The Day After Never (Book 7): Havoc

by Blake, Russell

  “Got water coming in, boys. Going to get serious pretty soon. What’s the holdup?”

  “The damned gizmo’s jammed. We’ve got the bolts open, but it won’t lower.”

  Lucas patted Tango again and led him to the stern, where three men were huddled around an instrument panel with glowing red and green lights. One of them looked up at him and shook his head. “It’s no good, boss.”

  “There has to be a manual release,” Lucas said, and scanned the huge ramp.

  “I don’t see one.”

  Lucas twisted and looked in the other direction. Another ramp led to a higher level, for vehicles to drive up to where smaller boats and other equipment were stored. “We need to get these animals out of here before this thing sinks.”

  “I hear you. If you got any ideas, we’re all ears.”

  Lucas led Tango up the ramp at the far end and arrived at a series of hatches in the side of the hull with large cranes beside them. He tried one, and it creaked open a foot, and he found himself looking down at the water from three stories above.

  “Fellas! Get up here,” he called. The men came at a run, and Lucas indicated the hatches. “If you can get those open, we can lead the horses up here, and as the stern floods, it’ll get closer to the water. Once we’re a story up, the horses can jump without getting hurt and swim to shore.”

  Lucas tied Tango to a brace and joined the men in sliding the covers away. After considerable effort, they had cleared an opening approximately twenty-five feet wide, intended for loading equipment and provisions, judging by the cranes.

  “Let’s bring the horses up on this level. Water’s rising, so be quick about it.”

  They went to the lower hold and passed the word among the handlers. The water was now calf deep, so Lucas didn’t have to press the sense of urgency. It took twenty minutes to get all two hundred and something animals to the second-level hold, but they managed, and watched as the water rose to cover the level below.

  A faint light was beginning to glow through the fog by the time the water had risen enough for the horses to safely disembark, and Lucas astride Tango was the first to dive in with a loud splash. The water was freezing and shocked the breath from him, but Tango’s desire to survive kicked in, and the horse swam for the shore only a hundred yards away. The bottom rose gradually and Tango found his footing, and then they were shedding water as they emerged onto dry land.

  Scores of other horses followed their lead. The animals were met by the men, who were waiting on the shore for them. Dawn had broken by the time all the animals were safely out of the water, and once they were, Lucas rode to where Art and Sam were watching.

  “We need to get clear of the ship. Only a matter of time till someone sees it.”

  “We were just saying the same thing. We’ve got all the gear. Looks like we lost two men in the crash – broken necks. The rest are in good shape.”

  “Then let’s get out of here.” Lucas looked to his left. “What’s that?”

  “Looks like a water treatment plant or something.”

  “The fog’s a godsend, but it’ll burn off soon enough,” Sam said.

  “You okay?” Art asked. “Your lips are blue.”

  Lucas managed a smile. “I’ll live. Let’s make tracks.”

  “Will do. Henry, Sam, you’re in charge of the men on foot. We’ll ride ahead and scout out someplace we can put up for the day.”

  “How many radios do we have?” Lucas asked.

  “Eight.”

  “Give them four, and keep four for the cavalry. Probably best if we split up. Safer. Might be smartest to find some empty houses and hide in those until nightfall. Smaller groups are less likely to attract attention.”

  Art nodded. “So much for all the planning, huh?”

  “Like I said before, everybody’s got a plan till it all goes tits up.” Lucas paused. “Once we find someplace safe, I want to head into town and see if we can get any intel on where the Chinese brass are concentrated. We cut the head off the hydra, we should be able to mop up the rest easier. We saw that in Astoria. No reason it shouldn’t play the same here.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “Me too,” said Sam. “No way I’m going to be able to sleep with this much adrenaline in my system.”

  “Then it’s settled. Let’s find some defendable places in case we’re attacked, and then we’ll scope out the main Chinese base.”

  Chapter 43

  Denver, Colorado

  Elijah glowered at the members of the church’s inner circle. His head was throbbing with the worst hangover of his life, and even after several morning shots of his miracle potion to stave off the worst of it, he felt like he’d been mauled by a bear.

  News of his father’s death had shocked him to his core when he’d been told, but worse, he was humiliated at having been discovered with porn playing on his television, tied to the bed, naked, and wasted out of his mind. Even though nobody had dared to ask what had happened, he could see the mistrust and condemnation in the eyes of everyone at the gathering, and could practically hear the sniggering as the story circulated of his debauched interlude while his father was being murdered.

  To make matters worse, he’d been briefed about his father’s insane intent to poison the entire church, which had been discovered after the celebration had been canceled. One of the ministers had had the presence of mind to ask what the new shaft was hooked up to, and had found the nerve gas canister placed directly in front of a huge fan. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what had been planned, and Elijah had hurriedly silenced the worker who’d led the minister to the fan by sending him on a pilgrimage from which he’d be lucky to return in a year.

  Now Elijah was the putative leader of a church in disarray, with the inner circle arguing over how to proceed.

  Elijah cleared his throat, and the room fell silent. “I’ve heard everyone’s recommendations, and I can assure you that I knew nothing of any plot to poison our fellowship. That’s nuts. I suspect some trick by those who broke the girl out – that makes the most sense. Not only were they determined to rescue their demon child, they intended to murder all those who threatened the reign of their dark master.” He hesitated and looked each member in the eye before continuing. “Any suggestion that my father, who was a victim of these animals, had anything to do with this scheme is a slur on his good name, and helps them achieve their goal of destroying the church from within. I knew him better than any of you, and there was no way he would have carried out this…unspeakable horror.”

  “But the worker–” one of them started.

  “The worker who was all too willing to leave on a moment’s notice after telling this preposterous story? Probably working in league with them. How else do you think they were able to breach our security and break the girl out? It would be impossible without inside help. For all we know, their accomplices are still among us. Even in this room.”

  That silenced any dissent. The allusion that any of them might be suspect chilled any arguments, which was what Elijah had intended. Elijah had no problem believing his insane father might have gone down the road of other cult leaders who’d lost their minds and decided to kill their flocks by mass suicide or fights to the death against unbeatable odds or outright murder, as had been the case with the gas.

  But one of the things Elijah had learned from his father was to never allow a good crisis to go to waste, and the current one created a tremendous opportunity for him: to take over the church, purge his enemies, and consolidate his power, while rewriting bits of history that weren’t flattering of him.

  “The question,” Elijah intoned, “is where do we go from here? The church is growing. As saddened and shocked by my father’s death as we all are, we have to put aside our mourning and do what’s right for the church. We’ve built something truly amazing here, and I for one am not going to allow it to crumble. It was my father’s life’s work, and I intend to make it mine as well.” He stopped and fixe
d Minister Fogarty with a hard stare. “I’m not blaming anyone for allowing my father to put himself in harm’s way. I know how headstrong he could be. But I’m not going to allow his murder to go unavenged. Those responsible for it must pay, as will their henchmen among our ranks.”

  “How do you intend to do that? We can’t even be sure who took her, much less where they went. And Ellen is…no longer with us.”

  “She gave us an idea of where it is. That should be enough.”

  “Then what now?”

  “I think we have to speak to the congregation and paint a path forward; show solidarity and a vision for our future. Only once we’ve reassured everyone of our resolve should we share our plan to go after this so-called Shangri-La and burn it to the ground with everyone in it.”

  “We’re hardly an army, Elijah,” Minister Carvin admonished.

  “We’re almost six thousand strong.”

  “More than half are women and children.”

  “Look, Ellen said there were no more than a couple of hundred at their camp, many of whom were also women and children. We outnumber them thirty to one. Surely we can figure out a way to avenge my father’s death, not to mention the brutal murder of the guards and Ellen, who sacrificed everything to bring the false messiah to us.”

  Minister Fogarty spoke up. “I think you’re right about needing to reassure the flock. We have several hundred guests who might be having second thoughts as well. We’ve gone to considerable trouble and expense to lure them here. We need to take action before this year’s carnival is a total waste.”

  “This evening, we’ll have the funeral and memorial for my father. I want everyone to outdo themselves at organizing a tribute that will awe everyone – a tribute deserving of a great man, a visionary, and the messenger of God. I’ll deliver the eulogy, as well as a sermon that’ll reassure everyone that we’re on track and will continue to carry on with my father’s work. We’ll figure out how to deal with Shangri-La later. For now we need to close ranks and mourn my father’s passing, and allow the congregation to express their grief. Only once they’ve done so will we move forward with planning how to wipe the scum and their brat from the face of the earth.” He looked around the room for any hint of dissention. Seeing none, he nodded as though it were decided. “Now, I need some time to pen a eulogy fitting for one of the greatest figures of our time. Does anyone have any questions?”

  Elijah adjourned the meeting. By seizing the reins and controlling the discussion, as well as ending the meeting on the note he wanted, he’d effectively stepped into his father’s position. Speaking as the bereaved son of the Prophet tonight, he would solidify that leadership in the minds of his followers.

  Once that was achieved, he’d figure out how to destroy Shangri-La, but especially how to get revenge for the humiliation Julie had caused him – an embarrassment he would never forget, and that thinking about made him physically ill.

  She would pay, as would the rest of her ilk.

  Every man, woman, and child.

  Chapter 44

  Seattle, Washington

  The morning fog had burned off and been replaced by a gray drizzle of cold rain that did little to warm Lucas as he rode, Art and Sam by his side, through the deserted streets of a residential neighborhood. The Chinese maps had shown two primary encampments, one on Harbor Island and the other at the Key Arena, adjacent to the Space Needle that towered above the city skyline.

  Lucas couldn’t fault the logic behind the choice of the arena for the main headquarters. The huge coliseum would comfortably house all the Chinese animals and troops with room to spare, and it was easily defendable, especially given the view from the Space Needle, which would enable spotters to see for miles in every direction.

  What troubled him most was that the force the Chinese had sent would be woefully inadequate to occupy a sprawling metropolis the size of Seattle, which meant that there would be more ships on the way – it was just a matter of time. He’d shared his concern with Art while on the ship, but Art had been optimistic.

  “Look at what happened with Artesia. Most of the squatters wound up joining up with us. When we free Seattle, I’d imagine the locals will rally and do the same, so instead of being an easy target for an invasion force, they’ll be ready, equipped, and armed to the teeth.”

  “The question being why they didn’t stop them this time.”

  “Probably because nobody but the gang that ran the place had any guns. Makes sense – if you’re a smaller group, your only advantage over thousands is to be the ones with the weapons. But reverse that situation once we’ve liberated the city, and you have thousands with not only the Chinese’s scavenged weapons, but whatever’s in the national guard armory and the military bases. I’m sure the Chinese were thinking this would be a walk in the park – thugs who would run at the first sign of a serious fight. But face them off with an armed citizenry that has everything to lose by backing down and it’s a different story.”

  They’d set off toward the downtown area from the North Queen Anne district. The homes nearer the rail yard had been abandoned and so were easily occupied for the day. They hadn’t seen anyone since setting out earlier, sticking to the smaller streets. The area was dotted with the ruins of houses that had burned to the ground, and most of the windows in the ones still standing were broken out, the façades tagged with graffiti and many pocked with bullet holes from the months of looting that had followed the collapse. The district was a massive ghost town, and in spite of his familiarity with the devastation from the virus, the sight of miles of uninhabited dwellings made Lucas’s skin crawl.

  The idea had been to try to find some locals who could give them information about the Chinese, but so far that had proved difficult, and they’d been meandering down the streets for over an hour before they spied a lone man dressed in filthy rags pushing a shopping cart along the street, stopping at each house and going inside before returning with some find.

  They rode toward him, but when he saw them, the man bolted away, moving faster than seemed possible given his physical condition and age. Lucas looked to Art and frowned. “Doesn’t bode well.”

  “He’s probably been surviving a long time by avoiding trouble,” Art reasoned.

  They continued past an elementary school and spotted two men pushing a cart toward a park, where there were six other food carts set up beneath tattered umbrellas to stave off the worst of the rain. A crowd of several dozen men and women stood beneath towering trees, munching on whatever was on offer. All looked up at Lucas’s group as they neared, with expressions ranging from surprised to frightened.

  They dismounted and approached the carts, and one of the men frowned at their approach. Lucas eyed him and then the food. “Something wrong?”

  “You didn’t hear? The Chinese said anyone with a weapon will be shot on sight.”

  Lucas adjusted the sling of his M4 on his shoulder, glanced down at the Kimber at his hip, and shrugged. “That right? Well, I’d better make sure they don’t see me, then.” He eyed the cook. “What is that?”

  “Squirrel.”

  Lucas sniffed. “Any good?”

  “It takes a few of them to fill you up, but with the glaze they aren’t half bad.”

  “We’ll try one each,” Lucas said, indicating Art.

  The cook removed three skewers of cubed squirrel meat and handed them to the men with soot-crusted fingers. “That’ll be a round.”

  “Surprised they let you keep bullets,” Lucas said, handing the man a cartridge.

  “Not supposed to, but you gotta do what you gotta do, right?”

  The man who’d stared holes through Lucas grunted. “If they catch you, you’re all three dead men.”

  “You already said that,” Lucas said. “They have patrols around this area?”

  “Mostly they stay holed up in the arena. But you never know. Some days, nothing; others, they’ll have men crawling a neighborhood. No rhyme or reason.”

  “The arena?�
�� Lucas asked, sounding surprised to encourage the man to talk.

  “Yeah. They had a bunch of us build a wall around the grounds. Took hundreds of men the better part of two weeks. They held us at gunpoint and gave us slave rations. A bunch of us got sicker than dogs and didn’t make it.” He spit near the base of a tree. “I thought it was bad with the gangs, but the Chinese have them beat.”

  “What did you build the wall out of?”

  “Anything we could find. We stripped a bunch of the buildings around it and hauled rubble day and night.”

  “Are there a lot of them?”

  “Must be at least…I don’t know. Five hundred at the arena.”

  “Heard they had a base over on Harbor Island,” Art said.

  The man looked at Art’s bandaged arm and nodded. “That’s right. But the main base is at the arena.”

  “That where the bigwigs hang out?”

  He nodded again. “They stay in the building next to it. The arena’s for the peons. They got power and water over there. Had their own engineers to set it all up. Went out with a bunch of slave labor and pulled every panel for a half mile off the houses and installed them on the roof.” He laughed harshly. “The joke’s on them, though, with the weather like this a lot of the time.”

  “Nobody fought back?”

  The man gave him a wry grin. “With what? The gangs confiscated all the guns early on – not that there were a lot of guns around. Remember, this is Seattle. We thought guns were the root of all evil. Not sure anyone’s still alive who feels that way.” He looked Lucas and his companions up and down. “Not from around here, are you?”

  “Nope. Just passing through.” Lucas paused. “They patrol at night, too? We’re lucky we made it this far.”

  “Not that I’ve heard of. Too dangerous for them, I suppose. They’re probably afraid someone will take a potshot at them.”