Sanctuary Page 21
"Damn, these fuckers had a pretty nice supply of booze and tobacco. Been awhile since I've gotten this good of a buzz." A man's voice called out.
"Yeah, me too. Wish there was some fresh meat around here though. Fucking Peterson had ‘em take most of the good shit. Think we can butcher that horse and grill up some of the thing’s meat? I've never had horse meat before." Another man said.
"Nah, that things too valuable. I'm sure Riley will want to hold onto it. If we find us a couple more, we could start using ‘em to get through the woods real fast."
Alejandro didn't recognize the men’s voices or the names they mentioned, but his dulled instincts told him that they were a danger to him. A horse? Why do I remember a horse and the woods? I don't have a horse. His memories started flashing back to him in chaotic waves; the virus, the woods, his group, being attacked, being shot in the face. I was fucking shot. Anger and adrenaline began to fuel him. He didn't fully remember what was going on, but he knew he was in immediate danger and that these men had shot him. The girls, oh fuck the girls, they took the girls. He tried to rise again, rising only a mere inch before falling again, causing a quiet thud on the porch.
"What the fuck? You hear that?" One of the men asked.
"Ah, I'm sure it's nothing, just the wood creaking." The other replied.
"I'm gonna check it out."
Fuck, don't move, they think you're dead. Play dead. Alejandro could hear the wooden boards creaking behind him as the soldier stepped out onto the porch, and then, silence for what seemed like an eternity.
"See anything?" The other soldier called out.
"Nah, not shit. I'm gonna go take a piss right quick."
"Use the toilet you fucking animal."
"You know I like to honor my ancestors by pissing outside in nature like they did. I'm a real spiritual man."
"You're fucking full of shit is what you are." The soldier outside laughed as he walked towards the fence.
Get the fuck up now, this is your only chance. Alejandro used every ounce of strength he had left to get up and onto his feet. He unstably walked towards the soldier pissing on the chain-link fence. He staggered, and almost lost his footing with every step he took, staying up on his feet through sheer willpower alone as his whole body struggled to function, his concussed brain struggling to send proper signals to his muscles. He bent over and grabbed a large rock off the ground, raising it over his head with both hands as he made his way towards the un-aware man. He reached him just as the soldier shook the last few drops from his member, and he brought the rock down hard on the back of his head. The man went down, and Alejandro followed, falling onto the soldier’s back from the effort of the attack. Alejandro repositioned himself and came down with the rock again, sounding out a wet crack as the hit caved in the man’s skull and blood shot out onto him. Just to be sure, and because he was fueled by rage, Alejandro brought the improvised weapon down one more time, practically flattening the soldier’s head.
He took a moment to catch his breath and to stop himself from losing consciousness again, the only thing keeping him going being the fact that he was a dead man if he passed out again. He searched over the man and took his sidearm, tucking it into the back of his waistband. He then pulled out the soldier’s KA-BAR from his vest and forced himself back up to his feet. He staggered back to the cabin porch, and just before walking in and unloading the magazine of the 9mm he was holding into the other soldier, he stopped himself. The girls, where did they take the girls? He's the only one here who knows. He drew the 9mm and walked up to the door.
He stepped through with the gun raised, aiming it at the soldier who sat at the table, downing a shot. The soldier looked at him for a second, and then looked back at the table before doing a double take. He jumped to his feet and reached for his sidearm. Alejandro fired, skimming his dominant arm and stopping the soldier from drawing his weapon. "What the fuck? How are you alive? Oh my god, your fucking face..." The man rambled out as he put his hands up, his expression turning from surprise, to fear, to disgust, and then finally, to horror. Alejandro waved and pointed the gun in his hand towards the ground to his left, signaling for the man to get down. After a few moments, the soldier realized what he was doing and followed the order, getting on his knees with his hands raised. "Where's Hendricks?" The soldier asked and Alejandro made a show of holding out the knife and handgun to the man. "Oh, fuck. You killed him, didn't you? Oh man, please don't kill me. I didn't hurt any of your people, honest. I was just following orders and watching the place." Alejandro swung out hard with the butt of the pistol, catching the soldier in the back of the head and knocking him out cold. He found some rope in the closet with a few other supplies that weren't taken yet and hogtied him on the ground after stripping all his weapons and gear.
As the task was completed, and the adrenaline began to wear off, he started to feel extremely light headed and nauseous, the room beginning to spin. He thought he was going to faint just as the cabin’s bedroom door creaked open and a one-armed, shadowy figure slowly stumbled down the hall. Alejandro weakly raised the pistol at Matt as he approached, his skin pale and his head hanging low as he let out shallow breaths. Matt was infected, the amputation had failed. Alejandro wanted to apologize to the boy but lacked the ability to speak. He was about to pull the trigger and end his now infected friend’s suffering, when Matt lifted his head. Matt’s head lolled to the side, the effort of supporting it seeming to be too much for the boy to bear. "Wow, you look fucking worse than I do." Matt said just before going limp and collapsing to the ground.
***
Bryce and his companions got onto the four wheelers. Byark and Vincent having to double up, while Bryce had to uncomfortably, for both of them he imagined, hold Grunt. They slowly and carefully made their way back to the main road, scanning the map to find back streets leading to the truck in order to pass by the military occupied hospital.
Upon reaching the GMC, they ditched the ATV's. The vehicles would have been useful in the future; but given the fact that they didn’t have enough gas left to reach the cabin, and the fact that they all just experienced a very uncomfortable and exposed ride on the four wheelers, the group felt no remorse leaving them behind.
They pulled up to their home just before sunrise, Bryce stopping the truck a short distance away from their sanctuary. "Why are we stopping?" Vincent said. He was lying down in the backseat with Grunt spread out on top of him.
"The fucking gate's down." Bryce drew his .45 and exited the vehicle, Grunt quickly leaping off Vincent and into the front seat to follow his owner. Byark exited the vehicle as well.
"What should I do?" Vincent asked.
"Stay here, you're unarmed." Byark answered as they approached the destroyed fence, his bow drawn. They entered the grounds, instantly finding the corpse of a man in the same military uniform that the soldiers at the hospital wore, his head completely crushed in. "Must have attacked after we left." Byark said.
"Yeah, stay sharp, might be more of them." Bryce responded as they scanned the area. Almost everything seemed in place, even the horse loudly gulping water from a troth near the fire watch tower that its reigns were tied too. After making sure there were no immediate threats present outside, they slowly made their way to the cabin door. Eddie's corpse was sprawled out on the porch, and even though Bryce didn't really know the man, his heart ached for him. He looked to Byark, the big man shaking his head solemnly with pure rage spreading across his features.
Bryce entered the cabin first, seeing another soldier face down on the floor with all his limbs tied together and sticking up into the air. He stepped closer, turning his gaze to the hallway as he caught sight of Matt lying face down on the floor as well, blood slowly trickling from his arm.
He was about to rush towards the boy in a desperate attempt to make sure he was still alive, when the cold steel of a handgun barrel was pushed against the back of his head a
nd a knife pressed up to his throat. "Alejandro don't!" Byark yelled, the blade and gun being immediately removed.
Bryce turned around and the sight caused him to jump. Alejandro stood there, his skin horribly pale and his face a bloody mess. The left side of his mouth was completely ripped open from his lips all the way back to just before his ear, a large flap of skin dangling down, and the hinge of his jaw bone and muscle tissue were clearly visible, the muscle torn, and the bone cracked. "Oh my god, what happened?" Bryce said, stepping towards the man. He felt bad for the fright that had spread through him after seeing Alejandro’s face. Alejandro went to open his mouth, recoiling in horrible pain, clearly not being able to talk. Byark searched around the cabin and came up with a pen and something to write on. Alejandro took the items to the bloody, living room table and set them down before taking a few moments to write.
We were attacked, they took girls, he knows where. Matt still alive, needs help bad.
"So do you man. Byark, go get the doctor and pull the truck up. These fuckers were all over the hospital too. We had to take out a bunch of them, but we got the medical equipment." Bryce said, putting a hand on Alejandro's shoulder. Byark turned and ran out of the cabin. "We're safe for now, take a seat so we can get you fixed up." He helped Alejandro to the couch.
Alejandro started to write something else. Not safe, they be coming back. Too many of them, we have to go.
"I know, I know. We're going to get you and Matt cleaned up real quick and then we'll pack up and get the fuck out of here, I promise."
Take him with, interrogate. Alejandro wrote again, pointing to the hogtied soldier as Bryce read the words.
"We will, I promise I'll find out everything that little fucker knows." Alejandro nodded painfully. "I'm going to check on Matt." Bryce said, standing up and walking over to the boy on the floor. He checked his pulse. "He's still alive, barely." He said, hauling him up and dragging him over to the couch. He set Matt down next to Alejandro.
"My god..." Vincent gasped as Byark and himself entered the cabin, gazing upon Matt and Alejandro.
"I'm sure you're probably wishing you stayed back at the hospital right about now, but I really need you to help them out however you can while I pack up anything that's left. We have to get out of here as soon as possible." Bryce rattled out quickly.
"Yes, of course, my wounds can wait for now. These men are in desperate need of medical attention. I'll need you to give me a hand handsome." Vincent said as he ushered Byark towards them. Vincent got an IV into Matt's arm, injecting the contents of two different, small vials into it. He had Byark hold the bag up in the air while he proceeded to clean, disinfect, and stitch up Alejandro's face.
Bryce scoured through the cabin, the RV's, the trailer, and the grounds, trying to get whatever the soldiers had left packed and ready to go. He figured that it wasn't safe to use the roads, as the soldiers would be looking for them and could be coming back here at any moment. So, he decided that they would head out into the woods, turning Catori's horse into a pack mule and hanging bags from the saddle.
The sun was cresting over the tree tops as he finished packing and Vincent finished his temporary medical treatment of the two men. Vincent and Alejandro exited the cabin and staggered forward weakly. Byark followed closely behind, holding up the unconscious Matt, the IV hanging from a piece of metal piping that was secured to the big man's back. Grunt followed them out of the house, letting out an inappropriately playful bark as he ran towards Bryce. They followed Bryce as he led the horse into the woods, the unconscious soldier hanging over the steed's back like the bags of supplies, leaving their temporary home behind them.
CHAPTER 19
Jason and McGowan walked through the camp, heading directly for Riley's quarters as instructed. Jason was extremely tired from the lack of sleep the past two nights, and the fact that the sun was just now coming up. As they moved closer, they could see a young, Native American woman being led out of Riley’s tent by one of the soldiers. Her face was bruised, and her lips were bloody. She struggled to walk, and her eyes seemed lifeless, vacantly staring at the ground. "You hear about those women?" McGowan asked as he watched the woman being led away, his face tight with anger.
"No, what about them?" Jason responded.
"They're from that camp we attacked, apparently they're the only ones they took alive. Looks like Riley's started having some fun with them, or at least what that sick son of a bitch considers fun. I won't stand for this. Them treating us like shit and making us do their bidding is one thing, but torturing, and most assuredly raping innocent women. I won't let that happen." McGowan’s fists clenched and he stopped his approach towards the tent.
"There's nothing we can do about that right now. If we try anything, we'll just end up dead and it won't make a damn bit of difference to those girls." Jason reasoned.
"One of them is a little girl, can't be much older than seven or eight. You just gonna stand by while she gets beaten and raped? Because I can't. I won’t." McGowan said adamantly.
"No, I won’t. Look, we'll figure something out, but now is not the time to do anything. Don't be stupid and get yourself or both of us killed, alright? You gotta be patient if you want to help those girls. Promise me you won't say anything to get yourself killed in there." Jason said, positioning himself to match McGowan’s thousand-yard stare. "Promise me." He said again when the older man didn't reply.
"I promise, let's just get this shit over with." He answered after another few moments of silence, turning and continuing toward Riley's tent.
"Welcome gentlemen." Riley said as they entered the tent, clearly still drunk from the night before and holding a glass of scotch in his hand. Peterson stood in the corner of the makeshift room. "I have a new assignment for you boys, a nice and easy one to reward you for a job well done the other night. Just like I promised. I want you to watch over our new guests, an eight-hour shift each. Your nigger friend is over there now."
"You mean you want us to guard your new prisoners, your new victims." McGowan said. No. No. No. Shut up, they're going to kill you.
"Do you have a problem with your new assignment?" Riley asked as if McGowan's opinion mattered to him.
"Yes, I do. You can treat us like shit all you want, but I won't sit around while you hurt those girls. You're a sick fucking man!" McGowan snapped.
"You better watch your mouth motherfucker if you ever want to speak again." Peterson said, stalking towards McGowan.
"Hold on a second Peterson.” Riley held out his hand. “Are you refusing my orders prison guard?" Riley said, bending over his desk to stare at the man.
Apologize, say whatever you have to say, don't do this.
"Yes I am. I won’t sit by any longer. I'm letting those girls go and you can't stop me." McGowan replied, turning to leave the tent.
"Treason." Riley said quietly. Locking eyes with Peterson, Riley nodded.
No.
Peterson pulled a punch knife out from one of the straps on his Kevlar vest, and quickly closed the distance to McGowan. He grabbed him by his salt and pepper hair, and repeatedly punched the blade into his back, plunging the knife deep into him. It took every ounce of willpower Jason had to stay perfectly still and to not rush in to help his friend and kill Peterson, an act that would surely mean his death. McGowan let out a horrible, gasping croak as his back arched and his legs gave out. Peterson stabbed the old man several times after he was already dead, a smile on his face as he did so. "That's enough staff sergeant, I think you got him." Riley ordered.
"Yes sir." Peterson said with a laugh, spitting on McGowan’s fresh corpse. He backed away from the body, wiping the blood and viscera off his knife and onto his pant leg.
"Do you have a problem with what just happened Jason?" Riley asked, no doubt trying to find an excuse to kill him too.
"No sir, he was an idiot and a traitor who couldn't follow orders." I
'm going to fucking kill you, both of you, if it's the last thing I do.
"And can you, follow orders that is?" Riley asked. Peterson eyed Jason like a predator eyed a rabbit, pining for a fresh kill.
"Yes sir, I'll go relieve Connor and take up my post right now if you wish." I'm going to kill you with your own knife you sick fuck, I'm going to make you bleed. His eyes calmly held Riley’s gaze as he thought about how he would kill the man who just murdered his only friend in the world.
"Well, get to it then. You'll both need to take up twelve hour shifts now that McGowan is dead, go discuss it with the nigger boy." Riley waved Jason off. Peterson eyed him with murderous intent.
"Yes sir." Jason turned to leave.
"Oh, and Jason." Riley called out.
"Yes sir." Jason turned back to face him.
"I don't have to tell you what will happen if you disobey my orders or try to let those women go do I?" Riley taunted, drawing his sidearm and placing it on the desk in front of him.
"No sir, I prefer being alive." Jason said, hoping to dissuade their suspicions. Riley waved his hand again, and Jason walked out of the tent.
Jason stormed through the camp, heading for the tent they used as a holding cell, fire burning through his veins. He would get those girls out of here, and he would kill Peterson for what he had done to McGowan, if it was the last thing he did on this earth.
As he approached the tent, he could hear desperate whispers coming from inside. He stopped and listened closely before entering. "Please, you have to get us out of here before he does anything to them, they're just girls." A woman pleaded.
"I'm sorry, I can't, it's suicide. I'm already taking a huge risk just by bringing you food and water, they'd kill me if they knew I was helping you guys out." Jason recognized Connor's voice.
"Look, if you won’t break us out, then you have to get to our camp. Tell our friends what's happened to us and where we are." A different woman with a rather strange voice said.