“The Russians said a lot of things, honey.”
“I mean, when Dal and I were trying to find you. We were walking past a group of them and I ... overheard something important.”
Dal felt the breath leave his body. He had a sinking feeling he knew where this conversation was going. He sped up, hurrying toward the freeway.
Lena licked her lips. “I overheard one of them. All his friends were laughing.”
“What did you overhear, Lena?”
“The Russian said, ‘They’ll all be sick within the next twelve hours. Then everyone they know will be sick. Then everyone will be dead and this place will be ours.’ ”
Dal’s blood ran cold. He forced himself not to look at Mr. Cecchino. He’d studied the dart bites on the other man’s forearm. There were four of them. The wounds were puckered red and black at the edges.
No one spoke. The only sound was the roar of the Mustang.
“That’s not all.” Lena’s eyes met Dal’s briefly in the rearview mirror. She leaned forward, propping her arms on the back seat. “I heard them say they’re the first wave. Everyone who volunteered for the first wave gets first choice of property when ... when the stupid Americans are gone.”
There were going to be more. Dal licked his lips. There were going to be more Russians. Fucking hell.
“Stop the car,” Mr. Cecchino ordered.
“What?” Dal gaped at him, sure he hadn’t heard him correctly.
“Stop the car.”
“But—”
“Stop the car, Dallas.”
Dal obediently pulled over. He gripped the steering wheel in silent frustration as cars whizzed past them.
“What else did you overhear?” Mr. Cecchino asked his daughter.
“They kept using the word nezhit. I think that’s the name of the poison they put into the darts. I couldn’t understand everything they were saying, but the general context is that there’s going to be a lot of dead within the next twelve hours.”
Mr. Cecchino shifted so that he could look at both Dal and Lena. “This is important information. There aren’t a lot of people anywhere who understand Russian. Lena could be one of the very few people who has this information.”
Oh, shit. Dal knew where this was going. Lena was cut from the same cloth as her father.
“This information is too important to go back to the farm with us. We have to get it to the authorities.”
No one spoke. Dal knew Mr. Cecchino was right.
It didn’t mean he had to like it.
“H—how?” Lena asked. “They have the radio station. They probably have the police station, too.”
“What about other radio stations?” Mr. Cecchino asked. “Or television stations?”
“From what I overheard, they’re taking all the broadcasting stations up and down the west coast,” Lena said. “Television and radio. They’ve probably done it by now.”
“They likely plan to spread their communist propaganda. There probably isn’t an unoccupied station anywhere nearby,” Dal said. Then something occurred to him. “Unless—maybe ...” He clamped his mouth shut.
Part of him wanted to take the words back. All he wanted was to get Lena and Mr. Cecchino to the cabin. To safety.
“Unless what?” Lena leaned forward.
“What are you thinking, son?”
Dal sighed, knowing it was too late to take back his words. “The junior college has an amateur radio station, but it doesn’t have a wide range. It only broadcasts around campus. But there’s a chance the Russians won’t know about it. The transmitter is small and portable. If we can get the equipment ... if we can find a large antenna ... maybe a big TV antenna. The campus station runs on FM waves, same as a TV antenna. A large TV antenna can send out a broadcast to a large area.”
“Brilliant.” Mr. Cecchino slapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s go to the campus and get the transmitter.”
“But ...” Dal flicked his eyes in Lena’s direction, attempting to ask a silent question.
Lena snorted. “Don’t think you can sideline me. Besides, it doesn’t make sense to drive all the way back to the farm, then turn around and come back to Rossi.”
“She’s right,” Mr. Cecchino said.
Dal wanted to curse. Of all the Cecchino kids, Lena was the most like her father. All he wanted was to get the two of them to safety. All they wanted to do was run into the lion’s den and be heroes.
He ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. The campus was hit hard by the Russians. Even if we can get to the equipment, getting our hands on a large TV antenna isn’t going to be easy.”
“We have to try,” Lena insisted. “This information is too important to keep to ourselves.”
Damn. How could he argue with that?
“Let’s move the car and get a little closer to campus,” Mr. Cecchino said. “We can see how things look. If there are too many Soviets, we’ll go back to the farm and come up with another plan.”
“But—” Lena began.
“We can’t get the information to the authorities if we’re dead,” Mr. Cecchino said. “Dal is right. We have to be cautious.”
Dal didn’t wait for Lena to argue. He threw the car into drive and headed toward the junior college. This was the best way to derail the entire plan. As soon as Mr. Cecchino saw the campus overrun with Soviets, they could give up this crazy idea and get back to the farm.
Chapter 14
Domestic Violence
LEO AND ANTON RETURNED from the creek with soaking wet towels. The fact that they only argued twice was a sign of just how fucked up things were. Leo switched off the truck in front of the cabin and set the parking brake.
“I’m telling you, Lars needs a doctor,” Anton said for the four hundredth time. “Wet towels won’t do shit to help him. Since when are wet towels prescribed to fight Russian poison?”
Leo didn’t disagree. If not for Dal’s message, Leo would have suggested taking the risk to get Lars to a doctor. If things were as bad as Dal had implied, going to a hospital would be more deadly than staying here.
But all he said to Anton was, “How do you know what will and won’t work? Since when are you a doctor?”
“You’re such an ass.” Anton slammed the truck door and stalked inside.
Leo grabbed the big plastic garbage bag out of the back of the truck and followed his brother upstairs. The wet towels were inside. Leo felt inadequate bringing them inside for Lars.
Nonna sat at the table, meticulously inventorying all their supplies. She pointed a finger at various cupboards and shelves, directing Bruce to put things away after she noted them on her list.
“Lars is getting worse,” Nonna said by way of greeting as Leo and Anton entered the cabin. “You two need to run back down to the farm. There’s a leftover bottle of penicillin in the bathroom cabinet from when your dad got sick last spring.” For a split second, her eyes clouded with worry. “The poison in the back of his neck is spreading. If the penicillin doesn’t work, I may need to lance the infected area.”
Leo felt his muscles tense with alarm. His grandmother would’t think of sending them back to the farm if things weren’t desperate. The bag of towels in his hand felt like a joke.
“Go now,” Nonna ordered. “While you’re down there, clean out all food and supplies before the Russians show up and take everything. Otherwise, with the way you boys eat, we’ll be out of food in a little over a week. If anything looks amiss, turn around and come back. Here, I’ve made you a list. The Russians will hopefully be too busy in the towns today to bother with our farm.”
Leo took the list before turning to Bruce. “Up for a supply run?”
“Bruce stays here to help me with Lars,” Nonna said. “It will be faster if Anton goes with you since you both know where everything is.”
Leo checked an irritated grumble. Everything Nonna said made sense, but he didn’t like being saddled with his entitled little bother again.
>
“Don’t worry,” Anton said with an easy smile, “I’ll be sure to get underfoot.” He marched out of the cabin. He probably would have given Leo the middle finger if their grandmother weren’t standing there.
Nonna gave Leo a severe scowl. “Be nice to your brother.”
Leo snorted and stalked out of the cabin. Be nice to your brother. Was it any wonder Anton was so cocky? He had everyone looking out for his needs. In the meantime, the farm was dying around them and Anton did next to nothing to pull his weight.
As Leo drove back down the hill with Anton, his little brother took Nonna’s list and ripped it in half.
“What did you do that for?” Leo snapped.
“Half for you, half for me.”
Leo was incensed. “Did you even look at the list before you did that? We should split it up by area, not just tear it in half.”
Anton rolled his eyes. “You’re overthinking it. Our house isn’t that big, man.”
As much as Leo wanted to argue the point, it wouldn’t help anything right now. He and Anton would be more efficient if they weren’t arguing.
When they were less than a mile away from their house, he stopped the truck and got out.
“What are you doing?”
Leo ignored his little brother, pulling out the binoculars he’d grabbed on the way out of the cabin. He climbed onto a large rock outcropping, which gave him an unobstructed view of the farm.
He scanned the orchard for any sign of Russians. Nothing moved among the apple trees.
He skimmed past the orchard to the barn. Nothing looked out of place there, either.
Lastly, he studied the house. Everything was as they had left it, even down to the skid marks from his father’s truck when he left to find Lena and Dal.
Anton joined him on the outcropping. “Can I see?”
“In a minute.” Leo was checking the highway leading to the farm. It was clear. No Soviets anywhere. Nor was there any sign of his dad, Lena, and Dal.
Leo passed Anton the binoculars. “It’s clear. Come on, we can drive down.” Leo had been prepared to leave the truck behind and go on foot if necessary. They wouldn’t have been able to get food supplies, but they could have gotten the penicillin.
The rest of the drive passed in silence. Anton was out the door before Leo could turn off the engine. By the time Leo got into the house, Anton was in the living room with the television on.
“What are you doing?” Leo snapped. “We didn’t come down here so you could watch your favorite show.”
“For your information, I was checking to see if there was any news.” Anton glared at him. “What’s with you? You’re always on my case. Nothing I do is good enough.”
“You need to grow up.”
Anton’s face turned red. “Just because you’re pissed off about losing your football scholarship doesn’t give you the right to be such an asshole all the time. I’m sorry you’re not at Berkley playing ball, okay? I’m sorry your shoulder got fucked up. No wonder Jennifer dumped you. Who’d want to be with a dick wad every damn day?”
Mentioning Jennifer was like throwing a gas can onto a fire. Leo’s temper detonated.
“Do you know how much debt Dad is in?” he roared. “He leveraged everything to pay for Mom’s chemo. Everything! We could have lost the house and farm if I didn’t stay and do something.” Leo stormed out of the room. He was so angry he could hardly read the crumpled list in his fist.
He stomped into the bathroom and rifled through drawers until he found the Penicillin. Shoving it into his shirt pocket, he stalked toward the utility room to grab some empty boxes and garbage bags.
Anton had left the television on in the living room. It let out that awful blare and displayed the emergency broadcast system’s color bars. Leo switched it off. Apparently, there was still no news. Dal’s single broadcast from the radio station was the only hint of the Russian invasion taking place ten miles down the road.
The closet outside the bathroom held all the extra blankets and towels. Sticking to Nonna’s list, he shoved them into garbage bags. As he did, he caught sight of his father’s small desk inside the master bedroom. On the desk was a small bill organizer stuffed full of paperwork.
All the fight went out of him.
How he wished he’d never snooped in his father’s private things. How he wished he could turn back the clock to a time when he was as oblivious as Anton. To a time when grappling with the enormity of mom’s illness had been the only worry on his list.
He shouldn’t be such a dick to Anton. No one made him fake the shoulder injury. No one made him walk away from his dream of playing football.
A scream punched through his eardrums.
Leo reacted on instinct. He dropped the bag of blankets and raced onto the front porch. Anton was already there, rifle gripped in his hands.
Someone screamed a second time. It came from the east, from the Granger family farm.
Anton and Leo exchanged looks. In wordless agreement, they hurried to the fence line that separated their two properties.
If there were Soviets on the Granger farm, they were fucked. They’d have to ditch the truck and make their way back to the cabin on foot or risk drawing attention to themselves.
Leo and Anton crouched low and crept through the tall grass that grew near the fencing. When they reached the chain-link fence that separated their properties, they dropped to their knees and raised their rifles.
The screaming gained intensity. And it was coming closer.
The muscles of Leo’s back tightened. He scanned the Granger orchard, finger light on the trigger.
He didn’t like Mr. and Mrs. Granger. In fact, most days he thought they deserved to be hit by lightning. But he wouldn’t let them be hunted down by Russians. Not even they deserved that.
The dark head of Mrs. Granger appeared. She was wearing her customary orchard clothing, jeans and a flannel shirt.
Except one sleeve of her shirt had been torn off. She was bleeding all up and down her arm. There was also a tear in one leg of her jeans.
She ran through the the trees. Mr. Granger pursued her, a guttural growl rumbling up from his throat. It sent a chill across Leo’s shoulders.
Mr. Granger charged after his wife like a lion after a gazelle. Leo had never seen the man move like that. He must be more pissed off than usual. Or maybe more drunk than usual. Both scenarios were feasible. The guy was a royal dick.
Mrs. Granger never stopped screaming. She spoke no words, only screamed. That wasn’t unusual, either.
Sometimes, late at night when the house was quiet and the windows open, Leo could hear the two of them going at it. Mr. Granger was usually yelling. Mrs. Granger was always screaming.
That was why, when Dal moved in with them freshman year, he hadn’t argued when his friend offered to sleep in the utility room. He didn’t want Dal to have to listen to his crazy parents go at each other. The utility room was on the far side of the house, opposite to the Granger farm. If Dal could hear his parents over there, he’d never spoken of it.
Leo and Anton watched the two continue to dodge through the apple orchard.
“Does Mr. Granger have blood on his face?” Anton asked.
Leo had noticed that. “Yeah, he does.”
“Do you think she actually fought back this time?”
Leo shook his head. “I think Mr. Granger bit her. That’s why her shirt is torn.”
“Bit her?” Anton’s brow furrowed. “You really think so?”
“It wouldn’t be the most fucked up thing he’s done to her.”
Anton couldn’t argue with that. Over the years, they’d seen Mrs. Granger with a broken arm, dislocated shoulder, broken nose, and cracked ribs. Biting was fairly tame in comparison.
Mrs. Granger disappeared behind the barn. Mr. Granger was hard on her heels. When the couple was out of sight, the screaming went up several octaves.
“God, that guy is a dick,” Anton said. “Think I could get away with bl
aming it on the Russians if I shot him?”
“He must be raging drunk.”
“Whatever. Like that’s an excuse. What do you think?” Anton hefted the rifle.
Leo shook his head. He’d learned a long time ago that interference between those two was not appreciated by either party. It had been Mrs. Granger who threw Dal out of the house for trying to protect her.
“Let’s get back to the house and finish packing,” Leo said. “We need to get back to Lars.” Let those two kill each other if that’s what they wanted. After they kicked out their only son, Leo stopped caring what happened to either of them.
Thirty minutes later, the back of the truck was jammed full. It was dusk. Leo hefted the last box of supplies into the back.
“Funny.” Anton watched him with a somber look on his face. “I didn’t think you could lift heavy boxes like that with your messed-up shoulder.”
Leo ignored him, staring up the gravel road and hoping for some sign of his dad and the others. Mr. Cecchino left hours ago. He should have been back with Dal and Lena by now.
“Did you ever even have a shoulder injury?” Anton asked.
Leo rubbed a tired hand over his face. It had been a long day and he’d said too much. “Let’s get back to the cabin.”
Just as they climbed into the truck, the crunch of tires on gravel filled the air.
Someone was coming down the Cecchino farm road.
Chapter 15
Visitor
“THAT’S NOT MY TRUCK,” Leo said. He knew the sound of his beloved truck, and that wasn’t it. Alarm spiked through him.
Leo snatched his rifle out of the front seat and sprinted for the wood pile on the side of the house. Anton raced behind him. His little brother might irritate the shit out of him, but the kid had good instincts.
The two brothers dove behind the wood pile. A plume of dust hung in the sky, kicked up by a vehicle.
“Think it’s Russians?” Anton propped his rifle on top of the wood pile, crouching to sight down the crosshairs.
“Don’t know.” The hairs prickled along the back of Leo’s neck. His finger tensed on the rifle trigger, ready to fire at the first sign of danger. If Russians were here for the Cecchino farm, they were in for a surprise. He’d shoot every last one of them down.
Zommunist Invasion | Book 1 | Red Virus Page 9