His Name Was Zach | Book 3 | Their Names Were Many
Page 25
“Fine, that’s beside the point anyway. But were you really going to leave without telling us? Without telling me?”
“No, I was gonna tell you,” Abby insisted. “I literally just picked this stuff up from the armory before you caught me.”
“Great. Then I’m coming with you.”
“No, you can’t.”
Hiamovi blew out a breath in frustration. “And why is that?”
“Because I promised your grandad I’d go alone,” Abby replied, lowering her voice a little. “He’s the one who approved this mission and let me take some gear. But only on the condition that I leave you out of this.”
“Is that man insane? How could he let you do this?” Hiamovi asked, speaking more to himself than to Abby.
“For one, I told him I was going with or without his help. And for two, he agrees with me. It’s safer to go alone.”
“How could it possibly be safer? You could die!”
No, I won’t. Edmund wouldn’t think twice about killing you, but he won’t kill me.”
“What?” Hiamovi asked. He had practically yelled that word, but he composed himself, and continued in a normal tone. “How can you think that? How can you be so goddamn certain that a man you yourself have called ‘murderous’ wouldn’t kill you for trying to destroy his food stockpiles? Abby, this is crazy!”
Abby sighed, and she took Hiamovi’s hands in hers. “I’m sorry, Hiamovi. Really, I am. I know how crazy this sounds, how crazy this looks. But you have to trust me. I just have this feeling of responsibility that’s not gonna go away unless I do absolutely everything I can to stop this battle from happening. And I know that I can, just like I know Edmund won’t kill me. I just…know it.”
“But—“
“And I promise to come back to you. I’ll even pinky-promise.”
She hooked her pinky around Hiamovi’s and smiled at him. Hiamovi couldn't help but smile back.
“Alright,” he said. “I guess I can’t stop you. Are you leaving right now?”
“As soon as I can get Reese saddled up.”
“Are you gonna tell the guys?”
“I think it’d be better for everyone if I just left. You can tell them after I’ve gone, though.”
“I can do that.”
“Oh, and tell Jax he was right. I don’t understand everything going on, but it’s my job to accomplish the mission and to do what’s right, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Hiamovi helped Abby prepare her horse Reese for the trip into Chicago. She still had her sidearm in its holster on her thigh and her combat gloves in her cargo pocket, so all she needed from her pack was a light hoodie for the cool night, which Hiamovi managed to fetch for her without arousing suspicion.
He walked with her in silence until they reached the northern edge of the makeshift camp. “Make sure you’re careful out there,” he told her.
“I’m always careful,” Abby told him with a smile. The best Hiamovi could conjure up was a small, fake smile that barely lasted a moment, so Abby cupped his face in her hand and added, “Hey. I promised to come back to you, and I’m gonna keep that promise.”
“I know you will,” Hiamovi said after a sigh. They kissed each other, then held each other in a passionate embrace. Hiamovi whispered, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Abby whispered back.
Without another word, Abby hauled herself up onto Reese and turned him towards Chicago. She gave Hiamovi one last smile, then nudged Reese with her knees, urging him forward at a trot.
***
Abby kept Reese going at a decent pace until she neared the city limits. She didn’t overwork him, as there was still plenty of daylight left in the afternoon, but she did have to be quick if she wanted to complete her mission in time to prevent the battle.
She didn’t know in which building exactly Edmund’s food stockpiles were kept, but she remembered him telling her that it was right in that area where he had met with her and the others. She did not have a solid plan in mind yet, but she figured this mission was simple enough that she could make it up on the fly.
Reese nickered quietly, as if sensing the underlying frustration in Abby. “I know, this isn’t like me at all,” she said to her horse. “I don’t usually hurl myself into danger without a plan like this. Well, at least not anymore.”
Abby pulled Reese to a stop and looked back over her shoulder, back towards the camp, squinting as the sunlight glinted on the surface of the canal. She could always turn back. No one had sent her on this mission; no one expected her to risk her life like this. She was indeed confident that Edmund wouldn’t kill her, not even if he caught her with a backpack full of explosives. But what if one of his goons put a bullet in her without waiting for Edmund? What if she was wrong about Edmund?
“He could have killed me twice before, but never did,” said Abby as she tried to convince herself of her own reasoning. “He likes me for some insane reason.”
Reese nickered again and tossed his head.
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t have any room to talk,” Abby said. “But this is about more than me and Edmund. I’m trying to save dozens of lives. Hundreds, maybe. That’s my priority here.”
Reese snorted, and Abby could swear he rolled his eyes. “That’s enough sass out of you,” she said to him.
Abby gazed behind her for a few moments more as a gust of wind whipped her ponytail from one side of her head to the other. With a sigh, she turned back to Chicago and gently squeezed Reese with her legs. “Come on, boy,” she said, clicking her tongue.
Eventually, Abby was forced to abandon Reese. Riding into town on a horse was a little too conspicuous, she thought, so she led him into the fenced-in yard of a house they passed. She sat with him for a while as he grazed, preparing her C4 now so that all she’d have to do when she reached her target is place the explosives. She also waited for the sun to begin going down, trying to time it so that she would arrive in the city just as the sun set completely. The cover of darkness would make her job easier, and should still leave her enough time to get back to camp before the attack, she figured.
After making a mental note of the location so she could come back for Reese, Abby continued into the city on foot, a mode of transportation she was well used to by this point in her life.
Not long after leaving Reese behind, Abby saw a river boat in the canal heading towards her, much like the one that had picked them up the other day. This time she was prepared for such an encounter, and hid behind an old, overturned police car until it passed her by. Then, not more than fifteen minutes after the first one, another boat passed near Abby. She began to notice foot patrols, too. Small groups of three or four men roamed the outskirts of Edmund’s town, keeping an eye on things for him.
He must be getting paranoid, Abby thought as she ducked past another patrol. Though the men seemed alert and careful in their watchfulness, Abby had more professional training than all of them combined, and was able to slip past them with only minimal difficulty.
Finally, just as the sun sunk into the western horizon, Abby found herself in a populated area, where a girl walking around with a backpack and a handgun was not so suspicious. She relaxed a little bit, but kept her guard up. This was still Edmund’s town, and though there was a sense of normalcy in the air, she remembered that killing someone for cheating at poker was allowable here.
Abby slowed her pace and forced herself to stop scanning her surroundings as she walked, trying to remain incognito. She stopped at a bar and traded one of the coins Edmund had given her for a bottle of beer that she drank from as she walked. She tried to listen in on some conversations at the bar and on the streets as she went, hoping to get an idea of the general mood of the city since the US military had shown up, but her poor hearing made this impossible.
Most folks didn’t spare a second glance for Abby, she noticed, and so she reached the industrial area without being stopped or bothered. Tho
ugh she had only been here once a few days ago, Abby was certain that there had not been as many people as she was seeing now. Most seemed to be part of security details as they stood outside of doorways or walked around with weapons. Edmund must have expected an attack on this side of town and had beefed up the armed presence.
Before Abby could even formulate her next move, a man with a rifle made eye contact with her and walked towards her. She stopped and crossed her arms in a relaxed manner, trying to make herself appear calm, as if she belonged there.
“What are you doing here?” the man asked.
“I’m supposed to help guard our food, but I’m a little lost,” Abby lied, assuming new folks with guns had been showing up around here every day since she and the Raiders first ran into Edmund.
“More new guardsmen?” the man asked, scoffing. “Don’t know what the hell difference it’ll make if they actually try to hit us here.”
Abby shrugged and said, “I don’t know, man. I just do what I’m told.”
“Don’t we all. Alright, follow me,” the man replied. He led Abby to a large warehouse not far away, told Abby who she’d have to report to, and then left.
“That was easy,” she whispered to herself once the man was gone. She of course had no intention of reporting to anyone here, but she figured that with all the increased activity she’d be able to slip in, plant some explosives, and get out before anyone else started asking questions.
The blackness of night settled in rapidly, and with each passing minute it became harder to see. Some lights inside buildings had been flipped on, but outside the darkness reigned. Abby approached her target building, heading towards the service entrance. She could see only one man standing guard, just outside this door.
“What do you want?” the man asked her.
“Inventory,” Abby replied. “Boss wants to know exactly what our food situation is, in case we’re in for a siege.”
The man shook his head. “Damn, you’ve got a long night ahead of you then. Go on.”
He stepped aside and allowed Abby to walk right on by without so much as a follow-up question or a search of her backpack. Edmund was right, thought Abby, good help must really be hard to come by out here.
The food stockpile that appeared before Abby was enormous. Crates and boxes of all different kinds of shapes and sizes were piled up in a roughly pyramidal shape, taking up most of the open floor space and stretching up towards the ceiling while several refrigeration units and freezers hummed along one of the walls. It looked to Abby like Edmund did indeed have enough food to withstand a weeks-long siege, if it came to that.
But Abby was here to make sure it did not come to that. Wasting no more time, she unslung her backpack and carried it in one hand while unzipping it with the other. Glancing over both shoulders, she reached into the open backpack and retrieved one of her prepared bombs and dropped it into an open container of milled flour. She walked farther down the pile and flipped open the plastic lid of a shipping crate and placed another bomb. She continued this pattern, walking around the entire perimeter of the food mountain and placing bombs inside different crates, a baker’s dozen in total. She then placed the last of her bombs inside a few of the refrigeration units.
Deeming her work sufficient, Abby zipped up her backpack and walked back towards the door she’d come through. The man still standing outside was not what one would call physically imposing, and Abby did not think any lie could convince him that attempting to leave so soon was legitimate, so she opted to make a rather crude exit. She tip-toed up to the man as quietly as she could, then wrapped her arm around the man’s throat, locking in a figure-eight blood choke while pulling him backwards and around the corner.
The man struggled with Abby, but she had caught him by surprise and he panicked, making only the feeblest effort to resist. Seven seconds was all it took for him to fall unconscious. Laying him gently down on the ground, Abby returned to the door to make sure no one saw or heard their brief tussle.
“Coast is clear,” she whispered to herself. She returned to the unconscious man, hauled him up onto her shoulders with some difficulty, then hurried into the dark night. She dropped the man on the ground outside, several feet away from the building and leaning against an old fire hydrant. That should be far enough away that he wouldn’t be seriously hurt in the blast, Abby thought.
She walked away then, looking for a good hiding spot from which to detonate the C4. An old semi-trailer in the parking lot across the street seemed good enough. Abby walked quickly in that direction.
“Stop right there!” a man’s voice beside her said.
Abby stopped and put her hands up, turning slowly to her left. The man who’d guided her to her target just a few minutes ago was now pointing his rifle at her.
“You’re not a new guard, are you?” he asked. But before Abby could try to come up with a lie, he continued. “Yeah, you’re a thief. Went and grabbed some extra food for yourself, didn’t you?”
“I’m just so hungry,” Abby replied, seizing her opportunity to be thought of as a mere thief instead of a saboteur. “Please, I didn’t take much.”
“Save it. You’re in trouble now,” the man said. He looked over both of his shoulders, then added, “Unless you give me whatever you took.”
“What?”
“Give me the goods, and I say I never saw you.”
“Oh. Okay,” Abby replied.
She knelt down and unslung her backpack. Her plan was reckless, but she was in a tight spot here. What other option did she have?
Abby unzipped the backpack and reached inside it, fumbling around for the detonator.
“Here you go,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the plastic device.
***
Edmund eyed the door suspiciously. He thought he’d heard something from outside, but all the music, the raucous drunks, and the dancing girls in his saloon made it difficult to hear anything at all.
“Come on, Edmund. You in or out?” his friend Jack said, sitting across the poker table from him.
“Of course I’m fuckin’ in,” Edmund replied, forgetting all about that noise as he tossed several chips into the large pile at the center. He then scooped up his cards and tossed them face-up on the table.
“Flush, you bitches,” Edmund said proudly.
Jack gave a grin before revealing his own cards. “Full house.”
“Fuck your sister!” Edmund yelled, jumping up out of his chair. The men around the table laughed as Jack raked in his winnings.
“Why don’t you, Edmund? She’s right over there!” one of the men said, and the laughter grew louder. Even Edmund threw his head back and laughed.
“Hey come on, assholes. Leave my sister out of this,” Jack muttered, growing red in the face.
“Hey, Barbie! Why don’t you bring those sweet cheeks over here?” Edmund yelled, getting the attention of one of the scantily clad women over by the bar, all of whom were attempting to solicit some business from the men.
The blonde woman named Barbie, who bore a familial resemblance to Jack, looked to Edmund and replied, “Sorry, baby. All booked up for the night.”
“Tell me truly, Jack. How much does it suck to have such a smokin’ hot sister?” Edmund said as he sat back down in his seat, and the rest of the table laughed again. Edmund grabbed a bottle of bourbon off the table and poured himself another drink.
“Fuck you guys. Come on, who’s dealing?” Jack replied.
Edmund stuck around for a few more hands of 5-card draw poker, hoping to win back some of the money he’d lost, but decided to leave once he’d run out of bourbon. He slammed the empty bottle down on the table and rose on unsteady feet, demanding his companions meet him there again tomorrow night.
A man burst through the front door of the saloon and cried, “Edmund!”
“Aye?” said Edmund. “Fuck you want?”
“We got a problem,” the man said. He jogged up to Edmund and spoke quietly into his ear.
“Yes, sir. We figured you’d like to deal with her personally.”
“Her? A woman did this?”
“That’s right.”
Edmund contemplated this for a moment, stroking his chin. “What color are her eyes?”
The man put his hands on his hips. “You know, I wouldn’t normally remember a detail like that but she’s got these stunning grey eyes. That’s not something you see every day, huh?”
“That fuckin’ lass,” Edmund muttered shaking his head. He turned back to the man and said, “I’m too drunk for this shite. Keep her captive until I send word. And don’t let anyone fuckin’ touch her, aye? Because whatever happens to her I’ll see it done to you. You understand me, lad?”
The man swallowed hard and said, “Yes, sir. I’ll make sure no one even looks at her.”
Edmund clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Good man. Now fuck off.”
The man turned to run off into the night as Edmund remained standing where he was, hands on his hips, and chewing on his lower lip. Every fiber of his being screamed for blood, demanded he rip Abby apart for sabotaging his food supply. But another feeling held him back, the same feeling that stopped him from beating her head open with his baseball bat during negotiations earlier. The same feeling that made him take Abby into his tent before Henry could hurt her seven years ago. He couldn’t explain this feeling, he only knew what it did to him.
It made him protect Abby and keep her from harm.
And he would. At least, he would once he’d had the chance to calm down and regain some sobriety.
***
Hiamovi had never been so distracted before a mission. It was very early in the morning, still black as night, and Abby had not yet returned. There was still time before the assault, but not much.
A flurry of activity surrounded Hiamovi. Thousands of troops prepared for their first major combat operation since this mission began. Hell, for nearly all of them it was to be their first taste of combat ever. Shaky hands pressed 5.56mm rounds into cheap, government-issue magazines. Cigarettes clung to quivering lips as false bravado and bluster intermingled with the nicotine-laced smoke in the air. Corpsmen and medics loaded up on pressure dressings and gauze while chaplains performed Last Rites for hundreds of men and women at a time.