States of War

by Kevin Partner

  Bella offered Alex a bed for the night but, after a shower and a change of clothes, she elected to move on and get some miles between her and the TLX before nightfall. Bella watched as she drove up onto the highway and headed east.

  "We can't delay any longer," she said to Al as Alex disappeared among the abandoned cars and they made their way back to the settlement.

  "Well, Bertha's ready when you are," he responded.

  "Bertha? Is that what you're calling the RV?"

  A smile spread across his face. "Sure, why not? She's got to have a name."

  "But why Bertha?"

  "I knew a Bertha once," he said. "Fine figure of a woman. She could crack walnuts between her thighs."

  Bella put her arm around her father. "TMI, Dad, TMI."

  They returned to the makeshift canteen to find Skulls sitting down and talking to a big man in faded blue denims. Helm had been the right hand man in Skulls' operation before Al had arrived, and he'd been a sullen presence ever since. Skulls arranged for him and his partner to be out scavenging as much as possible.

  "Ah, you are here," Helm said. Despite having been a US citizen for over twenty years, his German accent was still unmistakable. "Please, sit down."

  "What's going on?" Bella said to Skulls as she took her seat. The big man simply shook his head slowly.

  The door opened and Maddie walked in, looking as pale as a ghost, followed by Luke who had his hands on his head. The lean figure of another of Skulls' gang was leading them in at gunpoint.

  "Come in, come in," Helm said, pulling a handgun from his pocket and waving the newcomers to the table. "Now my friend Buster is here, we have the complete party."

  Skulls went to get up, but Helm pressed the barrel of the gun to his forehead. "Just give me an excuse," he spat. "Oh, how I would love to spray your brains over the wall, but they want you all alive for questioning. If you resist, however, my finger might slip."

  "What have you done, you schmuck?" Al said, pointing a bony finger at Helm.

  "Keep your mouth shut, Jude," Helm said. "You think you are so clever, do you not? Making your little community. Showing how much people can achieve when they work together. Well, you are a fool. It is dog eat dog. Every man for himself."

  Helm turned to Buster, who was hovering by the door, his gun sweeping the room. "Get the radio. Tell them we are ready."

  "Tell who?" Bella asked.

  "Your friends in the TLX. Ten thousand dollars and citizenship— you heard the broadcast. We met them on our last scavenging trip and they were very cooperative."

  "You'll fit right in."

  Buster came back into the room and handed the radio handset to Helm. "I didn't tell you to bring it here, idiot! I said to let them know."

  "I don't like speaking into it," Buster responded in a voice that seemed far too deep and labored for such a small frame.

  Helm rolled his eyes, swapped the gun to his other hand, and pressed the call button. "Raging Bull, Raging Bull, this is Berliner, do you receive?"

  The response came through almost instantly. "This is Raging Bull. Do you have the package? Over."

  "Yes, all secure and ready for collection, over."

  "Acknowledged. We will send a retrieval unit. Estimated arrival time: 1510 hours. Out."

  Bella looked up at the clock on the wall. They would arrive in just over twenty minutes. She glanced at Skulls, who was tensing himself, but Helm was pointing the gun directly at his temple.

  It was Luke who acted first. With the speed of a striking cobra, he leaped backwards out of his chair, sending it flying as he threw himself at Buster. Helm swung the gun round, and as he moved Skulls rose like an avenging angel, grabbing his arm.

  A gunshot rang out, but Bella didn't turn to look as she was on top of Buster, battling to keep his weapon pinned to the floor. Luke had been thrown off, his mouth bleeding, and Maddie helped him to his feet as, another crack and the room filled with the smell of burning sulfur. Luke kicked the gun out of Buster's hands, picked it up, and stood over him. Al was pointing Helm's gun at the German's head, as blood spread over the carpet.

  "Skulls, are you alright?" Bella said, kneeling beside the big man. He was gripping his leg and grimacing.

  "I'll survive," he responded through gritted teeth. He rolled onto his front and, with Bella's help, got up and staggered over to where Buster lay, looking up at the barrel of the gun in Luke's hand. He spat at the man, added a few choice curses, and took the Ruger from Luke.

  "Don't kill him in cold blood," Bella said as Skulls aimed.

  "Oh, I don't mean to, not just yet," Skulls responded. "This piece of filth is going to patch me up …"

  "I can do that…"

  Skulls turned quickly to her. "No, you must go. There is no time."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Buster and I are going to lead them away, give you a chance to escape."

  The man on the floor shook his head.

  "Unless he wants me to shoot him now," Skulls added.

  "I can't let you do that," Bella said. "If they catch you, they'll string you up."

  He smiled at her. "They won't catch me. But you must go now. I will meet you if I can. Your father knows where. Now, go!"

  Skulls pushed her away and she followed Al out of the door. The old man nodded to Skulls and Luke shook his hand before going. The last to leave was Maddie. Skulls flushed as she kissed him on the cheek.

  Bertha started up on the first attempt. There was no time for a pre-flight check; they all piled inside, and Al immediately pulled out of the parking lot and headed east, following the highway but not taking it just yet. Through the rear camera, Bella could see Skulls running across the lot, pushing Buster ahead of him.

  She strained to see any sign of their pursuers and prayed Skulls would get away, though she knew he would leave it as late as possible so the TLX soldiers were sure to follow him. He was a brave man and she had no idea why he was prepared to take this risk for them. She felt a lump in her throat and hoped to see him again.

  With a lurch, the RV swerved to avoid an abandoned car. Two men appeared from behind it, guns raised, though they didn't shoot.

  "Darn it," Al said. "They'll tell their buddies which direction we've gone in. Time to take a detour."

  He took the first turning he came to.

  "Isn't this going south?"

  "Yep—that's the way I want them to think we've gone. We'll get back on our right road as soon as we can. I just hope, by the time they pick up the trail, it'll have gone cold."

  Bella looked back at Maddie and Luke, who were huddled in each other’s arms on the bench seat behind them, and prayed that Skulls could lead the enemy away for long enough for them to make a clean escape. How far would the TLX pursue the president's son? They weren't going to give up, that was for sure. But the US was a big place and the further they went, the better the chance they had.

  Chapter 4

  Solly's arm stung like hell, but he was at least now starting to warm up. He lay on the couch opposite Wally's as Ross finished wrapping the wound.

  "There," he said. "It probably needs stitches, but …"

  "It's alright. Thanks. But you shouldn't have come after me."

  Ross shrugged as he got to his feet. "If I hadn't, you'd be dog food."

  "True. Good shooting, by the way," Solly said as he watched the boy walk into the kitchen.

  "I'm going to go back to the car and get the rest of our stuff," Ross said. "Can't just leave it all out there waiting to be stolen. And, anyway, I want the stove—we're not going anywhere today, and I want something to warm these cans up on."

  Solly hauled himself up on his elbows, wincing. "Are you insane? I've just been attacked by feral dogs …"

  "—a couple of them were wolves, I reckon …"

  "—and wolves. When we go out again, we do it in a group."

  Ross shrugged. "I'm going to wait until noon, and I'll take care. Quit worrying—I've got this."

 
"Absolutely not. You can't do this on your own. That's final!"

  Ross stormed back into the living room. "Get lost! You're always telling me what I can't do! Even though I just saved your butt."

  Solly's mouth opened and closed as he found he had no response to this outburst. Ross had never behaved like this before; he'd always seemed to be an even tempered boy. And then Solly cast his mind back to when he'd first met Ross. He'd wondered when the dam would burst. "Look, I don't want you to put yourself in harm's way for the sake of a few bits of camping gear."

  "It's our stuff. It's all we've got and I'm not leaving it for someone to steal."

  "I'll come with you, then."

  Ross shook his head. "No. You've lost a lot of blood."

  "Ross, don't go."

  The boy got up and headed towards the kitchen. "You don't get to tell me what to do, you're not my dad," he said in a calm voice that cut Solly to the bone. Ross opened the far door and went into the conservatory. It was cold, but it had one big advantage—Solly wasn't there.

  Solly watched from an upstairs window as Ross trudged off along the snow-filled lane. It had taken every ounce of his remaining strength to clear the master bedroom of its two former occupants. He'd only managed by repeatedly running back outside to inhale fresh air. He wrapped the bed blankets around the two bodies that, even in the cool Montana climate, were barely recognizable as those of once living beings. Then he rolled them up and, grimacing with disgust, lifted each into the bathroom before shutting the inner door and opening all the windows. The mattress was violated by deep black stains and the room would need a deep clean if it was ever to be habitable again, but for now it was bearable.

  Solly lifted the hunting rifle and used the sight to keep an eye on Ross. He had to admire the boy. It had been Ross who'd found the rifles in a cabinet in the back room and Solly knew that without that stroke of luck he'd be dead now. He felt so protective of Ross and wanted desperately to go with him, but he also recognized that this was something Ross needed to do alone. The incapacitation of the two adults had given the boy an opportunity to be a man. Solly only hoped he survived his initiation.

  Ross went out of sight just past the point where the dogs had attacked. Even from here, Solly could see the red stain in the snow and the dark marks he knew to be the bodies of the animals. The snow had now stopped falling completely and there was a fresh brightness to the air that would, under normal circumstances, have been delightful. But these weren't normal circumstances, not remotely, and so he stood, rubbing his hands and stamping as he waited for Ross to reappear.

  He was within an instant of running out into the snow after Ross when his head finally appeared around the bend. The boy looked unharmed and was carrying one of the packs from the back of the pickup, so he'd obviously found the truck.

  There was no sign of the dogs, so Solly put the rifle down and watched Ross make his way towards the house. Then he noticed—Ross wasn't carrying his gun.

  A figure appeared around the corner, walking twenty yards or so behind Ross and holding his rifle. Ross stopped without turning around—responding, presumably, to a called command—and waited for the figure to catch up with him.

  They walked together now, far too close for Solly to risk a shot even if he'd wanted to. He knew nothing about this person except that he or she had Ross as a hostage.

  Solly ran downstairs and woke Wally up. "We've got trouble," he said, before explaining what he'd seen. "Can you move?"

  "I reckon."

  Solly was going to suggest the old man find somewhere to hide in the hope he could surprise Ross' captor, but he couldn't think of a hiding place that wouldn't mean Wally freezing to death. No, they'd have to play it straight.

  He heard Ross calling from outside.

  "What's going on?" Solly responded.

  "She wants to come in," Ross said in a defeated voice. "She says she wants to talk to us."

  "Then get her to drop her weapon," Solly said.

  "I don't think so," a female voice called. "Stand back from the door and make no aggressive moves."

  The door opened, and Ross stepped inside. His face was pale and drawn, his expression one of mute apology as he stood on the threshold before moving to one side.

  A figure in a dark brown coat and fur rimmed hat followed him cautiously inside. "Hands where I can see them," she said, her words seeming to come from within the folds of her coat. She was so deeply wrapped Solly couldn't make out her face, though he instinctively knew she was relatively young and quite obviously trained in firearms.

  Solly, Ross and Wally moved to stand beside the hearth as the woman shut the door, keeping them covered constantly, and stood opposite them.

  "You have a device that I am interested in. It is shaped like a cylinder. Where is it?"

  This was the last thing Solly had expected to hear. He'd assumed she was an opportunistic bandit, but now it seemed she was a Lee Corporation operative.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Solly said, wondering how they could possibly have been traced here.

  "Don't lie to me. I know it's here, and your boy as much as admitted it."

  "I did not!" Ross said, indignantly. "She had a gun to my head and I said she should ask you about it."

  The woman pulled back her hood to expose a pretty Latino face framed by deep brown hair. "I knew from your reaction when I mentioned the device—if you didn't have it, you would have been confused by the question. All I saw was surprise and shock. Now, tell me where it is."

  "Who wants to know?" Solly asked.

  "That is none of your concern. I'm holding the gun, after all. No more pretense. You have the device, bring it out before I lose patience."

  "What happens then?"

  The woman shrugged. "I start shooting."

  Solly shook his head. His instincts had been wrong many times, but this time he was certain. If she was truly from the Lee Corporation, at least one of them would be dead by now. "No, I don't think you will."

  "You think because I'm a woman I won't shoot? I've done it before!"

  "I believe you've killed before," Solly said, his conviction growing, "but not in cold blood. I don't see it in you. Frankly, your best chance of getting what you want is to be honest with us."

  He stepped forward, hand outstretched.

  "My name's Solly Masters," he said. "Good grief, is that a sheriff's badge?"

  Her coat had swung open a little to reveal a flash of gold.

  She sighed, lowered her weapon and said. "My name is Paulina Ramos. I'm sheriff of Arbroath."

  For the second time that day, Solly had found himself unable to speak. Arbroath had been their destination; was this woman the person they were expected to hand the device over to? Or was she a fake?

  She'd put her gun down, so that, at least, was progress, and they were sitting on the couch as Ross boiled a camping kettle in the kitchen.

  Solly could tell that this woman, Paulie, knew much less about the true nature of the device than he did. She claimed that she'd been sent by its owner to reunite it with the key she carried. At this, she pulled out a credit card-sized photo ID and showed him the reverse. "This fits into the device somehow. Makes it fully functional and more able to protect itself. I honestly don't know, Solly. I was told to find you, activate the device, and return with it to Arbroath."

  "Seems to me you've been kept in the dark as much as we have," Solly said. "Who is this person you're giving it to?"

  Paulie shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "He calls himself Pastor Smith. He came into the town when we were rebuilding, and he's helped us. People follow him."

  "What do you mean ‘he calls himself Pastor Smith’? Is he a fake? He wouldn't be the first we've come across."

  Again, Paulie seemed reluctant to answer. In the end, she sighed and handed over the photo ID card.

  Solly flipped it over to see a handsome, smiling face. "What the … You've got Scott Lee's ID? Where did you get it from?"

  "F
rom Scott Lee."

  "But he's dead. I saw it on TV. He died just before people started dropping."

  Paulie shook her head. "I know. He faked his own death because he knew he was expected to die. His wife had arranged it."

  "What? Annabel Lee killed him?"

  "Annabel Lee killed everyone," Paulie said. "Scott isn't certain she intended to, but he knows she meant to take him with her."

  Ross called from the kitchen where he'd been standing open-mouthed at the news. "Like a pharaoh. Killing their followers to serve them in the afterlife. It's insane."

  "Not as crazy as murdering billions of people," Solly said. "I just can't believe she'd intended to do that."

  Wally cleared his throat. "I know I'm just a stupid, out of touch old man, but can someone tell me who in the name of Moses is Annie-belle Lee?"

  They'd spent long enough talking for Solly to be convinced that Paulie was genuine—at least to the extent that she believed what she'd been told. Whether any of them could trust Scott Lee was another question entirely, but Solly’s entire mission had been to go to Arbroath and it could hardly be a coincidence that this was where Lee had ended up. Khaled and Neil had intended for the device to be given to him, and Solly only had his trust that their plans were for the good of humanity to go on. But then, that had been true from the beginning.

  As for Paulie, he might have been acting like a naive fool, but everything about her checked out. Had she been working for the Lee Corporation, she'd have called in a 'copter as soon as she'd established where they were. No, if this woman wasn't genuine, then he'd never trust his instincts again.

  Or was it just that he wanted her to take the device off his hands? After all, that was what she was asking for, and if he gave it to her, he'd be able to immediately head back east and south. The farmhouse was calling and so was Texas.