Looking over his shoulder, Albert searched for other hostiles. His gaze found the man with the shotgun. For a second, Albert thought the guy was going to raise the gun and fire at them, but instead the man simply dipped his head again and then corralled his family in the opposite direction.
There were still good people out here, people that just wanted to protect their kin. The end of the world drove some folks crazy, and Albert hoped he would never stop being sickened and disturbed by the evil that some people did in the absence of law and order. But the killing was starting to get easier and easier each time he pulled the trigger, and part of Albert wasn’t sure if his soul would survive this new world.
“Contacts!” Flint shouted.
Albert looked to the left side of the street and saw several men with rifles flooding out of a building. Bullets whizzed in his direction.
“Run!” Van Dyke shouted. “RUN!”
***
Charlize sat in the cafeteria watching her son eat lunch. She was still exhausted even after sleeping for five hours straight, but being able to sit and have a meal with Ty reminded her how lucky they were to have a roof over their heads, plenty of food, and electricity. Over ninety-nine percent of Americans were fighting for basic survival.
But if she was so damned lucky, then why did she feel so terrible?
Ty scooped a spoonful of vegetables into his mouth and looked across the room at Melinda Collins, the resident teacher at Constellation. Ten kids his age sat around a white table with her.
“You sure you don’t want to eat with your friends?” Charlize asked.
“Maybe tomorrow.” Ty picked at his food, eyes downcast.
Charlize knew how important it was for Ty to be around other kids his age, but selfishly she was glad he wanted to eat with her. She had tried to give him space and not press him on what had happened at the Castle. Seeing him like this made her wonder what horrors he’d witnessed. Ty had been too young to clearly remember the car wreck that had killed his father and left him paralyzed, but he’d been right there when Fenix executed Nathan. It was too much for anyone to bear, and she wished he would talk to her.
Glancing up from his food, Ty asked, “Do you have to work tonight?”
“Some, but I promise I’ll read to you tonight, okay?”
Ty picked up a carrot, dropped it, and then took a bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich instead.
Charlize finished her chicken salad and washed it down with a Red Bull. She knew it wasn’t good for her, but she needed the caffeine. Boots clicking on the tiled floor commanded her attention, and she turned to see Colonel Raymond crossing the room. He stopped at their table.
“Sorry to interrupt your lunch, Secretary Montgomery, but General Thor would like to speak with you in the situation room. President Diego will join later to brief you on another situation.”
Ty finished chewing and politely said, “May I come?”
“Not this time, sweetie,” Charlize said. “You have to go back to class with Miss Collins.”
The teacher was already corralling the other kids out of the dining hall.
“But Mom…” Ty began.
“I’ll be right there, Colonel,” Charlize said.
“Sounds good, ma’am, I’ll be waiting in the hallway.”
“Do you think General Thor found him?” Ty asked.
Charlize stood and grabbed the handles on his wheelchair. “I sure hope so.”
He was quiet for a moment, and then twisted around to look at her, his face solemn. “Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
She brushed her hand over his hair. “Sorry for what, sweetie?”
“I’m scared. I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m scared all the time,” he said.
“Don’t apologize. You should never be afraid to be afraid. Real men get scared, and anyone that says otherwise is not being honest.”
“I know, but I’m scared to be alone. I keep having these dreams where he comes for me. Sometimes, when I wake up and you’re not there, I think I’m still at the Castle.”
Charlize’s heart shattered into pieces. “Oh, Ty. I’m the one who should be sorry. The president needs my help for a little while, but I will come back. In the meantime, why don’t you spend some time with the other kids? Miss Collins will keep an eye on you. Maybe you’ll even make a new friend.”
Ty nodded his head several times. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’ll try.”
She kissed him on the cheek and watched him wheel across the room to Miss Collins and the children.
Exhausted but anxious for news about Fenix, Charlize followed Colonel Raymond back to Command. The room was bustling as usual. General Thor was waiting for her in the situation room. Colonel Raymond shut the door behind them.
“The remains of Sierra Team have been recovered,” he said as soon as she took a seat. “Their helicopter was shot down over a country road on the west side of Apache Peak.”
“Do we have any new leads on Fenix?” Charlize asked. A nice lunch with Ty and several hours of sleep had helped refill her depleted energy reserves, but her patience was already slipping away. Why couldn’t these men ever get to the point?
“Negative, ma’am,” Thor said. “We recalled our second Black Hawk to Buckley and are waiting for new intel.”
Charlize took a breath before answering. “I understand, General. Do not send out anyone else until we can confirm his whereabouts. We can’t afford to lose more good men and women.”
“Understood,” Thor replied.
“Anything else to report?”
“No, ma’am.”
Charlize wondered if this five-minute briefing was worth cutting her lunch short for, but she said nothing. Thor gathered his folder and walked out of the room with Raymond on his heels.
“The president will be in shortly,” Raymond said before closing the door.
Charlize sat alone in the room, mind racing. It wasn’t often that President Diego requested a one-on-one meeting, and her gut told her this wasn’t going to be about anything good. A few minutes later, the president walked into the room, offering a quick nod but no smile. Dressed in a suit with his dark hair slicked back, he looked more like a mobster than a politician. General Thor returned to the room with him. Next came Doctor Peter Lundy, the head scientist at Constellation.
So much for this being a one-on-one.
“Good afternoon, Mr. President,” she said, standing.
He nodded and dropped a folder on the table. Thor and Lundy took a seat across from Charlize, and Diego sat at the head of the table. He passed over a confidential folder to Charlize, and she quickly broke the seal.
“Read the first page. Then I’ll go into more details,” Diego said.
Charlize thumbed to the opening of the memo, anxious to see what had the president on edge. It only took her a few moments to read the front page, and she quickly realized his bad mood wasn’t from some disaster at a SC or the further spread of cholera like she feared—it was due to a major development in foreign aid.
“The People’s Republic of China is offering us quite the deal,” Diego said. “Five hundred ships full of heavy duty machinery and enough supplies to help us rebuild our power grid. They’re even including some new locomotives and equipment to help us get our rail system back up and running.”
Impressive, Charlize thought to herself. If anyone had asked her before the attack whether China would end up being one of their biggest allies and benefactors, she would have been skeptical at best.
“I’m sure you’re thinking the same thing I’ve been thinking since I saw this come in over the wires,” Diego said.
“That there’s a catch? That maybe China did have something to do with the North Korean attack?” she said.
The president ran his uninjured hand through his hair. “I’m not sure about the latter, although I’ve wondered. Thing is, why would China want our country to collapse? It hurts their economy. It would make no sense
to aid North Korea in an attack that would devastate the world market.”
“True, but an attack would also open the door for the Chinese to become the most powerful nation in the world,” Charlize said.
Lundy nodded. “She’s right. They stand to make trillions off helping us rebuild. But what choice do we have?” He looked to President Diego. “Sir, as you know, I’ve been tasked with helping get the power back on, but I simply don’t have the resources or logistics to do that on a wide scale right now. I was optimistic two weeks ago, but we’re running into so many unforeseen issues, especially the extreme violence on the highways and in the cities. Simply put, we need help.”
“That’s why we need to get our railways working again,” Charlize said.
“It’s not enough, Charlize, and we don’t have the time or resources or the soldiers to guard the rails,” Diego quickly said, cutting her off.
Lundy nodded. “It’s a great idea, but the President is correct.”
Diego looked down at his folder before talking. He might look like a low-level gangster gone to seed, but behind that façade was one of the smartest men Charlize had ever worked with. “The Chinese have promised to help us with our logistics safety issue,” Diego said at last. “Turn to page three.”
Charlize thumbed through the document and then bit her lip when she saw what was written on page three. Now the truth was starting to surface. In addition to sending material goods, the Chinese were also proposing to send fifty thousand workers to help repair the grid—and twenty-five thousand troops to support their crews.
“I want your honest thoughts,” Diego said. “Do you think they had something to do with the attack? Because if they did, and we open the floodgates to twenty-five thousand Chinese troops, then you can kiss our recovery efforts goodbye. We’ll be at war.”
Charlize looked at the ceiling, trying to digest the information. After a few seconds she shook her head, unsure. “I want to believe the Chinese are simply trying to help us, but I’m with you, sir, and I’m not ready to agree to a military occupation. It’s one thing to have British and French soldiers working alongside our own troops, but what are people going to do when they see Chinese soldiers on our soil?”
Diego folded his hands and leaned back in his leather chair, heaving a sigh. “I agree, but we can’t get the grid back up on our own. I’m afraid we might not have a choice. If we let the Chinese construction crews into the country, we could save millions of lives. At this point, I’m not sure we can say no.”
— 14 —
Boulders sheeted with moss and snow covered the side of Highway 34. Raven rode Willow, while Lindsey rode Colton’s horse, Obsidian. The beasts didn’t seem to mind the cold, but Raven did. And he really didn’t like the idea of sneaking up on John Kirkus at night, either. The preppers living up on Storm Mountain were a mixture of millionaires and backwoods rednecks, but they were all paranoid and armed to the teeth. Raven had a feeling they weren’t going to like a cop and a Native American popping into their neck of the woods at this hour.
Raven zipped his coat up to his chin and tightened the Shemagh scarf around his neck. Lindsey wore a fleece-lined hunter’s cap, scarf, and her Estes Park police all-weather coat. At least they were both prepared for the cold.
The only good thing about this mission was spending time with Lindsey. He had jumped at the chance to tag along, thinking that he might finally be able to charm her into agreeing to that drink. But tonight they weren’t joking around like usual.
Willow rounded a bend and the final roadblock along Highway 34 came into view. Several men and a woman Raven didn’t know were manning the post, rifles angled east toward the canyon walls. The roar of Big Thompson River rose over the click-clack of horse hooves on the asphalt shoulder of the road.
“I still think we should have waited until morning,” Raven said.
Lindsey didn’t bother turning in her saddle, but Creek looked up at the sound of Raven’s voice. He had stopped to mark yet another bush, painting it with piss before trotting onward.
“We don’t have time to waste,” Lindsey said. “Tomorrow we’re going to be needed in Estes Park, so tonight we need to secure a deal with Kirkus and his men to help protect this side of the valley from raiders. We can’t wait any longer.”
“Well, we could have at least had Colton drop us off. Save us the long trip.”
This time she did twist in the saddle to glare at him. “It’s only another three miles from here, Raven. I could run that far. We’ll be there by nine, and I’ll have you home before bedtime, I promise.”
Raven chuckled, possible innuendoes swirling through his brain. “Has anyone even been up to Storm Mountain lately?” he asked instead.
“Colton sent a volunteer to warn them of potential fallout right after the bombs. I think Don’s been up there a few times to scope things out, but Kirkus and his boys don’t really like visitors.”
“So I’ve heard.”
A bitter wind bit into Raven, and he hunched down as their horses slowed to a stop at the roadblock. Creek sat on his haunches, tongue lolling.
“Where are you two headed?” asked a thin, bearded man wearing a heavy coat. He looked familiar, but Raven couldn’t think of his name.
“We’re on our way up Storm Mountain, on orders from Chief Colton,” Lindsey said.
The other three people at the roadblock were wearing scarves or bandanas to cover their faces, something that made Raven uneasy. Hiding your face was never a good thing; it meant you were doing stuff you didn’t want to be seen doing—in this case, turning away refugees or shooting at people that might come back hell-bent on revenge.
The thin man scratched his beard and then looked back down the road. “It’s dangerous out there, ma’am, especially for a woman.”
“I’m well aware,” Lindsey replied.
The woman at the roadblock pulled her scarf down. “Mitch is right. We’ve heard some pretty atrocious things are happening in Loveland and Fort Collins.”
“She’s capable of taking care of herself,” Raven chimed in. He shrugged a shoulder. “Besides, she’s got me to watch after her.”
Lindsey rolled her eyes. “I’d rather rely on the dog. Let us through, Mitch.”
Raven remembered the guy with the beard now. He was a high school teacher with a drinking problem. They had spent the night in jail together a year ago. Raven hardly recognized him with the beard, though. He’d also lost about twenty pounds in the past month.
Creek was the first one around the concrete barriers. Raven used the reins to direct Willow through the gap after his dog. Every gaze focused on him and Lindsey as the horses trotted out into no man’s land. The golden glow of a gorgeous sunset divided the bluffs of the valley ahead, bathing part of the land in light and shrouding everything below the rocky cliffs with shadows. Raven wanted to be off the road before it got dark.
“Where’s the trail?” Lindsey asked.
“It’s a Jeep path about a mile before we get to Drake. Should be there in about fifteen minutes at this pace.”
“So let’s pick it up,” Lindsey said with a grin. “Come on, I’ll race you.”
Before Raven could reply, she grabbed the reins and gave Obsidian a good kick. The horse broke into a lope that quickly turned into a run. Lindsey bobbed up and down with her AR-15 slung over her shoulders.
Raven shook his head and whistled at Creek. The wind rustled Raven’s hair, which was hanging out below his cap, and stung his injured ear as Willow increased her pace.
“Let’s go, lady,” he said.
The horse fell into a trot. By the time she was running, Obsidian was a good two hundred feet ahead of them. Lindsey shot him a glance over her shoulder and grinned.
Raven hollered after her. “Slow down!”
It was too dangerous to be playing games on the open road. Willow snorted into the cold wind while Raven scanned the road for any sign of hostiles or refugees. The way was clear, and Lindsey continued to ride Obsidian
into the waning light at a breakneck pace. The river bubbled on the right side of the highway, clear water churning through the canyon. Raven loved that sound, along with the clean scent of cedar, but he was too on edge to enjoy it tonight.
The road turned ahead, providing a view of the minivan that he remembered seeing the night of the bombs when he had driven Sandra to Loveland to pick up Allie. The mountains swallowed the retreating sun, casting shadows over the entire valley. Raven made a clicking sound and pressed his heels to Willow.
You want to race, fine.
He sat up straight in the saddle, kept his heels down, pelvis tilted forward, and his butt relaxed as she picked up speed. In moments, the horse was moving at an all-out gallop on the side of the road along the river’s edge. Creek wouldn’t be able to keep up for long, but they weren’t going much farther. The road continued to twist, and the trees along the shoulder blocked his view around the bend. Lindsey moved out onto the asphalt and rounded the corner, vanishing from sight.
What the hell? Is she trying to impress me, or has she lost her mind?
He gave Willow her head, riding low over her neck. The mare was fast, but Obsidian was faster. The freezing wind bit Raven’s exposed skin and worked its way into his ear. Now he was just mad.
“Goddammit, Lindsey,” he cursed.
Willow tore around the trees and onto the road, hooves clicking on the concrete. By the time Raven saw Lindsey, she had brought Obsidian to a halt on the side of the road under an umbrella of pine trees, a wide grin on her freckled face.
“I thought you’d put up more of a fight,” she said as Willow slowed to a trot. Then she pointed at a gated trail to the left of the road. “That’s the way up, right?”
Raven settled back in his saddle. “Yeah, that’s it.”
He took a moment to scan his surroundings. The dog caught up a few minutes later, tongue hanging out and panting in the cold air.
Trackers Omnibus [Books 1-4] Page 69