Darren and Marcus Wearmouth
SECOND ACTIVATION
1
In my peripheral vision, I saw Jack’s arm rise to meet Ron’s handshake. As it carried on in an upward motion past the height of Ron’s chest, I turned to look.
Jack pulled the trigger.
At the ear-splitting crack of the Ruger, I blinked hard and focused back on Ron.
He tried to speak. His lips quivered and his mouth erratically opened and closed. He looked up at the ceiling. A thin stream of blood, running from the forehead entry wound, momentarily pooled in his twitching left eye before rolling down his cheek.
Ron’s legs buckled. He collapsed lifelessly to the ground. His head slammed with a dull thud onto the tiles at my feet, and his left leg twitched.
Jack stood motionless. A wisp of smoke curled from his pistol, still raised and pointing at a now blood-spattered cupboard. Lea stared open-mouthed.
I looked down at Ron. The round had blown out a fist-sized chunk of skull as it exited, confirming he wouldn’t be getting back up, even though it appeared that he was still breathing.
Twisting toward the kitchen door, I waited for the inevitable sound of gunfire that would accompany the guards when they burst through.
“What the hell have you done?” Lea asked.
She rushed over to Ron and knelt over his body. I edged over to Jack and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Are you okay? Jack?”
He lowered the pistol and stared into my eyes. “Sorry, I couldn’t…”
“It’s done Jack. We were never leaving here anyway.”
Lea stood and slowly shook her head. I unhooked a bunch of keys off Ron’s chinos, identified the long, thin one for the cuffs, and freed her wrists. She caressed the red marks and inhaled sharply.
Perhaps the goons were circling and coming in slow. I strained to hear any sound outside the kitchen but couldn’t detect anything. Jack looked quizzically at me. He gestured with his head toward a back entrance.
I scrambled to the window. A neatly manicured grassed area, a couple of old tires in the corner, and a chain-link fence that formed the boundary to the rear of the property, but crucially, no guards.
“What’s beyond the fence, Lea?” I asked.
“Oh my God. Martina’s gonna think I killed Ron. I need to speak to her,” she said.
“You’ll never see her again if we can’t get out of this mess. Concentrate: What’s the ground like beyond Ron’s garden? Can we get out that way?”
“There’s a marsh that leads to the river. It’s open country. Why aren’t they here yet?”
“We can’t escape through the back door,” Jack said. “With machine guns at both ends of the road, they’ll easily cut us down in the open.”
He took up a firing position and aimed his pistol at the interior entrance. “They’ll be coming. Mark my words.”
I rummaged through the kitchen drawers, pulled out a carving knife, and positioned myself against the wall, out of sight to anyone who approached via the front door.
“Is that all we have?” Lea asked.
“No guns in Ron’s house—you should know that,” Jack said.
We waited silently and braced for the expected assault or a shout to drop our weapons. I tried to imagine what was happening outside. Our chances of survival hung on the general incompetence of the enemy. So far, they’d proven to be far from Special Forces material.
“We need to create a diversion. Any ideas?” I asked. “Quickly—the Genesis Alliance goons are probably sealing off the perimeter or planning a house clearance.”
I watched the digital clock on Ron’s wall flicker and change to 11:02. My hand cramped from squeezing the knife, and I loosened my grip. The longer we failed to act, the less were our chances of survival. I was sure of that.
“We could pretend we’ve taken Ron hostage,” Lea said.
“That won’t work. They’ll want to see him alive.”
“What if I stagger out, pretending I’ve been shot?” Jack said. “You could say Ron wants me to go for treatment?”
“They won’t fall for that. We’d be instantly heavily outnumbered and outgunned. Besides, after what Ron said about his house rules…”
Ron’s retro control panel clicked, and an internal fan started to whir inside it. Its speaker crackled and squelched. I ran over to inspect the panel, brushing my hand over the buttons and switches, but pulled it away at the thought of accidentally triggering a second activation.
“You think they’ve frozen?” Jack said.
“It’s possible, or they’re laying siege.”
Jack edged toward the internal door and looked around it. “It’s now or never. We need to move.”
I decided to take the initiative in case something bigger and badder than the goons outside was on its way. “Wait here until I call out; I’m going to take a look.”
“Look where?” Lea asked.
“There’s none at the back, so they must be out front. I’ll try and find out their positions. At the moment I can’t think of any other plan.”
“I’ll watch the back,” Jack said. “If you see any danger, come straight back. If we’re going down, we’ll do it here.”
“This is crazy, guys. We need to give ourselves up. We’re surrounded,” Lea said.
Jack put his finger to his lips. I ignored Lea and gently pushed open the door to get a view of the living area. The room remained exactly as we had left it.
I turned to shake my head at Jack, then leopard-crawled across the lush cream carpet to the front window. Below the window, with my back against the wall, I listened. After hearing no sounds, I raised my head and peered through the sheer curtain.
The immediate vicinity looked deserted apart from the Range Rover we’d arrived in, still parked at an angle opposite the house. I raised the curtain from the bottom and glanced up and down the street. There appeared to be no threat in either direction as far as my angle of vision would allow me to see.
“Jack, Lea—get over here quickly!” I shouted.
Both came through the living-room entrance in a crouching run and joined me, ducking below the window, with their backs against the wall.
“What’s going on?” Jack asked.
I gestured toward the street. “No idea—take a look.”
He pulled the curtain to one side and craned his neck. “I can’t see anyone. Do you think they’ve taken cover?”
“An ambush?” Lea said.
It didn’t make sense. The guards had been all over us less than ten minutes ago. I knew the Genesis Alliance members we’d previously come across weren’t trained soldiers, but the ones around the house appeared more experienced or better trained. Their inconsistent nature meant I couldn’t tell what to expect. A potential opportunity presented itself, and I decided to take it with both hands.
“I’m going to scout outside,” I said. “Jack, you search the house for anything useful. If we’re clear, we make a break for the Range Rover. There’s no way I’m waiting in this house like a sitting duck. Our best chance is to make a run for it.”
Jack immediately ran to an adjacent door in the hallway.
“What about me?” Lea asked.
“Keep looking through the window. If you see any movement—anything—shout. If I draw fire, try to ascertain the location.”
She feverishly nodded and raised the curtain.
I crept toward the front entrance, keeping down to avoid throwing a silhouette in front of the frosted glass door panel. The brass handle turned easily, and I twisted the latch.
I took a deep breath, mentally counted to three, and pulled the door open a few inches. The noise of a reversing engine echoed in the distance. I sprang out and hugged the exterior wall.
Toward the west end of Oak Street, I caught a brief glimpse of a black Range Rover turning and disappearing to the right.