by Paul Kirk
“Hah. Yeah, him. The civilian.”
“He knows his shit?” asked Amanda, interested.
“Ma’am? Can I step in here?”
“Yeah, please do. Go ahead, Scott.”
“Shamus is with me, Amanda. Before we joined up here with the president.”
“Yeah?”
“Shamus and GT are my best friends since middle school. We do everything together. Have ever since.”
“Okay.”
“Shamus is the smartest man I know. Military trained. Truly. He says something, you listen. I trust him with my life.”
“You do?
“Unquestionably.”
“Okay.”
“Amanda, that’s why we brought Shamus, GT and Scott with us,” said Colonel Starkes, “They possess a whole slew of special skills the army’s used once or twice in the past. They travel as a trio.”
“Oh, I see...I think.”
“In the meantime, don’t let those puppy-dog eyes right there fool ya.”
“What do ya mean?”
“Don’t go thinking that Shamus, GT and him right there are simply civilians.”
“I meant no offense.”
“None taken. But they’re formidable wolves, ex-military, walking among the sheep.”
“Oh.”
“Truth be told, they’re a triple threat and a tightly-guarded national asset that’s served Uncle Sam on some tricky assignments. Isn't that right, Scott?”
“Ahh, ma’am, c’mon, we’re just a bunch of guys that like to tinker with ‘copters and boats. You know that.”
“Hah. Yeah. That’s right. That’s all Seal Team Six does.”
Amanda caught the deep respect conveyed by the colonel. There was at least some element of awe about it as well. She studied Scott in greater detail, but in a new light. The thick, dense chest and arm muscles, slim waist and gazelle-like quadriceps suggested a man of effective power and control. Scott’s muted intensity, when engaged in the current conversation, spoke volumes that he was more a man accustomed to action not words. Again, she felt humbled that she’d warranted his unwavering care and attention during her convalescence. She moved to stand in front of Scott, gently invading his personal space.
“Thanks again for taking care of me, Scott. I'm in your debt.”
“My pleasure, Amanda.” Scott beamed and blushed at her attention, before backing away and giving Colonel Starkes a rather intense and meaningful stare. It was clear he’d rather keep his military history out of any discussions. He turned to leave.
“Scott?”
He turned back to face them. “Yes, ma’am?”
“I’m real sorry, but we can’t be playing anymore tiddly winks at the country club right now.”
“Understood.” Scott continued his walk back toward the helicopter. He did not look back.
“What’s that supposed to mean, Hannah?” asked Amanda.
“Figure it out for yourself. I have work to do.” Colonel Starkes moved to follow Scott in his exit from the area.
“What? C’mon. I wanna know.”
“Yeah? Well, ask somebody else. I can’t be babysitting a princess.”
“What did you just say? Princess? Me? Really?”
“You heard me.” Colonel Starkes had stopped. Amanda approached.
“Ma’am, pardon me for saying so to the President of the United States, but go screw yourself.”
“Amanda you got some nerve—”
“Go. Screw. Your—” Amanda was caught off guard at the precise snatch of her throat and the strong grasp pulling her forward. She felt the fury pulsing from the colonel as she leaned within inches of Amanda’s face. Stunned at the speed and strength, Amanda looked into the blazing eyes, unable to speak.
“I owe you a deep debt of gratitude for helping save my team. I’ve made an effort to repay that debt by getting you back on your feet. But, right now, you’re a distraction and drain on my attention, men, and resources. You got that?”
Shocked, Amanda stared until a second later she was released.
“You get your act together and start pulling some weight or you’re history. Got it, Princess?” Colonel Starkes turned and began walking toward the main camp. Amanda gathered her thoughts, forcing air into her lungs.
“Wait! Ma’am?”
Colonel Starkes spun around, stopping. “What?” she growled.
“I...apologize.”
“Glad to hear it.” Colonel Starkes turned again to leave.
“No, wait! You’re right. I’ve been...a distraction...since you found me.”
Colonel Starkes turned around more slowly the second time, calming. “Duh.”
“I’m with you. We share the same purpose.”
“Which is?”
“Finding Mac. Connor Mac.”
“So?”
“So let me snoop around. I know he left something for me. I know it! I just have to figure out what that is.”
“Good to hear. Don’t let me stop you.”
“Okay.”
“In the meantime, Scott’s got work to do now that you’re up and running.”
Amanda thought for a bit. Nodding, she grew concerned. She realized that Scott had a strong crush on her.
“Oh...I see.”
“Yeah. See that you do.”
Tim McDonald approached them both at a fast walk and addressed the colonel.
“Ma’am?”
“Yeah, lieutenant, what’s up?”
“Found something, ma'am.”
“What? Where?”
“Hidden under a rock near the pond over there. Ren thought it looked outta place and kicked it, not expecting anything—”
“What’d you find?”
“A 9mm round atop a small book covered by a ratty dishtowel.”
“A bullet? A book?”
“Yeah, a 9mm round and Lord of the Flies.”
“Oh! That’s Colonel MacMillen’s,” said Colonel Starkes.
“How'd you know that, Hannah?” asked Amanda, confused.
Colonel Starkes studied Amanda. She looked tired and thin, but tough. Deciding she’d figure it out eventually anyway, the colonel set her straight. “You might want to talk to Nicole when you find the chance. You two might have more in common than you think.”
“The woman with the baby?”
“Ahh...yeah, her name’s Nicole. Being as there are so many other women around.”
“Oh. Oh shit.” Amanda began putting the pieces together, “She’s the one that set this all in motion...I—”
“Sharp as a tack, aren’t ya? You seen that book of his, too?”
“A huh.”
“Well then. At least we know he was here.”
Processing the new information, Amanda smiled, her face lit up with energy.
“Yes! And if that’s the case...well, he probably left something near #1 Furnace letting me know where he’s going.”
“You think?”
“Probably.”
“Let’s start looking then.”
“Yeah.”
CHAPTER 7.18-Bridges and Armies
"There's movement mid-tunnel. Three men," said Marty. Peering through the rear window of a Chevy to scope the area, he remained undetected.
“Yep. They're sittin’ pretty behind that panel truck. Its fortified, too.” said Connor.
“Fully defensible. They're waiting for easy pickings, Mac. One is alert at all times.”
“Very true. Okay, that’s all we need to know." Connor crouched closer to Cody. "We’re leaving. Cody, take point on exit. Keep eyes up front and stay real low. Marty, you cover our six.”
“Copy that.”
They traveled in a low crouch in the tunnel using the numerous cars and trucks for cover on their way out. Slinking lower when needed through a sparse area, they exited into the daylight and made their way to the team.
“As I suspected, I guess we’ll be taking that trip up to Mt. Washington to see the sights,” said Connor.
&nb
sp; “Want me to send a welcome message into that tunnel?” asked Marty. Confidant, he stroked the barrel of his rifle, eager to take out at least one of the tunnel predators before the others knew what was happening and sought cover.
“Nah. They’re only low-level underlings waiting to trap mice. We have better things to do.”
“Hmm, okay.”
“Besides, why wake up the fat cats that are probably sitting on the other side running this show.”
“True.”
“Mister, um...sir?”
“Yeah, Cody?”
“You knew this would happen, huh?”
“Meaning?”
“Umm, that, umm.”
“Spit it out, Cody.”
Cody gathered his thoughts. “Sir, you knew we were only going to...ah, probe a little into the tunnel then back out.”
“It was a distinct possibility.”
“So that’s why you brought me.”
Connor stared at Cody for a second, before smiling. He noticed Marty’s grin. "Smart kid. Don’t you think so, Surf Boy?”
“He certainly has more on the ball than most, Mac.”
“Yeah. I see that. In the meantime, Cody, I want your skinny ass good and ready for moving up McArdle Roadway.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cody scooted forward to meet the team. Connor and Marty approached John, BB, and Roger. Nearby, Rhonda was digging in her pack for something and Jason, Jude and Jackson were tending to the horses a few yards away.
“It’s loaded. A trap,” said Connor, answering their inquisitive stares.
“How bad?”
“Halfway point. Deceptively fortified. They’ve done this before.”
“Yeah?” asked John.
“Enough that it’s profitable to keep a few men waiting midpoint for no one in particular.”
“Damn,” said Jude.
“Gather up." The entire team settled near Connor to hear the plan." We’re heading up McArdle Roadway to Mount Washington.”
“Understood,” said BB. He slipped a gold compass into the pocket of his duster and gathered up his pack and assault rifle. Pulling out the compass at each resting point during their travels was a habit that the team had noticed. The fondness for the compass was obvious, but no one yet had the nerve to ask about it.
“Alright,” said Jackson. He stomped at a rat sniffing near his pack but missed.
“Hey Cody,” said Rhonda. She had come close to her son with a look of some pride.
“Hi mom.”
Their travels up McArdle Roadway provided a spectacular view of the city. Sadly, as they rose in elevation, it was easy to see that many downtown buildings were pretty banged up. The Hilton near the Point was nearly demolished. A huge gaping hole remained where a bomb must have detonated in the front courtyard. Further to the right, PPG Place, was a sprawling, castle-like building complex made mostly of plate glass and steel. Looking less than castle-like, numerous large holes were punched through many mock turrets, rooftops and windows. Catastrophic evidence of a fire gone unchecked ran across the entire complex.
“How much further to the top?”
“What, you got a date, Jackson?” asked Connor.
“No sir. Just wondering.”
“No more than 300 yards. It cuts sharp around a small bend.”
“Yes, sir.”
They arrived onto Grandview Avenue atop Mount Washington with little fanfare. A careful fifteen minutes of crossroad reconnaissance suggested no human activity or hostiles in the area. A small black and white rat terrier made its way past with a fat rat in his mouth. Noticing the team, the dog gave them a wide berth. It was well fed and had adapted quickly to its namesake. Five minutes later, they slipped onto the weed-infested sidewalk and turned left. Both Jackson and Roger maintained strict overwatch while the team moved.
“We’re heading west,” said Connor to John, “We’ll make our way to Allentown and Mt. Oliver and then into Carrick this way.”
“Okay.”
As a unit, the team moved smoothly up the roadway slope. Connor caught up beside Rhonda. “You’re doing real good, Rhonda. You've learned to travel silent and well purposed.”
“Thanks, Mac.”
“Good deal, then, keep at it."
“You're something, Mac. You know that? Right when I’m starting to feel tired and low, you come over to check on me…and give me positive feedback.”
“Well, I just wanted to point that out.”
“I know. That’s what makes you such a good leader. It comes natural to you.”
“I don’t know ‘bout that, but thanks just the same.”
“You’re welcome. Nice job at the tunnels, too.” Rhonda smiled.
Seeing the twinkle in her eyes above that smile, Connor realized she had figured out his true purpose in deploying Cody into the tunnel with him and Marty. He smiled in return. “You are gonna tell me what you did before the Sickness hit, Rhonda.”
“I am?”
“Yes, you are, if I have to torture it outta you.”
“Like I said before, I simply ran a small company.”
“Funny how you can’t recall the name or how big? I know I've seen you somewhere...on TV.”
“It’ll come back to me.”
“I’m sure it will.”
They came across the first of many concrete overlooks created as scenic viewpoints purposefully built for tourists long before the Sickness. Standing on a thirty-foot circular platform edged with wrought-iron railing, tourists took in a breathtaking panoramic view of the city. The overlook still appeared structurally sound.
"You think we can take a closer view of the city, Mac?" Curious, Rhonda posed the question. Nearby, Cody, Jude and Jason nodded at her inquiry. In the bright sunshine, the view of the city beneath puffy white clouds was already tantalizing.
"Well...I dunno."
Moving closer and catching up to Connor, Marty leaned close in to speak. “I’m against it, Mac. Too exposed.” He had completed a fair amount of scoping the city as they moved; there was simply too much to see.
“Who’s to deny Rhonda and her boy a glimpse of my hometown?” Connor Mac updated the team with new orders. They were going to take a short respite and take in the view the city. “If we slide in low, very low, to the edge, we can take a quick look. I want no more than your forehead and eyeballs showing when you peek out at the city, understood?”
The team agreed.
“Rhonda? Cody?”
“Yeah?” said Rhonda for the both of them.
“You got it?”
“Uh, huh.”
Cody nodded.
"Jude? Jason?" Both nodded at Connor. "You go with them."
"Yes, sir," said Jude.
"Okay, sir," said Jason.
“Marty, Roger, close cover our six. Jackson, maintain overwatch. I want you to keep an eye on those two houses across the street. Glass 'em every other minute. I want to be one hundred percent sure about them at all times. BB, I want you to tuck them horses in between the two homes we just cleared. That way, we can spend a bit of time on our little sightseeing trip.”
“Yes, sir,” said BB
“Okay, sir," said Roger.
"Understood, sir." Jackson separated into overwatch position.
Marty shifted closer to Connor. “Copy that, Mac. But, if we’re going to anyway, I’d sure like to take a deeper scan of the city from that vantage point.”
"A good idea, Mac," said John.
“Do it. Yeah. I like that. First in, then. Go. I'll take close cover with Roger."
Marty slipped low, crawling onto the overlook. He reached the edge and took some time to scan the entire city. Using his sniper scope, and sometimes his naked eye, he sought out targets of threat and danger. After a moment, he motioned Rhonda, Cody, Jude and Jason forward.
“Wow,” said Rhonda. She settled in to absorb the full view.
“Fuckin’ beautiful,” said Jason.
“Yeah,” said Cody, "Fuckin' beauti
ful."
"Cody!"
"Sorry, Mom."
"I'll bet it was pretty at night," said Jude.
Jason was still smiling at Cody's near perfect voice imitation when he noticed Marty was waving Connor onto the platform with some urgency.
"What's he see that's got him all riled up?” asked Connor.
“Dunno, Mac,” said McLeod.
Marty sent Rhonda, Cody, Jude and Jason off the overlook with urgency. They slid back carefully from the edge until out of direct view. Connor turned to Roger. “Roger, you're solo close cover. McLeod, keep an eye out."
"I'm on it, sir," said Roger.
“Sure thing, Mac,” said John.
Connor settled in next to Marty only to catch him swearing hard under his breath.
“Surf Boy? What’s up?”
“Men, a shitload of ‘em! All armed. Horsemen. Multiple white trucks on the move. They're coming across that bridge there. See?”
“Where?”
“Left. Ten o'clock.”
Connor grabbed his binoculars. Quickly, he motioned John onto the overlook and into the discussion. McLeod settled next to Connor, intrigued. The sounds of gas combustion engines carried faintly on the wind as it came across the river and up onto the Mount Washington overlook.
“That’s the West End Bridge,” said Connor.
“Okay.”
“Wow. I see it now. That's a shit slew of men. They're purposed and organized, like a functioning unit of some kind.”
"Yep."
"Not any military unit that I know," said Connor.
"Nope. See what they’re doing?"
"Yeah, they're clearing the bridge. Might take ‘em awhile. I make out at least forty running trucks, all white, behind them. No wait, there's more trucks. Look at the size of that cavalry...damn that has to be over 200 men easy...shit."
“Mac!” Marty had continued his scan of the bridge, near the edge where men had clustered.
“Talk to me, Surf Boy.”
“Those men! They're from Cleveland. I think that's Phoenix's army.”
“Phoenix?”
“Yeah. The boss man of Cleveland.”
“I know who Phoenix is, Surf Boy. But we've never had a visual. So, how can you be sure?”
“I recognize those guys wearing the brown and orange headbands from the Hall of Fame.”
“I see.”
“I put enough fuckin’ bullets into them people, yeah.”