by Hunt, James
Tears started to form in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as Margaret Simmons screamed that it was Nancy’s fault her father had died. It was her fault that she couldn’t carry her father through the woods. It was her fault that all of this had happened.
Her fault. Her fault. Her fault.
Without her even realizing it, Nancy brought the tip of the knife to her wrist and applied pressure. She shut her eyes, feeling the pain in her wrist as her mother’s voice grew louder and louder. Something trickled down her wrist. It was warm and cold at the same time.
Nancy kept her eyes closed as she pressed down harder, and she whimpered from the pain. But her mother’s voice continued to scream, telling her that she needed to do it to end the pain.
“What are you doing?”
Nancy opened her eyes and immediately removed the tip of the knife from her wrist. She looked over and saw Tommy Riker looking at her with curiosity.
Nancy immediately hid the knife by her side, and clamped her hand over the wound on her wrist, hiding the blood that was spilling over her wrist and dripping onto the grass. She moved her body to help block the boy from seeing.
“Nothing,” Nancy said. “Go back to your parents and keep playing, okay?”
The boy frowned, a single crease forming between his eyes, and Nancy briefly saw a very small version of Mr. Riker staring back at her.
“Go,” Nancy said, her voice high in pitch as she struggled to keep it together. “Everything is fine, okay?”
Tommy lingered a little while longer but finally turned away. Nancy peered around the trunk of the tree to make sure the boy had gone. When she was certain she was alone again, Nancy stared at the knife and the blood on her hands.
“Shit,” Nancy said. “Shit, shit, shit!” She quickly removed her shirt and placed it over the wound, stopping the bleeding.
What was she thinking?
Nancy quickly peered at the self-inflicted wound. It didn’t look too deep, but it stung something terrible. She quickly placed her shirt back over the wound and then looked at the knife. Her blood still stained the cold steel.
It was much darker and richer than she had expected it to look. It made her wonder if she was stronger than she gave herself credit for, and she realized that what rested beneath the surface could be deeper than she thought.
But the most important thought that she walked away with was the fact that she wanted to live. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to see what happened next because she believed she was strong enough to survive. It had just taken her to the cusp of death to figure it out.
THE TIMERS on the explosives looked like they were all set to the same time, which meant Ben and Marty had less than twelve minutes to disarm over twenty bricks placed around the facility.
Ben walked Marty through the first brick of explosive very carefully, but Marty had his eyes squinted shut nearly the entire time, and Ben had to do the process all over again for him on the second brick.
“It’s all about the touch,” Ben said. “You don’t want to manhandle it. And you want to do everything at half speed. If you think you’re going slow, go slower. That’s the number one rule.”
Marty watched, his body tensing as Ben removed the brick from the wall. He didn’t realize it, but he was holding his breath.
Ben carefully removed the detonator pins from the brick, separated the two, and then set them on the floor.
“And that’s how you do it,” Ben said, relieved it had gone well, his body breaking out in a thick sheen of sweat.
“So, if we don’t blow up, that means we did it right,” Marty said.
“Yeah,” Ben replied. “I’d say that’s a good marker for success.”
Ben and Marty consulted the blueprints, working quickly, but making sure they were still careful with the explosives. Pending on the age of the plastic explosive, and how it was made, the materials could be highly volatile.
And while Ben worked to remove the bombs and save his family, he couldn’t help but think about the terrorist tied up in the corner.
It baffled Ben to try to understand why anyone would revert to such violent cowardice. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, no matter how hard he tried. But what was even more frightening than the man’s intention was his demeanor.
Ben had expected a completely insane man. But what he found instead was an individual who possessed all of their faculties.
Ben knew there was more going on than the terrorist was letting on, but he was determined to get to the truth. His family’s survival depended on it.
But Ben knew removing the explosives was only a temporary fix. He was simply treating the symptom and not the disease. But Ben had no idea how far or how wide that disease had spread.
The unknown enemy was well trained, and while Ben had some tactical training, he was by no means a soldier. He was just a man who wanted to keep his family alive and had taken a few weekend courses run by former members of the military.
And any help that might find them was months, maybe even years away. If the EMP had disrupted the entire country, then it would have caused unprecedented damage on a scale never before seen in the country’s history. Or any country really.
It was impossible to know when, or if, life would ever return to normal, but Ben held onto the single idea that had gotten him through some of the most challenging moments of his life. All he could control was how the events affected him. And the greatest weapon Ben had in his arsenal was not his skill set, but his iron will.
If Ben never gave up, then he could never lose. It was that simple. It was that easy. He simply had to outlast the enemy, and he had to ensure that his family did the same.
Marty finished taking down one of the plastic explosives and then brought it over to the pile where they had collected the others, and then he checked the blueprint, crossing off the one he had taken down, and searched for the next one.
“Hey,” Ben said. “Thanks for coming?”
Marty looked up from the blueprints. “Just following orders.”
Ben reached for the next brick of C-4. “Well, technically, you’re still on the clock, so I see your point.”
Marty laughed. “I can’t say that I’m looking forward to spending more time back at the training facility. Living there for the three months of fire school was more than enough for my taste.”
“What’s wrong, you don’t like sleeping on cardboard?” Ben asked.
“At least we don’t have to worry about the drill sergeant waking us up at the crack of dawn to go run the hills until we vomit,” Marty said.
“No, we but we might have to chase our kids up and down the hills,” Ben replied.
“Still not as bad,” Marty said.
Ben set the latest brick down and then added it to the growing pile of plastic explosives and detonators in the bag, making sure he kept both separated. He turned to Marty, his tone shifting.
“We’ll need to start thinking long term, Marty,” Ben said. “About the facility. We’re going to be there a while. Hell, it could be permanent.”
Marty sighed and then placed his latest brick into the bag. “I was worried you were going to say that.” He placed his fists on his hips, head bowed. “You really don’t think anyone is going to come looking for us? What about the military? National Guard? Hell, the CIA has been listening to our conversations for years, right?”
“I think any plans we make shouldn’t involve help from the outside world,” Ben answered. “We’re going to be on our own. And that means we’ll need to make sure we have food, water, and ammunition.”
Marty clung to that last little word. “Ammunition?”
“Resources are going to scarce,” Ben answered. “And people are going to be desperate.”
Marty raised his head. “You think we’ll have to fight people?”
“I think it will be inevitable,” Ben answered.
“Christ,” Marty said. “You’d think that with these psychos running around, that’d be enough cra
zy for people to fight instead of squabbling amongst ourselves.”
“People like to make it difficult,” Ben said. “We’ve seen that first hand.”
Marty nodded.
The radio on Ben’s hip blew static, and both men paused. Ben reached for the radio, unable to hear Jeff’s transmission.
“Say again, Jeff,” Ben said.
“I’ve got bad guys coming our way,” Jeff said.
“How many?” Ben asked.
“I’m counting at least a dozen,” Jeff said. “Shit, Ben, I can’t hold off this many. What do I do?”
Ben hesitated. He didn’t imagine so many would come. But if this were the last stop on their mission in the area, then it would make sense for them to ensure the job was finished.
“Ben?” Jeff asked, his tone growing more panicked. “They’re getting closer. What do I do?”
Ben knew they wouldn’t be able to engage that many in a fight. They would be overwhelmed. But the only way to save everyone at the facility was to stop the enemy here. The only question was, how?
Ben bowed his head to think, and saw the bag of plastic explosives and detonators. He had an idea. He pressed down on the talkie. “Jeff, make sure they see you. Shoot at them as if there are five other guys in the room with you.”
“What?” Jeff asked.
“Make a big show of it,” Ben answered. “I want you to draw them in, and then have them follow you.”
“You’re joking, right?” Jeff asked. “Please, tell me your joking.”
“Just make sure you get all of them to follow you,” Ben answered. “We’ll have a surprise waiting for them when they arrive.”
Jeff still sounded hesitant, but he agreed to the plan.
“Ben, how the hell are we supposed to beat them?” Marty asked. “We’re not soldiers. We don’t have machine guns. Ben!”
Ben spun around and grabbed Marty’s shoulder. “We need to wipe them out. It’s the only way our families will be safe. And we also need to make sure that they don’t blow up the dam. I think we can kill two birds with one stone.” He let Marty go. “But we need to hurry. There are still five more bombs we need to disarm. Grab our prisoner. We need to get moving.”
Marty remained dumbfounded, but he eventually did what Ben had asked.
“Take him to the other side of the dam,” Ben said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Marty was rarely serious, so when Ben saw the expression on his friend’s face, he knew the man was worried. “Don’t get yourself killed. We need you, Ben.”
“I don’t plan on it,” Ben said.
Ben returned to work on the plastic explosives while Marty disappeared with their prisoner. He knew he needed to work quickly, and he hoped that Jeff would be able to pull off drawing the enemy closer.
JEFF WASN’T sure what he had expected when the power had gone out last night, but of all the scenarios he had imagined, none of them placed him here and now. He kept expecting to wake up from the nightmare, but instead, a dozen armed men continued to march toward him.
Each of them carried an assault rifle, and Jeff figured most of them had some sort of training. More than once, Jeff considered sprinting away from the danger, leaving Ben and Marty to deal with the aftermath. But each time the thought entered his mind, he found the courage to push it away.
Because in the end, it didn’t matter what he thought, it mattered how he reacted to the situation. And Jeff knew that if Ben believed this was how they saved their families, then this was the best way to do it.
Jeff positioned himself by the door with his rifle. He couldn’t tell whether or not the enemy marching toward him had spied him or not. They obviously believed someone was here besides their man trying to blow up the dam.
“Make it look like there are five guys,” Jeff said, muttering under his breath. “Just keep the bolts strapped tight for a little while. You’ve got this.”
Jeff peered through the scope, his body flushed with heat and slick with sweat. His heart skipped a beat as he brought the first terrorist into his crosshairs. And while Jeff understood that these people were monsters who had destroyed their homes, he struggled to squeeze the trigger.
Jeff had never killed anyone before. He’d only ever been in one fight his entire life, and that was back in middle school. He had become a firefighter to save people. It was his job to preserve life, not to end it.
But the alternative meant his death and the death of his family.
Jeff pulled the trigger.
The bullet struck the target’s chest, knocking him backward, and alerting the other men to Jeff’s presence. They immediately scattered to the trees on either side of the road. They fired a few random gunshots, but it was more for show than accuracy.
Jeff quickly moved from the door to the window, punching out the glass with the end of his rifle and then took aim for his next target. He found another man exposed in the woods, and he lined up his shot, but a cluster of retaliatory gunfire caused him to duck.
A bullet struck the concrete walls and broke away what remained of the glass, which showered on Jeff’s head. But he remembered what Ben had told him, knowing that he needed to make it look like there was more of him inside.
“Let’s go,” Jeff said.
Jeff rolled back to the door and squeezed off three more rounds before he moved to the next window. He shot four more rounds, then moved back to the door. He repeated the process until his magazine emptied, and he needed to reload.
Jeff peered outside during the reload and saw the enemy drawing closer. He fired a few more rounds for good measure, trying to hit anything, but he came up short. But his assault seemed to have done the trick of pulling the enemy toward him. He just hoped Ben was ready for the shitstorm coming his way.
BEN MOVED QUICKLY, but he didn’t sacrifice the quality and measure of his work. One wrong move and the C-4 would blow him away. Two bricks remained, and he had five minutes to get to them.
Ben picked up the lantern the terrorist had been using to help him work and then moved on to the next location. He was nearly on the opposite side of the turbine room from where he started. He hadn’t been able to hear any gunshots because of the thick layer of concrete between him and the surface, so he had no idea how Jeff was doing.
“Ben!” Jeff’s voice crackled over the radio.
Ben quickly reached for the radio. “I’m here.”
“I’m heading your way!” Jeff sounded out of breath. “I hope you’re—” Gunshots blocked out his voice. “There’s a lo—” More gunshots.
Ben squeezed the radio in frustration. “Jeff? I didn’t catch that—” But then he heard the faint pop of gunfire, not from the radio, but the tunnels leading into the turbine room. They were close.
Ben moved forward, taking the lantern with him. He found the next brick, and carefully began removing the detonator pins. The timer was down to three minutes.
The gunfire grew louder, and by the time Ben finished with the brick, it had reached the turbine room. Bullets ricocheted off the metal, silencing the shouts of everyone involved in the chase.
Ben hoped Jeff would be able to keep them coming after him, and he quickly moved onto the final brick of explosive.
The gunfire was deafening now that the enemy was closer, and Ben couldn’t stop himself from flinching with every thundering shot.
Sweat dripped into his eye, and he quickly swiped it away before it burned his pupils. He couldn’t see the timer anymore, it was too dark, and his eyes strained from the work. But he never broke his stride or his process as he carefully removed the rest of the detonators.
Finished, Ben picked the timer from the device and then watched the final seconds tick down. He breathed relief, but he wasn’t able to rest on his laurels for long.
The fight had neared the tunnels, and from the light, Ben saw Jeff reach the interior.
“Jeff!” Ben shouted.
Jeff turned and saw him, waving his arm.
For a moment, Ben thought
they might be able to pull this off. He thought that they might be able to bring all of the bad guys down. But then he watched the bullet that sliced through the back of Jeff’s skull and he dropped to the floor.
“No!” Ben cried out and sprinted to his friend, but he didn’t make it close enough to grab the body before the terrorists appeared.
Angered, Ben fired, shooting wildly at the enemy below him. But he couldn’t sit idle for long. Ben retreated, grabbing the explosives on the way, and finished the job that Jeff started.
Ben sprinted blindly up the stairs, slamming into walls and tripping up steps on his hasty retreat and the pitch-black darkness. He continued to fire behind him, making sure the enemy was following the bread crumbs he left behind.
Ben finally saw light above him, and he knew he was close. But he wasn’t sure how much time he would have to plant the devices.
Exhausted from the trip up, Ben worked quickly when he reached the other access building. He stuck the bricks of C-4 on walls and around the door. He wasn’t able to stick all of them, so he planted the rest in the center of the room, and then set the timer for thirty seconds.
Ben sprinted out of the building just as the enemy reached the top of the stairs. Ben found cover in the tree line and then turned to watch his plan unfold.
The terrorist bottlenecked at the door, and then one of them noticed the explosives and they started to scatter, but they didn’t get very far.
The C-4 exploded, and the entire building erupted in smoke and concrete. Anyone who wasn’t killed by the blast was buried under the rubble.
It had worked.
Ben stood, exhausted, and then found Marty, who hugged him. But then the realization that Jeff was gone struck him, and he collapsed to his knees.
In less than a day, Ben had widowed two women.
24
I t was afternoon by the time Ben, Marty, and their prisoner returned to the fire training station. Ben had been dreading their return. But he couldn’t avoid Jeff’s wife, and the moment she realized Jeff wasn’t with them, she collapsed in tears.