Buchanan stood there and said nothing until Bobby had finished. “You’re right, of course. But as president, I have to think and plan for a future beyond this crisis. There wouldn’t be much point in surviving today only to wake up in a totalitarian state tomorrow.”
“Then what’s the answer?”
Buchanan thought for a moment, then glanced across at Helmut. “Mr. Rodriguez, do you consider yourself a loyal American?”
“Of course!” Bobby said, even as he sensed the trap being set.
“Then I have a task for you. I will return to Hazleton. You’re right, that is where I am most needed. We cannot abandon the east—we’re going to need it if we’re to feed a growing nation. But given Colonel Sharipov’s intelligence, I also cannot abandon the west. The Chinese are involved in Booker’s government, one way or another, and Schultz has megalomaniacal ambitions. And then there is the even bigger picture: what caused the catastrophes that have crippled our country and the world?”
Buchanan reached out and took Bobby’s arm. “I will do what I can to stabilize the east, and I’ll take Lundberg and Rath with me. They, with the help of the best minds I can gather together, will be tasked with finding an answer. They made the mess; I expect them to clean it up.”
Bobby nodded, impressed by the sudden energy in the president. It was as if she had suddenly been unburdened and for the first time saw the path she needed to take clearly laid out before her. “And what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to find this group and contact their command structure. I want you to instruct them to prepare for a call to arms. And then I want you to set up a communications hub in Ragtown—a direct line to me. You will keep me informed of developments and I will instruct you as to my plans. And when we have all the information we need, we will act. But first, Mr. Rodriguez, we must know our enemy.”
Bobby stepped back and turned away, looking across the small room to where Helmut stood like a brooding shadow. “You don’t ask a lot, do you? I don’t know if I can achieve any of that.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself, Mr. Rodriguez.”
“Bobby. Please call me Bobby.”
She smiled, her face transforming in an instant. “Of course. Bobby. Will you do this for me? For your country?”
What could he say? By agreeing, he wouldn’t be returning straight to Ragtown, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He desperately wanted to know that Maria was safe and well—and Eve—but he knew he had no chance of enjoying his time with them. He was in the middle of all this and there was no retreating back into the blessed fog of ignorance. And the best thing he could do to make sure Maria was safe was to do his duty. Or, at least try to. But the thought of it made him feel exhausted. He wanted just to pause for a while and regain his strength. But they were trapped in a hotel with hostile forces—albeit American—and so this was, in fact, the breath between rounds. As soon as he agreed, the stream of time would turn into rapids again and he’d be swept away.
“On one condition.”
Buchanan raised an eyebrow. “Your loyalty has terms?”
“I want Yuri to come with me. I know it’s not fair to him after all he’s been through, but I can’t imagine attempting this without him.”
The president thought for a moment. “I had planned to include him in my intelligence team. But if that is your price, then I agree. Now, come, it is time to get out of here.”
They went back into the briefing room to see Yuri standing over Schultz and Lundberg, who had their hands tied behind their backs. Lexa Delmont had her ear against the door. Yuri smiled as he saw Bobby. “People outside are impatient, Mrs. President. Time to get in helicopter and disappear.”
Buchanan turned to Helmut. “Did you pass on our demands?”
“Ja, Madam President. Governor Schultz here was not happy, but I persuaded him. Gently.”
Heavy fists banged on the door, and Buchanan nodded to the German, who drew his handgun and opened it a crack.
Bobby couldn’t hear what was being said, but Jager turned to Buchanan and nodded. “All is ready.”
“You won’t get away with this,” Schultz spat as Bobby helped him to his feet.
The president ignored him, positioning herself immediately behind the governor as Helmut opened the door a little wider.
“You have Rath?” the German called. “And you have cleared the corridors?”
A voice called in acknowledgment.
“And you have the survivors?”
Again, a voice called out a yes.
Helmut turned to Buchanan as Lexa took hold of Schultz, leaving Lundberg to Bobby, who came up behind, with Yuri ahead of them.
“Stand back! Anyone shoots and Schultz dies.”
They walked out of the room and into a ruined corridor, walls riddled with bullet holes and blood, items of clothing and equipment discarded on the floor and in the side rooms.
A figure appeared around the corner, stumbling on shaking legs with hands tied in front of him.
Helmut nodded to him. “Rath. Fall in with us.” Without a word, the gaunt professor took his place beside his fellow German.
Two other figures were pushed around the corner. Both wore dark business suits, but one had no jacket and a white, bloodstained bandage around his arm. The face of the other was bruised and dried blood filled a gash in her lower lip. Each of them looked apologetically at Buchanan, but took their place behind Rath. To Bobby it felt like they were walking to their execution rather than escaping.
Helmut stopped at the fire escape door and gestured to Lexa to hold on to Schultz as the others went through. He waited until the last of them had passed through, his gun pointing along the empty corridor, then pushed Lexa and Schultz inside before pulling the door closed.
“Now, we must hurry,” he said, and began climbing the concrete staircase two steps at a time, looking behind impatiently as the others followed.
Schultz was the last to make it to the top, despite being regularly poked in the ribs with the end of Lexa Delmont’s pistol, but, finally, they were able to open the door, admitting a gale of freezing air.
Bobby could see the Black Hawk waiting on the roof but, as they emerged, other figures in military uniforms appeared from the top of the other exit and formed a line. Lexa pulled Schultz close, making her handgun obvious to the watchers as she pressed it against Schultz’s balding head as he struggled across the rooftop.
Helmut pulled the helicopter door across and climbed inside. Again, Lexa held on to Schultz’s arm as the others followed, the injured former prisoners and Rath climbing on board with Lundberg.
“Let the president go!” A man stepped out of the line with an assault rifle pointed at them.
With a rising whine, the rotors above them began turning.
“Are you serious?” Bobby said to Lexa as he waited just inside the helicopter. “If we let him go, they’ll blow us out of the sky.”
“I gave my word,” Buchanan said. “As did Governor Schultz.”
“You know he’s raising an army of his own?” Bobby shouted as the engine got louder. “You know he calls himself president? Are you really that naive?”
“I gave my word,” Buchanan repeated.
Bobby jumped down and took hold of Schultz’s arm. “Let’s get him inside,” he said.
“Let me go!” Schultz demanded, trying to free himself.
Lexa began turning her head to look at the president, but Bobby bellowed at her. “Come on! No time to argue!”
Instantly, she hauled on the big man, helping Bobby get him inside.
“Let the president go or we’ll open fire!” the squad leader called.
“If you don’t let me go, I swear to almighty God I will…” Schultz started, but Bobby pushed him to the floor and pulled the door closed.
“Helmut, get us out of here!”
The figures on the roof began running toward them, but the helicopter lifted up and into the bleak Denver skies.
“H
ow dare you!” Schultz bellowed. “We had a deal!”
Bobby took hold of the man by the collar and swung his fist, connecting with a sickening crunch.
“Rodriguez!” Buchanan struggled to balance in the tilting helicopter, but finally managed to sit beside where Bobby had Schultz on the floor.
Raising his fist again, Bobby tried to bring it down, but Lexa caught his wrist. “No.”
“You saw it, didn’t you?” Bobby said, looking into the ice maiden’s impassive eyes.
“Saw what?” Buchanan asked.
Delmont nodded. “Yeah, I saw it.” She looked through the window as the rooftop receded from view. “Rocket launcher.”
Buchanan grabbed Bobby’s arm. “What?”
“Yeah. I’m not a trained soldier, but I’ve been around them enough to have seen what launchers can do. They planned to shoot us down as soon as Schultz was free.”
The governor rubbed his cheek. “This is outrageous. I knew nothing about it. Y’all have to believe me!”
“I say open the door and throw out the trash,” Helmut called from the pilot’s seat.
“You concentrate on keeping us in the air!” Lexa responded as the helicopter banked again.
Bobby pulled Schultz to his feet and forced him to sit alongside Lundberg, who hadn’t said a word. She simply looked daggers at the governor as he shrank away from her. Having secured them, Bobby went into the cockpit to find Yuri sitting in the co-pilot’s seat.
“He will not let me fly,” the Russian said.
“I trained with the Luftwaffe,” Helmut responded. “I know how to fly this pile of junk.”
Yuri snorted. “So many computers. Almost flies itself.”
“Where are we heading?” Bobby asked.
“That is up to the president.”
Buchanan stood in the doorway, her hand around a grab bar. “Take us far enough west that Mr. Rodriguez and Colonel Sharipov can get a head start on any pursuit. We’ll drop Schultz off there, too. Then we go east. It’s time to begin putting this country back together again.”
Chapter 21
Windy City
They’d left the graveyard behind them and, as the road sloped gently downward again, the mud had risen, and they’d spent an exhausting hour slip-sliding for a couple of miles until they got beyond it and back onto firm snow again.
“Look!” Yen said, pointing through the windshield.
Ahead of them they saw the downtown Chicago skyline hugging the horizon from left to right.
“We’re climbing,” Max said, breaking a silence that had lasted for hours.
Buzz looked out of the side window and nodded. He’d been tracking it ever since they’d passed the graveyard: a gentle but consistent increase in elevation. The buildings on either side of the freeway had slowly disappeared beneath the snow and they were now above the level of the road bridges. As they continued to climb, rising out of the valley formed by the highway, they could look left and right and see an undulating landscape that, but for the occasional mast and tower block bursting through the surface, could have been a scene from the Antarctic. Ahead of them, however, the skyscrapers loomed.
“You were right,” Max said.
Buzz turned to the boy, who had finally shut the laptop lid. “I just hope we’re not too late.”
“What does he mean?” Yen asked.
“We need a pristine sample, one that’s completely uncontaminated.”
“I know what pristine means.”
Buzz blushed. “Sorry. Yes, of course. But judging by what was happening to the south, I hypothesized that…whatever is causing this ice formation would be having an even greater effect here.”
“He theorized that glaciers would form on Lake Michigan,” Max said.
“Yes. As my assistant says. These glaciers, if they’re high enough above the waterline, will be uncontaminated by the xenobot species that I…that we created.”
“But how can a glacier form so quickly?”
Buzz gazed out of the window. “It’s consistent with my measurements of the water level drop back at the island.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I wish I knew, Yen.”
Max settled back next to the still-snoring Pope. “And that’s only the first part of the puzzle. Once we’ve discovered what’s causing the ice formation, then we’ve got to work out what to do about it without making matters worse.”
Buzz didn’t answer, but he knew Max was right. So far, he was two for zero. Humanity was on its knees and he couldn’t bear the idea of being the one to deliver the coup de grâce to his species.
#
“Is this the closest we can get?” Buzz asked as Yen stopped the truck.
“Seriously? I can hear the ice moving. I’m not getting any closer.”
Buzz pulled his coat tight around his face as he opened the door, but still the wind took his breath away. “We don’t all have to go,” he said turning around to look at Max and Pope. “You could wait here.”
“No way,” Pope said. “Yen’s right. I can feel it.”
“So, you want to be inside a skyscraper instead?”
Pope shrugged. “It’s either that or head back the way we came with our tails between our legs.”
They climbed out, stepping into pristine snow. Buzz looked around. Behind and around them, the top floors of tower blocks poked out from beneath the ice. In front of the truck, a skyscraper reared up for hundreds of feet, pointing into a gray sky.
But it was what he saw on the other side of the building that took his breath away. A mountain of ice like a frozen tidal wave inched inland. Embedded in its leading edge and where it met the top of the snow level they were on was a detritus of twisted metal and concrete that groaned and cracked as it was tortured by the inexorable movement of the ice.
“Can’t you take your sample from there?” Pope said, gesturing at the approaching wall.
“No, it has to be pristine,” Buzz responded, wishing he could be sure he was right. But he needed to sample the ice itself, not the snow around them.
Yen pulled a small ax out of the back of the pickup and walked up to the nearest window before swinging at it. It took three blows before it smashed, emitting a blast of pungent air to be blown away on the wind.
“I think this is the Willis Tower,” Buzz said. “Hard to tell when it’s half buried, but we’ve got a long climb. At least we’ll be inside.”
Within moments of climbing through the broken windowpane he was wishing he could be back in the fresh air. They’d emerged in what looked like a restaurant, but the inside was coated in a frozen slime that was both treacherously slippery and released a stench as they walked on it.
“I wonder if anyone was in here when the wave came in?” Yen said, speaking through the scarf she’d pulled over her mouth and nose.
“Bound to have been.”
Ted groaned. “I’ve been here before. The Metropolitan Club. Good grief. What a mess. I guess they ran up the fire emergency stairs when they realized.”
“And then what?” Max asked. “Even if they got out of reach of the water, where could they go then?”
Dread settled on Buzz’s heart. Where would they have gone? Nowhere. They’d have climbed the stairs and then starved to death. No help would have come. What would Buzz and the others find as they went up through the floors?
“We have to stick to the stairs until we get to the top,” Pope said. “None of us wants to see what happened here.”
Yen found the fire escape on the other side of the restaurant and pushed the door open. A different stench filled Buzz’s nose as he followed her, switching on his flashlight as he went. The unmistakable stink of death.
Max retched, vomiting up his breakfast and bursting into tears before they’d reached the top of the first flight.
Grabbing him around the shoulders, Yen whispered in his ears, somehow calming him, but the boy continued sobbing as they climbed.
“How many floors
is it?” Buzz asked when they’d rounded another corner and his knees began to protest.
Pope was just behind him, bringing up the rear. “The club was over halfway up, but I reckon we’ve got forty stories to climb. There’s an observation deck a couple of floors from the top, but I guess you’ll want to go out onto the roof.”
“We’ll have to. Unless the observation deck has windows we can open.”
After a while, the stench either declined in intensity or they got used to it, but the climb didn’t become any easier. Buzz’s legs were aching after five flights, and by the twentieth he was forced to rest.
“Okay, we’ll take a break,” Pope said, swinging his pack off his shoulder and dropping it on the landing with a groan.
Buzz used his flashlight to find an MRE pack and offered one to Max, who shook his head. Rubbing it, Buzz waited for it to heat up, wrapping his hands around the bottom.
“What was that?” Max said. He’d sat a few steps down so he didn’t have to smell the food.
“Relax,” Buzz said. “You’re just spooked.”
“I heard something. Listen.”
So they sat in silence, ears straining but hearing nothing. Buzz was about to begin stirring his chicken stew when he heard the unmistakable murmur of voices.
Pope was instantly on his feet and shining his flashlight down the dozens of flights of steps.
Looking down, Buzz strained to see anything. The sound was on the edge of hearing. Could it be the building moving? Or the glacier?
Then he saw them. Caught by the light. Faces looking up. Dozens, maybe hundreds of faces. Hungry faces. The faces of the mad.
A cry went up and the sound of voices was joined by a thump-thump of feet now running without concern. Chasing them.
And they were trapped.
“Come on!” Pope said, reaching down and pulling on Max’s arm.
Buzz jumped up, throwing his ration pack away, all thoughts of eating gone, and began running up the stairs. Running for his life.
But however scared he was, he couldn’t make his legs move as fast as he wanted and he had a creeping sense of the pursuers getting steadily, remorselessly closer.
Lost: Deluge Book 5: (A Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Story) Page 19