The cop straightened his arms and readied his laser. Chase stood in the aim of the weapon.
Bear came out of the tunnel. One long scream rose from the big man as he ran. With his arms opened wide, he lunged at the cop. Cruiser turned and the weapon buzzed as the laser met its target.
Death seemed to claim Bear even before he fell backward and thudded on the pavement.
The code, thirty-two, seven, sparked from exoself, not by Chase’s instruction. It just happened.
The cop grabbed the sides of his head before he hit the ground. Blood trickled from his left ear.
Chase dropped to his knees beside the dead body of the man called Bear. Guilt flooded his mind until he wept. He looked at Cruiser. Someone had put an NP in him—Chase was sure of that. He reached over and clutched the man’s arm. The Wilberton told him the cop was dead.
“This is my fault.”
“Not true.” The voice was soft. “It’s not your fault Cruiser turned on us.”
Chase looked up to find Emmy standing with two young men from the secret world of the Underground Church. “I’m sorry. You will all have to get away from here. I’ll find you a place to go.” He turned his eyes to the ground. “I should never have come here.”
One of the men knelt next to Chase. “First, we get these men out of sight. Can you carry Bear’s body? You’re super strong, right? Sam and I will get Cruiser.” He motioned for the other man to come alongside the cop’s body. “Emmy, you get the weapon and anything else on the ground.”
“Got it.” Emmy grabbed the laser gun and stuck it in the waistband of her pants.
The two young men each took a leg and pulled the cop to the tunnel. Chase wiped his eyes and hoisted Bear over his shoulder. He carried him into the underground and laid him gently in the hidden room. People stood along the walls, some crying, and some singing.
“I’m so sorry.” Chase knelt to the floor. “I said they couldn’t track me, but they did. I’ll find you all a place to go, and then I’ll get out of here. You and your church will never see me again.”
The woman named Beth approached him. “Chase, what exactly happened? There are six guards out there in the tunnel doing nothing, and the cop who helped us is dead.” Her voice wavered and tears fell. “And our Bear is gone.” She sucked a breath and wiped her face. “Tell us what happened.”
Chase told the people how their leader came to die by the weapon of their friendly cop. “But this is because of me,” he said. “Why else would they put an NP in Cruiser and come down on this place now?”
“From the way it sounds,” Beth said, “you being here didn’t have anything to do with it. We’ve heard of other underground groups getting flushed out just in the last few days. Things are changing rapidly. Finding you here may just have been a bonus to whoever is behind all this.”
Chase couldn’t believe that. Not with Bear lying dead before him. But these people didn’t seem to blame him. “I destroyed the device they put in Cruiser, but my image may have gotten through.” He lowered his head and closed his eyes. “If they didn’t know where to find me before, they probably do now.”
Beth knelt beside him and cupped his face in her hands. “This is not your fault. I’m sorry you had to kill Cruiser. But you saved us from whatever he was going to do to us.”
“I delayed whatever he was going to do. Others will come, and soon.”
“Then turn on that stuff inside you and tell us where to go.” She stood and held out her hand. Chase let her pull him up. Candles were lit as more people came in. Whispers filled the place. And tears. But no one blamed Chase. Not one of them said a word against him.
The leader of these people and the cop who’d turned on them were covered with blankets and prayed over. The believers thanked God for the men, for their lives. They treated one as the other. No animosity showed for the man who wasn’t one of them. But when the prayer for Bear neared its close, the man praying laughed through his tears. And all those gathered with him smiled. Chase remembered his dream and those who died in the field under the blue sky. They’d flown away and Chase had laughed. Bear had gone home, and his friends were glad for him.
But the urgency of getting to that place in the dream and protecting Mel and his mother overwhelmed him. He had to get these people to safety, and he had to get to Atlanta International. He checked the time. Eight fifty four. Three hours.
Chase noticed a young girl carrying her little Bible in one hand and a candle in the other. He went to her and asked her to read the next Psalm. Thirty-one. The girl asked no questions, but opened the book and began to read.
It didn’t take long.
“’You have not handed me over to the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place,’” the girl read. “You have set my feet in a broad place.’”
“Stop right there,” Chase said. “Verse?”
“Eight.”
Chase wasted no time sparking the processor and pulling the number. “I’ve got it.” He didn’t wait for the exoself to give up the secrets of safe travel the world over in its normal orderly fashion. He and the exoself were coming to understand each other. Chase wanted only to know how to get these people out of Underground Atlanta, and he wanted to know now.
“How many people are here?” he asked.
“I think sixty-eight total,” the girl said. Her face fell. “Well, sixty-seven.”
He lifted her face and brushed the tear from her cheek. “Run and find Beth and Emmy, and tell them to gather everyone at the mouth of the other tunnel—the one that’s still boarded up.” He stood and looked at the young girl. “Hurry.” She got up and ran with her Bible still in her hand.
Things were happening in the exoself that Chase could not explain. He didn’t take the time to figure it out before he contacted the computer system of a corporation housed in one of the buildings somewhere overhead. This was the hacker who supplied power to the tunnel every night. This person, or people, had a bus. A big, old fashioned, gas powered bus. And the bus was fueled and ready to go.
“Where are these people getting gasoline?” Chase left that information trail and moved to the twenty-third processor. A grid of safe houses in the foothills of the Appalachians came up, and Chase linked to a system offering a closed private resort with thirty cabins deep in the wooded hills. The people gathered their meager belongings, their children, and as much food as they could carry, and assembled in the second tunnel to wait for the bus.
But Chase sensed something in the exoself. S-drones were coming. Three of them. He knocked the boards loose at the tunnel’s exit and stepped into the daylight.
The little planes hovered over the paved area outside the tunnels. They were no more than a foot wide. Their silvery shells gave them the look of old bullets. Big ones. Chase sparked the thirty-second processor. It had concealed the exoself when he’d first used it. But it was a weapon—he was sure of that now. He wasn’t sure, however, that he could control it. He focused on one drone. It dove straight into the tunnel and crashed, sending the people inside running back into the underground.
“Be careful,” Chase told himself. He set his eyes on another. It fired a beam at him, but he rolled to the ground unharmed. Then he brought the thing straight down. It blew to pieces when it hit the pavement. The third lifted and seemed to retreat. Chase blew it up anyway. “God help me. I don’t know what I’m doing or how I’m doing it. But thanks.”
He turned to the tunnel to find the people slipping back into view. “Is everyone all right?”
Beth came forward and motioned the others to follow her into the open. “We’re fine. That was quite a show, Chase. You rescued us again.” She smiled.
“There are more coming. The bus will be here in two minutes.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know. Get everybody onboard as fast as you can. You’ve got to get out of here.”
“You too, Chase. Come with us.”
“No. I’m going to the airport. I’m flying to New
York, and then I’m going to Quebec.”
“I wish you’d change your mind,” Beth said.
He looked her in the eye. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got a flight pack in the other tunnel. I’m ready to fly as soon as you are all out of here safely.”
She nodded, and he touched her hand. She turned to gather her people as the bus approached. Chase walked to the driver’s side of the old bus and the darkened window cracked open. A middle-age man smiled. “Here to pick up some folks moving north.” The man’s brow crossed, and he tilted his head. “Hey, aren’t you—”
“Name’s Chase. You get them out of here in a hurry. Understand?”
The man looked at the ruined S-drones. “What happened here?”
“Never mind. How fast does this thing go?”
“It’s an old bus. It moves like one.”
The last of the displaced believers loaded the bus. Beth stood at the door before she got on. Chase came to her, and she put her arms around him. “Go,” he said as a tear fell down his cheek. “Tell the driver to take 75 north. In a few minutes I’ll fly after you and make sure you get out of town without any more S-drones tagging along.”
“Chase, you’re a good man. You will be a help to many people.”
“I hope so, Beth. I hope I don’t cause so much death and destruction everywhere I go.”
She looked him in the eye. “You did not cause this, young man. You are our hero.” She smiled, and he kissed her forehead. “God be with you,” she said.
He nodded as she boarded. He waved to them all as they pulled away.
50
Chase ran into the first tunnel and grabbed his pack. He needed the face shield so he went back into the room where the bodies were left. A few candles still burned there.
Bear had become a fast friend. Chase would never forget him. He deserved a proper funeral, but there was no time. But maybe Chase could keep his friend—both these men—from rotting in this tunnel.
“The prayers have been said. I can finish this.” He tipped the first candle and it fell to the ground and smoldered there. He’d have to do better than that. He took the next candle and touched the flame to the edge of the blanket. “Good-bye, Bear. I don’t even know your real name.” Another candle lit the cover over Cruiser. “It wasn’t your fault, man. I’m sorry I killed you. I wish there could have been another way.”
With the room ablaze, Chase strapped on his mask, grabbed his gear, and carried one more candle into the tunnel. “Best to burn these too.” He tried to light the clothes on the cyber-guards, but the material didn’t burn. So he tossed the candle into the metal trash can. Refuse there caught fire easily, and Chase rolled the blazing thing down the tunnel. “This will keep city cops and rescue busy for a while.”
He went into the daylight and powered his flight pack. “Good-bye to Underground Atlanta. May you rest in peace.”
Flying north, he heard the sounds of emergency vehicles headed for the fire. No smoke rose yet from the underground, at least not enough to see from the air. Chase used the exoself to warn the source that had sent the bus. Their office had to be in one of the buildings he’d just flown over. He sent a message to the unknown computer system: Underground is on fire. Evacuate.
Inter-territory 75, at least headed out of the city, was open and the traffic moved at a good pace. Chase spotted the bus easily and dropped in altitude as he approached. He sensed no drones in the area, but three more were headed for the fiery underground. Seemed no one knew the believers were high-tailing it out of town. Maybe the forces investigating the fire would think they’d all died.
With the bus leaving the city limits, Chase turned and headed south, thinking about how he was going to get into Atlanta International and sneak on a cargo plane. Bear was right—it was a foolish plan.
But this Windsong person had to know what he was doing.
When he got there, Chase put his feet to the ground where other flyers landed. The entrance to the airport’s security arena was only a hundred feet in front of him. He’d never get in with his face covered. Even if he did, he wouldn’t make it past the scanners—his DNA would give him away. He stayed back as the other flyers put their pack in lockers and headed for the building.
“What do I do now? Give me some good news, exoself.” He sparked the processor and pulled the number for information on the last S—safe travel. Running through the program, he found the plane, and the pilot, Windsong. And he found the way in. A truck would load the plane in fifteen minutes. It was parked in a cargo building two miles behind the farthest runway. Chase would have to fly with his pack to the backside of the airport. He quickly strapped up, and he was in the air in record time. “I’m getting better at this.”
He couldn’t fly directly over the runways. He wasn’t sure he could fly anywhere near the airport, other than around the pad he’d just lifted from.
Fourteen minutes.
He flew five miles out and circled, then came down a mile from the buildings clustered at the back of the airport. He stayed ten feet off the ground and maneuvered through security pillars, sure he would be shot to pieces at any moment.
He made it to the twenty-foot laser fence surrounding the place. How would he get through this?
Six minutes.
He could see an open bay on the closest building. The truck inside hummed. A man came from around the truck and stepped outside. He looked around and shook his head before he turned and went back to the truck. This must be it—no other trucks were ready to roll. No bays were open but this one.
Chase summoned his exoself and viewed the phantom screen in his mind. “Can I breach this fence?” The number twenty-four fell into six strands of code. He walked to the fence as he put to use this latest discovery. Did Robert think of everything?
Five minutes.
The fence didn’t change, and Chase knew of nothing to do but walk right through. He was not stopped. There was no pain of electric shock, and no alarms sounded in the vicinity. The truck pulled out of the bay just as Chase ran to it.
The driver stopped. “Looking for Windsong?”
“Yes.” Chase stood at the side of the truck and looked up to the driver.
“I’ve got four minutes to get this truck to the plane. You couldn’t have gotten here sooner?” The driver reached and slung the passenger door open. “Get in.”
Chase followed the man’s order and climbed into the truck. He sat straight in the seat and faced the windshield. “I’m sorry.”
“Nice to meet you, Sorry. You’re not riding there. Pull down the seat back and crawl through.”
Chase didn’t say anything else to the man—he just did as he was told. He found the open space behind the seat led from the cab to the cargo section. Pulling his flight pack behind him and appreciating the night vision, he settled into a tight spot between tall crates.
“You got two minutes to find an empty crate and get yourself inside.” The voice from the cab of the truck was not any friendlier. The seatback slammed into place. Chase stood and reached for the top of the crate to his left. He forced the lid off and peered inside. No room for a man. He did the same to the crate on his right and got the same result. Moving quickly, he banged on crates until he found one that made a hollow sound. He threw the lid open, dove inside, and pulled the lid down. The truck came to a stop before he managed to catch his breath.
Soon voices surrounded him. He kept perfectly still and silent. The crate was lifted by a machine of some kind and practically tossed through the air. At least that was how it felt. And then all was quiet. But that didn’t last long. The engine of the fuel-cell jet started up, and Chase had a sudden rush of panic at the thought of being lifted into the clouds by the giant plane.
“Calm down,” he said under his breath. “You’re not afraid of this anymore.” He closed his eyes tight as he felt the plane leave the ground and climb with its nose pointed at the heavens.
As soon as the plane leveled, a strong but feminine voice called out. �
��OK, you secret servants of the Lord, you can come out. How many have we got this time? I’m guessing not too many, considering the location of our departure.”
Chase stood and pushed the lid off his crate. He looked around. No one else had popped up but him.
“Well, I guess you’re it, masked man,” the woman said. “Welcome aboard. Keep your seatbelt fastened and your tray in the upright and locked position.”
Chase stared at her. She tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder and laughed. “Just kidding. Do what you want. But can you lose the mask? It makes me nervous, and I don’t like flying when I’m nervous.”
“Who’s flying the plane right now?” Chase asked.
“It’s on auto.”
“Are you Windsong?”
“That’s me. Who are you? And seriously, take off the face shield.”
“Are you a believer?”
“Who’s asking?” She crossed her arms.
Chase pulled off the mask. “Are you?”
Her mouth came open, and her eyebrows rose. “Are you?”
****
An hour passed as the plane travelled north. Windsong promised to keep secret that she’d seen Chase Sterling. She was a believer, still in the system, and she moved as many people as she could with her cargo shipping business. Chase knew how he’d gotten on board—tricks he managed with the exoself. But he didn’t understand how the average person without credentials could get into a major airport and stow away on a plane subject to frequent inspections.
“Never tried it at a major airport until today,” Windsong explained. “I really didn’t expect anybody to show up, but my driver—the guy in the truck—said we should do it. He said he had a feeling. I told him he was nuts. Turns out he was right.”
“Where do you usually make your pick-ups and drops?”
“Small strips. I won’t try this again. I’m surprised I got away with it considering I’ve got a rogue, augmented superstar in my plane.”
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“Are you kidding? If there’s one thing I avoid, it’s attention.” She sat in the pilot’s seat. Chase sat beside her. “But you’ve got to tell me about it, Mr. Change Your Life.”
Wake the Dead Page 24