The Razor's Edge: A Postapocalytic Novel (The New World Book 6)

by G. Michael Hopf

  Big Mike stopped just a few feet inside and listened.

  “Where are you?” Lexi grumbled. Why is it taking so long for him to arrive? she thought. Had he called others to come? If so, Nicholas knew to engage them.

  Big Mike knew she was still in there, but where? He slowly and silently began searching.

  Lexi herself was listening at the door. Maybe the person was in there or maybe he wasn’t. She took a deep breath to calm herself down and leaned even closer to the door.

  With each space searched, Big Mike now stood outside the door to the back room. This was the last place she could be. He clenched his fingers around the knife and kicked in the door.

  The door exploded inward, hitting Lexi in the face and sending her flying back. She tripped over a chair and spilled onto the floor.

  Big Mike barged in, a broad smile on his face. “Come here.”

  Lexi looked up, her head spinning. “Holy shit, you’re big.”

  With his left hand, Big Mike grabbed Lexi by her throat and pulled her off the floor and held her up.

  She grabbed at his hand, but his grip was tight around her small throat.

  He gripped tighter.

  The choke hold was becoming unbearable for her. Her feet dangled just above the floor. The only thing she could do was grab one of her knives. She reached back, ripped one from the sheath and swung around.

  Big Mike blocked her swing and with his right arm and with one single blow knocked the knife from her hand.

  The blade fell to the floor with a clang.

  Lexi could feel the dizziness coming. His grip was tighter and cutting off the blood flow to her head. Soon she’d pass out and then…well, she knew what was next.

  A single blast from behind Big Mike rang out.

  Lexi fell to the floor as Big Mike loosened his grip.

  Big Mike followed Lexi and fell on top of her. His hulking weight smothered her.

  Nicholas raced into the room. He strained to pull Big Mike’s body off of Lexi. “Christ, you’re a big fucker.”

  Lexi was unconscious.

  Nicholas heaved and rolled Big Mike off. He dropped to his knees and checked Lexi’s vitals, fearing the worst. He found a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Lexi fluttered her eyes open and said, “What are you doing? I had him.”

  “You are a pain in the ass, you know that?” Nicholas said.

  Rising slowly, Lexi looked at Big Mike then around the room. Not seeing the other man, she asked, “Where’s the other guy? Did you tie him up?”

  “No, he had a date with a 9 mm.”

  “You killed him?” Lexi asked, surprised.

  Nicholas helped her to her feet and replied, “Yes. When I saw that big asshole coming in here, I realized you might need some help.”

  “Good, you set him free,” Lexi quipped.

  “No, I said I killed him.”

  “Exactly, you set him free. Now his rotten soul can go to hell.”

  “Were you screwing with me before?” Nicholas asked.

  “Just a play on words, but when I saw the doubt I figured I’d test you.”

  He put her arm around his shoulder and asked, “Did I pass?”

  “With flying colors.”

  Sandy, Utah

  Pablo sat and waited patiently as General Luis gathered the entire army in a large field miles away from the compound. He looked at the fluffy white clouds moving across the majestic blue sky. As Annaliese would say, it was a bluebird day. The air was cold and crisp, and with each deep breath he took in the cool air soothed his burning throat.

  Each company formed up and stood at attention.

  When all were accounted for, Luis turned to Pablo and said, “All units present, sir.”

  “Good,” Pablo said and sat drumming his fingers on his thigh.

  Luis waited but Pablo said nothing else.

  A minute passed, then two and three, but Pablo just sat silent.

  “Sir, all men present and accounted for,” Luis said, not sure if Pablo was being absentminded. Luis had picked up on his senility a few times and knew it had to do with his head injuries.

  “Thank you, General,” Pablo said and sat, his gaze now fixed on the distant horizon.

  Another minute passed, then another and another.

  Pablo looked at his watch then at the men assembled then put his gaze on Luis, who was swaying.

  “The men—” Luis said.

  Pablo raised his hand, gesturing for him to be silent.

  Five minutes passed.

  Pablo looked at his watch, smiled and stood. He walked over to Luis and stopped just inches from him. “Call up your son and the men who buried those soldiers.”

  “Sir, yes, sir,” Luis said and did an about-face. “Captain Luis, Private Gonzalez, Private Rolando and Corporal Nunes front and center.”

  One by one the men called peeled away from the ranks. They individually marched until they were in front of Luis.

  Luis spun around and said, “The men are here, sir.”

  “I see that, out of my way,” Pablo said.

  “Sir, you wanted this,” Luis said, handing Pablo a bullhorn.

  Pablo took it, turned it on and spoke. “Men of the Pan American Empire, do you know how to follow orders?”

  Silence from the ranks.

  “Answer me!”

  In unison the entire army shouted, “Yes, sir!”

  “Are orders from your commanding officers suggestions?”

  “No, sir!” they roared.

  “When you follow an order, do you do it to the best of your ability?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Several nights ago I gave a specific order to General Luis, who delegated that order to Captain Luis, who passed that down to these three soldiers. However, they chose not to follow that order to the letter. I’m not sure if they’re lazy, insubordinate or just stupid.” He coughed, swallowed hard and continued. “These three men have now put us in jeopardy, all of us; each and every one of you could suffer because of what they did.”

  The three enlisted men shook with fear; they had heard the rumors and knew what their outcome would be.

  “Brave men of the Pan American Empire, what should we do with them? Should they pay for their crimes?”

  “Yes, sir!” they roared but with less enthusiasm. No doubt some feared that whatever happened to those men could also be a future punishment for them.

  “These men need to be made an example of,” Pablo said. He turned to Luis and ordered, “Give me your pistol.”

  Luis removed the semi-auto pistol from his hip holster and handed it butt first to Pablo.

  “These men were ordered to dispose of the prisoners we had taken. They were told to ensure they were dead then bury them in a place they could never be found. These men failed. Those soldiers were found in a shallow grave and only one was dead. Apparently, these men do not know what dead is.”

  “Please, sir, please forgive us,” Corporal Nunes pleaded.

  Pablo ignored Nunes; instead he ordered, “Private Gonzalez, come here.”

  The young private stepped forward. He was quivering in fear.

  “Do you know what dead means?” Pablo asked.

  Gonzalez nodded and said, “Yes, sir.”

  “Private Rolando, step forward,” Pablo ordered.

  Rolando did as he asked.

  “Do you know what dead means?” Pablo asked.

  “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “Corporal Nunes, do you know what dead means?”

  “Sir, please, it was a simple mistake. We thought—”

  Pablo smacked Nunes in the head with the bullhorn and said, “Answer the question.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Pablo raised the bullhorn and asked, “Do you all know what dead means?”

  His army roared, “Yes, sir!”

  “For those who are unsure, this is dead,” Pablo said then raised the pistol placed it against Nunes’ head and pulled the trigger.


  The side of Nunes’ head exploded. His lifeless body fell to the ground.

  “That is dead!” Pablo exclaimed.

  Gonzalez urinated in his trousers after seeing what happened to Nunes.

  “Now that we all understand what dead means, we need a lesson on the proper depth of a grave,” Pablo said and looked at Luis.

  Luis snapped his fingers.

  A soldier ran from the ranks with two shovels.

  “You two, bury Corporal Nunes.”

  Cheyenne, Wyoming, United States

  Loud banging on his office door woke Baxter. Groggy, he got to his feet and went to the door. “Hold on, hold on!” He opened it to find Laura standing there.

  “Sorry to wake you. President Cruz would like to see you in his office, now.”

  “Oh, the president’s here. Um, what time is it?” Baxter asked.

  “Afternoon, just past two,” Laura replied.

  “I’ll be right there.” Baxter put on his shoes and hurried out of the office.

  When he arrived at Cruz’s door, he adjusted his clothes, cleared his throat and closed his eyes to say a quick prayer. Ready to see the president, he knocked.

  “Come in,” Cruz hollered.

  Baxter entered and saw Cruz looking out the window, the same one Conner used to gaze out of. “Mr. President, so good to see you.”

  Cruz turned around and said, “Good to be back. General, please take a seat.”

  Baxter did as he said.

  “I cancelled the staff meeting you had called. I wanted to talk to you privately; then we can have a meeting tomorrow to discuss things.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’re going to war with Western Canada, there’s no way around it. But we’ll have the support of Canada and the Republic of Cascadia.”

  Baxter’s eyes widened. “Ah, excuse me, sir.”

  “We will need all assets and available allies to help in this effort. Western Canada is a formidable foe and we’ll need to destroy them decisively.”

  “But, sir, you just referred to Cascadia as a republic, a nation state. Are you going to officially acknowledge them?”

  “Yes, I’m going to do that, as is Texas, I believe. When I have more time I’ll discuss with you everything that occurred and why I’m making this decision. What I will say is Western Canada must be defeated.”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  “That’s it, you agree?”

  “Yes, sir, you’re the president. We will have to work with a press person to draft talking points and a notice to the people.”

  “That reminds me, find someone capable; I want to bring on an official press secretary. We need someone with a silver tongue to speak for us.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And finally, I have sent my mother to Cheyenne Mountain; I want all spouses and children of our top people in the administration to be sent there too. We’re going to war and Cheyenne will be a target. I can’t have our families used as pawns in this war; the prime minister has shown us he’ll do anything, including kidnapping our families, to complete his aims.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ha, you’re very agreeable today.”

  “Just happy to have you back safe and sound, sir. I’ll admit I was a bit scared. Being in the hot seat is…difficult. You’re the better man for the job, not me.”

  “That gets me to my final point; I need a vice president. I shirked my duty by not having someone in that position. That won’t happen again,” Cruz said and walked over to Baxter. “General, you and I have worked closely together since the beginning. You’ve been a trusted ally, confidant and I hope to say friend. We’ve literally been through a lot together. I look at you and I see a man who is not perfect, by no means, but one who I believe loves his country and only wants what is best for it.”

  Baxter lifted his chest in pride as Cruz spoke. He knew where this conversation was headed and he only wanted Cruz to shut up so he could say yes.

  Cruz stepped away and walked behind his desk. “General, I’m torn. I’m struggling with making a decision and I need your input.”

  Those words deflated Baxter, as it sounded like he wasn’t to be the pick.

  “I know none of us are perfect, we fail and make mistakes, but shouldn’t we look at the entire life of a person versus one thing? You see, General, I was given this by Secretary Franklin upon my return. He barely shook my hand before shoving this into the other,” Cruz said and picked up the envelope that Ferguson had given Baxter.

  Baxter’s stomach churned and tightened. In the matter of a minute he was riding high and now he was on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

  “I didn’t look at it until I returned to my office, and let me say, it’s intriguing stuff. I brought Franklin in here and asked him where he got it. He told me from the scene of your attack the other day. It was on the floor of the vehicle.”

  “Sir, let me explain.”

  Cruz held up his finger. “Let me finish. I asked him what else he knew about it. He told me they didn’t have anything else. General, there are two outcomes from this. Is this true?”

  “Mr. President, let me explain.”

  “Is this true?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you, Secretary Wilbur and good old Pat were the leaders of the resistance?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you orchestrated the bombings that tried to kill President Conner?”

  “No.”

  “I need you to be honest.”

  “I am, sir, the resistance had nothing to do with that. It is my belief that President Conner and Major Schmidt did those. They were a false flag so Conner could seize more power.”

  “That’s quite a conspiracy.”

  “I know, but I believe it to be true. I stopped working with them long before that occurred.”

  “Why did you join them?” Cruz asked.

  “I believed Conner was becoming a dictator. I found some of his actions unconscionable, and I don’t believe he had any intention of allowing democracy to return.”

  “What was your goal?”

  “My goal was to have him removed and you put into power.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And the most recent bombing, who was that?”

  “A man by the name of Eli Bennett, sir. He and Western Canada orchestrated that. If you speak with Megyn Sherman, she’ll explain everything.”

  “I have already. She corroborates what you just told me.”

  “And this Eli Bennett, do you know where he is?”

  “No, sir,” Baxter answered.

  “Why would he seek to work with Western Canada?”

  “Sir, it’s my belief, and I’m sorry I have to provide beliefs and not concrete facts, but I believe he was in love with Bethanny Wilbur. He holds you, Conner, and this entire administration responsible for her death.”

  “So he’s a vengeful lover?”

  “I don’t think they were lovers,” Baxter clarified for no reason.

  “You believe his motives stemmed from her death?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why did you leave the resistance?”

  “I thought their methods were possibly about to take a turn for the worse and get violent.”

  “Why didn’t you warn us?”

  “Out of fear, sir, if I had told Conner, he would have thanked me then had me shot.”

  Cruz nodded. “That’s probably true. So you disavow them and regret what you did?”

  “With all my heart, sir, I made a mistake, and once I realized that, I cut them loose and worked doubly hard to ensure Conner was successful.”

  Cruz tossed the papers on the desk and walked back to the window and thought.

  Sweat rolled down his back. Baxter considered a multitude of options: run, fight or surrender. He chose surrender. The fighting was over; he would accept his fate. “Sir, what is to become of me? Can I ask that the trial be quick, and if execution is my punishment, that it be s
wift and honorable? I know that’s a lot to ask from a traitor.”

  “No, General, none of that is going to happen. You’re not going to be arrested or tried or executed, General. You’re going to be my vice president.”

  Sandy, Utah

  Sweat dripped off Gonzalez’s and Rolando’s faces as they smoothed out the dirt that covered the grave of Corporal Nunes.

  Pablo kept the entire army at attention the whole time, including Luis. He wanted the lesson to sink in that orders were to be obeyed without question and by making them suffer they’d remember it distinctly.

  Gonzalez and Rolando wiped off their faces and stepped forward.

  “Done?” Pablo asked from his seat.

  “Yes, sir,” Rolando said.

  “Now you know what the proper depth is?” Pablo said.

  Both men nodded and said, “Yes, sir.”

  “Now tell me whose idea was it not to kill them?” Pablo asked.

  The shocking question made Rolando cry.

  Gonzalez groaned. “It was Corporal Nunes, sir.”

  “Okay, but neither of you thought it wise to report it? Neither of you thought that his bad judgment would come back and harm us all?” Pablo asked.

  Rolando began to wail.

  “Sir, we didn’t think we could do anything. He’s a noncommissioned officer,” Gonzalez replied in a weak attempt at defending himself.

  Pablo stood up, grabbed the bullhorn and said, “If you see something that is wrong, should you do something, should you report it?”

  The army replied, “Yes, sir!”

  Pablo looked at the two privates and said, “Corporal Nunes failed and he’s suffered the consequences. You both failed, but what shall we do with you?”

  “Sir, we’ve suffered enough,” Gonzalez answered.

  Rolando kept crying.

  “Stop crying,” Pablo ordered.

  Rolando tried but was overwhelmed with self-pity.

  “I believe the men in this army deserve an apology because what you did hurt them as well,” Pablo said and walked away to think about the appropriate punishment. He rubbed his chin for a second and pondered. “General Luis, any ideas?”

  Tired of standing, Luis wanted it to end for everyone. “A gauntlet, sir.”