Salt of Gomorrah (Silvers Invasion Book 1)

by Alex Mersey

  “Unless these cars all ran out of gas at the same time, then probably not,” Sean said.

  Still, he kept peeking into windows as they went, and he did find a remote controller fob left behind in a Land Rover. He climbed behind the wheel and pressed the starter. Nothing. Not even a click.

  First the upright cars, then a string of stores came into view, some kind of high end mini strip mall with only three storefronts, all uncannily intact. They drew to a staggered halt, staring at this small part of the world untouched by Silvers. The bridal boutique, high fashion leather accessories store and natural beauty oasis seemed to have been planted there deliberately to mock their own bedraggled appearance—barefoot, t-shirts hanging down to their knees, Johnnie dragging a golf club behind him and Sean swinging a white knapsack over his shoulder.

  “Window!” Johnnie shouted excitedly. “I win!”

  “Doesn’t count if it’s not in the ruins,” Alli contended, but her heart clearly wasn’t invested. She was too busy staring.

  “Does, too!”

  Sean dug into his knapsack for the treat, a roll of four bright red jaw breakers.

  “He’s not allowed those,” Lynn groaned.

  “Am too,” Johnnie declared. “I won it.”

  Sean passed the candy to Lynn, making it her problem as they trudged up the sloped drive to where the stores nestled amongst the trees. “No windows broken. Doesn’t look like it’s been looted.”

  “Guess there’s no demand for bridal gowns and fancy soaps in the apocalypse,” Beth said. “I’d happily swap all three stores for a basement bargain shoe shop. Although…” She tilted her chin at the window display of oversized leather sling bags with long straps that could easily double as shoulder holders. “Those could be useful.”

  Lynn stomped closer. “We’re not breaking in to shop for a new purse.”

  Pressing her nose to the window, Beth cupped a hand to block the glare so she could see deeper inside the accessory store. “But if someone had already smashed the window, that would be okay?”

  “Marginally.”

  “How about a new pair of leather moccasins?” Beth turned to her with a huge grin. “There’s a whole shelf of them.”

  Lynn grunted and put her face to the window. “Well.”

  “Well, indeed.” Beth held her hand out to Johnnie. “Do you mind if I borrow your club?”

  The kid gladly handed it over with a nervous giggle.

  Sean rapped his knuckles on the window. “This is reinforced. A kiddie’s club won’t make a scratch.”

  She shooed him and his negativity out of the way.

  Alli folded her arms, eyes rolled to high heaven. “Like you’re going to just smash the window.”

  “Watch me,” Beth said. “And if a cop car comes screaming up, all the better.”

  She swung the club, hard. Vibrations trilled from her wrist to her elbow at the impact as the club bounced harmlessly off the glass. Jaw set in determination, she stood with her feet slightly apart for balance and mustered all her strength into the next swing. The thud was louder, there was that.

  “Told you,” Sean said and walked off around the side of the buildings. A few minutes later, he returned with a melon-sized rock.

  The first throw put a hairline fracture into the glass. The next one splintered into a cracked spider web and the rock went straight through the window with the final throw. He used the golf club to make the hole bigger and shave off the jagged edges so they could climb inside.

  The moccasins were soft, subtle leather and a thin padding of rubber sole—indoor wear—but as a plus, they fit snug and cozy without socks and Sean managed to find a size 10 even though the design had a distinctly feminine slant.

  Having won his fight for justice, Johnnie ripped open the packet and popped one of the red balls into his mouth. Beth’s jaw ached just watching his small mouth work around the gobstopper.

  “You can have one if you want,” he mumbled around the candy, offering the packet to Alli. “Mom says I’m not allowed to eat them all, anyway.”

  “In that case…” Alli hunched down to his height to help herself from the packet. “Thanks, sport.”

  Thick as thieves, the two of them wandered over to the baskets of leather accessories arranged on a table while Beth went to take a look at the sling bags. Each one was individual, beautifully crafted, and she allowed some of the old Beth to sneak in as she took her time, eventually choosing a chocolate brown with a flamingo painted in earthy orange tones.

  Meanwhile, Sean and Lynn had discovered an impressive array of daggers sheathed in decorated leather. They hesitated, but Beth didn’t have to think twice about selecting a dainty one for delicate tasks and a rather mean looking serrated edge for….less delicate tasks. She turned out her pink backpack into the leather bag before stowing the knives inside.

  “What?” she said to the pair of bedeviled frowns. “We need to protect ourselves.”

  “From what?” asked Lynn. “A bear?”

  Beth shrugged and hefted the bag at them. “You should each get one of these.”

  “Go ahead,” Sean said to Lynn. “I’m already wearing women’s shoes; I think I’ll stick to my Huckleberry Finn sack.”

  Beth opened the bag wider, eyes nudging the knapsack. “Want to offload some of that?”

  Lynn selected a bag and brought it over so they could divvy up the food, leaving Sean to carry the heavier bottles of water.

  There wasn’t much more to grab. Beth plucked some silk scarves from a stand, simply because they were only other thing remotely useful. And she could toss them if or when she found better booty to fill her bag, she reasoned. She zipped up the bag, pulling the long straps over her shoulders. After a bit of adjusting, the weight sat fairly comfortable on her spine.

  Johnnie and Alli came away with leather wristbands and then they were climbing out the broken window in their brand new moccasins.

  Beth’s gaze flitted across the bridal boutique to the natural beauty store, the kind of place that probably sold mud from the Dead Sea and volcanic crystals scrub—she didn’t look long or hard enough to know for sure as they trotted down the drive to the road.

  Sean’s sense of direction proved true and, before too long, a multiple story complex burgeoned into view, backdrop to an enormous open air lot that glinted with rows of neatly parked cars. Even some people milling in between the stationary cars, clustering around the front entrance, a family with two small children emerging from the tree line with their eye on the hospital building.

  “Remember,” Sean said grimly as they made their own way through the parking lot. “In and out. Get what we need and we’re gone.”

  Instantly alert, Beth scanned the area. “Do you see something you don’t like?”

  “I don’t like anything I see,” he replied. “Too many people. A block of five-story buildings.” He pointed down the road where the further reaches of the medical center crowned. “How did the Silvers miss this?”

  “Maybe they got bored of blasting us to smithereens,” Lynn suggested.

  Sean cocked a brow at her.

  “No, you’re right.” She shrugged. “We don’t stay any longer than we have to.”

  “Fine by me,” Beth said, surging ahead only to be slowed at the crush around the entrance.

  The doors were propped open, and the bottleneck was caused by the two women stationed either side, dressed in knee-length skirt suits and sensible black leather shoes.

  They had clipboards and a question before they’d let anyone pass through. “Medical assistance or refuge?”

  The medical cases had to give their names to be jotted down before being directed to the right, everyone else was herded to the left.

  “At least not all these people need to see the doctor,” Lynn observed. “That could be a long wait.”

  When it was their turn, Beth ushered Alli forward. “Medical assistance. My sister has an infected—”

  “Patient’s name!” the harassed w
oman barked, peering at Beth over the top of her spectacles.

  Beth scowled. “Allira Singh.”

  She jotted that down and waved them to the right. “Sign in at the reception desk. Through those doors.”

  “We’re with them,” Sean said, attempting to slip through with Lynn and Johnnie.

  The woman slapped her clipboard out to shepherd them in the opposite direction. “Only one family member or friend allowed for every patient. You can register for shelter that way.”

  “We’re not staying.”

  “Then you’re welcome to wait outside.”

  “Actually,” Lynn said, “I should probably get my son’s ankle examined, since we’re here. He turned it quite badly. Jonathan Westford.”

  “He seems to be walking just fine to me.”

  “I’d prefer an expert opinion, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure, why not,” the woman said in snarky, nasal drawl. “We’re busting at the seams, we’re severely understaffed, the wait times are two to three hours depending on how many life or death emergencies we have to push in, but please, don’t let me stop you from—”

  “I get it,” Lynn said, sounding somewhat contrite despite the woman’s hostile tone. “We’ll just wait outside.”

  “Or maybe we’ll go take a look at what they’re offering for shelter,” Sean countered. He glanced at Beth. “Meet us right outside when you’re done.”

  She nodded and headed for the swing doors with Alli.

  Stepping through felt like stepping two days into the past. The interior was dim, lit by standing halogen lamps that appeared to be battery operated, but everything else was deceptively pre-apocalypse normal. The short queue at reception. The fidgeting shuffle and sweaty odor of too many bodies crowded into the waiting area. A baby crying. Children wiggling on their parents’ laps. The uniformed nurse who bustled through another set of doors to call out a name from her clipboard.

  The organized chaos was actually slightly less depressing than any given day at a NHS emergency walk-in.

  - 20 -

  Sean

  The service stairs were illuminated only by the doors propped open on each landing. They’d been directed to the first floor, but Sean had higher ground in mind.

  “I gather we’re not registering,” Lynn said, grabbing Johnnie’s hand as they squeezed through the crowd that overflowed onto the stairway.

  The traffic thinned once they’d bypassed the third floor and by the fourth floor, the pulse of noise and mayhem dimmed.

  “We’re not scrounging for footwear or a decent brew of coffee either?” The hope in Lynn’s voice bought her a grin from him. “Sean, where on earth are we going?”

  “Just looking.” They passed two floors where the doors were closed, the keypads ominously black, and then they ran out of stairway. “Damn, I was hoping this would take us to the helipad on the roof.”

  Lynn gave him a look. “So no coffee, but you think you’re going to get a helicopter ride out of here?”

  Johnnie’s cheek popped like a lopsided chipmunk to hold the jawbreaker so he could speak from his red-stained mouth. “Can I ride in the helicopter?”

  “I was being sarcastic, sweetie.” Lynn said.

  The seven-year-old didn’t quite get the whole sarcasm thing, practically bouncing on his feet. “Can I fly it? Can I?”

  “There’s no helicopter, kiddo, I just wanted to check the view from the roof,” Sean said. He pushed the door on the top floor, surprised when it swung open. The locks must have disengaged when the power went off.

  A plush reception and waiting area spanned the width of the building, a bank of glass-walled elevators on one side. The plaque above the reception and the stretch into a wide corridor of doorways suggested consulting rooms for various specialties. Silence greeted them as they walked deeper inside, looking around. This space hadn’t been reallocated to house the influx of refuge seekers…yet.

  While Lynn set up a game of mini-golf for Johnnie in the corridor with a couple of plastic cups from the water cooler, Sean propped his knapsack up against the wall and made his way over to the window on the far end. It looked out toward the South Mountain Reservation, mostly dense forest with patches of concrete and ruins.

  “Are we looking for something specific?” Lynn said as she joined him.

  “Not really.” He shoved a hand through his hair, his frowning eyes on a residential conclave that resembled the aftermath of a hurricane…or a drone strike. “I guess I’m trying to make sense of things. They obliterated New York City and everything in between, and then there’s that.” He pointed at the broken buildings. “It’s like they suddenly dialed back the wattage to take potshots at us instead of just vaporizing our footprint from the face of the planet.”

  “Maybe the EMP sapped their weapon power.”

  “Now there’s a pleasant thought.”

  “I do have another theory I’ve been working on.” Lynn pressed her palm to the window, peering out. “There’s a lot of greenspace out here. It’s possible they want to preserve the earth’s natural resources.”

  “Eco-friendly galactic warlords,” Sean said with a dry laugh.

  “I’m serious.” Lynn spun from the window to deliver a light punch to his arm. “It makes sense that they wouldn’t want to choke the entire planet on ash. They need something to rebuild on if they intend to make this their new home, and why else would they be here?”

  “To drill megaton turbines into earth’s core and suck it dry?” One of many suggestions that came to mind, none of which required preservation of the ground or atmosphere. “Granted, my expertise knowledge comes solely from sci-fi blockbusters, so there’s that.”

  Of course, since the masterplan clearly didn’t include any of the human race being around to witness the final outcome of terraformed earth, it hardly mattered.

  We’re alive until we’re not.

  So far as mottos went, this one could use some major tweaking, but it was all he had.

  They crossed the reception to look out toward Livingston. In the distance, the suburban sprawl seemed undisturbed, difficult to tell for sure without binoculars. Closer up, they had no trouble discerning the ill-fate of what looked to be a container yard. The office was destroyed, the walls of stacked metal collapsed with the massive containers strewn about. The immediate area to the east, west and north had been hit hard. They had no view to the south, although Sean could guess.

  He scanned the ground, the skies. “Why did they leave this medical center alone?”

  “I don’t know,” Lynn murmured, “but I agree, something feels off here.”

  They set up watch, him on this side, Lynn at the window looking out to South Mountain. If Sean squashed his face to the glass, he could see a couple of meters from the front entrance doors where Beth and Alli would emerge when they were done. The wait time the woman had specified, two to three hours, felt like two to three hours too long.

  He called out to Lynn occasionally, “See anything?” and checked in with Johnnie for the time. Apart from that, the only sounds came from the kid, the thwack of his club on the ball, the exclamations mumbled around his mouthful of candy when he, presumably, struck a hole-in-one.

  At the hour mark, Sean started to relax. The skies remained clear. A fresh wave of people straggled out of the tree line to cross the car park, another ragtag group came down the road. It was heartening, but also weirdly overwhelming, to see more and more survivors filter in. As if his psyche had already adjusted to a shadow population and now had to readjust.

  His attention sharpened on the echelon darkening the sky to the west, the massive V formation of migratory birds flying toward their next summer ahead of schedule.

  Then they broke formation. “Lynn!”

  “What?” She came sprinting over.

  “I’m not sure.” He searched for the battlecruiser. “Are those birds or Black Arrows?”

  “Black arrows?”

  “The drone-like jets that—”


  “Alien fighter jets?” She scrunched her face to the window. “God, do you think so? They look like birds. There must be dozens.”

  Sean’s gut twisted, unsure, uneasy. He’d assumed he was looking out for the bulky, rectangular battlecruiser. He’d assumed the Black Arrows were only released to protect the alien destroyer ships when they came under threat.

  The birds spread out, with purpose, and all at once he knew. Drone strikes…that explained the local landscape of destruction. A single laser pulse from a battlecruiser reduced an entire block to dunes of dust.

  “You were right,” he said tightly. “They’ve changed tactics. They’re sending out the Black Arrows to attack.”

  And then it was confirmed.

  One of the Black Arrows flying toward them swooped low over the suburban sprawl, streaking intermittent flashes to the ground.

  Lynn whirled about. “Johnnie!”

  “I’ve got him.” Sean dashed into the corridor to grab the startled kid, bundling him up into his arms.

  “My club!”

  “Sorry, kiddo, we’ll get you another one.” He knew Johnnie must be frightened witless, but there was no time to chat about what was happening. Instead he squashed the kid to his chest, wrapped so tight it didn’t matter if he flailed or screamed.

  Heart pounding, he raced for the stairway, yelling to Lynn, “Go, go! I’ve got him.”

  She hung back at the doorway. “I’m right behind you.”

  He saw it in her eyes and didn’t argue. She wasn’t going to run for safety ahead of her child.

  The stairs felt endless. The heavy bundle in his arms slowed him down, not so much the weight, but the fear of going sprawling headfirst. The busy floors screamed at him as he passed. All these people. They needed to be warned. But the chaos, the time lost in trying to explain the urgency… Later.

  Finally, they made it to ground level.

  Sean shoved the kid into Lynn’s arms, then he shoved them both out the door. “Head for the trees across the parking lot. Go!”

  Without waiting to see if she followed the order, she would, he shouted at the women manning the doors. “Silvers are attacking. You need to clear this building. Now!”