Frankenstorm: Survivors by Ray Garton Page B

“One-oh-two at the location. Please advise.”
    “Who else is on the scene?” the female voice on the radio asked.
    “A TV van. KIEM. No other units. There are explosions in the building.”
    “Explosions? Is that what you said?”
    “Yep, affirmative. A window blew out and— whoa! Another one just blew!”
    Another fireball blew through the glass pane just two windows down from the first.
    “I’m gonna get out and have a look around,” Ram said. “Tell those other units to pick up some speed.”
    He racked the microphone, then unfastened his seat belt and opened the door. He looked over his shoulder and said, “You guys stay here, okay? I’m gonna see what I can see.”
    He got out and closed the door.
    The news van wasn’t very far away, maybe forty feet ahead of them. It was idling and its lights were on, there were people inside. Andy watched to see if that was where Ram was going. If it was, he decided he would get out and warn them. But instead, he walked toward the hospital, past the van.
    “What’re we gonna do, Dad?” Donny whispered.
    Andy got his phone from his pocket and called 911. The call was answered by a recording that explained he would have to wait his turn due to a heavy calling load. He cursed under his breath as he put the phone away.
    “I’m going to run over to that van and tell them what’s happened to us,” he said. “I can’t leave you here in case he comes back, so you’re going to have to come with me. I’m gonna hold your hand, but if I let go for some reason, I want you to stay right beside me, okay? Can you do that?”
    Donny nodded. They removed their seat belts and Andy opened the door.
    “Let’s go.” They got out, he grabbed Donny’s hand, and they hurried toward the van. Andy kept glancing at Ram to make sure he still had his back to them. He led Donny to the passenger side so the van was between them and Ram. He knocked on the window.
    The passenger seat was empty. The driver, a fat man wearing a cap, flipped the switch on his door that rolled down the window in front of Andy.
    “Look, you’ve got to help us,” Andy said. “My name’s Andy, and I’ve got my little boy Donny with me. We’ve been kidnapped by the sheriff’s deputy parked behind you. His name is Ram von Pohle and he’s killed several people tonight, and—”
    “Whoa, whoa,” the driver said as two heads appeared, leaning forward from the backseat, “slow down. You’ve got a little boy with you?”
    Andy bent down and picked up Donny so they could see him.
    “You’ve got to let us in,” he said. “This guy is going to kill us. He’s insane, I’m serious, that’s all he’s been doing tonight, killing people. He killed a house full of people tonight that included my—” Andy stopped talking when he realized that Donny did not know his mother was dead. “You have to let us in.”
    Light flashed in the side-view mirror on the driver’s side and the fat man turned to look at it.
    “Looks like we’ve got some company coming,” he said.
    Ram’s smiling face appeared in the driver’s side window and he rapped on the glass with his knuckles, shining a flashlight into the van. “Roll it down,” he said.
     
     
    There were eight of the bulky, helmeted men in black and they moved through the hospital quickly and efficiently, leaving behind them rooms in flames. They knew where the oxygen tanks were kept and were counting on them to spread the fire.
    They were to leave nothing and no one behind.

10
    Latrice was lost, but she didn’t let that slow her down. She continued to drive down Emerald Canyon, swerving around fallen trees and power poles, sending plumes of water up on either side of her Highlander as she drove through puddles and flooded sections of road.
    Behind her, the police car kept up, its red and blue lights spinning, siren wailing.
    “No, no, no, no, I’m not stoppin’ for you , Mr. Policeman, I’ve got shit to do! The fuck you think I am, stupid?”