Page 32 of Redemption (Devil Dogs of the Apocalypse #4)

Cole

It’s daybreak by the time I reach the bridge on the outskirts of the town, soaked to the bone from the overnight thunderstorm I fought against for miles. I had no choice, however. It was either hide in that tree all night and risk pneumonia or climb down and risk it all to find my family.

The answer was simple.

I need to find them, wherever they are, and I won’t stop looking until I do. Some way, somehow, we will be reunited. Even if I have to burn down the entirety of Phoenix Rising to do so.

But, regardless of the fact that I want to race into town and find them as fast as I can, I can’t.

Doing so could just get me captured like they originally intended.

So I need to be smart about this. Since I don’t know much about Phoenix Rising, the community’s hierarchy, or the town’s layout, I need to obtain as much intel as possible before I start my search.

Since I already confirmed they took all of us, and I was the only one in the back of that vehicle, I have to assume they separated us for transport.

Unfortunately, after I managed to escape, I didn’t see any other vehicles, nor any sign of Aly, Jax, or Hawk on the way here.

Which means I have to believe they’ve already arrived.

If that’s the case, I need to figure out where they’re being kept and to what degree.

The possibilities are endless. Especially now that I can confirm they’re no longer the peaceful community they portray themselves as being.

They could have simply placed them in holding cells, waiting for the right time to enact whatever it is they’re planning on doing with them.

They could have already assimilated them into their system, putting them to work under guard until they eventually convert and submit to whatever leadership requires of them.

Or, and I’m really hoping it’s not, they could have beaten them into submission.

Let’s face it, they already managed to knock out Hawk and me.

I can only assume that’s what they did to Aly and Jax because, just like Hawk and myself, they wouldn’t have gone down without a fight.

The only way they would have been taken is if they were unconscious.

A vision of Aly, beaten black and blue, covered in her own blood, has me seeing red.

I swear, if they hurt one hair on her beautiful head, no one will survive.

I might not have any weapons on me, but I’m resourceful, with a brain full of random knowledge and the resolve to use it to its fullest if I need to.

People don’t realize how easy it is to construct their own weapons right in the sanctity of their own homes, not even noticing how many deadly concoctions can be created out of regularly used household goods. They may not be as quick as a bullet to the skull, but mark my words...

One. Fucking. Hair.

I leave the open road and head deeper into the suburban township, keeping to the shadows dawn still gifts me while using the buildings on the smaller side roads and alleys for cover.

I’m not sure if they have any sentries, but if they do, I need to stay clear out of sight from any of them. If I don't, it’s game over.

Normally, nighttime would be the better choice to perform a reconnaissance mission.

Using the cover of darkness to hide your tracks would be infinitely more conducive to a stealth operation.

But I have no other choice. Even though I ran straight through the night to get here, I didn’t make it before the sun rose.

And now, since I refuse to let the hours pass while they carry on with whatever plans they have for Aly and the guys, I’m out of time.

It's now or never.

Needing to get a better vantage point, I look to the rooftops. A larger building, that might have been a school at one point, catches my eye. It’s about a block away and might be a good place to start.

Maneuvering through the fading shadows, it takes only a few minutes before I reach the red-bricked facade and locate the emergency fire ladder around the back. I climb it to the top but stop on the last rung, checking the area before I finish the ascent and step both feet onto the roof.

Forcing myself to be as small and inconspicuous as possible, I crouch down as I make my way to the other side.

Thankfully, the rooftop comes equipped with a surrounding parapet large enough to provide sufficient coverage as I cross the expanse of the building.

Once I’m on the side facing the town, I press my body up against it, and peek over the lip, beginning my OODA loop (Observe, Orient, Decide, Act.) sequence to see what I’m working with. .. and against.

Up here, I have a decent view of almost the entire town.

Over to the left is the main road we came in on the other day.

The gardens, the playground, and a few nondescript buildings fill the space on the other side.

To the right of the road, on my side, are a few larger commercial buildings that might have been used for administrative purposes before everything went tits up — maybe a town hall or a recreation center of some kind.

There’s also a gas station and then the rest of the residential area beyond that.

I’m not sure what the administrative buildings are being used for now, but dozens of people are filing in and out of them.

In fact, all of the larger buildings are bustling with traffic.

The sheer volume of residents conducting daily activities at the break of dawn piques my interest.

I’ve heard of farmers waking up at sunrise, trying to get as much work done as possible before the sun sets.

That, I can completely understand. But the Age of Corporate America is over.

The need to be up and at the office at the ass crack of dawn is a thing of the past. So, for these people to be inside this early, doing.

.. whatever the fuck they do? I can’t help but wonder why.

Unfortunately, this just makes my search infinitely more difficult.

With multiple buildings being used to this capacity, it makes each one of them a potential target and does absolutely nothing to help narrow down which one Aly and the guys might be in.

What makes it even worse is that I have no idea if they’re even keeping them in the same building.

I groan at the thought.

The only way I’m going to be able to find them is if I go through every one of the buildings and meticulously clear each of them.

But even if I conduct a stealth mission at night, and miraculously survive being undetected, I’m by myself.

And one person looking for three? Without being able to physically go into these buildings and potentially raising all kinds of alarms throughout the community?

That’s going to take forever. Time, I don’t have to waste.

Under different circumstances, this would be the perfect time for some immersive recon.

Unfortunately, during our first encounter, we were seen.

By multiple people. And with my pale complexion and uncommon hair color, I’d be recognized immediately.

Like a fucking flame in the dark, I’d stick out so much these people would have no choice but to question me.

But, then again... undercover immersive recon.

Now, that’s an idea.

From what I’ve observed, many of these houses on the outskirts are no longer occupied, and they may hold the items I need for a decent disguise. Or at least one passable enough to get me through what I need to do without being easily recognizable.

With a plan brewing in my head, I turn away from the town, flatten myself onto the rooftop, and crawl my way over to the other side, taking the ladder down before heading back the way I came, deeper into the suburban wilderness.

While there are a lot of people taking part in the Phoenix Rising community, there isn’t an entire town’s worth.

Which means the farther out of the town’s center I am, the less likely I am to come across someone actually occupying one of the houses I intend to use.

When I’m a sufficient enough distance away from what I assume to be the town’s epicenter, I choose one.

It doesn’t matter which. Even though I have no idea if they have what I need for a future disguise, they have what I need right now: shelter, protection, clothing, and a hiding place right under their noses.

I set my sights on a yellow single-story home.

It’s small, which means fewer rooms I need to clear before I feel safe beneath its roof.

Without a weapon, I stay on guard, slinking through the weeds in the side yard as I make my way to the back.

I take the steps up to the deck and press against the wall next to the sliding back doors.

It’s quiet, no sounds coming from inside the dwelling as I wait.

And wait. After a moment, I look through the glass, the inside dark and unmoving.

Not wanting to be too obvious and leave broken shards of glass everywhere for a passing onlooker to spot, I look past the large glass doors and walk to a regular-looking door farther on.

It’s locked, but I lift my boot and kick just below the handle.

It takes a few tries, but eventually, the door caves in, along with the frame, granting me access.

I quickly enter, prop the door back up to make it look as if nothing happened, and get to work.

Unfortunately, without a gun or knife to my name, if there’s anyone currently in the house, I'll have to take them down using nothing but my hands. Frankly, I don’t like that option.

The kitchen is my first stop as I ease around the corner and spy on the room.

When I'm fairly convinced it’s empty, I charge ahead and aim right for the drawers, hoping there’s at least one knife left for me.

I dig through each and every one of them, trying to find what I need as quickly as possible, but I slam the fourth and last drawer shut when each ends up being absolutely empty.

Unable to admit defeat just yet, I take a chance and open the oven, only to find that even the metal racks are gone.

Son of a bitch.

I start to turn away when a thought strikes me, my gaze catching on the drawer below the oven: the broiler/storage compartment.

Maybe...

I yank at the metal and smile at the cast iron pan looking back at me. It’s not ideal, but a weapon’s a weapon. Which makes it good enough for me. Successfully armed with the heavy skillet, I turn to search the rest of the property.

It only takes a few minutes before I’m able to clear all the rooms, and, just as I hoped, there’s no sign of anyone living here.

Satisfied and relieved I don’t have to hide anymore, I head back into the bedroom and rummage through the closets, needing to find clothing that hopefully both fits me and is tactically sound.

If I have the choice, I don’t want anything that makes too much noise or is too bulky, but anything will be better than just the sopping wet pair of boxers I’m currently wearing.

I’m about halfway through my search when I find exactly what I need: a black pair of loose, broken-in Dockers and a dry-fit t-shirt.

I throw them on, along with a new pair of boxers, a pair of socks, and the boots I found in the trunk, and continue with my mental checklist.

Although my newly acquired cast iron bludgeon is deadly enough, I need something else. Something lighter and easier to handle. While this place might not have any guns or knives, there are less obvious things I can use to protect myself.

I grab a duffel bag from the closet and head back to the kitchen. Deadly concoctions fill my brain as I make my way over to the sink before crouching down and flinging the cupboard doors open with determined purpose.

My lips lift in a sinister grin as I look down upon the large canister of hornet spray sitting front and center and eagerly place it up onto the counter along with the bleach, vinegar, and other various chemical spray bottles.

Next, I turn to the pantry, hoping the residents of the encampment overlooked this as well.

Immediately, my eyes catch on the chili powder and black pepper.

The seemingly innocuous spices are added to the pile, right along with a long-tipped grill lighter and all the metal shish-kabob skewers that were hiding in the back.

Satisfied with my findings, I exit the kitchen, making my way down the hall to continue with the next item on my list.

I enter the bathroom and pull open the cupboard underneath the sink.

A few canisters of hairspray and a bottle of nail polish remover are placed to the side so I can add them to my bag of tricks later, but it’s not until I reach the very back of the cabinet that I miraculously find exactly what I’m looking for.

Holding up the box, I read the instructions.

The entire process should only take about an hour, but I’ll do it later.

I don’t want to take a chance on any chemical reactions between what’s going on with my impromptu makeover and the DIY arsenal I’m about to build.

Reentering the kitchen, I step up to the counter and meticulously place all the ingredients I found in front of a large glass bowl.

After reviewing my inventory and making sure I won’t accidentally kill myself in the process, I lift my mask over my face, place a pair of oven mitts on my hands, and begin mixing.

While these concoctions might not be as potent as the real stuff, they’ll still pack a punch and will get me out of trouble if need be.

Once I’m done MacGyvering my own personal chemical warfare stash, I’ll get started on myself.

And then, it’s game time.

Hold on, guys, I’m coming.