“I’m surprised they had a garage under the building… if anything were to happen they’d lose their food source,” the older woman said in a tone filled with hate and anger. “Take me with you; I want to help you kill the son of a bitch.”
A harsh wind raced behind the building, kicking up dust and debris. Something cried out in the night. One of the women, Jasmine thought. A faint roar rumbled like a freight train in the distance.
As they crept down the ramp and into the darkened entrance, Jasmine handed the woman the same pistol Eric had carried. The woman two fisted the pistol as if she had experience using a handgun, keeping it pointed toward the ground and away from Jasmine. She acted as if she had special training, police maybe. She also had a look that said she would not hesitate pulling the trigger. She then went to the left of the entrance. Following her lead, Jasmine went to the right.
They stood by the entryway, peering into near-black darkness. Jasmine then peered into her mind’s eye and after a long moment, she pointed to the pickup. She knelt down to a crouch, and then down to her stomach. Pulling with her elbows, she crawled deeper into the garage. The older woman followed and crawled into the darkness behind her, stopping short when Jasmine touched the woman’s head. Jasmine then twisted toward the woman and lightly breathed, “There’s two in the bed of the pickup.” The woman nodded. “And a third over by the bikes… you do him but stay down until I shoot.” The woman nodded and crawled in the direction of the bikes.
The two women reached the bottom of the ramp at nearly the same time, and both rose into a crouch position. “Hey, assholes,” Jasmine shouted. When the two men stood, Jasmine took them out, two shots in rapid succession, before they could get a bead on her. When the man hiding behind the motorcycles stood to take Jasmine out, the woman shot him.
The percussion and screams raced up the ramp and out into the harsh wind. After a long moment, silence followed the screams up the ramp, disappearing out the door. A tornado roared off in the distance, reminding everyone how vulnerable they all were.
The two stayed crouched in the darkness for another couple of minutes, waiting to see if someone else would appear.
Jasmine stood first, and slowly went deeper into the garage. The older woman followed.
“You’ve had training,” Jasmine said, turning to the woman. “Law Enforcement or Army?”
“Oklahoma police. The platoon was captured and taken down so fast we didn’t know what hit us,” the woman answered. “Corporal Angela Tanner.”
“Please to meet you, sir,” Jasmine said, and then in a casual manner saluted her.
“They brought most of the women and half the men here. Seems Owen is a chicken shit and only takes weak or injured men and kids. From what I understand, whoever does the take down keeps most of the women,” Angela said while offhandedly acknowledging the salute. Out here under these conditions formalities didn’t matter much.
Angela went deeper into the garage and found the electric ignition switch, and turned on the lanterns. “These bastards are smart; I have to give them that. They’ve been living outside since the impact, and very few of them have died off. None from the elements—” she laugh inwardly, “Although I’ve heard Owen has a pick every now and then when his supplies run low.”
Angela pointed to a set of double doors. “In that room is enough food to feed these people for at least five years, why they turned cannibal mystifies me. They fed us well, and not one bite of human flesh…”
“Well, if you think about it, our normal diet consists of animals that do not eat animals, maybe they have the same thought when it comes to cannibalism,” Jasmine wondered aloud with a shrug.
“And that door there,” Angela continued, “is a room full of weapons, more than you can imagine.” She shook her head in disbelief. “When I get back and we’re sure this place is clear of assholes like these we’ll come back for the weapons—”
“And food,” Jasmine cut in. “Or advertise that there is food here and it can be used as an outpost.”
“Outpost,” Angela said more to herself. “Not a bad idea… especially since the tornadoes seem to bounce all around this place but never on it. For the last nine months I counted over thirty tornadoes go by and not one veered in this direction. It’s the same for Owen’s place.”
“Funny how that is… New weather pattern, I suppose,” said Jasmine as they walked the room, checking out the vehicles, determining what she should do next. She turned to Angela and said, “If you come with me, we split the bounty, fifty-fifty. But if you come with me, I won’t take your orders.”
“Officer Jasmine Cooper, your reputation precedes you,” Angela said in a serious military manner. “I want to make it home, alive. You lead, I follow, and we kill the son of a bitch. Deal?”
“Those two crotch rockets,” Jasmine said, nodding toward to two BSA 650 Super Bikes hidden in the corner. “We should be able to outrun a tornado and make it to Owen in no time.”
“Let’s get these vehicles topside and the women loaded and on their way,” Angela said, smiling with eyes that showed pure hatred. She looked as if she was thinking this was going to be fun.
It was then that Jasmine seemed to recognize her. She had met or seen her before.
Chapter 12
In a room inside the garage were more weapons than Jasmine had ever seen. Whenever the small band of outlaws was able to capture someone, they kept everything. The weapons and gear were in pristine condition as if they were proud of their souvenirs. The room also had shelves and drawers filled to capacity with money, jewelry, clothes, shoes, anything they felt was worth keeping, anything that at one time had a value and would maybe have a value once reconstruction started.
There were four other female Gendarmerie Police Officers captured and incarcerated when Angela Tanner’s platoon was taken down, and their weapons and gear were stored in the room. The women, along with the Cotter family, were fully armed and outfitted for defense and the elements. The four police officers had grown since captured and the elements no longer frightened them. Nor did Owen and his men. Angela had given them orders to shoot first, and then evaluate the situation. When they were captured, they were ambushed when they stopped to help a woman who looked trapped beneath a jeep. Not one officer kept a good visual while trying to dig the woman out. After they were captured, they realized the woman was simply lying beneath a staged accident. Afterwards, the woman was sent to Owen along with the men. Toby had discovered that the woman was incapable of bearing children and Owen had taken a liking to her for other reasons. Toby was ecstatic to please his master.
Jasmine and Angela sat on their BSA’s and watched as the small caravan disappeared into the darkness. Angela watched as her four friends and subordinates protected the rest of the group as if they were protecting their family. One of her teammates was badly wounded when they were captured but not badly enough to be spared being raped repeatedly and made pregnant. She delivered a small, premature, undernourished boy three weeks ago that was immediately taken to Owen.
“The odds of that baby being alive is slim to none,” Jasmine said as she keyed her rocket and cranked it over.
“We know that,” Angela answered, “but that doesn’t mean we don’t look for the bastard who killed him, cooked him, and ate him, even if it’s not one and same person. Clear?”
“Roger that.”
Jasmine was taken aback when Angela checked her pistol. It was an exact duplicate of hers. “My baby brother made it for me,” Angela said, smiling, noticing that Jasmine was eyeing the pistol. “He made two for you and one for me. Sent it to me just before we took off. It is a remarkable piece of work if I say so myself.”