by J. J. Holden
Choony nodded. “Thanks. I won’t forget this. Just leave a message with Roy, the owner, saying what time you checked in.”
Squirrel nodded in agreement as he put his hand on Choony’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “Let’s all agree to come get the rest of us, if any of us find her, before we move in. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
Choony’s eyes dropped to the floor and he clenched his jaw at the thought of something happening to Jaz.
Lance put his hand on Choony’s other shoulder, then squeezed reassuringly. “You know, the odds are good that when we get back, she’ll be at your house waiting for you, or she’ll have come here looking for you. She’s probably fine, just got lost checking out jewelry or something. Or in her case, maybe a collection of Misfits tee shirts.”
Choony realized they were trying to cheer him up, so he gave them a polite smile. After all, he really was thankful that they were going to help him find her. “Okay. If we find nothing, though, I’m going to have to let the local defense forces know. I don’t know what they’ll do, but what option do I have?”
Squirrel said, “Of course you will. That way, they can keep an eye out for her on their patrols.”
Lance added, “If all else fails, I know a few people here in town, trackers—you might call them bounty hunters—who can help for the right price.” He gave Choony a smile.
Choony nodded. That was a fantastic idea, and one that he had not thought of himself. “Okay, grab your coats and let’s go.”
The three headed out from the hotel and walked toward the market, where the real search would begin.
* * *
Ethan sat in front of his computer, closing down yet another game from his library. It had been weeks since he left the bunker and he was more bored than he ever remembered being before. He reached up and scratched his chin, then rubbed his hand across his cheeks, realizing he hadn’t shaved since his last brush with death.
After the first week down there, he had stopped showering. What was the point? He wasn’t going topside, after all. His last human contact had been with Amber, though she had stopped coming down to visit him after their argument. She somehow knew he was hiding something from her. She had always been adamant about being transparent, and here he was, keeping a secret and spiraling deeper and deeper into depression. Part of him thought she should just go on with her life without him, because as soon as he stuck his head up out of the bunker, he figured whoever was trying to kill him would get the job done at last. The two failed attempts had convinced him that whoever was out there gunning for him wouldn’t stop.
He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, and grew more frustrated as he thought about his situation. If he left the bunker, he died; if he stayed in the bunker, he wasn’t really living. Eventually, he would get so tired of this that he would go topside anyway, damn the torpedoes. At some point, he would simply stop giving a shit.
His computer beeped loudly, causing him to jump in surprise. He looked at the monitor and saw the old green monochrome chat box, a utility the 20s had remotely installed on his system to communicate with him way back when this had all started. He hadn’t heard from Watcher One in a long time, or so it felt.
With a sigh, he leaned forward and clicked the tiny square to bring the chat box to full-screen mode. The green box grew to take up his entire monitor, and as expected, the chat room occupants listed at the top included only Watcher One and himself. Goddammit.
Watcher1 >> Hello Dark Ryder. A little birdie told me you were still “kicking it real” with the Clan. I was disappointed to see that you didn’t retire.
Ethan immediately noticed that Watcher One was chatting in real English. Something wasn’t quite right. Though it was unsettling, Ethan responded in kind.
Dark Ryder >> Yeah, early retirement seemed pointless, what with the general trying to take out the Confederation anyway. Instead, I stuck around to kick him in the nuts. Figure of speech, but you know what I mean.
Watcher1 >> I understand completely. I’m sure my actions over the last two years have been somewhat confusing, but let’s not talk about that. You should know that it isn’t Gen. Houle who’s trying to kill you now. You can blame Maryland for that.
Dark Ryder >> Maryland… Why would they target me, specifically? Besides, they’re putting tons of pressure on us right now. I don’t think they would be concerned with just little old me.
Watcher1 >> The Mountain has passed certain information to the Maryland invaders’ leader. Some of it was even true, but all of it was meant to inspire them to break the status quo. It worked, it seems, because now they got their finger in your Kool-Aid.
Ethan looked at the ceiling and spat curses. Goddammit… No doubt Watcher One had been instrumental in arranging communication between Houle and Maryland, too. As far as Ethan could tell, Watcher remained in Virginia somewhere, well within the Maryland invaders’ sphere of influence.
Dark Ryder >> So why are they targeting me, specifically? I’m tired of beating around the bush. Let’s just lay it out there. Why does Maryland want me dead any more than some other Clanner?
Watcher1 >> As far as I can tell, it’s just a favor to Houle in return for the information he sent them. They seem awfully buddy-buddy for the self-declared American president and an invading warlord. But what do I know?
Dark Ryder >> So how did you find out about all this? Kind of makes me wonder. And what’s in it for you?
Watcher1 >> Let’s be real. I know about it because I’m the one who sent the information to Maryland for the 20s and forwarded your information to them at the 20s’ directions. I do work for them, after all. As long as we’re being honest, I should let you know that the 20s ordered me to try to kill you any way I can. I figure you deserve to know what’s coming at you, and why. I don’t look forward to it, but it is what it is. I’ve enjoyed our games.
Dark Ryder >> If you’re so keen to kill me, why tell me you’re coming? I imagine your 20s masters won’t be happy with that.
Watcher1 >> Oh, this chat utility uses P2P and tunneling. My watchers aren’t watching at the moment, so this is just between us. I’ve respected you since even before I recruited you to the 20s, before all this crap began.
Dark Ryder >> Good to know. Thanks for the heads-up. I don’t know what games you’re playing, but I assume you have a reason for playing them. So, what would you do if I decided not to sit around here and just wait to die? What if I decided I should entertain myself in my final days by taking you out with me? Not that I hate you, or anything, but mostly for something to do before I die. Plus, turnabout is fair play.
Watcher1 >> You are welcome to try. Who knows, maybe I deserve it. I certainly feel like I do. Still, I’m not going to just wait for you to come. Let’s do this! Let’s entertain ourselves with some good old-fashioned spy-versus-spy shenanigans. Whoops, my babysitter is waking up. Bye-bye.
>>Connection terminated<<
Ethan stared at the monitor, dumbfounded. Did that really just happen? It was seriously disconcerting to see Watcher One chatting in real English instead of “leet-speak” the entire time. It made the whole conversation feel somewhat ominous. But what was he going to do about all of that? Then, an idea struck him. He grinned, and padded softly to the shower. He needed to be presentable when he went topside tomorrow.
If he didn’t die before he started playing his game with Watcher One, he would at least entertain himself before he went, and remove a thorn from the Clan’s side.
- 12 -
0600 HOURS - ZERO DAY +630
CASSY AWOKE TO gentle shaking. She cracked her eyelids open and found herself squinting at the window; it was still dark out. She turned to look at whomever had woken her, and saw Michael looking down on her as he sat at the edge of her bed. “What… Is something happening?” She could barely make her tongue form the words.
In the dim light, she saw Michael smile, but even through her sleep fog, she knew him well enough to see that he was
tense.
“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that the increased scouts you authorized are working.”
Cassy rubbed her eyes and felt little scratchy bits of sleep sand fall away. “I need to know this now?” she said.
“One of the scout teams radioed in. The Maryland invaders have about a battalion of troops, split into three separate companies, advancing through the open area east of Clanholme. Their direction of travel suggests they’re headed toward Lititz.”
“What’s in Lititz worth raiding?” Cassy said. It was too early for this…
“We don’t know whether that’s their target or if they’ll just stumble across it, but they’ll be there within an hour. I’m keeping all the Clan troops here. But we have enough Confederation forces to engage them, so that means the Confederation chancellor needs to make a decision.”
Cassy let out a huff. Why had he awoken her for this? Of course they should intercept the Maryland raiding party. But then she froze, as a thought struck her. What if the Confederation force didn’t move to intercept… Lititz surely had enough troops to hold off a battalion, but more importantly, a raid on Lititz would alert everyone in the Confederation that the Maryland invaders weren’t just a Clan problem. Interesting. Of course, if they found out she hadn’t sent troops when she could have, the result would be pretty catastrophic.
Cassy looked Michael in the eyes and said, “Who else knows about this?”
“No one but me, you, and half a dozen scouts. It was a Clan battle car patrolling the frontier area who first noticed the raiders.”
Quietly, she said, “I think it’s best if we keep that between us. I think for the good of everyone, sometimes it’s best to let things happen on their own. They would leave Clanholme to fend for itself, so let’s remind them what it feels like to stand alone.”
Michael nodded. “Of course. Understood.”
Cassy felt her brain coming back on line. “See if you can direct that scout unit to some other area, far from Lititz, and then keep them the hell out of Clanholme. Maybe there’s a long-range recon thing you could put them on that might distract them for, say, another week?”
Michael stood and brushed his shirt and trousers straight with his palms. “Of course. I have the perfect assignment for them. After all, the Confederation’s southwest territory needs patrolling, too. I’ll handle the arrangements.”
Michael then headed for the stairs down to Cassy’s living room. At the archway that led to the stairwell landing, he turned and looked at Cassy once again. “I know this isn’t an easy choice for you, but for what it’s worth, I think you made the right decision.”
* * *
Ethan stood behind the pavilion that covered the Clan’s outdoor kitchen and waited. The morning breakfast line was beginning to form, and as new people joined the line, he scanned each person’s face while he waited. He had to wait about a half hour before he caught sight of Amber and her daughter, Kaitlyn, getting in line.
For some reason, he felt rather nervous. Probably because he hadn’t been topside in far too long, he told himself. He calmed his nerves by straightening his shirt, double checking that his belt buckle was in the right place, and general fidgeting. It gave him a good opportunity to catch his breath and try to calm down. Based on his conversation with Watcher One, he had good reason to believe he had a window of opportunity to leave his bunker. They would come for him, but not today. How many assets and resources had they already wasted, trying to kill him? No, the next attempt would be well organized… and final.
As Amber got closer to the serving stations, Ethan stepped out from behind the pavilion and walked up to her. She didn’t see him at first, but when he was a couple feet away, he coughed once hoping to get her attention.
She turned by reflex and when her eyes met his, there was a brief moment of confusion before her face lit into a smile. He gave her a broad smile back and patted Kaitlyn on the head.
Amber said, “The troll emerges from its cave.”
Ethan shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. “I was missing you.”
“I missed you.”
He smiled. “I needed to see you again.”
They both remained quiet. Ethan didn’t know what else to say. He knew she was upset with him and knew perfectly well he’d have to answer for his behavior lately, as she wasn’t the docile doormat type. He wished he had told her about the assassination attempts. Now, for the first time in a long time, he was nervous to talk to Amber.
As the chow line advanced, they reached the serving stations. Each took a plastic tray salvaged from nearby fast food joints and received their morning helping of the Clan’s simple but hearty chow.
Finally, Kaitlyn broke the tension. She smiled up at him and said, “Hugs.” She lifted her arms in the universal symbol for kids wanting to be picked up.
He chuckled and crouched down, then scooped her up in his right arm. His left hand was occupied with holding a tray precariously. “And how is my favorite little girl, today? I missed you.” He gave her a deliberate smile.
“Good,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.
Amber, carrying two trays, smiled at the spontaneous display of affection. “Well, I see somebody missed you.”
After they got their food served, he followed Amber to an empty table and set his tray down, then managed to sit while setting Kaitlyn on his lap, in one fluid movement. Amber slid her daughter’s tray across the table, setting it next to Ethan’s, and Kaitlyn began to squirm on his lap trying to get at the food.
Ethan chuckled. It was amazing how much he had missed this. Some small part of him felt it would be better to die than to live the rest of his life in a dingy cave separated from his two best girls. He sat, enjoying their company, breathing the fresh air and seeing the vibrant signs of life all around him as the Clan came together to enjoy their communal meal. They may kill him soon, but he was going to actually live, in the meantime. Really live.
Amber poked at her eggs quietly for a moment as Ethan interacted happily with Kaitlyn, just watching the two of them together. At last, she said, “So, you want to tell me why you’ve been hiding out down there?”
Ethan glanced at her and saw she wore no smile. He looked down at Kaitlyn sitting on his lap. “How ’bout you go say ‘good morning’ to Uncle Michael? He looks like he could use some company.”
Before Kaitlyn could respond, Amber said, “No, Kaitlyn, stay here.” Amber looked at Ethan. “Kaitlyn has a right to know why you’ve been hiding yourself away and not talking with us like a family.”
Ethan sighed. “The truth is…” he started. He looked down at Kaitlyn again and decided to cup his hands over Kaitlyn’s ears.
Amber rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything.
“The truth is, someone’s trying to kill me.”
Amber’s eyes went wide. “What? Are you sure?”
“They’ve tried twice already, the first time killing the wrong person, the second time killing a hapless donkey. And they’re still after me.” Ethan took his hands from Kaitlyn’s ears.
Unblinking, and not taking her eyes off of Ethan’s, Amber said, “Kaitlyn, honey, um… why don’t you go say ‘good morning’ to your Uncle Michael.”
Kaitlyn slid off Ethan’s lap and he handed the tray of food to her. She carried her tray off toward where Michael was sitting. Once she was out of earshot, Amber said, “Dammit, Ethan. You didn’t think you could trust me with that?”
Ethan looked down, cheeks flushing warm with shame. “I didn’t want you to stop coming around. But you did anyway. I know you’re not the kind of person who can abide that sort of behavior. I want you to know that I’m sorry. I really regret it, and I regret missing this time with you and Kaitlyn.”
When he finished, she replied, “So, what changed your mind?”
“About what?”
“I mean, here you are braving the great outdoors with all the risks that it entails. What changed between
yesterday and today?”
Ethan looked her in the eyes for a moment as he tried to decide how honest to be. In the end, though, he decided honesty was the best policy. If he was going to die soon, she deserve to know how and why. He slowly nodded his head as he came to his decision. He said, “I was finally contacted by Watcher One through the old green chat box. He let me know that General Houle is gunning for me. He also said he disagrees with that decision, and while he understood the ‘games’ he and I played before, there was no purpose to it now.”
“What does that matter? He’s still after you, I imagine. Who cares if it makes him feel bad?”
“He said he’d had orders to communicate with the Maryland invaders and to provide them with information that would help them attack the Confederation.”
“You’re ignoring my question…”
“It seems one of Houle’s agents is there with him in his Virginia bunker, so he had little choice but to comply.”
“And that would make you less dead because… why?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that this is what precipitated all this nonsense with the southern invaders. So now, Watcher One and I are engaged in a friendly and deadly game of spy-versus-spy. I think I failed to understand him earlier, back during the last few wars we’ve had with our neighbors, but maybe I understand him a little better now. And no, that changes nothing.”
She raised her eyebrows and took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out slowly. “Oh my God, Ethan. That’s… That’s quite a story. It seems that Houle is an even bigger prick than we thought. Someone needs to do something about that guy.”