When Kyle reached the building he showed the collar of his jumpsuit like it was an ID and was allowed inside. He caught up with Maria as she moved up the stairwell. It was just the two of them. They reached the top floor where there was only one door. She withdrew a key from around her neck and unlocked four deadbolts. Kyle waited next to her; she still had not acknowledged his presence. They entered into a large, sparsely decorated apartment. It was open with no bedroom. The only private room was a small closet-sized bathroom in the corner. The furniture and kitchen were old, but clean. Red emergency lights lit up this space as well. In the corner was a young boy hooked up to machines lying in a hospital bed.
“You okay, baby?” she said, her voice soft. A moment later it was like a switch went off in Maria’s mind, and she spat, “I’ll slit that nurse’s throat for leaving you.”
Kyle shut the door and took up a spot next to Maria as she checked on an antique backup battery system. The young boy had dark hair, skin, and eyes like his mother, except his eyes were wide with fear.
After a moment Kyle asked, “Cerebral palsy?”
Maria didn’t respond and continued to check to make sure the boy was okay. Everything she had told Kyle about her son was a lie. In front of him was a scared mother caring for a sick child.
“Why the oxygen?”
“Feeding tube broke. While it was being fixed I had to spoon-feed him baby food. He’s not used to it and he’s been fighting a pneumonia from food getting into his lungs. I’ve run several courses of antibiotics which have helped, but his O2 intake has been poor.”
“You should have told me all this.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, choking up. “I was afraid you would report him.”
“How long will the backup battery work?”
“Not long.”
He checked the boy’s stats. The backup battery system running the equipment must have been a hundred years old.
“Why did you lie to me about your boy?”
“Charles said if anyone found out that he allowed my son to live, he’d have Rafael euthanized.”
Something changed in Kyle’s mind. Whatever guilt Charles was using to keep him there dissipated. He no longer felt obligated to stay. In fact, he had never felt the urge to flee so desperately. Matthew 24:16 floated into his mind: Then let them which be in Judaea flee into the mountains.
“We need to figure a way out of here,” he said, “and I’m taking you two with me.”
She shook her head. “We can’t.”
Kyle didn’t respond, and Maria dropped to her knees and grasped onto his legs like a child begging not to go to bed. Tears poured down her cheeks, something he hadn't thought she was capable of doing.
“Please. We’ll never make it, and Charles will execute us. Rafael is not mobile and—”
“Maria, I can help the boy if I can get him out of here. Rafael has no future here.” He paused before adding, “You have no future here.”
“No, promise me you won’t tell anyone about him. Forget you were here, Kyle.”
“You need to trust me.”
Kyle rushed around the apartment looking for items they would need. Weapons, food, medicine. He found a pillowcase and loaded it with cans of food, a couple of steak knives for defense, and whatever unmarked medicine he could find. Maria followed him around the apartment like a wounded animal.
She grasped his arm but he waved it off. “Please, don’t do this.”
He ignored her and found what he was looking for. A rusted wheelchair.
A half hour later, Kyle checked on Charles again. The leader was awake and semi-alert.
Charles grasped Kyle’s hand and whispered, “Am I going to live?”
“Depends. If I can lock down this fever and keep an infection from setting in—”
Charles stared past Kyle to Maria and the child in the wheelchair. “You’re leaving?” Charles said. Kyle did not respond. “You gave me your word you wouldn’t leave me.”
“I’m not,” Kyle said. “I’m keeping my promise.”
“How so, doctor?”
“Because I’m taking you with me.”
In a matter of seconds, Charles’s expression went from anger, to confusion, to a smile. “Brilliant play on words, my dear doctor,” he whispered, dropping his head back onto the pillow.
“I’m serious. I can heal you once I get you to the Atoll. After that, I can arrange for transportation back if you want. But you need to get us transportation out of here, Charles.”
A blast rocked the building. Kyle laid himself over Charles. While he smothered the man, he said, “Charles, if you’re not coming then you must let me take them and go.”
“I need you to heal me, doctor.” He motioned for Kyle to lean in closer. “I’m scared.”
Kyle stood back up. “You’re scared because you’re of this world. I’ll do everything I can to heal your body, but you need to think about what comes after this life.”
Tears welled in Charles’s eyes. “I’ve carried out too many atrocities.”
“The damage you’ve done here can never be undone, but your sins have been paid for. It’s called Grace. All you have to do is ask Christ to forgive you.” Charles wiped his eyes with his sheet. “It’s that easy. Believe, Charles, and ask.”
A single tear streamed down the powerful man’s high cheekbone. “Doctor, what have you done to me?”
Kyle prayed for the battle that was going on in Charles’s heart. He grasped the leader’s hand and held fast. “C’mon Charles, I know you can do this. Choose life.”
Charles nodded and opened his mouth. “I do—”
“Kyle!”
There was an explosion, and something knocked Kyle on top of Charles. His left arm felt like fire, and when he rose, Charles’s face was covered in blood. Charles started screaming. Kyle moved, but his arm was unresponsive. The sleeve of his white jumpsuit arm was dark red with his blood, which had sprayed onto Charles. Huxley held a smoking pistol.
“Stop with your poison!” Huxley said. “You’re not taking him anywhere.”
Kyle dropped to the floor, knowing his blood pressure would drop fast. He realized how stupid that was as Huxley stood in front of him with a gun. Charles started screaming in hoarse, croaking shouts for Huxley to stop.
“He’s not taking you from me, Charles! It’s a trick.”
Kyle raised his good arm up and coughed out a response. “I can’t heal him here.”
“But I need him. We’re under full attack from New America.”
Charles reached out as if to take the gun from Huxley and spoke in a soft voice. “I’ll come back, I promise.”
“Stop talking like that,” Huxley shouted. “I ordered the nukes to launch.”
“You did what?” Charles said, trying to raise himself up from the bed. He fell back and shouted at the ceiling. “You fool. You’ve killed us all.”
Huxley took on the appearance of a kicked dog. “He’s poisoning you, Charles. We can win this. I need you here.”
“You fool!”
The building rumbled, and muffled explosions came from somewhere close outside. Alarms sounded again, and staff started to rush out of the room.
Huxley walked up and pressed the warm barrel of the gun to Kyle’s skull. “He’s poisoned you, Charles.”
Kyle’s heart pounded and he started to weep, knowing he would not see his wife and child again in this life. He raised his good arm as if to ward off the bullet.
The only weapon Kyle had left was the only real weapon he ever had. Prayer. In a hoarse voice he whispered, “The Lord rebuke you.”
Huxley paused for a moment. Kyle heard the deafening shot and fell down, covering his head with his hands, but there was no new pain. He opened his eyes to find Huxley had dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. Blood spilled out through his fingers. Behind him, Maria held a revolver with smoke coming from the barrel.
Huxley dropped his gun and crawled toward the bed. He used Kyle as a step stoo
l, climbing on and over him to get onto the bed Charles lay upon. Kyle lay there, just staring at Maria still holding the gun pointed in his direction. He raised his good arm and motioned for her to lower the pistol. She did.
Charles called Huxley every name imaginable. Huxley grasped onto his master’s body like a child holding fast to a teddy bear after a nightmare. Charles tried to push the man off the bed, but he would not move from his master’s side.
“Forgive me,” Huxley said over and over. Charles didn’t respond. “Please?” But still Charles tried to push the man away.
“Get off me, you fool.”
Huxley produced a fixed-blade knife and plunged it into Charles’s heart. Huxley screamed over and over like the knife was being plunged into his own body. Charles made loud gurgling noises before Maria took another shot, and Huxley fell flat on top of Charles, his wide eyes facing down at Kyle still sprawled out on the floor.
Maria rushed to Kyle’s side and helped him up. “We need to go.”
Kyle pointed to the boy in the wheelchair. “Get Rafael.” He rifled through the medicine cabinet near Charles. He dumped a bunch of meds into a rucksack and took one final look at the two men in the bed. It was a horrific scene. Huxley slumped over his master’s lap and a knife sticking out of Charles’s chest. The former leader was left with an open-eyed expression of horror on his face. Kyle wished he had never looked.
Chapter Twenty-Four
New York Subway System 2040
Josiah and Clarke jumped off the platform and entered a gloomy subway tunnel, using battery-powered headlamps as their only source of light. Josiah noted the faded numbers on rusted access doors along the tunnel.
“Be careful of the third rail,” Clarke said.
They searched for hours, several times backtracking. Josiah inspected several manhole covers before he found the correct one. Clarke handed a small crowbar to Josiah. The cover popped off, and from the darkness below came the smell of sulfur, like they had just opened a gateway into hell. Clarke put his hand over his mouth as if he were trying not to vomit.
“This is it,” Josiah said, waving his hand to fend off the stench. “The electric fire from the tram probably smoldered for days. It will be a long time before the smell dissipates.”
They climbed down the ladder and came to the door on the cement platform, the escape car sitting just below on the dead-end track, looking like an abandoned roller coaster. He tried his thumbprint on the door with the same unresponsive result. They tried to open the door with crowbars and even a hammer and chisel, but the steel entry was too strong.
Josiah had never seen the room, only the pictures from the builder who constructed it years prior. For all he knew, it was never even outfitted the way he specified, and the picture the builder showed him was fake. He should have gotten eyes on it to make sure the work had been done, but he'd never planned to use this last-ditch safe room. If evacuation was necessary, he assumed it would be by air from Sector One’s headquarters to one of his three compounds spread around the country: the family farm in New Hampshire, the villa in South Florida, or the hardened compound in Idaho. This safe room was an afterthought during a moment of fear when the wars picked up and the economy permanently turned sideways. Since then both situations had become the norm, and complacency allowed him to all but forget about the safe room.
“The door is bomb proof,” Clarke said, tossing the crowbar to the ground with a clang.
Josiah stared up into the darkness and prayed for an answer. “I was sure this is where I had to go.”
A subway car rolled overhead. Through the small manhole above he saw a flash. A spark from the electrified third rail of the subway.
Still looking up he said, “Clarke, does your stun gun have any charge left in it?”
Clarke unholstered the weapon and handed it to Josiah. He pointed to a blue light. “Those two bars mean I can discharge it two more times before it dies.”
Josiah turned the gun over in his hands before placing it on the ground and refocusing on the door. Below the silicon circle for the thumbprint reader was a smaller silicon circle. He jammed the crow bar into the smaller circle, breaking it with a pop.
“I need pliers, a knife, and a screwdriver.”
Clarke handed him a multi-tool, then lowered his head to add his headlamp’s light to the operation. Within minutes Josiah had two wires hanging outside the small hole. He turned his attention to the stun gun. He disassembled the gun with the screwdriver portion of the multi-tool. Next, he removed the gun’s electrodes and connected them to the two wires hanging from the door before handing the gun back to Clarke. He placed his thumb on the silicon circle again.
“Okay, on three press the trigger.”
“Won’t that electrocute you?”
“I think I’ll be fine.”
“You think?”
“Trust me. This should be more than enough juice to recognize my thumbprint and unlock the door before it overloads the motherboard.”
“Okay.”
“One, two, three.”
Clarke pressed the gun’s trigger with a click. It made a loud humming noise. A moment later it moaned like a dying animal. Nothing happened to the door.
“C’mon, come on! Give it the last discharge.”
Clarke fired off the gun and the circle under Josiah’s thumb lit up a sapphire purple. The door clicked and popped open a crack. Josiah dug his fingers into the lip of the extended door and pulled. It was heavy and creaked open like it was about to fall off the hinges. He stepped into the room and was surprised at how pristine it was. The headlamp lit up the space enough to showcase a myriad of old computers and metal cabinets. In the corner was a small incinerating toilet, a sink, and a cot.
Josiah pointed to a computer and laughed. “I forgot how much technology has changed since this place was built.”
“Is it any good?”
“I’ll find a use for what’s here,” he said, rummaging through the cabinets. “Here, hold open your pack.”
Clarke complied, and Josiah started filling it with items from one of the drawers.
“What’s that?”
“Some gold and silver coins. I had this safe room stocked with food, tech, weapons, and precious metals in case of a catastrophic incident like a nuke going off. It’s a temporary triage staging point.” He pointed to the other cabinet. “Take the bag over there and start filling it with items from the drawers. There should be preserved Mylar bags of survival food, medicine, and at least two handguns. Take everything you can carry.”
For the next half hour, they stripped anything they could carry from the room. The last items Josiah took were two antique data pads, which he wrapped in a towel and placed in the top portion of his bag.
He pointed to the open doorway. “Anyone who wants to scavenge the rest can have it. Let’s get out of here.”
After they climbed out the manhole, Clarke said, “What are you gonna do with this stuff?”
“I have no need for most of it. The meds, food, and coins you guys can have in repayment for all you’ve done.”
“That’s not why we helped you Josiah—”
Josiah held up his hand. “Of course. I misspoke. This is a gift. Use it however you want. For the clinic, maybe?”
Clarke nodded. “That works.”
The walk back was difficult with the heavy bags. Clarke dropped all of the meds, coins, and most of the food off at the clinic before continuing up to the street level. At one point, a few men tried to step in front of their path on the dark street. Clarke brandished one of the semi-auto handguns, and the would-be assailants walked away from the visual deterrent. When they returned to the apartment, Faith and the kids were shocked at the bags of preserved food. That night no one went to bed without a full belly.
After everyone was asleep, Josiah used one of the data pads to log on to the real internet using backdoors in Sector One’s servers. He downloaded as much pirated news as he could find on the hostile takeover of h
is company. It was ironic that his own Spotlight News reported the incident as a fire in the headquarters that left Josiah dead, but alternative underground media confirmed it was a violent takeover by Bradley with Josiah’s body never recovered. Conspiracy theories abounded as to Josiah’s whereabouts or if he was dead. Repairs had started on the building, and things were going back to normal with Lewis now the acting CEO of Sector One. The memory of rage and revenge crept back into his mind, but he was a new man. Regaining the businesses, power, and wealth were not the reason his life was spared.
Early the next morning, Josiah lay in bed with one of the data pads. He hit a Send button and a long moment passed before the antiquated piece of technology picked up a broadcast signal and someone responded.
A familiar face came online. “Rick?”
The young man wiped his eyes and blinked several times as if he did not believe who was on the other end of the broadcast. “Where ya been, boss man? I thought you were dead.”
“Tell me you've still been working?”
“As long as the funds are in place, I’ll be working.”
Josiah exhaled. “Good job.”
“I figured one of your relatives would reach out to me, but no one has.”
“I have no family,” Josiah said. A moment later he realized that wasn’t true. Clarke, Faith, and the kids were becoming family.
“Does anyone even know I'm out here working?” Rick asked.
“Thankfully for you, no.”
“What’s going on? I’ve heard about six different stories of what happened.”
“I'll fill you in later. I'm sending over formulas and schematics for you to review.” Josiah pressed a button on the tablet. “I think this is going to help with construction and expansion.”
A moment later Rick whistled as the info reached him. “I've never seen anything like this. Where did you get these formulas? If I didn't know better I'd say it was gibberish, but I see a vein of consciousness in this. How? Where?”
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