Outage (Powerless Nation #1) (19 page)

Dee heard a stifled scream, a thud, and then panicked voices – this was it. Grandpa went first, shotgun in hand. With shaking hands she struggled to light the lamp. The door was really close to the pantry and once she turned up the lamp she had a perfect view of the scene in front of her.

A man was on his knees in front of the pantry, grasping the arms of another man whose legs and lower torso dangled into the hole in the floor. From below, she heard muffled moans of pain, and then the man who was halfway through the hole yelled, “Get me out of here!”

“Hold it right there,” said Grandpa in a loud voice, his shotgun lowered and pointing directly at them. “Hands where I can see 'em.”

The man on his knees slowly turned and when he saw the barrel of the shotgun aimed at him he put his hands up. “I'm slipping, don't let go!” the man in the hole shouted, until he too caught sight of the gun.

The man in the kitchen twitched, as if thinking about going for a weapon, but he froze when he heard Mason's voice behind him, “I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

The men's heads swiveled around and they caught sight of Hyrum and Mason. Mason said, “I'm going to make sure the patio and backyard are clear.”

Grandpa nodded in his direction without taking his eyes off the thieves. “Listen up. When I tell you, you're going to slowly take out your weapons, put them on the ground and push them this way. If there's any monkey business I'll tell you right now that I would dearly love an excuse to fill you clean full of shot. Go on,” he said. “Nice and slow.”
 

Dee heard the sound of feet on the stairs behind her. It was Sammy and Katy, running down in their pajamas. “We've gotta get Jasper,” Sammy whispered as they rounded the bottom of the stairs and headed for the front door. Dee realized the barking had gone quiet.

“No Sammy, wait...” she said, but they were already at the front door.

Grandpa hadn't heard the kids go by, and now he said, “Maddie, get down and pull those guns closer. Stay out of my sights.”

Dee hesitated, glancing behind her. The doorway was clear, and Mason would be around in a minute on his sweep. “Come on Maddie,” Grandpa urged. She dropped to her knees and gingerly picked up the two weapons, careful not to block Grandpa's shot. As she stood back up she heard a click behind her.

Dee looked quickly down the hallway to the front door. The swinging lantern light showed a man locking the door. When he turned to face her she saw he held a gun to Katy's head.

“Tell the old man to put down the gun or the little girl gets it,” the man said without a trace of fear. Dee had no doubt he meant what he said. Grandpa was already lowering his gun.

“All of you – put the guns down and go stand by the table. Move it!”

Dee looked at Katy's terrified face and did what the man said. Soon, he had Hyrum's pistol too. “No one's going to get hurt as long as you do what I say.” Something about the man's voice sounded familiar and she tried to see him better in the dancing shadows. A flicker of light glanced off his enormous belt buckle and Dee fought to smother a gasp as she recognized the man who'd caught her trying to rescue Mason at the church – Mitchell. She glanced up at Hyrum to see if he'd made the connection and he gave her a slight nod, his face grim.

There was no sign of Mason, and Dee wondered what he was doing outside.

As if he could read her mind, Mitchell said with a sneer, “Your friend outside is down for the count.” He patted a second gun tucked into his belt, and Dee saw with horror that it was Mason's.

While they watched, the two guys were pulled out of the cellar and began loading the food supplies from the pantry.

“Anything down there?” Mitchell asked the man who'd fallen all the way in. He was sitting off to the side, nursing a hurt foot and glaring at anyone who dared look at him.

“Why don't you go see for yourself,” he snapped.
 

“Watch yourself, Martin,” warned Mitchell, “or you'll be walking back to town. You might have to anyway, because I'm thinking about bringing along that lovely young lady over there.” He indicated Dee with a nod of his head. “I know someone that wants to get to know her better, and I think he'll have a nice thank you present for whoever brings her in. Between her, that punk outside and the old man's kid, I think I'll earn my very own bottle of Wild Turkey before morning.

“Take the food,” said Grandpa, “but you're not taking the children.”

“Is that right, old man?” said Mitchell, bringing the gun around to point at Grandpa. “And who's going to stop me?”

At that moment, Angela stepped through the hallway door and into the kitchen behind Mitchell, and smashed him over the head with Grandpa’s crystal ball cane.

“I am.” she said, as he crumpled to the floor.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I
T
SEEMED
TO
D
EE
that the whole world froze. Angela bent over and picked up Mitchell's gun. The rest were in a bag at his feet. “Get on the floor!” she yelled at the men in the kitchen. They stood staring, not sure what to do.

Angela leveled the gun at the nearest man and said in the same carefully controlled voice Dee had heard her use with her children when she was especially cross with them, “One.”

The man prostrated himself on the floor, suddenly in a huge hurry to comply. “Two,” said Angela, and clicked off the safety.

The other men were on the floor before Angela got to three. Hyrum grinned. “Nice timing, Mom.”

Dee heard the roar of an engine and snatched up one of the guns and sprinted for the front porch. Sammy and Mason were still in trouble. She threw the front door open, but it was too late. A dirty tan pickup was racing down the lane, spitting up rocks and slushy mud as it made its escape. Mason chased after it but the truck pulled away easily, leaving him to stagger along behind.

Dee didn't dare take a shot, afraid she'd hit Mason. When she finally caught up to him he was standing with slumped shoulders and blood flowing freely from a gash in his forehead. He turned to face her and she took an inadvertent step back, startled by his eyes – black and full of fury.

She expected him to yell or scream, but his voice was tightly coiled. “Hank’s behind all of this and now he’s got Sammy. I'm going to kill him.”

Back at the farm, Hyrum and Jeremiah finished tying up the men and Grandpa checked Mitchell for a pulse.

“I didn't kill him, did I?” Angela asked, a worry line creasing her forehead.

“No, and it's a real shame. This feller's not worth the clothes he's wearin'. Mason, Hyrum – help me take this scum out to the barn and tie them inside the cattle trailer. We'll lock it up tight. That ought to hold 'em.” He looked at Mason. “After that we'll come up with a way to get Sammy back.”

Mason paced anxiously. “There's no time. I just need a gun and then I'm out of here.” He put a hand to his forehead and touched the dried blood there. “I'm such an idiot. Mitchell clocked me while I was trying to get the jump on his driver. Then he grabbed Sammy while I was down. I've got to go after him, he's just a kid.” Dee saw Mason's lip tremble as he turned away. “He's the only family I've got left.”

“Listen, son,” said Grandpa, putting a gnarled hand on Mason's shoulder. “I'm not going to try to stop you. You and Sammy are like my own kin now. But I don't think you should go rushing in without some back-up.”

“I'm not risking anyone else. This is between me and Hank.”

“Sammy's part of our family now too. Don't ask me to stay behind.” Hyrum crossed his arms across his chest and gave Mason a look that said I-dare-you-try-and-stop-me.

Dee reached for Grandpa's hand and gave it a squeeze. His eyes were warm on hers and she knew he understood. She looked at Mason. “I'm ready when you are.”

Mason shifted from one foot to the other, then glanced around the kitchen and gave a quick nod. “Let's get these guys out of here first.”

It didn't take long before they were ready to go. Mason and Hyrum both had backpacks with supplies they thought they might need, and they all had guns. The pistol Mason had given her felt heavy in the harness Mason had stripped from one of Hank's men. She wondered if she'd have the guts to use it if she had to.

It was late afternoon and cool shadows reached across the road. As they came up to the roadblock they got out of the truck to scope it out, but it was unmanned. The fire truck had been moved and they had no trouble pulling the truck around it. They drove slowly into the silent town in the lengthening twilight.

Mason had drawn a map of what he could remember of the layout of the police station, and they had a basic plan. Dee smiled wryly at the absurdity of calling it a plan. The idea was to break in, grab Sammy, and get away, but they didn't know how they would get in, where Sammy was being held, or how they were getting out. He might not even be at the police station.

Dee noticed Mason clenching and unclenching his fists, and put a hand on his arm. “We're going to get him back.”

They passed quietly through the empty streets. There weren't lights in any of the windows or smoke coming from the chimneys. She wondered if the houses were empty or if people were hiding inside. They parked the truck a couple of blocks away from the station and then crept through the cars still scattered around the parking lot of the urgent care center. The two-story building next door looked like a fortress. The fire station took up most of the lower floor, and the police station comprised the second story.

Dee felt her stomach clench tightly. They had to be crazy to try to break into a police station. Their breath was visible as puffs of steam in the chilly evening air and Dee wondered if Sammy was warm enough. She glanced at the other two to see if they were ready. One look at Mason's face and she knew he'd either bring Sammy out or die trying.
 

Hyrum whispered, “Do you mind if we say a prayer first?”

Dee expected Mason to make a snarky comment about it and was surprised when he nodded. “I wish I had your faith, man, but if your God listens to you we need all the help we can get.”

The prayer was short and to the point, and Dee and Mason both added their “Amen,” when it was over. She didn't know if God would help them or not, but the tense bundle of nerves in her stomach had relaxed somewhat and she felt like they might have a chance. Hopefully Mason was feeling it too.

“I guess this is it,” Hyrum said. “You guys ready?”

From outside they could see a guard sitting at the desk in the lobby. They couldn't get in that way. Instead they circled around to the fire bay. The tall garage-like doors were all rolled down and secured, and when Mason tried the smaller side door to the fire station it was locked.

“Just keep going around,” Mason whispered. “There's another door near the fitness center.”

Door after door was locked until Dee wanted to scream in frustration. They reached the last door but it was behind a chain-link fence that enclosed a small patio and gravel area. Hyrum looked at the fence and rubbed his chin. “Is there any point climbing over this thing? I'm sure they've got that door locked too.”

“Probably,” said Mason. “We've got to find some other way in. Maybe we can lure the guard outside.” They all knew the guard was sure to sound an alarm, and then they'd lose their only advantage.

Dee looked at the enclosure more closely. There wasn't a gate in the fence, but it wasn't topped with razor wire either. “What was this little area for, anyway?” she asked and then wrinkled her nose. “It stinks.”

“That door goes into the kennel for the K-9 unit. The dogs could come out here to pee.” Mason's expression brightened and he peered through the fence. “I forgot about this,” he whispered excitedly. “There used to be a doggy door so they could go in and out.”

Dee could see it now. A medium-sized door flap was installed in the lower half of the door.

“It's worth a try,” said Hyrum. “Hold on, I'll check it out first.”

He scaled the fence and dropped down lightly on the other side. No luck with the door handle. Dee held her breath while he tried the doggy door. It swayed slightly at his touch and Dee suppressed an excited shout. Crouching down, Hyrum pushed it open and peeked inside, then gave a thumbs up. “It's dark in there, no guards.”

Mason and Dee climbed over the fence while Hyrum tried to reach through the dog flap and unlock the door from the inside.

“It's no use, I can't reach.”

“Here, let me try,” said Mason, shouldering in. Dee scanned the area and saw a flickering light bobbing along near the fire bay.

“Someone's coming!” she whispered.

Mason's face was strained, but he couldn't reach the handle either.

Dee looked back at the flashlight. It was getting closer and would be on them any second. She looked at the small opening doubtfully. She took off her coat and sweater, feeling the night air cool the thin layer of sweat on her skin.

“No laughing,” she warned the others, and then stuck her arms and head through the door. She got through as far as her hips, but the opening wasn't wide enough. Even though their situation was grave, she felt a sudden urge to giggle at what she must look like from outside. If she could just turn sideways – the dog door was taller than it was wide, and maybe she could squeeze through that way. Awkwardly, she twisted her body through the narrow door and then she felt her hips clear the opening. She fell heavily onto her side and then turned and pulled her legs and feet in the rest of the way.
 

She was up instantly, feeling her way along the door. She found the doorknob and twisted the lock. The handle turned but the door wouldn't budge – there had to be another lock. Quickly she ran her hands over the door and found a deadbolt. It turned and the door opened, Mason and Hyrum crowded inside with her. Once they were in, they eased the door closed and Dee got down on the ground to peek through the doggy door at the guard. He strolled along casually and she didn't think he'd heard them.

They were in.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

M
ASON
AND
H
YRUM
WERE
already creeping down the hallway and Dee hurried to catch up. One hallway branched off to the right, and a few feet further down another branched left. Mason put a finger to his lips and looked down the first hallway. In a voice so low she could barely hear him he mouthed, “Lobby. The guy at the front desk has his back to us.” Then he indicated the hallway that led left. “The holding cells are down that way. You stay here while I check it out.” He didn't give them any time to argue, and he was back moments later with a shake of his head. “They're using them for storage. Sammy's probably upstairs.” He motioned toward the hallway on the right. “Stairs are this way.”