Two Wolves and a Sheep: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (Minus America Book 4)

by EE Isherwood

  However, as she hopped back and forth, desperate to catch sight of the shoes, she did finally catch the scent of a person she recognized. She froze in place, waiting to see if it came again.

  “Would it be all right if I found another bag?” Biscuit asked, clearly not on the same page as her.

  “No! Wait a second.” Deogee sniffed the air. “There!”

  She broke into a run, but realized Biscuit wasn’t following. “Biscuit! Follow!” She barked twice.

  When the lab chased her, muttering incoherently about too much running, she headed for the source of the scent. The wolf in her locked on and dialed in distance as the smell grew in strength. “We’re close,” she shouted.

  “To what? A bag? I’d like a new bag!”

  “It’s better than a bag,” she replied, sure the scent was getting stronger.

  Minutes later, she turned onto a familiar little street. It wasn’t the same one where she’d met Biscuit, but it looked very much like it. To her, most of the human dwellings looked identical. The first one on the street had two of the humans’ cars in the back yard; one was flipped completely. However, she ignored the oddity. There was only one house that meant anything to her.

  “It can’t be!”

  Deogee barked over and over as she ran.

  “This is the one!”

  Biscuit followed but was a couple driveways behind her.

  More barking.

  The door of the target house opened. Her keen eyesight recognized the human face, the long, shaggy fur they kept only on their heads, and the yellow running shoes that tasted so good.

  “Melissa!” she barked.

  The woman didn’t leave her doorway. She waved her over. “Deogee? How did you get out? Come inside!”

  “Melissa!” she repeated over and over. Though she knew nothing of God and miracles, the sense of overwhelming surprise and relief at seeing her lost friend would have made a believer out of her.

  She ran up a few steps at the front porch and jumped toward Melissa with the vigor of a puppy.

  “I’m home!”

  Melissa wrapped her arms around her for a moment before speaking. “Who’s your friend following you? Where have you been? How did you get out?”

  Not wanting to stop licking Melissa’s face, she did pause for a second, intending to introduce Biscuit to the pack leader. However, when she turned around to watch Biscuit arrive, she heard herself bark, but, oddly, her voice came from another part of the room.

  “What the hell?” Melissa exclaimed, looking behind her. “There are two of you?”

  A dog stood across the room who looked exactly as she did. Gray fur. Big wolf-like build. Same collar. It was the same canine she remembered when sitting next to her human’s mirror. It was another Deogee. It was exciting, and scary, and confusing. She and her twin barked hello at precisely the same time.

  “It is me,” she thought.

  Melissa grabbed her by the collar and pulled her inside.

  “What about Biscuit?” she whined, not forgetting her traveling companion.

  The other dog was coming off the street and onto the grass, trotting along without a care in the world. However, once she reached the door and saw there were two dogs named Deogee, one of which was being held by a strange human, she stopped to sniff things over.

  Deogee expected her to make a comment about the unusual situation, but she remembered her pal lived only in the moment.

  After a short pause, Biscuit barked several times. “You’re right. This is better than a bag. Now I have two friends to play with!”

  NORAD Black Site Sierra 7, CO

  After a few moments of shock at meeting the president, Tabby became more practical. “Sir, why are you here at the bottom of this hole? Did they stick you down here to put you in prison?”

  He dipped his head. “I’m afraid I am. Come inside and we can talk about it.”

  She followed him away from the windows and toward a tunnel off the main loop. It emerged in a utilitarian living area, with several plastic chairs and one plastic table. Other small rooms connected to the first, including a bathroom and a bedroom. Tanager stood next to one of the chairs, gesturing for her to sit.

  “Thanks,” she said, flattered to be shown some courtesy for a change.

  He sat at the table across from her. “The attack took us all by surprise. I was in the White House with my chief of staff when I got word something was funky on the West Coast. I only had enough time to make it to the situation room before the wave of energy hit us. The last act of my security detail was to shove me in what I always called the ‘survival ball.’ It’s an indestructible safety device which gets dropped into a deep well under the White House, with me inside. It was designed to save a president if a nuclear bomb was about to fall on Washington D.C., and there was no time to escape.”

  “Like a panic room.”

  He chuckled. “The president doesn’t panic. That’s why I called it a survival ball.”

  They both laughed a bit.

  “Anyway, did you know people only survived if they were underground?”

  She smiled. “I did know it, actually. Me and my friends were inside an old lead mine when the attack happened…” She paused, desperate not to get emotional thinking of all the people she’d lost, parents included. “When we came up for air, everyone was gone.”

  “Bingo,” he replied. “The same thing happened to me. When I came up into the White House again, I was confused as hell because the building was intact, but all the people were gone. There were lots of clothes, of course, and I was sure it was a prank put on by the opposing party.”

  “It wasn’t,” she interrupted, getting into his story.

  “No, it wasn’t. I’d been up top for about ten minutes when David’s people showed up and said the whole nation was gone. They made me strip off all my clothes and leave them in the situation room. I have no idea to what end. They blindfolded me, put me on a plane, and I made my way across the country to this place. I’ve been told I’m at NORAD. Is it true?”

  Tabby bobbled her head. “Oh yeah. This is their headquarters. They took over the old NORAD bunker. David told me why this pit was built, but I don’t remember all the details. I only know it’s their main weapon. The thing which erased all of your people, sir.”

  “I figured as much. David has bragged about it many a time. So, tell me, young lady, why did you come down here by yourself? You wouldn’t by chance be leading an escape?”

  CHAPTER 21

  Lamar, CO

  An hour after being shot at, Ted was over his misgivings about shooting first and asking questions never. Not only was firing at the seven men a necessity, it had kept them in the larger fight. Emily reminded him several times how they needed to get to David before he made good on his threat to hurt any nation who harbored American citizens. They were positive some staunch allies would refuse the order.

  “England won’t kick us out,” he said with hope in his voice. “Will they?”

  Emily was the politician. “It depends on what they and the rest of the world know about the origin of the attack. Does David have the ability to carry out his threat using his superweapon on them? Is there a way to defend against it? We already know Kyla survived at the bottom of the carrier. If they could get people into bunkers…”

  “My ex-wife is in England, that’s why I asked.” He’d shared bits of his past with Emily, but he didn’t like talking about his past mistakes.

  “How long were you two together?” Emily spoke as if talking about the color of the grass outside.

  He exhaled for about a quarter of a mile before deciding to answer. “Me and Priscilla met during one of the European outbreaks about ten years ago. We were both flying supplies into and out of the Balkans. My plane crapped out and had to be left in Bucharest, and I hopped on the one she was flying. I got called into the cockpit when her co-pilot got sick. Had the fish, as I always joked about.”

  Ted paused, knowing Emily wouldn�
�t understand.

  “It’s from a movie. Anyway,” he went on, “one thing led to another and we got married. Made it about five years before our marriage ran out of runway. It crashed in the forest of long distance and secret affairs…”

  Emily became very interested. “You?”

  He chuckled. “No, cheating isn’t my style. It was fine, though. It gave us the necessary reason to end it. We haven’t so much as talked since the papers were signed. Not until I got a text from her the other day, worried I went down with Air Force Two.” He’d had plenty of opportunities to try texting her back, but he saw little reason to make it a priority.

  “I hope she’s all right,” Emily said, settling back into her seat as if the excitement was over.

  “Me too.” Despite all the time and distance, not to mention the betrayal, he didn’t wish her or anyone would be killed like the rest of America.

  They drove in silence for another few minutes before a dark shadow overtook them on the highway.

  “What the hell?”

  The sun had been blotted out by a monster aircraft to his left. It wasn’t more than two-hundred feet above, but it appeared wildly out of proportion to the ground since it was so large.

  “My God, what kind of a plane is that?”

  “They’re called SACAs.” He’d seen them a few times while in the air. It was a Southern Solar S-1 Autonomous Communications Array. A solar-powered plane designed to fly at sixty-thousand feet, above all other air traffic, and remain in the air for months at a time. As such, the airframe was mostly a flat 300-foot wing, covered in solar panels, and with a minimal fuselage. Its six propeller-driven engines seemed too small for such a large plane, but it was made of light materials, and had almost no payload, so they could afford to be smaller.

  “I mentioned one of these back in New York. We were talking about Southern Solar’s digital TV service. These big planes fly above cities and broadcast the signal. It’s much cheaper than owning a space-based satellite, and the picture is clearer, too.”

  She leaned under the windshield to get a better look. “Is that why it has the big dish on the bottom?”

  It reminded him a little of the Airborne Warning and Control System dish on an E-3 Sentry. While E-3 was a Boeing 767 with the dish on top, the S-1 kept the flat dish on the bottom. Its stubby landing pylons barely seemed tall enough to provide enough clearance for the dish.

  Pylons?

  “Its landing gear is down. This pig is going to land!” As a pilot, he found the situation exciting. Seeing a craft of such size touch down would be amazing, especially in high winds. Drawing a straight line to where it might land, he realized there was a town coming up. If the plane was landing there…

  “Shit. We’ve got company.” He drove the truck over a highpoint in the grasslands, revealing a distant town. A roadblock had been set up about a mile ahead, likely in support of the town and whatever airstrip the descending aircraft was heading for. It only took a second for him to figure out there was no turning back or avoiding being seen.

  Emily raised her mask again and rapidly gathered her hair with both hands.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, squinting to get as much intel about the men ahead as possible.

  “I’m putting my hair up. Maybe it will throw them off the scent.”

  His face burned with the pressure. Whatever he did next would decide if they survived in the fight for a little longer. Everything depended on whether these men were on the lookout for his truck. On the lookout for Emily.

  “Take off the mask, Em. It was distinctive and set you apart in Fort Collins. Out here, we’re just two bored soldiers heading back to base. That’s our play. We can’t kill these guys. It’s too close to town, and they’re probably in contact with someone in there.”

  When close to the roadblock, he counted five men on foot. Unknown number sitting in the three black Humvees bracketing the road. They carried rifles, Chinese models, if he remembered his weapons, and they were alert.

  The plane flew ahead, descending toward a landing strip beyond the small high plains town.

  He slowed the truck, rolled down his window, and prayed. Of all the encounters where they’d depended on tricking the enemy with their captured uniforms, he was the least certain about this one. Any army worth its salt would pass along information to all units how guys like him were sneaking in and causing havoc. Off the top of his head, he counted three separate times when he’d pushed his luck with the uniform trick. He wasn’t a gambler but even he understood there came a point when your luck ran out.

  Please don’t let this be the time.

  Wheatland, CO

  Colonel Avery went silent. He studied Meechum with a hard glare before switching to Kyla. Rays of sunshine came in through the trees, catching the man’s blue eyes, so they sparkled with apparent wonder at what she’d said. “Is this true? It can’t be true, can it?”

  She did her best to meet his gaze. “Colonel, we started out on the USS John F. Kennedy. If you check with them, I’m sure they’ll confirm who we are and most of where we’ve been. Though the captain was…one of them.”

  Avery took a step back. “The captain of an aircraft carrier? Are you sure?” The once-confident officer seemed lost.

  It was Meechum’s cue. “Sir, you’ve got to stop asking so many questions and take a little on trust. We’re dressed like them because it’s the only way to stay alive out here. If we’d been in sundresses and bonnets, we would have likely been shot on sight a dozen times by now.”

  Kyla laughed to herself thinking about Emily wearing the beach dress back at Martha’s Vineyard, but it was before anyone had truly understood the enemy.

  The Marine went on. “Don’t believe us? It’s like the Russians say…tough shitzky. We were doing fine without you boys, so if you want to go wander around aimlessly again, be my guest. If you want to do some hero shit, like me and Dudette here, you’ll point your grid squares downrange to NORAD. That’s where the party is. When you rescue President Williams and save the country, I won’t tell anyone you got the idea from us. Just get it the eff done.” She paused. “Sir.”

  She couldn’t remember the combat Marine putting so many sentences together in a row, but she’d picked her moment perfectly.

  Avery smiled. “No one could make up a story like you ladies. Let’s say we believe you and are willing to head south as part of our mission. How will you find your uncle and the president? Do you know their route? What are they driving? How—”

  The conversation turned military, at least to Kyla’s ears. The commando team brought out maps and computer tablets full of aerial imagery. Meechum gave them a rundown on where they’d been, what they’d accomplished, and listed known bases, areas where attacks had taken place, and all they’d done on the East Coast. Kyla let herself relax a bit, knowing they were joining up with a larger group of competent warfighters. However, as the group started to move out, they came back to her.

  “You have a phone?” Avery inquired.

  “It’s out of charge.”

  “We can help with that. We’ll get you charged up so you can make a call to your uncle when the time is right.”

  “You have a charger?” she asked, anxious to help.

  Avery gestured for her to walk with him. “It’s in the helicopter.”

  NORAD Black Site Sierra 7, CO

  Dwight had been taken to the cube of white light, bathed in it, then sent back to his room. He’d felt fine for an hour or so, but then, out of the blue, he’d coughed up a tiny bit of blood. Now he stood in abject terror looking at it.

  “It’s happening again. I remember how it goes. I’ll get sicker throughout the day.”

  A voice came from one of the cells out in the hall. “I’ll be glad when you’re dead.”

  “Bernard?” he said, shocked. He madly scratched at his hair, pulling out a tuft by accident. Whether it was due to his maladies or came out naturally, he wasn’t able to say. However, it added to his panic.<
br />
  “It’s really me,” the voice said. “David found me in the ashes, and I got rushed to one of his first aid trailers. I bet you didn’t know it was possible for me to survive that fire, did you?”

  “You’re alive?” he asked, full of hope. If Bernard had made it, maybe the others were alive, too. If spraying them with fire was all a bad, drunken dream, David might let him go. Then he could return to San Francisco and go home. If no one was there, so much the better. He’d come to appreciate how overrated people were. They put him in strange boxes…

  “I’m alive,” Bernard’s voice replied. “David threw me in here, though. Said ‘Bernard, you were doing great work, from what I hear, but you failed in a big way, too. You let Dwight Inverness onto your team without checking his credentials.’ I said I was sorry, but he had his men arrest me and toss me in this place anyway. I thought it was because they wanted me to have a good seat for your sentence, but it turned out he wanted me to suffer, too.”

  “Bernard, I’m sorry. You were a cool dude. You didn’t turn me in when I lost my mind in my sleeping bag that one time.” He’d suffered from fits of confusion back when he was drinking.

  Bernard’s voice sighed with exhaustion. “I should have known something was terribly wrong with you. You’re broken.”

  Those were true words, but, at the moment, he was more damaged than Bernard could ever guess. He realized he’d been holding the pool of blood in his palm, so he squatted down and wiped it on the gray carpet. When he got back to his feet, he swayed with wooziness. He also thought the hearing in his left ear was gone.

  “I think this is Hell, actually. I’ve met the men I murdered. Right now, I’m talking to you, but a dead man named Jacob came and visited me, too.”

  “Who’s Jacob?” Bernard’s voice asked.

  “I’m still alive, you ass!” Jacob yelled from his cell.

  Dwight smiled. “He’s Jacob.”

  A long pause followed. He used the time to sit on the floor next to the desk. If the previous day was any indication, he would soon want to crawl under and return to the fetal position.