There are half a dozen buildings spread across the campus, all of them deteriorating and looking to be on the verge of collapsing after thirty years of disuse and neglect. The paint has long since faded, there are holes in the walls, the roofs are sagging, and jagged shards of glass remain sticking up in window frames like rows of broken teeth. The buildings are all in bad shape but would still be serviceable enough to hide four kids, and the parcel of land is isolated enough that nobody would even know they were there.
The barrel of my M4 leading the way, I stalk along the side of a large building, broken glass and gravel crunching beneath my boots. I frown when I notice dozens of bullet holes in the siding. It’s clearly a place the locals like to come when they want to blow off some steam. Why people think shooting up old buildings is relaxing or therapeutic is beyond me. Frankly, the bullet holes only add to the dystopian hellscape feel of the place, and my stomach tightens as I look around, waiting for the chainsaw-wielding cannibal mutant to pop out from behind a bush.
Just up ahead is the darkened hole where a door once stood. Now, there’s just a gaping hole, the door, like the windows around it, having been broken out long ago. The button clicks as I turn on the light attached to my weapon. Moving low and quickly, I swing in through the gaping maw and into the darkness beyond. The interior of the building is cavernous, and though the beam of light slices through the shadows, its reach isn’t that long, and most of the empty building remains inky black.
Well aware that my silhouette in the doorway makes me a perfect target, I quickly step to my right and into the shadows. Since it’s not doing anything more than giving away my position to somebody deeper in the building, I turn off my light, then give my eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness. Once I’m able to see in the dim, ambient light, I can see that save for some stacks of crates, piles of what look like trash, and copious amounts of empty beer bottles and cans littering the floor, the cavernous warehouse is empty. The kids aren’t being held here.
Just as I turn to head back outside, the sharp chatter of gunfire shatters the silence, the sound so sudden and startling, it makes me jump.
“I’m taking fire,” Paige’s muffled voice comes through my earpiece. “Building four on the western side. I need help.”
I key my comm. “We’re on our way, Paige. Keep your head down.”
“Don’t have much of a choice.”
“Mo, Astra, get to Paige’s position,” I call out.
“Already moving,” Astra’s voice comes through the comm.
“Almost there,” Mo calls.
Racing out of the building I’m in, I head for Paige’s position, the knot in my belly so tight it’s painful. If anything happens to Paige—or any of my team—I don’t know that I’ll forgive myself. There are still times when I’m alone and the night is quiet that I remember what happened to Lucas and feel that familiar gut punch of rage and sorrow. The guilt I still feel over his close brush with death still haunts me. The people on my team are my responsibility. Making sure they get to go home to their loved ones is paramount to me. I would rather take a bullet than have any single one of them suffer even a scratch. So, hearing the rattle of gunfire and not knowing what the situation is has my heart in my throat.
A sharp squeal bursts from my throat when I round a corner. I immediately throw myself backward when I see the bright muzzle flash of the man on the roof of the building across the way. A chunk of the brick building explodes as the round tears into it and a line of fire burns my cheek. I grit my teeth and wipe it away. As fast as I am, I hadn’t been able to fully get out of the way of the debris thrown off by Townsend’s bullet.
Leaning back against the wall, I take a beat to catch my breath and slow my heart. That was uncomfortably close. My earpiece crackles, and Paige’s voice, strained and tense, rings in my ear.
“Chief, are you okay?” she asks.
“I’m good.”
“Townsend has the high ground,” she reports.
“You think?” I reply.
I lean out slowly to get a lay of the land. Townsend is up on the roof of the warehouse, but he’s looking the other way. Paige is pinned behind a concrete utility shed, and when I lean out a little farther, I see Mo and Astra sheltering behind the hollowed out, rusted remnants of a truck that looks like it’s been sitting there for decades.
“Mo, Astra, you two all right?” I ask.
“We’re good,” Astra says as they both give me a wave. “He’s got us pinned down though.”
“We need to get him off that perch,” Paige says.
Paige leans out and fires off a burst. Dirt and debris fly up as her rounds punch into the low wall on the roof that Townsend is hiding behind. He pops up and fires a burst back that has Paige scrambling backward as his bullets tear into the decaying asphalt with muted thumps. Before the echo of his shots even fades, though, Astra breaks from the cover of the abandoned truck and clambers to get a better angle on Townsend, but he’s quicker. He turns and fires off a few rounds that send Astra scrambling back behind the truck with Mo.
“You good, Astra?” I call in my mic.
“I’m good. But this guy is really pissing me off,” she growls.
From his vantage point, Townsend can see our positions and can keep us pinned down or take us out if we should be so bold as to break cover. He’s holding all the cards right now. And with time starting to become a factor, we need to find a way to get into that building he’s protecting so fiercely before the clock runs out and those children suffer a grisly, painful death.
“How are we going to get him off his spot?” Astra asks.
“I’m thinking,” I say.
“Not to put too much pressure on you, but think faster,” she replies. “Those kids are starting to run low on time, and we don’t know what sort of treats he’s got in store for us inside.”
“I know, I know,” I say. “Just… give me a minute.”
Astra leans out and takes a shot that rips into the low wall as Townsend ducks down. He pops back up again and returns fire. At the same time, Paige leans out from her spot and pulls the trigger, sending a burst of rounds that punch into the wall. They don’t come close to taking Townsend out—his position is too well defensed; it’s going to take dumb luck and a perfect shot for us to put a few holes into him from all the way down here. But that gives me an idea.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” I say.
“Oh good, you have a plan. About time,” Astra mocks.
“Shut it,” I reply.
“Shutting it,” Astra says. “What’s the plan?”
“Nothing glamorous or complicated,” I say. “I just need you all to alternate taking shots at Townsend. Paige, you first, then Astra and Mo. I need you to keep him busy and focused on you guys while I slip around behind the building.”
“And what are you going to do once you’re back there?” Astra asks.
“I’m going to find a way onto the roof, and I’m going to end this,” I say.
“I’m going on record now that I don’t like this plan,” Paige says.
“No. Absolutely not,” Astra replies. “We’ll find another way.”
“We don’t have time. We need to get into that building now. Those kids are running out of time.”
“We’ve got enough time left to find another way,” Astra argues.
“Stop arguing. This is what we’re doing,” I say.
“Then let me find the way up,” Astra counters.
“I said stop arguing. That’s an order,” I snap. “On the count of three, start laying down alternating cover fire. Is everybody ready?”
“Ready,” Paige says.
“Ready,” Astra adds grudgingly.
“Three… two… one,” I say.
Astra leans out and lays down a vicious burst of fire. Townsend waits for it to end, then stands and returns fire only to have to scramble when Paige rattles off a series of shots. When her fire tapers off, Townsend squeezes off a few rounds at her but is forced to duck back down again when Mo takes her turn on the trigger. As they’re going back and forth, I take my chance and slip around the building I’m sheltering behind, moving as quickly and stealthily as possible. I don’t want to tip off Townsend that I’m slipping up behind him because if he gets that sense, when I get up to that roof, I’ll find myself staring down the barrel of his AR15, and the game will be over.
As I run, I listen to the echo of the battle behind me. They’re doing a good job of keeping him busy. Too busy, hopefully, to give Townsend time to wonder why I’m not joining in the fun and squeezing off potshots at him. I’m able to circle around behind the building he’s on and find a fire escape on the backside of the building. Gripping my weapon a little tighter, I start the climb up the metal stairs as quickly as I dare, doing my best to move quietly while keeping my eye on the ledge above me. The last thing I want to see is Townsend looking down at me. If he gets wind that I’m coming up behind him, I’ll be in real trouble.
