Free Stryker: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale by Bobby Andrews

live there because we heard
vehicles coming and going. I don’t have a clue where they live, or if they live
together. Both guards sat in stools with their backs toward the entrance of the
building. They usually started out pretty sharp, but seemed to peter out at the
end of the night shift. I actually saw one of them fall asleep on the second
night.” She paused for a second.
    “There were three
other girls there when we arrived. The first morning we were there, they were
auctioned off. We could hear the bidding and the catcalls. They passed my cage
on the way out and the girls were all naked.” Stryker could hear the anger in
her voice building. She shook her head once and continued. “Then we heard them
screaming as they were led away. I could tell because the screaming got weaker
as the distance increased.”
    Stryker handed her
the drawing and asked, “Where are the doors and windows on the building?”
    “The main door is
here,” she said, touching the map on the east end of the building. “There’s a
garage door here, just to the north of the main door. Four windows go down both
sides, all accessible from ground level. There is a small back door here on the
opposite side of the building from the main entrance. I never saw anyone come
in or go out of the building using any door but the main entrance. The four other
girls are in this corner of building.” She tapped the southwest corner of the
map. “There is a wide corridor that goes through the middle of the building and
the bathrooms are next to the cages we were in.” She stopped and looked at the
map, apparently to confirm she had it all right.
    “Questions?” Sarge
asked, looking at Stryker.
    “A few.” He looked
an Erin and asked, “How can you draw the entire building? Did you see it from
the outside?”
    “Yes. It was sunup
when we arrived and the truck slowed down so I figured that was the
destination.”
    “If you weren’t
sold at the auction, how did you end up with the guy you did?”
    “I was a gift. He
was Brody’s half-brother and Brody apparently owed him something.”
    “How did you get
away?”
    “He was drunk when
he picked me up, and we stopped for him to go to the bathroom. There was a tire
iron in the back seat. I grabbed it and hid behind a bush. When he passed me on
the way back, I hit him on the head with the tire iron, stole his cell phone
and pistol, and drove the Jeep here. It’s parked in the barn. I called Grandpa
from about a mile away. I had to keep walking until I got a signal.”
    “Is he dead?”
    “I think so.”
    Stryker gave her a
moment, and then continued. “Show me on the drawing where you think the women were
standing when the auction was taking place.”
    “The men were
directly above us. There’s a small, elevated stage about fifty yards from the
front of the building, so I’m guessing they’re on the stage.” She had closed
her eyes to think about the distance, something Stryker often did when
examining his own mental photographs.
    “Are there any
terrain features we should know about? Any bushes or trees or other places we
can use for cover or concealment?” Stryker stopped himself and asked, “Do you
know what I’m talking about?”
    “Of course. I
started shooting with Grandpa when I was nine years old.” She closed her eyes
again, they blinked open, and she looked at the drawing. “There’s a tool shed
here, and a small hilltop here.” She pointed twice at the map. “The tool shed
sits at your two o’clock if you’re seated in the bleachers. The hilltop has two
trees and a large clump of bushes. Both are not cover, but concealment. It’s
around 150 yards from the bleachers.” She looked up at the two men and said,
“When are we going?”
    “You’re not
coming,” Sarge said in his command voice.
    Erin’s face turned
red, her eyes blazed, and then she leapt to her feet and stuck her face in
Sarge’s. “You’re not leaving me here like some helpless little air-head.