The captain hesitated before relenting. “I see your point. If he’s unreachable right now, it would be a good idea for you to fill me in on everything.”
Chapter 16
Randy, Indianapolis, Indiana
Their shift started at 10PM.
As they stepped into the evening air, a feeling of freedom washed over him. Despite the mask and the sealed-up clothing, he was out under the deep night sky, moon hanging like a golden pendulum above his right shoulder.
“Thanks for getting me off forklift duty,” Randy said. “I really appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
“No, seriously. I was about to go crazy in there grinding away. It’s nice to get outside.”
“Let’s head west,” David grinned. His lanky form loped off along the access road Dodger had driven them down days ago.
Randy followed, jogging behind the tall young man and easily keeping up. David wasn’t athletic by any means. In fact, his long legs and arms made him clumsier than anything. He trudged along with his rifle slung over his shoulder, reminding Randy of Chewbacca in the Star Wars movies.
They’d supplied him with a Smith & Wesson 9mm pistol and two full magazines of seven rounds each. That didn’t include the one already loaded in the weapon.
“Run into a lot of trouble out here?” he asked. He spoke loud to be heard through his air filtration mask.
“Not much,” David called back. “We don’t engage. We just report what we see. The guns are in case we get ambushed.”
Randy’s breath grew more ragged as he remembered the harrowing escape from the Colony troops. That was probably the last time he’d run so far, or so hard.
They reached a copse of trees on the other side of the access road. David stopped at the edge and turned back, waving at the warehouse. Randy craned his neck to see the person on the top floor return the gesture.
The building squatted in darkness, every crack covered, every window blacked out. Anyone passing by wouldn’t have a clue hundreds of people lived inside.
“I like to make sure they know I’m out here,” David said, “so they don’t accidentally chew me up with their guns.” With that, he trudged into the woods at a fast walk.
A trail stretched out in front of them, worn through the thick undergrowth by weeks of scouts treading on it. David swept aside any overhanging sticker switches or held them out so they wouldn’t snap back and hit Randy.
Fresh fungal growth fell away to the ground in a splash of dust. Compared to the pulsing black and crimson mold that had hit their farm, this material seemed harmless.
What surprised him was the late evening sound of birds chirping. They used to do that at the farm, but to hear it now filled his heart with a strange sense of hope.
On the other side of the woods, David found an oak tree with a large trunk and thick branches spreading out to both sides. They’d nailed pieces of plywood into it to make a precarious staircase.
David checked to ensure his rifle was secured and then glanced back. “Stay down here. I’m going up to have a look around.”
“Sure.”
Randy rested his hand on the butt of his pistol and watched as he climbed the awkward stairs. David grabbed the edges of the wooden slats and dug the toes of his boots above the wood pieces. Sometimes he slipped and Randy would reach out to break his fall.
Finally, David arrived at a two-by-twelve board they’d hammered on top of a branch. He threw his right leg over it and kept his left foot on a step. Then he pulled out a pair of binoculars, put them to his eyes, and scanned the surroundings.
They’d hidden the stand in a great spot, overlooking a road. Beyond that was a wide parking lot and a primary parkway stretching westward where darkened restaurants sulked in the evening gloom. The scout seemed out of place perched up there balanced so poorly. He looked like he might fall any moment.
After a while, David plucked a two-way radio off his belt and spoke into it. “Ant to Hive. The Perch is clear.”
“Roger that, Ant. Stay safe out there.”
He returned his radio to his belt and descended the precarious stairs. It was even worse than his climb up, all elbows and knees sticking out everywhere.
After he landed with both boots on the ground, David turned to Randy with a wide grin. “I’m Ant, and the Hive is our base.”
“I picked that up,” he nodded. “How do you keep the Colony people from catching on?”
“We switch channels a lot. Keep all communications short. Like, less than ten words. Messages should be vague, unless it’s an emergency.”
“What would be an emergency?”
David looked out toward the parkway. “A half-dozen armored vehicles coming down the road. A hundred soldiers running across the parking lot armed to the teeth.”
Randy briefly imagined it, and a shudder danced up his spine.
“Let’s go,” David said. They left the protection of the woods, climbed a shallow gully, and jogged across the road.
They traversed the wide-open lot, leaving them exposed to enemy eyes for their two-minute run. Despite his clumsy nature, David was a rugged runner, and he wasn’t winded by the time they reached a cluster of parked cars.
David stopped between them and placed his back against a sedan’s passenger door. He tilted his head to the side as if listening. Randy didn’t hear anything ominous. No car engines, gunfire, or shouts.
“Coast is clear,” David said. He stood and crouch-walked between the cars, looking ridiculous as his head and shoulders stuck up above the hoods and trunks. Anyone spying them would easily see.
They slunk up to the massive building and slipped around to the front. They took up a position behind a cluster of bushes topped with a crown of grayish fungus.
A glance up showed a big sign with a fitness club logo. To the south, Randy spied a Japanese steakhouse, with its commercialized Asian-style architecture.
To the south lay a dark cluster of buildings he took to be downtown Indianapolis. It surprised him to see lights glowing from the highest windows.
“Those are Colony lookouts,” David said, noting his stare. He put his binoculars to his eyes and scanned their surroundings once more.
“We must be on the outskirts of town. It’s farther out than I remember. I guess Dodger’s car got us downtown so fast I didn’t notice.”
“Dodger.” David shook his head.
“You don’t like him?”
“He’s okay. Gets on my nerves.” He picked up his radio and spoke into it again. “Ant to Base. Muscle House is clear. Moving on.”
“Roger that, Ant. Stay safe.”
They continued west, sprinting from lot to lot, hiding between cars and crouching behind bushes. David called in at every checkpoint.
“We’ll take a break at the next stop,” David declared as he peeked around the back of a building toward an open mall square. Then he put his head down and sprinted the last hundred yards with Randy fast on his heels.
Fog filled in the edges of his mask and sweat poured down his face to pool at the bottom. It reminded him why he hated going outside in the first place, but he wouldn’t complain. It felt good doing something for the camp besides driving the forklift. Tricia would be proud.
As they approached the market square, David angled toward a building off to the side. It was a quaint little offshoot with a fondue sign. A patio connected the cheese shop with the larger mall. They snuck up and lost themselves in the tables and decorative bushes, edging to the front where they gazed across the parking lot.
“We’re about a mile and a half from base out now,” David said. He took his rifle off his shoulder, clenched it in a firm grip, and smiled at Randy. Then he placed it on a table, removed his pistol and holster, and set them next to the rifle. “This is the edge of my territory.”
“What do you do now?”
“I take a nice long break before I call in,” he chuckled. He glanced at his watch and then turned and plopped into one of the metalwork c
hairs. “You can’t let them think you’re too fast, or they’ll just give you more ground to cover.”
“Gotcha,” Randy grinned. It felt good knowing someone with experience around camp. He’d burned his bridge with Dodger and John, but David seemed willing to give him a chance. “What’s this checkpoint called?”
“Cheese Whiz,” he replied with a high chuckle, gesturing at the sign on the building’s side.
Randy laughed. “That makes sense.”
“It does, considering those Colony grunts probably can’t pronounce fondue much less define it.”
Randy laughed again, though he detected a hard tone to David’s voice, a departure from his usual sheepish self. He sounded less harmless. A little mean, even. But sometimes people talked differently when amongst friends. It could be just a ‘scout thing.’ Partners out on patrol, looking danger square in the face.
Randy removed his pistol and holster from his belt and placed it atop a different table. He dragged out a chair with a rough sound on the concrete and sat heavily.
After a moment, he leaned forward, eyes angled to his right at the rows of outdoor stores extending into the darkness. The signs remained unreadable, but they were easy to imagine.
He envisioned customers walking along the sidewalk or resting on one of the wrought iron benches. He saw parents strolling with their kids in the evening, checking out the candy and ice cream shops. Teenage girls bee-lining for the clothing and makeup stores. Older folks searching for candles and home goods, or maybe joining friends for a late dinner.
Randy saw it in front of his eyes like a movie playing. Then he blinked, and the scene disappeared. He shook his head, and a tear rolled down into his scruffy red beard.
“You okay, man?”
“I’m fine,” he replied. “Just thinking about old times.”
“Oh, me too. I’d do anything to get them back.”
Randy gave a weak scoff. “That’s not going to happen, my friend.”
David’s long fingers tapped on the arms of his chair. “No, but we can hold on to what little we have left. Like family. That’s important.”
He couldn’t read the tall scout’s face, but he jutted his chin at the man. “Jenny’s the only family I have left, as far as I know. Our parents died the day the spores hit. What about you?”
“Not much to tell. Dad died when I was a kid. Mom raised us, but not so well. She drifted a lot, got mixed up with bad men. My little brother and I got passed around to family members. Once, we even ended up in a foster home. That wasn’t fun.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Randy stood and stretched his legs, then he circled the table to the edge of the patio, looking westward. The parkway continued to a main intersection a quarter mile down. In the moonlight, he made out the dead streetlights and corner signs. More businesses beyond that.
“It’s okay. I’ve moved on. And, I still have my little brother.”
Randy tossed a grin over his shoulder. “That’s great! I don’t remember seeing you with a kid. Has he met Jenny?”
“Sorta. I mean, he’s around.”
“I’m happy for you.” Randy’s gaze drifted westward again, and he put his hands on his hips. “I don’t know what I’d do without Jenny.”
The chair scraped softly. The sound of David getting up.
“She told me how you two got out of Kentland. Crazy story. You could have died a dozen times. Especially when you fought that Krumer dude. What an asshole.”
Randy chuckled darkly, remembering the jailhouse brawl. “That was a doozy. It took everything we had to beat him. That’s why Jenny and I make a great team. Brother and sister wonder duo.”
“It’s a shame. She’s really going to miss you.”
Randy laughed again, then his brows furrowed as he registered what David had said. His ominous tone. The soft scuffling sounds he made. He turned and gulped at the rifle barrel pointed at his belly.
David stood there with his feet spread shoulder width apart, his weapon’s stock resting against his hip, finger settled on the trigger. “Don’t think about moving. I’m pretty good with this thing, and it has a night scope. I can track you if you try to run.”
Randy’s heart kicked up a notch. “Dude, what’s up?”
“I’m doing what I have to do.”
“What do you have to do?”
The moonlight glinted off David’s visor. The whites of his eyes glowed madly from the deep recesses. “My brother, man. I’m doing this for my brother.”
“I still don’t get it.” Randy’s eyes fell on his pistol where it rested on the table. David stood between them.
“Odom has him back at the Colony.” The man’s face twisted as if reliving a bad memory. “Initially, I was a spy for Jergensen. When she died, I tried to return, but Odom made me stay here. He said the only way I could come back and see my brother was to keep spying on John’s people.”
Randy’s brain locked up. “Wait. You mean, Kirk isn’t the spy?”
David shrugged. “He still could be, for all I know. But I was in camp from the beginning, and he came along at the perfect time. Dodger and John suspected someone was sending messages to the Colony, but they didn’t know who.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Then when you came out hard against Kirk, it distracted them. I guess they figured there could be a network of spies. I had to find a way to make everyone think it was anyone but me.”
Randy stared at the tall scout, trying to read his face, judging his chances of dodging before David squeezed the trigger. Then his jaw dropped open. “You attacked me in the storeroom. It was you.”
“Yep.” He grinned down on him. “I didn’t expect you to be so tough, but it only made me realize I needed to be more careful. Don’t worry, I didn’t plan on killing you. I let you live.”
Randy pursed his lips, stomach turning as the ruthlessness of David’s strategy came together in his head. “No, but you wanted Kirk to take the blame for the attack. It might not get you completely out from under suspicion, but it would muddy the waters.”
“That’s right. I just needed to buy one or two more days. Oddly, Jenny gave me the idea.”
“How so?” Randy growled, fists clenched at his sides.
“When you three came in, I jumped at the chance to get to know you. I figured they’d see me fitting in better than ever and throw off any suspicions. What spy would get too close to people in camp, especially if he was about to send them to slaughter?”
“Wait. Slaughter?”
“That’s right. It all ends tonight.” David raised his wrist and checked his watch again.
Randy didn’t know what that meant, but he needed to buy himself some time. “I understand about your brother. Why didn’t you tell John?”
“What could he do?” David asked with a harsh scoff.
“He could have made a deal with Odom.”
“Have you ever met Odom?”
“I have.” Randy frowned, realizing he was right.
“You know what it’s like caring about someone in this world.” David nodded pointedly. “Having a brother or sister, or parents.”
“You depend on each other.” Randy replied. “Sometimes, you’re all you have.”
“That’s right. Now, imagine losing Jenny. She’s such a great girl. The best girlfriend I ever had. I’ve really fallen for her, and we’re so close now. I can’t leave her.”
The idea of the traitor laying with his sister sent a spike of anger up Randy’s spine. He took a step forward, and the rifle barrel ticked up in warning.
He calmed himself, brain and eyes searching for an advantage. He wondered why David hadn’t shot him yet.
“Take it easy.” He stepped back to keep ample distance between them. “At first, I thought I’d screwed up by letting you live the other day. Then Jenny told me something that made me wish I’d done it.”
“What's that?” A sneer worked its way onto Randy’s face.
“She always talked about how tight you two were, be
ing twins. She said you had a special bond that couldn’t be broken. That’s when I knew I had to get rid of you if I wanted Jenny for myself.”
“Some plan. You shoot me out here, and they’ll nail you for it.”
David’s grin spread wide behind his visor, a sinister half face in the shadows. “Not if I did it tonight. It was the only way to keep up my bargain with Odom, win back my little brother, and have Jenny all to myself.”
“You think they’ll believe I got shot out here by Colony forces during a routine patrol?”
“Something like that.”
“You’re the worst.” Randy shook his head.
David pointed the barrel at him like a finger. “That’s not true. I’m not a bad guy. Sometimes life forces you to do unsavory things. You of all people should understand that. One thing leads to another, and suddenly you don’t remember who you are anymore.”
Futility flowed through Randy’s muscles and bones, but he forced himself to calm down. He held up his hands, palms forward. “It’s not too late. We can finish our shift, head back to camp, and sort it out.”
“Too late.”
David stared into the distance at something. Randy took his eyes off him and glanced over his shoulder. A vehicle sat in the middle of the road less than a quarter mile off, idling dark except for its yellow running lights.
He wasn’t an expert, but it looked military. A Humvee or armored transport. Bile rose in Randy’s stomach when a spotlight on top flashed several times in a distinct pattern.
He whipped his head back to David. He held his flashlight in his right hand, shining the beam toward the vehicle, flicking it on and off in response.
Randy’s eyes fell to where he clutched the rifle by its handguard, not the grip. He leaned forward to charge, but David dropped his light with a clatter and re-adjusted his hands, finger resting on the trigger once more.
“Back off!” David shouted, shoulders tensing.
Randy froze and even retreated a step. He almost bolted, but escape wasn’t good enough. His eyes fell to the radio clipped to the scout’s belt. “That’s a Colony vehicle,” he said. “We need to warn them.”
Spore Series | Book 4 | Exist Page 16