Second Chances (129 page)

“What?”

“If we can't vent the tank we go the other route. I told the computer to stop production and get help,” Mitch said. He frowned, wanting his tablet but glad he'd shut it off. He wasn't sure how much hydrogen was venting in the leak but any electric spark could cause an ignition.

He traced the lines from memory. Fresh water came in from one pipeline, went through the filtration and treatment works, then was compressed before it was fed into the electrolysis unit. Power from that came from the substation...power. “Bob, go to the power controls. The fuse box. Shut the power down to the electrolysis,” he ordered.

“Got it,” Bob said. “But the leak isn't here!” He warned as he took off at a trot.

“No, it's not. And there is a blockage too,” Mitch said. He turned and examined the pipes once more. Once the hydrogen and oxygen were split, they went through a dryer and series of compressors to the tanks nearby. He climbed the ladder and shut down the dryer and then leaned out. He could just make the reach to the compressor controls. He winced at the pain in his abused abdomen but ignored it as he turned off the compressor.

“Electrolysis is off,” Bob called. “What next?”

“We need to get the blockage stopped!” Mitch yelled back. He slid down the ladder by holding the rails and then when his feet hit the concrete pad under the equipment he moved out for the network of pipes that came from the first stage hydrogen storage to the long term storage or the various chemical works nearby. When he got to the valve assembly he noted the wiring to the servos that controlled the valves had been torn out. He swore softly as he tugged on the first valve. It was shut. That meant the electrolysis had been pumping hydrogen into the first stage storage without any relief. He yanked, but he didn't have the strength to break the seal. He looked around desperately for a bar to get more leverage.

Bob came over slowly, agonizingly slowly. “Get a breaker bar and move your fat ass or we're all dead!” Mitch bellowed at the man. Bob blinked and then looked around in confusion.

Mitch pointed in exasperation to the large wrench he'd passed at the control station. “Get that! A pipe! Anything! We've got to get these valves open!” Mitch yelled.

“Okay!” Bob yelled. He turned in fear as they heard hissing coming from the tank. Mitch judged a seal had finally burst. No more hydrogen was being pumped in, in fact some of it was making its way back out the way it had come in now that the electrolysis was off. But with it off there was a chance it could mix with the oxygen and spark something. They were living on borrowed time here, he realized as he struggled with the valve.

When he realized it was beyond his strength he turned in desperation to one of the others. All five were shut, which shouldn't have happened. But he managed to crack the seal on the farthest one as Bob came over lugging the wrench. He put his back into it, grunting and straining as the valve turned minusculely. Once he had it cracked, hydrogen rushed in pushing it further open for him. He gasped as the pressure helped him get it all the way open.

“One down,” Mitch said. Bob stood there, unsure what to do. Mitch grabbed the wrench and put it into the valve wheel. “Come on, help!” He snarled, pushing. Bob blinked and then moved in. He couldn't get a hand hold behind Mitch so he took it from the other side. Together they broke the seal and got the valve open, though Bob was sent on his ass and Mitch nearly fell over.

As Bob untangled himself, Mitch threw himself at the third valve, this one leading to the plastics. He got the wrench in and then pushed. Bob didn't need further instruction; he silently took the other side and tugged for all he was worth.

When they got the other three valves open Mitch sighed, wiping his sweaty brow.

“Did we do it?” Bob asked, panting.

“I don't know. I hope so. I'm too pooped to run,” Mitch said.

“We should get out of here,” Bob said.

“No, go check the pressure readings. See if it's going down,” Mitch ordered, pointing to the controls.

“But...”

“I think backup is coming,” Mitch said, hearing trucks approaching. “Who did this, Bob?” He demanded.

“Did what?”

“Closed the valves. Yanked out the wiring,” Mitch said, pointing to the bare wires. “We're lucky that didn't spark the fire when I ordered the computer to open these valves,” Mitch murmured, studying the wiring. “Someone wanted this place, our home destroyed. Everything we've worked for. You would have died. Me too,” he said shaking his head.

Bob studied the valve assembly and recognized the tampering. He realized the accident was sabotage. Bob was in shock. He realized they'd done it; they'd really tried to kill him! “I...they really tried to kill me!” Bob babbled.

“Who?” Mitch asked. “Who tried to kill you?” he asked, looking at the man.

“Dunn! He's the only one here, the others left!”

“Others?”

“Ciara and Tariq!”

“Why would they want you dead, Bob? What did you do?”

“I...I...they wanted you out of the way. Everyone thought you were setting yourself up to be king, they kept telling me over and over. I didn't believe it at first but then you started in with the orders and...I didn't want to but...” he shrugged helplessly. “They wanted me to infest you with scorpions but I refused,” he shook his head and then licked his lips. Mitch turned on him, grim and angry as the man gave him his confession.

“Honest, they just told me to hand you the drink. I didn't know what was in it.” He spread his hands, looking imploringly at Mitch.

“You mean you didn't
want
to know. But I bet you guessed,” Mitch snarled coldly. Bob flinched and then hung his head. “Those kids
died
, Bob. They died in agony and terror as those things ate them
alive
, and you did nothing to stop it,” he snarled, fists clenching. “I should have let you die,” he said darkly as someone else came up behind them.

“I wish you had now,” Bob whispered.

Mitch saw the shadow of someone coming up behind him. He turned. “It's about time someone else showed up,” he said but was blinded by the sun and a burst of intense pain as something hit him on the left side of his face. He saw stars, staggering back.

Mitch realized he'd been cold-cocked from behind. He hit back blindly then charged. Luck was with him; he hit his attacker and shoved him off balance and onto his ass. He staggered away, getting his bearings. He realized his attacker was Dunn from the boots and brief glimpse he'd gotten, but the man had hit him with something on his hand that had torn his scalp.

He moved away, but his attacker got to his feet enough to drop into a crouch and sprang. Mitch was body slammed from his right side and behind; he bit his tongue and felt his face and chest ground into the dirt and rocks.

His head was repeatedly pounded into ground. In desperation he twisted and tried to hit back. An elbow connected just as their legs tangled. They struggled but all he could see was blood and dirt.

There were screams from a woman behind him, distant things. “Get off him!” a woman kept yelling.

Mitch managed to roll and kick to fend off his attacker. He was woozy though; he realized he had a head injury to compound his abdomen trauma.

Instinctively though he tried to protect his head with his arms as fists came in fast. He saw flashes and felt bursts of pain in his arms and head. “I'm going to kill you, Chambers. I should have done this the right way from the beginning,” the colonel said grimly.

Someone grabbed Colonel Dunn from behind, clawing at his face. He bellow in pain as claws tore at his face. Momentarily distracted and in pain, Dunn forgot about Chambers for the moment to get his attacker off him. He threw his head back hitting her, then hunched fast breaking her grip on his head and shoulders to throw the woman off balance and over his shoulder.

Janet had one moment of fear and elation of distracting the colonel from killing Mitch just long enough for her to feel him hammer her with an elbow then throw her flying face first into the dirt and concrete. She was dazed after a moment, trying to recover.

Distracted by the attack the colonel gave Mitch enough time to recover. Mitch lashed out with a foot, hammering his knee and making him drop with another bellow. Mitch kicked again, but Dunn fended that kick off forcing him to roll and twist. He came back in and punched his attacker in his solar plexus, then got a blow up to hit the man's unguarded throat. He pushed the man off as he gasped for breath, hand clutching at his bruised larynx. Trucks and people came tearing up.

“What the hell's going on, Mitch?” Brian asked. A few of his work party stood there staring.

“Well it's about time,” Mitch grumbled. He waved a hand. “Arrest that man,” he said pointing to Dunn. “Him too,” he said, waving to a frozen Bob.

“Care to say why?” Brian asked, looking at them.

“He...he tried to kill me!” Bob said, pointing an accusing finger towards the colonel. The chief and others turned to him.

“Shut...up,” the colonel coughed, still clutching at his throat. He tried to get past his knees but the chief pushed him back down. One hand grabbed his right hand and pulled it up behind him in an arm bar hold.

“He...he freakin’ tried to kill me! I swear! I...okay, I knew about the parasites but I didn't know other people would drink it! When I found out I tried to stop it! But they stopped me! I swear! Honest, you've got to believe me!” Bob pleaded.

Janet gasped. Mitch looked over to her; apparently she'd followed him out and had been the one attacking the colonel. She was looking a bit worse for wear, almost as battered as he was.

Gunny Hodges looked at the chief, then Dunn. John Duster came up with a few of the other delegates.

“So, he tried to kill you to shut you up, I take it?” Gunny Hodges demanded. Bob nodded dumbly. He turned to the colonel.

Mitch rubbed his bloody nose and face with the back of his dirty hand. He winced at the sharp pain. From the feel...he carefully probed the nose. Yes, it was busted he judged. It felt filled with crap. He wiped at his brow but only came back with more blood. A snot rag was pressed against his temple by someone trying to help. He looked at his knuckles as he tipped his head to deal with the bleeding head wound. Yup, both hands were bloodied as well. A finger or two were bruised up, possibly broken too. He groaned and staggered to his feet. “Mitch, damn it, just sit there,” Gunny Hodges said. A hand grabbed his bicep to steady him.

“He's too stupid and stubborn to do that,” Phyllis said, holding Bob by the arm. From the look of the overweight man, he was too shocked to resist.

“Hell with that,” Mitch said, steadying himself on something metal. Helping hands helped him up and away. He looked back in satisfaction to see Gunny Hodges and Chief Roberts securing Colonel Dunn as a prisoner with his belt and a lot of rigging tape.

------*------

When Mitch was delivered back at base Brian helped him inside and to the infirmary. Dora gasped when she saw him come in, covered in dirt and blood. Cassie looked up from where she'd been sitting at a nurse’s station in her wheelchair and gasped as well. “Mom!” she called anxiously.

“What?” Sandra said. She came out at a trot to find her husband standing there for the worst for wear. She stared for a long moment until Dora broke the taboo by motioning Brian to help Mitch to the nearest bed.

“Damn it, Mitch!” Sandra said, shaking her head. “I just finished patching you up!” She moved in, now all professional.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, feeling at his mouth with his battered tongue.

She ran an exam as Dora paged Sandy Perez and Doctor Ventura. When they arrived she worried about brain trauma when she noted the cuts on his head and bruises.

“Is your neck sore?” she asked. He grunted an affirmative.

She was tender to him as Dora and Sandy handed her swabs to clean him up. “Take over,” Sandra finally said as emotions got to her.

She stepped back as Dora came in, looking at her in confusion. Sandra cried, eyes filling with tears.

Doctor Ventura looked up from examining his abdomen. “I don't see any ripped stitches. He's lucky,” he said.

“Lucky. The other guy got off light,” Mitch said. “You get to check him out later. Not that you'll want to,” he said.

“What happened?” Dora asked as they let Sandra get control of herself.

“Dunn,” Brian said from behind them. They turned to see him leaning against a bed near Cassie. He crossed his arms. “The bastard was the one who put the parasites in the cup. Him, Ciara, Bob, and Tariq,” he said coldly.

“Bob?” Cassie asked quietly. Brian nodded. “Why Bob?”

“We don't know. He's the one who handed Mitch the drink apparently. The chief and Phyllis will get to the bottom of it,” he said. “Boss, I've got...” he looked at Mitch.

“Go,” Mitch croaked out, waving a battered hand.

“Hope you feel better,” Brian said as he straightened. “Visiting you in here is getting old. No offense folks,” he said. He patted Cassie on the shoulder and then left.

“Hey,” Mitch said, holding a hand out. He felt Sandra take his fingers. He tightened his hand, then pulled her in closer. He wrapped his arm around her hip. “I'll live,” he said.