Tara breathed heavily. “And Michael?”
Carl shook his head. “I couldn’t see. I didn’t get a detailed look. But at least it’s okay.”
“Well then, let’s go!” Tara rushed past Carl, but he quickly grabbed her by the shoulder.
“Wait! We don’t want to just burst out of the wall and freak them out,” Carl said. “Preston and Shyanne will go first. They know them already. Then they’ll introduce us. You never want to freak out a bunch of people in close quarters, and let’s face it, the two of us wouldn’t exactly blend in at a family picnic.”
Tara looked down at her camo attire and rifle. “Yeah.” Chuckling, she turned to Preston and Shyanne. “Okay you two, you heard the man.”
Preston pulled his shirt taut. “A mission I like. Diplomacy.” Then he smiled at Tara before approaching the drywall.
However, before Preston could pull the drywall aside, shouts suddenly rang out from behind the wall. Carl raced to catch Preston before he revealed himself and Shyanne. “Wait!” He approached the opening and quietly peered through.
Four muscled men with bad attitudes had stormed onto the floor, but from where, Carl couldn’t tell. One of them drew a knife and held it high, his raised arms exposing tattoos on each arm. “So, this is where you lambs hide,” he said. “Very clever. Very clever indeed. But in the end, nothing evades the keen nose of a wolf.”
“What’s going on?” Tara asked, but Carl quickly put a finger to his lips to cut her off. He pointed to the gap with his thumb and whispered, “Cyrus and his men are in there. They found them!”
“Holy shit!” Preston actually pushed past Carl to look through the gap. Tara circled around Carl to get a look for herself.
“That’s the guy who was outside with Cyrus,” Tara whispered.
“Yeah,” Carl said.
And with those two other newcomers, he had been proven right. Cyrus had picked up reinforcements. That other guy, probably Jason, seemed to be the true leader of this bunch. He was the one speaking, while the other men just stood off to the side with their knives and batons drawn. Even Cyrus kept his distance, pacing along the wall and not even giving Jason a look. Carl could tell Cyrus was a little unnerved by Jason.
Damn, if even Cyrus is spooked by this guy, he must be one bad customer, Carl thought.
“What’s going on?” Shyanne tugged at Carl’s pant leg.
Carl leaned down. “Ssssh. We need to keep it down. There are some bad men behind there.”
“There are?” Shyanne said with an alarmed squeal punctuating her sentence. Carl shushed her again. But the little girl was clearly rattled. “Are they going to hurt them?”
Carl turned around. “Not if we can help it,” he whispered, but right now he didn’t have a strong read on the situation. He turned back to the gap and watched carefully. By now Ron and Drake, two men who Carl did recognize, had stepped into view. They were looking around the room with big smiles on their faces.
“We really hit the mother lode on this, didn’t we?” Ron spun around, his arms stretched. “I mean, wow! Who knew all these people were hiding in here?”
“Great, great.” Drake then grabbed Ron by the shoulder. “Now zip it! Jason’s not finished talking.”
Ron turned, looked at Jason, and quickly drew back. “Sorry.”
“How the hell did they find them?” Preston whispered, his breath hot on Carl’s neck. Carl didn’t try to speculate as he continued his vigil. But if Cyrus and Jason had been in this store for the past hour or so, likely searching for the hideaway, it would explain why the activities of Carl and his companions did not attract anyone’s attention beyond Ilario and Whitney.
Jason, however, did not ignore Ron. “No, it was clever of you to check the elevator. I presume it was not dumb luck on your part.”
Ron chuckled while he shrugged his shoulders, as if trying not to admit that Jason might be right about that last sentence.
One of the survivors was brave enough to speak up. “What is this? Who are you and what do you want with us?” The man wore a buttoned shirt with a badge on it, the uniform of a mall security guard. A second man stood just behind him.
“That’s Palermo,” Preston said, “the guard. The guy behind him is Chad.”
Jason turned his face slowly toward him. “Who I am? That’s very simple. I am now your god.”
“I think what you are is a loon,” Palermo said. “If you want food, water, we’re happy to share those. But if you’re looking for trouble, then I suggest you take your friends and get out of here.”
“Is that so?” Jason took one step toward him. “You speak very boldly for a group that is not brandishing any firearms. Although I’m sure you think you can do some damage with that taser on your belt. Although, there are six of us.” Jason approached one step closer, the gap between them mostly erased. “And just one of you.”
Then Jason’s knife suddenly was sticking out of Palermo’s chest.
People around Jason shrieked. From behind the drywall, Tara clasped her hand over her mouth. Carl nearly exploded with a profanity. It all had been over so quickly that Carl thought Jason’s knife must have flown into Palermo’s chest, but no, he had seen it all happen. Jason did throw back his arm and plunge the blade into his victim. Palermo reacted, drawing out his taser, but he didn’t get the chance to activate it. He obviously did not expect Jason to move so quickly…or so lethally.
Trembling, Palermo dropped his taser. The guard then fell to his knees before slumping onto his chest. Jason swiftly ripped his knife free before Palermo tumbled over. He looked utterly unfazed by what he just had accomplished.
A man unmoved by killing. Carl felt his insides tighten.
“If he was your strongest, then your finest predator has just been bested by a superior animal.” Jason then walked toward the center of the room. People drew back or simply froze in place. Only Chad remained active, turning Palermo over in a vain hope that he still was alive.
“You are wasting your time,” Jason barked at him. “I pierced his lungs and heart with that blow. I did not intend for him to linger.” He turned his attention to Ron and Drake. “You two, dispose of the body. These people may meet their end, but I won’t let a foul-smelling corpse do the deed.”
Ron and Drake complied while Jason continued. “Don’t bother thinking of escape. My men have sealed the mall. No doors will open for you. You won’t be leaving unless I say so. You won’t be eating unless I say so. I should say you won’t breathe unless I allow it. And put aside any hope that someone will rescue you. I have seen the outside. Police cars are abandoned. The National Guard is nowhere to be found. Within these walls, I am God.”
Carl drew back. He couldn’t take it any longer. Tara and Preston likewise were stunned and disgusted. The only bright spot was that Shyanne had not witnessed any of Jason’s cruelty.
Carl walked away from the drywall. “Carl,” Tara whispered, “we have to do something.”
Chapter Seventeen
Carl pushed the tarp away to clear the path to Whitney, who had been sitting on the floor this whole time. “Alright. You need to come clean with me now on who you’ve been paling around with,” Carl said as he glowered over her. Even though he knew Whitney had suffered horribly at the hands of one of those men, Carl could not forget that Whitney also actively had helped Cyrus and Jason.
“Who is Jason Maltesta? How many guys does he have? What’s he planning to do?”
Whitney looked up at Carl briefly before turning away. “Look, I don’t know much about the asshole. Believe me. I just know…” She trembled. “He’s as scary as shit. When all the lights went out, this guy I knew, he said Jason worked with him at his business and that I had to get with him or I’d end up as lunch meat, because there’s no police gonna be around to help me or anyone.” She drew her legs closer toward her body.
“Now, how many guys he got? I don’t know. I didn’t meet them all. I know there’s Scott and John, but you nailed John, and I haven’t
seen Scott since Red over here nailed him with her gun. Mayfield, Kronish, it sounds like those two are with Jason over there. Ron and Drake, too. Maybe it’s just those six.”
“Do they have guns?” Carl quickly asked.
“Probably not. I saw Jason once blow away two cops who tried to stop him. They were, like, the only police who gave a damn after everything shut down. But I never saw him use a gun after that, or Cyrus, or anyone,” Whitney replied.
“They probably used up their ammo in the aftermath,” Tara said.
“No guns,” Carl said, “that means the odds are a little more even.” He looked directly at Tara’s gun.
“You want to go blast their asses?” Tara asked.
“But all those people!” Preston circled directly in front of Tara. “You handled that door lock great, but those men are going to run for cover. They may even use those people as human shields.”
“I know, but how are we going to draw them out?” Tara asked. “Maybe if we fire a few warning shots, they’ll scatter.”
“And the innocent people in there might do the same,” Carl replied. “They don’t know we’re on their side. Opening fire in there is out of the question.” He returned his attention to Whitney. “What is Jason up to? Just a good old-fashioned boot to the necks of the innocent?”
Whitney shook her head. “You got me. He does whatever he wants. He’s a freaking weirdo. People look at him and they think they’re looking at a demon or Satan or whatever. I only joined up because I didn’t want to get on his bad side.”
Carl sighed. “Yeah. I’ve been in places where people thought like that.”
Part of the problem in terrorist-ridden hellholes across the world was the intimidation factor. It didn’t take much for the Martyr’s Army and other terrorist groups to send the message to civilians that if you cooperated with the United States or a regime opposed to the insurgents, you or your family would pay the price. It had taken a lot of victories to convince people to reveal information regarding terrorist safe houses or to turn over the location of a pursued terrorist. Some people could not even settle for silence and would join the other side if it appeared to be the stronger one.
That’s what Jason was up to when he skewered Palermo. He was out to show he was the stronger beast.
“Okay, Whitney, thanks for the info.” Carl turned back to the drywall. “If you feel like making it official and switching teams, how about helping us take down that monster?”
“Wait, you want me to fight Jason and Cyrus?” Whitney chortled. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I don’t want to have anything to do with those bastards, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to fight them like Wonder Woman. You probably haven’t noticed, but I’m in pretty bad shape.”
“I know, and I feel terrible for what’s happened to you,” Carl said while lowering his voice. “I’m not asking you to go toe to toe with Jason or Cyrus. That’s my job. I want you to be part of our support. All three of us have weapons or fighting skills. That means we’re all needed for the fight ahead. I might still need someone to give us a hand doing something else. Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to leave you out of the fighting.”
Whitney bit her lower lip. “Jason…if you don’t stop him, he’ll go after anyone, and I mean anyone who pisses him off.”
“That’s why we’re not going to lose,” Carl said. “We just need an opening to get him and his men out of there. Then we’ll take it from there.”
Whitney looked up at Carl. “Okay, if you say you can take him down, then what’s the plan?”
“Jason’s a control freak. Sort of like a cult leader mixed with a psycho killer. If he sees somebody who’s not under his thumb, he’s got to bring them to heel or kill them. Now, he sent two of his guys to dump Palermo’s body. That lowers the number to four. We’ve got to act now before they return.” Carl stared at the small gap in the drywall. “They don’t know about this space. If one of us could lure them in here, we might have the element of surprise.”
“Yeah.” Tara tugged on the hanging tarp. “Remember when we sacked those other two guys? We can do it again.”
Carl nodded. “It may work but there’s still four men. We may not nail all of them. Plus, one or two of them might backtrack into the store. There’s too many people in there. One of them could be grabbed as a hostage.”
It didn’t take long, but Carl finally hatched a strategy to draw out Jason and his men while keeping the survivors safe. Once Carl discovered a pile of construction debris, mostly discarded drywall and wooden boards, he had the crucial piece of his puzzle. That just left one more issue.
Carl just had finished standing the debris up against the wall near the gap in the drywall. The voices beyond the drywall had been reduced to moaning and whispers, with Jason occasionally demanding the survivors’ supplies be accounted for, asking for food, water or any weapons they might have. Carl tried to ignore the situation so he could put together the final piece of his plan.
“Alright.” Carl met up with everyone standing near the tarp that separated the storefront from the mall.
“We’re all ready. Now it’s up to me. Tara and Preston each have guns, but I don’t want you to open fire when they come out. They hear gunshots and they may turn tail back to the survivors. Besides, if we can take any of them out without firing a shot, then we’re gold. We don’t know if we have to deal with Ron or Drake. If we can conserve ammo, then we should do it.”
“Okay, what about getting Jason and everyone out here?” Whitney asked.
“That’s up to me. Like I said, I don’t have a gun. But I can run fast. We’ll open that drywall up enough for me to run through. Jason and the others will follow. Then, you’ll tip that debris over and block the way back. Then we throw the party.”
Whitney grimaced. “You think I can do it? I mean that’s stuff’s pretty heavy.”
“Don’t worry. You just push it over. I positioned it so any adult can do it. Once Jason gets through, that’s when you let it drop.”
Whitney grasped both of her shoulders. “I’m cool with helping, really. But I’m going to be very close to that opening when Jason and Cyrus come through. I really don’t want them to see me.”
Carl’s arm twitched. He could tell Whitney had deep reservations about this, and although he sympathized, he couldn’t spend any more time trying to convince her. Ron and Drake could be back soon, and any increase in Jason’s numbers could mean the difference between life and death.
“It’ll all be over with in a flash. Once you drop the wreckage, you can run. I’ll handle Jason, and Tara and Preston will take out Cyrus and the other two goons,” Carl said as calmly as before.
“I can do it.”
Everyone turned to Shyanne, who was standing next to Carl. The little girl had been very quiet up until now, though it seemed she was listening well to their conversation. “You can do what, baby?” Tara asked.
“I’ll go in there and tag Jason to come after us,” she replied.
“Shyanne, absolutely not.” A mix of shock and admiration rose to Carl’s cheeks. Although he was flattered Shyanne wanted to help, and hell, he had brought her along partially so she could offer a hand when needed. Yet, he was not going to put her directly in the path of the lion. “Those men are vicious, evil killers,” he said.
“So? You’re going to stop them, right?” she asked, “I can run really fast. They won’t catch me.”
“Yes, we are going to stop them, but that doesn’t mean you have to put yourself in harm’s way,” Carl said. “If any of them grab you, they can use you as a hostage. We can’t stop them if they’re going to hurt you.”
“But I told you, I can run really fast!” Shyanne pointed to the drywall gap. “I can make it back here!”
Tara cringed. “Sweetie…”
“You wanted me to come. You said I can choose. I want this!” Shyanne protested.
Preston folded his arms. “Carl, you have to lay down the law here. There’s no way we can throw a chil
d to the wolves like this.”
“No shit,” Whitney added.
Carl agreed, but the worst part was that he was seeing the potential in Shyanne’s plan, and he desperately didn’t want to do so. Shyanne acting as bait freed up Carl to lay in wait with the construction wreckage and allow an uncomfortable Whitney to pass on the task. Better yet, he could jump Jason as soon as he crossed the gap. And as for Shyanne, being smaller than a human adult might allow her to escape more easily than Carl. It was too perfect to pass up. But to risk a small girl? It went against everything he believed as a soldier and as a man.
“Forget it,” Carl said, though reluctantly. “There’s no way in hell I can let you go in there. I’m the soldier. I’m the adult. All of this is on me, and partly, on the rest of us too. If we must ask children to start fighting, then we’ve already lost.”
“But I have to fight!” Shyanne stomped her foot.
“I don’t want you to die, Mister Carl! I lost Daddy. I don’t want to lose you or Miss Tara or Mister Preston.” She turned around and pointed to Whitney. “I don’t even want Miss Whitney to die.”
Whitney pursed her lips in such a way that nobody knew if she was holding back laughter or anger. “Um, thanks,” she uttered. Tara, however, had to press on her lips to block a snicker.
Shyanne turned back to Carl. “I promise I won’t get caught! I can do it! I can run and slide and everything!”
Whitney shuffled a bit on her feet. “Hey, look, I don’t want to come off as a chickenshit, but seriously, I’ve seen kids run and jump and they’re like little apes. And it’s not like they can snatch her very quickly. I mean, she’s a runt.”
“Hey!” Shyanne shouted.
“Sorry, but it’s true,” Whitney replied. “And that’s good. All those guys in there are, like, six feet.”
Carl wanted to shut down this conversation because he rapidly was being sucked into agreeing. Shyanne stepping in as bait would boost their odds. He couldn’t deny it. He turned to Tara and Preston, hoping their glances would feed him the determination to refuse Shyanne. Yet, he only read the same discord in their eyes that he felt.
Braving The Risk Page 13