She chewed her lip as she worked through it all. Garth thought she looked cute in the pose.
“So you protected me?” She gasped.
“Of course. That’s what guys do. We protect.”
His dad taught him to look out for the weak and stand up to the bullies. Lydia wasn’t exactly weak, but she had the street smarts of a newborn infant in 2020. It fell to him to watch over her.
She reached over and gently touched his wrist while he held the wheel. “Then I should say thanks. I did not see the threat, and I was more enchanted than I can say about the products you have in this world. Next time, I’ll listen to you.”
He leaned back in his seat, proud to have won her over by doing what came naturally, but all his pride went out the broken window when the engine sputtered once before sounding normal again.
“Oh, shit, we’re finally running out of gas.”
CHAPTER 10
Canberra-to-Sydney Train, Australia
After surveying the missing bridge, Destiny and the engineer went back inside the carriage.
“Hi, everyone. Sorry for the delay. My name is Becker. I’m afraid the bridge is out. We have to hike across the ravine.”
Destiny noted Becker didn’t tell them he was an engineer trainee.
The politicians looked put out, and they huddled together rather than get up and move for the exits.
“What do you think they’re doing?” she asked Becker in a quiet voice.
“Fuck if I know,” he shot back. “Oi, sorry, mate! I cuss when I’m nervous.”
“Me too,” she assured him. “You’re doing fine.”
After a short deliberation, a woman replied. “The other representatives and I will call for a van to come get us. We’re not going through the jungle on some nature hike.” It was the same woman who had yelled at Destiny earlier.
They were hundreds of kilometers from any jungle, but Destiny had to concede the point. Outside, the trees were thick and vine-covered, exactly like the jungles in Queensland and Borneo.
SNAKE messed this up.
Her sister’s text message weighed heavily on her. Everything was changing, and she didn’t want to waste time arguing with assholes.
Becker wasn’t happy about their decision. “But I’ve been told to get you to safety. I called back to the station, and they are diverting a second train to pick us up. All we have to do is walk to the far side of the ravine.” He hesitated for a second. “The other train can’t reach us all the way because the tracks are out.”
“They could send one from that way,” the woman huffed, pointing back to Canberra.
Becker shook his head. “The tracks end at the station. We are the only train on this side of the ravine. Nothing is available to pick us up from behind.”
Destiny had heard enough from the blowhards. “Screw ‘em, mate. If they want to sit here and rot, let them. Let’s hike out of here.”
“Hey!” one of the men said too loudly. “Fuck you, too!”
The anger swelled within her. Politicians, the bane of everyone’s existence. Wankers and blighters all. “Come on, Becker, they’re carrying on like a bunch of, well, politicians. All talk and no do! Ha! We’ll clear out to safety while they’re still discussing it.”
She went out the door and down the steps, praying he would follow her. She figured he’d stick with the larger group of riders inside rather than go with her.
I’m not afraid of the dark.
The giant spotlight still pierced the darkness ahead, but it didn’t do much to light up the trees next to the tracks, and they seemed particularly sinister, as if they’d been painted with ink. For a minute or two, she was completely alone outside the train with the fauna in the dark.
A bat winged its way across the moon, and a rustle suggested movement in a nearby tree. The longer she stood there, the more she heard. Buck up. It’s time to save yourself.
“What a bunch of bastards!” Becker grumbled as he hopped down off the train.
“They aren’t coming?” she asked, trying not to sound relieved at the trainee’s appearance.
“No.”
“Are you?” she added hopefully.
“Trainlink said they were sending another engine to pick us up. There can’t be many engines left, actually, because they keep getting lost or cut off from the main lines, like mine. If the trains stop running, I want to end up in Sydney, not Canberra with that fucking lot.” He pointed inside the car.
She smirked in the darkness, happy to have one ally. “I like the way you think, Becker. I want to be in Sydney, too. Besides, we can’t have that far to walk. The tracks have to start on the other side of the gap, right?”
“And we have the biggest spotlight in the world backing us up,” he said confidently.
They walked past the engine, then jumped in between the rails and strode toward the ravine.
“How long have you been doing this?” she asked to break the silence.
“Just under three weeks,” he said like he was embarrassed.
“Well, I’d say you did pretty damned good in this emergency. We—”
A wave of nausea washed over her, and she crumpled to the tracks. Becker fell next to her. The train’s headlight extinguished, leaving the area as a big pit of darkness.
Search for Nuclear, Astrophysical, and Kronometric Extremes (SNAKE). Red Mesa, Colorado
Faith was glad General Smith already had a team going to CERN to confirm what was happening on that end, but she didn’t plan on sitting around for six hours waiting for a report. She put out a call to her computer and physics groups and requested the leaders meet her in the tunnel where the first box was moved.
She rode the Silver Bullet with Bob and Sun, giving her a few minutes alone with them.
“Do you think this tram is safe?” she asked, absently looking out the window at the white blocks of light shooting by.
“You mean, will it crash?” Bob inquired. “I don’t think so. It seems pretty safe to me.”
He knew about her irrational fear of being in cramped quarters, although she hid it fairly well from everyone else.
“No, I’m talking about the energy bursts and time-shifting weirdness. Maybe the Silver Bullet will run over someone who appears on the tracks out of nowhere. Or the three of us will disappear and wake up in a dinosaur nest.”
There was no consistency to the news broadcasts. Some things appeared from the past, but modern people also went missing.
“What are you saying, Doctor Sinclair?” asked the always-formal Indian scientist.
“Oh, just a theory I shared with General Smith and the NORAD jerks when I was trying to stop them from removing that box. I think I confirmed it later. I saw the red wave shoot out from the ground with my own eyes. It came out exactly in line with the collider ring. The energy then formed a growing ripple broadcasting outward from SNAKE, but it did not come inward. I think that is significant.”
The three of them fell silent. Faith was sure she was right about that one small piece of the mystery, but she still didn’t know what it meant.
A quiet chime announced their arrival, and the car decelerated gently. Seconds later, they pulled into the well-lit station and stopped. Three guards greeted her and motioned them from the car. NORAD scientists and some of her people gathered along the collider ring where the Four Arrows box had been pulled out of service.
“I’m glad to see the research is ongoing,” she said quietly.
Sun gestured to the device sitting about ten feet from where it had been. “My team has been working on isolating the power supply inside the box, Dr. Sinclair. If we knew what it was, we might have a better understanding of the nature of the energy flow.”
Faith turned to Bob. “Do you have anything to add?” She was still upset at him for not telling her earlier about his role in setting up the secret experiment between CERN and SNAKE, but her goal at the moment was learning what she didn’t know about the strange devices and using that to extrapolate the
cause of the blue and red blasts of energy.
“I don’t know for sure. I’m being honest. My understanding of these links was that the Four Arrow project was designed to test the viability of quantum entanglement. It was supposed to project energy from one point on Earth to another, kind of like a wireless internet connection. They told me the goal was to power both boxes with the colliders and link them with their proprietary technology.”
Faith groaned but didn’t say what she wanted to. He’d let the project go forward without a full understanding of the science or the hardware being used.
“Well, that at least tells us something,” she replied. “Can we open the box?”
Bob breathed in through his teeth. “I don’t think so, Faith. They sealed the cabinets by welding them shut. If we cut in, we might destroy something important.”
“At this point, does it matter?” Sunetra deadpanned. “I would like to get a better look at what inspired this project. It might give me a nudge in the right direction on how to stop it.”
Faith agreed, and saw the connection with their earlier conversation. “And it might help us piece together how these boxes are affecting the direction of the energy bursts.”
It might also answer a question she’d been dancing around since that early conversation with Donald.
Was it safe inside the ring?
Little America, Wyoming
Connie sat next to Buck at the restaurant. She was done with her chicken sandwich, but he was still working on the half-pound burger he’d ordered. She had her arm slung over the top of his chair and gently rubbed his back with her fingernails. It was like she knew he was wracked with doubt about not being able to make contact with Garth.
She made it easy to get distracted.
He glanced at her from time to time without being too obvious about it and admired her new outfit. After joking about buying her something tasteless, he had let her buy whatever she desired in the truck stop’s clothing department as another payment for his role in destroying her Volkswagen. She bought faded blue jeans, something she described as a “darling leather cowgirl belt,” and a long-sleeved white blouse that exposed both her shoulders. As before, he thought she came right out of a country and western lifestyle catalog, but it made her extremely happy to find what she wanted.
“Thanks, Buck,” she said when their eyes met. “This all fits perfectly. I’m proud I was able to eat without dumping chicken on myself. That’s what usually happens with me and new clothes.”
“I’m a little disappointed I couldn’t get you to buy something more truck stop-y,” he mused, “although for a fifty-four-year-old woman, you sure do dress like a young’un.”
She pulled her arm off the back of his chair and smacked him on the shoulder. “You should never talk about a woman’s age!”
Monsignor, Eve, Beans, and Sparky sat at the table with them. They’d been talking among themselves while they ate, but Connie’s jest focused their attention on Buck and her.
“You’re fifty-four?” Eve asked. “You look amazing.”
“Yeah, I would never have guessed,” Monsignor added.
Buck laughed. “It’s an inside joke. She’s from 2003, so I added a few years to her real age. I have it on good authority that she isn’t a day over thirty.”
Connie rolled her eyes and laughed. “They aren’t stupid, Buck, but it was a nice try. They know I have an eighteen-year-old son.”
“Did you have him at twelve?” the young Monsignor asked after subtracting numbers in his head.
“No, you fool,” Sparky interjected. “She’s not thirty for real. She only looks thirty.”
Connie melted. “Aw, that’s so sweet. Thank you.”
Buck was impressed with the older man’s political savvy. He had said exactly the right thing.
She put her fingernails back on his Hawaiian shirt, signifying their friendly sparring was at an end, but her sympathetic touch immediately reminded him of Garth again.
Come on, son, check in.
“All I know is, I didn’t realize truck stops were this elaborate,” Connie continued to the group. “I’m going to have to remember this place when I write a book about my journey. It really does have everything a normal person needs.”
Buck focused on chewing his burger while she discussed her background and writing career with the others. He’d already heard her backstory. However, he couldn’t help but notice people running to the front counter of the restaurant and waving others to check it out.
Danger, Buck. Danger.
He put down the greasy slab. “Hey, guys. Look.”
Everyone turned to the front where Buck motioned.
Beans dropped his knife and fork on his half-eaten plate of ribs with evident frustration. “We finally get a decent meal, and something else goes wrong.”
“Hang tough, Beans,” Buck replied. “I’m going to check it out.”
Connie stood with him. “Me too.”
He smiled, glad she was anxious to stick by his side.
They went to the front of the restaurant together. He let her lead because she was better able to cut through the onlookers. She directed him to the far-right edge of the serving counter where the crowd was thinnest.
An old-style boombox radio sat on the shelf where meals were staged before going out to diners. The staff was huddled around it, listening to the news.
“We say again, Network 5 has learned from two sources that Malmstrom Air Force Base has been placed on lockdown. This site is important because it controls Minuteman III intercontinental ballistic missiles.”
“Oh, no,” Connie blurted.
One of the other truckers smiled at her. “No shit. This is heavy-duty fucked up.” The guy noticed Buck’s rifle and grenade shirt. “Nice shirt, man.”
“Thanks,” Buck replied, smiling to Connie.
“Is this happening in our time?” Buck asked the man. He’d heard enough out-of-time radio broadcasts to be wary.
“Yep, it is happening right now,” one of the restaurant managers replied. “The hotel staff is watching this on television, and they called over here to let us know.”
“What does it mean?” Connie quietly asked Buck.
“I don’t know, but we’ve got to get back out there so we can drive on.”
He and Connie backed away from the radio, but when Buck turned around, he was face-to-face with a few other drivers who had the same idea as him.
First movers.
He nodded at one of the white-bearded truckers, who returned the gesture. The man then walked away at high speed, but he shoved another guy, who dropped a plate on the hard floor. The plate breaking and clink of silverware made everyone aware that something was amiss.
Connie waved to get Sparky’s and the other convoy drivers’ attention. Buck twirled his finger in the air to signal that it was time to spin up the engines and go. Beans and the others stood as one, which undoubtedly compounded the confusion in the room. Several others who had been listening to the radio now gestured or shouted for their associates to get up and leave.
Panic rippled through the restaurant as the news spread. Truckers and travelers sprang from their seats, tipped over chairs, and ran for the doors. His team was on the move, too.
“Go!” he yelled to Connie.
CHAPTER 11
Georgetown, Delaware
“C’mon, car, don’t fail me now.” Garth let up on the gas, hoping it would get them farther down the road.
“Why is your tacks-see behaving this way?”
He sighed with frustration. “I told you, it needs gas. It’s a liquid, and it goes in the red container we bought.” The gas can tumbled around the back seat. “I need to find a place that sells it.”
“What does it look like? Perhaps I’ll spy one on my own.”
How to describe a gas station?
“There are pumps on the ground, like big boxes lined up next to each other with hoses sticking out of one side. It usually has a large shelter over
it, like a flat metal tent.”
She seemed satisfied and began to look around, but there was nothing besides trees. Since they left the Dollar Palace, it had seemed like they were driving away from civilization rather than toward it.
“It has to be soon, or we’ll have to pull over.” No good could come of parking on the side of the road in a taxi missing a window. The weather was much better, so people were out. People meant trouble. Plus, the looters had already seen the taxi. If they came along in their box truck full of stolen goods, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine them pulling over to look for more contraband in an abandoned vehicle.
I have to do something.
The car sputtered again as they came around a curve through the woodlands. He spotted a small gravel driveway off to the side of the road, so he decided to take a chance.
“We’ll pull off,” he declared.
He turned downhill into a long driveway, and the motor died on the way. After a slight bend in the path, it came out at the side of an old log cabin. Garth guided the dead car as far as he could, but it ran out of momentum about fifty feet from the isolated house.
“They’ll help us,” she said in a comforting voice.
He gripped the wheel, contemplating them being at the mercy of whoever was inside the wooden shack. When no one came out or shifted the drapes of the windows, he let out the breath he’d been holding.
“I don’t think anyone is home.”
“In my time, it is not that unusual to pay visits to neighbors or spend the night with strangers. People are very friendly, usually. They’ll give you some food and a place to stay for the night.”
He chuckled. “Things aren’t like that anymore. If these people were home, they might have come out with a shotgun to tell us to get lost. Dad taught me never to open the door for strangers. If someone came to the door asking to use the phone, I was supposed to tell them I’d make the call for them if they’d give the number.”
Broad America: A Post-Apocalyptic Adventure (End Days Book 3) Page 8