Commodity (24 page)

When I’ve made the opening large enough to squeeze through, I find myself inside the empty main room.  I have no idea how much time I really have, so I make my way around the room to the other side of the building.

Beyond the wall, in the area I couldn’t see from the crack, there are two small doors side-by-side.  They look like stall doors from a public restroom.  I can see underneath them well enough to tell that there isn’t much inside other than a pile of blankets to make up a bed.  To the side of the stall doors, there’s another small cot.

Hannah is there, lying with her back to me, sleeping.  I can see her shoulders shift as she breathes steadily.  I check the door behind me as I approach and then lay my hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently.

“Hannah!” I call quietly.  “Hannah, wake up!  I gotta get you outta here!”

She doesn’t respond though I sense her breathing change.  I want to revel in the fact that she’s right here in front of me for the first time in seven months.  I can feel her warm skin under my fingers again, and all I want to do is hold her close to me and enjoy the moment, but I can’t.

“Hannah!  It’s me!  It’s Falk!  Now come on—I’m going to get you out!”

She still doesn’t move, so I grab onto her shoulder and pull her toward me.  Her eyes are open but dull and unseeing.  Her hair drops off her shoulders in long, greasy strands.  There’s a bruise on her cheek and smudges of dirt on her neck and arms.

But that’s not what alarms me.

When I look her over, I see her round, protruding stomach.

Oh fuck.  Oh fuck, no.

I have to force myself to start breathing again.  Hell, my heart may have stopped, too.  My fingers are shaking as everything hits me at once.  I know what they were doing to her—I’ve known it since the day they took her away—but seeing the evidence of what they have done is too much.

“Oh, shit, Hannah,” I whisper.  I run my hand along her arm, but she still hasn’t uttered a word.

What the fuck am I going to do?  How is she ever going to be able to live with this?

I consider smacking myself in the face to get my shit together.  Everything else can be assessed later—I have to get Hannah to safety.  I can’t fall apart now.

“Come on,” I say again.  This time I grab her by the shoulders and haul her to a sitting position.  She’s dead weight in my arms but stays up once she’s sitting.  I grab her legs and pull them over the edge of the cot, but I can’t get her to stand up.  She just stares into space without saying anything.

This is taking too long.

Out of options, I take a second to compose myself and then slip my arms underneath her.  I’m going to have to carry her like a child—there’s no way I can toss her over my shoulder with her swollen belly.  Carrying her isn’t easy.  I have difficulty just getting her through the crack I made in the wall, and I have to force it farther open while holding on to her with one arm.

Outside, I look at the rain barrel and stop.

There is no way I can put her in there.  She may not even fit in it at all, and even if she did, I can’t roll her around in her condition.

There’s a lot of movement off to my left.  Everyone in the group is breaking up now, moving off to start their new assignments.  The other guard could be back here at any moment.

“Not supposed to leave the stable.”  Hannah’s looking left and right, but there’s still only dim recognition in her eyes.

“I’m getting you out of here,” I tell her, but she doesn’t say anything else.

But how?

I can’t just walk carrying a limp, pregnant woman without being noticed, and I have no other way to conceal her.  Wrapping her up in a blanket or something like that would be equally suspicious.  I wouldn’t get ten feet without being questioned.

What could I say that wouldn’t arouse suspicion?  I need something that will be believable enough to allow me to get past whoever stops me without having to draw my gun.  If I have to fight my way out, I’m going to lose.

Possible reasons I might be moving her to another location run through my head, but anyone who stops me is going to wonder why I would be moving her at all.  It’s not my job.  Only one of her guards would be asked to do something like that.

The guard.

“Stay here,” I whisper to Hannah.  “Don’t move, okay?”

I have to lean her up against the wall, telling her again not to move.  She still doesn’t respond to me, and I’m not even sure if she knows what’s happening.  She does stand in one spot at least, giving me the chance to get what I need.

Crouching down to stay out of the line of sight, I rush over to the dead guard.  On his wrist is a black rubber wristband with a silver “X” on it.  Slipping it off his hand, I place it over my own and roll up my sleeve so it can be plainly seen.

I get back to Hannah, wrap my arm around her waist to support her, take a deep breath, and then start walking purposefully down the path toward the storeroom.

“Come on, Hannah,” I whisper in her ear.  “You gotta walk with me.  Just a little ways, then everything’s going to be okay.”

There are still a lot of people in the group near the Kessler, drinking coffee and complaining about their assignments.  Others have broken off from their groups.  The first two glance at me but say nothing.  The third one is the man I saw yesterday leading the traders around the camp.

He narrows his eyes as he watches me walk closer to him.  I can see the questions forming inside his head already.  I beat him to the punch.

“Hey!” I call out to the guy who is eyeing me.  “Where’s Brett?”

“What are you doing with her?” he asks with a glare.  “She isn’t supposed to be out of the stable.”

“Hey, I just got this job,” I tell him as I hold up my wrist.  “Brett said he wanted her brought to him and Caesar right away.  I’m just trying to do my damn job!”

He continues to eye me suspiciously.

“Come on, dude,” I plead with him, “I only got here last night.  I don’t want to fuck this up.”

His face relaxes a little.

“They were headed toward the depot,” he tells me.  “Someone just brought in a new batch of toilet paper, and some fuckers are already fighting over it.  It’s on the other side of the main entrance.”

“Cool,” I say.  “Thanks a lot, dude.  I owe ya one.”

“You’ll be all right,” he says.  “Pretty nice duty for the first day!”

“I ain’t arguing!”  We both laugh, and I move quickly past him, heading in the direction he indicated.

When I’m sure he’s not checking on my route, I veer off and pull Hannah over to the storeroom.  I have to pull her close and balance her against my hip to pull the door open.  Thankfully, there’s no one inside.  I shift her weight to my other arm to get her through the door.

“What the fuck?”

I glance over my shoulder and see Brett standing not twenty feet from me.

“Hey!” he screams at me, and I see his eyes widen in recognition.  “Motherfucker!  You aren’t going anywhere with her!  Caesar!”

Fuck!

I shove Hannah the rest of the way into the storeroom and slam the door behind me.  I let her go, and she sways slightly but doesn’t fall.  I grab onto one of the shelves with both hands and pull as hard as I can, toppling the shelf in front of the door.  I grab the table from the middle of the room and lodge it in front of the door as well.

“Move, Hannah!”

She’s still almost completely non-responsive.  I grab her arm and pull her to the crates near the opening.  I have to drag the crate back farther to fit her through the crack and then shove her into the tunnel.

“Come on,” I tell her.  “You gotta crawl.  Move with me, Hannah.  You can do it!  Move!”

I shove her ass to get her to go, and she moves a couple of feet.  It’s enough for me to grab the crate and pull it back, blocking the tunnel.  I can hear scraping sounds coming from the door, along with a lot of yelling and cursing.  The mess from the shelf won’t hold them for long.

I shove at Hannah again, trying to get her to go, but she doesn’t even seem to be aware of what’s going on around her.  I’m not sure if she’s in shock or just shut herself down, but I don’t have time to figure that out now.  I keep pushing and encouraging her, and we finally get to the other side of the tunnel.

A shot is fired behind me, and I hear the bullet ricochet off the side of the tunnel.

“Go out the front entrance!” I hear Brett yell.  “Cut them off before they can get out!  I’ve got them from this side!”

“Goddammit, Hannah!  Move your ass!” I scream.

I don’t know if my voice or the shot spurs her on, but she moves faster.  She gets out of the tunnel and stands up on the other side, turning and moving backward as I start to crawl out.

A hand grabs onto my ankle, and I’m pulled off balance.  I fall forward and land in the debris on the floor, cutting my hand on something in the process.

I roll quickly, drawing my gun, but I’m not fast enough.  Brett is on top of me, and I take a right hook to the chin.  The back of my head bounces off the floor, stunning me for a second.  Brett is straddling my chest, grabbing his gun from a shoulder holster and swinging it toward my face.

I slam my fist into his crotch.  I don’t have enough leverage to really make it count, but it slows him down enough for me to grab his wrist and twist it backward.  The gun falls to the floor, sliding out of reach.  I quickly punch up and into Brett’s nose.  He jerks back as blood spatters over my face.

Turning my hips, I dislodge him and pin him to the ground.  With my knees on his shoulders, I land blow after blow into his face.

How many times?  How many times has he hurt her?

I punch again.  I’m fairly certain I’ve cracked one of my knuckles, and I don’t care.  I should have killed him when he first touched her.  I wanted to.  My gut instinct told me to, and I didn’t do it.  He’s punching me in the side, bruising my ribs, but I don’t stop.

A sudden, sharp pain in the side of my head sends me to the ground.  I’m not sure what he hit me with, but Brett is now on top of me, wrapping his fingers around my throat.  At first, I’m too dazed to respond.  All I can manage is to grab his fingers and try to pull them off my throat, but it’s no use.

I’m lightheaded.  I can’t be more than a minute away from losing consciousness.  I have to move.  I have to
think
, but the dizziness is getting to be too much.  I can’t loosen his fingers from my neck.

No.  If he gets me, he’ll get her back.  Oh fuck, no!

With all my strength, I reach up and grab a hold of his shirt, wrapping it up in my fingers.  I yank him down as I clench my stomach and pull myself up, slamming my forehead into his.  It dazes me, but it also gets his hands off my neck.

I roll to the side, choking and gasping.  Brett is on my back a second later, and we roll again through the rubble all over the floor.  Something hard slams into my shoulder, halting the roll with Brett back on top of me.  He doesn’t grab for my throat again, though—he reaches for whatever stopped me.

The barrel of my Sig is pointed under my jaw.

Brett’s eyes are wild as he grins maniacally down at me.

“You never should have come here,” he says.

The blast rings through my ears.  I wait for the pain, but nothing comes.

Am I dead?

There’s screaming, but the sound is dulled in my ringing ears.  I realize Brett’s weight is no longer holding me down, and I roll to one side.

Brett is next to me, holding his shoulder and yelling at the top of his voice.  I look toward the wall and see Hannah.  In her hands is Brett’s gun.

Holy shit!  She shot him!

I look back to Brett, who is still rolling on the floor in pain.  I grab my Sig from where he left it and waste no time shooting two rounds into his chest and another in his head.  I stare at the body for a long moment, making sure there is no room for doubt before I clamber back to my feet.  I stumble a little—my head is swimming and my ears are ringing—and make my way to Hannah’s side.  Slowly, I cover the barrel of the gun with my palm and take it out of her hands.

Hannah takes a step back, pushing herself against the wall near the broken glass door.  She wraps her hands around her stomach, and tears start to run down her face.  Her eyes are still blank, but she comes with me when I pull on her arm.  Her other hand still reaches around her stomach, cupping the bulge.

Marco stares at her with wide eyes as I bring her out to the street.

“Where’s Chuck?” I ask.

“He told me to come make sure you got out!  He’s at the front gate.  There were a lot of guys coming out, but I think he was leading them the other way.”

“They know I’m coming out over here,” I say, shifting Hannah’s weight on my arm.  “I need to get her out of here.  We
all
need to get out of here.”

“Marco and Katrina are at the old Coke place.”

“You go ahead,” I tell him.  “Get them ready to move out.  We’ll cover you.”

Marco rushes off, and another shot rings out.  I recognize the sound of the discharge of my rifle.  I glance at Christine and then in the direction she’s aiming.