Jacked (10 page)

Just as it had been on the second floor, no one was outside their apartments. He eased the door open and stuck his head around the jamb so he could look in the other direction. If Tar did not know any better he would have guessed he and Toby were alone on the floor.

He motioned for his friend to follow and they stepped into the hall. The well-worn carpet muffled their footsteps and neither of them spoke as they made it to Keisler’s door. Tar knocked softly.

“Mr…” he started as soon as the door opened. That was as far as he got. The old man reached out and jerked both boys into his apartment. Mr. Keisler closed the door and held his finger up to his lips, letting them know they should not talk yet. He walked to the bookcase and opened up the hidden room, waving them in before he followed and shut the door. Only then did he let out a big breath.

“Praise God! Tar, we’ve been worried sick about you ever since those Black Shirts showed up.” He slapped his leg and frowned. “Tarnation, boys. It’s not safe for you here.”

“Mrs. Schumacher said the Black Shirts were here earlier. Did they say what they wanted?” Tar was afraid to know the answer.

“Earlier? Blast it, boy! They’re still here! There’s a whole fistful of them up with the Wendohlsoms. Somebody must have told them that the kids don’t go to school and the bullies went busting up there as fast as they could go.” The bite went out of Keisler’s voice and he looked toward the other side of the room, avoiding Tar’s face. “They’re looking for you, Tar, and another boy who was not in class today.” Keisler glanced at Toby. “I suppose that’s you, son.”

“I told you they were pinging you,” Toby said to Tar.

“You boys have got to go. You’ve got to go now,” Keisler said. “It’s not safe, it’s not…they killed a boy. According to the Lionel girl, they shot him down in the schoolyard in front of everybody.”

Tar swallowed.

“We saw it,” he said. “It was our friend. Shovel.”

“Clarence,” said Toby. “His name was Clarence Jackson. He was named after his grandfather who was killed in a war overseas. He never let anybody know but he was really proud of his name.” The boy turned away and stared at the floor.

After the silence stretched into a minute, Tar said, “They killed him because he wouldn’t tell them where to find us.”

Keisler nodded, his eyes shining in the light.

“I understand. But you’ve got to get out of here or he’ll have died for nothing. You can’t stay here. People are so frightened…Look, the folks in this building are good, honest people, but they’re scared and they’ll do things and say things to protect their families. You’ve got to go before one of them sees you and talks to the Black Shirts.”

The memory of Mr. Talarico flashed through Tar’s thoughts.

“I know, but we can’t leave yet. Uncle Jahn is out there looking for me. I can’t leave without him.”

Someone pounded on the apartment door and made all three of them jump. The blood left Mr. Keisler’s face, but then he put on a weak smile.

“I’ll get rid of them, boys. You’ll be safe in here if you stay quiet.” He walked to the hidden door. “Don’t come out until I tell you its okay.” He left the room and closed the bookcase behind him.

A few seconds later, a man’s voice sounded through the walls. It was muffled and Tar could not understand what he was saying. He glanced at Toby but the other boy just stared at the closed door, his hands balled into fists.

Tar’s head snapped around when he heard the door start to open. He wanted to melt into the floor or run as far away as he could but he stayed still beside his friend. He relaxed when his uncle burst into the room.

“Tar! I thought I’d never find you,” Jahn exclaimed.

Tar hugged his uncle. He felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes but he did not care.

“How’d you find us?”

“Helen, Mrs. Schumacher told me you came up here. We’ve got to go,” Jahn continued after a few seconds. “The Black Shirts are all over the streets.”

“Toby’s got to go with us.”

“No!” said Jahn. “It’s too dangerous. He can stay here until morning and then go home.”

“He can’t.” Tar pushed away from Jahn and looked him in the eye. “They’re already there. They are looking for him, too.” Some of the steel went out of his voice and his shoulders sagged. “We were there when they killed Shovel. They’ll do the same to him if he gets caught.”

Jahn looked back and forth between the two boys.

“Okay.” He swung a backpack off his shoulder and handed it to Tar. “I grabbed some clothes but they’re probably too small for you, Toby. You’ll have to wear some of mine. Now let’s go before they start searching the building again.”

“Write down your parents’ names and where you live, son,” Keisler said to Toby. “I’ll get word to them in a couple of days and let them know you’re safe.” He looked at Jahn. “Don’t tell me where you’re going. I don’t want to know.”

Jahn nodded and shook the man’s hand.

The four of them walked out into the apartment and Mr. Keisler looked through the peep hole, then opened the door to glance both ways.

“It’s clear. Good luck.” He put his hand on Tar’s shoulder. “I’ll miss not watching the rest of
Firefly
with you.”

“Thanks, Mr. Keisler. For everything.”

Jahn stepped into the hall and the boys followed. They were halfway to the main stairs when the sounds of glass shattering and men shouting rolled up the opening. They stopped and listened as a couple of apartment doors opened. The residents just stared—Mrs. Gillis with her mouth hanging open in horror, Mr. Goldman with his thick oversized glasses, pretty Mrs. Stephens who made him feel so funny when she smiled at him—as the sounds got closer.

“Get back inside!” hissed Jahn. “Stay there until they’re gone!”

Doors shut and soon only the three of them were standing in the open. Jahn turned and began walking quickly in the other direction.

“We’ll use the back stairs,” he said. “Hopefully they aren’t watching it.”

Just then Mr. Lionel walked around the corner of the hall. His wide frame looked even bigger as he moved toward them, his face twisted in anger. Tar stumbled and glanced nervously at Toby who returned the look. His uncle, however, kept moving forward so they stayed right on his heels.

“You’ll never make it that way,” Lionel said. “Black Shirts are in the stairwell.”

Jahn and the two boys stopped. Tar looked back toward the main stairs.

“We’ll never make it to the front door,” he said.

“Try the other side stairwell,” Lionel said. If you can make it, go all the way to the basement. Along the back wall is a door that leads…well, I’m not sure where it leads but it has to go somewhere outside.”

“I know the one,” said Tar.

“If you can get outside and hide in the back of my truck, I’ll drive you out of here.”

“But…” Jahn started.

“Go. Now!”

The boys broke into a sprint. Tar glanced over his shoulder and saw his uncle following, half-running, half-limping, as fast as he could manage. Toby led the way past the main stairs but never broke stride. Tar also ran past, fear adding speed to his feet. The noise from the men was so close now he expected a black-sleeved arm to reach out and grab him but he made it untouched. Another glance back showed Uncle Jahn made it safely, as well.

Another twist and turn in the hall and Toby reached the stairwell door. He cracked it open, listening for anyone inside.

“It’s quiet,” he said in a hushed voice.

Tar looked back at Jahn, who caught up to them, his face pale and sweaty.

“Okay, let’s go,” Tar said. “But we’ll have to be quiet.”

Toby looked over the top of Tar’s head at Jahn and nodded, then stepped into the stairwell as Jahn gulped at the air like a starving man. Tar reached for him but he waved the boy on.

They made it down four flights when a door slammed against the walls of the stairwell. Voices rained down on their heads, echoing over the sharp crack of metal, and boot steps quickly followed. The Black Shirts were coming down from above.

Tar could not help himself. He leaned over the rail and looked up. Shouts broke out and, several stories above, he saw two of them looking down.

“There’s a boy! You! Stop! Go get him!”

The footsteps picked up speed. The trio gave up all hope of silence. Toby jumped down the last few steps of every flight and Tar felt on the verge of out of control, barely keeping his balance by gripping the rail as he sprinted down the steps. At every switch back he glanced up at Jahn but the distance between them was rapidly increasing. By the time he reached the last turn to the basement his uncle was no longer in sight. He hesitated with one foot on the landing and one on the first step.

“Come on!” hissed Toby. “The door’s unlocked!”

Just then Jahn lurched into view. His uncle put his arm over Tar’s shoulders and together they moved down the final flight.

“Don’t…wait…again,” Jahn managed between gasps for air. “Just…go.”

Toby ripped open the door and the three ran into the dimly-lit basement. It had been a few months since Tar had been in the depths of the apartment building but, back when Jahn had not allowed him to walk the streets alone, Tar had grepped through every inch in the dark and dust down here. Mr. Coppen had let him roam wherever he wanted as long as he did not mess with the mechanical equipment. As time passed the man showed him how much of the stuff worked and Tar had grepped other, deserted buildings twice for replacement parts.

“The door won’t lock,” Toby said, his face cast in shadow.

“It’s not far,” answered Tar. “This way.”

He took the lead now, turning right at the first chance, and then following the back wall. It was too dark to run in the cluttered mess of discarded furniture and half-completed projects. Coppen had always been in the process of fixing lots of items for different tenants. After he had died Tar had intended to clean up the space, possibly to use for himself, but had never gotten around to it.

Tar sidestepped between two stacks of boxes before talking back over his shoulder.

“It’s right here.”

More boxes sat in an old recliner in front of double doors with a few boards and a ladder leaning behind it. Toby made it through the maze of clutter and helped Tar slide the chair aside. Tar reached for one of the boards when the basement door banged open.

Tar stared at Toby and then Jahn. His uncle gestured wildly at the boards and the door before turning back to face the direction they had come from.

Voices wound their way through the basement. For a moment Tar panicked, unable to do anything but listen. Toby pushed him in the shoulder hard enough to snap him out of his fear and Tar handed over the first board. He continued handing them over, with a few quick glances at his uncle’s back for a warning sign, and in less than a minute Toby had them stacked neatly against the nearby shelving unit. A moment later the small utility ladder stood beside them.

Toby gestured at the door and Tar reached for it before stopping and turning back to his friend. He shook his head and pointed at his uncle. Toby tapped Jahn’s elbow and he turned his head.

“It’s going to make a noise when I unlock it,” Tar whispered, the words barely louder than a breath.

Jahn nodded and looked down at his feet. A moment later he walked over and brought back the ladder. He positioned it parallel to the doors, about two feet from where they met in the middle.

“As soon as you open it get in as fast as you can,” he whispered. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Tar stepped over to the tech box and Toby moved behind him. He reached out and a second later the door clicked open.

“What was that?” said a voice from the far side of the basement.

That was all Tar heard as he stepped through the opening into the dark with Toby on his heels. Jahn followed but he moved slowly, holding his arm back through the opening and easing the door shut. The bolt clicked back into place, echoing in their space.

They did not move and Tar barely breathed. Muffled voices, growing louder with every second, approached the door.

“I don’t know,” one said. “I’d a swore it came from over here.”

“Move that ladder and check the door,” said another.

The knob wiggled and the doors pulled back roughly against the bolt.

“Locked,” said the first voice.

“Come on,” said a new voice. “Let’s check over there. We’d better hurry. If we don’t find that boy, Ludler’s going to take it out on one of us.”

The voices moved away, growing softer.

“Do either of you have a light?” asked Jahn.

Tar reached into his backpack and pulled out the box they had used earlier at the mall. He turned it on and light filled the immediate area.

At first it appeared to be a small concrete room—sides, floor, and ceiling—but then Tar noticed the far end opened to the right. They walked down and saw the floor tilted up at an angle until it stopped flat against a metal ceiling.

“There’s our way out,” said Jahn. “It’s an unloading area for stuff that was too big to carry through the front. You just wheeled it down here on a dolly and then used the elevator to take it up to the right floor.”

Tar shined the light around the far end.

I don’t see a tech box.”

They moved forward until they could no longer stand upright.

“Shine that light over here,” Toby said. When Tar turned to the side all three of them saw a crank attached to two six-inch bars of steel thrust into each door frame.

“How do we move it?” asked Tar. “There’s no way we can lift that door.”

“Look,” Toby said as he pointed to where the door met the wall. “That looks like a track. I’ll bet it slides open.” Both boys looked at Jahn.

“I never seen one do that but it’s as good a guess as any. Let’s only open it far enough to get out.”

The crank did not budge on the first try but together Toby and Tar muscled it free and the bars slid back. Just as Toby had guessed the door moved on the tracks and soon Tar was peeking out through a small opening at the night sky.

“I don’t see anybody,” he whispered back inside.

He rolled out into the open, gravel and bits of concrete biting into his knees as he moved out of the way. Toby and Jahn joined him and they pulled the door shut again.