She quietly stood. Moving into the tiny bathroom with its yellow tile floor and cracked walls, she shut the door and felt around for the candle and box of matches Mary had left out on the sink. Holding the half-burned candle beside her face, she looked at her image in the mirror, studying the features that stared back at her. She’d lost weight, she could see that in her face; she was too thin now, her cheekbones taut. Her blonde hair was pulled back and dirty and she wanted a shower in the worst way. But she was still beautiful. More, she felt stronger than she’d ever felt before. The light inside her eyes was just as bright and she had lost the hesitation that had haunted her during the first days after the attack. The floor was cold and she rubbed her hands against her arms, then looked back in the mirror, staring into her own eyes in the flicker of the yellow light. The pain was there, deep inside, but she knew she would be OK. She could smile now and really mean it. It was true; she had a lot to look forward to.
Wasn’t it strange? Despite the desperation all around her, she had so much to live for.
“Patience. Keep looking forward. You have a lot to be grateful for.”
Puffing out the candle, she opened the bathroom door and moved toward the sleeping bag on the floor.
*******
As Sara passed the narrow doorway that led into the kitchen, something caught her eye. She stopped, frozen, her heart suddenly racing in her chest, then slowly turned her head.
Something was at the window.
No! It couldn’t be!
There. It flashed again.
She caught her breath in fear.
It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be! She was on the third floor.
But she’d seen it. She knew she’d seen it. She hadn’t lost her mind.
A pale face. A vicious smile. Dark eyes staring back at her.
She gaped at the window without moving. The empty pane was lifeless, dark, the faintest glow of starlight casting a pale sheen. She stared and held her breath again. Nothing moved. Her heart raced, the blood pounding in her ears. Behind her, she could sense her sons as they slept, their heavy breathing, sometimes movement, the soft brush of bodies against the sleeping bags. She wanted to run to them and cry in fear. But she was frozen where she stood.
She wasn’t going crazy. She had seen the face at the window, staring back at her.
Another chill ran through her. She could feel her own breath upon her face, moist and faint. It was cold inside the apartment now, and she shivered as she stared.
She took a step toward the window. Her feet touched the cheap linoleum, feeling every crack on its surface. The room was silent. It seemed so dark, darker than any other night. She kept on walking. Eight steps before she reached the window.
Something fluttered by! Black cloth. A hand. Suspended in the air.
Her fist shot to her mouth to stifle her cry of fear.
No! It couldn’t be!
She didn’t move. She felt faint and dizzy, almost sick inside. She realized she wasn’t breathing and took a gasp of air.
She wasn’t dreaming. She wasn’t crazy.
She took another step, forcing herself to breathe. Another step. The floor creaked as she adjusted her weight to release the pressure against the floorboard. Behind her, Ammon coughed and rolled over. Somewhere above her, heavy footsteps moved down the tenement hall. She stared. The window was completely blank. Dark. Another step and then another. She never blinked, eyes riveted at the window. Something drew her forward. She tried to fight it, but she couldn’t resist. The window stared back at her, a sheet of black, flat and cold. It seemed to mock her, daring her to come. Come closer. Come and see. There is something out here. Come closer. Do you dare?
She kept moving forward, every sense raw and on edge. She was aware of every breath, every touch against her feet, the cold air against her arms, the utter lack of sound, the blackness of the night, the dank smell of the refrigerator that didn’t work.
A final step. She felt the countertop against her hips and sensed the emptiness of the kitchen sink below her arms. The window was just two feet away. She leaned forward but saw nothing. She reached out to touch the glass, feeling the coldness of the outside air against the pane. Leaning a little closer, she looked down at the outline of the streets below.
He dropped down and stared at her, suspended in midair. His face was evil, black and brooding, his dark eyes flashing in the starlight. He smiled and pointed at her.
She was what he was looking for.
Sara’s mouth hung open, her breath sinking in her chest. Half a second passed in silence. Finally, she let out a scream.
*******
Twenty minutes later, Sam and Ammon tapped carefully on the apartment door. Mary let them in. Sam held his flashlight, its bright, white beam illuminating the night. Like all of his gear, it had been protected from the devastating pulse of EMP by the underground subway. Sara sat on the edge of the couch, her hands trembling at her side. Sam’s face was tense but not frightened, puzzled but not strained.
Sara watched her sons as they walked into the room. Luke was standing behind her, both of his hands resting on her shoulders. Mary remained close, never leaving her side. Sara caught a flash of dark metal in Sam’s hand.
“What did you find?” Mary asked. She gripped Sara’s shoulders as if bracing for bad news.
Ammon and Sam exchanged an anxious look. “You were right, Mom. There was someone outside the window.”
The room was silent. “Are you kidding me!” Luke finally asked.
“See, I’m not going crazy,” Sara said, her voice defensive. Mary knelt down by her.
“No, Mom, we always said that you weren’t crazy.”
“But you didn’t believe me?”
“That’s not true. We just didn’t know what to think.”
Sara reached over and placed a hand on Mary’s arm. “He was there. Suspended in the air. Like he was flying,” she repeated her story for the umpteenth time.
“Well, not exactly.” Sam held up the piece of metal. “But it would have looked like that to you.”
“What did you find?”
Sam moved the flashlight to the piece of black metal in his hand. “This is a military rappelling device. They’d planted a bolt into the edging along the top of the roof, then rappelled over the edge using this brake and carabiner. It was the only way they could have looked inside the window.”
“Military rappelling devices? Bolts and carabiners? What are you talking about?” Sara pleaded.
Sam held out the oval carabiner and braking device. “I know this gear,” he said. “It’s highly specialized military equipment used by Special Ops.”
Sara stared at him, her face growing pale. “Are you saying there was a U.S. soldier outside our window?”
Sam thought for a long moment. “I’m saying there was someone. We don’t know who. We don’t know why. It seems crazy, but someone was out there. And they knew what they were doing. They were looking for something or someone. There was a reason they were there.”
Sara looked away. For a moment, Sam thought she was going to be sick, she looked so ghostly white. He took a step toward her. “Mom, are you OK?”
He watched her as her head dropped.
“Mom?” he asked again.
She was silent a long time. The apartment was deathly quiet. “I know who they were,” she finally said. She shook her head and closed her eyes.
Sam shot a quick look to his mother. He was the only other person who knew.
Mary asked, “Who would be using this equipment? Why would they be here?”
Every eye remained on Sara. She turned and looked at Mary. “I have put you all in danger.”
Mary shook her head. “You have saved me, baby.”
Sara swallowed hard, then jumped up, ran into the kitchen, and threw up into the sink.
SEVENTEEN
East Side, Chicago, Illinois
Sam tapped quickly, almost silently, on the apartment door. Azadeh stared at it anxiousl
y while Mary let him in. He pushed the door back just a crack, slipped into the room before she could open it all the way, then grabbed the metal handle and shoved it closed again. All of them except for Luke and Kelly were waiting in the small living room. They all stared at him, waiting for his report. The soldier’s face looked grim.
“What’s the matter?” Sara asked him.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I was being followed!”
Sara’s hand shot to her mouth and she sucked in an anxious breath. Mary looked at the window nervously. Being from the neighborhood, she knew better than the others what being followed might really mean. Ammon stepped toward him, the brothers communicating with just a look between them.
“Followed?” Sara asked. “Do you think it was the—you know—the same man who was at the window?”
Sam went into the kitchen and poured himself a drink of water from one of the plastic canteens they had brought. “No, Mom, it was just a couple of hoods,” he answered after taking a quick swallow. “No biggie. I can take care of them. I lost them anyway. Still, I’d just as soon not advertise that we’re all up here in this apartment.” He took another swallow. He was thirsty. He’d been running. For the first time, Sara saw the shiny beads of sweat on his brow.
Sam motioned to his army jacket. “Funny how this gets such an interesting reception out there on the street.”
Sara and Ammon followed him into the kitchen and the group eventually congregated around the tiny table, eager to hear everything he had to say.
“Did you learn anything?” Ammon asked.
“Not a lot,” Sam answered after finishing his drink. He motioned toward the window. “It’s getting kind of crazy out there.”
That much they knew. All it took was one look out on the street to see that the world that had existed just a few days before was gone.
“Are we going to be able to leave tonight like we planned?” Ammon asked. He was more ready than any of them to get out of the dreary place.
Sam shook his head. “I don’t think so. Gangs have blocked off almost every street. They’ve dragged old cars, piled up garbage cans, old furniture, anything they can get a hold of to build a barrier.”
Ammon almost swore. He simply couldn’t stand the thought of another day trapped inside the apartment.
“It’ll be OK,” Sam said to assure him. “They’ve already started to fight among themselves. It reminds me a little bit of Serbia, but things will settle down. Still, we don’t want to leave tonight. I think it’s too early. Another day, maybe two, and I think things will be OK. If we leave at the right time and follow the route we talked about, I think we can get through the worst areas without too much problem.” He shot a secret look at Azadeh. “If we are careful, and if we stay together, we’ll be OK.” He turned to Sara. “How’s Luke doing? What about Kelly Beth?”
“They’re both doing really well. It’s just amazing.”
Sam walked toward the window. “I met some policemen,” he continued.
“Really!” Mary exclaimed, her voice hopeful.
“It’s about time,” Sara said. “Where have all the law enforcement officers been?”
“There aren’t many of them reporting for duty, from what I could learn. Right now they’re trying to operate with less than five percent of their total force.”
“Five percent!” Ammon shot back. His face showed disappointment and disgust. “Cowards! Where did they all go?”
“Same as the rest of us,” Sam replied. “Home with their families. Trying to survive. Trying to figure out where they’re going to get some water for their kids, where they’re going to find some food. And in some ways, I can’t blame them. I wouldn’t want to be a law enforcement officer down there on the street right now. A million crazy people, lots of them with guns. No rules. No expectations. No communications between officers. No backup. No police vehicles. No way to get around.”
The group was silent. Azadeh started to say something and they all looked at her, but she fell silent, embarrassed.
“You saw some cops, though. That’s a good step,” Mary said. “Maybe we’ve turned the corner. If we can get some officers down there on the street, if people start to feel like things will soon be back to normal—”
“Miss Dupree,” Sam interrupted, “I don’t mean to be disagreeable, but things are not getting anywhere back to normal.”
“But if we can get some policemen—”
“I’m not sure we can be counting on these guys to help us anyway. Maybe just the opposite. I watched them shaking people down. First thing they did when they stopped me was frisk me for any food or water. Second thing they wanted was to take away my gun. I told them, dude, you got to be kidding. They insisted. Well, maybe even more than insisted. I tried to show them my military ID, explain to them I was authorized to carry it, that it was a military-issue weapon. It took a while to get them to back off.” He cracked a quick smile. “I had to be persuasive.”
Ammon watched him carefully. There was more to this story. A lot more. Sam hadn’t gotten the cops to leave him alone by sweet-talking them. He would discuss it with his brother later on.
Sam lifted the cup again, letting every drop of water drip into his mouth. Putting it down, he wiped the sweat from his forehead, wetting his sleeve. “We’ve got a new president of the United States,” he said.
Stunned silence. No one moved. An unexplained chill fell over the room.
“A new president?” Mary asked him.
Sam nodded at her.
“A new beginning? A new start at order?” Mary’s voice was full of hope.
A cold chill moved through Sara. It cut her, sending a dull ache around the base of her skull. A new beginning? She forced herself to breathe. No, she knew that wasn’t true.
She took a step back, her face drained of color. She didn’t breathe again for a long moment, her eyes dropping to the floor.
No one noticed her distress. They concentrated on Sam.
“A new leader for our nation?” Ammon asked him.
“Yep. A new head cheese.”
“Who is it?”
Sam wiped another bead of sweat from his face.
The room fell still and cold again.
“Albert Fuentes,” Sara said into the silence.
Everyone turned to her, but that was all she said.
Ammon shot a puzzled look to Sam, asking with his eyes. “Yeah, she’s right,” he said.
Ammon turned back to his mother. “How did you know that, Mom?”
She stood in the middle of the tiny kitchen, her hands shaking at her side. If she’d been staring at a monster, which she was, she couldn’t have looked more scared.
Ammon took a step toward her. “How did you know that, Mom?” he repeated, his voice as gentle as a whisper.
Sara swallowed and looked away.
The room was still and silent.
“Your father told me,” she finally said.
COMING IN EPISODE EIGHT...
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The old man raised an eyebrow. “He’s the best you got?” He smiled weakly as he said it. Fuentes thought that he was kidding. The others knew he was not. “I don’t know. I really don’t,” the old man went on. “I feel like I’m on the iceberg watching the Titanic bearing down. It’s a full moon. We’ll see the bodies. This is going to be a freaking mess.”
*******
A flash of movement in the smoky morning pulled Sam’s eyes away. Four of the men drew their weapons and pointed them at his head. In a simultaneous burst of motion, he pulled out his Beretta and shoved it into the leader’s face.
“You’ll never get us all,” the leader mocked.
“Maybe not, but I’ll get you.”
*******
Eighteen thousand feet above them, a pilotless drone moved silently through the empty sky, its sensors looking down, its hypersensitive radar, visual, IR, and ultraviolet sensors scanning the two-block radius around them inch by inch. Far a
way—from what location, the leader didn’t know, perhaps an unknown base inside the U.S., but more likely from a CIA site overseas—a military pilot controlled the drone, flying it by satellite-remote control, the drone’s sensors relaying what it sensed or saw. And the Predator reconnaissance aircraft saw everything. It could count the squirrels in the trees around them from the heat their bodies bled into the morning air, detect the coolness from the water trapped in rain gutters from the downpour the night before, sense the vibration on the front windows of the various homes enough to know if anyone was speaking inside. The man looked up, feeling naked, knowing the Predator could read the heat that escaped through his shirt collar accurately enough to estimate the heartbeats in his chest, knowing it could fire its Hellfire missiles at him and he would never know, the explosion killing him seconds before he ever saw or heard the missiles coming at him through the air.
*******
“Kill them!” the Master screamed again into the mortal’s ear. He had his arms around him, holding him in a cold and deadly grip. “Kill them now. Kill them all!” He cried with rage and fury.
The mortal hesitated.
“DO IT!” Satan commanded.
*******
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Coming In Episode Eight...
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Wolves in the Night: Wrath & Righteousness: Episode Seven Page 14