A Powerless World | Book 1 | Escape The Breakdown

by Hunt, Jack

  “No, that’s what I’m telling you.”

  “You’re telling me?” He snorted.

  Dan looked off toward his deputies who were waiting for him.

  “Let’s get something clear. I have a job to do. We have a huge challenge before us. This is just the beginning. What I did tonight was not about you. It was about this community, the cities and towns in this county that I’m sheriff over. So regardless of blood, if you ever come down to the department again and try to pull a bullshit move like that so you can get back at the Rikers, I will have you arrested. Am I clear?”

  “Of course… cousin!” he said with a smile but disdain in his tone.

  “You have yourself a good evening.”

  Dan walked across the bridge toward his deputies, clutching Ryland’s ring in his pocket. There was no way in hell he was handing that over. Not now. Not ever. Whatever had happened between the Rikers and Stricklands, it was done and over with — he hoped, though deep down he knew it had only just begun.

  NINETEEN

  ALICIA

  Los Angeles

  The damage was brutal. Alicia had propped Daisy up and was tending to her battered face with a wet cloth when Daisy lifted her shirt and showed the bullet wound. She’d been shot in the lower abdomen and was losing blood fast.

  “Tell me what to do,” Alicia asked. She had no medical background, no idea of how to treat gunshot wounds. Who did, unless a job required it or they had an interest in first aid? Face swollen, right orbital bone shattered, lip split, nose broken, coughing blood — Daisy was a mess.

  “There’s nothing you can do.” She groaned, looking at her with one partially open eye. “You tried to help. You could have run off. After what I did. Why did you stay?”

  Alicia stared. “I don’t know. Maybe it was the right thing?”

  Daisy nodded slowly. “The key to the handcuffs. Get it out.”

  She rolled ever so slowly and Alicia took it out of her back pocket and Daisy inserted it into the lock. The cuffs fell away and as Alicia rubbed her wrists, Daisy said, “Would you do me a favor? In the living room is a small box on the counter. Marble. Get it for me.”

  “Okay, um, hold this,” Alicia said, taking the folded kitchen cloth and placing it on the wound that was blossoming with blood. It was the only thing she could think to do to stem the flow. Daisy held it while she frantically searched the living room for the box. When she returned, Alicia dropped to a knee and placed it in her hands.

  “Here you go.” She looked up. “Daisy?”

  Daisy’s head was slumped to one side. Alicia sat there staring, taking it all in. Her eyes shifted to the heavy marble box. She cracked it open and inside found Polaroids. Photos of Daisy and who she believed to be her family. She was smiling. Happy. Young. A far cry from her bounty hunter days. Alicia looked at her again. She’d known she was dying. She’d wanted to see her family one more time before she let go.

  Whether it mattered or not, Alicia closed the box, laid it in her lap and wrapped Daisy’s fingers around it. Next, she ran a hand over her face to close her one eye. The door to the apartment was still open, several neighbors were standing in the hallway looking at her. “What are you staring at!?”

  They turned and walked away.

  Shock took hold, paralyzing her right where she sat even as the sound of chaos intensified outside. Her mind was telling her to run, to get out, move as far away from there as possible. If Bratva knew about Daisy’s apartment, they were out searching for her. The sooner she could get out of the city the better. But she couldn’t move. It wasn’t fear. She was drained of energy. Her back was in agony from hitting the table, and a piece of glass was embedded in her arm, the pain was excruciating.

  Managing to summon the strength to get up, she stumbled into the kitchen and over to the sink where she searched the drawers for anything she could use to pull out the shard. The only tool available was a pair of steel tongs. Alicia used scissors to cut the sleeve of her jacket around the wound. She took hold of the protruding jagged shard and took a few deep breaths then pulled. It felt like her arm was on fire. She let out a loud cry, tears welling in her eyes. The tongs slipped off the glass which remained embedded. It felt like the other end of it was up against the bone in the upper part of her forearm.

  She cursed loudly, smashed an angry fist against the counter, and then tried again.

  This time instead of holding the long handle, she took a piece of paper towel and gently wrapped it around the glass to create some friction. Then she attached the tongs and held on to the end part. She wailed as she yanked it hard. This time it came out, the glass clattered on the tiled floor. She stuck her arm into a bowl of water and washed the wound.

  “Alicia?”

  “In here,” she said.

  Her head turned at the sound of pattering dog paws.

  Colby appeared with Kane by his side. He glanced at her then at the Russian.

  She slumped down to the floor, gripping her arm. As shock took over, Alicia felt nauseous and threw up. Colby hurried over and propped her up. He removed his backpack and took a water bottle and brought it to her lips. She took a mouthful and then spat it out to clear away the acid.

  Next, Colby began to tend to her wound.

  “How’s the head?” she said, bringing a hand up to his.

  He pulled his head away. “Painful.”

  “I’m surprised you survived that.”

  “Yeah. You and me both.”

  Alicia looked at his dog. That damn dog.

  “Kane lead you here?”

  “No, Manny did. He survived for a while. He’s dead now. They killed him too.” He paused for a second. “Look, we can’t stay here long. They’ll return.” He squeezed out a layer of ointment, covered the wound in gauze and then began wrapping her arm with a bandage.

  All the while she looked intently at him.

  He noticed.

  “What?” He asked.

  “Nothing.”

  He stopped. “Spit it out.”

  “Who do I remind you of?”

  “What?” Colby looked up while he continued.

  “Daisy. She said that you were going to release me because I remind you of someone. Who’s she talking about?” He slowed wrapping the arm and then stopped, breaking his gaze.

  “Just someone from a long time ago… but that’s not why I uncuffed you.”

  He turned and collected a pin.

  “Then why did you?”

  He finished wrapping, then used the pin to hold the loose part in place. “I told you why. The city is going to hell and getting paid isn’t exactly priority. Getting out is. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. If you want to come with me, that’s your choice. I have a home in the Simi Valley, it’s northwest. About forty miles from here on the outskirts of the city. Without a car it will take at least …” He stopped and glanced at his watch. “Thirteen, maybe ten hours if we move now.”

  “Hours? I’m exhausted.”

  “Well you can’t stay here. Look, I can get you out of the city, from there you can make your own way.”

  “And you?”

  “I’ll figure that out later.”

  Colby rose and tossed a bloody rag in the sink, then walked over to the Russian guy and took a look at him. He was a mean-looking bastard. He rifled through his pockets and removed gun magazines.

  “He dropped it,” she said, getting up. “The gun.”

  Colby searched for a while using a flashlight and found the handgun beneath the drapes. He collected it, took out the mag, then palmed it back in and placed it in the back of his jeans. After that he went over to Daisy and removed her ballistic vest and handed it to Alicia.

  “Put this on.”

  “Why? It didn’t help her.”

  “It’s better than nothing. Put it on.”

  She slipped into it and wrapped the Velcro straps around her to hold it in place. It was a tight fit but would have to do.

  “Let’s go.”
>
  As Colby passed by Daisy, he looked as if he wanted to say something but he didn’t. Despite what she’d done to him, Alicia got the feeling that he cared for Daisy. That his history, as shallow as it might have been, meant something. The two of them were odd. Both were guarded, driven, implants in the city.

  Once out of the building they walked in silence. They headed north up to Wilshire Boulevard. She still hadn’t learned all the streets of the city. “I’m glad you know where you’re going. Been here two months and I still get lost.”

  “What work did you do for money?” he asked.

  “I worked for Madeline. The woman I stayed with. We did house cleaning.”

  “Figured. Let me guess, it was all cash under the table.”

  She nodded as they made their way down the sidewalk, crossing the street and zigzagging around crashed vehicles. Now and again they would take shelter in the recessed steps of stores as the sound of gunfire got too close. It was like wading through hell. Smoke, and fire licking up into the night sky, an eerie nightmare. The smell was toxic. Wilshire Boulevard would take them west past opulent hotels, theaters and multiple houses of worship before they reached the luxurious homes found in Beverly Hills. From there they would go north until they reached Ventura Boulevard.

  “So who is she?”

  “Who?” Colby asked, half paying attention, scanning the road and directing them. He kept Kane by his side with the leash and a hand on his gun.

  “The woman I resemble.”

  He scoffed. “She was playing with you.”

  “So there was no one?”

  “I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

  A few seconds passed.

  “A wife? A girlfriend?”

  “What part of I don’t want to talk about it do you not understand?”

  “Sorry. Just making conversation.”

  She let it go. A few minutes passed and then he said, “She’s a woman I was seeing back in my hometown.”

  “Which is where?”

  “Humboldt County.”

  She wasn’t familiar with it and he noticed. “It’s about 600 miles from here in Northern California, 300 miles north of San Francisco, where all the redwoods are. You not heard of it?”

  “I never really ventured beyond Seattle.”

  “Well, you’re not missing much. My family live in the Emerald Triangle,” he said.

  “Now that I’ve heard of that.” She glanced at him. “Cannabis, right?”

  Colby gave a nod. “The pot growing heart of the country.”

  “So what was her name?”

  He was about to reply when someone opened fire. Rounds punctured a vehicle near them. He grabbed her and dragged her down. Kane barked furiously as glass shattered on the vehicle, shards exploding. It took only a few seconds to realize whoever was shooting was trying to hit them. He peered over and saw several men fan out. The rest of the people on the street scattered.

  “Do you know how to fire a gun?” he asked, taking out the extra one he’d taken from the Russian.

  “No.”

  “Great.” Colby strained his neck and looked over, then returned fire and struck one of the guys in the throat as they were creeping across the street with a rifle in hand. The guy hit the ground screaming and another barrage of gunfire occurred. “Listen, it’s pretty straightforward.” He handed her the gun that was foreign to her. “This is a Sig Sauer P320. First, don’t point at me. Second, it holds 17 rounds.” More bullets erupted and instinctively they ducked even though they were shielded by the steel of the car. “When the magazine is empty, the slide will be locked back. Press this to eject the mag, and then palm in the next,” he said, giving her another magazine. “Once in, release the slide then…”

  More gunfire and he had to reengage.

  As he was doing that, Alicia fired the handgun twice, taking out some guy who was arcing his way around. “Like that?”

  “Shit. You’ll do just fine. Just don’t aim at me.” He pointed ahead. “You see the church? That’s where we’re going.”

  “Why there?”

  “Because these cars aren’t great cover.”

  That was obvious as another slew of rounds showered them in glass. “Stay low. Move fast. Take Kane with you. Go! I’ll cover you.”

  “And who covers you?”

  “Just move,” he said, handing her the leash. She burst out from the cover and with Kane tugging like mad at one hand, she squeezed the trigger twice in the direction of the shooters, not expecting to hit anyone but perhaps give Colby a few seconds’ head start. She didn’t look back but ran at a crouch as gunfire erupted behind her.

  St. Basil Catholic Church was a mammoth building with a high steeple. She sprinted up the ten-plus steps and burst through the huge double doors to find the place crowded with people seeking shelter. The startled and scared look on their faces only grew worse as Colby came running in behind her, slammed the door shut and locked it.

  “Keep moving. To the back. Go.” His voice echoed loudly.

  That’s when Colby saw them.

  A priest hurried down the long aisle toward them. “You can’t be in here with those,” he said, pointing to the gun. “This is the house of God.”

  “Well, I’m sure God would rather I be in here than out in that hell,” Colby said, brushing past him. A staccato of gunfire at the door was met by Colby returning a few defensive rounds. Each one echoing loudly. Women and children screamed, ducking down behind the rosewood pews as the two of them hurried up to the altar. “Priest. Is there a back entrance to this place?” The priest wasn’t listening. He was down on his knees praying hard. Colby grabbed him by the arm and lifted him. “Please. I’m trying to get this lady to safety. We just need somewhere to hide for now.”

  The priest looked at him, then her, then his eyes fell on Kane and his face softened.

  Because he hesitated, Colby turned to explore the church, but the priest must have seen the light as he hollered, “Follow me,” and led them to the back. The church was huge with cathedral ceilings and rose-colored windows depicting Christ and the saints. At first he guided them back through a narrow corridor of worn carpet, past offices toward a set of double doors. But when they heard angry voices beyond, and the doors shook, and then a few rounds, they turned.

  “Anywhere else?”

  He nodded, and led them to a storage area where they kept stacked chairs, boxes, and sacred vestments, vessels and other items. The room was close to the sanctuary and while it didn’t offer a view of the inside of the church and the people, they could hear them. “No other places?” Colby asked.

  He shrugged. “This is it.”

  “Thank you,” Alicia said sliding in between the chairs and making her way to the back as the priest locked the door. Colby wasn’t as convinced. The way the priest looked at him. There was clear disdain even if he was a man of the cloth. No sooner had the door closed than they heard the hostiles gain entry to the church. Screams followed by further gunfire.

  Breathing hard, crouched in the darkness, they waited, Alicia prayed under her breath. She’d grown up in the faith. A heavily religious environment where faith was forced upon her. Although she didn’t practice it, in times of need she’d always called upon God. She glanced at Colby. It was clear he wasn’t a religious man.

  “Do you pray?”

  He smiled. “I’m not against the idea of a God, but I’ve seen too many bad things in this life to warrant worshiping one. Forgive me if I don’t rely on words to save me now.”

  “Where are they, priest?” a voice bellowed.

  “Please. All these people are seeking the protection of God.”

  “Protection.” A round erupted, Colby could only assume they’d killed him based on what they said next. “A woman and man entered with a dog. Where are they?”

  TWENTY

  JESSIE

  Humboldt County

  She was furious. Martha Riker had a temper on her that could rival any man’s. Rumor had i
t that two drunken men from Garberville had tried to take advantage of her on the way back from town one evening. Their bodies were found off the Alderpoint Bridge, throats slashed and pants bloodied. Upon performing an autopsy the medical examiner found their genitals in a place they shouldn’t have been. For that reason and many more, Jessie listened when spoken to, and treated women with the utmost respect.

  “Get down to your uncle’s and collect those supplies.”

  “But the sheriff will probably stop by his place.”

  Martha took a sip of her bourbon and set the glass on the counter. “Exactly. Even more reason you go now. Take your brothers and don’t get sidetracked. You hear me?”

  He gave a nod and backed out of the cabin. His brothers were on the porch with the rest of the family. Miriam glanced at him as he stepped off the porch. “Where you going?” Everyone had gathered to discuss the blackout. The visit from Humboldt’s finest had put them all on edge. With the power out and the Stricklands aware of their crime, they had to be extra vigilant.

  Jessie jerked his head. “Zeke, Lincoln, Dylan.”

  “Can I come?” Miriam asked.

  “No, you’re staying here. Mother wants your help around the house.”

  “I don’t see why you always get to go and I’m here.”

  “Because I told him,” Martha said, standing in the doorway. “I need you to help your other brothers secure the farm.”

  “For what?”

  “Just do it.”

  Jessie glanced at Miriam and smiled. He had six sisters: Alana, Laura, Ellen, Annalise, Jordan and Miriam. Out of the six, Miriam was the only one that hadn’t married or had kids. She’d been a tomboy all her life, never one to run with the girls. She’d been the first to learn how to fire a gun, fish, hunt and ride a four-wheeler. In many ways, she reminded him of his mother minus the mean streak. The only thing soft about her was her heart.

  Cautious of being spotted, they took a different route down the mountain. Their arrival at Alby’s wasn’t greeted with the same warmth as before due to the late hour. There were only two things that man enjoyed more than food and that was his whiskey and sleep. Jessie threw up his hands. “Hey, I’m sorry, Uncle, she told us to bring it up. Has Wilder been by?”