leave.”

  Sawyer held a firm grip on the back of her collar and would tap her cheek occasionally with the barrel of his gun just to let her know not to try anything. They hadn’t let her out of their sight since Keene. Tyron came over sweating and crouched down in front of her. “Once this is over, I’m going to finish what I started.” He wiped sweat from his brow and ran it across her lip. She spat in his face and in an instant he lashed out with a backhand. Her face jerked to the side, and she felt her skin sting.

  “Hey!” Magnus said pointing over at them. “There will be plenty of time for that later. Keep hauling that shit out.” Tyron wagged his finger in Maggie’s face and got real close.

  “Your ass is mine.”

  He walked off grinning and joined the others. The rest of them were like him, completely blind followers not questioning Magnus. She wiped blood from her lip as she remained in a kneeling position.

  “So are you like him?” Maggie asked.

  “Shut it.”

  “Well? Are you?”

  “You really should keep your mouth shut.”

  “Man, it must suck being someone else’s bitch,” she said to Sawyer.