Brain Storm (A Taylor Morrison Novel Book 1) (16 page)

“Hey, is this a taser?” Trinity asked. At Mac’s nod, she pocketed it. “Then I’m keeping it,” she declared to anyone who cared. No one did.
 

Within seconds, there were enough weapons loaded into the van to start World War III. As Mac closed the panel concealing the gun room, he thrust a Springfield 9 mm semi-auto into my hand along with a couple of extended magazines. Jonas grabbed them away.

"Don’t give her those. She can’t shoot,” Jonas chastised him.

Mac grabbed them right back and shoved them into my hands.

“Oh yes she can. We’ve been to the shooting range once a week for the past three years. She’s a great shot.”

Jonas looked at me with raised eyebrows. “We’ve?” he asked.
 

“Don’t look at me. Apparently we’ve been a lot of places together I wasn’t aware of.”
 

Jonas watched Mac’s back as he strode out the door to the van loaded down with guns.
 

“Three years?” he asked.

“Seven.”

Jonas cursed under his breath, then quickly looked around to see if Trinity had heard him and I had to stifle a smile. Poor guy. If he thought he had it tough now, just wait until Mama D got here. At the thought of Mama D, the sense of urgency returned to me full force. We were as ready as we’d ever be. It was time to go get her.

MAC KEPT THE van lights off until we were well away from the turnoff to the house. The clock read 11:30 p.m., which I found hard to believe. It felt like days had gone by, but events had happened so quickly, it had only been a matter of hours. It had taken us longer to set the table and eat a meal than it had to fend off an attack, kill seven, no make that eight men, and flee the scene. Thanks to the back country hills of Little Rock, our hideout, for lack of a better word, was only minutes from I-430, which put us about 20 minutes from Mama D.
 

Trinity and I sat in silence, watching the trees glide by in the dark, praying we would get there in time.

“How much time do you think we have?” I asked, directing my question to the front of the van.
 

“Before what?” Mac answered. “Before they realize that’s not our bodies in the condo? It all depends on how much damage the fire did. Depends on whether or not the guy who set the fire managed to get a call out before I took him down.
 

“What’s he talking about, Jonas? Has this got something to do with Grams?” Trinity was getting louder with each question. Her tone was accusing and I braced myself, expecting Jonas to react accordingly. Instead he surprised me, calmly turning around to explain.

“It comes down to this. If the bodies were badly burned, we have some time before the police realize it’s not us and start looking. We might not be so lucky if the guys looking for Taylor know she’s still obtainable. I think you and Taylor should stay in the van when we get there. There might be trouble.”

Mac and Trinity both snorted at the same time and Jonas looked to me to back him up. I thought he might have a point, especially where I was concerned, what with the loose cannon, lack of control thing I had, but on the other hand, I had no intention of sitting anything out and there was no way he was going to keep Trinity in the van. He was so obviously the new guy here. I just shrugged and he turned back to Mac, obviously not happy, but smart enough to let it go. “How secure is the cabin?”.

“They don’t know about the cabin.”

This raised Jonas’ eyebrows along with mine. “They don’t know? It’s not part of their plan?”

“It’s part of my plan, not part of theirs.”

Mac had suspected them. The government. Something had happened to make him think he might need a place to hide.
 

“You’re hanging out there pretty far on that limb, Mac.” Jonas told him.

“All by my lonesome,” Mac agreed, as he pulled into the subdivision where Mama D lived.

“Not anymore,” Jonas whispered as Mac cut the lights and rolled to a stop. “We walk from here. Load up.”

FIFTEEN

MAC PARKED THE van at the end of the block, around the corner and two houses down from Mama D’s behind the Lang home. We had done a slow drive past the front. The house was dark and quiet, just like the street. The neighborhood was a mix of families and retirees, with tidy lawns sporting swing sets or garden benches, depending on who owned what. As it was nearing midnight, most were in bed, fast asleep. Just to be on the safe side, we decided to approach the house from the back, cutting through the Lang’s backyard, using their landscaping for cover. No sense advertising our presence. Trinity was armed with her taser, and I had my gun ready, the extra clips stowed in my pockets. Mac and Jonas were ahead of us, guns drawn. As we crept through the Lang’s border hedge, I could only imagine what we looked like and prayed nonstop that we didn’t get shot. I was as much worried about the gun-toting Arkansans, as I was the guys we were up against.

I had the wild thought, as I squeezed past Mrs. Lang’s bird-feeder that maybe we should have phoned the police. Oh wait, that’s right. We’re the bad guys as far as they are concerned. We had dead guys piling up around us, and I was sure we were carrying illegal weapons. They’d slap us in jail so fast we wouldn’t know what hit us. Then the government turncoat could just sweep in and grab us all. What was I thinking?

Mac signaled for us to stop and get down. I hit the ground and blew the grass out of my face. Trinity was off my knee to the left. Jonas and Mac, ahead of me by about six or seven feet. Between the moon and glow of the street lights, visibility was way too good for my comfort level. All anyone had to do was glance out a window and they’d see us, plain as day. I didn’t know if it was my hair standing on end or if I was lying in a pile of fire ants, but either way, my skin was crawling. I needed to move and soon. If I was lying in fire ants and they started biting, it was going to be sooner. Mac wasn’t moving though, so I steeled myself and listened. In the silence, I heard a screen door creak open. Not sure if the sound came from in front of us or not, I glanced around to make sure none of the neighbors were taking aim.

There was no mistaking which direction the gunshot came from though. Trinity was up and running for the house before the rest of us had gained our feet. Jonas made a lunge for her, but missed and she was off like a shot, taser in hand.
 

We were all three hot on her heels, but she reached the back door first and cleared the four steps in a single leap, exploding through the door to land in a heap on the kitchen floor as another shot rang out. Jonas, Mac and I split and headed for the sides of the doorway, ducking and bobbing as we ran in case they were firing at us. Jonas signaled Mac as he pealed off to head around to the front, leaving Mac and me at the back door. Cautiously sticking my head around the door, I could just make out the bottom of Trinity’s shoe in the entrance to the dining room before she jerked it out of sight.

She was on the floor and I couldn’t tell from the glance I’d had, whether she was injured, but at least she was alive. We heard Jonas break through the front door and Mac and I went in through the back, fast and low, quickly clearing the kitchen and heading into the dining room, where Trinity had disappeared. Mac covered me as I stepped through the doorway, and skimmed along the wall toward the living room, where Trinity was waiting, crouched against the wall next to the doorway. A body lay on the floor blocking the passageway, the dark stain of blood spreading on the floor a real good indicator that Trinity’s taser hadn’t taken him down. Mac brushed past me and quickly stopped to check the body, shaking his head as he took cover behind the wall. It wasn’t Jonas. They had gotten here before us. Question was, how many had they sent.
 

We had moved fast, coming through the house at a good speed. There had been no sound from Jonas since we’d entered and the house was eerily quiet now. I caught Mac’s eye and we rounded the doorway into the living room only to find Jonas standing at the wrong end of a shotgun, hands in the air.
 

“Gram!” hissed Trinity from behind me. “Put that gun down.” Mama D had no intention of doing any such thing. Instead, she poked him a good one in the stomach with it, driving him back a step.

“Mama D,” I whispered, frantic that she might shoot him, worried that others were coming who were a much bigger threat. “That’s Jonas. You remember him. We’re here to help you.”

“I know who he is,” Mama D informed me, clearly insulted. “Why’d you think I didn’t shoot him like that other one?”

“Mama D,” I tried again, seeing porch lights turn on at the neighbors house through the living room window, while trying to ignore what she’d just told me. “We don’t have much time. People are after us and we have to go. We’ve come to get you.” Mac edged past them and headed up the stairs to check the rest of the house. Time was running out as we heard sirens in the distance.

“Gram, we have to go. Now.” Trinity was waving her taser around and I was afraid she might fire it off by accident and Mama D still hadn’t lowered the shotgun.
 

Mac came back down the stairs in a rush and holstered his gun. “We’re going now.” He took the shotgun right out of Mama D’s hands and tossed it to Jonas, who quickly disappeared toward the back of the house. “Mama D,” he said, guiding the little woman toward the kitchen, “it’s not safe here anymore. You’re coming with us. Is there anything you have to take with you?”

“Well, I would like my medicines and my pictures,” she told him.
 

Trinity and I went tearing through the house. As I snatched up Mama D’s framed photos, I could hear Trinity pounding up the stairs after the medicine. I grabbed the afghan Mama D had made for the sofa and threw the frames into it, hoping to muffle the noise and make them easier to carry. I was bent over, grabbing the ends together, when I realized I wasn’t alone.
 

“Stop right where you are!” An angry voice demanded. It was Mr. Lang. Of the bird feeder yard we’d just been crawling though. He’d made good time. Really good time. I froze where I was, picture frame in my hand, knowing a gun came with that voice and he probably wouldn’t need much of an excuse to fire it. It was dark and I was sure he had no idea it was me stealing the family photos. I could hear the nearing sirens, and knew he’d managed to call in the gunshots before heading over. Or maybe he’d had Mrs. Lang call it in. Whatever the case, we didn’t have time for this. There wasn’t much I could do about it, though. I wasn’t about to shoot him. He was a friend, after all, and in other circumstances, I would have been happy to have seen him show up. If I turned around, I knew he would recognize me and lower the gun, but I didn’t really want him telling the police and whoever else showed up asking, that I’d been here. And then there was the dead man lying a few feet away. That would be hard to explain.

I was quickly running out of options when I caught movement from the corner of my eye and threw myself on the floor just as Trinity took aim and fired the taser. She caught Mr. Lang right between the shoulder blades, and he went down like a house of bricks, the shotgun he’d been holding skittering across the floor, slamming to a stop against the wall. The noise brought Jonas running back into the room but the sight of Mr. Lang on the floor stopped him in his tracks.

“Neighbor,” I managed to hiss out as I checked the poor man’s pulse. He was out cold, but he was alive. Jonas reached down and in one fluid movement, he had Mr. Lang up and over his shoulder. He headed toward the back door, motioning for us to follow. I grabbed up my makeshift sack of photos and snagged the shotgun as we ran to through the kitchen and out into the yard. Jonas stopped to lay the stunned man down in the yard a safe distance from the house and I dropped the shotgun down next to him. Then watched as Jonas loped back to the house, stopping to pick up the bottle of lighter fluid Mama D kept by the outdoor grill. My heart sank when I realized he was going to borrow a page from earlier in the evening and torch the house. It was a good plan and would hopefully buy us some time, but I knew what the house had meant to Trinity. This was going to kill her. I turned to see if she was still nearby, but she had run through the yard, following Mac and Mama D. Hopefully we would be away before the flames took hold and she wouldn’t have to see it.

I waited for Jonas while he went about his business. Saw the match flare to life and arch into the kitchen as he tossed it through the open door. It took a second for the fire to catch and Jonas waited, just to make sure. Then we were running, putting distance between us, the house and body inside, keeping to the backyards and the bushes as the police cars came screaming down the street. We ran for the safety of the van, which sat idling safely where we had left it. Trinity had the back sliding door open, waving us on. We threw ourselves inside and Mac was off and moving before Trinity had the door closed. Gasping for air, we kept our heads down, as Mac wove slowly down the street, attempting to blend in with the neighborhood and the people who were coming out of their houses to see what the commotion was all about.
 

Finally reaching a main road, Mac turned onto it and put the pedal down. I glanced out the window at the lights and store fronts speeding past, waiting for the sound of sirens to fall in behind us in pursuit, but with each second that went by in silence, I felt increasingly confident that we had gotten in and out without attracting notice.
 

“Where now?” I asked as Jonas made his way up front to the empty passenger seat. Trinity had Mama D belted into a back seat and she was sitting quietly, arms wrapped around the purse she had somehow managed to grab on the way out. She didn’t seem at all phased for someone who had just killed a man and almost been kidnapped. I raised a questioning eyebrow at Trinity, and got a shoulder shrug back in response.