THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5

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THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5 Page 47

by Steven Konkoly


  Alex saw that her left foot had emerged from the mud without the shoe.

  “These things are useless at this point,” she said, leaning against him to use both hands to retie the shoe.

  “They’re protecting our feet from a puncture or cut. That’s about it. We’re almost there. Twenty minutes,” he said.

  “More like thirty at this rate,” she said, finishing with her shoe.

  He kissed the back of her moist neck, tasting her salty sweat. “You’re doing an amazing job. If it weren’t for you, the kids would be sitting in the mud on the side of the road a mile back,” he whispered.

  She turned and kissed him briefly on the lips. “Thanks. That’s all I needed to hear to keep me going,” she said, flashing the first genuine smile he’d seen from her all morning.

  “All right then, let’s bring this crazy train home. Kids, I want you guys up here,” said Alex, motioning with his hands for them to fill the gap between him and Kate.

  “Why?” said Emily.

  “So I can watch over you. Come on. Let’s go.”

  “It’s just our neighborhood,” she said, with a hint of teen condescension.

  Alex faked a smile and mumbled under his breath, “Yeah. That’s what I’m worried about.”

  PART II

  “DURHAM ROAD”

  Chapter 8

  EVENT +08:37 Hours

  Scarborough, Maine

  Alex held the rucksack over his head with both hands and pushed through the chest-high mess that filled the water runoff ditch. A similar ditch ran on the other side of the neighborhood, emptying into the same retention pond. He could only assume that the retention pond had been instantaneously filled by the initial tsunami wave, rendering the entire runoff system useless. He climbed out of the soupy mud, trailing thick strands of seaweed. Neither Kate nor the kids looked eager to step down into the light brown slush. He dropped his pack in the mud at his feet and slid down to the edge of the water.

  “There has to be a better way to do this,” Kate said.

  “You can walk around to the front of the neighborhood and say hi to everyone on the way in,” said Alex.

  She shook her head and swung her backpack around, hesitating to take the plunge.

  “Don’t worry,” Alex said, smiling, “the water’s warm.”

  “Very funny,” Kate said, then mumbled, “I’ve heard that before.”

  She stepped down into the water, quickly sinking to her waist, then the top of her neck. She teetered trying to keep the rucksack in the air, nearly toppling into the water. Alex really hoped that didn’t happen. Normally, he might find the idea of Kate falling unexpectedly into water utterly hilarious, and if the circumstances were right, he’d consider facilitating the situation. This wasn’t one of those times. She didn’t look the least bit amused.

  “Are you going to stand there and watch me sink in to my eyebrows, or maybe help me with this pack?”

  “I hadn’t decided yet.” Alex smirked. After a short pause, he waded into the water and grabbed her pack.

  “That’s yours now, by the way,” she said, scrambling up the side of the ditch.

  He broke into laughter. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you back in the water.”

  “You can try.”

  “I’ll ferry the rest of the packs across,” Alex offered. “I didn’t realize the water would come up so high on you—though I was really hoping there for a second.”

  Alex heaved the last pack up to Kate and helped Emily out of the water, pulling her with both hands. He was surprised by the difficulty the group experienced crossing the small ditch. The five-mile hike in the blistering sun had pretty much sapped all of their energy, turning the simple act of crossing a waist-deep ditch into a chore. He felt a pair of hands on his back.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” he said, without turning around.

  “Maybe another day. The water felt good, though,” Kate said, pulling him by his left hand.

  “It did feel good, even though my pants are filled with mud.”

  A minute later, they stepped onto the muck-swept street. The storm drain in front of the Murrays’ old house gushed dirty water onto the street, creating a shallow swamp that covered the street in front of several houses and crept up the driveways. Between the houses, the entire neighborhood resembled a mudflat, littered with downed trees, seaweed, and persistently scattered debris—complete with a small lake forming.

  He didn’t see anyone standing outside, which struck him as odd. For some reason, he’d expected more activity, but the neighborhood was quiet except for the excited chatter of birds. He kept forgetting that the wave had hit them over six hours ago. By now, most of them would be exhausted from a combination of fear, stress, heat and humidity. He hoped they stayed inside for the rest of the day. By tomorrow, he would be long gone.

  Alex looked up the northern side of the Durham Road loop toward the top of the development. Water pumped less forcefully from the other storm drains he could observe, creating rivulets through the mud that fed the street pond. He stared in awe at the new landscape. Aside from the obvious orientation of the houses, there was nothing to indicate he was standing on a road. Something shifted in the pond, catching their attention. He knew what it was before anyone spoke.

  “Is that…a body?” asked Kate.

  “I think so. Let’s keep everyone moving. Don’t stop for—”

  “Alex! Alex! Thank God almighty you’re here!” yelled Charlie Thornton from his front porch a few houses away.

  Dressed in Vietnam-era, tiger-striped camouflage, clutching an over accessorized AR-15-style rifle, Charlie sprinted down the granite stairs leading off his farmer’s porch. He grazed the light post to the left of his red-brick walkway with his left shoulder, nearly tumbling into the mud, and stomped through the slush across two lawns. He screamed their names, along with something about Chinese paratroopers. So much for a stealthy entry.

  “I need this like a hole in the head right now,” mumbled Alex. “Take the kids home, and start filling containers with tap water. Bathtubs, glasses, coolers, anything that’ll hold water. I’ll be right there.”

  “You’re alive! You made it! We’ve got a fucking invasion on our hands. I’ll get you a rifle—hold on. Bring everyone up to the house. We’re totally screwed, Alex. This is what we’ve been preparing for! Christ, what the hell happened to you? Looks like you stepped on a landmine. Hi, Kate,” said Charlie in a rapid-fire, adrenaline-induced stream of words.

  “Hey, Charlie,” she responded and immediately turned to Alex. “I’ll see you at the house, honey.”

  “Wait! Let me get you some weapons,” said Charlie.

  “I think they can make it to our house without an armed escort. I’ll be right there, honey. Is the safety engaged on your rifle, Charlie?”

  “Why does everyone always ask me about the safety?” Charlie asked, furtively thumbing the safety switch.

  Alex put a hand on Charlie’s right shoulder. “Because I could see from thirty feet away that it wasn’t on, and you just bounced off a light post with your finger on the trigger. Good to see you, by the way. Is everyone all right in your house?”

  “Uh, yeah, everyone is fine. The wave scared the shit out of the girls, but it didn’t tear through my house like the rest,” said Charlie.

  “Anyone we know?” said Alex, motioning to the body stuck in the street pond.

  “I don’t think so. Nobody in the neighborhood is missing. That one must have been completely buried in the mud until the water dislodged it. It’s not the first. We cleared a few out of the drainage ditches, and I hear that the Carters found one against the back of their house.”

  “We saw bodies in the harbor, but none on the road. How is your basement?” Alex asked, knowing the answer.

  “Completely flooded,” Charlie replied. “Came in through the shattered cellar windows in back. I hauled a lot of stuff up when I saw that glow in the sky to the west and our cars wouldn’t start. Mostly weapons and
our bug-out bags. We’ve been hit by an EMP. That’s why I’m running around with my rifle. Chinese jeeps could come tearing through the neighborhood at any second.”

  “I highly doubt we’re facing a Chinese invasion. We’ve definitely been hit by something, but I don’t expect paratroopers to appear in the skies above Scarborough any time soon,” said Alex, starting to walk on the sidewalk toward his house.

  “That’s the problem, Alex. Nobody knows what’s happening. The radio is dead silent. No emergency broadcast. Nothing. We have to assume this is a full-scale invasion until proven otherwise. Where’s your pistol?”

  “Taken by the Coast Guard. There’s really nothing being transmitted?”

  Charlie shook his head. “Nothing at all. Hey! What do you mean taken by the Coast Guard?”

  “Things are changing rapidly. Give me about an hour to assess the situation at my house; then we’ll meet up to figure out a game plan.”

  “You’re going to Boston to get your son, right?”

  “Yeah. I may leave tonight if it’s feasible. I’ll grab Ed’s kid too,” said Alex.

  “You make sure to count me in on that one. I’m serious,” said Charlie, grabbing his arm and stopping him.

  “I can’t ask you to follow me down there, Charlie.”

  “You don’t have to ask.”

  “I really appreciate that. I’ll keep you in the loop. Promise,” said Alex.

  “I’ll keep myself in the loop, if you don’t mind. The thought of you and Ed cruising down to Boston on a search-and-rescue mission makes me cringe. Ed’s about as tactical as a circus clown.”

  Alex couldn’t help laughing at the image. Charlie had an indomitable sense of humor that was infectious—to a point.

  “What are we looking at with the rest of the neighborhood?”

  “Everything seems calm for now,” said Charlie. “I went around with a few others to make sure everyone filled up on water. The basement flooding kind of fucked up a lot of people’s emergency stockpiles. They’ll be fine once the water drains—if it drains. Wait until you see the retention pond—I mean lake.”

  “Looks like I’m in for some snorkeling. I have some shit I need down there, and I don’t have that kind of time. Give me an hour, man,” said Alex.

  “You got it, buddy. Hey, I might need to borrow one of your snorkeling masks. I didn’t get all of my toys out of the basement. Forgot the thermal scope.”

  “Thermal scope? You’re crazy. You know that, right?”

  “Doesn’t sound so crazy now, does it?” said Charlie.

  “Unfortunately, it doesn’t. By the way, I think you’re about five decades behind with your camouflage choice. I haven’t seen anyone wear tiger-stripe cammies since—”

  “John Wayne. Green Berets. The guy was a legend. I watched that movie with my dad when I was nine years old. We watched it every year since. This was the first and only pair of camouflage I’ve ever used hunting. Well, I’ve made some modifications over the years, and replaced the trousers due to sizing issues, but you get the picture.”

  “John Wayne.” Alex laughed. “He also played Davy Crocket in The Alamo, which means you should be wearing that squirrel cover of yours too.”

  “He wore a coonskin cap, and his had the raccoon face in front. I have a collector’s edition in my office, but it’s in a glass case. You’re talking about this one,” said Charlie, pulling his famed coonskin cap out of his right cargo pocket.

  “Damn, that thing’s ugly. Looks like it’s seen better years,” said Alex, exaggerating a look of dismay.

  “Never missed a shot wearing this baby. You know that better than anyone,” he said, proudly donning the cap and creating the most ridiculous-looking outfit Alex had ever seen.

  “That I do. See you in a few.”

  Alex saluted Charlie and picked up Kate’s backpack, turning toward the southern side of the Durham Road loop. Kate and the kids had already disappeared behind the Bradys’ house, which made him slightly nervous. He wasn’t sure why, but Charlie had made a solid point. Without any information, they truly had no idea what they were up against. While Charlie’s theories about a Chinese invasion force were too farfetched for Alex’s vivid imagination, nobody could deny that they were on the receiving end of a massive, wide-scale “event.” Man made or natural, he didn’t think it mattered. The result would be the same.

  Chaos.

  Chapter 9

  EVENT +08:45 Hours

  Scarborough, Maine

  The mud wasn’t as deep immediately in front of Alex’s house, most likely because the house had deflected the initial surge and created a buffer. He stepped between two pine bushes that defiantly protruded from the muck and landed on what he knew logically was the slate walkway connecting the front door to the driveway. He could hear activity in the house, and hoped that Kate would open one of the doors for him. He didn’t feel like dragging her pack through the backyard.

  The act of finally arriving at their destination had suddenly deprived him of energy, as if his mind had involuntarily dampened his sympathetic nervous system, reducing production of the hormones responsible for his fight-or-flight response to the day’s event. It didn’t surprise him, considering that he’d been engaged in this mode since five in the morning. There would be no break in his immediate future. Right now, he needed to make an assessment of their situation, starting with their Chevy Tahoe.

  He saw Kate’s face appear in the mudroom door window and headed for the granite stoop. He had a bad feeling that the word “mudroom” was about to take on a whole new meaning. She cracked the door a few inches, allowing a thick stream of water to pour through the opening onto their porch before pulling it the rest of the way. He glanced at the bottoms of the double garage doors and saw a thin stream of water leaking from the far left bay. Shit. His garage had filled too. So much for their bug-out vehicle.

  Kate appeared with a tired look. “I’m estimating that to be about a foot and a half. The family room’s the same. The rest of the floors are covered in about six inches of this wonderful shit slime. Be careful once you’re inside. It all looks the same depth.”

  “Have you checked the basement?”

  “I came right here to let you in. We had to climb over what’s left of the deck,” said Kate.

  Alex handed over her backpack, and she hung it on one of the empty coat hooks while his eyes adjusted to the shadowy interior of their house. The first thing he noticed was the high-water stain on the drywall, less than an inch from the ceiling. That couldn’t be right. He scanned the entire mudroom and saw the same line just below the ceiling. He nearly tripped over one of their kitchen island stools examining the roof. He heard the water pipes running in the house and looked through the doorway to the kitchen.

  “The kids are filling up the bathtubs,” she responded.

  “Good. At least the water still works—what are the chances that the Tahoe still runs?”

  “Give it a shot,” Kate said. “If it works, we’ll have half a chance to get Ryan.”

  “I’ll get him back no matter what,” Alex said, stepping over to the door.

  “I know. I know. I just…looking around here, I’m not hopeful about his chances if this thing hit closer to Boston.”

  Alex stepped away from the garage door and held her tight, nestling his head next to her ear and kissing her neck.

  “He’ll be fine. I’ll start walking tonight if I have to. This is nothing. A minor bump in the road. In three days, we’ll be eating at a picnic table with my parents in Limerick,” he whispered.

  “Not if you’re walking,” said Kate.

  “Ten days. Let’s check the Tahoe and see what we’re dealing with.”

  Alex opened the door to the garage and was greeted by a foot of mud, which reached the bottom of the truck’s doors. Silt and small debris covered the black Tahoe from top to bottom. The deluge of water, which at one point had risen above the Tahoe, had upended the garage. A red plastic gas can sat on the SUV’s ro
of, while the rest of the garage’s tools and sporting goods equipment was nowhere to be seen, presumably under the water. He pressed the key fob to unlock the SUV and was rewarded by the familiar chirping sound. He pressed it again and heard the door mechanisms activate.

  “Good news, honey,” he said, hopeful for the first time since waking up this morning.

  He jumped into the mud and splashed across the empty bay to reach the SUV, tripping on something submerged below the surface. Quickly regaining his balance, he yanked the door open, which released a small quantity of foamy water into the muck below.

  “That’s not a good sign,” she said.

  He pocketed the key fob and hopped into the truck, pressing the keyless ignition button. The batteries turned the engine over, and for a few glorious moments, he thought the Tahoe might start. He should have known better. The 2018 Tahoe hybrid was one of the most technologically advanced heavy SUVs on the market. The commercials likened it to a fly-by-wire aircraft, where every aspect of its performance was monitored and controlled by multiple onboard computers. It was one of the safest, most fuel-efficient vehicles of its kind thanks to cutting-edge technology. Now this revolutionary beast was simply in the way of the bicycles hanging on the far side of the garage. He looked at Kate and smiled.

  “I always wanted to mountain bike all the way to Boston on the Eastern Trail.”

  Kate stifled a laugh, shaking her head. “I’m just trying to picture Charlie on a hundred-mile bike ride.” She chuckled.

  Alex hopped into the water and walked to the garage door in the empty bay.

  “I remember him doing that trek across Maine thing a few years ago,” said Alex, pulling on the red garage door manual release toggle above his head.

  “Uh—I’m pretty sure he rode an ambulance most of the way back,” said Kate.

  Alex pulled the door upward, releasing a flood of sludge down the driveway. He lifted the door all the way and was startled to see Ed standing a few feet away, holding two coffee mugs.

 

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