The greasy man eyed him warily, then reached down to Garth’s open pockets.
“Holy Toledo! Frank, this kid is carrying a piece!” The gangster grabbed his subcompact pistol and stepped back. “It’s some futuristic thing. Look.”
The gun was small enough to sit in the man’s hand like a kitten. There was a cat calendar on the wall behind the counter, which gave him the idea for the comparison.
Both men laughed. “Guns are dangerous, kid. I’ll keep this for you.” The man shoved the little gun into his pants pocket and kept the large revolver trained on Garth’s face.
“Um, you can have my wallet, but please don’t take my phone.”
The guy opened the wallet and seemed disappointed. There was no money in the billfold, though there was a library card and his school ID.
“You have no money?” the man asked with anger.
Garth shook his head. “I spent it all on gas. It cost fifty dollars to fill my tank.”
“Fifty dollars?” the man cried out. “You spent fifty on gasoline?”
“Benny,” the other man in the suit called out. “Keep it together. This kind woman is giving me the money in her drawer. There is more than you can imagine.”
The robber looked at Garth’s phone next. “This isn’t a gun too, is it? You called it a phone, but that’s impossible.”
“It is,” Garth replied. “You can call people on it and talk to them. They are common as can be in the year 2020.” After spending time with Lydia, he was mentally prepared to meet people from a different time.
“2020? You think it is 2020?” For the first time, Garth thought the man looked like he wasn’t in control.
“Oh, it is 2020, for sure,” Garth replied. “There’s a calendar right there behind the counter.”
The second bad guy shoved the clerk aside, then pulled the cat calendar off the wall. “Benny, take a look. We’re being played good.”
Benny took the calendar from his friend and looked at it. For one fraction of a second, Garth considered going for the man’s gun, but he didn’t think he had a chance. Even if he succeeded, the guy had his Storm as a backup, and the other man behind the counter could take a hostage.
Just get out of this alive.
“Something about this isn’t right,” Frank added. “The money—it’s got to be counterfeit. The pictures and years are all wrong.”
The man named Frank held a white money bag as he backed away from the counter, but he looked terrified.
“You guys got dizzy, didn’t you?” Garth suggested. “We all did. It messed up time.”
Benny stepped away from the counter to be with his friend, but he still held Garth’s wallet and phone.
“Please, I need my phone,” Garth practically begged.
The men didn’t appear to be in the mood to negotiate.
“You people are crazy,” Benny said. “It can’t be 2020. That’s a hundred years off. And this can’t be a phone. And you can’t be real.”
The gangsters shuffled toward the front door. Each kept their revolvers on Garth and the two ballplayers, despite the other patrons hovering in the wings.
“Okay, this is what’s going to happen,” Frank spoke up when his back was to the front door. “I want everyone face-down on the ground. Whatever year this is, you are about to learn the calling card of the Mackey Brothers.”
Everyone hesitated to comply. For Garth, it seemed surreal to be held up by gangsters, and he wasn’t sure they were serious.
“Get down!” Benny shouted. He pointed his giant revolver at everyone he saw.
Garth dropped to the floor, and the others followed.
“I’m sure you’ve heard of us,” Benny went on. “We always pick one person at random and shoot them in the head before we leave. It’s usually the last person to get down on the floor and shut up.”
Garth was already on the ground, but he chanced a look at Benny.
“I promise,” Benny said, glaring at Garth. “It won’t hurt a bit.”
I-80, Wyoming
Buck, Eve, and Monsignor drove their three trucks toward Cheyenne, leaving a huge gap between Monsignor and Eve, as he had requested. Buck was happy to be moving, but they were only a few miles from Sparky’s crash before Connie gave him some bad news.
“Garth’s phone is ringing, I think, but he isn’t answering. It went to voicemail, but I didn’t say anything. Would you like me to call back for you?” She held his phone.
“No, I’m sure he’s fine. I wouldn’t want my dad calling me every ten minutes either. It might make him lose concentration for whatever he’s doing right now. We’ll try him again once we’re safe.”
He didn’t tell her that trying over and over and getting no answer was also stressful beyond words for him. He needed to focus on the road and the people around him before anyone else rolled over and got hurt. However, he had every intention of calling him once the immediate threats were managed.
He turned on the radio to get information about what was coming up.
“We can now report the shutdown of Interstate 76 between Denver and Fort Morgan, Colorado. Numerous arterial highways are also shut down outside the Mile-High City. Folks, national authorities are still not saying why these closures are necessary, but something is happening inside this zone. Reporters in Denver say there is nothing unusual, but residents are getting scared and the panic is spreading, as you can imagine.”
Buck changed to a local Wyoming AM station. “Ten minutes ago, the Wyoming Highway Patrol broadcast a warning they were shutting down further portions of I-25 in the southeastern part of the state due to a maintenance emergency. We’re still trying to get information on where the shutdowns are taking place.”
“I was right,” Buck responded.
“About what?” Connie replied.
“This maintenance bullshit. They are taking ownership of the highway between Malmstrom Air Base and Denver, like I said before. Something is coming down the highway, heading for SNAKE. That’s what this is all about.”
“You think it had to do with the terrorist attack on SNAKE?” she inquired.
The news had been painfully brief on the cause of the explosion, which told him something too. “I have to admit, I’m the king of conspiracy theories, but wouldn’t it be fitting if the Army was transporting a nuclear bomb from up north so they could blow it up at the wayward lab?”
“That’s nu—” She stopped herself.
“Nuts,” he finished. “I know. But why else would they do it this way? You’re an author. Can you think of alternatives?”
“Aliens? Maybe they have a special unit that only deals with aliens, and they need them there in a hurry.”
“I like that one,” he admitted.
“Hey, either way, though, why aren’t they evacuating the people from the city? They wouldn’t leave them there if aliens came down or if they were going to blow up a bomb, would they?”
“I did my time for Uncle Sam and saw some pretty fucked up orders, but even I don’t think our leaders are capable of such a thing. We wouldn’t nuke our own city. Never. As for aliens, I don’t believe in them, so that’s easy to write off.”
Connie harrumphed as if insulted her idea didn’t suit him.
“Perhaps another alternative is staring us in the face. We just experienced two bad episodes with the blackouts. Maybe things are getting worse, and the Army is sending soldiers to SNAKE to fix it?”
He shook his head to clear out the confusing thoughts.
“Right now, it doesn’t matter. We have to get beyond Cheyenne, and then whatever is going to happen won’t be our concern.”
Connie rubbed Mac’s ruff as he sat tall between their seats.
“I guess you’re right,” she finally agreed. “I’d like to be far away from whatever it is. These shutdowns remind me of an infection. The area of disease spreads out in larger rings. We have to get clear of that.”
They approached a green road sign with the mileage for cities ahead. Con
nie read off the numbers. “Cheyenne, 20. Sidney, Nebraska, 121.”
“Strap yourselves in,” he laughed. “We’re about to find out what’s going on with these closures.” He made a production of giving his Peterbilt extra gas.
“As long as you don’t pass out,” she cautioned.
He backed off the gas again, sure her warning was sound.
CHAPTER 25
Search for Nuclear, Astrophysical, and Kronometric Extremes (SNAKE). Red Mesa, Colorado
Faith’s ribs felt like she’d been kicked by a mule, and the strong coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. She’d fallen to the floor of the tram and was on her back, but she considered herself extremely lucky to be alive.
“Faith,” the general whispered. “We made it. I can see the last Four Arrows box. It hasn’t been blown up.”
The tram car’s lights were out, but the station provided enough illumination to see the warped interior of the Little Scraggy. The door on the side of the car was halfway open, like it was trying to unload passengers one last time.
“Come on,” the general said as he slid down the floor and out the door.
Her phone rang with Dez’s ringtone, but she silenced it for the moment. There was no time to explain what she was doing.
“Right behind you,” she called a second later.
When she made it outside and stood on the platform, she got a good look at what had happened. The Scraggy had rammed the other engine, but their pointed noses had served to guide them apart, like two arrows passing each other. Both trains had come off the guide rails, and the force of the moving engine had pushed the Silver Bullet to the front part of the room, but both were mostly intact.
“They built them well,” she remarked.
The general didn’t answer. He moved toward the target like a lion stalking its prey. She followed as best she could, although her legs seemed to be filled with Jell-O, shaking with each step.
Calm down, lady. You survived.
General Smith walked over to the steps to go up and over the collider ring, but he stopped when he saw to the other side.
“Son, step away from there!” he shouted, and darted over the top.
Faith hopped up and filled the space he’d just abandoned. A young man with cropped hair sat on the floor next to the Four Arrows box.
“Stay there!” the man shouted back. With lower volume, he continued, “My pack is loaded with C4.”
General Smith halted about twenty feet from the man. He put up his hands, too, because the guy had a semiautomatic pistol.
“You don’t have to do this,” Faith yelled, seeing her opportunity. “It won’t matter if you blow it up or not. Each box compensates. The last one will just disburse the energy into the ring.” It was a useful lie. She had no idea what would happen if the last box was shut down, but it was one of her team’s working theories.
“What’s your name, soldier?” Smith asked the man.
“Call me Ed. I’m not with an official unit. My group is…classified.”
“Are you with the outfit out of Malmstrom?”
The man looked up. “Shit, there goes the secret. How did you know that?”
Faith moved next to the general. She vaguely recognized the young man. “You work here, don’t you? Facilities and maintenance, I think.”
He nodded. “I had to learn the insides of your facility. It’s how I was able to walk this down the emergency exit stairs without arousing any suspicion.”
“Where are my men, Ed?” the general asked.
Ed pointed up. “They are safe in the woods. I chased them out with the threat of using this explosive pack on them. Oh, and I took their radios, so they are probably jogging through the forest to find their way back to SNAKE’s main entrance. I expect they’ll be along shortly.”
“And the others?” Smith asked.
“I’m sure the others took care of your men, too. We’re not killers.” Ed seemed to notice he was holding a firearm. “Usually.”
“So, why haven’t you done like the other two and blown this up already?” she pressed.
General Smith glared at her and shook his head as if she’d done something wrong.
Ed still remained seated next to the cabinet. “They got them, huh? I appreciate the intel.”
“Shit,” she mumbled.
“It’s okay.” Smith spoke loudly to her while taking a half-step closer to Ed. “He could have blown up this box when we made our noisy arrival, but he didn’t. That tells me he is having second thoughts.”
Ed chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve spent enough time here to know you scientists are the real deal. You believe that if this last box is wiped away, so too will all of history be. I’m trying to square that with my orders.”
“What were your orders?” Faith asked in a respectful tone. “As the lead scientist here, I don’t want you to do this. I am telling you, there will be horrific consequences.”
“When you work for my group, you learn not to ask too many questions. Even knowing our name can get you a 2am visit from the Bullet Fairy. It’s simply the way things are, you know?”
“No, I don’t. I do things in the open for the betterment of humanity. I don’t work in the shadows.”
“What about this bad boy? Didn’t you know what it would do?” Ed patted the cabinet next to him.
The general sidestepped closer to Ed but spoke to Faith again. “I told you we had members of his special unit arrested and rounded up so they could be brought to SNAKE. They are on the way from Malmstrom.”
“They’ll never make it,” Ed asserted.
“Son, the US Army and Air Force are on top of it. We’re working with the Feds—”
“You couldn’t even keep three of us out of the bowels of your precious facility. We are small but tenacious in keeping our interests secret.”
Ed shifted like he was going to stand up.
He’s going to kill himself.
Faith’s heart started to pound a staccato, threatening to burst from her chest. She knew why the man had delayed blowing up the box. He wanted an audience.
The general spoke to her, “Faith, I want you to—”
He sprinted the last fifteen feet toward Ed.
The gun went off, causing a loud boom in the cramped space of the subterranean room. She was surprised at the turn of events, and for a second had no idea what to do. She could only watch.
General Smith flung himself into Ed’s gut and shoved his head into the concrete wall next to the cabinet.
Ed reeled as the general’s fist slammed into his chin.
“Fuck you!” Ed shouted during a countermove.
She imagined the gun between them, although she couldn’t see it. The general remained hunched over from the impact and struggled with the younger man like he was trying to get the gun.
The other man had been caught between sitting and standing, which put him at a severe disadvantage. Before he could get upright, she swallowed her fear and ran toward the battle.
She had no weapon, and there was nothing lying around to use as one, but she got right into the mix by using both of her hands to pin Ed’s arm to the wall.
“His gun!” Smith grunted.
“You two are going to regret this!” Ed spat at them.
She couldn’t even control the one arm, but she did see the gun because it was pointed away from her toward the Four Arrows box.
Faith didn’t know how to change the outcome of the fight, but saw her opportunity to do some damage to the struggling man pinned to the wall by General Smith.
Obadias jammed his knee into the other man’s crotch.
“Oomph!” Ed reacted to the pain.
The impact opened a small space between the two men, giving her an opening. She bent over, bared the wrist holding the pistol, and bit down with all she had.
Ed screamed and dropped the pistol.
The general punched Ed in the eye socket, which seemed to hurt him as much as Ed.
“Get it!” Smith shou
ted.
Faith slipped on something wet.
Blood.
She didn’t have time to figure out where it came from. She fell to the floor to get the gun, only to get kicked in the cheek by Ed, then her leg was accidentally stepped on by the general.
They paid no attention to her.
The gun was close to the cabinet, so she had to slide around the back of Smith’s legs and then reach for it.
Ed tried to kick her again, but she snatched it before he landed a blow.
“Shoot this bastard,” Smith said in a tired voice.
She struggled backward on her knees, then stood up. She too was exhausted by those few seconds of life-or-death struggle. Still, she didn’t feel right shooting the man.
Smith didn’t let her think about it. “Goddamn it, shoot!”
Ed returned the favor and kneed the general in the groin. The general winced in pain, then crumpled. He desperately hung onto the other man, but stopped fighting, as if he’d run out of gas.
Ed sloughed off his backpack and fiddled with it, seemingly ignoring her.
“I’ll shoot,” she said with determination.
“I can tell you won’t,” he replied as he gave Smith a big shove to the ground.
General Smith was covered with blood. The gunshot had struck him in the chest, but she couldn’t figure out where.
She took a step back but kept the gun trained on Ed. “I don’t want to, but I will. Tell me why you are doing this.” Her hands shook like it was twenty degrees in the room.
“Orders, ma’am. This experiment is over. My bosses want no evidence it ever took place. It really is that simple. I’ve put a sixty-second timer on this. If you run now, you can get out.”
Ed tossed the backpack at her.
She fired the weapon and hit him in the middle of his throat.
The pack slammed into her and she tried to catch it out of instinct, causing her to bobble the gun and the canvas bag at the same time.
Ed fell to the pavement like a soggy bag of garbage.
She stood there shaking for a few seconds, amazed by the terrible damage she’d done.
“Good work, soldier,” Smith croaked.
Broad America: A Post-Apocalyptic Adventure (End Days Book 3) Page 19