Carl then heard multiple clicks. Ben was pulling the trigger but was out of bullets. He had spent his clip on them. “Damn!” Ben then tossed aside the gun. “No matter.” Then he erupted from the smoke and grabbed Carl by the shoulders. “Like I said, it’ll be more fun to beat the shit out of you!”
Carl coughed. The stinging pain in his leg plus his exhaustion from the multiple fights was too much. He could not stop Ben from slamming him into the coffee table. The additional pain and shock made the world blurry. Even with Ben’s mask up close, he could see nothing but a brown smudge.
“Lights out, soldier,” Ben said.
“Get off him!”
Carl tried raising his head. He knew that was Harold’s voice, but he would be damned if he could turn and see him. The world around him suddenly turned black, and he succumbed to his injuries and exhaustion.
“Alright!” Michael raised his gun to the ceiling. “Duck and cover!”
Tara shifted Shyanne down to her knees and then covered the girl as best she could in the cramped place. The trio had been hacking away at the ceiling above them with the small tools they had found—a hammer and a flat-edged screwdriver. They successfully had broken open a section of the ceiling, but it was not big enough for any of them to fit through. However, they had loosened one of the boards enough that if it broke loose, it might expose enough of a gap for them to climb up to what Michael and Tara hoped was the attic.
Michael didn’t know how many shots he had left, so he had to make this one count. He pushed up on the wood until he found the place where it was anchored. He placed the barrel of the gun right up against the spot. “Okay. Here we go.” Michael closed his eyes and discharged his weapon.
A loud bang rattled him so much that, coupled with the heat of the enclosed room, he might have fallen down if the door behind him was not propping him up. He felt a sudden gust of hot air from above. He turned and gazed at his handiwork. The wooden board was now loose and exposing a slight gap.
“I think we got it.” After holstering his gun, Michael pushed up on the board. It flew up, completely loose, but he was too far below to push it all the way. “Tara, get on the trunk and give it a push.”
Tara complied. The trunk raised her high enough so she could push the board off to the side and expose a yawning space. Michael shone the light up into it. Sure enough, the ceiling was obscuring an attic. But bad news awaited along with the good. Smoke was drifting through the gap. Their way of escape also was offering a swifter means of killing them.
“Throw the tools up there,” Michael said. “We may need them to break through the roof. Or, maybe, the floor if we can find a spot below us that isn’t swarming with bad guys or flames.” Though, as Tara tossed their meager assortment of tools up into the attic, Michael wondered how useful they truly would be. He had no idea if there was any way out of the attic but judging from the ceiling collapses he had witnessed in the house, there had to be gaps in the attic floor, probably ones that would deposit them somewhere else in the home.
“Alright!” A coughing spasm cut off Michael from saying anything more for a moment. “Damn! Tara! Shyanne--get her up there!”
“Will do!” Tara knelt down by Shyanne, who still clutched Tara’s jacket over her. “Okay, Baby, I need you to take that off. We’re getting out of here, so you need to be able to see. You can’t have the jacket on you. Do you understand?”
Shyanne nodded.
Gently, Tara pulled the jacket off Shyanne’s face. Then she held Shyanne’s face in her hands so the girl looked right up at her.
“There you go!” Tara tilted Shyanne’s gaze up to the hole. “See? That’s our way out!”
Shyanne smiled. “Great. I--I think I can do it.”
“Good, good. Be brave for us, Shyanne. Be brave.” Tara took the girl by her waist and lifted her high enough to reach the attic. Shyanne grabbed the attic floor with both hands. Michael recovered enough from his coughing fit to help push Shyanne up and over.
“Okay.” Michael wiped fresh tears out of his eyes as he looked down from the hole to Tara. “Now…you.”
He seized Tara and lifted her up. With some added effort, Michael pushed the young woman up into the attic. Tara struggled a little, but she rolled up onto the attic floor. But in the process, the floor creaked loudly. This house was very unstable from the explosion and the fire. Michael feared more dangers awaited them up there.
Tara looked down into the closet. “Michael!” She coughed. “C’mon!”
Michael climbed up onto the trunk, but dizziness was overtaking him. He was not well. He had been through a tough brawl with Carl and he had yet to recover in any significant way. The heat and smoke were pushing him to the breaking point. He feared he could faint at any time.
“Michael!” Tara called down. “We’re on the clock here before the smoke kills us!”
Michael gasped. “Tara…maybe you ought to go ahead.”
“Bullshit! I’m not leaving you again. Not now, not ever!”
Michael covered his nose. It alleviated some of the sting of the smoke and made it less painful to breathe. Tara wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Quitting now only would leave Tara and Shyanne in danger. So, he reached up for the ceiling gap.
His hand slipped once. His second attempt made it. He held on to the edge of the gap and hoisted himself up. He almost rose past his chest, but weakness overcame him, and he started slipping back down.
Tara grabbed him by the arms before he could slide farther. “No you don’t!” She then lifted him. Michael rose higher. He quickly gathered his wits and pushed up under his own strength. The floor creaked again.
“Dammit, Tara, this isn’t…going…” Michael spat out.
“Yes…it…is!” Tara shouted.
Between the two of them, Michael rose out of the gap enough to slam down onto the attic floor on his chest. His legs still dangled into the closet, but he was up in the attic. Yet, he was exhausted.
“Tara…push me…”
She knew what he wanted. She took hold of his legs and lifted them up onto the floor. Michael looked around and took in their surroundings.
The attic was tall enough for adults to walk around if they remained crouched. Smoke ascended through small gaps in the floor. A much larger cave-in was a few paces away, but it appeared blocked up with wreckage. Farther away, a small fire burned through the floor.
Tara gripped Michael’s arm. “Get up. We’re…we’re blowing this place.”
Michael rolled to his knees. It was tough to summon the strength to lift his legs, but he was too far along to quit now. Shyanne also helped, although he refused to relax the arm she held. She was too little to actually help, but Michael was grateful for the effort. Better to let her think she was assisting.
Michael finally rose to his feet, just as the floor creaked again. Michael’s heart pounded. Was the floor underneath them about to cave?
“Don’t make any sudden movements,” he whispered as he looked around for an exit. Perhaps he could find the door. If he busted the springs or the lock, he might be able to drop it down into the house below and get them out of here.
“C’mon….c’mon, where the hell is it?” Michael muttered.
Suddenly, the section of floor where the fire was burning through caved in. A much larger fire roared through the gap, lashing the support beams and the very top of the attic ceiling.
“Shit!” Now Michael knew they couldn’t stay. He didn’t know if anywhere in this attic was stable anymore, but it would be better to get away from the fire while they could.
He stepped around the open gap they just had climbed through. But no sooner did the three of them pass the hole, then the floor creaked again—much louder.
Chapter Four
Harold and Thomas trained their guns on Ben. Ben clung to Carl’s unconscious form. “You two put those guns down,” Ben said slowly.
“I didn’t put this down when one of your assholes held my boy captive. You think I�
�ll let you go now?” Harold asked.
“Do you have shit for brains? I could kill your friend right here and now!”
“With what? You’re out of ammo,” Harold said. “I heard your gun. You have to reload. Too bad I’m not letting you.”
Ben shoved Carl right in front of him. “Shoot me, you shoot him. That’s the deal. There’s no way you can get through here, soldier.”
Harold bristled. The smoke made it much harder to aim than in the rain just outside the front door, plus there was no way to get a shot past Carl. Ben, a smaller man than Carl, easily could use Carl’s body as cover.
“He’d give his life if it meant you would lose yours.” Harold took one step closer.
“Is that so? But if I die, how will you find your friends? The ones I captured? The woman and the girl? They’re here and you don’t know where. I do. So, it’s a trade. You put down your gun, let me go, and I give you the info.”
Harold took a big step closer. He couldn’t show hesitation. This bastard could be lying to save his own skin.
“First, release Carl. I lower my gun. Then, you tell me where the others are. Then, I let you go,” Harold said, followed by a cough.
Ben laughed. “Hey, I just realized I can afford to wait you out. I’m the one with the oxygen, remember? So, how about you walk over there while I get a little closer to the door. I’ll let your Marine pal loose once I reach the door.” He then turned a bit to Thomas. “And you, beat it! One gun’s got to go to start with.”
Damn. Ben had a point. Thomas couldn’t stay here for long amid this smoke.
“Dad?” Thomas asked.
“It’s alright,” Harold said, “Go!”
The boy nodded before dashing out the doorway. Ben called after him, “And if you make any more trouble, you little son of a bitch, Marine boy here is dead, and so is your dad!” Ben then started dragging Carl toward the front door. “Now start moving!”
Harold complied, shuffling away from the door, though he kept his gun trained on Ben.
However, Ben would not reach the door with his prize. At that moment, a whole section of the ceiling caved in right behind Ben and Carl. The avalanche of wreckage not only spilled wooden debris and dust across the floor, but also ejected three human beings—Michael, Tara and Shyanne. The trio rode a section of wood down to the floor. Fortunately, the wood remained intact after the fall, sparing them any apparent injury, that is if the fall itself didn’t do them any harm.
But while the collapse didn’t impact Ben directly from above, some of the wreckage did strike the man as it slid across the floor. The blow knocked Ben across the floor onto the nearby sofa. Meanwhile, Harold was out of the line of fire enough to remain on his feet and in control of the situation.
While Ben was on his back and groaning, Harold leaped into action. He rushed Ben and yanked the mask off his face. The man still had a cloth camo mask, so it was impossible to make out his appearance. However, without the oxygen, the sudden exposure to the smoke made Ben cough and spasm.
“Thomas!” Harold cried. The boy already was running through the open doorway. He took care to run around the pile of debris as he hurried toward his father.
“If he tries anything, put him down!” Harold cried as he rushed toward Michael, Tara and Shyanne.
Thomas nodded. “I will!” Then he aimed his gun toward the smoke. Ben had retreated behind the sofa and thanks to the smoke, his movements were impossible to track.
Shyanne had crawled up on Tara’s chest. The two adults were heaving and coughing. “Tara! Michael! Can you stand?” Harold asked.
Michael panted. “God…I…don’t…”
Shyanne pushed and pushed on Tara. “Please! Please get up!” She then coughed loud and long, preventing her from pleading any longer.
“Baby…” Tara climbed to her feet. “We have…we have to get her…out…”
Both Michael and Tara fought to even speak. Harold slung his hand under Michael’s arm and propped him up to sitting. Tara managed to sit up under her own power, but they were in danger of losing the fight.
“Mister Carl!” Shyanne cried out.
Carl still was lying by the back wall. Harold hurried over to him. “He’s out.” Harold knelt down over him. “But he’s still alive.”
“Get him…” Michael stood up. His legs were quivering, but he was up. Tara was too, but she had to brace herself on a piece of protruding wood to do so.
Harold lifted Carl up onto his feet. The man mumbled under his breath but did not open his eyes. “Just go! I’ll take care of him!”
“No!” Ben cried. Though still coughing, Ben had emerged from the smoke, now on his feet brandishing a knife.
He took one step in their direction, but Thomas quickly discharged his gun. One shot snagged Ben in the leg. Screaming, Ben turned and raced back into the smoke. Thomas shot twice more in his direction, but there was no accompanying thud of a body falling down.
“Forget him!” Harold called as he dragged Carl toward the door. “Just give him a hand, son! Get him out of here!”
Michael and Tara dragged themselves toward the open door. But then the ceiling above started to creak again. “Damn! Move!” Harold said as he turned away from the door.
Everyone fled from the doorway just as a chunk of the ceiling fell and blocked it off. Now their immediate escape route was gone.
Harold turned to the living room’s main window. It was unobstructed. There might be a chance for them to escape if he just could break through it. But his own strength was ebbing. He feared he could not successfully bust through, and he never knew when Ben would regain his wits, assuming the smoke did not kill them…
The loud, sudden smash of the window quickened Harold’s pulse. Someone else, someone from outside the house, just had smashed the window for him. The man who slammed through the window dropped down out of sight. But then Lorenzo’s voice called from below.
“Hey! Move it!”
Lorenzo had broken enough of the glass for them to climb through. Harold quickly put Carl into the open gap and then pushed him through. Shyanne jumped through next. Michael gave Tara a shove even though she insisted he go first. Michael then climbed through the window and plopped down onto the grass on the other side. Harold ordered Thomas to exit. He would go last.
But just as his boy made his escape, a burst of gunfire hammered the wall near the window. Harold ducked down.
“Dad!” Thomas cried.
“Go!” Harold readied his weapon. Ben was back in the fight. The monster had circled back around, but with all the smoke Harold could not see where he was shooting from. The additional creaks signified that this house was not long for the world.
Harold then sprang from his spot and fired into the smoky void. The shots from beyond the smoke ceased. Harold pressed on. Ben had done too much damage, extracted too high a cost, to be allowed to live. Harold vowed that Ben would pay.
As he charged forth into the flames, a blazing ceiling beam fell down behind him, impaling the center of the living room. Now there was no turning back.
“Dad!” Thomas cried from outside the house as the beam fell.
Everyone else was lying on the ground, having escaped through the window. Lorenzo was the first to sit up, cradling his arm as he pulled shards of glass from it. “Damn!” Some of the shards had not cut deep. Unfortunately, the one he had pulled out started a slight river of blood that washed off in the deluge of rain.
“Lorenzo!” Alicia ran over to him. “My God, what were you thinking?”
Lorenzo pulled off his jacket. “I thought we needed a battering ram to take out the window.” He pulled out a roll of bandages from his pants pocket. “Then I realized I didn’t have one and used myself instead.”
Alicia hurried past Lorenzo to Carl. “Remind me to kill you later if you don’t bleed to death.” She turned him onto his back so she could listen to his chest. “I can’t hear any breathing!”
Tara by now had climbed to her knees and was crawl
ing up to Carl. “Here. I’ll give him CPR.”
“Me first. You barely have enough breath for yourself.” Alicia then fitted her mouth to Carl’s and blew air into the man’s throat.
“Mister Carl!” Shyanne now was standing up. “Oh my God! Is he dead?”
“We’re doing all we can to help him, Baby,” Tara said as Alicia worked on Carl. Michael, meanwhile, was on his hands and knees, coughing as he struggled to stand up. But he seemed the worst off of all except for Carl.
“Preston,” Tara said as she gulped in fresh air. “Where is he?”
“We got him,” Lorenzo answered as he wrapped his wounds with a bandage, “He’s knocked out but alive. Ricardo and his mom are guarding him, along with Matt.”
Thomas was running away from them, along the side of the house. “Where are you going, kid?” Lorenzo asked.
“My dad! I have to help him!” Thomas cried as he fled toward the back side of the house.
Lorenzo tried to rise to his feet, but instead cried out in pain. “Shit! What if those murdering assholes are still out there?”
Alicia looked up from Carl. “Lorenzo, just forget him for now. We have to save Carl and everyone else here first.”
Shyanne started crying. “Please, Mister Carl. I don’t want you to go! I love you!”
Alicia coughed. She had been at this a while. “Let me try.” Tara now was hovering over Carl. Then she leaned down, with Alicia’s acquiescence, and fed Carl fresh air.
As she rose, she coughed, but managed to sputter out, “Damn it, Carl! Don’t go anywhere.” She sucked in more air and then blew it down Carl’s throat. “Carl!” she shouted, “Shyanne’s right here! You want her to lose you? You want her to lose someone…” She cringed. “…someone like her father.”
Alicia quickly intervened, returning to work on Carl while Tara sat back and collected herself.
“Carl,” she said, choking back tears. “You’ve done so much for me and Michael. For God’s sake, if you go now, I’ll never be able to thank you for everything. And we still need you. We all need you. We need you to help us find a new home.”
Silent Interruption (Book 4): Of Tragedy and Triumph Page 3