Outage (Powerless Nation #1) (12 page)

“Who's there?” asked Sammy. He'd awakened after a long and much-needed nap, and rubbed at his eyes.

“Can you keep a secret, Sammy?” she asked. “Hyrum and I are going to go get a surprise for you, but only if you stay here in the truck and be extra quiet.”

Sammy practically bounced with excitement and Dee wondered if she'd used the wrong approach.

“Is the surprise candy?” he asked.

“No, it's ...”

“Is it a toy?”

“No...”

“Is it a...”
 

“Sammy,” Dee interrupted in a firm tone. “I'm not going to tell you or it won't be a surprise. But it might take us a while and you have to promise to stay right here in the truck, okay?”

“Okay,” Sammy nodded. He sat still on the seat but his little body was tense and sometimes his legs kicked out excitedly.

Hyrum shook his head. “Now he's all worked up.”

“He'll stay here, won't you Sammy?” Dee said, eyeing the little boy doubtfully.

“I won't move a stitch,” Sammy crossed his arms over his chest and froze in place.

“All right, all right,” said Hyrum, smothering a laugh.

Hyrum and Dee watched the church from their vantage point, hidden in the shadows of a fence across the street. The grounds were still and eerie, bathed in silver light from the nearly full moon. The church itself was less mystical – a blocky, beige building hunkered down next to a large parking lot. On one side of the covered entrance to the church was a circular area landscaped with trampled marigolds, gravel and three crosses in a row, stretching up at least twenty feet high.

Dee thought the attempt at religious decoration rather unfortunate. The crosses were tilted and obviously old with peeling white paint that was chipped in places. Mason was still there and he looked as thin and tired as the crosses did. Dee wanted to tell him to hold on, they were coming for him.

Two guards sat near the entrance of the church on folding chairs with a small table between them, engrossed in a game of cards in the light of a small lantern. Hyrum held out his hand, motioning for Dee to hand him the bolt cutters. He whispered that he thought the guards were distracted already, and he would try to set Mason free on his own. If they spotted him, he'd drop the bolt cutters and run, drawing them away from their post.

Dee's heart skipped in her chest. They were really going to do this. She watched as Hyrum slipped across the street and through the parking lot. Abandoned cars provided some cover, but in the bright moonlight Hyrum was more exposed than not. Mason suddenly stood up straight and Dee knew he'd spotted Hyrum's approach. He was about thirty feet away from the crosses and easing his way carefully across the last section of the parking lot.

Later, none of them could say what made the guards look up from their game of cards. They saw Hyrum instantly. The first one jumped to his feet and headed for Hyrum while the second spoke into his radio. Hyrum waited, and though Dee willed him to run she knew he had to lure both guards away. When the first guard was almost close enough to touch, Hyrum sprinted straight toward him and veered, heading for the second guard.

He's trying to make them mad
, thought Dee when he tipped over the card table before jogging across the church grounds. The guards were slow on their feet and Dee guessed they hadn't been eating as well as Hyrum. Nor were they running for their lives.

Even as Hyrum knocked over the table, Dee made her way quickly across the street and into the parking lot. She didn't know how long he'd be able to keep the guards busy; she had to be fast. The bolt cutters were on the ground where Hyrum had dropped them. Dee picked them up and covered the short distance to Mason.

“What's wrong with you?” he hissed. “Get out of here, they'll be back any minute.”

Dee ignored him. She had a bigger problem – the bolt cutters wouldn't open.

“Are you kidding?” she groaned as she tried to pull the handles apart.

“What's wrong?” Mason said, trying to peer over his shoulder at her.
 

“It's these... stupid...”

“Are you sure the latch is off?”

Dee held the tool out of her shadow and saw the plastic latch. She slid it open and tried again, but the cutters still wouldn't budge.

“It's off,” Dee grunted. “I think they're rusted or something.”

“Never mind,” Mason said, scanning the area anxiously. “Leave 'em and get out of here. I'll be fine.”

Dee braced one of the handles under her tennis shoe and gave short, fierce pulls on the other handle. “Not... going... to leave you,” she finished in triumph as the bolt cutters snapped open. She positioned the blades around the chain that secured Mason to the cross. It looked like it came from a child's swing set.

“Hold still,” she barked at Mason, who was trying to keep his wrists out of the way of the blades. It was awkward, and she didn't think she had enough hand strength to make the cut.

“I've got an idea, just hang on,” said Dee. She put one handle of the tool against the cross between Mason's hands, and put her foot up on the other handle. “Come… on!” she pushed with all her strength. The bolt cutter snapped shut and the chain fell to the ground.

“Let's go,” she grabbed Mason's hand to lead him away but he was frozen in place.

Dee looked up and saw three men with guns trained on them.

She raised her hands but wasn't ready to give up, “You have the wrong guy. Mason didn't steal that food.”

“That's not what we heard, little lady,” drawled one of the men. He was lean, well muscled, and wore tight Wranglers and a belt with a huge buckle. It didn't look like he'd missed any meals lately.

Mason was shushing her and shaking his head, but Dee wasn't finished.

“His step-dad stole it from him and he was just taking it back.”

“Is that right, now?” A man with a plaid shirt and cowboy hat chuckled. “That's not what his step-dad says.”

“Come on, guys. Let her go. She doesn't know anything. I took the food – you got me. Just let her go.”

“'Fraid not,” said the man with the belt buckle. He pulled out some rope and tied Dee and Mason to two of the crosses. “We're just gonna wait here for the sheriff.”

“I thought he wasn't coming back 'til morning.” said Mason.

The man lit a cigarette and took a drag. “Said he didn't want to miss the fun.”

A few minutes later they heard a car engine approaching and then a cop car pulled up in front of the church. Dee went over what she was going to say to him. Once he heard how Mason's step-dad had mistreated his family, he'd at least have to give Mason the benefit of the doubt and a stay of execution.

A bulky form in an officer's uniform got out of the car and pulled someone out of the backseat. Dee's heart sank. It was Hyrum. How had they caught him? Their rescue attempt was a big, fat failure. The officer led Hyrum to the crosses and gave orders for him to be tied up as well. Then he faced the three captives. Dee could see the word 'Sheriff' stitched on his uniform and knew it was now or never. She opened her mouth to make her case for Mason's release, just as Mason spoke.

“Nice of you to stop by, Hank.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

D
EE
'
S
MIND
REELED
AS
she tried to make sense of it all. Mason's step-dad, Hank, was the sheriff? She wondered if that meant the whole police force was corrupt. Probably.

They were in serious trouble.

“I didn't know you had a girlfriend, boy. She any good?” Hank moved to stand in front of Dee and caress her cheek.

At Hank's taunt, Mason strained against his bonds. “You leave her out of this,” he shouted. “This is between you and me.”

Dee yanked her face away from Hank and spat at him.

Hank wiped the spit from his face and leaned closer, his foul breath hot on her face. “I like your spirit. Ask Mason how much I enjoy a challenge.” Then, before she knew what was happening, he slapped her hard across the cheek.

It took Dee a moment to realize what had happened, but when she did she was furious. No one had ever hit her before. Her cheek stung like crazy and it felt like her heart was beating in her face. She glared at Hank so intently she didn't even see the next blow coming. This one was harder, and snapped her head to the side.

“She has spirit, I'll give you that,” Hank said to Mason before turning to Hyrum. “Who's your other friend here?” He felt Hyrum's bicep, “Unless I miss my guess, you've got some food put away somewhere.”

Hyrum tensed at the touch but said in an even tone, “I can get food for you too if you let us all go.”

“Oh, you'll get food for me, all right. After that I might let you go. Just you – not Mason, and not the girl. Mason and I have an appointment in a few hours I know he's looking forward to.” He held his hand up like a pistol and pointed it at Mason. “Bam.” Then he turned back to Dee. “As for this tasty morsel, I've got something in mind for her too. Something real nice.”

Dee shuddered at the sick innuendo in his tone and Hyrum said quickly, “Her for me. Let her go and keep me. I'm a hard worker; I'll run your errands and track down food and water for you. Guns too,” he added quickly.

“How do I know you'll stick around?” said Hank.

“You have my word,” said Hyrum, standing up straight.

“I'll think it over,” said Hank, looking Hyrum up and down. “I can always use a good man. Of course,” he continued, “by then I'll be done with the girl anyway.” His twisted laughter rang out across the parking lot.

He turned back to Mason. “You wanna tell her what she has to look forward to? What I done to your ma?”

Mason's voice was cold and hard, “If you touch her, I swear I'll kill you.”

“And how do you think you’re gonna do that, eh? You'll be dead in a few hours, just like your mom.” Dee looked horrified at Mason. The color drained from his face and his legs bent like he might collapse. “You're lying,” he said in a weak voice.

“You know I'm not, boy. Look at my face. Tell me, am I lying?” His eyes glittered. “That's right, your mom's dead, and so's your little bastard brother.”
 

Mason made a sound that started low in his throat and ripped out of him like a howl. It was pure pain.

Dee tried to think clearly – could Hank have found Sammy or was he lying to mess with Mason? She fought to keep from turning to look towards the truck. It was supposed to be parked out of sight around the corner and down the street. Dee prayed.
Please God, let that little boy be safe. No matter what happens to us, please look out for him.

Just then, the man with the belt buckle walked up to Hank and said something quietly in his ear. “You sure, Mitchell?” said Hank.
 

The man nodded. “Call just came in over the CB.”

Hank turned toward the three teenagers. “I want you to think about what we talked about. I've gotta go for a while, but I'll be back soon and we can pick up where we left off.” He gave Dee a meaningful look. “I'll be looking forward to it.”

He jerked his head at the man in the plaid shirt and two other men. “Let's go. Mitchell can stay here and keep an eye on things, right?”

Mitchell nodded. “No problem, boss.”

“See you kids in a few hours,” said Hank, and then he was gone.

Dee slid down the base of the cross until she was sitting cross-legged on the ground. She didn't think her legs would hold her any more. She was tired and angry and confused, and she just wanted to leave.

Mason had his head turned away from them and his shoulders shook. Dee wanted to tell him his brother was fine, but she didn't know for sure. If Hank had found the truck wouldn't he have mentioned it? But, thought Dee, Hank wasn't sane. There was no telling what he'd do.

Hyrum worked his way around his cross until he was facing them and glanced over at the guard. “We've got to get out of here,” he said in a low voice.

“No kidding,” said Dee. “Got any suggestions?”

“Can you feel any sharp rocks or anything you could use to cut through the rope?” he asked.

Dee felt around, but the gravel she was sitting in was made of tiny smooth pebbles. “Nothing here,” she said.

“I'm going to see if I can lean on my cross and push it over.” Dee saw Hyrum's muscles strain and his face turn red but the cross didn't move. It was old, but solid.

“It's no use,” he said, panting softly and sliding down to sit on the ground like Dee.

“There's no point,” Mason said, his voice flat. “Hank is pure evil. Learn from my mistakes. Just give him what he wants and then get as far from him as you can. You can't beat him.”

“You're wrong, Mason,” said Hyrum with conviction. “We can beat him. You've just got to have faith.”

“Yeah right,” said Mason bitterly. “Is faith going to stop a bullet to my brain in a few hours? Is faith going to feed the starving people in this town being terrorized by my step-dad?” His voice was rising, “Is faith going to bring back my mom and brother?”

“Shut your traps over there,” said Mitchell. He had the CB up to his ear and was listening intently.

“Do you guys want to say a prayer with me?” asked Hyrum. Mason snorted and turned his head away but Dee kept her eyes fixed on Hyrum. He sounded so calm and so sure and she wanted to believe. She wanted to believe they could get away from here. She wanted to believe Sammy was alive. She wanted to believe she'd see her parents again.

Hyrum bowed his head and prayed so softly Dee could barely catch the words. He prayed that they would have faith and that if it was God’s will for them to escape they would know what to do.

Dee watched Hyrum. His eyes were closed so he didn't see when Mitchell stood up and approached, CB in hand. “I'm stepping away for five minutes so don't go nowhere,” he smirked. Then he turned and walked quickly away across the parking lot.

“And now we're supposed to believe he left because of your prayer, right?” Mason's tone was bitter and hard. He didn't seem anything like the guy Dee had picked up in the truck a few weeks ago. She wondered what he'd been through since she'd last seen him. He went on, “Lucky coincidence, that's all. And a coincidence isn't going to cut these ropes off.”