Minus America (Book 3): Rebel Cause

by Isherwood, E. E.

Besides leaving Chicago, she had no idea where they should go next. The cordon around the disaster had turned out to be a false hope, so there was nowhere else worth going, as best she could tell. However, as the leader of her small troupe, she didn’t want to give the impression she had no ideas at all. “I was thinking of going back to my home in Bonne Terre. It’s the one place on earth where I think I can survive if we have to wait out these bastards.”

  They rode in silence for a few minutes before Audrey spoke up. “Can we come with?”

  Tabby stopped her bike, as did the others. “Of course you can. We’re in this together, you know? I’m not going to ditch you or anything like that. It’s important to me you know that, because Donovan would never forgive me if I ruined his memory by ditching his two friends.”

  “What, did you think she was going to leave us?” Peter asked Audrey in a tone of voice Tabby thought sounded like he wasn’t sure, either.

  Audrey huffed. “I don’t know. I’m scared shitless, I know that much. If Tabby left us, I don’t know what I’d do. Probably shoot myself.”

  “No!” Tabby blurted. “Never say such a horrible thing. No matter how bad it gets, you have to keep fighting. Keep running. Keep doing whatever it takes to stay alive. Donovan and all these people you see along the streets and in the cars, they’d do anything to be in your place. We honor them by staying alive.”

  Audrey gently tapped a little bicycle bell on her handlebars. “So, we’re going back toward home. I can handle that.” All three of them were from the same region, so it was going to be close to home no matter which house they ended up in. Perhaps they could rotate, to keep the memory of family fresh for all three of them.

  “Back to Missouri,” Tabby said with conviction.

  “To Missouri,” Audrey and Peter echoed.

  CHAPTER 8

  Montauk Lighthouse, NY

  Kyla had been standing in front of the lighthouse long enough that she began to doubt Uncle Ted would ever show up. Though she’d discussed it all in code, maybe they’d misinterpreted each other. If so, he could be waiting for her somewhere else at that moment. It would be one more mistake in a couple of days stuffed full of them.

  She looked back the way she’d come. Meechum and the captain were in the trees about twenty yards behind her, but the growth was so dense, she didn’t see either one. Were they going to come out and tell her to forget about the meetup?

  Kyla used her idle time to remember the last place she’d seen her uncle, besides seeing him from the helicopter. It hadn’t been too long ago—maybe a month. He had some time off from his flight duties and had come up to New York City to hang out with Mom for a while. They took a Saturday to drive up to Boston and visited the USS Constitution, an old sailing ship. She immediately saw the irony—in the span of a month, she’d been on the US Navy’s oldest commissioned ship and its newest. There was also a darker comparison to be made. A month ago, she was bored to tears on the tour, a little anxious for the trip to be over and looking forward to when Uncle Ted hit the road. Today, she couldn’t wait to see him.

  Uncle Ted won’t let me down.

  Mom always loved having her brother around and made a point of inviting him any chance she could. Kyla always attributed those visits to her being lonely, since Dad was long gone, but as she stood there waiting to see him, she found a new emotional state tied to her uncle. He always seemed to know what he was doing. He was put together and competent. For Kyla, that represented having a solid mentor and family member in a world gone mad, but for Mom, maybe he represented a calm center to her otherwise messed-up life.

  Uncle Ted was the military man with pressed uniforms who always made his bed. Mom was the woman who didn’t even own an iron, much less keep an orderly house. He was—

  An engine starting caught her attention. Was it Uncle Ted? One of the captain’s men? They’d gone into the woods to who knows where. Another survivor? The enemy?

  Kyla looked back to the captain, expecting him to pop his head out of the woods and give her some advice, but when that didn’t happen, she took a step off the walkway away from Meechum and Van Nuys. If there was any chance it was a bad guy, she didn’t want to give them away. Ever since Meechum had put it in her head to think more like a Marine, she tried to do justice to the suggestion.

  The motor didn’t sound like anything special. It wasn’t a motorcycle or a big truck. It sounded exactly like a normal car on a normal street. Her guess was confirmed when a white minivan came into view at the end of the walkway down by the lot. It paid no heed to the pedestrian-only signs but sped over the blowing clothes of dead tourists.

  She took a few more steps away from the pavement, but also stayed close to the lighthouse building. If the person meant to ram her, she didn’t want to be out in the clearing, and she wasn’t sure she could run to the woods before the van arrived.

  “Please be Uncle Ted,” she said quietly. If she’d been given the rifle, she would have it out and ready for action. Silently, she cursed Van Nuys. However, he’d failed to collect her pistol. She would yank it out if things got bad…

  The van accelerated up the walkway, but at the halfway point, the driver honked twice and waved a hand through the open side window. Like clockwork, Uncle Ted always did the same two-honk signal when he left Mom’s. It had to be him.

  The operator slammed on the brakes, causing the tires to grab onto the concrete, save for one front tire, which dragged a pair of jeans under it. She stutter-stepped back a few more paces and thought about reaching for her pistol, but the van turned sideways and stopped at the last second.

  “Get in!” Uncle Ted yelled through the open passenger-side window.

  She experienced a wave of confusion once she had confirmation it was him. She wanted to get in, desperately, but she didn’t want to leave Meechum. It was like both choices were wrong, and for a few seconds, she stood there processing a solution. Uncle Ted was right there, but the Marine was close by.

  “I have to get my friend, Meechum,” she lamented as she walked up to the door.

  “Just get in! I’ll explain when you’re inside.” He spoke forcefully, but also a bit on the quiet side, like someone might be listening.

  She did as instructed. Whatever he had in mind, she trusted his judgement. “Okay.”

  As soon as she shut the door, Uncle Ted put it in gear, spun the tires, and got the van pointed back down the walkway. He mashed the gas pedal, pushing her back into the seat, but then he slammed on the brakes a couple of seconds later. He also hung out the window on his side.

  “Becca, get in!” he shouted in a loud voice.

  Kyla’s heart leapt into her throat from anticipation.

  Mom’s alive?

  For a brief instant, Kyla expected her mom to come out of the trees; it would be a reunion for the ages. However, a small brunette woman popped her head up over some weeds and tall grass, looking like she wasn’t sure if she should come out. Uncle Ted waved her in. When she stood up, Kyla knew it wasn’t her mom, though it was a recognizable woman.

  “So, it was the vice president,” she said dryly.

  Montauk Lighthouse, NY

  “Why did you use Mom’s name?” Kyla asked in a depressed voice as Emily ran for the van’s sliding door.

  “Sorry, Kyla, it was the first name that came to mind. I didn’t want to use Emily’s name, in case those people you’re with are after her.” It didn’t take long for the VP to climb in the back, and Ted had them rolling before the door slid shut. He checked the rearview mirror and thought he saw movement back by the lighthouse, but he had to turn the wheel to get around parked cars. His attention was focused forward.

  “I guess it makes sense,” she replied. “Those aren’t bad guys. In fact, I have a good friend who helped me survive in the city. She was on the helicopter when you saw me yesterday.”

  “That was awesome,” Emily interjected from the back seat. “Your uncle was so happy to see you get out of there and we worried about you all night
, with all those planes fighting in the skies.”

  He guided the van around the parking lot, chirping the tires with abandon, and finally sped onto the two-lane road. There were plenty of trees to give them cover, so he let out a bit of the tension in his spine, but he didn’t relax yet.

  Kyla turned in her seat to face Emily. “It’s nice to meet you, Madame Vice President. Me and my mom are big fans…” She let her voice trail off, and Ted assumed she was still upset about how he’d used Rebecca’s name.

  “It’s great to meet you, too. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you. This guy has been trying to get to you since all this started.” Emily reached from the back seat to shake hands with his niece.

  “What happened to your face?” he asked Kyla. It looked like she’d been in a fight; one of her cheeks was swollen and purple.

  The girl laughed. “You know that friend I mentioned? Her name is Lance Corporal Meechum. She kicked me in the face. By accident.”

  “Uh huh,” he replied distractedly, clicking his tongue in thought.

  He didn’t have time for further small talk, as much as he wanted to catch up. In the short time he’d been in the van, he’d formulated a plan to shake off the soldiers who were with Kyla. When she was somewhere safe, and they could take more than sixty seconds to talk, he could establish more about who they were, whether they could be trusted, and how they were going to get Emily to real safety. “Guys, it’s not going to take them long to find us. This is the only road down on this end of Long Island. We can’t escape on it. So, what I’m going to do is let you out.”

  Ted jammed on the brakes, sending Kyla toward the dashboard and Emily toward the back of his seat. “You guys should wear seatbelts,” he chuckled.

  “Thanks for the warning,” Emily snarked.

  “Yeah, where’d you learn to drive?” Kyla added.

  “I can see having two side-seat drivers is going to be Hell.” He smiled at them both as they straightened out. “But listen, go into the woods and get to the boat. Emily knows how to pilot it.”

  “Wait!” Kyla exclaimed. “We can’t leave. My friends are with the FAST Marines. They say they really need to catch up to her.” She pointed to Emily. “They said they have to get a message to her, or more people are going to die.”

  “FAST Marines?” Emily asked. “It sounds familiar, but I don’t remember the acronym.”

  Kyla’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t remember, either.”

  “Fleet Antiterrorism Security Teams,” Ted replied in a businesslike tone. “We dealt with them a couple of times when we traveled to overseas ports where our Navy had basing rights.”

  “Yes,” Kyla agreed. “They knew something about this terrorist attack. They were on the JFK because they tried to get ahead of it, but they were as surprised as everyone else when all the sailors disappeared.”

  He pushed the button to open the sliding door on the passenger side, then he turned to face both women. “Listen, we don’t know who we can trust outside this van. Get to the boat, then go to Martha’s Vineyard. I’ll go down to the airfield we passed and get myself over there as soon as I can.”

  “Why can’t we all go in the boat?” Kyla asked.

  “He’s going to play the hero,” Emily said in a I’m-not-impressed voice. “So we can get away.”

  Put like that, he did feel a little dramatic about the whole thing, but he wasn’t going to underestimate the enemy, even for a second. As long as no one saw the women get out of the van, they’d think they were with him. He’d drive around for a little bit—long enough to let Emily get the boat over to the next island. If the men who’d brought Kyla were the good guys, then there’d be no harm, no foul. If they were the bad guys…

  It was a good plan…as long as they got out at that moment.

  “Please, get out. Let me do my thing, and you two do yours. This is going to work.”

  Neither woman seemed to believe him, but Emily slid out the side door. “Come on. You and I will probably end up saving him, anyway.” The VP smiled sideways at Ted, inserting a pang of regret in his side, probably as she’d intended.

  Kyla opened the door, but she hesitated. “I barely got a chance to say hello after finding you again. If you die, I won’t have anyone left.”

  He opened his mouth, thinking he was going to have to comfort her, but she went on. “So, don’t die, Unk.”

  She hopped out, slammed the door shut, and ran into the woods behind Emily.

  They grow up so fast.

  Amarillo, TX

  Brent launched into a little pep talk as he stood at the threshold of the building. “Gentlemen, I know I’m supposed to represent the law, or whatever, out here, but everything changed when they attacked this great nation. When we walk through these doors, I’m giving us all permission to take whatever we need to fight back. It isn’t theft; it’s commandeering. Do you understand?”

  The ex-convicts all nodded and mumbled agreement.

  “Then let’s get this over with. You all know what we need.” He led the way through the sliding glass doors of the Walmart. The power was off, so they had to pull them manually, but it didn’t take long. Once inside, there were a few dim emergency lights in the ceiling, which cast a twilight ambiance over all the aisles, including the fallen clothes of the vanished shoppers.

  “Let’s add flashlights to our list,” he said matter-of-factly. “They’ll be in sporting goods. I’ll grab the batteries.”

  “I need one of these,” Andre said in a business-like tone as he grabbed a huge flat panel TV set up near the front door. He was normally a quiet man, mid-forties, who’d been sent up the river because he set up a fake charity and collected online funds from it.

  He and Carter were cellmates, so Carter was closest to him after he’d said it. “The hell you do. It wouldn’t even fit in our cell.”

  “So, we’ll get a bigger cell,” Andre joked. “Better yet, I’ll kick you out and put it on your bed.”

  “Be my guest, you no good—”

  “No extras,” Brent chided, knowing they were kidding.

  Carter looked back as he walked away. “If that TV is in our truck when we get outside, I’m chucking it back out.”

  Everyone laughed as they split up, each going to their assigned goals. Brent thought he’d done a good job of explaining what they were doing, and the men held together remarkably well for a random bunch of survivors from a state prison. However, no matter how many supplies they took from the store, or how many guns they collected, it would be dangerous business trying to fight the invaders. His acid reflux was at the high-water mark in his stomach, suggesting he make a pit stop in the pharmacy section to stock up on antacids.

  One old coot leading young guns against the most destructive terrorist group in history. What could go wrong?

  It all came together a half-hour later. Some of the men had lingered, leading him to wonder if they’d stocked up on illicit gear like smokes and booze, or, god forbid, fifty-inch televisions, but he didn’t make a big deal out of it. They were all volunteers, and he didn’t think they’d respond well to true military discipline.

  “All right. Good job. We’ve got backpacks, flashlights, FRS radios, and all the shotgun ammo we can carry. Is there anything we’re missing?” He glanced around at them, sure he saw a few extra gold necklaces and watches. Did Walmart even have jewelry worth stealing?

  “Can we have a crack at the front registers?” one of the guys asked. Others laughed.

  He sighed. “Frankly, I don’t care. Grab all the money, if you want, but I don’t think it will do you any good. No one’s around to take it if you wanted to buy something. The government itself isn’t around, either. It’s basically worthless paper.”

  That seemed to settle them.

  “However, I see some of you now have watches on. I want you all to go to the watch section and get your own watch. We’ll want to synchronize them so we’re all on the same time, down to the second.”

  “Why is
that, boss?” one of the guys asked.

  “Because when we attack those bastards, we have to do it at the same time, or some of us could die.”

  That really shut them up.

  CHAPTER 9

  Montauk Airfield, NY

  Ted suffered guilt for letting both women out of his sight, as it went against his keep-them-close protective wiring, but he was convinced the decoy gambit was their only viable option. After swooping in and stealing Kyla without a shot, he didn’t want to depend on surprise again. If anyone was going to fire guns, it would be at him, not her. It was the very least he could do for Rebecca to take care of her only daughter.

  After dropping them off, he continued on the narrow forest road for another few miles until he found the airfield. The tiny airport was a far cry from the one in Harrisburg. It had no terminals, towers, or National Guard station. Instead, it only had one small shack serving as the radio and control center, with a dozen parked single-engine craft nearby. At least it was paved. He’d been on smaller fields that were literally strips of grass.

  Finding an operational aircraft was a lot more difficult, however. It didn’t look like any of the planes had been caught taxiing during the attack, so there weren’t any conveniently-placed Cessnas ready for him to borrow.

  On a hunch, he went into the radio shack. Small fields like the one at Montauk were often manned by volunteers, and those volunteers almost always had a love of flight that drew them to the lifestyle, including ownership of planes. He went right for the bundle of clothing piled on a chair by the radio; the keys were inside one of his pockets.

  From there, it only took a little effort to find the right plane out on the tarmac. It took him about six tries, but he found the right one as helicopter rotors echoed in the distance. At first, he listened to see if maybe the aircraft was heading for open water, and his friends, but it surprised him when it swooped in over the trees about midway down the airstrip.

  “Oh, shit!” he cried out.

  Ted didn’t go anywhere without his rifle, but the Seahawk helicopter banked around about twenty feet above the trees, which gave the door gunner plenty of time to zero in on him. Fighting back against an M240 machine gun was suicide. There was no way to get in the plane and take off. He couldn’t run for cover either. He was out in the open in the middle of the plane parking lot. It wasn’t bad strategy on his part, but it was bad luck.