Apollo Project

by Brittany E Brinegar

  “No luck with cars either.” Jon ditched the ATF windbreaker for a sensible gray Marmot jacket. “Travis Wayne can explain it better. But we couldn’t even get the old jalopies without circuits to start.”

  Reagan hoped for some good news. “How about the food quest?”

  “Annabeth and I loaded the food in the wagon,” Granddad said. He sported a flannel shirt nearly identical to the one he discarded, gray cargo pants, and a puffy ski coat. “Mostly grabbed can goods. Beans, spam, and corn. We also grabbed crackers and assorted chips along with two cases of water.”

  “Come on Tucker, I asked for Oreos. Please tell me you found them,” Kelly moaned.

  “We need protein, not junk food,” Granddad said.

  Kelly tossed her golden hair. “Yet you made sure to grab Wavy Lays, your favorite vice.”

  “Calm down Mrs. Pak-man,” Granddad said tossing her a package of Oreos.

  “This cheapo still went for the store brand.” Despite her complaint, Kelly dug into the package.

  Jon snatched a box of crackers. “Did you manage to ditch Jasper?”

  “Why were you ditching him?” Kelly asked.

  “Because he’s annoying,” Scotty said.

  “I wanted to go to the sheriff’s station to stock up on guns,” Reagan said. “And no, I didn’t ditch Jasper.”

  Scotty shared a piece of beef jerky with Mickey. “The hot-head with a vendetta is now armed?”

  “This is unacceptable.” Jon shook his head. “He’s unstable.”

  “Have a little faith,” Reagan said. “He wants to protect his family.” If the others knew Jasper’s gun wasn’t loaded, they’d tip him off.

  “I still plan to keep an eye on him. He’s liable to shoot one of us,” Jon said.

  Reagan extended a revolver and a rifle. “I managed to keep these two guns for us.”

  “I still have Travis Wayne’s Glock.” Kelly thumped the bulge in her jacket.

  Jon’s chameleon eyes challenged her. “You any good with that thing?”

  “I grew up on military bases,” Kelly said. “Some of the best gunfighters in the country taught me how to shoot.”

  “Okay, Annie Oakley, who isn’t armed?” Regan asked. It was as if they played musical chairs with weapons.

  “Travis Wayne wasn’t when we were out looking for cars,” Jon said.

  “Leaving Annabeth from our group.” Scotty twisted at his waist. “She grew up on a ranch. I know she can shoot?”

  “Of course, she can, Tex.” Reagan strode toward Annabeth, passing the revolver. “Here you go, Thelma. Don’t shoot your eye out.”

  Annabeth checked the revolver’s barrel before tucking it in her pack. Jasper could learn a thing or two from the fifteen-year-old. “What do we do if Nate Campbell returns?”

  “Despite his actions, we can’t kill him.” Reagan sighed. “He has answers and I'm not talking about nuclear blast mumbo-jumbo.”

  “Are you sure we should dismiss it completely?” Kelly asked.

  “I'm not in the business of trusting psychotic killers,” Granddad said. “This is more than simply fallout.”

  “Perhaps.” Kelly squared to Granddad. “But what if this reaction produced radiation. We could all be exposed to radiation poisoning without even knowing it. Is it a risk you want to take?”

  “It’s a minute risk,” Granddad said fingering his beard.

  “But a concerning one,” Kelly said. “The symptoms Meredith, Jon and some of the others presented could be more serious than we know.”

  “Any theories on those symptoms?” Reagan asked.

  Kelly ticked off a few symptoms on her fingers. “Burn mark on neck and back, sore throat, ringing ears, what else?”

  “Swollen feet,” Reagan blurted.

  Kelly whirled to Reagan. “I hadn’t heard that one.”

  “I complained earlier,” Travis Wayne said. “Add stomach ache to the list. Meredith is sick.”

  “Which one has the burn?” Scotty asked. “Meredith or her husband?”

  “Meredith, the husband,” Kelly said. “Are we sure it’s related? Has anyone else displayed stomach issues?”

  “Maybe he caught a cold?” Granddad asked. “None of the Caribou Crew was dressed properly.”

  “I saw a sign for a hospital. We could stock meds,” Travis Wayne suggested.

  “And a Geiger counter,” Kelly added.

  “There won’t be any radiation,” Granddad said.

  Scotty lifted his baseball cap. “Will a Geiger counter even work?”

  “A decent point.” Kelly put her hands on her hips. “Have I mentioned how inconvenient this new world is?”

  “Hey, guys?” Annabeth called. “Do those green clouds look eerie to you?”

  Scotty scowled toward the sky. “Yeah, but don’t they always?”

  “Might be getting another wave of the blizzard,” Granddad said following their gaze.

  “We could squat in the shops until it passes.” Kelly curled inside her jacket.

  Reagan glanced at the horses, tied next to a dusty Xterra. “They won’t make it outside. Let’s find a barn.”

  “I didn’t see a barn close by.” The intense wind staggered Granddad. “I don’t think we have much time.”

  “The school can’t be far,” Scotty said. “We could get them into the gym for sure.”

  “Alright, let’s try it.” Reagan passed Travis Wayne the Winchester 1894 rifle.

  “It looks like Longmire’s gun,” Kelly observed.

  Travis Wayne pointed the rifle in the distance to check the sights. “Nice.” He headed for the wagon to prepare the horses.

  Reagan entered the store to call for the Caribou Crew. “Looks like another storm is headed our way. We’re going to the school for shelter.”

  “What’s wrong with here?” Jasper asked in his new yellow ski jacket and pants. He looked like a giant banana.

  “There’s no furnace. You’ll freeze.”

  “I don’t think Meredith can move,” Dawn cried. “He’s awfully sick.”

  “Scotty,” Reagan called outside. “Help carry Meredith.”

  Jon and Scotty jogged through the open door. After a false start where Scotty tried to lift Dawn, the two of them boosted Meredith into the wagon.

  Reagan grazed Olivia’s arm. “Are you ready?” Olivia’s vacant eyes stared through Reagan. “Olivia?”

  “She’s in shock.” Jasper tugged on his wife’s hand. She shuffled to the door like a zombie. Something was wrong with the woman and it was more than shock.

  Chapter 34 – Meet Me in Montana

  Tom

  “I’m not ATF at all.” Tension aimed at Robin hung, thick in the air. “It’s a cover. We were hired for a boat-load of money. We spent months in training, both physical and mental. Look, I’m not inquisitive. I mostly liked the money and liked spending time with the crew. The extent of my knowledge comes from the binder I was given. Mostly my job was to do what Gilbert and some of the other leaders said.”

  “How much danger are we in?” A multitude of questions entered Tom’s mind. He eased into the first topic, willing to grill with intensity if necessary. “Let’s start with what should be an easy one. The danger?”

  “Lots, I guess. I was given a million bucks. A quarter of it upfront. They don’t pay that kind of coin if you aren’t dealing with danger.”

  Tom remained calm though he wanted to scream. “Yet you walked into danger without knowing many details?”

  “Money blinded me. It was a mistake.”

  “I don’t buy it,” Emerson squealed. “This smells like the CIA.”

  “I don’t know.” Robin bit her lip and darted her eyes. “Maybe he’s right. I wasn’t in the loop.”

  “Why don’t you start from the beginning and fill us in on everything you do know,” Tom said.

  With her palms up, Robin bounced her eyes from one to the other. “It sounds crazy, but I’ll try my best to explain. I was a police officer in Joplin, Missouri.
I was involved in a shooting they deemed questionable. While on suspension, I got a call from somebody with a job offer. I was in a quasi-military group training first in the Florida swamps and later in the Colorado mountains. We trained, worked out, and took a bunch of tests. A few days ago, we were sent here with instructions. My part was to accompany Jon Little and do what he said. Basically, to keep him alive. He has some other skill sets and was given tasks I wasn’t privy to.”

  “What about this odd weather? The green clouds? The fire?” Tom converged on her, but in a subtle way. Unless she ran a con, her personality lent itself to taking orders.

  “We trained in harsh weather for sure. Rain, wind, a hailstorm once. We practiced fire rescue.” She rocked on her heels. “Should we go look for the park ranger?”

  Davidson executed a dramatic teenage shoulder slump. “You can’t seriously be suggesting we traipse through God knows what kind of weather to search for the idiot, moron of a park ranger.”

  Emerson snorted. “You expect us to move on from this revelation? Not so fast, Fed.”

  “It isn’t productive to take your anger out on me,” Robin said. “We can help each other survive.”

  Hunter whistled. “Hey. You could use another marksman too. I’ve seen the light and can help.”

  “Shut your pie-hole,” Emerson snapped.

  “Come on,” Hunter said. “I was scared and confused. You can trust me now.”

  Tom snarled. “I don’t generally start trusting people who left me for dead.” Arms crossed he addressed Robin. “You and I aren’t through with this discussion.”

  The door slamming drew their attention. Genevieve, face toothpaste white, caught her breath. “Barb talked to somebody on the radio.”

  The stampede made a path to the door, leaving only Hibbert outside. Tom darted to Barb’s side as she fiddled with the radio blasting static. “Who did you talk to?”

  Shaking her head, Barb’s eyelashes fluttered. “The radio went out. I talked to him for maybe two minutes. Uh, he said he was in Montana.”

  Tom burned his gaze to Hunter. “Montana?”

  Hunter’s curved brows framed sea-green eyes. “Was it Scotty? My baby brother?”

  “No, his name is Trevor. Trevor Wade? He spoke with a southern accent. We briefly compared notes. I told him we were in danger and he was reluctant to reveal information. But not in a suspicious way. I sensed he was cautious. He said their sky is green. He indicated they came across a man separated from his brother while camping.”

  “Has to be Scotty,” Hunter squealed.

  Barb cleared her throat. “Trevor said machinery doesn’t work. His story matches what we’ve experienced. But I’m burying the lead. We talked about a park ranger they met. Like us.”

  “A park ranger? It’s the government,” Emerson said.

  “He said the guy’s name is Nate Campbell. The same as our park ranger. And he described to a ‘t’ the guy we ran across.”

  “And the guy is suddenly missing,” Robin said. “Listen, did he say anything about ATF agents?”

  “No, but the park ranger turned and killed somebody in their group.”

  “Oh no, was it Scotty?” Hunter lunged against the rope tether.

  Emerson jerked him into place. “Easy, don’t make me choke you. And I still might shoot you just because you’ve been a pain in my backside.”

  Barb shivered. “He didn’t say who the ranger killed.”

  Tom mimed the incomplete pass signal like a referee. “Hold on, our ranger saved Gus’ life. What else did this Trevor guy say, Barb?”

  “Tom, your daughter might be with the guy I talked to. I heard him say her name before the radio went out.” Barb hesitated. “Him being in Montana and all…”

  “Yeah, it doesn’t sound like a coincidence.” Tom lifted his chin, burying emotion. “Davidson, what’s the range of a radio like this?”

  Shuffling his clean hiking boots across the cement floor, Davidson sucked his lips. “It can’t reach Montana.”

  “We have to account for the possibility this call came from close by and someone is trying to manipulate us.” Tom’s hard eyes found Robin. “Tell me something, ATF. Were you and your little band of merry men given personal details? Like my daughter’s name?”

  Robin shrugged and offered a sly, kid-caught-in-the-cookie-jar, face. “Merry men?”

  “Yeah, merry men. Jon Little, as in Little John. Gilbert Whitehead as in Gilbert with white hands and of course Robin from Sherwood forest. We’re not stupid with the code names. You have a Friar Tuck and Sheriff Nottingham running around here somewhere?”

  “You’re not far off. But as for your daughter, I’m not sure. Some of the, uh, Merry Men, were given information. The big boss tagged us with Merry Men.”

  Tom paced the office. “This line about Campbell might be a plant pushing us to a rash decision.”

  “Come on Cassidy,” Davidson boomed. “We drop doughboy the moment we lay eyes on him. We can’t take any chances.”

  “He saved the kid.” Tom kicked at the baseboard.

  “But Tom, what if it was a play to earn our trust? Maybe Gilbert fired at us so Nate could be the hero.” Barb crumpled on a cot in the office and let the radio fall from her hands. “On the other hand, I’m not sure how much trust we should put in Trevor. After all this radio belonged to Nate.”

  Tom snagged the radio. “I’m not saying to trust him one way or the other. What I’m saying is we can’t go all in and assume we got the truth from some guy claiming to be in Montana.”

  “It feels like manipulation for sure, Yank.” Emerson jiggled on Hunter’s leash. “And this boy here might’ve been a plant to sell this ‘talking to Montana’ nonsense.”

  “And this Robin chick has been lying to us all along,” Dixie snapped. “Sounds like this guy conveniently mentioned your daughter’s name like two seconds before the radio went out. Are you sure this wasn’t one of your group, Fake Robin?”

  “It could be one of them I guess.” Robin’s shoulders drooped.

  The plastic of the radio emitted heat as Tom fingered the base. “We proceed with caution, guys and get away from this area.”

  “To where?” Davidson asked.

  “Train station first. We hike through the night and get away from here.”

  Hibbert exploded into the office. “The tornado is repeating on a loop. It isn’t real. The wind is real, but the tornado is a light trick.”

  “Played by who? Or what?” Barb asked.

  “At this point, we assume everything and everyone is hostile.” Tom pointed to Hunter. “And Bull, you keep a close watch on him.” In two strides Tom reached Robin. “I’d feel better if you handed over your Glock.”

  Robin hesitated and cut her eyes. “I understand.”

  Chapter 35 – Louisiana Woman

  Reagan

  Hopping on her horse with the skill of an expert cowgirl, Reagan rode alongside Jon, who studied the map and located the school. Annabeth blasted first through the gym door. She held it open as Scotty fireman-carried Meredith. Travis Wayne released the draft horses from their harness. Granddad gripped one lead rope, Travis Wayne the other. The giant animals Reagan called Beau and Little Blackie were a tough fit through the door.

  Jasper led comatose Olivia into the gym. “Why are you bringing those smelly creatures inside?”

  “We can’t leave them out in a blizzard,” Annabeth croaked.

  The first two horses clomped across the basketball court. Reagan returned outside to help with the others. Kelly rode Silver through the door, grinning all the way. Jon trailed with the Buckskin reminding Reagan of a movie she watched as a child – Spirit. Scotty led Pongo and Reagan brought up the rear with Bailey.

  “What if those things get hungry?” Jasper asked as if they might turn hungry bellies on people.

  Travis Wayne left once more and returned with oats. “Mr. Tucker found this at the feed store.”

  Winds whipped outside as the blizzard blew in. T
he only window to the outside sat at the very top of the gym. With no electricity and little heat, the room grew dank.

  “You promised it would be warmer here,” Dawn said shivering.

  “It’s not any colder,” Granddad said.

  “Where are we supposed to sit?” Jasper flailed his arms. “Ah yes, the bleachers. Which are noted for comfort.”

  “We can probably start a fire in here.” Scotty rubbed his jaw. “I’ll grab a metal trash can.”

  Travis Wayne and Kelly moved the horses to the B gym as Granddad and Scotty built a fire. Once constructed, the eleven huddled near the blaze.

  Kelly leaned into Reagan. “Travis Wayne and I are going to check on the radio.” She pointed her finger to the locker room.

  Reagan concurred, not wanting the Caribou Crew to discover the radio. “Sounds good. Let me know if you get a bite.”

  Scanning the crew, Reagan noticed Jasper and the Caribou Crew huddled on the bleachers near the warm fire, while Annabeth and Scotty shot baskets. Granddad claimed the referee role. Scotty clanked a few off the rim before demonstrating dunking skills. With the ball bouncing on the gym floor, Reagan noted the green and blue wolfpack logo at center court. The smell of fresh varnish and burning newspapers filled the gymnasium. Voices, mostly from Granddad reverberated throughout the A-gym and traveled to Travis Wayne and Kelly in the locker room.

  After losing a game of H-O-R-S-E to Reagan’s tall, clumsy but good shooting sister, Heather Burge, Scotty held the ball underneath his arm. “She’s got better range than Larry Bird.”

  “Her issues come when you pair the shooting with the running, dribbling, and defending. She hasn’t grown into those clown feet yet.” Reagan winked.

  The teasing slid off Annabeth’s back. “You watch, I’ll make the team this year and lead the school in three-pointers.”

  “Wind’s still roaring out there.” Scotty spun the basketball on his finger. “Think it’ll let up soon?”

  “What’s the plan when it does?” Annabeth asked as she slapped and missed the spinning ball.

  “She doesn’t have the slightest idea,” Jasper snarled from the stands like a heckling fan.