Wentworth looked back at the compound, “Before I’m ready, I’ve got to do a cloverleaf around the building. Check it out on the other three sides… shit, one of them’s out there, isn’t he? The one that stomped off?” He grimaced. “Whatever. I’ll deal with him if I have to. I need you to stay here and keep an eye on things — I shouldn’t be much more than an hour. You going to be okay with that?”
“I’ll manage.”
Wentworth stole off, and Raxx was alone.
Chapter 11
The stars rippled silently against their backdrop, while the bonfire glowed gently as it died. The earth ticked and chirped with the small noises of insects, while back down the hill a branch swayed in the breeze. Raxx had gone into a fugue, waiting so long, silently, as the Hellhounds retired one by one and he waited for Wentworth to return. The moon glowed eerily.
Something began rising above the noise floor — rustling sounds.
He jolted out of his reverie as Wentworth slid in beside him.
“Yeah, I know, they’ve all gone to sleep — except for those two. Anything else? Any of them take off?” He put his rifle down on the grass, and rubbed his hands together.
“Uh, no, I—”
“Good. I took care of the one that left earlier; he was set up watching their Western arc for some reason. Never thought anyone would be coming from the East.”
“I didn’t hear any shooting—”
“One sec, it’s too open here. Back down the hill, then we talk.”
Wentworth disappeared. Raxx rolled on his side. Pins and needles shot through his extremities, and a cool breeze washed over his chest as he backed down the hill. He smelled the tobacco before reaching the gulley. Wentworth was leaning back against the slope with a cigarette hidden in the palm of his hand.
“Always try and smoke one before going in. You never know if it’ll be your last. If you’re going to light your own, just make sure to cover up the flame.”
“I’ll pass.”
Raxx could hear the grin in his voice. “Used to know a guy that’d hide the cherry in the hollow of his rifle’s pistol-grip. Don’t think that’ll be necessary just now, though.” He took a heavy drag and blew the smoke upwards.
“What happened with the guy that wandered off?”
“He was busy watching his arcs. Never heard me coming. Slit his throat. He tussled for a bit, but that was it. I had his mouth covered. Anything new on your end? I saw them all heading in when they decided to crash — that’s why I took so long. I watched them to make sure.”
“That was pretty much it. They left two guys on guard, and the rest went to sleep.”
“Then all we’ve got to worry about is their relief — but that shouldn’t be for a few hours. Okay, here’s what I got: the other side of the building’s free and clear. They’re all concentrated on this end, just inside that rolling door. The front’s nothing but a bunch of loading-bays; four of ’em. Through ’em are some long parking stalls and equipment stations; good cover that the Hellhounds seem to be ignoring.
“Now, just inside that rolling door you had your eyes on, is a pair of steel doors on the back wall. That’s where they were all going when they crashed. I think they’re sleeping just inside; it looked like a big room, and they seemed to be hanging out. You got that?”
Raxx nodded.
“They only put out the three guards, so they’re not expecting any trouble. The two who’re playing cards are just there to keep an eye on the prisoners. We got a major element of surprise. Think that C4 of yours will make it through steel?”
Raxx took a second to catch up. “The double-doors are locked?”
“Nah, probably not. I just want to give them a wake-up call.”
“Uh, yeah — it should. I can form it so it’ll do that.”
“Alright — here, I’ll tell you the specifics, but all you’ve really got to remember is to follow my lead, and keep that buckshot going downrange.”
They hashed out the details for a few more minutes, then he crushed his cigarette under his heel. “Just remember: speed and aggression will get us through this. Let’s move.”
He led them on a path that circled around to the southern road. They darted across it, and stayed in the shadows as they approached the front gate.
The quads were lined up, blocking the entrance; enough to keep the cattle in, but easy for them to slip by. They rose from the roadside ditch and broke into a bent-kneed run. The gravel crunched under their feet as they moved towards the left-most bay door, harnesses and equipment jingling, hearts pounding.
They reached it — out of the moonlight, into the black. Their footfalls slapped flatly against the concrete as they slid in and crouched behind one of the counters separating the bays.
Wentworth indicated for Raxx to stay still. His mouth felt thirsty, and he was hyper-aware of his magazine’s weight. Laying down by the edge, he darted his head out for a moment, then pulling back. When there was no response, he popped out again, and examined it in detail.
The warehouse was full of broken machinery. Trenches were cut out of the grease-stained floor, running under each parking stall, with steel walkways spanning them. Along the back — the wall with the sleeping quarter’s double-doors — were stacks upon stacks of yellow barrels. Wentworth had turned off his Datapad a while back, and was left wondering what his Geiger Counter would say about this. Through the western garage door came the sounds of the two guards, laughing over their card game. He spent a few moments re-examining of his plans, then pulled back into a kneeling position. He gave Raxx a nod, and they started moving; weapons ready, with careful steps.
His eyes were alive, scouring for booby traps, pitfalls, and obstacles. They made it to the double-door without incident. He looked sharply at the Mechanic then took a step forward, kneeling and putting a defensive bead on the eastern exit.
Raxx placed his shotgun on the dusty floor, and unslung his bag. Searching through its contents he laid out the C4, Det cord, and timer. A melange of caution and urgency left his movements ragged as he molded the explosive. He squeezed the clay-like substance with his fingers, applying a gentle pressure. His apprehension grew by the second. Ears straining as he imagined someone on the side, preparing to exit.
He reached down, scrambling with his hand, until he found the Det cord. He pressed the knots deep into each block, and knotted the lines together. His fingers were cold, greasy with the plastic material. The primer next — then the timing cord; thirty seconds worth. Explosives set, he reshouldered his backpack and tapped Wentworth’s shoulder. The man looked back, and Raxx nodded.
Raxx pulled out his lighter, flicking it on the end of the timer. A whiff of sulphur filled the air as it caught. He retrieved his shotgun and began counting. “
Wentworth’s chest tightened, and he stepped outside. Cold moonlight washed over him as his weapon drew a bead. Behind him the heavy footfalls of the Mechanic. Moving forward, he squeezed down on the trigger.
The crack shattered hours of silence. Shock registered on one card-player’s face as he lurched in pain. Raxx’s shotgun boomed and the other died instantly, as his collar bone exploded in gristle. A double crack from Wentworth put the other one down, jerking him back, then forward as blood and bone chips blew out the back of his head. The bodies collapsed into puddles, and the partners stopped moving.
Silence — then a confused, terrified wail began from the caged villagers out back.
Without a word, they remustered by the garage door—
The C4’s blast shook the earth, flashed the warehouse with light, and made them flinch as the sonic impact washed over them.
“Now! Move!”
