Starting the Slowpocalypse (Books 1-3 Omnibus)

by James Litherland

  Caroline turned on her cream-on-her-whiskers smile. “Darling.” Then her chin lifted a little, and she gazed across the studio.

  By now a few more technicians had wandered in to tinker, and Caroline’s secretary had entered with the producer to go over some papers. The place had begun to bustle. None of that was what had attracted Caroline’s attention, though.

  Kat followed her mother’s line of sight. Striding toward them was a tall, dashing figure with thick black hair and a slightly Latin look. Tony.

  As he approached, Caroline adjusted her skirt again and favored him with the full, gleaming white version of her smile. “Speak of the handsome devil,” her mother quipped, batting her eyelashes.

  Tony grinned at both of them. “Care, have you and Kat been talking about me?”

  “No,” Kat said right away, stepping on any response her mother might make. She knew Tony had a reputation as a Romeo—it was unfounded, but she didn’t want to encourage him. She realized she was pressing her lips together and willed herself to relax. “We were only discussing how I should be returning to Security. Under the circumstances.”

  Tony rubbed his chin while he stared into space. “You understand things will be different now, more difficult.” He looked at Kat. “We’d love to have you back, of course. But it’s your choice.”

  There was that word again. Kat looked Tony in the eye and gave him a slow nod she knew he would understand. She had what she wanted.

  Tony shifted back to Caroline. “You look rested.” Kat heard something beneath those words, but she didn’t catch the meaning.

  Caroline gave him a level look. “I slept. Unlike you and Miles.”

  Tony grinned. “Do I look like I need sleep?” He held out his arms to show them both how sharp he was dressed.

  Caroline smiled at him again. “I wish Miles had learned something about fashion from you. That man can make the finest suit look rumpled just by wearing it.”

  “Care, you’re just frustrated because you could never make Miles do anything he didn’t want to do.” Then Tony became serious. “The reason I came.”

  Kat noticed that everyone in the studio seemed to have gone quiet and drifted closer. “Tony—”

  He waved her back while staring at her mother. “Since I’m responsible for maintaining order, Caroline, I want to ask you to coordinate with me. Help people stay calm. This is a stressful time for everyone. We need to make sure people understand that everything possible is being done.”

  Caroline lost her smile. “I don’t care to do your job for you. Or the director’s job for that matter. I’m not going to parrot the party line, nor will I sugar-coat anything. This community deserves to know the facts, and I’m going to give them the truth. I’m a journalist.”

  A journalist? Kat’s mother was reinventing herself again, and it was ridiculous. Worse, everyone was eavesdropping on the performance—but Caroline loved playing a part.

  Tony seemed only partially perturbed. “Look, Care. No one’s asking you to peddle propaganda. Just be responsible.” Fat chance. “Don’t get people worked up is all.”

  Kat couldn’t believe Tony was trying this line with her mother. He should have known better. He certainly knew Caroline well enough to understand what could be expected of the woman.

  Caroline flashed a glance at her daughter. Turning back to Tony, she batted her eyes. “Then Miles had better hurry up and resolve the situation, before people start getting worked up. It’s calm right now, but when everyone starts feeling the reality, they’ll get frustrated. We’re closed off from the world outside and besieged. People will get scared and angry. Will you blame them?”

  Tony looked at her. “Isn’t it your responsibility to do something about it?”

  “It’s Miles’ job to take care of the problem, and before he’s got a mob with pitchforks and torches coming after him.”

  Kat realized everybody was looking grim and no wonder. They all remembered the videos of the riots in Miami before the National Guard moved in. And then there had been no more, videos, at least. Kat forced herself not to shiver. Her father and Tony would not let that happen here.

  Caroline stared straight at Tony as she made her final point. “Tell Miles he won’t get a free pass from me. My responsibility is to this community. And if everything does fall apart, he’ll have only himself to blame.”

  Tony locked eyes with her for a long moment. “Just make sure you don’t go picking up any pitchforks yourself, Care. Or fan any flames.”

  Caroline turned to reassess herself on the monitor. The royal dismissal. Tony backed away several steps, casting a quick look at Kat. She drifted away from the stage with him, as the rest of the audience dissolved, too. Show over.

  Tony turned to Kat and whispered a suggestion in her ear. “Let’s have a private chat.”

  She looked around the busy studio for a place of privacy. A far corner looked dim and deserted, with piles of cables strewn over the floor. Kat picked her way through the treacherous footing, confident that Tony wouldn’t have any trouble navigating himself to the secluded spot.

  When they were where they wouldn’t be overheard, Kat studied Tony’s face. “You wanted a word, Boss?” She crossed her arms and waited.

  Tony sighed and rubbed his hand up and down his face. “Kat, your mother’s right. People are going to get scared and angry, and it won’t just be difficult out there. It’ll be dangerous.”

  Kat pursed her lips. This wasn’t the conversation she had expected. “Do you think I’ll flinch at danger?” This was ridiculous. “Tony, you know me better than that.”

  “Wait.” Tony put his hands out. “Hear me out. I do know what you’re capable of.” He let his hands drop. “That’s why I want to make you a full security officer. If you come back.”

  Kat snorted. “Of course I’m coming back. And I get it, Tony, really I do—promoting me means putting me on the front lines. You worry.” She grinned. “But you need me, or you wouldn’t have dangled the lure of danger to reel me in.”

  Tony shook his head. “I only have three trained officers, and that won’t be enough. The rest are all student volunteers. Reliable, but—”

  Kat cocked her head at him. “You don’t think they’ll be up to the challenge?”

  “Just the opposite, Kat. But they need training, and I think you’d make quite a good teacher.” Tony squinted at her. “I’ve known you since you were a little girl. In many ways you’re better trained than my experienced officers.”

  Kat wasn’t sure she cared for the qualification, but Tony should know how well she’d been trained, since he had been the one training her since she was that little girl. She felt her heart quicken. A security officer, patrolling the community and taking care of troublemakers—and she’d get to help train the new officers, too.

  “I’ve already promised my mother that I’d continue working here part-time.” Kat glanced back across the studio at Caroline. “And I wouldn’t put it past her to try and strong arm me into more. I don’t think she likes me working for Security.”

  Tony nodded. “Your mother’s definitely a force to be reckoned with. But do you remember the first thing I taught you?”

  Kat smiled. “How to fall.” She’d learned how to avoid getting hurt. And she’d learned how to turn a disadvantage to her favor.

  Tony finally grinned. “You got pretty good at ground fighting. So I trust you can deal with your mother.”

  “I may even manage to get out of this job altogether.” Kat lifted her chin and looked Tony in the eye. “After all, one of your advanced lessons was how to fight in tight corners.” She noticed he had to stifle a laugh.

  “Okay, when you’ve finished here, come over to headquarters. We’ll do an abbreviated orientation and set you up with a schedule.”

  “You can count on me, Tony.” Kat couldn’t stop grinning.

  Chapter 3

  This is Hardly Working

  3:35 p.m. Tuesday, November 26th

  DAVID san
k back against the wall into the limited shade it offered and took a long drink from his water bottle. He dared not stop for too long. Otherwise his crew would quit working altogether, though he doubted it would make much difference.

  Before dawn, when it’d still felt cool, even chilly, he’d shifted the markers to set off the little they’d managed to finish yesterday, and the area he hoped his crew could complete by the end of the day. They had yet to accomplish a third of their goal. Now the day’s exertion made the air seem hot, and the sun burned like summer. And in a little over an hour the cart would arrive to take his crew away.

  David looked down the wall to his left where the two guards also slumped in the shade, their arms hanging loose and their rifles resting on the ground. He didn’t think they’d moved for hours. The sight hardly inspired much confidence his crew would be safe, but complaining to their superior had achieved nothing.

  Grimacing, he noticed Sgt. Rossiter had returned and was stalking back and forth between fence and wall beyond the markers, head down as he fiddled with his FURCS pad. Wherever the man had been for the past couple of hours, he could still be credited with a greater level of activity than his subordinates.

  David chided himself for having uncharitable thoughts. His own failings frustrated him more than anything, because he knew he was falling behind in the vital work they were doing, not living up to the responsibility he’d been given. But there was no use beating himself up, either. His weary body aching, he forced himself to stand and straighten his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward into the sun as he looked around to see how his own men were doing.

  Jeffrey, wearing his big floppy hat, was out near the security fence, squatting down as he adjusted the grass where one of the first sensors had been placed. The landscaper had insisted that he alone examine the finished work. He’d arrived well after lunch and started fixing each individual blade of grass to suit. No wonder the Green always looked so perfect.

  They’d planned it so none of the crew would be trampling over completed ground. David’s job was to make sure the recruits cut the sod carefully and dug the proper holes, then he would come behind them planting the motion detectors. Jeffrey would follow, fixing what needed to be fixed.

  David would’ve preferred working on his own—he could do the job faster and cleaner than his crew. Especially when they’d only managed to find fifteen students who’d been willing. Most had chosen less demanding options for pitching in.

  But when Ken had started them off on Monday morning he’d made his position perfectly clear. David was a supervisor and needed to spend his time teaching his men how to do the job and do it right, rather than barging in and doing it himself. Though Jeffrey wouldn’t have to spend so much time fixing the volunteers’ work if David did it all instead. Or if he did a better job of showing them how.

  He stopped worrying about Jeffrey and tried to assess how his crew was getting along. He spotted Greg, a fellow freshman, attempting to cut sod by smashing at it with his spade. Here, at least, David could do some good. He walked over and rested his hand on Greg’s shoulder until Greg ceased his struggle with the soil.

  “Here—” David took the spade from him. “It’s no good attacking the ground, no matter how frustrated you are.” He mimed the way Greg had been using his arms to drive the blade down. “You’ll only wear yourself out without accomplishing anything.”

  David checked to see that Greg was paying close attention. “First, place the blade against the ground where you want to cut the sod, but place it at an angle. Like this.” As he demonstrated, he saw the tool was getting blunt. He’d have to remember to get the kid a new spade as soon as he finished here.

  “Now, see the place at the top of the blade where it’s wide like a step. That’s exactly how you should think of it.” David rested his foot on the hilt of the blade. “You’ve got more power in your leg muscles than your arms, so you’d get further trying to kick the blade into the ground.” David stomped with his heel.

  “But you want to make things even easier since you’ll be doing this a lot.” David tried to grin. “So let gravity do most of the work. Lift your weight up on your left foot, and place your right a little above the back of the spade—just like that—and kick as you shift your weight down on your right, shoving the spade in.”

  He suited action to words. The blade slid clean through the sod and into the earth beneath. “It may take a bit to get the hang of it, but it’s a trick worth learning.” David patted Greg on the back and went to look for that new spade.

  He started crossing the grass toward the mound of tools and other supplies stacked against the wall. Their base camp. On Saturday, Jeffrey and he had transported the boxes of sensors and other needed equipment to a convenient spot. The crew arrived in the morning and dropped their gear there—and returned for lunch and rest breaks, too, since the food and water tank were at the base camp.

  “David!”

  David stopped, closing his eyes briefly to pray. That was his Mt. Everest calling. Or perhaps the job was the mountain and Eric the cold, harsh wind. Whatever the correct analogy was, David turned to face it.

  “What’s the problem, Eric?”

  Stan and Jake, two of Eric’s friends, stood next to a hole, leaning on their tools, sweating and trying to grin. They’d managed that much better earlier in the day. Eric pointed down at the hole. “Is that deep enough?”

  David came and looked, and he would’ve sighed if he had the energy left. “After you remove the sod layer, you dig down another four inches at least, but no more than six.”

  Which he’d demonstrated for everyone yesterday when they’d started and repeated this morning for Eric and some of the others. “And you need to make sure the bottom of the hole is level.” He figured he’d best repeat that now, and maybe it would take this time. At least they were finally cutting the sod in the right size square.

  Eric looked down at the hole for a long moment. “Is that six inches? I can’t tell.”

  Jake snickered. Before he realized what he was doing, David had snatched the hoe away from him. I must be more tired than I thought. He couldn’t be so short with men who’d volunteered to help, even if that assistance didn’t amount to much.

  David placed the business end of the hoe down the side of the hole. “Both the spades and the hoes are eight inches long—the metal part.” Best to be clear with this lot.

  “So you can see this hole only comes up about a fourth of that, or about two inches. When it reaches at least halfway, then you can stop and start leveling the bottom.” He stopped when he realized he didn’t have their full attention. “Look. If you keep digging until the hole comes most of the way up the blade, you’ll just have to fill back in.” That at least should get through to them.

  Eric gave him a hard look, then stuck his spade in to show he understood and started gently lifting out little scoopfuls of dirt. David handed Jake back his hoe. He wondered why these three had bothered to sign up, since they clearly didn’t want to do any actual work.

  He nodded around at them. “Once you’ve finished here, take a short break. Get some water and shade before you move on.” He had to make sure they all stayed sufficiently hydrated.

  David turned and resumed his journey toward base camp, casting a final eye over his crew’s efforts. At least two new holes should be ready by the time he’d returned. He’d pick up a couple of the motion detectors to bring back, along with a new spade for Greg, and then he could check on the others’ progress. Then he would plant the sensors. And if he ended up spending some extra time adjusting the work that had already been done, it would be preferable to having his crew redo it. Particularly when he was this tired.

  He wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve and drained the last of his water as he passed the markers. He slid the bottle back into the holster at his belt, and his fingers brushed the towel hanging there—that he could have used instead of his sleeve. Maybe he needed to spend a few minutes out of th
e sun.

  David sighed as he sat down on the back bench of the small cart he’d driven here in the wee hours. Thankfully it had a canopy to provide some shade. He took his time refilling his water bottle as he let his eyes drift around. Sgt. Rossiter had disappeared once more, and the guards remained as immobile as they’d ever been. David wondered if their attitude had anything to do with the complicated schedule.

  His crew was the only one working outside the perimeter wall. In addition to the protection detail, a system had been set up for when and how to open what gates, depending on which section of the buffer zone they were working on a given day. One of the large carts picked up the students and brought them out in the morning and came to take them back in the afternoon. That alone would’ve been simple.

  David wanted to arrive much earlier than his crew, though, and leave later. Ken needed to have access anytime to check on things, and Jeffrey didn’t know from day to day when he could come to do his part. And which gate would be most convenient for everybody to use would keep changing, too.

  Still, everyone needed to do their part, and the guards were falling down on the job, or would be if the wall wasn’t propping them up. David sighed and let his head lean back as he set aside his gripes.

  After a moment his head snapped up. He could not continue like that or he’d end up more confused and disoriented than he was already becoming. He forced himself to keep drinking more water and just sitting there in the shade. He tried to sit up straighter and focus his thoughts on the supplies he’d need to gather and what he’d do once he returned to the work area. It would be more peaceful once the cart had come and taken his crew away. Maybe he could cheat and get some of their work done.

  “David!” Eric’s voice.