by HJ Lawson
“Okay, so this is the plan,” I continue. “You are all going to run across the street without being seen, then through the lawn to the other street. Start making your way up toward the soldiers on that road. I’m going to walk up this street toward them as a distraction. Once I get to them and have their attention, Gérard and the other shooters will take them out quickly and quietly. Any questions?”
All the men are standing silent… some even look like their mouths are open, as if they have never heard a female speak before.
“Jada…” Ali growls.
“What?”
“That is a crazy plan!”
“Do you have a better one? Does anyone have a better plan?” I grit my teeth together as I ask. The room stays silent.
I put my hands on my hips and give a smug smirk. “I didn’t think so...”
Chapter 39
Our Sanctuary.
ANNABEL
I don’t look back, only forward.
The chaos and gunfire echo through the tunnels as I run with Brandon’s arm around me. It's hard to move fast. He’s trying, but he’s clearly injured; they really went to work on him. Plus, he was already hurt because of the beating he got from Troy this morning.
I keep forcing him forward, as I try to remember the route Louis told me. I feel like I have been down here for a lifetime, but it's only been a few hours. My eyes have already adjusted to the darkness.
We continue running through the tunnels. The sounds of chaos have been replaced with silence, with the exception of the sounds of dripping water and the rats running in it.
…And the sound of footsteps. I know we are being followed. They will be here soon.
“Brandon, we’re nearly there.” I try to reassure him that we are near the finishing line. I’m exhausted after running the whole length of the underground world, holding Brandon up. Please God, let us survive once we get up there.
“Annabel… are you sure it's safe?” he mumbles, breathless.
“We will find out soon enough; we are here.” My voice cracks with fear, terrified of what awaits us, and knowing what is behind us.
“Wait here,” I tell Brandon, as I prop him up against a wall.
He grabs hold of me before I can move, and hugs me tightly. “Annabel, thank you.” He pushes his lips firmly against mine. Sadness and joy wash over me at the same time. Will we survive up there?
Tears begin to roll down my face; I taste the salty teardrops on my lips.
Brandon pulls his lips away from mine; he’s crying as well… I wipe his tears off his face. He does the same to me, stopping and holding my chin.
“We can do it,” he says, and he takes a deep breath, as though he’s trying to convince himself.
“I hope so.” I press my lips onto his for one last kiss, as the sound of the footsteps gets louder. They are nearly here.
“Wait here,” I repeat. This time he does as requested. I cannot bear to be down here anymore with the fear of what is hiding in the dark for us.
I push down on the door handle, pulling it back and forth. It doesn’t open. I knew it wouldn’t.
“Stand back,” I say firmly, as I pull my gun up toward the door. Bang, bang. I fire two shots at the door handle. We have to be quick or they will reach us.
“What the hell?” Brandon blurts out. “Where did you get that?”
“Louis,” I say proudly. Then my thoughts drift off to him… I hope he’s okay.
“You ready?” I ask Brandon.
I can see Brandon’s hand reach out for mine, and I take it.
“I’m ready.”
We push open the door together, not knowing if the fresh air will kill us. We breathe in, and look at one another, with our eyes wide with fear. Then we smile.
“Not dead yet?” Brandon jokes.
I cannot help but wonder how quickly it will be before we get sick…
Looking around, I see that the doors lead into an alley in the city. It looks like any normal evening. I wish that was the case.
“Now what?” Brandon asks.
Oh, Jesus. I hadn't thought about what we would do next. I wasn’t thinking that far in advance.
“I think we need to get indoors—to hide away from the radiation. Well, that's what I think you're meant to do. What do you think?” I say.
“Where shall we go?”
Good question… it's not like we can go home to our loving parents. “Homeless shelter,” I suggest.
“Yeah, that's the best idea. It isn’t like we have anywhere else to go,” Brandon agrees.
“We’ve got to hurry. I can hear them behind us. I know Big Red will not let me live,” my voice quivers.
Fear washes over Brandon’s face at the thought of them catching him once again. He’s already taken two beatings today. I don’t think he’ll survive another.
He takes my hand. “Let's get out of here.”
Even though we are in a hurry, we hesitate; this alley is our sanctuary between the underworld and the radiation that waits for us. Our very own no-man’s land.
We take another deep breath in. The air smells the same—a mixture of car fuel and sewage.
Oh… the sewage smell is me and Brandon. I feel dirty. I want to shower when we get to the shelter, to wash this rotten stench off me. A fresh start.
Brandon smiles over at me. We quickly walk out of the sanctuary of our alley, and it strikes me that no one is walking around. Normally at this time the city is very busy.
But there's no one on the streets… they are totally deserted. Well, almost…
“Weeeonnggweeeonngg!” the police siren breaks the eerie silence. The sound doesn't come any closer.
I look toward the direction of the siren, and I can see why not. All the cars are jamming the road—it’s turned into a big parking lot. Car doors are wide open, as though the people quickly abandoned their vehicles.
As I look down 5th Avenue—one of the busiest streets in New York City—I can see raging flames roaring in the sky. It's so thick, it's hard to tell where it is coming from.
Black smoke bellows in the sky, circling over New York City.
“Do you think that's it?” I ask, as I point up to the mushroom cloud.
Brandon takes a big breath in. He doesn't need to say anything. We both know it is.
“Let's get as far away from that as possible,” he says, and I agree.
“Can you run some more?” I ask him.
“I can do anything for you,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes. My Brandon is back.
Chapter 40
Masked Child.
JADA
“Be careful,” Gérard says, as he kisses me on the top of my head.
“You too,” I reply. “Look after Ali.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Ali says, as he gives me a big hug.
With that, the men begin to leave the house. They dart across the road to the lawn area, and then disappear.
“You can come with us,” a female voice says. It's the homeowner.
“Thank you. I want to be with my family,” I say proudly. “Get up to the trucks. Wait for us there. Stay out of sight.”
With my gun secure in the back of my pants, and with my backpack on my shoulders, I am ready.
I glance up and down the brightly-lit street. No one else is outside; it's as though everyone has left.
A fluttering of curtains catches my eye… people are watching me. I peer over to the window, and a face stares back at me; it's not a soldier, it’s another homeowner. Looking over at the other houses, I can see others staring at me in confusion.
Now is not the time for second guessing myself.
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs up with oxygen. That’s when it hits me—I have to move quickly. I shouldn’t be worried about the soldiers; it's the poison in the air that I should be scared of.
With that my body and mind connect together. Game time.
I head toward the exit road. I can make out the guards; they haven't see
n me yet. I speed up my pace, as I walk in the beams from the street lights.
My palms sweat and I quickly wipe them on my jeans. These have to be the worst soldiers ever… they are just leaning up against the fence, completely unaware that I’m approaching them. I wasn't prepared for that.
Here it goes… “Excuse me,” I whisper.
No response.
“Excuse me,” I say a little louder.
This time they spring around in a panic, guns at the ready. Looks like I scared them.
“Whoo, whoo, easy,” I say as I raise my hands.
“Get back to your house,” one of the soldiers orders. Through his gas mask, I can hear a faint Russian accent.
“Sorry. What?” I shrug my shoulders, as I place my hand to my ear.
Another one lifts his mask up. “You need to go back home.”
“Bored in there,” I say in my best girly voice, as I tilt my head toward them.
“Kid, get back home,” the first soldier says.
“That’s a nice accent; where are you from?” I ask. The soldier’s face instantly softens, but I don’t trust them for one moment.
“Russian. He’s from Ukraine,” one of them says proudly.
“Cool. So what’s going on?” I step closer to them; their backs are toward the direction Gérard and the others will be coming from. Perfect.
“Kid, get back in your house!” the other soldier snaps.
“Geez… is he always this bossy?” I ask the first soldier, smiling. From the corner of my eye I can see movement in the shadows—it's Gérard and the others.
“Take her home,” the soldier orders.
Damn, I need them both here.
“So, is he like your boss?” I question.
“No.”
“Then why is he giving you orders?”
“Yeah, why you giving me orders?” the younger soldier snaps. I can see the others now… they are waiting in the shadows. Gérard is moving closer.
“Jesus, do you ever listen? How the hell did you manage to get through training?” the older soldier asks. Gérard is standing by the wall the guards were leaning against just a few minutes earlier.
The younger soldier just stares at him. “Same way as you, jerk,” he says, shaking his head, as though it was a subject never to be spoken about.
“I will take her,” the younger soldier reaches out for my arm. This is the signal Gérard needs.
Quickly I move out of the way so the soldier cannot take me, while at the same time moving my hand to my back and reaching for my gun.
Suddenly the older soldier’s face changes. His mouth drops at the edges like he is frowning. But I know he’s not frowning… he’s dying.
His body falls forward, landing at our feet.
Before the younger soldier can react, I place my gun to his head with my finger on the trigger.
Gérard and the others come out of the shadows. The soldier drops his gun to the ground and raises his arms in surrender.
“Lower your hands,” I tell him. We don't want any more soldiers over here. “Now!”
“Good work,” Gérard says. He reaches over and grabs the soldier by his arm, dragging him toward the boundary wall.
“We are going to need your uniform.”
Chapter 41
Running For Our Lives.
ANNABEL
As we move through the New York City streets, we see people crying out in pain and fear. But we can’t stop to help them, or we will be the next victims. Selfishly, we block them out.
Brandon can’t run anymore, so we shift into a slow jog. I look around, taking in the full nightmare of what has happened today.
Store windows are shattered into thousands of pieces, and bodies lie on the ground. They are dead, and the streetlights shine down on their corpses as though they are the main act in a Broadway show. Please, Lord, let the show be over… let the killing of innocent people stop.
We have to move… I know the prisoners are behind us. Each time we move down an abandoned street to try to lose them, I see them following us... Big Red is with them. He’s unable to keep up with the others' pace. Two larger men are with him, and they look as though they could rip me in two. Just the thought sends a shudder of fear through my body, like an electric shock.
The gap between them and us is closing. We need to move faster.
“Brandon, over here… we need to rest.” I point over to a dumpster, and he doesn’t even question me. He just heads over and hides, exhausted from the day and from the images we have seen as we have been running.
I look around and see an abandoned car. This is perfect—a small city car that I can drive on the sidewalks. I smile at my find. It’s not like there are any police here to stop us.
The car door is already open for me, and I dive onto the seat and reach down for the wires. I pull them and go to work, using a trick I learned from an old boyfriend. I swipe them together, but nothing happens… it's as though the engine is blown.
Damn it! Now I know why everyone left their cars—the bomb must’ve shorted the electrical circuits in the cars. Jesus, Annabel, how could I be so stupid? Why didn’t I think of that? I’m wasting time.
“Brandon, we’ve got to go,” I order. “Now!” I yell, when he doesn’t move fast enough.
Brandon leans his head back and looks up at the sky as though he’s praying to God for help. Then he starts running toward the shelter. I hurry to catch up to him.
“We are nearly there,” he says.
I can feel them behind me. As I glance over my shoulder, I see my worst fears were right. Big Red has stopped running, and his hands are on his knees as he gasps for air.
But the two angry prisoners at his side don’t stop; instead they run faster toward us.
“They are coming!” I cry out.
Brandon looks at them, then back to me—his eyes wide.
“This is our city… we know this place better than they do. We have to go through the buildings to get away!” I pant desperately.
“Yeah. We need to lose them before we can get to the shelter,” Brandon agrees.
“Let’s do this.”
I can see the shelter, but we can’t go straight—we have to go through the alleys and buildings.
We continue to run for our lives. “Here,” Brandon says, as he pulls down a creaking, old, metal fire ladder from the side of a building.
I scramble up, and Brandon follows and pulls the ladder up behind us, so as not to give the prisoners a clue of where we are hiding.
Quickly I push open a glass window and dive into a room for cover. Brandon comes in after me.
An Asian family is staring at us in shock, as we stand in their living room. I raise my finger up to my mouth indicating for them to be quiet.
Thankfully they follow my request.
We freeze for a moment and listen… they haven’t followed us; we would’ve heard the ladder if they had.
Brandon and I head toward the front door, sliding the metal lock to one side, and then I pull on the handle. But it doesn’t move. What is it with these bloody doors?
“The blanket,” says a young boy behind us.
I glance down and see they have a blanket pushed up against the door. I look at it for a moment, confused. Then it clicks—it's for the radiation.
“Who told you to do that?” I ask the family.
“Man in suit,” the young boy chirps up. His mother lifts him up onto her lap.
“The Vice President,” the father adds.
“What else did he say?” I ask.
“To stay indoors, and help will come,” he replies.
“When?”
The father looks down at his feet. “They didn’t say.”
I kick the blankets away from the door, and push the handle once more. It opens, thank God.
As quickly and quietly as we can, Brandon and I run down the flight of stairs. I bob my head around the main door. It's clear… a few more steps and we have made it.
&nb
sp; Chapter 42
Reunited or Rejected.
ETHAN
I turn my headlights off; this is it—the first location on the map.
Is my father going to be there? The engine hums and dies as I turn the key. Time to find out.
With my hands in the air, I walk down the black road toward the well-lit town.
Who goes there?” a voice yells from the checkout point, which is becoming clearer the closer I get. I don’t stop walking.
“A friend,” I yell out.
Several soldiers turn their guns toward me with the gas masks over their faces.
“Stop,” a guard tells me as I get closer. I do as requested, still with my hands up.
“I’m here to see Kagan Abulafia,” I say.
One of them looks me up and down. “Who are you?” he asks sternly.
“His son.”
“Take him to Junayd,” the solider turns and yells.
Chapter 43
Dress Up.
JADA
The soldier quickly undresses. “Jada, put these on,” Gérard orders, as he strips the dead soldier. I take the clothes and shoes into the tiny gate house—I guess this is where the community guard would spend his day. There is a microwave, a TV, and a bathroom, plus a window facing out to the road. I step into the bathroom and lock the door before changing into his clothes.
By rolling his pants over several times, I can make them almost fit me. I zip the black jacket over my layers of body armor and clothing, hiding my breasts.
I glance into the chipped mirror… I look like one of them from the neck down. Only my long hair gives away the fact that I’m a girl. Quickly I look around the bathroom and spy an old black baseball cap. Perfect.
I quickly tie my hair up into a bun and place the hat on my head. Then I take one last look in the mirror… I am no longer the girl I used to be—they no longer scare me. With my gas mask on they will not be able to tell the truth.
Stepping out of the gate house I spot Gérard, also dressed as a soldier. “What’s the plan?” I ask.