“What color was it, Doug?”
“I… oh, I’m not sure. I only saw it for a second and it was too far away to make out, but I think… brown or gray, maybe?”
“Shit,” Jack hissed, feeling goosebumps prickle across his skin as he stepped harder on the gas, urging the cruiser forward as fast as he dared. Back at Plumas Creek the sheriff’s friend had been driving an old beige pickup. But surely it couldn’t be him? The town was almost two hours drive behind them, and when they’d left the guy had still been out cold on the asphalt. Could he really be so bloody minded that he’d chase them a hundred miles across the Sierra Nevadas just to get revenge?
“Cathy.” He turned in his seat and shook her leg. “Cathy! Wake up. We’ve got company.”
Cathy frowned, half asleep and mumbling. “What?”
“Wake up! We might have trouble on the way.”
Finally she opened her eyes, bloodshot and glazed. “Jesus, Jack, can’t a girl sleep for five minutes?” She stretched in her seat, gently pushing Boomer from her lap as her hand slipped down to the holster at her hip. “What is it?”
“Someone’s coming up behind us. Doug says a pickup, maybe brown or gray.”
“Oh, God,” she moaned, pulling out her pistol. “You don’t think it’s Ray, do you?”
Jack shrugged. “I don’t know, but it sounds like we’re about to find out. He’s gaining on us.” The driver was still honking his horn, only now it sounded much closer, maybe just a couple of turns behind them on the tightly winding road.
“Damn it.” Cathy turned and looked out the rear window. “If we’d been thinking straight we would have tossed his keys into the forest before we left.”
Jack grimaced, his eyes locked on the road ahead. “If we’d been thinking straight we would have shot him in the head.” He scanned the road, searching for a good ambush spot. “We have to stop him before he catches us. Do you think you could shoot out the tires if I stop the car?”
Cathy lifted her pistol. “With this? No, I’m pretty sure that only works in the movies. I’d need a clean shot through the side wall. If I got lucky I might hit one tire, but there’d be no guarantee it’d deflate right away, and even if it did there’s no guarantee it would be enough to stop him.”
“How about the engine? Maybe a shot through the radiator? You think that could be enough to kill it?”
Cathy shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to bet my life on it. With a 9MM it’d take a lucky shot or a couple of magazines to do enough damage to knock out the engine. And just in case you were thinking to ask, gas tanks don’t explode when you shoot them.”
“Damn it.” Jack slapped his palm against the wheel with frustration. The honking was even louder now, almost constant, and he knew they only had a minute or two before the vehicle caught up with them. He spun the wheel and sent the car careening around a tight hairpin at a rocky outcrop, and as the road straightened out again Cathy grabbed his shoulder.
“Pull in here!” she yelled, pointing to a spot just after the turn where the road widened a little. Jack stamped on the brake without thinking, steering the cruiser into the shadow of the rock wall that loomed over the road, and it wasn’t until the car had screeched to a halt that he wondered why he’d followed her order.
“Why are we stopping? I thought you couldn’t stop the truck with that thing.”
“I’m not going to stop the truck, Jack,” she said, pushing open her door and climbing out. “He has to slow down to take the turn, and he won’t see us until he’s almost on top of us.” She dropped into a crouch at the front of the cruiser, resting her elbows on the hood, pointing the pistol at the road behind them. “When he comes around the corner I’m gonna shoot him through the windshield.”
Jack looked back at the bend, expecting the pickup to rocket into sight at any moment. “Well, wait a minute. Are you sure you can make that shot?”
Cathy nodded, closing one eye and staring down the barrel. “Don’t worry, Jack, a baby could make this shot. He’ll be a big, slow moving target.”
Jack decided not to press the point, but that wasn’t what he meant. He wasn’t asking her if she could hit the target. He was asking if she was ready to take a life. He’d never done it before, and God willing he’d never have to, but he was pretty sure there was a yawning gulf between putting a bullet through a paper target and putting one through a man’s chest. If Cathy hesitated when the moment came…
He could hear the engine now, a ghostly echo bouncing off the rocky walls of the gorge, and he reached to the glove compartment and pulled out the sheriff’s revolver, resting it in his lap just in case it came down to a firefight. He was fairly sure he wouldn’t have the guts to pull the trigger if it came down to it, but he felt better just knowing that the gun was there.
The pickup was just around the corner now. Whatever happened from here on in, it was too late now to change course. Jack whispered a prayer and kept his foot hovering over the gas as he saw Cathy’s hands tremble. He knew they wouldn’t get far, but he was ready to drive if she lost her nerve.
With a squeal of brakes followed by the high pitched whine of a low gear the vehicle came racing into view around the bend, and as soon as Jack caught sight of it he felt a rush of relief, followed immediately by a wave of dread.
It wasn’t Ray’s pickup.
It wasn’t a pickup at all.
It was a military Humvee, a tan camouflage painted monster that took up most of the narrow road, and as soon as it came into view around the hairpin bend everything seemed to shift into slow motion. Jack could see the surprise in the face of the driver. It was clear he hadn’t expected to find the cruiser hiding around the corner. He slammed on the brakes. With a deafening squeal the enormous tires locked up, and the vehicle went into a sideways, shimmying skid before crashing to a halt against the steel crash barrier at the edge of the road.
Before the vehicle came to a stop, though, Cathy squeezed the trigger. She was already committed to it. Her trigger finger got the message to pull before her brain had the chance to call a cease fire. Jack flinched at the report, and he felt his heart jump into his throat as a white blemish appeared in the toughened glass of the Humvee’s windshield, inches from the driver’s face.
He turned back to Cathy in time to see the shock spread across her face. She looked down at the gun as if she had no idea what it was doing in her hands, and as the passenger side door of the Humvee swung open she tossed it to the ground and raised both arms in the air.
“Don’t shoot!” she yelled, her eyes bulging with terror. “I didn’t mean it!”
Jack instinctively ducked in his seat when he saw a pair of boots hit the ground beside the truck. A uniformed man stepped out into the road, his pistol drawn as he shielded himself behind his open door. For a long moment he watched Cathy through the narrow gap between the door frame, and then he began to step towards the cruiser, his gun raised.
“You!” He yelled, pointing the gun squarely at Cathy’s chest. “Down on the ground!”
΅
CHAPTER FIVE
THE WHIRLY THING ON TOP
BEALE AIR FORCE Base looked nothing like Karen had pictured.
She’d expected it to be busier. She’d imagined rows of fighter jets lined up ready for takeoff, and hangars full of men in flight suits flashing semaphore at each other. Now that she thought about it she realized she’d pictured a scene from Top Gun, but the reality… well, it wasn’t quite so spectacular.
As she walked out the door tightly clutching Emily’s hand she looked back at the hunched, single story administrative building where they’d been holding her, and from this angle it looked almost exactly like a rundown suburban high school. Beside it sat a plot of hundreds of small homes laid out in a grid, each identical in every way, from the white picket fences to the sun-bleached red paint on the wooden walls. Beyond that there was nothing at all. Barren scrub seemed to stretch all the way to the distant horizon.
“I thought it’d be m
ore… I don’t know, more impressive,” she remarked. “Where are all the planes?”
The officer striding ahead of her replied without turning. “Beale is a 23,000 acre site, ma’am. It’s home to the 9th Reconnaissance Wing and a hell of a lot of classified UAVs, and we don’t show our toys to visitors. Please, this way.”
He led them around the corner of the admin building and pointed towards a large prefab garage built from corrugated sheets. As soon as Karen saw it the memories came flooding back, and her heart began to flutter in her chest.
“Right back where we started,” she sighed, noticing the troop truck parked in the center of the garage. It was the same truck that had brought them to the base. The same truck she’d been dragged from, kicking and screaming. Now she saw it she remembered being carried, half insensible, across the open ground to the admin building, and the memories hit her without mercy.
She remembered the tone of her voice changing as they dragged her out of the truck. Her scream began muffled by the canvas and ended with an eerie echo, bouncing off the corrugated walls. She remembered the pain as she landed on the hard concrete floor. The thick stink of diesel clawing its way down her throat. The pinch of hands grabbing her beneath her arms, and the changing sound as her heels dragged from the concrete out onto the dust outside.
And then… then the pain. The agony as the butt of the rifle knocked her senseless. The choking sensation as she fell face first into the dust, breathing it in, unable to move as her lungs filled with it.
Karen flinched as Valerie squeezed her arm and gave her a comforting smile. “Hey, at least we’re not leaving in handcuffs, right?”
“I guess so,” Karen agreed glumly, but she still didn’t relish the thought of climbing into the back of that truck again. Her throat felt dry. Already the idea of returning to the truck left her struggling to catch her breath. She’d never suffered from claustrophobia, but the thought of the canvas flap closing behind her made her lightheaded.
“Mommy, are you OK?” Emily looked up and squeezed Karen’s hand a little tighter. “You look sick.”
She shook her head, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, honey. Everything’s OK.”
The officer led them out of the sunlight and into the darkness of the garage, and as they left the light behind Karen felt her pace slow. “There’s a gas station about four miles east on highway 20,” he said, his voice hollow in the enclosed space. “It should have running water, and they have a store where you can get food. That’s as far as I can take you, understand? The 20 is on the main route to the safe zone, so you shouldn’t have a problem flagging down a ride.”
“That’s fine,” Ramos replied, flashing Karen a concerned glance. “We appreciate you taking us that far. Ummm… do you mind if Karen rides up front?”
“No, Doc, I’m fine,” she lied. Her heart was racing so fast she felt as if it was about to burst from her chest.
“You’re not fine, Karen,” Ramos argued. “Seriously, you look terrible. You still need treatment, and the last thing you need right now is any more stress. You can sit up front and get some fresh air.” He turned to the officer. “That’s OK, right?”
The officer shrugged. “It’s fine by me.”
Karen smiled gratefully, trying to steady her breathing as they approached the truck. She really didn’t want to lose it in front of Emily. She’d already been through enough. “Go on, pumpkin,” she said, her voice high and strained. “You can sit in the back with Valerie and the Doc, OK? I’ll be right up here with this nice man.”
The officer swept back the canvas covering from the back of the truck, and as soon as Karen felt the draft of hot, stale air her head started to swim. She felt as if her throat was closing up. Suddenly she needed to get out of the garage more than anything else in the world. She needed fresh air. She needed not to be here, looking up at this truck that just a couple of hours ago she thought would be the last thing she’d ever see.
Without warning – without even realizing what she was doing herself – she turned and ran for the door. Behind her she heard the officer yell out a warning, but his voice was just so much white noise against the ringing in her ears. She couldn’t even make out his words, and she didn’t care what he was yelling. She just knew she had to get out of there.
By the time she broke out into the sunlight she felt tears streaming down her face. When the warm sun touched her skin she collapsed in a heap on the ground, fighting for air, struggling to take a breath through a throat that felt as if it were being squeezed tight. It only constricted further when the thought flashed through her mind that the soldier’s warning could be followed by a gunshot. He could be training his weapon on her right now, squeezing the trigger. At any moment she might feel the bullet tear through her.
Her vision began to narrow to a tunnel. Her breath still failed to come. She knew she’d pass out any second now, and she was terrified that she’d never wake up again. What if the breath didn’t come even when she was out cold?
What if this is it? What if this is how I die?
She could barely see anything now. The world was swimming in front of her, the colors faded to muddy grays as her mind began to shut down. All she could see was a shifting blob in front of her, a figure that seemed to crouch at her feet. She felt hands grab her shoulders, but she couldn’t tell who it was.
“Deep breaths,” a voice called out, loud and clear enough to pierce through the closing fog. “In… and out. In… and out. Feel the air filling your lungs.”
She struggled to steal a ragged breath. It wasn’t enough.
“It’s OK, Karen,” the voice assured her. “This is just temporary. It’ll pass. Just focus on your breathing. You’re going to be OK. You’re safe. You’ll get through this.”
The voice kept calling out to her calmly, soothing her, encouraging her to breathe until finally, after what felt like an agonizing eternity, she finally managed to drag a full breath down her throat. It washed into her lungs like nectar, thick and nourishing, flooding her blood with oxygen and banishing the washed out gray as her starved brain finally got what it needed. Once the first breath had come the second came a little easier, and then the third, and by the fourth the tight grip had begun to release itself from her throat. She looked up through tear filled eyes, expecting to find Ramos crouching beside her.
It was Krasinski.
“Take your time,” he said, patting her on the shoulder before he looked up at something behind her. “Captain, can you hand me your canteen.” Behind Karen the officer passed forward a bottle, and Krasinski fished around his jacket pocket until he found a small silver case.
“Here, take this,” he said, holding out a pill. Karen took it without thinking, grabbing the canteen and washing it down with a gulp. “It’s Xanax,” Krasinski said. “It’ll help settle you down. I get anxiety attacks too,” he explained, before anyone asked. “I could recognize yours a mile away.” He watched Karen as she gradually recovered her composure, and when her breathing finally leveled out he took her by the hand and helped her to her feet. “Was that your first attack?”
Karen nodded, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Scariest thing in the world, the first one. Any idea what triggered it?” he asked. “It can be helpful to know the trigger so you’re better prepared if it ever happens again.”
“It was the truck.” Krasinski turned to Emily, pointing into the garage. Her voice trembled as she tried to hold back tears. “We were about to get in the truck when she went all white and started breathing funny.”
Krasinski looked up at the troop truck, then smiled at Emily. “Thank you, dear. Well, I don’t know if this works for you guys, but I think I can help you out with the truck.” He took Karen’s hand. “How do you think you’d manage in a helicopter?”
“A what?” Karen was sure she’d misheard him.
“A chopper. You’re still heading to Truckee, right?”
Karen nodded.
“Well, that’s where I’m heade
d now. I managed to hitch a ride on a supply run, and there’s plenty of room for you guys if you want to tag along. What do you say?”
The relief was almost enough to make her sob. “I…I’d be OK with it.” Karen turned to Ramos and Valerie with hope in her voice. “What do you guys think?”
The two of them exchanged a look, nodding to each other. “Better than waiting at a gas station for a ride,” Valerie said. “I say let’s go for it. What do you think, Emily?”
Emily looked up at Valerie, surprised to be asked her opinion, and sniffed away a stray tear. “A helicopter? Is that the one with the whirly thing on top?”
“Yeah, honey, it’s got a whirly thing,” Karen replied, smiling as she wiped away her own tears. “Do you wanna go for a ride?”
Emily nodded, a grin spreading across her face, her tears forgotten. “Can I sit by the window?”
Karen smiled. “Pumpkin, you can sit by any window you like.”
΅
CHAPTER SIX
NOT THE SMARTEST MOVE
JACK FELT EVERY muscle in his body tense.
He clutched the steering wheel with both hands, the revolver resting in his lap, and he prayed under his breath as the soldier stepped closer to the car, hoping against hope he wouldn’t pull the trigger. Cathy lay face down on the asphalt in front of the car, her hands spread out at her sides.
“I have a gun in here,” Jack called out, warning the soldier before he saw it for himself and decided to shoot first and ask questions later. “Revolver on my lap. I’m not touching it, OK? We don’t mean you any harm.”
The soldier kept his eyes locked on Jack and yelled back to the Humvee. “Gun! I need backup. You,” he said, addressing Jack again, “how many weapons do you have in the vehicle?”
“Just one,” Jack called out. “And Cathy’s is on the ground out there. We’re not a threat. We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Jack Archer (Book 3): Year Zero Page 5