Bunker (A Post-Apocalyptic Techno Thriller Book 4)

by Jay J. Falconer

  Buckley shook his head, his mind running through a number of retaliatory scenarios the General would unleash because of their actions. “You guys can’t do this!”

  “The hell we can’t. This is war, Mayor,” Bill King said, breaking his silence. He pointed at the exit door. “Right now, outside this store, people are dying in the streets. You were there, Mayor. They just gunned down some of our friends. People who voted for you.”

  “Still, this isn’t right,” Buckley said, pulling the hanging piece of Valentina’s shirt up. “She’s just the interpreter. This woman didn’t pull the trigger.”

  “No, she didn’t, but she’s still guilty as hell,” Kenny said, taking a step closer to Buckley. “Trust me, I know guilty, Seth. I was surrounded by it for years after you and Fielding testified against me.”

  “Look, I was just doing my job. You left us no choice. We had to protect this town from the evil you were selling.”

  “And now, I’m doing my job,” Kenny said. “Like you, I’m just protecting this town from the evil the Russians are selling. After you let them stroll right in and take over, I might add. What kind of man just stands by and let’s that happen?”

  “A coward. That’s who,” Bill King snapped.

  Buckley looked at Bill first, then at Kenny. “I’m sure you don’t know this, but your brother had a private meeting with General Zhukov. He sold us all out, like a traitor.”

  “Nice try, Buckley. But you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bill said.

  Buckley pointed at Bill, his eyes still locked on Kenny. “I was there. I saw him. He’s working with the Russians. You can’t trust him for a second.”

  Bill shook his head, his voice calm and cool. “All you saw was me in the hallway, but you have no idea what was said in that meeting, if anything. You’re reaching, Buckley. It’s pathetic and weak.”

  “I’m pretty sure I know what was said. It’s what men like you do to save your own ass. You’d give up everyone you know without a second thought. Even your brother.”

  Bill pointed at the door. “Are you forgetting I have a son out there somewhere?”

  “That’s exactly my point. To save him, I’d bet my last dollar that you gave up Bunker and Daisy when the General showed you the photographs. Even your own brother, if it came down to him or you.”

  “What photographs?”

  “From the drone.”

  “That’s enough,” Kenny said to Buckley. “You’re wasting your breath, Mayor.”

  “What I’m telling you is the truth,” Buckley said. “You guys are being misled. You can’t trust anything that man has told you.”

  “Even if he did try to save Jeffrey, none of that matters now,” Kenny said, his eyes turning to the bleeding Valentina.

  “Wait—” Buckley said, trying to get through to Kenny and stop this madness. “I don’t think you realize who she is.”

  “I know exactly who she is,” Kenny said without missing a beat.

  “You don’t understand. She’s not just some Russian you’ve grabbed. She’s part of the General’s personal staff and I get the strong impression she’s important to him. More than just professional, if you catch my drift. If you do this, he’ll take it out on the town. Tenfold.”

  Kenny spun to grab Buckley by the neck with force. “I said that’s enough! We’re doing this. End of discussion. Am I making myself clear?”

  Buckley couldn’t breathe with the man’s powerful grip squeezing his windpipe.

  “You’re either with us or against us, Mayor. You need to decide before I lose my patience. And trust me, that’s the last thing you want to happen right now.”

  Buckley nodded in a panic.

  Kenny let go after a three-count, his chin locked in a forward position with clenched teeth.

  Buckley gasped a sudden, deep breath, then bent over and coughed before his lungs recovered.

  “Now, where was I?” Kenny said to the group, his eyes turning to the captive in the chair.

  Rico grabbed the Mayor by the bicep and spun him around. The Deputy shook his head and sent a silent message with a flare of his eyes not to push the situation.

  Buckley wasn’t about to give up. Not yet. There had to be a way to stop this, but he needed to try a different tactic.

  Bill King was a liar and a cheat. There had to be a secret to expose. Something that might allow him to get through to Kenny and the others, but he needed to dig to find it. Dig like a Special Federal Prosecutor, combing through political files in search of a crime. One had to exist somewhere, if he probed hard enough. If nothing else, if he kept the attention on himself, maybe they’d stop their assault on Valentina before they killed her.

  Right then, his mind replayed the steps Rico had taken when they’d first entered the market. They were careful and guarded. Plus, the deputy had used the term sympathizers, which brought a new question to Buckley’s mind. One he sent Kenny’s way. “How did you get Valentina in here without anyone noticing?”

  Bill King tilted his head, then raised an eyebrow at his brother.

  Kenny nodded in response, as if to give his approval to answer the question.

  “The Russian bitch wandered into the store on her own. Grace took her down in the back when nobody was looking. Then she came to me for help.”

  “Grace?”

  “She’s a true American Patriot. Unlike others I know,” Bill said, aiming his barbs at Buckley. “Kenny was cleaning up after his long walk home when Grace showed up. She filled us in on what happened, then we came here to get answers.”

  Right then, another flashback rose up from Buckley’s memory. The vision showed Grace standing by the register with that strange look on her face. A guilty, downtrodden look. “I still can’t believe Grace started this.”

  Bill laughed. “Didn’t think the old bag had it in her. Obviously, I was wrong.”

  Buckley took a moment to run it through his mind. Granted, Grace was a little high-strung and had attacked Allison with the broomstick shortly after the EMP took down the grid, but a disagreement over stolen Pepsi was lightyears away from attacking a Russian officer.

  Grace’s look of guilt could have been the result of any number of things. Probably from letting these miscreants use the back of her store for torture. “I’ve known Grace for years. She’d never do this.” He shook his head with force, letting his words hang in the air for a beat. “No. I don’t believe a word you’re saying. Not for a second.”

  “It really doesn’t matter what you believe, Seth. What’s done is done,” Kenny said.

  Buckley looked at Zeke and Russell, then turned his eyes to Rico. “You guys okay with this?”

  Rico’s eyes tightened. “It’s them or us, Mayor. We’ve got to make a stand before it’s too late.”

  “I get that, but this isn’t the way. We can’t start torturing people. It’ll only make things worse. There has to be another way.”

  Kenny shoved at Buckley’s chest. “I suppose you just wanna stand around and talk the Russians to death.”

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I was waiting to have a chat with General Zhukov. To lodge a complaint about the executions. I’m sure I can reason with him. We have to try.”

  “I thought as much. That’s all you politicians ever want to do is talk, talk, talk,” Kenny said, rolling his eyes. “The minute they pulled the trigger and shot our people in cold blood, they declared war. The gloves are off, Mayor. It’s time to take back our town.”

  “I get that you want revenge. We all do. But do you really think you have a chance against the Russian Army?”

  “Fuck the Russians. Americans don’t back down from anyone.”

  “You need to stop and think here,” Buckley said, throwing up his hands. “What are you gonna fight with? They’ve confiscated all the weapons.”

  Bill King shook his head, laughing. “If you really think they found all the weapons, you’re dumber than you look, Mayor.”

  Buckley paused, unsure how to respo
nd.

  “And don’t forget, our family owns a mine. Weapons aren’t the only thing we have,” Kenny said.

  “Explosives?” Buckley asked.

  “More than you know.”

  Buckley felt a glimmer of hope spring up inside. “But that still doesn’t change the situation. How many lives will be lost trying to kill them all? Ten? Twenty? A hundred?”

  “I doubt we’ll have to kill them all,” Zeke said. “We just have to make them miserable enough that they’ll want to leave. It’s about destroying their morale, Mayor.”

  “Hit and run,” Kenny said. “We know where they are, but they don’t know where we are. Or who we are, either.”

  “Home field advantage,” Bill King said.

  Kenny slapped his brother on the back. “We hit them hard and fast before we disappear into the woodwork. Then repeat.”

  Russell Thompson added, “It’s what happened in Afghanistan. The Russians eventually withdrew after a bunch of sheepherders broke their will.”

  “It’s still a huge gamble. You’re putting everyone in danger.”

  “They obviously need us for slave labor, so the last thing they’ll want to do is kill off their workers,” Kenny said. “We can take advantage of that.”

  “They’ll hunt you down.”

  “But they’ll never find us. They don’t know this town like we do.”

  Buckley pointed to the side of his neck. “I don’t think you realize that we, unlike you, have trackers in our necks. And explosives.”

  Kenny scoffed. “Damn it, Seth. You’ll believe anything, won’t you?”

  “I’m not following.”

  Kenny pointed at his brother’s neck. “Show him, Bill.”

  Bill turned his head, exposing the left side of his neck.

  Buckley counted six stitches. “You removed it?”

  “Didn’t have to.”

  “Because there’s nothing there,” Kenny said. “They went through all that injection bullshit to convince everyone not to resist. You really didn’t think any of that was real, did you?”

  Buckley didn’t answer right away, shrugging. “Seemed legit to me.”

  “That kind of technology only exists in a James Bond movie, Mayor. None of it was real.”

  “I’m pretty sure it does exist. We just don’t know about it yet. It’s not that far-fetched, with how fast technology is advancing these days.”

  “Even if it did exist, it would cost a fortune to use it on a mass scale like this.”

  Kenny had a point, but Buckley still didn’t believe the man would risk his brother’s life like that. “So let me get this straight. You just took a knife and started digging around your brother’s neck, hoping the implant was fake?”

  “No, dumbass. Your girlfriend Valentina told us,” Kenny said, pointing at the small dinette table in the corner. The First Aid kit was sitting on its surface and had its lid open. A bloody knife sat next to it, with some gauze covered in blood. They’d obviously used it to patch Bill up after cutting into him.

  Bill King pointed at his neck. “Doc Marino’s handiwork.”

  “He’s in on this, too?”

  “Oh yeah, he knows what’s at stake.”

  “Anyone else I should know about?”

  “No, that about covers it.”

  Kenny took a step forward. “I want to keep this small and efficient. Otherwise, the Russians will find out that we know about their fake injections.”

  Buckley wanted to respond, but couldn’t after his mind filled with a scene of a bloody massacre in the town square. Bullets flying everywhere. Bodies ripping apart. Children screaming.

  In his vision, he found himself walking through the grass in horror, the eyes of the dead looking up at him. “Aren’t you forgetting the balloon outside? They’re watching everything we do. They’ll know she came in here and never left.”

  “No, they won’t,” Rico said without hesitation. “It’s centered over the square and their cameras can’t look directly down.”

  “We’re in a blind spot,” Kenny added.

  “You can’t know that for sure.”

  Kenny pointed at the unconscious Valentina. “That’s why you extract information from those who do know.”

  Rico nodded. “She said they’re using it mostly for intimidation.”

  “And to watch the perimeter of town,” Zeke added.

  “A sniper can take it out easily,” Russell said.

  “It’s time someone stands up to them,” Bill King said, now shoulder to shoulder with his brother. “And you, you God damn son-of-a-bitch—we’re tired of your leadership. So consider this your recall election.”

  “I thought we had an understanding, Bill.”

  “What, like we’re friends or something?”

  “More like a coalition for the good of the town.”

  Bill huffed an angry breath. “Not after you testified against my brother in open court.”

  “Look, I wasn’t the one accusing your brother of anything. That was Stan. I was only providing background information.”

  “More like character assassination.”

  Kenny grabbed Buckley by the shirt collar, pulling him forward until the two of them were nose to nose. “Don’t think for a second that I’ve forgotten a single word of what you and Stan said on that stand, Mayor. I’ve had years to plan my revenge.”

  Buckley gulped as the shirt around his chest tightened under the man’s grip.

  Rico put his hand on Kenny’s wrist. “We’re going to need everyone, Kenny. We have to pull together, despite our differences.”

  Kenny hesitated for a few seconds, breathing heavily. He let go of the material with a shove. “Trust me, there will come a time when I take my revenge against all those who stood up against me.”

  “Welcome to the Resistance, Mayor,” Zeke said, moving in front of Kenny.

  Rico and Russell joined him in a show of solidarity.

  CHAPTER 18

  Bunker filled the remaining pouches on one of Tuttle’s tactical vests with ammo magazines, then packed his rucksack with a slew of supplies for his reconnaissance mission. He wasn’t sure what he’d face once he left the compound, but he needed to be prepared.

  Tuttle had stocked the bunker with just about everything a warrior could need, though most of the weapons and gear were civilian models, not the same high-end military-grade equipment he’d trained with. But it would do. At least the Steiner 8x30 binoculars were first-rate, their built in rangefinder and compact size a welcome addition to his load-out.

  He planned to travel weapons-light for speed and agility, needing only a reliable semi-auto handgun and a tactical rifle. He figured a Glock .40 and a 7.62 should be sufficient, mainly because if he found himself in a situation where he needed more firepower, then he’d probably be surrounded and outgunned by a Russian strike team.

  Tuttle had mounted a red-dot Vortex scope on the AR10. He took a moment to consider upgrading to high-powered model, but decided to keep the optics as-is. Long-range marksmanship wasn’t his specialty, so the CQB setup was preferred.

  Where he was going, a Close Quarters Battle was the most likely scenario he’d face. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that, but he took along extra batteries for the scope and magazines just in case.

  Daisy arrived in the supply bunker, her hands buried in her pockets. “Looks like you’re just about ready.”

  “Just need to pack a few more items. I’ll head out at dusk.”

  “Under the cover of darkness. Smart.” She snatched a head-mounted device from the stack next to her and tossed it at him. “Don’t forget this.”

  He caught the night vision goggles in his left hand. “Thanks.” He put the Gen2 device into his pack, along with a change of civilian clothes and a Colorado Rockies ball cap.

  “Think you’ll need those?” she asked.

  “I might have to blend in as a civilian and I can’t do that wearing this,” he said, glancing down at his forest-green camo and rattl
ing gear.

  She hesitated before she spoke again, her eyes watching every movement of his hands. “The Sheriff and Burt have mapped out a plan for you. They’re waiting in Martha’s dining room.”

  “Tell them I’ll be there in a flash.”

  Daisy moved closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, then kissed him on cheek. It was only momentary peck of her lips, but there was feeling behind it.

  “What was that for?” he asked in a whisper.

  Her hug grew tighter. “Just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you stopping by my place and checking on my cat.”

  Not the answer he expected, but it made sense. At least the situation didn’t spin sideways and get emotional. “No problem. I’m headed that way.”

  She let go of the embrace, her eyes focused on the floor around his feet.

  Bunker wondered if his lack of reciprocal hug offended her. “Is there anything else you need me to do, while I’m there?”

  Her eyes came up and met his. “Just make sure the gas is off.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “There are bowls in the cupboard by the sink. Vonda won’t overeat, so go ahead and leave extra food and water for her. That should hold her for a while.”

  “I can bring her back if you’d like.”

  “No. She’ll just slow you down.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Daisy shook her head, though the shrug that followed looked tentative. “She’s only a cat, Bunker. It’s not worth the risk. We’ve got way more important things to deal with right now.”

  Her callous answer was unexpected. The woman had a big heart, that much was clear, but he figured she’d react like most pet owners—overly attached and willing to risk life and limb to save the animal.

  “Will do,” he said, letting the question go so he could shift focus back to his packing.

  “Stephanie and Megan are getting Tango ready.”

  “Excellent. One less thing I have to worry about.”

  “Speaking of worry . . . I don’t think either of them wants you to leave. Things could get a little weird before you head out.”

  Bunker didn’t respond, needing a moment to think.

  “At least that’s the impression I got when I stopped by to check on their progress.”