End of Days | Book 5 | Beyond Alpha

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “You can come up here!” the man shouted.

  Faith took a few seconds to look around. She didn’t judge herself important enough to require a conspiracy from Strauss, but it did seem as if the general had used Faith’s absence to her advantage. The time had given her a chance to build defenses around SNAKE and its big parking lot. Besides the two tanks, which were imposing enough, the dozers had rearranged the smashed civilian vehicles so they created a crude wall on each side of the tanks. There was no way to drive around them.

  “Whatever happens,” she whispered, “we have to get inside and make our friends aware of what’s going on. Strauss isn’t just here to take over our facility. She looks like she’s serious about keeping our new friends out.”

  “You didn’t think she would?” Missy asked with surprise. “I thought she made that pretty clear.”

  “I didn’t think she was bunging it on, but I figured she’d cool off if I stayed away all night.”

  Missy looked at her blankly.

  “Oh, sorry. I go back to my Aussie roots with slang when I’m nervous. It means I didn’t think she was pretending to be mad.”

  “Right,” Missy replied. “She doesn’t seem like the type to fake her anger.”

  “Well, let’s get this over with,” she said, re-starting the golf cart.

  When Faith got close, the soldier raised his arm again.

  She stopped a few feet short of him.

  “We’re from SNAKE. We went out last night on General Strauss’s orders.”

  The man gave her a brief once-over as if to confirm she wasn’t a threat. Not surprisingly, he quickly gave up, correctly assuming she had no weapons and did not present the slightest threat to him or his friends. “Let me call it in.”

  “Seriously?” she complained.

  The man stopped mid-step.

  She regained control of her emotions. “Sorry. I’ve been up all night. All I want to do is get back to my office and sleep.”

  The soldier walked behind the tank on the left, leaving her and Missy under the withering scrutiny of the other five soldiers at the roadblock. She kept her hand high on the steering wheel, remembering something her father had taught her decades ago.

  “When the boys in blue show up, make sure they see your hands on the steering wheel the whole time.”

  It was a lesson she had only needed to draw upon a few times in her life.

  The soldier came back around. “All right. I’ve got word that you have been permanently banned from the Alpha Site, ma’am. You’ll have to turn around and leave.”

  Missy hopped sideways out of the cart. “What about me?”

  “Are you Doctor Faith Sinclair?” he snarked.

  “No.”

  “And you work here?” he went on.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I guess you can come in. My orders only say to keep out this woman.” He pointed at Faith.

  Missy came around the back of the cart, so Faith had to turn around to meet her.

  “I’ll let them know inside,” she whispered. “Like you said.”

  It was the right thing to do, but it cut deep to see Missy abandon her so fast. Still, she had to be professional about it.

  “Good plan,” she said evenly. “Please make sure Donald is okay. I feel terrible for not checking on him sooner.”

  “I will,” Missy assured her.

  After a brief hug, Missy walked through the checkpoint without another look back.

  She was left facing the men. “Can I take my cart?”

  “Do whatever you want with it. Just don’t leave it there, or we’ll have to impound it.”

  “Why would I do that, arse?” she mumbled.

  “What did you say?” the main guard asked.

  “I said I wish this thing had an air conditioner.” She snickered.

  The man didn’t seem to appreciate the joke. The golf cart didn’t have a top or windows or doors or walls, so of course it didn’t have an AC. She thought it was funny.

  Once she had the cart facing the other way, she stepped on the pedal and slowly accelerated away from the tanks. She kept up the speed as she rounded the corner and zipped past the soldiers doing soldier-y stuff out in the woods, but she put the brakes on when she approached a small gravel road on her left side.

  “Let’s see how thorough the general really is,” she said to the wind.

  The cart’s drive tire spun a little on the gravel as she kept her foot mashed down. She only went ten or fifteen miles per hour in the little cart, but the freedom made it feel like a hundred. All she had to do was use the service road to sneak around the roadblock; then she’d be able to enter SNAKE from the delivery docks or one of the many emergency exits.

  She had it all figured out as she drove.

  That is, until she went around another corner in the thick forest.

  “Fuck! It’s been donkey’s years since I’ve caught a break.”

  A lone tank blocked the road ahead.

  The general had been more thorough than Faith expected.

  Several soldiers waved her in.

  “Get out of the vehicle!”

  “Stand aside!”

  “Who are you?”

  She was locked out.

  Above Alpha Site

  He’d overheard the other soldiers jokingly call them detainees, but Phil was almost as much of a detainee as those poor souls gathered in the group he’d been guarding. He hadn’t spoken to anyone since Specialist Hana Blazkowitz had come through with the food drop the evening before. The rest of the guards seemed content to let him wander around and observe since they seldom spoke to each other and never to him. He figured his uniform and rifle put him on the table of organization and equipment, same as everyone else on the blue team. Still, he couldn’t doze off or wander too far from Garth, or the kid would likely try to make another run for it. It wasn’t like he could ask a buddy to keep an extra eye on the boy.

  He crouched behind a tree and pulled out his small handheld. “Task Force Blue 7, are you out there?”

  Static played on the small speaker.

  “Anyone from TF Blue 7 left out there?”

  He’d communicated with Grafton and MacIntire the day before, but he hadn’t heard from either in the hours since. Militarily, he was angry to lose contact with both since they were his eyes and ears around what he was tentatively calling the enemy base. Personally, however, he hated the thought of his two buddies being captured or hurt. Or dead.

  Phil gulped hard.

  “C’mon, guys. If you can hear my voice, check in as soon as you can.” He turned the volume way down so if either of them did respond, it wouldn’t draw attention. Then he stowed the radio and headed back toward the detainees.

  “You there!” one of the lieutenants barked.

  “Me?” Phil replied with surprise.

  “Yes, you. Scout ahead for the next group. I want it clear all the way to the lot.” The leader had gathered a handful of detainees, but a spot check ensured Garth and Lydia weren’t among them. As much as he wanted to stay behind with the larger group, he knew it was futile to refuse a direct order without ruining his cover.

  “On it,” he replied in a businesslike voice.

  As he walked toward the outbound group, he stowed his name and rank patches in his front pocket. Refusing the order would be bad for him, but disclosing his real rank would lead to questions. It would be easier to explain their absence than convince them a lieutenant colonel was supposed to be wandering out in the woods on guard duty.

  Phil walked point once he ensured the others were behind him.

  Gaps in the undergrowth took him to a tamped-down footpath. Since the man had asked him to go to the lot, he assumed he should turn left toward the same parking lot he and Garth had seen the night before. They didn’t have far to go.

  Since there were three long rows of tractor-trailers, he was forced to wait at the edge of the lot until told where to go. He stood with his weapon out as if expecting
trouble.

  The lieutenant advised as he arrived, “Put that away…uh…”

  “Sergeant Baker, sir.” No one would believe a man his age wasn’t high in the ranks, but he didn’t want to outrank the leaders or they’d immediately know he was lying since they’d been put in charge of the outfit. It was already a risk saying any name, but he had to say something.

  “What’s up with your uniform?” the lieutenant spoke with a distinct Eastern European accent. “Why are you wearing that old thing?”

  Six or seven of the time nomads were corralled by two extra guards in the back. They all stood in a messy cluster not far from Phil as if unsure what to make of the leader’s interaction with him.

  “I’ve been on extended duty, sir, getting this place ready for your arrival.” He tried to laugh in a carefree way, noting the man’s name tape revealed a long Polish word he would never be able to pronounce. “I haven’t had a shower in a week, either.”

  The man took a step back as if the stink would jump on him. He appraised Phil for a few extra seconds, then acted as if he couldn’t be bothered with details such as why a soldier named Baker had escaped his notice for so long. “Just go over to the tents and stay away from me.”

  Phil turned to where he’d been directed and saw two white tents fluttering in the light breeze. They were close to where he and Garth had witnessed the blue glow, but they were placed so he couldn’t see around them from his vantage point.

  “Affirmative,” he answered, glad to get on the move.

  As he walked, he thought again about his missing men. If Grafton and MacIntire were there, they could easily overpower the careless guards and get some answers about what was going on. The problem he faced was he still didn’t know if the men were keeping the group of oddballs safe or if there was an evil purpose behind it all.

  The blowing tents up ahead seemed to beckon him with answers.

  Despite his orders, he held fast to his weapon.

  He wasn’t afraid to use it again.

  Road to Colorado Springs

  Buck drove the road for about fifteen minutes after passing through the shallow stretch next to the shore. They’d been driving for over thirty minutes, and he figured the edge of Colorado Springs had to appear at any second.

  “Try the radio again,” he requested.

  Connie pressed the button. “This is convoy calling Faith. Come in, Faith. We need any update you can give us on Garth. Over.”

  “I’m never leaving my son again,” he said, his voice reflective. “I don’t trust anyone to look out for him.”

  She glanced at the radio before turning to him. “Buck, dear, you know that’s silly. Our boys grow up. They find their way. And yes, they get into trouble.”

  “Not like this,” he countered. “I’m trying to be patient, but she’s had plenty of time to golf cart her way back to her base and get us some answers. We should know something by now.”

  “Do you want to go back?” she asked, her voice full of empathy.

  Mac nuzzled his arm. Buck could sense the dog wasn’t searching for lovings at that moment; he was trying to comfort one of his humans. Buck’s voice had been elevated and probably sounded stressed.

  “I’m fine,” he muttered. “I’m trying to keep in mind your son is watching over mine, but I don’t react well when someone doesn’t stick to the plan. Faith seemed like a competent woman. I really expected her to get us answers.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve got to let her work.” Connie reached over. “Who knows what conditions she’s dealing with? It might be hard to find the general. You know how those military types can be.”

  He glanced at her and her big smile.

  “Yes, we can be impatient sons of bitches. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

  Ahead, right on time, he saw a few homes peeking over a rise.

  “I’m sure you will.” She chuckled.

  Their laughter lasted for about ten seconds.

  A vibration ran up the steering column.

  “What the hell?” he blurted.

  Connie noticed it a second later.

  “Car trouble?” she asked.

  “No,” he replied. “It’s from outside.”

  Mac turned and hopped onto the bed.

  He put on the brakes.

  The shaking got worse.

  “Hang on!” he shouted.

  Eleven

  Above Alpha Site

  The floor of the forest shook below Garth.

  “What’s this?” Lydia asked with concern.

  “It could be an earthquake,” he answered, not sure. Staten Island, where he’d grown up, wasn’t earthquake country, but he’d seen enough movies to recognize it.

  Some of the time nomads scrambled as if the world was ending. Again.

  The tremor subsided after fifteen or twenty seconds. It left some standing frozen around him as if they’d been caught between running for their lives or copping a squat.

  “We’re cool,” he said to those nearby.

  The rumble didn’t feel any worse than being in his dad’s truck when he ran over some rough road. A couple of rattles and a roll, then all was good. He tried to play it off as if he’d done it a thousand times.

  Lydia was the opposite.

  “Garth, what should we do if it comes back?”

  “Nothing you can do, I guess. We can’t exactly hug a wall like back in those high school tornado drills.”

  “I’ve never felt anything like that,” she said with more confidence in her voice. “I’m glad we’re going through this together, though.”

  He didn’t know how to respond since he didn’t know what they were going through. Was the area known for earthquakes? Would there be more? Was there anywhere truly safe during an earthquake? As it was, they were surrounded by hundred-foot-high trees which could fall and crush them at any time.

  “Me too,” he finally answered.

  The shaking hadn’t brought back the people the guards had taken earlier. He kept watch in the direction they’d gone, expecting them to return at any second, but there was still no sign of them.

  A final rumble rushed through the forest, sending a few more people off their feet.

  “An aftershock,” he said, hoping his study of movies had paid off.

  Lydia hadn’t scrambled during the second tremor.

  “I guess it could be a volcano.” His breath caught in his throat, and he hastily searched the sky for a giant cloud of ash or a wall of magma. They’d watched a movie in class not long ago about rivers of molten magma as it destroyed homes in Hawaii. Were they in for the same fate?

  “What do you see?” she asked from her sitting position.

  “Nothing,” he assured her. “I only wanted to make sure I was wrong about that. I don’t see anything through the trees. If there is a volcano making those rumbles, it must be far away.”

  “Thank our luck,” the Jewish guy said from the next tree.

  “Yeah, I guess,” he said to the man, “but I’m already done with this journey. If they don’t let us go back to our friends by tonight, I think we should all march ourselves back down the mountain.”

  “Sure. Sure. That sounds great. This whole thing reminds me of waiting for my family and friends to get on that train over in Hamburg. They agonized for hours until they were finally released to board. This is what it feels like to me.”

  Garth’s stomach churned at what the guy had said. He was Jewish. He was from the 1930s in Germany. Was it too much of a stretch to imagine what the guy’s friends and family were doing boarding train cars? He’d learned about that in school, too.

  “I hope everything turned out okay for your friends.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it did,” Moshe answered in an easygoing tone. “The worst part was the boarding, I’m sure. They might even be sitting around talking about this world-ending event, just like we are.”

  Garth was certain he knew what Moshe was talking about, but it wasn’t his place to mention it. He couldn�
�t ask Lydia for her opinion either since she was almost a hundred years removed from it too.

  “Hey, what is your opinion of Adolph Hitler?” he asked.

  “Hmm. My opinion?” He thought about it for a bit, which made Garth wonder if the man was doing it ironically. It should have been a simple question. “I think I heard of him once. He was killed in a beer hall revolution a long time ago. I think he was in one of those socialist parties that never took off. I remember seeing his name in the newspaper when I was in school.”

  Garth sat up. “Are you pulling my leg?”

  Moshe laughed. “I’m way over here. How could I possibly?”

  He forgot modern idioms weren’t a thing for people from back in time. Or maybe the guy didn’t get out much. It was hard to know with him.

  “I mean, do you really not know about the Nazis? World War II? Didn’t Hitler load Jewish people onto rail cars to get rid of them? Isn’t that what happened to your family and friends?”

  Moshe yanked on his beard. “That’s preposterous. That would never happen in Germany. I was waiting for them to board the train which would take them to Bulgaria. They were going to Kibbutz Birkova, where our brothers and sisters work with fellow Jews from that foreign land.”

  “They weren’t going to—” Garth caught himself before mentioning any details of where Nazi trains in his timeline had gone. He’d also stopped because he realized the world had been shaken even worse than the little rumbles under his feet.

  It wasn’t only the geography that was now different.

  All of history had been rearranged.

  Road to Colorado Springs

  In all the times he’d laid down rubber up and down California, Buck had never been in a serious earthquake. However, he figured he knew enough to stay in his truck rather than go outside. With his streak of bad luck, he’d probably lose his footing and fall to the asphalt. No, it was far safer to ride it out in the cabin.

  But he stayed alert for any sinkholes that might seek to swallow them whole.

  The vibrations were a minor annoyance until a series blasted under his truck, bouncing the front tires like those crazy cars that hopped on custom air shocks. When the shaking dialed itself to eleven, he grabbed the steering wheel to keep his balance.