by EE Isherwood
He got the truck moving once more, rolling down Emily’s window along the way. Properly outfitted, she sat up in her seat as if unafraid to talk to the news crew. It was part of acting as if the black uniforms were real.
She waved first as they arrived next to the van. “Hey, guys, what’s the problem?”
The driver gave her a serious look but then cracked a slim smile. “We saw you two following us. I hope you don’t mind us being nosey, but we have a question we want to ask you.”
“Oh?” Emily replied in an upbeat voice.
Ted listened, too, but he also squeezed the grip of his pistol now hidden between the two front seats…
NORAD Black Site Sierra 7, CO
Tabby was shocked at how fast her situation had spiraled into dangerous territory. She stood there next to her captor while watching the line of hooded prisoners outside the strange white box. A high school football team cheered it all on. The scene was surreal.
“Don’t put her in there. I’ll…be quiet. I won’t interrupt you ever again.” She was quick to offer those concessions, but there were other, more permanent ones Tabby wasn’t willing to give up.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to harm her. The obsidian energy can be fine-tuned to any number of channels, from the painful to the pleasurable. If I really wanted to threaten you, or your friends, I could. However, all I’m doing here right now is illustrating the power and science you Old Americans are up against. I want you to know how utterly and completely you’ve been defeated. Then, when you accept it, we can move on to the next room, where I assure you, our discussions will be a lot more pleasant.”
Audrey had been shoved into the box by the handlers. The crazy guy stood off to one side, still without his hood, talking to himself. By her estimation, the white light was designed to wipe minds. It was the exact sort of thing she imagined from a tinpot dictator working to take over her homeland.
“I’ll be good,” she pleaded. “Don’t hurt her.”
David swooshed his white hair out of his eyes. “I promise, I won’t hurt your friend.” At the same time, he dropped his arm, which was a signal to whoever was controlling the box. The energy turned on, seemingly erasing Audrey as she stood inside the cube. It once again became as bright as a small sun, until it abruptly shut off.
“Bring her out!” David commanded.
The helpers pulled Audrey from the cage, dragging her and her baggy white jumpsuit out the door. Tabby was angry at seeing her tossed around, but she dared not express her feelings while on the raised platform, in front of David’s men.
After studying Audrey for a few seconds, the white-haired leader turned to her. “See? She’s fine. I assure you, she’s in peak physical health now that you’re here.” His tone implied her health could change quickly if Tabby did anything he didn’t like. As such, all she did was display a fake smile.
“Very good,” he went on. “Now, we don’t have to watch what happens to the others. I mainly wanted you to see your friend and the first man. He’s today’s highlight.”
He strode off the stage and headed for the same doors they’d used to come in. The young men in the crowd reached out to him and slapped his hand as if congratulating a winning coach. She trailed behind, anxious to stay close to him, lest she get swallowed by the sea of black. At one point, she had trouble scooting by a thick gathering, and one of the young men slapped her hard on the butt.
David didn’t see it happen, and she wondered if the culprit was risking death by being so brazen with her. If so, it meant the guys around her were only putting on a show for their leader…
She fought to get right on David’s heels, though by the time she’d made it, the audience had thinned out.
“This way,” he advised her, sounding like he didn’t have a care in the world.
As they went through the door, Charity stood at attention in the hallway. The redhead still wore her hip-hugging white spacesuit, leaving zero to the imagination. David gave her a nod, and she went through the doors back into the auditorium.
It left her alone with David. “You’ve passed the first, and only, test. I’ve shown you most of our secrets in this fortress. The technology you’ve seen is unknown to practically everyone remaining in the world outside. As you can see, your war is over. Now is the time to embrace what comes next…”
She knew better than to argue. After a short pause, Charity came through the doors again, trailed by one of the young men from inside the gathering. The woman in white halted, brushed the shoulders of the guy’s white-striped jumpsuit, then patted him gently on the side of his face. “This is Victor.”
If she’d met him in real life, he’d fit in as a junior or senior in college, putting him a couple years older than her. His square shoulders and tall height were traits she didn’t mind at all on normal boys. His face wasn’t unattractive, either, and he actually had kind blue eyes. However, he was part of the invasion force. She clamped her teeth together to avoid revealing any expression.
When Victor held out his hand, she glanced over to David. His smile suggested he knew she was going to take it.
“Pleased to meet you,” she said dryly.
“You, too,” Victor said anxiously. “I’m glad you picked me to be your betrothed.”
Oh, God. Please, no.
Despite spending years of her life inside the mines under Bonne Terre, the earth around her suddenly didn’t seem so friendly. The weight of the rock was smothering and claustrophobic in a way she had never experienced in similar corridors back home. It saddened her further to know she was probably never going back.
While everyone stood around and waited for her next words, she juggled life and death from side to side in her head. Suicide or rebellion?
Suicide would be easy. She’d only have to piss off David with a snarky response...
Fighting back would be a lot harder.
CHAPTER 10
Glendo, WY
Kyla and Meechum had more supplies than they could carry. Uncle Ted had left some of the food as well as four different rifles and shotguns, plus two pistols and plentiful ammo for each. The plan was to carry what they could on the hike to find a car, then come back to the cabin to pick up the rest. The pair found a medium-sized backpack inside the wood home, which Kyla offered to carry.
“You carry the guns. I’ll carry the ammo,” she mused.
“I’ll take this nice AR your uncle left for me. I recommend the other AR, not the shotgun. If we run into trouble, you’re more likely going to need the ability to reach out and touch the bad guys. A shotgun won’t have the range. Plus, we’ll both be using the same ammo. It saves us the confusion of working in different calibers.”
An hour and change after Uncle Ted and Emily had driven away, she and Meechum walked down the hill in front of the cabin. Once out of the trees, they had a clear view all the way to Glendo, which was about five miles away. The lake was surrounded by tall trees, pines mostly, as was the town, but there was nothing but rolling grass and a few dirt driveways between the two points.
“Should we take some of these side roads to see if there are other cabins or other vehicles?” she asked.
“No time,” Meechum answered. “There could be a car a mile down one of these other roads, but maybe there isn’t, and we’d have wasted our time looking. We know with certainty there are lots of cars in that town we drove through. It’s a bit farther away, but it’s a sure thing. When in a military operation, never pass on a sure thing.”
“I’m sold,” she replied, before the conversation faded.
They walked in silence for a good distance, but a mile or two in, Kyla had to unload what was on her mind. “I never saw it coming. Did you?”
Meechum glanced over. “See them leaving you? No, I have to admit I didn’t. But when POTUS told me it was an option, I realized I should have seen it. Your uncle has been torn to shreds about putting you in so much danger. I could tell from the minute we got together with him.”
Sh
e sighed. “It’s my fault for assuming we were all going to save the country, you know? After surviving on the JFK with you, I felt like I’d seen the worst of the danger. Now it seems like we’ve driven half the way across the country and haven’t seen boo from the bad guys. Maybe they’re all up in North Dakota, picking up the pieces from our sneaky attack.”
“Maybe,” Meechum allowed. “But we know they’re also at NORAD, which is south. I’d expect the number of enemy units to spike, once we get closer. As for saving the country, if we can get ourselves out of the enemy’s area of operations, we’ll be a goldmine of intelligence for allied forces. It’s the endgame of this little jaunt, right?”
Kyla smiled knowingly. “Right.”
They walked in the afternoon sunshine for another twenty minutes. They reached the outer limits of Glendo, which was marked by an increase in tree cover. Numerous cars and buildings were sprawled out under the shady foliage ahead. Certainly, one of those vehicles would be unlocked and filled with gas.
The nearest truck was parked on the right shoulder of the road, facing them, next to a stand of trees. Meechum pointed to it. “I’d like a shiny new pickup truck like that one, wouldn’t you?”
They walked another twenty seconds, nearing the truck, when the underbrush shifted in the trees to their right. Meechum ran them next to the black pickup and immediately had her rifle aimed at the threat. Kyla got hers ready as well.
A man’s voice called out. “I don’t know what those food trucks do for hygiene, but their fried chicken gave me the worst trots of my life. Thanks for pulling over.”
“No problem,” another man replied, also from the tree line. “And thanks for bringing along your stash of toilet paper. But don’t complain to David about the food. He might make you disappear.”
“No kidding,” the first man laughed.
The pair fought their way out of the tangled bushes, and they immediately caught sight of her and Meechum by their truck. They had rifles slung over their shoulders, but they drew their pistols at record speed. “What unit are you girls with?”
“Shoot them!” Meechum ordered.
Fort Collins, CO
Ted had already lined up the shot in his mind: he’d order Emily to lean forward, he’d aim across the front seat, then take out the driver of the TV van. All he’d have to do is raise the pistol from its resting spot next to his seat.
The man smiled at them. “We wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind escorting us?”
Emily chuckled from behind her makeshift mask. “Escort you? What do you need an escort for?”
The guy was dressed like the people back at the computer labs in Minot, North Dakota. His black outfit was trimmed with red sleeves. It had to mean he was in one of the technical trades, Ted assumed. The man was in his forties, at least, though his dark hair was trimmed extremely close to the scalp, making him seem younger. “Where have you been? The Americans are fighting back all over the place. North Dakota. Texas. Even California, of all places.”
He was in a sweet position to glean some useful information from the two fellows. Rather than agree out of the gate, he decided to take a chance and play the role of soldier of fortune for the bad guys. He spoke in a stern voice. “Who told you about those attacks?”
The man visibly shrank in the other truck. “Sorry, man. I thought it was common knowledge. We see it on the news feeds coming in. I guess I assumed it was broadcast in other areas.” When the guy leaned back, he got a look at the second man; he was heavyset, with a long black beard rising to thick sideburns.
“It’s all right, sport,” he went on. “Though you know how it is. Loose lips sink ships.”
He didn’t know if the man would understand the old saying, but the guy still nodded profusely. “Right. Right. I won’t do it again.”
“But tell me, while we’re chatting about public news, what do you know about the attack in Texas? She and I haven’t even heard about what happened there.” He already knew exactly what went down in North Dakota, but he wanted to see if he could glean any intel on how Texans were fighting back.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what to tell you. We haven’t been shown the footage. It was confiscated before the news people could broadcast it. We all know something happened at an airport in Amarillo, but it’s anyone’s guess as to what. The running conspiracy theory is the Americans used gas tankers to blow up airplanes sitting on the runway, but I think it’s more likely their stealth bombers came and went without anyone knowing about them.”
Ted sat back, deep in thought.
Emily glanced at him once, then turned back to the two men. “We’ll follow you. Consider us your shadow. We’ll watch out for the Americans.” She laughed to herself while rolling up her window, then spoke quietly as the van drove away. “Yes, we’ll be on a sharp lookout for those wily Americans.”
Ted followed. “They said fuel trucks were used to attack the airport. That sounds like a great idea. If we come across another runway full of goodies, maybe we can do the same thing.”
She lowered her mask. “I doubt we’re going to get that lucky again. We haven’t seen a single enemy since Westby, and we still aren’t sure what happened there. These guys sure don’t make it easy to find them, which is amazing considering they’ve conquered the whole country. When we get to NORAD, though, I think it’s a great idea to attack their bunker by driving fuel tankers down their gullet.”
“That might be a problem. As you know, NORAD is inside a huge mountain. One tanker wouldn’t be enough to kick on the fire alarm there.”
“We’ll worry about it when we get closer. Right now, I’ve got to admit I was wrong. There are some enemies between here and North Dakota. They’re right here, in fact.” Emily pointed ahead. The TV van had parked at the rear of a line of six black SUVs, so he fell in behind the van.
“Dang, I hate it when you’re wrong,” he said, trying to be funny.
A fleet of flatbed tractor-trailers waited at the edge of the intersection about fifty yards ahead. Through the buildings and trees, he noticed the line went for many blocks to their left, as if an armored brigade was lined up for a military parade. Each trailer carried three or four of the mechanical drones they’d seen during their escape the previous day. The horse-drones. The giraffe-drones. More traditional flying types. Plus, there were several other models they’d never seen before.
Wheeled cranes waited at the edge of the gravel parking lot, while others were positioned on a parallel lot across the street. If the trucks moved forward about a hundred yards, their goods could be swept up by the hookers.
The camera guy waved them over. “Come on! We need your help to film the unloading process. This is the most dangerous part.”
Numerous men in black uniforms stood around the cranes with rifles slung over their backs, suggesting he and Emily wouldn’t be out of place. However, no matter how curious he was about their operation, he knew it would be dangerous to get out of the truck.
“We have to go,” Emily said, adjusting her kerchief.
“We do?” he asked with surprise.
“They’ll expect us to hop out and help protect them. At the same time, I think we’ll have an opportunity to get in front of a camera, like we wanted. They’re pulling out the video equipment now. This may be our big chance to become famous.”
He laughed. “Says the woman who will probably end up on cereal boxes and have her name assigned to middle schools across America.”
She cracked up with him. “This is how we strike back, right? Just follow my lead and act like stupid mercenaries.”
“Oh, trust me, it won’t be hard to act.”
NORAD Black Site Sierra 7, CO
Back in his cell, Dwight sat on the floor and rolled into a ball under the desk. It was his normal defense mechanism when he was ill. Back home, well, where he called home, he would have hung out in the basement of the high-rise, sleeping the sickness away on his cardboard bed, along with all his cats. In the office prison, he di
d have a cot, but he preferred being able to lay sideways and curl up. The darkness under there also gave him comfort.
He opened his good eye. Poppy hopped across the carpet, not five feet from him. If he’d been so inclined, he might have been able to reach out and stroke her feathers. However, he couldn’t even lift his arm to coax her closer.
“I’m sorry, Poppy. You can have my soggy cereal. It’s all I’ve got to offer.”
The bird chirped.
“What? I was gone? What are you saying?”
He had a vague recollection of a bright light, but his memory of what happened inside the glow was washed out and vague, much as his eyes still hadn’t recovered from the bright glare. Dwight was certain he felt wonderful when he emerged from the light. Better than he’d been in decades. His arthritis pain was gone. His intestines didn’t have that tight twist, which always made timing his bathroom stops akin to Russian roulette. And he no longer experienced the deep-seated need to have alcohol on his tongue.
But that was hours ago. Or days. He couldn’t say for sure. All he knew was that the euphoria had changed into a laundry list of ailments troubling him at that moment. Hunched over sideways while lying in a ball was the only position that seemed to make him feel halfway decent.
The worst, however, was not remembering what he’d been doing before the light. The last thing he could recall with absolute clarity was a telephone pole falling from the sky and crashing into a dam. Before that, his memory was spotty about living in San Francisco. Walking the streets, looking for handouts. And surviving as a homeless man in a homeless utopia.
The bird cawed.
“No, I don’t remember what I had for dinner yesterday. Why don’t you tell me, Ms. Smarty Beak?”
Poppy cackled as she filled him in.
“A barbeque? I don’t remember anything of the sort.”
He assumed she was lying, as she often did when she wanted him to do unpleasant acts, such as staying away from the hooch for a whole weekend.