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Minus America (Book 3): Rebel Cause

Page 11

by Isherwood, E. E.


  It made sense. “We could drift our way across the ocean! They couldn’t destroy every sailboat and dingy loose out there.” They’d already seen plenty of boats on the water. Any of those small ones could survive the voyage, though fuel would give out long before they made it to Europe. A larger ship, like the ferry, might have enough fuel to go the distance. It was an idea to keep in her back pocket.

  “We’ll park alongside this dock. At least we’ll know we have one option of escape at our command if we don’t find your uncle right away.” Emily guided the boat next to an empty wooden pier, and Kyla jumped out and secured the mooring ropes to a pair of cleats.

  Together, they walked the pier toward the shore. Emily carried her rifle and the holstered pistol. Kyla only had her pistol tucked into her belt.

  Ahead of them, they entered a pleasant street filled with seafood restaurants, boat rental shops, and tourist trinket kiosks. The summertime clothes strewn all over the sidewalks reminded her she was dressed like a Marine. Though she was grateful for Meechum giving her clothes to wear besides her fast-food-styled polo shirt, she wanted to dress more to her taste and comfort. There was no way she could be convinced to pick up any of the clothing belonging to the missing tourists, but there were lots of shops.

  “Do you think I have time to run in and change?” she asked, stopping suddenly at an open storefront. When Emily turned around, Kyla motioned to her own attire, as if it would be obvious why she needed new threads.

  Emily relaxed, then looked inside the windows. “Be quick. I could use a change of clothes myself. These have been in the ocean. Twice. I feel like I’ve taken these jeans as far as I can without washing them.”

  She went inside with Emily. Eighties music played in the background, and the cheery lighting made the place seem normal. But it was nice she didn’t need money. It was like winning a radio contest where she could buy anything in the store, as long as she did it within three minutes. Emily ran around and yanked clothes off the racks, then hurried into the changing room, even though there was no one else around. Kyla changed right on the main floor.

  When Emily came out and saw Kyla buttoning her new shorts, she laughed. “I guess old habits are going to stick with me for a while. You’re younger. Obviously, you’ve adapted to having no one else around.”

  Kyla shook her head. “I didn’t think about it. I’d change in front of a crowd if it meant we can get going to my uncle that much faster. I can only imagine what he and Meechum are doing right now without us. Probably building a tank or something.” She laughed at the image.

  “That sounds like him. Hey, what do you think?” Emily half-turned to show her flowery outfit. She’d put on a sleeveless summer dress that ended a little below her knees. The pink and teal flowers went perfectly with the dress’s white background, giving it a happy, summery look. “It’s less formal than I would like, but this is a beach bum kind of place. There isn’t much here for the business-minded woman.”

  Before Kyla could respond, Emily pointed to her feet. “Plus these. My other boots were soaked, and these were the only things I could find, besides flipflops.” She’d found a pair of thick, black combat boots that went up to mid-shin. Emily was a pretty woman, so the look worked for her, but she appeared anything but professional.

  “It’ll all come together when you pick up your rifle,” Kyla joked. “How do I look?” she went on. She spun around, too, but was inexplicably self-conscious about her appearance in front of the important woman. Instead of a feminine dress, she’d pulled a random pair of olive drab cargo shorts off the rack and matched it with a sky-blue T-shirt. It had a lobster outline on the front, with the words If you pinch me, I’ll bite stenciled above it, and Martha’s Vineyard below.

  “For a five-minute shopping spree, I think we both did pretty good.” Emily grabbed her rifle, but she didn’t know what to do with the pistol. There was no belt to tuck it in, nor did the dress have pockets. “Oh, wow, I didn’t think this through.” The VP glanced around the place, then grabbed a fashionable over-the-shoulder beach bag. The pistol dropped right in. “Solved!”

  “Good call,” Kyla replied. Her cargo shorts had pockets barely big enough for her fingers, so she was forced to put Carthager’s pistol back in her waistband.

  “Come on, we’ve wasted enough time,” Emily huffed as she headed for the door. Before she went out, she yanked a pair of sunglasses off the spinny-rack near the exit. She held them up for Kyla. “Snag a pair. It helps to have eye protection when we’re firing guns.”

  “Listen to the vice president,” Kyla mused. “She’s got fashion sense and a mind honed for combat.”

  They went outside, sunglasses on and rifles over their shoulders, but Emily held her back. “You know, I never wanted any of this. My political career has been based on non-violence and helping people. What we’ve been forced to do is…”

  “It blows chunks,” Kyla interjected. “I know. I won’t think any different of you. You’ve got my vote, no matter what.”

  Emily cracked up. “That’s the last thing on my mind. Getting you back to your uncle is what really matters. He’s been looking forward to this since I met him. Let’s get over to the airport and do this.”

  They easily found another car and got it started. Emily drove like she knew where to go. Kyla really hoped being reunited with Uncle Ted would end the nightmare, but Meechum had taught her to be suitably cautious. She’d seen it herself in New York City. No matter if they escaped by boat or plane or anything else that moved, the fight was far from over.

  Still, when they pulled up to the airport and she caught sight of Uncle Ted with Meechum next to him, she forgot all about her horrible attire.

  “Uncle Ted!”

  Martha’s Vineyard Airport, MA

  “Uncle Ted!”

  Those were the sweetest words Ted had heard the entire week. His niece ran into his arms and they hugged for a moment, until the barrel of her rifle bonked him in the head. “Whoa! Where’d you get this hardware from?”

  Kyla took a step back. “You won’t believe it! When that guy said to kill us on the radio, Emily and I both got out our pistols and shot the bastard dead. Then, when another guy came out of the woods, we killed him, too.”

  Meechum came up next to Ted but looked at Kyla. “So, you learned a few things at the firing range, huh?”

  Kyla nodded enthusiastically. “I kept my breathing calm. I aimed with my dominant eye. Then I squeezed the trigger, like you showed me a million times.” Without prompting, she lunged for the Marine and gave her a hug, too.

  “I’m more worried about your outfit,” Meechum said dryly.

  Kyla jumped away like she had a week’s worth of pent up energy. “Yeah, I look like a tourist. The uniform was too uncomfortable. Besides, it takes off some of the pressure. When I dress like a Marine, people expect me to do heroic things. At least, that’s how I feel.”

  “Sounds like you did some heroic things anyway,” he suggested.

  He’d been talking to the two ladies, so he almost missed when Emily came around her borrowed car. Like Kyla, she’d changed since he’d last seen her. Now, she wore a shapely little dress which made her seem the opposite of presidential. A colorful scrunchy bunched her brunette locks into one big ponytail. The oversized combat boots made her seem more like a broody teenager than the leader of the free world. However, cleaned up as she was, he had to admit she was extremely pretty.

  Ted wanted to compliment her in some way, but he couldn’t think of anything appropriate in the moment. He diverted his eyes from where they wanted to go and instead saluted her. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the President of the United States.” He remained serious for a couple of seconds, but then had to laugh.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Emily said, “yuck it up, funny guy. I can have you demoted, you know.”

  “Is she officially the president?” Meechum asked, glancing over at her like she was seeing her for the first time.

  Ted turned her way, to all
eviate his discomfort at how Emily was dressed. “Yep. I was at the White House. The president died in the attack. She’s the next in line, if we ever get the country running again.”

  Meechum whistled quietly, like she was impressed. “That changes everything. We figured Tanager was dead, which is why we wanted to get to Ms. Williams, but I guess this makes it official…” She gave Emily a belated but proper salute.

  “Please, none of that is necessary. I may be the president on paper, but I’m deferring to Major MacInnis for my security. I never even dreamed about a scenario this dire.” She gestured for Meechum to step closer. “When we came in, we saw a big ferry beached up in the port. If we could free her, we might be able to put out to sea.”

  “No,” Meechum interjected. “You can’t, ma’am. The reason we were trying to find you is that…well, normally this would be classified…” She glanced at Ted and Kyla.

  Emily caught on immediately. “Whatever you can say to me, you can say to them. We’re way past classified and top secret, you know?”

  Kyla stepped forward and held up a finger. “Wait! Are you saying the president can tell us if there are aliens at Area 51 and all that? If so, I’d really like to know.”

  He flashed her a look of disapproval, though he gave Emily a sideways glance. It was an excellent question.

  Emily appeared torn, and he wondered if Kyla had hit upon a hot topic. She leaned closer to Kyla and waved him and Meechum closer. “I did hear about an above top-secret memo about aliens. Do you want to know what it said?”

  He leaned in harder than the girls. “Hell yeah, I do.”

  She smiled. “So do I!”

  Ted rolled his eyes as Emily and the others laughed. “There’s no such things as aliens. Not as far as I know,” she amended. “Now, Lance Corporal Meechum, please tell us what you know.”

  “Of course,” the Marine replied. “The reason I came looking for you is that you have the codes for the nuclear briefcase. If we can get you to the missile base in Minot, North Dakota, we can deprogram the entire defense system.”

  Emily absently rubbed the waistline of her dress. “Why would we need to do that?” She paused for a second and lit up. “It’s so they can’t use it!”

  “Right,” Meechum replied. “It might already be too late, but we think there’s still a chance they haven’t figured out what needs to be done. It isn’t something commonly known to government agencies. If they had traitors on the inside, it’s still unlikely they knew how to re-program the whole system.”

  “Do you know how to do it?” Kyla asked the Marine.

  “No. I was hoping she did.”

  All eyes went to Emily, even his.

  Folsom, CA

  As much as Dwight wanted to get on his motorcycle and disappear in the farmlands of the Central Valley, he had no choice but to stick with Bernard and the larger group of motorcyclists. They went east for another hour, traveling through the empty city of Sacramento along the way. The crowded buildings tempted him to make a run for it there, but he admitted he was too scared to risk it. The men around him were willing to kill innocent people by shooting them and then dropping them off bridges. What would they do to him? A guy who shouldn’t even be there…

  When they reached the next city, the bikers began to peel off in blocks of five or six. He stayed close to Bernard, mainly because he didn’t know anyone else. When he saw Bernard turn down a side street along with a small group of his own, Dwight followed. Eventually, they turned down another street lined with single-story storefronts. It reminded him of an old-school mall without a roof.

  Bernard pointed to each man, and the bikers drove toward stores where he motioned to them. When he got to Dwight, he did a doubletake, then pulled next to him so they could both put their feet down. “You aren’t part of my team. Did you get lost again?”

  Poppy squawked from the gutter of a nearby building.

  Yeah, I’ll be careful, he thought.

  “I’ve been lost this whole time, Bernie. Can I ride with you until we get where we’re going?”

  Bernard smiled. “We’re there, friend. And sure, why not? It will help me meet my target that much quicker. Then we can go to the designated hotel and relax until the big show tomorrow.”

  That sounded good to him. If he could get himself alone in a room, maybe he’d get the opportunity to flee he’d been waiting for. Surely, they couldn’t watch him every second of the day. The first thing he was going to do was find a—

  “Right here!” Bernard gestured toward one of the shops. “This is your place.” It was a sporting goods store he’d never heard of. Since he didn’t have to move, he shut off his motor. Bernard sped down the street about fifty yards before he stopped, too.

  The other men walked around, holding the flamethrower poles that had been secured to the backs of their bikes. He took his off and tried to mimic what the nearest man was doing. He seemed to turn a crank, push a button, then hold the metallic pole a bit like a gun.

  Poppy cackled from above the sporting goods store.

  “No, I won’t shoot my eye out. Where do you get such crazy ideas?” He spoke low, so none of the men would hear him. “I don’t know what we’re doing, but I’m getting out of this as soon as I can. Keep your eyes sharp. Help me, Poppy.”

  Before she could answer, one of the men down the line seemed to explode with fire…

  “Good night!” he spit out. The man’s hose had a jet of fuel shooting from the end, and it turned into a long stream of fire. The splashing flames went through the glass store front, as well as soak the wooden façade on the front.

  The next black-clad man in line did the same thing. He aimed his flamethrower at a building, unleashed the spray of liquid by itself for a second, then it ignited and sent flames in an arc to the wooden structure.

  “Oh, crap.” It was his turn. He had to keep up appearances, so he tried his best to mimic them. He squeezed a trigger, which unleashed the flow, then he searched for a trigger or button for the spark. It took him a few extra seconds, but he found the red button on the side of the handle. Once he pressed that, an intense heat hit his face.

  He was suddenly holding a cone of flames shooting directly through the front doors of the store thirty feet away. The pressure was strong enough to send the fire well into the store. When he let off the throttle, the flamethrower kicked off, and he saw his handiwork: fire quickly spread in there.

  Bernard also had his flamethrower operating. The whole group sprayed, then lit, then shut off, then moved to an adjacent store.

  Dwight figured he had no choice. He sparked it up again and threw the flames all over the front of the store, then, like the others, he aimed for the neighboring buildings. He was out of juice less than a minute later; he was the last one to finish.

  He slung the business end into the holster and was finally free to see the damage they’d done. The entire street reminded him of a valley, with walls of fire on the outsides, and him and the bikes on the pavement in the middle.

  Poppy screamed at him from up above.

  “No, I didn’t mean to burn your feathers. Come down from there!” In seconds, they’d laid waste to a quarter of a mile of storefront, and the fire would certainly spread to the untouched buildings close by, and probably the homes and businesses behind them.

  Why are they doing this?

  CHAPTER 15

  In the air over Lake Huron

  Ted eventually chose the P.180 Avanti as their ride. It was a distinctive twin-engine turboprop aircraft with large wings in the back and two small wings near the nose, making it look like it had whiskers. Other than the looks, he’d selected it for its ability to make the flight from Massachusetts to North Dakota in one hop. Some of the other planes were nicer and could go faster, but the Avanti also had the most fuel, so that won the day.

  Once they took off, he’d gone directly north to avoid New York City and the chaos at Newark. He kept as low to the ground as possible on the way out, but once he was tw
o states away, he figured he’d be outside the radar range of any airport in the New York area, so he leveled out at a more comfortable, and less dangerous, cruising altitude.

  Emily sat in the co-pilot’s chair, though she wasn’t familiar with the cockpit. On the way up, he’d shown her what he knew, though he had only seen the avionics in the model one other time. They took turns working the controls to give her more experience; it paid to be prepared.

  “You haven’t said much since I came back,” Emily said from behind her fashionable sunglasses. “Anything you want to talk about?”

  At first, he was going to tell her she was way off the mark, but he begrudgingly admitted she was right, to a degree. Finding and saving Kyla was a huge burden off his shoulders, but now he was directly responsible for her safety. To make it all worse, the pragmatic Marine told him he had to take her toward danger, not away.

  “I like your beach bag. It looks like you’re on spring break.” The colorful bag sat behind her seat. She’d showed him it was where she kept her pistol.

  “Ted?” she sassed, knowing that wasn’t what was bothering him.

  He sighed, beaten. “Do you think I could convince Kyla to wear a parachute, so I could toss her out over Canada?” The direct route to North Dakota had them going over Canadian territory. If he threw her out, he’d get her away from the possible danger of going to the missile base, though traveling north of the border was no picnic, either. The intel he’d heard while on Air Force Two suggested most of Canada had been taken out.

  “Hell no,” Emily said right away. “She’s definitely not going to back away from any fight. She didn’t flinch when she had to kill those traitors, Ted. I think she wants to impress you, and her Marine drill sergeant.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, Meechum is one serious badass. Normally, I’d have some concerns about my daughter hanging out with a Marine, but in this case, I think it has done wonders for her. Boy, I tell you, my sister would have hated to see her carrying guns and…” A bubble of sadness welled up, knowing he’d never see Rebecca again. However, he fought it back down. “And carrying on like a Marine.”

 

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