Open Wounds (Harbour Bay #2)(58)
“Probably one of the lieutenants,” Amelia said.
“More than likely,” Dean replied.
“How many do you suppose are in there?” Kellie asked as she stared at the building. She had lived in one just like it for years with her mother. Her building had been torn down five years ago, and a new service station stood on the land.
Dean shrugged, merely lifting one shoulder. “Who knows? I’ve seen kids coming and going all day. You’d think they were giving out free Xbox games in there, considering the foot traffic.”
“How do you want to handle this?” Darryl asked Amelia.
“We take them hard, detain anyone who resists, and find those shooters. I’m sure there will be plenty of evidence lying inside to make charges stick.”
Darryl nodded and moved to open the boot of his vehicle. He handed Amelia a vest similar to Dean’s then lifted another larger one and slipped it over his chest, securing it. He swung around to face her as Amelia and Dean jogged on ahead. “Stay here. You don’t have a gun or tactical experience and no reason to be in there when the shit goes down.”
She put up a hand. “Understood.”
Darryl nodded as if accepting that she wasn’t a complete idiot, and joined the others. Kellie opened the car door and slipped on to the passenger seat. She gripped the radio in her hand as she surveyed her surroundings. If anyone came near the crumbling building, she would let the team inside know.
***
With their weapons drawn, Darryl, Donovan, and Matthews quickly climbed the steps, easily manoeuvring around the broken ones. So far they had found the tenement empty, much to his relief.
The more parties involved, the harder it would be to contain them, and something could go seriously wrong. Together, they cleared each room before moving on to the next one, making sure to keep an eye on each direction so no one could sneak up behind them and blow their brains out.
Darryl couldn’t believe anyone actually lived in these rooms. Each resembled more of a squatter’s paradise than appropriate accommodations, but then again, these kids probably thought this was the Hilton compared to what they were used to. He could smell the mould and wondered at the damage it did to the kids’ lungs on a permanent basis. They would need to do something about this building. He made a mental note to bring it up with Harris.
He tried to imagine Kellie living in a place like this. From what she’d told him, this was as close to her home as he would ever see, and he shuddered to think at how vulnerable she had been. Looking at her now, he never would have guessed at her past. She had overcome so much and he was proud of her for that. She was an incredibly strong woman even if she didn’t believe it, but he did, and that was all that mattered.
He reached the end of the hall. It curved around to reveal another set of doorways and Darryl knew they would spend the rest of the day clearing the place. Oddly enough, the only sounds they heard so far were the rodents nesting in the walls, and the creak of the weakened floorboards beneath their feet. His gut warned him to be careful.
A moment later, a loud pop echoed through the apartment complex and shook the thin walls like an earthquake. Darryl glanced at Amelia and nodded. She responded in kind and he took off up the next level of stairs as she continued searching the current floor.
He took the stairs two at a time, wary and cautious, ever mindful of the danger. He moved silently down the hallway, taking a quick inventory of the rooms as he passed. Some doors were conveniently left open for his perusal, others he had to open.
He was halfway down the second corridor when he heard another shot. He quickly and diligently scanned the area as his ears registered the fact that the shot had come from a room not too far down the hall. He could see the open door and the shadows against the wall from a figure moving about the room.
He reached into his pocket and dialled Donovan’s number, allowing it to ring once. He knew she had it on vibrate, just like he did, and hung up. She would know he’d found something, and when it was safe to do so, she would join him upstairs.
Darryl approached the room and peered inside. Another pop blasted inside the room, piercing his eardrum. A body fell, joking two more on the floor. He had gotten there just in time to see the last body fall.
“Don’t move, you son-of-a-bitch,” Darryl spat at the tall man holding the gun in a coolly efficient manner. His gaze drifted over to the three dead teenagers.
The man’s wild eyes shot daggers at him even as he assessed just how serious Darryl was about squeezing the trigger. He must’ve seen the anticipated gleam in his gaze since he immediately dropped his weapon, the gun bouncing loudly on the floorboards.
“Kick it away,” Darryl ordered, and watched as the man, clearly pissed, kicked his gun away. “Get down on your knees.”
The man snarled, and Darryl studied the three bodies. It was clear from the angle that they’d been on their knees before they died, probably begging for their lives. None of them appeared older than eighteen. Darryl turned his dark gaze back at his captive, approaching warily, knowing it was unwise to assume he had the upper hand.
It was always a lesson learnt the hard way.
Darryl made it only a foot away when suddenly the man rose to his feet in one lithe movement, his head bowing slightly as the man rammed into his stomach like a bull. Caught off guard by the attack, he grunted as he took the hit, his feet lifting off the ground at the momentum. Darryl gripped the handle of his Glock tighter it.