by Ryan King
"Do we have that much airplane fuel?" asked Harold.
Beau's smile faltered. "No...but I think the tanks will run on regular fuel. At least for a few hours before it superheats and destroys the engines."
"Then what are you going to do?" asked Luke.
Beau looked like he was sucking lemons. "We scuttle the tanks. Blow their insides and then run and hide."
The men looked at each other for a long moment.
"We can't let those tanks fall into enemy hands no matter what," said Butch. "We don't have anything that can stop them. You know that better than anyone."
"I won't let that happen," promised Beau. "We'll buy Paducah time to evacuate north. When we're short on fuel, we'll destroy the tanks and then run."
"You might not be able to escape," commented Luke.
Beau nodded. "I know, but it's worth the risk."
Luke stared at Beau and then down at the map. "We could also help. Conduct some attacks on their flanks to the east. Don't think we have enough to really do them damage, but maybe draw away some of their forces. At least make a general nuisance of ourselves."
Harold looked at Butch and then nodded.
"Okay," said Butch. "Paducah has only about a week's worth of food left. We need to be prepared to execute this before then. Major Myers, Major Carter. Get with my staff and start working out the details of this plan. I want a full brief the day after tomorrow. Make sure everyone involved gets a warning order to prepare, but keep it generic. I don't want word to get out."
"Worried about spies?" asked Harold.
"Hell, yes," answered Butch. "All these refugees, we have no idea where their loyalties lie. If I were in Schweitzer's shoes, I'd make sure there were infiltrators."
"We'll keep it quiet," answered Luke. "My men know how to keep their mouths shut."
"Good," answered Butch. "And Major Myers."
"Yes, sir."
"I can't give you fifteen hundred gallons of gasoline," said Butch. "You'll get five hundred. Make it count."
Beau looked like he wanted to argue, but then nodded. "Will do, sir." He followed Luke out of the room.
"Speaking of gasoline," said Harold, "do you think our other secret mission will be successful?"
"No doubt," answered Butch. "It will work."
"What makes you so sure?" asked Harold. "A lot of things can go wrong."
"I know," answered Butch, "because David Taylor is in charge of the job. He'll accomplish the mission even if it kills him and every one of his men. He's one of those sorts."
"I hope it doesn't come to that," said Harold cringing at the idea of having to face Bethany Taylor.
"Neither do I," said Butch. "But that's the type of fight we're in now."
Harold looked like he wanted to say something, then closed his mouth. Turning from General Matthews, he walked out the door into the cold snowy day.
Chapter 5 - Unsavory Visit
Conrad McKraven knew the way well. In fact, he had been to the Taylor's house several times and lost the courage to do what needed to be done. He made his way through the throngs of people gathered around campfires outside numerous tents. The snow had stopped for a few hours and everyone was treating it like spring. Children ran and played while the adults took the opportunity to clean clothes or cook. It seemed like the population of New Harvest had doubled since Conrad and his family arrived a few weeks before.
There was always a good reason to postpone the task. They had put him in charge of training new recruits, a job he found surprisingly rewarding. When he wasn't training recruits he was working to prepare the rundown cabin that was theirs for the winter. He hardly any free time at all, no one could blame him for not coming sooner.
He climbed the front porch of a well-maintained cottage overlooking the grey cold water of Kentucky Lake. After a moment's hesitation he knocked on the door and waited. A thin, elderly and dignified gentleman opened the door.
This was not what Conrad was expecting. "Am I at the Taylor place?"
"You are," the man answered. "Forgive my brusqueness but who are you and what do you want?"
Conrad thought about walking away, instead he answered, "I'm Conrad McKraven and I'm here to see Missus Taylor. I ran into her husband and son over in Missouri."
The man looked at him suspiciously for a moment before opening the door wider and holding out his hand. "I'm Reggie Philips. Bethany kindly offered to let my wife and me live with her. Come in please."
Conrad stomped the snow off his boots and stepped into the welcome warmth. The glow of electric lights still amazed him. He supposed in time he would get used to it, but for now it was a marvel.
"You can hang your coat and weapons there," Reggie said pointing to coat tree by the door.
Conrad took off his coat and, after a second's trepidation, the pistol belt. He didn't like being unarmed, even here, but he sensed a hard resolve in this old man.
Reggie led him down a narrow hallway into an open living room. Two women looked up at him expectantly. One was dark and beautiful, her stomach only starting to show the signs of pregnancy. She met his gaze but did not smile. The other older woman grinned up at him openly. Conrad was surprised to see that she was missing a leg.
"Ladies," said Reggie, "this is Conrad McKraven from Missouri. He says he ran into Nathan and Joshua over there. Mister McKraven, this is my wife Janice and this is Bethany Taylor."
"Oh, we're so pleased to meet you," said Janice. "It is nice to get visitors."
"Beau Myers told us about you," Bethany said dryly.
Conrad was surprised. "He did?"
"Of course," she answered. "The first opportunity he had, Major Myers came here to tell me what he knew about my husband. It was the only courteous thing to do. Just as you are doing now, I presume, although you have been here weeks longer." She leaned forward to scrutinize the big man. "What is it exactly that has taken you so long?"
"Bethany," said Reggie in a warning voice. "Mister McKraven is a guest. Why don't we ask him to sit? Would you like something to drink?"
Conrad smiled at Reggie gratefully as he sank into a hard chair opposite the beautiful, dark, and intense woman trying to stare holes through him. "Thank you; water would be great."
There was awkward silence until Reggie returned and handed him a glass of clear water.
"So what is it you do here?" asked Janice.
Conrad was relieved to be able to focus on something other than Missus Taylor's stare. "I help train new army recruits."
"So you're a soldier," Bethany said. "Beau told us you were part of the Missouri Alliance."
He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
"Yet," she continued, "Major Myers said you were key to helping many of our JP people escape. Said you worked with my husband and that he vouched for you. Got you here."
"That's true," nodded Conrad.
She leaned forward even further toward him. "Then why are you so damn nervous? Looks like something is eating you up inside. Something you want to say, need to say, but really don't want to. The real reason we haven't had this conversation before, I suspect."
"Janice, dear," said Reggie, "let's go in the other room and give these two some privacy."
"I'd prefer you stayed," said Bethany. "I don't know this man and if his few minutes here are any indication, he's dishonest."
"I haven't been dishonest," Conrad growled feeling the edges of anger.
Bethany smiled for the first time. "But you haven't been honest either. You have something to say, but you're not saying it. Must be pretty bad."
Conrad matched her gaze and then dropped his head.
"Do you have a family, Mister McKraven?" Bethany asked.
"Yes," he answered looked back up.
"Any children?"
Conrad sighed. "Yes. A little boy and girl."
"That's wonderful," she said. "Children are a true blessing. They can cause your heart to soar or smash it to pieces. Yet, your love for them is constant. They are a part of you. Do
you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am, I do."
"So you understand how important my sons are to me," she stated. "The only thing that explains your attitude here is that you know something about Joshua. Something bad." She paused for a long time. "Is he dead?"
"I...I...don't know," Conrad said.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
He looked at Reggie as if for help. The man stared back at him impassively. "I mean he could be alive. He escaped a few days before the JP attack on our camp. He and two other JP prisoners. We never found them."
"Escaped?" she said her composure cracking slightly. "He got away?"
Conrad nodded. "Somehow got the drop on his two guards. Amazing really, considering how badly..."
"How badly what?" she asked.
This was the point Conrad dreaded. She deserved to know her son might be okay, he just didn't know how to tell only part of what happened. "You see, Joshua captured me and my boys. He made us take him to our camp. Thought he was going to get some of his men back. We turned the tables on him."
"You?" she asked. "It was you who captured my son?"
"He did have a gun on me," explained Conrad defensively. "Gave 'em an opportunity to surrender, but he decided to fight. Had to kill a few of his men, but Joshua was okay other than a sore head. We threw 'em in cages until they could be questioned."
"Questioned," said Bethany distastefully. "That word has so many different meanings. Was it you who did thequestioning Mister Conrad?"
"No," he answered.
"But you were there," she said. "Tell me what they did to my son."
Conrad hesitated,too late to turn back now. "You have to understand that Vincent Lacert is not a man to trifle with or deny. Joshua frustrated him, wouldn't answer his questions."
"Just tell me what happened," her voice wavered for the first time.
"They burned him, with gunpowder," Conrad answered. "First his arms, and then the top of his head. Your son finally gave in when they threatened to burn his uh..."
The room was silent for what seemed like eons.
"Oh, dear Lord," Janice finally said with her hand over her mouth.
"And you watched all of this," Bethany dripped hate, her lip shook. "It must have just been positively terrible for you to have to witness that."
His anger returned. "What was I supposed to do? Let Vincent torture and kill my wife and children? You have no idea what he would have done to them and then me. I didn't like it, but that's the way it was. Got the Doc to look at him afterwards and do what he could. I'd say I did damn right by your son, all things considered."
Bethany's jaw tightened. "Did you tell any of this to my husband?"
Conrad looked away.
"At least you're not dumb, Mister McKraven," she said. "Part of me wishes you had told him so he could have done to you what I want to."
"Now, ma'am -" he protested.
"Was there anything else?" she asked. "Anything you've left out? Anything that burdens your conscience that you need to relieve yourself of here?"
Conrad shook his head.
"Then I think it's time for you to leave," she said.
Reggie stood and indicated the front door with one outstretched hand.
Conrad didn't move for a few seconds. This wasn't how he wanted it to go. He wanted them to understand the position he was in. That he had responsibilities to his family. That he had done plenty.
He kept his mouth shut, stood and walked to the front door. Conrad put on his pistol belt and coat.
Reggie grasped the doorknob and pulled, letting in a gust of cold wind.
Conrad stepped through the door and looked back at Bethany who was staring at her hands. "Ma'am," he finally said. "I'm real sorry." Then he turned and left.
Reggie closed the door carefully and turned to see Bethany on the verge of tears. "You okay?" he asked.
She nodded and tears actually did begin to flow down her cheeks. "He could be alive out there. Beau said Nathan would be looking for him. They could be together right now."
"That's true," said Reggie. "It's not all bad news."
Bethany put her face in her hands. "My poor Joshua. My baby. Theyburned him. How could they do that?"
Reggie moved over and sat down beside her not knowing what to say. He placed his arm around the woman and she leaned into him accepting his comfort and cried more. After a few minutes she straightened and began wiping her face.
"Sorry about that," she said.
"No need to apologize, dear," said Janice whose eyes were full to brimming.
"Just one more thing," Bethany said.
"What's that?" asked Reggie.
"David. He can't know any of this. Ever," she insisted.
"Why?" asked Reggie. "You afraid what he might do?"
"Maybe," she answered slowly. "The fact is, I don't know how he might react. I never have."
They sat quietly as the chilly wind beat against the outside of the cabin.
Chapter 6 - Gunpowder and Gasoline
David walked as calmly as he could, trying to blend in among all the college students. Murray State University had certainly been hurt by the Apocalypse, but the JP government had made it a point to keep the university open. Students strolled among the tall buildings or talked with friends.
This could have been me, thought David.I would have had a football scholarship for any of the six schools offering. Instead I'm here on a mission.
This thought brought him back to reality and he oriented himself and angled toward the old Murray State Arena in the center of the university. General Matthews told him he would smell the rendering of potassium nitrate from urine and feces long before the oil refinery odor hit him and he wasn't wrong. David noticed several students hold handkerchiefs over their mouths and noses. David followed suit, grateful for the additional concealment. It wasn't like anyone here would recognize him, but he felt vulnerable out in the open and practically unarmed. Traveling the terrible road from Maryland to the JP had changed him.
He had wanted to travel with weapons and in a team, but Luke Carter convinced him and General Matthews that it wasn't worth the risk. David and each of the three men under him would travel separately and unarmed except for a small pistol and knife.
David adjusted the heavy pack and made his way toward the arena. Matthews said the doors were normally locked, but that security was light. As if on cue, a pretty brunette walked out.
"Hold the door please," he said jogging forward.
"You're supposed to keep your key on you," she said with a smile.
"I know," said David, "can't keep up with everything."
"See you later," she said with a flirtatious smile.
David watched her backside appreciatively and suddenly an image of Alexandra came to mind. He shook his head and closed the door.
He walked along the top part of the arena and looked downward toward the basketball court now covered with oil refinery equipment. Giant steel cylinders connected by miles of metal tubing and heat pipes that led up through the roof. Equipment spilled over into what had once been prime court-side seating. The hum of generators echoed through the area. Men and women worked around the equipment taking no notice of him. As casually as possible he walked further into the structure down an aisle of seats toward the far door leading into the adjacent connected building, the smell of ammonia grew stronger.
David tugged on the door, expecting it to be locked, instead it swung open freely. Looking down, he saw where the lock had been carefully pried open. At least one member of his team had already been here. They had a twelve-hour window when they could plant their devices and he wondered where the rest of his team was.
He looked around the room that was large, dim, and hot. A horrendous smell nearly knocked him over and he put his handkerchief back over his mouth. People were talking at the far end of the room and David moved away toward the opposite wall where large white cloth sacks were stacked on pallets.
Gunpowder, he th
ought.To use against us. To kill us.
"Hey," said a voice behind David. "Yeah you, what are you doing here?"
David turned to find a tall lanky man wearing what looked like coveralls. The name Tony was on the breast pocket.
"Hey," said David with a forced smile. "My roommate said he left his backpack in here and asked me to come by and look for it."
"He's not supposed to have backpacks in here anyways," Tony looked disapprovingly at the bag on David's shoulder.
"I'll just be a minute," said David moving away. "Then I'll be out of your way."
"Good," Tony turned away, "we've had way too many visitors here today anyway."
David moved quickly until he was out of sight of Tony and the men and women working at the far end of the room. He set his backpack down and unzipped the top all the way down to the sides. Moving the pistol with the homemade silencer out of the way, he used both hands to carefully lift a square dense object.
It was the device he was to emplace. It was identical to the other three his team carried. Ten pounds of plastic explosive. David flipped one switch on the control board strapped to the top of the improvised bomb. One red light lit up, telling him that all four explosive devices were now synched and would detonate as one.
I'm the last one, he thought. Everyone made it.All the devices are synched now.
Taking a deep breath, David turned another switch and pushed a button, arming the device and all the others. If anyone on his team pushed the wrong button now, everything would be vaporized. He carefully slid the package into the open space under the wooden pallet, took a thin wire antenna and ran it up to the top of the stack emplacing it between two bags of gunpowder where it could hopefully get a good signal.
Placing the pistol back inside the bag and zipping it up, David stood and put it on his back. As casually as he could he walked back toward the exit.
"I see you didn't find your friend's backpack," Tony yelled from across the room.