FORSAKEN: THE SYSTEMIC SERIES (26 page)

Through their front entrance that had now been blasted open, Jake could see more men filtering between the houses across the street.  But he had bigger problems.  The men just outside their compound were laying down a ferocious amount of fire, and now that the door was down, Jake had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before the attackers gathering outside made a direct assault upon the station.  They were just waiting until they had their men in place and numbers on their side. 

Jake didn’t like it, but again, he had to trust Ava’s plan; it was their only hope.

The barrier they’d created of sandbags and steel plates just inside the pump station’s entrance was being riddled with bullets from outside, but his men were continuing to return fire from around the building.  Suddenly he saw a puff of smoke from the street, and a second later, an intense explosion erupted somewhere above them.  The firing from the rooftop ceased.  He wondered if Ava was okay, but there wasn’t time for checking on her now.  Jake knew that she could take care of herself.

One of his men at the front door rocked back hard onto the floor, a bullet hole in his forehead.  Jake reached down and grabbed the man’s assault rifle, aiming out the front door and squeezing the trigger until the weapon’s magazine was empty and then throwing it back to the floor.  He saw a man outside dash across the front lawn, angling towards the cover of the building’s front exterior wall.  Jake swung his own rifle around on the shoulder strap upon which it hung and fired, cutting the man down in mid-stride. 

An intense fire was now being directed at the entrance of the building from the street, causing Jake and his men to have to crouch for cover behind their barriers, holding their weapons just above their sheltered positions to fire.  After a moment, Jake peeked his head overtop the sandbags and saw a group of six more men moving towards them across the lawn.  He was able take down one of them, but the others made it to the cover of the building’s exterior wall.  Seconds later, a grenade rolled in the front door.

“
Grenade!
” Jake yelled, hitting the deck.

The explosion ripped through the building’s entry hall, tearing into the sandbags and blasting some of them over onto the men.  They hurriedly worked to replace them as best they could. 

Just as they got their barrier halfway back together, two more grenades rolled in.

The ensuing blast was devastating.  Two of Jake’s men who were still working to finalize the repairs to their bulwarks were torn apart, and Jake and two more of his men were hurled backwards down the entry hallway. 

Jake opened his eyes to a scene of chaos.  He was stunned, dazed; he looked around him.  The man next to him was bleeding from the mouth and ears.  A lone arm lay beside him.  He moved the fingers on each of his hands to make sure it wasn’t his own and then did a visual double-check.  Another man next to him was struggling to stand, but kept falling in the blood that now covered the floor a slippery mess.

As Jake struggled to stand, he turned to look at the front entry.  As the smoke began to clear, he could see men pouring through it and more out on the lawn moving towards the doorway.

“
JOHNNY!
” he screamed.

From the side room inside which most of the drug addicts were still firing away like madmen, Johnny Switchblade appeared.  He whipped a throwing knife at the first attacker to enter the building, hitting the man in the neck.  The man went down, spraying a hail of bullets in the process. 

As Jake moved to avoid the gunfire, he slipped, going down hard on the floor, landing in the ooze of blood and body parts it had become.

Meanwhile, Switchblade pulled a handgun and fired continuously, hitting the next man through the door and killing him instantly while wounding the man just behind him.  But there were just too many of them.  The fourth man in line hit Switchblade in his mid-section like a linebacker, just as he ran out of ammo.  They both went down to the floor.

One of the addicts stepped into the doorway to assist but was immediately gunned down before he could get a shot off.

Jake scrambled to stand, again slipping in the blood and gore, but eventually making it to his feet.  He let loose with a full magazine, temporarily clearing the doorway of attackers.  He pulled the empty magazine from his weapon and searched for another but found none.

He frantically felt around his body for another magazine; then, realizing that he was out, pulled his backup piece.  Another attacker appeared at the doorway and Jake fired, hitting the man, but he kept coming.  Jake kept firing until the man finally dropped and he was again out of ammo.

He threw his gun to the floor and prepared for the end.  From the corner of his eye, he saw Johnny Switchblade, still grappling with the man who had tackled him.  The man seemed to have the upper hand and had his hands around Switchblade’s neck, squeezing the life out of him.  But Jake knew better.  He watched as Switchblade’s free hand moved down to a holster attached to the side of his leg.  In an instant it was all over, the handle of a four-inch blade protruding from the side of the attacker’s neck.

Switchblade rolled the man off him and onto the floor, pulling the knife from his neck in the process.  As he did so, five more men entered the doorway.

Suddenly there was an intense explosion outside.  Jake and Switchblade hit the deck. A second later, a deafening hail of gunfire from the hallway behind them ripped into the men who had just entered through the doorway.  Several of the men were hit, several more ducked for cover behind the sandbag emplacement near them.

It was Ava and the Kill King. 

“Hit the deck!”
screamed Ava as she threw a grenade into the doorway.

The attackers saw the grenade and bolted back outside.  The ensuing blast killed two of them and picked the last few up like ragdolls, tossing them back out onto the pump station’s grass and gravel lawn.

Ava and Kill King slipped and skidded their way over and helped Jake to his feet, guiding him to the entry doorway. 

The trio stumbled over dead bodies and debris, pausing to help Johnny Switchblade to his feet as they walked to the front door.

Outside, they could see men from the Three Families running back towards the houses across the street amid an onslaught of explosions and gunfire.

Ava’s plan had worked perfectly, and they had caught their enemy unprepared for their double-flanking maneuver which had been carried out with near perfect timing, just as the invaders were focused primarily on overrunning the pump station and delivering the death blow to Jake and his men.

Ava’s radio call had reached the Strykers at the critical moment.  The two armored vehicles that had patiently been waiting under cover about a half mile behind the station had split up, one making a wide and sweeping advance around the attackers on the left side of the building while the other moved to the right.  Along the way, one armored vehicle joined with Mad Dog and his reserves while the other joined forces with Rambo and his men.  The Strykers led the way, sweeping in from each side of the street at the front side of the pump station, in effect, pinning many of the attackers between the station itself and their deadly fire.  The Stryker armed with the grenade launcher took out several of the machinegun-armed pickups while the other Stryker used its 7.62 millimeter machine gun to rake the perimeter, gunning down attackers as they scrambled for cover or just plain ran away.  Meanwhile, Mad Dog and Rambo followed in their armored pickups and SUV on cleanup duty, mopping up any stragglers. 

Any remaining attackers – of which there were few – either fled through the empty lots surrounding the pump station or back between the houses through which they’d arrived.

* * *

There was little celebrating the amazing victory that Jake, Ava, and their men had achieved.  The pump station was literally destroyed and was now useless as a base of operations.  Its perimeter fencing was in shambles; the entry door had been obliterated, and there were gapping holes throughout its exterior walls.  As the remnants of the Three Families’ men dispersed, inventory was taken of the losses on both sides.

Ava was both saddened, yet somewhat relieved to discover that both Brownie and Blondie – who had both been stationed on the second floor – had been killed.  Brownie had two bullet wounds to the chest, Blondie one to the head.  Ava felt for the two men, but at the same time, it took care of a problem that had been bothering her.  Brownie and Blondie were the only two people – now that she’d sent Bushy on his own private mission – besides her who had some idea of her plan and who had met her contacts down south.  This concerned Ava since they weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, and she realized that loose lips could sink ships.  Even just an unwitting slip of the tongue while under the influence or otherwise could have sunk her ship with Jake for sure.  But now, with them both dead, she didn’t have to concern herself with such things.

Added to the list of casualties were four more of their personal army dead and three wounded, not including the battered and bruised Jake, Ava, Johnny Switchblade, and the Kill King.  One of the wounded men had a gunshot wound to the right arm, another had taken shrapnel to the left hand, and still another had been hit in the head by a large chunk of flying brick and had a concussion and massive scalp laceration.       

Of the addicts they’d collected for the fight, four were still alive, which wasn’t bad considering their skill and the overall condition in which they’d fought.

Meanwhile, they counted 22 of the enemy killed, and six wounded.  These six were quickly added to the kill count for a grand total of 28.  Jake and Ava guessed that there were likely more wounded who had escaped, but they had no idea of just how many.

“
Rambo!  Mad Dog!
” Jake bellowed as things settled down around the station.  “You two are on guard duty.  Post the Strykers out front and be ready for follow-up attacks!”  He walked inside, stepping around the bodies of fallen men.  Ava followed him.  “
Switchblade!
  Jake continued.  “Gather up some men and drag these fucking dead bodies outside!”

He walked to the downstairs office.  Ava followed him.  Inside, he grabbed two bottles of tequila from an open box.  He handed one to Ava, then took a blue bandana from his pocket, spit on it, and wiped some of the blood from her face.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Looks like you took a pretty hard knock there, babe,” he nodded at her head.

“I’ll live,” she said, pounding back a mouthful of tequila and then using a small mirror to affix a bandage to the wound.

Jake took a deep swig himself and then tied the bandana around the laceration to Ava’s arm.

“So what’s the plan?” Ava asked.

Jake snorted.  “I should be asking
you
,” he said.  “You had their attack mapped out pretty damn well.”

She nodded, wanting to smile for the credit he’d finally given, but daring not to.  “Question is…what now?” she said.

Jake took a deep breath and then another long drink of tequila.  He leaned against the side of the desk and shook his head, “I don’t know.  We sure as hell can’t take another attack like that…not here at least.  Those last couple addicts are ready to bust out of here.  I’d be surprised if they aren’t gone already.  They knew they were coming to fight and to shoot at people, but I don’t think they had any idea it was going to be something like that.  About half our guys are dead or fucked up.  We’ve got the Strykers, but they’re not enough on their own.  We can’t hold this place in the shape it’s in.  We’ve got to move.”

“If we stay in Atlanta, the Three Families will hunt us until we’re dead,” Ava looked at him and fished a pack of cigarettes from her pocket.  She pulled out two, light them in her mouth, and then offered one to Jake.  He took it and they both smoked in silence for a moment.

“Any thoughts?” Jake asked.

“We stay here and we’re dead,” Ava said, hoping to plant the seed but not have to water it too much before it took root and grew in the dirt that comprised Jake’s tiny brain.

“But we’ve got things going here,” Jake said.

Ava shook her head, “We
had
things going here.  Now those things are over.  We can’t take on the Three Families, and we can’t outlast them.  Today was just a precursor of things to come.  The only thing we can do is outrun them.  We’ve got the Strykers; we can get out of here and start over.  We know how to do it now.  It’ll be much easier next time around.”

Jake smoked…and drank…and considered.  He moved around the desk and collapsed heavily into the office chair that sat before it.  Then he said, “Yeah, but where?”

It was the question Ava had been waiting so long to hear, and she pounced upon the opportunity that Jake had just presented her.

She moved up close to him and slowly squeezed her way around and over him so that she was straddling him on the chair. 

“We need a vacation,” she said, stroking his check and rubbing a hand down over his chest.

“Ha!” he laughed.  “No shit!”

“What do you think about going south?”

“We’ve already
gone
south,” he said, not understanding.

“No, I mean further south…somewhere with sand…the ocean.  I want to be able to lay on a beach with you somewhere, relax in the sun, take a break, drink tequila…enjoy ourselves for a little bit somewhere warm, somewhere with water…somewhere like Florida.  We’ve got the Strykers fueled and ready to go.  We could fill the other vehicles up with the rest of our supply and be on our way within two hours…maybe less.”