BEYOND THE GRID BOX SET: The Complete Beyond The Grid series (book 1-4)

by Connor Mccoy

  He thought of Jubilee, and then his whole family. In his gut, he knew something was not right back home. And so he pushed onward down the highway. Even as the sun completely set, giving way to a sky full of stars, Jacob pressed on.

  Jacob continued losing himself in his thoughts. The Pleasantville experience had been sheer hell. The town was filled with monsters. He practically had to act like one of them to survive. His main consolation was that the city was burning and that all the places he raided likely would be destroyed within days. So, it was not as if he had caused permanent damage.

  Is there any place that will be safe anymore? Sure, Pleasantville was horrifically bad off, but Middleburg turned into a dictatorship practically overnight. Trang Nguyen had earmarked some of his fellow citizens for death. The killings carried out by Trang’s forces weren’t those of a crazed mob, they were more diabolical in nature.

  Doctor Nguyen! Suddenly, Jacob’s skin grew cold. The doctor was following him, but Jacob had not spoken to him in a while, maybe even more than an hour. With night having fallen, Jacob’s visual range was limited. In fact, Jacob barely had noticed the loss of light. He had been going on autopilot for so long that he practically was pedaling blind. The trees and occasional houses he would pass were mere silhouettes. He had been fortunate not to pedal into a pothole or a large gash in the ground. In this darkness, he would not have noticed them.

  “Doctor Nguyen!” he cried out. He glanced over his shoulder, but saw nothing but darkness. “Doctor!”

  Jacob’s heart pounded. Nguyen was not as physically fit as Jacob. If Jacob was exhausted, then how much worse off could the doctor be? What if he had collapsed and fallen off the road? Doctor Nguyen could be miles behind him!

  Jacob slowed his pace. Maybe Doctor Nguyen still was pedaling and actually was quite close; the darkness still was hiding him. He would let the doctor catch up.

  And so Jacob waited.

  And waited.

  Doc Sam yawned. He would have kicked himself for staying up this late, but no matter how much he wanted to leave his treatment room and head off to bed, he always felt the urge to rearrange something on one of his tabletops, or to sweep the floor again, or to spray some disinfectant on the door knobs, any little task that kept him active.

  His back finally protested. You’re not a young man anymore, Sam. That was part of the reason he dreaded sleep. He was having growing problems getting up at the early hour that he wanted. It was as though if he stayed up, he wouldn’t have to worry about getting up.

  Added to that, his dreams would sometimes delve into the past. He thought of friends and family long gone, and of opportunities to have a different life than the one he had led. He thought of Shirley Higgins, a lady he had met in his early days of service. He asked her out for a drink once. If he had done it a few more times, the pair might have gotten together. She wasn’t the only missed opportunity, but she weighed on his mind lately.

  His eyes glanced at a photograph on the wall. A much younger Doc Sam, then an army medic, stood with Hien Nguyen and another friend, Sergeant Dan Sullivan. This was the only wall picture that depicted the three of them together.

  He locked eyes with the three of them. He thought of his longings for a different life. A smile crossed his lips as he thought of their adventures together.

  Maybe I didn’t have a home with a picket fence, two kids and a dog, but my life hasn’t been anything to sneeze at. In fact, he had been in the perfect position to help out the Averys and the rest of his town. Even before that, his unique experiences had been a boon to people who needed help in Trapp and in the surrounding area. Domino even said that it was a woman she had met on the road that convinced her to seek him out.

  “That’s a pretty good life to have lived,” he said with a smile. People who respect you and remember you fondly. That was something he could take to his grave with great happiness.

  He reached in a nearby cabinet and pulled out the bourbon he had shared with Jacob. There still was a little left in there and a toast to his past would be a good enough excuse to finish it off.

  After pouring the glass, he raised it and said to the photo, “Here’s to you.” He took a swig.

  Not a second after he put down the glass on the nearby table, there was a knock on the door behind him. That door led to the outside. “Doc!” It was Evander. “It’s Zell! He’s bleedin’! He’s bleedin’ bad!”

  Did he burst some of the stitching? Doc Sam raced to the door. “I’m here!” He undid lock after lock. “Let’s get him in here!”

  He yanked the door open, revealing Evander holding on to Zell. The older cousin’s head dangled down, and he was clutching his left shoulder. “It’s bad, Doc. It’s bad!” Evander cried.

  Fortunately, Doc Sam had cleared the way to the treatment bed. “Set him down here!” The doctor motioned to the bed.

  Evander helped Zell onto the bed. “The shoulder…” Zell moaned.

  “Let’s take a look.” Doc Sam frowned. Janice was excellent at stitching. What could have happened that her stitching job would be compromised?

  Then he remembered something. Zell’s right shoulder had been shot. Why was Zell clutching his left shoulder?

  As he pulled aside Zell’s hand, his confusion multiplied. There was no blood at all on his left shoulder.

  A wide smile broke out on Zell’s lips. “Actually, Doc, I feel just fine.”

  Doc Sam had no time to express outrage at the deception, as a tall shadow lunged through the open door. Sam turned around, raising his hands, but too late to avoid the blade that sank into his flesh.

  Domino’s eyes shot open. That banging sound had come from the other side of the house.

  She jumped out of the bed. Jubilee remained asleep. That noise sounded like trouble. She reached for her belt that contained her gun holster and knife.

  Doc Sam slammed against the wall. Blood covered his left arm. The pain was searing, but he refused to give in to it. The tall man rushed with the knife again. Sam grabbed a glass jar with his right hand and heaved it at the man’s face.

  The attacker raised his right arm, but the jar still appeared to at least partially strike the man’s face. That bought Doc Sam some time to reach for his gun on the table.

  But suddenly, Sam’s attacker rushed him, grabbing onto the pistol’s handle. Sam grabbed onto the barrel. The two wrestled furiously for the gun. Sam slammed his foot on top of his attacker’s boot. The man grunted, but he did not relent.

  The doctor flung drops of blood across the floor and the wall as he fought. He was at too big of a disadvantage. He would be overwhelmed soon if he didn’t do something.

  “Who…the hell…are you?” Doc Sam demanded to know through gritted teeth.

  The man slammed Doc Sam’s right arm onto the nearest table, knocking the gun loose onto the floor. Sam jabbed his attacker with an uppercut from his elbow, but it was all he could do to get loose. He could not reach the weapon. He had to get into this home’s living room and retrieve another gun if he had any chance of stopping these guys.

  The man brushed some loose fragments of glass from his face. “I took the name Diablo. That is all you need to know.” He raised his knife again.

  Diablo. The Spanish word for the devil. This was no ordinary thief. He was twisted in the head, with an inhuman blaze in his eyes, not unlike the fanatics Doc Sam had encountered during his military days overseas.

  The Lutz cousins were too busy loading up his supplies into sacks. At least they weren’t piling on, but judging from their condition, they were too weak to be much of a threat anyway. It was Diablo who Doc Sam had to worry about.

  His left arm was feeling numb. Damn! He had to stop the bleeding fast or he would pass out from blood loss, not that he would live for much longer before Diablo finished him off.

  “Doctor Sam!” Domino’s voice called through the closed door. “Are you alright?”

  Sam’s eyes widened. “Run away!” he shouted. “Don’t come in here! Grab the k
ids and flee!”

  Diablo turned to the door. He tossed his knife aside, then pulled out a gun and aimed for the door. “Evander! Take the doctor’s gun!”

  Doc Sam stumbled. He nearly fell over. The blood loss was progressing rapidly. He couldn’t even run over and stop Evander from scooping up his gun from the floor. “Domino, they have guns! Get away from the door!”

  Both Diablo and Evander aimed their guns at the door. “Fire!” Diablo shouted.

  “Domino, they have guns! Get away from the door!”

  Doc Sam’s plea stopped Domino before she could turn the doorknob. As much as she wanted to break down the door and help Doc Sam, she valued the older man’s warnings and dove for the floor.

  Gunshots erupted through the door. Domino scampered out of the hall and into the living room. Bullets riddled the hallway. Some hit the bags that made up the outside walls of the house. A few even managed to strike the window near the front door.

  Domino stayed anchored to the floor. Her kids. She had to think of them first. She couldn’t help Doc Sam, at least not now.

  As soon as the bullets stopped, she ran back through the living room toward her room. Brandon and Jubilee were huddled inside.

  “Brandon.” Domino knelt down. “Remember the bunker? You have to get Jubilee in there!”

  “Mom, what about you?” Jubilee clung to Domino’s arm.

  “I’m going to make sure the bastards don’t follow us in.”

  “Shit!” Diablo popped the empty clip out of his gun. Evander’s gun had run dry as well. Diablo pulled out another clip while Evander just shrugged. He did not possess any clips for Doc Sam’s gun, so he had no way to reload it.

  You morons wasted your ammo. You didn’t wait to see if you had a clear shot at Domino. Doc Sam hoped the young woman had heeded his advice and fled in time. He rapidly was growing weak, but he had one more card to play. Diablo also had messed up by stabbing him and not shooting him, although Sam figured that maybe Diablo wanted to conserve bullets or use a method of killing that wasn’t so loud. Not a bad tactic, but it prevented Diablo from scoring a quick kill.

  Zell was occupied with looting the office, but he constantly was passing by a silver air bottle on the floor, which was too big to jam into his sack. It was filled with nitrous oxide. Since Doc Sam had such a limited supply, he had been reluctant to use it during his surgeries unless necessary. As things stood tonight, Sam doubted he ever would perform an operation again. But if he took out these bastards or even bought Domino and her kids some time, this gas would serve its purpose.

  Diablo was reloading his gun and Evander had his back turned. Sam had a moment, but a moment was all he needed.

  With his right hand, he grabbed the handle of the can and picked it up. From there, he wrapped his right arm around the can and reached up to the nozzle, opening the spray. Ordinarily, he would have hooked up a hose to the bottle for greater control, but with the valve fully exposed, he could spray the gas far more quickly.

  “Eat this, you sons of bitches!”

  Doc Sam sprayed Evander and Diablo with the gas. The pair fled from the door, covering their faces and yelling. Zell got caught with gas in his face and fled from it, dropping his sack in the process.

  Doc Sam’s grip slipped. He barely was able to hold the heavy can. Only adrenalin and sheer grit kept him chasing after Diablo and Evander.

  “Damn him!” Diablo swung his arm around, but because he could not look behind him, he ended up firing two shots blindly. One bullet struck the wall, narrowly missing the photograph of Sam, Nguyen and Sullivan.

  Finally, fatigue was ready to claim him. Sam decided, in a last ditch effort, to toss the can at Diablo.

  He missed.

  The can instead struck the table near the door that Evander and Diablo just had pelted with bullets. Coughing and cursing, Diablo turned around, his hand still on his eyes. He was trying to rub them, but the gas had thrown him off balance.

  Still, the gun was pointed in Sam’s general direction. The doctor saw the back door was still open, and made a mad dash for it.

  Diablo discharged his gun. One, two, three shots. On the third shot, the photograph on the wall finally broke loose and fell to the floor.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jacob still had not heard or seen any sign of Doctor Nguyen. Now he was growing petrified. He must have lost the doctor somewhere back on this dark road. He had to turn around and find him.

  Find him? How? This whole road is so damned dark. Hell, if I turn around and go searching for him, I might get lost!

  But he couldn’t just go off and leave Doctor Nguyen out here. He had pledged to bring him back to Trapp. Jacob should have kept better tabs on him. Losing the doctor was his responsibility.

  Still, how was he going to look for Doctor Nguyen in this darkness? He didn’t have a flashlight. How could he create some light for himself?

  Jacob had to admit, this was a pretty ingenious idea, even if he felt a little silly doing it.

  He was pedaling back the other way on the road with a torch in his right hand. He had fashioned himself a torch made of a bent-up branch, the top wrapped up with rags. With a little lantern oil from his backpack, he made it ready to burn. His kindling pack did the rest, helping him to ignite the rags with a small but steady flame.

  He clutched the branch with his right hand while he kept a grip on the handlebars with his left. Riding like this was tricky. He pedaled slowly to maintain his balance. He also wore a glove on his right hand for added gripping power, plus he didn’t want to expose his flesh. He feared that some of the oil might drop onto his hand and possibly cause it to catch fire. At least with a glove he could rip it off and toss it away before the fire got too bad.

  He just hoped he had not lost Doctor Nguyen too far back. With any luck, the doctor would spot the torch moving toward him and call out to Jacob.

  Did we pass any turnoffs? The road had stretched in one direction for so long that Jacob had grown bored and inattentive as he had been riding. The monotony was part of the reason he could pedal so long under the night sky. There was simply no reason to turn off the road at any point before he reached the proximity of Trapp. Then he would have turned left onto a small road that led to Road 212, which was the last leg of his journey to Trapp itself.

  Still no response. Perhaps Nguyen would not spot the torch at all, not unless Jacob called out to him and drew his attention. His voice and the torch together might do it.

  “Doctor!” Jacob cried out, “Doctor Nguyen, are you out there?”

  He repeated his cries. At times his throat grew dry and Jacob had to clear his throat. He ended up shouting for what seemed like thirty minutes.

  Damn. I can’t keep this up forever.

  He tried waving the torch in the air for greater effect. As he continued his calls, he wondered what could have happened to Doctor Nguyen. He could have pedaled off the road by accident and damaged his bicycle, leaving him on foot. It would explain why Jacob had yet to run into him on this road.

  While Jacob pedaled, he studied the dark shadows on the sides of the road. The shapes were tall, reaching up to about Jacob’s waist on the bike, and they swayed slightly.

  Must be tall grass, Jacob thought. It was possible Doctor Nguyen had pedaled into the foliage. Jacob winced. Doctor Nguyen was not a tall man. This grass would play havoc with trying to find him if he was wandering around in it.

  Jacob kept up his cries while swaying the torch. Every time he felt the urge to quit and turn around, he convinced himself to push on a little farther. He could not afford to stop if just a few more seconds carried him into range of Doctor Nguyen.

  “Hey!”

  Jacob quieted. That voice sounded faint. It was almost like an “Eh!” but it was definitely male. He slowed his bike down as much as he could without losing momentum and tipping over. But which direction did it come from?

  “Hey!”

  Jacob turned his head right. With a slight turn, he pedaled to the r
ight side of the road. He stopped just as the front wheel crossed the road edge, halting before it hit the first few blades of grass.

  After dismounting, Jacob cried out, “Doctor Nguyen! I’m here! It’s Jacob!”

  He waited for a response. He got it soon, in the form of “Hey!” and “Over here!”

  Jacob stood on his tippy-toes to extend his flame as high as it could go. Had Doctor Nguyen seen it? Jacob hoped so. Jacob’s problem, however, was that he would not be able to see Nguyen in the tall grass in this darkness.

  If he’s out there, he might still miss me. Maybe I should try hiking into the grass a little. He might see the torch moving.

  Jacob took a step into the grass. He repeated in his mind: I’m only going straight. I’m only going straight. The last thing he needed was to get lost out here himself. He had to assure himself he could turn around one hundred and eighty degrees and return to his bike with no problems.

  The torch’s light helped Jacob see in front of him, reducing the possibility of encountering a nasty creature within the foliage, such as a snake. He spotted one after a while, but to Jacob’s relief, it was a harmless grass snake that slithered away without a fuss.

  “Doctor Nguyen!” Jacob cried, “If you can hear me, call back!”

  “Marco!”

  Jacob stopped. “Marco?” Jacob mouthed. Who the hell is that? Doesn’t Doctor Nguyen know my name?

  Then, he understood. “Damn,” Jacob said to himself. Marco Polo, as in Marco Polo the game. Jacob should have caught on.

  “Polo!” Jacob shouted back.

  “Marco!” Nguyen responded, a little louder this time.

  “Polo!” Jacob cried. He slowed his pace. If Nguyen was coming to him, he should try not moving too quickly. The two men might pass each other up.