Days of Danger Read online

  “Oh, a hometown hero. And who might you be?”

  “Someone who’s seen people like you before.”

  “Is that so? And what type of people would that be?”

  “Assholes with small dicks and big egos.”

  Dallas smiled and took another sip of his beer before he crouched down in front of Damon. “I’ve got to ask myself. What kind of man insults another when he’s on his knees, zip tied and unarmed?” He paused for a second. “Don’t answer that. Let me answer it for you.” He rose and took off his jacket and flipped it around. “You see this?” He pointed to the outline of a patch. “This belonged to the leader of a motorcycle gang who thought they were going to take over Saranac. Of course they didn’t have any bikes but they had balls, just like you. In fact, if I recall, he said something very similar to me right before I blew a hole in his skull.” Dallas tossed the jacket onto the bar and pulled out a Smith & Wesson revolver from the back of his waistband. He pressed it against Damon’s head.

  “Now give me one good reason why you shouldn’t join him in the shallow grave out back.”

  Elliot leaned forward on his knees. “Hey, c’mon, he was just being an asshole,” Elliot said coming to his defense. “He’s always like that.”

  Dallas eyed him and repositioned a toothpick that was at the corner of his mouth. “You in charge?”

  “No.”

  “I said are you in charge?”

  “No.”

  “Then shut the fuck up!”

  He turned back to Damon and looked as if he was contemplating killing him. He cocked the gun and Damon didn’t even flinch. It wasn’t hard to tell if he was ready to die. His actions were clear enough. Death was no longer something to be feared, in many ways it was a sweet relief from the hellish existence.

  Dallas de-cocked the gun and slid it back into his jeans. He took another swig of his beer then offered Damon a drink. When Damon said nothing, Dallas turned it and poured the remainder over his head — golden liquid streamed down Damon’s skin, dripping to the ground.

  “There we go. Don’t say I don’t share.”

  He turned back to the bar and tossed the bottle behind it. From Elliot’s position on the floor he could see hundreds of empty bottles scattered on the floor. “So, which one of you brave folks is going to tell me who you are, where you’re from, where you were heading and what you are doing in my town? You see because I’m not sure how it works where you come from but here, things have changed.” He went around the bar and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, unscrewed it and poured out three fingers into a glass. He tucked it back under and took a drink. “For instance, that road you just used has a toll on it. And what that means is if you use it, you are going to have to pay. Now, being as you have been good enough to hand over a set of wheels without incident, I’m going to take that as payment. And because you’ve given me this lovely gal,” he said as he walked over and ran his hand around the back of Ella’s head, “I’m going to be extremely lenient. In fact that’s why your friend doesn’t have a bullet in his skull right now.” He glanced at Elliot. “Oh, did you think it was because you spoke on your friend’s behalf?” He shook his head. “No. He’s alive because you’ve given me two things I want. Now all I want is a few answers to my questions and then you can go on your way.” He turned to his bearded friend at the bar. “That would be a first, wouldn’t it, Vern?”

  “That it would,” he replied.

  “So?”

  Sean piped up before Elliot could speak. “Lake Placid. We were on our way to a ranch out on County Road 18. There are supposed to be horses there.”

  “Really?” He leaned against the bar taking a sip and smiling. “Oh this day is getting better by the minute. In fact, I’m starting to like this group. You know what, Vern, I might even offer them a drink.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Vern replied.

  He cocked his head. “Ah, maybe you’re right.” He gazed at them. “And what were you planning on doing with these horses?”

  “Leaving Lake Placid and heading down to a FEMA camp in New York, well, that’s what Gary here wanted to do. Elliot wants to head to a compound in Texas.”

  “Oh, a divided house. Isn’t that interesting?” He eyed them as if contemplating what to say next. Dallas took the bottle of whiskey off the counter and filled his glass again before taking a seat on a stool.

  “And how many more of you are in Lake Placid?”

  “Around ten families.”

  “Shut up,” Elliot said to Sean. Dallas picked up on it.

  “Oh don’t worry, we don’t have any reason to head your way. However, I am interested in that ranch. Those horses would come in real handy right about now. You see, I don’t know about you but meat is hard to come by and I’m thinking a nice bit of rump horse would go down like a treat, what do you say, Vern?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Well then it looks like we have a road trip ahead of us.”

  Chapter 8

  Across the country in East Texas, Ryan Hayes joined the rest of New Hope Springs in reconstructing the wall that those bastards had blown up. A hard morning sun bore down making them curse. There wasn’t even a breeze. His brother Samuel Hayes grumbled as he mixed the concrete powder together while Ryan scooped it up into a wheelbarrow. Sweat dripped off his brow. They’d been at this for close to an hour and even with the hundred plus residents it wasn’t easy.

  Samuel was thirty-one, two years younger than Ryan — a fair-haired kid, strong, close to six foot. He’d been working as a paramedic before the lights went out. Both had grown up in a military family. Their father had been hard on them as he tried to instill the desire to serve their country like his father and his before. It worked. Both were in the military before pursuing other ways to serve their country.

  “If dad was here, he wouldn’t have let them get away with this.”

  “Well, he isn’t, so it’s down to us,” Ryan replied.

  “Those bastards didn’t even allow us to give them a proper funeral.”

  After the attack on the compound, all those that had fallen were dragged away and piled up for a mass burial on the east side. They were treated no different than Jews by the Nazis — simply dumped into an unmarked grave without any regard for who they were or those left behind. When they would be buried was anyone’s guess. It would have to be soon before they started to stink. No doubt it would be them who would have to do it.

  “Whoever killed those men last night did us a favor. I hope they get more.”

  Ryan glanced at him but didn’t say anything. He could have told him but that meant placing his life in jeopardy. If things went to plan that night he would kill another two. After that, there was no telling if Shelby would interrogate and if he did, what methods he’d use. A part of him knew the risk but what other option did he have? He was only able to pull it off because he’d seen the blueprint of the underground tunnels and knew where the air ducts led. That was how he’d managed to get out of his room without being seen.

  “Maybe they will,” he replied. Samuel gave him a questioning look. He glanced around a few times and then came over and grabbed him.

  “That better not have been you.”

  Ryan pushed him back. “And if it was?”

  “It’s one thing to kill them, another to put your life in danger. I’ve already lost dad, I’m not losing you.”

  “And you won’t.”

  Ryan eyed the armed soldiers walking back and forth like prison guards making sure the chain gang wasn’t slacking. If they didn’t maintain a good pace, they would come up and shove them with the butt of their rifles. His eyes roamed to where Shelby was sitting, drinking beer and observing them like an Egyptian pharaoh. Their eyes locked and Ryan looked away. He picked up a wheelbarrow and pushed it over to the wall. After dropping it, he sat down to catch his breath when a soldier approached him.

  “You. Come with me.”

  Ryan wiped sweat from his brow and followed him
, passing by Samuel who eyed him while continuing to work. The soldier led him to the stands, which were in front of the archery field. The soldier told him where to stop and wait. Shelby took another swig of his drink before speaking. “Harlan says you were involved with the tactical division, is that right?”

  He nodded without giving a verbal response.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Ryan Hayes.”

  “How long were you in the military?”

  “Long enough.”

  Shelby smirked.

  “You wouldn’t by any chance know who was behind the deaths of my two men last night, would you?”

  He didn’t hesitate in shaking his head. Shelby wiped his lips with a napkin after finishing off a plate of food before stepping down from the stands and walking over.

  “Did you train these people to fight?”

  “Tried to.”

  “I like that. Tried. It allows room for error. No one is held responsible if you… tried.” He smiled and blew cigarette smoke in his face. “You want one?”

  Ryan nodded. He might have turned him down but part of the reason he was on edge was a lack of nicotine. Since they’d arrived he hadn’t had one. He looked over his shoulder towards the others. Shelby continued, “Go on. I can see you want one. Don’t worry about what they think.”

  He took it and placed it between his lips and Shelby lit it. He breathed in deeply and for a few seconds felt at ease before Shelby placed his arm around him and led him over to the bench.

  “Take a load off your feet. Have a beer.”

  Ryan reached into a bucket and pulled one out. It was warm.

  “I kind of miss ice, don’t you?” Shelby asked.

  Ryan shrugged, cracked it open and downed it because they’d skimped on giving them water.

  “You know all of this would have happened, anyway. I mean, repairing the wall. It’s just a pity you have to suffer through it. Now if I knew who was responsible. Maybe I could reduce that suffering.”

  He paused, waiting for Ryan to respond.

  Shelby stuck his tongue in his cheek and leaned forward holding a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. “Look, I’ll get straight to the point. I really don’t want to have to kill any more people. That’s not what I had in mind when we arrived, despite what you might think. No, the only way this engine will run smoothly is with all of us working together. And I’ll be the first to admit, it’s going to take some work for you all to trust me but that’s where I thought you might come in. Harlan says these folks look up to you.”

  “He’d be mistaken. I’m not in charge,” Ryan replied.

  “No, but you were the first to step outside the bunker.”

  Ryan frowned. “And?”

  “It means you were willing to risk your neck for these people.”

  Ryan drained the remainder of the beer from the can and tossed it.

  Shelby continued, “You’ve gained their respect. People confide in those they respect that’s why I want you to be the bridge between us and them.” Shelby looked at his right-hand man, the one that went by the name John.

  “Not sure what you expect of me.”

  Shelby looked across the yard and sniffed hard. “I expect you to put your ear to the ground, keep your eyes open. I imagine there are those among the group that would confide in you. You see, Ryan, I could stand here all day long and threaten them but it’s not going to get me anywhere. Trying to find who’s responsible for these deaths right now is like looking for a needle in a haystack. It’s a waste of resources. But you! You could do it for me.”

  “If they wouldn’t tell you when you were threatening them with a gun, what makes you think they would tell me?”

  “You’re not listening. They trust you.”

  “So you want me to act like a Trojan horse for you, so you can eventually weed out one individual and kill them?”

  “No, this is not about killing, it’s about bestowing my goodness upon the rest of the ones here who didn’t act selfishly.”

  “Selfish? What, you think killing two people from a group that killed more than twenty of ours is selfish?”

  “Okay, wrong choice of words.” He eyed Ryan carefully. “But you have to understand. You would have never opened those gates without force.”

  Ryan scowled. “Oh so it’s our fault?” He paused. “If someone breaks into a store is the owner at fault because they locked their doors?”

  Shelby motioned with his cigarette. “These are dangerous times.”

  “So that gives you the right to burst in and kill people and take what we have?”

  Shelby stood up and squared off to him. “I don’t care what you think is right or wrong in this situation. It is what it is, and you will roll with it or be added to the pile over there,” he said motioning with his eyes. “Now back to what I’m asking you to do. Will you do it or do I need to find someone more compliant?”

  “No, I’ll do it but I can’t guarantee making progress. If whoever is doing this doesn’t want to speak, they won’t.”

  Shelby looked at the people then back at him. “Do what you can.”

  He turned to walk away.

  “And what do I get out of it?” Ryan asked.

  He heard Shelby chuckle before he turned back. “A businessman. I like that.” He ran a hand over his face and regarded Ryan with a look of admiration. “Find out who’s responsible before the day is out and you’ll all eat today.”

  “You offered that deal to all of us.”

  “Okay then, bring me the person responsible and I will ensure you don’t have to do shifts around this place.”

  Ryan snorted, turned and walked back to work. Shelby was desperate and unhinged and that was a dangerous recipe for disaster.

  Elliot was deeply troubled by what had unfolded. After Sean willingly gave information to Dallas, their zip ties were cut, and then they were strong-armed out of the bar and taken next door to a grimy auto repair shop. Outside there were multiple dilapidated vehicles lined up. Inside, the stench of grease and oil permeated. There were two rusted-out sedans on car stands, with the hoods popped as if the owner of the business had started work and gave up.

  “Don’t even think about trying to escape,” Dallas said.

  The door was shut behind them and locked in place.

  There was no rear exit as the garage butted up against a steep rock face. There were two doors either side, one at the front and a two-vehicle entranceway, but they had three of their guys outside watching over the place.

  Gary kicked an oil can across the floor. “Well this is fucking great!”

  “Steady there my friend, you’re liable to blow a blood vessel,” Damon said.

  “Ah screw you!”

  “Come on, Gary, it’s not his fault,” Elliot said.

  “No, it’s yours.”

  Elliot bristled pointing to his chest. “Mine?”

  “Yeah, if you had just agreed to let us use the Jeep we would have been miles away from Lake Placid by now.”

  “Well first off, how were you going to fit everyone in that Jeep? You needed those horses. And second, it wasn’t your damn vehicle to take.”

  Gary waved him off. “I’m not getting into this with you. Chances are we’ll all be dead by the end of today.”

  Sean piped up, “No we won’t. You heard him. We gave him the vehicle and her, he said he would let us go.”

  “Yeah, what the hell was you thinking?” Damon shouted at him.

  “I was making damn sure we didn’t die. You can thank me later.”

  “The fuck I will,” Damon said turning away.

  “Guys, this is not helping,” Zach said. “We just need to figure out how to get out of here.”

  “We’re not,” Gary added in a pessimistic tone.

  Elliot looked at Ella who had closed the hood on one of the vehicles and hopped up. For someone likely to be murdered later by Dallas and his crew, she was acting very calm and collected. He strolled over and
hopped up beside her. She shot him a sideways glance.

  “I’m sorry,” she said with a soft voice.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

  “But I got you into this mess.”

  “No you didn’t,” Elliot replied. “People are people. Even if you weren’t with us, they would have stopped us and probably killed us by now. In fact you might have saved us.”

  She snorted. “Look at you all positive and shit.”

  He smiled and glanced over at Gary who was rooting through a toolbox. “Someone has to be. I have a wife and kids to get back to and this sure as hell isn’t going to be my final resting place.”

  He reached into his pocket for a cigarette then realized he didn’t have any.

  “Any of you got a smoke?”

  “No, I’m all out,” Damon replied.

  “Guy outside took mine when he frisked us,” Zach said.

  Elliot nodded and let out a heavy sigh. “Well, I figure it will take them a few hours before they’re back, well, that’s if they leave immediately. If they return empty-handed there is a fifty-fifty chance we’ll die. If they come back with horses, we might be in luck.”

  “What?” Gary said. “You act as if we are getting out of here.”

  “I am. Maybe not alive but I’m not going to make killing me easy.”

  Zach chuckled. “Either of those cars got keys inside?” he asked before taking a look.

  “Even if they did, they are too new.”

  “New?” He broke off a piece of rusted metal from a side panel.

  “It’s not what it’s made of, it’s when it was made,” Damon said.

  At the rear of the garage Gary sounded all pleased with himself.

  “Aha!” Gary said pulling out a large wrench and swinging it around. “Here, catch!” He tossed it to Elliot, and he caught it in his left hand. “There’s more where that came from.”

  Zach and Damon went over to see what they could find. Elliot handed the oversized wrench to Ella. Meanwhile Sean looked on with an expression of confusion. “What the hell are you planning on doing? Are you really going to go up against armed men with wrenches? You are going to get us all killed. No, I say we do nothing. Wait until this Dallas guy gets back and he’ll let us go. Just like he promised.”