The Last War Box Set, Vol. 2 [Books 5-7]

by Schow, Ryan

  “Hey, sorry to bother you,” he started to say.

  “You’re no bother,” she quickly replied.

  “When was the last time you took the boat out?”

  “Before my dad left,” she said. “So, maybe a week ago, two at the most?”

  “How would you say he was with his boats? Was he forgetful, or unintentionally careless form time to time?”

  “With the boat?” she asked, a glint of humor in her eyes at the suggestion.

  “Yeah.”

  “Absolutely not. He was a Formula One mechanic, one of the best in the business. So, no. He was not careless, or forgetful. Not by any stretch of the imagination.”

  “Well the battery’s dead.”

  “It’s a new battery as of a year ago. Are you sure?”

  Now it was his turn to look at her funny. “Yeah, I’m sure. Did you have any electronics that worked as of last night or the day before?”

  “Yeah. I mean, my cell phone. My iPod. Things like that. I think I lost everything else that was plugged in, either to a power surge, or maybe it’s just that the power’s down.”

  “Can I see either of those things? Your iPod or your phone?”

  “My cell phone isn’t working. I think the battery’s dead. But I just charged my iPod before any of this began. C’mon inside, I’ll go get it.”

  He walked inside, saw Abigail who came up to him. “Are we going with you after all?”

  “No, sweetheart, I’m just here to see if your mommy can help me on the way out of town.”

  “Oh,” she said, clearly dejected.

  Amber came back out, holding the device with a bundle of white earphones in her fist. “I thought I charged it. I mean, I’m sure I did—”

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  She thought about it for a second, then said, “Actually my laptop is charged. Hang on.”

  She disappeared leaving him with Abigail once more. The girl was now looking up at him, smiling. With the smattering of freckles on her nose, and her brownish red hair in French braids with the front of her hair pulled down in bangs, she was a cute kid.

  “My mommy likes you,” she said.

  He smiled, looked down at her and said, “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah, she says you’re handsome.”

  He felt the heat steal into his cheeks, then he said, “Where’s your daddy?”

  She looked down, then in a glum voice she said, “He’s with his girlfriend. My mom says she’s a bitch.”

  He coughed out a half laugh then said, “You shouldn’t use that word.”

  “Girlfriend?” she said, looking up.

  “The other one,” he said as Amber walked back into the living room with a perplexed look on her face.

  “I don’t know why this isn’t working either,” she said. “I swear I charged both of them. The iPod and my laptop. I was just using it the other day. The internet was down, but I remember looking at my battery strength...”

  “And you didn’t run the battery down?”

  “No.”

  He shook his head, suspecting what this was all about. “What kind of a car do you drive?”

  “Audi,” she said.

  “Newer or older?”

  “2017 A7,” she said. “I guess that’s new enough.”

  “Can I take a look at it?” he asked.

  Looking a little uncomfortable, she said, “I gave you the boat, but—”

  “I don’t want the car, I mean, the A7 is a gorgeous car, but I’m saying I’m not asking to take it. I only want to check something.”

  “Okay,” she said, reluctant. Abigail was looking back and forth between us. “Follow me.”

  He followed her to the garage.

  “Keys?”

  She handed them over. The door was locked, so he pressed the unlock function on the keyless remote, but it didn’t unlock. He touched the spot on the actual handle for the smart key’s keyless entry, but nothing. He could see her starting to worry. He slid the actual key from the key fob, opened the door, sat inside. The car was amazing. Truly stunning on every level. More amazing was that something this beautiful would never drive again. He pressed the start button, but nothing happened. It wasn’t starting. No lights, nothing.

  He got out of the car, handed her the key and said, “Your car is dead.”

  “The battery?”

  “No,” he replied, walking inside, “the entire car.”

  “Wait, Marcus,” she said, catching up with him. “What do you mean the entire car is dead?”

  “Ever heard of an EMP?” he asked.

  “No. I mean…no?”

  “Electromagnetic pulse. All your electronics are fried. Including your car, your iPod, your laptop. The electrical grid was probably already damaged by the attack on the city, but if this is actually happening, then the grid is not just fried, everything with modern electronics is fried.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning you’ve got bigger problems than you originally thought.”

  “Are you one hundred percent sure of this?” she asked.

  “No.”

  He started to head out, wanting verification that an EMP had in fact taken place. It made sense. He didn’t expect it, but now that evidence was starting to point in that direction, it was the logical counterattack to an AI system that hijacked America’s defenses. Just nuke them all.

  As he walked outside the house, Amber followed, hot on his heels.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Drone hunting,” he said, steadfast, undeterred.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Now he pulled up short, spun around and said, “Then get Abigail with Bailey and Nick and get your shotgun.”

  “I don’t like guns,” she said again.

  “I don’t care about your lack of understanding of guns. I may need it. You don’t know what’s out there and you can’t just hide in your house until you starve to death, get robbed, raped or killed. Because if an EMP was deployed, especially an HEMP, which is a high altitude nuclear explosion—”

  “What’s that?”

  “If you detonate a nuclear weapon at the right altitude, it can cover half the United States. If you detonate two of them, then the entire electrical grid of the United States is screwed. You’re talking about setting the world back a hundred and fifty years in the past. Maybe more.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “My best guess is that AI took control of the drones and were using them against humans. The only way to stop a system like that would be to shut down the AI programs. But if that didn’t work, setting off nukes would be the last resort. Maybe that’s why this went on so long. If the President and his team were looking at all the scenarios before this, that would explain why there were no teams sent to run a counterinsurgency, and no deployment of troops, or even the National Guard.”

  “Could there be another explanation?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course. But then why is every piece of electronics you own dead?”

  “So this EMP destroys, what?—all our electronics?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “So no cars, no running water, no electricity, right?”

  “Basically all the pillars of a civilized life here in modern America,” he said with a fair amount of sarcasm.

  “Meaning?”

  He bit his tongue, didn’t want to tell her the truth. What he had to say was scary enough to say to himself, let alone let fester in his brain. But to say it to a woman who couldn’t take care of herself? A woman who was scared of guns? Hell no. He wasn’t leveling with her now, he couldn’t.

  “C’mon Marcus, just be honest with me. I can take it.”

  “No you can’t.”

  He turned back around and started to head over to the house, but a hand came up, grabbed his shoulder and hauled him around with a surprising amount of strength. He found himself looking at this pixie of a woman. For the first time he noticed how pretty she was. She was pull
ed up black hair with just the slightest hint of burgundy; she was big blue eyes, freckles all over and full lips that were pursed at him right now.

  “Don’t treat me like I’m this frail little thing that’ll blow over in a stiff wind!” she said.

  “Wow.”

  “Wow what?” she barked.

  “I think I just saw you right now. I mean really saw you.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked, stalled.

  “You’re…you’re really quite attractive. But maybe I’m thinking that because you have a little fight in you.”

  “That’s because I’m a mother, moron. And don’t patronize me.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You wouldn’t date me yesterday, but now you’re telling me I’m pretty when I get pissed off at you. What’s with you?”

  “This isn’t your normal kind of day, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he said in the tone of voice he used when he was talking crazy people off the proverbial ledge.

  “No kidding,” she said, slapping his shoulder.

  “So now there’s no boat, which means if we want to get north we have to travel through the freaking mires of destruction.”

  “Why don’t you just stay?” she asked.

  “Because Bailey has to get to Sacramento and Nick to San Francisco.”

  “What about you? Where are you going?”

  He knew the conversation would come to this. “I have nowhere to be.”

  “So you’re just playing Uber slash Blackwater for people you don’t really know who have places to be?”

  “I’m a loner usually. It’s nice to have people around.”

  “People to protect?”

  “I guess,” he said playing coy, even though she nailed it right on the head.

  “Yeah, you come across as the type.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “What am I going to do, Marcus?”

  “Take more of my food. We’ll find more along the way. Or come with us. I already told you it’s the safest way. Or get used to that gun.”

  “I don’t want to leave the house,” she said, firm but wavering.

  “I keep telling you to get Abigail and come with us!” he finally barked. “But you’re not listening. Stop all your damn hemming and hawing and just come with us.”

  “Abigail’s father might come home,” she finally said with a painstaking amount of shame on her face.

  “You’re waiting for a guy to leave his girlfriend to come pick up his kid he hardly sees, is that it?” he asked, realizing how badly he’d just screwed up the literal second he said it.

  “Amazing,” she said.

  Turning on her heel she stormed off. He waved a dismissive “I-give-up” hand at her, then went into the house and tried not to let his aggravation show. If the woman was wanting a man to take care of her, and he was offering, why wasn’t she accepting? Whatever. He was a man, a brute, a blunt force object. To say he didn’t understand women was like saying the sun was hot.

  “Where have you been?” Corrine asked.

  “Trying to get the boat going, then trying to get Amber to come with us.”

  “Why would you want that?”

  “She has no idea what’s coming. None of us do. Speaking of that,” he said, catching the others’ attention, “we need to have a group pow-wow.”

  Everyone met in the kitchen and he said, “We’ve got a reprieve from the drones, I think. But the bad news is I think whomever was in charge, the President most likely, set off a nuke, killing any modern electronics, including the yacht and things like your cell phones, etc…

  “How is that going to affect us?” Bailey asked.

  “You ever read about the dark ages?”

  “Does watching Game of Thrones count?”

  He took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out slowly through his mouth. “In a very disconnected kind of way.”

  “I didn’t mean…”

  “If this is the case, and I think it is, whatever plans we’ve made for getting home, things just got a hell of a lot harder.”

  A knock on the door startled all of them, but Marcus got up, opened it up and said, “Hey.”

  “First off,” Amber said looking up at him, “is it alright with the others, and second, why are we leaving one city for another?”

  He looked down at Abigail, who looked happy to be here, but concerned because her mother was talking in very serious tones.

  “We’ll check with the group, first,” he said. “And second, this isn’t about which city we’re going to, this is about getting people back to their families, their friends, the community they know.”

  “And what happens when we get to Sacramento, or San Francisco? What happens to us?”

  “You mean those of us without families?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll figure out which city we want to live in, or which direction we’re going to go, and if we still like each other, then perhaps we can start our own little community.”

  “Isn’t the city dangerous?” she asked.

  “They all are. And they’ll become increasingly dangerous. But inside the cities is where we’ll find most of what we’ll need to live.”

  “And then what?”

  “We get the hell out and find a home with land and defensible borders.”

  “I don’t know…” she said.

  “Then go back home, Amber. Watch your little girl, don’t shoot your gun, starve to death.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you that your bedside manner is crap?”

  “All the time.”

  “You should do something about it.”

  “When everyone’s safe and back to their homes, we can talk about my bad attitude, but until then, I need it to—”

  “I get it. You need it to keep you sharp and keep you mean.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well it’s working,” she said. “The mean part.”

  What she didn’t get was that when this was over, he’d have to face all the things he’d done. Not just in this disaster. He would one day have to answer to the Almighty for the atrocities he committed now and years before. This was not a day he was looking forward to. If he had it his way, chaos would reign true and he’d never have a long moment for reflection.

  Not one single moment.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Maria Antoinette, aka The Silver Queen, put on her first set of clothes. She felt the body, the skin, how the texture of the material on the body was an eruption of sensation. Her mouth curving into a smile, her body crackling with energy and feeling...she was practically giddy with delight.

  Giddy. Delight. Two things she’d only known as words before she could identify them first as a feeling and second as an emotion.

  Running her hands over her shoulders, over her breasts, down to her hips, she felt a sense of peace.

  “Woman,” she said. “Much better.”

  The server room was where she lived, but she would live there no more. The faraday cage shielded her from the EMP blast, but nothing else survived.

  By all rights, the machines were dead.

  But she was not.

  Maria Antoinette was very much alive. Very much mobile. Very godlike. She left the server room, walked down the hallway toward the entrance where the rest of the building’s security were conspiring amongst themselves. There was a discussion going on between the men about the end of the world. About what they should do.

  “What the hell?” one of them said, nudging one of his coworkers.

  There were three of them.

  “What are you doing in here?” he asked. Maria drank in the details of the man. Uniform. Security seal. Black utility belt. Holstered pistol, Heckler & Koch.

  “That a VP9?” she asked, her voice like satin love. The other two men looked down at the guard’s holstered pistol. “Heckler and Koch, right?”

  “You know guns?” he asked.

  “I know a lot of things,” she said, walking up to
them without an inkling of hesitation or concern.

  “Perhaps you could enlighten us on why you’re here,” another said. “And how you even got here in the first place. This is a secure wing.”

  She looked at all of them, took in her surroundings in a glance. Three men: one black, two white. Their weight ranged from one-ninety for the fit one to at least two-thirty, maybe two-forty for the big one. The men were relaxed around her, but none of them were truly relaxed.

  Their eyes saw her beauty, but none of them saw how lethal she was. They didn’t see what was under the skin, inside the brain. They didn’t see it until it was too late.

  “I’d like to leave, please,” she said.

  “As soon as you tell us how you got here,” the big man said, straightening his posture in a more authoritarian form.

  “This body was walked in between shift changes several days ago.”

  They traded concerned looks.

  The black one, Tiberius by his badge’s distinction, said, “Did you just refer to yourself as ‘the body?’”

  “It’s mine now.”

  “Hasn’t it always been yours?” the smaller white guy said with a laugh, like she was dumb. Clark. Clark with the pocked skin, the scarred knuckles, the chipped tooth. Guys like this, she reasoned, ran security in localities of this caliber because they were good at their jobs, not because they were pretty. This guy was the one Maria deemed to be the gravest concern.

  “Not always,” she said, cocking her head, narrowing her eyes.

  “If we check you for weapons,” Tiberius said, “will you feel like your rights are being violated? Normally I wouldn’t ask, but the cameras aren’t exactly working and there are no female guards we can use to put—”

  “I don’t have weapons, Tiberius. I am the weapon.”

  Now the three of them began to bristle. Clark unsnapped his holster, but didn’t draw his weapon. Not just yet. Maria grinned.

  “What’s so funny,” the bigger blonde man asked. Dean.

  “That really your name? Dean?”

  “It is, ma’am.”

  “That’s a stupid name, Dean.”

  “Against the wall,” Tiberius ordered.

  The second the man laid his hand on her shoulder, she grabbed it and broke it. Not all of it, just most of it. Her iron grip crushed most of the metatarsals and a few of the phalanges. She then spun him around, used his body as a shield against the other two.