The Long Night Box Set

by Kevin Partner

  And that was that. Paulie managed a tiny smile as Marvin glanced at her and they made their plans.

  There was no sign of anyone patrolling the barricade, and Paulie's overwhelming impression as she and Tucker crept towards the town was of silence. Unnatural silence.

  They hugged the cover until they reached the door Nicky Friedman had used to get into the department store basement. It was locked. They exchanged glances and Paulie nodded. Marvin's boot made short work of the door, the crash echoing around the walls as they tensed, waiting for the sound of rushing feet.

  Nothing. Paulie went in first, fumbling in the darkness and cursing the fact that they'd found no batteries for their flashlight. The place stank and she prayed that it was nothing more than rotting stock as she made her way by touch through the darkness with nothing but the stumbling footsteps of Marvin Tucker for company.

  She caught a glimpse of a light above her and almost fell over the bottom of a flight of wooden steps that ended in a door she forced open. She climbed up into the storefront she'd hidden in with Nicky Friedman before she'd decided to go to Seattle. The place was littered with empty cardboard boxes and empty shelves, all covered in a layer of dust.

  Marvin knelt at the window and peered out. "Nothing," he muttered. "I reckon the place has been emptied. Everyone's been shipped off to Seattle."

  "Not everyone," Paulie said, pointing.

  "Well, I'll be," Marvin said. "Looks as though old Custer's still in business, anyway."

  Two figures stood outside the department store entrepreneur Custer Petrov had allowed to be turned into the main community building in Arbroath after the Long Night. They were leaning against a wall, sheltering from the chill morning wind, plumes of smoke rising from their cigarettes.

  "Maybe this place isn't as dead as we thought," Paulie said. Another figure was moving from a building opposite towards the guards, who straightened up. Paulie could now see that the newcomer was a woman carrying a heavy box. The two figures opened the top of the box and, laughing, sent her inside, struggling with the weight of it.

  "I think everyone's in there," Marvin said. "Everyone who's left, that is."

  "Which means we've got to get in. Come on."

  But they couldn't move until the sun had come around far enough to cast a deep shadow on the front of the shop. They waited until the guards seemed to be facing in a different direction, then crept out of the front door and followed the sidewalk, hugging the walls to keep out of sight until they could dart onto a side road.

  Paulie knew these streets intimately, so she was able to lead Marvin along roads that skirted the department store while keeping them out of sight until they finally arrived back at the far side of the building. They'd not seen a living being, just streets littered with blown leaves and dirt.

  Just as they were creeping out from cover, a voice called out and they froze. "Hey, is that you, Sheriff?"

  Paulie swung around, gun in hand, to where the sound had come from. Then she realized whose voice she'd heard. "Wally? Is it you?"

  Walter Hammond, Vietnam vet turned guerrilla, waved at her from an open second floor window. "Come on up," he hissed theatrically.

  They found him in a dark little room and he ran up to Paulie and shook her hand warmly. "I sure am pleased to see you, Sheriff! I ain't no leader, that's for sure. Who's this?"

  "Marvin Tucker," Marvin said, holding out his hand.

  "Walter Hammond, sergeant, Red Devils," he said, saluting. "And you've served, I can see it."

  Marvin smiled. It had been a lifetime ago. "Gunnery sergeant, Marine Corps."

  "This here's Maggie," Hammond said, pointing to a figure that had been crouching, unnoticed, in the shadows of the room's corner. With effort, the woman got up and approached them.

  "I don't recognize you," Paulie said, taking her hand.

  "I came here looking for safety," the woman responded. She looked as though she was in her late sixties and her face had a haunted look. "Found the place had all gone to pot just before I arrived. The others all got took. Walter saved me."

  "It wasn't just me," the old man said, with a smile. "Nicky and Jack were here."

  "Jack? Jack Rutz?" Marvin said. "I thought he'd run for the hills."

  Wally opened his mouth, but Paulie interrupted. "Wally, where's Nicky?"

  He pointed through the window at the wall of Alldays Department Store. "She went in there with Jack. We'd seen most of the guards leave and she said she could handle the rest, so they went inside to let the folk in there out."

  "How long ago?"

  "Eight days now. Maggie and I were fixin' to go in after them tonight. Then you showed up. I won't deny I'm relieved."

  Paulie pulled up a chair. This looked as though it had been a little apartment above a shop, with an old table, some chairs and, through a doorway, a small kitchen. "And everyone from the town's in there?"

  "Everyone that's left," Wally said. "Most were taken off to Seattle, but the sick and many of the kids were left there. Custer Petrov's in charge, so heaven help them."

  "And heaven help Petrov if he's harmed any of them," Paulie said. "Wally, I've left my daughter, Luna, up on Cove Road…" She realized, as she said this that the old man wasn't a local. "Follow the river road out of town then head up the hill, it's signposted."

  "Sure," he said, his head wagging. "And what do you want me to do when I find her?"

  "Look after her, and her dog. Stay out of Arbroath, stay safe. Marvin and I will see what we can do in there."

  Nicky Friedman, the deputy leading the resistance, had gone in through the loading bay at the back of the department store, according to Wally, so Paulie decided on a more straightforward approach. She and Marvin would jump the guards and enter through the front door.

  They sat in the little room after Wally and Maggie had left, waiting for night to fall. Their plan was to try to get in during the early hours when, hopefully, the people inside were sleeping, and so they had many hours to sit and stew.

  To her delight, Paulie found a little shower behind the kitchen and, in the bedroom beyond, she opened a wardrobe to see a spare deputy's uniform. And it was clean. She emerged, truly clean for the first time since she'd left Wright-Patterson weeks ago and painfully aware that, although she smelled of the rose-scented soap in the shower, this served only to accentuate how fragrant Marvin was. She ordered him to remove his shirt, vest and pants, and threw him a spare pair of Wally's underpants to put on while she hand-washed his clothes.

  "I can do that for myself," Marvin said as he wrapped his coat around his naked body.

  "Maybe," Paulie responded, surprised at the sharp tone in his voice, "but I've got nothing better to do, and I'm pretty sure I can do a better job than you. You're quite the new age man, Marvin."

  Tucker snorted. "I don't even know what that means, but I always did my own washing. Only way I could be sure it was clean."

  Paulie smiled at him and half-filled the sink from a bucket before tipping in water heated on their camping stove. She lost herself in the simple, physical task of rubbing the sweat and grime out of the uniform with soap and a dish brush.

  Paulie slipped around the corner and pressed her gun against the back of the first guard's head as Marvin leveled his shotgun at the other. "Quiet!" she hissed.

  It was almost midnight and the only light was provided by a burning brazier on the steps outside the store. Within seconds, Marvin had tied up and gagged the second guard while she watched the other. He looked to be of oriental appearance, though it was too dark to say any more than that, and he didn't say a word as Marvin pulled out a pair of cable ties and secured his arms.

  They were led to an empty shop opposite, ordered to lie down and their legs were bound before Marvin tied them to a radiator for good measure and Paulie took their keys.

  "That went well," Marvin said as they ran back across to the front door of the department store. "Quiet as mice."

  Paulie tried three keys before finding one
that worked and she pushed gently at it, praying it wouldn't squeak. Once it was wide enough, they crept into the darkness.

  She formed an image in her mind's eye of the layout of the store, but was quickly reduced to feeling her way in the hope of finding the door that led to the makeshift hospital she'd set up. The plan was to liberate enough people to enable her to take over the store and bring Custer Petrov to justice.

  Her hand wrapped around a door handle and she pushed down. The door opened onto blackness, but she didn't feel the flow of air that would suggest she was in the corridor she was expecting. Paulie was just about to close it again when a red flash caught her eye. Before the Long Night, she'd have written it off as nothing more than the random flashing of, say, a smoke alarm but in this new world, it was incongruous. What powered equipment could be in here?

  They hadn't dared use the flashlight Wally had left for fear of attracting attention, but Paulie decided to risk it. She tugged on Marvin's arm to bring him inside and silently shut the door behind them, sealing them inside. She pointed the flashlight at the blinking red light and flicked it on.

  There, on a small table in the center of what had once been a storage room, sat a black glossy object with four arms, each of which ended in rotors.

  "Oh my God!" Paulie gasped. "No. Not here too!"

  "What is it? A drone?" Marvin said.

  "It's a Reaper," Paulie said. "Come on, we've got to get out of here now!"

  "What about Nicky and the others?"

  Paulie went to open the door. "We'll think about that later. Now, we must get out. Come on Marvin!"

  A door behind the drone was flung open and they heard the unmistakable click of safeties being disengaged.

  Paulie swung round.

  Three figures in olive uniforms with red stars on their chests stood there.

  "Tingzhi!"

  Chapter 4

  The final five miles to the Las Cruces base almost killed them, and Nathan was reduced to half-carrying Su-Mi as he fought to keep himself upright. His throat was as dry as the desert he stumbled through, and his stomach felt like a shriveled bag, but still he thrust one booted foot down after another.

  It had been over two weeks since the attack on the naval base in San Diego and they'd sure kicked the ants’ nest over. It had been a miracle they'd escaped from the city in the aftermath as the Sino-NK troops had begun tightening the noose around it far quicker than he'd expected. It became obvious that the enemy had a satellite communication system that meant they could coordinate the search for their attackers and, many times over those days, Nathan had been certain they'd be captured.

  But somehow they'd escaped, though it seemed that their attack had stung the Chinese and NK forces into immediate action. As they ran eastward, the enemy followed. War was coming.

  He didn't have the energy to raise his head, so he only realized they had nearly reached the base when its external lights fell on the sand and grit at his feet. A call went up and Nathan Woods went down.

  He came around in a bed under a bright light. Nathan grabbed the hand that floated in front of his vision and forced it downwards.

  "Relax, Sergeant!"

  Like a switch, full consciousness snapped into place and he let go, pulled himself up and looked around. He was in a hospital bed, but the man in the room with him wore fatigues beneath his white coat.

  "Thank you," the doctor said, rubbing his wrist. "I'm glad to see you awake again, Sergeant Woods. You were severely dehydrated, malnourished and suffering from sunstroke."

  "Where's Su-Mi?" he croaked.

  "She recovered before you and has been moved to the main wing. You've been through quite the trauma, Woods, and you need a little rest before you resume duty. I'll order some food for you and notify the colonel that you're conscious."

  Woods was finishing a bowl of chicken soup when Colonel Martinez swept in through the curtain.

  "Please, finish your meal," he said as Nathan held his chunk of bread ready to soak up the last of the liquid.

  "I'm glad to see you're recovering," Martinez continued, giving Nathan time to finish. "Corporal Pak has briefed me on your activities since leaving here and you are to be commended on your conduct. Both of you."

  Nathan swallowed the last delicious mouthful and washed it down with a glass of water. "Thank you, sir," he said. "Would you like my full report now?"

  "No need, Pak has been quite thorough. The doctor says you will be sufficiently recovered tomorrow and you can fill in the details then."

  "They're coming, Colonel. The Chinese and North Koreans. They'll be here any day. Phoenix has fallen."

  The colonel nodded. "I know. My scouts have been tracking them for the past week."

  "Are you evacuating?" Nathan asked, before remembering to add, "Sir."

  He could see the colonel's expression harden. "No. Our orders are to hold the line."

  "What? That's insane!"

  "I am going to excuse that outburst, Sergeant Woods, both on account of your recent conduct and because you are clearly still suffering the aftereffects of your mission. But I will obey the chain of command, Sergeant, as I am bound by my oath to do. For as long as John Murphy is the president of this country, I will continue to follow his orders."

  Nathan slumped back onto the bed as he felt the adrenaline spike expire and the tendrils of sleep impinge on his conscious mind. He thought he heard the colonel speak again.

  "And my orders include sending you to deliver your report personally to the president."

  He might even have heard the words, "Sorry, son."

  Nathan sat in the back of the sedan as it headed east. Next to him, Su-Mi was looking out the window at the arid terrain. Well, at least the TLX wasn't going to be caught with its pants down, Nathan thought. They passed military vehicles and personnel moving in the opposite direction. He hoped they were intended to reinforce the small garrison at Las Cruces, but feared they would be too late to do any good.

  He was being taken to meet with President Murphy at Fort Stockton, a small town on 10. Su-Mi, though she hadn't been included in the original mission orders, was also going. Officially, they were to brief the president on what they'd seen in San Diego and during their journey back, but Nathan detected a sub-plot at work. Murphy didn't like anyone to know more than he did, nor did he like heroes other than himself. Nathan had seen it in the man's eyes—jealousy of an earned reputation.

  At least Jake was with them. He sat next to the driver and it occurred to Nathan more than once that, between the three of them, they could overpower their guard and make a break for it. But he wasn't entirely confident that he could rely on Jake to take his side if he attempted it and, after all, where would they go? Because, at least in part, of their actions in San Diego, military forces on both sides had been stirred up into a frenzy of activity and it would be very difficult to go against the westward flow without raising suspicion.

  They'd said little to each other on the journey. Jake had been relieved and delighted to see Nathan alive and, more or less, well, but it quickly became obvious that he was, if anything, even more fanatically loyal to the president than he had been before Nathan's mission. He saw it as a stroke of genius on Murphy's part to send Woods to spy on the enemy and a testament to Nathan that he'd succeeded.

  They'd seen little sign of civilians either on the roads or in the settlements they passed and Nathan guessed Murphy had ordered them to move eastwards so his forces could fight unencumbered by fears of collateral damage. Every now and again, however, they would see a reminder of the strict military discipline now in force. Hanging from gibbets by the side of the road and twisting gently in the desert breeze, they saw bodies in fatigues. Some wore the uniforms of the enemy, others were TLX fighters. Signs hung from around broken necks with the single word "Deserter."

  Nathan noticed that Jake looked away when they approached such grisly evidence of the regime's brutality. He so wanted to believe in the greatness of his president that he willfully ig
nored the evidence of his idol's psychosis.

  It was dark by the time they rolled into Fort Stockton. The president, they learned, was using the historic fort as his base and they were to be taken there.

  Jake brushed his uniform down as he got out of the car and adjusted his kepi to the regulation angle. Nathan watched as Jake preened himself with a teenager's naive enthusiasm and said a silent prayer that this adoration would at least keep the lad safe.

  "Ah, Sergeant Woods."

  Nathan snapped a salute as President John Murphy approached him, hand held out. They were in the former officers' quarters in the historic fort, though there was little enough to see as the main illumination came from gas lanterns scattered around the room. Nathan didn't doubt that the president could simply flick a switch to turn on the electric lights, but the man liked theater.

  "You've returned a hero, again," he said, his heavy features contriving to smile. "Your intelligence has proven invaluable in preparing us for the attack of our enemies. You also seem to have provoked them into a hasty stroke against us. Perhaps that will give us an advantage."

  "Yes, Mr. President," Nathan said.

  "At ease, Sergeant," Murphy sighed. "And this is Corporal Pak, I presume."

  Su-Mi saluted. "Yes sir, Mr. President."

  "You also have given invaluable service to the TLX," he said, pausing in front of her. "By betraying your own people not once but twice, you helped gain crucial intelligence, so I suppose we must be grateful."

  Nathan could sense Su-Mi tensing even further at these words.

  "And you must be Private Masters," he said, returning Jake's salute. "Who is the perfect embodiment of how we mustn't use our past history or, indeed, family relationships as an excuse to betray our country when it needs us. Well done, son."

  The president stepped back and Nathan waited, barely breathing, for the hammer to fall.

  "And, since we're talking of families, and of sons," Murphy said. "I think you might be interested to meet someone."