"Chain Reaction" Power Failure Book I

by Andrew Draper

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “It’s time to go.” Trish said as she and Clark gathered a few items seeming out of place in the abandoned factory’s derelict office.

  The four moved out into the now-freezing air on the landing and began making their way down the ancient stairs. Stepping carefully on each groaning tread, they descended toward ground level with Clark leading Aaron, followed by Jenny, then Trish.

  Sensing he wouldn’t get a better opportunity, Aaron knew he had to do something to free himself and Jenny before it was too late. Heart hammering with a flash of hot adrenaline, he shouldered Majors with all the force he could muster, slamming him into the wall, while simultaneously wrapping his hand around the revolver’s cylinder and twisting his captor’s wrist. The sudden move had both desired and undesired effects.

  Banking on the miniscule element of surprise he achieved, Aaron used leverage and physics to break Majors grip on the handgun. Unfortunately, it also had the effect of unbalancing both men on the ancient stairs and sending them tumbling head-over-heels two flights to the ground.

  Rolling to one knee, Aaron assumed a defensive crouch. He immediately snapped to the attack after the cold floor broke his descent, raising the pistol in one swift, fluid motion. He drew a bead between Major’s eyes.

  The fall did no real damage to Majors. Rising back to his feet, he dusted himself off and looked back up toward his accomplice. He smiled slightly before staring back at the man now holding the gun on him. “That was not all that smart.”

  Aaron heard the tell-tale snap of the switchblade and a thread of panic raised its ugly head as he considered the possibility that Trish might just kill Jenny in retribution for the attack. Pushing that wholly unpleasant thought aside, he watched Majors sweep the room with a languid pass of his arm. The rogue Army Ranger’s voice boomed across the cold space, calm and controlled.

  “Where are you going to go?” he said. “My partner still has the doctor.’

  “And I have the gun,” Aaron said, answering the man’s challenge. “Release her.”

  “Give me back my weapon,” Majors said, the arrogant confidence in his words stoking Aaron’s increasing anger even further. “You won’t leave without her and I’ll have Trish slit her throat if that pistol is not back in my hand by the count of three.”

  Aaron looked up the staircase, seeing the two women stopped on the stairs just below the second-floor landing.

  “Don’t do it!” Jenny shouted.

  Trish yanked violently on Jenny’s long hair, exposing her delicate neck. Aaron saw her eyes go wide with fear as the cold steel of the knife touched her throat.

  Turning back to Majors, he pulled back the hammer on the .357, watching the cylinder rotate into firing position. “And if I blow your head off?”

  “The doctor still dies.” Majors said flatly as the corners of his mouth pulled up into a small, menacing grin.

  Aaron quickly shifted his focus, and his aim. The barrel of the revolver tracked the pair’s trip down the stairs.

  “He’s absolutely right,” Aaron said, raising his voice toward Trish. “But, are you as willing to die as he is to kill?”

  “You won’t shoot me,” she said, tilting her head toward the hostage in her grasp. “You might hit her.”

  “Wrong.”

  The warehouse exploded with the concussion of the Magnum’s blast. He looked past Jenny to see Trish, her face frozen in surprise, as she slid down the wall, dragging a wide red smear behind her. An instant later, a searing heat ignited in his right side, burning through to his back.

  “Get down!” He screamed at Jenny, rolling to his left before Majors could get off another shot.

  The magnum roared again, sending his sinister adversary scrambling for cover.

  “Jump!” He yelled. “Now!”

  Springing off the steps with the dexterity of a cat, Jenny landed next to him in a low crouch.

  Seeing Majors dive and roll behind some debris, he took the opportunity to grab his charge by the arm and the pair sprinted back through the darkness toward the exit.

  Running and firing at the same time, Aaron’s two successive shots missed Majors by fractions of an inch, shattering the bricks of a nearby pillar. The flying shrapnel chased Majors behind a massive milling machine, out of the line of sight.

  Finally reaching the exit, the fleeing pair burst into the sunlight, slamming the door behind them. They crossed an open lot adjoining the factory, hiding behind the rusted wheel of an abandoned railroad car. Both gasping from the exertion of their escape, they paused while he got his bearings. Flipping the Magnum’s still-warm cylinder out, he grimly confirmed only two live rounds remained, each one clearly discernible by the absence of an indentation on the primer cap.

  He took Jenny’s arm in a firm grip, checking the door for signs of pursuit. “We’ve got to move…now.”

  Running from cover to makeshift cover, he led her away from the vacant lot toward the suddenly-present hum of street traffic. Looking down the road, he saw an intersection about one hundred yards to his left. The pair moved quickly toward the crosswalk and the traffic waiting for the light to change.

  Aaron risked another glance over his shoulder, seeing Majors’ convertible emerge from behind the loading dock. He broke into a run, quickly studying the cars waiting at the light, searching for the oldest one possible. He turned again to see Jenny lagging a few steps behind. “Step it up,” he said, pointing at the car rapidly coming up behind the fleeing pair. “We’ve got company.”

  Walking past several newer vehicles, he grabbed the door handle of an ancient pick-up truck. Finding it unlocked, he pulled it open, ignoring the startled shouts from the driver as he yanked him from the truck then slid behind the wheel himself.

  “Get in!” he yelled at Jenny, watching the assassin’s car burst through a chain-link fence, heading straight for them.

  Jenny climbed into the passenger side and slammed the door with a loud bang. Seeing the convertible in the rear-view mirror, Aaron floored the accelerator and ran the red light, shooting across the intersection. Horns honked angrily as a speeding car careened off the road, narrowly missing them, the tires screeching in protest.