Minus America

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Minus America Page 21

by E. E. Isherwood


  “Honestly, if this is Heaven,” he chuckled, “you can address me however you want.”

  “If being in the woods with a washed-up politician is your idea of Heaven, you need to widen your horizons. And no, you aren’t in Heaven. This is muggy-as-hell Virginia.”

  He sat up, suddenly aware he was addressing his commander-in-chief. However, his military training insisted he keep a grip on operational security before blabbing that important piece of intel.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “That’s simple,” she said dryly. “The plane blew up, almost on top of you. I think the explosion sucked the oxygen from your lungs and made you pass out. What the heck were you thinking? Why did you try to get the plane to land on you?”

  He smirked. “I wasn’t trying to get crushed. I was trying to brush you off. I, uh, had a suspicion there would be an attack on you.”

  “A suspicion? Don’t take this the wrong way, but that sounds a tad suspicious.”

  He looked up into her brown eyes, content to admire her thick lashes and feminine lines. After spending the day with Ramirez, he could spend the rest of the day watching her.

  “Hold up! Ramirez! He’s bad!”

  She put a hand on his chest as if he were going to get up and run. “Easy there. I know. He showed up about an hour ago, right after the attack. If he’d come by himself, I would have run out to greet him, but he was with the other assholes. I kept in the bushes while he pulled a black bag from inside your truck. They also took your rifle.”

  “But he left me? That bastard. I saved his life in DC.”

  “Maybe that’s why he didn’t shoot you on the spot,” she reasoned. “Although we’ll never know if they thought the truck was going to burn anyway. It melted down to the frame after I got you out.”

  He shifted and sat with his legs crisscrossed. They were in the woods not far from the still-burning wreck. The outline of the plane was obvious, but he didn’t even see the remains of his truck.

  “Thanks for getting me to safety. Wait—” He looked to the plane, then back to her. “How the fuck did you survive that? Were you in the cradle?”

  There was a module in the VC-25 airframe that was supposed to allow a president to survive the destruction of the plane. He’d never been allowed to see it, but he knew it was on board. He had to imagine it looked like the replica they used in the old movie Escape from New York.

  She smiled, showing her white teeth. He found it reassuring that she seemed relaxed and happy. “You aren’t going to believe it, but General Charleston made me jump out of the plane a minute before touchdown. I landed on the other side of these trees, almost at the bottom of a strip mine, if you can imagine.”

  “Hey, I was there this morning. Me and Lieutenant Ramirez found a getaway truck. The same one now burning over there.” He paused. “How did you manage to jump?” he added with surprise, as if remembering she’d done something risky.

  “You really don’t know a thing about me, do you?” she pressed in a more serious manner.

  “I know your politics are, uh, not my style. Other than that, I heard you were one of the youngest vice presidents. And the first woman, obviously.”

  “Right on all counts. We’ll deal with our political differences another time. But here’s something you obviously didn’t know: I’m a pilot.”

  “What? Air Force? How did I not know that?” It would have been the first thing other pilots talked about on Air Force Two.

  “Not Air Force. My family is big into aviation. My mom was a stunt pilot for some big movie companies. My dad still runs a skydiving business out in Montana. I learned to jump with both of them, for different reasons.” She laughed with her polished delivery. He figured she told the story a lot, being in the glad-handing business.

  “Did General Charleston know that?”

  “Probably. It doesn’t matter, though. His idea saved my life. He was thinking of my security the whole time, which is ironic since he was the one who got me to do the dangerous jump.”

  “Why did he do that?” he pressed.

  “He was convinced there were still spies on the plane. He wanted to flush them out and figured it was so obvious we were landing at Dulles, and we were such a target, that the spies would prevent their own destruction by calling off the attack.”

  “That was his first and last mistake,” he said dryly.

  “He said he was going right for the radio desk to wait for someone to give themselves away.”

  “But you’ll never know if he found anyone…”

  “No,” she admitted, before going on. “The plan was to send me out the back door while the plane landed. If no one gave themselves away, it meant the way was clear, and they could land. If they intercepted a radio signal trying to save their bacon, he’d make sure the plane veered away from the airport. If that happened, I was supposed to get with you.” She blushed immediately. “Sorry! Oh, my. What I meant was, I would have gotten with you on the ground. No again! Oh, you know what I mean.”

  “I do.” He took it in stride. “I’ve never heard a politician make so many mistakes in her speech.”

  She recovered immediately. “I assure you, I’m no common politician.”

  He shook his head. “Wait just a minute! What were you planning to do if they blew up the plane and also killed me and ER? You’d have been stuck on the ground with no allies.”

  “Honestly, I didn’t think any of this would happen. I knew we would be here ahead of the fake departure time. I planned to be in and out before the bad guys could set up shop. I was wrong about that bit, though.” Her eyes lost some of their shine. “And my friends in the plane paid the ultimate price for my mistake.”

  “No, that was my fault. I should have spread out the times more.”

  The attackers had probably been at the airport since he and ER left after the first landing. No amount of sneaking and fake departure times would have prevented the attack. There were only so many places the oversized plane could land.

  They fell into silence for a short time.

  Ted rubbed his neck. “It may not be the best time to mention this, but everyone is gone. Every person in that quarry. Every person on the highways. Exactly like at Andrews. Ma’am, my sister was right. I’d wager all of America is gone.”

  She seemed taken aback.

  “It gets worse. The president is dead. Ramirez saw the— What should we call empty clothing? Evidence of death? He gave me this.” He reached into his front pocket and pulled out the challenge coin. It carried a picture of the White House on one side and the smiling face of the president on the other.

  “He always did love looking at himself,” she remarked as she flipped it in her hand. “Well, hell’s kitchen, I might have stayed aboard if I’d known that.” She chuckled, but there was a wistful quality to it. He imagined she was rethinking her decisions for real.

  She went on after a short pause. “Nah. I can’t second guess it. We were low on fuel. I needed to know what you’d found. We needed eyes on the ground.”

  “I tried calling you as soon as I knew, but my phone’s service network isn’t working. I’m sorry I didn’t prevent this crash, but I do have other news. And I have a niece I’d like to talk about…”

  She held out her hand, beckoning him to stand. “Come on. Let’s go. You can tell me all about it on the way.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’ll tell you about it on the way,” she snickered.

  He took her hand.

  Arnold, MO

  Standing at the young girl’s kitchen table, she felt like a visitor to a distant land. And yet Tabby was forced to play the part of tour guide. Cool. Collected. Informative.

  “Audrey, your mom and sister were…” She went through a rolodex of science fiction movies she’d watched with Mom and Dad the past few years. Every Saturday night was movie night in the Breeze household. It was a tradition she upheld religiously until she started going steady with her brainy boyfriend.
Then he was added to the tradition, until they broke up.

  She came dangerously close to losing her composure. Every boyfriend. Every family member. Everyone…

  “They were here, Audrey, at this table. In these seats. Now—” All she could do was point.

  Audrey’s eyes were drawn to where Tabby indicated. “There’s no one here. Did you see my mom or not?”

  Tabby shook her head. “Those were people we saw back at the park. We sat at their picnic table. They were there having lunch. Then, we saw people’s clothes blowing in the streets around my house. And those cars on the roads? None of them had people. Just their clothes.”

  Peter dove into the conversation. “What, like aliens took them?”

  “That’s silly,” Donovan added with zero enthusiasm.

  “You bitch! I don’t care about your stupid stories. Tell me where my fucking mom is!” The teen girl stomped to the far side of the kitchen and looked out the window to the back yard. “Mom!” she yelled.

  Tabby didn’t know if there was a right way to do what she was doing. If there was, her dad never taught her that lesson. She sensed her own wall breaking down. Her lower lip quivered as she watched Audrey slowly circle back to her mom and sister. By the time the girl tentatively touched the little bib, Tabby broke down.

  Audrey started to bawl the second she did. Though Tabby only saw through watery eyes, she reached out and wrapped her arms around her friend.

  “I’m so sorry, Audrey,” she sobbed.

  Peter stood close by. He edged over to Audrey, unsure if he should console her or stand aside and let the moment go by. She’d changed into a turquoise top and a tiny pair of jeans shorts. He seemed afraid to touch her in the outfit, but the girl reached out and pulled him in.

  Donovan was the odd duck. “Are my parents gone, too?”

  “Dude, I think all our parents are gone.” Peter reached out to his buddy.

  Tabby held them to her for as long as she dared. If the cordon wasn’t at Bonne Terre, and it wasn’t in Audrey’s town, then maybe it was up in St. Louis. It was the biggest city in the bi-state region and if anything was going to rescue them, it would come from up there.

  It took a lot of begging and promising, but she got Audrey and the two boys into her car again. Part of the deal was she would check at each of the boys’ homes, if only to confirm what they already knew.

  An hour later, both boys were back in the car, disappointed. Their houses and the surrounding neighborhoods were empty, too.

  “I’m going to get you guys to safety, okay? We’re going to find a police or fire station. Something has to be operational. They exist for these disaster situations. Does anyone know where one is?”

  No one could say for sure, but Tabby drove them through the outskirts of St. Louis County and eventually found a substation in a strip mall.

  After marshalling the kids to the front door like a mama bear and her cubs, she realized the next step was a big one. Either the police would be in there to restore their lives, or law and order was now gone.

  “Do we knock?” Peter chuckled weakly.

  Tabby looked inside the glass door, then pulled the handle. It opened easily, and she led the others inside. Several brown and tan uniforms appeared to have been spread out on the floor.

  “It happened here, too,” she deadpanned. However, she caught herself being a downer, so she kept talking. “But maybe we can find a radio to talk to someone far away.”

  “Or a gun,” Peter said with excitement.

  “No, we’re not—”

  “Found one,” the boy added.

  It wasn’t only uniforms on the ground. It was boots. Hats. Belts. And guns. Peter crouched over one of the piles and unsnapped the holster to free the big, black pistol.

  “Peter, no. You can’t take that.” She tried to sound reasonable, but it came off sounding a lot like her mom’s voice.

  “We’re going to need protection. You see what it’s like.” Peter pointed to the ground. “These guys are laying down on the job. It’s up to us to defend ourselves.”

  “But—” Tabby started to say.

  “If he is, I’m taking one.” Donovan and Peter both fidgeted with belts. At first, she thought they only wanted the guns, but they both pulled off their personal belts and replaced them with the carrier system used by police.

  “Well, cow flop,” Tabby said as she took a seat in the waiting area of the station.

  “You can say the word shit,” Audrey replied. “My mom says stuff that’s way worse. In fact, I heard her call my aunt the c-word.”

  Tabby shook her head. “Crackers?”

  “Yeah. Crackers.” Audrey came closer. “Hey, thanks for sticking with us and going to our houses. You didn’t have to do that, but I’m grateful you did. The three of us wouldn’t have known what to do.”

  “Yes, we would,” Peter said after overhearing them.

  Audrey spoke in a low voice. “Well, I wouldn’t.”

  “You should know how to take care of yourself.” She really did sound like her mom and dad. “But I guess we all do need to be our own police, at least until we get outside the evacuation zone.”

  “I can’t even drive,” Audrey said in a depressed voice.

  “Hell yeah!” Peter exclaimed, holding a big police shotgun. “No one mess with me. I’m Sheriff Peter! There’s one for each of us.”

  She sighed and considered whether she could make them put the guns away. Peter and Donovan held their guns pointed at the floor and seemed to know what they were doing. Maybe they could teach her a thing or two.

  Tabby accepted a shotgun from the excited high schooler.

  “Well, guys,” she declared, “let’s head back out. We can’t be the only ones left.”

  She hoped that was true.

  CHAPTER 28

  Chesapeake Bay, VA

  “This is it,” Carthager said, surprising Kyla from behind.

  The big man socked her on the back, and for an instant, she thought the Marine’s intention was to push her over the edge and into the churn of water far below.

  She stood on the rear edge of the main flight deck. It had come under heavy attack from whatever force was operating against them. A helicopter had crashed on the main landing strip, but she and others helped put out the fire. Now she was content to watch as they sailed from the James River out into the ocean-like Chesapeake Bay.

  “What is?” she replied, keeping herself composed.

  It had been about an hour since they’d escaped the dock. Most of the skeleton crew was busy keeping the ship running, but Kyla was the odd woman out. Her programming was done and working. The captain had given her a small walkie talkie and said to expect oddball assignments no one else had time to do, but so far, the line had been silent.

  “Once we get past the bridge, we’ll be free and clear of any land-based threats. We’ll be out on the ocean, where a ship this big belongs. Then me and my boys can go fuck up some other shit.”

  “You aren’t staying?” she said with surprise. “I mean, we’re going to need protection.”

  The sergeant laughed. “You still got that pop gun I gave you?”

  She reached for it, intent to hand it back, but Carthager stopped her.

  “Keep it, sister. You’re going to need it. You know, just in case there are imposters here.” He winked, which Kyla didn’t know how to interpret. Did the other Marine inform this one how Ben was working for the enemy? Were they keeping her under surveillance because she’d worked with Ben?

  Carthager turned to walk away, but he halted abruptly. “Oh, I meant to tell you. Meechum was asking about you. I think she’s on the prowl for some female companionship who isn’t a Devil Dog, if you know what I mean?”

  She perked up. “Really?”

  “Yeah, she said she was impressed with how you pulled that dude to safety back in the hangar. Shit, I’m not your Tinder app. Go see her in the hangar.”

  Kyla stood on the landing deck for another fifteen
minutes as they sailed between two small islands. The Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel was a trestle-style roadway built a few yards off the surface from horizon to horizon, it seemed. When it reached the islands, the road went into an underwater tunnel so big that ships such as the John F. Kennedy could cross.

  No bullets came at them.

  No rockets.

  Nothing.

  She watched another few minutes, to be sure, but it looked as if they’d made it to open water.

  Then, no longer able to stand the curiosity as to why the gruff woman Marine wanted to see her, she spun around and went over to the stairwell—ladderwell, as Meechum would call it—and went down.

  She found the Marine sitting on one of the little trucks, along with the rest of Carthager’s squad. The squad leader gave her a nod, then got back to talking with one of his team.

  Meechum sat by herself.

  “Don’t be a dweeb,” Kyla thought. “Go up and talk to her.”

  She’d gotten along with most people she’d worked with in her short career, but the long hours and military lockdowns didn’t give her much of a chance to make new friends. Socializing with someone like the tough-as-nails Meechum would be far outside her comfort zone.

  But now… After staring down death, she was willing to take chances.

  “Uh, hello,” she said, instantly hating her opening line for starting with an uh.

  Meechum looked up, seemingly unsurprised to see her. “Sorry for kicking you in the face, dudette. The bruise looks nice.”

  Kyla touched the swollen cheek while she glanced at what the woman was doing there. Parts of a handgun were spread on the adjacent seat.

  “Thanks. My real name is Kyla. I was wondering… Well, I know we’re at war and all, but I’d like a friend, too.” On reflection, she sounded more like a high schooler than a college graduate.

  Meechum glared at her. Her helmet was off, so Kyla got a good look at her short blonde hair and penetrating blue eyes. Her immediate impression of her without all her gear was a fairytale princess who hunted the wolf, shot it, then ripped out its heart with her bare hands.

  “Is this a joke? Did those dickheads put you up to this?” She pointed to Carthager and the rest of the boys. The squad leader did his best to “talk” with his companion, but several of the others snickered.

 

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