Frozen World (Book 2): Silo [Hope's Return]

Home > Other > Frozen World (Book 2): Silo [Hope's Return] > Page 5
Frozen World (Book 2): Silo [Hope's Return] Page 5

by Falconer, Jay J.


  “What the hell happened out there?” Zimmer asked, returning to his chair and sitting.

  “I’m not sure, exactly. One minute we were dealing with Frost and his bullshit. The next thing I know, we’re being overrun by Scabs. Thousands of them. They were everywhere, Rod. Like cockroaches.”

  Zimmer’s mind flashed a visual of what the scene must have looked like. He scooted his chair closer to hers, then leaned in and lowered his voice. “Is it true? About Edison?”

  Krista nodded, her face covered in a look of obvious defeat. She changed her tone as well, using a whisper to respond. “That son-of-a-bitch Frost got to him before I could stop him.”

  “How, exactly?”

  “I thought we were all retreating together when all of a sudden, Frost sticks a knife into Edison’s neck.”

  “For no apparent reason? He just kills him? Just like that? After all these years?”

  Krista nodded. “I never saw it coming and I should have. That was on me, Rod. Me.”

  “You couldn’t have known, Krista. Not with an all-out Scab attack. Everyone was distracted.”

  “Well, I should have. That’s my job. My one and only job. Keep the boss alive.”

  Rod put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing with light pressure. “What’s done is done. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Nirvana is going to need you. Now more than ever.”

  Krista sat in silence, her eyes dropping to the table, running into a long, empty stare.

  Rod took his hand away, extrapolating what must have happened after Edison was killed. “I take it you got payback.”

  Her eyes came up, more energized this time. “I would have, but the Scabs got to him first. At least he got what was coming to him.”

  “No doubt.”

  “Just not how I would have done it. As far as I’m concerned, he got off easy.”

  “There’s going to be a lot of questions. From a lot of people.”

  She pushed her lips together in a pucker, holding that pose for a few beats before she spoke again. “I don’t blame them. I’ve got my share, too.”

  “The people will need you to be direct and honest with them, like a strong leader does. That’s how Edison would have done it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t? You’re the most honest person I know.”

  “I mean, I can’t address the people. I’m not the new leader.”

  Zimmer hesitated for a moment, trying to process the words he’d just heard. They weren’t lining up in his brain. He must have misunderstood what she said. “I’m sorry, come again?”

  “The Rules of Succession, Rod. Edison appointed Summer right before he died. Like you said, what’s done is done.”

  “No, that can’t be.”

  “It is. Trust me. Been trying to wrap my head around it ever since.”

  “She’s a horrible choice.”

  “Can’t argue with you there.”

  “You need to bring this to the Committee.”

  Krista rolled her eyes. “What’s left of it—”

  “Edison obviously wasn’t in his right mind. They’ll back you.”

  “Who’s ‘they’?”

  “The others. I’ll make sure of it. Though you should probably know that Morse is sick.”

  “What’s wrong with Alex?”

  “Not sure. From what I hear, he was in medical for a bunch of tests before Liz confined him to rest in his quarters. Not sure what’s going on. But I’ll get him to agree, regardless.”

  “It’s not going to matter, Rod. You know as well as I do that Edison was the Committee. The last vote. Without him, there’s no telling how any of this will go.”

  “We’ll fill his spot, trust me. With someone who is sensitive to our way of thinking.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. Not when I failed to protect him. His death is on me. Nobody else. There isn’t a single person in this place who will back me now.”

  “Trust me, they’ll understand. If nothing else, I’ll make them understand. One way or the other.”

  “What if Summer appoints herself as the head of the Committee?”

  “That’ll never happen,” Zimmer said.

  “You say that now, but—”

  “We have to make this right, Krista. For the good of Nirvana. We can’t let her take over. We need to stop her. Somehow. Some way. She’ll change everything and we can’t let that happen.”

  “Yeah, maybe, but I’m so exhausted right now, I can barely keep my eyes open. I need to hit the rack, first. Then we can talk about her removal. Like tomorrow or next week. After I get a bazillion hours of sleep. Though I have to say, technically the girl hasn’t exactly done anything wrong while she’s been in charge. You need that first to impeach. A crime while she’s in office type thing.”

  “Not yet. But she will. Count on it.”

  Krista let out a slow breath. “You’re probably right.”

  “Can always frame her for something. Make it easy. She’s going to fuck up anyway. Might as well just shortcut the process. Probably save lives in the process.”

  “So what you’re saying is the end justifies the means?”

  Rod nodded with vigor. “Exactly.”

  “No, Rod, we’re not going there. We play this by the book. Like always.”

  “Even if someone gets hurt?”

  “Look, I get that you’re just trying to help. But the rules are the rules and we all live by them. It’s what civilized human beings do. Otherwise, we have chaos and I’m just too frickin’ tired for any of that shit.”

  “Okay, okay, I get it. I don’t agree, but I understand why you feel the way you do,” Rod said, figuring she’d take that stance, though he had to try anyway.

  Krista was a lot of things, but she was consistent in her belief in duty, honor, and respect—traits that would make her the perfect leader of Nirvana.

  Rod continued, “I heard you brought back prisoners.”

  “Yep. They’re in the brig. I need to head there and start my interrogations.”

  “I thought you were going to get some sleep first.”

  “Wishful thinking,” she said in a downtrodden tone. “There’s work to be done and it won’t get done by itself.”

  “I hear you. It never ends around here.”

  “And it’s only going to get worse with little Miss Snot Nose in charge.”

  “Hey, we can only do what we can do.”

  “For you maybe. For me, it comes down to one thing: keeping everyone safe, regardless of who’s sitting in the big chair. In the end, Summer and everyone else is counting on me to do my job. Exhausted or not, I have to keep pushing ahead. Need to pay a visit to medical, too. Check on Liz. See how she’s holding up with Edison’s death and all. Maybe I’ll do that first.”

  Krista brought her hands up from the table and put them on the armrests of the chair, then pushed to her feet.

  Rod did the same. “I’ll go with you.”

  Krista gave him a hug out of nowhere. Not her usual response, but she was bushed and he figured she was not thinking clearly.

  Krista let go and gave him a thin smile. “Thanks for the support, Rod. I know you’ve always got my back.”

  “Even when I’m wrong in your eyes?”

  She nodded, her eyes returning to their full intensity. “It’s not about who’s right or wrong. It’s about the greater good.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Fletcher walked into Frost’s old office, closed the door, and sat in the chair next to Dice.

  It wasn’t an office in the traditional sense, more like a dingy storage room in the back of some rundown auto repair shop, one filled with stacks of manuals, screws, belts, hoses, hand tools, and scraps of hardened steel. Layers and layers of grease, too, and a marred flattop surface made of metal.

  It wasn’t a luxury space by any stretch, but it served its purpose. Plus, it came with a door for privacy, an important security measure that they would need going forward.

>   “Have you heard from our one-eyed friend in The Factory?” Fletcher asked his number two.

  “As a matter of fact, I did. The hunting party just brought back the latest communique with this week’s meat supply.”

  “And?”

  “Craven said he’s almost ready. Just needs to know when and where.”

  “That’ll depend on what your source has for us. Any word from him?”

  “No, but I get the feeling he’s close. Said he’s been working on it 24/7, whatever that means.”

  “Good, because we need to get Phase Two moving. The opportunity is now.”

  “I’ll reach out again. I’m sure he’s anxious for more fuel.”

  “He sure burns through a lot for one guy.”

  “I’m guessing he’s not alone.”

  Fletcher agreed. “Probably not.”

  “But then again, he’s not exactly a Chatty Cathy when it comes to anything outside of business.”

  “Nor should he be. We all need to tighten things up. It’s a new world out there.”

  “In more ways than one.”

  Fletcher snorted after a smirk, taking a moment to consider the situation surrounding all that was happening. “Between that crazy son of a bitch in The Factory and your elusive recluse, we are relying on some pretty interesting characters. Not the soundest plan by any stretch.”

  “That’s putting it mildly, boss. They’re more like a couple of complete psychos.”

  “But necessary psychos.”

  “If you say so.”

  “You know what they say: gotta dance with partner you bring to the party,” Fletcher said, slapping Dice on the back.

  “Talk about an old saying from the way back machine.”

  “Yeah, but it still fits, even if we aren’t talking about some skanky slut in a tight dress.”

  “Been there, done that if you know what I mean.”

  Dice gave Fletcher a fist bump. “That I do, my friend. That I do.”

  A pause hung in the air until Fletcher decided to speak again. “I’m afraid it’s time to pick our command team.”

  The look on Dice’s face turned sour. “I figured as much.”

  “We need to be one-hundred-percent sure of each and every one.”

  “Agreed. I’d start with Sketch for sure, plus a few other guys I have in mind.”

  Fletcher knew where Dice was going with the conversation. “The hunting party—”

  “Absolutely,” Dice said before letting out a prideful smile.

  “One of the perks, when you keep the freezer full.”

  Dice laughed. “Even though we both know that isn’t tough, by any stretch.”

  “Like shooting fish in a barrel,” Fletcher quipped, letting a chuckle free from his lips.

  Dice rolled his eyes, with a full-on grin smothering his face. “More like stabbing corpses in the morgue. Freezer burn notwithstanding.”

  “I like that better.”

  Dice raised an eyebrow. “Which part? The morgue or the freezer burn?”

  “Both.”

  “Yeah, they both apply when you think about it.”

  “Anyone else?”

  Dice ran his hand across his chin for a few beats. “I’d also toss Boone into the mix, and that little wiggler, Pepper.”

  “Damn, he’s annoying.”

  “And then some. But I think he’s a stand-up guy. Plus, I know for a fact he hated Frost.”

  “What about the Indian?”

  “Longbow?” Dice asked.

  “He seems capable. I hear he’s one hell of a tracker and can sling a blade.”

  “That’s the word in camp, though I haven’t had a chance to vet the claims yet. He’s relatively new.”

  “Either way, that’s got to be a plus. Not much time to form a loyalty to our old boss.”

  Dice nodded, his eyes pinching a bit. “I’ll feel him out.”

  “Make it quick, though.”

  “You got it.”

  “Any more?”

  “No. That’s about it off of the top of my head.”

  “Then everyone else will need to go,” Fletcher said, having to force the words from his lips. It was the last thing he wanted to say, but there was no other way. There couldn’t be any doubt about what came next.

  “I’ll arrange it.”

  “Just make it seem legit. Then we can move forward with that business out of the way.”

  “Should we use Craven again?”

  Fletcher gave Dice a single head nod. “Worked once. It’ll work again.”

  “Will do, boss.”

  * * *

  Zimmer followed Krista through the door leading into the medical bay, where they found Summer sitting in a visitor’s chair between two stainless steel medical tables. Her shoulders were only inches from both tables with her head hanging low in a slump of frizzy hair.

  Zimmer could just see her eyes. They were trained on her lap and dripping with tears.

  Liz was in the corner of the room with her back to the entrance, her hands fiddling with a glass vial near the prep station covered in medical supplies.

  Krista cut in front of Zimmer and headed to where Liz stood in her traditional white lab coat.

  Zimmer continued straight, stopping at the foot of the closest stainless-steel table.

  A ratty-looking German shepherd lay on its side with its eyes closed. Some of its golden fur had been covered in a bloody wrap, though most of the redness looked dark and dry. There was a portion of it glistening a brighter red.

  At first Zimmer thought the animal was dead, then he noticed its chest taking in air in short, rapid bursts.

  Summer had hold of one of its front paws, her thumb stroking it from side to side in a measured rhythm.

  Her other arm was outstretched in the opposite direction, reaching across the narrow space to the other table that contained a body under a sheet.

  The face of the victim was covered but Zimmer knew who it was. Or more accurately, he knew what it was—Edison’s corpse.

  The fingers on Summer’s left hand were intertwined with the Professor’s as his lifeless arm hung below the edge of the table. The man’s skin was a pale white.

  Zimmer bent down to get a better view of the girl’s face, hoping to catch her attention. He waved his hand in the path of her eyes, but she never looked up or blinked, her focus remaining transfixed on her legs. He could see her lips moving with purpose but no words were coming out.

  Zimmer cleared his throat. “You okay, Summer?”

  She stopped her lips, then brought her head up and made eye contact. She didn’t respond, only shaking her head with streaks of tears on her face.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Once again, Summer shook her head in silence, her eyes holding his with a glazed look.

  If she hadn’t just been appointed the new leader of Nirvana, Zimmer might have been more forceful with his attempt to connect with her.

  Instead, he took a step back and turned, making a path to Krista and Liz at the prep station.

  When Zimmer arrived, he caught the tail end of a phrase that Krista had just said: “—had your training, maybe I could have done something.”

  Liz gave Krista a short hug, then pulled back, looking less like a doctor and more like a friend. “The blade severed his carotid artery. There was nothing anyone could’ve done, short of having a vascular surgeon on standby in a trauma center.”

  “But you could have saved him, right?”

  “I’m afraid not. That’s beyond my abilities. At least he passed with friends around him. That’s all anyone can ask for. It wasn’t your fault, Krista. Trust me on this.”

  “I appreciate the kind words, Liz, but he’s dead because I failed. Me. Nobody else.”

  Zimmer decided to interrupt the pity party to see if he could change the subject to something a little more productive. He pointed at the canine on the table. “Excuse me, Doc. Do you really think we should be wasting valuable resources on som
e junkyard dog?”

  “His name is Sergeant Barkley and he’s no junkyard dog,” Summer said from her seat. “And yes, we are saving him.”

  “That’s a big-time waste,” Zimmer said, peering first at Summer, then at Liz and Krista. Surely one of the last two would back his stance.

  Krista shrugged, her face looking more dead than alive.

  Liz said nothing, returning her focus to the loaded syringe on the table, picking it up with the tips of three fingers. She brought her eyes up, leaning toward Krista.

  Zimmer closed the gap as well, wanting to hear their conversation. It was possible the doc just needed time to consider his concern and would now back his request to stop treating the dog.

  Liz lowered her voice as she spoke to Krista. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I was up top when you returned today.”

  “Yes, actually. I was going to ask about it, but then the whole thing with Edison’s body came up.”

  Liz glanced at Zimmer, then back at Krista. “There’s something you both need to know.”

  Krista shot Zimmer a look before returning her eyes to Liz.

  Liz continued, “It’s Morse.”

  “Rod told me. He’s sick, right?”

  “It’s worse than that, I’m afraid.”

  “Then why isn’t he here, instead of in his quarters?” Zimmer said, interrupting. “Don’t tell me we’re already out of medical supplies.”

  “Well, yes and no,” Liz said. “We still have plenty of supplies, just not the ones he needs.”

  “What does that mean?” Krista asked.

  “It means there’s nothing I can do for him. Not anymore. I’ve done all I can.”

  Krista flared her eyes. “Come on, Liz. You need to quit beating around the bush and just tell us. What the hell is going on?”

  “He didn’t want anyone to know. Not even Stuart.”

  “Morse is dying, isn’t he?” Zimmer added in a whisper. He shot a glance at Summer, who was still tending to the dog and Edison. Everyone knew the girl was very fond of Morse, which was why he figured Liz was keeping the volume low. “And you haven’t told Summer yet.”

  Liz nodded. “Right on both counts.”

  “What is it?” Krista asked.

  Liz exhaled, taking a moment before she spoke. “His pancreas.”

  “Cancer?”

 

‹ Prev