Windigo Soul (12 page)

“You’re telling me all these years I’ve been a cannibal and haven’t even known it.”

“You got it.” Seamus grabbed a hold of the ladder and looked up. “You ever see me dig on some flesh all the times we’ve ate together? Seeing that shit’ll turn you into a vegetarian, real quick. Come on man, we need to keep moving. Head up the ladder and I’ll be right behind you.”

Hank started climbing.

“Security was a little more laid back in them days when I worked the line,” Seamus continued. “After lights out I’d sneak out sometimes and I decided one night to see what was going on up in the ceiling. I discovered the ventilation system and started exploring.”

“I was wondering how you knew which turns to make in the dark like that,” Hank said.

“Yeah, I guess it all came back to me. Took me a long time to figure out the right route, though. One time I got so lost up in there I just barely made it out before my shift started. Now that was a close-ass call.”

Hank stopped on the ladder and looked down at Seamus. “We’re at the top. Now what?”

“Hopefully that access hatch won’t be locked. Give it a little push.”

Hank carefully pushed on the trap door over his head and it opened freely. He climbed the last of the rungs and looked out into a narrow crawl space full of pipes and cabling. He dusted off his hands as Seamus crawled out of the access door. “Where to?”

Seamus removed another ventilation cover and looked inside. “Shaft city, Sweetheart.”

Hank groaned and rubbed his knees. “How much longer? I don’t know if these old joints can take it.”

“Come on, Old-timer. This was your idea, not mine.” He crawled into the shaft and Hank followed. Fortunately for Hank’s knees, the trip through this portion of vents wasn’t as far as last time. They turned a corner and he could see light coming in at the end of the tunnel. Seamus turned around and signaled for Hank to move quietly.

They carefully crawled to the end and Seamus peered into the vent to the room below. He motioned for Hank to come close and moved over to the side as far as he could. Hank was just able to squeeze in next to Seamus and look through the vent.

It looked like some sort of computer room. A single soldier sat at a terminal surrounded by racks of servers and networking equipment. The hum from all the cooling fans below probably drowned out any noise they were making, but Seamus was still careful to whisper in Hank’s ear. “We’re just gonna have to wait here until this guy takes a break. Once he’s out of the room, I’ll remove the cover and you’re going to have to jump down to the floor.”

Hank looked down and figured it to be at least a twelve foot drop.

“Head out the door and make a right. Once you’re out in that hallway, I think that leads to the outside. Wish I knew more, but that’s as far as I ever got.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Hank whispered.

Seamus shook his head. “Nothing for me out there anymore. This is where I belong. I’ll try my best to haul ass back to the boiler room and see if I can buy you some time if you make it out.”

Hank nodded and looked back down through the vent. His mouth was bone dry and his heart pounded in his chest. The overwhelming urge to escape and surge of confidence he felt back on his shift were long gone. Now he just felt old and terrified.

The soldier below stretched and rose from his chair.

“Here we go,” Seamus hissed. “This might be it.”

Hank panicked and turned to his friend. Just before he meant to tell him it was off and they should go back the way they came, the ceiling supports for the ventilation shaft broke free. The shaft split open. Hank and Seamus along with a raining mess of sheet metal, dust, and plaster, crashed to the floor.

The startled soldier gaped at the mess and the two men slowly crawling out of it. As the two retirees looked up, it finally dawned on him what was happening and he fumbled for his sidearm. He pointed the gun at them as one of his colleagues appeared in the doorway behind him. “Get the LT on the phone,” he called over his shoulder. “These guys are trying to escape.”

Chapter 16

Sanderson struggled to keep up with Lieutenant Hendricks as he strode down the hall. “What happened?”

“Couple of geezers actually fell through the ceiling over in IT,” Hendricks said over his shoulder. “That’s all I know so far.”

“Anything like this ever happen before?”

“Not on my watch.”

As they rounded the corner, a sinking feeling came over Sanderson. He knew the odds were against it and he had no reason for his rising suspicions. Yet when Hendricks opened the door and stepped aside, Sanderson wasn’t the least bit surprised when he saw a stunned looking Hank Reed standing there in the middle of the room next to a tall black guy.

Hank’s mouth actually fell open when he spotted him and Sanderson wondered if anybody else had noticed Hank’s reaction. He stared at Hank without emotion or recognition and allowed himself to feel slightly relieved after a few seconds passed and Hank said nothing. Sanderson could only imagine what must have been going through his head.

Hendricks broke the silence “Well, well. What do we have here?”

Two soldiers covered the retirees with their service pistols. “They fell right through the ceiling, Sir. Gave me a start, but I had ‘em covered right away.”

Hendricks slapped the kid on the soldier. “Good job, Corporal. Now what are you boys up to? Mr. Carver, I would’ve thought you’d been here long enough to know the rules by now. Shouldn’t you two be hard at work in your boiler room?”

Seamus stared at the floor and said nothing.

“It wasn’t his fault, Sir,” Hank said. “I admit I was trying to escape, but Seamus had nothing to do with it. He tried to stop me but I wouldn’t listen. The only reason he’s standing next to me now is he finally caught up with me and tried to get me to turn back. Then we fell.”

“Hank,” Seamus started.

Hank held up his hand and took a step forward. “Lieutenant, I’m telling you the truth. Seamus is completely innocent. Do what you want to me, but leave him out of it.”

Hendricks stood motionless, staring at Hank and saying nothing. Only the sound of the fans keeping the servers cool on the far wall filled the room. “Corporal Swanson,” he finally said. He continued to stare at Hank.

“Sir?”

“Do you have a round chambered in your weapon?”

Swanson glanced at his partner before looking down at his gun, still pointed at the escapees. “Yes, Sir.”

“What about the safety, Corporal? Is the safety engaged or disengaged?”

“Safety’s off, LT.”

“Hand me your weapon, Corporal.” Hendricks held out his right hand but never looked away from Hank.

“Sir?”

“Hand me your weapon. Now.”

The confused corporal lowered his gun and handed it to Hendricks. Without hesitation, Hendricks pointed the gun at Hank’s face. Hank swallowed and took a step back. Hendricks turned his aim to Seamus and pulled the trigger. The bullet entered Seamus’s neck, showering Hank with a fine mist of blood as he watched his friend collapse to the floor. Hank stood in shock, unable to move as Seamus let out a few wet coughs and fell still.

All eyes in the room were on Seamus, except for Sanderson. He watched the lieutenant. He saw the brief look of terror flash across Hendricks’s face after he pulled the trigger. Surprised by the violent effects of his action. That second of regret quickly dissolved into other emotions. Excitement and blood lust. If Sanderson had to guess, he would say that was probably the first time Hendricks had killed a man and it seemed to agree with him.

“No!” Hank dropped to his knees and placed his hand on his friend’s chest.

“Dammit, Reed,” Hendricks boomed. “Thanks to you, I had to kill one of my best workers.” He pointed the gun at Hank again. “You can spend the next five seconds of your miserable life knowing it was your fault he’s dead.”

Sanderson’s heart raced. He thought of the conversation with Victor Young. He thought of the young mother and her daughter, the terror in their eyes. The tears. He thought of Mark Phillips. The sad look of relief on his face the second before he stepped off the roof of his apartment building to his death. Mostly he thought of Sara. He wondered how he’d be able to get into bed with her that night knowing he stood by and watched her father get gunned down and did nothing to stop it.

Hendricks pointed the gun at Hank and pulled the hammer back.

“Lieutenant,” Sanderson said. “That’s enough.”

Hendricks slowly looked away from his target and raised his eyebrows at him. “Excuse me?”

“I said, that’s enough. You already killed a retiree in cold blood and I’ll be damned if you do it a second time.”

Hendricks lowered the gun and turned to him. “Last time I checked, I was the commanding officer of this facility. And as CO, it’s left to my discretion to administer punishment as I see fit. This man,” he pointed his gun at Hank, “attempted to escape. Under the very specific guidelines of the Federal Department of Retirement, punishment includes up to, and including, death.” Hendricks took a step towards Sanderson. “So what’s the problem, Brother?”

Sanderson looked at the two soldiers covering Hank. They both glared at him, the outsider in the black suit who dared to question their commander.  It was obvious they didn’t have a problem with what was about to happen. “No problem, Lieutenant. Just thought it might be a bad idea to do it in here. Blood on the equipment, and all.”

Hendricks sneered at him before turning his back and pointed his weapon at Hank again. Sanderson dove forward, simultaneously driving the heel of his left palm in Hendricks’s kidney while striking his right arm. The lieutenant pulled the trigger but only hit the wall behind Hank.

Before the two soldiers could react, Sanderson had their commanding officer on the floor with Hendricks’s neck under his knee and his gun in his hand, pointing at the private who was still armed. “Drop it!”

Hendricks gurgled something from the floor. Sanderson drove his knee down harder and pulled the lieutenant’s arm up farther causing him to scream in pain. The soldiers held their ground and the private didn’t lower his gun.

“If we start shooting, I guarantee at least one of you is dead before I go down,” Sanderson said. “Drop your weapon and we all walk out of here breathing.”

The younger private glanced at Corporal Swanson. Swanson nodded and raised his hands.

“Good.” Sanderson watched as the soldier slowly placed his Beretta on the floor. “Hank, pick up the gun.”

Hank still knelt next to Seamus’s lifeless body with a stunned look on his face.

“Hank!”

Hank finally scrambled to his feet and picked up the gun. Sanderson got off Hendricks and dragged him to his feet. “Get over there with your men.”

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hendricks rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you lose your goddamn mind?”

“You.” Sanderson pointed at the private and then the door on the far wall. “What’s in there?”

“Nothing. Just a storage room.”

“Do you have any idea how much shit you’re in?” Hendricks seethed. “You think you can just walk out of here?”

Sanderson nodded toward the door. “Let’s go. Get in there.”

“And for what?” Hendricks pointed at Hank. “For this washed up old bastard?”

“Lieutenant, one more word and I’ll blow your fucking head off. Get. In. Now.”

Hendricks glared at him before finally nodding to his men. Corporal Swanson opened the closet door and the three men went inside. Sanderson slammed the door closed and grabbed Hank by the shirtsleeve. He lifted Hank’s arm so his gun pointed at the door. “We don’t have much time.” He raised his voice loud enough for the soldiers to hear. “If that opens as much as a crack, I want you to empty your whole mag into it. Got it?”

“John, what…”

“Later! We need to get the hell out of here.” Sanderson tipped over a tall metal shelving unit to the floor and dragged it over in front of the store room door. Hendricks and his men would have to push the door out to escape, and with the bookshelf wedged in between the wall and door, they’d only be able to open it six inches.

“That should hold ‘em for a while,” Sanderson gasped. “Come on, let’s go.”

Hank turned and froze as he faced Seamus.  A large pool of blood had collected on the tile floor beneath his head and his mouth hung open. His glassy eyes stared at Hank.

“Hank.” John spoke his name more softly this time.

He turned to his son-in-law, still trying to wrap his head around the sudden and violent death of his friend. Trying to comprehend his world that had turned completely upside down in a single afternoon. But mostly he wondered what exactly his daughter’s husband was doing here. And why he didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see Hank in the first place.

“We need to go.” Sanderson gently pushed him from behind to the door on the other side of the room. They ran down a short hallway, up a flight of stairs, and daylight hit Hank’s face as John shoved the door open. Just like that, he was outside, overwhelmed by the vast sky above him for the first time in months. They stood on a narrow strip of blacktop between the olive colored brick building and the dense forest beyond.

“There.” Sanderson pointed to a truck parked nearby and ran for it. He pointed his gun at the confused looking soldier standing by the bed of the truck holding a tablet. Sanderson ordered him to put his hands over his head and brought the butt of the gun down on the soldier’s head when he complied. Hank helped Sanderson drag the unconscious soldier into the woods and jumped into the truck.

Sanderson slid behind the wheel and gunned it, heading straight for one of the locked gates surrounding the installation. The large vehicle easily smashed through and Sanderson forced himself to ease up and slow down to gain control. “Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered to himself. “What did I just do?”

Hank looked over his shoulder. “Damn, that was almost too easy.”

“Don’t get your hopes up yet. It’ll take another minute or two for them to figure out what happened, but it won’t be long before they’re right on our ass.” Sanderson pushed the truck to the limit on the narrow and winding roadway. “As a matter of fact, we’ll probably hit a roadblock before that. This is the only way in and out before we get to the old highway.”