A Cruel and Violent Storm

by Don M. Esquibel

  “I did what I had to,” Frank yells over the tumult. “I told you, I’m done being their pawn. Now you must make that choice for yourselves. Join me and take back your freedom, or choose to be a puppet for them to control!”

  Chapter 28: (Morgan)

  Smoke fills my lungs and stings my eyes the moment I enter the hallway, so overpowering I almost miss the tinge of chemicals and gasoline rolling off our guide. Almost. I realize then what she has done. A distraction. That’s what Frank had told us. That they would create a distraction to cover our escape. I had been skeptical, wondering what could possibly distract over three hundred soldiers at once. Now, I have my answer: fire. A desperate plan indeed.

  Without so much as a nod, Val turns and we follow her down the hall, away from the orange glow at our backs. She stops at a door halfway down, a second key already working at the lock. The door opens and there stand Lylette and Tony, the rest of their recruits fanned out behind them. By their confused faces, I gather they were not informed of the plan. Val makes no attempt to do so now, her message short and blunt: “Move your asses unless you want to burn to death!”

  Val doesn’t wait to see if they comply, already turning and continuing down the hall. If Lylette questioned her intentions, it disappears the moment she sees me. I forestall any other questions she may have by matching Val’s urgency.

  “We’re breaking out. But we have to move, now.”

  It’s all the assurance they need. They file behind Leon and me, all of us fighting through coughs to hurry after Val. The end of the hallway comes into view, the light of a single lantern revealing the form of a solitary figure standing at the exit. It’s not until we are feet away that I make out the three bodies heaped on the floor.

  “Nice work, Mack,” Val says as we reach him, eyeing the bodies.

  “You too,” he says, glancing at the approaching inferno. He considers the rest of us. “Our backup?”

  “Just these two,” she answers, pointing out Leon and me. She addresses Lylette and the others now. “The rest of you, this door leads to the river trail. Take it and run before you’re burnt or caught.”

  The three recruits don’t hesitate, bolting through the door a split second later. Only Lylette remains unmoved, Tony stopping halfway through the door as he realizes.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Tony asks her.

  “I’m not leaving,” she says.

  “That’s not an option,” Val says. “Run, now, while you still have the chance.”

  “No!” Lylette says, defiant. She points to the guns in our hands. “Give me a gun. Whatever you’re planning, I want in.”

  “This isn’t some game, girl,” Val says.

  “Don’t talk down to me like I don’t already know that,” Lylette says, the fire in her voice as heated as the one behind us. “I watched your people murder mine. I won’t just let that go. I’m staying.”

  It’s then I notice how red and swollen her eyes are. My mind has been so consumed with worry over my family and whether or not I can trust Frank, that I barely gave the people she lost a second thought. How easy it is to forget that others feel just as much pain as we do. I see that pain now, and I know there will be no swaying her. There would certainly be no swaying me if it were the other way around.

  Val huffs in exasperation and turns to her partner, Mack. He considers a moment and then nods. From his waist, he unholsters one of two pistols and hands it to her. “You follow our lead, understand?” he says.

  “No problem,” she agrees. She turns to Tony who looks as if he’s on the verge of tears. He grips the crucifix hanging around his neck tightly, shaking his head as if in shame. He doesn’t need to speak for me to know his decision.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. He’s out the door before she even has the chance to reply. If Lylette is surprised by his exit, she doesn’t let it show, turning back to Val and Mack as determined as ever.

  “We proceed to the top floor,” Mack says. “Right now the fire is concentrated on the bottom two levels of the south wing, but we don’t know how fast it might spread. We need to free the hostages before they have the chance to organize. Keep your heads cool and only shoot if necessary. As far as they know you’re one of us. We’ll play that card as long as possible, got it?” He surveys us briefly as we nod and give our understanding. “Alright then, on me.”

  Slices of moonlight filter through the windows of the stairwell. Through them, I spot figures darting through the parking lot and toward the river trail, accompanied by the sound of gunshots muffled by the walls and thick glass. There will be lives lost tonight, just as there was the last time I carried out a plan within these walls. There’s guilt in that, knowing they die because of our actions. But more than anything there’s anger that we were forced into this position in the first place. The Animals made nights like this inevitable. And so long as they hold power, more nights will follow. I lost sight of that on the farm. I won’t do so again.

  We reach the top floor and pause at Macks outstretched hand. He peeks around the corner, his rifle held at the ready. “Only two guards. The others must have left to see what’s going on.” he turns to us. “Watch my back.”

  He enters the hallway at a run, catching the guards’ attention instantly. They raise their guns defensively, yelling at him to stop. He doesn’t.

  “Boss sent me you fools!” he says. “Did you not notice the smoke and gunshots? There’s a massive fire burning in the south wing. Grunts are escaping left and right. We need to corral the hostages and get things under control.”

  He sells the bit well, his voice frantic and impatient. The guards buy it. They lower their weapons.

  “How did—” The guard is silenced before he can finish his sentence, Mack bringing his gun to bear in one quick motion. It’s over in two shots, each guard dropping with a bullet through their head. He swipes a set of keys from one of them and gets to work freeing the hostages as we run toward him.

  Mack makes quick work of the locks, the freed hostages spilling into the hallway confused and frightened. A girl of maybe eight spots Val and rushes into her arms, tears streaming from her eyes. “Momma,” the girl says, the word softening the gruff woman.

  “Lena, Brianna.” I turn at Leon’s voice. I spot them, their confusion quickly turning to surprised disbelief. They rush toward us, Brianna into Leon’s arms and Lena into my own. I exhale a long breath of relief. Just as Felix is a brother to me, these two are my sisters. After so many months I feared the worse. Holding them in my arms now, whole and unhurt fills me with relief.

  “How?” Lena asks.

  So much is asked with that one word. I can see the questions burning in her eyes. I want to answer them all, to tell her everything. But now is not the time.

  “It’s a long story,” I say. “I promise to tell you once we get you home to your family.” A dozen more questions arise at the mention of her family, but she doesn’t voice them. She’s smart enough to know we’re far from safe.

  “Settle down,” Mack barks. “You’re not free—DOWN!”

  I follow his horror-struck gaze and feel the same horror wash over me as I see what he sees. Animals have entered the hallway, anger flooding their faces as they survey the scene, guns already rising in retaliation. I don’t think, just move, pushing Lena into Leon and Brianna and all but tackling them to the ground as the hallway erupts in a storm of bullets and cracking thunder. We scramble into the room they just vacated, others tripping and falling over us in panic.

  I turn around just as Mack sinks to his knees surrounded by the bodies of three hostages who have already fallen. His back is turned on the Animals, his arms outstretched wide on either side of him. His eyes click to mine and it’s then that I understand what has happened, what he’s done. He was the first to notice the Animals, the first raise the alarm. Yet rather than save himself, he used his body to shield others. And though his thin frame is no match against the vastness of the hallway, there’s no doubt more bodies would litte
r the floor had he not done so.

  In his eyes there is no fear, no regret. There’s only peace, arms still open as if ready to embrace someone waiting for him on the other side. A half second later his body jerks, more bullets hitting their mark. His eyes close not in pain, but release, a ghost of a smile on his blood coated lips as he falls forward and his soul is put to rest. I don’t know him; don’t know why he chose to help us or why he would sacrifice himself for others. But I know I won’t forget this moment, his tranquil face and open arms seared forever in my memory.

  “Plan B,” Val shouts, unearthing a length of rope from her pack. No, not just rope: a ladder. “Hold them back as long as you can.”

  Lylette reaches the door first, peaking quickly into the hall and firing off several shots before they return fire. I go to one knee and use the same technique, peeking in and out, firing a burst of bullets each time. One goes down by me. Another by Lylette. But a half dozen remain, using the recessed alcoves for cover as they push forward.

  “We have transport waiting at the TBK,” Val says, the ladder attached to the patio railing. “Get there at all costs.” She’s the first one down the ladder, the girl she held in the hall clinging to her back with tears streaming down her terrorized face. I turn from the sight, focusing the anger that rises toward the bastards who’ve forced us here.

  I empty the clip and reload my one spare. I glance back at the balcony. Only a handful of hostages remain. I want to scream at them to move faster, the need to escape an overwhelming force. But I resist the urge, knowing that doing so will only make matters worse. I shoot off another burst of shots, clipping one guard on the shoulder and just missing a kill shot on a second. Movement flutters just out of the corner of my eye. More Animals rush from the opposite end of the hall, their weapons rising as we come into their line of sight. By the collar of her shirt, I yank Lylette to the ground, bullets hitting the door where she stood not a split second before. I fire off my last three shots into the chest of the closest attacker before slamming and locking the door shut.

  The room is nearly empty, most of the hostages already on the ground and running toward our transport. “Lylette, you’re next,” I say as the final hostage mounts over the railing and begins to climb down. It takes all my self-control not to follow immediately after. But this ladder isn’t the strongest. At most, it can hold two of us at once. From this height, a fall could be fatal.

  The Animals are at the door, the loud thump-thump of them trying to breach flooding my ears. “Now you, Lee.” He opens his mouth to argue but I cut him off, already knowing what he’s about to insist. “Just go! I’ll be right behind you.”

  He curses but brokes no further argument, mounting the railing and beginning to climb down. No sooner does his head clear the patio that a tremendous crash sounds behind me. I turn to find the door swung open, a huge Animal shouldering his way into the room with more pouring in behind him.

  “Show me your hands!” barks one of the Animals.

  I raise my hands, my mind frantically thinking of a way out of this. I have no ammo, no cover. The second I make a move I’ll have a dozen bullets in me. Even if I could make it over the railing, I couldn’t climb down without getting shot, and all jumping would accomplish is either a quicker death or severe trauma. None of these options end with my escape. But there is still a chance for the others. All I can do is buy them as much time as I can.

  “Now, on your knees and hands behind your head.” I comply, hating the vulnerability of such a position, but knowing resisting will accomplish nothing but a bullet through my head. Death might be coming for me, but I’m not ready to meet it. Not yet.

  Two Animals come forward at the leader’s command, one stripping me of my pistol and the other to check the balcony. The Animal at the balcony curses. “They climbed down,” he says. “Heading north around the side of the building. Couldn’t get a shot off before they disappeared.”

  I let out a breath of relief. They still have a chance.

  “Hunt them down!” barks the leader. “Every single one of them, understand?” Like a chorus, they all reply with the same two words: “Yes, Boss”. Most of the Animals leave to do his bidding, only three staying behind with him. His honor guard.

  “So, you’re Boss,” I say. Hatred flares hot inside me. All the pain and suffering the Animals have inflicted, all the lives they’ve destroyed and taken, it all stems from the callous man before me. My hope of survival leaves me, a new hope rising in its place.

  “And you’re the infamous Morgan,” Boss replies. His eyes are dark pits, fixed on me in undeniable malice. He doesn’t say how he knows me. There’s not a single mention of Mitch or the raid, and I don’t question the matter. The less he thinks I know, the better. He walks forward and unholsters a revolver at his hip, making a show of placing it slowly against my forehead. My pulse quickens at the touch of the cold metal, my adrenaline off the charts. But as it was with his brother, I don’t let it show. And though I’m on my knees, I have no intention of living here.

  “This was your doing tonight,” he says. It’s not a question and I don’t deny the fact. Better that the blame is put on me.

  “It was,” I say.

  He surveys me for a cold minute, the same hatred burning inside me burning in him as well. I can feel it rolling off him, can see it in the rage that fills his eyes.

  “You have heart,” he finally says. “That’s good. Soon we’ll find out just how much.” He withdraws the revolver from my head and my hand drifts toward my boot. “Take him.”

  He turns toward the door and I rise, all my hate, all my anger adding speed and violence to my movements. Out of the three guards, only one reacts quickly enough to fire off a shot. It misses, sailing past my ear by less than an inch. There is no second shot, the three guards freezing as I hold a knife against Boss’s throat—a knife that has known over one hundred years of warfare.

  “If I can’t give this knife to my own son, I will at least have it passed into the hands of a man strong enough to carry it.”

  Richard’s words echo in my mind as I use the knife to disarm Boss and force his men back. Boss drops the revolver and I kick it to the side.

  “What are going to do, Morgan?” he asks. “The second you use that knife, my men will kill you.”

  “I’m dead either way,” I say. “Rather it be a bullet than whatever you have planned for me.”

  “Plans can change,” Boss says. “Tonight doesn’t have to be the end of either of us. It can be the beginning of something new.”

  He speaks without panic, without fear. It’s as if the knife I hold to his throat weren’t there at all for all the concern he shows. It’s unnerving.

  “I was offered to join you before,” I say. “My answer hasn’t changed.”

  “Why?” he questions. “Because you think what we’re doing is wrong: that we’re just a bunch of scumbags doing what we please?”

  “You think differently?”

  “Of course,” he says, a dark humor filling his voice. “It’s a new world, Morgan. Everything we do shapes what kind of world it’s going to be. Most people are sheep. Left on their own they’re helpless, just easy prey for the wolves. They need shepherds to guide them, lead them.”

  “And that’s you?” I ask.

  “You’re damn right,” he says. All the humor has left him. When he speaks, it’s with pure conviction. “We bring people together. We make the choices they’re too afraid to make—do the things they’re too weak to do themselves. Our methods might seem extreme, but they are necessary.”

  “Killing and ransoming are necessary?” I challenge, unable to keep the disgust out of my voice.

  “And how many have you killed tonight, Morgan?” he asks. “Demonize me all you’d like, but those bodies in the hall are on you. They were safe, provided for until you came along. You’ll rationalize it of course—tell yourself it was necessary. Doesn’t change the fact that you have blood on your hands the same as me.”


  His words hit hard, a wave of guilt boiling in the pit of my stomach. I know he’s trying to rattle me, but I can’t escape the truth in what he says. There is blood on my hands. The bodies in the hallway, the captives who are gunned down trying to escape, at least part of their deaths are on me. But it’s as I reminded myself earlier: they are the ones who made nights like this inevitable. They’re tyrants. And as with all tyrants, there will come a time when they will fall. Rebellion is the natural counterpart to oppression. All it takes is a spark.

  “We’re more alike than you would like to admit,” he continues. We’re both—”

  “We’re nothing alike,” I cut him off, tired of hearing his attempt to sway me. “And I’d sooner die than join you.”

  He laughs, the sound amused and mocking. “If you can, keep him alive.” Boss speaks not to me, but to his men. “I want him to know what it means to suffer before he dies.”

  There is no fear in his voice. No attempt to sway me further. Even now, he commands an air of authority. I’ve dealt with my share of wicked men since this all began. Unconsciously, I regarded him the same as those I’ve met before him. I was wrong. He’s something else entirely. Killing him could be the spark needed to bring them all down.

  This is it, I realize. After everything I’ve fought for, this is how it ends. They won’t take me alive. If I am to die, it will be on my terms, not theirs. My grip tightens around the knife, my resolve hardening. I don’t think of the pain to come. I don’t ponder what happens after my heart has beaten it’s last. I think of those I love most. I see their faces, hear their voices, and I feel blessed to have lived the life I have.

  I’m so absorbed in my thoughts, that it’s with a jolt I realize one of their faces is more than just a memory. Boss notices too. He shouts a warning but already it’s too late. The sound of thunder cracks within the room, followed by the thud of falling bodies. One, two, three guards hit the floor, none of them so much as able to lift their guns before they’re killed. I keep my hold on Boss as he howls in rage and struggles against me, utterly lost for words.