places: when it hits the fan

A few minutes later Sam returned with the big black oscillating fan that had been in Clayton’s office.

This can’t be good.

The Russian took a small table in the corner and put it to the right side of my chair.

“Put it over here please.”

Sam placed the fan on the table.

“If you do this...”

The Russian plugged the cord into the socket above the light-bulb.

“Sam, get a screwdriver. I need to take the cage off this thing.”

I was hoping to bargain with the Russian. “I’ll show you where he is if you will just let me go!”

The Russian gave a smile that would have given the devil the creeps.

“Now - about Clayton’s where abouts.”

“I can’t draw a map or point the way without fingers...just let me show you!”

I had a strong feeling that it didn’t matter whether I told him where Clayton was or not.  This guy had a look in his eyes like I was an ant - and he was the mischievous kid with a magnifying glass.  Nothing was going to deter him from his little experiment.

“Grab his hand Sam.”

Sam leaned the thompson in a corner behind me.  He took my hand.

“Tell you what Sam, let’s bind his other hand until we need it again.”

Sam did as the Russian asked, using the twine from my shotgun.

“Well, that came in handy - didn’t it?” remarked the Russian.

With my left hand bound, Sam took my right hand.  The Russian leaned into me to keep me from moving.

“Do we need to gag him boss?”

“No, I want him to hear this pig squeal.  After all, there’s no one within miles of this place.  In a business like ours, location is everything.”

After removing the cage from the fan, the Russian turned it on.  He looked at me with a smirk and slowly notched it up to the highest setting.

The fan began to rattle and hum.

“It won’t do you any good to clinch your fist Mr. Hale.  I will break them first if I have to.”

Sam’s hands were like vice grips.  They were so big that they almost engulfed mine.

“Hold them steady Sam - be careful.”

Sam spread my fingers and pushed them toward the black steel blades.

I tried to hold them back but I couldn’t.

I tried to free myself.  Fear came up and I tried to pull back - strained to pull back - but to no avail.

My hand was forced toward the blades, inches and then in.

I couldn’t help but groan.

I yelled as the blades hit flesh.  For a moment Sam’s hands let up on the tension and I pushed down.  I tried not to think of the pain.  I did not look up into their faces.  I focused on pushing my hand down to the base of the fan.  Sam let out a noise as the blades sliced into the back of his hand.  He released his grip on me.

“Don’t let him go Sam!” yelled the Russian.

Too late. 

I had laid hold to the base of the fan made it my weapon.  This was my only chance. I lunged forward with it toward the Russian and the blades knocked the gun out of his hand with a ‘clack-clack’.  The light-bulb began to swing again as I swung the fan around toward Sam’s direction. The fan had resumed to full power.  He was still fumbling backwards as I lunged the mechanical steel teeth into his throat.  It made a terrible noise as it went deep.  Sam gave out a gurgled yell.  He fell grasping at his neck and writhed on the floor.

The light-bulb was swinging and shadows were dancing madly.

“Don’t let him get away Sam!” yelled the Russian who was reaching through the fallen table to get to his gun.   The Russian kept barking orders at the dying man. He didn't realize as of yet what had happened to his man.

I didn’t have time to fumble for a gun, I had to keep using the fan.

I didn’t have time to feel pain, or think about it. I moved toward the Russian who had now given up on scrambling for a gun.  He realized now that I had the upper hand.

He threw the table at me.  It did not stop the mechanized blades from coming at him.  I was going to kill him with it.  I felt no anger or hate.  For at that moment we were experiencing the very same fear.  In my mind, only one person was leaving that basement alive.

The light kept shifting and shadows danced in the room.  I started seeing blood everywhere.  It could have been mine - it could have been Sams - it could have been the Russians.  The light-bulb eventually hit the ceiling and everything went black.  It took me a moment to realize that I had accidentally pulled the plug from the socket.

The Russian was screaming and yelling incoherently.  I think he was weeping.  I am not sure.  I threw the heavy oscillating fan into his direction and I’m pretty sure it hit him.  He got quiet.  There was enough silence to hear Sam force his last gurgled breath from his opened throat.

I backed toward the thompson gun.  I tripped backward over Sam’s body and fell hard against the wall.  I tried to move faster but I simply couldn’t.  I felt my way to the corner and found the machine gun had fallen to the floor.  I felt the tip of my finger dangling.  I felt nauseated.

I saw the Russian had made it to the top of the stairs.  I cocked the weapon and raked the stairway.  He managed to pull his legs from the spray just in time.  I got up on my feet and stumbled across the ill-lit room.  I walked up the stairs, but I wasn’t feeling well.  I tripped over Sam's body again and then over the chair.  The Russian had closed the door at the top of the stairs leaving me in absolute darkness.

I made it to the stairs and used the rails to lead me upward.  I clenched the trigger and kept the tommy aimed upward toward the door.  I opened fire again and pushed through the door.  I fell into the light of the hallway.  For a moment I was blinded by the light.  I used the wall to slide down the hall toward the front door.  I heard a car door slam and an engine start.  I pushed myself toward the front door.  I felt a splinter hit my cheek from a bullet hitting the door frame as I passed through.

The Russian shot at least four times and missed.  I just stood there like a dumb target. He screeched out of the driveway and sped down the road.  I let off a burst as he drove away.  I missed.  My arms felt like they were weighted with lead.  I was still having a hard time seeing.

I heard the car moving fast into the distance.  He got out by the skin of his teeth.  Come to think of it - so did I.

I took a few steps forward and collapsed on the front porch.

I can’t go on.