by Joshua Guess
“So chemical warfare is out,” Laura said.
The gears in Kell's head were spinning. “Not gas, no. If they were living in a building it might work. But there are a lot of other possibilities. I can make thermite, though I don't know how well only the three of us could utilize it. The best thing would be something like that, a way to start a fire quickly and in a controlled way so it doesn't spread.”
“Because fire will make them panic,” Laura added.
“Yes. If we could make it look like an accident for long enough to cause some real confusion, we might be able to hit them with something else while they're distracted.”
Laura arched an eyebrow. “You're being supremely vague.”
“Sorry, I'm kind of thinking out loud here. We need to get a wider view of the area. Think we can swing up the hill? I want to go around wide and see what's above their camp.”
“Sure.”
They spent two hours moving through the environs near the camp. There wasn't much to be found in the way of inspiration; the town below was picked clean, and above there was only woodland for several miles aside from a small mill which looked to have been abandoned before light bulbs became vogue.
Laura did note, however, that the area above the camp was their best approach if surprise was the goal. Though the land wasn't sharply inclined, the trees thickened quickly.
“If we're going to do this, it needs to be soon,” Laura said as they drove home.
“I know.”
“Which means if you're going to have a flash of brilliance, now is pretty much the time,” she added gently.
“I know that, too. Truth is, I think no matter what we're going to do, we need more people. It's possible we might be able to kill every one of them. Hell, it would be easier to do that. But if we want to rescue hostages, it's going to require more people.”
“If we can find people to help that we can rely on,” Laura said.
Irritated, Kell said, “I'm open to suggestions.”
“I've got ideas, but...”
“What?” Kell asked when she trailed off.
Her face fell. “But you're right. We can't do this alone.”
“Then tomorrow you'll head into town and see if the higher ups in North Jackson will lend us a hand. Kate can go talk to the families close to us.”
“Okay,” Laura said. “What will you be doing?”
His face hardened. “I'll be watching Ben. And doing some research. If we're doing this, we'll need every advantage.”
Thirty-six hours later, Kell sat in the crowd as Kate explained in great detail—for the second time—exactly what the plan was.
Not that the crowd was especially large; despite Laura's good karma with the leadership in North Jackson, they were unwilling to part with soldiers to combat the marauders. On a certain level Kell understood the math. Risking the lives of thirty or forty fighting men and women to rescue one or two was dangerous. Not just a matter of numbers, either, but as Laura had explained it was also one of strategy.
The more people moving toward the marauder camp, the more chance they would be seen.
Still, it was a bitter pill to swallow, especially for those living outside the protection of the walls. Spread out as they were, most families and groups lacking electricity and communications, there was a common thread of fear at learning just how cut off each homestead was.
Kate had done a masterful job playing on that fear. It bothered him a little to know how easily Kate could manipulate others, how willing she was to compromise her own integrity to achieve a goal.
It had netted them nine able-bodied adults, though, and Kell wasn't going to jeopardize that gain by opening his mouth. Which, as he thought about it, said something about him.
In what felt like no time at all, the meeting was over. The nine people joining them would be split among Kate and Laura in two groups. As everyone readied their gear, Kate walked over to him.
“Are you nervous?” she asked in a low voice.
Shrugging, he snapped his vests and harness on. “Not really. Not for myself, anyway. I'm more worried about the captives than I am myself.”
She smiled crookedly at him. “That's kind of a theme with you.”
He forced a smile in return, but it was weak. “I don't want to make a habit of it.”
Kate's eyes raked over him. “Something's wrong. What is it?”
Kell sighed. “It's just...as bad as this is, it's a distraction. We've finally started making headway on our project,” he said, careful to avoid mentioning the lab, “but now we're heading off to play hero.”
Kate tried to argue, but he put his hands up. “Look, I said I wanted to help, and I do. I really do. But even you and Laura have to admit this is getting in the way of the work. And it's not so much this particular situation, but realizing that these kinds of things are going to keep happening. Think about it, Kate. How many groups of marauders are out there? How many people are killed or taken by them? Do we risk our lives every time we hear about it?”
“You're saying at some point we'll have to ignore the people being hurt,” she said, sadness in her eyes.
“Yes, I am. I don't like the reality of it any more than you do, but there it is. How much more luck do I have in me? Do you want to risk my life constantly, or your own? You know what I'm working to achieve. But we're risking it all today.”
Kell put a hand on her shoulder. He rarely touched her, preferring to let her lead. She flinched, the barest possible movement. “Kate, we can't spend the rest of our lives doing this. We aren't heroes. We can be shot and killed. This is not a movie. Here, in the real world, people die.”
Coldly, she met his eyes. “In the real world, worse things happen to them, too.”
It was Kell's turn to flinch. “I know. That's why we're doing this. But it's too risky to keep up forever.”
“Let's just get this done. We can discuss it later,” she said, and walked away.
In short order the two groups left for their positions. Kell set his watch with Laura's before she left, then to kill time he gave Ben a final check.
The young man was chained to the same support in the basement, though now only by one hand. He rose from his pallet on the floor as Kell came into the room, carefully avoiding knocking over the camp toilet and food tray crammed into the small area.
“I'll be leaving soon,” Kell said. “You'll be alone here.”
Several days of imprisonment hadn't done much for Ben's attitude. The fear was still obvious, but after seeing he wouldn't be killed outright, a note of resentment and anger joined it.
“What happens to me if none of you come back?” Ben asked angrily.
Calmly, Kell met his eyes. “You'll die. No one knows you're here. If none of us return, you'll probably dehydrate in a few days. Would you like me to explain in great detail how that will work?”
Mollified, Ben shook his head. “No. No, sorry.”
Kell stared at him for a few seconds just to drive home the point, then moved into his lab to retrieve the last pieces he would need.
“If you're lucky,” Kell said as he walked away, “I'll be back this afternoon, and you might get to leave here.”
Terrified, Ben said, “If I'm lucky I might get to leave?”
“Yeah,” Kell replied. “If you're unlucky, Kate will be the only one of us coming back. At least if I decide to kill you, it would be over quick.”
Leaving the frightened man behind, Kell climbed the steps and left the house. It was time to go to work.
It took the marauders a little longer to notice Kell puttering around the town below than he would have liked, but in the end a small detachment did make their way toward him. Feigning ignorance, he didn't stop his slow sweep through the town for a few minutes, and then only because the two vehicles that descended from the sheltered camp blocked him in.
“Hey, fellas, no need for all that,” Kell said as the marauders exited their trucks with weapons drawn. “Not planning on being any troub
le, you know. Just looking around for anything useful.”
A tall man with rusty hair stepped forward. “This is our town, man. You might want to turn around and go on somewhere else.”
Oblivious to the threatening tone, Kell grinned. “I'll be happy to, but surely you fellas don't want to rush me off before we get a chance to do some trading, do you? That's how I get along, you see. I find things and trade them for food and gas and the like.”
Greed lit Rusty's eyes. “Oh, yeah? What kind of stuff you got?”
“Well, now,” Kell said, having fun slipping into the character he'd created. “That's what I like to hear. I've got a bit of booze back here,” he said, slapping the side of the truck below the camper top on it. “Few cartons of cigarettes, and some necessities like shampoo, soap, all kinds of things. We can hash it out right here, if you like. I don't mind telling you I'm a little hard up for food at the moment. I'd be happy to cut you a fine deal.”
Rusty grinned. “I can't make that call myself. Let's head on up to the camp and see what the boss says.”
Kell nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Lead the way.”
The trip was brief, and Kell pretended not to notice the flat, hungry stares of the men standing around to greet them as they arrived at the camp. He unfolded himself from the cab of the truck once more, this time with his hands nestled in the pockets of his heavy winter coat for warmth.
Hoping he struck a sufficiently unimposing figure, Kell smiled at the grim-faced men around him.
From the information Ben gave him, Kell knew the leader of the group instantly. Most of the marauders were younger men. Lucas, their leader, was not.
Even if Kell hadn't been told, Lucas would have stood out as someone important. The man walked with confidence, control. There was an air about him that demanded attention and respect. He wasn't large, checking in at just shy of six feet, but even through the layers Kell could see the whipcord leanness of him, the sense of strength coiled up and waiting to explode.
His hair was snowy white, wreathing a face carrying the lines of a heavy weight of years and worry. Vivid gray eyes shone like lamps from a face that was tan even in the dead of winter.
Rusty moved forward to speak with Lucas. Kell waited patiently by the truck.
After low, quick exchange, Lucas gave Rusty a pat on the shoulder and moved toward Kell.
“Hello,” he said, extending a hand. Kell shook it. “I'm Lucas. I hear you've got some goods to trade.”
“I'm Steve,” Kell said. “And yeah, I've got a bit to unload if the price is right. Though I have to admit, I'm a little worried about the way these fellas are staring at me.”
“Them?” Lucas said with a dismissive wave. “They're just overly cautious. We've had trouble with people trying to rob us before.”
Trying not to choke on the hypocrisy of the man's statement, Kell smiled. “I won't be any trouble if you won't.”
With a fatherly smile, Lucas leaned against the hood of the truck. “Well, son, that may be a problem.”
“Oh?” Kell said. “Why's that?”
“Seems to me you're ignorant of some math here. There are more than sixty of us, and one of you. Now, I'm willing to be generous and let you drive out of here today. We've got all the vehicles we need, and more gas than we can use. So let's just unload your stuff and you can be on your way.”
“How much food are you planning to pay me for all my gear?” Kell asked.
Lucas gaped at him for a moment, then laughed. “You can't be that stupid. I said we're taking it. I'm willing to let you leave if you don't give us any reason to become less than friendly about it.”
“Ah, I see,” Kell said. “Just making sure I understood the situation.”
“Good,” Lucas replied. “Give me the keys and we'll have this done in two shakes.”
Kell shook his head. “No, I'm afraid not.”
Pleasantness fell away from Lucas like a drift of snow from a sheet of ice. What was left behind was just as cold and blank. “I'm sorry? Do you want us to shoot you?”
All around the small courtyard, men raised weapons. A few indistinct calls from the back brought even more men from tents and campers. Kell tried to count them, but it was impossible.
Instead, he grinned. “You might want to wait a second to do that. See, there's some information you don't have that's pertinent here.”
“Such as?” Lucas asked.
“Not to come off as too Star Wars here, but this--” he said, taking his left hand slowly from his pocket, “--is a dead man's switch. I built it myself, so it's not very reliable. Even the smallest bump could set off the signal.”
Dozens of pairs of eyes tracked his hand as it rose. Lucas continued to stare at Kell, however. “And what does it activate?”
“So glad you asked,” Kell said, a manic note in his voice. “I may have been a little less than honest with you, Lucas. My truck doesn't have much in the way of trade goods in it. Actually, it's pretty much full of stuff you really wouldn't like to fuck with.”
His heart galloping in his chest, Kell leaned against the truck. “For example, some explosives. Not enough to kill you all, but anyone standing as close as you and I are will have a very, very bad day.”
Fury had slowly built on the old man's face. “Which would include you,” Lucas said.
“True,” Kell replied. “But I'm a gambling man. Thing is, the explosives are just a release mechanism for the gas I've got stored up in there. Six old propane tanks full of nasty shit. One is hydrogen fluoride. When it comes into contact with water, it becomes hydrofluoric acid. Hey, here's a fun fact: human beings are mostly water. I'm pretty sure you can do the math there, you being so good at it.”
“What do you want?” Lucas asked through gritted teeth.
Kell smiled at him again. “What, you don't want me to finish? Come on, I had this whole speech worked out. I practiced it in a mirror and everything.”
Several men edged back from the truck, but a few brave—or suicidal—souls moved in, ready to shoot at the slightest provocation.
“Stop, you fucking idiots,” Lucas growled at them.
Kell shot the men a wink. “Better listen to him. Even if you manage to trap my hand and keep me from letting go of this switch, a single bullet in one of those tanks and some of you are going to die horribly. I should mention that at least one of the tanks is full of another hydrogen compound gas, a personal favorite of mine: hydrogen sulfide.”
A few sharp gasps from the crowd followed his statement. “I see some of you know it. It's heavier than air, and at the right dosage it'll stop your breathing on the first inhalation. Not really sure how concentrated it would be out here in the open, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in finding out.”
Eyelids fluttering as he struggled to control his anger, Lucas took a deep breath. “So what do you want? Supplies? Weapons?”
“I want the prisoners,” Kell said quietly. “Release your captives and send them out with me, and I'll be on my way. This doesn't have to get ugly.”
A low murmur rose from the crowd, but Lucas raised a hand to quiet them. “Do what he says,” the old man ordered. “Bring them out.”
In a remarkably short time, six women were brought before him. They were terrified, but there was something else in those eyes. A desperate hope twined inextricably with molten fury. The men herding the prisoners forward led them toward Kell, who gestured for them to join him.
“Now, have your men move so these ladies can walk out of here,” Kell told Lucas, who gritted his teeth and gave the order.
At first the prisoners didn't move. Kell never took his eyes from the marauders, but his voice changed as he spoke to the women.
“Listen to me,” he said, gentle. “I know you're scared. You don't know what to think. You've got two choices. You can either stand here, thinking this is a trick, or you can walk and take a chance. If you head straight ahead you'll find a man sitting in a passenger van. His name is Dan Rickwal
der, and he's a good guy. He's going to take you to safety.”
One of the prisoners, a gaunt Latino woman with sunken hazel eyes and the dark rings of the sleepless, stepped closer to him. “You're coming with us?”
“No,” Kell told her. “I'm going to stay right here and make sure no one follows you. Now, go.”
The prisoners, seeing an open gate and a chance for freedom, didn't need to be told twice. Much like a mother who will lift a car from her trapped child, they found a strength and energy at odds with the sad state of their bodies.
Bedraggled and clad in rags, the prisoners ran. As he watched them leave, a great weight lifted from Kell's heart. Now, at least, he would only be responsible for his own death if he screwed up.
Long minutes passed in silence before Kell heard the signal, a single bleat of car horn. Inwardly, Kell smiled, though he kept his face carefully neutral.
“Nice doing business with you, gentlemen,” he said. “I'll be walking out myself. This thing has a good long range on it, so once I'm a few hundred feet away you won't have to worry about me setting off the explosives.”
Lucas glowered with rage. “You motherfucker.”
Kell jiggled the detonator. “Insurance. I'd say I'm sorry, but...well, I'm not. One of you shoots me while I'm walking away and it's going to end badly for all of you.”
The first step away from the truck was the hardest of his life. The crowd around him was a powder keg of anger and hate, and he was alone, essentially naked to the whims of the marauders. The second step was easier, and by the third he was trotting along.
Once he was past the edge of the camp, Kell broke into a run. A glance over his shoulder at the handful of men still aiming weapons at him sent a pulse of terror through him, but he was resolved. The next part was going to suck.
Throwing himself forward, Kell tossed the detonator away. The delay was just long enough for him to land on his belly, feet toward the truck. Laura had explained it to him. His best chance was to present the explosion with the smallest possible section of his body. In this case it was a pair of steel-tongued boots and a good hundred feet of space between.