by Riley Flynn
“Is it possible we actually did some good here today?” Carly asked.
“I’d like to think so,” said Jax. “And who knows? Maybe we can do some more for people like Anna in there. At least we’re trying.”
As they started taking down the tent, Jax tried hard not to listen to the voice deep down in his mind that kept telling him the road to hell was paved with good intentions.
Chapter 22
Fujita’s hot dog stand was packed, thanks to word getting around about the daily lunch sign-ups. Jax had even seen a few of the schedules they’d handed out over the past three days taped to light standards and stapled to public message boards (one of the boards had been covered with the words IT’S COMING in red spray paint, which sent a chill through Jax’s guts) and they seemed to be working. This afternoon had seen almost seventy civilians so far. They might have had even more if the overcast sky hadn’t been threatening rain.
Ruben was chatting with a handful of people as they ate. Jax envied his friend—He’d always had the gift of the gab and was able to talk in just about any situation. Jax joined the group just as a twenty-something man with a thick beard and cracked eyeglasses was speaking.
“Where did the virus come from, anyway?” the man asked Ruben. “I heard the Chinese.”
“Actually, I think Capt. Booth here is better able to field that question,” Ruben grinned, prompting an insincere smile from Jax in return.
“That’s an excellent question,” he said. “In fact, our intelligence indicates that Eko was actually developed as a bioweapon by the North Korean regime. For whatever reason, the developers apparently thought they could somehow keep it contained to a small area, but of course, we saw what happened.”
A few people nodded knowingly, others shook their heads. A couple of people said “I knew it” at almost exactly the same time.
“So this isn’t just here in Colorado?” asked a black woman in a pink sweatsuit and running shoes. Jax had noticed that comfort seemed to be the new fashion among the civilian survivors. He couldn’t blame them—he wouldn’t have been wearing fatigues himself if it wasn’t expected of him.
“No, ma’am. Our intel indicates this is a worldwide phenomenon. We saw the beginnings of it in Germany ourselves before we returned to the States.”
The woman looked crestfallen. “I kept hoping that we could just go someplace else. Someplace where this didn’t happen.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” said Carly, joining them. “We know it’s been hard on everyone. That’s why we’re offering counselling to anyone who asks for it. We want everyone here in Colorado Springs to weather the storm and come out the other side. So let us know if you need anything, or even if you just want to talk.”
There were murmurs in the group before a bald man with an oddly babyish face spoke up: “I heard the president is here in the city. Is that true?”
Jax was prepared for the question. Raines had told him not to lie to the public about what was happening, unless he had no other choice.
“President Raines is here, yes,” he said. “In fact, Colorado Springs is the current seat of government for the United States.”
Baby Face let out a low whistle. “So it’s true—Fletcher is dead?”
Jax nodded. “Air Force One was shot down over Nevada by someone working on behalf of the Chinese government. That person also assassinated Gen. Marcus Chase, the Secretary of Defense, before being killed himself.”
He felt Ruben’s hand on his shoulder. “It was Captain Booth here who took him out,” his friend said proudly.
Eyes widened among the crowd while Jax tried his damndest to not look as uncomfortable as he felt.
“Seriously?” Baby Face asked. “That’s crazy! Like a movie or something. And you killed the guy? Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Jax said.
“Marcus Chase was a goddamn hero to this country,” said a middle-aged man who looked like he’d been wearing the same clothes for several days. “Fucking Chinese. First they steal all our jobs, then they do this. It’s crazy.”
The woman in the sweatsuit moved closer to Jax. “Well, I for one am glad we have people like you here to look out for us,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. It made him supremely uncomfortable. “You people are the real heroes.”
There was a murmur of general agreement in the crowd. Each time he heard that sound over the last few days, Jax felt a little bit more like they were accomplishing something. That there was some hope for this fragile new republic they were tasked with building.
Hell, the fact that there’d been no more reports of armed civilians stalking the streets was enough of a step in the right direction just on its own.
“Careful, folks,” Maggie said with a sardonic grin. “Let’s not give these fellas swelled heads or they won’t be able to fit into their helmets.”
“The real heroes have been this city’s own first responders,” said Jax. “People like Sheriff Stubbs here, every other first responder who did everything they could to keep order during chaos. We owe each and every one of them who didn’t make it a debt we can never repay.”
A smattering of applause from the crowd seemed to take Maggie off guard, which gave Jax some degree of satisfaction. Jesus, I really am turning into a politician.
When she glanced over at him, there was a look in her eyes he’d never seen there before. Gratitude, maybe? Or was it something else?
“Hey, Captain,” Ruben called from one of the tents. “I need your help here. Lt. Grant, you too, please.”
Jax saw him standing next to a man in his twenties with a mop of brown hair and a faraway stare. He thought the guy looked familiar, but couldn’t quite place him. He excused himself and made his way to Ruben and Carly at the tent.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Our man here tells me he’s having some troubles,” said Ruben. “Wondered if we could maybe help him out.”
“I’m sure we can,” Carly chirped. “That’s what we’re here for.”
“That’s good,” said Ruben, grinning wide. “Because this gentleman is worried that the Chinese government is beaming signals into his brain.”
The guy continued to stare into the distance, barely acknowledging his two new companions. Jax and Carly exchanged glances without altering their expressions, which Jax considered a minor miracle. Inside his mind, he sighed deeply.
“All right, sir,” he said. “How about we go inside this tent here and talk about things?”
The guy nodded. Jax turned to Carly and whispered, “We’re going to be late with this. Better tell Fujita to radio in to the mountain and find someone to pick up Hayley from school. Then get back here double-time; I’m not ready to tackle something like this on my own, and we both know Lambert isn’t going to be any help.”
She clamped down on a smile and headed toward Fujita’s table as Jax put a hand on their new patient’s shoulder and led him inside the tent.
“By the way, sir,” he asked, “what should we call you?”
“My name’s Joe,” the guy mumbled.
That was a lie. His real name was Rob Taylor, and he was on a secret mission.
***
Sure glad I spent those four years at the Citadel before I signed up, Carey Fujita moped as he collected stray paper plates left behind by the throng of people who’d finally dispersed. Like the old recruitment commercials used to say: Be All That You Can Be. For him, that now meant serve all the hot dogs you can serve. Order all the after-school rides for your commander’s kid that you can order.
“Need a hand, sir?”
Fujita looked up from his crouch to see a kid in airman’s fatigues standing over him with an easy smile.
“Can always use an extra hand if you’re okay with clean-up duty,” Fujita said. “Though I can’t say I know why we bother.”
The kid grabbed a black garbage bag from the table and followed Fujita around, picking up whatever he didn’t. Fujita figured he must be almost a raw recrui
t—couldn’t have been older than nineteen.
“Begging your pardon, sir,” the kid said, scratching his scalp. Fujita noted it had the red bumps of a fresh shave. “But I figure we might as well start over with a cleaner slate than we got left to us, you know?”
Fujita straightened up and yanked the ties on the bag tight. “I have to admit I hadn’t thought of it that way. I like your attitude. What’s your name, Airman?”
“Payne, sir,” the kid lied with a grin.
“Who do you report to?”
“Lt. Grant, sir.”
“Huh,” said Fujita. “She actually just left. Asked me to radio the mountain to send someone over to the resort to pick up our company commander’s kid from the school at 1500 hours. Take her back to the mountain.” He tilted his head. “You wouldn’t be…?"
The kid, whose real name was Malcolm Austin, shrugged.
“I’d be happy to do it, sir,” he said. “Just let the school know I’m coming and I’ll go grab her.”
***
By the end of the school day, Hayley was almost completely sure that she had made a new friend.
Becca Holt was a couple of years older than her, and she acted kind of weird sometimes, but they had bonded over magnetic clay sculptures that they had spent the last couple of hours building. It started out as boring—they weren’t allowed to play with anything that used electricity because they were supposed to save energy—but by the time the school was over, Hayley found herself actually wanting to take hers back to her bunk to finish it.
She and Becca had discovered they had a lot in common, thanks to their teacher, Ms. Sidley. She had sat down with the two of them and talked for a while, then asked them some questions. Becca told them her mom was a nurse, just like Hayley’s mom. She was working at a hospital in Colorado Springs. Her dad was a soldier, like Jax, except he worked at Fort Carson. Becca’s mom had died, too, but not from the virus. She had died cleaning her dad’s gun. Now she and her dad lived at the hotel where the school was. Becca said her dad didn’t talk a lot any more.
Then there was Brady Puckett. His parents had died from the virus, and he had gotten sick, too. Then he got better, but now his eyes were two different colors, which was weird—Hayley never knew which one to look at when she was talking to him. Ms. Sidley was his guardian now, just like Jax was hers. Ms. Sidley said there would be a lot more kids coming to the school in the next few days from the city.
“Hayley!” Ms. Sidley called from the door of the big room they used for the school.
“I have to go now,” Hayley said, looking wistfully at the Tyrannosaurus she was building with the clay. She couldn’t put it into words, but for some reason creating things made her feel better these days.
Becca stood and hugged her fiercely. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yup. I hope your dad is doing okay today.”
“Me, too,” she sighed. “He never is, but I always hope he will be.”
Hayley waved to a few other kids before she got to the door and Ms. Sidley. She liked her teacher a lot, probably more than anyone else besides Jax, Ruben and Val. When she got to the door, though, Jax was nowhere to be seen. Instead there was a teenager in fatigues who looked like he’d just shaved his head.
“Jax can’t pick you up today, Hayley,” Ms. Sidley said with a smile. “This is Airman Payne. He’ll take you back to the mountain and Jax will meet you when he’s off duty. Okay?”
Hayley nodded. The airman smiled at her and reached out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Moore.”
She took his hand and gave it a brisk shake. Aside from mild disappointment at not seeing Jax, she didn’t give the situation a second thought. She’d been surrounded by soldiers for over two weeks now; what was one more?
Airman Payne led her out of the hotel to a white car that didn’t look like any of the vehicles she had seen military people drive. It was low to the ground and wide, and there were only two seats in it.
“Have you ever seen a car like this, Hayley?” he asked. He pressed a button on the fob and the doors opened upward, like wings.
She shook her head, wide-eyed. “What is it?”
“It’s called a Chrysler Nighthawk. It can go up to 300 miles per hour.”
“Is it a gas car?” she asked. “I’ve heard of them. They’re supposed to be faster than regular cars.”
He grinned. “You’re pretty smart. Only rich people can afford them because gas is so expensive. But now it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? I just took this one. No one’s using it.”
Hayley wondered about that. Her mom had always taught her that stealing was wrong. But things were different now, weren’t they? And it wasn’t her place to question grown-ups, even if they were practically kids themselves, like Airman Payne.
She sank into the passenger seat, feeling the special foam mold itself around her. The door dropped down automatically as the seatbelt crawled over her shoulder and clicked into place on its own.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Airman Payne asked as he took his seat.
“Yeah.” She was starting to like this car now that she was inside. She imagined herself inside the cockpit of a star fighter of some sort.
Airman Payne hit the ignition and a low rumble escaped the engine. Hayley was used to the whine and hum of electric or hybrid vehicles. This was a new experience for her, to actually hear and feel the engine.
“Cool,” she breathed.
Airman Payne looked over at her and grinned.
“Wait till we get moving,” he said. “You’re in for a real adventure this afternoon, Hayley.”
Chapter 23
“It’s, like, what if everyone here is a Chinese agent except for me?”
Jax pinched the bridge of his nose. He could tell Ruben was doing his best not to punch the guy, while Carly simply looked baffled. They’d been going through this for more than an hour now.
“That’s a pretty big stretch, Joe,” he sighed. “Wouldn’t you say? I mean, if everyone else was the enemy, what would be the point of trying to make you believe that they weren’t? Why wouldn’t they just kill you?”
Joe nodded knowingly and jabbed an index finger at them. “Exactly.”
Jax shook his head and glanced at his watch: it was after 1630 hours already. Long past when they had planned to be out of here. And they still had to meet up with Fujita back at the resort to go over any registrations from the afternoon.
Carly leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Look, Joe, are you staying somewhere nearby? Maybe we can check in on you once in a while, make sure everything is okay.”
“I’m staying at a mo—uh, I mean, no, I don’t have any one place. I, uh, move around a lot.”
Ruben tried his hand. “How about tomorrow? We’re going to be at the Chapel Hills Mall. Can you meet us there?”
“Maybe,” Joe muttered. “I don’t know. What time is it?”
“Four-forty,” said Jax. “Why? Got an appointment?”
He cursed himself for being snide as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but Jesus, come on. This was getting ridiculous.
Joe stood up and glanced out the door of the tent. Jax followed his gaze and saw the sun starting to make its way to a lower angle on the western horizon.
“I don’t,” Joe said. “But you do.”
Ruben rose from his seat and headed warily for the door. Jax’s instincts were a few seconds behind his friend’s, but he was starting to feel it too.
“What are you talking about?” Ruben asked.
“Guys, now!”
Jax leapt from his own seat and spun to face the door. As he did, he saw Ruben throw Carly behind him and follow suit.
A moment later, their instincts were borne out as a dozen men wearing fatigues and carrying automatic rifles stormed into the tent. Jax’s pulse quickened as he recognized HK416s, a couple of Smith & Wesson Creedmors, and others that shared space on the upper shelves of the gun shops. All of them were pointed at him and his companions. All of the
m carried the potential for a massacre.
None were pointed at Joe.
Jax took a breath, steeling himself as he raised his hands. The others followed suit. A quick scan of the group showed all of them were wearing the blue star and double chevron rank insignia of airmen second class.
“What the fuck is going on here?!” he barked. “Stand down now or I’ll have you court-martialed!”
The men didn’t move or speak, simply stood their ground in formation, weapons trained on the trio.
“I don’t recognize any of these men,” said Carly. “I could see not recognizing all of them, but it’s impossible that I don’t know any of them.”
“I think you’ll know one, Lieutenant,” said a voice from a silhouette in the doorway. The sun was behind him, obscuring his features from Jax.
“Wait a minute,” Ruben said as the newcomer walked in and away from the bright light. “This isn’t right…”
Now that he was in the tent, Jax could make out the muscular frame, the salt-and-pepper hair. He’d never met the Air Force colonel whose place Carly Grant had taken on his team, but he knew who he was looking at.
“Jesus Christ,” Carly breathed. Her glowing cheeks stood out in stark contrast with her normally pale skin. “Colonel Roth?”
The man smiled sheepishly. “Might as well dispense with the formalities now, Carly. We all know I’m not a colonel anymore. I’m just Nick Roth, private citizen.” He turned to Jax. “Captain Booth. I’ve heard good things about you. Sorry I stood you up. Hank Archer must have been pissed about that one.”
“Not as pissed as I am right now,” Jax growled. “I’ll have your ass for this, whatever the hell this is. If these men don’t want a repeat of Palmer High, I suggest they drop their weapons right now.”
He was still trying to take it all in: No one had reported seeing Roth since the meeting where Archer had put Jax in charge over a week ago. In fact, no one had seemed overly concerned that they couldn’t find him, at least as far as Jax knew.
Roth chuckled. “We both know there aren’t members of Echo Company lying in wait for us here. This was a perfect ambush.” He put an arm around Joe’s shoulder. “Thanks to our man Rob here.”