Deconstruction- The Complete series Box Set

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Deconstruction- The Complete series Box Set Page 81

by Rashad Freeman


  “Alistair! Wake up Goddamn it!” Chase roared. He brought his heavy mitt down across Alistair’s face and shook him.

  Alistair winced as the sun faded then burned stronger. He could feel the cold nipping at his heels and he ran harder, fearing the darkness would pull him back and he’d be lost forever.

  “Don’t you do this Alistair,” Chase said in a desperate tone. “Don’t you die.”

  Alistair skid to a stop at his words. This didn’t feel like death. Everything in front of him felt like life, it was the cold world he was leaving behind that felt like death. Yet, something told him he needed to go back.

  “Alistair please,” Chase moaned.

  Alistair felt a splash of rain fall onto his face. Blinking, he wiped it away then turned and glared back at the swirling storm clouds that were moving closer.

  “Wake up!” Chase shouted at the top of his voice.

  Alistair slowly opened his eyes to a blur that materialized into Chase. He shivered and sat up then took a deep breath.

  “What the hell dude?” Chase said in amazement.

  “What?”

  “I thought you were dead.”

  Alistair wrinkled his face and shook his head from side to side. “I’m fine. What time is it?”

  “It’s early. You ready to go?”

  “Yeah…yeah I’m ready.”

  Chase helped him up and he started to gather his things. He rolled up the blanket and tucked it inside of his bag then looked around the tent to make sure he wasn’t leaving something. Trying to shake off the uneasy feeling from his dream, he unzipped the tent and poked his head outside.

  The sun was back out and the glare nearly blinded him. He shielded his eyes with his arm then froze as he heard a branch snap just to his side.

  “What’s wrong? Chase asked.

  Alistair slowly lowered his arm and fixed his eyes on the barrel of the gun that was pointed at his head. He followed it upward, inch by inch, until he was staring its owner. A wave of anger swelled inside of him and he opened his mouth in shock.

  “I didn’t think they’d send you,” Koran said.

  CHAPTER 25

  BEFORE THE END

  Max glared at the screen in disbelief. He rubbed his eyes and blinked then pressed a few buttons on the keyboard and waited for the process to run again.

  “What’s wrong?” Cindy asked.

  “These…these numbers. They can’t be right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean they can’t be right. The size of this storm front, the level of seismic activity…it doesn’t make any sense. There’s extra numbers in everything.”

  Cindy didn’t say anything else. She stood behind him and stared at the screen as a string of useless numbers rushed by. She couldn’t make heads or tails from any of it. But judging by the look on Max’s face, it wasn’t anything good.

  Mumbling under his breath, Max banged on the monitor. He nervously waited for the sequence to run again, but he knew the result would be the same.

  “I don’t think that’s gonna fix it,” Cindy said and rubbed his shoulders.

  Maxed jumped as he felt her touch then scratched his head and relaxed back into his chair. “It shouldn’t look like this,” he said. “And I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “What is all this? What’s it supposed to look like?”

  “This is the daily updates we get from the satellites and automated weather stations that are still online. The coding is all wrong though.”

  “It all looks like nonsense to me.”

  “It is all nonsense. It’s not supposed to look like this. I’ve gotta let Craig know,” Max said. “I thought I’d fixed all the bugs, but this, this can’t be right.”

  He rolled the chair back and stood up. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and held it like he was diving to the bottom of the ocean. It seemed like everything he fixed broke something else. With a string of curse words under his breath, he turned and walked off.

  Cindy stood there for a moment then decided to follow him. He hadn’t said much to her since other people had arrived at the Mayflower and she felt out place most times. The truth of what she’d done to him was always hanging over her head, it was at the core of every conversation and the reason for every lingering stare. But he was there for her, he’d saved her life after everything she’d done to him. She prayed that at some point their tarnished past would be replaced with fonder memories and some day he’d look at her like he used to.

  “Everything okay?” Craig asked as he read the concern on Max’s face.

  He was sitting at a desk across from Jacob. They had a map spread out between them and looked overly concerned with one section.

  Max threw his arms up in surrender. “The daily is all out of whack,” he said in a droning voice.

  “Max, I’ve got missing kids, troops and agents in the field, and a small army probably on the way. No offense, but I don’t have time to fix a little bug or whatever you call them.”

  “I…I just thought it was something you should know. I’ve got weather coordinates and then lines of sevens and zeroes running across the screen. But don’t worry about it, I’ll deal with it myself.”

  Max spun around in annoyance and started to march back down the hall. Craig wrinkled his brow as Max’s words echoed in his head. He glanced at Jacob, dropping his jaw as they shared a worried look.

  “Wait!” Craig yelled after Max. “Lines of sevens and zeroes…you saw that on the screen?”

  “Yeah. It’s probably just an error in the code. Like I said, I’ll deal with it.”

  “Show it to me.”

  Max raised his eyebrows and shrugged then turned on his heels. Craig and Jacob followed him as he headed back to the monitoring station.

  “See,” he said and held his hand out. “Doesn’t matter how many times I run it…I get the same thing.”

  They all ogled the screen as a sequence of numbers rushed across. Craig leaned toward the monitor and placed his finger on the screen, counting the odd sequence of numbers with a nervous precision.

  “Jacob get me the book,” Craig ordered.

  “Already on it,” he replied and rushed away.

  “What the hell is going on?” Max asked as his face drowned in worry.

  “It’s a code,” Craig replied simply.

  “A what?”

  “A code. A way for back channel communications from the other sites.”

  “Back channel communications? What the fuck is going on?”

  Jacob rumbled into the room with a thick, black binder with papers spilling from the sides. He slammed it onto the table and flipped it open.

  “What’s the first sequence?” he asked with a shaky excitement in his voice.

  “Wait! Stop, what is happening right now?” Max asked.

  “I told you already,” Craig snapped as his patience thinned.

  “Why are we talking with other sites…what other sites? Why the hell am I just hearing about this?”

  “Damn it, Max! It was need to know!” Craig shouted then turned back to Jacob. “70070070, what do you have?”

  “United Kingdom,” Jacob replied.

  Max huffed angrily then took a seat and crossed his arms. Craig swallowed then grabbed a sheet of paper and started jotting down the other numbers that were embedded in the report.

  “What’s the message?” he asked and handed the paper to Jacob.

  Jacob hunkered down and flipped back and forth from the binder to the paper. He circled sections and compared them with other parts as he scribbled the translation down on the bottom of the page. After nearly ten minutes he looked up with a solemn gaze and handed the page back to Craig.

  Craig swallowed and bored into Jacob. Jacob tilted his head to the side and reluctantly nodded.

  “What?” Max growled, his agitated voice breaking with frustration.

  “That was a message from the British Intelligence Service. They were attacked by the Russians.”

>   “They’re still here?”

  “Yes, and that was an SOS. Their life support systems are failing.”

  “What can we do?” Max asked as he ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Nothing. Hope to God MJ and the others catch Koran before he gets word back or we’re gonna be in the same boat.”

  Jacob cleared his throat and pointed at another segment of numbers. “That’s from the French site…before they went offline,” he mumbled.

  “What? What is he talking about?” Max jabbed.

  “The Russians attacked the French site as well, but they weren’t so lucky. French site was completely destroyed and…”

  “What?”

  “They sent coordinates. The last position of the Russian ship. It’s in the North Atlantic.”

  Max let out a wicked laugh. “You got all of that from a bunch of zeroes?”

  “Isn’t that how all this shit works?” Craig asked sarcastically then sat down and dropped his head into his hands.

  “So, what’s the problem? I know they built that silo against my recommendations. I wanted another launching station and a second ship. But what we got is missiles and you’re telling me they just sent you a location. You blow that ship up and it doesn’t matter what Koran does.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yes, it is. Just press a button, or pull a trigger, or whatever it is. Blow them up.”

  “You don’t understand,” Jacob started. “The message was cut off, it didn’t finish. We don’t know if they’re moving or when those coordinates were good. We don’t know anything, and we have no way of finding out.”

  Max shrugged, and Jacob grumbled under his breath then continued.

  “Look, we could fire on them, but it would be blind.”

  “Isn’t that worth the risk?” Max asked in a sullen tone.

  Craig took a heavy sigh as he stood up and began pacing the room. “There’s more to it than that,” he said. “If we fire, they’ll know it. They would know exactly where we are.”

  “What if…” Jacob started then shook his head from side to side.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. It was nothing.”

  Max dropped his shoulders and let out a huff of air. “There, there’s gotta be something we can do.”

  “We can wait, wait and hope they send the rest of that message,” Craig replied.

  Max turned to Jacob and pleaded with his eyes. He had a desperate look on his face as he mouthed the words “say something.” Jacob looked away then held up his hands and walked off. Max stared after him angrily then turned back to Craig.

  “So, what now?”

  “Now…let me know when another message comes in,” Craig instructed.

  CHAPTER 26

  END OF THE LINE

  “Why don’t you and your friend crawl on out here,” Koran said and waved his gun. He leaned to the side, favoring his right leg where Hunter had shot him. Blood stained his khakis pants just below the make shift tourniquet and his thick, winter coat was ripped and caked in dirt. “Be quick about it,” he added.

  His voice was calm, but he had a menacing grimace on his face. Alistair swallowed and anxiously scuttled out of the tent. Chase followed him, stowing a pistol into his waistband at the small of his back.

  They clambered through the thin layer of snow and stood up, wincing as the sun pitched blinding rays of light between the scattered tree limbs. The early morning air nipped at their fingers and they immediately began to shiver.

  “Come on. Spread out,” Koran ordered and retreated until his back was pressed against a tree.

  Alistair slammed his jaw tight, fighting against the swell of anger that raged inside. He took a few steps to the left then glared at Koran with eyes of stone. Chase followed his lead and shot him a look of death and defiance.

  “I know why this one is grilling me,” Koran said and nodded his head toward Alistair. “But what’s your problem double stuff?”

  Chase sneered and straightened up to his full height. “He’s my friend asshole! And you killed his dad.”

  The words cut straight through Alistair’s chest. It was impossible for him to forget what Koran had done, but hearing it was like reliving the moment all over again. Seeing him, listening to Koran draw breath while his father lay in a shallow grave, it was torture.

  Koran cleared his throat then shook his head from side to side. “I didn’t want to kill your dad, kid,” he said with a hint of remorse in his voice. “It was my family or him. I didn’t have a choice.”

  Alistair didn’t reply.

  “And now…now you’re out here. I take it both of you left without anyone knowing you were going, eh?”

  “And if we did?” Chase growled.

  Koran glared at him then looked away. Flakes of brittle snow slowly drifted to the ground and he reached out and let one fall onto his palm. The weather was taking a turn for the worse and he had a long journey ahead of him. He questioned if he could do what needed to be done, but he knew the price if he didn’t.

  “I really wish you wouldn’t have followed me,” he said as he sealed his resolve.

  “What does it matter?” Alistair asked and took a step toward him. “You kill us here, you kill us when you tell your friends. Either way we die and you’re still a coward.”

  Koran jabbed the pistol at him and hobbled forward. “You don’t know shit!”

  “I know you killed my dad!”

  Koran grabbed him around the collar and pulled him onto his toes. “You think I wanted any of this? You think I wanted to kill him? I tried, I tried to get away from him, but he wouldn’t let it go. And now, now look at where we are.”

  He stared Alistair in the eyes and Alistair returned his gaze. Hate and pure malevolence burned behind his pupils like a raging inferno. Koran growled and shoved him away. Turning around, he walked in a semi-circle and mumbled angrily under his breath. He banged his hand into his forehead and looked up at the sky.

  The snow was falling harder now. The icy globs peppered his face, melting as his warm skin turned them to mush then freezing again as they ran down the side of his cheek. He had a decision ahead of him and even with all the horrible things he had done, he wasn’t sure if he could see this last deed through.

  “I wish you hadn’t come,” Koran mumbled.

  He slowly lowered his head and turned to face them then froze as his eyes met Chase and the dull, black pistol he gripped in his hand. Koran gasped, cursing himself for not checking them. He knew better.

  “Now we don’t have a choice!” Chase growled and steadied the gun with his other hand.

  “You…you know how to use that? You ever kill somebody?”

  “Yeah, I know how to use this asshole! Drop your gun!”

  “Just calm down,” Koran begged as he let the pistol fall from his finger. “You don’t wanna do this. I’ll…I’ll just go. Pl…please.”

  Alistair watched the exchange in silence. His heart thumped against his chest, his fingers jittering at his side as his body raged with adrenaline. He hoped Chase’s conviction didn’t fail, because as he stared at Koran pleading for his life, he didn’t think he could kill the man.

  “Shut up! Just shut up!” Chase roared.

  Koran raised his hand and took a slight step forward. Chase breathed heavily, his mind racing, his legs trembling with anxiety.

  “Calm down kid,” Koran whispered. “Just put the gun down…you’re not a killer.”

  “You are! Stop fucking moving.” Chase stabbed at him with the gun, punctuating every word.

  “You’re not gonna shoot me. It’s not who you are.”

  “You don’t know who I am!”

  “I know what killing someone does to you. You gonna stare me in the eyes and pull the trigger? You don’t want that.”

  Chase swallowed the lump in his throat. The gun felt heavier now, he lowered it the slightest bit and spared a glance at Alistair. His eyes were wide, shock drawn across his face. He was
just as confused as Chase was.

  “Just give it to me,” Koran continued and took another step forward. “Just give me the gun and you can go. You have my word.”

  “Fuck your word!”

  “You gonna shoot me?” Koran roared as his face changed from appeasement to absolute rage.

  Chase shook and stepped back. Koran pressed his advance.

  “You’re gonna have to shoot me, right between the eyes. If you don’t shoot me I’m gonna take that gun and kill both of you.”

  “Shoot him!” Alistair suddenly screamed as fear pushed him to speak. “Kill him Chase.”

  The words sounded foreign as they escaped his lips. Who had he become? Jeering for blood, the lust for revenge, the thirst for vindication, it wasn’t his, but it was. When society fell apart, morality went right behind it.

  “Shoot!” Koran echoed and moved even closer. “Do it! Do it now!”

  Chase stumbled away, his face wrecked with horror. “Sss…stop,” he stammered. “Stop, or I’ll shoot. I swear I will.” His voice was childish and riddled with fear.

  “Then do it!” Koran growled as he lunged forward.

  Chase shuffled backward and tripped over the tent. The gun went off as Koran slammed into him and they both crumpled into the blue and gray canvas.

  Chase rolled over and shoved Koran away then tried to scramble for the gun that was now buried under the fallen tent. Koran grabbed his leg, but Chase kicked hard, sending Koran reeling backwards.

  Recovering, Koran dove on top of Chase and wrapped his arm around his neck. Chase gagged as Koran wrenched his head back. He let out a hoarse cough then clenched Koran’s arm and pried himself free.

  He was stronger than Koran thought and as Chase jabbed his elbow into his stomach, Koran washed away the sense that he was fighting against a kid. Chase scurried across the ground as the gleam from the pistol called to him like a lifeline. He snagged it from the pile of twisted fabric and spun around just as Koran bore down on him.

  He fired again and the bullet clipped Koran’s shoulder, knocking him off balance. Koran fell forward, landing on top of Chase like he’d been thrown. He grabbed at the gun and twisted the barrel away as they rolled across the ground in a tangle of arms and legs.

 

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