He pushed himself up from the ground and tried to shake the wakefulness from his brain. He stared at the back door of the liquor store and knew that the only thing that would quiet the demons was inside that building.
If he had a rocket launcher, he’d flatten the place and sift the remains for the few remaining intact bottles. But he didn’t have a rocket launcher.
Simon pulled himself to his feet and stumbled around to the front of the building. He stared at the front doors and leveled his pistol again. “Fuck it.” He no longer cared if the Ragers heard him. He fired at the glass closest to the lock.
The plastic dimpled and formed a white circle. He stepped closer and fired again. And again. And again. Each round dimpled the plastic glass and left a white mark. He stepped closer and planted his booted foot to the damaged glass, praying that he’d weakened it enough to crack.
“Screw this shit.” He slid back behind the wheel of the SUV and revved the engine. He pulled the 4X4 lever to four wheel low then put the SUV in drive. He felt the front wheels bump up onto the curb and he lined up the front of the car with the double glass doors.
With a determined screech, he floored the accelerator and watched as the entire doorframe blew inward. He slammed on the brakes and shifted the car into reverse.
Once it was back on the street he threw the machine into park and killed the engine. He only gave the front a cursory glance before pushing the double doors out of the way and stepping into the gloom. “If any of you sons of bitches are hiding in here, I’m telling ya now…I’m not in the mood for your shit!”
He pulled his pistol then walked deeper into the store. He saw the row of cheap whiskeys, bourbons and scotches lining the shelf on the wall. Simon smiled to himself, tears forming as he grabbed the nearest bottle and twisted the cap off.
Chapter 16
Hatcher rode with Roger while Hank and Wally loaded magazines. He glanced to the rear and saw the minivan following, three more men within. “Remember, he may or may not be doped up. Either way, consider him armed and dangerous.”
“Are we taking prisoners, Hatch?” Wally asked.
Hatcher considered letting Simon live. He glanced to Roger who gave a slight shake of the head. “No.”
“Good,” Hank stated flatly. “I’ll sleep better at night knowing that bastard is six feet under.” He paused and looked to Wally. “Not that I’d actually bury him.”
Wally snorted. “Maybe we bring him back for that new guy’s little girl.”
All three of the other men gave him a strained look. “You’re not serious,” Hank asked.
“No. It was supposed to be a joke, not a dick. Don’t take it so hard.”
Hatcher sighed and sat up in his seat. “Up there. That’s the cul-de-sac.”
Roger slowed the truck and pulled into the dead end street. “Looks like the rest of the neighborhood.”
Hatcher nodded. “Yeah…dead.”
Roger pulled the truck to the side of the street and parked three houses down. He stepped from the truck and Wally handed him a rifle. “Round chambered, safety on.”
Roger nodded and shouldered the weapon. “Form up on me. Standard two by two formation.”
Hatcher slipped in next to him and Hank and Wally formed the rear. They waved to the three men behind them and pointed to the rear of the house. They broke away and slipped through the neighboring house’s yard.
“Let’s do this.” Roger lead the way and Hatcher kept pace with him as they approached the front of the house. Hatcher waved Hank and Wally into the open garage and they waited until Hank gave them the signal. Both teams entered the house at the same moment, clearing rooms as they went.
Hatcher stacked on the stairs and when Roger appeared next to him, the pair silently made their way up to the second level. With each room, one or the other would announce it clear.
Hatcher felt his hands trembling from the adrenaline burst and wanted to scream when they realized that Simon wasn’t there. He went downstairs and checked on the crew covering the rear. “Anything?”
“Negative. The only movements are from the wind.”
Hatcher sighed and waved them inside. “He’s not here.” He cursed and kicked a chair out of his way. “We can’t even know if he ever was.”
Roger held up a nearly empty bottle of rum. “This fits the guy’s story. He said they doped the booze.” He held it up to the window and nodded. “There’s something floating along the bottom.”
Hatcher groaned and looked around the room. “It’s obvious that somebody was here. Once.” He pointed to the blood stains around the kitchen table. “He said the convict had been shot. Maybe this is his.”
Roger sighed and leaned against the wall. “What do you want to do? We can wait here and see if he comes back.” He glanced out the window. “Or we can hole up in one of the other houses and ambush him when he pulls in.”
Hatcher chewed at his lower lip. “I really want this bastard.”
“Not more than I do,” Roger added. “Remember, I had to ride with him.”
Hatcher nodded, his mind racing. He turned and pointed to Hank. “Take everybody back. Roger and I will hang tight here.”
“You’re gonna wait here? In his house?”
Hatcher glanced to Roger then back to Hank. “In the area, anyway. If he isn’t back by dark, we’ll head in.”
Hank groaned. “Fine. But keep your radio on. If you run into trouble…”
“We’ll call.” Hatcher winked at him and slapped his shoulder as he walked by. He turned to Roger. “Shall we hide the truck?”
“May as well.” Roger walked back out into the bright midday sun. “We can tuck it into a garage or in
