The Pulse Effex Series: Box Set

by L. R. Burkard

  Richard held a finger to his lips, so I said nothing. But I was ready to cry! When I’d returned to the bunker, Tex and Angel never answered or came to the door! They hadn’t let me back in! I’d had no choice but to return to Richard.

  “Don’t leave me here!” I heard my father’s stern voice.

  Richard came towards me, so I waited.

  “Why are you back?” he whispered.

  “I heard that!” yelled their father, from up on the ledge. “Who you talking to, Richie? Is that you, Sarah? You still here, baby girl?”

  “Ignore him,” Richard said, turning me back towards the tunnel.

  “Wait,” I whispered. “I couldn’t get in. The door’s locked, and Angel and Tex wouldn’t answer when I knocked!” I could hardly keep from crying.

  Dad’s voice, louder now, accosted us. “You two having a pow-wow? How about having some pity on your old man? Sarah, Richard’s planning on leaving me here to die!”

  “What?” I said.

  “Ignore him!” Richard no longer bothered to whisper. “He’s exaggerating.”

  He took my elbow and urged me into the tunnel but I pulled away and stopped. “What are you gonna do about him? Did you tell him you’d leave him there to die?”

  “No! Look,” Richard said. “I’ll think of something, but he can’t stay here. He just wants to know where we’re staying.”

  “But what’ll he do?” I asked.

  “He’ll go back to his gang or find a new one,” he answered “It’s the life he chose.” We fell into silence, concentrating on taking the twists and turns of the tunnel and moving faster along it than I’d ever done, before. I think we both felt there was a demon at our heels—our dad!

  “Problem is, now he knows we’ve got something down here,” Richard said. He turned to me. “Why did you come? Why’d you leave the bunker? I had him convinced there was nothing but water down here!”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. We could hear the fire raging through the speaker. We heard you in the hallway. I knew you’d brought dad out of the cabin...and I wanted to see him, too.”

  “It’s too bad you didn’t hear when he killed his friend in cold blood—.”

  “We heard shots a few times…I was so scared that you got hurt.” I sniffed. “I guess I thought I might be able to save you if you were hurt up there.”

  “Well, that was foolish!” he cried. Suddenly he stopped walking. “I have to think of what to do about Dad. You go on. I can’t go with you until I know there’s no possibility of him following us.”

  “But they wouldn’t let me in!”

  “Did you tell them you were leaving?”

  I was silent a moment. “No.”

  “Sarah!”

  “YOU left without telling them!”

  “That was me! But why did YOU do it? They trusted you!”

  “They trusted you, too!” I sniffed. “I didn’t want them to talk me out of it. I couldn’t tell them. I was worried about you and I wanted to see Dad.”

  We fell silent. I could feel Richard fuming at me, though.

  “You shouldn’t have done it,” he repeated. “You shouldn’t have left.” He sighed. “Go back. Tell them I will make sure no one can follow.”

  “What if they still won’t let me in?” The very idea filled me with aching regret. Why, why, had I risked my new life—my new family—for the illusion of my old one?

  “If they won’t, we’ll be back where we started from—on our own. But try. Go back. I can’t see them locking you out.” I started crying in earnest. I’d really blown it! We both had. Tex and Angel had brought us to a place of safety and we’d gotten ourselves kicked out.

  “Go on,” Richard said, pushing me gently forward.

  “What are you gonna do with Dad?

  “I’ll get him out of here and stay with him. I’ll get him far away if I can.”

  “Come with me. Ask Tex what to do. He’ll know.”

  Richard studied me for a moment. “I gave him my word that I wouldn’t bring anyone to the bunker.”

  “But you haven’t! He’s injured, right? He can’t reach us!”

  Richard took a breath. “If you hadn’t come, I could’ve gotten him out of here without his ever knowing about you or the bunker.”

  “I said I was sorry!”

  “That’s all? I’m sorry? How about, I was stupid. Or, I wasn’t thinking—as usual.”

  I bit my lip. “Like you were so smart to leave? If you hadn’t insisted on going out for Dad, then I wouldn’t have left, either!”

  “So it’s my fault that you were stupid?”

  “Why are you so angry? I just wanted to see him, too! Why is it okay for you to see him but not for me?”

  “Because I can take care of myself.” But he took a breath and said, “I’m sorry. I just wish you’d stayed home.”

  Home! The bunker was new to us but I realized that for both of us, Tex and Angel were home. It didn’t matter where we lived, whether a cabin, in a barn, or in a bunker. Somehow, we now belonged to them, and they to us. If we hadn’t totally blown it!

  He nudged me to start moving again. “Since you won’t go by yourself, I’m gonna walk you back and then I’ll take care of Dad.”

  I felt relieved he was going back with me. We could apologize to Tex and Angel and beg their forgiveness. Then, we could ask Tex what to do about our father.

  The tunnel seemed endless. The air was thick and heavy. I felt tired, and scared, and inside I was mourning because at heart I suspected Tex and Angel were done with us and would never allow us another chance no matter how much we begged them for it.

  And the truth was, I couldn’t blame them.

  As we neared the end, I said, “You know, he might just leave us to live in peace. We ARE his children.”

  “He won’t. I’ve seen what he’s capable of...” In a softer tone, he added, “He’s a stranger now, Sarah. We have to accept that.”

  I felt suddenly breathless. Panic rose in my chest. “What if they won’t let me in?” Tears filled my voice. “They took us in and their cabin got destroyed. And now, because of us, there’s a threat to their bunker!” I felt a deep hopelessness. “If not for us, they could have lived in safety for months and months!”

  Richard nodded. “That’s why I have to take care of Dad. I have to make sure he can’t come back.”

  “What does that mean, Richard? What are you gonna do?”

  He shook his head. A look of determination filled his eyes. “Whatever I have to.”

  Chapter 47

  SARAH

  I touched Richard’s arm. “Why don’t we pray?”

  From the dimness of Richard’s penlight he stared at me and then nodded. “Why not?”

  It wasn’t a faith-filled response but it was far better than the way my brother used to scoff at my belief in Jesus. I closed my eyes, concentrating. We faced a daunting challenge. No, two challenges; we had to keep our dad from finding the bunker, and we needed Tex and Angel to soften their hearts and let us back in!

  “Lord—.” I began. Richard nudged me.

  “Wait. Listen!” No sooner had the words left his mouth when I heard it. A distant sound, like something else was in the tunnel and it hadn’t come from the direction of the bunker.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  Then, from a long way off, probably from the very beginning of the tunnel, we heard a faint echo. “I made it! I’m down!”

  Richard and I froze, staring at each other. Our father had made it to the bottom of the ladder? With an injured leg? It seemed ludicrous. I had to huddle tightly against that ladder when climbing up or down. I couldn’t imagine an injured man doing that successfully.

  “You think it’s a bluff?” I asked. “How could he have climbed down with his hurt leg?”

  “It’s no bluff,” Richard said. “I’ll bet he used upper arm strength. And a demon’s determination.”

  Don’t set your traps! I’m your father! And I’m coming! />
  Richard blew out a breath. “This proves he’s crazy! He’s injured, he’s moving in complete darkness; and he thinks there’s traps. He’s gotta be nuts to do this!”

  “He’s desperate,” I said. “And what traps, by the way? What were you talking about?” I’d been puzzled about that ever since Richard first mentioned them.

  He frowned at me. “There are no traps! That was a bluff! I wanted him to think he’d never make it if he came after us.”

  He peered behind us into the blackness. “Go on, get out of here. Get back to the bunker. You’re almost there. I’ll take care of Dad.”

  “No, come with me,” I said, flicking on my light. I wasn’t about to keep going on my own in the dark. Ahead of us was one of the many sharp twists in the tunnel. “Dad’s injured; and he’s just one man! If we can’t get in the bunker, he won’t be able to, either!”

  “I can’t let him try,” Richard said. “I promised Tex I wouldn’t lead anyone there. I’m keeping my promise.”

  “But what will you do to stop him?”

  Richard held up his pistol. “I’ll make him turn around.”

  I stared at him in consternation. “Are you really willing to use that? On Dad?” It wasn’t a question as much as an accusation.

  Richard drew in a breath. “Look, it’s not your concern! Go back to safety and don’t worry about me—or Dad.”

  Faintly but louder than before, we heard him. Richie! Sarah! I need your help!

  “He’s moving too fast,” Richard said. “With his injury, he shouldn’t be moving that fast. And all the turns down here—you’d think that would slow him down.”

  “Why did they put so many twists and turns down here, anyway?” I asked.

  “To make it slower going for anyone not familiar with it. And, if you do happen to have a pursuer, they can’t shoot you from far away.” After a pause he added. “Like right now. I’m glad I didn’t give him my penlight.”

  I hated the idea that Richard was turning back to face our father. I really hated the idea that it might end with one of them getting hurt! God forbid!

  “Be careful!” On an impulse I gave him a hug. It felt easier and easier for me to show affection to my brother. That was one thing the pulse taught us—how to love one another. He hugged me back and murmured, “Tell them you’re sorry. Tex and Angel love you—they’ll let you back in.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know if they will.” He gently pushed us apart.

  “They will.” He flicked off his light. “I’ll go back a little ways and wait for him to reach me. IF he can.” As I went ahead, I turned to look back at him. His outline was already swallowed up in blackness.

  “God protect you!” I whispered, loudly.

  “You, too.” His words came floating from the darkness. I continued on towards the bunker but my heart was crushed. I’d been so stubborn and ungrateful to Angel and Tex. Why hadn’t I just prayed for Richard and my father—and waited? I’d heard my dad’s voice and I couldn’t erase the desire to see him. Now I’d seen him, alright—and wished I hadn’t!

  I’d wanted him to be my good father, the one who’d take care of us, just like the old days. I wanted him to say it would be alright and that the pulse hadn’t ruined life forever.

  I guess what I really wanted was a chance to go back into the past. If I had a caring dad, it would remind me of life before, when we weren’t worried about where our next meal would come from, when life wasn’t so black.

  Even more, in my heart I longed to live in a normal world again. Go to school, watch TV, and talk to my friends on a cellphone. It was a reckless impossible longing that made me leave the bunker. I saw that now. Even if my dad was his old self, he couldn’t erase what happened to the world!

  I’d hoped he would make everything okay. And somehow all he’d done was make everything worse. Now he and Richard and I were stuck in this subterranean limbo-land—not as dangerous as life on the road, but not a life at all!

  I rounded a final bend and came face to face with the outer steel of the thick door of the bunker. Unless Tex and Angel opened that door, Richard and I were on our own again—only this time with a madman on our heels.

  Chapter 48

  ANDREA

  As I write, Roper is in an open shed building the “package” (as Mr. Simmons calls it). We hope it will destroy the bridge over the culvert. I am fasting and praying for him. Why? Jared is dying—from just ONE of those initiators! Roper is mixing them all together—I can’t stand to think about it! If one could kill a man? I can just imagine my sweet, beautiful guy getting blown to bits by what he’s doing!

  He is such a peace-loving, easy-going person. Why does HE have to be the one to do the dirty work? This morning I was getting ready to mop the kitchen floor and I asked Mr. Martin that question when he was going past. All he would say is that Roper had the most experience handling the explosives than anyone else except Jared.

  “He’s a worship leader!” I said. “He was an intern for children’s ministry! Not a-a—.”

  “A munitions expert?” he prodded.

  “Right! He’s not a munitions expert!”

  “He’s the closest thing we’ve got.” Mr. Martin touched my arm. “We’re all praying for him. Try not to worry.” As he walked away he turned back to look at me. “Council meeting tonight. Don’t miss it.”

  LATER

  Glory to God! Roper and Mr. Simmons went back out today and planted the “package” beneath the culvert—and it worked! We all heard a giant boom when the bridge blew. Everyone stopped what they were doing and gave a great big cheer! The men returned and said

  it worked like a charm, breaking the bridge abruptly in the middle. They’re confident it’s impassable! We went, in a long procession—all except Jolene, Jared’s mom, who is sitting with her son in sickbay—to view the damage. Even the children were allowed to come because we surrounded them and were armed to the teeth. That is, the men, the lookouts, and we women. (Blake seemed to move a little slower than in the past but I wouldn’t mention that to Lexie for the world. Besides, I could be wrong about that.)

  Anyway—what a beautiful sight! There was still dust and smoke settling on the fallen blocks of asphalt and concrete which had landed in various places in the stream and the surrounding banks. The road itself ended in a jagged edge, like a scar after an injury.

  It looked wonderful. Mrs. Wasserman pointed out the destruction to her children like she was showing them an ice cream truck. “We can’t be attacked from this direction now, children,” she said.

  But Mrs. Philpot shook her head. “We just made our world a little bit uglier than it already was.”

  Roper replied, “And a whole lot safer.”

  She stared at him. “Maybe.”

  Anyway, today Roper is everyone’s hero. (Of course, he’s my hero every day.)

  EVENING

  So we had a council meeting. I dread these meetings because scary stuff always comes up but at least Roper and I got to sit together with baby Hope—like we’re a family.

  Mr. Simmons was so annoying. Honestly, he seemed to be channeling Jared again.

  “Little good it’s gonna do to have that bridge out on our east,” he said, “when we still got a perfectly good road on the west. Any army truck—or tank—can just go around to the other side to come at us.”

  “One thing at a time,” said Mr. Martin. “Taking that bridge out was necessary. Now we can focus on taking further measures.”

  “We must get more chemicals to tear up the road to the west,” said Mr. Simmons. “It won’t be enough to stop a tank, but it should deter those army trucks.”

  “How are you suggesting we ‘tear up’ the road?” asked Mr. Buchanan.

  Mr. Simmons spread out his hands. “Jared explained it to me; all we have to do is burn out a few holes and then plant a package in the holes. We cover the holes up again, put a pressure plate on there and then all you need is the right pressure—say, an army truck�
�and boom!”

  “You said, ‘burn’ a few holes,” said Mr. Philpot. “How do you burn holes in blacktop?”

  “It’ll melt with enough heat,” said Mr. Simmons. “Just need some fire.”

  “If it won’t stop tanks, why bother?” asked Mrs. Wasserman. “They’re the new threat, right? It sounds like a lot of dangerous work, and if they have tanks—.”

  “And mortars,” put in her husband. “We don’t stand a chance. Those tanks’ll roll over a busted up road like ice skates in a rink; and if they have mortars—.”

  “Wait,” said Mr. Martin, holding up his hands. “Most of the sightings are of army trucks—not tanks. Just standard army trucks. So we’re talking about men, artillery—.”

  “RPG’s,” added Blake.

  “Yup, RPGs.” Mr. Simmons nodded. “And maybe grenades, maybe even some mortars.”

  “But mostly it’s men, rifles and machine guns we have to worry about,” insisted Mr. Martin. “And these are things a busted up road CAN deter. I don’t think they’ll come at us on foot. As Jared said in our last meeting, we’re not an important target in a military sense.” He swept his gaze across the room. “And we do have obstacles and mines out front. I don’t think they’ll want to bother with us.”

  “Okay, we’ve got obstacles out front but not on the sides of the property, and no barbed wire—and how many mines?” Mr. Simmons asked.

  “Three,” said Mr. Martin.

  “We need more!” he snapped. “Rest assured they will have us out-numbered when it comes to artillery AND manpower. And we need fortifications on the sides—mines, at least—so that if the enemy does advance, they’ll stay in a kill zone—right in front of us. If we can ensure that they enter there and be ready to hit ‘em with everything we’ve got when they do, we should be able to deflect an attack.”

  Lexie spoke up. “You mean putting mines by the woods line?”

  “That’s how we come and go,” Roper said. “You can’t cut off all access.”

  “If we leave the sides unprotected and they come at us from the woods on foot—and they can do that in a mile-long formation—we wouldn’t have a chance,” said Mr. Simmons.