Pipe Dreams
Page 29
In minutes, they crossed the lake and arrived at the military base. Two Humvees waited for them at the water’s edge. Scrambling out of the boat, they divided and climbed inside the vehicles. The drivers turned the ignitions and put the motors in gear. “Hold on,” Bill yelled to Ashley. She found a handhold and wedged her body against the sidewall. The Humvees leapt to life, tearing up the embankment and fishtailing as they peeled out onto the asphalt surface of a small road. The road curved, entering a dark forest. Towering trees blocked the sky. At an intersection, they turned right onto a dirt track. Their bright lights illuminated the tree trunks that whizzed by as they sped through the forest.
The road was bumpy and rough. Ashley bounced around like a rag doll. Occasionally, the driver slammed on the brakes and she went flying forward. When he accelerated, she slid back. Finally, they pulled onto a paved, two-lane road. They traveled several more miles before slowing. Then, they cut across an open field and came to a stop.
Under the glare of giant, portable lights, soldiers erected large, canvas tents. An array of army vehicles were parked in a haphazard line to their left. A semi-truck, painted dull green, dominated the view. As they exited the Humvees, a door opened on the side of the semi. A uniformed man stepped out. He descended a series of metal steps and jogged toward them.
When he stood in front of them, the SEALs saluted. He returned the gesture and broke into a broad smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it,” he said.
“With minutes to spare, Sir,” Malone replied. They exchanged a handshake and then both men looked at the ground.
“I’m sorry about your team,” McGrath said.
“Thank you, Sir.”
The colonel narrowed his eyes when he registered Ashley. “I see you’ve brought a guest. What’s your name, young lady?” he asked. Bill stepped forward, speaking for her.
“This is probably the toughest young woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to know.”
“Is that so?” The colonel extended his hand. Ashley ignored it and he dropped it, raising an eyebrow at Malone.
“I’m Colonel McGrath and if the SEALs think you’re okay then you’re alright by me.”
“Is this your fault?” Ashley asked, meeting his eyes.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“This. The bombs. Tearing out of there like we did. Don’t you know there are people back there? Innocent people?”
“Look, there was no other choice. The virus was released. Do you want everyone to be infected? I’m not any happier about it than you are, but it’s necessary. I’m sorry.”
Ashley frowned. In their rush to flee the island, she hadn’t considered all the possibilities. Like always, she had been rash.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t fair. I’m Ashley Duncan.”
“Forgiven. This isn’t easy on any of us. Out of curiosity, you wouldn’t be the same Ashley Duncan who belongs to Jeremy’s cell, would you?”
“Are they here? Are they okay?”
“Their fine and I bet you want to see them. Ashley, why don’t you come with me?”
She glanced at Bill and then followed McGrath across the rough camp. On the far side, a squat building spilled warm light through its multiple windows. They passed through a set of double doors and into a large room. Though no colorful crayon drawings graced the wall, the cafeteria was reminiscent of an elementary school. Long, white folding tables with attached benches formed neat rows. At one of them, a group talked quietly. Ashley gasped when she saw them. She broke into a run and crashed into Mariah’s open arms.
“Oh my god, girl! How the hell did you get here?” Mariah asked. Without warning, Ashley heaved a sob. While Mariah hugged her, Ashley reveled in her familiar scent and warm body. When Michael hobbled over, she pulled away, looking at him without speaking. He touched her shoulder and asked the question she dreaded hearing.
“Jeremy?”
She shook her head. Tears spilled and she did not wipe them away as she explained the circumstances of Jeremy’s death. “I’m sorry, Michael. I tried. We all tried. We couldn’t save him.”
Michael collapsed on a bench and put his head in his hands. Ashley was unable to speak. A rush of despair washed through her. Falling to the floor at his feet, she rested her head on his knees and allowed the hurt to happen.
CHAPTER 56
As word of Jeremy’s death traveled down the table, mouths opened and eyes filled. Some of the people turned away, digesting the news in solitude. Others chattered, the drama dominating their grief. Vanessa did not cry or try to comfort. It would violate Jeremy’s memory to fake sadness when, inside, she rejoiced.
Ashley was alive. From the moment Vanessa had first found her, naked and bloodied under the park bench, she had believed a connection existed between them. Ashley was the first to thaw a small piece of her frozen heart. Now, as the girl laid her head on Michael’s knees, a circle was complete. Vanessa would like to hold her hand and walk with her. In her fantasy, they would speak of small things – a bird, a book, a flower, or a crush – and as they walked, the last six years would disappear.
This would not happen. The touch they had exchanged in the park was rooted in a lie and Vanessa had never actually met the girl. She had seen her in passing, but only imagined knowing her. Still, Vanessa held the image as a picture of who she would have liked to be. She stood and slipped away from grieving group.
Outside the building, she gazed at the stars. Like the vast night stretching before her, the future was unknowable. She was flotsam in a pond or dust in the wind. Though her circumstances had changed, her lot had not. Someone else would choose what happened to her. It would be McGrath or his superiors who would tell her where to go and what to do. Currents carried her and she had no control. Yet she was not the same woman she had been. Vanessa had remembered who she was born to be. Regardless of what tomorrow would bring, she would not forget again.
Colonel McGrath was leaning against the mobile command post, smoking a cigarette. Crossing over to him, the pungent fumes made her cough.
“Vanessa,” he greeted her.
“Colonel,” she replied. The silence that followed was uncomfortable. He finished the cigarette and ground it out on the heel of his shoe. Then he tossed the butt away, as if it was a bug he had plucked from his shirt. Withdrawing a box of mints from his pocket, he took one and offered one to her. Vanessa declined. Instead, she voiced the question that had been gnawing at her since the evacuation was ordered.
“What will it be like when the bombs explode?”
“Why do you want to know?” he asked.
“I just do.”
The colonel hesitated, examining her face. He moved the candy from one side of his cheek to the other, stalling. Finally, he relented.
“Fuel Air Explosives are the closest things we have to nuclear bombs. They’re monsters. They have two charges. One releases fuel into the air. The other ignites the fuel and causes the blast. When the blast happens, it will draw in all surrounding oxygen, creating a kind of vacuum or pressure blast. The bombs will destroy everything on the island. There won’t be a building standing,” he said. Vanessa shifted her weight. She didn’t care about buildings.
“What happens to the people?”
“Vanessa, it doesn’t matter. They’re going to die.”
She grabbed his arm. Didn’t he know she had dreamt this moment in countless waking hours? Every time she had been violated, she had willed it. Every repulsive thrust of tongue in her mouth or hips against her buttocks had inspired the apocalyptic visions that kept her sane. She had prayed for this day, for the vengeance that was hers. She would have the details of their destruction.
“Please, Colonel. I need to know.”
He shook his head and breathed in through his nose. Exhaling, he met her eyes. “Revenge isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be, Vanessa. It does something to people. Twists them. Let it go.”
“No, Colonel. I can’t! You don’t understand
. You don’t know what it was like. Please, you don’t how much this matters to me.”
He cleared his throat and spit out the candy. It trailed in a long arc and disappeared in the grass. Then he looked across the field toward the forest. Turning back to her, he sighed.
“There’s more speculation than actual knowledge. Anyone at a blast point will incinerate. The pressure wave will kill most of the remaining population. The intensity of the wave ruptures lungs, inner ears, and internal organs. It causes severe concussions and blindness. Anybody not killed by the fire or the pressure blast will die just from inhaling the fuel.”
“How fast does it happen? Will they know what’s happening to them?”
“It depends where they are when the bombs explode. If they don’t burn up in the blast, they’ll probably….” He stopped, turning away from her. “I don’t want to think about this, Vanessa!” he growled. She squeezed his arm, tugging on it like a child. She couldn’t help herself. He tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let him.
“Colonel, do you know what it’s like to be whipped? Do you know what it is to be humiliated, tortured, and raped? How about being beaten so badly you can’t move and you have to anyway because if you don’t show up for work it’ll be worse? I can’t tell you how many times they did this to me. It wasn’t once, twice, or even a dozen times. Six years, Colonel! Six years of torture and despair. My only salvation was in believing that one day this would happen. I need to know!”
He shook her off, pushing her shoulder with his left hand. His wedding band glinted in the light from the open, truck door.
“Colonel, if they did this to your wife, would you want to know?”
His head snapped back and his mouth opened. Then his shoulders dropped. He was silent for several seconds. Then, he heaved a ragged breath and stared at her with sad eyes.
“Yes, Vanessa. I would want to know. I would want to see it. And yes, they suffer. They suffer horribly. I don’t know why, but the shock waves cause minimal damage to the brain. They’re probably conscious while they’re burning, or while they suffocate. They could be alive for several minutes, depending on where they are. But Vanessa, we’ve never released this many on a single target. The reality is I don’t know what’s going to happen. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
He walked away. She let him go. He faced the lake beyond the horizon, dropped his head, and clasped his hands as if praying. After a moment, he lifted his head to the sky. Vanessa followed his gaze. The bombers were coming. She could not see them yet, but she heard them. Her heart quickened.
What was about to befall was her blessing and release. She pushed aside thoughts of the innocents who would die. They, too, would be freed as the men who abused them suffered the horrors of this vehement malice. Clenching her fists, she imagined herself a witch, stoking a fire, stirring a cauldron, and cackling with glee. The wind and waves had been summoned. The gates of hell would open. Her wrath would rain down on those who had ravaged her until the sky was filled with their anguished pleas.
The low rumbling built to a crescendo as the first planes passed over the camp. The soldiers dropped their tools and stared up at the sky. A presence behind her caused her to turn. Vanessa’s heart contracted at the sight of Michael. In spite of his crutches and awkward stance, he was lithe and beautiful. Tempted to reach for him, she did not. This moment was hers.
She ran from him, craving solitude. Across the field and away from the lights of the camp, the dense forest was still. Tall trees towered over her, obscuring any view of the lake. The scents of moss, rot, and pungent pine were titillating. It was cold, yet the chill air did nothing to diminish her boiling blood. If anything, it stimulated her senses. She felt every soft hair on her arms, every pore of her skin. Looking up, the bombers blotted out the stars. Their engines were deafening and she thrilled to the sound. The roar was her fury unleashed, her vengeance at hand.
Then, as fast as they came, they were gone. The distant drone of their motors silenced the world. Not even a cricket chirped. Her knees went weak. Her palms were damp. Her mouth was dry. The devastation was unstoppable. Though she had hungered for it, she was awed by it.
Vanessa threw back her head and opened her arms, screaming into the trees. Her voice was a wail of rage and grief against all the years, and lives, and deaths. It was the voice of a little girl who fell off a slide, a daughter who lost her father, and a woman who faced her own scarred and blackened soul. The scream was all things human, all waste and greed and love and loss. Not the incantation of some vicious witch, it cried into the night, a terrible, haunting plea for an unknown and unnamed desire.
Hot tears streamed down her face as the sky turned bright as day. The ground shook. In the thunderous din, she imagined trees falling and buildings crumbling. A blast of particle filled air smashed into her and she shook like a sapling in a gust of wind. High in the sky beyond the forest, an enormous cloud glowed white, orange, and pink. The entire horizon was on fire, backlighting the trees with a deep and menacing red. The branches were black and gnarled in the dull light. Dust and debris clogged the air. Vanessa choked on it, gagging. She had wanted this, but the scope of what she witnessed was staggering. She fell to her knees. Digging her hands into the damp soil, she tried to stop her body from shaking.
All the years of waiting had come to this. Alone in the dirt, under a furious sky, she sobbed uncontrollably, the tears a dam breaking. Emptied, she lay face down and felt the coursing life beneath her. Tendrils of grass and rich, loamy earth caressed her skin. For the first time, Vanessa was whole. No one would determine her fate again.
She stood, wiped her hands on her jeans, and faced the camp. Taking a breath, she stepped forward. The ground was firm under her feet and the stars were becoming visible. Voices called out as hammers pounded thick, iron spikes and electric generators hummed.
She started to walk toward the noise and lights, knowing Michael would be waiting for her. Then she stopped. According to McGrath she was already dead. If she went back, the Army would dictate her life to keep its secret. How could she let that happen? How could she give herself to Michael if she wasn’t truly free?
She shook the hair off her shoulders, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. Then she braved a different path. As the camp faded into the distance, Vanessa’s steady footsteps matched the beating of her heart. Finally, she understood. The Kovalic name was more than a legacy. It was a promise she vowed to keep.
THANKS FOR READING
I hope you enjoyed this book and wanted to let you know the story doesn’t end here. I won’t tell you what’s going to happen next, but I’m excited. If you liked Pipe Dreams, you will be too.
To receive updates on new releases, please visit my website and sign up for my mailing list. To check out my other books, visit my Amazon Author Page. You can also reach me at destinyallison@aol.com. I love hearing from readers, answer every email, and welcome your thoughts and comments. Thanks again for joining me on this adventure and all the best,
Destiny Allison
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
For reading, critiquing, offering insight, and encouragement, my sincere thanks go out to Ted Orland, Nancy Reyner, Gaye Pollit, Robyn Chausse, Ana Gonzales Lewis, James Annon, Andre Gensburger, Jay Kingery, Judy Allison, and others who read portions of various drafts. I couldn’t have done it without you.
I also extend my heartfelt gratitude to my cover designer, Ida Jansson and my editor, Alexis Gargagliano. Their professional skills were invaluable.
Finally, my deepest thanks go to my family. Your enduring love, support, and enthusiasm – even in the darkest moments – means more to me than I can say or show.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Destiny Allison is an award winning sculptor, businesswoman, and community builder, although writing was her first love. As her passion for the written word evolves, so does her subject matter. La
st year, she published Shaping Destiny: A quest for meaning in art and life. The non-fiction work is a memoir. In it, Allison reveals the truth that life is art.
Pipe Dreams is her fiction debut and a radical departure from Shaping Destiny. Other fictional works are soon to follow.
Allison lives in Santa Fe, NM with her husband and dogs, alternately missing and celebrating her three grown sons.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
Part Two
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49