The Reckoning - 02 (18 page)

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Authors: D. A. Roberts

BOOK: The Reckoning - 02
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Chapter Eight
Breaking Point

 

“The man who stands at a strange threshold,
Should be cautious before he cross it,
Glance this way and that:
Who knows beforehand what foes may sit
Awaiting him in the hall?”

-
The Havamal

 

              I crept down the hallway, careful to not make a sound. I was afraid that they’d hear the light clicking of Odin’s nails on the tiles, but they were too busy talking to notice. I did my best to ignore their conversation despite how much what they were saying was pissing me off.

             
“We really shouldn’t have to waste our time guarding the door,” said Keller.

             
“No shit,” said the other. “Isn’t that what the
jail-fucks
are for?”

             
“Yeah,” agreed Keller, “but we can’t trust them. I mean, give them a gun one time and suddenly they think they’re
real
officers.”

             
“Funny how that works,” I said as I stepped out of the shadows.

             
They spun around and reached for their duty weapons. They froze when they saw the shotgun I had pointing at them. The big Keltec never waivered as I kept it trained at face level.

             
“Easy there,” said Keller. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

             
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I whispered. “I want you both to remove your equipment belts and set them on the floor.”

             
“And if we don’t?” said the other one. His name-tag read Hanniken. “You’re alone. We’ve got back-up just one yell away.”

             
“True,” I agreed. “But you’ll be dead long before they get here.”

             
I kept the shotgun aimed at his face, as he looked into my eyes. I’m not sure what he saw there, but he started removing his belt without another word. Keller followed suit and seconds later, both belts were on the ground.

             
“What now?” demanded Keller.

             
“Now, you cuff him,” I said, softly.

             
“Cuff him yourself,” he replied.

             
“Then you leave me no choice but to just kill you and be done with it,” I replied.

             
“I’ll cuff him,” said Hanniken, pleadingly. “Just don’t shoot.”

             
I nodded at Hanniken and he slowly reached for his duty belt. Removing a pair of handcuffs, he stood back up and reached for Keller.

             
“Sorry, man,” he said to Keller.

             
Keller didn’t answer him. He just glared at him, his face full of venom. Hanniken put the cuffs on Keller and cinched them down. I noticed that they weren’t very tight.

             
“Now put your hands behind your back,” I said to Hanniken.

             
He did as I instructed and I switched my grip on the shotgun to my right hand and removed a pair of cuffs from my belt with my left. I put them on Hanniken and ratcheted them down tight. Then I reached over and closed Keller’s cuffs as far as I could.

             
“Not so tight,” whined Hanniken.

             
"Don't worry," I said, condescendingly. "They're new. They'll stretch."

             
"Can you at least loosen them a bit?" whined Keller.

             
“Why?” I asked. “So you guys can slip out of them and get loose? No thanks.”

             
I motioned for them to move off towards the Booking Counter. They complied, but walked with little enthusiasm.

             
“Where are you taking us?” asked Keller.

             
“Well, if you cooperate,” I said, “you’ll sit this out in a Holding Cell. Cause me any trouble and I’ll shoot you both.”

             
I nudged them both into Holding Cell Number Five. Before I shut the door, I reached in and yanked the badges off of their shirts.

             
“You two don’t deserve to wear these,” I said.

             
“That’s fine,” answered Keller. “We’ll get them back as soon as Wright kills you. And she
will
kill you when she finds out what you’ve done.”

             
“Oh, really?” I said, grinning. “We’ll just see about that. I figured it would be Wright that would seize control.”

             
“What’s to stop us from banging on the door and yelling as soon as you leave?” asked Hanniken.

             
“Good point,” I replied, and drove the butt of the shotgun into Keller’s face.

             
He fell to the floor, out cold with blood seeping from his broken nose.

             
“I think that should do it,” I said.

             
Before Hanniken could say a word, I drove the butt of the shotgun into his mouth. The force of the blow drove him backwards and his head bounced off the concrete wall behind him. He fell on top of Keller, unconscious. I briefly worried that I might have given them both a concussion, but dismissed the thought. I really didn’t care, at this point. Then I shut the door and walked back towards the Main Sliders. Odin followed behind me, his nails clicking softly.

             
I picked up their equipment belts and sat them on the desk in the Release area. Then I continued on towards the sliders. I glanced around the staging area where we’d put all the guns when we came back from the run to the National Guard Armory, but they were all gone. When we reached the stairs to the second floor, I cautiously started up. I was careful to move slowly and deliberately, to minimize the noise. Odin walked beside me and kept in a crouch.

             
I figured that there would be someone inside Master Control. Even with the power out, it was defensible and afforded a view of every possible entrance to the second floor. As I crept slowly up the stairs, I kept a close eye on the windows of Master Control. Step by pain-staking step, I climbed. I didn’t see anyone inside Master Control. No lights, no movement, nothing.

             
I reached the top of the stairs without seeing anyone, at all. Odin sniffed around and didn’t seem agitated. I leaned around the corner and glanced down the hallway that led to the Lieutenant’s Office. There was nothing there, either. Looking both ways, I only saw what must be daylight filtering out of the pods.

             
Without any better choices, I headed down the hallway towards the LT’s office. It would take me past Bravo Pod and down to Alpha. If I didn’t see anyone inside, I’d go the other way and check Charlie and Delta. After that, I’d check the towers. Eventually, I’d find someone or something.

             
As I approached the door to Bravo, I had a quick flash of memory. I remembered seeing it full of zombies and the mutilated face of Officer Mike Boyett. I hoped I wouldn’t see more faces I knew pressed against that glass. Thankfully, the window into Bravo was empty. I paused long enough to peer into the dayroom. I saw open cells and empty chairs, but no people or movement.

             
Moving on to Alpha, I slowed down and peeked around the corner into the pod. I saw people up on the second floor in the Protective Custody, or PC, unit. I stayed low and in the darkness, so they couldn’t see me. I didn’t want to alert anyone that I was there until I was ready to.

             
Then I caught a glimpse of movement inside the Alpha Pod control room. There were two gray-shirts inside. I had to get through two doors without alerting them, if I was going to pull this off. I had to put the shotgun down in order to use both hands to open the door. Gently, I slid the key into the lock and began to turn it. I held my breath, hoping that it wouldn’t make too much noise.

             
The door clicked open with almost no sound and I cautiously opened the door. Removing the key, I held it in my left hand and recovered the shotgun. Then I crouched low and crept into the Alpha Pod vestibule. I paused at the door to the control room and knelt beneath the window and waited. I listened to the two officers inside as they chatted about what they’d like to do with two of the female civilians. When I was sure that their attention was not on me, I slid the key into the lock. I turned it and shoved the door open. Then I stepped inside and leveled the shotgun at them.

             
“Turn around,” I said, matter-of-factly.

             
They spun around and froze with their hands on their pistols, their eyes wide in surprise.

             
“You might want to slowly move your hands away from those pistols before I punch a fist sized hole in your face,” I said, softly.

             
“I know you,” said the one on the left.

             
I recognized him, instantly. His name was Todd Patterson and he was definitely one of Wright’s people.

             
“I…uh…I thought you were supposed to be dead,” he stammered.

             
“I got better,” I said, borrowing a line from Monty Python.

             
I refrained from doing it in a British accent, but only just.

             
“Wylie
Fucking
Grant,” he hissed. “I should have known you weren’t finished being a pain in our asses.”

             
“So glad I could be of service,” I replied. “Now, drop those equipment belts or I might forget we both wear the same patch on our shoulder.”

             
The other one dropped his belt without hesitation and put his hands in the air. Patterson just glared at me.

             
“You won’t shoot me,” he said, with snide confidence.

             
“You locked my wife and kids in a fucking cell,” I said, hatred in my voice. “Right now, I’m doing my best to
NOT
kill you.”

             
He stared at me for a long moment before slowly unbuckling his belt and sliding it to the floor.

             
“What now?” Patterson asked. “There’s still eight of us, and only one of you.”
              “You might want to check your math,” I replied, coolly. “After neutralizing you two, that makes four I’ve put down.”

             
“Still,” he said, smiling. “Four to one isn’t good odds.”

             
“True,” I replied, “but I plan on changing those odds as soon as I arm the officers you have locked in those cells behind you.”

             
The look on his face said I’d struck a nerve. He tensed up and seemed to be considering making a move towards me.

             
“Try anything Patterson, and I’ll kill you where you stand.”

             
That had the desired effect, and he relaxed his stance.

             
“Now, both of you turn around and put your hands on the control board,” I said.

             
When they were both facing away from me, I stepped forward and drove the butt of the shotgun into the back of Patterson’s head. He dropped like a stone. The other one started to lunge towards me, but stopped short when Odin growled and stepped up behind him. By the look in his eyes, I could see he was more afraid of Odin than he was of me. Before he could decide what to do, I gave him a butt-stroke to the side of the head and dropped him.

             
“Good boy,” I muttered, patting Odin on the head.

             
I reached down and scooped up the duty belts from the two fallen officers. Closing the clasps, I slipped them over my shoulder. Then I stripped them of their badges and added them to my collection. Opening the drawer beside the darkened computer, I retrieved four pair of the zip-tie riot-cuffs and trussed up the two unconscious deputies, binding both wrists and ankles.

             
“No sense risking them wandering around if they wake up,” I muttered to Odin.

             
He just looked at me and cocked his head to the side, silently agreeing with me.

             
Returning to the vestibule, I opened the inner door to the pod floor and stepped inside. It was fairly well lit where I was standing because of the skylight in the rec yard. The civilians up-stairs must have thought I was just another uniform and ignored me. I headed into the Segregation section and looked into the first cell. It was dark, but I could see two officers inside. I recognized them both. One was Roger Matthews and the other was Johnny Bowman, from my shift.

             
Keying open the door, I heard big Johnny Bowman’s voice rumble from the darkness, “What the fuck do you want now?”

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