Solar Plexus

by Victor Zugg

  ***

  “Two dead,” Harvey said, as he moved through the lobby.

  “I have one alive,” Sam said, as he pointed his rifle at the man’s head.

  Sam heard Harvey speak into his mini-mic. “Alpha two, report.”

  “Entrance successful,” Forsyth answered in Sam’s earpiece. “Three dead.”

  “Two dead here, one alive,” Harvey said. “Hold your position.”

  Harvey looked out the doorway for several moments and then walked over to where Sam stood. Harvey pressed the tip of his barrel into the man’s temple. “Where’s the girl?”

  Sam saw a confused look on the man’s face. “I don’t think he can hear,” Sam said.

  Harvey bent down closer and pressed his barrel harder. “Where’s the girl?” he yelled.

  Sam saw the man’s eyes focus on Harvey.

  “He heard that,” Harvey said. Harvey stood up straight and brought the barrel of his rifle to rest on the man’s left knee. He pressed hard. “Where’s the girl?” he yelled again.

  The man winced as he stared at Harvey.

  Sam jumped at the sudden blast from Harvey’s rifle. Blood oozed from the kneecap as the man screamed in pain.

  “Where’s the girl?” Harvey yelled.

  “Now he can’t hear again,” Sam said.

  “He can hear enough,” Harvey replied, as he moved the barrel of his rifle to the man’s right knee.

  “Top floor,” the man mumbled through gritted teeth.

  “Which room?” Harvey asked.

  “Southwest corner,” the man said, as he rocked back and forth holding his knee.

  “How many men?”

  “Two in the room,” the man grunted.

  “Alpha 2,” Harvey said into his mini-mic.

  “Copy,” Forsyth replied in Sam’s earpiece.

  “Top floor, southwest corner room, two men reported. Expect more.

  “Copy. Oscar mike.”

  “Copy,” Harvey replied, as he started toward the stairwell door with his rifle shouldered.

  “What about him?” Sam asked, pointing to the man sprawled on the floor.

  Harvey stopped and looked back at the man on the floor who was grasping his knee with both hands as he rolled around on the floor in agony. Harvey brought his rifle down and fired one round. Topper fell back lifeless. A small amount of blood seeped from a hole in his forehead. “Desperate times,” Harvey said, as he continued to the stairwell.

  Sam paused for a moment, shocked at Harvey’s brutality. He looked at Harvey and then back down to Topper.

  “You coming?” Harvey asked.

  “Right behind you,” Sam replied.

  Sam caught up just as Harvey opened the stairwell door and stepped inside.

  “These shitheads killed a lot of my friends,” Harvey whispered.

  Sam nodded and stepped carefully up the stairs behind Harvey.

  At each landing, Harvey opened the door, checked the hallways, and then continued up the stairs.

  ***

  “Your people are on their way,” Toothpick said to Tiff, who was still tied up but now sitting in a corner.

  “You could always give up,” Tiff said.

  Toothpick moved over to the window and peered outside. The sky was getting light. “Not happening.” Movement at the tree line caught his attention. He kept his eye on the spot. After a few moments, he saw a man step out wearing a red bandana around his arm, then another man, and another. Soon, there were twenty-two men low trotting across the open field toward the main entrance. Each carried a rifle.

  Toothpick turned back from the window and looked down on Tiff. “Not happening,” he repeated.

  ***

  Harvey froze on the fourth landing and looked back at Sam. “Did you hear that?”

  Sam cocked his ear. After a few seconds, he was about to reply when he stopped short and cocked his ear some more. “I heard it. Stepping on glass. They’re moving up behind us.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Harvey said. “Let’s keep moving.”

  Harvey stepped off at a faster pace. Sam followed. By the sixth landing, the sound of footfalls on the steps below was unmistakable. Sam detected a lot of feet and they were practically running. Harvey began taking steps two at a time. Sam remained close. At the tenth and final landing, Harvey stopped. He cracked the door and checked the hall. Nothing. “Alpha two, status?” Harvey said into his mic.

  Forsyth’s voice squawked. “Coming up on eight. Negative on any Hadji so far.”

  Harvey keyed his mike. “On ten. We have multiple bogeys coming up our six. Recommend you check your six and then charlie mike.”

  “Copy, alpha one.”

  Sam looked at Harvey. “Hadji?”

  “Desert lingo for bad guy,” Harvey replied. “Forsyth will continue with the mission. We need to hold off these guys coming up.”

  “Roger that,” Sam said, as he stepped to the door and pulled it open a crack. “We’ll need a back door.”

  He stuck his head out and looked down the interior hall. Gunfire erupted. Sam felt the whoosh of rounds before they started ricocheting off the wall and floor around him. He slammed the door shut. “We won’t be going this way anytime soon.”

  Harvey motioned at the stair railing. “Let me know when they get to nine.” He pulled his last hand grenade from his vest and put his finger through the trigger ring.

  Sam moved to the railing and looked over the side. He could see men coming up on the eighth landing. One guy stuck his head out and looked up. He and Sam locked eyes. The guy smiled. “They’re at eight,” Sam said, as he jerked his head back.

  Sam listened to the footfalls getting closer until finally, they were at the landing immediately below. He motioned to Harvey. Sam watched as Harvey pulled the pin and rolled the hand grenade down the stairs. Harvey dove to the floor and covered his ears with his hands. Sam followed suit and tried to sink into the concrete to get as low as possible. A few seconds later a concussion wave from the blast pushed against Sam’s temples and he felt debris land on and around him. He opened his eyes. Thick white dust drifted in the air and settled on a bloody forearm only inches from his nose. The forearm wasn’t attached to a hand or an elbow. Sam thought about what Chet and Tiff said about this trip starting to get real and he wondered if any of them would ever make it to Tennessee.

  ***

  “Considering you guys don’t have explosives, sounds like the homie team may not be doing so well,” Tiff said.

  “Shut that bitch up,” Toothpick said to the only other man in the room. The man, covered in tattoos, and a gold earring in each ear, walked over and slapped Tiff across the face.

  Tiff returned to a sitting position as best she could, considering her hands were still tied behind her back. The man returned to his position near the door.

  Toothpick opened the only window in the room and looked out. The sun was up and the open field was empty of people. He walked to the opposite side of the room and picked up a coil of rope along with a short piece of two-by-four and returned to the window. He tied one end of the rope to the center of the board and then threw the coil of rope out the window. He placed the board across the window opening to secure the rope. He then drew a pistol from his waistband and walked toward Tiff.

  ***

  Forsyth cracked open the door to the tenth-floor hallway. About halfway down, what would be the center of the building, he saw three men barricaded and pointing rifles in the opposite direction. Forsyth took the last hand grenade from his vest, pulled the pin, and rolled the grenade down the hall. Forsyth closed the door, covered his ears, and motioned for Chet to do the same. After the explosion, Forsyth cracked the door and looked out. The hallway was filled with smoke, debris, and a collapsed ceiling. One of the three men was sprawled on the floor not moving. The other two were covered with white powder and were trying to stand up.

  Forsyth sprang through the door and rushed forward followed closely by Chet. Forsyth fired two bursts from h
is rifle. The two gangbangers fell back lifeless. Forsyth pressed on past the remains of the barricade toward the southwest corner of the floor.

  Sam and Harvey stepped into view from the stairwell door at the other end of the hall and converged with Forsyth and Chet. The four of them hustled to the last room at the southwest corner of the building and stopped outside the door.

  ***

  Toothpick pointed his pistol at Tiff’s head and smiled. Tiff drew her feet close to her butt and curled into a ball. But she kept her eyes on Toothpick.

  In her peripheral vision, she saw the tattooed man run to the window and take hold of the rope. He clambered through the opening and disappeared below the window sill. The two-by-four flexed slightly from his weight on the rope.

  Toothpick glanced at the window. In that split second, Tiff shot both legs out and caught Toothpick in the kneecaps. Toothpick stumbled back but remained standing.

  At that instant, the door burst open and Harvey rushed in. He immediately fired two rounds into Toothpick who fell to the floor at Tiff’s feet.

  Sam rushed over, placed two fingers on Toothpick’s neck for a few seconds, and then pulled his knife. He cut the rope binding Tiff’s hands and pulled her to her feet. “You okay?” he asked.

  She hugged Sam and then pushed back nodding her head up and down. “Where’s Elliot?”

  Chet stepped forward. “We came without him; left before he could complain.”

  “He’s back at the field hospital,” Harvey said. “He’ll be fine.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Late the next morning, Sam, Chet, Tiff, and Elliot, with his arm in a sling, stepped from the field hospital just as Lieutenant Harvey pulled up with a transport model Hummer. They met Harvey as he hopped out of the vehicle.

  “Compliments of Lieutenant Colonel Byers,” Harvey said, as he waved his hand at the Hummer. “She’s gassed, packed with MRE’s, and the doc provided an expanded med kit that includes antibiotics, just in case. There’s extra ammo. And there’s the radio. Range is only ten clicks but it might be useful.”

  “We can’t thank you enough,” Sam said. “When this is over I’ll make sure you get your truck back.”

  Harvey smiled and then looked at Elliot. “Captain Jeffries pulled out early this morning, and I’m about ready to head out with what’s left of the convoy, where can we drop you?”

  “Thank you lieutenant, but these guys are letting me tag along. I’ll be going with them.”

  “Are you sure?” Harvey asked. “We’re in no hurry, and we’d be glad to drop you anywhere and help get you situated.”

  Elliot glanced at Tiff and then back to Harvey. “Divorced, no kids. The only thing keeping me here was the job, and now that’s gone. I might as well move on. Maybe I can help.”

  “The air force and army appreciate the help you gave us,” Harvey said. “Maybe we did some good.”

  “Maybe,” Elliot said.

  Engines started and Harvey glanced at the line of Hummers behind him. “Looks like we’re oscar mike. Good luck. You know where to find me if you’re down around Valdosta.”

  Everyone shook hands and Harvey jogged off toward the lead Hummer.

  “I guess we should stop by the room and load our gear,” Sam said.

  Chet slid behind the wheel, Sam took shotgun, and Tiff and Elliot crawled in the back.

  ***

  Sam stared out his window as the Hummer crept along the broad highway. The light breeze coming through the opening did little to alleviate the sweat rolling down his neck. Uncomfortable, he thought, compared to the air-conditioned relative luxury he took for granted only days earlier, but still light years better than what most were feeling these days. The number of people leaving Atlanta had increased even more. Masses shuffled along with what they could carry and lined both sides of the road. Most looked dejected—probably not sure where they were going. They all looked up as the Hummer passed. Many waived for the Hummer to stop. Some even tried to block the truck with their bodies.

  Chet slowed but never took his foot off the gas. When the people realized Chet wasn’t stopping, they moved out of the way.

  “I feel terrible for these people,” Tiff said. “What will happen?”

  “There’s nothing we can do to help them,” Chet said. “If they expect to survive they each must find a way.”

  “That seems cold,” Tiff said.

  Chet glanced back at Tiff. “It is cold. If the last few days have taught us anything it’s that we’re going to have to get downright frigid to survive.”

  “Some will have the drive,” Sam said. “We need to make sure we’re among them.”

  Everyone withdrew to their own thoughts.

  Once they were through the metro area an hour later, Chet was able to maintain a moderate speed as he drove up Interstate 75.

  “Tell me about this cabin of yours,” Elliot said.

  Sam glanced back at Elliot. “It’s in the mountains south of Knoxville, not too far from Gatlinburg, just outside a small town called Townsend. It’s a two bedroom with a detached garage and pump house sitting on ten acres. The nearest neighbor is half a mile away. There’s a year-round stream that runs through the property.”

  “Sounds nice. Do you plan to just camp out until the lights come back on?”

  “Well, Tiff has her Mom and Dad in Ohio. If she doesn’t mind I thought we could stop by the cabin and then head on up to do what we can for her parents.”

  “I appreciate that,” Tiff said.

  “Is there anyone at the cabin now?” Elliot asked.

  “Not supposed to be,” Sam replied. “But who knows? I plan for us to go in quietly.”

  “At this speed, we’ll be arriving in the dark,” Chet said.

  “We’ll play that by ear,” Sam responded.

  “I know you guys arrived from down south with Harvey, but where are you from?”

  “Daytona Beach area for me and Chet,” Sam said.

  “Orlando,” Tiff said.

  “And the cabin is a second home?” Elliot asked.

  “Well, more of a bug out location,” Sam said. “My brother and I inherited it from my parents. They both died in an accident when I was ten. My brother and I were raised by an uncle who is also deceased now. My dad actually built the cabin.”

  “Brother?”

  “Yeah, lives in St. Louis.”

  “That place must be a real mess about now,” Elliot said.

  “No doubt,” Sam said. “He has more in St. Louis to keep him there—wife, kids, wife’s family. But who knows, they may all end up at the cabin at some point.”

  ***

  Several hours of creeping along put them past Chattanooga, and Chet was able to increase speed.

  After a couple of those hours with not a lot of chatter from the back, Sam glanced in the rear and watched as Tiff put her hand to Elliot’s forehead. “Elliot has a fever,” she said. She then looked into Elliot’s eyes. “You’re shivering.”

  Sam checked the side mirror, glanced left and right, and saw they were on a deserted stretch of the highway. He motioned to the right. “Let’s pull over for a while and get him some air and water.”

  Chet drove off the road, through a grassy area, and turned off the engine under the shade of a large oak tree. “Let’s see what the doc provided for us in that med kit,” he said, as he stepped out of the Hummer.

  Sam followed. Chet opened the rear and extracted a large red nylon bag. He unzipped the bag and started rummaging.

  “We have a couple of different antibiotics,” Chet said. “Pills. The most powerful seems to be Cipro.”

  Sam stuck his hand in the bag and pulled out an IV kit. “We have a couple of IV antibiotics as well.”

  Tiff helped Elliot out of the Hummer, walked him over to the base of the tree, and sat him down. She walked back to the Hummer and then returned to Elliot with a camouflage poncho liner and a bottle of water. She wrapped the liner around Elliot’s shoulders and gently laid him back against the tr
ee. Elliot continued to shiver. She opened the bottle and had him take some sips. She then walked over to Sam and Chet. “Let’s try the Cipro.”

  Chet dumped a pill into Tiff’s hand. She walked over to Elliot and helped him swallow the pill with a few gulps of water.

  “I’m thinking maybe we should stay here for the rest of today and tonight,” Sam said to Chet.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Chet said. “We’ll see how he’s doing in the morning.”

  Sam reached into the Hummer and pulled out four MRE packs. “He probably should eat something. None of us have eaten much in the last couple of days.”

  Sam and Chet walked over to where Tiff sat with Elliot.

  “We’re thinking we should stay here for tonight,” Sam said. “Give Elliot a chance to rest, eat, drink, and let the pills work.”

  Tiff nodded. “Good idea.”

  Chet started back to the Hummer. “Mosquitoes will carry us away. We’ll need the tents.”

  “Actually, Tiff and Elliot can sleep in one of the tents,” Sam said. “So he can lie flat. You and I can sleep in the Hummer. We’ll be able to keep a better eye out that way.”

  Chet nodded as he pulled one of the tents from the back of the Hummer and started putting the tent poles together near Tiff and Elliot.

  Sam opened one of the MRE’s, sorted through the contents, and handed Tiff the peanut butter and crackers. “See if he’ll eat something.”

  “You know, I’m right here, quite capable of understanding basic instructions,” Elliot said.

  “You need to eat something,” Sam said.

  Tiff spread some peanut butter on a cracker and handed it to Elliot. Elliot moved his head back and forth. “Not really that hungry.”

  “You need to eat something with that pill. Otherwise, it will do a number on your stomach.”

  Elliot took the cracker and nibbled at the corner while Tiff prepared another cracker.

  Chet moved closer to Sam. “We have some people approaching.”