FORSAKEN: THE SYSTEMIC SERIES (10 page)

Ava crawled into the backseat of the crew cap pickup as they drove and opened the sliding glass window so that she could explain the plan to the druggies.  She didn’t really care if they understood it or not.  Their role was to unload from their current ride into the armored pickup waiting just outside the armory.  From there they would drive inside the armory grounds, pile out, guns blazing while trying not to get shot in the process. 

They were a distraction – that was all; a way to divert the attention of the trader and his men while her main attack force arrived.

* * *

At 11:45 a.m., they sat a mile outside the armory.  Kill King and the Fallback Man had left 15 minutes earlier to scout the location and take up their positions upon the garage rooftop.  Jake went through the plan again with the men as though he’d developed the whole thing himself.  He seemed to like showing off for the druggies, although Ava had no idea why he’d try to impress such scum.  Nonetheless, if Jake was happy, she was happy since it kept him out of her hair. 

Then – with five minutes to go until the attack was to start – they handed out firearms to the addicts.  They were given loaded assault rifles and an extra three full magazines.  Then they were quickly ushered by Jake into the back of the armored pickup where, if there was a mishap with one of the firearms, in his words, “No one important would get hurt.”

There were two reasons Ava had picked noon as their chosen “go” time.  First, the information she had collected told her that the trader and his men were typically in the middle of lunch at the noon hour.  Therefore, she hoped that they would be eating, drowsy, maybe a little drunk, and altogether unprepared for an assault during their meal.  Second, noon was as long as she dared keep her addicts pent up waiting to go.  She’d gathered them at around eleven, and the effects of the small drug doses she’d handed out would be starting to wear off, which could leave them less brazen.  She didn’t want them all deserting her at the last critical moment.  She’d learned in previous raids that often when one druggy got the nervous itch to go, it set off a chain reaction, and within seconds they’d all be tucking tail and fleeing.  And this kind of last-minute desertion could ruin the whole plan.

Engines were then fired up and the addict-bearing pickup rolled ahead.  It was followed by the armored SUV, while Jake and Ava’s personal SUV brought up the rear.  They would watch the attack from the cover of their SUV about 100 yards from where the main assault was to take place.  Before they rolled, Johnny Switchblade got out and raised a thick steel plate up in front of their windshield and locked it in place.  Thin slits – just big enough to see through – were cut into the plate for driver and passenger, providing them with a safe way to view the attack. 

Jake sat slouched in the middle of the backseat like the king he felt he was.  Ava sat in the front passenger seat beside Switchblade as he drove.  She liked to watch the attack.  It provided her with the data she needed to make adjustments to future raids.

Minutes later, the junkie-filled pickup truck crashed through the locked chain-link gate right on time, skidded to a stop near the center of the armory intersection, and the addicts were out of the pickup, finding cover, and laying down some wildly inaccurate fire just like they were supposed to.  Ava knew that with only four magazines, and without the discipline to be selective in their targeting, the addicts would quickly burn through their ammo allotment.  Therefore, timing was everything.  Get the second wave there too early and the junkies might get confused and turn their fire on their own men.  Get them their just a little too late and the junkies would be wiped out and the armory’s defenders would be ready and waiting for them. 

Two of the junkies focused on the small warehouse where the main office was alleged to be located.  Two others aimed in the general direction of the vehicle garage that was the focus of the main attack.  Another peeled off rounds at the nearby barracks.  And the final junky just seemed to be spraying fire erratically and indiscriminately back and forth between all the buildings. 

It didn’t take long for the trader’s guards to react to the attack.  Just as the armored pickup was rounding the corner and escaping up between the barracks and the empty vehicle garage, the first two armory guards made their appearance, exiting out a side door from the main garage and cutting down one of the addicts.  The two men took cover behind a nearby stack of wood pallets where they concentrated their fire against the druggy whose fire was all over the place and who had made the poor choice to shoot first and take cover later.  He was quickly gunned down too. 

Another man appeared from the garage and darted over to a parked car beside the warehouse office.  Meanwhile another appeared from the barracks, laying down a hail of gunfire that cut down the unsuspecting druggy who had taken up a position nearby.  Quickly, three of Ava’s addicts were down, and the other three were down to their last two magazines of ammo.  As the armored SUV arrived on the scene, crashing through the main garage’s vehicle entrance, ripping it off its rollers and leaving a gapping hole behind them, Ava and Jake slowed to a stop well away from the action where they could continue to watch the remainder of their plan unfold. 

Another of the trader’s men sprinted from the barracks carrying a big duffle bag while two more joined the fight from the warehouse office.  Ava assumed these two were the trader himself and his personal bodyguard.  They took cover behind a stack of steel barrels while the man with the duffle bag ran for cover and disappeared behind some wood crates nearby.

Ava, watching through binoculars, could see the first man from the barracks drop suddenly and lay motionless on the ground, dead.

“One down,” she said aloud. Several bullets pinged off their SUV’s protective windshield armor but Ava watched unflinchingly, remaining focused on the battle ahead of her.

She saw the Fallback Man on the ground now, having left his position on the rooftop to gather up the remnants of the junkies.  He had just gotten them all together and ready to enter the garage when another was cut down. 

They were down to just two now. 

Ava turned her binoculars, angling them upward so that she could see through the thin slats the armored windshield provided, up to the rooftop of the second garage.  She could just make out the barrel of a rifle protruding from the roof’s ledge.  A flash of light issued from the barrel and she looked back to the battle below to see another of the trader’s men who had been sheltering behind the stack of pallets sprawled upon the pavement.

“Two down,” she said.  She didn’t like not being able to see what was happening inside the main garage, but she had to trust that their men were taking care of business.  She watched as Fallback positioned the two remaining junkies at the main garage entrance so that they could provide covering fire.  He gave each of them several extra magazines of ammo and then darted inside.  Moments later there were rumbles inside the garage as Ava guessed Fallback had likely finished off the remaining defenders with grenades.

Things were looking good.  That’s when Ava noticed the man with the duffle bag.  Another man had joined him now; the one who had previously been taking cover behind the car.  The other man had a heavy machinegun set up and was laying intense fire down upon the main garage.  Bullets ripped into the side of the building and the two remaining druggies went stumbling for cover.  Then he swung the machinegun towards where Jake and Ava’s SUV sat idling.  Ava could see the flashes of light pouring from it, and seconds later, heavy caliber bullets began thudding into the vehicle.  Suddenly the SUV sank at an angle under them.

“Got one of the tires,” Johnny Switchblade said. 

Bullets struck their protective steel plate over the windshield; but this time, they didn’t “ping,” they thudded.  As they hit, they left huge dents in the thick plating, cracking the windshield’s glass behind it.

Ava pulled her head back reflexively from the lookout hole through which had been viewing the battle.

“What the hell do they have?”
Jake cried.  “Johnny, get us the
fuck
out of here!”

They heard bullets thumping into the front of the SUV.  Johnny threw the vehicle into reverse and hit the gas but nothing happened.  Ava peeked out the view slot in front of her.  She could see steam hissing out from under the SUV’s hood.  

“She’d dead,” Johnny called, trying to get the SUV restarted.

“They must have got the engine,” Ava yelled.  “We’re going to have to bail.”

Jake was gathering up their assault rifles from the back seat.  “We’ll go out through the cargo area,” he called.

Ava took another glance through her viewing hole.  Just as she did so, the fire on their position lightened.  At first, she thought that maybe one of their guys had gotten the machine gunner, but what she saw instead horrified her.  The man with the duffle bag was standing straight up now, a tube resting upon his shoulder.  Suddenly there was a flash of light.  Smoke issued from the tube as a projectile, wafting a trail of smoke behind it, sailed through the air headed straight for their SUV.

“ROCKET!”
Ava screamed, ducking down in her seat and covering her head.

Chapter 9

“Let’s go shopping!” Claire said as the group lounged on the general store’s front porch one warm April evening.

No one said anything, and I turned to give her a look as if to say, “What are you
talking
about?”

“I’m serious,” she went on.  “All of us girls should go shopping tomorrow.  I’m dying in these heavier clothes.  We haven’t got anything to wear to keep us cool in the summer and it’s starting to get damn hot here.  I’m not going to wear jeans and sweatshirts when it’s eventually 95 degrees and sunny out.”

“She makes a good point,” said Pam, rubbing her gradually-growing belly gently where her baby bump was now starting to show through her long-sleeved shirt.  “I don’t have anything in terms of maternity clothes, and I’d like to be as comfortable as possible this summer with the heat coming on like it is.”

“It’s actually a
great
idea,” Claire’s mother Emily said after considering it for a moment.  “
I’m
up for it!”

“Me too,” agreed Joanna.  “And Shane needs summer clothes too.”

“We could shop for everyone’s summer wardrobe,” Claire said excitedly.  “We’ll make a day of it at Mary’s resale shop….cocktails before we go, and then shopping.”

“Then, lunch back here prepared and served by the men,” I offered.  “That is, if you all aren’t too busy?” I said, looking around at the rest of the guys.

“
Ooh
,” the girl’s cooed. 

“Sounds delightful,” said Emily.

“I never pass up a free meal that I don’t have to make,” said Pam.

“Then it’s a plan,” said Claire.  “We’ll meet here at say…eleven tomorrow morning?” she asked the other ladies. 

They all agreed that eleven would work. 

And so it was a date. 

Claire’s spur-of-the-moment idea actually ended up being a wonderful time for all involved.  The next day broke bright and beautiful and stayed that way.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the high temperature for the day touched 80 degrees according to the old thermometer nailed to the storefront.

The gals – with exception of Pam – each had pumpkin-spice ale before they left for the resale shop, giving them a nice “shopping buzz” as Emily termed it.  Pam’s beer was set aside for after her pregnancy, giving her something to looking forward to.  Ray said that her share of the booze that he would collect by the time she gave birth would serve as her eventual “push” present. 

After their beers, the girls all headed over to Mary’s, taking young Sarah with them, where they spent almost two hours sorting through the variety of clothing left inside the resale shop. 

As soon as the ladies left, the men got to work.  Ray and I drove the pickup and trailer to a nearby home, bringing back a big picnic table we’d seen behind the house.  We drove it back, unloaded it, and hauled it up onto the store’s front porch.  Then I left Ray with Will and Shane to get the table set and ready.  Paul offered to watch Jason while we worked, and I let him.  They stayed inside the store’s first floor area, zooming around playing tag or pushing toy cars upon chalk-drawn outlines of racetracks on the old wood-plank flooring.

Meanwhile, dad and I worked in the kitchen.  I had laid out our menu the night before and was ready to start work as soon as the girls were gone.  I got the gas grill fired up to cook on and had left water on to boil while we’d gone to pick up the picnic table.  I also got much of my dessert – an apple crisp – ready ahead of time since the apples were already cooked and canned – one of the last vestiges from Wilma’s food stocks brought along from the farm.  I used granola cereal drizzled in honey as my “crisp” topping, and since we didn’t have ice cream or whipped cream, I made a powdered milk and honey glaze and left it in a pitcher from which the gals could drizzle it over their dessert as desired. 

Dad worked on the hors d’oeuvres and appetizer.  The hors d’oeuvres included a mixture of olives, pickles, and little canapé-like items that dad created using potato chips, and toppings formed from the various condiments, spices, olives, and relish we’d found at Mary’s diner.