Broken Ties: A Tale of Survival in a Powerless World (Broken Lines Book 3) (14 page)

              Mike didn’t know the man who just let him out, but he didn’t care. He had his daughter again. It was a small victory for the high cost he paid today.

              “Are you Mike or Ulysses?” Sam asked.

              “Mike.”

              “I’m Sam. Your wife sent me. I came in with Nelson’s wife, Katie. We need to get out of here. I don’t know how many of these guys are left, but I’ve already taken out two.”

              “Give me one of your pistols.”

              Sam tossed Mike one of his 9mms.

              “Any extra magazines?” Mike asked.

              Sam handed him two of the magazines he had on him. Mike tucked them into his pocket then clicked the gun’s safety off.

              “Take them back to the cabin,” Mike said.

              “Whoa, you’re not in any condition to do what I think you’re going to do,” Sam said.

              “This isn’t any of your business.”

              “Maybe, but I do know that rule number one of war is you only start one if there’s a chance of winning.”

              “I didn’t start this.”

              Mike disappeared out of the sheriff’s office, leaving Sam with Kalen and Mary.

              “Shit.”

              Sam grabbed the girls and gave them the same instructions he did to Jung. He handed Kalen the other pistol he had.

              “You shoot anyone you don’t know.”

              Kalen grabbed Mary, and the two of them leaned on each other, with Kalen gripping the pistol in her right hand as they walked out the door.

              Mike was already out of sight when Sam made it to the motel. Sam scanned the top floor when he heard the first shots go off in a room down the hall.

              “Here we go,” Sam said.

              Once the gunfire went off, the remaining bikers flew out of their rooms, guns loaded, looking to shoot anything that moved.

              Sam picked off the first one easy. The other six were smarter than their friends. Whoever Mike was looking for must not have been anyone who came out on the first floor because he went straight for the back of the motel.

              Sam didn’t let up. His training kicked in, and he advanced, moving closer to engage, funneling the bikers into a corner.

              It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Each shot Sam squeezed off either killed someone or exposed them from their cover.

The only exit the biker’s had was to retreat back into the rooms, and from there they wouldn’t have anywhere to go.

              One biker made a run for it in the opposite direction, thinking he could outrun the bead Sam had on him. He was wrong.

              The biker’s jaw exploded off his face, and he dropped to the ground. There were only three of them left now; that’s when the bargaining started.

              “All right. We don’t want any more trouble.”

              “Getting tired?” Sam shouted back.

              “We just want to get out of here in one piece.”

              Sam reloaded the rifle with his last magazine.

              “So did those girls,” Sam said.

              He knew he had them on the ropes now. He jumped up from behind the stone fountain he positioned himself against and fired into the corner, where the bikers tried to hide behind the staircase.

              Sam sent two shots through the space in the steps and sent each bullet through an eye of the gang members.

              Frankie was the only left. He jumped from behind the staircase and aimed his pistol at Sam, but when he squeezed the trigger, all that came out was the click of the firing pin. Sam lowered his rifle.

              “Empty,” Sam said.

              The biker tossed his gun on the ground and threw his hands in the air.

              “You think we’ll be the last? There will be more people like me. You won’t be able to kill us all.”

              Sam pulled the knife out. Tank’s blood was still stained on the blade.

              “Maybe not, but you’ll do for now.”

***

              Mike knew he was out there. He saw him run around back, trying to escape. All of his rage was focused on one point; kill Jake.

              The pain shooting through his body didn’t faze him. He wheezed with every breath, a knife-like pain stabbed his lung, his hands felt like they were going to break off, but he pushed through it.

              He limped along the backside of the stores. When he made it to the edge, he could see Jake running back up Main Street by the storefronts. He was trying to flank Sam.

              Mike sprinted as fast as he could. Every movement and breath was like swallowing glass, feeling it scrape along his insides as it slid down his throat and into his stomach.

              When Mike heard the gunshot go off, his pace quickened, then when he turned the corner onto Main Street, he saw Jake lying on the road with Kalen towering over him.

              “No,” he whispered.

              Killing was something you never came back from. It changed you, turned you into something else. That was what it did to him. You couldn’t unpull the trigger. You couldn’t rechamber that bullet once it had been fired.

              Jake’s blood pooled on the street, oozing from his neck where Kalen had shot him. Whatever childhood she had left in her was gone forever.

              Freddy waited until he couldn’t hear the Jeep’s engine anymore before he opened the door to his room. He and Sean had stayed hidden inside when Jung was tying everyone up.

              Freddy wanted to do something. He wanted to help, but Sean was too scared to move, so Freddy stayed with him. They hid under the bed until Freddy was sure Jung was long gone.

              When Freddy came out, his mother let out a sigh of relief.

              “Freddy, thank God,” Anne said.

              “Mom, are you okay?” Freddy asked.

              “I’m fine, sweetheart. See if you can find some scissors in the kitchen.”

              Sean ran to his mom, burying his face into her stomach.

              “I’m sorry I didn’t help. I was scared.”

              “It’s okay,” Katie said. “I’m glad you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

              Freddy found the scissors in one of the kitchen drawers and started cutting everyone loose. Anne and Fay were the first ones out the door, but came back in quickly.

              “He’s long gone now,” Fay said.

              “Why would he do that? I know his wife’s sick, but did he really think this was his best option?” Katie asked.

              “Desperate people do desperate things,” Fay said, picking up the revolver Jung had left behind.

              Ray propped himself up in a sitting position after Freddy took the zip ties off him. He had his leg on the coffee table and was gently adjusting the splint around it.

              “So, what’s the call, Anne?” Ray asked.

              “What?”

              “Well, right now we know three things: Mike, Ulysses, and Tom are in trouble, Jung took the Jeep, and Sam went to go help Mike. Assuming Sam doesn’t come back and the bikers come looking for us, our one chance of escape is now gone. ”

              “You think we should leave?”

              “That’s your call, Anne. This is your place, and it’s your family down there.”

              Anne knew he was right. She had to be the one who made the call. What did Mike always tell her?
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

              “We’ll head to the farm. If things turn that bad, then we’ll have a better place to defend ourselves. We’ll be able to see them coming. If we stay here we’re sitting ducks, especially if they come back tonight,” Anne said.

              “What if Mike comes back?” Fay asked.

              “If he comes back, then he’ll know where we went. The farm will be the first place he checks. Better to cause him a little worry now and keep everyone safe than try and be stubborn and stay here,” Anne answered.

              There was only one problem with the plan they had, and everyone knew it. They just didn’t say it out loud.

              Ray couldn’t make the journey to the farm, and if the bikers came back tonight, he wouldn’t survive.

              “I’ll be fine, Anne,” Ray said, responding to the look on her face.

              “I don’t know how we’re going to move you, Ray, but we will.”

              “You leave me a twelve-gauge and a box of shells, and I’ll give anyone who comes through that door a nice surprise.”

              “They still have the cart. If we bring it back, we can wheel him out of here,” Fay said. “Just like we did with Jung’s wife.”

              “Let’s get started,” Anne said.

              Anne had everyone grab a few things. There was the potential of them never coming back, so whatever they didn’t want to lose she told them to bring with them.

              Fay still had her rifle. Anne picked up the pistol that Jung left behind and grabbed a new box of ammo, along with some rations, water, first aid kit, and a few spare articles of clothing. She packed enough for both her and Freddy.

              There was one shotgun left that they handed to Ray with a box of shells. They moved him over to a chair in the living room where he had a better angle at the door and was hidden from the view of the window.

              “We’ll be back, Ray,” Anne said.

              “I’ll be here when you do.”

              Once everything was packed up, Fay led the group through the trees to Ken’s farm. Anne looked back at the cabin as they departed. This was the second time she was forced to leave her home. It was easier this time, leaving, and that sense of detachment worried her. She wasn’t sure if her family would really ever have a home again.

***

              Fay was greeted with the barrel of a shotgun sticking in her face when Ken opened the door to their house. It must have been close to midnight by the time they arrived, and the late-night call did nothing to improve Ken’s already less than cordial manner in regards to visitors.

              “What in the hell are you people doing here at this time of night?” Ken asked.

              “We have a reservation,” Fay answered.

              “Don’t get smart with me, woman.”

              Anne pushed her way to the front of the group. From Mike’s description of Ken, she knew what she was walking into. Even with the agreement he had set up with Mike, there wasn’t a guarantee that he’d help them, but he was their last hope.

              “Mr. Murth, my name’s Anne Grant. You spoke with my husband earlier today,” Anne said.

              “What does that have to do with your visit?”

              “I know you’re aware of the biker gang in town?”

              “Yeah.”

              “I think they may be on their way to the cabin. I was hoping we would be able to stay with you until my husband comes back.”

              “If your husband went down to face that gang, then he’s as good as dead. And so is our agreement.”

              Ken went to slam the door shut, but Anne grabbed it before it closed. She could only see a sliver of his profile through the crack of the door.

              “The agreement will still be honored. We can help you bring the ammo back here. One of the members in our group has a broken leg. If we can use the cart to bring him back, we can load the rest of the ammo in with him,” Anne said.

              The door neither opened nor closed any further.

              “All of it?” Ken asked.

              “Yes.”

              Anne took her hand off the door. Ken slammed it quickly. The one thing she tried to do to save her family didn’t work. They had nowhere else to go, and without the cart to wheel Ray to safety, there was no telling what kind of fate would befall him.

              When the front door swung open, Anne jumped back as Ken stepped out with his rifle slung over his shoulder.

              “The cart’s around back. I’ll need someone to come with me to help carry it back,” Ken said.

              “I’ll come with you,” Anne said.

              “No, him,” Ken said pointing at Nelson. “I’ll need somebody who can pull the weight we’ll have to deal with.”

              Anne started to protest, but Nelson assured her it was fine. Before he took off, Anne slipped him the revolver. He didn’t say anything when he felt it fall into his hand. He simply nodded and hid the gun in his pants pocket.

              Nelson kissed Katie and Sean and headed off with the cart in tow back toward the cabin.

***

              Freddy and Sean shared the couch in the living room, while Anne, Katie, Fay, and Beth sat in the kitchen. Beth grabbed a kettle of tea from the stove and poured them each a cup.

              “We can’t thank you enough, Mrs. Murth,” Katie said.

              “I should thank you. With that ammo we’ll be able to hunt until Ken and I are in the dirt.”

              The steam rose from the cup. Katie put it to her lips and sipped slowly. The warm blast of liquid scorched her tongue and lips.

              “If that isn’t warm enough for you…” Beth said, pulling a flask from her pocket. “This might help.”

              Katie smiled and extended her cup, then winced when she took a sip.

              “That’s… strong,” Katie said.

              Beth poured some in Fay’s, but Anne declined. Beth took a swig straight from the flask and tucked it back into her pocket.

              “Hard day calls for a hard drink,” Beth said.

              “How long have you and Ken been married?” Katie asked.

              “Going on thirty years now.”

              “Nelson and I just hit our fifteenth this past year. Anne, you and Mike have been married for twenty years?”

              “Twenty-five next spring.”

              Katie glanced at Fay who held up her barren left hand.

              “Divorced,” Fay said.

              “I’m sorry,” Katie said.

              “I’m not.”

              Katie glanced around the house. She admired the rustic look of the home. She wasn’t sure if it was a look by design or of purpose. Judging from the look of Beth and her husband, she figured it was the latter.

              Then Katie’s eyes landed on the crucifix hanging high on the wall in the kitchen. It was an old piece, but kept in good condition. The polish of the metal shined and reflected the candlelight.

              “That’s beautiful,” Katie said, pointing to the crucifix.

              “That’s been in my family for five generations,” Beth answered. “It’s always been passed down to the eldest daughter in the family.”

              “Do you have any daughters?” Katie asked.

              “No, just Billy and Joey.”

              “I’m sure it’ll be hard giving it away to one of their wives once they’re married.”

              “No, I won’t be giving it to their wives.”

              “Why?”

              “That crucifix doesn’t just represent the blood of Christ, it has the blood of my family. It’s been with us through wars, droughts, depressions, and no matter what has come our way we’ve always survived. My family has always found a way. It’s never easy pushing through hell, but we did it, and we’ll keep doing it. Some woman from the outside wouldn’t understand that. They wouldn’t appreciate what that pain means.”

              Beth pulled the flask back out and took another swig. Katie thought it was an odd statement to make, but agreed that the pain you went through to push forward couldn’t truly be appreciated unless experienced firsthand.

              There was an exultation that came from conquering that pain, but when Beth spoke, her tone had no hope, no redemption. It was as if the pain was there not to make you stronger, but make you callous.

              “I’ll run and grab you ladies some sheets. I’m sure the boys will be back soon. It’s been a long day,” Beth said.