The Midnight Stand (The Elysia Saga Book 1) (11 page)

The car was coming from the same direction that
Harley drove to take Sara and Jasper to her sister’s, but that was surely a
coincidence and a long one at that. Sara didn’t even have a car with her to
drive.

She could have taken Dana’s car
. Would
she do something like that? Harley was pretty sure she wouldn’t, not with
Jasper with her. She wouldn’t leave him alone. But Harley also knew his wife
was a worrier and an over-reactor. What if their conversation tipped her off to
something after all? He thought he had diffused the situation, but maybe he
wasn’t as convincing as he thought.

The argument stopped as both Maxon and Bruce noticed
the car approaching. They all turned to watch as the car made a beeline for the
house. It came to a stop in front of them. The intensity of the car headlights
made it nearly impossible to see who was inside.  

The bottom fell out from under Harley when he
saw his wife get out of the car, a look of incomprehensible fear on her face.
When she saw Harley standing with the shotgun and detonator strapped to his
chest she put her hands up to her mouth in a gesture of shock. Then she started
moving towards the house.

Ancil tried to shake the ringing out of his
ears. He was on the floor and his vision had started to clear. For a brief
second he didn’t remember where he was, then he heard the commotion from just
outside where his front door used to be and everything came back to him in an
instant.

He scrambled to his feet and looked for his
shotgun. It slid somewhere across the floor in the blast and now he dreaded
that his only weapon was out of his reach. Harley was still back there. He had
to get him out of the house and to Lee and Ruth’s somehow.

Sheriff Bailey and his men worked to knock in
the remaining portion of door. The blast damaged the door but didn’t bust it in
completely and that helped to buy Ancil a little more time. He looked around
the living room for the shotgun and saw the barrel of it peeking out from under
the couch. He scooped it up and scrambled to his feet.

“Grandpa!” Ancil turned to see Harley standing
by the bedroom door.

Ancil waved his arm at him. “Get outta here,
Harley. Go out the back.” Another loud bang and the front door gave way for the
Sheriff and his crew. Ancil raised the shotgun and pointed at them. “Stop right
there. Don’t come any closer.”

Sheriff Bailey and Officer Anderson had their
guns aimed straight at Ancil. Daniel was behind them followed by one of the men
in white, the one named Conway.

“There’s my boy.” Daniel said to Conway. “Go get
him. Knock the old man down if you have to.”

“Don’t make me do this, Daniel,” Ancil said. “I
was clear. The boy goes nowhere with you.”

Daniel looked past Ancil to Harley who was
cowered at the back of the hall. His expression changed from anger to sympathy.
“Harley, listen to me. Whatever your grandfather told you isn’t true. This is
not a bad place, in fact it’s a wonderful place where you can be free to do
whatever you like and experience new and exciting things. It won’t be like
here. Everyone will have the same desire for mutual cooperation. There’ll be no
need for jealousy about not getting something your friend has. If you want
something, you can have it. Now, doesn’t that sound nice?”

Harley stayed silent as he gave a slight shrug
of his shoulders.

“Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” Daniel pressed.

“Leave him alone,” Ancil said. “You can’t sell
him on anything; he’s already made up his mind.”

“He’s nine, he has no mind to make up. He’s only
influenced by those around him and you poisoned him against me. You did it from
the day he was born.”

“I was there for him more than you ever were.”

Daniel’s pupils narrowed and his face turned a
shade of red and purple. He looked like one of those drawings of a person who
is about to explode. The only thing he needed was the steam to come out of his
ears. “I was out every day providing for my family, making sure they wanted for
nothing.”

“You only provided for your own self-interests,
Daniel,” Ancil said. “You think being a part of all this will help you, that
you’ll be rewarded somehow. You’re no more important to them than me. You’re
running a fool’s errand for these people and you don’t even know it.”

“Harley,” Daniel called out, “you’re coming with
me right now. I’m through playing games.”

“No,” he said. He was on the verge of tears
again. 

“You have until three, then I’m coming back
there and dragging you out of here. If that happens I can’t be responsible for
what these men do.”

“Harley, run now. Get out of here,” Ancil said
as he readied himself against anyone who tried to get past him.

“Don’t go anywhere, Harley,” Daniel ordered.

“Run, I said!”

Daniel turned to Conway. “What are you waiting
for, grab him now.”

Ancil should have noticed it sooner. If he had,
things may have gone differently, but everything moved too quickly after that
to think clearly. Once he saw that one of the men in white was missing, it was
too late.

Conway pulled out his own weapon and brought it
up. Ancil got off a shot before Conway could get one off himself. The sound was
deafening in the small living room, like a bomb going off. The shot hit on the
side of Conway into the wall, completely shredding it. Conway dropped for cover
on the floor.

Daniel attempted to rush past Ancil, but was met
with a hit to the gut from the butt end of the shotgun. He fell in a heap,
gasping for air.

Another shot rang out and this time Ancil felt
himself being thrown back from an incredible force. He hit the wall. His right shoulder
burned with hot pain as blood ran down his arm.

“Don’t make me put another one in ya,” Sheriff
Bailey said. Smoke drifted up from the barrel of his gun. “Now drop it and get
on the floor with your hands behind your head. Do it slowly.” Ancil didn’t move
right away. “Put it down now!” Ancil complied with the order and dropped the
shotgun.

Daniel was still on the floor, clutching his
stomach. “Just shoot him,” he gasped.

“Shut up,” Sheriff Bailey shot at Daniel. Still
with his gun focused on Ancil he said, “Now get down on your stomach.”

Ancil was down on one knee, with his right leg
out in front of him, the leg with the bowie knife hidden in his boot. He
quickly glanced up and saw Officer Anderson standing less than two feet away. A
ceramic vase was standing on a side table to his left. If he was to get out of
this he had to act fast and he had to act now. He braced himself for action and
counted to three in his head.

One.

Two.

Three.

Ancil grabbed the vase and threw it at Sheriff
Bailey. It hit him square in the face, breaking his nose. Then, with a speed
that even he didn’t think he had, he sprang up, took the knife from his boot
and grabbed Anderson by the wrist, twisting his arm around his back and causing
the gun to drop from it.

Anderson cried out in pain as Ancil wrenched his
arm up, threatening to break it. He dug the knife into Anderson’s neck, drawing
blood.

Ancil’s shoulder throbbed with each movement he
made, but he fought through the pain. He learned to fight through pain and
block it out of his mind during his tours in the Mid-East. There was no time to
think about the pain over there. You either kept moving or you died.

“You sonafobitch!” Sheriff Bailey screamed through
his blood covered hands. His voice was muffled. He sounded like he had the
world’s worst cold. “I’m haffing yer ash fo thish.” 

“Nobody gets any closer or I open his neck.”
Ancil stood with Anderson in front of him, blocking the path to the hallway. The
man in white, Conway, was on one knee with his weapon aimed at Ancil, “Put it
down,” he directed towards Conway. He looked at Sheriff Bailey, whose nose
looked like it had been put through a meat grinder. “Yours too.” Neither man
put their guns down. “Unless you want me to spill him all over this floor, put
your guns down now.”

Sheriff Bailey scowled and placed his gun on the
floor. Conway did the same. The Sheriff pointed at Ancil. “You’re in for it
now. You think you can get out of this? There’s only one way out for you now.”

“I know I’m not getting out of this and I’ve
resigned myself to it, but my grandson will if I have anything to do with it.”

A voice came from behind him, “Unfortunately,
you have very little to do with it.”

Ancil turned and saw Balor, the second man in
white, standing in the hallway. The big man held Harley trapped with one arm. His
large hand covered Harley’s mouth closed. In his other hand was a pistol,
pointed at Harley’s head.

Maxon’s job already went from bad to worse. He
had to diffuse a potentially violent situation while at the same time collide
with Bruce, who was ready to turn the whole thing into a powder keg if he
could. Now with the addition of the man’s wife, things were only going to get
catastrophic.

He knew it was Harley Jacob’s wife, Sara, from
the report that he studied. The report had a picture and brief summary of each
member of the household. The first thing he noticed about Sara was her striking
green eyes and even from where he stood they made an impact on him. She was
only about twenty feet away when she got out of the car. Too close for his
liking because he suspected she knew nothing about her husband’s intentions and
the trip wire running around the house.

“Don’t come any closer,” Harley screamed at her.
His eyes were wide and wild, like an animal that has been caught in a trap.

“Harley, what are you doing?” she cried. “Why
are these people here?”

She doesn’t have any idea
, Maxon
thought. He kept it all secret from her. He marveled at the ability of a man to
keep such a huge matter from his wife for so long and was even a little envious
of it. He couldn’t keep a cold from his wife let alone something this big.

Harley said, “I told you to stay at your sister’s.
Why are you here?”

“I thought something was wrong. It felt like
there was when we spoke.”

“Go back to your sister’s, now. You’re not
supposed to be here.”

“I want to know what’s happening.” She turned to
Maxon. “Who are you?”

“Ma’am, we’re here on orders to upgrade this
residence,” he said. “Your husband had been notified for several weeks about
the upgrade. The deadline is tonight.”

Sara turned back to Harley. Her mouth was open,
but she was at a loss for words. She could only look at him with shocked
incomprehension. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t your concern,” Harley said,
defiant. “This is my fight. I didn’t want to involve you or Jasper.”

“But we are involved. This is our home. You knew
about this and you don’t tell me? We could have been in a new house by now.”

“This is bigger than you can understand, Sara.”

“Well, explain it to me then. What are you
trying to accomplish by doing this?”

“I can’t explain it to you. This is just the way
this has to go.”

“It’s the way you want it to go. Why? So you can
be some martyr for a cause you only care about? All I see is a stubborn selfish
man who would put his own life and his family’s lives in jeopardy for his ego.
No one will remember you for this, no one. You won’t go in any history books or
be celebrated. You’d just be leaving behind a son who needs his father”

Harley was on the verge of tears. His lips
trembled and his face grew red. “You think I’m doing this for me? This
is
for my son, it’s for his legacy.”

“How?” Sara cried. “How does this help Jasper? What
can he get out of this?”

“A future that he can make his own and not one
that they will dictate for him.”

Bruce sniggered at this. “You think you have the
power to change what’s happening here? It’s people like you who continue to be
a nuisance for all of us. You hang on like spiders in a web, refusing to let go
of your dead world. Well, it’s time to wake up and enter reality or step aside
and allow it to roll over you because I think you’re better off dead than
taking up space in my city.”

His city
? Maxon heard the words leave
Bruce’s mouth but didn’t comprehend the full meaning of it at the time. He saw
that Bruce was steadily taking over the situation and that the crew was
beginning to respond to him. A few nodded their heads in agreement to what he
was saying, despite how vitriolic it was. Maxon was in very real danger of
losing them and the worst thing a Lead can do is lose the confidence of his
crew. They already witnessed Bruce undermining him several times and he had
just let it happen. Now Bruce was taking control of his wreck.

“Harley, please listen to me,” Sara begged. “You
don’t need to do this. You have nothing to prove. Do you think this changes who
you are? It’s just a house. It’s not your life.”

“The only thing I have left of my life is this
house and I’ll go down with it if I have to.” He grabbed the detonator attached
to his chest. The entire crew pulled out their weapons and fixed them on him as
he did.

Maxon tried to regain order. “Hold your ground.
No one fires.”

“What are you doing?” Sara cried.

“I have no choice. They brought me to this. They’re
the reason this has to happen. They’ll be the ones with blood on their hands.
You’ll have ten seconds to put down your weapons and get your men out of here,”
he directed towards them. “Otherwise this whole block will light up.”

He fixed Maxon with a steely look and began the
countdown.

“Ten, nine…”

Maxon’s heart began to beat double time.
There’s
no way he goes through with it. His wife is standing right here. It has to be a
bluff,
he told himself.

He’d also be leaving behind a son and Maxon knew
for a fact that they were only able to conceive the child in the last year of
their reproductive window, before the age limit kicked in. The child was born
by a stroke of luck and this man was going to throw all that away for an
outdated house. This was all an act in hopes that we’d leave. When he counts
down to one, nothing will happen and we’ll just move in and continue as normal.
This is all an elaborate ruse.  

But these thoughts did little to calm his
nerves. There was something in the look in Harley’s eyes that didn’t make Maxon
believe that he was bluffing. There was only intense certainty in those eyes. Eyes
that said they intended to do everything he threatened.

“Eight, seven…”

Maxon’s hands were shaking as he held his
weapon. He had never been in this situation before, one in which he had to make
a decision that could cost lives in his crew. He began to feel in over his
head. This wasn’t supposed to happen. These wrecks are supposed to be routine
by this point.

“Six, five…”

Four numbers left. Four numbers until his fate
was decided. The world around Maxon started to fade out. Sounds were muffled
and things started to get hazy. He thought he heard the woman scream something
to Harley about their son, but she sounded like she was underwater.

Sweat poured into his eyes but he didn’t make a
move to wipe them. He didn’t dare make any move for fear it might set Harley
off. His muscles tensed as he clenched his gun. The entire crew stood
completely still with their weapons out. No one moved a muscle, neither did
Bruce, who looked as scared as the rest of them. When death is potentially
looking you in the eye, bravado is cast aside as the useless interloper it is.

“Four, three…”

Maxon thought it ironic that the fate of his
life now came down to the speed in which this man called out the last two
numbers. He could say them slow, drawing out the tension like a television play
would do. Or he could call them out fast, catching them off guard and jumping
the attack.

In those two long seconds many thoughts went
through Maxon’s head. He thought of his wife, who he’d never see again, his
son, who he’d never play with again, and the job that he’d never go to again.
He didn’t realize earlier how much his job defined him until he was about to
die doing it. He would always be remembered as Maxon Wheeler, Lead Wreck for
the Office of Standard Living, ten year veteran. He would become an entry in a
computer file stored in a database that stored hundreds of thousands of other
entries and he would forever be catalogued as the Lead who got his crew and two
civilians killed one hot night in November.

“Two, one.”

Maxon acted out of instinct. He did the first
thing that his body told him to do. He saw, or he thought he saw, Harley make a
move with the hand he had on the detonator. The gun he was holding went off and
Harley twirled around, falling to the ground. The shotgun spilled out of
Harley’s hand and for a brief moment Maxon thought that Harley was going to
land on the detonator, setting off the explosion that would be the end of them
all. That would truly be an ironic way to go. To be a punch line in the
ultimate cosmic joke.

Harley fell on his back instead, his hands
clutched his stomach. Blood gushed through them in such quantity that it looked
like he wore crimson gloves. He face was twisted in agony.

The sound of the shot still rang out in the
night, echoing across the air. It took Maxon a moment to regain a sense of
awareness and realize what he just did. He shot a man. Something he never did
before. He never even pulled a gun out on another human being until that night
and now a man was writhing on the ground because of him. There would be
inquiries and a board review of it, but no one could fault him for it. He was
protecting his crew and the operation and he also gave him every chance to
stand down. Protocol had been followed.

He didn’t have time to contemplate the possible
consequences of his action because the man’s wife started to scream and make a
move for her husband. Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion and,
for an instant, Maxon was transported back to that night ten years ago in the
old widows home. Every image stood out like a frame in a film roll that was slowing
down in a projector until it was too late to stop what was going to happen.

He saw Sara run across the lawn to her prone
husband, straight towards the trip wire that she was unaware of. He yelled out
to her to stop and tried to grab her, but Bruce already had his weapon fixed on
her and that was when hell finally broke loose.