Cam saw Tozier nod in understanding. “Well, that makes sense.”
Cam breathed a small sigh of relief. The doctor was visibly relieved. He really needed to learn to hide his emotions better.
“Except…there is one thing I don’t understand. How did he get that bruise on the back of his head?”
Doc froze and stared at Tozier with a deer in the headlights look.
Cam came to his rescue.
“He probably fell. He was on duty when I found him laid out on the floor. The other guards must have just passed his checkpoint.”
Tozier stared at him with narrowed eyes for a second before Jax intervened.
“It’s a shame what happened. Rawlis was one of our best. Toz, stop questioning them over it. It was clearly a medical issue.”
“All right. I just wanted to make sure,” he said with a warning look at the doctor.
They went back to their conversation once more, reminiscing about old times. Even Tozier and Margot joined in a little.
Eventually, it got late. Tozier left to go to bed and Margot remained behind with Jax.
Cam was worried that he hadn’t drank enough to give them a good advantage in the morning. His words were a bit slurred, but he didn’t seem to be having trouble with his balance.
There was nothing he could do.
He left, Margot shutting the door behind him, but not before giving him a cryptic message.
“Tozier is one you should worry about,” she whispered.
Did she know?
◆◆◆
Cam went to his room and sat on the chair in the corner, his axe and pistol at hand.
In a short hour, he would be joining the volunteer fighters in supply room off the kitchen. He wondered if they would all show.
He got up and rustled around in the dim room, looking for the box of protein bars he found in the store. He thought back to that dog he had killed.
That was something he hadn’t really anticipated. Dogs would be running wild, forming packs. They would become dangerous. Dangerous diseases would proliferate and spread. There would probably be a resurgence of rabies.
He needed to make sure to bring it up to the teams when they got back home.
He chewed, his mind running over the details of the plan yet again, like running a tongue over a sore tooth.
He would meet the fighters, arm them, and send them out to the designated areas. He would find Tozier and Jax and eliminate them. He worried over how the women in the upper corridor were going to react to a change in command.
He hoped they didn’t have access to weapons.
He finished the snack and drank a bottle of Gatorade. He would need to use the restroom, then get his gear on.
He wouldn’t have everything that he was used to having in battle, but he would have enough. He gathered up his sparse possessions into a bag, leaving it resting on the chair in the corner and looked down at his watch.
Time to go
After a quick bathroom stop where he took care of business and pulled back his hair, he left the hallway. He walked softly down the stairs, making sure his footsteps didn’t echo loudly in the barren space. He had his axe but didn’t intend to use it.
Conventionality would be best now, plus he didn’t like using the axe on living people if he didn’t have to.
The hallways were dark, just as he had planned.
Rawlis’s team would be waking up in an hour or so and getting ready for their morning run. McDaniels’s team would already be in place in the supply room. He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake in trusting some of the guards.
He made it to the dark kitchen without incident and looked around the room. He saw no indication that anyone was around. The bulky shapes of the industrial appliances loomed nearby. He walked over to the storage room and knocked three times, then twice, then once.
He waited. Would they answer?
Was there anyone even in there?
The door opened swiftly, and he saw a small mass of people huddling inside, in the dark. He squeezed in and shut the door. Then, he turned on his headlamp and laid it on a nearby shelf pointing up.
It provided enough illumination to make out the scared expressions on some of the faces.
“I’m glad you all came. Today, we are going to remake your community. We are going to give you all a chance to live free and carve out your own place in this world. We will help you as much as we can. Right now, our first task is to take out the opposition. It won’t be easy, but it has to be done to save your families— your friends…even your own lives. So, let’s get this thing done.”
McDaniels made his way to the front and shook Cam’s hand. “I wanted to thank you for coming back for us. When Ed left, I wasn’t sure if he really meant it, that your group really cared enough to come back for a bunch of strangers. These people here are good people, but they are being subjugated by some very bad people. I don’t know if you know just how evil they can be,” he said.
“I know,” Cam assured him with a nod. “Jump up there and let’s get geared up. There is a weapon for each of you, along with plenty of ammo. Please, be safe with these weapons. I have no time to train you on their use, but I have been assured that each of you has at least some familiarity with firearms. I’m counting on you not to injure yourselves, or any other friendlies.”
He got up and removed a panel of the ceiling. He passed down the rifles and ammo, distributing them as evenly as he could. After they were all armed, he checked his watch.
“Okay, the signal for action will be when the second squad is fired upon outside. I have teams set up specifically to take them out and defend the front of the prison. Now, this is very important—do not go through any other exits. The entire perimeter is booby-trapped. Stay inside until this thing is over. I need to be the first one out.”
He watched as they checked and loaded their weapons, clutching them to their chests in the confined space. Some of them were soaked with nervous sweat, but they had a determined look on their faces. He waited as the minutes ticked by.
“You remember your assignments?” he asked them.
They nodded. They were ready to get this over with.
“Okay. Quietly make your way out and to your posts and wait for the signal.”
He switched off the headlamp, opened the door, and crept out. He saw a large figure standing in the shadowy darkness of the kitchen.
He froze.
“Thought you were doing this without me?” he heard a woman say.
“Bev, you need to stay in your room.”
“I won’t. I want to be a part of this. I’d rather die for my freedom than cower behind closed doors waiting for the end.”
He couldn’t argue with that. He felt the same way, and he didn’t own her. She could choose her own path. It’s what they were here for, after all.
“Get her a rifle,” he called over his shoulder. Several seconds later a rifle was handed over.
“You know how to use it right?” he asked.
“Sure do,” she replied. It was good enough for him.
“I want you to guard this exit. Don’t let anyone through. Some may try to escape. Do not let them. Not only do we not want our enemies getting out, we also don’t want friendlies stepping on the mines I placed out there,” Cam explained.
Her eyes widened and she looked at the back door. She nodded understanding. “Okay.”
Cam led the others off through the prison, until finally, it was only him left to carry on his part of the mission. He waited in the faintly illuminated hallway outside Jax and Tozier’s rooms.
The small window at the end of the hall showed the front of the prison, and he could see the squad warming up on the grass. They appeared to all be there.
That was good.
He watched trees, even though his people were undetectable. He knew they were in place and waiting. They were a damned good group of people, and he was luckily to have found them. He hoped he would see them again.
He
would do everything he could to make sure of it.
The squad ran off down the road at a light jog. Cam’s heart sped up as they approached the kill zone. Any second now. Time seemed to slow and warp, and the runners seemed to take forever. He watched, steadying his breathing and trying to control his heart rate.
Adrenaline could help in situations like this, but sometimes it could also hurt.
Suddenly, the loud clattering of machine gun fire echoed at the front of the prison. It came through muffled but noticeable. Most people in the outer hallways would hear it if they weren’t sleeping.
Jax’s door remained closed, and silence permeated the room beyond it. Perhaps he had slept through it? The alcohol could have rendered him less alert than normal.
He turned the knob slowly, quietly. No light shone from the crack in the doorway. He pushed it open a little further and was startled when it was jerked out of his grasp.
A person stood in the dark, clutching a knife in one hand. It was pointed straight at him, and it was bloody.
The figure lowered the knife and stepped forward.
It was Margot. She was wearing a nightgown and her face was pale. She was in shock.
Cam grabbed her, feeling the coldness of her arms, and pulled her out into the hallway near the window.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
“He’s dead,” she told Cam.
“Jax?” he questioned.
“I killed him,” she said.
“Okay, okay. It’s over. You stay here. I’ve got to take out Tozier,” Cam urged.
Her eyes widened and she looked over his shoulder. He ducked quickly and he heard a loud explosion of sound and light echo in the small space. He felt a fire burn its way through his shoulder.
In the split second before he turned to confront the attacker, he saw red bloom on Margot’s chest— saw her eyes widen in pained surprise.
He whirled, kneeling and ducking his head.
He fired instantly at the man holding the pistol. Tozier fired as well. Cam felt another flash of pain, slight this time, graze his side.
Tozier fell to the side, one arm cradled to his stomach, while the other attempted to correct his aim.
He fired again, aiming straight for Cam’s head.
Cam squeezed the trigger a split second before he felt a warm weight knock him to the floor from behind. He twisted and caught Margot as they hit the floor. His rifle clattered loudly on the linoleum covered cement.
He looked over quickly at Tozier and saw that his final round had hit its mark despite Margot’s poor attempt at pushing Cam out of the way.
A large, spreading pool of blood bubbled and leaked from the hole in his chest. Cam could hear the man wheezing and gasping. He had a collapsed lung— and perhaps a damaged heart—and he was losing blood quickly. He wouldn’t make it long.
Cam crawled over, leaving smears of blood on the floor behind him. He took the weapon away from the man’s reach.
He went back to Margot, propping himself up against the wall. She was in bad shape as well. He saw frothy red bubbles leaking from her mouth and knew that she wasn’t going to make it. He wasn’t a doctor, and he wasn’t sure even the doc could fix the damage she had sustained.
He thought about going to get him anyway, but by the time he ran the thought through his head, she was already gone. Cam felt sadness welling up for her sacrifice. She had obviously wanted to help, and she had…but she paid for it with her life.
He looked back at Tozier, who was also fading fast. He scooted over to his rifle, picked it up, and stood. He went to stand over Tozier. He would have to deal with them. He couldn’t afford to turn his back for even a moment.
He heard silence from outside the prison and hoped all went according to plan. He knew Jim would keep a handle on things, but there were always unforeseen complications.
He turned back to Margot, who had started to twitch slightly. He pulled his axe from its sling. He didn’t want to use it, but he didn’t have his knife and he couldn’t take a chance on a ricochet.
He lifted it over his head, lined it up with his target, and closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to see what he was doing.
He had no such compunction about Tozier though. He accomplished that with far more ease.
After he had done his duty, he looked out the window.
Bodies littered the road in front of the prison, but all else was quiet. They were staying concealed in case reinforcements left the prison. There would be no reinforcements if he could help it.
He went into Jax’s room, making sure that Margot had done it right. He flipped on the headlamp and looked down at the corpse of his old acquaintance. He felt a peculiar twist in his stomach.
Jax was a bad guy. He had been for a long time. Yet he had known him from before, and that was rare these days. He wished things could have been different.
He left to go check on the other guards. He wanted to make sure they had followed through.
Angie
In the early hours of the morning, Angie and the others sat nervously in the weeds of the tree line.
Lily and Lane were further back in the trees pulling security. Trap was prone behind the M249, and Angie was sitting close by, ready with the spare ammo. She knew Nick and Monica were in a similar setup across the road.
There was going to be a lot of death today, and she was trying to make peace with it. She knew there was no other way, not without getting Cam and possibly the rest of them killed.
Jim went back and forth between the two teams, occasionally checking on the girls in the back. All was silent, as it had been for the last several days. The birds had gone silent as soon as the teams started moving around.
“Remember, don’t fire until the middle of the squad reaches the signpost,” Jim said, coming around to remind them.
“Roger,” Trap responded.
Angie looked up at Jim and she knew she must look scared because he frowned and looked back to where Lane was kneeling behind them.
“Do you want to go change places with Lane?” he asked.
“No! I’m just nervous,” she assured.
It was true.
Once all this started, she was sure the nerves would fade away. Waiting was just the hardest part. So was the anticipation of killing a large handful of men. They were strangers that had never done anything to her personally.
Yet, Cam had said they were guilty of some bad things…really bad things.
Jim looked at his watch, then bent down to kiss her quickly. “They should be out within five minutes.”
He went off to tell the other team and then all was quiet again.
Angie flexed her fingers, grateful for the warm winter gear they had stocked up on.
By now, she was used to being outside in the cold all the time. That didn’t mean she liked it much though. It would be nice to get back to the cabin and take a hot bath and sleep for two days.
It was during that thought that the front doors of the prison opened, and a group of men emerged.
She couldn’t make out the details of their faces, only that they were all walking slowly to the grass to warm up. It was a strange thing to know the exact hour of someone else’s death. It was unsettling, and sad, and depressing, even if it was necessary.
She watched as they did a few light stretching exercises and then formed up. The man in front called a command, and off they went. Some of the men ran in step with their neighbors, some didn’t. Some were breathing heavily by the time they reached the gate, others looked at ease with the quick pace.
It didn’t matter. Not any of it. A minute from now they weren’t going to exist anymore.
Shit, this is hard.
Angie wasn’t a pacifist.
She knew that violence was necessary— she knew it better than most. She didn’t like it though. Perhaps she was too soft to be on a mission like this. She couldn’t stop thinking about their families.
Did any of them have families still alive? Who we
re they before Z-day?
The harsh staccato sound of machine gun fire pulled her from her morbid thoughts. She couldn’t let them down because of sentimentality. She readied Trap’s ammo as he fired on the jogging column of guards.
Their deaths were not graceful and neat. They didn’t fall slowly to their knees and slump over softly to the ground. Bullets tore through their bodies, jerking and twitching. They smacked pavement— some face first. Blood splattered every inch of the road and some of the grass. Faces were destroyed, torsos mangled.
It was sickening.
As the last body fell and the firing stopped, Angie smelled the thick, metallic odor of blood. Steam rose from the cooling bodies on the ground, and Angie knew she would never be the same again. She had taken part in this, even if it was justified. She owned this tragedy. She wondered if everyone felt that way.
Only a complete psychopath wouldn’t feel even a touch of remorse over the loss of so many lives.
She stared out at the scene. Trap laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, making eye contact.
“I know it’s rough. I remember my first time like it was yesterday. There’re just some things that you don’t ever get over. It will get easier though,” he said reassuringly.
She nodded and stood up, backing away into the trees. Her stomach lurched and she felt vomit rising up her esophagus. She ran to a tree nearby and threw up everything.
She only wished she could purge the bad feelings as easily.
Jim
Nick and Monica had just stopped firing as the last man was shot.
Jim pushed down his horror and his nausea and made sure everything was done according to plan. They needed to move up and take cover closer to the prison. Their job was to secure the front, making sure nobody left the building.
“Lane, take Nick and go back to the Humvees. Bring them up to the gate. We’ll sit outside the gate, away from the destruction zone of the mines,” Jim ordered.
She nodded and they took off together.
“Monica, when the Humvees pull up, I want you to move alongside and give them cover in case of sniper fire from the windows. Trap, you do the same. One on each side.”
Refuge From The Dead | Book 3 | Dead Fall Page 25