Into The Darkness (21 page)

Dylan
slowly lowered his rifle and said, “No, patch her up.”

With
a quick slice of the tape, the box was open. Doc tossed a bag of saline
solution and some plastic tubing to Bull, who spiked the IV bag with the
plastic tubing as Doc felt for a vein in the woman’s arm. Doc wiped her upper
forearm with an alcohol pad and inserted a needle into a nearly collapsed vein.
The tubing to the IV solution was connected to the needle and the bag began to
drip fluid back into Dorothy’s body. Bull placed the bag on a pole and stepped back
just as Doc stood and faced the men again.

With
irritation Bull asked, “Well then, what do you want? If you’re not going to
kill us, just leave here, just go away.”

“Listen
to me, asshole. It wasn’t my idea to come here,” said Dylan sternly to Bull, and
also casting a critical glare at Doc. “My friend was on his way to settle a
score and I was right behind him. As a matter of fact we would’ve been taking
care of business by now if you hadn’t interfered.”

Doc
tilted his head forward submissively, and his thick glasses slid lower on his
nose. “What’s your business? Revenge? Extortion? Robbery?”

“It’s
Cyrus. I’m going to kill him,” stated Kevin. “I’m fine with leaving now and
doing that.”

“Do
you know where he is?” asked Bull.

“There’s
an Amtrak train stuck at the railroad hub, and his gang is staying in the
sleeper cars. We guess that the rain will have driven them inside, and that’s
where we’re going to hit them while they sleep.”

Doc’s
face broke into a slow smile. This was the information and the opportunity he
was looking for. Bull showed no emotion, but they could see that his mind was
savoring this information, as his glance moved slowly toward the far wall and
the ceiling, looking at nothing in particular.

Doc
pushed his glasses back up again and said authoritatively to Bull, “Go get
Hector. I’ll stay with Dorothy.”

Bull
immediately turned and opened the door. He was halfway out when Doc had one
more request. “Please explain to the men our…shall we say…misunderstanding with
these gentlemen.” Bull nodded and left the room.

“We
are going with you,” said Doc.

Doc
did not wait for a response. He turned his back to Dylan and Kevin, reaching
for Dorothy’s wrist to check her pulse. He confidently nodded his head in
agreement with himself regarding his assessment of her condition. He connected
a new bag of saline solution to the IV and decreased the solution’s flow rate
into her arm.

“You
know you’re going to need our help…don’t you?” said Doc assuredly, as he
flicked his finger against the IV’s clear plastic drip chamber, trying to
remove some small bubbles. “Cyrus has a lot of men. His gang is getting bigger
every day.”

“Keep
talking,” said Kevin.

“He
is a real threat to our survival. We have to go through that area to get water
from the river. Getting coal off the coal cars was helpful, too. Cyrus has
changed that for us, so he has to go. I won’t ask you what your motivation is,
but I think we share a common goal.”

“I’m
still listening,” said Kevin.

“There
are at least half a dozen very capable men in our group that will go with you.
One of them is Hector, and Bull is getting him now. Hector was a foreman at the
railroad hub before the grid went down.”

There
was quick knock on the door. Bull and Hector stepped into the room. Hector
looked at the weapons still in the hands of Dylan and Kevin. Although he was
just told that they were not a threat, Hector kept a cautious eye on the two
men. He gave a quick nod as a greeting and stayed several paces away from both
of them. Hector wore a loose shirt that covered his beltline, and had tucked his
pistol into the back of his pants. He stood with one hand behind his back in an
unthreatening, but ready, position. Hector was a native of Mexico and had come
to America with his parents when he was young. Although he did finally gain US citizenship
through military service, his early years in the U.S. were nomadic and rough.
His parents worked difficult jobs for little money, and so did Hector. He had
lived in dangerous neighborhoods all his life, learning early on not to trust
anyone, and most of all, to stay well armed.

“Gentlemen,
this is Hector.” Doc cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Our pleasantries were not
extended to formal introductions yet. What are your names, anyway?” asked Doc,
as he used both hands to move the thick glasses to the correct position on his
face.

Dylan
noticed the distant stance and the unblinking stare of Hector, and then
realized that he had not completely aimed his rifle downward. He pointed the
barrel to the floor, and then introduced himself and Kevin to Hector. Hector
nodded his head again to acknowledge the greeting.

“Gentlemen,
you need to go. I will stay with Dorothy. Discuss a plan of action and execute
it…and Cyrus, if you like,” Doc said, with a euphoric laugh.

“Hold
it. I haven’t agreed to anything yet. One condition isn’t negotiable for me. I
get to kill Cyrus,” Kevin said, with absolute resolution. “Any problems with
that?”

Bull
looked around at the group and said, “I don’t care who does it.”

Everyone
nodded, and an alliance was formed.

Doc
motioned with his hands, waving the men toward the door. “Move along, you’re
wasting time. Find the other men and get going.”

Bull
opened the door for the men to leave the room. Dylan and Kevin could see the
rest of the concrete structure they were standing in. It was a multilevel
concrete parking garage. Bull led them around the structure and gave them a
tour of the different levels as they gathered men for the nighttime raid
against Cyrus. They started at the top level, where there were water buckets to
catch rain. There were also wind turbines made from alternators they had
removed from cars. The alternators had makeshift blades attached so that when
the wind blew, it would turn the alternators, creating an electric current, and
charge the car batteries. Those batteries ran their electric lights. They also
were able to recharge batteries for handheld flashlights. He explained that the
concrete structure was much like a medieval castle, with the height of the top
level being useful as a lookout, and the concrete walls providing protection
against bullets. The concrete garage would also not burn down. Fires were why
so many people had ended up homeless. People’s homes had been burning down
because of candles, inadequate fireplaces, and pure stupidity in using fire in
their homes. Bull thought that the number of fires during the coming winter
would be astronomical.

The
underground levels of the concrete structure would remain cool in the summer,
and because they were so far underground, would not get below freezing. The
lowest levels were much like a cave. The food they had scavenged was stored
below. That would keep them through the winter months. People who were homeless
and without food could easily die over the winter. In the spring, they would to
plant the seeds that they had stored, and hopefully be able to raise their own
food. It would not take long to scavenge all the canned food and boxed goods. They
all knew that it was critical to become self-sufficient.

Bull
brought all the men to the lower level. He flipped a switch and the cavernous
space was illuminated by the power of car batteries. He directed them to sit at
a large table so they could discuss a plan of action. Hector used a piece of
coal and created a rough map of the area where Cyrus was. He estimated there
were nine sleeper cars and they were on the far side of the rail hub, closest
to the river. The entry doors to the sleeper cars were on the west side and the
river was on the east side of the tracks.

“Okay,
Hector, how do we do this?” asked Bull.

Hector
tossed the piece of coal to the ground and brushed the coal dust off his hands.
He walked over to a small crate in a dark corner, grabbed something from it,
and returned to the table. “This will get us started. Bullets will do the
rest.” Hector was displaying a stick of dynamite.

“You’re
the only one who knows how to use it,” said Bull skeptically. “And we only have
a few sticks.”

“That’s
right, four sticks exactly. We put this under every other car that they’re in,
and boom, they wake up, run out of the cars scared to death, and our bullets
take over from there.”

“How
do we know which car Cyrus is in?” asked Kevin.

All
the men looked to Hector for an answer. Hector scratched his head. “That’s a
good question. Here’s a guess. When we get there, we’ll see if they have anyone
on watch. If so, they’ll be near where Cyrus is sleeping. That’ll be your car.”
He pointed to Kevin. “If they have someone on night watch, it’ll be somebody low
in the organization, probably someone stupid and easy to control. That will
make them an easy target for us.”

“What
are the details of your plan, then?” asked Dylan.

“If
there’s someone on watch, we get them with a rifle, and then wait to see if
anyone heard the shot. If not, I sneak up and place the dynamite under the
sleeper cars. We set off the dynamite and wait for them to run out. Then when
they run out, we pick them off one by one.”

“What
if they hear the shot that takes out the night watchman?” asked Bull.

“We
will shoot through the walls and windows of the rail cars. That option isn’t as
good.”

“The
dynamite won’t blow up the cars?” asked Kevin.

“No,
those cars have a massive steel undercarriage. One stick will just motivate
them to leave.”

Dylan
removed the two hand grenades from his backpack and placed them on the table.
Hector smiled and leaned over to get one. He placed it on the palm of his hand
and held it up to the light like a precious gem.

“It’s
been awhile since I’ve used one of these. I was in the army for a few years.
That’s where I was able to play with these. Where did you get them?”

Dylan
pointed to Kevin. “We passed by a military base and got a few things a while
ago. It’s a long story.”

“You’re
going to have another story after this night.” Hector leaned over to grab the
other grenade from the table. “You mind if I work with these?”

Dylan
and Kevin both shrugged.

“Let’s
get going,” ordered Bull.

The
eight men stopped when they could see a fire near the Amtrak cars. The cars
were exactly where Hector thought, in an open area next to the river. They
faced the side of the cars with the exit doors. To get out of the cars on the
other side, near the river, would require someone to climb out the windows. In
a hasty retreat, Cyrus’s men are going to run out the doors, and to their
death. Hector went ahead alone to see if there was anybody on night guard duty.
He returned and confirmed that one person was on watch near the lead car.

Slightly
out of breath, Hector began to give out orders. “Kevin gets the lead car. That
looks like it’s probably Cyrus’s location. Dylan, you get the next car after
that. The rest of us will spread out along the remaining cars. There are nine
cars total. If there are about ten people per car, then there’s close to ninety
men in there. Make your bullets count.”

A
man with a rifle and large scope stepped forward and said, “I’m ready.”

Hector
grabbed the man’s shoulder and said, “He’s standing by the fire. If he’s been staring
into the firelight, he’ll be fire blind and won’t see you. Take him out, and stay
low to the ground. If they start coming out, shoot to kill and we’ll come running.
If it stays quiet, cover me. I’m going to place the dynamite.”

The
man disappeared into the darkness, moving toward the campfire. It was only a
few minutes later that they heard a distant crack. The night guard’s body
slumped over by the fire and the sleeper cars remained quiet.

“You’re
up, Hector,” whispered Bull.

Hector
slipped ahead to get the dynamite place, while the other men got into position.
By the time all the men were about fifty yards away, Hector had the dynamite
placed under the railcars. He ran back to them with the detonation cord in
hand. He placed it on the ground and walked the line of men, having each one
double check his weapon and placement of extra ammunition. He told each man to
stay flat on the ground until ten seconds after the explosion, just in case of
flying debris, then to stay spread out and low, to avoid crossing into
someone’s line of fire.

Hector
connected the detonator and whispered to himself, “Fire in the hole.”

The
dynamite’s blast shook the railcars. Cyrus’s men stumbled down the steps, dazed
and confused. They were unorganized and undisciplined, and most ran quickly
into the line of fire and to their deaths. Within a few minutes, the shooting
stopped. A few men held out. They were shouting obscenities and threatening to
kill everyone outside. Hector stayed low and crawled to a broken window of a
car that still had some of Cyrus’s men inside. Gripping a grenade, he pulled
the pin and tossed the grenade into the car. The fragmentation grenade obliterated
the remaining men. Bullets and shrapnel perforated all of the cars, except the
lead. It was the car that they had expected Cyrus to be in, and Kevin was
watching it intently, waiting for any movement, but he saw no one. Dylan came
over to Kevin’s position.