“I’ll be taking the day off,” he said in a fog.
The gate to his room was flung open. A pair of guards shoved in and grabbed him. “Get your ass moving!”
His arms caught fire where the men roughed his skin. The boils and sores were back, worse than the day before. He tried to walk, but his legs gave out. This made the men furious, and he vaguely remembered being called names and repeatedly kicked, but somewhere along the way, he passed out.
When he came to, he was back at the white box. A short line of men stood in front of him, leading him to again ask the most important question: “Poppy? Where are you?”
A bird squawked from somewhere close, but he couldn’t see her.
“I hear you, Poppy.”
He realized he’d gone blind in one eye. The remaining eye was foggy, as if condensation had built up on the inside of his retina.
David stood on his pedestal in the main room, watching the stage. A phalanx of armed guards stood between him and the prisoners. When the nearest guard had Dwight on his feet, the man waved to his boss.
“The enemy has finally counter-attacked,” David said, swishing his long white hair aside, “though they’ve walked into my trap as I knew they would. You Americans and your haughty attitudes and dependence on technology. It was too easy to lead your forces to the wrong bunker.”
“What’s he talking about, Poppy?” he said to his friend, forgetting she wasn’t with him.
The man in gold continued. “I’m sorry our time has come to an end. I can’t spare the manpower to babysit a bunch of prisoners. The next phase of our invasion has been bumped up. I’ve got to leave this place to make it happen.”
David motioned to an assistant, who pushed the first prisoner into the cube. Before anything happened, the leader came down from his perch and walked to the back of the room as if unwilling to watch what came next. The bulk of his guards followed him through the rear door.
“That was weird,” a woman said from behind him.
“He doesn’t like violence,” Dwight replied, mocking David’s insane claim from the previous day. He did his best to turn around without hurting himself. “You!” he said with surprise.
“Hi,” she replied, not pleased at all to see him. The white light beamed from the cube, lighting up the girl’s face like a camera’s flash.
“I found my bird,” he said proudly. “I hear her in the room, but my eyes…my eyes aren’t what they used to be. Can you help—”
Before he could finish the question, the girl pointed ahead. “That man didn’t come out of the box. They put him inside—I saw him go in—but he didn’t come out. What the hell is this?” She turned to some big oaf standing behind her.
Dwight didn’t see anyone in the box, but he couldn’t see much at all.
After a short wait, the line moved forward. Curious about what the woman had said, he tried to focus his good eye on the next prisoner. Another man, Jacob perhaps, was shoved inside, screaming at the top of his lungs until the door shut. He continued yelling and banging on the walls, but the device was soundproof.
Sure as snot, the light flashed on and off, leaving the box empty.
“Wait a second,” he said with growing concern. “Where’d he go?” He keeled over from the pain in his throat. It hurt to speak.
One of the remaining guards laughed. “You lot have an expenses-paid vacation coming at you. You’ll get into the box, look into the light, and be whisked away to your favorite paradise.”
Another man was forced in, and he disappeared. Dwight was next.
“Ah, you,” a guard remarked, touching his tablet. “We have something special planned for you. David said we weren’t supposed to send you in alone. He went through some trouble to find your friend. He called it a going-away present.” He motioned for Dwight to step inside the box. However, before going in, he froze as if cursed by Medusa.
“Wait! You can’t. Don’t hurt her.” Poppy was on the floor of the cube, watching him with what he perceived as a look of avian worry.
The guard laughed. “He said seeing your bird in there would do more harm than the diseases ever could. I admit I thought he might have been off the mark on the point, but it turns out our great leader knows a lot more than I do.”
He trudged through the door. His clothing rubbed against his chafed back and shoulders, making him break out in tears. However, he endured the pain to bend over and coax Poppy to climb up his arm. She wasn’t normally one to be held, but she did enjoy standing on his shoulder like a pirate’s pal. If they were going to die together, he didn’t want her to be alone.
“Come on, Poppy, let’s get this over with.” To his surprise, the bird hopped on his hand and kept hopping all the way up his arm.
Back on his feet, he looked out the open door. The pretty young woman in blue stood next in line. He vaguely recalled being a bit short with her. With the time he had left, he could at least fix one mistake.
“I’m sorry I called you a bitch. I wanted so badly to find her.” He pointed to his shoulder, proud as a new papa.
The girl smiled, a tear rolling down her cheek. “She’s really a beautiful bird. I swear if I would have known what she looked like, I would have helped you find her.”
The door swung shut, cutting off her voice.
“Wait! You can see her?”
He’d watched other men yell and scream to be let out of the box before they disappeared in the light. He knew sound didn’t travel through the clear material, but he kept trying.
“You have to tell me! Can you see her?” He leaned against the wall, making the young lady take a step back.
She glanced at the operators for a second, then looked back to him.
Her final wave was heartbreaking.
“I think this is it, Poppy.”
CHAPTER 28
Pike’s Peak Cog Railway, CO
“We effing did it,” Kyla said proudly, after almost twenty-four hours of effort to have contacted Emily and her uncle.
“It isn’t over yet,” Meechum replied, guiding the minivan ever farther down the railroad right-of-way. They were at the edge of the tree line, aimed almost due east toward Colorado Springs. Toward the impact zone.
Kyla still held her phone. “I told them we would get safe. I may have lied.” The sight of five missiles cruising over her head was enough to convince her of the danger they were in.
“I heard you. I’m looking.” The Marine’s words sounded tired and slurred; they were both exhausted.
Meechum went for broke speeding along the tracks. The tires bounced on the railroad ties, causing a vibration to rock everything inside the van with them. Junk from the center console sputtered into the back. A kid’s sippy cup came bouncing to the front. After half a minute, she slowed the van, studying the rocks and terrain to their right. She hammered the gas again when it wasn’t what she’d hoped. “We’re getting there.”
“Getting where?” There was nothing outside but rocks, trees, and a little creek about fifty feet down the embankment to their right. The water feature grew in width as small waterfalls flowed in from both sides of the narrow valley.
“Almost…there.” Meechum seemed to ignore her. Her eyes barely left the creek even as she drove at sixty miles-an-hour down a steep grade to vacate the mountain.
When they rounded a bend, another of the stopped tram cars appeared. The Marine drove off the tracks, sped by the red ghost train, clipped the rear corner of the second car, and veered back onto the right-of-way like a stunt driver.
“That was close,” Meechum admitted quietly.
“We should slow,” Kyla suggested.
“No time,” the driver replied. A few seconds later, she shouted, “There!”
Meechum put both feet on the brakes and the van sputtered on the tracks, throwing rocks and dust everywhere. The instant the van got close to a stop, she jammed on the e-brake and shut off the motor.
“Run for it, Dudette!”
Kyla watched as the dr
iver got out, ran around the hood, and collapsed.
“What the hell? I’m coming!”
The Marine had fallen on the tracks in front of the van. When Kyla ran up, she experienced the weight of a ticking clock. It was urgent they get somewhere immediately, but where the heck was Meechum going? There was nothing around them but forest, rocks, and a creek.
“Meech!” She got down next to her friend.
“Water…”
“You need water?” She had none.
The combat Marine was soaked with sweat. Her eyes swam loops in her sockets. Still, she fought through it to grab Kyla’s sleeve. “Get in the water, girl!
The black uniform made it difficult to see the soaked-through blood from Meechum’s shoulder wound, but now a fist-sized patch glistened in the sunlight. The woman had finally reached the hard limit of her endurance and pain. She was out cold.
The water was at the bottom of the embankment. Out of the van, looking down on five stories of descent suddenly seemed like being at the top of a skyscraper.
“Come on, Marine, you’re not done yet!” Kyla yelled, thinking it was how it happened in the movies, but Meechum didn’t snap awake, ready for one last hurrah.
The warrior woman once gave her a piece of advice, which she now took to heart. She’d said the trick to being a badass was accepting you can’t always look before you leap. See what needs to be done, act like you’re in control, and jump right in…
“All right,” she continued, “I’ll get you there myself.”
Kyla struggled to drag her to the edge. Looking to the sky near the NORAD mountain, there wasn’t a white flash of light, so they weren’t dead yet. The missiles, however, had to be getting to their destination.
She sat on the rocks and let herself slide over the gravel incline, going down a few feet. She held onto Meechum’s belt to keep them together. However, once the deadweight went over the side, she lost her footing.
“Shit!”
Kyla was unable to stop the momentum. All she could do was hold Meechum tight and slide down the rocky incline with her. When they weren’t moving fast, it was possible to use her feet to push off rocks and bushes, but she was out of control in seconds.
For the first time in her life, Kyla was thankful she had a little extra around the hips. Her black trousers absorbed the brunt of the rapid descent and twice she had to pull her friend onto her own body to keep from hitting sharp edges.
Both struck the bottom at breakneck speeds. Kyla shifted her body to absorb the blow with her side. Meechum bounced off a last rock, landing on top of her. After a second inhaling the dust kicked up by their descent, and glad nothing was broken, she rolled the woman onto the ground and forced herself to stand up.
“Come on! The water will be nice!” She ignored the road rash up her back and on her elbows. She didn’t look at the scrapes on the Marine. The only thing of consequence was getting to the safety of the deep creek ten feet away.
Even as she put her foot in the water, Kyla was still convinced they weren’t going to make it. She wondered if a nuclear blast was instantaneous. Would she even know she was dead?
Act like you’re in control.
“Hold your breath!”
NORAD, Cheyenne Mountain Entrance, CO
Brent had never experienced such pent-up hatred for someone. Even the VC back in Vietnam eventually exacted a begrudging respect. They, at least, were fighting a style of warfare he understood. Long, and those enemy fighters he stood with, were coldblooded genocidal maniacs. And, worse, these people had corrupted and shot at Trish, the one person left in the world he cared about.
He got in underneath the shotgun and pushed Long onto his butt. It shocked the hell out of him to see a Humvee roll by. The pair of them nearly went under the tires.
The other man was much younger than him, but Brent had the experience and weight. He’d fallen on top of him and rung his bell. His next move was to wrap his thick hands around Long’s tiny neck.
“Die, you sick son of a bitch.”
Long kicked and squirmed, but there was no way Brent was going to let go. A pair of explosions shook the ground, though he barely heard them. They’d hit rather close, but he didn’t care about himself.
Two of his men rallied to him, offering to help.
“Run, you guys! Get inside the tunnel before those Hellfires hit you!” He figured the black Humvee was drawing the heavy ordnance. They would be dead men if they didn’t find hard cover by the time one of the tankers took a hit.
His heart came up his throat as he fought to stay on top of the struggling man. A black mist swirled around the edges of his vision as the singular focus at killing his enemy exacted a physical toll.
“We got this, boss.” Kevin, his small black friend, had a large M1911 pistol pointed at Long’s head.
“Yeah, let him up so we can off him,” Andre added.
Brent pumped air like a locomotive, still gripping Long’s throat. “Not necessary, my friends. This little puke has been put down like the dog he is.”
He dropped the dead man and finally looked up. “Please. Run into the tunnel. I’ll be there in a second. I just need to see—” The words stuck in his voice box as he glanced over to Trish. There was no doubt about her condition.
He scurried over, killing his knees in the act of dropping by her side. “Trish!”
She opened her eyes at hearing her name.
“You’re alive!” he declared.
“Am I?” she asked matter-of-factly. “I can’t feel anything below my ears.” She tried to laugh, but it came out as a croak.
Brent caught sight of his two friends, still standing behind him. He was mad they weren’t going for cover, but it also made him feel good knowing they were there.
“Rest,” he replied. “I’m so sorry about all of this.” The shotgun blast had devastated her side. Blood pooled on the ground next to her. If he’d intended to put compression on her wounds, he would need a queen-sized pillow. All he could do was take her hand and hold it tight.
She spoke in a low voice. “No. I’m sorry. I should have told you I was offered a bribe. I thought about it a lot, too, but I didn’t want you to think less of me once the world changed. I never imagined—”
“I forgive you, kid. I forgive you. I always thought of you like the daughter I never had. Truth be told, there’s nothing you could do that I wouldn’t forgive. I love you.” His salty old eyes let go of a few tears.
She smiled weakly, but she looked behind him for a second.
A strange sound, almost a tiger-like growl, came in on the wind.
Brent had enough time to turn his head.
A long, thin aircraft went by like a lightning bolt.
Then his story ended in light.
NORAD, Cheyenne Mountain Entrance, CO
Ted screamed to those close by. “There’s a nuclear missile heading for us. Does anyone know how to work the freaking door out there?”
There were dozens of dictators and generalissimos, but none of the black pajama soldiers. He couldn’t fathom why it worked out that way, but someone had to know how to operate the place. Right?
The PA system came to life with a woman’s computer voice. “WARNING: NUCLEAR STRIKE INBOUND.”
To his surprise, the outer door began shutting, almost as if on voice command.
“Thank God!” he said to himself, glad it was happening.
He retreated into the inner vault, which turned out to be a good idea. The men had gathered and were pushing it shut. He doubted they would have waited for him if he’d stayed outside, even for a second.
Ted caught the attention of one of the portly gentlemen watching the activity at the door. Clearly, he was from one of the banana republics south of the border. He wore an ornate red ribbon around his neck and had two dozen pins, medals, and gold medallions attached to his oversized uniform shirt. His interest wasn’t in his awards, however. “Can you tell me why you all came here together? I’m, uh, from a different po
st.”
“David invited us. We are to each get a new country for our people. Mine is to be Missouri!” He tried to stand up, proud at his statement, but he couldn’t overcome the slouch of his roundness, so he went back to leaning against the wall.
Silently, he thought maybe David had done a bit of a double-cross, but he didn’t want to give himself away.
“Well, good luck.”
The man waved him away like a peasant.
Wanting to get away from the enemy, he looked for a place to retreat. There was a short hallway leading to a larger cavern, which he assumed was where he would find all the NORAD structures. He grabbed Emily’s hand and dragged her away from the activity near the door. When they were clear of the men, he whispered, “It might not be enough. I saw the outer door closing, but it moves slow. If it doesn’t get all the way shut, we might still get snuffed out. This bunker is really old.”
She stopped him. “Are you saying this might be it? The end?”
He put on a brave face. “I was going to run deeper into the complex. It might give us the extra protection we need—”
Emily put a finger to his lips.
“But—” he tried to reply.
“Shh.” She smiled. “The President of the United States has something she would like to say.”
Ted stood down, letting his heart rate run out and settle for a few seconds.
“I should have been dead about twenty times over the past many days. How we are still alive at this second is a miracle beyond my wildest dreams. You got us into a bunker, Ted. An honest-to-God bunker built to withstand what’s coming at us.”
“I hope—”
She shushed him again.
“Ted, I would fail at my duties as leader of the armed forces if I didn’t make at least one promotion during this conflict.”
They’d already talked about promoting him. He’d refused to allow her to bump him up multiple ranks because it simply wasn’t possible, as per the rules of the United States military. He had his arguments ready to go, but she immediately zagged in a different direction. “I want to advance you to the rank of First Gentleman.”
He froze in his boots. Not because he was afraid to commit to the woman he’d spent every second of the last week with, but because it was an offer way too good to be true. He couldn’t deny it had been on his mind a lot. In any other time, he might worry about moving too fast, but under the circumstances, he had a strong argument to say he’d been moving far too slow.
Minus America Box Set | Books 1-5 Page 90