End Days Series Box Set [Books 1-4]

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “You mean, will it crash?” Bob inquired. “I don’t think so. It seems pretty safe to me.”

  He knew about her irrational fear of being in cramped quarters, although she hid it fairly well from everyone else.

  “No, I’m talking about the energy bursts and time-shifting weirdness. Maybe the Silver Bullet will run over someone who appears on the tracks out of nowhere. Or the three of us will disappear and wake up in a dinosaur nest.”

  There was no consistency to the news broadcasts. Some things appeared from the past, but modern people also went missing.

  “What are you saying, Doctor Sinclair?” asked the always-formal Indian scientist.

  “Oh, just a theory I shared with General Smith and the NORAD jerks when I was trying to stop them from removing that box. I think I confirmed it later. I saw the red wave shoot out from the ground with my own eyes. It came out exactly in line with the collider ring. The energy then formed a growing ripple broadcasting outward from SNAKE, but it did not come inward. I think that is significant.”

  The three of them fell silent. Faith was sure she was right about that one small piece of the mystery, but she still didn’t know what it meant.

  A quiet chime announced their arrival, and the car decelerated gently. Seconds later, they pulled into the well-lit station and stopped. Three guards greeted her and motioned them from the car. NORAD scientists and some of her people gathered along the collider ring where the Four Arrows box had been pulled out of service.

  “I’m glad to see the research is ongoing,” she said quietly.

  Sun gestured to the device sitting about ten feet from where it had been. “My team has been working on isolating the power supply inside the box, Dr. Sinclair. If we knew what it was, we might have a better understanding of the nature of the energy flow.”

  Faith turned to Bob. “Do you have anything to add?” She was still upset at him for not telling her earlier about his role in setting up the secret experiment between CERN and SNAKE, but her goal at the moment was learning what she didn’t know about the strange devices and using that to extrapolate the cause of the blue and red blasts of energy.

  “I don’t know for sure. I’m being honest. My understanding of these links was that the Four Arrow project was designed to test the viability of quantum entanglement. It was supposed to project energy from one point on Earth to another, kind of like a wireless internet connection. They told me the goal was to power both boxes with the colliders and link them with their proprietary technology.”

  Faith groaned but didn’t say what she wanted to. He’d let the project go forward without a full understanding of the science or the hardware being used.

  “Well, that at least tells us something,” she replied. “Can we open the box?”

  Bob breathed in through his teeth. “I don’t think so, Faith. They sealed the cabinets by welding them shut. If we cut in, we might destroy something important.”

  “At this point, does it matter?” Sunetra deadpanned. “I would like to get a better look at what inspired this project. It might give me a nudge in the right direction on how to stop it.”

  Faith agreed, and saw the connection with their earlier conversation. “And it might help us piece together how these boxes are affecting the direction of the energy bursts.”

  It might also answer a question she’d been dancing around since that early conversation with Donald.

  Was it safe inside the ring?

  Little America, Wyoming

  Connie sat next to Buck at the restaurant. She was done with her chicken sandwich, but he was still working on the half-pound burger he’d ordered. She had her arm slung over the top of his chair and gently rubbed his back with her fingernails. It was like she knew he was wracked with doubt about not being able to make contact with Garth.

  She made it easy to get distracted.

  He glanced at her from time to time without being too obvious about it and admired her new outfit. After joking about buying her something tasteless, he had let her buy whatever she desired in the truck stop’s clothing department as another payment for his role in destroying her Volkswagen. She bought faded blue jeans, something she described as a “darling leather cowgirl belt,” and a long-sleeved white blouse that exposed both her shoulders. As before, he thought she came right out of a country and western lifestyle catalog, but it made her extremely happy to find what she wanted.

  “Thanks, Buck,” she said when their eyes met. “This all fits perfectly. I’m proud I was able to eat without dumping chicken on myself. That’s what usually happens with me and new clothes.”

  “I’m a little disappointed I couldn’t get you to buy something more truck stop-y,” he mused, “although for a fifty-four-year-old woman, you sure do dress like a young’un.”

  She pulled her arm off the back of his chair and smacked him on the shoulder. “You should never talk about a woman’s age!”

  Monsignor, Eve, Beans, and Sparky sat at the table with them. They’d been talking among themselves while they ate, but Connie’s jest focused their attention on Buck and her.

  “You’re fifty-four?” Eve asked. “You look amazing.”

  “Yeah, I would never have guessed,” Monsignor added.

  Buck laughed. “It’s an inside joke. She’s from 2003, so I added a few years to her real age. I have it on good authority that she isn’t a day over thirty.”

  Connie rolled her eyes and laughed. “They aren’t stupid, Buck, but it was a nice try. They know I have an eighteen-year-old son.”

  “Did you have him at twelve?” the young Monsignor asked after subtracting numbers in his head.

  “No, you fool,” Sparky interjected. “She’s not thirty for real. She only looks thirty.”

  Connie melted. “Aw, that’s so sweet. Thank you.”

  Buck was impressed with the older man’s political savvy. He had said exactly the right thing.

  She put her fingernails back on his Hawaiian shirt, signifying their friendly sparring was at an end, but her sympathetic touch immediately reminded him of Garth again.

  Come on, son, check in.

  “All I know is, I didn’t realize truck stops were this elaborate,” Connie continued to the group. “I’m going to have to remember this place when I write a book about my journey. It really does have everything a normal person needs.”

  Buck focused on chewing his burger while she discussed her background and writing career with the others. He’d already heard her backstory. However, he couldn’t help but notice people running to the front counter of the restaurant and waving others to check it out.

  Danger, Buck. Danger.

  He put down the greasy slab. “Hey, guys. Look.”

  Everyone turned to the front where Buck motioned.

  Beans dropped his knife and fork on his half-eaten plate of ribs with evident frustration. “We finally get a decent meal, and something else goes wrong.”

  “Hang tough, Beans,” Buck replied. “I’m going to check it out.”

  Connie stood with him. “Me too.”

  He smiled, glad she was anxious to stick by his side.

  They went to the front of the restaurant together. He let her lead because she was better able to cut through the onlookers. She directed him to the far-right edge of the serving counter where the crowd was thinnest.

  An old-style boombox radio sat on the shelf where meals were staged before going out to diners. The staff was huddled around it, listening to the news.

  “We say again, Network 5 has learned from two sources that Malmstrom Air Force Base has been placed on lockdown. This site is important because it controls Minuteman III intercontinental ballistic missiles.”

  “Oh, no,” Connie blurted.

  One of the other truckers smiled at her. “No shit. This is heavy-duty fucked up.” The guy noticed Buck’s rifle and grenade shirt. “Nice shirt, man.”

  “Thanks,” Buck replied, smiling to Connie.

  “Is this happening in our time?�
�� Buck asked the man. He’d heard enough out-of-time radio broadcasts to be wary.

  “Yep, it is happening right now,” one of the restaurant managers replied. “The hotel staff is watching this on television, and they called over here to let us know.”

  “What does it mean?” Connie quietly asked Buck.

  “I don’t know, but we’ve got to get back out there so we can drive on.”

  He and Connie backed away from the radio, but when Buck turned around, he was face-to-face with a few other drivers who had the same idea as him.

  First movers.

  He nodded at one of the white-bearded truckers, who returned the gesture. The man then walked away at high speed, but he shoved another guy, who dropped a plate on the hard floor. The plate breaking and clink of silverware made everyone aware that something was amiss.

  Connie waved to get Sparky’s and the other convoy drivers’ attention. Buck twirled his finger in the air to signal that it was time to spin up the engines and go. Beans and the others stood as one, which undoubtedly compounded the confusion in the room. Several others who had been listening to the radio now gestured or shouted for their associates to get up and leave.

  Panic rippled through the restaurant as the news spread. Truckers and travelers sprang from their seats, tipped over chairs, and ran for the doors. His team was on the move, too.

  “Go!” he yelled to Connie.

  Eleven

  Georgetown, Delaware

  “C’mon, car, don’t fail me now.” Garth let up on the gas, hoping it would get them farther down the road.

  “Why is your tacks-see behaving this way?”

  He sighed with frustration. “I told you, it needs gas. It’s a liquid, and it goes in the red container we bought.” The gas can tumbled around the back seat. “I need to find a place that sells it.”

  “What does it look like? Perhaps I’ll spy one on my own.”

  How to describe a gas station?

  “There are pumps on the ground, like big boxes lined up next to each other with hoses sticking out of one side. It usually has a large shelter over it, like a flat metal tent.”

  She seemed satisfied and began to look around, but there was nothing besides trees. Since they left the Dollar Palace, it had seemed like they were driving away from civilization rather than toward it.

  “It has to be soon, or we’ll have to pull over.” No good could come of parking on the side of the road in a taxi missing a window. The weather was much better, so people were out. People meant trouble. Plus, the looters had already seen the taxi. If they came along in their box truck full of stolen goods, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine them pulling over to look for more contraband in an abandoned vehicle.

  I have to do something.

  The car sputtered again as they came around a curve through the woodlands. He spotted a small gravel driveway off to the side of the road, so he decided to take a chance.

  “We’ll pull off,” he declared.

  He turned downhill into a long driveway, and the motor died on the way. After a slight bend in the path, it came out at the side of an old log cabin. Garth guided the dead car as far as he could, but it ran out of momentum about fifty feet from the isolated house.

  “They’ll help us,” she said in a comforting voice.

  He gripped the wheel, contemplating them being at the mercy of whoever was inside the wooden shack. When no one came out or shifted the drapes of the windows, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

  “I don’t think anyone is home.”

  “In my time, it is not that unusual to pay visits to neighbors or spend the night with strangers. People are very friendly, usually. They’ll give you some food and a place to stay for the night.”

  He chuckled. “Things aren’t like that anymore. If these people were home, they might have come out with a shotgun to tell us to get lost. Dad taught me never to open the door for strangers. If someone came to the door asking to use the phone, I was supposed to tell them I’d make the call for them if they’d give the number.”

  He’d tested that advice with the visitor ringing the bell back at Sam’s house.

  “You are talking about your phone?” She pointed to his pants pocket.

  “Yes, and he also said ten times out of ten, those people will run away before you get to the phone because they are scammers and jagoffs.”

  “Jagoffs? I like that.”

  “It’s not polite. I don’t think we’re supposed to use it.”

  She smiled, and he thought she was going to push him to explain it. He was glad she didn’t. His dad used the word a lot, and he thought he knew where it came from, but he wasn’t sure he could explain it. He wondered if bad words were similar in the 1840s.

  “Let’s get the can and walk to find a gas station. With a little luck, we can be back here before anyone comes home.”

  His dilemma was what to do with the stuff in the trunk. If he got out and hid the guns, anyone laying low inside the house would see him and maybe go snoop for them. If he left them in the car, he took a risk that someone would happen along and break in.

  “I’m happy to walk with you, though I prefer the comfort of this.” She patted the leather seat.

  “Me too. Once we get some gas, we can make good time and get far away. Maybe all the way to my house.”

  “I would like that. At least one of us can reach home.”

  He heard the anguish in her voice, even though she probably hadn’t intended to reveal those feelings. She was as far from home as anyone could be.

  Garth reached over and patted her shoulder to console her. “One step at a time. Gas is what we need now, so let’s go get it, okay?”

  She smiled, but her watery green eyes betrayed her deeper feelings.

  “Come on,” he insisted with as light a touch as possible.

  “I’m coming,” she replied with resolve.

  He dropped the keys in his pocket but didn’t bother locking the car. One window was permanently open, so there was no way to secure it. Speed was his best defense, and it was also the reason he opted to leave the gun case in the trunk. Someone could be hiding inside, or someone could accidentally come down the drive, as he’d done.

  It was a roll of the dice either way.

  “Garth, I understand your words, but I also saw them refuse to sell you this gas you need. Why are they going to sell it to you just because of a little red container?”

  He smiled because he’d been thinking through that very problem.

  “Come on, and I’ll show you.”

  Ramstein Air Base, Germany

  “Gentlemen, welcome to the Fox.”

  Phil strode up to the six-wheeled armored vehicle with the other men in the unit. He carried a regulation M4 rifle and all the mags he could stuff in a pack. While he loaded up on gear, he’d also found a set of clean BDUs, so he felt like a proper soldier again. He transferred his rank tab and his hook and loop shoulder patches but could do nothing about the name tape. He hoped the group didn’t think of him as Sargent, the unfortunate name attached by the uniform’s previous owner.

  Ethan spoke like a used car salesman. “The Mercedes-Benz V-8 liquid-cooled diesel can spit out 320 horsepower without sneezing. This ugly monster was upgraded with the Military Operations in Urban Terrain or MOUT package. Reinforced hull. Spall liner. Everything to keep your privates safe from external hazards.”

  The multicolored camouflage paint and its battered appearance made it look as if it had recently come back from duty in a dense forest.

  One of the soldiers leaned against the hull. “This is a fine piece, sir, but why are we driving German armor and not a good ol’ Stryker? Doesn’t this mission rate a Bradley with a twenty-five-mike-mike bolted on top?”

  The other colonel slapped the hull of the German-engineered armored vehicle. “Guys, I’ll be straight up with you. The US Army is in full-on bug-out mode. They’re heading for home.”

  “Sir?”

  “Anything not b
olted down is making its way to Antwerp, Rotterdam, and Hamburg to get on a boat. They’re cycling everyone stateside, including us when we wrap up this mission. We were lucky to get this thing from the Germans, although you’ve already noticed it doesn’t have any external armaments.”

  Phil raised his hand, and Ethan nodded to him. “We have to make time on paved roads. A Bradley would be fine for any mission except highway driving. This hideous thing will get us there as fast as possible.”

  The others nodded but were unsure of the mission.

  “Plus,” Phil added, “the seats are comfortable.” He had trained with one during a joint military exercise.

  Ethan pulled at the rear door, and it sprang open like a jaw. The bottom half flipped down to become a ramp with steps, and the top half became an overhead shield.

  “Stop your bitching. This is what we’ve got. We’re going to drive south, punch across the Swiss border at Basel, then see what’s shaking in Geneva. This is Task Force Blue 7. We’ve got an important mission to accomplish, and we’ll do it in a Yugo if we have to. Understood?”

  “Hooah!” they said in near-unison.

  “Load up, monkey asses, and let’s get this over with.”

  Phil climbed in. It was like walking into a dank cave because of the cramped quarters and humidity trapped inside. The passenger compartment contained two rows of five front-facing seats, with two additional seats up front for the driver and navigator. He sat at the front of the passenger compartment next to Ethan and settled in.

  One of the enlisted sealed the back door.

  Two seconds later, guys started coughing like they were dying.

  Holy shit! he thought. The Fox was outfitted with nuclear, biological and chemical-scrubbing hardware, but maybe the hardware had failed?

  Phil spun around to find the guys laughing.

  “Jackson just shit his pants, sir. We’re going to need the air filters kicked on high.”

  He smelled it, too, coughing once and covering his face with a sleeve.

  “It’s going to be a long six hours,” he said under his breath.