If someone enters at this point, I’ll scurry back to the small room and hope the door closes before they can get to me. If I open the hall entryway and wedge it open, they won’t be able to open any of the doors to leave. I would take this as a sole option if I knew there weren’t others to be rescued somewhere inside this area. I smile thinking of them waking to find the door open and them not being able to get out. That would be worth putting a wireless camera on the wall and watching their actions.
Edging to the first lit door, I crouch by the entrance. I rise, about to glance in the window when the light dims causing my heart to skip a beat and pumps in a fresh supply of adrenaline. Someone is close to the other side. I cross low under the window to the hinge side and crouch a little more than a foot from the hinge. It wouldn’t do to be right behind the door if it opens as it could hit me. Being farther away allows the door to open wider before making contact.
The light in the window darkens further. Someone is drawing closer to the door. I’m hoping it isn’t a lot of them. Actually, I’m hoping no one comes through the door but if any do, a crowd of them is low on my wish list. I prop my M-4 against the wall next to me preferring to use my Beretta if anything happens close quarters.
The door begins to swing outward without the corresponding click of a mag lock being disengaged. They have somehow managed to unlock the cell doors. It stops and I see a head pass by the window. A man walks out into the room and the door begins its slow journey back. Only one man exits and he begins walking across the room carrying an AR-15-style carbine over his shoulder. If he turns for any reason, I’ll be in plain sight. I would let him go but for two reasons. I don’t want someone behind me but more importantly, he may be going to the other side. I am not in a good position for any alarm to be raised.
Tracking him with my 9mm, I pull my knife from the sheath strapped to my lower leg. The carbine shouldered at his back will interfere with a knife kill to that side so I keep the gun in my right hand and knife in my left. The door closes with a faint thud. I tense waiting for him to turn at the sound. There have been a few times I’ve come close to being caught by someone turning instinctively at an innocuous sound; even one they created. If he turns, I’ll have no choice but to fire even though it’s the louder option.
His head begins to turn. I tense; the sights of my handgun aimed firmly at his head. He turns back to the front without turning fully around and keeps walking. I relax and push away from the wall, check the window quickly to make sure it’s clear, and begin crouch-walking silently in his tracks. I close to just behind the man getting ready to rise and plunge my blade into his kidney.
“Dammit,” the man says almost under his breath and turns.
I swiftly rise as he turns jamming the end of my suppressor in the meaty portion under his chin and fire. The bullet crashes through the soft tissue of his mouth going through his tongue and into his upper palate. A section of his cranium explodes upward spewing part of the inside of his head into the air. The only noise is the sound of the slide racking back and sliding forward. The spent cartridge bounces across the floor a few times and comes to rest. The man crumples downward and I catch him under his arms before he can hit the ground. I drag him to the wall, deposit him in the shadows, wipe the end of my handgun on his shirt, and place my knife back in its sheath.
Returning to the door, I retrieve my M-4 and holster the 9mm. I would prefer to use my 9mm inside the rooms but the length of the hall and the chance of someone else emerging from a room dictates the use of something with a little more accuracy over a greater range. Plus, if the alarm is triggered and they come out enmasse, I’ll have an auto option. I clear the hall and slide inside. Peeking in the window of the first cell to my left, I see a man lying on a lower bunk with his hands behind his head staring straight up. He’s either lost in thought or asleep. I look in the window of the cell across the hall.
There, a man has his pants down and is bent over a naked woman kneeling at the side of a bunk. I have found one of the women. A sickness settles in my stomach and anger rises. I open the door just enough to slip inside. With the door only partially open and closing, the sound of my shots will be muffled even further. Both the man and the woman look my way. The woman is sobbing and whimpering. The man’s face registers first anger at being intruded upon and then shock as my carbine comes up.
My round enters the side of his head and exits the other coating the ruffled blankets and pillow in red. He crashes to the bunk beside the woman and slides to the floor. The young woman draws in a deep breath, ready to scream. I hold my fingers to my lips hoping to catch her scream in time. She bites off her scream and nods. Tears have made pathways down her face and her red eyes regard me. She exhales with a whimper; sniffing loudly once.
I double check that the man isn’t moving or emitting any noise. Holding my hands up and out to my side, not wanting to alarm the woman further, I take a step toward her. She hasn’t moved from her position and cowers into the bed.
“Ma’am, I’m not here to hurt you but I need you to get dressed and wait here until I return. I also need you to be very quiet. Can you do that?” I ask.
Her frightened, wide eyes continue to look at me fearfully but she nods. She looks over to the man on the floor and then begins searching the room for her clothes.
“Okay, good. Just be brave a moment longer and I’ll be back. I’ll get you out of here, I promise,” I say. She nods again and rises to her knees on the floor, covering her nakedness with her arms. She is sobbing quietly. I turn and exit the room heading across the hall.
The man is still resting with his hands behind his head and facing away from me. I ease the door open and slip inside. He turns his head toward the door and appears about to say something when my round slams into the top of his head. The bullet tears through his skull, the soft brain tissue, and then exits out of the lower part of his face, tearing his right jaw from its hinge. Blood sprays down the front of his shirt. His arms and leg twitch violently on the bed, becoming sporadic tremors and then he is still. His jaw lies at an angle to his head held on only by a portion of his cheek.
I head down the hall going room to room with similar scenes played out in each. The next wing plays out the same. I find one other woman and have her come with me after I clear the rooms. I take her to where the first woman is now sitting dressed and on the bunk with her arms around her drawn-up knees. She flinches as I enter but calms immediately when she sees me. Tears still run down her face. Both women are a wreck and rightfully so. I figure it will be better for them to be together. I tell them to stay put and the woman I just brought sits on the bunk and they wrap their arms around each other’s shoulders.
Replacing my mag, I clear the third wing in a similar manner. Apparently the men retired to their rooms for the night and aren’t wondering around. Most are asleep or close to it when I enter. Each and every one of them are now experiencing the first few moments of their afterlife. I find a third young woman, the wife of the man who was beaten, and bring her to the other two after having to spend some extra time calming her down. It took a few minutes to convince her I wasn’t one of the others.
I step out into the main room and look upward to the fourth floor where light shows from a door to one of the wings. There’s a fourth woman and I’m guessing she’s up there. I haven’t run across preacher man or any of his entourage yet so I’m guessing they are taking residence above.
This one may be a little trickier, I think looking upward. If they’re his personal body guard, they may be more alert. At least some of them will be. I feel tired and dirty. I know my face must look like a mess as I felt several splashes against it from some of the men, using the term loosely here, as I took them out. When I get home to Cabela’s, I’m taking the longest shower of my life. It will be measured in days.