The Battle: Alone: Book 4 (25 page)

     He continued.

     “Garcia, go upstairs and get some rest. After you get a few hours of sleep, come down and relieve me. Davis will be sleeping by then.”

     He turned to Sarah.

     “Get the rest of the children fed, then send them all to the basement. For the next few days, everyone is restricted to the basement unless they’re pulling their insurance policy shift or doing chores.”

     Sarah didn’t argue. The basement was probably the safest place for her loved ones to be under the circumstances.

     “Yes, sir. Anything else?”

     “Yes. After you get everyone fed and in the basement, come upstairs and see me. You can do the dishes and clean the kitchen after we’re done.”

     Something about the way he said, “after we’re done” troubled Sarah. She got the impression he wanted more than just his usual fix of crystal meth. Was this the morning he was finally going to quit pretending he was a nice guy who was just misunderstood?

     Was this the morning he was finally going to get around to raping her?

Chapter 45

      Lindsey was the first one down the basement steps, followed closely by Jessika and Karen’s boys.

      Lindsey almost fainted when she saw Dave, crossbow at the ready, standing in the middle of the basement, a finger to his lips to warn her not to scream or shout.

     She ran across the room to him, sobbing almost uncontrollably.

     Jessika almost screamed to see a strange man who seemingly appeared from nowhere as if by magic. But when she saw Lindsey run into his waiting arms she was glad she didn’t. She knew instinctively that this was Dave. This was the hero who Sarah and Lindsey had maintained for so very long was coming to rescue them.

     Jessika saw the second electrical panel, swung open on its hinges, and walked over to peer inside it. She marveled at the open tunnel before her, and instinctively wanted to run through it to freedom.

     But she knew that Karen was still being held at gunpoint. And Swain’s standing orders had always been that if anyone tried to escape the compound, the insurance policy would be immediately shot.

     Karen and Tommy had been her neighbors and friends. They had generously invited Jessika and her husband Darrell to stay with them when the lights went out and the world went to hell. Her husband was dead now, shot by Swain along with the other men. But she still owed Karen and Tommy her life. And she wouldn’t… couldn’t repay Karen by being the one who got her killed. So she resisted the urge to run.

     Instead, she waited patiently for Lindsey to finish sobbing so she could introduce Jessika to her father.

     In hushed tones they briefed Dave on the situation. Who was where and what each of them was doing.

     Dave vaguely remembered the layout of the house from his visit there three years before, but had Lindsey sketch out the floorplan for him just to be sure.

     Then he sent Jessika to the top of the stairs, to call out for Davis.

     “Excuse me, Mr. Davis?”

     Davis, exhausted and a little bit testy, called out from the den.

     “Yes? What do you want?”

     “We’re out of bottled water down here. There’s nothing for us to drink. Can I run to the kitchen and get a few bottles?”

     “Make it snappy, and then get your ass back down there.”

     “Yes, sir.”

     Jessika went to the kitchen, where Sarah was finishing up with the dishes and getting ready to go up to Swain’s room.

     Sarah knew instantly from the look on Jessika’s face that things had changed dramatically.

     Jessika hugged her friend and whispered in her ear.

     “Dave is in the basement. He says to drag your feet. Don’t go upstairs. He’ll be up to free Karen in a few minutes.”

     Sarah held her for a few moments, quietly sobbing. Then she pushed herself away and nodded her head vigorously. She understood.

     “Hey, bring me a bottle.”

     It was Davis, calling again from the den.

     Jessika dutifully gathered several bottles of water from the refrigerator and went through the den on her way back to the basement. She handed Davis one of the bottles, knowing full well he’d never have a chance to finish it.

     Once back down the basement steps, Jessika briefed Dave.

     “Okay, Garcia is in his room and the door is closed. Davis is sitting on the recliner, and he’s got his rifle laying across his lap. His handgun is still in its holster. The recliner is facing away from the kitchen, so if you go to the right at the top of the basement stairs, you can enter the kitchen and get a good view of the back of his head.”

     Dave took off his shoes. He crept up the steps in his stocking feet and made his way to the kitchen.

     Sarah watched him approach, her hand firmly over her mouth. She didn’t trust herself not to call out in glee.

     Dave winked at her as he stole past her.

    When Dave picked out the points for his crossbow bolts three years before, he thought out his decision carefully. He decided on broadheads with razor-sharp three bladed points. They flew true and sliced through bone with ease. Even thick bone, like skull. And they did damage that was irreparable. The wounds they inflicted were gruesome, sure. But they were seldom survivable. And that, to Dave, was the real point.

     From his vantage point in the kitchen doorway, he could make out the top of Davis’ head above the back of the recliner where he was sitting.

     Davis was trying his best to stay awake until Swain got his fix and came back downstairs to relieve him.

     But he needn’t have worried. He’d be resting peacefully soon enough.

     Dave had spent many Saturday afternoons after he first purchased the crossbow, getting proficient at it and learning its capabilities. Like pretty much every other weapon he’d ever picked up, he quickly became a pro. And this shot, no more than twenty feet at a large stationary target, was a piece of cake.

     Davis never heart the shot from the crossbow. Never had to wonder what weapon could make such a strange sound. Never realized that death was flying toward his head at a hundred fifty feet per second.

     He never had time.

     The bolt crashed through the back of his skull and exited through his right eye, then went through the back of the couch and finally lodged in the wooden floor next to the entertainment cabinet.

     Davis’ head slumped forward against his chest. Karen, who could see Dave in the kitchen doorway and recognized him, resisted the urge to scream.

     Sarah immediately went to Davis and took the handcuff keys clipped to the dead man’s belt. She freed Karen and the two of them scurried to join Dave in the kitchen.

     Sarah kissed him and treated herself to a quick hug.

     Then she was back to business.

     “Now what?”

Chapter 46

     “Lind tells me there’s two more upstairs. One armed and one not. Let’s take care of the armed one first. Can you draw him out of his room and into the hallway?”

     “Yes.”

     “Good. Let’s go get him.”

     Two minutes later Sarah rapped lightly on Garcia’s bedroom door.

     A sleepy voice came from within the room.

     “Yes? What now?”

     “It’s Sarah,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Can I come in?”

     “Sure. Come in.”

     Sarah opened the door and walked in. The smiling man in the bed was suddenly wide awake.

     “Well, this is a nice surprise. Am I gonna get lucky?”

     Sarah managed a smile and said, quite honestly, “No. I’m afraid not.”

     “Then what’s up?”

     “Swain wants to see you. He said to be sure to catch you before you went to sleep.”

     “Hell, I was already asleep. Did he say what it was about?”

     “No. But he said it’s important. And he’s in one of his moods. I wouldn’t advise pissing him off by not coming.”

     “Damn it. I ain’t never gonna get any rest. Tell
his highness
I’ll be there in a minute.” 

     Sarah walked quietly into the hallway and into a darkened bedroom between Garcia’s room and Swain’s.

     After she entered, Dave pushed the door so it was ajar, but only slightly.

     Twenty seconds later Garcia’s bedroom door opened and he stepped into the hallway, wearing pants but no shirt. He plodded down the hall toward Swain’s room, and didn’t see Dave until the last moment, when Dave pushed the door open with his foot and fired his crossbow almost point blank into Garcia’s chest.

     It was a risky move on Dave’s part, shooting a man just feet from Swain’s bedroom door.

     But Lindsey had told Dave that Swain never carried weapons into his room. And Sarah confirmed that the only weapon in his room was a small pocket knife he used to slice open the bags from his drug dealer.

     The worst that could happen, according to Dave’s calculations, was that Swain would hear the shot and come into the hallway. If that were to happen, he’d be committing suicide.

     Or, he could lock the bedroom door, climb out the window and run into the woods. But he’d still be unarmed, and Dave would be right behind him.

     Neither scenario played out.

     Garcia was still drowsy and his reaction time was delayed. By the time he saw Dave pointing a crossbow at his chest, it was too late. He didn’t have time to rush Dave, or to duck, or even to cry out.

     He only had time to die.

     The bolt lodged itself in his spine and never left his body. So it didn’t make any additional noise crashing into the wall behind him.

     And Garcia didn’t fall face first to the floor in a sickening thud. He fell backwards against the wall, and merely crumpled to the floor.

     All in all, it was a virtually silent execution and Dave couldn’t have asked for a better outcome.

     Dave turned to Sarah and asked, “Is there anything else I need to know before I go barging in there?”

     She hesitated.

     “What?”

     “You’re not going in.”

     He was puzzled. But he could tell by the look on her face she was adamant.

     She continued.

     “
I’m
going in. Not you. You go downstairs. Be with your daughter. I’ll be down in a minute.”

     “But why?”

     “Because that asshole has brutalized me in more ways than you’ll ever know. Some were in ways I will never tell you about, out of embarrassment or shame. He is going to die today, and I have earned the right to kill him.”

     “Are you sure?”

     “I am sure. Don’t worry about me. Give me your gun and go to your daughter.”

     He took his weapon, made sure there was a round in the chamber, and released the safety.

     “It’s hot. Don’t give him a chance to take it away from you.” 

     “I promise.”

     Against his better judgement, he handed her the weapon. She walked away from him and into Swain’s bedroom, closing the door behind her.

     He almost did as he was told and went back down to the basement. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

     Instead, he readied his crossbow and stood next to Swain’s bedroom door, ready to kick it down and force his way into the room if he heard Sarah cry out or some other sound to indicate something had gone wrong.

Chapter 47

     Swain looked up nonchalantly as Sarah walked into the room.