Silo

by Jay J Falconer

  Any of those would mean certain death.

  For someone.

  Maybe him.

  Maybe the insurgent.

  Maybe Liz.

  CHAPTER 30

  “Well, would you look at that?” Dice quipped to Fletcher, the two of them standing in front of the leftmost cell door in Edison’s brig.

  If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed it. A huddle of Scabs—female Scabs, cowering in the corner of the metal-barred prison. The odd thing was, they weren’t acting like a gang of teeth-driven carnivores. More like frightened mice. “Never in a million years.”

  Dice brought his focus to the cell door sitting open, its locking mechanism a twisted mess of charred metal.

  There was also a body lying in a pool of blood on the floor a few feet beyond the entrance. Most of its face and chest were missing and there were chunks of tissue clinging to the wall beyond the corpse.

  “Who did this?” Fletcher asked.

  “Sketch, sir. He had the explosives team work their magic.”

  “A little too well, I suspect.”

  “I think they got the message though, sir.”

  “Roger that. It’s how you turn predators into passivists.” Fletcher pointed to the figure on the floor. “Except for one.”

  “Apparently, once the C4 was in place, she threw herself against the lock and took the blast straight on.”

  “To protect the others. Impressive.”

  “Yeah, who knew?” Dice said. “But it’s not like it matters.”

  “No, it doesn’t, except for the mess.”

  “At least it confirms Zimmer’s account, sir.”

  “Again, like you said, not that it matters,” Fletcher said.

  “What do you want us to do with them?”

  Fletcher held for a few seconds before he replied. “I think the answer is obvious.”

  Dice raised his rifle and pointed it at the women.

  Fletcher put his hand on the upper receiver of Dice’s weapon. “Hang on a second. I have a better idea.”

  Dice lowered his gun, his mind latching on the next most logical answer. “Something a little more entertaining?”

  “Nah, I think we’ve spent enough rounds today.”

  Dice wasn’t referring to a shooting contest, though hunting them down and blasting them apart did have some appeal. “I don’t know, boss. The men are pretty hard up for some new pussy, but I don’t think these things are going to cut it. Not unless we two-bag it. You know, in case one of them falls off in the middle.”

  “You’re missing the point, Dice.”

  “Sorry, sir. I thought you—”

  “These Scabs don’t exist just for the hell of it.”

  “Craven?”

  “He made them in that factory of his and did so for a reason.”

  “This must have been what he meant when he said he had some containment issues?”

  “Oh yeah, count on it. My guess is that these Scabs are valuable. More than we know.”

  “Which is why he never mentioned them.”

  “He never does anything without a reason.”

  “Then we have to ransom them,” Dice said.

  “That’s the smart move. Never waste an opportunity, brother,” Fletcher said.

  “Or a hard on, which is why I thought—”

  “I know what you meant,” Fletcher said. “Get a team together and bring them to the surface.”

  “I take it we’re changing plans?”

  “Negative. Nothing’s changed. Lipton is our first priority.

  “Because the refinery has to get back online.”

  “Copy that. Then we’ll go have a little chat with Craven. I’m sure he’s going to want these things back. Plus I want to see the look on his face when he realizes we know about the female Scabs. And that we have them.”

  “I would pay money to watch that shit.”

  “Entertainment is where you find it, Dice.”

  “That it is, sir,”

  “Let’s round them up and move out. We’ve got some tracking to do. Make sure Archer is up to speed. Time for him to earn his keep.”

  “Consider it done, sir.”

  * * *

  “Right. Out. Side,” Bishop told Liz in a staggered whisper as they remained hidden in the crawlspace in the back of the Launch Control Room.

  He leaned forward, bringing his eye to the edge of the cabinet, giving him a low-angle view of the room beyond.

  At least one insurgent, a stocky short man, had taken position just inside the entrance with his back to Bishop.

  Another pair of legs was visible a few feet beyond stubby man, but nothing more could be seen. At least Bishop could hear them chatting, their voices carrying to his position thanks to an echo off the cement. He listened as they continued their banter.

  “Fletcher has given the order to roll out,” insurgent one said, his accent from Boston by the sound of it.

  “It’s about time. I hate this frickin’ place. Where we headed?” asked insurgent two.

  “Northeast, apparently. He’s bringing some prisoners up, too.”

  “How many people?”

  “Didn’t say. But they’re not people.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Scabs,” insurgent one said.

  “Scabs?”

  “I shit you not. Found them in the brig. But not just any Scabs. They’re females.”

  “Seriously? Females? As in tits and ass? How’s that possible? I thought Scabs were only males.”

  “Beats me.”

  “Nobody else?”

  “Nah, we took care of the rest,” insurgent one said.

  “Roger that. Clean sweep.”

  “Just as Fletcher ordered.”

  “Good, ‘cause babysitting ain’t my thing. At least with the Scabs, we can burn ‘em if they get out of line and nobody’s gonna blink an eye,” insurgent two said.

  “I guess we got our answer then.”

  “Yep, Fletcher was serious, which is pretty much what you thought.”

  “As it should be.”

  “Blood simple,” insurgent two said in a steadfast tone.

  “Fletcher wants guards posted at all access points, then we run a final check for stragglers, starting with sublevel 8. Work our way up. Flush them out,” insurgent one said.

  “And finish them.”

  “No mercy today.”

  “Or ever. Not anymore.”

  With that, the men disappeared from view, heading to the right in unison.

  Bishop turned to Liz but held back his voice.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  He shook his head and didn’t respond, unable to find the words.

  Her eyes flared. “What? Tell me.”

  “Well, uh, you see, they—” he said in a stutter, his mouth unable to assemble the words being sent down from his brain.

  “Oh my God. Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.”

  “Sorry, Doc.”

  “Even the kids?”

  “I’m afraid so. Just heard them talking. Clean sweep. That’s the term they used.”

  “What’s that mean exactly?”

  “It means everyone, even the little ones. No witnesses. No survivors. They want this over with. Now. Once and for all.”

  “No, no, no. Not the kids,” she said as she began to sob, sending tears flooding from her eyes.

  Bishop held his tongue, wanting to let Liz deal with the news. Sometimes people need a minute before you pile ten more gallons of gas on the fire.

  A short minute later, her anguish turned into something else, stoking a wave of redness in her cheeks. “I told you we should’ve stayed. We could have helped them. We could have done something.”

  His heart sank, pushing the pain in his chest to a new level. He was already feeling what she was feeling, but he couldn’t show it. “I know why you feel the way you do. I felt the same way. But we couldn’t, Doc. There were too many of t
hem. We would have been killed along with everyone else.”

  She raised her fists and started pounding on his shoulder, her emotions obviously driving the force behind each strike.

  He didn’t resist or attempt to protect himself, knowing he had it coming for choking her out and then kidnapping her.

  In retrospect, he could have charged into the fray and taken a few of them out before he caught a bullet. But that would have been a mistake. He knew he had zero chance to claim victory. Not with these odds. It would have been over moments later. For him. For Liz. For everyone.

  She kept pounding. “You asshole. Why did you do that to me? I could’ve done something.”

  “I’m sorry, Doc, but it was the only option. Someone has to stay alive. Someone has to make it out of here—”

  Before he could finish, she stopped her assault and let her arms fall limp all at once. A moment later, her tears vanished and so did the sorrow smothering her face.

  She brought her eyes up, looking like a different person. Even her voice was deeper, more resolute, as if she’d just been possessed. “—to make them pay, right?”

  “Ah, sure, Doc. To make them pay,” he said after a momentary pause, not believing what he just heard. So much for her ‘do no harm’ stance.

  CHAPTER 31

  “So what’s the plan?” Liz asked Bishop a third time in the last minute, wondering why the man wasn’t answering.

  So far, all the guy did was take the lead and act. And talk. But now he was quiet. Like a mouse. A gun-toting mouse with the ability to kidnap women against their will.

  Granted, his heart was in the right place and she understood his reasoning, but it didn’t change the fact that he had run all quiet. An odd juxtaposition to be sure.

  “Just like that?” he asked in a sarcastic tone, breaking his silence.

  “What do you mean?”

  “From honorable doctor to make them pay? Do you know what you’re saying?”

  “Of course I do, Bishop,” she said, her hands moving in concert with her mouth. “Just look around. Everything we cherished is gone. There is nothing else. Nothing to hold on to. What’s the point?”

  “It’s called being a civilized human being.”

  “That’s rich, coming from a man like you. Kidnap a lot of women, do you?”

  “I was just doing what needed doing.”

  “Which is exactly what we’re going to do.”

  “But not here, Doc. Not now. We’re probably outnumbered a hundred to one.”

  “But they killed the children. Innocent children. Someone has to make them pay.”

  “I get that, but we need to be smart about this. Plan everything. Give ourselves a chance. Right now, we have less than zero.”

  “Okay then, when?” Liz asked, needing this guy to see things her way. He was stalling. That much was obvious.

  “Need reinforcements, first.”

  “Reinforcements? How? Everyone’s dead according to you.”

  “Not everyone.”

  Liz took a second to think about it. Then it hit her. “You mean Summer and Krista.”

  “Yeah, wherever they are. We can’t make a stand here. Not like this. It would be suicide and I can’t let that happen.”

  “So what you’re saying is we just walk away?”

  “—and live to fight another day. That’s what we do in a situation like this. Otherwise, nobody pays but us.”

  Liz took a few beats to process everything he’d just said. She didn’t want to admit it, but his answer made sense. Yet her heart hated every one of his words more than the devil himself. Even if Bishop had more experience, she still didn’t like what his plan meant.

  Bishop latched onto her arm, jolting her back to reality. “You with me, Doc?”

  She nodded, but continued to ponder, wanting to make sure she got this right. She knew he was correct about one thing—they needed a plan to make sure the payback happened. Otherwise, everyone died for no reason.

  She brought her eyes up to his. “Okay, I get all that, but I want your promise, Bishop. We don’t stop until we make them all pay. For the children and their families.”

  Bishop took a few beats, his eyes indicating he was about to answer. “Sure, Doc. For the children. You have my word. But first, we need to stay alive and go find the others. It’s the only way any of this works. We’ll get another chance, but we have to be smart and patient. Get help.”

  “Fine,” she answered, holding back the rest of what she wanted to say about thinking he’d never agree with her.

  Bishop continued, “But the problem is, I’d bet my last dollar they’ll be guarding the vault doors. Probably heavily, too. In teams. Layered inside and out. That’s how I’d do it. Cover their six.”

  “Well then, the answer is simple. Get me a gun.”

  “I appreciate that, Doc. But no chance in hell that’s ever going to happen.”

  “Trust me, I can shoot.”

  “I’m sure you can, but that’s not the point. We’ll never get through them all. Even if you are a crack shot with fifty confirmed kills, the two of us have no chance. And I mean zero chance. Not with only one way in or out. We’ll never make them pay, not by going all Rambo on their asses in a narrow corridor like that.”

  Liz paused when a new idea shot forward in her mind, from the deepest recesses of her memories. “Hey, wait a minute. I just remembered something.”

  “Okay, but make it quick. We’ve been here too long as it is.”

  She brought her arm up and aimed an index finger over his left shoulder, at an area along the wall about ten feet behind him. “You see that tarp covering the round thing?”

  Bishop whirled his neck around and peered in the direction she pointed. “Yeah, so?”

  “That’s the hatch to the airshaft. It leads to the surface.”

  “Okay, but—”

  “If I remember right, there’s a ladder inside. For emergencies. I’d say this qualifies, wouldn’t you?”

  He brought his focus back with his eyebrows pinched, looking almost pissed. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “Forgot it was there.”

  “Really? And you were just ragging on me?”

  “Sorry, Edison told me about it a long time ago. Just forgot, that’s all. I think only he, Summer, and I know about it.”

  He shrugged, looking beaten and battered. “If not, we’ll be walking right into a trap.”

  Liz scooted past him on her hands and knees. “Let’s just hope it still opens. Come on.”

  * * *

  “Well, would you look at that?” Craven said to Wilma Rice, giving her the binoculars he’d brought to the top of the observation hill.

  “What?” she asked, putting them to her face, aiming them at the barn down below.

  “On the left there. Just coming out the double doors.”

  “Oh, I see,” Wilma said. “That’s Fletcher and his crew.”

  “Did you notice who’s with them?”

  She paused, adjusting the focus on the binoculars. “Those are ours, right?”

  “The very same.”

  “At least we know what happened to them now,” Wilma answered. “Looks like a couple are missing.”

  “Might have gotten caught in the crossfire.”

  Wilma took the binoculars from her eyes and said, “Or just fought back.”

  “Well, there is that. Like all females, they are a little temperamental.”

  “If you say so, boss.”

  “And let’s not forget unpredictable.”

  “I’ll agree with you there. But not just the females—the males as well.”

  Craven nodded. “The question is, how did they get there?”

  “Edison must have found them somehow,” she said. “Do you think he was doing research on them?”

  “Wouldn’t put it past him. Though somehow I doubt it. Would go against his agrarian ways, always thinking compassion first for everyone. He was probably giving them shelter and
food, then trying to teach them to sing Amazing Grace or some shit like that. ”

  Wilma gave him the binoculars back. “Do we follow them and wait for our chance to steal them back?”

  “Fletcher will be expecting that, at least eventually, or they’ll want to trade for them, thinking they are valuable. Which is precisely why we do the opposite.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t follow, sir.”

  “We stay right here. If my calculations are correct, our best move is to wait until they roll out, then we roll in. Once we’re sure it’s safe to do so, that is.”

  “What about resistance inside?”

  “If I know Fletcher, and I think I do, there shouldn’t be any. He took care of all of that for us.”

  “Which, I take, is what you’d hoped would happen when you set this all in motion. Even before the latest adjustments.”

  Craven slapped Wilma on the shoulder blade, feeling a swell of pride fill his insides. “Sometimes a plan just comes together.”

  She cleared her throat. “Of course, we’re assuming Fletcher didn’t take Edison’s tech with him.”

  “I doubt he would even know what he was looking at.”

  “No, probably not. Let alone realize what that advanced solar tech would mean.”

  “Or the other goodies Edison’s been working on. Men like Fletcher only focus on the task at hand. As in the immediate. They never think three-dimensionally or look at the greater picture. It’s called myopic intention.”

  “That’s an interesting term.”

  “Yeah, but it fits.”

  “Can’t argue with you there.”

  “He’s either heading back to his camp with the females for God knows what, or he’s taking off for the others—”

  “—to finish them all off once and for all.”

  “Yes, all of this is completely and totally predictable. Like a moth to a flame. Kill first, then ask the important questions later.”

  “If ever.”

  “Yes, Rice, if ever.”

  “Which is why you didn’t want to follow Summer and the others earlier. I think I’m starting to understand, sir.”

  “Yes, stoke the fire and then sit back and let them do the work for you. Then step in and take what you want, all without lifting a finger.”

  Wilma nodded. “If they are going after the others, it’s going to take a while with how heavy they’re loading their transports.”