Fight for Power (35 page)

As awful, as terrible as that sounded, I knew he believed that. Sadly, so did I. I also knew that wanting to kill Herb and doing it were two very different things.

“Do you think your man can do it?” I asked.

“I sent in two men, and there are two more at the front door and two more at the back. Either my men come out or Herb comes out and walks into a bullet. Either way, he's dead.”

I had to get inside Brett's head. “I knew you were afraid of Herb, but I didn't know just how afraid you were.”

The second man looked to Brett for his reaction. There was no change in his expression. Herb would have been proud of
that
.

“We've already killed tonight, although maybe I should add one more to my count.” He turned and faced me directly and trained the gun at my head. “One more word and I shoot you. We can get out even without the Cessna.”

I tried to hide my emotions, control the fear.

“If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already,” I said.

“You still might die. Getting you and the Cessna out isn't going to be easy.” He paused. “Besides, I'd
enjoy
killing you.”

I tried to remain blank, but my whole body shuddered. He saw it and chuckled. He
was
enjoying this.

There was a sound like muffled drumbeats—shots being fired. Four of them, close together. Almost immediately, two men came out of Herb's front door and hurried toward us.

“So much for Herb saving you,” Brett said.

He pushed me forward and I staggered, almost dropping the shoes I was still carrying.

“Well?” Brett asked.

“In his bed, sound asleep. We put four shots into him. He never knew what hit him.”

My head went numb. They were lying, they were wrong. Herb couldn't be dead. That wasn't possible.

“I almost wish it hadn't happened that way,” Brett said. “He deserved to go down fighting, but this was easier. Let's get going.”

There were now seven of them as the others joined from the back of the house. I had that gun tucked in my sock, but I'd lost my chance. There was no way I could do anything except wait for the moment and hope it came.

I found myself in the middle of the pack. Each man had a rifle and a pistol. I knew them all of course. Some I knew from before and had actually liked. I felt sorry for them being dragged into this. Others were no different from Brett. They were cold-blooded killers, and my life meant no more to them than it did to Brett. It didn't matter, though—I had no chance to do anything with this many of them watching me.

“You know the plane won't hold eight people,” I said.

“We're not stupid. Three are going with you in the plane.”

“And the rest?”

“They're going over the wall with me,” he said.

“You're not coming in the plane?”

“I want the plane, but I don't ever want to fly in anything that you're piloting.”

“So you're going to leave three others to do the dangerous part. Do you think the guards are just going to let us push the plane out through the gate?”

“Maybe you're right,” Brett said. “It's too dangerous. We should all just go over the wall.” He gave me a push forward. “Your only value is with the plane. No plane, no value. I might as well kill you now.” He aimed the gun right at my head.

I should have been afraid—terrified—but I wasn't. If I was going to die, at least it was going to be fast and clean. At least my parents would know what had happened to me. I wasn't going to give Brett what he wanted—my fear.

“Now or later, does it really matter?” I asked.

“We're all going to die, so the only thing we can do is try to live a little bit longer. Do you want to live a little bit longer?” he asked.

I nodded ever so slightly.

“So do you think you can convince the guards to let you and my men out?”

“I can convince them.”

“And how are you going to do that?” Brett asked.

“I'll be in the plane with your men, and I'll taxi it forward toward the gate and motion for the guards to open it up for us to pass. Nobody will question anything.”

“Nobody ever questions anything the little prince does, do they?” he said.

“Why do you hate me so much?” I asked.

“Does it bother the little prince that he isn't loved by all his subjects?” Brett said with a sneer.

“It's better if some people don't like you, even hate you. It just means you're doing the right thing.”

“Brave words. I guess we'll see how brave you really are when you don't have your mommy to hide behind.” Brett then pointed at three of the men. “You three are with him in the plane.”

I needed to do something to change the numbers. “It would be better if there were only two with me,” I said.

“Better for who?” Brett asked.

“For everybody. Two people can hide away in the backseat and not be seen. A third would have to be up front. If the guards see one of your faces, do you think they're going to let me out?”

“Sounds more like you want to reduce the odds in your favor a little,” Brett said.

“Do you have such little faith in your men that you figure it takes three guns pointed at me instead of two?”

“Then two it is.” He pointed at two—Owen and Tim. Interestingly, they were the two the committee had talked about being the least involved, the ones who had been more witnesses to the crimes than participants.

Why was Brett giving me to them? Was this his way of seeing if they were trustworthy? Regardless of his reasons, it could work in my favor. They were the ones I knew the best, the ones who were closest to my age.

“I know you two
men
can do the job,” Brett said.

When Brett emphasized that word—
men
—I heard Herb speaking. Brett had indeed learned much from him.

Herb. My heart nearly stopped and for a minute I couldn't breathe.
Was he really gone?
What would happen to the neighborhood without him? I could only hope that I'd live long enough to find out.

“We want him alive, but if there's trouble make sure you put a bullet in his head,” Brett said. “Understand?”

They both nodded obediently.

Suddenly Brett spun around and slapped me, the smack exploding into my head and knocking me off my feet. I sprawled across the ground, shocked. “What the—”

“Just because I'm not going to kill you doesn't mean that I'm going to treat you well. Get to your feet now or I'll put the boots to you as well.”

I gathered up my shoes and stood. There was a look of cruel, cold joy on Brett's face. He had enjoyed slapping me and was looking forward to doing it again—or worse—once he had me where I couldn't be saved. I wasn't going to let that happen. Either I was going to escape or die here trying.

We started moving again, walking through the fields, protected by the crops and the darkness from prying eyes. Everybody would be asleep in the houses, and those on the walls would be looking outward, not into the neighborhood itself. There was nobody who was going to help me get away. Even if a patrol saw us, what chance would they have? They'd be outnumbered, outgunned, and would be reluctant to fire on people they couldn't identify in the dark. Brett wouldn't be restrained by anything.

We came to the top of the field. The shadows of the stores at the mall were right in front of us just across the road. The plane was sitting on the other side of them in the parking lot. I knew there were no guards watching it.

All that was left was to get there, get it started, taxi to the gate, wave to the guards, and then go out on the parkway and take off. Once I started it the noise would attract attention, but there was probably nobody who would be able to get there in time to notice them in the plane or to question me as I taxied out. I wasn't a “little prince,” but people didn't question me or what I was doing. They'd let me taxi out of the neighborhood.

“We're leaving you here,” Brett said to his two men. “We're going to go over the wall. Hopefully we can get away without attracting attention. Give us ten minutes to make our escape. But if you hear gunfire, go right away. That will be the diversion. Use it as your excuse to get into the air—just say you have to catch the bad guys. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” one of them said, and the other nodded.

“Good. I have faith in you. We'll meet at the agreed place, although you'll be there hours before us. See you then.”

Brett led four men away. They quickly disappeared into the darkness.

“Nice, leaving the two of you to do the real dangerous job,” I said.

“He trusts us,” Owen said.

“I'm sure he trusts you, but we all know that you two aren't like him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everybody knows, starting with the committee, that you two were only doing what you were told. You were going to be released by the judge, sort of put on probation. I heard them talking.”

“Really?” the second—Tim—asked.

“Really. I wouldn't lie to you,” I said. Of course that was a lie. I'd heard them talking, but the decision would be made by the judge, the jury, and the committee—and there'd been no guarantees.

“You don't have to do this,” I said. “Neither of you. You have a choice.”

“We have no choice,” Owen said.

“Of course you do. He's taken off to save his own skin. You can just give me your guns, turn yourselves in, and we'll work this out. You'll be let free, welcomed back into the neighborhood.”

“It's too late,” Owen said.

“It's not too late. We can do it right now.” I held out my hand. “Just give me the guns.”

“We escaped.”

“And you can turn yourselves in, right now. You can explain how Brett made you do it. I'll testify in your favor, tell people, my mother, the judge, everybody, that you did the right thing.”

“You don't understand,” Tim said. “Five of the guards who were watching us, they're … they're dead.”

“Brett killed them?”

“Not him,” Owen said, his voice barely a whisper. “Each of us killed one of them.”

“But we didn't have a choice,” Tim exclaimed. His voice was very loud. “Brett gave us the guns and told us we had to do it, that we had to shoot them.”

“You just murdered them?” I said.

“We didn't want to,” Owen added. There was a catch in his voice like he was on the verge of crying. “It was different from out there. We got to know the guards—we even knew a couple of them from before.”

“And still you shot them.”

“Brett ordered us to,” Tim said.

“He might have shot us instead,” Owen said. “Brett doesn't tolerate people not listening to him.”

“We had to do it,” Tim pleaded. “It was them or us. He made us kill the five guards.”

I could hardly believe what they were saying. They'd killed the five guards—but wait. “You said five, but weren't there six guards on duty?”

“One of them is still there,” Tim said. “He's tied up. Brett let us pick one to live. He said it was too risky to tie them all up.”

“Why would it be risky to tie up one and not all six?” I asked.

“Brett said it. I don't know.”

They were too brainwashed or too afraid to even question him. I was scared but not too scared to think. I thought I knew why he had left one alive. “Did the guard who was tied up see the others being killed?”

“Yes,” Owen said. “He was there, watching the whole thing, waiting for his turn, but it didn't come.”

“Brett even put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger, but there was no bullet in the chamber,” Tim said. “The man wet himself.”

“And Brett probably laughed,” I said.

“He told us he let him live so that everybody would know that we had done the killing,” Owen said.

“So there was no way back,” Tim said.

“And he's right,” Owen said. “We can't come back here. Ever.”

“He set you up, just like he's setting you up right now to do the most dangerous part. He's manipulating you, and you're letting him get away with it,” I said.

“I know,” Tim said. “And that's why there's no choice anymore.”

“There's always a choice.”

“We can't stay.”

“Yes you can, I'll explain it all. People will understand.”

“No they won't. How can they let us get away with killing those men? How can we face their families?” Tim asked.

“Then you could just take off. Don't meet Brett at the rendezvous,” I said. “Go out over the fence.”

“How would we live out there?” Owen said. “The two of us wouldn't be able to survive. We need his help, the help of the whole squad.”

“Besides,” Tim said, “if we didn't show up, he'd come looking for us. You have no idea what he's capable of doing.”

“I've heard the reports.”

“No, you only know a little bit of it. If you knew the whole truth you'd be— Well, we know the whole truth. We've seen it with our own eyes. It's better to be dead than have Brett come after you.”

“We have no choice.” Tim pushed the gun against my chest. “We have to go … Now!”

 

37

Quietly we padded across the open roadway. It was empty, dark, and deserted. If anybody did see us, they didn't act or react, but why should they? Nobody was looking for danger from within. We filed down the narrow passage between two of the stores.

The parking lot was filled with cars, many with their tires and windows removed. The windows were being used in the makeshift greenhouses. Most of the cars still had a tankful of gas, stored until it was needed. In a clearing right by the Baskin-Robbins sat the Cessna. Beyond that was the wall, manned by unseen guards. Even if they did look back this way they wouldn't have been able to make us out as we darted between the cars, staying low.