Jakarta Pandemic, The (54 page)

Read Jakarta Pandemic, The Online

Authors: Steven Konkoly

He wondered if Charlie had a shot, but doubted it. He was pretty sure the man’s position was still obscured from Charlie by the Hayes’ blue colonial, plus Charlie had never called to warn him, which led Alex to believe that Charlie never saw him cross the gap in the first place. Still, he envisioned Daryll’s head exploding from a high-caliber hollow-point bullet.

He nodded at the man and moved his hand around the front of his jacket, making it clear to the man that this was not the chosen time or place for a shootout.

I have a better idea for you.

The man turned his head, walking hurriedly in the direction of the Murrays’.

Alex turned and started running through the snow with Max, who sprinted ahead of him in delight, oblivious to the human drama playing out around him. He kept checking behind him as Max strained at the end of the leash. Alex had a lot of distance to cover, and he was worried that one of the Mansons might try to snipe him with one of their hunting rifles. As he passed the Coopers’ house, he thought about the bag of dog food.

Sorry, my friend. I’ll get that for you later.

He faintly heard Kate’s voice on the radio as he lumbered through the snow and reached into his pocket and removed the walkie.

“Kate? Hey, I can’t talk. I ran into one of them…I need to keep moving,” he huffed into the radio.

“What? Who did you run into? The Hayes? Honey, what’s wrong?” she asked frantically.

“No, not the Hayes. They’re dead. I ran into one of the Mansons stealing wood. Hon, I can’t talk and run here. I don’t want them to take a shot at me. Open the back door,” he yelled.

“Okay…okay, I’m headed down now. Where are you?”

“Just past the Coopers’. Gotta go!”

He stuffed the walkie in his jacket pocket and pulled his pistol out of the back of his pants, then tucked it into the other jacket pocket, making sure the velcro caught on the pocket.

Don’t want to lose this.

He continuously glanced over his shoulder, staying close to the houses, sprinting through the snow when he reached a gap between homes. He was physically wiped out when he reached his own back garage door. He stopped a few feet from the door and knelt, laboring to breathe and feeling slightly nauseous from the combination of sustained exertion and adrenaline. Max moved in and started licking his face. Alex pushed him away and continued to take deep breaths. The door opened, and Kate appeared, still dressed in her pink flannel pajamas. Max immediately ran over to Kate, who bent down to hug him. Alex looked up at her.

“Good thing I didn’t need a rescue,” he said.

She looked down at her outfit. “What? I was on lookout duty.”

“Yeah, you missed one. He was carrying a stack of wood back to their little headquarters at the Murrays’,” he said, still panting.

“Why didn’t you shoot him?” she asked seriously.

“Why didn’t I shoot him? Trust me, I thought about it, but he was too far away and had a shotgun. I did the math, pistol against shotgun. No, thanks. I have a plan to get them all at once,” he said and stood up.

He walked into the garage and kissed Kate. She opened the door to the mudroom to let Max in, and Alex could hear Max’s claws repeatedly scrape the mudroom tile as he tried to build up momentum for a run through the house. Alex locked the door behind him and engaged the deadbolt.

Neither of them had a deadbolt. I wonder if it would have made a difference?

They both stepped into the mudroom, which felt like the Caribbean compared to the air outside.

“I’m sorry I missed that guy…I went to get more coffee. Really, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. Charlie missed him, too. I’m just a little disturbed that he got by both of you in broad daylight,” he reassured, stroking her hair.

“What happened over there?” she asked softly, searching his eyes.

Alex avoided her glance. “You really don’t want to know.”

“The kids?” she asked, embracing him.

Alex stayed silent.

“It’s all right, honey. I love you so much,” she whispered in his ear.

“I know. I love you more,” he replied and held the embrace a few more seconds before freeing himself.

“We should definitely call the police,” Kate said.

“What’s the point? This’ll all be over long before the police show up. They’ll move against us pretty quickly. Probably tonight. I’m gonna use that to our advantage and spring a little trap.” He walked toward the kitchen, leaving puddles of melted snow on the tile floor.

“We’re getting slammed by another Nor’easter tonight. This might have to wait.”

“These guys aren’t going to wait. They’ve killed two nights in a row…that we know of. I have no doubt they’ll be paying us a visit tonight. Storm or no storm, we have to be ready for them,” he said, as he opened the basement door.

“What’s your plan?”

“First, I’m going to talk to Charlie and see if he’s willing to help me take them down. I don’t imagine that will be much of a problem, since he wanted to storm their house last night.” He dropped his head in thought and continued, thinking out loud. “I figure they’ll leave the Murrays’ after dark and make their way behind the houses to get here. I’m going to hit them along the way. Catch them in a crossfire; catch them by surprise. The storm’s timing couldn’t be better actually. They’ll never expect it,” he said and took a few steps into the basement.

“You sound like you’re enjoying this again,” Kate said.

Alex leaned his head back into the kitchen to face Kate. “After what I just saw…you’re probably right to some degree. I’d enjoy it even more if I could kill them up close. Slowly.” He vanished into the basement.

 

 

Chapter Forty-One

 

 

 

Friday, December 13, 2013

 

Alex kissed Kate and held her tightly. They were standing several feet inside the darkened garage clutching each other, neither one ready to let go. A frigid wind blew through the back door of the garage, bathing them in arctic air and dusting them with fresh snowflakes. Kate shivered, and Alex broke the embrace, still holding her hand.

“I’ll be fine. Cold, but I’ll be fine. You can talk to me all night,” he said, staring into her teary blue eyes.

“I still don’t understand why you can’t take care of this from the house,” she said, squeezing his hand harder.

“They’ll be expecting some form of resistance at the house. We need to catch them off guard and put an end to this on our terms, not theirs. I don’t want them anywhere near our house. Who knows what kind of firepower they have? Don’t worry, once it starts, it’ll be over quickly. Just keep the kids in Ryan’s room tonight. That’ll put the most house between you and whatever happens out there…”

“I’ll be sitting in a chair, keeping watch on that house. If I see anything, I’ll buzz you on the walkie.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to see anything, but that’s fine. Just make sure you don’t have any lights on behind you, and when I tell you to get into Ryan’s room, you have to promise me you’ll do it. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she said.

I don’t believe her for a minute.

“No matter what you hear outside, stay with the kids, and keep the Sig Sauer with you at all times. Remember, there’s no safety on that gun. You just pull the trigger and boom. Remind the kids of that again, especially Ryan. All right, it’s getting darker, and I want to be in position when the light is gone,” he said, kissing her one more time. “I love you.”

“I love you more. Be careful. Those people are…” she trailed off, letting go of his hand.

“I know, and pretty soon, they’ll be gone. I love you. Keep in touch, but remember, Charlie has one of the spares, so no juicy stuff. Once we start shooting, stay off unless there’s an emergency at the house. Charlie and I will need to talk. See you in a few hours.” He stepped through the open back doorway into the backyard.

He closed the door and watched Kate through the window panes, heard the lock click and waved goodbye to her. He glanced up at the dingy, shapeless low ceiling of ashen gray clouds before starting to walk. As he trudged forward, he looked over his shoulder to the west and couldn’t determine the sun’s azimuth or location on the horizon. The cloud cover was impenetrable.

He figured that he had about ten to fifteen minutes of dusk left before the darkness began to envelop the neighborhood. In less than an hour, the block would be pitch black, and he guessed that the Mansons would make their move soon after that. At least he hoped they would; he wasn’t sure how long he could last out in the snowstorm.

He pushed forward in the snow, following the same path he’d traveled during his outbound morning trek. His footprints were still visible in the snow near the back of his property where the yard sunk into a shallow drainage area that ran along the entire property line and connected all of the yards on his side with a water retention area beyond the McCarthys’ backyard. He planned to use it to ensure that he arrived at his preselected position undetected.

He jumped into the ditch and walked through the shallow gulley. The snow was slightly deeper here, and he slogged forward, watching the corner of his house. A few more steps and he would briefly enter line of sight with the Murrays’ house. After the morning’s encounter, he figured that the Mansons might be keeping watch on his house. He lowered his silhouette and nudged forward until he was clear of the gap.

He continued on, alert, but more interested in getting to his position than remaining stealthy. Charlie had been watching the Murrays’ house for the past hour, looking for any signs of activity. If the Mansons were to leave the house from the front, he’d definitely see them, but Alex doubted they’d use any of the front doors, sure they’d sneak out the back like before, and Charlie would hopefully see them move between the houses. Charlie was perched at the window closest to the Murrays’, watching with binoculars and an 8X wide angle night vision spotting scope. His other night vision device, a 10X scope, was attached to a hunting rifle; the same rifle Charlie planned to use tonight.

Alex’s AR-15 assault rifle was slung across his back. He had attached an Aimpoint scope to the rifle early in the afternoon while preparing the equipment needed for their night ambush. The scope provided an illuminated red dot for quickly engaging targets. He’d used a similar system in Iraq. His civilian version did not provide night vision capability, so he wouldn’t be looking at a convenient green image like Charlie. He’d have to first pick out targets with his hand-held night vision scope, and then somehow find them with the Aimpoint scope. Not optimal, but he’d done this under worse conditions. Despite the profound darkness, he figured that the Mansons should provide adequate silhouettes for a conventional rifle scope. Besides, the plan called for Charlie to do most of the accurate shooting.

He worked his way across the Thompsons’ backyard. Their house looked empty, but he knew it was occupied. A few days before, he’d seen James Thompson wander across the backyard and head into the woods carrying a shovel. Alex had concluded that he was looking for a burial site in the woods behind their property. James had returned several minutes later, too quickly to have made any serious progress digging. At this point in December, Alex didn’t think it was feasible to dig a proper grave without heavy equipment.

He paused and searched the woods to his right. The conservation woodland located at the eastern corner of the neighborhood contained a path that connected with Hewitt Park and hundreds of additional acres of protected forest and trails. He saw Jim’s lone footsteps in the snow, approaching a trailhead that disappeared into a tangle of mature evergreens, oaks and birch. He turned back to the path he was following, suddenly buffeted by a strong gust of wind, and noticed an increase in the snowstorm’s intensity.

This is going to be a long night.

Aside from a small area of exposed skin below his ski goggles and above his mouth, Alex didn’t feel the effects of the bitter northerly wind. He wore two layers of full-length thermal underwear, covered by two pairs of expensive snowboarding pants, two layers of thick wool socks, a wool turtleneck sweater, and his favorite blue weatherproof winter jacket.

He’d ditched his combat boots for the best pair of storm boots sold by L.L. Bean, and his hands were covered by wool inserts and the warmest waterproof gloves he had ever owned. His head was covered by the jacket’s oversized hood, under which his head was sheathed in a black balaclava under a standard black wool watch cap. Standing in the garage earlier, he’d felt his core temperature rising rapidly and couldn’t wait to get out into the cold.

Even now, his ensemble felt like overkill for the conditions, but he knew that as the sun set and the storm picked up, conditions outside would deteriorate rapidly. Lying prone in a static position would only make matters worse. The wind and cold, he knew, had a way of penetrating even the best materials when you are motionless.

He continued across the Thompsons’ yard, paying the same caution when crossing between the Thompsons’ and Carters’ property. Peeking above the top of the ditch, he saw that the Murrays’ house was completely obscured by the Thorntons’. He kept moving, and as he crossed the Carters’ property, he heard his walkie-talkie crackle to life, the voice muffled in his front jacket pocket. He stopped, and his heart raced as he fumbled to open the pocket zipper. He found the slit, pulled the walkie out of the pocket, and pushed the talk button.

“This is Alex, say again, over.”

“It’s just me, Kate. I can’t see you anymore. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” her voice crackled over the speaker.

Are you kidding me?

“I’m fine. I’m almost past the Carters’. Let me get in position, and we can chat a little. All right?”

“Okay. How is it out there?” she persisted.

“Miserable. I’ll probably end up pouring the hot tea over my head in a few minutes. Could you stoke up the wood-burning stove really good? I’m going to be frozen when this is over. Talk to you later, out.”

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