Mason and Leila carefully stepped through the minefield of broken glass and twisted sheet metal. In a world with limited access to medical care, an infected cut could be a death sentence. Bowie had his nose stuck in one of the cars that was lying upside down, and they squatted beside him to take a look inside.
The lifeless bodies of a woman and her teenage son dangled from their seatbelts, bones poking through punctured flesh and blood pooling on the headliner of the car.
“Poor souls,” Leila said in a heavy voice. “They survived the pandemic only to be killed weeks later by something as unlikely as a nuclear blast. It’s not fair.”
Mason said nothing. Questions about what was fair or unfair seemed irrelevant. Life put forward challenges, and it was up to the individual to adapt and survive. He’d gotten that much from his father.
Leila slid the camera off her shoulder and snapped a few photos of the unlucky pair.
“I know it must seem terribly morbid, but the human suffering has to be documented.”
Mason stood back up. “I hope you have plenty of film because, believe me, this is just the beginning.”
“Now that you mention it, I could use a spare memory card.”
“And the battery? How do you plan to recharge that?”
She patted her backpack. “Solar charger. I found it in a sporting goods store. The whole thing rolls up like a small rug, and it only take a few hours to fully recharge the battery.”
“Pretty clever.”
She shrugged. “I’m finding my way.”
They continued ahead with Bowie taking point. The four-lane road quickly became congested with cars, many of them flipped onto their sides or smashed into one another. The bright yellow sign for a Super-8 motel towered off to the right, and a Lowe’s Home Improvement store sat to their left. One entire wall of the Lowe’s had collapsed, and an assortment of light bulbs, plumbing fixtures, paint cans, and lumber lay spread across the parking lot. The motel had fared a bit better with only shattered windows and parts of its roof missing.
Mason shielded his eyes from the sun and surveyed the city ahead. Hotels and restaurants lined the street for the next few blocks. Beyond that lay a small mousetrap where Winchester Road crossed over the city’s bypass. It was impossible to see much farther than that because the clean structural lines once provided by buildings had been replaced by indistinguishable mounds of rubble.
Seeing him staring off into the city, Leila asked, “What makes you so sure that Lenny’s downtown?”
“Call it a hunch. I’ve spent much of my life finding people who didn’t want to be found, and it usually involves understanding their needs.”
“And how exactly would you know Lenny’s needs?”
“He was trying to build a kingdom, right?”
“I suppose.”
“And what does every kingdom need?”
She thought for a moment, and then a smile came to her lips.
“A castle.”
“Exactly. And the closest thing to a castle around here would be one of the office buildings downtown.”
“Still, that leaves a lot—”
She stopped when she saw him turn to scan the horizon.
“What is it?”
While Mason couldn’t yet see anything, he detected a faint thumping sound in the air. Without saying a word, he grabbed Leila’s arm and pulled her behind a nearby minivan.
“What is it?” she repeated.
He pointed to two black helicopters approaching from the east.
“Trouble.”
“It’s probably the military out surveying the damage. We might be able to catch a ride in.” She started to stand up and wave her arms.
Mason pulled her back behind cover.
“They’re not here to help.”
She turned to him with a confused look on her face.
“How would you know that?”
Mason watched as the helicopters came closer. If they didn’t change their current flight path, they would fly directly over his and Leila’s position.
“Who do you think did this?” he asked.
“I assumed it was some kind of accident. What else could it be?”
He shook his head. “This was no accident. It was a military strike, intentional and with purpose.”
“What purpose? What are you talking about?”
Before he could answer, Bowie appeared from around the other end of the van.
“Come here, boy,” Mason said, waving him over.
The dog sauntered over and flopped down between them.
The sound of the helicopters grew louder, and the air around them began to vibrate. As the aircraft approached, Mason saw that they were not typical military issue. They had a large rear ring tail propeller and two small lifting wings that extended from either side. A gunner leaned out from the open door of the closest helicopter, his face streaked in black paint.
Catching sight of them, Bowie growled and struggled to get to his feet.
“Easy boy,” Mason said, holding him down. “This isn’t the time for a fight.”
Bowie settled back down but used the opportunity to inch his way onto Mason’s lap. The dog was so big that his head and front paws hung off one side, and his hind legs hung off the other. Mason couldn’t help but laugh. Like many large canines, Bowie fancied himself a bit of a lap dog.
Leila pulled her camera free and discreetly snapped pictures as the helicopters passed overhead.
Trying to talk over the noise, she said, “What kind of helicopters are those?”
“You ever heard of the X-49 SpeedHawk?”
She shook her head.
“They’re prototypes,” he explained, “designed to outfly the UH-60 Blackhawk in just about every way possible.” Mason had seen photos of the experimental helicopters but hadn’t been aware that they’d ever been fielded.
When the air finally quieted around them, Leila turned to him.
“You know something about this. Something you haven’t told me.” Even though her words were direct, her tone was soft, suggesting she understood that he owed her nothing.
Mason stared off at the helicopters, weighing how much of the story to share. Most of what he knew was circumstantial, pieces forced together to form a puzzle that remained incomplete. Still, it was better that someone else knew. Leila was resourceful and in search of answers herself. If something were to happen to him, she might well continue his quest to expose the perpetrators.
“I believe the blast was meant to kill Lenny Bruce.”
She studied him. “Why would anyone launch a nuclear missile to kill one man?”
“He was involved in a plot to overthrow President Glass.”
“Even so, our government wouldn’t destroy an entire city to kill one terrorist.”
“You don’t understand. This wasn’t about killing a terrorist. It was about quieting a co-conspirator.”
“What are you saying? That people in the government were involved in planning a coup?”
“More like they were working to disrupt the country’s recovery, hoping that the discontent would drive a change in leadership.”
“And Lenny was to be an instrument of that discontent?”
“Exactly.”
“Even if that’s true, they couldn’t have ordered an attack like this. You’d have to have the president’s signature—” She stopped and stared at him. “President Pike? He’s behind this? Are you sure?”
“No,” he said flatly. “I’m not sure. But I am certain that General Hood, who I’ve been told is Pike’s right-hand man, was responsible for the murder of hundreds of US marshals.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “What do marshals have to do with any of this?”
“Hood hired a band of mercenaries to kill the marshals in an attempt to get his hands on weapons stored at a law enforcement training center. Those weapons were then to be delivered to Lenny Bruce as part of a plan to remove President Glass.”
/> “How could you possibly know all this?”
“The lead mercenary told me of the plan.”
“And were the weapons ever delivered?”
“No. Bowie and I stopped them.” He reached down and scratched behind Bowie’s ears, and when he did, the dog’s hind leg began to bounce up and down.
“One man and his dog stopped a whole group of mercenaries?”
“What can I say? We can be pretty industrious.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, thinking.
“What post does General Hood hold?”
“I’ve been told he’s in charge of Special Operations.” Mason turned to look in the direction of the helicopters. “The kind of position that would give him access to prototype military hardware.”
“Do you have any proof? Something that would stand up in court?”
“There are no courts, Leila.”
“You know what I mean. Is there any hard evidence to follow?”
Mason shook his head. “Not really. What I have is the word of the mercenary hired to deliver the weapons and the confession of one of Hood’s operatives.”
“That’s not much.”
“It’s enough for me.”
“How do you know that these men weren’t lying?”
“Let me ask you something. If you knew you had only a few seconds to live, would you bother lying?”
“I suppose not. There’d be no reason to.”
“Then these men weren’t lying.”
She looked into his eyes.
“You killed them?”
“Let’s just say I encouraged both men to go for their pistols.”
“Like in some kind of old-fashioned gunfight?”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an old-fashioned gunfighter.”
Chapter 8
Squatting beside to the stream, Tanner squeezed out the wet rag and handed it up to Samantha.
“Really, it’s not so bad,” he said, covering a smile. “You’ve almost got it all off.”
She used the rag to wipe the last bit of mucus from her shirt.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Think about how special you are. How many people have ever had an elephant blow its nose on them?”
“It’s not funny.”
“Are you kidding me?” He stood up and gave her a hug. “It’s hilarious.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
“It was also one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen. How could an elephant even be in this park?”
“Don’t forget the bighorn sheep and whatever killed it too,” she said, tossing away the rag.
“This place is like the Island of Doctor Moreau.”
“Do they have nose-blowing elephants on his island too?”
“It’s filled with them,” he said with a smile. “The only explanation is that some of the animals escaped from the city zoo and made their way here.”
“The zoo?”
“You got a better idea?”
“No, but what does that mean? Should we turn around and go back?”
The answer wasn’t obvious to him either. They were nearly halfway through the park, and going back presented almost as much danger as going forward. While they didn’t know what lay ahead, they did know that something with very sharp teeth inhabited the trees behind them.
“Let’s push on to Canal Road and be rid of this place.”
“On one condition,” she said, holding up a finger. “No more elephants.”
“Fair enough. Next time we encounter a giant African elephant, I’ll be the one to make friends.”
With the decision made, they gathered their gear and continued down the trail. Having dispelled the notion of the forest being infested with dinosaurs made the hike a little less stressful—but only a little.
“There could be anything out here,” she said, staring off into the dark woods.
“I wouldn’t worry too much. Most zoo animals would run away if they saw us coming.”
“Because you’re scarier than Bigfoot?”
“A fact that I am quite proud of,” he said, grinning. “Still, it’s probably a good idea to make a little noise to keep from walking up on something unannounced.”
“Can I whistle?”
“I don’t know, can you?”
Samantha began to whistle, and the tune was surprisingly rich and complex.
He looked over at her and nodded.
“Not bad.”
“Whistling is one of the few things I’m good at.”
“Sam, despite what you may think, you’re good at all kinds of things.”
“Like what?”
“How many kids your age can drive a car?”
“Not many, I guess.”
“Or shoot an apple off a man’s head?”
“I’ve never done that.”
“But you could.”
“Will you let me try?”
“No.”
She shrugged and went back to whistling. They hiked for another ten minutes without seeing anything more exotic than a few squirrels jumping between trees. The trail narrowed even further as it came to a dark tunnel cutting through a rocky hillside. The cavern was a good two hundred feet long, but they could see light shining in from the other end.
Samantha dug out her flashlight and shined it into the tunnel. The dark stone walls and floor glistened with moisture.
“Everything’s wet in there.”
Tanner gripped his shotgun. “I’ll take the lead. You shine the light on the ground about ten feet in front of me.”
“All right,” she said, lowering the beam and sweeping it across the ground.
Tanner started into the tunnel, and Samantha stayed close behind, leaning around to shine the flashlight. The air was damp, and they could hear water trickling through the walls. Their feet made a wet squishing sound as they padded across a light layer of mud covering the rocky floor.
“This is cool,” she said, her voice echoing down the tunnel.
“You’re not afraid?”
“Why should I be? It’s not like that big tunnel we walked through before. This one—”
They both stopped as something rustled ahead of them.
“You were saying?” he growled.
She scanned the walls and floor with the flashlight. They were both clear. It was only when she flicked the light across the ceiling that they spotted the source of the noise. Nesting in the wet rock were hundreds of small brown bats. A few shifted around to get out of the bright shine of her flashlight.
Tanner immediately started forward.
She grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”
“What?”
“The bats!” she said, shining the light on them.
“And?”
“They might bite us.”
“Nah, bats are harmless. If you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you.”
Samantha was in no way convinced.
“What if they’re… you know, vampire bats?”
“They’re not.”
“How can you be sure?”
“No capes.”
Without waiting for the joke to set in, Tanner walked ahead, crunching small mounds of bat guano beneath his boots. When he got directly beneath the bats, he stopped and looked back at her.
“See. They’re harmless.”
Before Samantha could make up her mind one way or the other, a dark shape slid in through the cave’s entrance behind her. It was long and squat, with short legs and a thick tail.
“Sam, behind you!”
She spun around, whipping the flashlight in its direction. When she saw the shine of its wicked green eyes coming toward her, Samantha fumbled the flashlight, and it fell to the floor.
As she bent to reach for it, Tanner shouted, “Leave it!”
She turned and bolted toward him. It took Tanner only a moment to realize that they wouldn’t both make it all the way through the tunnel before the creature caught the
m. Samantha must have come to the same realization because as she approached him, she started to slow.
“Go! Go! Go!” he shouted, bringing his shotgun up.
She sprinted ahead, letting fear provide the necessary juice to her arms and legs.
The flashlight rolled to the closest wall and stopped, barely casting enough light for Tanner to see the creature skittering toward him. In some ways, the beast resembled a crocodile, short and thick with a long neck and tail. But with every step, it flared its legs out to the side so that it could drag the backs of its huge claws across the stone floor. Tanner wasn’t sure if it did it to keep from stumbling, or just to look scary as all hell.
He leveled the shotgun and fired. Boom! The blast was deafening in the narrow tunnel, and it sent hundreds of bats into the air. They fluttered against him with leathery wings and sharp barbs, clicking in fear. He squinted to protect his eyes as he dropped the shotgun back on target. Bats darted all around the dark tunnel, and he could make out only brief snippets of the creature racing toward him.
He fired again. Boom! The ear-shattering blast sparked more flapping and jabs from the frightened bats.
“Tanner!” shouted Samantha. “Should I come and help?”
“No!”
He didn’t dare turn to look at her. Bats were fluttering in every direction, and the creature had scuttled out of the light. Two shots fired, and he wasn’t sure that either had drawn blood. Tanner waited, working to quiet his heart as he swept the shotgun from side to side.
For ten long seconds, nothing happened. Had he hit it after all?
Without warning, the beast lunged from the darkness. Tanner started to backpedal, blindly firing the shotgun at the ground in front of him. It grabbed the edge of his boot and shook hard. He stumbled and nearly fell, desperately trying to kick it away. The sole of his boot started to pull free, and the creature lurched forward hoping to get something meatier to hang onto. Tanner shoved the shotgun toward it and fired one-handed. The gun bucked into the air, nearly striking the ceiling overhead.
The creature released his foot, and Tanner shuffled back a few more steps, his heart pounding. He swept the gun back and forth, straining to hear the scraping of the monster’s fearsome claws. It was then that he realized that the ringing in his ears was so bad that he wouldn’t have heard the beast even if it had tap danced up to him. He shook his head from side to side, hoping that it might help.
Battle Lines (The Survivalist Book 5) Page 7