Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) (16 page)

The two-inch metal pipe rail on the front porch exposed even more junk and trash. The screen door was propped open by a light-blue milk crate loaded with empty beer bottles. The screen of the door was torn and rusty, its frame warped and hanging at an odd angle in contrast to the closed front door.

Countless other beer bottles and aluminum cans littered the front steps and lay in the small patches of dead grass to either side of the entry. The place reminded John of some dirty and irresponsible college frat house.

When Pete drove onto the circular gravel driveway near the front of the house, Marcus pointed and laughed. John looked and saw he was pointing to an old toilet that was sitting in the middle of an elevated circle of dead grass. The circle itself was surrounded by old, dirt-filled tires. The remnants of long dead shrubs lingered in some of the tires, and all that remained was a collection of dried sticks and branches poking up from the center of the tires like quills on an old porcupine.

For John, there was nothing funny about the toilet as yard art. In fact, he thought it was a little strange, or at least quirky. Like the tires that formed the raised circle, the toilet also held dirt and dead shrubs or flowers. People who used toilets as yard art planters had, in his opinion, a few screws loose. But he had seen stranger things in nicer places, so he pushed the thought aside and focused on collecting more details.

Pete drove the circle in a counterclockwise manner, which gave John a front row seat as the van rounded the yard. A large gray barn stood off to the side, its two heavy, sliding doors faced the circle, and they were secured with a length of thick, yellow nylon rope. For some reason, the yellow nylon rope looked strangely out of place with the environment, so John filed it away with his other observations.

When the van passed the barn, John saw three cars parked along the side under a short overhang. The closest was a tan, late model, Ford Taurus wagon. The other two cars were small, four-door, foreign models; both of which looked much younger than their Chevy counterpart. They were also lowered, and equipped with body add-ons. To John, they looked tweaked for street racing, as each sported more than a dozen after-market equipment upgrade stickers. He didn’t know or care if the cars were fast, but he knew they didn’t fit in with the farm.

Pete also saw the cars and gave John a knowing nod when he pulled the van to a stop in front of the farm house. The cars confirmed to them both that someone was home, so John jumped from the van and took up a covered position by the steps as Pete silently positioned the boys around the property.

The three young men ran off silently, and like seasoned soldiers, they took up good covered and concealed positions to cover John and Pete’s entry of the house. Once again, John couldn’t help but be impressed with how Pete prepared the boys for the mission.

A moment later, Pete stepped around the van and approached John with his rifle at the low ready. John’s rifle was strapped to his back. When it came to room clearing, John preferred his pistol. It’s what he practiced with and used in his shooting competitions, and Pete knew it,
so his friend didn’t say a word as John moved up to the front door and assumed the right entry position.

They listened quietly for any signs of life, and after hearing nothing Pete signaled John to try the door handle. With his left hand, John reached out and tried the handle. It turned freely in his grip, so he opened the door and pushed it in just enough to allow Pete to see and hear inside. With John standing clear of the doorway, Pete could see into the home’s short entryway. He listened for a moment, touched a finger to his ear, and then held up three fingers. He had just signaled John that there were at least three different voices coming from inside the house. But both men knew, with three cars on the property, that there could be as many as twelve people in the house.

From his side of the doorway, Pete extended an arm and pushed the door completely open. He waited for several seconds, and when there was no apparent sign that anyone in the house knew the front door was open, Pete entered tactically by carefully segmenting the entry with his eyes down the sights of his weapon. Once he visually cleared the home’s shallow entry, he stepped in. John followed close behind, ready to engage any hostile threat that might appear in his sector of responsibility.

Pete glanced first ahead, and then to the right. Seeing no apparent threat in the kitchen or the living room, he turned his attention to the hall, and the source of the voices. John heard at least two male and one female voice, and by the sound of them they were either drunk or stoned.

Pete signaled for John to clear the living room and kitchen while he covered the hall, and John moved quickly away with silent footsteps, walking toe to heel while scanning the rooms. With an all-clear nod, he returned to the hall and signaled “ready” by squeezing Pete’s shoulder. As soon as Pete received the squeeze, he led John quietly down the hall in a standard two-man stack. Pete cleared the hall bathroom on the right, and the small bedroom across from it, and finding no threats he paused to communicate with John.

It was now obvious to both men that the voices were coming from the last bedroom on the right. But the bedroom on the left still had to
be cleared, so Pete signaled John to clear the left room while he would simultaneously clear the right. Country music played loudly in the background, but it was muted compared to the talking and laughter that was coming through the door.

Pete turned to John and made the universal sign of smoking. John shrugged and made a facial expression that communicated, “Obviously,” and Pete shrugged in reply. The pungent reek of burning weed was strong in the hall, but John picked it up when they first entered the house. He remembered that his nose was much sharper than Pete’s, whereas Pete had the better hearing. The two made for an interesting hunting partnership, as long as they stayed together.

They didn’t know what kind of party was going on behind closed doors, but both men were able to paint a pretty vivid mental picture based on the noise and smell coming from the room.

The most important aspect of the entry would be to quickly control the environment, and John hoped Pete was up to the task. Even one stoned partier could be trouble to control, but three would require a master’s touch. John lip synched, “Are you sure?”

Pete’s reply was equally silent and to the point, “Yes. I got it.”

John nodded an okay and positioned himself for entry into the quiet room. After each man quietly tested their respective door handles, Pete initiated a silent three-count and they slipped quickly into the rooms. As he suspected, John found his room occupied. Two twenty-something adults, a boy and a girl, were sleeping on the bed, wrapped tight in each other’s arms.

The woman was the first to notice John’s presence, and before she could shriek in surprise, John held a single finger to his lips and hushed her. Amazingly, she obeyed his command and instead nudged her still sleeping male bedmate. When the man opened his eyes and turned to look at John, armed with a pistol that was pointed directly at him, he rolled to the floor. John moved to cover his roll, and thinking the boy was reaching for a weapon, he said, “Freeze, or I’ll shoot.”

The young man obeyed and stood with arms raised high above his head. John saw more than he wanted to see, and realized the young man was only reaching for his pants. “Back in bed, lover boy!” snapped John, all the while listening if Pete needed any help.

The man complied, and slid back under the sheets next to the woman. He moved close to her as if seeking reassurance from her contact. She leaned against him and pulled the sheet up to her chin as she scooched back to sit up against the bedroom wall. “What do you want with us?” asked the woman as she hesitantly tested the limits of allowed communications with John.

“Quiet. Do what you’re told and you won’t get hurt,” answered John.

John didn’t hear anything from Pete, so he backed up to the door to appraise his success in the other room. It was immediately obvious that Pete had everything under control, for John heard the telltale sound of zip-ties being applied as restraints.

“Two here . . . a man and a woman,” yelled John.

“Roger that,” replied Pete. “Three here . . . two men and one woman.”

“Acknowledged,” replied John. “Disposition?”

“Cuffing now. Soon to question,” replied Pete.

“Are you guys’ cops . . . or something?” asked the woman in John’s room.

“Or something,” replied John. “Did I say you could talk?”

From the other room, Pete yelled, “Do you need any zip-ties?”

“I’m good,” answered John, as he holstered his pistol. He removed four long plastic strips of black plastic from his cargo pocket and began looping them together for wrist restraints.

“Do you guys want to get dressed before I cuff you?” asked John.

They both nodded affirmative. John allowed the man to dress first, and then he had him lay on the floor to be cuffed. The woman was next, and though she didn’t seem the least bit concerned about John seeing her naked, he looked discreetly away out of respect. He was never much of a voyeur, and rarely ever watched Jenna dress, but he knew better than
to trust anyone, especially when it came to apprehension, so he stayed alert and watched her out of the corner of his eye.

Then he sneezed, once, very loudly. The girl shrieked in the process of pulling on her top, and fell to the bed. John stifled a laugh, and looked over to give Pete a thumb’s up from across the hall. With the door to the party room open, the reek of still burning marijuana was more than his nose cared to handle. And if he didn’t know better, he’d swear he was feeling the side effects of a contact buzz from all the smoke. He wondered how Pete was holding up and yelled, “You alright over there?”

“I’m fine . . . questioning now,” replied Pete with an edge.

John realized he was annoying his friend and decided to focus on his own captives. Once restraints were applied to the woman, he quickly inspected the room for weapons and intelligence. It was obvious to John that the home wasn’t theirs. From the décor and pictures, it looked like it belonged to an elderly couple.

John wondered where they were, the owners of the property, and suspected the partiers knew something about their whereabouts. His first question was to the man, “Where are the owners of this house?”

“I don’t know, man. Jessy invited us here. I don’t know nothing,” said the man.

“Who’s Jessy?” asked John.

“I am!” snapped the woman lying face down on the bed.

John rolled her over and looked her in the eye. “Are you related to the owners? It doesn’t look like you live here,” snapped John.

“It’s none of your business, ass . . .”

“Stop!” John interrupted. “There’s no need for cursing,” finished John.

“Are you for real?” she quipped.

“Want me to shoot you for verification?” replied John. And when the girl grew quiet he said, “Good. Now let’s try again . . . who are you and what are you doing here?”

“My parents lived here,” she snapped. Though less caustically, her voice still toned of venom.

“Lived? Where are they now?”

“I don’t know!” she snapped again.

John rolled the young woman back onto her stomach, and then went to talk with Pete. He was having no better success with the questioning of the three stoned partiers. They were about as helpful as kindergartners, and the way they giggled at John when he stepped into the room told him all he needed to know about Pete’s success.

“Did you learn anything from your two?” asked Pete.

“The woman in my room claims her parents live . . . no, make that
lived
here,” offered John.

Pete grunted and said, “I guess we have to look around. But I have a feeling these guys are responsible for the owners’ fate.”

“You may be right,” said John. “I’ll go have a look around. Can you handle these guys?”

“I can. I think I’ll question yours. Hostile or cooperative?”

“Both, I think,” answered John. “I’ll have a quick look around and be back ASAP.”

John didn’t know if Pete was right, but it wouldn’t surprise him if the partiers were responsible for the home owners. The past week was filled with many examples of people’s brutally selfish behavior during a disaster. He had yet to meet any strangers that put others above themselves, and he wondered if such people even existed.

If the partiers turned out to be murderers, then John would willingly mete out the appropriate degree of justice, but these kids weren’t the bikers. The bikers attacked him and his family. These kids were just living it up. If anything, John and his company were the aggressors. Still, they were involved with the kids whether they liked it or not, and all they could do was follow through.

When he stepped outside, John radioed Jenna to pull in with the other vehicles, and then he called Adam and the boys to join him at the
house. The first order of business, now that the property was secured, was to search the place for anyone else, be they dead or alive.

Pete moved his prisoners into the room with John’s, and began questioning them while John went to search the property for answers. He was aware of how group questioning could change the credibility and usefulness of the information he collected, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to spend all night talking to the kids. Besides, he figured he could control the questioning well enough to get the information he was looking for. He pointed to the girl John identified as Jessy and asked, “You say your parents live here?”