"The way in's up there," she said, pointing along the back wall of the center. "It's where the old kitchen was. Half of it got buried under the rubble, but I found I could get through."
"What were you thinking of? Does your father know?"
"What he don't know won't hurt him. Things changed for me that night, Devon. I was staying with friends just a block away and I heard the explosions, then later, the shouting and the gunfire. I saw what they did to those poor people. Mendoza shot many of them himself. It could have been me. So, I promised myself I'd stop him, and we formed our group. I knew I'd need to get inside the center someday, so I found a way."
She began moving along the wall, eyes scanning the darkness for signs of any movement.
"You're amazing," Devon said.
She giggled. "You're not so bad yourself."
If only you knew, he thought as he followed her to a point where the rubble seemed to have been piled up next to the first part of standing wall. Between the pile and the brickwork was a small gap. A very small gap.
She slipped through easily, but the raw edges of the bricks scraped Devon's stomach and for one horrible moment he thought he was trapped. Cassie grabbed his shoulders and heaved, and together they pulled him inside. The only light came in through a dusty window, but he could see that they were in the remains of the kitchen. He tried to orientate himself by where it was in relation to the mayor's office but then remembered that the office was now in the rubble.
"Which way?"
"Through here," Cassie whispered. "We got to be quiet as mices, I ain't sure how many are inside."
She crawled along the rubble-strewn floor until she reached the door, then sat with her ear against it. "Can't hear nothin'. C'mon."
If he'd had time to give it some thought, the idea of him—grizzled veteran of the Metropolitan Police Force—following the orders of a teenage woman while trying to infiltrate the enemy's HQ would have seemed ridiculous. But there was something about her. Maybe it was her confidence and determination. Or maybe he was just glad to have someone else giving the orders.
As she opened the door, an amber light leaked in from the hallway outside. He could see the staircase to their left. At the top of the flight, it once led left and right, but the right-hand turning now opened out onto the night. He pulled on her arm.
"How are we going to get up there without being seen?"
She turned around, face pale in the darkness. "We're not. We're going over there."
Devon followed the direction she was nodding in. By the amber light of a gas lamp, he saw a hand-drawn sign that said Superintendent.
"He's probably not in there," Devon whispered. "It's getting late."
"Maybe, but we're bound to learn something, and then we can go find someone who is here."
It had been Cassie's idea to kidnap a member of the occupying forces—the more senior, the better. Devon had been moaning about how hard it was to plan their next move without information when she'd suggested it. To begin with, he'd been dead set against it, but then he imagined his friends from Springs walking into a trap caused by his failure to get intelligence, and all resistance fled.
"Ready?"
Devon nodded. So far, they hadn't seen a soul, though they'd heard footsteps from time to time. He gripped his Glock and followed her as she burst across the corridor and, in one move, opened the door and went in.
"Who the hell?"
A man sat behind a small desk. He was holding an empty glass in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. A tent sign declared him to be Captain Sahi.
Devon leveled the gun at him. "Cry out and I'll blow your head off."
"If you do, you won't get out of here alive." Sahi had recovered almost instantly from the shock and now wore a belligerent expression.
Devon moved behind the desk as Cassie covered him and took the whiskey and the tumbler from Sahi's hands. He didn't look like a captain in any military organization Devon had ever heard of. With a long, non-regulation beard and swarthy complexion, he wouldn't have looked out of place in an ISIS video, and, as Devon stepped back again, Sahi treated them to a look of utter contempt.
"So, what now? Do you intend to extract me, so you can torture information out of me? Yes? Well, that is a plan doomed to failure. And, in any case, I am quite willing to tell you what you want to know."
"And what's that?" Cassie asked. Devon glanced across, surprised to see her trembling.
"You want intelligence about the general. You seek to oppose him, do you not?"
Devon nodded, and Sahi's black eyes swiveled in his direction.
"And you wish to know where he has gone, what he is doing and when he will return? Then I will tell you."
"Why?"
A wide smile spread across his brown face. "Because it will save us all a lot of time and bloodshed if you realize how hopeless your situation is. That way, you can lay down your weapons and seek mercy."
"Mercy? Like those you gunned down after the bombing?"
Sahi sneered. "That is what happens when you oppose us. Work with us and we will be merciful. Some will be executed, but far more will survive than if you seek to fight us."
"Watch him," Devon said before going back to the door and opening it a crack. He peered into the dim hallway. Footsteps echoed from somewhere, but they didn't sound close by. He moved back into the room and positioned himself behind the desk, gun pointed at Sahi's head.
"Now then, my friend, there is no need for this … rudeness," Sahi said. "I will tell you what you wish to know, and then you will leave, agreed? You may bind and gag me, of course."
Devon nodded. "Get on with it. What do you have to say?"
"What do you wish to know?"
"Where is Mendoza headed and where is he now?"
Sahi nodded thoughtfully, like a teacher whose pupil has stumbled upon the right question. "The two are one. He has a base in Pennsylvania, and he is gathering his forces there."
"When will he return?"
Shrugging, Sahi said, "That has yet to be determined, but given the distance he has traveled and how far his forces must come to gather with him, I do not expect him to return for at least a month, perhaps longer. But when he comes, it will be at the head of an army of thousands. There, has that been useful? Will you spare me?"
Devon looked across at Cassie, who hadn't spoken or moved since they'd broken into the office. "We'll go out the way we came in. You take up position across the hall and I'll tie him up. Cassie!" He hissed her name, and she finally seemed to hear him. He repeated the message, then watched as she left.
Sahi's expression hardened as he looked up at Devon. "So, what happens now?"
"Remove your belt and loop it around your wrists behind your back."
"Ah, a professional, I see," Sahi said, much of his former swagger dissolving. When he'd done what he'd been told to do, he turned his back to Devon, who pulled the buckle tight with one hand then, in one movement, swept Sahi's feet away, sending him sprawling to the floor with a yell.
Devon landed on his back, pulling the knife from his belt and placing it against Sahi's neck, listening for any sign that he'd attracted attention. A rookie mistake—he should have gagged Sahi before dropping him. But there was no sound from outside.
"Now, you son of a bitch, you'll tell me everything you know and not just what you want me to hear."
"So, you got rid of your little friend so she wouldn't see what you did to me?" Sahi said, his cheek pressed to the floor.
"You better believe it. Now, start with the specifics—how many fighters have you got in Hope, where are they and what ordinance do you have?"
Cassie waited in the kitchen doorway as the minutes ticked by. She was just about to run back when Devon emerged wearing a grim expression. And with blood on the knife he held.
Chapter 14: Jessie
"Devon!"
It was the last voice he expected to hear, and it turned his insides to ice. "Jessie?"
She ran from
cover, flitting between moonbeams and then throwing herself at him when she was within arm's reach.
"Oh, thank God you're alive!"
"What the hell are you doing here?" he said as she sobbed into his ear.
"I am afraid I couldn't stop her coming with me," Gert Bekmann said as he emerged from the darkness.
Devon, Jessie still wrapped around him, extended a hand to the Dutchman. "Boy, am I glad to see you. But what are you doing here?"
Jessie stepped back. "We came to find you."
"But you're pre—"
"If you say 'pregnant', you'll regret it. Now, let's go somewhere we can talk."
"Hello, Jessie," Cassie said, walking into an embrace. "We can go to the farm. It's about three miles from here, though, and we'll have to walk in the dark."
Devon thanked providence, or whatever divine force had made him turn aside from the direct route back to Miller's Farm to look at the former house of the Bowies. He'd blown it up the last time he'd been here, but he'd felt compelled to look at it again, as if in remembrance. He didn't tell Cassie this, of course. He just pretended he was a sentimental old man (anyone over forty is old to a teenager) and she believed him.
As they'd been turning away, Jessie's harsh whisper had stopped him in his tracks.
1st Street ran parallel to the highway on the extreme edge of Hope, so they headed south past houses that were mainly dark, only the occasional amber glow giving away the presence of living beings behind the drapes.
So far, they'd seen few soldiers on patrol, though Devon now knew that to be a false impression. Sahi had told him everything he'd wanted to know, and a lot he'd rather not have found out, before he died. A black hole opened up in Devon's soul every time he thought about that final, fatal cut to the carotid artery as he held the helpless man down, his lifeblood draining into a pool on the floor. Good God, what had he become?
Of course, it made rational sense. He knew Sahi's type—as soon as he'd been found, he'd have turned the city upside down to find them, and he'd have killed many Hopers in the process, either because he thought they had information or simply because he was a beast. Sahi had thought he'd known Devon's type too—hard on the outside with a soft inner like a Cadbury Creme Egg—but, in those final seconds, he'd come to realize his error in judgment. Too late to save himself.
Cassie had asked him about what had happened, and she was smart enough to know the truth, but they maintained the fiction that Devon had left him tied up. Frankly, he didn't want to talk about it because once he let the demons loose, he might not be able to put them back in the bottle.
1st Street finally ran out, turning into a dirt track that continued south until they were forced to walk along the highway. After walking for an hour or so, Cassie lifted her arm, turning a pocket flashlight on and off in what must have been a pre-agreed sequence because, minutes later, the large form of Elwood Miller loomed out of the darkness.
"Thank God! Your mother is beside herself with worry," he said, directing his attention entirely at Cassie before finally glancing at the others.
"Is that Jessie Summers? Good grief, I see there's a story to tell," he said, looking at Jessie's stomach. "Follow me and we'll get inside."
Mary Miller was waiting inside the door as they arrived. She flung herself at Cassie, tears running down the young woman's back. "Don't you ever do that again, Cassandra Miller! I thought you were caught for sure, or worse. I can't take losin' you as well."
"I'm sorry, Mom," Cassie said, through her own tears. "Devon looked after me."
"Well, I want to have a word with you!" she said, shooting a poisonous look at him through Cassie's curls.
Elwood made soothing noises as he clumsily rubbed his wife's back. "Now, we ain't got time for this, Mary. You know well enough that our Cassie don't do nothin' she don't want to. I reckon we've got cause to thank Devon for bringing her home safely."
Devon flushed, but said nothing. In truth, Cassie had been at least as responsible for their survival as he had, but he decided now was not the time to argue the point.
Mary Miller let her daughter go, wiped her face and shuffled off to clear the kitchen table and throw a couple of logs into the wood-fueled stove.
Devon sat down at the table beside Jessie. "So, what were you doing in Hope?"
"We came looking for you," she said. "I've sat waiting for you too many times to let Gert go without me."
The Dutchman shrugged. "I don't have your skill for evading her, or your determination to deny her what she wants to do. We snuck in behind the Mormon church and made our way to the jail, but we couldn't get too close as there were soldiers all over the place. Jessie guessed you'd escaped, but Martha had asked us check on her old house. Seems she regrets Joe's order to have it blown up."
"You knew about that?" Cassie said, sliding into a chair opposite. Then she saw how Gert's eyes flicked to Devon. "It wasn't you?"
Devon's face told her all she needed to know. "I'm sorry, Cassie. We needed a diversion so Gert could evacuate the mine accommodation. They had dozens of prisoners held there."
"And because of that, Mendoza had dozens more shot."
Devon slumped. "We … we didn't think …"
"No, you didn't think at all, did you?" She leaped up from the table and stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind herself.
"Sorry, my friend," Gert said. "What is this about Mendoza?"
Elwood Miller leaned forward and stabbed a fat finger in Gert's direction. "So you were behind the explosions, were you? Mendoza dragged folks out of their houses and shot them like dogs, he was so angry."
Gert rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I truly am. We underestimated what a monster he is."
"We won't make that mistake again," Devon said. "Look, I don't know about you guys, but I've had enough of hiding in the shadows. It's time we took action."
Miller scratched his chin. "Well, I know Hick and the others are plannin' an attack, maybe to take back the city. But what happens when Mendoza comes back?"
"You're right, Elwood. There's no point in taking the town if we can't hold it, and I know for a fact we don't have the numbers to do that. I found that out in my chat with Sahi. He will come back with thousands and they'll be armed to the teeth. We don't stand a chance."
"Then what do we do?" Miller asked. "Hightail it to Springs?"
Devon shook his head. "That would only delay the inevitable. No, we've only got one option—to strike at Mendoza himself."
"How will that help?" Gert asked. "They have a committee, don't they?"
"They did, but no more. Mendoza has killed or imprisoned every last one of them, except Scriver. Sahi told me that the general rules by terror and paranoia. Eliminate him, and at the very least the command structure would fragment. And perhaps the whole organization would fall apart."
Jessie, perhaps sensing what was to come, asked, "Do we know where Mendoza is?"
"I know where he was going, but whether he's still there or not, I can't say."
"Where?"
"Pennsylvania."
"Wareham?"
"Yeah," Devon said before turning to Gert and Elwood. "Wareham was the first place we came across the Sons of Solomon. It's a former Amish community."
"Are we going?" Jessie asked.
Devon went to tell her she wasn't coming, but the words died in his throat.
Jessie pointed at him. "Don't even bother arguing. If you're going, I'm going. Anyway, I want to see if Noah and Anna are still there."
"This isn't going to be a social call!"
"I know!" Jessie yelled. "But it would be nice, just for once, to find out that someone good survived this mess. And then we can kill Mendoza."
Gert made a doubtful noise. "And how are you going to do that? He is a paranoid man, doubtless surrounded by guards. How will you get close enough?"
"That, my friend, is why you're coming with us. Beauty, brawn and brains—I'll leave you to work out which of us is which. And in the meantime," she ad
ded, turning to Elwood. "Hick and the others are going to need your help to take the city. There's no point in us cutting off the head of the snake if its body is still coiled around Hope."
Miller nodded solemnly. "We'll do what we can. But, for now, I need some shut-eye."
If anything, Cassie was even madder by the time she woke up. Devon couldn't blame her, but he, Gert and Jessie were heading off that day and he had something he needed her to do, so they were forced into each other's reluctant company.
She wasn't there when Devon climbed into the driver’s seat of a battered red Honda Civic that Elwood Miller had filled with the last of his diesel. The trunk was loaded with another ten gallons, but even that would only get them halfway there at best, so they would have to raid Sons of Solomon gas stations. It was an insane mission but going after Mendoza was the only hope Devon could see for victory.
Devon shook Miller's hand through the open window. "Good luck, Elwood. Hick's going to need your help if he's to avoid walking into a trap. And, please talk to Cassie …"
Elwood glanced back at the house. "I'll wait for the fire to die down a little. She's like her mother; neither stops chewin' until the bone's been finished. But you got bigger fish to fry. You keep yourselves as safe as you can, and we'll look after things here."
The car pulled away, sending dust into the dry air as they watched the farm receding.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Jessie said, leaning her elbow out of the window.
Devon, who'd been staring into the rearview mirror, snapped out of his reverie and looked across at her. She looked stunning in the morning sun. A little chubbier around the jawline, but she had a natural beauty that was even more appealing than the cosmetic mask she'd worn before the firestorm. He'd fancied her then; now he loved her.
"I was just wondering whether I'd see this place again," he said.
She grunted. "Yeah, me too. But mainly I was wondering what on Earth we're doing. This is utter madness, you know?"
"You don't have to come."
"And miss out on the insanity? Not this time. What do you say, Gert?"
Last Victory: Book 6 in the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (The Last City - Book 6) Page 11