by Sean Kidd
Cecilia and Bunker looked back at him with their mouths wide open, staring down the barrel of Beck’s rifle.
When he realized it was them, he lowered the barrel, “Sorry, I thought you guys were in trouble. What the hell are you trying to do anyway?”
Bunker used a finger to point at the vending machine, “I don’t have any money, and Cecilia wanted a candy bar.”
“Cecilia wanted a candy bar, huh?” Beck teased.
Bunker shrugged his shoulders, “I guess if we got it open, I’d have a couple too. Hey, you got any more of that door blasting stuff. That would get this thing open in a hurry.”
“I’ve got something better,” Beck said, “move out of the way.”
Beck reached down to his boot and pulled out a fourteen-inch survival knife.
Bunker eyed the knife, “Ah, you never know when you’re going to need to cut up an apple, eh Rambo?”
Beck smiled, “Yeah, something like that.”
Beck put the point of the knife against the top corner of the vending machine plexi-glass. He gave the top of the handle a solid smack and the blade pushed through. Then with a little effort, he was able to drag the knife downward through the plexi-glass to the opposite bottom corner. He slid the knife back in his boot and grabbed the glass in the middle where he cut it. With both hands, he gave it a pull. One of the large triangle sections came out in one piece.
He reached in, pulled out a Snicker’s bar, and tossed it to Bunker, “Here eat this. You know you turn into a weak bitch when you’re hungry, Princess.”
Cecilia laughed and gave Bunker a slap on the belly, “Don’t eat too many, chubby.”
“Hey,” he protested, “What is this, pick on the convict day?”
They all burst out laughing.
* * *
While the rest of the group filled their bellies in the Intrepid’s tourist areas, Daniels followed Master Chief Sawyer through a maze of steel doors and passages leading deep into the bowels of the boat.
At the end of the line, an enormous steel door blocked them from going any further. Sawyer laid his hand on a flat screen located next to the entrance and watched as a green horizontal line traveled from top to bottom.
Sawyer pulled his hand off the screen and waited. The electronic beeps and errs coming from above the screen reminded them of a computer from the 90s booting up. The sounds stopped and a small steel panel, just large enough to fit a key into, slid open. Sawyer reached up to his neck and removed his dog tags. Next to the two identifying tags was a strangely shaped key. It was like nothing Daniels had ever seen before.
Sawyer inserted the key halfway, turned it to the left and held it for a few seconds until he heard a click. After the click, he pushed it in all the way and turned it to the right. There was a hollow thump, followed by the sound of an electric motor. With the key still inserted, Sawyer glanced back over his shoulder at Daniels, “It’s a good thing we’ve got power right now, because this door would have been a bitch to open without it.”
The motor moved slowly opening the heavy door. Daniels found himself anxious to see the weapon inside.
“Have you ever seen one of these before,” Sawyer asked.
“You mean a bomb? Yeah, I’ve got a television.”
Daniels expected to see something missile like, that you’d strap onto the wing of an airplane or shoot out of the top of a submarine.
Sawyer smirked, “This one may look a little different than the ones on television.”
Now more curious than ever, Daniels moved around the door for a closer look at the bomb.
The room was small, only six-feet by six-feet, it was empty except for an army rucksack and a set of steel sawhorses sitting a few feet apart. The sawhorses had half circle shapes cut into the crossbar for holding things such as missiles and bombs. There was nothing on the sawhorses now.
“It’s gone,” Daniels said, in disbelief.
Sawyer released the key and stepped into the room. He looked at Daniels with his mouth wide open, “Oh, my God. It’s gone.”
Daniels stepped in behind Sawyer and searched the room again, “Maybe terrorists stole it after all this zombie shit started?”
Sawyer tried to keep his composure, “There are two problems with your theory. One, nobody knew the bomb was here. Two, I’m pretty sure all the terrorists are zombies now, and in the same mess as the rest of the world.”
Daniels threw his hands in the air, “Then where the hell did it go?”
Sawyer pointed at the rucksack and laughed, “It’s right there.”
Daniels looked at the rucksack and back at Sawyer, “It’s in the backpack?”
Sawyer picked up the rucksack and tossed it to Daniels.
Daniels caught it with both arms and held it tight, “Are you crazy? What if it went off?”
Sawyer took the rucksack back from Daniels and opened the top, “Don’t worry, it’s not armed. You could drop this from an airplane, and it wouldn’t go off. That’s why we're here, after we arm it, we’ll attach the remote detonator.”
Daniels stepped over and looked inside of the pack with Sawyer, “That little thing is it? Is it even big enough to do anything?”
Sawyer closed up the top of the rucksack, “We call these, backpack bombs, and you’ve probably heard them referred to as suitcase nukes. It’s an MK-54 SADM.”
“Like Saddam, the guy from Iraq?” Daniels interrupted.
“No, the SADM, Special Atomic Demolition Munitions. They made a bunch of these things in the 1970s. The United State’s biggest problem with these now is making sure they don’t get stolen. So to answer your question, is it big enough? Well, its yield is about one kiloton.”
Daniels looked confused, “I’ve heard the term kiloton, but I’m not really sure how big that is.”
“As far as nuclear bombs go, this is just a baby, but keep in mind, New York City isn’t a huge place. This backpack bomb will produce an explosion that will level everything for over four tenths of a mile wide, and 200 meters up. It will start large-scale fires and let’s not forget, New York City runs on natural gas. The secondary explosions will be almost as big as the nukes. If the initial blast doesn’t get them all, the fires will and this place will burn for months. There’s no way they can escape in time.”
Daniels leaned back against the sawhorse, “I can’t believe this is happening. This is the beginning of the end, as we know it. God forgive us.”
Sawyer picked up the bomb and slung it on his back, “Well, you can ask for his forgiveness when we’re dead, and let's just hope that’s a long time from now. We’d better round up the troops and hit the bunks. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”
CHAPTER 45
The motel’s curtains weren’t enough to keep out the morning sun. I rolled over and pulled the pillow over my head, and I was face to face with Charger’s ass. I lay there falling back asleep until I heard her release a waft of air.
I moved away waving my hand in front of my nose, “Oh my God, you stink dog.”
I reached over and picked up my phone, looking at the time. I’d have to get a watch soon, who knew how long cell phones were going to work. Not far in the future, would come a day when their screens would go black for the last time. I prayed that wasn’t until after we found Dad.
The thought of Dad made me antsy to get up and get on the road. It was 5:45 am. Time to get everyone moving.
“Chevy, it’s time to get up. We need to get on the road soon.”
Chevy pulled the blankets over his head and turned his back to me, “Five more minutes and open the window it stinks in here.”
“That’s the dog,” I said, giving her a few pats on the hip.
“You ready to get up and go potty?” I asked.
Charger hopped off the bed and went to the door. I was slow to follow. I sat on the side of the bed and watched as she gave the motel door a couple of scratches with her paw.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming girl.”
I threw on a t-sh
irt and slid my bare feet into my shoes. I opened the door, and a cold October breeze sent shivers down my spine.
The wind made the dead fallen leaves dance in the parking lot. Charger chased after one, before finding a grass area to do her business.
Everything looked okay. The motel ended up being a good place to stop for the night. The cold breeze was beginning to be a little too much for me, so I called for Charger. She pranced around the parking lot looking like a sleek miniature gray horse. I called her again, and she sashayed in my direction.
Chevy was still in bed and started snoring, “It’s been five minutes. Let’s go, we need to find Dad today.”
Too tired to answer, he responded with a grunt.
It didn’t register at first when I heard the dog barking. I turned to look outside. Charger was near the back of the Humvee. Her jowls were raised, showing her teeth, as she growled at something behind the Humvee. I watched as she crept backward.
There was something wrong. I reached toward the motel table grabbing my Ronin sword. Chevy sensed there was something wrong, as he went for his tomahawk. We were out the door a second later.
Charger was trying to stand her ground, but was gradually giving up real estate.
“Charger, get back here!” I screamed.
Chevy and I made our way out to the back of the Humvee. At first, we didn’t see anything standing there. It wasn’t until we looked down at the grass. There was a dead man, without legs, dragging himself out from under the Humvee. Black blood and ooze trailed from the wooded area to the man’s stubs. I stood there baffled by the zombie. “What happened to him?” I asked.
“He’s all torn up. It looks like the animals got to him,” Chevy speculated.
I agreed, “Those injuries aren’t from a weapon. They look more like claw and teeth marks. He’s all kinds of fucked up. Put him out of his misery.”
Chevy wound up and sunk the tomahawk in the back of the man’s head. His face collapsed into the grass.
“What are we going to do with him?” Chevy asked.
“What do you mean? Why would we do anything with him?”
“We’re not going to leave him here for everyone to see are we?” Chevy asked.
I shrugged my shoulders, “What does it matter?”
Chevy thought about it for a second, “I just don’t want to gross out the girls. I mean you have to admit he looks pretty nasty. Look at his guts, hanging out the hole where his leg used to be. How does that even happen?”
“If you feel the need to move him, go ahead. I’m not touching the rotten corpse.”
Chevy bent over taking a handful of the man’s shirt and gave it a pull. He released the shirt almost immediately, “He’s heavy, and he stinks like sewage. Maybe I’ll leave him here.”
When we looked up, everybody was standing there watching us.
“Black bear.” Cowboy said.
“What?” I asked.
Cowboy pointed at the marks on the back of the man’s torso, “Bear claws.”
I hadn’t seen the claw marks on the man’s back before. Chevy must have exposed them, when he pulled up on the shirt.
Luther put his hand on his knees and bent over for a closer look. Without standing back up, he asked, “We know if these things bite you, you turn into one of them right?”
“Right,” I answered.
Luther glanced at the body and back at the group again, “So, do you think it’s possible that if you bit a zombie, you’d turn into a zombie?”
I was confused, “Why would I bite a zombie?”
“I’m not saying if you bite a zombie. I’m saying what if an animal, like that bear, bit this zombie?”
“Are you trying to say, there could be a 600-pound zombie bear running around here? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
Cowboy injected, “That’s almost as crazy as us saying we’re caught in the middle of a zombie apocalypse right now.”
I thought about it for a few seconds, as did everyone else in the group, “I think you’ve got a valid point there, Cowboy. Let’s pack up our shit and get the hell out of here. I’d rather not find out if there is such thing as a fricken zombear running around here, looking for lunch.”
I didn’t need to say anything else that was all the motivation everyone needed to get moving.
It took less than three minutes for everyone to split back into our groups and load into the Humvees. I don’t know if the zombear existed or not, but I will damn well guarantee, I’ll use him again when I need to get everyone moving in a hurry.
Once loaded, I pulled out to the main road and waited for Cowboy to pull up next to me.
He pulled up chomping on a blueberry Pop-Tart. “Breakfast of champions,” he said holding up the pastry.
Chevy held up a chocolate bar, “I think I got you beat on that one, Cowboy.”
I waited until Chevy was done bragging about his breakfast, “If you guys are done discussing breakfast options, I’d like to lay out the plan.”
“Whoa, someone’s not a morning person,” Sophie jibbed.
She was sitting in the front passenger seat of the Humvee, eating a cinnamon brown sugar Pop-Tart, one of my mom’s favorites.
“Sorry, Soph. I’m really excited to find my dad today. If we hop right on the highway, we should be there in about three hours. I’ll feel so much better when I know he’s okay.”
Sophie spoke as she held her hands outside the Hummer’s window, wiping the remaining crumbs away, “It’s all right, Two-gun. I’ll be happier when we get him too, for your mom’s sake.”
Cowboy bent forward in his seat to peak around Sophie, “You lead the way, hoss. We'll follow about a half a mile behind you, like we planned.”
I gave Cowboy a thumbs up while I checked my phone. No new messages. I opened the message app, and touched the letters, “Dad, we’re on our way. We’ll be there in about three hours. That’s 9:30 am. We’re heading for the George Washington Bridge. Stay safe. See you soon. Ty.
I looked back over at the second Humvee, “Okay, I just messaged my dad and told him we were on the way. Let’s get moving. Hey, look out, Zombear!” Everyone in their Humvee looked out the window in panic. We all laughed as I stepped on the accelerator.
We were on our way.
CHAPTER 46
After a night with his new love interest, Kane’s brother opened the door to the motel room. Kane was lying there, with an arm sticking straight up in the air, still stiff from the rigor mortis.
“Get up, brother. It’s a new day, and there’s murder in the air. Today we catch your friends and avenge you. Now get up, up, up.”
CHAPTER 47
Daniels opened his eyes and sat up on the edge of his bunk. Everybody was still asleep except for Sawyer. He was already up and had left the room. Daniels put on his boots and headed for the cafeteria. He’d do just about anything for a cup of coffee right now. It looked like it was going to be his lucky day. He stumbled across a restaurant coffee maker with instructions for the employees.
It looked pretty easy. Flip on the power. Add water. Place filter and coffee in the receptacle, and hit start.
A bottled water, a packet of coffee, and he was in business. He loaded up the filter with the coffee and hit start. He listened as the machine gurgled and hissed, brewing his sweet elixir.
The power had been on for hours now. He prayed it’d hold out a few more minutes until his coffee was done. Next to the coffeemaker there was a full rack of clean mugs and enough sugar and powdered creamer to last a lifetime. When the coffee finished, he filled a couple of cups and headed for the deck of the ship. It didn’t take long for Daniels to find Sawyer. He was right where he expected to find him. Sitting next to the SR-71 Blackbird watching the sun break the horizon. Next to him the bomb rested on the deck, the sight of it gave Daniels an uneasy feeling.
Daniels held one of the cups of coffee over Sawyer’s shoulder. He smelled the steamy aroma before he realized Daniels was standing behind him
, “How did you find me?” he asked.
“I thought I’d come up to the deck and watch the sunrise. Something tells me it might be my last. I saw the plane when we came aboard last night, and the way you talked about it, I knew it meant something special to you. So, I grabbed a second cup and took a chance.”
Sawyer took a sip of the coffee, and spoke without looking back at Daniels, “I always loved a good sunrise. I promise you, Mr. Daniels. I will do everything in my power to help get you and your friends off this island, before this bomb goes off. I’ve got a little girl I’d like to see again. Blowing myself up isn’t going to do them any good.”
Daniels took a sip of the hot coffee and sat down next to Sawyer, “I’ve got two boys and my wife. They’re the world to me. Yesterday morning, I texted them asking for help, before I knew we were going to light off that firecracker. As far as I know, they’re on the way to the city, or maybe even here already.”
The thought of Ty and Jen gave Daniels the urge to check his phone. Pulling it from his shirt pocket, he hit the button and watched as the screen lit up. There were no new messages. He slid the phone back into his pocket and fastened the button, “I still haven’t heard from them. I can’t stand the thought of setting that bomb off until we find them.”
Sawyer didn’t say anything, but rather reached into the side pocket of the pack and pulled out a silver electronic device with an attached fat black antenna. He handed it to Daniels, “That’s the remote detonator. The key word here is remote. Not timer. Once Beck and I install it, it doesn’t start a clock. It merely makes it possible for someone in Atlanta to detonate the bomb by using a GPS signal.”
“So what if the switch is already flipped on in Washington or Atlanta or where ever these guys in charge are? You and Beck connect the wires and we all go boom?”
“It won’t go off instantly, the bomb goes through charging cycles. While that’s happening a timer counts down.”
“So how long would that take, if the bomb was already flipped on?”