He jumped out of the cart and headed down a road, scanning to the front with his rifle. I liked his no-nonsense style, and as I followed, glancing from side to side, rifle shouldered, I felt part of a small but slick formation.
“Are you going to stay after we take them out?” Harris asked from behind.
“Are you?” I said.
“I like it. Once you meet more of the people, I think you will too. Where else is there to go?”
I thought for a moment and decided he might be right. Morgan seemed the only blocker. But what community didn’t have at least one difficult person?
“Don’t you get pissed off with Morgan?” I asked.
“Nah, he’s all right once you get to know him. Behind that silly exterior, he means well. He listens and generally goes along with our advice. You just need to make him think he’s making the decisions.”
Chip turned back. “Quit yammering. You’ll have plenty of time to talk once we’re back.”
I guessed he meant talking and understood his point, although it felt like I’d just been dressed down by a schoolteacher.
Chip continued down a moonlit tree-lined street, through a small wooded area to an old stone fortification. He knelt next to a black cannon, the type used a couple of centuries ago, ripped open a kidney pouch on his webbing, and pulled out a pair of binoculars.
I stooped on the other side of the cannon and trained my rifle behind Harris. He crept alongside me.
“You take the left arc, I’ll cover the right,” Harris said.
In my peripheral vision, Chip shuffled to a gap in the rampart and planted the binoculars against his eyes. He scanned across the bay, stopped, and adjusted the lenses.
“Harry, come here.” I edged backward. He passed me the binoculars. “Look straight ahead. You’ll see a faint light in the distance. That’s Hart Island. That’s our confirmation.”
It didn’t seem obvious at first as I searched the darkness. Eventually I picked up a dark landmass with a small yellow glow at the left edge.
“I take it you don’t believe in coincidences, Chip?”
He shook his head. “No. I’ll brief Morgan when we return and we’ll attack this time tomorrow. We’ve got a busy day of preparation ahead. Better get back and grab a couple of hours sleep.”
He stuffed the binoculars back in his webbing and headed off. People like Chip were perfect for taking down Genesis Alliance.
After returning to the stadium, just before five, I tried to sleep but found it impossible while thoughts of our upcoming fight raced through my mind. I decided to grab a cup of coffee and brief the other two when they woke.
The hissing camping stove, heating a pot of bubbling water, must have woken Jack. He threw his duvet to one side. “I’ll have one too. Time is it?”
“Just past six.”
Rick groaned and rubbed his face. “I’ll have one if you’re making.”
“Where did you go?” Jack asked.
“Had a little trip out with Chip. We’ve confirmed GA’s location. How’d it go last night?”
“A few tears, but I think they’ve been dealt with. Lisa says there’s a big meeting planned today. Morgan sent out a note last night saying he needs to address the company.”
“We’re attacking tonight,” I said. “He probably wants to brief everyone.”
Jack’s eyes lit up. “I knew they had to go for it. Are we leading the assault?”
I guessed he wanted to reach Jerry first, if he wasn’t still stalking us in another part of the country. Treating the kids last night would have stiffened his resolve too. If Jack thinks there’s something worth fighting for, there’s no turning him back.
“I’m meeting Chip again in a couple of hours. I’ll let him know we want to be in the vanguard.”
After sipping his coffee, Rick hopped into jeans and made us porridge and hotdogs. Not an ideal breakfast, but we were still assimilating into stadium life.
We sat on the balcony in the murky dawn light. Soft light glowed from a few of the luxury suites opposite. Somebody slid open a door and lit a cigarette. We discussed potential ways of raiding Hart Island. Rick likened it to the D-Day landings. I liked the idea of attacking from two different angles, with a cutoff group at the opposite end to mow down any fleeing goons. Jack favored a simple right flanking maneuver.
The late spring sun quickly rose above the stadium, bathing our side in glorious warmth and light. At seven o clock, Chip entered the room without knocking. He’d scrubbed himself clean and dressed in combats. I wouldn’t fancy facing such a mean-looking bugger.
“Harry, twenty minutes in my office, if you don’t mind?”
“No worries.” I turned to Rick and Jack. “I’ll brief you when I get back.”
I followed him a short distance to a large room, more like a lounge than an office, with modern art on the walls and red leather bucket chairs spread around small white tables. We sat opposite each other. Chip tossed me a bottle of water.
“I need as much information about Genesis Alliance as possible,” he said. “Take it from the top.”
“You’ve seen the report,” I said. “What else do you need to know?”
Chip shifted forward in his seat. “I want more details, potential weak spots, types of weapons. We can’t afford too many casualties, especially with more enemy coming our way.”
I told the story again, from landing in New York to arriving at Flushing Meadows, concentrating on the parts with the goons around Monroe and Ohio. Chip didn’t interrupt and scribbled notes.
“Sounds like we’re matched in terms of weapons,” Chip said. “Tell me again about the device you found.”
“No markings, about six feet, very heavy. The convoy had a couple.”
“Alien?”
The thought seemed ridiculous. If aliens had planned this attack, I doubted that they would have employed the fools from Monroe to act as an operational arm. I pushed the thoughts to one side. Second-guessing imaginary aliens wouldn’t help any of us.
“No, I’m sure of that. Brett told me he was recruited to work on the system.”
“What did he say about neutralizing?”
“It can be done with an EMP device—”
“Nanobots?”
“Pardon?” I said, not recognizing the word.
“Are they using nanobots? Do you know?”
“No idea. The cattle prod is a rough workaround solution. You have to do it several times, but the guy in Ohio—”
“Forget about him, what else did Brett say? Specifically.”
“The activations make us act in a certain way. The one that has already occurred was the first ‘event,’ as you call it. He said another’s coming. The notebook confirmed the date as Tuesday. He estimated the main force might be here tomorrow. Everything seems to line up.”
“Not everyone acts the same way. You’ve seen it yourself. Did Brett expand on that?”
“We didn’t get into technical detail. That’s not really Jack’s or my area of expertise.”
Chip nodded. “Do you know their reasons? Ultimate aim?”
“We won’t know the full story unless someone at the top of Genesis Alliance tells us. That isn’t likely. I don’t even think Monroe GA knows the full story. There’s a guy who runs the thing called Henry Fairfax. Ever heard of him?”
“Nope. The GA big dogs are based in the UK?”
“That’s the way it looks. They’ve somehow invented or acquired the technology to create the event. According to one of their local leaders in Monroe, the next stage is a cleanup operation. I didn’t trust him an inch.”
“We need to know more, the full extent of what we’re facing. I’ll make taking a hostage one of our priorities tonight.”
“Have you thought about a plan yet? We want to lead the assault. There are some scores that
need settling.”
Chip stopped scribbling and looked up. “We’ve all got scores to settle, Harry, but I’ll think about your request.”
“We’ve just been discussing options for the attack—”
He held up his hand, stopping me in mid-flow. “Bring Jack along to our planning meeting. After Morgan’s made his speech, we’re going to prepare a few boats and go over our options.”
“Are we taking your full team?” I asked.
“We don’t want to compromise stadium security, but this is our main priority. Forty will have to do.” He snapped his notebook shut and stuffed it in his breast pocket. “See you in a couple of hours at Morgan’s meeting.”
“I’ll sit this one out.”
“Show your face. Don’t antagonize him.”
I left Chip’s office without answering.
Just before eleven, after managing to snooze for two hours, I sat with Jack and Rick, watching the empty court while taking them through my mission and conversation with Chip. People filed into the lower part of the stadium, taking up seats close to the umpire’s chair.
Rick waved us over to an opposite suite. A man in a green T-shirt replied in kind. “I spoke to the guys in the kitchen this morning. There are a lot of happy people here.”
“What do you mean, ‘happy’?” I asked, thinking it was an odd choice for a word to describe our current situation.
“Imagine your problems disappearing overnight: debt, boring job, no sense of purpose or importance. There’re a lot of reasons why some are feeling they’ve gotten a new start in life.”
Jack grunted. “A new start in life for the cost of billions of others. I don’t get it.”
“You know what I’m talking about,” Rick said. “They can’t change the past, but they can make their own future.”
I considered Rick’s comments and could see his reasoning. An electrician would be like a movie star, the new celebrity in our sparse world. All our histories had been wiped, records expunged; the only currency now would be transferable skills and the ability to work with others. Ultimately, though, without an army or law enforcement, strength would take control of any new organization, weapons, and numbers.
A small ripple of applause grabbed my attention. Morgan strolled onto the court, flanked by Chip and another man dressed in full combats, perhaps one of his team leaders.
Morgan climbed the umpire’s chair and raised a megaphone to his mouth. “Welcome, fellow company members. I’m sure, like me, you were looking forward to the wine tasting tonight. I’m afraid it’s been cancelled.”
A quiet murmur echoed around the stadium. He continued, “I will try to be brief, as we have a lot of work to do. You have worked tremendously hard since we came together. Some of you I have grown to know well. Others have recently joined us, but only by integrating and working together can we be strong.”
“Do you think he’ll mention GA?” Jack asked.
I shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“Everybody here is integral to our survival,” Morgan said, sweeping his hand around the stadium. “Your past does not matter. What’s important is the part of our jigsaw puzzle you can fill. Our fledgling community can keep you all safe; work with us, share with us, and grow with us. I can’t promise that things will return to the way they were. All of that is gone. However, with hard work and organization we can ensure that no one is hungry, cold, or living in fear.”
Rick rolled his eyes. “This guy loves himself.”
“I’ve started a research and development team. They’re looking at other sites outside the city. We’ll evaluate farming and producing our own food sources, and build long-term sustainability for future generations. In short, we’ve all achieved incredible progress in a short space of time. There is still an amazing amount of work to do.”
He paused, raised his chin, and looked around the stadium. “This brings me to our most important item. We are facing a threat to our very existence. Currently, on Hart Island a force is planning another event, and our capture or destruction. Chip is building a team for an assault tonight. We will defeat them and stop them in their tracks. I’m sure you have questions, so please consult your team leaders. But let me say this.” He raised a clenched fist. “Together and only together, we will survive. Thank you.”
A quiet ripple of applause followed. Two people raised their hands. Morgan climbed down the steps of the umpire’s chair and tossed the megaphone to Chip. He mingled with a group sitting in the front row. Chip and the suit stood behind him. Members of Chip’s team approached him, no doubt full of questions about tonight’s activities.
The atmosphere around the court seemed purposeful. People busily chatted in the glorious sunshine. Chip shot a glance to me and gestured to a side entrance. He probably wanted to start planning and organizing our supplies immediately. I certainly did.
“You know, this isn’t—” Jack said.
He gaped at me.
The stadium jolted, like a mini-earthquake had hit. A shock wave ran through my body.
8
I unslung my rifle. “Jesus Christ, no. It can’t be.”
“Is this it?” Jack asked.
Rick didn’t appear to understand our sudden fright. I looked at the group below. Some ducked behind their chairs; others stood in a huddle in frantic conversation. I noticed Chip standing on baseline, hands on hips, gazing skyward.
I held my breath.
Like an alarm clock breaking sleep, four more jolts pulsed through the stadium in rhythmic succession.
“Get down!” I shouted.
I scrambled behind my seat and aimed toward the court.
Roars, screams, and cries echoed around the stadium, followed by multiple gunshots. An “every man for himself” fight broke out by the net. People fired at each other from close range.
A man pinned a woman to the ground, gritted his teeth and clamped his hands around her neck. Another stamped on a smaller man’s head, jumping in the air to provide extra force. A woman fired a pistol at the back of his head. He collapsed lifelessly to the ground. She pressed the weapon against her temple, pulled the trigger, and fell on top of him.
A man with a blood-soaked knife picked up the woman’s pistol and fired into his own mouth.
I looked across the stadium at a previously populated balcony. Two people struggled with each other among the seats.
Others backed away, through the entrances to the court. A woman leaned over her balcony and sprayed the court with automatic fire.
A window shattered to our right, possibly three suites along. The stadium crackled with gunfire and echoed with screams.
A round ricocheted off the metal rail in front of our balcony.
“Inside!” I shouted.
I followed Jack and Rick, slammed the door, locked it, and closed the curtains. Rick sprinted to the suite entrance and secured the latch. Thankfully, our procedure on him had worked. The activation was supposed to have occurred on Tuesday, and we had believed it was to process survivors. This looked like a repeat of the first, and we were right in the midst of it.
“This is fucked,” Rick said. “Exactly like what happened last Friday.”
Jack knelt and peered around a curtain. “That’s our bloody plan up in smoke.”
“We need to get the hell out of here,” I said. “Too many hiding places for killers.”
I’d only had a tiny glimpse of what had happened en masse last Friday, but it had been chilling enough. I guessed that with HQ breathing down the neck of the local goons, they’d sent out the second activation as soon as they could, although this appeared to be against their plan. It smelled of Anthony and Jerry.
“Lisa and the kids,” Jack said. “I’m going to their suite. They need our help.”
Rick tried to grab him as he ran for the door. “You’re mad. We can’t go charging around.�
��
Jack wriggled free of his grasp and unlocked our door. “It’s nine doors down. I’m not leaving them.”
I could see Rick’s point, but we had to take some responsibility. Jack had neutralized Lisa’s group, and I could tell he’d quickly built a rapport with her. I hadn’t seen them at the parade, so they might be in their suite.
On current evidence, it seemed unlikely that any others had carried out our procedure. If we wanted to rescue them, we had to move.
“Let’s do it,” I said. “We go in all-round defensive formation. Any sign of trouble, shoot.”
“I’ll take us straight there,” Jack said. “Don’t worry about that.”
Rick took a deep breath and moved to the door. “Okay, guys, I’m in.”
I opened it slightly and listened. Hearing no footsteps, I peeped out in both directions. “Clear.”
Jack edged past me, crouching, and aimed along the curving corridor. I dodged to the left, covering the opposite direction. Rick stepped between us.
Because of the circular nature of the structure, we could see no more than thirty yards in either direction.
I waved Jack and Rick away. “I’ll cover the rear—go.”
Shuffling backward, I tried to keep pace with Jack and Rick.
Behind me, I heard faint knocking, not like the distant gunfire, but more like knuckles on wood. A hand pressed against my back.
“Wait,” Rick said.
“Someone there?” I asked.
“Knocking on Lisa’s door,” Jack said.
“Come out, Lisa. Everything’s fine,” a male voice shouted.
“Fuck this,” Jack said.
He ran forward. Two shots split the air, and a scream blasted along the corridor.
“Clear,” Jack said. He ran to Lisa’s door and knocked three times. “It’s me, Jack.”
Rick and I crouched on either side of him, protecting the flanks. The man’s legs twitched. One shot had entered just above his left eye.
“Are you sure?” she cried from behind the door.
Jack leaned against it. “Open up. We know what’s going on.”
Second Activation (The Activation Series Book 2) Page 19