Extinction Level Event (Book 4): Rescue

by Jones, K. J.

  “I know where Boston is, baby girl.”

  She smiled.

  “Sullivan. Okay. Me and my little book are ready.”

  She gave the number. “We’re using her as the phone tree hub.”

  “For how long? The virus heading north back east.”

  “I know. But there are members of my group whose families are west of the river.”

  Brandon motioned for the pad and pen. He wrote his family’s number, then handed it to Ben.

  “I got more numbers, Daddy.”

  “What’s the names first.”

  “Of course. First one’s Pell. Spelled like Bell but with a – ”

  “P. Okay. I’m at P. Ready.”

  “I need to talk to my daughter.”

  “We need these numbers first, darling. Before all hell breaks out on us.”

  Mazy gave him the number. “Next one … Ben, what letter, under R for Raven or W for Wilson?”

  “I don’t know,” said Ben.

  “Daddy, you’re gonna be calling my boyfriend’s, um, my new boyfriend’s grandfather. He is a Lakota Sioux.”

  Her step-father chuckled. “Okay then. Time different there. Got ya. Sioux? You know you’re part Houma Indian?”

  “Yes, Daddy. I know. My boyfriend’s name is Ben Raven. But his granddaddy’s surname is Wilson. George Standing Bear Wilson.”

  His warm baritone voice chuckled. “Gotta love the names.”

  “Yes, sir. Ben’s is Running Elk.”

  “Can’t wait to meet him and ask him why he’s named that?”

  “Yes, sir.” She smiled.

  “Gimme that number, baby girl.”

  She read it off the pad.

  “I’ll be sure to call all these folks. I got my cell phone charger in the car already.”

  “Good.”

  “Mazy,” her mother’s voice. “We love you so, so much.”

  “We do,” her sister yelled.

  “I love all y’all so, so much too. Miss you. We’ll find each other again. I promise. I will one day find y’all.”

  Her mother’s voice sobbed as she said, “We’ll find each other.”

  “We’ll be together again,” her sister yelled.

  Tears slid down her cheeks.

  “You live in our hearts, baby girl. Always.”

  “Always and forever,” Mazy replied.

  “No distance can change that.”

  “Never.”

  “We’ll dance in Congo Square again for Mardi Gras, together.”

  “Amen.”

  Eric gave the signal.

  “I’m told I must go.”

  “Love you so, so much. Forever and always. So grateful you’re okay.”

  “Be strong, Mama. For me.”

  “We’ll be together again, my child.”

  “Again.”

  They said more goodbyes, and as soon as Mazy disconnected, she rushed into Ben’s arms to weep. He held her tightly. Phebe rubbed her back.

  “Ben,” Eric said. “Are you next?”

  Ben nodded.

  Mazy released him and grabbed the tissue box. Phebe slid to the floor beside her and put her arm around her. They soon gently rocked back and forth. Mazy’s head resting on Phebe’s shoulder.

  “They’re going west. How will I get to them?”

  “We never know what’s around the next corner. Okay?”

  Ben took a big breath before taking up the headset. He stood and paced as he listened to the ring.

  All eyes went to him when the words out of his mouth were not English. He spoke Lakota to Standing Bear.

  His tone remained stoic. No one understood a word, except tatanka from Dances with Wolves. He was asking about the buffalo herd.

  Ben said to them, “They’re safe for now.”

  Matt nodded.

  Ben gave him the upright index finger to wait.

  Not understanding his words to eavesdrop on his conversation, they saw him smile, then heard their names.

  “He’s telling the medicine man what assholes we are,” said Peter.

  Ben gestured for the pad.

  “Do we have Luciana Reyes’s number?” he asked Peter.

  “I got it in my cell.” Matt unplugged his phone.

  Eric seemed oblivious to them, except when to tell them the time had lapsed. He typed on the keyboard and moved the mouse. The monitors held computer programming language. He was hacking something, maybe the board itself.

  He said over his shoulder, “Chicago has extreme riots, looting, and fires.”

  “Why does that place always burn down?” Peter shook his head.

  “Crime rate is up by over one thousand percent.”

  “Never heard that percentage before,” said Phebe.

  “Everything’s new,” commented Peter. “No wonder she left. Where the hell are the rest of their relatives? I’m thinking southwest. That has a lot of Mexicans.”

  Mazy blew her nose into a tissue.

  “Means a phone call to Luciana.” Peter dropped back against the leather sofa, hands on his head. This would be the toughest call yet.

  Matt showed the number on his cell display to Ben, who repeated the numbers to Grandfather.

  When Eric gave the time signal, Ben finished his call. He remained standing, staring, thinking.

  “What did you tell him?” Mazy asked after a patient wait time.

  “Um. A lot. He knows about you.”

  “I should hope so after I told my family about you.”

  He smiled at her. Eyes sparkling.

  Peter nudged Phebe and gestured his chin at Ben.

  She smiled.

  Ben’s eyes looked the way Peter’s did when he looked at her. It was love.

  “Anything about the animals?” Matt asked. “I heard you say something about buffalo.”

  “Yeah. Grandfather knows about the cull order. But the buffalo are protected. But the word is Congress may be overturning this.”

  “Why?”

  “Apparently herds of animals are being infected and can become extremely dangerous.”

  “Was he surprised to hear from you?” Mazy asked.

  “He had seen visions of us in the sweat lodge.”

  “That’s awesome,” said Peter. “My family is so lame.”

  Matt remained intense on the topic. “Are there ponies on the res?”

  “Yeah,” answered Ben. “But that’s a precarious legal situation. Congress demands the culling order to apply to First Nations protected land. He said the people are outraged. There’s a lot of breakdown occurring between the reservations and the federal government. And the tribes are arming. Not just Rosebud. It’s all over the Lakota Nation.” His gaze moved to the floor. “Some are saying it is time for the Ghost Dance.”

  Eric swiveled his chair to pay attention. “Ghosts?”

  “Yeah. Not quite yours, brother.”

  “What is it?” Peter asked.

  “The Ghost Dance is for the ancestors to rise up and kill all white people.”

  “Damn. Had a feeling it was gonna go that way.”

  Ben shrugged. “A lot of the Lakota Nation harbor desire for our world returned. And vengeance. We were of the last to fall to the United States. We kept fighting in the twentieth century. The Lakota Nation may rise up during this.”

  “Well,” said Peter. “That’s not a place for anyone else to go then.”

  “Men like Grandfather are trying to calm this. He doesn’t believe in the hate. Medicine men are too wise to the ways of what you could call the Universe. There are challenges. Tests of warriors. We are in a change now, for example. He believes the ancestors will rise, but to aid in the future. Not to cast revenge.”

  “The ancestors have risen,” said Eric.

  “Yeah.” Ben wasn’t sure what Eric meant by that. He turned to Matt. “I asked Grandfather.”

  “And?” Matt’s shoulders tight and tense, prepared for the worst.

  “He said there are white and red men moving ho
rses and cattle away from their designated land to the old grazing lands. Except up to Calgary. Canada’s guarding their borders. Relatively speaking. For them. Not exactly machine guns along the border.”

  Matt’s hands on his narrow hips. He shifted his weight to his right foot. “Is this he knows or is this in the sweat lodge?”

  “Bit of both.”

  “Hmm.”

  “You have had visions in the sweat lodge.”

  “I have.” Matt rubbed the stubble on his scarred cheek. “That I have.”

  “But you want it confirmed.”

  Matt’s gaze met his eyes. “They’re my family, brother.”

  Ben nodded.

  Eric said, “It needs to change connection. Can y’all wait?”

  It was still weird when he said y’all.

  “Yeah,” said Matt. “I guess.”

  Peter sighed. “The Reyes call.” He looked at Ben.

  “Any way I can make that just you?”

  “Don’t be like that, Sioux warrior brave. Where’s the brave in brave?”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Irishman. This is worse than any combat.”

  “I wish I could get a girl to do this.”

  Phebe slapped his leg.

  “Sorry. A woman.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  He smiled at her. “You do all those emotions so much better.”

  “I have a headache from crying.”

  Mazy, beside her, said, “Yeah. More reason to not cry anymore.”

  2.

  “I would not count on this connection lasting forever,” said Eric.

  Matt stopped at the door. He wanted to jog or go to the punching bag. Something physical to get his emotions out.

  “Does that mean it’s time?” Peter had turned to whiskey. Microbrew was not strong enough for what loomed.

  The women had left. Ben remained since he had been good friends with Julio.

  Peter leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Which one first?”

  “Flip a coin,” said Ben.

  “Matt, you in this? You knew Jimbo best.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “I was leader.”

  “Would you just fucking do things my way for once?”

  “Whoa. Okay then. All you, dude. Go for it.”

  Matt made the call to East Texas. Jimbo’s mother.

  Peter was glad to not be involved. There was a lot of Jesus talk. Jimbo’s mother was a born-again Christian.

  The time came. Luciana Reyes. Matt had the number in his cell. He apparently had every number ever to exist in his cell. Peter had no idea where his own cell phone was anymore. Although, he knew his laptop had survived the EMP hit. But where that was nowadays, he wasn’t so sure. Everything was weird on the trawler.

  Headphones on. The phone rang through the speaker.

  A female voice answered, “Hello? Who is this please?”

  “Luciana.” He cleared his throat. “This is Sullivan.”

  “Oh, God. Is he …?”

  “Um, yeah.” He clenched his eyes tightly closed. “He is.” He fought the emotional surge.

  “I’m in the car. We’re on our way to Santa Fe.” Her voice broke. “Chicago was bad. There are riots again.”

  “He wanted you to leave since the BLM riots.”

  “I know.” She sniffled.

  He figured Julio’s teenagers were in the car with her. She didn’t want to upset them.

  “We have a convoy of both of our families. And we are armed. There’s crime everywhere.”

  “You got across the river west alright?”

  “There were thousands of cars. Bumper to bumper all day. They’re closing in the morning.”

  “I heard.”

  “How are you hearing … where are you?”

  “In the Zone. South Carolina.”

  “Did he … was it good or bad? Did he …”

  “Oh, no. He didn’t turn. He was shot. He was protecting us. I’m married with a baby on the way.”

  “That is good. You need that. Was he protecting her?”

  “Yes. He loved her. Called her chica all the time. She kind of looks like Maria.”

  “Did he call her mija?”

  “Nuh, he stuck with chica.”

  “It would hurt his heart if she looks like our Maria.”

  He smiled, thinking of his friend.

  “He loved you, Sullivan. And you saved his life. I’ll always be grateful to you.”

  “Uhm.” Another throat clearing. “Yeah. I have another close friend of his here. Do you know Ben Raven?”

  “I do. Put him on, please.”

  Peter handed the headset to Ben.

  “Hi, Luciana. I am so sorry.”

  Peter handed up to Ben the pad. But she was driving.

  “Um …?” Ben looked at Eric. “Can we text?”

  “Does she have a Facebook account? That would be the easiest way from here.”

  With Luciana having to play it cool in front of her kids, they had to cut the conversation short. As a Delta Force wife, she had been fearing the death notification call for years.

  Eric connected his own Facebook account to hers and sent her the phone numbers. Her phone chimed through the speaker, conveying she had received the text. She thanked them.

  Disconnecting from her felt like they were letting her down.

  “Well,” said Peter. “I feel like drinking heavily.”

  “I really wish this hacker had some weed.”

  “She does,” Eric said over his shoulder. “Preserved. Probably stale. But still, it’s in the freezer in the kitchen.”

  “It’s something.”

  “She has everything. Shrooms. Pills.”

  “No,” said Peter. “Throw those pills into the bay.”

  3.

  “To our friends and family.” Peter poured chilled champagne into Waterford crystal flute glasses.

  The whole group, even Eric, gathered at the dining room tables to celebrate connecting with family. Though the news wasn’t wonderful on what was happening outside the Zone, just to hear the familial voices gave a refreshed lease on life.

  Matt popped the cork of another bottle.

  A sparkling apple cider for Ben and Phebe.

  Angela had returned at hearing the news. The allied tribe was anxious to hear what was going on out there. And those who had family beyond the Zone, the possibility of talking to them.

  “We have now two sources of electricity,” said Matt. “HAM radio that reaches a little outside the Zone.”

  “Not to mention the thing Eric rigged.” Mazy beamed in a gorgeous smile that touched her eyes.

  “The chicken chicks,” Nia injected.

  “We’re backing off the rats,” said Tyler.

  The tweeners were allowed champagne.

  “Growing veg.” Emily was proud. “Seedlings have turned to plants.”

  “All them out there are scared shitless of us,” said Chris. “We already took out six more of the supremacists.”

  “The ladies have gorgeous haircuts,” Stanton added.

  “Reuses are working,” Ben said. “Lots of arrows, too.”

  “The babies at the tribe are all healthy,” said Angela. “And the mother’s too.”

  “We’re doing good, people. Salud.” Peter raised his glass.

  The crystal flutes chinked together in the candlelight.

  “To continued prosperity and safety,” Ben said.

  “To God be the glory,” Jayce added.

  “Amen,” said Matt.

  They sipped. And smiled at each other.

  Chapter Seven

  1.

  Emily was late for breakfast. Smirks and chuckles when she arrived. They knew. Everyone heard her morning puke. She and Brandon seemed to be the only ones not getting what was happening. Denial. Even Tyler and Nia figured it out but were sworn to secrecy, which they had actually gotten somewhat good at lately.

  Breakfast was beans an
d rice. Phebe was forced to drink warm Ensure. Snickers when Matt put one in front of Emily.

  “I don’t need this.”

  “Drink it. Medic’s orders.” Matt resumed his seat at the table. His body language showed confidence in what he was doing.

  “I don’t feel like eating.”

  “Tough shit. Do it anyway.”

  “Why? For a stupid bug?”

  More snickers.

  “Shut up. Why do you people keep doing that?”

  Nia said, “Cos you're pregnant.”

  “Nie,” Mullen reprimanded. “We were going to let them figure it out.”

  “Sorry.” She shrugged with an oopsy smile. “It was too big.”

  Tyler nodded. “Can’t do that to us.”

  Brandon looked at Emily. “Are you?”

  “Of course not. They just have babies on the brain.” She waved a dismissive hand in Phebe’s direction, and then at midwife Angela.

  Angela smiled at Emily. Her eyes sparkled with happiness for the young woman. She definitely had babies on the brain lately.

  Stanton, who had not figured it out, shrieked in glee. “Another nursery.” He turned to Mullen. “We’ll need more houses looted for another nursery.”

  “Oh, God,” Mullen replied.

  “Well, people.” Matt stood. “Angela, the doc and I are needed at the other tribe camp. We’ll be back before sunset.”

  Dr. Jenkins squeezed Karen’s shoulder. She smiled up at her dad.

  “Be careful, Daddy.”

  “You too.” He pointed at Mullen. “You keep her safe, young man.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Smiles around the table.

  Angela hugged her kids and kissed on the cheek. “Be good, y’all.”

  “We always are,” said Nia.

  Tyler elbowed her in the ribs. Both giggled.

  Angela gave them a stern glare. “Be good, both of you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Tyler said.

  Angela cocked a brow at him.

  They waited until everyone was gone. Then exploded into laughter and mockery at Mullen and Karen. Mullen threw a napkin at Jayce. Tyler threw beans at Mullen.

  “Hey, no food fight, you criminals,” said Mazy.

  “What a bunch of reta’ds.” Peter smiled at Phebe and placed his arm over the back of her chair.

  “Food’s too valuable to throw,” Mazy chastised Tyler.

  He chewed and opened his mouth. “See food. Seafood.”