David Baldacci - The Last Mile

“Well, there’s no other way to get out,” yelled Milligan from across the garage.

Mars turned and took off running. He hit the door leading directly to the outside so hard that it broke off its hinges. But bushes and vines had grown up all over the house, blocking the door from falling away. He pushed and kicked, but the door was inextricably tangled up in the heavy shrubs and stout vines and would not give.

“Shit!” he yelled.

Decker’s lungs were heaving. He dropped low to the floor since the smoke was rising. He called out to the others to do the same. He belly-crawled over to the overhead door. Milligan was sprawled on his stomach next to it.

“Somebody’s got to see the fire from the road,” gasped Milligan.

“But by the time they call the fire department and they get here, we’ll be asphyxiated,” warned Decker.

“Get out of the way,” said Mars.

They looked over in time to see him sprinting full speed toward the door. Both men slid out of the way as he catapulted past them and slammed his shoulder into the overhead garage door. It cracked, but did not give.

Mars, gasping for air after having sucked in a huge amount of smoke, dropped to the concrete and was sick to his stomach.

“Someone’s trapped us in here,” said Milligan. “Set the fire and jammed the doors leading out.”

Decker knew that he was right about this, but how would someone know they were even coming here?

He reached under the bottom of the garage door and heaved upward. The door did not budge. This was an awkward angle for him, preventing him from using most of his strength and none of his bulk to defeat the obstacle.

He let go and thought for the first time—

We’re going to die in here.

The next moment he heard it.

Gunshots, just outside. He instinctively rolled to the side, not knowing if the rounds would rip through the door.

“Who’s out there?” shouted Milligan.

Something hit the door. Blow after blow rained against it. Then another gunshot. It hit the door, near where it met the wall. Decker pushed himself farther back. He readied his gun just in case.

But Milligan shot forward, gripped under the bottom of the door, and pushed upward.

The door slowly started to rise.

“Help me,” he said.

Decker and Mars hurtled forward to assist him.

The door moved upward faster.

“Go, go!” said Milligan.

He pushed Mars forward.

As with the side door to the garage, thick vegetation had grown in front of the garage door. There had been no concrete driveway, only gravel, which had long since been reclaimed by the soil.

Mars kicked and thrashed and tore at vines and branches until he was clear of it. Decker was right behind him.

As Milligan stumbled out he got caught between a prickly holly tree and the side of the house. When he cried out, Decker and Mars rushed to his aid and with their combined strength soon had him free. The three men staggered away from the house and collapsed onto the ground, retching and coughing.

Mars rolled over onto his back and looked at his old home. Flames were visible at the front windows. Black smoke was pouring out of fractured glass.

Mars laid his head back against the ground and closed his eyes. But Decker was on his feet looking wildly around. He had heard a car start up but couldn’t see where it was.

“There,” shouted Milligan, who had his gun out and pointed to the left.

The two men reached the road in time to see the taillights of a car disappear into the darkness.

“Shit!” exclaimed Milligan. He pulled out his phone and tried to make a call, but there was still no cell reception. He shoved it back into his pocket and then raced after Decker, who was already at their car. He jumped in and put the keys in the ignition. It wouldn’t start.

“What the hell?” exclaimed Decker.

The car’s engine wouldn’t even turn over.

Decker said, “Hit the hood release.”

Milligan did so, raised the hood, and shone his light around the engine compartment. “Battery cables,” he said. “They’ve been cut.”

Decker got out of the car as Mars walked slowly over to them.

The house was fully on fire behind them, but Mars didn’t look back. He leaned against the car, his arms folded over his chest, after looking at the severed battery cables.

“I wonder who the hell that was,” said Milligan. “In the car.”

“That,” said Mars, “was my old man.”

Decker shot him a glance. “How do you know that?”

Mars pointed to the cut cables. “When I was seventeen I rolled the car my dad had given me. It was a piece of crap he got for nothing and fixed up. I was being stupid and going too fast. Luckily I wasn’t hurt. My father brought the car home, repaired it, and when I went out to drive it again, it wouldn’t start. I looked under the hood.”

“And found the cables cut,” said Decker.

Mars nodded. “He said he was teaching me a lesson. If I made a mistake there were consequences. After working my butt off around the house for six months he replaced the cables.”

Decker stared after the long-gone car. “He saved our lives.”

“How do you figure?” said Milligan. “I was thinking he almost killed us.”

“Someone almost killed us,” said Decker. “But it wasn’t Roy Mars.”

“You sure?”

In answer Decker led them back over to the open garage door, keeping back because of the smoke and flickering flames. He pointed to the right side where the door met the wall of the house.

“You can see that something was jammed in there,” he said. He picked up several pieces of flattened wood that were lying nearby. “Probably these. Roy pulled these out, although I think he might have shot one out, which accounts for the gunfire we heard by the door. That allowed us to lift the door.”

“And the other gunfire?” asked Mars.

“Your dad was engaged in a gunfight with whoever did try to kill us.”

Milligan looked around. “You think there might be some bodies around here?”

“I don’t know.”

Mars looked at him. “So my dad saved our butts?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Well, I’m glad he was here today, otherwise we wouldn’t be.”

Mars looked off in the direction of where his dad had fled. “If he would just come and talk to me, maybe we could work together.”

“He can’t do that, Melvin.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s murdered people. If he did come forward we’d have no other option than to arrest him.”

Mars slowly nodded. “I guess so.”

“Don’t try to make your father out to be something he’s not.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t think I have to say it,” replied Decker. “And keep in mind that I’m here to find the truth. And while I know that you’re innocent, I also know that your dad isn’t. Nothing can change that. Nothing you can do can change that. It is what it is. You have a life to lead. Don’t think it’s going to be with your dad. Because that’s not going to happen.”

Decker headed toward the road, while Mars stood where he was, looking down at the dirt.

Milligan joined Decker. “I think you were a little harsh back there, Decker. Why come down on him like a ton of bricks?”

“You think it’s better to give him false hope?”

“You can use some tact.”

“I don’t have any. And Melvin’s already lost twenty years of his life. I don’t want him to waste another second over a lost cause.”

Bail.

Money put up to secure the freedom of a human from incarceration.

At least temporarily.

The practice had been around nearly as long as there were bars with people put behind them.