Endurance: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Highway Book 2)

by ML Banner

  He withdrew his hand and just stared at her.

  For a moment he let his thoughts of her linger; his heart longed for her. He had yearned to be with her for a long time. One day, he had hoped to wake up next to her. To see her like she was now, but know that she was his. As if responding to him, she softly murmured something, her lips lightly trying to speak from a dream.

  He shook himself awake from his woolgathering.

  He wished it were a different time and place. But it wasn’t. He knew they would never be together. He wasn’t the type of man she would ever have been attracted to even before all this. And when who he really was and what he’d done came out she would certainly hate him even more. They all would. Maybe this was his penance for a life wasted pursuing his own wealth and not paying attention to what he already had.

  He took one last look and wondered if this would be his final memory of her. It wasn’t a bad way to remember her: beautifully at peace.

  Jonah spun on his heel and walked out, leaving her and the Center behind.

  “Mr. Price?” a commanding voice called out behind him.

  Jonah was generally unflappable, fearing few things. But the sound of his name caused a nervous shudder throughout his body. He turned to face the monster of his making.

  But it wasn’t who he thought it was. It was Sergeant Reynolds and PFC O’Malley, who must have been looking for him too.

  “I’m glad to see you men. I need your help.”

  Chapter 29

  Endurance, Florida

  Jonah

  After six days without power, and people having gotten accustomed to most things mechanical not functioning, the sound of one car was as novel as it was when the automobile was first invented. When the convoy of US Army trucks thundered into Endurance, many who watched them roll by scrutinized them in stunned silence, almost with skepticism, as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Their jubilance at seeing help was certainly more tempered than it was in most towns.

  Endurance was perhaps unique in that it was doing better than elsewhere in America. Many of its residents were already prepared for hurricanes, having enough supplies to last a few weeks. And those who didn’t had Jonah Price to help them out. The belief that circulated around Endurance was that they were on their own and that life would become more difficult in coming weeks. Many had heard the call and were buckling down for the worst. So the last group Endurance’s residents expected to see, after less than a week, was the US military.

  Still, just like other towns that were experiencing this—many around the same time—they were drawn out of their homes like moths to a flame.

  Jonah didn’t even hear their arrival as he ducked from building to building, trying not to be seen. He arrived at 280 Liberty Street late, hopeful that at least some of those he asked would be there. It was one of his in-town office/warehouses. This one he kept off the books, owning it through a Delaware LLC that didn’t report its ownership publically. The secrecy was necessary for some of the more questionable merchandise he trafficked. Only a few people knew about it, the men he really trusted. No one else was told about this place. He hoped that while Cain was busy trying to steal from him, this would be one of the places he didn’t know about, along with where he hid Ramadi’s guns.

  Walters was in the shadows, guarding the side door entrance to the room where they were all meeting. Jonah warmly gripped his hand. “Thanks for having my back.”

  “Jonah, you know you’re the most wanted man in this town?”

  “Yep, my illegitimate shit-for-brains son thinks he has me backed into a corner.”

  “Well, he sort of does, since you’re the one hiding in the shadows. Cain has got all of his sycophants scouring everywhere for you and the guns.”

  “I know, but we still have a few tricks up our sleeves, don’t we?” Jonah grinned.

  “That we do. And he still thinks that I’m with him. So after you break up this little shindig, I’ll have to get away and pretend I’m searching for you.”

  “No problem. This shouldn’t take too long. If you have to leave early, just make sure you make it to the appointed time and place.”

  “Will do, boss.” Walters smiled back and released his grip. His shoulders straightened and he stood at attention, letting Jonah know he was on board.

  Jonah continued grinning until he entered the room.

  It was a small meeting room, like the office, partitioned off from the warehouse but sharing one vast ceiling twenty feet above them. A random collection of thirty chairs were filled and facing a podium.

  Their anxious heads snapped back to see who had come in.

  As Jonah walked through them, he could see everyone he had asked was here, and a few more he didn’t invite, including Emily.

  When he stood by her chair, he asked, “What are you doing here?” He was filled with a flood of mixed emotions.

  She rose to greet him, wearing only the weakest hint of a smile. “You said to others that it concerned the safety of Endurance. This is my town too.” Her tone was not entirely friendly.

  He knew it would only get worse when he was done.

  “I didn’t tell you because I also said that this would be very dangerous.”

  “What can I say, danger is my middle name,” she said and sat down, facing the front of the room.

  Jonah shook his emotions off and stepped to the podium, facing his townspeople. He considered his words and spoke in an even, almost unemotional tone.

  “About two years ago, a foreign businessman approached me to rent my largest warehouse north of here at Sunbay Cove. I was desperate at the time and didn’t ask questions. I needed the money, or I would have probably gone bankrupt. I have come to find out that that man is an imam and one of the leaders of the terrorist movement that brought down our country on July 4th with nuclear explosions and, only two days ago, killed probably hundreds of thousands of our military with sarin gas.”

  The room was filled with gasps and angry whispers.

  “Further, I found out that my warehouse was being used for the next stage of their plan, the full-out invasion of our country. Since my warehouse appears to be a staging area, I suspect Endurance would be an early target—”

  “What’d you get for screwing your country?” said an understandably very angry sheriff, who lost his son to the gas attack.

  “Rory, at this point what they promised me is unimportant. Here’s why I asked most of you here. When I realized what was coming next, I stole from Imam Ramadi the guns and ammunition that he had obviously planned to use to kill more Americans. Without these guns, he’s effectively neutered.”

  “That doesn’t excuse what you’ve done.” Rory pointed a finger at him, tears streaming down his face.

  “Look, I’m not asking for your forgiveness. Yes, I was a willing accomplice in all of this because all I cared about was the money. And so I willingly aided these monsters and looked away while receiving my Judas ransom. I’m probably damned to hell for what I’ve done. But that’s on me. This thing is much larger than me or any of you. And believe it or not, I still care about this town; I guess I always have, even though I’ve been a selfish bastard all of my life. I want to do what’s right for this town, and I want all of you to survive this. But we need to work together to accomplish this.”

  “You want us to trust you now?” asked Sheila, the pretty base commander’s wife—she’d found out yesterday that her husband had died on the base from the gas attack.

  “No, trust yourselves and each other. I’m just trying in a small way to make things right. I would ask you to pay attention to two heroes in our midst: men who risked their lives to pull out four others from the Army base, Sergeant Reynolds and PFC O’Malley.” Jonah shrank away to the side of the room where the sergeant and private stood unmoving.

  A few hands clapped, including two of the Army servicemen they had saved from the base. Most were still in shock over what they’d just heard.

  “Thank you,”
Reynolds said. “Mr. Price told us everything that happened and asked us to lead the effort to defend Endurance. PFC O’Malley and I are going to go over our plan for all of us to fight against the Islamic invaders. Then we’ll teach you how to use one of these Russian-made fully automatic rifles.” He held up the one slung around his neck. “Because when we meet again in a few minutes, you’ll each be handed one of said Russian-made rifles, courtesy of the same assholes who attacked our country.

  “Hopefully, together we’ll be able to save this town and send some of these goddamned terrorists to hell where they came from.”

  O’Malley and the two other Army soldiers from the base yelled, “Hooah!” The civilians in the room remained mostly quiet, although a few, like Sheila, cheered. All were fearful of what was coming next.

  ~~~

  Walters

  Just before Walters was about to leave, afraid his lack of presence with Cain and his men might be noticed, he saw Cain coming his way. Walters didn’t miss a beat. He thumped the door multiple times instead of the normal signal of two thumps, which told the person monitoring it to bolt it because someone was coming. He waited but didn’t hear the click-clink sound that meant the door was secured. He couldn’t risk being too obvious, because Cain could now see him. He had to think of something quick, or hopefully, the monitor would check out the door’s peephole before they were surrounded.

  That’s it! he thought. He’d let Cain warn them.

  Walters waved and then ran over to Cain like he was glad to see him.

  “Good, you got my message,” Walters said enthusiastically. He eyeballed all the men Cain brought with him, who were now watching him. He was glad to see Peter was not among them.

  “What? What message? We’re here searching every place Jonah might be hiding. This was next on the list.”

  Walters knew how Cain operated, but he still took a chance with what he said next, hoping it would help Jonah, not hurt him or the others. At the same time, Walters wanted to strengthen his own position with Cain. He might need the bargaining power.

  “The message I left was that I think Jonah might be here,” he said several decibels louder than normal.

  “Jonah, here?” Cain almost begged. He turned to his men and yelled with his shrill voice, “Surround the building.”

  He really isn’t too bright, Walters thought to himself, trying not to let his grin show.

  One man stayed with Cain, handing him a bullhorn. The others raced around the building like cockroaches exposed to light.

  Cain waited impatiently for them to be in position.

  ~~~

  Jonah

  “So if anything goes wrong, you know where to meet,” Reynolds finished.

  The group nodded, but not equally. Some did so strongly and certain while others did so more meekly and unsure.

  “Okay, they’re ready,” O’Malley told Jonah.

  Jonah looked at everyone in the room. They weren’t soldiers, but all had agreed to fight. He couldn’t have been more proud of them. Many of them had nothing, now depending on his and others’ handouts, but all were willing to risk their lives to protect their town, his town.

  “All right …” Jonah started, but abruptly looked up. “That sounded like Cain. Check the door.”

  The man who was supposed to be on watch at the door slapped his head, acknowledging his mistake, and ran back to his position. He peered out the peephole and then to the group, wide-eyed. “There’s a bunch of men surrounding the building.”

  Reynolds whispered, “I assume there’s another way out?”

  O’Malley was already looking. “I think I found a way up and out.” He shimmied up a small ladder, which led to the roof above.

  “The private found the entry to the roof. There’s also an exit through the warehouse and out the back.”

  “All right O’Malley, I’m right behind you. We’ll lay down cover fire, drawing their attention to the two sides and front of the building.”

  O’Malley nodded.

  “You all get out the back,” he told the group, now heading up the ladder. O’Malley was already up on the roof, holding the hatch open. “Wait until you hear the shooting before you run for it. Good luck,” he whispered as he slunk up through the hatch.

  A loud squeal and a crackle of feedback blared outside the meeting room, followed by his son’s shrill voice, “Jonah? Are you in there?”

  Jonah’s head shot up again in surprise. He couldn’t believe his stupid son found out about this place, then found him. But then he remembered that Peter knew about this place too. At that moment, he knew for sure that Peter had joined forces with his son.

  Reynolds’s and O’Malley’s boots thumped overhead across the roof to opposite corners.

  “Come on.” Jonah beckoned. “Follow me.” He switched on a mini Maglite he now carried everywhere and led them into the warehouse and then quickly through its clutter to a far door. The group followed him, occasionally bumping into one of the obstacles while others in the group shushed the offending klutz.

  He heard the muffled sounds of another bullhorn announcement, Cain’s high-pitched voice more numbing and unintelligible than he remembered.

  Just before they reached the door, the shooting started.

  “Go!” Jonah huffed while he twisted the door handle, unlatched the deadbolt and threw it open. His Maglite flicked off so as not to draw attention. The new recruits of the Endurance militia streamed out the door and ran for the woods.

  Jonah remained at the door and ushered each member through, offering, “See you at the meet-up point,” to each.

  The last of their group at the door was Emily. She paused before exiting and gazed at him. He couldn’t really see her eyes in the darkness, but he felt them. Then, agreeably, she pressed her lips to his for just a moment. “You did the right thing. I’m proud of you.” And she burst out the door, dashing for freedom.

  Time seemed to stop for him, but it also seemed to for Emily and others, as they weren’t moving.

  “Freeze!” commanded Cain through his bullhorn.

  Jonah’s realizations hit him all at once: their cover fire had stopped, Cain was uninjured, and several of them were caught.

  He poked his head out the door and saw that besides Emily, Sheila and at least five others were among those who wouldn’t make it out. Maybe the others got away. He threw his rifle on the ground and thrust his hands into the air.

  “Father, so glad to see you’re safe,” Cain said arrogantly. “Mr. Ramadi asked that we not harm you so he could talk to you himself, before he shoots you.”

  Chapter 30

  Meritville, Alabama

  Wilber Merit sauntered up to the two Army officers. He was armed for war, at least he hoped so.

  He laid his Browning Automatic Rifle or BAR on one table and a can each of .30-06 and .45 ammo on a separate table with the others.

  The gun table was filled with countless rifles, shotguns, and pistols of every variety. The ammo table must have had ten thousand various caliber rounds. A lieutenant held out a clipboard and said in a gruff voice, “Your name and address here, list what you brought here, and sign here.”

  Wilber grabbed it, scratched the requested information and handed it back to him. “I miss much?”

  “Hasn’t started yet,” the sergeant said.

  When Wilber entered, all heads turned to look at him. A few men mumbled sarcastic comments—they’d dare not say what they wanted to his face. The others turned back to face the podium. Two of his own—both Merits—sitting up front rose and offered their seats to him. Wilber chose the seat in the front corner of the room.

  “Wilber,” said a heavyset man in the back everyone knew to be Meryl Boykin.

  “Meryl,” Wilber responded, without looking at his adversary.

  “You bring that antique museum piece with you?” Meryl asked.

  “That museum piece is fully automatic and it won the Big One. It’s kicked Nazi ass and Jap ass; figured it was time to
kick some Islamic ass.” A few men mumbled affirmations. “You bring that peashooter of yours?”

  “That peashooter or at least something similar to it, has kicked Islamic ass throughout the Middle East. It will do the same in America.”

  “At least we’re here for the same thing,” Wilber said.

  “Just don’t expect me to kiss and make up after we kick Haji’s butt back to Syria.”

  “Speaking of which, where are our US Army friends?”

  As if on cue, a high-ranking officer stepped onto the elevated podium. He looked like he was doing some mental calculations before speaking. “Is this all the men and all the weapons of this town?”

  Several of the men in the audience turned in their seats to examine the room. Each wondered why the thirty or so men and all their guns and ammo weren’t enough for the US Army.

  “So what did you expect, Captain?” Meryl asked, not trying to be a smart-ass, but genuinely wondering why this wasn’t a good amount for such a small town.

  “My name is Captain Smith. We just wanted to make sure that we didn’t forget someone.”

  “When are we going to kill some gosh-darned terrorists, Captain?” asked Meryl, spitting a brown wad of tobacco into a paper cup.

  “Hold on, please,” the captain said, and then stepped back behind the curtains.

  A young man rose from his chair. “C’mon already, how long do we wait?” He was one of the younger Merits.

  “As long as I say,” bellowed Wilber.

  Wilber’s young cousin sat down.

  Four men dressed in US Army uniforms stepped from behind the curtains and stood before and above them.

  For a moment, it felt to Wilber like they were going to perform some sort of musical arrangement with their AK-103s.

  It was then that Wilber realized what had bugged him all along about this offer. He wondered why the US Army would ask the men to bring their weaponry to a meeting. And why the US Army would even need their help. It felt funny giving up his rifle to begin with. But then he knew the answer when he saw the AKs, still brand-new looking.