The Apocalypse Fugitives

by Peter Meredith

  This did the trick. She slumped and allowed the chains to be taken off. Immediately she began cursing at the River King, but Neil stopped her with a word. "Sarah."

  "What about her!" Sadie shouted.

  "Sarah taught you how to be a lady," Neil told her. At this she wanted to turn her anger on Neil, but he gave her a warning look. When she bit back the choice words she was about to spit out, Neil gave the River King a look. "I want to talk to her in private. Don't worry, we aren't going to conspire to escape."

  The River King smirked. "I'm not worried about that. You've seen the double fence. That inner one is electrified at night and during the day every inch of it is under surveillance."

  "Then leaving the room won't be a problem," Neil said with a gesture to the door.

  The second they were out of the room, Sadie flung her arms around Neil and apologized over and over. "I should never have trusted him. I thought he loved me. I thought…he paid all that money for me. I thought it would mean something."

  "Don't blame yourself, blame him."

  "Ooo, I do," she said. She began to pace, stretching out her slim legs. "I blame him for everything and I'm so pissed I could spit."

  "Well don't spit," Neil advised. "And don't curse and don't be a pain in the butt."

  "What? Are you on crack? Did you see what happened to Captain Grey? He never came up, Neil! They had binoculars. They were watching all the way down the river. He never came up." She began crying and her heavy mascara began to run down her face as though she was crying ink.

  "I saw," Neil said, searching unsuccessfully for an emotion. "Grey took chances; it was his way."

  "His way?" she snarled. "It wasn't his way, it was my father's way. We were betrayed, stabbed in the back, and yet you want me to be a good little girl? Fuck that!"

  "He's planning on shipping you back to New York, back to Yuri if you can't control yourself. We both know what that means." Sadie stood, stunned with her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. Neil was glad at least this had gotten through to her. "So yes, I want you to be the good little girl. Show your anger at first, but gradually hide it. Store up good will. Squirrel away anything useful and when the time is right, escape. Take Eve and make a run for Colorado."

  "And what about you?"

  He shrugged, feeling completely indifferent to his fate. "I don't think you should worry about me anymore. Maybe I'll get lucky. I have so far." The images of Ram as a zombie, Sarah's burnt and battered body, and Grey being swarmed, flashed across his mind. He shook them away. "I'll meet you in Colorado."

  Sadie wasn't fooled. "You've given up, haven't you? Sarah died and you just stopped caring. That's how come you were able to send Jillybean off alone to rescue Captain Grey and how you were able to leave Eve hanging in a tree!"

  "They were the right decisions. It shouldn't matter how I arrived at them."

  "Right or wrong, they were decisions made by a cold blooded man."

  The old Neil would've taken offense at that. This Neil deflected the statement. "We aren't supposed to be talking about me right now."

  "Too bad," Sadie snapped. "You've already told me how to act and I'll do it because of Eve, so that leaves us however long we have to deal with you. You're giving up and I want to know why."

  Neil's chin drooped and he began tracing patterns in the tile with his eyes. "I'm broken inside," he said after a time. "When Sarah…when she…my heart just stopped working. It beat of course but, I don't feel anything. Nothing. I look at you and I only see the girl I helped raise. I pick up Eve and I see a beautiful baby, but I don't feel the desire to kiss her or make her laugh. I see Jillybean and all I do is use her for what her mind can do."

  "You're not broken, you're heartbroken," Sadie concluded. "We all are. Sarah was a wonderful, sweet, beautiful woman."

  "Yeah," Neil said, venting the fullness of his emotions.

  She squinted up into his face, searching. "It'll pass Neil. You just have to give it time."

  "I don't have time," he said as plainly as he could. "The one thing I'm sure of is that your dad hates me simply because you love me so much. I think that is half the reason why he did what he did. He won't let me live…and that's why it's best if you forget about me and start worrying about what's happening to you."

  "I have to worry about you, because you are my real dad." She hugged him, snuggling her cheek up to his chest and wept. Neil held her, wishing a tear would come.

  The River King came in some minutes later. "I think that's enough."

  "And I think you're a dick," Sadie answered back. She gave Neil's hand two squeezes to show that she was still in control of her emotions.

  "Is she ok?" the River King asked Neil.

  "Yeah, she understands but she's still pissed."

  "Then I guess you reached the extent of your usefulness," the River King said with a smile that would make a snake blush. His squad of bruisers advanced on the little man, but stopped when Sadie gave him a last hug.

  "I love you, Neil."

  "Love you."

  She kissed his cheek and then grimaced. "You need to shave." After a last smile, she turned her hard gaze on the four advancing men. "Any of you hurt him and I'll chop your dicks off. See if I don't."

  They scoffed at this threat and proceeded to truss Neil's hands up. He was then led out of the room without a chance to look back at his daughter. "So where to?" Neil asked them. "Do you have a pit lined with lye? Or do I have to dig it myself?"

  One of the brutes clapped Neil on the back, with the intention to jar the air out of him and succeeding. "You know, you seem like a douche. Why don't you do yourself a favor and shut up before I endanger my dick by beating the crap out of you?"

  "Whatever," Neil said. The group went to the L shaped building. It was dim inside, lit only by a few candles and the falling evening light. It stank. There was an underlying scent of sweat slipping beneath an overpowering stench of outhouse.

  A desk sat just inside the lobby and behind it was a tall black man, he was rangy with stringy arms. "Neil Martin?" One of the River King's goons nodded. The black man pushed a clipboard toward him. "Sign on the dotted line."

  "Seems rather formal for such a two-bit operation," Neil said, as the River King's men left.

  "Someone has to be responsible for each prisoner when they're not in their cells," the man replied unfolding himself to tower over Neil.

  "Prisoner is an odd word," Neil said. "I'm not legally a prisoner since I haven't broken any laws. Nor am I a prisoner of war. I think slave is a better word. What do you think? You like the word slave?"

  The black eyes grew hard. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that. I'm going to pretend we are talking semantics. You now reside in a prison; it makes you a prisoner. And I am what's called a prison guard. You can call me Mister Dixon."

  "Ok…is there any real need to call you anything? I can't imagine I'll be staying all that long."

  "No, you won't be. A convoy is due back from New York in a couple of days. You and your group will be on the outbound trip. But in the meantime I was told to keep an extra close eye on you and the girl."

  "Jillybean?"

  "Yes," Dixon replied. "From everything we've heard she's some sort of genius. That's impressive sounding however all the smarts in the world doesn't mean much against inch thick bars and steel doors."

  Neil glanced around, seeing neither.

  "Prisoners are kept on the third floor. Before we go I need you to strip." Neil thought of a hundred things to say but bit them all back. Dixon seemed particularly humorless. Once he was down to his underwear, they walked to the nearest stairs and went up side by side, Dixon completely at his ease. "On the top level there's only one door in or out and if you think it stinks down here, just wait until you get up there. It's rancid."

  "If it's that bad you start to get diseases," Neil said. "Bad for the bottom line."

  "That's New York's problem. We really don't keep you guys around long enough to find out. Excep
t if you're a good fighter then you get nicer digs. You a good fighter, Neil?"

  "Not especially." Not at all was closer to the truth.

  The two reached the top floor at the spot where the two wings of the "L" met. The short wing had an open hall running down its center from which doors sprouted a dozen per side. Dixon turned away from it and addressed another guard who was lounging behind the kind of desk an elementary school teacher might use.

  "Hey Al, where's Hannigan?" Dixon asked, signing Neil onto the floor.

  "The shitter," Al answered, staring at Neil. "This one of the special ones? Really? You know I just don't get that order. Neither one of them looks at all dangerous to me. Does he know karate or something?"

  Dixon shook his head. "Not unless he's the softest karate-man in existence. But orders are orders. Take him in, I'll watch the desk."

  AL heaved himself up with a weary sigh and unlocked the heavy steel door that led to the prisoner wing and walked Neil through. Dixon was right, the smell was intense.

  "Holy cow that's bad," Neil said, screwing up his face.

  "Yeah it's all the buckets you guys crap in," Al said. "No one likes to empty them when the cages are full." The guard had begun sweating the instant the doors had opened. He wanted out of there as much as Neil did.

  The prisoners were kept in specially built cages; the first ones weren't very crowded, holding only two men per cage. Judging by their contusions and new scars, these were the men who fought in the arena. The next cages down the line were jammed with six people though the cages were designed to fit only four. Neil recognized the sneering faces of the people who had voted him into power only the day before.

  "This is your, damned fault," Joslyn hissed as soon as Al had shoved him in a cell with John and Cody gates and two of the women from The Island.

  "Yeah, I guess so," Neil admitted and then ignored her as she began to grow irate. His mind was on escape and knew there was only one person who could accomplish it. He stared through the bars, searching. "Where's Jillybean?"

  From the cage cattycorner to his, the little girl piped up, "I'm right here. How's Sadie?"

  "Very angry, but I convinced the River King to let her take Eve. I wanted her to take you too, but he wouldn't allow it. The king thinks you're dangerous. He also thinks you might escape. You have any ideas in that category?"

  "Ipes says I shouldn't try. He says it's way too dangerous. He thinks that if I'm real good I'll get early release. That's what means they let me go before people who try to escape."

  "Tell him I'm ordering him to help you," Neil said.

  In the cage next to his Fred Trigg suddenly jumped up. "Who are you to be giving anyone orders? You have proved to be the worst possible leader imaginable!"

  "At least I'm doing something," Neil shot back. "What have you done so far besides bitch?"

  "You call winding up your trained monkey actually doing some…"

  Neil stopped Fred in midsentence by leaping at the bars. Fred tried to jump back but he was too slow and Neil yanked him right up against the steel, mashing his nose to the side. "You will not talk about her like that!" Neil growled. "Or so help me…"

  "Ok…Ok. I won't, it was a slip. Ok?"

  With a final jerk Neil released Trigg, who backed away, touching his face where parallel lines of red ran up and down. The prison had gone quiet as everyone stared, most in accusation. Neil couldn't have cared less. "Jillybean," he called. "Wait until nightfall before you try anything."

  "But I don't know what to try, Mister Neil."

  "I'm sure you'll think of something."

  Neil went to one of the bunks, laid upon it with his face to the ceiling and promptly fell asleep like a veteran—like Grey would have. He slept for a few hours and all around him the prison grew quiet and sleepy and very dark with the setting of the sun. Sometime before nine a finger tapping his forehead woke him.

  "Mister Neil?" Jillybean asked, tapping him some more until he rolled over and stared in confusion. The little girl was sitting cross-legged just on the other side of the bars—somehow she had escaped her cell! "I have a plan, only it isn't a very good one," she whispered.

  "It looks like a start," he said with a grin.

  Chapter 28

  Jillybean

  Cape Girardeau, Missouri

  Her plan involved getting caught in the middle of "escaping" and this was the reason she was sitting patiently waiting for the guard to come through and do his hourly checks. In her mind it was an ill-formed plan to say the least.

  Step one of her plan was to get out of her cell and that had been accomplished with very little effort and a great deal of squeezing. The person who'd designed the cells for the River King had never counted on them being used to hold children. Jillybean, being skinny even for a child had simply pushed her way through the bars.

  She was through and that was all well and good, however the other fugitives would never be able to get past in the same manner, not even Joseph who was big for his age.

  The bars of the cells went from floor to ceiling and were well set; she tested everyone, finding they would not budge. And the locks were modern and sturdily mounted, and even if she knew the first thing about picking locks she had nothing to pick them with as her backpack had been confiscated.

  Step 2 of her terrible plan involved getting past the heavy steel door at the end of the hall. She studied the thing from every conceivable angle only to discover that with the tools on hand: her fingers and Ipes' useless, running mouth, there was no getting it open, at least not in a manner that would help Neil and the others. The only ways to get it open was to knock on it or wait for an outside force, i.e. the guards, to act upon it.

  Ipes advised against knocking. They'll think you're cute and won't take you seriously. They need to fear you.

  Jillybean didn't know what to think about that. Still, without a better idea she tried to act serious. This entailed nothing more than forcing her brows down as if she were about to scold Ipes.

  Step 3 was getting out of the building, something she felt she could manage; on the way in she had noted how poorly guarded the rest of the place was. And Step 4 was escaping the campus which she figured would be even easier than step 3.

  "But I don't know how I can get the rest of you guys out," she whispered to Neil. "If I could find a gun I could maybe point it at the guards and make them do what I want…"

  "No," Neil said, cutting her short. "You will not do anything dangerous."

  Just sitting here is dangerous, Ipes said. Tell him that.

  She ignored the zebra. "Maybe I could steal their keys. Then you guys could jump out and overpower them."

  Neil steepled his fingers beneath his chin and closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them he said, "No. I want you to figure a way out of this building and then off this base. You should try to make it to Colorado."

  Their conversation was not exactly private and what Neil had suggested caused a whispering to spring up. Fred Trigg in the other cell pretty much spoke for the collective whispering. "Are you crazy? Make her try for the keys."

  "No," Neil replied calmly.

  Trigg was appalled. "You are the biggest mistake we ever made. All you care about is your little group. You'll let the rest of us die in order to save one little girl."

  "Yes."

  "Should I at least try for the keys," Jillybean asked. "They have them on their belts on a latchy thing. Maybe I could…"

  "No."

  "You aren't giving us a chance," Marybeth Gates said without pretence to being quiet. A number of people tried to shush her, but she ignored them. "I've tried to be patient with you, Neil. I've tried to see why you acted the way you have, but this…this is murder. My murder."

  "It's not murder. It's called calculating the odds. With her brains, Jillybean has a better than fifty-fifty shot to escape on her own. What would you put her odds at for stealing the keys off the belt of an alert guard without either him or the second guard noticing? I'd
put her chances at one in a thousand. That means out of those thousand attempts she will die nine hundred and ninety nine times, compared to a one in two shot to get away on her own. "

  "I'd say you're being generous," Michael Gates said. "The guards carry like twenty keys on their rings. They're heavy and loud. I'd say she has no chance of stealing them."

  "Still!" Fred Trigg demanded. "These are lives we are talking about. Lots of them."

  "You are being selfish," Neil told him point blank. "She's the only one who can make it out. You need to accept that; you need to let her live."

  This quieted the hissing whispers and a silence settled over them. In it Ipes said, I always like that Mister Neil. He's smart.

  "You don't be selfish either," Jillybean said under her breath. Aloud she stated, "If I see a way to help all you guys, I will."

  Just then they could hear the rattle of keys in the door. Jillybean's heart began to race and Neil's jaw muscles worked; they had no idea what the guard would do when they saw her outside the cages.

  Their anxiety was for nothing. The guard laughed incredulously. Neil sighed with relief.

  "What are you doing?" Al demanded. Before she could answer he then asked another question. "How'd you get out?"

  "I was planning an escape," Jillybean said as innocently as she could. "And I got out because those bars are wide. That's what means I can squeeze through them if I want to."

  "Shit," Al said.

  "That's a bad word," Jillybean informed him.

  "It sure is," Al muttered. He was clearly perplexed by the novelty of a prison that couldn't hold a prisoner. He decided to bring in the other guard to reinforce his limited wits.

  Hannigan wasn't much help and the two batted around ideas for some time before Al said, "Let's lock her in the cleaning closet."

  "You actually have an entire closet dedicated to cleaning?" Neil asked. "Has it ever been opened? I'm just saying this place smells like an open sewer."

  "Shut up," Al said, and then looked down in surprise. Jillybean had reached up to hold his hand. Neil stifled a smile behind his hand.