Survivors: Deconstruction Book Five (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller)

by Rashad Freeman

  SURVIVORS

  DECONSTRUCTION

  BOOK FIVE

  By Rashad Freeman

  Copyright © 2018 by Rashad Freeman

  www.rashadfreeman.com

  Rashad.Freeman@rashadfreeman.com

  www.facebook.com/rashadthewriter

  Twitter: @RashadFreeman

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without the expressed written consent of the author.

  THE TURN

  Well, this is it. The blueprint has been laid out. Finally, we get to see all the characters together as the fight for survival rages on. Sorry it took so long, but as the end of this series draws near I find it harder to let these characters go. With only one book left, I feel like I’m preparing to send a kid off to college. There is good news however, since I plan to write a spin off to the series which will be titled Deconstruction AD. This series will take place more than twenty years in the future when the survivors that left Earth decide to come back home. I plan to start the series some time in 2019 so stay tuned. But let’s get back to the matter at hand. I offer you…Survivors. I hope you enjoy, happy reading.

  “We don’t even know how strong we are until we are forced to bring that hidden strength forward. In times of tragedy, of war, of necessity, people do amazing things. The human capacity for survival and renewal is awesome.” – Isabel Allende

  CHAPTER 1

  FIRST STRIKE

  The massive, faded gray helicopters touched down in a grassy field near Fort Pierce as their blades twisted the air into a cyclone. Lockship and Koran leapt onto the ground and were quickly followed by Hunter and Randall. They stooped out of instinct as the shards of metal swirled overhead.

  “Randall,” Melinda called out and threw a utility vest at him. “You forgot this.”

  “Thanks,” he replied.

  “This way!” Lockship snapped.

  He scampered down the gentle slope with a nervous gait. Hunter and Koran made their way behind him, their movements were coordinated and rehearsed, the product of a lifetime spent in harm’s way. Randall straggled, fumbling with the vest and his rifle before pausing and staring back to the helicopter.

  “Be safe!” Melinda yelled to him and blew a kiss.

  He smiled and returned the gesture then hurried off after the others. Lockship swung his hand in the air and one of the helicopters lifted off and started circling the area. The other one powered down and the remaining soldiers took up defensive positions, surrounding the metal bird.

  “Why so far away?” Randall asked as the group started toward the smoldering field nearly a mile into the compound.

  “We know what we’re doing. Just keep that pea shooter pointed down range,” Hunter replied in agitation then headed off.

  Randall glared at him and clenched his jaw. “Asshole,” he grumbled.

  “Come on,” Koran said and nudged him on the arm. “All those guys are wound up. Just let it go.”

  “Screw him. We all have a right to know what’s going on. They can’t decide for us, it’s not like what it used to be.”

  Koran shrugged and threw his hands up. “I’m just saying. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

  Randall contorted his face and nodded. Biting his tongue, he started down the trail with Koran, still cursing under his breath.

  His anger quickly dissipated as he turned his attention to the eerie silence that surrounded him. The staccato-like thud from the helicopter circling overhead had already faded and he was confronted with the melody of death. Not just at the command post, but everywhere.

  It made the hair on his arms stand on end. He’d tried to ignore it, tried to push it to the back of his mind, but it was a reality he couldn’t escape. The world was suddenly much smaller and the quiet that he would’ve once welcomed, meant no one else was alive.

  “Randall!” Koran snapped, pulling him from his thoughts. “Keep up.”

  They moved swiftly through the thick grass at almost a jog. A sense of urgency fueled every muscle fiber with purpose, but they needed to be careful. They’d flown over the area several times and while it looked abandoned, they couldn’t take anything for granted.

  The area was well hidden. National forests surrounded the small installation and any form of civilization was miles away. But they were living in a different time, in a few short weeks mankind had grown wild. Nothing was safe anymore.

  As they neared the compound they slowed and took a knee behind a cluster of trees. Lockship pulled out a pair of binoculars and surveyed the base in silence.

  “How’s it look?” Hunter asked.

  “Not good,” he replied.

  Over the compound the air was a cloud of acrid smoke. The thick plume moved like it was alive, stretching webs of emaciated fingers across the dreary backdrop.

  Everything was gone. Every structure, every vehicle, every person obliterated like they’d never lived before. They thought they were returning to save the place, but they’d returned to a wasteland.

  “Ops is still standing,” Lockship said in a surprised tone. “It’s banged up, but someone could still be alive in there.”

  Hunter nodded then checked over his rifle and tapped the cluster of magazines strapped to his chest. Koran did the same and Randall took a deep breath and tried to swallow down his fear.

  “Stay close,” Lockship ordered then sped across the clearing.

  Like a small army of ants, the rest followed Lockship across the scorched concrete toward the only remaining structure, the command center. It was partially demolished, but it looked sound and if anyone was alive, it would be in there.

  They approached the tiny, gray facility cautiously. The crunch of rubble and ash was a cacophony against the lonely silence that seemed to grow as the minutes ticked by. Each step was a thunderous boom, announcing that life had returned.

  Lockship reached the door and paused. He tightened his grip on the M4 and stretched his index finger along the side of the guard. Koran and Hunter mirrored his movements then they all looked back to Randall.

  “Stay out here and we’ll clear it first,” Lockship ordered.

  “Fuck that! I’m here just like you…we’re all in this now,” Randall objected as his pistol shook in his hand.

  Lockship glared at him then grabbed the handle and wrenched the door open. He swept inside as the others piled in behind him and were quickly cloaked in darkness.

  “I can’t see shit,” Randall barked loudly.

  “Shut up!” Koran snapped as he clicked the light on the side of his rifle and gawked. “Jesus.”

  Sweeping the light back and forth, he illuminated the room, casting the beam on a horrific scene. Towards the front there was a row of desks that had been set up for communications with the field. The five operators were slumped forward in their seats with a single gunshot wound to the back of the head.

  To the side of them were the rest of the staff. They’d all had their hands bound behind their backs and looked like they’d been tortured before being executed.

  The office had been ransacked. Chairs were toppled over, filing cabinets emptied and their contents strewn across the floor. The smell of gun smoke
still clung in the air and the unmistakable taste of lead laced their tongues.

  “What does this mean?” Randall mumbled the question.

  “It means command has been compromised. It means we need to get back to the cutter right now!” Lockship said as he turned on the balls of his feet.

  “You’re…you’re just gonna leave them like this?”

  “They’re dead, I don’t think they care how we leave them.”

  Marching out of the door, Lockship pressed his radio and barked orders to the helicopter pilots. Without a glance back, he jogged toward the field they’d landed in, but paused as Hunter called out to him.

  “Lockship!” Hunter shouted. “We’re not done here.”

  Lockship turned around with a look of annoyance. “Yes, we are.”

  “No…you know what this means. You know what they were doing here. We at least need to look around. Maybe get an idea of who the hell is responsible.”

  Lockship considered him for a moment then waved his hand. “Be quick, I’m heading back to the helo.”

  “Come on,” Hunter said and nodded to Koran and Randall.

  Lockship watched as they hurried off then turned and made his way back to the landing zone. Melinda was nearly jumping out of the helicopter as he arrived.

  “Where’s Randall?” she asked desperately.

  “He’s with the others, he’s fine. They’re still looking around.”

  Lockship stepped onboard and tapped the pilot’s shoulder as the other helicopter slowly descended beside them.

  “How we looking?” he asked.

  “Gas is low, but we can make it to the cutter…that’s about it. We’ll have to refuel there before heading to staging site.”

  “Alright, we’re wheels up as soon as Hunter gets back.”

  CHAPTER 2

  GHOST SHIP

  “You see anything?” Hunter asked.

  “Negative,” Lockship replied and set the binoculars on the seat next to him.

  He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes before leaning his head back in defeat. Time was running out and he couldn’t ignore the feeling in his gut much longer. This was the eye of the storm, something much worse was looming just out of sight.

  “So, what now?”

  “I don’t know,” Lockship gasped. “I don’t know.”

  Randall watched them in silence then looked away as Hunter turned in his direction. He leaned his head against the glass and stared out of the window down into the Atlantic, searching for a ship that didn’t exist. He’d never seen the sea so peaceful, so calm and empty. It should’ve made him feel better, but he knew peace never lasted long. He’d quit looking for it, he’d accepted that his life was now a constant swing from crisis to crisis.

  Whether it was weeks or months that had passed since he first left his home, he didn’t know any more. To him it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime of running to survive. A lifetime of struggle and heartbreak and perpetual fear. The world seldom slowed enough for him to stop and think, but when he did it was impossible to fully comprehend how much he had lost.

  Things like family vacations or the next game he had to volunteer at seemed so trivial. He wondered how he ever cared about things like that. His existence had been a fickle one. If anything, the end of the world had given him focus, had showed him what really mattered.

  The helicopter shimmied, breaking Randall from his reverie as he turned toward the cabin with a concerned look. “What was that?”

  “It’s nothing,” Lockship replied before the pilot could respond.

  They were floating somewhere off the coast of Florida but there wasn’t a speck of land in view. A coast guard ship should’ve been in the water below them, but they hadn’t been able to reach them on the radio and the mirror of turquoise was barren.

  “We need to look at some place to put this down,” Frank announced.

  “What?” Lockship replied.

  “We’ve been out here for ten minutes. There’s no cutter and we’re flying on fumes. Either we find somewhere to land, or this bird is gonna become a boat.”

  Lockship stared down at the water and swallowed. He rubbed his hands together and bounced his leg anxiously. Nothing had gone how it was supposed to. Nothing had worked out and now he was straining under the weight of responsibility. With a deep breath, he looked back to the pilot and nodded.

  “Alpha two time to wrap it up,” Frank called over the radio.

  “About time,” Thomas replied.

  Jacob, Frank’s co-pilot started flipping switches and pointing out objects on the screen. Frank gave him a thumbs up then glanced over his shoulder into the cabin.

  “On the fly over,” he started. “I saw an old airpark about twenty miles outside of Jupiter. I think I can get us there, fuel up then head for the airbus in West Palm.”

  “Head for the cutter,” Lockship corrected him.

  “Sir?”

  “I won’t be responsible for losing both. You understand?”

  Frank glanced back to the gauges then back to Lockship. “Our choices are gonna be limited by fuel. No telling what to expect there. And that crew isn’t gonna wait forever…we’re already late.”

  Lockship reluctantly agreed then leaned back as the helicopter banked to the left and swung around. The other bird mimicked their movement and they made a beeline for dry land.

  “Great plan you guys have here,” Koran complained. “Your base is fucked, you lost a fucking ship and we’re about to run out of gas over the Atlantic. Lockship, who’s in charge of this shit show?”

  “You’re here as a courtesy colonel,” Hunter said.

  “Ex-colonel!” Lockship snapped. “And if you have a problem with anything, there’s the door.”

  Koran fumed then turned in his seat and looked the other way. Randall smirked. It was good to see someone put Koran in his place. He’d been barking orders like he was the boss since the day they met, but at the same time, Randall was just as fed up as he was.

  “What’s going on?” Alistair croaked as he lifted his head slightly.

  Randall grabbed his hand and smiled. “Just a little hold up. We’ll get you somewhere safe soon. I promise.”

  “Nothing’s safe anymore,” Alistair replied.

  Randall took a deep breath and frowned. “What happened to all that positivity you used to have?”

  Alistair glanced down at the gauze wrapped around his waist and shrugged. “It’s not positive or negative, it’s just reality. Things happen dad.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “I saw there were so more kids.”

  Randall smiled. “Yeah, a few of them. All your age…some girls too.”

  “Do they know what’s happened?”

  “We don’t even know what’s happened Alistair. They were on a cruise somewhere that sank out in the Caribbean. I don’t think they know much.”

  The helicopter suddenly shuttered again, but more violently. Melinda grabbed a hold of Charlie as he was jolted out of his seat and shot a wary eye to Randall. Panicking, she quickly buckled his seatbelt and did the same with David.

  “Hang on!” Frank announced loudly. “Gonna put this thing down fast and not too gently.”

  Randall’s stomach twisted itself into a pretzel as he felt the bird suddenly drop. His face was flush with terror, his eyes wide with disbelief. Leaning back in his seat, he grasped at the air, mumbling a prayer under his breath.

  The helicopter banked hard to the right as the tail swung in a long arc, shifting the occupants like a carnival ride. An alarm sounded from the cockpit and the pilots frenzied voices called out distances and altitudes that were approaching at an increasing rate.

  Randall could see the swatch of green racing toward them. Terror laced his veins as the fear of death stole the air from his lungs.

  “That’s it. Tanks empty,” Frank said desperately with his fingers wrapped around the collective.

  Alistair gripped the seat frame and squeezed like he could pull them
back into the air. Randall lurched forward and tried to grab him but was slung back into his seat. Melinda let out a terrorizing wail then with a solid thud the helicopter slammed into the ground.

  The skids held as they slid across the grass. They dug a trail into the ground, plowing through the field like a tractor. With a violent rumble, and a shutter from the rotors, the helicopter finally came to rest.

  “Not bad,” Jacob said with a grin.

  Before anyone could react, a loud whoosh rumbled the cabin from overhead. Like an enormous vulture, the second helicopter swept by and landed a few feet away. The motor whined as it powered down and a string of soldiers tumbled out of the door with wild eyes.

  “You guys okay?” one of the men yelled as he approached Randall’s chopper.

  “You people are incredibly bad at your jobs,” Koran groaned, and he pushed himself toward the door. “It’s not bad enough that the world is ending, but you gotta crash the damn helicopter too.”

  “Shut up!” Lockship barked as he made his way outside and looked around.

  They were at a small, private airpark where people from the neighboring communities took their planes on joy rides. It was empty except for a few Cessna and a maintenance cart. The hangars and administrative buildings were still standing, and the surrounding area looked stable.

  It was the best they could hope for. Most facilities in the area were completely decimated, but they were also out of fuel and miles away from any aircraft that could get them to where they needed to be.

  As the rest of the team stepped out of the helicopter Lockship walked toward the small runway, cursing to himself. Randall followed him with his eyes then turned back to Melinda and gave her an uneasy look.

  “I’m guessing this wasn’t part of the plan?” Alistair asked as he held his stomach and balanced on Randall’s shoulder.

  “How you are feeling?” Randall replied.

  “I’ve been through worse.”