The Fracture - The Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: No Sanctuary Series - Book 3

by Mike Kraus

  With the death of Namazi another lead connected to Omar is gone. Another thread and another clue is irreparably removed and there is nothing she can do to fix it.

  Linda grabs the steering wheel with both hands, squeezing until her fingers tingle and her hands are white before she lets out one short, shrill shout.

  “Dammit!”

  Chapter 11

  “Hey!” The officer shouted at them again and advanced a few steps. “Did you hear what I said? I need to see the admission papers from you two!”

  Linda was about to step forward and reply, but Frank took her by the arm and held her back. “Let me try.” He whispered in her ear and immediately stepped in front of her, giving the police officer a big smile.

  “Hello there, officer! I’m sorry but we’re just out for a walk.” Frank looked back at Linda and gave her a quizzical look. “Did you remember to bring our papers?”

  Linda patted her pockets and jacket and shrugged. “Ugh, I think I forgot.”

  Frank turned back and gave an exaggerated shrug of his own. “I’m sorry, officer. We’d be happy to take you back and get them.”

  The police officer’s eyes narrowed. “Travel anywhere outside of your domicile without your admission paperwork is strictly forbidden. When did you arrive here?”

  Linda was about to reply when Frank cut her off. “Arrive? We’ve lived here for about five years now.” The officer’s gaze shifted between Frank and Linda and his right hand relaxed slightly as he kept it resting on his holster.

  “What’re your names?”

  “I’m Frank, this is Linda.” Frank took a half-step to the right and turned to gesture to Linda. He noticed that her right hand was still behind her back and quickly stepped back in front of her.

  “Where’s your place?”

  Frank turned and pointed back the way he and Linda had come from. “Lawton street, last house on the left.” The officer looked down the road and rubbed his hand across his nose, considering what Frank was saying. Frank could see the man wavering as he tried to decide what to do and decided to press the issue slightly further.

  “We’ve been so cooped up in the house that we just plain forgot about the papers. I’m really sorry, and like I said we’d be happy to take you back there to get them and show you.”

  The police officer looked at Frank and Linda and sighed as he shook his head and took his right hand off of his holster. “No, don’t bother. But you two need to get back right now and make sure you never leave without them. If those military assholes stop you then you’ll be looking at the inside of a cell until they strip search you and stick needles in your arms enough times to be satisfied you’re not carrying a virus.”

  Frank smiled again and stuck out his hand. “Thank you so much, officer. I really appreciate it.”

  The police officer took Frank’s hand and shook it, then touched the brim of his hat as he looked at Linda. “Ma’am. You two have a nice day.”

  The officer took a few steps back before turning around and heading back to his car, glancing around as he did. Frank kept still with a smile on his face until the car had started and was out of sight, then turned to see Linda still had her hand behind her back.

  “Seriously?” Frank hissed at her before turning back to the tree to grab his backpack. “You were going to shoot him?”

  Linda lowered her arm and shrugged. “It seemed better than letting him take us in.”

  “Yes. Great idea. Shoot your gun off in the middle of a military-controlled city. And kill a cop. What could possibly go wrong?”

  Linda was quiet for several seconds before she, too, reached for her backpack to put it on. “You did well there. I’m impressed.”

  “Mom always said I was a people person.” Frank snorted as he adjusted the straps on his bag. “Can we just get out of here now? Maybe stay away from the roads since we don’t have whatever the hell ‘admission papers’ are?”

  “Yep.” Linda pointed off across the field. “We’ll head that way. The terrain looks rougher but the annex is straight that way. We can stick to the woods and backyards as long as possible.”

  Frank didn’t say anything else until they were safely in the woods, and even then he kept his voice low for fear of drawing unwanted attention. “What’s with the admission papers thing anyway? Have we devolved to Nazi Germany levels already? That’s terrifying.”

  “It sure sounds like it, doesn’t it?” Linda shook her head. “It’s probably how they’re keeping track of people who’ve been cleared by the patrols for any biological contaminations and just to make sure they’re supposed to be here. My guess is that it was set up by the feds and they’re tasking all local law enforcement with performing random checks.” She gave Frank an odd look. “How’d you come up with that street name, anyway?”

  “I noticed it while we were walking by and it stuck in my head for some reason.”

  “Yeah, but that was quite a risk, telling him we lived on a nearby street. What if he had taken us there in the back of his car?”

  Frank chuckled. “That would have been the point to start shooting.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind if we get stopped again.” Linda smiled at Frank’s joke before her face fell again. “You’re right about one thing, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This is terrifying.”

  ***

  High wooden fences separated the backyards of the stately homes from the overgrown woods behind them. Located less than a mile from the CIA headquarters Frank had expected the entire area to be well-manicured and show signs of… something. As he thought about it he realized he didn’t know what he had expected. An affluent, relatively normal-looking neighborhood right next to the spy center of the United States was definitively not it, though.

  There were signs of activity in nearly all of the homes they passed but the soldiers had not yet gotten to the point of setting up shelters that close to the CIA’s headquarters. Eventually, though, a reinforced fence would go up around the building and shelters would be built up to that point. Every square inch of free space in the cordoned-off area was to be used for shelter except the most vital portions that ensured some form of governance continued.

  Truth be told, though, the governance that still existed was merely a shell of what it had been only weeks prior. The façade of ordered chaos within the survivor cities was necessary to keep the civilian population from panicking any more than they already were. Federal and state resources were stretched past their breaking point and any further disruptions would ensure that there would be no recovery from the attacks.

  Every possible stop was being pulled out to keep life inside the cities as normal as possible but those in charge knew it would only last so long. Direction from those higher up was nonexistent as all three branches of government were still reeling from the attacks. Trying to govern was impossible under the circumstances. Those who were watching the chaos unfold from the shadows knew this and were biding their time as they eagerly waited for the opportunity to unleash their final blow.

  While Frank remained relatively unaware of much of what was going on behind the scenes Linda’s mind was racing with a mixture of fact and fiction. Her years of service and pursuit of Omar had endowed her with a unique grasp of what the government and Omar were both capable of. She had initially expected the government’s response to the attacks to be far better than it was, though, and as each day passed she realized more and more that Omar’s plans had been an unmitigated success. This caused the same question to go through her mind over and over.

  What’s he going to do next?

  Chapter 12

  “You are ready?” The question posed seems simple. The taking of life is rarely simple, though, even to those who have been trained for years to take it without question. The taking of dozens or hundreds of lives is even less simple. To some it looks easy. Walk in, press a button, die a hero to a few and a villain to most. The truth is far more complex.

  “Yes.”
The answer is given without hesitation. Hesitation is weakness and weakness is culled without hesitation. “I am ready.”

  The asker of the question nods and pats the answerer on the shoulders before moving on to ask the same question of yet another. The man asking the questions is tall and slender with a long white beard and hair completely covered by a simple white keffiyeh. His tan robes brush against the floor as he walks. Splitting sandals filled with darkly tanned and calloused toes peek out from beneath the robes as he moves from person to person, each of them dressed far differently than he.

  Each of the thirty men being asked the same question is from the same region as the man with the robes but all hide their origins in different ways. Some shave their heads while others dye their hair and skin. Some are fairer-skinned than others thanks to their genetics and blend in naturally wearing blue jeans, a polo shirt and a windbreaker.

  Each of the thirty men—and dozens more like them in key areas across the country—have trained for the question for the last ten years. Each man arrived in the country at a different point in time and then slowly the men began to link up into groups of three and four. These cells were kept small and discreet on purpose to avoid detection by authorities. Of the nearly three hundred men in the country only six ever became involved in activities that attracted enough attention for them to be caught. The cellular structure of the men ensured that even when they were caught there was no possibility of them divulging the ten-year plan.

  Every six months the cells received a visit from their handlers. Some visits would be accompanied by new information and training regimens. Some visits were merely check-ups to ensure that the men were getting along and following the orders. For most of the ten years any orders that were issued to the cells consisted of seemingly mundane activities.

  Go to this location. Work this job. Begin this exercise routine. Move to this state.

  Issued from the top of the food chain and disseminated through a network of lieutenants, the orders remained mundane for years. Their chief purpose was to ensure loyalty and train obedience. The orders that were not mundane came in the final few months.

  The thirty men standing in a circle, each in normal clothing, look at each other. There is fear in every man’s eyes but that fear is overpowered by their sense of loyalty and duty and commitment to their orders.

  After the question is asked to each of the thirty, the man in the robes issues his final order, “Gather your tools and use them with righteous fury!”

  The thirty men obey the command without hesitation. Some pick up guns. Others carry small explosive charges in backpacks and satchels. Others carry knives. Two take no weapons but climb into large trucks, instead, each with reinforced bumpers and doors that cannot be opened with anything less than a wrecking ball.

  ***

  In the city of Pittsburgh the death toll is unfathomable. Bodies litter the streets and buildings and the survivors dare not leave their homes for fear of contracting the horrific disease that has laid waste to the city. The disease is incredibly lethal and fast-acting and cannot survive outside the human body for long, though. It burns through the population at speeds greater than any plague ever seen and then dies out just as quickly.

  Thunderstorms sweeping across the region do little to help with sanitation as the corpses in the street begin to swell and burst. Flooding is prolific and quickly overwhelms the city’s sewer systems, causing the water levels in the streets to rapidly rise. Bodies, trash and raw sewage are carried throughout the city streets and into the rivers that are overflowing their banks.

  Outside in the perimeter set up by the Army and Marines, the situation is more fluid than that of the rising flood waters. Patrol routes are constantly changing due to the water levels and there are gaps in the perimeter through which people and the remnants of the disease can escape. Drones—both land and air-based—are knocked out of commission by the water, leading to a forced delay in the search for survivors.

  The delay and disruption caused by the rains is a boon to the thirty men. They had originally planned on having to smash through the perimeter to bring down even more horror upon the city but they are able to slip in unnoticed in between patrols. They no longer fear the disease that ravaged the city both because it has burned out and because even if they somehow become infected they won’t live long enough for the disease to do them much harm.

  Chapter 13

  “Dammit!” Frank jerked his arm around towards his chest, hearing a tearing in the fabric of his jacket. Linda stopped ahead of him and turned around to see what was going on and raised an eyebrow.

  “You okay there?”

  Frank picked at the tear in his jacket before sighing and taking off his backpack. “Yeah, just give me a second to put a piece of tape over this. Stupid fence.”

  The fence Frank was referring to was a tall length of chain link that wrapped around the perimeter of the annex building, the building’s parking lot and the small grassy areas and pond that sat next to it. The fence sat a couple hundred feet from the building at its closest point which was near the edge of the parking lot. A nearby dumpster provided the perfect aid for Linda to scale the fence first and land gingerly on a car parked just a few feet away. Once she was safely across Frank went next, but in his rush to make sure his backpack didn’t get caught on the top of the fence he inadvertently got his jacket snagged instead.

  Linda walked slowly back to Frank, taking it easy on her leg as the pain had started to return. “Are you hurt?”

  “Nah. Just my jacket.”

  “Good.” Linda looked back at the building as she leaned against a nearby car to take the weight off of her leg. “When you’re done we’ll keep going.”

  As Frank pulled out a roll of duct tape he had stuffed into his bag a day or so earlier, he watched Linda carefully. She was sweating profusely, breathing hard and kept her right hand hovering near the wound on her thigh as though she was subconsciously protecting it.

  “How’s the leg?” Frank mumbled as he tore a piece of tape with his teeth.

  “Probably should have walked around to find an easier way in.” Linda touched her leg gingerly and winced. “It sure doesn’t feel great.”

  Frank slipped off his jacket and put a few strips of tape over the tear. He put the tape away, put his jacket back on and picked up his backpack. “Come on.” He reached for Linda’s backpack and began pulling it off of her back.

  “What are you doing?” Linda tried to grab her pack but Frank had already gotten it off of both arms before she could stop him.

  “You need to stop for a while and rest. I don’t think this is the best spot, though, so we need to get you inside.”

  “Frank… honestly I’m fine. Really. Just feeling tired.”

  “You’re still fighting an infection. That much is clear. You need to get inside so you can get some rest.”

  “Frank—” Linda tried to argue with him but she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her and she nodded. She had been fighting how she felt for the last couple of hours out of pure stubbornness but she could no longer deny the fact that something felt wrong inside her body.

  With Frank’s help Linda moved slowly towards the building. When they reached the front entrance Frank pulled on the door handle. To his surprise it swung open freely and he looked back at Linda in surprise.

  “It’s unlocked.”

  Linda shook her head. “Just for the lobby. The secure areas are farther inside.”

  The lobby of the building was dark and sparsely decorated and furnished, akin to a small business in an office park. A few paintings hung on the walls, limp-leafed potted plants were scattered about in the corners and there were a few thinly-cushioned chairs sitting across from the receptionist’s desk.

  Frank stood in the lobby for a few seconds with Linda at his side before a ragged breath from her drew his attention back to her situation. “Here, sit down.” He guided her into a seat in the corner and put her pack at her feet.

&nb
sp; After digging his flashlight out of his bag, Frank helped Linda slide her pants down and peeled back the bandage on her leg. The wound was slightly inflamed and red but didn’t look bad enough to be causing her symptoms. He probed around the wound with his fingers, watching her for any reactions.

  “Hey!” Linda pulled her leg away and swatted at his hand. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “How much does that hurt on a scale of one to eleven?”

  “Bad enough that I’ll punch you in the mouth if you do it again!”

  Frank sat back and ran a hand across his head and down the side of his face. “It honestly doesn’t look that bad. I’m no medical expert but I wonder if the infection moved somewhere else. Or maybe it’s just deeper in your leg.”

  “I know how to shoot things, Frank. Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Frank put his hand to Linda’s forehead and nodded. “You’ve got a fever. Looks like your ‘recovery’ back at the house was only temporary.”

  Linda shook her head. “Never mind that. Let’s get moving. Sarah’s office is upstairs and we need to see if she’s there.”

  Frank looked up at the ceiling. “Given that the lights are all off I sincerely doubt anyone’s here.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We still need to check.”

  Frank squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his thumb and index finger against them until his photoreceptors started triggering and bright lights appeared on his vision. He suddenly wished that he had stayed on the road to Texas instead of coming back to help Linda given that her plan—which had been flimsy from the start—was rapidly falling apart.