Emory and Marty had spotted the group of twenty-five road agents earlier in the day and taken cover in the hills around the highway with the intention of picking them off during the night after they were bedded down. The party had stood across their path south, and there was no other way through to Topeka without a long backtrack. Emory had been about to open fire on the snoozing band of marauders when Forrest’s Humvee had first gone racing down the highway and stirred them all back up again.
Afterward the bandits stayed awake, taking up positions covering the highway, waiting to see if another Army truck might come by.
After watching the troopers kill six or seven of the bandits on their own, Emory and Marty, keeping in contact now via a pair of USGS walkie-talkies, decided to use the unknown men as a force multiplier and opened fire themselves, eventually killing off the remaining bandits and making the decision to expose themselves.
Marty flipped up his NVD as he walked into the area illuminated by the headlights of the Humvee, noting at once that both troopers were clean shaven. His carbine was slung over his shoulder, but he kept Joe’s .45 gripped in his hand as he approached.
“Is either one of you hit?” he asked, trying to sound like a professional soldier.
“My partner is,” Forrest said, his own .45 in hand and ready to blow Marty’s brains out if he so much as twitched.
“My partner’s a medic,” Marty said.
“So am I,” Kane said, watching Emory through his NVD, realizing she was intentionally hanging back.
“We appreciate you saving our butts,” Forrest said. “You’re with the Air Force?”
“Not anymore,” Marty said, trying to keep his voice as deep as possible. “The Air Force isn’t what it used to be.”
“You can tell your partner it’s safe to come in,” Kane said over his shoulder, not wanting to take his eyes off Emory. “We won’t shoot if you won’t.”
“My partner’s with the Arizona Guard,” Marty said, not yet having enough information to trust them. “Who are you guys with?”
With a speed that seemed inhuman to Marty, Forrest had disarmed him, screwed the barrel of his .45 into his ear and used him as a shield.
Kane was already gone from Emory’s view, having taken cover behind the wheel hub of the Humvee.
“Tell your partner to drop his weapon!” Forrest ordered.
Emory shouldered the carbine as she dropped to her knee, sighting on Forrest’s head, though not steady enough at fifty yards to be sure she wouldn’t kill Marty instead. The speed and skill with which Forrest had moved told her they had come up against a highly trained pair of soldiers.
“Let him go!” she shouted. “Or I’ll fire a grenade and kill all three of you!”
Kane quickly sought cover behind a different vehicle. “I got a clear shot, Jack.”
Marty drew a breath to scream a warning, but Forrest choked off his air, pulling him closer to ground.
“Now listen up!” Forrest shouted. “We don’t want to kill either of you. Just sling your weapon out there and I’ll let your man go. This doesn’t have to end bloody.”
Emory wasn’t sure what to do, realizing that Kane must have taken up a different firing position by now.
“How do I know you won’t shoot?” she shouted, wanting badly to actually trust another soldier for a change.
“My partner’s had you in his sights for ten seconds now and you’re not dead! That proof enough?”
She rose slowly and lowered the carbine, waiting for the shots that would kill her and Marty both, but the men did not fire and Marty was released as promised.
“Relax now,” Forrest said to Marty. “No sudden moves.”
Marty stood in place as Emory came forward. Her carbine was slung, but she was ready to bring it up in a hurry, her finger on the trigger of the grenade launcher.
“She’s got her finger on the M-203, Jack.”
“That’s fair,” Forrest said. “Everybody be cool. It’s a dangerous world we’re living in.”
Emory stepped up opposite the concrete barrier.
“Sorry about that,” Forrest said, seeing her in the lights of the Humvee now. “But your partner seemed to be stalling. I couldn’t take the chance.”
“We just saved your asses,” she said. “Why would we want to kill you?”
“Good question. Hard to trust anybody these days.”
“That’s a fucking understatement,” she said, her eyes looking for Kane.
“Come on in, Marcus.”
Kane stepped out of the darkness. “Thanks for not makin’ me shoot you. I’ve never killed a woman and I wasn’t lookin’ to start.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Marty wasn’t saying much, still too pissed at himself and embarrassed over having been so easily overpowered and nearly getting Emory killed.
“I’m Shannon. That’s my partner, Marty. He’s an astronomer.”
Forrest looked Marty over and offered his hand. “I’m Jack Forrest.”
“Marty Chittenden.”
“Look, I don’t mean to be rude,” Forrest said, “but we’re trying to save a life, so we have to get this rig unstuck and be on our way.”
“We’ll give you a hand,” Emory said.
While Kane saw to the bullet hole in his calf, Forrest and Emory drew the cable from the winch on the front bumper backward under the Humvee and hooked it into a loop of rebar sticking out of the concrete barrier, enabling the winch to pull the vehicle backward. After a few feet the rear wheels had enough traction to pull the Humvee the rest of the way clear. The whole procedure took less than ten minutes.
“Give us a lift to our truck?” Emory asked. “It’s only half a mile north.”
“Mount up,” Forrest said, squinting against the snow that had begun to fall much more rapidly since their truce.
“Is there anything south of here we need to worry about?” Emory asked from the backseat, wanting badly to know what these men were up to and where they were headed, sensing their reluctance to share much information.
“Stay away from Topeka,” Forrest warned from the passenger seat. “It’s full of restless young soldiers who haven’t seen a woman in a while.”
“Great,” Marty said gloomily. “As if we haven’t seen enough of those.”
“You guys said you’re trying to save a life,” Emory said. “What’s that about?”
“A friend of ours is sick. We went to Topeka for some meds.”
“We’ve got a sick friend too,” she said. “He’s up here in the truck with a bad concussion.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Forrest said.
Emory could smell the aftershave on these two, so she knew damn well they were living high on the hog someplace and that they were looking to ditch her and Marty as soon as possible. A feeling of desperation welled up inside of her as Kane pulled up alongside their SUV.
“Thanks again for saving our asses,” Forrest said, offering Emory his hand.
“And now you’re gonna ditch us?” she said, taking his hand.
“It’s not like that. You guys were obviously headed somewhere and we’re—”
“We’re headed toward a long shot,” she said, keeping hold of his hand. “And you two smell like an ad in GQ, so don’t tell me you’ve got it tough. Look at us. Our luck’s about to run out. Don’t you think we’ve earned a break?”
She let go of his hand and gave him a moment to think it over.
“What do you think, Marcus?”
“I think Wayne’s gonna pitch a bitch, but if we’re gonna do this, let’s do it.”
Forrest helped them move Sullivan into the back of the Humvee and they were on their way. “What happened to him anyhow?”
“Shot in the head,” Emory answered. “But his Kevlar saved his bacon.”
“Our doc
can take a look at him.”
They got back to the silo without any more trouble and Kane pulled the Humvee up to the front porch of the house. Marty and Forrest helped Sullivan inside. He was conscious off and on. Emory saw the mostly eaten body on the living room floor in the beam of her flashlight as they took Sullivan upstairs and laid him down on the bed across the hall from where Black Beard had been killed.
“We’ll get the gas and water turned back on for you,” Forrest said. “The furnace too. That way you’ll have hot water to wash with.”
“This isn’t where you live?” she asked.
“No, we live underground.”
“Wait, this is an old missile installation, isn’t it?” She exchanged glances with Marty.
“As a matter of fact, it is. Why?”
“Survival Estates?”
Forrest looked at Kane and laughed. “No, honey. We’re not twenty-twelvers. We didn’t buy this place until after we knew about the asteroid. How did you hear about Survival Estates?”
Emory and Marty told them the story about the crater and the wiped-out missile installation, then Forrest and Kane went below, promising to send up hot chow.
The first thing Ulrich said when he stepped into the cargo bay to greet them was: “Who the fuck’s upstairs, Jack?”
“How’s Melissa?”
“Unconscious but hanging in. Who are they?”
“They saved our goddamn lives,” Forrest said, handing over the rucksack full of antibiotics. “Get these to West right away. Marcus and I have to clean up before we come in. And have somebody cook up a pot of something hot to eat.”
Over the next few hours, Emory and Marty were fed and showered in the house above and given clean clothes to wear before being taken below, where they were asked to shower again and undergo a physical examination.
Sullivan was initially kept in the cargo bay wrapped in a thick arctic sleeping bag until Emory and West were able to give him a sponge bath. West suggested that after a few days of warmth and bed rest he would probably be much improved. For the time being he was given the cot in Launch Control, where he would be safe from the hustle and bustle of everyday life in the silo.
Forrest finally stepped into Medical, and Veronica got up from the chair beside Melissa’s bed, hugging him. She could have cried with joy at the sight of him, but with Michael present she maintained her composure.
Michael shook Forrest’s hand and thanked him. By then Kane had related the details of their adventure, and the story had spread throughout the tiny population.
“How is she?” Forrest asked, seeing the bags of fluid now hooked up to Melissa’s arms.
“Sean says we should know within twelve hours whether or not the drugs are helping,” Michael said.
“They will,” Forrest said, willing the antibiotics to be effective.
“I’ll give you two some time,” Michael said, turning to go.
“Stay put,” Forrest said. “I have to go debrief our guests before Wayne gives them the Gestapo treatment.” He found Marty and Emory in Launch Control with Ulrich and Kane. Emory was sitting beside Sullivan’s cot, running her fingers through his hair as he slept. “How are you doing? Better?”
“It’s unbelievable down here,” she said quietly, ready to crawl out of her own skin. She was so used to being on the edge twenty-four hours a day that she was having trouble decompressing.
“You knew about the asteroid months in advance?” Marty said from a chair near the wall. “How?”
“A friend of mine at the Pentagon.”
“And who are all these people?”
“Some are family and friends, the rest were chosen at random. See you in the hall for a minute, Wayne?”
Ulrich got up from his chair and stepped out with him.
“Recognize the look in their eyes?” Forrest asked.
“They don’t know what to do now that there’s nothing to fight. Better have Mike talk to them before we try any sort of debrief.”
“We’ll let ’em sleep in there with their man. They’re not gonna want to split up for a while.”
“You two fucking near bought it, didn’t you?” Ulrich said.
“Twice. But it’s over now.”
“This makes three more mouths to feed, you know.”
“I do. After you crunch the numbers, let me know how many days I’ve knocked off our lives, and I’ll see what I can do to make up for it.”
“Oscar and Linus bagged a rat while you were gone. It’s in the cargo bay under a tarp. It’s a female. Now they need to figure out what to build the cages out of.”
“How long can we keep it a secret do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Ulrich said, “but if you hear Erin screaming like her hair’s on fire, you’ll know one of the little bastards got in here.”
It was late in the afternoon of the following day that Veronica found Forrest sleeping on the floor in the electrical room. “Jack,” she said softly, kneeling to touch his arm.
He opened his eyes and for a moment didn’t know where he was. “Yeah?”
“Melissa’s awake,” she said with a smile. “She asked for you first thing.”
Forrest sat up in a flash, throwing back the sleeping bag and pulling on his boots. “What’s Sean say?”
“He thinks maybe she’s out of the woods.”
“See?” he said, suddenly pissed. “Fucking Wayne would have had us watch her die!”
“Hey,” she said gently. “I think that’s entirely the wrong way to look at this.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, still frazzled from the mission. He got to his feet and kissed her, slipping quickly out of the room and up to Medical.
Melissa was obviously still very weak, but her face lit up the moment he came into the room.
“Hey!” he said softly, taking her hand and kissing her forehead.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“I’ve been right here,” he said with a smile. “What are you talking about?”
She shook her head. “You went somewhere.”
“I’ll tell you all about it later. How are you feeling?”
“Better. My head doesn’t hurt so bad.”
“Excellent,” he said with a glance at West. “I’m going to talk with Sean a minute, okay?”
“Are you coming back?” she asked, trying to hold his hand tighter.
“Yeah.”
“Promise?”
“Right after I talk with Sean, honey. I swear to God.”
Forrest took West down the hall. “No bullshit, Sean. How is she?”
“I think the worst is behind her. The antibiotics seem to be doing their job.”
“Could she relapse?”
“Of course,” West said. “But she shouldn’t, Jack. That’s all I can tell you.”
To West’s surprise, Forrest gave him a hug then slipped back into the room.
Forty-Five
It had taken a couple of days, but after Sullivan improved to the point where he could sit up and coax Marty and Emory out of Launch Control, the two slowly began to adjust to life in the silo. Sullivan had served overseas, and he understood the impact of post-traumatic stress, realizing that his friends needed to socialize themselves. Michael spoke with them briefly, but they hadn’t been in the mood to open up.
Emory took a liking to Veronica and so tagged around with her for a day before venturing about on her own.
Marty borrowed a laptop from Ulrich and downloaded the photos and videos of the crater for everyone in the complex to view. No one could believe the size of the crater, which looked far larger than a city in the panoramic shots, stretching well beyond the horizon. He had done the geometry and estimated the crater at fifty miles across, as wide as Lake Erie, and his tale of their fight with the cannibals living in a mis
sile complex similar to their own had chilled all of the women to the bone.
This morning Emory was having breakfast in the cafeteria at a table with Erin and Tonya.
“When are you due?” Erin asked, hoping to engage the dour-looking soldier in a conversation about something feminine.
“Probably April sometime,” Emory replied. “I’m not sure.”
“It’s kind of exciting knowing there’s a baby on the way.”
“I guess it’s nice somebody’s excited about it. I’d like to abort the little bastard.”
Tonya politely excused herself a moment or two later and moved to another table.
“Doesn’t it get on your nerves living on top of each other down here?” Emory said quietly.
“It took a little getting used to,” Erin said. “But you learn to block things out.”
“Are any of these kids yours?”
“No, Wayne and I . . . well, we never got around to it, and now . . .” She shrugged.
“Want mine?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you want mine? Like I told you, I don’t want it. I was hoping I’d start to feel something for it but I haven’t, and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to.”
“It’s too soon for you to know how you’re going to feel,” Erin said, deciding quickly she’d better not let her maternal feelings loose.
“No, it’s not. I’ve been watching these mothers down here, trying to picture myself doing what they’re doing. It’s not me. I’m a soldier and sooner or later I’m going to have to fight again.”
“Well, we can talk about it later. There’s plenty of time to—”
“I’m going to talk about it with every woman down here. So if you want it, you might want to speak up pretty quick. Some of these girls seem to love being mothers.”
“Okay,” Erin said, casting caution to the wind. “But I want to know the very second you change your mind. The very second, Shannon.”
Emory looked up from her bowl of oatmeal with raisins. “I won’t change my mind. So congratulations, you’re a mom.”
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