Karen MacInerney - Margie Peterson 01 - Mother's Day Out (31 page)

Peaches turned to me.  “There are two entrances, right?”

“That’s all I know of.  There’s the main door on the corner, there, and then there’s the loading dock in the back.”

“Why don’t I take one of the doors?” Jess said.  “That way, if they try to sneak out the back, it’s covered.”

Peaches nodded.  “Good idea.  If you’ll cover the loading dock, we’ll take the main door.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jess said, and trotted around the building.  When he’d disappeared, Peaches adjusted her cleavage.  “Are you sure this dress doesn’t make me look fat?”

“You look fine.  Now, can we get this over with?”

She tightened her grip on the gun and the stun gun.  “Ready?

“I guess it’s now or never.”  We set off across the street, my still-bare, torn-up feet howling with every step. 

A chill swept through me as we crossed the appliance graveyard.  What was I doing? Last time I went in there, they had taped me up and stuck me in a delivery truck destined for God knows where.  This time I had a gun, and Peaches, but I wasn’t sure how much good it would do me.  I remembered seeing only a couple of guards, but I wasn’t really sure.  Maybe the rest of them were on their lunch break.

As we approached the door on the corner of the building—the small one, not the big loading dock—Peaches pointed to a spot a few feet to the left of the door.  “Stand there,” she hissed.  “Right next to me.”

I moved toward the peeling concrete wall and squeezed the stun gun hard. 

“Ready?” Peaches whispered.

I nodded.

She hauled off and whacked the door with the butt of her gun, yelling “Immigration! Open up!”

Silence.

She banged again.  “Immigration! We have the building surrounded! Open up
now
!”

A moment later, a shuffling sound came from behind the door.  Peaches flattened herself against the wall beside me as the deadbolt clicked back.  When the door opened, Peaches thrust her gun through the opening and yelled, “Come out with your hands up!”

When a short dark man in a grubby t-shirt and jeans inched through the doorway, looking surprised to find himself face-to-face with a buxom woman in lime green spandex instead of a guy in blue polyester, Peaches gave me a quick nod.  I stepped forward and hit the button on the stun gun.  Instantly, the man crumpled to the ground.

Peaches peered through the open door.  “That was easy.”  Then she waved to me.  “It’s clear.  Come on.”

We slid into the darkened warehouse, the massive machines lit only by the pale light of the moon seeping through the skylights.  “Where is everyone?” I whispered.

“I don’t know.  But I bet we’ll find out soon.  Try to stay covered.”  We darted from the doorway to crouch behind one of the cutting tables.  “Where are the workers?”

I pointed to the doorway to the loading dock.  “Through there,” I whispered.  “But there’s a big glass wall up there,” I said, nodding toward the black glass on the second floor.  “Anyone who’s up there can see what we’re doing.”

“We’ll just have to be careful, then.”

We had made it halfway across the floor when the glass shattered above our heads, and a piece of the sewing machine next to us flew into the air.  A split second later, the hard ping of metal on metal ricocheted around the room.

“Stay down!” Peaches hissed.  I was already flat on my belly under a table, but I appreciated the tip.  She ducked behind a machine and let off a few rounds in the direction of the window.  The glass exploded.  Then it was silent, except for the occasional tinkle of a piece of falling glass.  “Come on!” Peaches darted forward.  I scrabbled out from under the table and tried to keep up with her.  We were just ten yards from the door when three more bullets whizzed past us.  I ducked again, smelling burnt hair.

“Peaches! Are you okay?”

“Took a chunk out of my hair, the bastards.” 

“At least that’s all they hit,” I hissed back.

She peered over the edge of a machine and popped off a few rounds in the direction of the gunshots.  Then she grabbed my arm.  “Let’s go!”

Another bullet zinged by as we dashed toward the door and flattened ourselves against the wall.  Peaches listened for a moment.  Then she crept over, pulled the door open, and retreated to the wall.  When nothing happened, she edged over to it and peered in.  Then she slipped through it, waving to me to follow. 

Except for a pale sliver of moonlight through the open door, the room was pitch black.  “At least there’s no welcoming party in here.  They must be short-staffed.  Where are they keeping everyone?” Peaches asked.

“Over there,” I said, pointing toward where I remembered seeing the hallway.  “Should we let Jess in?”

“Maybe,” she said.  “If we can do it without getting shot.  Where’s the loading dock door?”

I stepped forward, hands in front of me, until my fingers touched metal.  “It’s here.”  A second later, she bumped into me.  “What do we do now?” I asked.

“I wish we had radios, or something.  I guess we just knock and hope he can hear us.”

“What about the other guys?”

“Can you cover the hallway?”

“I guess so.”  As I walked over in the general direction of the hallway door, the silence was broken by a gunshot.  “Don’t count on it, though.”

I felt for the wall in the darkness, and fumbled along it until I got to the opening that led to the hall.  Then I planted myself next to it and gripped the stun gun in my hand.  There was no way I was going to go down that hallway alone, but at least I could surprise anyone coming through it.  As I guarded the doorway to the hall, Peaches knocked on the loading dock door.

“I don’t know if he can hear me,” she said. 

“I’m not sure you can open it even if he could,” I said.  “I bet it’s locked.”

A moment later, she said, “You’re right.  But I have the key.”

“You found the key?”

A crack sounded, followed by ping of a bullet ricocheting around the small room.  “Yup,” she said.

“Peaches! You could have killed me!”

“In case you forgot, there’s a couple of guys at the end of that hallway who have just that in mind.  And unless you want to head back across the floor out there, we were gonna need another exit, anyway.  Now, let’s just hope Jess recognizes me before he takes my legs out.  I just bought these shoes, and it would be a shame to have to give them away.”  Something rumbled from the direction of her voice, and the faint light of sodium streetlamps filtered into the room, silhouetting Peaches’s curvy form.

“So far, so good,” she said.

A moment later, Jess trotted through the open loading dock door.  “Are you two okay? I heard gunshots.”

“We’re fine for now,” said Peaches.  “But we’ve got a problem at the end of that hallway.”

He squinted into the darkness.  “Is that where we’re going?”

“Of course,” Peaches said.

Jess turned to me.  “You know where they’re keeping them?”

I nodded.  “First door on the right.”

“Tell you what.  Why don’t I fire a few shots down there, clear out whoever’s down there.”  He glanced at the loading dock door.  “We should probably close that, though. The light behind us will make us sitting ducks.” 

I walked over and tugged at the door.  Although the room was darker, the double doors were still open.  “Is that going to be okay?” I asked, pointing to the moonlight leaking in from the factory floor.  Unfortunately, the only way to get to the double doors was to cross in front of the hallway door, providing an easy target to the gunmen who were doubtless lurking at the other end of the hall. 

“It would be better to close it,” he said.  “How about I take a couple of shots, then one of you gals run over and close it up?”

“I’m on it,” Peaches said.  A moment later, a shotgun blast exploded from the door to the hallway.  Peaches scuttled across the room and swung the double doors closed, plunging the room into darkness.  Jess emptied two more rounds down the hallway, then called to me.  “Ready, Margie?”

I swallowed hard.  What was I doing here? Saving Eduardo, I told myself.  And potentially making my children motherless, I realized, thinking of Elsie and Nick.  Would I ever see them again? 

I forced down the lump that was growing in my throat.  Graciela’s children deserved both parents, too—as did the children of all the other workers.  I would just have to be careful.  Wishing for a helmet and a bulletproof vest, I said, “I guess so.”

“I’ll go first.  Stay behind me.”

I stumbled over and grabbed a handful of Jess’s soft shirt.  He smelled of tobacco and soap. 

“I’m going to stay on the right side of the hall,” he said.  As we pressed ourselves against the wall and sidled down the hallway, a gunshot cracked in front of us.  “How far?” he whispered.

“Just a few more feet, I think.”  A moment later, a doorknob rattled, another gunshot sounded, and something whizzed by my head.  It was followed by two reports I recognized as Jess’s shotgun. 

“It’s locked,” he said.

“Let me do it,” I hissed.  “There’s a deadbolt above the knob.”

I fumbled past him and snicked the deadbolt back.  Then the door swung open, releasing the fetid smell of unwashed bodies and fear, and we tumbled into the room.

The room was dark, but we were surrounded by whimpers and urgent whispers.  “What do we do now?” I asked Jess.

“Wait for them to come to us.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s only one shooter.”

“How do you know?”

“Because of how far apart the shots are.  This door locks from the outside.  If we bide our time, I’m betting our friend will try to lock us in.”

“Then what?”

“We shoot him.”

“Kill him?” The thought turned my stomach.  Hadn’t I spent the last five years telling my children that guns are bad? What was I doing here?

“You got a better idea?” Jess asked.

“Can’t we just use the stun gun?”

“Too risky.”

“Jess, I don’t want to murder someone.”

“They’ve been keeping these folks here prisoner, and God knows what they were gonna do to you.”

“We’ll know it when he goes to close the door, won’t we?”

“Yup.”

“Well, when that happens, why don’t you give it a hard kick? When he goes down, I’ll get him with the stun gun.”

“It’s too risky.”

As he spoke, a squeak came from the direction of the door. 

There was no time to think.  I tightened my grip on the stun gun and hurled myself toward the noise.  With a crack, my shoulder connected with the door.  The door swung open sharply, then stopped with a thud.  At the same moment, a gunshot sounded.  I thrust the stun gun out and down, making contact with something soft.  Then I punched the button, and something thumped to the floor.

“Shit!” It was Jess’s voice from behind me.  “Margie? Margie? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I croaked, feeling numb.  “The guy’s down.”

“He could have killed you!”

“Yes, but he didn’t.”

Jess had reached down and was helping me stagger to my feet when another gunshot rang out, and he groaned in pain.

TWENTY-SIX

 “Jess!” I yelled, fumbling for him in the darkness.  As I crawled back into the room, pulling him behind me, another shot rang out.

I fumbled with the safety on my gun.  It was bad enough having to use the thing at all, much less in a pitch-dark building with innocent lives depending on my accuracy.

I aimed at what I hoped was the hall, said a small prayer asking for forgiveness, and was about to squeeze the trigger when a volley of shots rang out from the direction of the loading dock.

I’d forgotten about Peaches.

“Hang in there, guys! I’m comin’!” she called.

The shooter returned a few rounds.  Then Peaches let off another volley of shots, and somebody cried in pain. 

“Put down the gun!” Peaches hollered. 
“Now!”

A moment later, harsh light flooded the hallway.  I flinched, then edged toward the hallway and squinted.  One man lay next to the door.  A few steps further on, another man slumped against the wall, holding his side.  Blood oozed from between his fingers. 

Peaches strode down the hall, her gun trained on the wounded man.  “Is there anyone else here?” she asked.

The man responded in Spanish.  She rattled something back to him, then turned to me.  “He says only three of them were here.  All the other guys are out looking for you.”

“Thank God you know how to use that gun.”

Peaches walked up to the bleeding man.  His gun lay beside him, and she kicked it out of reach.  “Margie, can you cover him for me? I’ll make sure Jess is okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Jess in a weak voice as I stepped forward and held my gun up with a shaking arm.  I glanced back at him.   Blood leaked from his left arm.

“You will be once we get you to a hospital,” Peaches said.  “First, though, we got to get these guys out of here.”  She motioned to the men and women huddled behind us in the dim room.

“But they’re going to need to get in touch with their relatives.  How are we going to manage that?”

A tall, thin man stepped forward into the light from the hallway.  I recognized him from the puckered skin on the side of his face: Eduardo.  For a moment, I forgot about the two thugs lying in the hallway.  “Eduardo! Thank God you’re all right! Graciela and the girls will be so happy to see you!”

“Thank you so much for coming to help us, Miss Margie.”

I surveyed the crowd behind him.  Their faces were scared and tired, but there was hope in their eyes.  I wanted to send them to their families… but how were we going to be able to prove what Bitsy was doing? 

I turned to Eduardo. “Now what do we do?” I asked.  “I don’t want to turn them over to Immigration.  They’ll just try again with another
coyote
, and who knows what will happen the next time.”

“I will take them to my house,” he said.  “I know where this building is. I recognized it when they brought us here.  It is near La Victoriana.  Graciela and I live on Eleventh Street, not far from here.  They can telephone their families from our house.”

Bitsy would likely escape prosecution if that happened, but at least these people would earn their freedom.  I didn’t like it, but didn’t see any other options.  And after all, that’s why we’d come here in the first place, rather than calling the cops an hour ago and avoiding the whole gun battle thing.  “Are you sure that’s okay?”