Seconds passed, and the whole time he was sure he’d be the one they chose to off because he’d made the mistake of being close to them when the robbery was in progress.
Sorry, Dad. I let you down.
His eyes were closed as he waited, but a red flash came out of nowhere. It was exactly like the one he had suffered minutes earlier when he fell. Fortunately, this time he was already on the ground.
Other people gasped and whined as the uneasy feeling struck to him, but Garth opened his eyes when a girl screamed outside by the pumps. It sounded a lot like Lydia.
If he was going to get shot, he figured it wouldn’t matter if he looked up, so he gave it a try.
“They’re gone!” he shouted as he sprang to his feet. The two black-suited men were messing around with his spray-painted taxi. Lydia stood outside her car door like they’d kicked her out.
One of the baseball players sniffled. “What’s happening to my brain?”
He was unconcerned with the people inside the store. Without a gun, Garth couldn’t exactly swoop in like a hero to save Lydia, but he wasn’t going to stand inside while she was out there.
“He got up,” a woman exclaimed from her prone position next to the soda fountain.
“Don’t do it, dude,” the other baseball player cautioned as soon as Garth went to the door.
He glanced at the boy. “That’s my friend. She needs help.”
“She’s gonna die,” the kid said fearfully.
When he stormed outside, the gangsters were already on the run toward McDonald’s. One carried the sack of cash like a little laundry bag while the other followed. They wove in and out of cars in the drive-through lane, then went around the building, out of his field of view.
He sprinted over to Lydia, who remained outside the cab.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Lydia watched the men run too, but when she saw Garth, she pulled him in for a big hug. “Yes. I’m glad you’re here. Those two men jumped into your tack-see and tried to drive it away, but they seemed to have trouble starting it. They asked me for help, but I didn’t know anything, so they pushed me out. Then we all had that red zapping feeling, and they left your car screaming.”
Two goons from the 1920s apparently had no idea how to operate a modern vehicle. It had taken him a few tries when he had started it in Sam’s backyard, too, until he figured out he needed to put his foot on the brakes to get the motor to turn over.
He had only himself to blame for even giving them a chance to steal his ride. Garth had left the keys in the ignition because it didn’t occur to him someone would jump in, but that was one more box to tick off his safety list in the future.
“They stole money from the store and from some of us customers,” Garth added. “They pointed guns at us, and made us lay on the floor so they could escape.” He squeezed her tight after realizing her closeness made his warp-speed heartbeat decelerate back to normal.
“Did they get your money?”
He laughed, finally feeling safe. “No, but they took my wallet and phone. I keep my money in this little pocket.” He pointed to the tiny pouch of his jeans above his right-front pocket. “My friend Sam taught me to keep my big bills in there because the pick-pockets on the subway couldn’t get their grubby fingers inside. So far, it’s worked like a charm.”
“Your friend Sam sounds very wise,” she said with awe.
“Wise? I guess he’s wise in his own way. Most of his knowledge goes to getting into trouble, however. He loves to goof off.”
“You mean play?”
“Yeah. Goof. Play. But always in a good way. He’s a good guy.” He wondered where Sam and his parents were at that moment.
Garth stood there with Lydia while other patrons came out of the store and got into their cars. He fully expected the police to show up at any minute, and he wanted to be out of there in case they wondered how he had ended up with the stolen taxi.
“We’ve got a full tank of gas, two hundred dollars, and a thousand miles ahead of us. You ready?”
She pulled away but stood close. “Two hundred dollars? You truly are John Jacob Astor. My pa worked his whole life to save enough for a yoke of oxen and a wagon, and it wasn’t that much. He would have guarded it with his life. Here you are with an even larger amount in your pocket.”
Her green eyes shimmered, and for a moment he reveled in how she looked up to him, but he couldn’t pretend to be rich.
“Remind me to explain inflation to you. I learned about it in school. Basically, two hundred bucks isn’t that much money today. I couldn’t buy a yoke of oxen or a wagon with this money. In fact, I don’t even know if it will be enough to get us where we need to go.”
He realized he’d need to cut back on the McDonald’s, Mountain Dew, and other treats. The only priority was gas to get him to his dad.
“All right, saddle up.” He stepped back, intending to go around the car, but she wasn’t moving.
“What?” he asked.
“Why did you say that? We have no horses.”
Garth smiled. “It’s an expression. I guess it comes from your time, actually. It means we need to get in our car, and make like a tree and leave.”
Her puzzled look continued. “A tree?”
“I’m sorry. It’s another expression. I swear I’m not trying to confuse you. It’s the way I talk. We really do need to get out of here.”
After thinking about it, her eyes lit up. “Because a tree has leaves! I understand.”
She was laughing hard by the time they were both in their seats.
“We’ve got to be close to Interstate 64, then we don’t stop until we reach my dad.”
He sped out of the gas station.
“We’ve got to find him before he becomes a tree and leaves.”
She’s trying.
They shared a laugh, content for a moment to be alive.
I-80, Cheyenne, Wyoming
Buck expected to black out the entire time he headed for Cheyenne. He talked a good game to Connie, and he hoped his plan of keeping the rig on cruise control would work, but he feared it wouldn’t be enough. When he saw the Welcome to Cheyenne billboard, he let out a huge sigh.
“We made it,” he declared.
Connie had been studying the atlas, but when she looked up and saw the sign, she reached over and held his arm. “Good driving, bucko. You got us here.”
“Thanks. Now all we have to do is get beyond this upcoming interchange.” I-25 and I-80 met a couple of miles ahead, and the news reports said 25 was closing down from Cheyenne to Fort Collins, which was inside the zone already closed off north of Denver.
Buck got on the CB. “We’re going into Cheyenne. Look alive, people.”
Connie tapped the glass of her window, pointing outside. “I’m so sick of this grass. Isn’t there anything interesting in this entire state?”
The patchy green grass went from horizon to horizon. There were a few antelopes eating near the fence line of the highway, and far to the south he glimpsed the peaks of the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, but between those two features, there was absolutely nothing.
“Up north you get mountains and cool stuff like Yellowstone, but down here, no. It’s boring as hell. But don’t worry,” he added with thick sarcasm, “we’ll get much more of this in Nebraska.”
“Ugh. I always thought Wyoming was high adventure and big mountains.”
“Every state has its flaws,” he replied.
“Not New Mexico,” she insisted. “It has mountains, deserts, caves, and wonderful forests. It basically has everything.”
He risked a glance to see her joy at thinking about her state. She caught him looking and smiled.
“We’re here,” he said, changing the subject.
The north-south I-25 highway crossed I-80 on a pair of bridges above them. Police cars blocked the on-ramp, so he couldn’t have gone south on the other highway even if he wanted to.
“Looks like we can go right under it,�
�� he explained. “I was worried they’d want to block traffic down here, too. So they wouldn’t be seen.”
“Why would it matter?” she wondered.
“If we knew what was going south…” As soon as he said it, he had a new thought.
He scrambled for the CB as they drove past the black police cruiser. “Guys, I need you to keep going to Sidney, Nebraska. That’s our stop point for tonight. I, uh, have to make a quick pit stop under this bridge, but I’m not out of service.”
“10-4, Buck,” Sparky replied. “Eve and I will hold a parking spot for you at the truck stop.”
Monsignor jumped on when he could. “I’ll see you there, too. You’ve gotten us through some tight scrapes. Glad to return the favor and save you a spot.”
“Thanks, guys,” he answered.
Buck applied the brakes and pulled to the shoulder of the highway, then guided the truck under the bridge carrying the southbound lanes of I-25. He continued on, parking under the bridge for the northbound lanes of the other highway.
“Buck? I see the look in your eyes. You’re excited about something.”
He put his finger over his lips. “Shh. We’re going Marine Recon for a minute. You get Mac on a leash and get him to do his business. I’m putting out some triangles.”
The evening air was cool, especially in the shade under the bridge. While Connie dutifully walked Big Mac around, he placed three orange warning triangles about a hundred yards behind his trailer so other drivers wouldn’t run into him.
To any onlooker, he had broken down.
He and Connie rejoined after both their tasks were complete. Buck got down on one knee and gave his pup a vigorous head and neck scratch. “You’re a good boy. Yes, you are!”
Mac leaned against him, wanting more.
Cars and trucks sped under the bridge, but traffic was light for the most part. He listened as he gave Mac more loving.
“What are we waiting for?” Connie asked after realizing Buck wasn’t getting up.
“Vehicles up above,” he said quietly. “They just closed the highway up there, which probably means something is about to go by.”
“And you want to see what it is,” she declared with skepticism.
“We’re here, so I figured it was worth a look. Aren’t you the least bit interested to see why they closed the highway up and down the whole state?”
She considered it. Another big rig flew by, blowing her hair almost sideways on her head, but once it was gone, the underpass became quiet.
Not long after, there was a distinct rumbling on the roadway above them.
“There! I was right. Those bastards are coming through right now.”
“Who is it?”
He stood and took her hand. “Let’s find out.”
Together, the three of them went up the concrete incline and came out between the parallel bridges of Interstate 25. The northbound lanes were empty in both directions, and the southbound lanes were empty to the south, but a line of vehicles was coming over the bridge, heading south as they got up there.
“Got ya!” he bragged.
“What the hell is that thing in the front?” she asked.
The lead vehicle was a six-wheeled military monstrosity. It was painted desert tan, had the aerodynamics of a shipping container, and had a crane-arm on top of the superstructure. Its huge knobby tires purred on the pavement as it crossed the bridge.
“It’s called a… Well, shit, you’ll never believe this. That is known as a Buffalo. I saw these on my second deployment. They were shipped over because they couldn’t be destroyed by IEDs or mines.”
“Oh, I believe anything these days. What is it doing here?”
A miles-long procession of military vehicles followed the lone Buffalo. Humvees and light tactical vehicles were near the front, but heavier machines were in the distance.
“They’re going to a party,” he said dryly.
“What does it all mean? Why did they shut the highway down for all these military people? Is this an invasion?”
“No,” he replied quickly. “These are all American. Those are US Army vehicles.”
The noise amped up as tan Humvees passed their position. Buck ducked lower at the edge of the tall grass, unsure if they would be spotted but unable to turn away. Somehow, he knew an important event was taking place, although he had no idea what it was.
He stuck his head as high as he dared to get a look at what else was coming up the highway.
“Paladins! I think I see tanks on flatbeds, too. Christ. They aren’t fucking around.”
Mac pulled at his leash, sending Connie on a brief slide back down the concrete slope. “Buck, I think he’s scared. Let’s get him out of here.”
He didn’t want to leave. The military tactician in him wanted to stay and count vehicles until he knew for sure how big this convoy was. He’d put the numbers together and had been right about what was coming down the roadway and where it was going, but he was left dangling when it came to the why of it.
Walk away, Buck. You have more important things to worry about.
He looked down at Connie sliding on her butt with his retriever at her side. The young pup was whining and making it clear he wanted to get away from the noisy highway. Being in the cab of the Peterbilt was one thing for the dog, but being out in the wind and road noise was too much.
He started down the slope and easily caught up.
“Yeah, let’s go. We’ll catch up with our friends. Get hold of Garth, and get a few hours of sleep.” Part of him wanted to skip sleep completely, but he knew that was folly. He intended to be back on the road to Garth before the sun came up.
“Separate beds?” she said in an enigmatic tone.
“Well, I don’t want to run out of money, actually. I was thinking of sleeping in the cab tonight.” He paused for a second to see what she’d say, but he decided to be a gentleman about it. “I’ll sleep in my seat. It folds all the way back. You and Mac can have the bed.”
“I see,” she replied dryly.
European Laboratory for Particle Physics (CERN), Switzerland
Phil expected Ethan to hear that the power-down worked from HQ, but the look on the colonel’s face said otherwise. Phil had spent almost half his life in the service, often in theaters with active conflict, and knew the disappointment of mission failure intimately.
“Grafton can’t raise Ramstein,” Ethan said to him once they were away from Dr. Eli. “I don’t want him to know we’re having problems, but we have to find out if this worked. Any ideas?”
“Don’t suppose you have a satellite phone?”
Ethan shook his head. “I even tried my disposable cell. Nothing.”
The Army didn’t allow him to take anything personal on missions, but he often took disposable phones, for emergency use only. Ethan apparently did the same.
“We could have Dr. Eli make a call to SNAKE from his desk. That might be the quickest way. You might get billed for the call, though.” He smiled at Ethan to get him to lighten up. Nothing could ruin an op worse than losing your temper, and the other officer seemed frazzled at being out of contact with his superiors.
“No. I don’t trust him. How would we know it was really who he said it was? I think we—”
Ethan froze mid-sentence, and his eyeballs turned up in his head like he was having a seizure.
“What the…” Static energy filled the air, crackling around him and making his hair stand on end. Then nausea and dizziness struck like a baseball bat to the stomach, knocking him off his feet. A blue aura filled his vision as he sped toward the tiled floor.
He passed out the instant before he hit the deck.
Twenty-Seven
Search for Nuclear, Astrophysical, and Kronometric Extremes (SNAKE). Red Mesa, Colorado
Faith didn’t check to see if General Smith had survived the blast. The noble general didn’t do things halfway. He wasn’t trying to save himself; he thought he was saving the world. He had carried the backp
ack as far as he could in those few seconds, and probably cradled it to absorb as much of the blast as possible.
His only goal had been preserving the Four Arrows cabinet, and in that he was successful. Even through the choking smoke in the tunnel, Faith confirmed that the blue beam still came out of the metal box, presumably maintaining one last link between SNAKE and CERN.
“Thank you, sir,” she got out between unwanted sobs. “I’ll tell everyone you were a hero.”
She tried to get her breathing under control. The dead man was on the floor, not far from the box. He was right where she had killed him. But the general had decided that his life and the life of the bomber were fair payment to stop the destruction of the Four Arrows device.
Because Faith had convinced him not to destroy it.
“And I still exist,” she said in a dreamy voice. She assumed one of the bombs had severed the collider ring, which would cut off the flow of energy as certainly as removing all the boxes. However, the general had detonated his backpack away from the collider, and the other two explosions must also have avoided destroying the circle.
I won’t know until I get back.
She rang Security on the emergency phone and begged them to hurry out to her, but it took two hours for a rescue team to arrive. She went up the steps of the fire exit and met them on a narrow two-track maintenance path in the woods.
The facilities man drove her back to the main office, but that took another hour. By the time she walked into the administration wing, she hardly recognized the place.
“Faith!” Bob ran up and looked like he was going to give her a hug. Instead, he chucked her on the shoulder. “I can’t believe you made it. We saw the two explosions on the cameras, and we saw you and the general blast through those stations on the maglev like you were going for the land speed record.”
The hours of waiting had given her plenty of time to work through her sorrow at the general’s loss. She was already numb. “Is the collider totaled?”
“No,” he exclaimed. “The blasts destroyed a lot of the spare equipment in each station, but the charges were designed to eliminate the boxes, not the heavier metal infrastructure of the ring. Those magnets are like armor around it.”
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