Pilliars in the Fall (17 page)

"We might need to look at this another way. I'm not too keen on holding up the Doc but we're kind of getting backed into a corner here," Clint began, only to be cut off by his son.

“Guy's, if you don't want to press that asshole of a doctor then this is real simple," he turned to me and his face lit up. "You know where there is a ton of propane, in tanks, ready to be moved, and you know how we can get to it without causing a fuss. Remember?”

“Huh,” I nodded. “I didn't even think of that. But dude, first we don’t know if its there, plus we haven’t been down there in years. They could have been gated or walled up or worse, people might be living down there these days,” I reminded him.

“Down where? What are you guys talking about?” Danielle interjected.

“So we take a sledge hammer and some bolt cutters,” he continued, temporarily ignoring the fact that no one else but him and I knew exactly what it was that we were talking about.

“Still we don’t know if the tanks are still kept there or if someone has already gotten to them before us,” I said again.

“You told me the other day...”

“A lot has happened since then,” I interrupted.

“Only one way to find out,” he retorted eagerly.

“Okay
, hold it! Can you two please shut up and start over? What do you know that we don’t?” Danielle admonished us. She sounded angry but also had the knowing look that she was witnessing the way two friends that were closer than brothers communicated with each other.

“We know where there might be some propane,” I finally admitted.

“A lot of propane. And we know how to get to it without any issues. No main roads and we'd never be seen,” Blake completed my statement.

“I’ve got that much,
but how?” she again prompted, this time with a hand rubbing her temples in frustration.

Blake and I looked at each other and he ushered me forward.

“Steam tunnels.”

“Steam tunnels?” she repeated.

“You guys know about those?” Clint asked.

“Yeah, we might have gone in them a couple times,” Blake confessed.

“Guys…” Danielle was growing more impatient now that Clint had joined in our discussion that to her, still sounded like a bunch of rambling.

“The college and most of the old buildings in town at one time or another were heated by the steam plant on campus. They are all connected by these old steam and utility tunnels. Next door to the plant, hell in the same parking lot, are the Facilities and Maintenance buildings. And out back of that, in a big concrete enclosure is a propane tank holding area where they kept all the tanks for Dining Services and barbecues and forklifts and stuff. The one time I saw it up close there had to be over fifty of the five gallon tanks there, and they were all full,” Blake detailed.

“And how long ago was that?” It was clear Danielle didn’t have a whole lot of faith in this new idea, but apparently she did prefer the thought of robbery over hostage taking I noticed.

"Dude?" Blake turned to me for the answer.

“The place was still packed about a month ago from what I could see at the time,” I relented.

“You've scouted it?” Clint wouldn’t say it, but I could tell he had mixed emotions of both disappointment and encouragement in having a possible answer to our problems.

“Kind of unintentionally, yes,” I admitted.

“
Okay and the tunnels?” Danielle’s tone was changing and it revealed her curiosity as the idea started to take shape into one with merit.

“You still have the map?” Blake again looked at me.

“Yeah," I paused, "let me dig it out.”

“You have a map of the steam tunnels?” Clint had the tone of a parent finding something out about his child years after he had committed the violation.

"There were always rumors of them and it didn’t take much peaking around to find a couple of the entrances,” I walked over to a box with some binders and random collected papers in it, followed closely by Blake.

“Okay, but how do you have a map?”

“Well…”

“Oh this is the best part!” Blake elbowed me in the ribs.

“I might have
found
a binder in a cop car one night that had a few interesting things in it.”

“Oh for the love of…” Danielle rolled her eyes.

“
In
a cop car?” Clint prodded, not exactly smiling at the situation.

“Well, on the hood actually. Anyway, besides the daily reports, there was the map. The map and some interesting phone numbers, a do-all key card to every dorm on campus…”

“And you took it, as in stole it?” Danielle accused.

“And he made copies,” Blake happily supplied.

“Alright, so let’s take a look at this map,” Clint said, getting us back on track.

“Hold on, are you guys saying you’re okay with basically stealing these things?” Danielle finally remembered her perceived morals and ethics.

“Well basically, yes,” Blake answered flatly.

“If we only wanted them that would be one thing, but for Kathy... plus we’re going to need power from the generator to make it through this. With propane for the lanterns and stove, we can save the gas to pump water, use the radio, cook without burning a fire... No, obviously I don’t like it and it is wrong, but like the man said, we’re in a tight spot here,” Clint resigned.

"Do you guys remember everything we’ve had to do in just the last week? Look around, there is no clear cut right or wrong and if we can use it for good instead of someone like those militia douches using it to scam people, then why not us?" Blake was a master at situational ethics. I knew as much because unfortunately he had picked up a lot of it from me.

"But this is wrong," Danielle continued to protest although she was visibly losing steam.

“Come on, it's up for grabs. The college abandoned all that stuff when they closed up shop and just left it there. Isn't that right?” Blake asked me excitedly.

“Well yeah, I mean they fired everyone and the skeleton staff they left to maintain and finish the shut down all took off probably three months ago. I don't know if that means its exactly up for grabs,” I tried to weigh both sides of the issue. “Anything they left they either forgot, didn't think was worth a profit, or worth the effort to take it themselves. So in this case I'm guessing they didn't know about it.”

"If you have another way that isn’t threatening to burn down the clinic or the doctor's house, or kidnapping his family for a ransom of treatment, then I'm all ears,” Blake implored to us all. “We can at least go take a look. It's not like it's all that far and we have a safe and quiet way in and out. If there are some tanks, then we can grab a few and call it a night. If not, then we burn that bridge when we come to it."

"Cross that bridge," Danielle muttered a correction.

I didn't like it. Actually I wasn't sure how I felt about it and I think Clint was in the same boat as I was. Looking at him, he gave me a curt nod to break out the maps.

“Okay here’s the full tunnel network and here’s the overlay of the city,” I laid out the two sheets on the hood of the Polara for us all to see.

“Look, perfect back road access to this entrance here from the north,” Blake pointed. “What part of the campus is that?”

“The little parking garage they put in when they built the new
Rec Center. I did a burnout there in a buddy’s Grand National about a week after they poured the concrete,” I laughed.

“Have you been there? I mean have you seen and used this entrance?” Clint asked me.

“Once, after they tore down the old building and when the new one was still going up. My company did some of the work in the garage. I think this is the utility room right at the driveway entrance to the garage that has the tunnel access in it,” I pointed to a spot on the old police map.

“Why would they have access to old steam tunnels in a new building?” Danielle astutely questioned.

“It’s already there, they probably just tapped into it just because, or maybe to heat the garage? Who knows, but you saw the entrance right?” Blake pushed.

“Yeah, big square door
; its there,” I confirmed.

“And the tunnels are big enough to walk through?” Danielle asked.

“It’s just like a long hallway with pipes running in it. Clint, you ever been in them?” I was noticing he was awful quiet now that we were looking seriously at the prospect of using the tunnels. I wasn’t sure if he was just trying to decide if he was questioning this extra-lawful activity, or if he was maybe hiding something.

“Kids used to go in them back in the day to drink or smoke or hook up with their girlfriends,” he evaded.

“I’ll bet they did,” I smirked.

“How far is it in the tunnel from end to end?” Danielle asked.

“They maze around forever but for where we’d be going, it looks like just about a quarter mile,” I referred to the two points on the map.

“Well why not just drive right up to them?” she again asked.

“Bad location to drive to. No good back access that you could slip in and out of in a car or truck. Gates on the access road in, but this tunnel would do nicely,” I spelled it out for her.

“That’s a long way to haul a heavy load, even for you,” Clint tilted his head at me.

“Hand cart!” Blake crowed triumphantly. “I stubbed my toe on it the other night when we were here.”

“The what?” I asked him.

“Your furniture dolly. It's got big tires, not those plastic wheels, and the tunnels all have flat floors. I bet we can fit three or four propane cylinders on it, strap ‘em down and virtually run the whole way. Couldn’t be easier!” he explained.

“That could work,” I rubbed my shoulders thinking how without it, even my muscles would be at their limits trying to carry full propane tanks any sort of a distance.

“Couldn’t be easier...” Danielle huffed again softly.

“I heard rumors that all the doors to the tunnels had alarms on them, I never saw any the few times I went in though." My memory was beginning to dredge up all the little details that could be either a help or hindrance.

"Plus they'd have to be powered and there would have to be a guard or whoever to go check on any alarm,” Blake supplied.

"There's still some power in town but I doubt there are any spare guards or engineers or whoever to go look into some minor unknown alarm,” Clint said, then made a steely eye contact with me before continuing on. “Look, you and I have done a few of these before... Blake, why don’t you take Danielle and go back to the clinic to help out with your mom."

Clint and I had done a couple of sanctioned security test runs a few times over the years. It was always on the level and just to help out with training or a trial run on a new building's grounds, but it did give us an edge in experience.

"What? No way!" Blake cried out.

"Yeah, um actually this might be a little closer to some of the stupid stunts Blake and I used to pull when we were younger,” I surprised Clint with my sudden support of the unpredictable fly-by-night member of our group that I had already voiced my concerns about. "But that’s not a bad idea, why don’t you two head back to the clinic. Blake and I can handle this one and then we’ll meet you guys back there later.”

"If we're just going to check it out then why all the precautions?" Danielle suddenly stepped up. "If you
two or you three for that matter are going, you can use all the help you can get."

Like I had done more than once over the past week, I looked around, surveying the faces and body language of the three people standing here with me. This time I saw a lot less of the previous fear or hesitation.

Had it really come to this? There had to be another way. The problem was that Kathy would just get worse and might not even survive while we figured out what that other way was. Time was a luxury that we just didn’t have right now.

"I guess it won't hurt just to go look," I finally made up my mind. “I want everyone in vests, Dani?"

"Way ahead of you," she lifted the side of her shirt to show off that she already was wearing the bullet
resistant
vest I had given to her a few days ago. I smiled sadly thinking of how at the time she had thought the idea was ridiculous. Apparently recent events had changed her tune.

“Here,” I said walking over to th
e gun safe and swinging it open and then handing her the grenade launcher she had thought was just as silly as the vest. “Single shot, about one hundred and fifty yards total range. I’ve only got a handful of flares, smoke and CS rounds so get to know it cause you’re carrying it along with that M1 carbine.”

“What, why?”
she asked in a new tone, now slightly more interested then appalled.

“Same reason I own it; just in case,” I smirked.

“It’s a good idea,” Clint interjected. “Flares if we need light, gas to break up a crowd or smoke to hide us. Just watch which way the wind is blowing,” he advised her. “You have any more of those hand thrown smoke grenades the search and rescue guys gave us?”