Devil Dog: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (Out Of The Dark Book 1)

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Devil Dog: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (Out Of The Dark Book 1) Page 16

by Boyd Craven III


  “Jesus,” he said, looking up at the sound of my footfalls, “I thought I was going to piss myself.”

  He never saw the knife until he was holding the scarlet line that had been drawn across his throat. I eased the body down, letting the cigarette fall from his mouth into the growing pool of blood and kept him from thrashing and making a lot of noise, and his hands away from any weapons.

  “Sorry, friend,” I told him. “Just checking out the warehouse.”

  I patted his pockets and found a set of keys. I took them and stuffed them in my pocket and walked towards the side door he’d been waiting near. I checked it and it was unlocked. I pushed it open slowly, just enough to look in. I saw outlines of people moving and unloading boxes from pallets and loading up a pickup truck. The lights from the lanterns inside were bright, almost blinding to me, so I turned off the NVGs and pushed them up on my forehead and slid inside, closing the door.

  It took me at least a good minute to get my eyes adjusted, and I could see it was a truck similar to the body shape of the one I’d taken and had Jamie stash down the road. I smiled and looked around a bit. I could hear soft snores from one end, but most of the warehouse was bathed in a deep dark gloom. Unless the moonlight or a lantern was casting a glow, I was going to have to use the NVGs to see.

  I made my way towards the men working, using the deep shadows. Even though the lantern’s light was almost blindingly bright to me in the NVGs, the men’s night blindness would be worse than mine. I chanced a look over my shoulder and saw at least two dozen men sleeping on the floor. This was a staging area, I realized. It might not even be the main group. Despite that, there were pallets and pallets of bags and boxes. I couldn’t make them all out, but they looked like the burlap style feed bags you’d buy from the feed store for…

  Then it hit me. This was their food drop. Their main location, where they divvied up things. I would have to do what I’d come here to do and get out.

  “Hey man,” I heard someone yell.

  I thought they were talking to me so I spun, but one of the men who was stacking boxes and bags into the truck turned to answer.

  “Yeah?” he asked, his accent all Chicago with not a hint of foreign in it.

  “Get on the horn and get Sergei and Dimitri in here to help us unload, would ya? I hear the museum group got a bunch of new broads for us to break in before we send them out on the ship. I don’t want to wait, ya know?”

  I could make out the man’s smile despite the distance and the NVGs’ dislike of the light he was holding. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

  “Those two schmucks helping us, we’ll get this done quicker… and we can wake Manny’s ass up to go make the drop.”

  “On it,” he said, holding up a finger and getting a radio off his belt.

  I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me before, but the guys had working coms as well as NVGs, whereas the rest of the electronics around here were all fried. I had even used the NVGs without thinking about it, just taken it as a matter of fact. This gear was either hardened, which I doubted, or it had come from somewhere else. I listened as he tried calling for the men and chanced a glance back to where the sleeping men were. No movement.

  I pulled a grenade out of a pouch, pulled the pin and threw it as hard and as far as I could. I couldn’t track it in the blackness where the sleepers were, but I knew I’d overthrown them. Exactly what I’d wanted to do. I crouched right after the throw, next to a 55-gallon drum of something. The explosion came within heartbeats of it hitting and the screams of surprise, terror and pain filled the room. The men who were loading the truck waited half a heartbeat and then started rushing towards the commotion.

  I pulled on the chain to roll up the doors and I got it up about five feet high before one of the men running noticed something. I don’t know if it had been a draft of fresh air or the moonlight… but he turned and saw me silhouetted in the opening doorway. I waited until he spun, then pulled the KSG up and shot him in the chest. The flash of the gun was bright and overloaded them for half a second, but I was already running. I had just enough room to clear the top of the truck in the doorway, I hoped.

  Screams and shouts met me, and I pushed the NVGs up and pulled the pin of another grenade and threw it towards the loudest of the screams. It went off and for a moment, I could see the three figures that had been thrown from their feet. I felt the wind brush my cheek and then the sharp deafening crack of a bullet going past my head, so I rolled and came up in front of the truck. The semi had come in the left door, and the truck was in the central door that I’d opened, so I was pretty much screwed as gunfire erupted around me. I had more grenades, but I needed to not kill everyone. Still, gunfire pinged off the concrete floor every time I tried to poke my head out.

  Instead of going around, I hit the ground on my stomach and looked under. I could see men rolling on the ground and with a start, I realized that I’d shut out all sound. I listened harder, trying to pick out everything.

  “He’s in front. You two take the right, I’m on the left and we’ll…”

  “No way, my brother needs the medic, I have to— “

  “Don’t fucking argue,” the man who was out of sight said. “Now, you ready?”

  “Fucking dumb-ass mafia motherfuckers!” somebody behind them screamed. “Let him get me to the medic!”

  I pulled the pin on the grenade and prayed. I didn’t throw it, I slid it under the truck. For a horrifying moment, it slid off the passenger side rear tire on the undercarriage, but then it bounced off the side like a pinball. I closed my eyes, and when the explosion rocked the night, I was already on my feet with the shotgun primed and ready. One man was on his feet and I got a snapshot off as he was taking aim at me. It hit him in his gun arm and he dropped the H&K he’d been holding. I almost ripped the driver’s side door off the truck when I got in.

  I felt for the ignition, figuring that’s where the keys were… because I needed to get this heap moving before they filled it - and me - full of holes. No keys… I flipped down the visor… No keys…. In desperation, I pulled at the keys in my pocket. They hung up, and I yanked. My pocket tore as they came out and I frantically looked for anything that looked like an ignition key. Surely they had more than one set for everything, right? Right?!

  I jammed the first key in the ignition and the truck fired up. I ducked as the window behind me exploded and shards of glass sprayed inside the truck. I put the pedal down and let off the clutch, tearing out of there like my ass was on fire and my hair was catching. I felt several impacts from what had to be bullets hitting the bed, but nothing came through the cab.

  They ran after the truck, shooting and I screamed out the back window, “The price for the broads just went up!”

  15

  I drove most of the way towards the museum with the NVGs on before I slowed down enough to turn on the headlights and stow the goggles in my backpack. I had no idea if I was going in over-armed, but I wanted to be better safe than sorry. The way those guys had been armed, I should fit in… though I didn’t realize if I even knew how many guys made the drops. Ooops. Still… I was driving their truck.

  I made sure to drive slow as I neared the museum and hit the horn twice when I was a hundred yards away. Four men snapped awake and bolted to their feet. The guards had been halfway resting or napping and two of them rushed inside, while the other two held their hands over their eyes and stared at my headlights coming out of the gloom. I pulled up out front, next to their truck and killed the motor, leaving the headlights on.

  “Hey, man. You lost?” one of the uptown boys asked me, walking my way with a pistol in his hand.

  He was clean-shaven as was his partner, who was staying further back towards the museum's entrance.

  “No, making a delivery,” I said stepping out and holding my hands up.

  I didn’t know who he thought I was, but he lowered his gun.

  “We weren’t expecting you until the morning, and this is only
half of it.”

  That’s what I was counting on.

  “Yeah, well you know how Manny is when there’s new broads to be had,” I said with a fake grin, wanting to throw up at the words.

  “Yeah, that horny bastard can hardly wait. I think he jacks off every time he comes to do a pickup,” he said laughing. “I’m scared to even use the bathroom after him.”

  “Speaking of that, man…” I said, making a pained expression, lit by the afterglow of the headlights and I nodded my head towards the museum. “Can I use yours?”

  “Man, I don’t know about that. The working toilet is upstairs by the girls, now that the middle ones are fucked, and the boss is a little jumpy.”

  “Tell you what,” I said digging into my pocket. “Two .38 shells for the bathroom and a roll of toilet paper?”

  The man smirked and his partner laughed out loud.

  “Three shells and you can have this,” he said, pulling out a folded wad of paper.

  If lucky, it was maybe a quarter roll of paper, but it had showed me how dedicated the guys were to the gang. Just like that, I’d trumped their security by bribing them.

  “Where’s the other truck?” the man asked, me swiping the shells and handing me the wad.

  “It’s coming soon. Can one of you make sure the girls are ready to move when we get one of these unloaded? I really gotta go.”

  “Yeah, buddy. Joe will do that,” he made a dismissive gesture at me and looked at the building.

  “Elevator work?” I asked.

  “Better hold your cheeks, man,” he grinned and walked to the back to inspect the bags.

  I almost took off at a run but kept a pained expression on my face and the TP in my hand. Joe, the man who’d stayed at the steps, grinned at me and nodded before walking down to join the first guard. I walked in and a few men were lounging around by a desk, but none of them looked up in alarm.

  “You here to do the pickup?” one of them asked.

  “Yeah, but I gotta use the…” I held up the flattened roll of TP.

  “Oh yeah, top floor, use the stairs. First right. The ladies room still works. If one of the dumb cunts is in there, boot her ass out. Bunch of crybabies, this bunch is.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  I rushed the staircase to find a half-awake man in front of the doorway with a deer rifle held loosely in his hands. He was wearing tattered jeans and a flannel shirt, with his dark hair poking up in the back. Mentally, I named him Alfalfa.

  “I heard you guys were here. Some of the girls are in the shitter before we send them out. You want me to…”

  “Man, I don’t have time to wait,” I said, pushing my way in.

  “Heh, I’ve had days like that,” he said laughing. “Hope it all comes out ok for ya,” he said and busted up laughing like it was the funniest shit he’d ever heard.

  I just waved my hand backward and pushed my way in.

  Two of the women were sitting there, with several in stalls crying.

  “Oh God, please?!” A young blonde woman who was wearing the stained remains of white capris and a black bra wailed, “I’ve already had a turn tonight and I’m sore.”

  Her pleas were met and agreed on and somebody in the stall sobbed louder.

  “Shut up, bitch,” I roared.

  They all flinched and I walked up to the one who’d spoken to me and got close. I heard stall doors cracking open and I pulled my .22 out of my waistband and held it out to the woman.

  “Listen,” I said softly. “I’m one of the good guys, and I’m sorry I scared you. In a couple of minutes, maybe ten, there’s going to be a lot of gunfire. I’m here to get you out,” I said, pushing the gun at her, handle first.

  She shrank away, but a woman in her mid-thirties with dark hair and no clothing other than a pair of panties walked up and took the gun. I tried not to stare at her near nude form, but she had burn marks from what had to have been cigarettes, and bruising up and down the side of her body where she’d been beaten. Her black or brown hair had been chopped with what looked like a knife, and the lantern in the bathroom did little to hide the badly healed scar that ran down the side of her right cheek. She held the gun up at eye level with me.

  “Say that again,” she said.

  I could have taken the gun, but I had given it to them as a sign of trust. Also, it was the only one without a round in the chamber. Wile E Coyote… super genius.

  “I’ve set these guys up. There’s going to be a gunfight and soon. When the men up here rush down to reinforce the men outside, we can all escape,” I said trying not to talk too loudly, but the crying had stopped and two more women joined the group that was standing before me.

  “You’re a liar,” the woman with my gun said, her breasts rising and falling as her breathing quickened in a fight or flight response.

  “No, I’m not. I’m truly sorry that I didn’t come back here sooner. I knew about these guys and— “

  “You’re the Devil Dog,” Mary said, stepping in front of me.

  My heart caught. Her long red hair was matted and she had a large bruise that covered half of her face. She wore a man’s button up shirt and was trying to pull it closed to hide her nude form underneath it.

  “I’m…”

  “Hey, don’t be like Manny,” the guard outside the door said laughing. “Or if you are, let me know and I’ll join you.”

  “I’m good, almost done,” I shouted.

  “Who’s the devil dog?” the woman said, closing the distance so the pistol was almost touching my eyeball.

  I hesitated. That was me, but Mary said… I blinked. It wasn’t my ex-wife Mary, though it looked a lot like her. Dammit, I didn’t need this. I had to be frosty and… the click of the gun hitting an empty chamber surprised me. She tried pulling it again and then started fumbling with it. I grabbed it out of her hands and stepped back, wracking the slide and putting my hands up.

  “The Devil Dog is the dude who keeps hitting the gangs. He steals the girls and kids,” the blonde woman said.

  “Yeah, he sets them free,” the redhead said.

  “Is that so?” the one woman asked, the one who’d had the gun before - the one who’d just tried to kill me.

  She advanced and I could see the fire in her eyes. The anger, the hatred, the humiliation. Despite my having a ton of gear and guns, she was in full beast mode and I had to put her at ease and diffuse the situation.

  “Yeah, I’m here to help. If you ladies don’t want it, I’m going to leave when the shooting starts. Just… go tell the rest to be ready to move.”

  The woman's eyes flickered with something I couldn’t make out in the dim light and she let out a big shuddering breath and her arms and hands started to shake.

  “Oh god, you’re for real,” she said.

  “Yes,” I admitted. “I am. I need you to get the others ready to go. I expect them to come at any time.”

  “Who to come?” the redhead asked, letting go of the front of the shirt and stepping close to me.

  “The men they were selling you to. They aren’t coming for a pickup this time…”

  “How do we get out? The stairs are covered,” the blond asked.

  “Who’s going to carry the kids?” another asked.

  “Somebody go and get them ready,” I said, putting the .22 on safety and then handing the bold woman the gun. “Give that to somebody who can hide it,” I told her. “Just in case. Safety’s on. You all are stuck at the end of the hallway on the right?”

  “Yeah,” she said, handing the gun to the woman with the capris who stuffed it into a pocket. “Just make sure you aren’t lying to me.”

  The fire was back in her eyes and I nodded. They grabbed the lantern and left, some sobbing. With fear or relief, I didn’t know.

  “You ok in there?” a voice called out.

  “I think I had a bad burrito,” I called from within the stall.

  I wasn’t sitting, but I had my knife out again. The blood from earlier had dried
to a crust on some areas, and I could smell it. I was usually more careful about it, but I was winging this plan. Something my former superiors would have been horrified by.

  “Ok, boss just said to check on you. We got most of the truck unloaded, so it’ll be time to move the girls when the second truck comes.”

  “Oh yeah,” I said in the gloom. “I know Manny was excited about this shipment,” I said holding the knife out in case he came into the pitch black bathroom.

  “I hear ya there. He wouldn’t be sitting and shitting if he was here, he’d have one of those ladies bent over the…”

  I hit the flush button and the swirling water surprised me. I hadn’t seen any buckets up here for them to fill the old fashioned toilets, but somebody had apparently or they had running water.

  “Yeah yeah,” I said, “I’m coming— “

  A staccato burst of gunfire shattered the night's silence and somebody from below shouted an alarm.

  “Shit,” the guard muttered and the door slammed shut.

  I could hear running feet and I waited thirty seconds before I heard shouts and calls for reinforcement and gunfire from within and outside the museum. Time for me to exit stage left.

  The lanterns on the top floor were bright to my eyes at first glance, like coming out of my tunnels and into the daylight. I squinted and moved. I headed towards the women and saw two men rushing towards the stairwell behind me. I let them run past before turning and firing three shots off from the KSG. They fell, shot in the back right between the shoulder blades. They slumped to the floor, one of them not quite DOA. I put one more shot into him and then started walking, pulling shells from my right coat pocket and fumbling them into the odd spot in the back of the gun.

  I was careful to get four shells, two into each loading tube, when I caught sight of another man poking his head around to see who was coming. He was the one who was guarding the ladies.

 

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