Sara darted out from behind Jasmine to her mother and wrapped her arms around her, all the while screaming and sobbing.
Eyeing the father, Jasmine nodded, and the father replied by shifting his eyes to a door in the center of the room. Jasmine, with the speed of a frightened cat, pulled the cannon and fired her last round. The door and the room on the other side exploded. When the dust and debris settled, another guard lay in several pieces. Still clutched in his hand was an AK47. Damn it, Toby, Jasmine thought. I need to start using my senses…
Jasmine quickly untied the father, and while the father spun around to his wife, Jasmine untied Sara’s brother, and took in a quick gasp of air. She was stunned at how handsome the young man was. Even through bloodstains and bruises he was probably the most handsome man she had ever met. He had doe brown eyes that most women would kill for. Dooriya was right, Jasmine thought as the guy stood up slowly, and with much effort. Two inches taller than she was, Jasmine had to look up at him.
He tried to smile, but his busted lips made it difficult and painful. He then turned to his mother. She was hurt, but Jasmine didn’t believe it was serious. Jasmine then dropped her pack and removed her first aid kit. “I have a painkiller, that will help for a while at least,” Jasmine said, and then began examining her. “Looks like a little internal bruising but I think you’ll be okay.” While Jasmine shook out a pill the son handed her a canteen.
“I’m Eric,” Sara’s brother said. “I, I don’t know how to thank you. My father was on the menu tonight.”
“Jasmine,” Jasmine said with a nod while proffering her hand. While they shook hands, Jasmine, her eyes never leaving his, continued in an almost embarrassed fashion, “Is everyone else okay?” She’d have to give Dooriya hell whenever she next saw her. The last thing she needed was some love-struck guy.
“The name is Bill, Bill Cotter,” Bill said while nodding toward his wife, “This is my wife Evelyn and, yes, I believe we’re all okay, but we owe you our lives.”
Jasmine took a moment to clean the blood from Eric’s face, and then dabbed a salve on the cut beneath his gorgeous right eye. While lightly pinching the cut, she dabbed it with glue. “It’s a small laceration,” Jasmine said, smiling. “I’d be real surprised if it leaves a scar.” She shook out another painkiller into her palm and handed it to him.
“Thank you,” Eric said, “but I’m sure my dad could use it.”
Jasmine then turned and handed another to Bill. “These are fairly strong without any side affects. They’ll last twenty-four hours, hopefully long enough to get you to safety.”
After putting away her first aid kit, Jasmine loaded her last three shells into the cannon and returned it to her holster. She then pulled on her pack and, as she fastened it, she noticed Bill Cotter’s family was staring at her.
“Not much for words, I take it,” Bill said, holding back the slightest grin.
“What brings you here,” Evelyn asked.
“I’m on my way to Dallas and happened onto Toby… well… Toby happened on to me but he blinked, and then we were on our way to see Owen—“ Evelyn gasped. “No worries, I’m not one of his people. Anyway, I saw Sara and well, I had Toby bring me here.”
Jasmine turned, and started for the door, and as she reached it, Eric came up behind her. “I’d like to go with you.”
“And where am I going?”
“To release the women,” Eric answered.
Jasmine smiled. She had to admire his courage. It was obvious Eric never exercised a day in his life, and if it wasn’t for his good looks she didn’t think he’d ever have a date. Obviously meeting Eric was for other reasons that didn’t include a love affair. She nearly laughed and thought, Jim is safe for the moment. Other than those doe eyes there was nothing about Eric that attracted her.
Chapter 11
Following Jasmine’s instructions, Eric walked closely behind her. He held her Glock in his right hand pointing upward, while she held her Mossberg pointing at the door. She only had three grenades left and wanted to save as many as she could. Since the weapon was new to her, she was extremely overzealous and used it even though her pistols were sufficient. It was the same for the shotgun, and although she was a better shooter with her pistols, in the darkness and the harsh elements she felt safer using a wide blast. For the first time in her life she was nervous, even close to being frightened. The tarot cards played on her mind like a mosquito landing on the back of her neck biting her time and again. That damned death card over the nine of swords was starting to worry her and she wondered if she had done the right thing.
They stopped and Jasmine ever so cautiously eased the door open with the tip of her shotgun and cringed as the hinges let out a wretched squeal as if connected to an alarm system. She bounced back, expecting an onslaught.
Nothing.
Just as Eric started to speak, she held up her hand quieting him. She then pointed to the right side of the door. Then in two quick flashes, she fired into the door where a cry erupted from the other side. She then crouched down, banged through the door, and rolled to a crouch position looking for someone pointing something at her.
Inside lay a man who looked to be an old prospector in his seventies; however, upon closer examination he was nearer to his late thirties; possibly due to cannibalism, or due to the elements, but more likely both. He lay on his back, dead; half of his face ripped off from the headshot. Pieces of wooden shrapnel stuck out from what was left of his face in a porcupine fashion. Looking at him lying on the floor, she was surprised the pellets from the body shot penetrated the many layers of clothing. A large crimson patch darkened his chest.
She crept deeper into the room until she heard moans and soft sobs. She holstered the Mossberg and pulled her Glock, and used the attached flashlight, which she rarely utilized; that was the first place she’d shoot at when confronted by someone using a flashlight. She never failed a good hit, and often times it was a solid hit in the head. Although Tank knew this, he attached a flashlight to the top and laser to the bottom of the barrels anyway, thinking she’d use one or the other when the need required it.
Along the back wall were cages, and in each gage were two to three women. “Holy, shit,” Eric breathed and then hurried to the closest cage. When he opened it, two women crawled out. As Eric went from cage to cage, releasing the women, Jasmine continued a visual all the while thinking how badly she wanted to hurt Owen.
“You’ll take them with you, right?” Jasmine said more of as an order than a request.
“I was hoping we could go with you,” Eric responded.
“That’s not an option,” Jasmine said in an even more forceful tone.
Eric nodded. “With luck we’ll be in Oklahoma and you’ll be with Owen in a day or so.”
“How many vehicles work?” Jasmine asked one of the older women who looked as if she might have been a leader at one time.
“All of them. They’re under this building.” Jasmine looked around. “The entrance is around back,” the woman continued. “A small pickup, a van, a dozen or so motorcycles, plus a car. Enough to get us the hell out of here.”
She stared at the woman for a long beat and felt she could trust her. “Take me,” Jasmine said. To Eric, Jasmine continued, “Take them to your parents. Your father will know what to do.”
Jasmine followed the older woman back through the door she and Eric had come in and went around the back, which resembled a junk yard of old vehicles: cars, trucks, trailers and motorcycles. Parts were strewn about the ground, which to Jasmine looked more like a potential arsenal if a tornado touched down. Near the far end of the building was a ramp with an entrance—no doors—that led beneath the building.