Silo

by Jay J Falconer

  Destiny shook her head, knowing these people were never going to agree to anything. Blender maybe, but the guys, no. It just wasn’t in their DNA to take the lead from a female. Yet she still had to try. “Screw them over might a bit harsh.”

  “Well, that’s exactly what you’re planning,” Flipside said.

  “Actually, I plan to renegotiate when we meet. Once they’ve traveled and committed to a meet, they will be mentally and emotionally invested. At that point, they won’t want to go home empty-handed. That’s when I plan to smooth it over and adjust the terms a bit. It’ll all work out, trust me.”

  Flipside huffed a short laugh. “That’s a big assumption. Especially if they’re not who they say they are. Could be some rogue faction looking to hunt us down. Won’t matter then how you spin it, we’ll all pay the price.”

  “Now who’s grasping at straws? Why is it always some rogue group looking to take us out?”

  “Because that’s exactly what can happen. You know it as well as I do. We have to be vigilant.”

  “But we also have needs. So we have to reach out when it makes sense,” Destiny said. “And I believe this one of those times.”

  “Is that based on another one of your gut feelings or do you have something to back up that statement with?” Blender asked.

  “Both, I guess. They have women and children they’re worried about, so that would seem to indicate that this isn’t some government kill squad or whatever.”

  “Again, that’s just what they told you,” Flipside said.

  “And you bought it,” Sawtooth added, his focus trained on Destiny.

  “Look, you guys, until there’s a reason not to, then I think we need to go with it. See what’s what. Otherwise, we’ll never find what we need. We’re running out of time and who knows when we might have this chance again? If ever. It’s not like the radio is brimming with chatter from all over the world.”

  Flipside nodded, though he didn’t look convinced, his eyes holding a pinched look.

  Sawtooth sat there stroking his beard with his lips silent.

  “It better be a neutral site, then,” Blender said.

  “Of course. That’s what our next call will be about. Logistics and location.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Krista sat slumped in the chair next to Zimmer’s recovery bed while she prepared her words. She’d already been contemplating them for the past fifteen minutes, debating which topics she was prepared to discuss and those she couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

  Some of them were questions that had to be asked, while others would depend on the responses she received. All of them were important, but some of them she really didn’t want to hear the answer to—specifically the ones involving Zimmer’s apparent gun incident and the demand on Simms.

  Zimmer stirred a moment later, his eyelids opening for the first time since he’d had life-saving surgery on his neck. The whites of his eyes showed first, then his pupils rolled into view.

  Krista sat up with her back straight and waited until his eyes shed their glassiness and focused on her. “Hey buddy. Welcome back to the land of the living.”

  “What happened?” he asked in a groaning mumble that was filled with an abundance of air, his Southern accent still in full effect.

  She put a hand on his wrist, squeezing with a gentle touch. “That’s what I want to know.”

  “Where am I?”

  “Infirmary. Doc just patched you up. It was touch and go there for a while.”

  He brought his hand up and ran the tips of his fingers across the bandage on the side of his neck. He tugged at the edge of it, looking as though he wanted to tear it off and poke around underneath.

  Krista stopped him, yanking his arm away. “Easy there, cowboy. Don’t want to undo all of Doc’s work. You know how she hates to do things twice.”

  He went to sit up, but his elbows didn’t appear to have the strength. He fell back against the pillow. “Did I get shot?”

  “No, actually, it wasn’t a bullet. It was a set of teeth.”

  “Scabs?”

  She wished that were the answer, but she couldn’t lie to him. Nor could she pass along too much information ahead of time, needing to avoid tainting his response. “Not exactly. What’s the last thing you remember?”

  Zimmer’s eyes drifted away and peered at the ceiling, looking as though he was on a mission to count the imperfections in the cement. “I was in my office doing paperwork.”

  “That’s it?”

  He held for a few seconds, then said, “Yeah, that’s what I remember. I was sitting there working on a couple of Needs Lists that had just come in, trying to figure out why certain families refused to get the message about not asking for toys for their kids.”

  “And?”

  He shrugged. “That’s it. Paperwork.”

  “Take another minute and think about it, Rod. Make sure there isn’t something else rattling around in that old melon of yours. Sometimes it takes a few for the cobwebs to clear. You just had surgery, after all.”

  He raised an eyebrow, looking as though he appreciated the extra time. He scrunched his face, then shook his head. “That’s all I know. Just doing desk work. Why, what happened? Who bit me?”

  “Not a who. A what. As in Sergeant Barkley.”

  “That fleabag?”

  “Yep. Apparently, you called Simms into your office for a meeting, while he was out walking the dog. Then, for no reason at all, you pulled a gun and told Simms to strangle Sergeant Barkley. Right then and there. Just kill him with his bare hands. That’s when the dog got loose and tore into your neck.”

  “What? Why would I ever do that? Doesn’t make sense.”

  “That’s pretty much what I thought, too, but Liz said the teeth marks match the dog’s and Barkley had blood all over him. So we know it happened. Just not sure of the why or how.”

  Zimmer sighed, his eyes thin. “Well, I wish I could remember more.”

  “Me too, because right now it’s Simms’ word against yours.”

  “Simms told you all this?”

  “Roger that. He said you pulled a gun and threatened to kill him, and that the dog was just acting in self-defense. Like any of us would.”

  Zimmer’s face turned a ghostly white. “That’s total horseshit. There’s no way any of that happened. I promise you, I would never do that. Ever.”

  “I know you wouldn’t, but I still have to ask. It’s my job as Security Chief. Somebody is lying here, and Summer is relying on me to figure out who.”

  He balled both of his fists, wrapping his fingers in the sheet covering the bed. “Well, it ain’t me. What I told you is what happened.”

  Krista flared an eyebrow, switching to her most sarcastic voice. “As far as you can remember.”

  “Yes, but I know myself and I’m telling you, I would never do what Simms is claiming I did. That’s just insanity. No respectable Southern gentleman would ever demand that an animal be killed in cold blood. Unless, of course, one was out hunting for the daily meat.”

  “I hope not, Rod, because Liz, Summer, and I would have to take action and that’s the last thing any of us wants to do. You’ve been a good friend.”

  Zimmer let go of the sheet and raised his right hand, bringing his fingers together, much like a witness preparing to take an oath on the Bible in a court of law. “I swear, I didn’t do any of this. You have to believe me.”

  She grabbed his hand and brought it down. Not so much because he needed to rest. It was more along the lines of not wanting anyone to see what her gut was already telling her—that her oldest friend was lying through his teeth and swearing to the contrary. “And if the facts don’t back up what you are saying, then what am I supposed to do?”

  “They don’t back up what I’m saying?”

  “I said if.”

  “So you’re still not sure, despite what I’m telling you.”

  “I have to be fair and impartial, Rod. It’s the only way to find the truth,” Kri
sta said, desperate to stop the next sentence from leaving her lips. Unfortunately, the solider inside her wouldn’t allow her to suppress it. “If it turns out you did this, then sanctions will result and you know what that means.”

  “It means I’m history.”

  “Yes. It’s either you, the dog, or Simms. One of you isn’t being truthful. That much is clear.”

  “Well, it’s not like the dog can tell you anything.”

  “Of course, but someone is at fault here and justice must prevail. It’s how I roll, Rod. The rules are the rules.”

  “I understand. In fact, I would expect nothing less.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way because you know better than anyone that I will keep digging until I find the truth, wherever it leads me.”

  “Then please, by all means, keep digging. Because right now, you’re barking up the wrong tree, so to speak.”

  “Interesting choice of words, my friend.”

  “Words aside, you understand what I’m saying. I need you to clear my good name. Trust me, it’s in everyone’s best interest to keep me around. Simms is the one who needs to go. Or that dog. Not me. Please, I beg you. Keep investigating.”

  “I will, but it’ll have to wait a bit,” Krista said. “We’ve got a mission to attend to first.”

  “Fletcher?”

  “No, need to deal with the E.O.D. situation.”

  “You’re meeting with them, aren’t you? Blackstone?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, we really can’t wait. Need to acquire all new seed and some chemicals to deal with the bacteria problem. That’s why we’re heading out soon.”

  “Who’s going?”

  “Me, Summer, Lipton and a few support personnel.”

  “That’s a bit thin.”

  “All we can spare, with Wicks out on mission.”

  “He and Nomad aren’t back yet?”

  “No, but they should be anytime now.”

  “Where’s the Blackstone meet?”

  “Northeast.”

  “How far?”

  “Two days. Maybe three.”

  “We don’t have the fuel for that. Not after what happened at the Trading Post. We needed that restock.”

  “I’m well aware, Rod. That’s why we’re taking the trucks Edison had retrofitted.”

  “The gasifiers?” he asked. “That’ll take twice as long.”

  “But we can burn whatever we find along the way for fuel. Flexibility for speed seems like a worthy tradeoff. Plus, we avoid using up our diesel reserves.”

  “Makes sense. I’m just not sure about your choice to have Summer along.”

  “She’ll be fine. Plus, she insisted.”

  “Damn Rules of Succession.”

  “But you have my word. I’ll get back on investigating the whole situation with Simms and the dog the minute I return.”

  “Okay, I wish it were sooner, but I can live with that. It’s not like I’m going anywhere. My gut tells me that Liz plans to keep me cooped up here for the duration.”

  “You gotta rest and give it time. You’re not a spring chicken anymore.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

  CHAPTER 24

  “Okay, it’s 21:50 Zulu, let’s fire it up, Cueball,” Destiny told her radio operator.

  “Actually, it’s Shotgun now. Got tired of the other name,” he replied, pulling out the chair and planting his rear end in the seat. He scooted it forward, bringing his knees under the table.

  “That’s the third time you’ve changed it Fred. Hard to keep up.”

  “I know, sorry. But I wanted something that fits, since you don’t want any of us to go by our real names. I used to go by Gantry, given my last name and all. It fit perfectly when I worked that lift in steel mill back in the day.”

  “Nicknames are important for security reasons and we need to stick to them. If any of us ever gets captured and put in a compromising position—”

  “Yeah, I get it, boss. No worries. Can’t spill the beans on something you don’t know in the first place. Like real names. Just want mine to be something I like, too. Not like Blender’s. She hates that name.”

  “I hope she knows she can always change it. It’s not against the rules.”

  “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to rock the boat. Being the new person and all.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to her about it and see if I can smooth it over. But it’ll need to wait until after we take care of this Nirvana business.”

  “Do you think they’re on the level?”

  “I hope so. Otherwise, we’re in trouble. It’s been months since the last contact out there, and we all know how that turned out.”

  He shook his head. “What happened to D-Day wasn’t right.”

  “No, but that’s what can happen if we’re not vigilant. It just reinforces why we all must stay focused and stick to protocols.”

  “I get it. For the good of the group. But none of us are experts at any of this. Not like the others before. Kind of a big task.”

  “But we have to try, Shotgun. We can do better. We have to.”

  “No, you’re right. We don’t have any choice. But I’m not sure Asher will ever be on board. He’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”

  “It all comes down to having faith in the process. He’ll eventually come around. He has to,” Destiny said. “As for Nirvana, they better be legit for all our sakes. Otherwise, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

  “Sawtooth said as much earlier when I bumped into him. He’s worried as hell.”

  “As he should be,” Destiny said, tapping Shotgun on the back with her hand. “Go ahead, reach out. It’s time.”

  “On it, boss,” he said, powering on the equipment. He adjusted a few settings while the lights blinked and the machine hummed, then began his transmission. “Eagle Base. Eagle Base. This is Blackstone. Come back. Over.”

  The radio hissed a random crackle as the two of them listened for a response.

  When nothing changed in the static, Destiny said, “Go ahead. Try again. They better be there.”

  Shotgun engaged the transmitter again, sending the same message. After a third, fourth, and fifth attempt, they finally heard a female respond. It was the same voice as before. “Blackstone. Eagle Base. We read you loud and clear. Over.”

  Destiny held up her hand and waited for Shotgun to give her a congratulatory hand slap, both of them smiling.

  None of their celebration was planned, but it felt good to connect with the man on that level.

  Sometimes, even the smallest of victories can keep the heart energized with hope, especially when it’s enjoyed with another. Even an underling. It was one of the ways she’d learned to foster teambuilding and earn loyalty.

  Shotgun grabbed the mic, bringing it closer to his mouth. “It’s good to hear your voice, Eagle Base. Over.”

  “Had a small delay on our end. Our apologies. Couldn’t be helped. Over.”

  “Understood. It’s time to finalize our meet. Over.”

  “Then your Ruling Committee agreed? Over.”

  Shotgun let go of the mic before angling back in his chair and looking up.

  Destiny gave him a nod. “Go ahead. Read her in. But just the minimum. Nothing more. Keep your answers short and sweet.”

  “Okay, chief,” Shotgun said, employing the mic once again. “Yes, Eagle Base. We have approval on this end. Are you ready, willing, and able? Over.”

  “Yes. Our leadership team has okayed a meet for the exchange,” the Eagle Base operator said, her tone changing in pitch and intensity as she continued, “but I’m sure you will agree, time is of the essence, so we need to move this process forward. Over.”

  “Roger that, Eagle Base,” Shotgun said.

  Before he could continue, Destiny put her hand on his shoulder and tugged.

  Shotgun released the transmit button in a snap of movement and brought his eyes around. “What�
�s up, boss?”

  “Did you hear that?”

  “What?”

  “The desperation in her voice. It just went up a few levels.”

  He smirked, looking confused. “Sorry, I must have missed that.”

  “Well, it was there.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “I’m not sure,” Destiny said, taking a handful of seconds to ponder the situation. “I think we should run a small test to find out.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “Get back on the line and tell them that our Ruling Committee only agrees to sign off if we receive a few more items to help balance out the trade.”

  “Really?”

  “Just do it.”

  “Okay, but what else do we need?”

  “Uh,” she replied in a stutter. “Let’s tell them we need cough medicine and, let’s say, some toilet paper. Twenty rolls of it.”

  “Twenty rolls?”

  “It doesn’t matter the amount. We’re just testing a theory. Let’s see what happens.”

  Shotgun didn’t respond, nor did he move, only blinking at her, his face numb.

  “Blackstone, Eagle Base,” Nirvana said across the link. “Are you still reading? Do we have a deal? Over.”

  Destiny pointed at the device, motioning for Shotgun to get busy. “Answer them. Tell them what I said. Hurry up. Before they get suspicious.”

  “Right, sorry,” Shotgun said, turning forward in his chair once again, his hand taking control of the mic. “Sorry, Eagle Base. We’re still here. However, I was just informed that while our Ruling Committee has approved the trade, they will only do so if a couple of additional items are included to balance it out. Over.”

  “What kinds of items? Over.”

  “Cough medicine and toilet paper. Over.”

  There was an extended pause before the device crackled again with a response. “Toilet paper? Over.”

  Shotgun didn’t hesitate. “Yes, twenty rolls. That’s the price. Over.”

  “Hold on. Let me confirm on this end. Over.”

  Static returned to the device, giving Destiny a chance to take a few extra breaths and calm her chest.

  That’s when Shotgun asked, “Is that what you expected?”