Broken Lives: A Tale of Survival in a Powerless World (Broken Lines Book 4) (22 page)

***

Cain was on the second floor of the factory. He watched everything from the large window in the office upstairs.

He was disappointed. He thought Beth would have survived longer than she did.

“What a waste,” he said to himself.

He could see Bram down with the rest of his soldiers, scrambling to keep the factory, but it was a losing battle. Once the rebels had the explosives in place it wouldn’t matter.

Cain slammed a magazine into his pistol and racked one into the chamber. He picked up a file on the desk.

When he opened it there was a picture of Anne. Cain smiled and tucked it into his pocket. He picked up a rifle from the desk as well. He peered through the scope and looked down the street.

He saw a large man, dressed in civilian clothes, holding a rifle. He wasn’t shooting anyone, but Cain thought he recognized the face.

He grabbed another folder from the stack of files he found and flipped through the pages. He looked through the scope again and watched Sam turn around and head back to where he came from.

“Now, where are you heading off to in such a hurry?”

***

Sam watched Mike carry Kalen to the factory, and the fighters from across the river seemed to have Bram’s soldiers pinned down. Sam knew that the objective was to get rid of the factory, so he figured it would just be a matter of time.

So much loss. So much death for one family. He wasn’t sure how much more Mike and Anne could take. Everything around them was falling apart.

Right now though, the best thing he could do was to get back to Anne. If he could keep her safe, then maybe there would be some chance of normalcy for her and Mike.

He knew what happened to a person who lost the things they held so close to their heart. A part of them died. It got lost forever in a sea of despair, the waves constantly tossing and turning the small raft that was barely keeping them alive.

Sam knew Mike and Anne’s raft was barely strung together. And there were more waves coming their way.

***

Anne still hadn’t moved. She just sat there on the floor, in the middle of the pile of blood, holding her son.

“My baby,” she whispered.

There was a documentary on television she had watched earlier that year. It was about mothers from different countries who had lost their children at a young age.

All of them were crying hysterically, clutching their dead children in their arms, not wanting to let them go.

Some of the women had gone mad, completely losing their minds and the will to live. The burden of losing a child had ended marriages and ripped families apart. It was a void that could never be filled, no matter what someone tried stuffing inside it.

She remembered wondering how she would react if that ever happened to her. Would she lose her mind? Would it end her marriage?

Anne couldn’t fathom what losing one of her children would do to her. Now, what every parent fears more than anything had happened to her.

All she felt was empty. Everything about her son that she loved looped constantly in her mind. But the images of him laughing, playing, sleeping, only added to her pain. It hurt because she knew there would never be any new memories to draw from. There was no more hope, no more chance of what could be.

When Sam came back she just stared at him. She watched his lips move, but couldn’t hear what he was saying.

Anne remained speechless when she watched a man with cold blue eyes walk up behind Sam and knock him out.

Cain dragged Sam out of the doorway entrance and looked down at Anne, who was still rocking her dead son in her arms.

“Hello, Mrs. Grant,” Cain said.

***

Bram was on his heels. The soldiers around him were starting to shrink. Everything was closing in on him and there wasn’t a way out.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. He was going to rewrite the country’s future. He was going to bring people into a new era of ideals. Now, with every bullet that flew into one of his soldiers that hit the ground, so did those aspirations.

With the fight going the way it was, he was shocked when Cain turned up with a woman covered in blood.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bram demanded.

“Finding you a bargaining chip. Say hello to Anne Grant. Wife of Mike Grant, who is in your warehouse right now getting ready to blow it up,” Cain said.

“What?”

Bram looked the woman over. She looked nothing like the photo he saw earlier that day. Her eyes were empty. Her face was grave. She looked as if she was already dead.

It was Bram’s last play. If this didn’t work he knew it was over.

“Cease fire!” Bram yelled.

The men around him echoed his orders. A few moments later the firing stopped and Bram could hear similar shouts from the rebels.

“Get me a bullhorn,” Bram said.

***

“The explosives are set, sir.”

“All right. We’re all set here. Let’s get the hell out of Dodge,” the lieutenant said.

Mike stared at Kalen’s face on the stretcher they set her on. At that moment he wasn’t in Cincinnati, in the middle of a war, standing in a factory with soldiers and missiles.

Right now he was back in Pittsburgh. He was just getting ready for work, making his rounds to everyone’s room. He was opening Kalen’s door to give her a kiss on the forehead before he left for the day, taking a moment to watch her sleep. She always looked like her mom when she slept. It was so peaceful.

But when the lieutenant grabbed his shoulder and spun him around that moment was gone. He wasn’t in Pittsburgh. He wasn’t watching his daughter sleep. He
was
in the middle of a war.

“Mike Grant.”

Mike recognized Bram’s voice, and when he looked outside through the scope of his gun he could see his wife standing right next to him.

***

The lieutenant gave Mike a rundown of the situation. Bram would trade her life for his factory.

“Take the goddamn chargers down,” Mike said.

“Mike, it’s not that simple.”

“Take them down!”

“If you talk to him and buy us some time, then I can position some of my snipers to take him out.”

“They better have good aim.”

Bram had himself surrounded by his men. When Mike got close Bram told his men to make a small opening so Mike could see him.

Anne was stained with blood, and Mike had no idea whether or not the blood was hers.
“Anne, honey, are you okay?” Mike asked.

“She’ll be fine when my men finish a clean sweep of the factory and the rest of the rebel bastards that are here have gone back over the river,” Bram said.

“Let her go, Bram,” Mike said. “If you want a bargaining chip, then use me. I’m the one who led them here. I know where you can find Wyatt.”

“And where is our mutual friend?” Bram asked. “Still having others do his dirty work for him? Wyatt always had a problem with the execution.”

Mike didn’t know how much time the lieutenant’s men needed.

“I’m going to give you till the count of ten, Mike. If my factory isn’t cleared out and the rest of the rebels aren’t hightailing it out of here, then your wife dies.”

Cain handed Bram his knife and he put it to Anne’s throat. She didn’t move. She didn’t scream. The only noticeable change was the tears streaming down her face.

“One,” Bram said.

“Bram, look around. It’s over,” Mike said.

“Two.”

There had been plenty of time to take the shot by now. Mike didn’t know what the lieutenant was waiting for.

“Three.”

“Let her go, Bram.”

Mike’s hand reached for his gun, but he didn’t grab it. He was afraid if he tried to make a move then Bram would too. The knife was too close to Anne’s throat.

“Four.”

What is he waiting for?

“Five.”

Mike looked over to the lieutenant’s men, still aiming their guns at Bram’s soldiers. Nobody was moving.

“Six.”

“Lieutenant, tell your men to back down. Tell them to do it now!” Mike said.

“Seven.”

Mike rushed up to one of the lieutenant’s soldiers. Mike pulled out his own gun and put it to the soldier’s head.

“Clear the factory now!” Mike screamed.

“Eight.”

Mike looked back to Anne. His body was churning with grief and rage. He couldn’t watch another one of his girls die.

“I will kill this man if you don’t get the hell out. Do you hear me, lieutenant?” Mike yelled.

“Nine.”

Mike squeezed the grip of his gun hard. Either his fingers would break, or the rifle’s handle would.

Bram’s mouth looked as though it was about to form the word “ten” when a bullet split the side of Cain’s head open. The moment that happened Bram slid the blade of his knife across Anne’s throat and she fell to the ground.

Mike aimed his gun at Bram and squeezed the trigger. He pulled it repeatedly. He couldn’t tell how many of his shots got off, because once the first bullet went into Bram’s body every other soldier with a weapon fired.

Once Mike could hear the click of the firing pin signaling that his magazine was empty, he felt the pieces of lead tear through him.

The hot bullets flew into his chest, sending him backwards and hurling him to the ground.

***

When Mike woke up he felt as if a car was sitting on top of his chest. His vision was blurry as he looked around. There were tubes stuck into his arm, and it was difficult to breathe.

He was dressed in a hospital gown and when he tried to move a sharp pain shot through his entire body.

He could hear a beeping somewhere next to him. It was growing louder. A woman came in and pressed a few buttons on the machine next to his bed.

“Where am I?” Mike asked.

“Take it easy, Mr. Grant.”

She pressed her hand on his shoulder. Mike started to feel dizzy.

“I need to see my son,” Mike said.

“You need to rest.”

The nurse plugged another needle into his arm. He started to feel sleepy again.

“No, I need… to… see…”

***

When Mike woke up again his chest still hurt, but he was propped up in the bed. The first face he saw when he opened his eyes was Dr. Wyatt.

“Hello, Mike,” Wyatt said. “You’ve been out cold for a few days now. It’s good to see you awake.”

Mike tried to remember the events before the hospital. How he got there. Where his family was. Slowly, everything came back to him.

“Where is Freddy?” Mike asked.

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Wyatt asked.

Wyatt kept dodging the question. Mike could feel panic rush over him. There wasn’t any anger left. It was just fear. Fear and grief. He started crying.

“Where’s my son?” Mike asked, tears pouring down his face.

Dr. Wyatt rose from his seat slowly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver pocket watch that Mike had given his son.

When Dr. Wyatt placed it in Mike’s hand the scream that came out of him was so primal, so harrowing that it caused three hospital staff members to rush into his room.

Mike thrashed on the bed. His chest felt as if it was going to rip apart, but he didn’t care. He’d lost everything. There wasn’t any type of pain left in the world that could hurt him.