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

by Falconer, Jay J.

Lipton got to his feet, taking a position to the right.

  Summer sat down and brought her hands to the controls on the radio. “What frequency should I try first?”

  “Already set,” Lipton answered, leaning forward and turning on the power. “Just use the mic and say what you need to say.”

  “Like what? I’ve never done this before.”

  Krista put a hand on Summer’s shoulder. “Anything you want. Just don’t give away our position or too many details.”

  “Which is it? Anything I want or not too many details?”

  Lipton looked at Krista. “Maybe someone with a little more experience ought to be initiating. For security reasons and whatnot.”

  “Who, like you?” Krista asked.

  “I was thinking you. She’s obviously a novice. There are probably a hundred other tactical reasons, I’m sure.”

  “He’s right,” Summer said, standing in a flash. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

  Krista held for a second, then took Summer’s seat and grabbed the mic, bringing it close to her mouth. She pressed the transmit button and appeared ready to speak, but then let go of the transmit button and moved the mic away.

  “Something wrong?” Summer asked.

  Krista turned her neck and peered up at Lipton. “I don’t know; you tell me.”

  Lipton pinched his eyebrows, his face looking as though it was about to swallow itself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The frequency you chose.”

  “What about it?”

  Krista pointed at the indicators, seeing it set to twenty-three-thirty kilohertz. “Why that one?”

  “We have to start somewhere.”

  “I know that, but why set it ahead of time and why that specific one?”

  “Simple logic, really.”

  Krista huffed, shaking her head. “Bullshit.”

  Lipton didn’t waste a second, his words arriving with force. “It’s one of FEMA’s emergency frequencies.”

  “FEMA?” Summer asked.

  “It stands for Federal Emergency Management Agency. The key word being emergency.”

  Summer nodded. “Oh, a federal government thing. Makes sense.”

  “Precisely,” he said, bringing his eyes from Summer to Krista. “You see, the little squirrel gets it. Too bad we can’t say the same thing for you.”

  “No,” Krista said with a sharp tongue. “We’re not falling for it.”

  “You’re much too paranoid,” he replied.

  “With good reason. You want us to use that frequency.”

  “Of course I do; that’s the point. To make contact. It’s the most likely.”

  Krista shook her head. “Not if you wanted us to only hear static.”

  Lipton threw up his hands. “Again, total and complete lunacy.” He brought his eyes to Summer. “You see what I’m constantly dealing with here? It makes it impossible to do my work.”

  Krista stood from the chair and grabbed the man by the collar, pushing him back until his spine slammed into the wall. She twisted the fabric in her hands, lifting him up to his toes. “You already made contact, you son of a bitch. And now you don’t want us to.”

  Lipton struggled for air as he replied, “That doesn’t make any sense. How could I have made contact? You’ve been with me the whole time. Have you seen me transmit or contact anyone?”

  “He’s right. He couldn’t. You’re reading too much into it,” Summer said, stepping forward and grabbing Krista’s hands. She worked them free, allowing Lipton to step away and cough as the air stormed back into his lungs.

  Krista spun to face Summer, pointing at the radio. “Don’t you get it? That’s his.”

  “No, it’s not. You’re insane,” Lipton snapped.

  Krista never took her eyes from Summer. “Horton told me he remembered seeing it in his lab. Just a few weeks ago.”

  Lipton laughed. “He’s a Neanderthal, like the others. That man couldn’t remember what he had for breakfast this morning, let alone recall a specific piece of electronic equipment he allegedly saw way back when.”

  Summer needed clarification from Krista. “Okay, so what if it is his? What does it matter?”

  “It’s not mine. Why isn’t anyone listening to me?”

  “Because you’re a fucking liar,” Krista said, turning from Summer and taking steps toward the man.

  Summer scampered to get in front of her, using two hands to stop her advance. “Is this what you needed to vet?”

  “Roger that. I knew something was up,” Krista said. “But I had to be sure. And now I am. This man can’t be trusted.”

  Lipton smirked. “Once again, the lunatics are running the asylum.”

  “He wants us to fail,” Krista said. “Don’t you see that?”

  “But why?” Summer asked.

  “Because he’s already made a deal with someone out there. That’s why he left Frost’s camp and ran into Horton and the girl. He was on his way to meet up with someone that he doesn’t want us to know about.”

  “Wow, that’s what I call a big reach,” Lipton said, looking smug. “It doesn’t matter what I do, everyone assumes the worst.”

  Krista raised a fist at him. “Because that’s who you are. A man who’s only in it for himself.”

  “Except I did fix your radio.”

  “Only because you’re the one who disabled it first.”

  “I suppose Horton told you that, too?”

  “No, we figured that out together.”

  “Well, good for you two. But as usual, you’re both wrong. I keep telling you, that’s not my radio. I’ve never seen it before in my life.”

  Summer waited for Krista’s eyes to return to her. “Is there some way we can verify any of this?”

  Krista’s eyes dropped their focus to the floor, darting back and forth before she brought them back up. “No. And that’s exactly what he’s hoping for. He wants us to only get static; that’s why he chose the frequency ahead of time.”

  Summer understood. “So he could sneak off and go meet up with whoever he made a deal with.”

  Lipton shook his head. “Sneak off? When exactly would that happen? You have me under armed guard 24/7.”

  Krista ignored the man’s response, keeping her eyes trained on Summer. “Yes, he’d slip away as soon as we weren’t paying attention.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “We change the frequency. That’s what we do.”

  Lipton’s tone turned cynical as he moved a step closer to Summer. “You see, here’s where her delusion falls apart. There are nearly endless frequencies. Even if I did all that you say I did, which I didn’t, you’d never know which one I used to make contact. You’d spend months trying to figure that out, and that’s assuming anyone was still listening on that frequency at the exact moment when you happened to try it.”

  “He’s right,” Summer said.

  “Why don’t you try the frequency and find out? Got nothing to lose, according to her thinking,” Lipton said, his eyes glued to Summer. “Then again, it won’t prove anything if you only hear static. In my world, it’s called circular logic, trying to use the absence of a negative as some kind of proof.”

  Summer looked at him, letting the facts percolate in her brain. His face was a jumbled mess of smugness mixed together with twitches and a sour expression that never seemed to go away. But she was starting to believe him.

  Lipton continued before Summer could speak again. “I’ll tell you what. To prove I’m on the up-and-up, if you fetch me some paper, I’ll write down all the FEMA frequencies for you. I committed all seventy plus to memory a long time ago, just in case the need ever presented itself.”

  “You see what I mean? Seventy frequencies,” Krista said. “Who in their right mind does that? He’s up to something, I tell you.”

  Summer nodded, but needed to slow her Security Chief down. “Maybe, but we have to start somewhere. He’s willing to give us a list. What could it hur
t?”

  Krista didn’t respond right away, her eyes alternating between Summer and Lipton. “Okay, fine. But I’m making the calls. Same as before, just in case he hopes we’ll give our position away or something.”

  “Sure. That seems like a smart approach,” Summer said. “Just don’t use the name Nirvana.”

  “Wasn’t planning to. I was thinking Eagle Base.”

  “Why that?”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s a good American name,” Wicks added.

  “It is, assuming this doesn’t backfire,” Krista said.

  “Trust me, you’re making the right decision,” Lipton said to Summer.

  Summer walked to Lipton and stood close, her breath washing over his face. “So help me God, if this is some kind of trick, I’ll have Wicks carve you up and feed you to the Scab Girl. One piece at a time.”

  CHAPTER 37

  “This is useless,” Krista said to Summer in the Command and Control Center as she put down the microphone and sat back in the chair, letting out a sigh. “We’ve been at this for hours. There’s nobody out there.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Lipton said.

  “That nobody’s out there?”

  “No, that you’d give up so easily. It’s obvious. You are a woman of weak character.”

  Krista ignored the man, even though she wanted to thump him every time he opened his mouth. Instead, she brought her attention to Summer. “It’s time to call it quits and focus on more important things. Like figuring out what we’re going to do about the impending food shortage and that damn bacteria.”

  “Which is precisely why we’re doing this,” Lipton said.

  Krista shot Lipton daggers with her eyes. “Look, asshat, you’re not part of us. So don’t be including yourself in this ‘we’ business.”

  “I beg to differ. Your survival is my survival.”

  “Assuming we decide to keep you around longer than an hour from now.”

  “For your sake, you may need to rethink that position. Especially now that your man Morse is no longer viable.”

  Krista shook her head, forcing the tension in her chest to remain where it was. “No longer viable? Seriously? That’s what you call the horrible death of one of our closest friends?” She looked at Summer. “This is what happens when we listen to a man who has his own agenda. Nothing but a giant waste of time. Talk about diarrhea of the mouth.”

  Summer twisted her lips, tapping a hand on Krista’s back. “We still have a few channels left. Let’s give them a try, then we’ll decide. As a group.”

  “Then we’ll need to bring Liz in on this.”

  “Of course,” Summer said, turning to Wicks, who was still at his post by the exit. “Go get Liz. Tell her we need her.”

  “Roger that,” Wicks said, turning on the heels of his combat boots and disappearing in a flash.

  Ten minutes later, after two more failed attempts, Krista reset the transmitter to use the last frequency on Lipton’s list. She picked up the microphone. “Mayday. Mayday. This is Eagle Base. Is anyone out there? Please respond. This is Eagle Base broadcasting a general distress call to anyone in range. Please respond. Over.”

  The speaker on the radio resumed its chorus of crackling static, as the group waited for someone to respond.

  After another minute ticked by, Krista picked up the mic and sent the same message across the airwaves, this time deciding to ramp up the intensity in her voice. If this was to be the last attempt, she wanted it to be louder and more urgent. Not because she expected someone to answer; more so to finish with her best attempt, before getting up and calling it quits.

  “I’ve got a question,” Summer said to Lipton.

  “Sure, fire away.”

  “How do we know our signal is getting out?”

  “It is, trust me.”

  “I’d like to, but what if those connector clips I used on the terminals aren’t attached properly? Wouldn’t that screw up the antenna side of things?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Maybe we should check?”

  Lipton flared an eyebrow. “I take it you mean me. I should check.”

  “Yep.”

  Lipton walked to the junction box and bent down, using his fingers to inspect the alligator clips. He popped back up a second later. “No issues here.”

  “Like I said, this is pointless,” Krista said, just as the static on the speaker changed. It was no longer random bits of hiss. There were now quiet segments interrupting the noise, with a few squelched pops mixed in.

  “Hold on,” Summer said, leaning in close to the unit. “Do you hear that? It’s different.”

  “Try again,” Lipton said in a hurried voice, his forehead creased.

  Krista used the mic. “This is Eagle Base. Is anyone there? Please respond. We need your assistance. Over.”

  “We read you, Eagle Base. This is Blackstone. Come back. Over,” a man’s voice responded, just cutting through the static.

  Krista scooted forward in the chair, her heartbeat shooting to double its normal level. “Yes, we read you, Blackstone. But your signal is weak. Can you boost? Over.”

  Summer put a hand on Krista’s wrist, pushing the microphone away. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “What?”

  “Blackstone. Is that a person or base?”

  “Good question.”

  “You realize it doesn’t matter,” Lipton said. “We need their help either way.”

  “Yes, it does matter,” Krista answered. “We need to know who we’re dealing with. That’s why Edison was against this from the start. We don’t know who’s left out there or what risk they might pose.”

  “Just so you know, Morse always thought he could get Stuart to change his mind,” Summer said.

  “Never would’ve happened,” Krista said. “I’m pretty sure he only let Morse work on the radio to keep him busy. He would have never authorized its use. It was too big a threat.”

  “Well, obviously things have changed. On so many levels,” Summer said.

  The frequency came alive again, this time with more signal strength than before. “Eagle Base. Eagle Base. This is Blackstone. How’s the signal now? Over.”

  Krista held back her excitement, making sure her voice remained calm and consistent. “We read you five by five. Over.”

  “We didn’t think anyone was on this frequency. Over.”

  Krista pressed the transmit button again. “Well, we are and we’re damn glad to hear your voice, Blackstone. Over.”

  “What kind of emergency are you experiencing? Over.”

  “Food stores are running low and we have mouths to feed, including women and children. Can you assist? Over.”

  “Hold on,” the man said, the speaker returning to its uneven melody of hiss.

  “I wonder where they are?” Summer asked.

  “Could be clear across the country,” Lipton said, “assuming that antenna is doing its job. Possibly farther.”

  “Let’s hope not, otherwise there’s no chance of getting help anytime soon,” Krista said.

  “Eagle Base, are you still receiving? Over.” the man on the radio asked.

  “Yes, Blackstone. Standing by. Over.”

  “I’ve talked to my commander and she’s willing to discuss a possible trade. Over.”

  “His commander?” Summer asked, just as Wicks arrived with Liz.

  “What did I miss?” Liz asked.

  “We just contacted a base called Blackstone,” Summer said. “And it’s run by a woman. Just like us. How about that?”

  “A base? Where?” Liz asked.

  “Let’s find out,” Krista said, bringing the mic back to her mouth. “What’s your twenty, Blackstone? Over.”

  There was a pause before the frequency came alive again. “I’m sorry, but I can’t divulge that information. Over.”

  Krista swung her eyes to Summer. “And I thought we were paranoid.”

  Summer shrugged. “Can you blame
them? They probably never expected anyone to ever be out here.”

  “You’re wasting your breath. They’re never going to tell you,” Lipton said. “Would you?”

  “Wanna bet?” Krista said, looking at him for a few beats before bringing the mic back into position. “Blackstone, this is Eagle Base. Can you give us a general idea of your location? Are you in the USA? Over.”

  “Roger that, Eagle Base. Pacific Northwest. What’s your twenty? Over.”

  Summer put her hand over the microphone and wrapped her fingers around Krista’s. “Wait a minute. Let’s think about this. What if this is some kind of trap? I mean, who calls themselves Blackstone anyway?”

  “Probably a black site,” Wicks said, “as in CIA. Don’t trust them.”

  “He’s right,” Liz added.

  “That’s assuming any part of the government still remains,” Lipton said. “I really doubt the CIA survived what happened out there. It’s not like there’s much of a need anymore.”

  Krista brought her eyes around and studied Lipton. The man’s face usually carried a hint of arrogance, as if he knew something that everyone else didn’t. But right now, it looked as though he was forcing his expression to be something different. Like a bad poker player trying to hide his tell.

  Lipton must have noticed her noticing him because he turned his head and stared at the empty wall, running his hand over his chin.

  That was when Krista saw his fingers twitching. It brought a new idea into her brain. She let the words fly at him, no longer willing to temper her thoughts. “You son of a bitch. I knew it.”

  “What?” Summer asked.

  Krista looked at Summer. “Think about it. What are the odds that the very last frequency on the list is the one we make contact on?”

  Lipton brought his focus back to the group. “It’s called a statistical anomaly. Otherwise known as dumb luck.”

  “I doubt that,” Krista said to Summer. “He knew we’d make contact on this one. That’s why he wrote them down in the order he did.”

  Krista held the paper up and showed it to Summer, her fingers scanning the list from top to bottom. “Why else would they be out of order like this? If he’s the super brain he says he is, and he memorized them, they’d be in numerical order. Not this mess.”