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Betrayed: Book 5 in the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival series: (The Long Night - Book 5)

Page 12

by Kevin Partner


  Bella let her handgun fall to the floor with the others, looking across at Skulls who looked confused and furious.

  Moretti stepped forward. He walked up to the woman and, to Bella's horror, took the megaphone from her.

  "Traitor!" Bella spat.

  Ignoring her, he brought the mic to his lips. "By the authority of the mayor, I am placing you all under arrest."

  "Mayor? And who, exactly, is that?" Bella called.

  Now he turned to her. "The true mayor of Elizabeth. Kaitlyn Kennedy."

  Chapter 14

  It was dark by the time Solly and Vivian made their way back to the Humvee and Ross was close to a meltdown until Solly told him to drive out of town.

  "Are you sure? I haven't driven it before."

  "Time you did, then," Solly said. "We're exhausted. Let's get out of here."

  Ross didn't need any more persuading. He turned on the engine and looked down at the transmission before sliding it into drive. He'd recovered enough strength and mobility in his right leg to be able to handle the gas and brake pedals, but his left leg was as useless as ever.

  "Don't forget the handbrake," Solly said as they went nowhere fast.

  With a lurch, the Humvee moved forward and Solly directed Ross towards I- 65 and their southward road.

  "Why were you so long?" Ross said as he began to relax. "I thought you'd be back hours ago."

  "We found somet'in up there," Vivian said from the back seat. "And Solly wanted to take a closer look."

  "It was a Lee Corporation transmitter. They've had the same idea as us—boosting short-range communication by siting them in high places."

  "Did you smash it up?"

  Solly pulled the pack onto his knees and extracted a dog-eared notebook and his smartphone. "If I'd done that, they'd have known we were up there. We moved our transmitter so it's better hidden and I took a look at theirs."

  He activated the smartphone and scrolled through the photos. "Good, they've come out okay. It was getting dark and I couldn't use the flash."

  Then he turned to his notebook and examined the diagram he'd scrawled there. "I hope this is going to be useful. I didn't know what to write down, so I copied everything—processor names, all the parts I could recognize, printed legends."

  "Why? What can you do with it?"

  "That's a good question, Ross," Viv said, before yawning and leaning back in her chair.

  "Truth is, I don't know," Solly said, "but if it's a relay, then there's a chance we could find a way to crack the encryption and listen in."

  "And what do you know about code breaking, Solly?" Vivian snarked.

  Solly looked around at her. "Well, I was an app developer. But, honestly, I just thought it was too good an opportunity to miss. The geeks at Wright-Patterson might be able to use it. It's just a pity Alison's gone. I'd be willing to bet she'd crack it in seconds."

  He reached beneath the seat of the Humvee and pulled out the cylinder that had once contained the artificial personality he'd come to…what was the word? Love? No. He wasn't deranged enough to become that attached to a machine. But he did feel sad about what had happened and he wished he could talk to her again.

  As they drove through the half-lit streets of Louisville, Solly turned the cylinder over in his hands and repeatedly prodded the activation switch with exactly the same result he'd achieved the other hundred times he'd done it. No sign of the cyan eye, no hint of sentience. He'd thought about replacing the power cells, in case it was as simple as a drained battery, but Scott Lee had said Alison used kinetic energy to recharge and, in any case, where would he get replacements?

  "It's 8 p.m.," Vivian said from the back seat. "Don't you have a call to make?"

  Jerked from his thoughts, Solly reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a walkie-talkie before tuning it to the agreed frequency.

  "This is Traveling Wilbury to General Clark. Are you clear for reception, over."

  After a few moments, the handset crackled and the voice of Administrator Weinstein emerged. "Traveling Wilbury, this is General Clark. We are clear. Congratulations on the success of your mission. Am I to assume that what we discussed is now possible?"

  Solly had explained to Weinstein that, by changing channels, he could communicate directly with Wright-Patterson. The current channel was for local traffic. They had agreed to a form of wording that wouldn't trigger suspicion if the conversation were to be intercepted and decoded. Making his communication secure would be a job for Weinstein, but the means was now at his disposal.

  "General Clark, yes, all is as agreed. Good luck."

  "Thank you. I wish you safe travel. General Clark out."

  They headed south out of Louisville and then onto 62. They had three more transmitters to install before Solly would be free of his obligation to McBride at Wright-Patterson and the last was in Memphis, a little over three hundred miles away.

  Mercifully, the following days passed without incident. As part of their deal with Weinstein, the Humvee's fuel tank and gas cans had been refilled, so they had enough to get them past Memphis and well on their way to southern Texas where their search would begin.

  That first night, they camped in the parking lot of a Taco Bell fifty miles southeast of Louisville in a place called Leitchfield. Ross was exhausted by the drive, but he was also happier than he'd been since the accident that had left him unable to walk.

  Solly knew the boy had regretted insisting he come on this journey almost as soon as they'd hit the road. He was obviously feeling insecure and grief stricken after the death of Janice and didn't want to remain at the farmhouse while Solly went on a mission to find his children by birth. But the grim realities of traveling across the country had hit home pretty quickly and his sense of uselessness had suppressed his naturally sunny nature until, by some miracle, he'd felt that first tingling in his right leg.

  And now he'd driven them out of the city and fifty miles southeast so Solly and Vivian could sleep.

  "Well done, son," Solly said as he helped Ross down from the driver's seat. Vivian had already jumped out and headed into the bushes that lined the parking lot, bright green shoots springing up from within as the seasons turned.

  "I can stand. Well, I can hop," Ross said with a rueful smile.

  Once they'd dealt with the biological necessities, Solly built a small fire in the lee of the Humvee and they each picked a random foil-wrapped pack of military rations to open and cook.

  Despite eating, no one had the energy to put up the tent they'd been provided with, so they climbed back into Humvee and spent an uncomfortable night sleeping upright in the seats.

  They got moving as soon as the sun came up the next day. To the disappointment of Ross, Solly took the first shift driving and they headed southeast through a green landscape of red soil and white rocks. On the first morning, they found the road blocked twice by vehicles that had been arranged to slow cars down. But there was no sign of the bandits who'd constructed these chicanes and, in any case, they would be unlikely to try to take on a Humvee containing an unknown number of armed occupants.

  There were still many abandoned vehicles on the stretches of highway between settlements. Almost all had been broken into—doors flung wide, windows broken, debris scattered across the road—and, once or twice, they spotted the decayed remains of the former occupant left for the birds to peck at. Dust, leaves and detritus covered the cars and Solly tried hard not to look too closely at them. He didn't have the imagination to pretend the Long Night hadn't happened as he drove along the interstate, but, equally, he didn't like being reminded of the toll it had taken.

  "What's that?" Ross asked, pointing into the distance. They'd been traveling for several hours and Solly's eyes had gotten heavy, but the urgency in Ross' voice brought him instantly to attention.

  Vivian's head appeared between the two front seats. "Roadblock," she said before reaching back and pulling out her weapon.

  The barricade had been built at an intersectio
n. The direct route took them to the left, onto I-69, but both sides had been blocked and, this time, the barrier was heavily manned. He spotted people running across from the other side of the road to reinforce the forest of rifle barrels that were pointing at the Humvee.

  "What are you going to do?" Ross said, in a voice as frightened as it was restrained.

  Solly was examining the barricade as they came closer. To the left—the direction they wanted to go—the cars had been lined up three deep, with figures standing behind the first row aiming at them as they got closer. On the main highway, it looked as though there were only two lines of cars and fewer fighters. There was clearly something after the left hand turn that these people wanted to protect.

  "I'm going through," Solly said, pushing down on the gas pedal. "I've had enough delays.

  The first shots hit the windshield as the Humvee accelerated with a roar towards the narrower barrier. Two impact craters appeared in the glass, and Solly began to weave a little to make it harder for their attackers to find their mark.

  Thud, bang.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Solly saw Ross gripping his seat, his stare fixed on the road ahead and the imminent impact.

  But Solly had seen his target. Two rows where the tail of one car lined up with the nose of the one behind it rather than being staggered like the others.

  He accelerated, watching with satisfaction as figures scattered, anticipating a high-speed impact. Then, as they got within twenty yards of the barricade, Solly slammed his foot on the brake, bringing the Humvee to almost a complete stop as it came into contact with the first car. He heard the automatic transmission downshift and gently punched the gas pedal, using the newfound momentum and torque to push one car into another. As the barrier came apart, he gave it some more gas just as a hailstorm hit the sides of the Humvee and it lurched out of the newly formed gap and onto the open highway.

  More volleys hit the rear of the Humvee, but they were away.

  "Woooo!" Ross cried, and Solly realized he was cheering too.

  "That was…amazing!" Vivian said from the back seat as the sounds of gunfire died away.

  "They were idiots," Solly shouted over the roar of the engine. "Should have shot at the tires."

  He kept his foot down until they could be sure there was no pursuit, before turning onto I-55 heading south to approach Memphis from the northwest.

  Though adrenaline was still knifing through his veins and he could feel the beginnings of a headache, none of them wanted to stop until they absolutely had to. But neither did they want to enter Memphis at night.

  "There's an RV park somewhere over that way," Ross said, pointing into the gloom. "I saw a sign. Next turn."

  "Why would we want to stop at a camping site?" Solly asked.

  Ross shrugged. "We could park in the trees and no one would be able to see us from the road."

  "You're right. Good thinking."

  Solly took a right off 55 at Jericho and followed the signs.

  The Humvee cooled beneath a big beech tree, its exhaust pinging in the cold night air, as Solly and Vivian checked the nearby campsites to find they were all empty. There was, of course, no power, but a full moon had risen into a clear night sky so they could see well enough without needing to use flashlights.

  Ross hopped down from the passenger seat and Solly went to help him. "Here, son," he said, handing over a long branch. "Gandalf, receive your staff."

  Ross laughed out loud as he tested his weight on it. "You're such a geek, Sol!"

  "Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, my son, for they are subtle and quick to anger," Solly said, causing Ross to roar with laughter as he began moving around the site using his good leg and the staff.

  He stopped suddenly. "I need to go to the bathroom, and fast."

  Solly watched as Ross hobbled off, getting more and more proficient as he practiced. He was proud of the young man. He'd coped with more than anyone should have to and yet he could still laugh.

  "I'll light a fire, shall I?" Vivian said as Ross disappeared into a small stand of trees and out of the moonlight. "Is it safe?"

  Solly shrugged. "There's no sign of anyone else, but keep it out of sight as much as you can. Do you reckon there's enough dry kindling?"

  "Oh yeah. You fetch the firelighters and I'll gather some leaves."

  By the time Ross reappeared, the little fire was blazing greedily.

  Solly looked up as the boy came toward them.

  Vivian sprang up, ran to the Humvee and opened the passenger door before returning, weapon in hand.

  "What are you doing?"

  "He ain't alone, Solly."

  Solly squinted into the darkness, his heart pounding. What had they stumbled on here? Yes, now he could see, a second shape emerged from the trees and followed him in their direction. Then a third, larger and—Solly couldn't say how he knew this—older than the others, and carrying a shotgun.

  Solly pulled the Glock from its place in his inside pocket and called out, "Put your weapons down!"

  "I don't reckon so," the older figure called. "I got your boy here covered, so maybe you should be the ones to drop your weapons. Now, my granddaughter here has got us into this mess, but I'm fixin' to get us out of it."

  "No way!" Vivian called. "You stop right there, old man, or I'll drop you right where you stand. I got a clear shot."

  "No, please!" the younger figure called. "Can we just not do this? Please?"

  It was the voice of a girl and it took Solly's brain several heartbeats before he realized that he knew it.

  "Drop your weapons or I shoot," Vivian was shouting. "I ain't warning you again, you get me?"

  He could see the girl's head shake as she stood behind Ross. "Just let us go!" she called. "Come on Grandpa, let's leave these people be!"

  "Do I look like a meshuggener? They'll come after us! Haven't you learned anything, girl?"

  Solly wanted to speak, but his throat had seized and his mouth had gone dry.

  "Maddie?"

  It came out like a whisper.

  "Maddie?" he shouted. "Maddie, is it you? Is that Al?"

  His call bounced around the clearing, the only sound in the otherwise silent night as they all held their breath.

  "Dad?"

  Solly was up on his feet and running towards them. A shot rang out and he spun around. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

  And she was in his arms. And he was spinning her around, tears cascading over his cheeks. And the old man dropped his shotgun, moving close enough to squint at the two of them. "I nearly shot you, Solly," he said. "Maybe I have gone meshuggener."

  Solly threw out his arm and pulled the old man into the three-way embrace. No words came to him or Maddie as they cried together, celebrating a miracle and a reunion that was the stuff of storybooks.

  Chapter 15

  That was the happiest night of his life. He'd known, rationally, that his family might have survived the Long Night when Paulie had told him that some versions of the BonesWare implant were immune to the sudden death experienced by nineteen out of twenty Americans. He'd known that there was a chance, but he hadn't dared to hope that Bella, Jake and Maddie were truly still alive.

  He'd grieved over his family in the weeks after that first night and he'd never wanted to re-open the protective scab that had formed around his heart by acknowledging that there was a chance they'd survived. He knew now that his journey to Texas had been more of a pilgrimage than a rescue mission. He'd expected to find no trace of them, hoping, perhaps, to find solace in going through the motions; knowing that he'd tried his best.

  All of this self-constructed artifice had been exposed the instant he'd recognized Maddie's voice and the dam had burst. It had been the happiest night of his life, and yet he'd cried until he was empty. All that remained was a sense of wholeness that had been missing since the day he'd left to fly to New York for the job Bella had been so keen for him to take. Since the day he'd become an occasional visitor in his own ho
me.

  But, as he floated in the relief of being able to hold his daughter close again, fear circled like a great white shark. Maddie and Al were safe, and, according to them, Bella had been alive and well two nights ago, though the fact that they'd been sent to a safe place by “this Skulls fella” meant she was going into danger. Jake was lost. Entrusted into the care of yet another stranger.

  All of that, however, could wait until tomorrow. For tonight, they'd squeezed into Al's RV. Solly sat on the couch with his arm around Maddie. She'd barely stopped talking since they'd embraced but, finally, the words had run out and they were all enjoying the silence. Al was in the captain's chair, which he'd rotated to face inward, the flickering of the gas light—the only illumination he would allow—playing off his wrinkles and making him look like a particularly compact and decrepit Vincent Price.

  Ross and Viv sat together at the dinette in the rear. Had Solly been able to extend his awareness beyond the little bubble containing himself and Maddie, he might have noticed that his euphoria wasn't shared by either of them. Ross, in particular, sat silently, the back window looking out on the night reflecting nothing but his stony expression.

  "What are you going to do about Mom, Dad?" Maddie said, finally.

  Solly, who'd been dozing contentedly, jerked to full awareness. "What? Oh, go and find her, of course."

  Maddie rotated her head so she could look up at her father. "Are you sure you're my dad?"

  "What d'you mean?"

  She chuckled. "You were sad when you left for New York, and even sadder when you last visited."

  "We were getting a divorce, Mad. It wasn't a happy time for either of us."

  Maddie went quiet again and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I like the beard. And being thinner suits you."

  He felt her shift against his chest. "Dad, I have to tell you something. Mom and Skulls…"

  "It's okay, honey," he said. And it was, it really was. At least, he thought so. He wouldn't know until his emotions settled down a little. Part of him wanted to talk about Janice, but he found he couldn't. This was a happy time. It might not last, but he didn't want to be the one to burst the bubble.

 

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