Henry tasted blood on the inside of his lip. He’d never wanted to kill a man so badly.
Elias cleared his throat. “Say, ‘maybe you’re on the wrong street. Where are you exactly?’”
Chapter Forty-Five
“Maybe you’re on the wrong street. Where are you exactly?”
Leland wasn’t born yesterday. He knew Henry was being fed lines, but he didn’t know who the puppetmaster was. Fortunately, he had caught the passphrase and was far from the corner of Sycamore and Blithe. Given the conversation from Henry’s end and the tone of his voice, Leland knew Henry was in quite the predicament.
“I’m not far,” Leland said, “but not there yet. It will be a few minutes.” Maybe this would buy him some time. He figured Henry was in one of the buildings nearby, and Henry needed to give him some hint of a location. Leland had been told the corner of Sycamore and Blithe because that was where their enemy wanted to pick him up. The real answer was likely a block or so away in any direction.
So much of his career, so much of his life, had hinged on him making calculated decisions. This time would be no different. He didn’t know if Henry was being held captive by the soldiers or if he had been taken by a group of rioters looking to rob him and Leland of everything they had.
He thought for a moment and finally shook his head. He didn’t think any of the rioters or any typical criminal would invite Leland to come looking for them. It seemed too calculated. Too thought-out.
He decided to take his chances with the soldiers. If he was wrong, he would pay the price, but that would be true no matter what. Night was upon him, and danger lurked around every corner.
Leland didn’t fear the night. He welcomed it. As the sun had faded, the shadier, more sinister souls crept out into the streets and had begun working themselves into a frenzy—their new nightly ritual of cleansing the city of its corporate roots. They worked in groups, looting and burning everything in sight. His cop instincts wanted him to institute some law and order, but he was undercover now. The looters and rioters were a mask for his movements.
Most of the commotion was a block or two east of his current position, but it was quickly moving his way. To his left was a bank building that had already had the front windows shattered, which left a wide opening for him to walk through. He went inside and climbed a flight of stairs to the third floor. There he looked out a set of windows at the street below and got a good vantage point of the corner of Sycamore and Blithe.
The crowd wasn’t far now. Once they reached this area, his enemies wouldn’t know where to look for him unless Henry had been forced to give a description.
As Leland watched from the window, he spotted a few soldiers standing off from the corner of Sycamore and Blithe. They were waiting for him. Down the street a crowd had formed. They were moving in the direction of the soldiers, perhaps to pick a fight. This was Leland’s chance.
“Down with tyranny! Down with oppression! Down with a police state!” One man led the group in these chants as the others repeated him. Most of them brandished weapons like baseball bats or crowbars. A lot of them carried nothing at all but were ready to destroy something.
Leland held the radio near his mouth. “I’m walking alongside the large group of people who are coming up the street, but I’m a little bit off to the side.”
Henry’s voice came back. “What group of people?”
“Rioters,” Leland answered.
Leland knew he had to make a decision. There were two ways this situation could play out. The rioters would come face-to-face with the soldiers and they would either ignore them, or someone would pick a fight. But considering the soldiers were carrying guns and most of the rioters weren’t, he suspected that it wouldn’t be much of a fight.
The other option was for Leland to go down there and instigate a fight and make the rioters believe they could win it. He didn’t personally care if they won. They just needed to fight long enough for Leland to subdue a soldier and get the information he needed.
He gritted his teeth and made the decision. Without his direction, he couldn’t trust that the situation would go his way. He stepped away from the window and stormed out of the room, then he took two steps at a time down the stairs and rushed out onto the street. Here, he was out of view from the soldiers, but he was a block in front of the rioters who were still chanting their hate for the government.
What he was about to do was risky; he knew that. Before he reached for his gun, he wondered why he was risking his life like this. Why was he doing all of this for Henry? An escaped convict. A murderer. Leland had spent his entire life sending people like him away.
But he knew he wasn’t any better.
When he looked at Henry, he didn’t see a murderer. He didn’t see a criminal. The two of them had still never discussed what he had done to get life in prison, but didn’t everyone deserve a second chance, particularly in this new world?
And this was a new world. He didn’t know the extent of what was going on, but it didn’t matter. Even after just two days of the power being out, probably all over the country, the world would change. It had already changed. Everybody, including Henry, including himself, had to look at life differently now.
He held his 30-30 in front of his chest, then he cocked it and fired into the air.
The crowd stopped their chanting and many of them stood in the middle of the street, frozen like statues. He was glad the shot hadn’t set them off in a panicked run. He took a few steps forward, then cleared his throat.
“Listen up!” Leland’s voice carried louder than he expected it to. To his surprise, the rioters waited for him to continue. “The soldiers that have been policing our blocks for the last two days need to go! We don’t need a police state! We don’t need martial law!” He got a few responses of whoops and hollers, but some of the crowd remained unconvinced. “We’ve been breaking into buildings and burning them down, but it’s time we take the fight to the soldiers themselves. This is a fight against oppression. We need answers. Not control.” This seemed to gather more support. “Who’s with me? Who will take the fight to the soldiers themselves? Who’s going to take control of their own destiny and make sure that our children are free?”
There was a part of him that felt rotten about the speech. He was playing on the emotions of uninformed people. A lot of these people didn’t even care about what they were fighting or rioting about. They were just taking advantage of the chaos. But the same types could be worked into a frenzy, and Leland’s words were working. He didn’t know if something like this would send them to their deaths, but as far as he was concerned, he faced two enemies: the rioters and the soldiers. His enemy was anything keeping him from getting home.
Leland lifted his gun into the air and fired off another shot. Then with a loud bellowing scream, he said, “Let’s get them!”
It was a gamble, but the speech paid off. He spun on his heels and turned toward the soldiers at the other end of the block who were now watching them with worried glances. Thankfully, almost the entire crowd charged behind Leland. Leland understood immediately that he was on the front lines and would be shot down if he didn’t jump out of the way. The soldiers seemed confused at first, probably because they hadn’t heard everything Leland said. Maybe they thought that he was leading the charge to burn another building, and these soldiers wouldn’t care because they weren’t US military. They weren’t here to enact martial law. They were here for something else. When the first soldier lifted his gun and pointed it at the crowd, Leland pretended to fall in the middle of the street, then he rolled. The soldier let off a few rounds above the heads of the rioters, but they would not be deterred now. Leland got to his knees so as not to be trampled by the crowd who were now in a frenzy and ready to tear someone apart. Leland just had to make sure he got to one of the soldiers alive. And he hoped he would find someone who would be willing to talk, able to talk. He hoped he had made the right call.
It was too late. The crowd had over
whelmed the few soldiers and were already on top of them, beating them and ultimately shooting them all. Leland swore, but then he saw another group of soldiers coming in from another direction. They were firing on the crowd, and Leland jumped back and took an alley so he could circle around them. One by one rioters fell to the ground, blood pooling into the street. With the addition of the new soldiers, the crowd soon became overwhelmed. A few of them had guns and returned fire, which hit one or two of the soldiers, forcing them to pull back and duck for cover. This was perfect for Leland. When he turned the corner from the alley, he saw two of the soldiers firing at the crowd with their backs to him. He cocked the rifle and let off a round at the soldier to the left, throwing him to the ground. Then he ran up to the one on the right and slammed the butt of his rifle into the back of his neck. The soldier fell over and struggled, but Leland grabbed his weapon and tossed it to the side. He grabbed the front of the man’s jacket and head-butted him in the middle of the face.
The soldier was dazed by the blow, and Leland dragged him back into the alley as he saw more soldiers converging on to the rioters. He knew he must be close to where Henry was being held. Why else would the mercenaries be determined to keep the crowd out of this area? They must have been patrolling Sycamore and Blithe looking for him, but he didn’t know there would be this many. They would have no way to tell who he was in this chaos. He shoved the man against the wall and forced him to look him in the eyes.
“Where are they keeping the hostages?” Leland punched the man in the jaw, then repeated the question. “Where are they keeping the hostages?”
Leland pulled back and grabbed his rifle. Then he cocked it and pointed it at the man’s chest. “I don’t have time to deal with someone who’s not going to talk to me. Either you tell me where they are keeping the hostages, or I’m going to shoot you. It’s your choice.”
The man seemed to be weighing his options, trying to see if Leland was telling the truth. Ultimately, he decided not to risk it and pointed at the building just behind Leland.
“They’re keeping two hostages in the building just behind you,” the soldier said. “It’s two levels down. But there are guards down there. You won’t stand a chance.”
“You let me worry about that,” Leland said. He raised his foot and kicked the man in the side of the head, knocking him to the ground. The blow wasn’t hard enough to kill him, but he might be out for a while.
Leland stood straight and watched the building across from him. There was a small door that looked inconspicuous. He wasn’t sure if the soldier had been trained to lie to him, but he was pretty good at reading people. Leland cocked his rifle and stepped forward.
He could hardly see inside the corridor. The building was dark, and it seemed empty. He wondered over and over if the soldier had sent him into a trap. Still, he moved forward, his rifle set firmly in his grip. He could hear the commotion outside. Gunshots kept firing off, which meant the rioters had not given up yet. He wondered how many soldiers from this building had gone out and if he would find much resistance. But he knew if Henry was here and he and his brother were being held hostage, they wouldn’t have been left completely alone.
It was rare for a cop to enter into a hostage situation, and this certainly was not the way to go about it. As each day crawled by, he was becoming less and less an officer of the law, and more and more a vigilante doing whatever he could and whatever was best for himself and his friends and family.
Much of what he had done went against his instincts, but scarily enough, he was starting to find that he was better at what he was doing now than he had been at proper policing. It jarred him how much he could persuade the crowd to start fighting. Sure, they were ready to fight and they wanted to fight, but all they needed was that spark, and Leland had ignited the flames so easily.
He couldn’t tell what type of building this was. There were no significant markings along the walls, and it didn’t look like an apartment complex. It was likely an abandoned building that hadn’t been used in years and had been emptied of its human contents. Now, it was likely filled with bugs and rodents.
With what little light flashed through windows from gunfire and flames in the distance, Leland saw rats on the floor crawling in front of him.
He strained to hear any sound that might come from an interrogation or from shouts for help from Henry or his brother, but it was hard for him to hear anything over his thumping heartbeat. Adrenaline had been pumping through his veins at a rapid pace going on forty hours now. There had only been short moments of respite, but he knew when this was all over he was going to have to rest.
Would there be time to rest? Food was scarce. Water wasn’t running. Their basic needs were not taken care of. Now, he had gone on a mission to Chicago to rescue his daughter and was stuck in the middle of some fight he didn’t understand, but if he survived this and made it back to Hope, he wouldn’t be able to take a vacation. He wondered if he had wasted his time coming here. Would rescuing Cora really help her to survive? Would Henry and his brother live much longer on their own? They would all likely starve to death soon anyway.
He knew that wasn’t entirely the case. There were rivers and ponds, and plenty of ways to sanitize water near his home. Hunting in Wisconsin was good. And he knew plenty of people who did more than their fair share of ice fishing. There were ways to survive, they just had to band together and make sure everyone got an equal share. If they didn’t work together, they would die. At least, a lot of them would. Part of living as a community was taking care of those who couldn’t help themselves in a situation like this.
Leland didn’t want to think about all that. Helping the town of Hope was a heavy burden.
It was a few minutes before he found some semblance of artificial light. After not having seen artificial light in the last few days, it felt odd, even unsettling to see the glow coming from the end of the hallway. It looked to be from lamps or lights and screens. After he saw the lights, he could hear voices. People talking to each other. A couple of times he heard loud voices. One person even shouted a command that seemed to be going through a radio. The soldier had not led Leland astray. This abandoned building acted as a makeshift command center for the soldiers outside. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t the United States military. He couldn’t help but think about that symbol he had seen on the tank when they entered the sectioned-off zone. Who were these people? Why were they here? Why were they in his daughter’s neighborhood? And why had they captured Henry and his brother?
Henry’s voice called out to him on the radio again, and he reached to turn down the volume. “Where are you right now?”
Leland pressed the button on the radio. “Where are you?” he asked.
The answer didn’t come immediately. He imagined Henry was looking up at his captor, wondering what he was supposed to say next. “I don’t know. They’ve got me in some room. The light is on. The power is working in here.”
He said the last parts quickly as though he wasn’t supposed to say them. Henry would have no idea how helpful those words were. If he was in a room where there was a light, then he was in a building that had power. And so far, the only building Leland had seen with power was this one. That meant Henry wasn’t far away. He couldn’t quite see into the room up ahead, but he could tell from the voices that they were part of the same group. They talked quickly and in worried tones, indicating that the riot outside had them nervous.
Leland got as close to the doors as he felt comfortable. It would only take one soldier to sound the alarm and his cover would be blown. The cacophony of voices made it hard to distinguish who was saying what, but he finally zeroed in on a soldier nearest the door. He could hear the voice on the other end of the radio crying out, “How are there so many people out here? Aren’t they afraid of our guns?”
“Are you not able to contain the situation?” the soldier nearest the door demanded.
“If we don’t want a full-scale massacre, then we’re gonn
a need some backup.”
“Fine,” the soldier said. “I’m calling it in.”
Leland then listened to the soldier call for seven trucks. He imagined the trucks would have guns on the back and room for plenty of soldiers, even if they were mainly used to look menacing and overpowering to the rioters outside. Most of them were unarmed and were there just to cause a ruckus.
Leland didn’t hesitate to move past the door and down the hallway. He didn’t know why the soldiers were here, but he didn’t believe it was just for crowd control. The fact that they had opened fire on citizens further proved to Leland that they weren’t common soldiers or even the US military.
At the end of the hallway, Leland reached a door. He slowly turned the handle and opened it, only to find another stairwell going down. The soldier he had questioned told him they were two levels down. It would make sense to have hostages in a lower section of the building.
So, he took a deep breath and went down the stairs.
Chapter Forty-Six
The sounds outside were almost too much for Cora to bear. Even within the hospital walls, she could hear the chanting. The screaming. The gunshots.
She wasn’t sure who the rioters were or what their goal was, but more and more people were realizing that there was no police force to stop them. Only the soldiers showed any presence of contention against the rioters. But even then, she hadn’t seen them interact very much. Each night was getting worse and worse with the number of people breaking things, burning things, and producing violence all over the city.
She feared for her dad’s safety as he walked out into the night. She meant it when she said they shouldn’t leave until the morning. It was dangerous out there.
She sat in a chair next to Michelle, who was sleeping soundly. She knew the medicine was working its way through her body, fighting the infection. Michelle would survive, but Cora wasn’t sure what that would mean for her. Her mother was gone.
Fallen Earth | Book 2 | Aftermath Page 23