Starting the Slowpocalypse (Books 1-3 Omnibus)

by James Litherland

  He sighed and hurried down the sidewalk. He hadn’t wanted to disappoint Ken any more than he had to, so he’d left the timing close. Now he needed to rush. He trotted along, wolfing down the freshly charred hotdogs even though they might be his last. Next week they’d likely be reduced to barbequing tilapia filets or frozen frog legs.

  By now, Sgt. Rossiter would be eating his own dinner at the Guard HQ, presuming he stuck to the schedule he’d followed all week. This was the first time David would try to follow him on a Sunday. If he managed to arrive in time to position himself for trailing the sergeant when he left, if he left, maybe he’d have more success tonight.

  It had been a frustrating week. As David strode down the sidewalk, he reflected on how little he had accomplished in his effort to find evidence of what Rossiter was doing. Which might be expected, since he had no real idea what he was doing himself. He consoled himself with the fact that others also knew of his suspicions—he’d talked with Lt. Henson, his mother and somewhat with Ken. It wasn’t all on his shoulders.

  Still, the lieutenant hadn’t sounded as if he was prepared to actually do anything, and Ken certainly wouldn’t. David’s mother had said there was little she could do, but she’d report what he’d confided in her to whomever might be responsible for dealing with it, for whatever good that might do. But David didn’t feel that was enough.

  So he’d refrained from telling her he intended to investigate on his own, though he’d no clue what he might be able to do, or how. The FURCSnet restricted access to the personnel records, and without the ability to connect to the real web, any details about Rossiter and Gray that were surely out there somewhere were beyond David’s reach. And he couldn’t very well go around asking questions about them.

  He turned the corner onto the main thoroughfare and looked carefully both ways before crossing to the other side, even though the street was empty of any hint of traffic. Everyone was saving their gas for the day the gates might open again. He hustled toward the perimeter, checking his watch and praying he’d be in time to catch the sergeant.

  After considering the problem, David had realized his best, if not only, hope of finding something was to follow the sergeant again—but he dared not trail the man around in the daytime. If Sgt. Rossiter had spotted him that first time, the man could’ve chalked it up to coincidence. He should have if he’d heard about David’s lunch with Lt. Henson.

  But David couldn’t risk being noticed anymore, even if he’d been willing to skip out on work, which he wasn’t. Thankfully, the job chugged along more smoothly now. He’d even got his crew to know what they were doing, well enough that he didn’t have to supervise them so much, and he could sneak in doing some more of the work himself. So he didn’t feel bad when he clocked out with his crew rather than work late.

  Since he couldn’t follow Rossiter around in the day, he would have to do it at night, and that meant changing his schedule. So for the past week, he had been going home for an early supper, chatting with Crystal in the kitchen, and then taking a catnap before heading out to find the sergeant.

  On Monday, David had tried chatting with the not particularly pleasant guards on duty, and with a little patience he’d teased out what he needed—the fact that Rossiter regularly took his evening repast around dusk in the cafeteria at the Guard HQ. And that had given him his starting point.

  He didn’t know much about how to go around following someone, but Monday evening he’d found a spot in a shadow of a nearby building where he’d thought he’d be able to spy the sergeant coming out of the HQ without being observed himself. David had seen the man leave, but tailing him had turned out to be more difficult.

  From the beginning he’d practiced prudence, preferring the risk of losing the sergeant to the risk of being seen. And he had lost him. Six nights in a row, and David hadn’t discovered any evidence, but since he always ended up losing track of the man, he didn’t know what he might be missing.

  But after last night, he believed there was something to be missed. He was considering whether he would need a new strategy if tonight’s effort failed when he caught sight of Rossiter leaving the back of the HQ and heading toward the barracks. Once the sergeant was inside, David sauntered over to a different shadow that offered a better vantage point.

  So far, Rossiter had stuck to his routine. If he continued as usual, the sergeant would soon reappear. If he bedded down for the night though, David would be standing around for a long time.

  He wished he could check his watch. But he worried that the bright illumination would give him away. It wasn’t long, though, before Rossiter came out carrying his duffle bag, as he had on three previous occasions. Each evening that the sergeant had taken his bag before, he’d then taken the tram to the Rec Center.

  Not wanting to take any chances, David waited until he was sure Rossiter was headed for the stop just shy of the main thoroughfare. Then he walked off in the opposite direction.

  One of his preparations had been memorizing the tram stations and schedule, and as soon as he was too far away for the sergeant to notice, David started his sprint. He reached the station outside the Tech Center before the tram. A gaggle of students waited there, and his breathless arrival might have attracted attention from others, but these people were so absorbed in their own discussions that David might as well have been invisible.

  And they themselves would make good camouflage. David circled to the far side of the group and positioned himself to snag a seat just behind them, so the crowd would hopefully shield him from Rossiter’s notice. He only hoped he’d still be able to see the sergeant get on and off.

  The tram pulled to a stop and the students all rushed on board, cramming together in the middle segments. Rossiter was waiting at the next station. He jumped onto the front car, avoiding the students like the plague and making things easier for David. For the moment.

  Snaking through the compound, and stopping several times, it took the tram nearly half an hour to reach the Rec Center, where the sergeant did indeed jump off. David waited for everyone else to disembark, only hopping off himself when the tram began to pull away. So far, so good. The next part, though, caused him to sweat just thinking about it.

  Three times he had followed Rossiter here, and each time he’d been forced to make a difficult decision about what to do. The massive square edifice was three stories high and filled with an assortment of rooms equipped for all different kinds of sports and exercise. David didn’t come here, because he got more exercise than he wanted at work, but it was one of the few places where residents of all stripes mingled freely.

  The first time, David had presumed the crowd would help conceal him from the sergeant, but he hadn’t considered how effectively it would also hide the man he was following. Keeping a safe distance from Rossiter as he entered, he’d then found himself in a futile search. He’d wandered through the building aimlessly, finding Eric and his toadies pumping iron, but hope as he might he’d found not a glimpse of the sergeant. Eventually he’d had to give up and go home.

  The second time, David had followed Rossiter into the place as close behind as he dared, and he’d kept track of the man for a while but still lost him in the crowd. If Rossiter had come for an illicit rendezvous, David despaired of actually finding out. Then yesterday evening, David had changed tactics once again. If he couldn’t catch the sergeant having a clandestine meeting with someone, maybe he could at least find out where the man went next, and maybe that would give him a new lead to follow.

  So after Rossiter and his duffle bag entered the building, David had searched for a convenient spot to surveil the main entrance and wait for the man to exit. But he never saw the sergeant leave.

  He had waited until they closed up at eleven and cleared everyone out of the building, and there had been no sign of Rossiter. He’d considered different explanations for how that might have happened. He couldn’t believe the sergeant had bribed someone to let him stay, since it would only draw attention, and ach
ieved nothing as far as David could imagine.

  From his previous visits, he knew there were a couple other exits, but those were inconvenient and meant only for staff—which left one obvious conclusion in David’s mind. Whatever business Rossiter might’ve had inside the building, he’d left by a discreet exit, to avoid being followed. David sweated now because that made him nervous.

  It made him feel sure the sergeant was engaged in something, something which he would take great pains to hide from prying eyes. It raised a question, though—whether Rossiter suspected someone was following him, or whether he was taking such precautions as a matter of routine.

  Either possibility was disturbing. The first one suggested the sergeant might have twigged to David’s tail. The second possibility implied Rossiter was up to something just as serious as David’s most dire speculations.

  Tonight might be the best opportunity to find out what that was. Last night, David had returned home late—and feeling pretty pale at the implications of his own thoughts. He’d found his mother waiting up for him. She had seemed a bit blanched from her own ordeal—there’d been a near riot at the Community Hall, and she had worried about him. She didn’t want him wandering about late at night. David didn’t want that either, and if tonight didn’t pan out, perhaps he’d be able to think of a different avenue of investigation.

  He’d planned out what to do after morning services. He’d filled up at lunch with his mom since he intended skipping dinner with Ken’s crew. After he finished eating, he’d traveled to the Rec Center and searched thoroughly to make sure there were only the two exits besides the main entrance. Then he’d scoped out a good spot where he could keep an eye on both of those staff doors, a warehouse with poor exterior lighting.

  David headed there now for his stakeout. He didn’t know how soon Rossiter might emerge, so he prepared for a long wait. He leaned up against the building, and after propping up the wall for several minutes, his eyes snapped open and he realized he’d fallen asleep—at least he hoped it had only been a few minutes. He didn’t dare check his watch.

  Long days of hard work and long nights of this business and precious little sleep were all catching up with him, and now he could’ve missed his best opportunity for all he knew. He pinched himself. He breathed deeply of the crisp night air, leaning forward away from the building. He had to do this right.

  He stretched a little to stay limber and twisted his head from side to side. Easing the crick from his neck was how he happened to catch a glimpse of the shadowy figure of Rossiter in the distance. He had missed the man.

  David plunged into the night after the sergeant. The man must have slipped out the far staff door while David was nodding off—and he wasn’t carrying his duffel bag anymore. David thanked God that he’d noticed Rossiter’s shape in the darkness when he had—especially since he’d been looking for the silhouette of a man with a duffel. His curiosity was piqued by that absence, but he’d have to ponder that problem later.

  As he scanned the night for the sergeant, he began to worry that he’d lost the man already. Again. David slowed his pace and squinted into the darkness, and as his eyes searched so did his mind, for some idea of where Rossiter might be headed.

  When the sergeant had left the Rec Center, he would have believed himself free of observation. So he would have had no reason to disguise his direction. And he’d headed south.

  So David strolled along that same way, trying to think, to test the possibilities while looking keenly into the shadows. The path he took would lead past the back entrance of the Community Hall. Plenty of important people there, but as early in the evening as it still was, it would likely be busy, too busy.

  When David approached the building, he saw that indeed several people came and went, and for that very reason he doubted the sergeant had gone inside. Too public for anything private. He kept his head low, though, and avoided making eye contact with anyone as he walked past casting casual looks about. He didn’t see Rossiter, who was probably far ahead of him by now.

  He had likely missed his chance. He continued to search, but found no indication of the sergeant’s presence anywhere. The walkway he trod turned to follow a residential street that would curve around toward the main thoroughfare and end up near the main gate and the Guard HQ. Rossiter could be headed back to the barracks.

  David considered a more promising possibility. This more upscale section of the community housed most of the prominent residents, including his own mother and the director himself. Of course, if he discovered the sergeant meeting secretly with the director, then David would know he had got hold of the wrong end of the stick altogether. He snickered silently at the thought.

  However, other leaders of FURC and the wider community lived around here. Any of which might make sense as a possible conspirator, but unless he happened to come upon Rossiter sneaking in or out of one of these homes, David had no clue who that might be. So he just walked on. Eventually, though, if he just kept going on, he’d only finish up where he began.

  He saw no point to traveling that far. Even if he did see the sergeant returning to the barracks, that wouldn’t tell David anything. He resisted admitting defeat. He slowed his pace and started to meander through the neighborhood, hoping for something.

  He saw his mother’s house and veered in a wide circle around it. He didn’t want to answer awkward questions about what he was doing, when he wasn’t sure he knew himself right now. He thought of his comfortable bed and the rest he clearly needed.

  He stopped and knelt. He pretended to tie his bootlaces while he considered. He could continue wandering around the neighborhood in the hope he chanced to see Rossiter—and make himself look suspicious in the process. David thought he’d best give up, go home and get some sleep.

  He began to rise and head back when he froze. Sgt. Rossiter. David witnessed the sergeant sneak out someone’s back door and slink away—off into the night. And it was David’s own home Rossiter had left.

  He remained stuck there in a half crouch, heart racing as a sudden image of his mother lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood leaped into his head. Rossiter’s shadow was already disappearing across the next lawn. David would hunt the man down like the animal he was if David’s mom had been hurt.

  He almost took right off after the man. Then his irrational fear receded and the moment of rage gave way. David stood slowly and calmly considered the facts. Lights shined in a few of the windows, and he doubted the sergeant would have burgled an occupied house. He waited a few minutes. A silhouette moved in the kitchen, and though it was small and shapeless behind the curtains, it comforted David with a feeling of normality.

  Then he realized that the light had been out in the utility room when the sergeant slipped out the back. Rossiter could have turned it out himself to effect a stealthy departure. What it suggested however was the same thing David had been suspecting all along, why he had been following the man in the first place. The sergeant had been meeting someone on the sly.

  David turned his watch light on and checked the time. A little after seven and Crystal had probably left for her aerobics class, leaving his mother alone in the house. But it was inconceivable that his mom would have had an illicit rendezvous with Rossiter. Perhaps Crystal was the figure he saw, still there cleaning up in the kitchen after dinner and not yet having departed—because she’d needed to talk to the sergeant first.

  David had to know. He circled back around to the front of the house and up to the door, where he hesitated a moment before unlocking. He met the housekeeper in the foyer.

  Crystal had her purse in hand and started when she saw him entering. “We didn’t expect you to be back this early, David.” She smiled. “I hope you had a good time. Your mother’s in her study, working I think, and not wanting to be disturbed.” She sidled past him on her way to the door. “I’m late for my exercise, or I’d stay and talk a while.”

  She waved at him on her way out. David smiled and nodded and waved back.
At least he had a new lead to follow.

  Chapter 8

  Conspiracy Theories

  10:40 p.m. Wednesday, December 11th

  KAT jogged down the sidewalk, Paul matching her pace in the cart as it hummed alongside on the main thoroughfare. Paul had been promoted to an officer and not before time. Hope stared across Paul at Kat, while Ben scanned the night behind them from the back bench.

  Kat hadn’t been able to find Ben’s glasses, but the sisters had went ahead and lasered his actual lenses so he no longer needed any specs.

  Apparently Ben was some kind of boy genius, the freaky kind. He’d been exempted from the work requirement Kat had believed all FedU students had to fulfill—she’d never even heard of an exemption until she’d found out about Ben. But now the boy had volunteered for Security, and Kat worried he’d imprinted on her like a baby chick. Though with or without glasses he looked more like a lost puppy.

  Hope chirped, “I can’t believe it.” She kept staring at Kat while she asked Paul, “How many miles has she run now?” She continued without waiting for an answer. “It’s so impressive. Maybe I should give it a try.”

  Kat glanced over without breaking stride. “Perhaps you’d best start with something easier. I could show you a few simple exercises to practice.”

  Hope seemed a little relieved. “That sounds like a good idea. Maybe later.”

  Kat just nodded and returned her eyes to scanning the darkness ahead. Hope’s admiration was misplaced. Kat knew she’d let herself get too far out of shape, and this was no time for her to be at less than peak performance. So she’d started using the late evening patrols to get in a little running.