SurvivorZ: Grave Harbor

68

MIKE

Upon hearing the single clap of gunfire in the dead of night, most everyone within earshot waited for the other shoe to drop. Mike was the exception to that rule. He was on his feet in a flash, awakened instantly by the shot. He grabbed for his clothes while Barb and Katie were still wringing the sleep from their eyes.

"What was that noise?" Barb asked blearily. She noticed him sliding into his jeans and hiked her eyebrows. "Where are you going?"

"Somebody fired a gun," he said, slipping into his shoes without untying the laces. "It's probably just a misfire, but I'm going to check on the prisoners. I need to make sure they're still locked away safely."

"Can't someone else do that? You're not their jailer."

He collected his shirt and holstered gun, and then leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. "It won't take long. I need to know for my own peace of mind."

"Mommy?" Katie whined from the neighboring bed on the other side of the curtain. "What's going on?"

Torn between trying to talk him out of leaving and comforting her child, Barbara picked the latter. "It's all right, honey. Nothing to worry about."

She rolled out of bed and moved around the curtain to her child's bedside. Meanwhile, Mike finished dressing and started for the door.

"Mike," she called out, stopping him on his way out. "Hurry back... and stay safe."

"I will." After a moment's consideration, he took his coat and added, "You guys should get dressed. Just in case."

Barb studied his worried expression. "Okay."

He rushed out the door with a worm writhing in his gut. He couldn't shake the feeling that time was not on his side. Down the hall, the military occupants of some of the neighboring rooms rushed outside, half dressed. He fell in with them as they ran to the armory downstairs.

A few soldiers pushed upstairs against the flow, but not many. The only face he recognized in the turmoil was Sergeant Lowe. He suspected she was on her way to check on Lloyd. She looked as frantic to reach her destination as he was, especially after the smell of smoke reached their nostrils.

A tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered that he should turn around and see to Barb and Katie, instead of checking on the prisoners. By the time it became too loud to ignore, he was already in the basement.

The pounding of semi-automatic gunfire from the outside yard made it clear that whatever was going on, it was something worse than a jailbreak. His check on the prisoners was starting to look more like a rescue mission.

The lone guard on duty, a frightened private who barely appeared old enough to shave, swung his carbine at him on arrival. "Who goes there?"

"Easy," Mike assured him with his hands raised. "I just came to check on the prisoners. When I heard that first gunshot, I thought they might've tried to escape."

"What's going on out there?"

"I don't know, but I think the building might be on fire. We need to get these people out of here."

The soldier glanced at the door and the stairs, torn between his duty here and his responsibility to join the fight.

Mike held out his hand. "Give me the keys. I'll take care of it. I don't know what's going on out in the yard, but it sounds bad. That's where you should be."

"I... can't. I have my orders."

"Protecting the camp supersedes them, wouldn't you say?" Mike countered. "Come on. We don't have time to debate this. You need to be out there and I'm the only one these people trust. I can get them to safety."