THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5

by Steven Konkoly

  When they crossed over the turnpike, Alex glanced out of the driver’s side window at the empty highway. Ahead of them, a sprawling complex of oversized gas stations and long, one-story garages appeared, surrounded by dozens of what he assumed were abandoned semitrailers. As they cruised past the once popular truck stop, Alex scanned for signs of recent activity. He noticed a few of the red gas tank covers next to one of the stations sat overturned on the asphalt, a clear indication that the underground tanks had been pumped dry.

  Smart. Without electricity, the station wouldn’t be able to pump the gas without an independent generator. Depending on when they were last filled before the event, the tanks represented a sizable cache of different fuels—from diesel to premium-unleaded gasoline. Most stations held up to 40,000 gallons of fuel, but an interstate stop like this might hold twice as much, the difference represented by the diesel fuel greedily consumed by semitrailers. He wondered who had arrived to pump the fuel. The state? Someone like Eli Russell?

  He kept the cars moving north toward Route 2, passing a tall, dark gray silo set amidst a sea of one-story warehouses, local businesses, and empty parking lots. The area looked untouched by time, which was mostly true. Few people had likely visited this road since winter arrived.

  By the time they reached Route 2, the businesses had given way to modest homes set back from the road. In another month or two, thick foliage from the trees and bushes would obscure most of the houses from the two-lane road.

  “Mr. Thornton says it’s creepy up here,” said Ryan.

  “He isn’t joking,” said Alex, keeping conversation to a minimum so his son could concentrate.

  Just above the horizon, the sun was a deep red globe surrounded by fiery orange clouds when they turned onto New Boston Road. The north-south orientation of the pine-tree-lined road yielded a deep canopy of shadows. If they had arrived fifteen minutes later, he might have reconsidered their headlights ban. Alex impatiently watched the digital odometer measure the mile and a half to Runway Road. He also counted about twenty driveways before they reached their final turn, surprised to find so many homes on a crumbling road near one of the business ends of the airport.

  He slowed at a stop sign next to a red, two-story barn, looking in each direction along Runway Road before turning right. They were on the final stretch. Alex’s stomach tightened as the car accelerated past several widely spaced mobile homes situated parallel to the road. The road deteriorated once they passed the last trailer home, bits of asphalt rattling around the SUV’s wheel wells. Tall pine trees flanked the road, followed on the right side by a string of worn electrical poles. Someone had decided to run electricity beyond the last cluster of houses on Runway Road.

  Using the same trick his son had used at Johnny’s Seeds, he watched for the point where the electrical lines crossed the road, figuring it would lead them to the storage site turnoff. Less than a minute later, despite the growing darkness, he spotted the lines.

  “I bet that’s it,” he said, slowing the SUV.

  The overhead lines approached, and he knew they were in the right place. The trees opened on the left side of the road, revealing a wide asphalt reinforced turnoff leading into the forest. The turnoff was clearly designed to accommodate large, multi-axle vehicles coming in or out of the hidden storage. Alex turned the SUV and pointed at the sturdy road penetrating the forest, activating his high beams. Roughly a hundred feet down the road, a chain-link cantilever gate shined in the darkness.

  “This is it,” he said, shutting off the lights.

  He glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Ed had brought the Jeep to a stop at the edge of the turnoff, hopefully keeping an eye on the road they had just travelled.

  “I’m going to reposition Ed and Charlie. They’ll watch the entrance while we recon the site.”

  “Got it,” said Ryan, reaching between the front seats and lifting his rifle out of the rear passenger foot well. “Mind if I check out the gate?”

  “That’s fine. Bring the NVGs and scan as far forward as possible, but don’t go past the gate,” said Alex. “And watch yourself. We have no idea what we’re going to find here.”

  “Yep,” said Ryan, getting out of the car.

  Alex turned the car off and opened the door, standing outside for several moments, listening. Beyond the low rumble of the Jeep’s engine, all he detected was the light rustle of the pines in the breeze. He signaled for Ed to stop the Jeep’s engine. Moments later, the sound of the pine boughs intensified, no longer masked by the Jeep’s idling engine. He closed his eyes and listened. Absolutely nothing.

  Ryan appeared on the other side of the SUV’s hood, strapping a pair of NVGs over a backward-facing, olive green ball cap. He looked calm, but serious. The past nine months had prematurely stripped away the child, leaving an undeveloped adult behind. The transition had been too quick. Ryan filled the void by embracing the warrior culture, the only thing he knew since the event. The result had been chilling, more for Alex than Kate, because he recognized the façade Ryan wore, day in and day out.

  He’d seen it on the faces of the young Marines in Iraq, who had been completely unprepared for what they’d seen on the road to Baghdad. A disaffected mask of calm confidence and bravado. It wasn’t a bad thing. They’d all worn the mask at one point or another. None of them had been prepared for the horrors they’d experienced, just like his son couldn’t have known that he’d wake up in Boston one morning to a changed world. Ryan had responded better than Alex expected; he would have been a good Marine officer. He wore the mask better than most.

  “Careful, and use your radio headset,” said Alex.

  Ryan nodded enthusiastically, removing a wired earpiece from one of the pouches on his vest. Alex did the same, testing his radio. When they were on the same channel, Ryan walked down the access road, his rifle in the patrol carry position. Alex jogged over to the Jeep.

  “Where’s Ryan going?” Ed asked, glancing nervously around at the trees.

  “There’s a gate about a hundred feet down the road,” said Alex. “He’s going to check it out.”

  “Is that a good idea?”

  “He’s not going any farther than the gate,” said Alex.

  He glanced across the front seat at Charlie, who was watching the road behind them with binoculars.

  “How does it look back there?” Alex asked him.

  “Looks clear. We didn’t see a soul on the way in,” said Charlie. “It’s almost like they evacuated this part of the state.”

  “Looks can be deceiving. I’m sure there are plenty of folks around,” said Alex. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

  “I’m almost wondering if we can’t make two trips.”

  “The thought crossed my mind,” said Alex. “We have enough gas, though it would pretty much exhaust our supply. Let’s see how the first trip goes before we start making plans for a second.”

  “I just want to get the hell out of here,” said Ed. “Can we move this along?”

  “Not a bad idea. I was thinking you should park facing the way we came, so you could keep an eye on the road while we make our way down to the site,” said Alex. “Just in case we attracted any unwanted attention on the drive in.”

  “Are you planning on driving the rest of the way in?” asked Charlie, eyes still peering through the binoculars.

  “I think we should be fine driving down. There’s nothing out here. We’ll talk on our primary channel,” said Alex, tapping the handheld radio clipped to his vest. “You still have the piece of paper with the gate codes?”

  “No, Alex. The paper flew out of my hands while we were speeding up the turnpike. I didn’t want to say anything,” said Charlie.

  Ed chuckled.

  “Sorry. Old habit, I guess,” said Alex, pausing for a second. “Not that I couldn’t picture you losing the codes.”

  “Nice,” mumbled Charlie.

  “Don’t worry, Alex. We got this covered,” said Ed. “I’m keeping a close e
ye on Scarface here.”

  “Scarface? Where did that come from?” said Charlie.

  “Oh boy,” mumbled Alex.

  “I distinctly remember you yelling, ‘Say hello to my little friend,’ when Eli Russell’s crew was rushing the cottage,” said Ed.

  Charlie shook his head. “I don’t think I said that.”

  “My wife heard you say it,” said Ed. “Pretty much everyone heard you say it.”

  “I highly doubt I’d say something like that,” insisted Charlie. “I haven’t seen that movie in years.”

  “Just like the good ole days,” said Alex. “I miss this.”

  “How about I put him in your car for the drive back?” said Ed.

  “Hey!” Charlie protested. “I have feelings too.”

  Ed laughed. “We’ll be waiting for your call.”

  Chapter 29

  Bangor, Maine

  Alex walked ahead of the creeping SUV, approaching the gate with a small notepad in his left hand. His other hand swept a powerful LED flashlight beam back and forth, searching for anything out of place. Several feet in front of the gate, he stopped in front of a black box mounted to the side of a thick metal pole. After checking for obvious booby traps, he lifted the latches on the box and opened the weather-sealed cover, revealing an illuminated keypad. Holding the notebook next to the keypad, he pressed the fifteen-digit code—followed by the # sign. The gate rumbled on its track, retracting into the forest on the right side of the road.

  He wasn’t sure if this was a good sign or a bad one. Anything connected to the grid’s power distribution system would be vulnerable to the massive energy surge created by the electromagnetic pulse, so Alex assumed the gate was connected to an independent battery pack, something sizable and long lasting. Unfortunately, he wasn’t familiar enough with the Category Five storage facilities to be sure. For all he knew, on-demand generators at the storage site powered the gates. He didn’t care either way, as long as the site was still abandoned.

  “The first gate is open. We’re heading through. Any new developments out front?” Alex asked, stepping through the gate opening.

  “Negative,” said Charlie. “It’s dark and quiet.”

  “Perfect. Let’s hope it stays that way,” said Alex, waving Ryan forward. “I don’t know how far this road goes into the forest. Hopefully not too far. It’s even darker in here.”

  “We’re ready if you need us,” said Charlie.

  “Sounds good. Fingers crossed, guys,” said Alex.

  “And toes,” Charlie added.

  Alex crossed behind the SUV and jumped in the front passenger seat, sticking his rifle through the open window. Ryan kept his head forward, watching the road in front of them through the NVGs.

  “Anything?” asked Alex.

  “Has to be a turn up there somewhere. I’ve got a wall of trees across the road in the distance,” said Ryan.

  “That’s kind of what I figured,” said Alex. “Last thing they need is someone staring down the road at a bunch of warehouses.”

  “Just like our property in Limerick,” said Ryan.

  “Yeah,” said Alex, remembering the nearly perfect sanctuary they were forced to leave. He adjusted his rifle, pushing the vertical fore grip against the side mirror and bracing the adjustable stock in his shoulder. “Take it slow. Fifteen miles per hour. Call out anything you see.”

  The SUV eased forward, its tires crackling over frequent pinecones and small branches. Every sound hit Alex’s ears like a gunshot, causing him to reconsider his plan to approach the storage site perimeter by vehicle. He dismissed the thoughts as paranoia, the crunching sounds reinforcing his assessment that the road hadn’t been used in months.

  Alex peered into the thickening darkness ahead of the vehicle, unable to distinguish the road from the forest less than a hundred feet away.

  “Definitely a left turn coming up,” said Ryan.

  “Got it,” said Alex. “Do you need any IR illumination?”

  “No. Looks like a gradual turn. Maybe two hundred feet away,” said Ryan.

  Alex activated his radio. “Coming up on a left turn. I’m guessing about a thousand feet from the gate. I’ll throw a chemlight onto the road to mark the turn, just in case I need you to approach without lights.”

  “Roger,” said Charlie. “Standing by.”

  Alex removed a chemlight from one of the pouches on his vest and waited for the turn. He spotted the turn in the last vestiges of dark blue light and cracked the green chemlight, holding it outside of the SUV so it wouldn’t obscure Ryan’s windshield view. When he felt the vehicle turn, Alex dropped the glow stick, leaving the marker behind.

  “Can you see the chemlight?” Alex asked.

  “Affirmative. Green chemlight on the road,” Charlie replied. “Looks like a straight shot all the way to the turn. We could see your brake lights the whole way.”

  “Yeah. No surprises so far,” said Alex, staring ahead as the SUV straightened out of the turn.

  “I have a tall fence line coming up in maybe five hundred feet. I’m pretty sure there’s a gate, but it’s still a little hazy. No lights at all coming from beyond the gate,” said Ryan.

  “Good. Take us about a hundred feet out from the fence. I’ll recon the site on foot, from the forest,” said Alex, switching over to his headset.

  “We have another gate coming up,” said Alex. “The site looks dark.”

  “Copy,” said Charlie.

  Alex asked Ryan, “Still nothing past the fence?”

  “Totally dark,” said Ryan. “And definitely a second gate. I can see a keypad box on the left side.”

  Alex could detect the empty space between the opaque pines flanking the road, but little beyond that. The early night sky was unwilling to lend any illumination to the scene beyond the windshield. The SUV slowed, coming to a halt in the murkiness.

  “We’re about a hundred feet out,” said Ryan.

  “Shut her down for now,” said Alex. “And I’ll need the NVGs.”

  Ryan stopped the engine, pulling the keys out of the ignition. Alex opened the door and checked his gear while Ryan unstrapped the night-vision goggles.

  “I’ll stick pretty close to the road until I get closer to the gate,” said Alex. “I want you in the woods—listening.”

  “We could use another pair of NVGs,” said Ryan.

  “We’ll make sure to grab a few once we get inside,” said Alex. “Among other things.”

  “I thought we had a strict shopping list?”

  “If we find something we need in the same warehouse, we’re taking it,” said Alex.

  “What about a Humvee?” Ryan asked, handing over the NVGs.

  “I’m pretty sure they can GPS track high-end items like that, though we might consider borrowing one to transport more food.”

  Alex tightened the NVGs over his black watch cap and adjusted the straps until the goggles aligned with his eyes when flipped down.

  “Stay out of sight, and stay on your radio,” he instructed.

  “Be careful, Dad.”

  Alex walked in front of the SUV and watched his son melt into the pine trees next to him.

  “Charlie, I’m approaching the gate on foot. Get ready to move out,” said Alex.

  “We’re ready. Still quiet up here,” said Charlie.

  “Roger. I’ll be in touch shortly.”

  Alex walked briskly along the right shoulder of the road, studying the scene beyond the fence. The single-lane road formed a boulevard between two rows of warehouses. From this distance, he could see warehouses lining each side of the road. The green image faded after he counted six similarly sized structures on each side. As he closed the gap to the fence, another series of warehouses materialized in the green murk. He also noticed a twenty-foot clearing between the fence and the forest on the left side of the road. Although he couldn’t see it, Alex assumed the same clear space existed on the right side of the road, forming a twenty-foot buffer around the perimeter of
the fence.

  The buffer made sense from a security standpoint. It prevented intruders from reaching the fence unobserved, and it sometimes signaled the presence of an electrified fence. He couldn’t imagine any way in which the facility could power an electric fence without an outside electricity source, but he’d keep it in mind on the approach.

  Alex pushed through the stiff pine boughs next to the road and broke into the untamed forest, immediately regretting the decision. Branches scraped his legs and arms, snagging his rifle and knocking his night-vision goggles askew. This wasn’t going to work. Whoever built the facility must have planted additional pines in the forest surrounding the site. He’d never seen a more tightly packed pine forest. It was nearly impassible, and any advantage he might gain from trying to observe the facility from a concealed position would be eliminated by the noise he’d make breaking through the branches. He backed out of the trees and kneeled next to the road.

  “Everything all right up there?” Ryan called.

  “Affirmative,” said Alex. “The forest is too thick for a quiet approach. I’ll wake up half of the state moving ten feet.”

  “I was about to call you about that,” said Ryan.

  “I’ll approach along the road. Seems quiet enough. I’m seeing several warehouses past the fence.”

  Charlie responded, “Sounds like we’re in business.”

  “Give me a few minutes to make sure we’re alone,” said Alex, focusing on the fence.

  He passed the keypad on the other side of the road and crouched at the edge of the gap, listening for the telltale hum of an electric fence. Nothing. The fence looked fairly standard for a security perimeter. Chain link, eight to ten feet tall, topped with razor wire. Staring down the long length of the fence to the right of the gate, the tall, matted grass separating the trees from the fence looked undisturbed. If the fence had been electrified at one point, he would expect to see a few lumps, big or small, on the ground outside of the fence.

  Turning his attention to the facility, he saw the entry road split left after the front gate, connecting to an additional boulevard of structures. He counted nine warehouse fronts on each side of the center thoroughfare. Eighteen on each road, assuming the number was the same on the unobserved row. Thirty-six in total. He sure as shit hoped the food was in one of the first warehouses, or they were in for a long night.