Tomorrow's Dawn (Book 3): Escape and Evade

by Wohlrab, Jeff

  “Okay, but if he gets pissed off, it’s on you.”

  Jim squeezed his temples with his left hand. How the hell was someone like this the gatekeeper for a Senator? She was probably good in the sack, that’s all he could think of to explain it. “Thanks Darlene, this one is on me. Please let the Senator know.”

  It was almost two minutes later when Bobby Snead picked up the phone. “You have them? Where?”

  Jim answered quickly. “I’ve identified four of the five. One of them is missing and not with the group. They’re on a highway overlook in North Carolina near Highlands. On foot.”

  “Where the fuck is Highlands?”

  Jim checked his screen. “It looks like they’re about four miles into North Carolina right now. They’re just northeast of a place called Scaly Mountain. They’re moving slowly.”

  Jim listened to the silence on the other end of the line. Then heard, “I’m sending the helicopter for you. I want you back here, now.”

  Jim protested. “But sir, the drone is in the air. It’s going to take me longer to get it back here than it will for the helicopter to arrive.”

  The terse response was, “Let it crash. Be on that helicopter.”

  The shaken man could only respond, “Yes, sir.” The Senator had already hung up.

  It could only mean two things. He was going to be killed when he got there or he was going to have to fly the Peregrine, and then he’d probably be killed. Just like the last pilot. He didn’t have time to go anywhere. The flight back had taken less than forty-five minutes. Where could he run in forty-five minutes? Nowhere. He couldn’t go south, that was all controlled by the Senator.

  Jim could try escaping west into Alabama, but state borders didn’t seem to mean much anymore. North or East could work, but could he get far enough away in the time that he had? Doubtful. As he thought about his options, he redirected the drone to fly straight to the east. When it ran out of fuel, it would be over the ocean. Nobody would get hurt.

  Now he had even less time. Jim wasn’t going to run. He’d let this play out. Maybe he wasn’t going to be killed. The fact he was getting pulled off of surveillance to go back to Americus was deeply disturbing though. It didn’t make sense. The Senator would want eyes on the targets. No, he was being recalled to fly the Peregrine. The Senator was planning to use nukes again.

  Jim wasn’t about to be part of that. He checked his watch. No time. What was he going to do? Chances were, he was going to be dead before the end of the day. Drop the nukes on the control room? No, the Peregrine was flying out from an airbase north of the Senator’s place. He wouldn’t be able to fly it south without being caught. He’d have to crash it en route. It was the only thing that made sense.

  Jim went into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. It was his life, because he’d certainly be killed for this, in exchange for hundreds of lives, maybe thousands, if he dropped the bombs. If he thought he’d survive, he might be willing to do it. Those people didn’t mean anything to him. His own life did. But the last pilot had dropped bombs and died. He would die, too.

  Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe something else happened. Maybe there was a way to survive this. Why make a rash decision now? If he went along, he might live through the event. Hell, he might even be pulled into the Senator’s inner circle. He could show how trustworthy he was.

  No, just like those lives didn’t mean anything to Jim, Jim’s life meant nothing to the Senator. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but the Senator had killed billions across the globe. He’d used nuclear weapons on U.S. soil, and was about to again. He would feel no compunction about killing another. Jim was going to die, but what could he do before then?

  Maybe there was still time to run. Maybe he could get away. How much time did he have left? As the sound of the helicopter’s rotors sounded faintly in the distance, he knew he was just fooling himself. He was going to Americus, and he’d have to make a decision.

  Chapter 35

  “Nantahala National Forest? Is the entire southeast some sort of national forest? I swear, I’ve never seen so many weirdly named forests in my life,” Daniel said. “It’s like national forest, house, national forest, small town, national forest.” He continued talking to himself until they came to another brown sign, which also said Nantahala National Forest. This one had Osage Mountain below it in smaller print.

  It was some sort of overlook, and they were all ready for a break. For some reason, the views from the road were almost entirely limited by the numerous trees on both sides. They hadn’t gotten a good look at where they were yet, just road and trees.

  “Wow,” Marcy said as she looked over a valley surrounded by peaks. “This is beautiful.”

  Daniel moved up beside her. “It really is. I’m not in Georgia anymore. I thought I was never going to get out of Georgia.” Daniel waved off into the distance. “Bye, Georgia.”

  They were all taken by surprise when the big man started singing in a high voice, “I’m finally free! There were other words interspersed throughout, but Daniel kept repeating those three. He looked around eventually, “I only remember part of the chorus.”

  “What the hell was that?” Jessica asked.

  “I’ve been stationed at Fort Gordon forever. Literally, forever. Okay, not literally, but figuratively, forever.”

  Jessica shook her head, “No, not that. The whole spontaneously bursting into song thing.”

  “Oh, it’s Stitched Up Heart. I love them. I love them so dearly, you won’t understand. Mixi Demner is my favorite. That woman has the voice of an angel.” He held up a hand, “Wait.” Daniel reached in his pocked for his phone and turned it on. “I will share this joy with you.” He shifted impatiently as it loaded. After a few clicks, he found the song he was looking for. “It’s off their first album. I saw them at Rock on the Range in 2019 and fell in love.”

  Marcy stopped him. “You fell in love with her or the music.”

  Daniel answered, “Yes. Just listen.”

  From his phone, they could hear haunting tones as the song began.

  “Wait, that’s her voice?”

  Daniel nodded. “Right.” As the song progressed, it gradually increased in intensity until the singing was near a scream. Daniel smiled, “Goosebumps. Isn’t she amazing?”

  Marcy just stared at him with an eyebrow raised. “Mmmhmmm. Amazing.”

  Jessica smiled at the obvious jealousy. “I know that song. I think I saw them with Halestorm a long time ago. Best concert of my life. That girl has some serious talent.”

  Daniel looked at her, “Mixi? Or Lzzy?”

  “Both.”

  Jensen stayed silent. Best not to get into the middle of that, but behind Marcy’s back he surreptitiously raised his thumb in approval as if to say, Great song, and she could really sing. Then he tried to rescue Daniel against his better judgement. “I’d love to see them with Sevendust.”

  Daniel put his hands to his head. “That’s what I’m saying! Best female voice with best male voice? Lajon and Mixi? Oh my god, if they did a duet, I think my face would melt.”

  Jensen started walking up the road, hoping the rest would follow. He didn’t like being out in the open like that. His fears were well founded, because that was the moment when Jim verified their identities and called the Senator.

  Bobby Snead called Trevor moments later to let him know it was time to move. They could be loaded up and on the road in thirty minutes, with another thirty minutes or so to get to the location. Jensen, Daniel, Jessica, and Marcy had maybe another hour before overwhelming firepower found them.

  In the time it took for Jim to make the decision, finish his call with the Senator, and for the information relay from the head of security to the security teams in Clayton, the small group had gone another mile. They were still several miles from Highlands on an open road. They were sitting ducks. They just didn’t know it.

  It was another thirty minutes before the group of four saw a barricade ahead of them. It wa
s an Oshkosh tanker truck parked across the road. It was manned by heavily armed men. Jensen stopped. They were in rifle range but could move into the trees or back around the bend if they had to. This was the only route through, and going through would mean dealing with the men at the roadblock.

  Maybe it was defensive, maybe it wasn’t. It still worried him. The attack on the Dahlonega caravan flashed through his mind. More crazed rednecks trying to steal women? Was it possible they could run into that sort of thing again? Then again, their mountain fortress had been pretty heavily fortified; maybe they were protecting themselves from renegades as well. There was no way to know without talking to them.

  He didn’t want to talk to them. Jensen just wanted to go through. They didn’t have a home anymore. No place to settle down. They would be outsiders no matter where they went. In the tight-knit mountain communities, they’d stand out, especially Daniel. Daniel would stand out anywhere, but particularly in these all-white mountain communities.

  It was tiring being on the run. It was miserable going without food or clean water. Or clean clothes for that matter. All they had were the clothes on their back and the weapons at their sides. And each other. If anyone threatened that, he’d kill them. That decision was already made.

  Jensen ignored the barricade for the moment and looked to their flanks. This corner was where someone would stop if they weren’t expecting to run into a roadblock, so it only made sense to have someone stationed there. He was right. Slightly up the hill, he detected a subtle movement. Someone was lying down up there.

  “Hey, we’re not looking for any trouble. What’s going on with the roadblock?” The person up the hill didn’t respond. “I can see you. I know you’re there. You might as well answer.”

  From up the hill, he heard a young male voice. “I’m not supposed to talk to anybody mister. Let me radio in and find out what the Colonel wants to do with you.”

  “What do you mean what the Colonel wants to do with us? We’re free people and we’re certainly not going to have anything done with us. We can turn right around and go back.”

  The voice came again. “I misspoke. Let me call in and let the Colonel know someone new is here. Then he can decide if he wants to let you in or not.”

  While he spoke to the young man, Jensen waved the other members of the party back a little way, just around the bend from the roadblock. He could see activity up there, but he wanted to keep the rest of them out of sight for safety. Who knew what kind of rapists or racists they were dealing with here? And what sort of schmuck goes by Colonel?

  The whole situation was looking bad. When were they going to learn to stay out of the mountains? Outsiders weren’t exactly welcome; they had either been targeted or harassed by everyone they’d met so far.

  He could hear a low voice from above, as the young man in the trees called in the new arrivals. He couldn’t make out what he said, but the response was loud and clear. “An Army plate carrier? Please hold them there. I’ll be out momentarily.”

  The Oshkosh truck roared to life and moved forward enough for a Humvee to through the gap. That got Jensen’s attention. Where did these people get all the military equipment? The Oshkosh truck and Humvee were military vehicles. The men riding inside were both in uniform. The one on the passenger side was black, a rarity in the mountains. What was going on?

  The Humvee stopped in front of them and the passenger got out. The man was wearing the rank of a Master Sergeant, or E-8. Jensen spoke first. “What’s going on here master sergeant? Is this military? There’s no base out here.”

  The man smiled. “Captain, I presume? We’re what’s remaining of Fort Bragg. We’re staged here for now, along with a couple other towns away from the coast.”

  Jensen replied, “I was a Captain. I’m not sure if I am anymore.”

  The uniformed man in front of him popped to attention and saluted. “Captain, good to meet you.” When Jensen returned the salute, he followed with, “May I invite you and your friends into camp? You look as though you could use a good meal and some rest.”

  During the exchange, the others had drawn in closer to hear what was going on. At the offer of food, Daniel broke in. “I’m down for some food. Have your way with me, as long as I get dinner first.”

  The MSG grinned at Daniel. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but we’re having fried chicken today.”

  Daniel walked forward and wrapped the MSG in a huge hug. “You make me so happy. I haven’t seen another black man in months, and now you offer me fried chicken? I think I love you.”

  Jensen was laughing when something caught his attention. It was the sound of a big diesel engine under strain. He looked toward the Oshkosh truck to see if it was moving, but the sound was coming from behind them.

  He started running as soon as he located the sound. “Canid! Get to the barricade! Go! Go! Go!” Daniel was already moving, but the MSG looked confused. “Fall back! We’ve got aggressors inbound!” He searched for Jessica, but she was running flat out toward the Oshkosh truck with Marcy close behind. He felt a sense of relief as he followed; hopefully she’d make it. He might be too far out.

  She looked back at him and their eyes met. Hers were fearful, not for what was coming up the hill, but for him. She silently urged him to run faster. Jensen was fifty feet from the truck when he looked back and saw a tub coming around the corner. He almost stopped in mid stride. Where did the Senator get tubs? Behind it, he could see the hulking size of a Canid, and behind that, another.

  The Humvee had turned in the narrow road and was starting back. The guns of the tub lit up and sent rounds into the unarmored Humvee. The driver and the master sergeant were dead almost instantly as the Humvee continued to roll forward with nobody at the controls. In the time it took for Jensen to watch their chests blow out onto the windshield, he had reached the barrier and crawled under.

  He had hoped for some sort of military encampment on the far side. Maybe some tanks. What he saw was just open road. The blockade had been set up on the outskirts of town. There was nobody there to help them.

  Chapter 36

  Jim got off the helicopter and looked around, expecting to see the Senator. Instead a lean man wearing a polo shirt walked up to him. “Jim? I’m Trevor. I need you to come with me.” In some way, Jim was relieved to be dealing with someone other than the Senator. Jim felt uncomfortable looking him in the eye. He just saw crazy there. On the other hand, maybe he’d already been deemed expendable, which was why someone else met him at the chopper.

  All he could do was nod and follow. They traced a familiar route through the construction to the operations center. Jim gave a little wave to Darlene as they walked through the outer office. Inside the operations center, he was guided to a different work position, which was already queued up and running.

  Trevor looked at him. “Today you’ll be flying the Peregrine. I’ll be your sensor operator and take care of armaments. Have you flown one of these before?”

  Jim shook his head. “The Senator was going to send me up to Robins for some hands-on training, but we haven’t gotten that set up yet.”

  A small scowl reached Trevor’s eyes, but quickly disappeared. “How about other UAVs?”

  To this, Jim was able to nod. “I’ve flown Reapers, Shadows, and Hawks.” Trevor seemed satisfied. “Very nice. You’ll take to this in no time. It’s a lot bigger than the smaller drones, so the maneuvers have to be a bit more gradual. Otherwise, it’s about the same as a Global Hawk.”

  Trevor moved easily over to another workstation, this one turned so he could watch Jim without his screens being seen. That wasn’t how this normally worked. In the past, he’d been set up with both operators able to see each other’s screens for redundancy. Once, he’d had to fly a Reaper using the sensor operator’s screens due to an electronics issue. That wouldn’t be the case today.

  Today Jim would be flying under the watchful eye of a man named Trevor, who had already mentioned he would be controlling the armament
s. Jim knew what that meant. The Peregrine was carrying bombs. Probably nukes. Jim dearly hoped they wouldn’t have to use them. If he had to drop nukes, it would be a death sentence.

  “Transferring control to you, Jim. The bird is already warmed up and ready to go. I’ve marked a spot on your map and flight path. Prepare to copy UTM coordinates. Coordinates are 17S. Easting 295614, Northing 3879932. Please repeat those back to me.”

  Jim repeated the numbers exactly. It was a location just southwest of Highlands, North Carolina. He knew what was there. The group of four must have moved a couple miles more toward the small town in the mountains. “Location locked. All systems are in the green.”

  Trevor acted almost like an air traffic controller. Somehow, they were able to do this without going through official channels. “Taxi to runway 12W. 8 knot crosswind from west. You’ll need to give her just a little rudder on takeoff.” During the taxi, Jim tried to get a feel for the power of the drone.

  From the locator on his screen, he could see the bird was currently at Robins Air Force base, not far from where the helicopter had picked him up. For some reason, this bird was on its own secure network. That was bad. There aren’t many reasons for a machine like the Peregrine to be on a private network, none of them good.

  Jim couldn’t see the armaments on the bird from his position. He just had top and forward views from the aircraft. He was dying to know what was under the wings. As he rotated the Peregrine at the beginning of the runway, he asked, “Trevor, what’s our takeoff weight?”

  “Fuel load of 21,000 pounds, with two GBU 82 precision bombs under the wings. Total weight is 37,000 pounds.” He tapped his keyboard a few times. “Loiter time on station should be about thirty-seven hours. We might be in for a long one here.”

  Jim started to relax. If the bird was carrying conventional weapons, that wasn’t so bad. To him, there was a big difference between dropping a nuclear weapon and a conventional weapon. People would still die, but it was somehow less of an issue. If Trevor was worried about loiter time, then maybe it wasn’t just a bombing run. He could survive this.