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Dead Drop Series (Book 1): Dead Drop (Rise of the Elites)

Page 5

by K. S. Black


  Running his hands along the edge of the marble counter top, he found a small switch and flipped it. A panel underneath the bar slid open and revealed a shotgun made specifically for home defense along with two boxes of 12 gauge 00 shells. Why was it still in its hiding place?

  Cooper placed the ammo, the shotgun, the Chinese puzzle box, and the liquor inside a cardboard box he had found in the garage. With the Tavor slung over his shoulder, he headed out the front door.

  CHAPTER 6

  May 5 – Heading to Tucson

  Cooper drove towards Napa Valley without headlights. Hayley sat up front with him. Her breathing alternated between ragged gasps and slow breaths in and out. The only other noises from inside the Humvee came from the crate in the back. The puppy snored and let out an occasional yip.

  He placed his hand on Hayley’s shoulder and left it there. He had never been good with soft words. Sure, he could bandage and kiss a skinned knee, but this—this wasn’t something he could put a Band-Aid on or kiss away. He had always seemed to say the wrong thing to Shannon when she was upset and made things worse.

  Shannon. He couldn’t believe he’d never see her again. They had become friends again. She knew him better than anyone. While she didn’t openly encourage him to share his passion for the prepping with Hayley, she didn’t discourage it either. Sometimes she even joined in, especially when it came to self-defense or teaching Hayley about first aid.

  He had never told her that he loved her sense of independence, her quick mind and the way she cared for people. He never told her a lot of things. She was like the angel sitting on shoulder trying to make sure he did the right thing. He resented her for it when they were together. During their years apart, he began to see that she had been right about a lot of things.

  ***

  An hour passed. Hayley’s breathing took on the rhythm of sleep. He rubbed his eyes, the road a blur in front of him. Exhausted but over stimulated, he replayed the events of the past two days over and over in his mind. He pulled off the road and parked under a thick grove of trees.

  The fifty-year-old scotch rested underneath his seat. Maybe a drink would get rid of the lump in his throat that refused to go away. He picked up the bottle, removed the cork with his teeth, and inhaled the aroma of vanilla and oak. He tilted the bottle just enough so that only a small amount of the golden liquid poured into his mouth. He savored the slightly smoky taste. After he swallowed, he drew air lightly over his tongue to bring out the other tones. As the taste faded, his thoughts drifted to his last moments with Shannon.

  * * *

  The early morning sounds of birds and the puppy whining woke Cooper six and half hours after he had parked the Humvee. Sleep came fast and hard. He felt better but not refreshed. And now he needed coffee—an entire pot. Instead, he settled for one of the caffeinated energy shots he had packed.

  When he was done, he sniffed the air. He wrinkled his nose and opened all the windows before he got out and walked to the back of the Humvee. The puppy was standing in the middle of a large puddle inside the crate. After setting the crate on the ground, he unlatched the door. The pup barreled out of the enclosure and ran in frenzied circles around his feet while he filled the water and food bowls. As soon as he set them down, the pup attacked the food as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

  In the front seat, Hayley stretched out her arms and let out a loud yawn. Cooper put the pup back in the crate before he handed her a bottle of water through the open window. She took the bottle and drained the entire thing without stopping.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She took the MRE sandwich he handed her.

  He took one out for himself and leaned against the Humvee while he ate.

  “I need to use the bathroom.”

  “Give me a second.” He popped the last bit of the sandwich into his mouth and rummaged around in one of the supply bags for a roll of paper towels. Pointing to a tree, he handed her the roll.

  She cocked her head to the side.

  He shrugged his shoulders back at her.

  She huffed and stomped off behind a tree. When she was done, she went to the back of the Humvee and stuck her fingers inside the crate to scratch the puppy’s muzzle. “What’s his name?”

  “He doesn’t have a name yet. Guess we should come up with one soon. We can’t just call him dog.”

  “What kind of dog is he?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Hayley frowned. “Of course it does.”

  Cooper avoided the answer to see if she would eventually figure it out herself.

  “He kind of looks like a husky or a malamute. But I’ve never seen all black ones.”

  “You can take him out of the crate and have him sit with you. It’s time to hit the road.”

  * * *

  Cooper used the GPS to find a route around the more densely populated areas that would get them to I-5. He had only seen two other cars on the road in the past hour and a half and hadn’t heard anyone on the radios. Hayley needed to use the bathroom again, but this time, she pleaded for a real toilet.

  He saw an exit for a gas station up ahead a few miles. They would stop there, but he let her know that it might not be open, all things considered.

  He got off at the Livermore exit and drove to the first gas station he spotted. To his surprise, it was open for business. He handed Hayley the pink neoprene air filtration mask he had brought for her. “Put it on.”

  She pulled an N-95 mask from her pocket. “Mom already gave me one.” Her voice sounded flat.

  They headed towards the bathroom. “Make sure you wash your hands—use lots of soap.”

  She looked at him with a blank expression. He wished she would roll her eyes at him, her way of complaining that he was treating her like a baby.

  When she came out, he told her to find some trail-mix and energy bars. He had already grabbed a couple of bags of beef jerky and four one-gallon containers of water and was checking out the coffee station. All the carafes were empty.

  The girl at the counter stared at him.

  “Sorry about the mask.” He pulled it away from his face when he spoke but didn’t take it off. “We want to be careful, especially with everything we’ve been hearing. You should probably wear one too if you’re planning to stay here. I have a disposable one in the car I can give you.”

  “That’s ok. No one’s come through except you since last night. Hey, sorry about the coffee situation. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I’ve only been working here for a couple of days. The guy who has the morning shift didn’t show up. No one is answering their phones. I’m going to go home after you leave anyway,” she said.

  “I would if I were you.” He paid for the food and the water and followed Hayley to the Humvee. She opened the passenger door. The pup was asleep on her seat.

  They drove for two hours before she spoke again. He figured she would talk to him when she was ready. He didn’t try to engage her in any conversation even though the silence made him anxious.

  “So where did you get the military car?” she asked as the puppy dozed in her lap.

  He told her how he had found Humvee and how Jeff Stillson had customized it for him.

  “I like it. Mom would say that it’s perfect for a conspiracy nut with too much money.”

  “I can hear her saying that,” he said.

  When he turned his head to look at her, she wiped a tear from her eye and then another until they flowed one after the other. She didn’t bother to wipe the rest away.

  He took the next exit and pulled off onto a side road next to a row of towering oleanders. He got out and squeezed himself next to her on the passenger seat and held her as she cried. The puppy licked her hands. She tried to talk but could barely catch her breath between sobs. He handed her some paper towels and carried the puppy to the back of the Humvee and locked him in the crate.

  It had been over two years since her last panic attack. She had blossomed into a bright, if not precocious,
thirteen-year-old who excelled in school and sports. After witnessing her grandparents’ deaths when she was eight, she had been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and depression and suffered from frequent panic attacks and nightmares. He and Shannon had worried about the lasting effects of the trauma. But Hayley had worked through it. Proud was an understatement of how he felt about everything she had accomplished, but he was scared she might relapse given everything that had happened and what might happen in the near future.

  After a couple of minutes, he sat down next to her again and wiped her eyes. He handed her a water bottle.

  She took a sip of water before she spoke. “We couldn’t reach you on the phone so I helped Mom get the antenna up for that ham radio you got us. She said it was going to take some time to get the radio working. The TV had static on every channel. I tried the radio in my room. I got a whole lot of nothing except this guy talking about the government might be shutting down all the TV and radio stations. He said he would stay on as long as he could to pass on the truth about everything they didn’t want us to know. I think he said it was WCPR Pirate Radio. I told Mom, and she came in to listen.”

  "I know that station. What did he say?"

  “He made it sound really scary—riots in downtown Oakland, the military all over San Francisco taking people, grocery stores getting emptied out, and lots of looting. Then he talked about a virus called Rapture. He said there was a shooting at the hospital where mom works and that gangs were breaking into houses and taking food and stuff so everyone should make sure they locked their doors. He said most of the police weren’t responding to emergency calls. Basically, we were on our own.”

  "He was right. What did you guys do?" He smoothed the hair away from her face.

  “Mom went around the house closing the curtains and making sure the windows were locked. She said we’d be okay. She tried the ham radio every half hour until she finally heard you talking. It was so hard to figure out what you were saying, and then we couldn’t hear you anymore.”

  He squeezed her hand, and she continued, “She made me something to eat for dinner and tried to get you on the radio again. I was almost done eating when those men broke the front door open. I recognized one of them for sure. He works on our yard every week.”

  Cooper closed his eyes and exhaled through his mouth. He had hired the lawn care service so Shannon wouldn’t have to worry about yard work. The neighbors had recommended them. He didn’t do a background check, not that it would have done any good.

  “Mom ran into the kitchen with her gun and yelled for me to run for the pod. When I got to the utility room, three men came into the kitchen behind her.” Hayley wrung her hands together.

  He took both her hands in his.

  “Mom fired the gun and screamed at me to move faster. I think she shot one of them because I heard moaning. Someone said hospital a couple of times before I got into the pod and closed the door. I heard more shots. They were trying to find me. That’s when I locked the pod door. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to lock Mom out, but I didn’t want them to get me. It got really quiet. I wanted to come out and find her, but I was so scared. I knew something was wrong because she never came to the pod. It’s my fault. I should have done something.” She pulled her hands from his and wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands.

  “Listen to me. None of this was your fault. They might have killed you if you didn’t do what she told you to do. She would have done anything to keep you safe.”

  He didn’t want Hayley to see him break down, but he couldn’t contain his emotions. He held her until they both had no more tears.

  * * *

  Hayley asked if she could get cleaned up and change her shirt. Cooper handed her some wipes and her duffle bag and stepped out of the vehicle to give her privacy. When she was finished, she jumped down from the Humvee and extended her arms towards him. He pulled her to him, and she rested her head against him.

  “Are you doing okay?” he asked.

  “No, but I think I’ll feel better when we get home.”

  Home . . . He was relieved that she felt that going to Tucson with him was going home. But what were they going to find? Before he could dwell on that worry any longer, the military scanner came to life.

  Zzz . . . click . . . ooover . . . grrr . . . zzzzzzz . . . click . . . click.

  Half a minute later they heard voices. “Bravo one-four. Stop and detain.”

  “One-four.” Click. Click.

  “Bravo one-two and Bravo one-six…secure.”

  “One-six.” Click. Click.

  “One-two.” Click. Click.

  Cooper surveyed the main road from outside the Humvee. From his position, he saw a school bus, two semis, and an RV traveling together. They were heading south on I-5. A convoy of three Strykers, equipped with .50 caliber machine guns, and a black military Humvee with Homeland Security painted in white on the front doors quickly closed in on them.

  The last Stryker stopped and blocked the road at the exit to prevent the civilian vehicles from turning around and escaping. The second Stryker slowed allowing all the vehicles to pass. The first Stryker and the black Humvee sped past the civilian vehicles and signaled for the drivers to pull over.

  One behind the other, the two semis, the RV and the school bus came to a stop on the side of the road.

  Cooper opened the passenger door on the driver’s side, reached into the pocket on the back of his seat and pulled out a pair of binoculars.

  Two, six-man, rapid deployment teams spilled out of the back of the Strykers. The soldiers, dressed in unfamiliar black uniforms and helmets, surrounded the vehicles and pointed what Cooper thought were M-4 carbines at the people inside.

  He told Hayley to buckle up. Through the binoculars, he counted seventeen civilians: six men, four women, and seven children. They were being lined up.

  One of the civilians, who acted like the leader, started arguing with a soldier. The soldier began to walk away, but the man grabbed him by the arm. An instant later, the soldier fell backwards.

  “Who’s shooting?” Hayley asked.

  “Hang on.” He held his hand up for her to stop talking.

  The group tried to scatter, but all twelve soldiers pointed their weapons at them, and they froze. The adults pushed the children behind them. A tall man wearing a black uniform stepped out of the Homeland Security Humvee. Cooper assumed this was the officer in charge. He said something to the soldiers and six of them slung their rifles over their shoulders and started searching the civilian vehicles. They collected guns and other supplies and loaded them into the back of the Humvee.

  The other soldiers kept their weapons aimed on the civilians. When the officer pointed his finger at the group, every man, woman, and child fell to the ground bathed in the sound of the semi-automatic rifle bursts.

  “I hear shooting again. What’s happening? Your face—it’s all pale.”

  A voice over the radio made them both jump. Cooper put his finger to his lips. They listened. He continued to watch through the binoculars.

  “Bravo Command. Bravo one-six. Over.”

  “Command.” Click. Click.

  “Command, we have an unknown vehicle due east.” The officer grabbed an M-4 outfitted with a scope from his vehicle and looked towards Cooper and Hayley.

  “Bravo one-six, identify unit. Over.”

  “Oh shit!” Cooper scrambled back into the Humvee. “Are you buckled in? Put on the helmet hanging off your headrest.”

  When she reached for her helmet, she also looked for his. It had fallen on the floor behind his seat. While he secured his harness, she climbed over the hump between the seats. “Hayley! Forget about my helmet. Hurry up and put on the harness!”

  “Here!” she said and thrust the helmet at him. She picked up the puppy and secured the harness over both of them before putting on her helmet. “You need yours just as much as I do. If something happens to you, what’s going to happen to me?”


  A few seconds later, they heard the soldiers talking about them. “Zombie Response Team. Over.”

  “Roger that, Bravo one-six. Stop and detain.”

  “One-six.” Click. Click.

  A billow of black exhaust trailed the Stryker as it launched off the road and through a dirt field, taking the shortest route to get to him and Hayley.

  He maneuvered the Humvee back onto the road and opened the compartment on the dashboard on the right side of the steering wheel labeled shields. He pulled a red lever upwards. Dark gray panels rose up and covered the four side windows, as well as the rear ones. The effect was claustrophobic.

  Red lights illuminated the interior and the compartment containing the lever lit up. The joystick below it was labeled cameras with three buttons indicating right, rearview, and all views. Cooper pushed the camera button marked rearview. The view from behind the Humvee appeared on the built-in monitor on the dashboard.

  He moved the joystick in different positions to pan the camera left, right, up, and down and twisted it to zoom in and out until the Stryker came into view.

  Digital numbers on the bottom right of the screen showed the number of feet away: 2645. Cooper estimated the distance as just over a half mile and closing in. “Hang on!”

  “Bravo Command. Bravo one-six. Over.”

  “Command.” Click. Click.

  “Contact leaving the area. Over.”

  "Bravo one-six, terminate. Out."

  “One-six.” Click. Click.

  The Stryker couldn’t keep up with the souped-up Humvee. Someone in the Stryker shot at them, and the dirt on the shoulder exploded next to them. WAP! WAP! WAP! Three .50 caliber rounds hit the Humvee making it lurch to the right. Hayley screamed and braced for another impact. The pup whimpered in her arms.

  After opening the small compartment next to his right leg, Cooper pulled up the nitrous oxide valve and locked it in place. The Humvee was launched forward from the extra boost in power. He grabbed the steering wheel with a white-knuckled, grip to keep the vehicle from swerving onto the shoulder. The speedometer indicated one hundred and twenty mph and climbing.

 

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