Doug couldn't shake this feeling of foreboding. He remembered what Kyle said in his last email: Whoever these killers were, they got to Valerie.
She's dead.
Doug closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts of grief and loss that threatened to overwhelm him. He needed to focus on the task at hand. Right now, his goal was simple – he needed information, and the best place to get it was in person with Kyle and the rest of the team.
If he wanted to know why his friends were attacked and killed, then heading to the Safehouse was his best bet.
Doug quickly gathered up his things, slung his backpack across his shoulders, and headed toward the exit of the bunker when suddenly the perimeter alarm went off.
A red alert flashed on the status screen on the wall.
─ Warning! Intruder detected! Alert Level: Serious
A live video feed appeared on the screen, showing a shadowy figure standing in the middle of the open yard near the bunker entrance. Lightning flashed across the sky, briefly illuminating the figure and he saw the glint of steel from a sword he held aloft. As soon as Doug saw the intruder, his heart skipped a beat.
Who is it? Who does this guy work for? How did he find me?
Doug's jaw set in resolve. He'd have to fight his way out and abandon the bunker. It wasn't safe here anymore.
He scrambled to his closet that housed his meager arsenal. Inside were two pistols, a dagger, a pair of throwing knives, and a sawed-off shotgun. He even had two sashes loaded with spare bullets and a tactical vest to hold more ammo.
Doug put on the tactical vest first, and then slung each of the sashes over his shoulders. He grabbed his 9 millimeter Glock Gen 3 and pulled out the magazine, checking to make sure it was fully loaded. He then did the same for his 10 millimeter Glock Gen 5. The 10 mm was much heavier and the ammo was often harder to find, but he always felt more confident carrying it as it had long ago been designed by the FBI and has been known to be able to punch through car doors. He then slipped each into shoulder holsters on the vest.
He grabbed the dagger and both throwing knives and secured them to his belt. Finally, he picked up the sawed-off shotgun and made sure it was fully loaded with several shells in the barrel and one in the chamber. He then slung it over his shoulder and began grabbing all of his remaining ammo including three spare magazines for each pistol that were fully loaded and stuffed it all into his pockets.
He looked like a GI Joe action figure with all of his gear on, and it was really heavy. With weapons loaded, Doug strode confidently out of the bunker door and started climbing up the rungs toward the disguised manhole cover. He hovered at the top rung, slinging the shotgun off of his shoulder and readying himself to attack. After three deep breaths, he unlocked the cover and threw it open.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
He raised the shotgun out of the hole and released a single warning shot into the air.
"I know you're there!" Doug yelled, "Drop your weapons!"
There was silence.
Doug waited a second, then another. Still nothing happened.
This isn't working. I need to take control of the situation.
Doug lowered his weapon slightly.
"Okay, whoever you are," he spoke calmly, "if you don't drop your weapons, I'm gonna shoot."
Still no response. Doug's finger tightened on the trigger, preparing to jump out and fire.
Suddenly a deep-throated voice spoke, "I told you I'd come for you."
Doug froze. He recognized the voice. It was one of the men Lisa had let him use for the raid at the park.
"You never should have double-crossed Lisa." his voice sneered, "Now you're gonna pay."
Doug's heart raced.
This guy is insane!
Without a second's hesitation, Doug launched himself out of the hole to face his attacker. He pumped the shotgun and fired blindly into the air, hoping to buy some time until he figured out what to do next.
His enemy didn't give him any chance to plan. Instead, the figure lunged forward with surprising speed, slashing a blade toward Doug. He dodged aside, narrowly avoiding the strike. Then, he ducked under a powerful swing aimed at his head and kicked the assailant square in the chest sending him flying backward.
Doug scrambled back to his feet and made a beeline towards the side gate of the yard, pumping the shotgun and firing haphazardly behind him, causing buckshot to spray in the general direction of his assailant.
Then he ran.
He sprinted as fast as he could, dodging tree branches and leaping over debris littering the streets. When he reached the end of the block, he slowed and turned to look behind him. The man was in hot pursuit, running after him with sword raised high.
Doug made a quick decision. There was only one way he was getting out of this situation alive. He sprinted down the street toward's his neighbor's abandoned backyard shop where he had stashed the stolen Suburban. He glanced back once again to ensure he hadn't lost sight of the man chasing him.
When he spotted the shadow disappear around the corner of a building, he broke into a full sprint, ignoring the pain in his lungs and legs as he barreled through the empty neighborhood.
The old wooden fence surrounding the property came into view ahead, and Doug leaped over the low barrier and dashed toward the Suburban parked inside. He slammed the door shut and locked it before turning to face the man who now stood in the middle of the yard, glaring at him.
"That's far enough." the stranger growled menacingly, raising his sword and pointing it straight at Doug.
Doug grabbed the key that he had hidden under the seat and shoved the it into the ignition and the engine roared to life. He pressed down on the gas pedal, revving the motor to threaten him. The intruder advanced on the SUV, swinging his sword wildly while shouting threats. Doug threw the vehicle into drive, spinning the tires as he flew forward toward the man who jumped out of the way at the last second and sprawled onto the ground.
Doug sped away, feeling adrenaline coursing through his veins. He drove recklessly through the neighborhood, barely keeping control of the vehicle as he careened left and right, dodging abandoned vehicles and piles of debris.
He knew the bunker was a lost cause now, including his entire stash of food and diesel fuel that he had so painstakingly acquired over the past few days. All he had left was his weapons, ammunition, and the Suburban with only half a tank left of gas. But the thing he was really regretting was all of his gaming gear that he had left behind. That was his only escape from his glum reality. There was only one place he could think of where he could regain most of what he had lost, including a new set of gaming gear.
The Safehouse.
----------------------------------------
© Copyright 2023 R.M. Mulder. All rights reserved.