by LC Champlin
“Yes. Give me the other half of the oxy.” Hand out in expectation. “Please.”
Falling into step with his employer, Albin produced the oxycodone’s blister pack reached from a plate-carrier pocket. “The keys, sir.”
Meeting the icy gaze, Nathan frowned and aimed the P2X to under-light Albin’s face. Though inscrutable to the inexperienced, the attorney’s expression carried the tension of skepticism and a dash of . . . concern. Granted, that level of concern also appeared when his phone battery dropped below 30%.
“Thanks.” Nathan reached, only to have Albin pivot away. “Stop playing around and—”
“Sir, you have the car keys, correct?”
“I don’t plan on hotwiring it, Albin. Now give.” Hand out again.
Albin’s hand hovered over Nathan’s.
“You don’t trust me with the car.” Smirk.
“Some people pay for a chauffeur.” Matching smirk.
Keys and half an oxy changed hands. Nathan paused, an inch away from dry swallowing the next dose of relief.
Control. Pain weakens you.
Relief scratched its way down his throat.
As they approached Brentwood Park’s facilities, Nathan patted himself down. No blood.
Beyond waited the cruiser. A male leaned against it. The P2X pinned him, forcing him to shield his face. “Marvin!”
Spreading his arms, the economist pushed from the car. “About time. Hey”—he looked past Nathan—“where’s Josephine?”
“I’m glad to know I was missed.” Jo! A gate between two houses ahead of the cruiser opened. The reporter looked both ways before trotting to the car.
“Welcome back,” Nathan and Albin said in unison.
Chirp-chirp. Cruiser unlocked. The adviser moved to check the trunk.
“Everybody’s present and accounted for?” She blew a sigh of relief. “Even you, Judge.”
The Shepherd cocked her head.
“Did you stop for Starbucks?” Marvin asked, slumping back against the cruiser in relief.
“They were all out of chai. I took everything from the safe, but it looks like Sarge got the sports cards and magazines. I have some game cards, though.”
“We’ll make do. Let’s go,” Nathan ordered as he rounded to claim shotgun.
“Of course this has to be a K9 unit,” Jo complained. A glorified dog crate replaced the rear seats.
Knees up to his chest, Marvin hunkered beside Jo on the floor, behind Nathan. “How did you get the front, anyway?”
“I don’t do cages.”
“He’s not kidding.” Josephine had seen Nathan’s behavior during the previous patrol-car ride—unfortunately.
Albin closed the trunk before swinging into the driver’s seat. A black Mossberg shotgun with collapsible stock, pistol grip, and vertical fore grip joined the AR in the passenger seat footwell.
“I’ll take the shotgun.” Marvin? Despite his efforts to appear professional and disinterested, excitement flowed in the statement. “I’ve done some skeet shooting.”
“Fine.” Nathan passed it between the bars.
From her place beside Judge and Marvin, Josephine rapped on the barrier as the engine purred to life. “Hand over the radio.”
Nathan obliged. “Show me some Action News.”
After directing him how to set the channel, she began: “ABC ground units, anybody hearing me?” She continued to hail them.
“What is our destination, sir?” Albin asked the billion-dollar question.
Nathan stared ahead at the cramped residences as he pressed a hand over his side’s bandage. Then he deployed his phone. “I need computers to decipher Birk’s riddle. More importantly, we need security and shelter.”
In the back, Jo baited her colleagues with promises of breaking news, while Marvin examined the Mossberg. The Armory’s jackbooted thugs would protect the reporter and economist, since the media and Fed allied with the government. As for Albin, he would find favor in the government’s eyes for his cooperation. If Washington had her druthers, though, Nathan would meet the kind of protection Birk now enjoyed.
Even so . . . Aching ribs reminded him of the need for security and relief. “The Armory.”
Albin’s expression remained impassive. He pulled away from the curb and swung down Northwood Drive, where Nathan directed. The cruiser accelerated toward El Camino Real.
“Left.” Nathan pointed up Alida Way.
Marvin elbowed Josephine out of the way to take her place with his face at the window to the front seat. “Did you say Armory? Don’t we get a say in this?”
“A say?” Nathan squinted in bemusement. “We’re going to the Armory to drop you two off, then Albin and I negotiate with the DHS.”
“Excuse me?” Josephine’s turn to shoulder Bridges aside. “I didn’t have to leave the Armory in the first place, you know.”
“I’d rather not be flattened by a dump truck, if it’s all the same with you,” Bridges added. “But if they could offer safety . . .”
Nathan glanced back. “In short, you could swing either way, so long as the rope doesn’t snap.”
“Well . . .”
Right on Country Club. Ahead, traffic clogged the highway. El Camino? More like El Alto. Good thing they brought El Vamanos. With a grin, Nathan activated the lights and sirens. Hearing the howl from inside made all the difference. “I’ve always wanted to do that!”
Albin rolled his eyes and continued driving.
Vehicles began to pull off to give the patrol car clearance.
Nathan turned back to Bridges. “Marvin, you escaped three attacks in two days. It’s your right to take a break.”
With a sigh and a nod, Marvin kept his attention out the window. Chewing her lip, Josephine frowned at him.
The radio hissed. “Jo, this is Marc, do you copy?” Why did the name sound familiar?
Josephine snatched the mic. “Marc! Are you in the air?”
Ah yes, Marc, the chopper pilot who’d saved them from downtown San Francisco on Friday night. A smile passed between Nathan and Albin.
“I’m sure not on the ground! Speaking of ground, the truck boys say you need a lift.”
“Do we ever!” Grinning, she leaned closer to the radio as if it would improve reception. “We’re crawling through traffic on El Camino by the high school. You can’t miss the Golden Gate National Cemetery west of us.”
“Shit, I don’t know if I can get clearance.”
“People will lose interest in aerial carnage shots pretty soon. The PTB won’t have any problem once they hear my story.”
“It’s not them who give clearance. But okay, okay. I can swing it, I think.” Annoyance and resignation in the voice.
“There’s no think, only do.”
“All right, Yoda.”
Chapter 25
Lights and Sirens
Sounds of Silence - Simon and Garfunkel
The Force would come in handy about now to choke idiots out of the way. Even with lights and sirens, the cruiser moved at five miles an hour. Like cows on a cattle car, the civilians couldn’t move even if they wanted.
“Get to the high-school ball fields,” Marc directed.
“Back there.” Nathan pointed rearward.
Jo laughed in triumph. “We’ll be there!”
“Splendid.” Albin’s tone would’ve fit just as well if Nathan had suggested they swing by the supermarket for eggs.
As the car wheeled right, Nathan braced himself for the curb.
In the back, Judge scrabbled and whimpered. Not a good time for her to start missing her partner.
“You hungry, girl?” Marvin asked the dog. “Here.” In the rearview, Bridges pulled half a sandwich from his duffle bag. After a sniff, Judge finished the food in a gulp.
With a sad smile, Jo patted the Shepherd’s shoulder.
At last they reached the intersection to the high school. Exit route locked and l
oaded.
As Nathan shifted his position, something bumped his foot. A Maglite. Aiming the light out his passenger window, he clicked the power button. Movement in the aisle at 3 o’clock: a woman hopping out of her Escalade. A Cali yuppie, if yoga pants and a blonde ponytail meant anything.
“Get back in the vehicle,” Nathan muttered.
She missed his psychic message, storming toward his car instead. Her yell carried over the horns but remained unintelligible.
What made her leave the luxury SUV? Raising the Maglite to slide its beam over the vehicles beyond her, Nathan squinted against the tail-light glare. Nothing unusu—A figure jumped onto a van’s roof. A white Dalit face turned whiter in the Maglite.
Now the woman was pointing behind her as she broke into a jog, almost on top of them. She halted just short of slamming into the patrol car. While Albin rolled into the next gap ahead, she sidled beside them.
The passenger window lowered an inch at Nathan’s direction. “Get back in your vehicle. Now!”
“You’re a cop! Do something!”
Behind her, the cannibal jumped to another roof. He could head-shot the monster from the cruiser, but what about its friends? What about the mercenaries who hunted for the safe’s contents? Life lacked an infinite-ammo cheat code.
“Get back in your vehicle!”
Marvin sat up for a better view. “She’s going to be that thing’s dinner if she doesn’t head for the hills.”
“She’s not the only unhappy citizen.” Josephine pointed out the left passenger window. People had begun exiting their vehicles, their attention on the cruiser.
Three civilians reached the patrol car’s left side and began bawling at the law enforcement officers they thought it held.
Nathan grabbed the loudspeaker mic as the sirens sang. “Get back in your vehicles!” Though hardly silent raindrops falling, his words still fell on deaf ears. The sirens and lights could flash their warning all they wanted; idiots wouldn’t listen to the words of the prophets.
The engine revved as Albin launched the vehicle through the final gap, toward the school. In the last instant of Maglite illumination, a white-faced figure lunged at the Escalade driver. He had warned her.
Ahead on the left waited the pick-up zone, a void of darkness. Nathan dragged the car’s spotlight beam through the ink. A football field opened behind a chain-link fence.
The radio crackled. “My ETA is one minute. What’s yours?”
Josephine keyed the mic, but Albin cut her off. “Ten seconds. Brace yourselves.” Nathan grabbed the slingshot handle as Albin spun the wheel.
Crash! Chain-link didn’t stand a chance.
Nathan grinned as they rolled to the center of the field. “Destruction of public property for the second time tonight?”
“I seem to be on a roll in that regard.”
Josephine scanned the sky behind them. “There!” A running-light flashed from a chopper. Then the aircraft’s searchlight swept across the field, onto the car. “We’re in the cop car,” she informed Marc. With the cruiser’s flashing lights, it made an easy target.
“Sit tight.”
Nathan exited first, .45 ready. Albin followed, AR in hand. Marvin held Judge’s leash and the Mossberg, while the dog watched their chopper with ears pricked.
As the aircraft descended, Nathan’s spirits ascended. The Eurocopter settled to the earth, rotor wash flattening the grass where the cruiser spotlight formed a helipad of light. The red nose cone and white fuselage gleamed. Near the tail, a blue disc bore ABC 7 HD.
The door to freedom slid open.
Chapter 26
Citizenship
The Resistance - Skillet
Stowing his gear under his seat, Nathan joined the others in belting in and locating a headset.
“Up and away,” Josephine sighed in relief as she plugged her phone into a cord that attached to a wall-mounted tablet.
The rotor whir increased. Heaven accepted the bird as it deserted the earth. They couldn’t take the sky from him. Yet.
“We just need to get to the Armory,” Jo instructed Marc.
“Hang on.” Marc’s tone brooked no arguments. After a pause, “Sorry, that’ll have to wait.”
Nathan glared at the back of Marc’s helmet. “Something more important on your agenda?”
“The Powers That Be say we need to check Union Square. There are reports of rioting. We have clearance from the government”
Albin stiffened. “Union Square is far into the city. The Armory is perhaps a minute from here.”
Nathan put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “A field trip might prove educational.”
The Eurocopter headed northwest. Headlights that once flowed in rivers through the streets now stalled, stagnant and stinking. A lake of night spread below where San Bruno Park once resided. Here and there a flashlight or headlights flickered in it.
Forty-eight hours since zero hour in San Francisco. The Red Cross said civilization broke down five days after a disaster, but the cannibals would shorten that to two or three.
“—more confusion followed—” rambled Josephine. Across from him, she worked on the tablet as if it held the secret to life—or a free Starbucks. To Nathan’s left, Albin watched the cockpit indicators. Across from him hunched Marvin. He scanned the world outside, concern and curiosity mingling in his face under the cabin lights. Judge sat between his feet, alert.
Ahead rose the city. In the blackout, buildings that once towered as testaments to humankind’s ingenuity now hulked as monuments to man’s failure.
Spotlight beams waved in the night sky, then flicked to their ground targets. Flocks of vehicles bleated. Here and there flames flickered among the buildings like enemy campfires.
Marvin waved a hand in front of Jo’s screen. “Hey, where are those cards you found in Birk’s safe?”
Not looking up, she produced them from a pocket and handed them over.
“Where’s the riot?” Nathan asked.
In response, Marc pulled up and into a left bank, bringing more of Union Square into view. Floodlights poured across the scene, like they had two nights ago. Ants—no, people—swarmed in the square and through the streets.
“Why hasn’t the government gotten them out of there?” Marvin wondered.
Albin pointed to two MRAP SWAT trucks and several police cars on Geary Street. “There is law enforcement presence, as well as military.” Three Humvees ranged around the square.
Across the cabin, Jo clicked into Reporter Mode, excitement radiating from her tense posture. “I’m going live in three, two, one.” The helicopter news camera panned over the scene as she began broadcasting to the world. “This is Josephine Behrmann. I’m not sure what’s going on. Apparently a small confrontation between the police and a civilian two nights ago led to unrest that’s finally boiled over. There’s hardly any official presence. Law enforcement is stretched thin right now. We have reports of more units on the way, but it may be too little, too late.”
The chopper’s spotlight beam slid over the scene as Marc circled, descending, improving the coverage. Now the people’s faces couldn’t hide. Pale, like they had seen the “worst thing in the world” in Big Brother’s Room 101.
“Josephine,” Nathan barked as he caught her elbow. “There. Zoom in.”
Albin and Marvin leaned in closer for a look.
The creatures swarmed over cars, along streets, into buildings. Bone-white faces turned to look up at the chopper, mouths open. Black liquid dribbled from their mouths as they gaped up.
Dalits. Hundreds of them. Nathan groaned. The contagion had spread through the “safe zone,” just as he had feared when he escaped Union Square Friday night.
“There are so many,” Marvin murmured.
Nathan’s legs went numb. Esophagus constricting, his stomach writhed in acid. His vision tunneled onto the screen, onto three cannibals who tore the intestines from a body. Nausea clam
ped down on his gut in sympathy. Pain hummed in his body like electricity on power lines, but it didn’t matter, because the world closed in around him.
He needed security. He needed advantage.
Marvin groaned. “Where’s the fucking government?”
No black helicopters swooping in with swarms of missiles and miniguns. No ground control vehicles with M50 Vulcans ready to send a wall of lead at the enemy. “The government can’t help them.” The words came on their own. “It can’t help us.”
Eyes closed. Gold eyes regarded him, half lidded. Think.
Blood in the streets. When civilization crumbled, the beasts walked on two legs. Who owned the beasts of the field? The same One who gave him the Right to dominate the streets.
Evolve. Attack. Dominate.
Weight in his hand. The dead officer’s tactical knife, open and sharp. The blade floated toward his ankle. Cold against his skin.
Dependence on a protector? Slavery by another name. The protectors would protect him to death, just as they had done to the people in Union Square.
He sawed at the strap. The monitor fell away. Free, a citizen of his own sovereign nation.
Chapter 27
Sky Wolves
Save This City - Zayde Wolf
“The military has finally arrived!” Josephine’s exclamation snapped Nathan’s attention to the scene below. Indeed, the cavalry was arriving in the form of five armored personnel carriers converging on the area.
“AH-64 Apaches.” Albin pointed to three o’clock, where four attack helicopters thrummed into view. Spotlights below washed over them, highlighting the armaments: Hellfire missile pods. Gatling guns. Enough firepower to take out an enemy caravan. But would they fire?
In answer, flames erupted from the rear of one chopper’s missile pod. Marc pulled the Eurocopter up as the missile rode a trail of fire down.