“It’s okay. I didn’t see if there was an explosion. Did you see anything?” She was standing a foot away, so he didn’t expect her to see anything different.
“They both went out of sight, but I didn’t see any smoke or fire. You think he made it out?”
“Dunno. However, we’ve lost sight of the incoming men. I think we should abandon this location and get somewhere we can re-establish visual contact. I want to see how many there are, where they’re going, and if Kyla is with them. If we stay here, they can walk right through those woods without us knowing a thing about them when they get here.”
“I won’t argue tactics with my general,” she joked.
“Major, ma’am,” he said in a formal tone. “My rank is major.”
“You bumped me up to president,” she said sarcastically, “So I’m bumping you up to general.”
He hastened toward the door but halted as if to think it over. “General MacInnis. I like it, but that’s one hell of a battlefield frocking. I don’t even think regulations will let me skip lieutenant colonel and full-bird colonel.”
She strode past him and opened the door. “I can’t have an army without a general. As long as you keep calling me president, I’m going to call you general. We can argue pay grades and deal with HR when we’re on that carrier.”
All he wanted was to get Kyla safe. Battlefield ranks meant squat when there were no men to lead. Even the pay bonus didn’t mean a thing when the entire economy of the United States was gone. Still, playing her game was a worthy distraction to balance out the hopelessness of being the only two people in the US military chain of command in America.
“I do as you order, Madame president,” he said as he followed her outside.
Chicago, IL
Tabby was filled with fear as she walked the dark tunnels looking for a way out. A great deal of it had to do with seeing Donovan get shot. The replay ran over and over in her memory and wouldn’t turn off. Could she have anticipated it? Should she have insisted on staying in front of the kids? Was she to blame for the result?
The water up to her knees didn’t help.
Peter spoke to Audrey, who was shivering again. “Hey, babe, I would never complain about how you dress, but you somehow seem to always end up cold, despite it being summer outside. If we get out of here, maybe we should find you some long pants?”
The teen girl forced herself to laugh. “I’ll be fine.” It sounded hollow to Tabby, though her guilt-ridden brain immediately attributed it to how much the girl probably blamed her for allowing Donovan to die. It also could have been because the girl wore super-short jean shorts and a spaghetti-strap top, leaving her long legs exposed to the cold water. Audrey finally added, “Tabby will get us out of here, just like she did down in those mines.”
Tabby perked up, glad to hear some words of encouragement. She stopped and turned around, keeping the light pointed down. “I’m so sorry about Donovan. I can’t even imagine how you two must feel.”
Peter and Audrey held hands, as they did almost all the time. They shared a look before Peter replied. “Don’t worry about it. There’s no way you could have done anything back there. Right now, all that matters is getting out of these tunnels.”
Audrey jumped in. “And when we get out of here, we’ll honor Donny like he deserves. He wouldn’t want us to endanger ourselves with a memorial until we’re all safe.”
Tabby wanted to break down in tears on the spot, but she bit her tongue to stop the waterworks. It was tough enough leading the kids away from danger, but it would be impossible if she let herself turn into an emotional dumpster fire. She bowed her head for a second, then spun in the water to walk some more. “This way.”
A few minutes later, she saw some light beaming from a grate above them. When they walked underneath, she found a ladder going up. “I’m going to check it out. You two stay here.”
She climbed up the gritty metal bars about ten feet to reach the crisscrossed metal lid. Tabby watched through the slats for a few seconds, but all she saw were clouds and smoke from the fires. After taking a deep breath, she slid her fingers through the slats, intending to lift the lid and peek out. However, as she got it about an inch off its ledge, a shape up top slammed it back down.
“Crackers!” she blurted, channeling her conversation with Audrey the day before about a never-to-be-uttered C-word.
A metal foot pressed on the grate, then stepped off.
Tabby froze as the mechanical horse trotted by; her only movement was to pull her fingers back down. However, she heard its gears whir as it turned around.
It found us, she thought, instantly thinking how she could escape.
There was nowhere to go. If she climbed down, she wouldn’t have time to make it. If she tried to get out, she would probably be chopped in half by a gun. The only thing she could do was freeze. As the machine arrived, she turned her face down, so at least it wouldn’t identify her.
The mechanical leg hit the grate, then tapped it a few times. She sensed it was inches from her face—a fact she could have seen for herself if she’d looked up.
Go away.
The horse-robot must have stood there for a full minute. Tabby’s arms burned from holding herself still on the ladder, but she was willing to die rather than relieve the pressure. The motors revved on the robot and it backed away from the grating. She sensed the light level increase as it cleared out.
“It’s gone,” Peter whispered from below. “Get out of there.”
She opened her eyes, checked above to ensure it was really gone, then scurried down the ladder. As soon as she touched the water, she got away from the access point, so if it came back again, it would have nothing to see down in the sewer. “Follow me.”
She walked for at least an hour. It was hard to say what direction they were going, but she did her best to go one way, rather than wandering in loops. She went straight at every intersection, hoping she was going anywhere but east. That would cause her to hit Lake Michigan.
When Tabby was satisfied they’d gone far enough, she found another grate and climbed to open it. She was almost positive there wouldn’t be anyone up above unless they guarded every entrance to the sewer system for miles around, which seemed impossible. When she lifted this grate, no one stepped on it.
“It’s a park,” she said quietly. “And I see bicycles. We’re taking them.”
Tabby climbed out next to a basketball court in a municipal park. A few aging apartment buildings flanked the woodland property, as well as some large trees, but there were no drones. “Come on up, guys. We’re getting out of the city.”
Audrey had climbed up after her, but as she reached to help her out, Peter screamed in pain below them.
“Not again!” she shouted.
CHAPTER 6
Montauk Lighthouse, NY
Kyla’s stomach played the part of a spinning roulette ball as the helicopter swooped down and reached the beach. “I’m going to be sick,” she said to herself.
For a short time, the lighthouse was visible about a mile away, but then a curtain of sand surrounded the aircraft as it touched down. Her tummy finally found its proper pocket when she jumped onto firm ground.
“I’m starting to hate helicopters,” she yelled to Meechum, who ran next to her as they both headed for the trees beyond the sand. The other woman didn’t acknowledge her, likely because it was far too loud to hear anything.
The helicopter powered up and lifted off while she was still on the run. More sand blew at her backside, but it quickly went away as the rotors gained altitude. Once she was in a safe spot, she looked back to watch the big military machine fly away. However, men began to yell at her to get down, which she did instantly.
The helicopter flew low to the water, but another aircraft was circling it a couple hundred feet above.
“It’s a Predator!” one of the Navy guys shouted.
Van Nuys stood closest to the beach, unafraid to be seen. It appeared as if he wanted to
see what was going to happen to his pilot. “The bastard has two Hellfires with the Seahawk’s name on it.”
A couple of seconds later, the drone launched one of its missiles. It came down at a steep angle due to the relative altitudes, but the pilot of the helicopter countered by swooping up and sideways. The missile flew in the ocean but didn’t send up a giant plume of water like she expected.
The helicopter sped off to the west around the curvature of the land, and the drone dropped in behind, but it was impossible to see what happened after that.
“Dammit all,” Van Nuys snapped. “If I had just one spare pilot, I could have a Super Hornet chewing up these Predators like a wolf through the sheep herd.”
“Why don’t you, sir?” Kyla asked with a voice far too timid for her liking. He was in charge of a super carrier, plus the other Marine ship, and he’d already sent planes into New York City, so why weren’t they overhead at that moment?
The captain turned to her with sad eyes. “The enemy has more than those drones. They’re landing all kinds of tech back in Newark. The few planes we have operational have to guard both the Iwo and the JFK.” He walked past her toward the forest. “Come on, let’s find your uncle.”
She peered out over the water, hoping the pilot made it to safety. She’d never been on a helicopter before yesterday, and already she’d taken three rides. She couldn’t imagine being a pilot, like Uncle Ted, and having to deal with the stress of flight every time they went up, much less avoiding missiles and whatever else was coming for them.
“You all right, dudette?” Meechum asked dryly from close by. Kyla glanced back, noticing how the captain had given her gun to the female Marine. She had it slung over her shoulder, while she kept the other one at the ready.
Kyla nodded, expecting her friend to hand over the weapon, but she only gestured for her to get moving. It was a behavioral oddity matched only by the surprise arrival of the captain to the shore party. Both were acting strange, it seemed, but it was probably because they were conducting the rescue of the President of the United States.
Kyla was the outsider.
Maybe it’s just me.
Montauk Lighthouse, NY
Ted chose to watch his target from a bushy clump of trees next to the parking lot. He and Emily crouched in the weeds under the leafy canopy, and the chiggers were murdering his ankles, but at least it was a shady place to watch the wide walkway back to the lighthouse. Shirts, pants, and little dresses were the only signs of people on the concrete path. Unless Kyla’s group climbed up the steep rocks next to the beach, there would be no way to get to the lighthouse without being seen.
“Well, this isn’t how I planned today,” Emily remarked as she slapped at a bug on her leg.
“Me either. When I finally co-piloted for the president, I assumed we’d have an actual plane.” He spoke with thick sarcasm to poke fun at her.
“I was often told it would all be glamor and champagne. Photo spreads. Fancy-pants dinners. How did we get our wires crossed so badly?” She’d responded in a thoughtful voice but ended with a chuckle. “But seriously, I’ve thought about this day—I mean being upgraded to the presidency, not sitting in the weeds—every night for the past three years. Is tomorrow the day I have to step into Tanager’s shoes? Can I do it? Am I ready?”
“Are you?” he asked in a more sympathetic voice.
She brushed hair out of her eyes, swatting a fly at the same time. “I’m not the first VP to face this crisis, you know. A number of veeps had to step in and take over the most important job in the world. Sometimes it was because of illness, or assassinations, or improprieties. During all of those crises, the rest of the world went on like normal. Looking back, it was almost silly how easy it was for those men. Here, today, facing the worst disaster of human history, I… Honestly, sometimes I feel like blending into the woods never to come out again.” She batted at another bug. “Not these woods, mind you. I’m talking about a forest with no bugs, lots of food, and maybe a comfortable bed.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. No such place existed, though spending time with her in the woods, frontier style, didn’t sound half-bad, all things considered. He’d taken courses in wilderness survival and would do all right on his own. At the same time, the humor was because they both knew retreat wasn’t their style.
“Emily, I know a little about how you feel. The joke earlier about me being a general makes me appreciate the challenges of taking over a rank I have no business taking. I think your nervousness comes because there are no rules to follow anymore. There isn’t an aide telling you how it goes, how to step into the dignity of the role. However, if my sister were around, she’d say we all just have to roll with it. Whatever life deals out, don’t hide under your covers and worry. Hit it head-on with your best shot.” He laughed a bit more. “Funny, because she was a hippy-dippy pacifist.”
“Oh, I’m not a quitter. I shouldn’t have said anything, but, what the hell, you’re the only friend I’ve got.” She smiled brightly at him, then slapped her wrist for another bug.
He glanced up to the lighthouse, then froze in place.
“Someone’s coming.”
Sacramento, California
Dwight found the motorcycle ride exhilarating. Being close to sober helped some of his normal memories percolate back to the surface. Riding his father’s hog back in high school was one of the few memories he didn’t mind having. The rest—from his time in the service in the wastes of the Middle East to his downward spiral kicked off when he got back—could be tossed onto the shoulder of the highway like so much trash.
Poppy soared high above. Her blue and green wings plied the skies like she was a soaring condor. He was happy to give her some room to fly, and he found himself seriously impressed by her ability to keep up with him. He drove the bike at over eighty miles-per-hour.
He followed Bernard not so much because he wanted to, but because the guy told him the bikes had trackers on them. As best he figured it, he had a good thing going with these strange people. Yeah, they had played a role the disappearances, but they seemed all right otherwise. They provided him food, water, and a motorbike to get around. It was more than anyone had ever given him on the streets.
After an hour of riding, Bernard waved him to an offramp at one of the many exits in the Central Valley of California. They played follow the leader as they went into a giant Valero gas station with a dozen lanes for pumps. Only one of them was operational, however, and a man in black overalls waved them in.
“Ahoy! Right this way.” The guy indicated Bernard needed to pull forward so Dwight could use the pump behind.
After kicking the stands to keep the bikes upright, they both hopped off. Bernard acted like he knew the guy and went right up to him and shook his hand. “We’re with the Folsom group. Fell a bit behind. How far back are we?”
The man eagerly shook hands in return. “Not far. They were through an hour or two ago. Hard to tell because it’s pretty boring guarding this place. I wish I was going out with you and doing the real work.” He glanced at Dwight, who smiled knowingly, though in his head he had no idea what the guy meant.
“Well,” the man continued as he walked to one of the pumps, “of course you don’t have to pay for anything. We’ve got you covered. Once you fill up, you’re free to go.”
Poppy landed on the roof of the nearby convenience shop, giving him an idea. “You got a restroom in there?”
The attendant nodded. “You bet. Nice and clean, like the boss requires.”
“Cleanliness in all things,” Bernard replied, along with the man. Things got silent for a moment, so Dwight looked over to the two men. They both stared at him like he’d crushed all their hopes and dreams.
“What?”
“Cleanliness in all things,” they repeated, like robots.
Poppy squawked, suggesting he repeat the message.
“Cleanliness in all things.” He shrugged. “Sorry, guys, it’s been a long couple of days.”<
br />
Bernard came to life as he spoke to the other man. “This guy had a flat tire earlier, and I think he got heatstroke while we fixed it, so he’s not in the right frame of mind.”
“And I’ve had the mad squirts since I ate at the buffet yesterday.” Before they said anything else, Dwight excused himself and beelined toward the restrooms. A tiny bell rang as he walked in the door, and for a few seconds, he returned to the normal life. The smells of the convenience store were a mix of fountain sodas, donuts, and cigarette smoke. He took a long drag, like the whole place was a cigarette.
He trotted to the back, like he really had to go to the bathroom, but he ducked down and shot over a couple of aisles to the liquor section. There, as if presented only for his enjoyment, was a full row of untouched beer, wine, as well as the good stuff.
“Oh-ho! Santa has come early this year!” He quietly mimicked the jolly elf’s laugh and grabbed for a particularly large bottle of rum on the bottom shelf. When he stood back up, Bernard was at the end of the aisle.
“Hey, man, I thought you were heading for the bathroom.” Bernard got quieter. “If they catch you with booze, you’ll be shot.”
Dwight was frozen in place, unable to process the simple words spoken by the other man. He’d shoplifted a time or two, and the worst that ever happened to him was he had to put it back. No one ever called the police on a rundown-looking man like him. But to be told he’d be shot for indulging in his one true hobby…
“I, uh, thought this would be good for cleaning the grease off my bike. I, uh, noticed it was dirty after they did some maintenance yesterday.” It was a miracle he could come up with an answer that fit the situation, but he had used alcohol to clean engine parts before. Sometimes, his team got desperate over in the sandbox.
Dwight slowly put the bottle back, like it would blow up.
“Cleanliness in everything, Dwight. Remember that. We’re starting America from scratch. None of the alcohol, drugs, or chemicals they pumped into their foods. It’s all pure, from here on out.”
Minus America Box Set | Books 1-5 Page 48