Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait for the men to back off, the three of them came under heavy gunfire from two guys outfitted in ballistic vests, helmets, and military fatigues. One of them motioned to him with a hook of the thumb. “Go. Move it!”
Colby and Paul double-timed it out from behind the dumpster. Colby opened fire on another guy that poked his head up on one of the roofs, sending him back down. As they came running out onto 5th Street, a third guy, young, no older than twenty-five, was holding position near a lamppost. He waved them over and they sprinted to an open door.
Like a wave pulling back from the shore, the men retreated inside.
Out of breath, Colby scanned new faces.
A large fella, the one Paul referred to as Jackson, approached.
He was pure muscle. His body looked like it had been stitched into his army fatigues. He was carrying an M4 and wearing a black baseball cap.
“You two have to be delivering one hell of an important message or you’re out of your mind. So which is it?” While he waited for them to catch their breath and answer, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, and the three young guys headed up a stairwell. He heard boots on the stairs. They were heading out onto the roof, back into the heat of battle.
“Neither. I was told a woman and dog came here.”
“Then you were told wrong. It’s just my family and me.” He extended his hand. “Jackson Hartridge, and you are?”
“Colby Riker.” This time when he said his name, he knew it was true.
“Welcome to the fight.”
TWENTY-FOUR Alicia
Merced County
It had been a hellish couple of days. They were now at a temporary emergency center in the middle of the fairgrounds of Los Banos. Supplies were provided in clear bags. Nothing more than a few animal crackers, roasted peanuts, and an MRE, a beef taco. Everyone got a bottle of water.
Alicia shared what little food she had with Kane.
All around her, people were laid out on military-style cots inside white Red Cross tents.
Families. Singles. Old. Young.
She emptied the animal crackers on the grass, and Kane made a quick meal of it, wolfing it down in seconds. It seemed ironic that the dog who had caught her was the same one that helped her escape. She’d begun to see why Colby had such a strong attachment to him.
Colby.
Alicia felt a lump in her throat.
She couldn’t even go there in her mind.
So much had happened since the night of the breakdown.
While she wasn't harmed, her life had been threatened multiple times, as was Kane’s, especially after he tore into their captors as they dragged Colby away.
Had she not intervened, that could have bought him a one-way ticket to heaven. It was also because of that dog, that she’d agreed to go quietly. What they had in store for her was unknown but she’d seen the way the other girls were treated — stripped down, made to fill bags with heroin and coke. Some of the feisty among them had drugs injected into their arm to ensure compliance. It was easier to control a doped-up woman than a crazed one. Others, the rowdy and uncompliant, were shot in front of them and dragged out like their lives meant nothing. A few were taken into rooms for some of the armed guards.
She heard screams.
Alicia caught on fast.
However, for her, they had other plans.
In some ways, she had Delores and Matthew to thank for pulling her out of that hellhole, and then dipping her into another. Until the couple arrived, they’d thrown her in a room with the others, tied Kane to a post, and given him very little food or water. A few of the men even tossed empty cans at him to get the dog riled up.
For some unknown reason, maybe it had been because she’d stepped in front of him when one of them took out a gun to shoot the dog — Kane had started to listen to her.
A few times, she’d contemplated using the attack command but with so many armed men around, it would have been too dangerous so she’d waited until they were transferred to Gustine, to that filthy wreckers’ yard.
Out of the frying pan into the fire. It was terrible.
Matthew had taken a liking to her. He’d told the guy with the spider tattoo that he could use her, put her to work in Gustine. They’d even agreed to take the dog out of his hair because she said she wouldn’t go without him.
Upon arrival, the rules were given.
“Do as we say and you’ll get two meals a day. You will not speak back. You will not argue. You will not look us in the eye.” They had all these rules. Absurd rules. But she’d followed them. Biding her time. Waiting for the right moment. At night they chained her inside an 18-wheeler. By day, they kept her on a close leash like a pet. Kane was placed with the other two dogs, to be used as a guard dog. Though that never happened. With Colby gone, he’d just lay there, unmoving. Refusing to lift his head. Almost begging to be put out of his misery so he could join his master.
She’d been told in no uncertain words that Colby was dead.
He was gone, and that was it, and if she continued to ask, or cause trouble, she’d feel the back of his hand. Matthew had already lifted it to her a few times.
In the day, she worked in the shop with Matthew. Soldering parts,
