“And I’ll be there to lend you one,” she assured him.
They shook then, a normally informal act which somehow held a powerful level of poignancy. Johnny had probably spent most of his life thinking about no one but himself. But when push came to shove, he was top-notch.
Holly was busy helping get Dillon’s things together when Dakota approached.
“Is it time?” Holly asked.
Dakota nodded. “You and Dillon go first. Five minutes later, it’ll be Amy, followed five minutes later by Lauren, the boys and the others.”
“What about you?”
“I’m last,” Dakota said. “Who do you think will be waving everyone on like a third base coach?”
Holly laughed and hugged her. “You’re wise beyond your years.”
“Wisdom comes from pain,” the girl said. “And I’ve had my fair share.”
“You and me both,” Holly replied as she watched Dakota turn and head to her designated position.
Holly gathered Dillon and headed for the southern platform.
“See you around, neighbor,” Brenda said, giving her the thumbs up. Holly returned the gesture.
After crossing from one platform to another, Holly spotted the others, sitting in their regular places. Their anxiety hung in the air about them like a fine mist, their faces wrought with tension.
Ahead was a narrow space―no more than two feet wide―at the end of the platform between the train and the wall. Beyond that point lay the subway tracks and one of the original objectives of this entire journey, Nate Bauer.
Dakota was leaning against the wall, scanning in the opposite direction for guards and anyone else who might give them away. The girl’s left hand dangled at her side. A small wiggle of her fingers there told Holly it was time to go. She climbed through first, throwing her suitcase onto the tracks below. She did the same with Dillon’s bag and then helped them both down. It was difficult and felt awkward, but they had made it. Now came the hard part, waiting around to help the others.
A few moments later, Amy was next, struggling to squeeze her swollen belly through the tight opening.
“Are you okay?” Holly asked, when Amy was down on the tracks next to her.
Amy ran her hands over her stomach. “A little scratched up, but no worse for wear.”
Lauren and the boys came next. That was when Holly heard loud voices from the platform. She went and propped herself up to see what was going on.
An older man was asking Carl and Liz where everyone was going. Dakota was telling him to mind his own business, but he didn’t seem to like being told to keep quiet by someone so young.
Holly helped Liz and Carl, who had opted to skip the drama and push on, climb down.
“That jerk’s gonna give us away,” Carl said, his cheeks flushed.
In the distance, a guard was heading toward them. Holly noticed his head perk up as he keyed in on the commotion. Dakota locked eyes with Holly and signaled for them to leave.
“She wants us to go,” Holly said.
Amy shook her head, adamant. “We aren’t leaving without her.”
Unburdened by any sense of loyalty, Lauren was already heading down the tracks. “Can’t she just catch up once the guard moves on?”
“You go,” Holly told them. “And take Dillon with you. Dakota and I will catch up.”
Emmitt removed his phone and cupped his light, giving them enough to navigate by without announcing their presence in the tunnel. Holly watched them recede into darkness as the argument above became more heated. The old guy wasn’t letting it go, while Dakota was trying to convince the guard the man was crazy and didn’t know what he was talking about. Predictably, this only infuriated the man even more.
Now the guard was playing referee, trying to untangle competing accusations. The man was pointing to the space the others had crawled through. Holly knew she had to move fast or risk being seen. The guard started heading her way, reaching into his utility belt for a flashlight.
Holly sprinted to the other side of the train, wedging herself between the wall and the wheel assembly.
The guard leaned into the tunnel, swinging his light around. In the distance, the sight of Emmitt’s flashlight was hardly visible. But hardly wasn’t good enough. The guard raised his flashlight, the beam swallowed in the tunnel’s darkness. “Hey,” he shouted in surprise and alarm as he began to raise his rifle. Holly stepped out, reaching into her jacket for her pistol. She was in the middle of pulling back the slide when the heel of Dakota’s boot struck the guard from behind, sending him pinwheeling onto the tracks below. He landed with a loud crack as his skull struck a support slab, killing him.
Holly ran over, grabbing his rifle and flashlight. Dakota slid through the opening and hopped down. From above came the harried voice of the man shouting for help. He ran to the opening and peered through. If they did nothing, he would direct every guard in the subway station after them. Holly raised her pistol and shot him in the head. His limp body fell next to the guard.
After that, pandemonium broke out on the southbound platform. Together, Holly and Dakota hurried along the tracks, aiming for the light up ahead. With her fear spiking, Holly’s mind was a flurry of frantic activity. Why had she shot the old man? To give them time to escape or had she simply lost her temper?
They ran for what felt like forever, fighting to keep their footing in this strange environment, only partially lit by the bobbing light in Holly’s hand. When at last they reached the others, the group turned toward them.
“We heard a gun go off,” Carl said, wheezing for air. “Did the guard fire at you?”
“He was about to,” Dakota said, without elaborating. She and Holly exchanged a knowing look. “Washington Station’s still a ways,” Dakota told them, pulling ahead. “We better hurry. The rest of the guards are surely close behind.”
“Perhaps closer than you think,” a strange voice said from out of the darkness. Laser pointers cut through the still air, illuminating each and every one of them. “Place your weapons on the ground or I’ll have you all killed. Do it now!”
There had to be at least ten of them. And Dakota and Holly were the only ones armed.
Slowly, they set their weapons down and raised their hands. A man in a sleek black suit stepped into the light. Apart from a missing left ear, his face was ruggedly handsome and distinctly European.
“Wise decision,” he told them, as two guards rushed forward and seized the guns they had dropped. The source of his accent was quickly becoming clear. He was probably Russian. And the expensive suit only boosted her suspicion he was an organized crime boss. “I’m afraid none of you were given permission to leave the shelter. There are rules and when rules are broken, chaos ensues.” In the distance, the faint sound of cries could be heard. “My operation was running just fine before this little stunt. I’m a businessman, which is to say, I’m very reasonable. I understand you would like to leave. I also understand you likely don’t have the fees required to purchase your freedom. That’s not a problem. If any of the women would like to pay with services, that can be deducted from what you owe. But as of now, whatever you thought you needed to pay has just tripled.”
Amy winced, holding Emmitt close to her.
“Except for the pregnant lady, of course,” he said, as if to reassure them. “Because we may be many things, but monsters we are not.” He turned to the guard standing next to him. “Dimitri, take them―”
Just then, Dimitri’s radio came to life, babbling in a foreign language none but the mobsters understood. He turned to his boss. “Sergei, Lev is dead. They found his body on the tracks.”
“Perhaps that was the shot we heard?”
Dimitri shook his head. “No, they executed an old man who was trying to report them.”
Amy’s features clouded over with a look of surprise and disapproval.
Sergei took Lev’s rifle and pulled back the charging handle. He swiveled the weapon before the group, their faces wincing whenever the barre
l crossed over them.
“Don’t do it,” Lauren said, her voice a tight ball of emotion.
Sergei swung and shot her once in the chest. Lauren fell. Amy, Holly and the others gasped, clinging to those around them. Sergei then spun and shot Liz and Carl. The kids burst into tears, grasping onto Lauren’s lifeless body. The shock and horror of the situation was too much.
“Enough,” Dakota shouted, not caring if she was next. “You’ve made your point.”
Sergei centered her in his crosshairs. She didn’t flinch.
“This one has attitude,” he said, bellowing laughter, his expression slowly turning dark and frightening. “I like that. A lot. Dimitri, make sure the girl’s locked up tight with the others. I’ll save her for later.” He turned to the other guards. “The rest of you, come with me. We have an appointment to keep at Washington Station.”
Chapter 27
Nate and the members of the Citadel team had just arrived at Washington Station when Colt looked around. “Hey, where’s your dog? I thought he was right behind us?”
Shaking his head, Nate said, “First off, he’s a wolf. Second, he does his own thing. I’m just the guy who hopes he doesn’t get hurt.”
“I was the last man into the station,” Brooks said. “I called after him, but he wouldn’t come down. Took off running.”
But truth be told, Nate was far too busy checking his weapons and fretting over his family to let an idiosyncratic canine worry him.
That concern was only magnified when they heard the terrible echo of gunfire reverberating from the northbound tunnel. The series of sharp cracks that travelled through the passageway chilled the blood in Nate’s veins.
“Grand Station’s that way, isn’t it?” Colt wondered, clearly worried.
Nate didn’t bother answering. He bolted forward, the rest of the men following close behind. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go down.
Nate stomped through the dark tunnel with nothing but the light at the end of his rifle to guide him, Colt’s story of his family’s murder looping through his mind. He could only pray that Sergei hadn’t gone and done something stupid.
Bursting with adrenaline, Nate soon found himself far out front. A handful of bobbing lights in the distance signaled a group was approaching. He immediately went dark and waited.
Was this Amy, Dakota and the rest of his family approaching? Or was it someone else?
The lights were now a hundred meters away and Nate caught the muffled sound of a male voice.
Colt arrived then and dropped to one knee beside him.
“I’m guessing you don’t have any nightvision gear,” Nate said.
“It’s on our Christmas list,” Colt assured him. “We been too busy stockpiling beans and bullets.” He motioned to the earpieces they were all wearing. “I’m afraid this comm system was the most high-tech toy we had on hand.”
The others arrived a moment later, breathing hard.
“Man, Brooks, chew a mint or something, dude,” Walker said, grimacing. “Your mouth smells like a sewer.”
Brooks exhaled into the palm of his hand and brought it to his nose, wincing.
“Quiet down,” Colt said, ordering them to fan out to form a firing line.
If these happened to be the bad guys, Nate could see there wasn’t going to be much in the way of cover. The approaching group was now fifty yards out.
“We may not have NV gear,” Colt told him. “But we do have this.” He plucked a chunk of plastic off his belt that was shaped like a softball.
“The heck is that?”
“I call it ‘the disco ball’. Think of a flashbang, but with lots of flash and no bang.” He pressed a button with his thumb which turned red and started to blink.
Nate was still processing all this when Colt rose up and hurled the non-lethal device into the air at the oncoming group. If it was his family members, they would be startled and confused. No harm, no foul. But if it was anyone else…
The disco ball landed with a hollow plastic tink. It fell a few feet short but rolled the rest of the way in. At once the tiny thing exploded as powerful beams of light, ten million candles strong, pulsated in every direction, transforming the subway tunnel into the most intense rave Nate had ever seen. The only thing missing was the loud thump of techno music.
Ahead, the lights also illuminated eight men in black and white army fatigues, recoiling from the blinding rays. Nate quickly realized that Colt’s little gizmo was just as effective at distracting them as it was the enemy. Flashbulbs of iridescent light hampered his vision as both sides opened fire.
One of Sergei’s men kicked the disco ball back in their direction. Not that it mattered all that much since it wasn’t designed to incapacitate, but to neutralize an enemy’s numerical advantage.
The deafening sound of gunfire echoed off the arched walls of the subway tunnel as rounds split the air around them. Muzzle flashes from the rifles only added to the light show. It was by far the most chaotic gun battle Nate had ever seen.
Rolling to one side, he squeezed off a handful of rounds and watched as they impacted one of Sergei’s men, rippling the camo shirt he was wearing. The man hung in midair for a moment, his collapse reduced to a series of macabre snapshots by the pulsating light.
Rounds ricocheted off the walls and the ground around Nate. This was a knock-down drag-out fight and he was determined to prevail.
Quickly swapping magazines, Nate caught sight of a man who wasn’t dressed like the others. Instead of cammies, he was wearing a dark suit. The guy grabbed two of his men and ushered them through a side door. Two others tore off into the darkness, leaving three of their comrades dead.
Just then the disco ball shut off. Colt had a red filtered light he switched on to take a quick accounting of his men. “Anyone hit?”
“I think we’re good,” Walker said, blood running down the side of his face where a bullet had split his scalp.
“Ash, throw a quick bandage on that, will you? When you’re done, you, Brooks and Walker press down this tunnel. Nate and I will rendezvous with you at Grand Station.” Colt waved a finger. “Once there, if you encounter any more hostiles, watch your fire. That place is crawling with civilians.”
The men nodded.
By the time Colt was done addressing his men, Nate was already pulling open the side door, his pistol in hand. It looked like this was some sort of service corridor, normally a maze of narrow hallways providing repair teams access points to areas between subway stations.
With both hands on his SIG, Nate swiveled his tac light, slicing a path through the gloom as he weaved around one bend after another.
That they had encountered Sergei and not his family in the tunnel did not bode well for the execution of their escape plan. That sinking feeling only got worse when he recalled the shots they’d heard earlier.
Nate and Colt were coming up behind him when Ash’s voice came over the earpiece. “We’ve got three civvies dead over here. Looks like an execution. Two female, one male.”
Nate’s heart dropped into his knees. “Was one of them pregnant… or a teenager?” he asked, dreading the answer he feared might be coming back.
“Negative. She looks middle-aged. The other two appear to be older.”
Lauren, Carl and Liz? he wondered, sickened.
He prayed he was wrong. And prayed harder that if he was right, Amy, Dakota and the others were still among the living.
Chapter 28
“Get off of me,” Dakota yelled as the guard grabbed hold of her shirt and hauled her back onto Grand Station’s southbound platform. Holly, Amy, and the three boys were similarly yanked up.
“Be careful,” a woman said, stepping forward. “Can’t you see that woman’s pregnant?”
The guard closed his gloved hand around her face and shoved her back. The woman tumbled into the crowd gathering behind her.
Brutal as it was, the move seemed to have the desired effect. The murmur of questions and complaints c
oming from the stirring refugees fell silent.
Holly felt like a criminal as she and the others were perp-walked through the station.
Suddenly, from out of the tunnel came the sounds of gunfire. For a moment, everyone paused and looked back, including the guards. The staccato was incessant and went on for what felt like forever. Then just as quickly the tunnel grew quiet.
The blood drained from Amy’s face. She knew what that silence meant. That Nate, all alone and outnumbered, had likely been overwhelmed and killed by Sergei and his goons. First her sister-in-law, then her neighbors and now this. The two young red-headed boys, Hunter and Emmitt, were still in shock, their tiny faces ashen.
They were marched through the station and up to the mezzanine. A metal door along the north wall opened into another corridor and a series of administrative offices. At the end of the hallway was a staff break room. A picnic bench sat in the middle of a nondescript room. It looked and smelled like a glorified prison cell. There was a small bathroom off to one side, although without running water, it wouldn’t do them much good.
One by one they were shoved in. Amy too, who Dakota managed to catch before she hit the ground.
“Even hyenas have more compassion than you,” the girl shouted at them.
The guard sneered and was about to close the door when his mic came to life. “Vasily, what is your status?”
“We’ve got them locked down, boss,” Vasily assured Sergei. “They won’t be going anywhere.”
“Good,” came the breathless reply. It sounded to Holly as though Sergei was really hoofing it. “Get everyone into position on the double. We’re on our way, but the ambush didn’t go as planned.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re about to have company.”
Chapter 29
Nate and Colt pressed forward, wary of a potential ambush around every corner. He had seen how quickly Sergei and his men had run off. Did that make them cowards, or were they more interested in heading back for a bloody last stand on home turf?
America Offline (Book 2): America Offline [System Failure] Page 17