Killswitch Chronicles- The Complete Anthology

by G. R. Carter

  Would Continuity bring the Awakening when I get the solar power hooked up? He doubted it. Restarting the entire Network required immense power. Continuity would know humanity wasn’t ready yet. That was acceptable. Rowan and Angela had a lot of work to do to prepare, to lead more people to the Path before they could worry about the Awakening.

  He enjoyed life now that he was truly living. How I hope others experience the same joy! I will help them! By cleansing each area with fire, those who remained would be ready to follow The Path. Just like he had, The Valley would rise from the ashes of their old life like a phoenix.

  Springfield

  The Tenth Day

  Jalen peered over the city maps, listening as acting police Chief Earl Wyatt pointed out neighborhoods still shaded red. Over the last week, nearly every sector of the city came under complete control of the GangStars. Using the city’s police force as the face of the organization helped in some neighborhoods, but hurt in others. Even after years of Jordan’s influence, the city still harbored a few rival organizations, mostly Hispanic and Russian who refused to do business with his family on principle. We’ll see where that gets them now, Jalen smiled.

  “Can I join on the joke, Mr. Jordan?” Chief Wyatt asked impatiently.

  “Don’t worry about him, Chief. JJ’s just thinking about how he doesn’t have to wait in line at Club 111 anymore. He can just walk right up, now. Immediate service,” Elijah laughed.

  “Shut up, E. I could do that before, remember? I owned the joint.”

  “Well then why don’t you let us in on what was going through that giant brain of yours? We all might be enlightened,” Jalen’s best friend prodded.

  “Nothing pressing, just a little pleasure in the form of unfinished business. Now, why don’t you tell me exactly how I’m supposed to feed all these people that are now our loyal followers?”

  “That’s Malik’s area of expertise. He’s at the National Guard base out by the airport. Supposedly they have several years of rations stored up for their overseas ‘kill the little brown people’ missions,” Elijah said disgustedly.

  The chief interjected, “Why would they help us?”

  Jalen answered, “We gave them assurances that they have free passage through our areas of control. They’re going to head out east of here for something. Link up with another National Guard force, I guess. They’ll leave us some food from their storage when they do.”

  Elijah continued, “In the meantime, they’re going to let us use some of their big transport trucks, the old kind that are still running, to bring in food supplies from those prisons that Malik’s been working with. I guess they had a bunch stored up, and Malik said they wouldn’t need so much of it anymore.”

  The interim chief of police shivered. He came to power after agreeing to terms with GangStar leadership that the previous chief found unacceptable. From the look on Jalen and Elijah’s faces, he knew what the implication was. Anyone not willing to pledge loyalty to the GangStar organization faced immediate termination. And not in the employment definition of the word.

  “They’ll be bringing that food in tomorrow, we’ll store it here in the Ice building, in the basement so nobody gets any ideas about trying to take it,” Jalen informed Wyatt.

  “In fact, why don’t you and I map out the safest route in?” Elijah added with a determined scowl, the good-natured smile quickly fading from his face. “We’ll sketch it out and then give it to Malik’s drivers on the way in. We don’t want any unfortunate incidents, right, interim police chief?”

  Wyatt felt the shiver again. Dear Lord, what have I gotten myself into?

  *****

  Fumes enveloped twelve diesel transport trucks as exhaust drifted into a crisp Midwestern morning. Snorting like metal camels while idling along Interstate 72, the six-wheeled beasts sat waiting for their drivers to receive route maps highlighting the safest route to reach downtown Springfield and their destination, GangStar headquarters. Each man had a homemade black arm band with a white circle, and each vehicle had the same symbol painted on the door. Malik hadn’t instructed anyone else in the area to do that; this was their only way of telling friend from potential foe.

  Malik stood close to Robbie, watching as two police officers in wrinkled uniforms instructed the camo-clad drivers to follow their old patrol car closely, but not too closely. There were only five police cars still running in the entire city, all serving as neighborhood drug resistance program vehicles until the grid shut down. The department’s electric patrol cars became paperweights with wheels, and now they couldn’t afford to lose a single surviving car to a rear-end collision with a multi-ton truck. Springfield was no longer the capital of Illinois, but tourist dollars still flowed to the infamous 16th President’s adopted hometown. Federal dollars followed the fame to pay for high profile feel good projects such as environmentally-friendly city vehicles. That all seemed like a great idea when the future was bright with electric light, but worthless now on the other side of the event horizon.

  The policemen were oblivious to the real cargo held in the trucks. Behind a roof-high stack of canned food crates nearest the fold-down tail gate, twenty men sat crammed and concealed. These Trojan horses gave Malik’s men the opportunity to pass right through the armed guards Jalen posted at every entrance of the Ice Building. Once inside, the men would pour out of the trucks and seize control of the GangStar headquarters. While the main assault occurred, six-man hit teams were using borrowed Humvees to strike at the neighborhood headquarters of Jalen’s lead associates. With luck, the entire Jordan Inc. leadership would be decapitated within a fifteen-minute time frame.

  Malik pushed down concerns welling within him, concerns that the complex plan might fail due to relying on men who weren’t used to pulling commando style raids. Most were merely prison guards until he recruited them to his personal security force. To his pleasant surprise, he found many had prior military and police training. Most left the service after a four- or six-year stint and the private company that Illinois leased prisons from paid well for combat training. Malik’s tour of the prisons during the contract negations left no doubt in his mind why that experience was so valuable.

  These mercenaries were his now. Well compensated by a stack of gold coins as well as the knowledge that their families were safe from the roving bands of murders and rapists already wreaking havoc upon the weak. To ease their minds, and to remind them of their loyalties, Malik made sure to give the men a day to move those they wished to save into the prison complexes they would be based out of. Once the miscreants were removed, the living accommodations weren’t all that bad. The black smoke rising from surrounding towns made the conditions all the more comfortable behind the concrete and wire.

  One week, that’s all it took for people to grasp the difference between life and death. Not some game. This is the real deal, Malik thought with grim satisfaction. He made a mental note to have his historian file that away for a future case study - what morals and standards people had until they were hungry or their family was threatened. Makes the high and mighty come to realize what hard choices really are.

  He glanced at his wind up pocket watch. He took care to make sure that the squad leader in each truck had one, along with a flashlight. Time to do this, he thought as he gave the “hurry up” signal to the policemen to wrap up the driver’s meeting. The men all returned to their vehicles, meeting Malik’s confident glare with their own.

  This is going to work, he assured himself. This has to work.

  *****

  Jalen and Elijah reclined in the massive corner office reserved for only the GangStar inner circle. They were alone, enjoying a tightly wrapped marijuana cigarette that they passed back and forth as the mood struck. One of the cardinal rules of GangStar leadership was being 100% drug-free. But to the two old friends from the neighborhood, this didn’t really count as a violation. Besides, they were under a lot of pressure to make things work, and they assured each other this was the perfect way to cl
ear their minds and sharpen their decision making.

  As they joked back and forth about how well their week had gone so far – nearly flawless considering the circumstances, really – someone began pounding on the heavy wooden door designed to keep both sounds and intruders at bay.

  “It’s me, Malik,” Jalen's cousin shouted through the door. “We’re back with the supplies.”

  “Great, cuz,” Elijah slurred slightly. “Catch me up in a little while.”

  “There’s something else,” Malik continued. “We found Robbie. He’s pretty beat up, but the doctor says he thinks he’ll be okay. He wants to see you and tell you about what happened. He’s still down in the parking garage, sitting in the ambulance. The doctor wants to take him over to Memorial right now, but he insisted on talking with you first.”

  Malik heard a muttered swear and then after a few moments the door cracked open. Both Jalen and Elijah were still straightening themselves, unaware or unafraid of the smoke smell that followed them out. Four armed guards moved, cat-like, to take positions around the two men, and four more moved to clear the stairway that led down to the basement parking garage.

  As the fog slowly lifted from Jalen’s mind, he asked Malik, “Why didn’t he just give you the info, you his cuz.”

  Malik smiled back at him. “That must be some relaxing medication, JJ. I never hear the old neighborhood in your voice anymore.”

  “Shoot I was just playing, professor. You know me. Anyway, what’s up with the hush hush?” Jalen said again, regaining his composure.

  “JJ, we all work for you. I might be his cousin, but you’re his leader. Robbie and I are equals, and you are our boss. That is never lost on us,” Malik replied as they began the trip down the six flights of stairs.

  “I love you, cuz,” Jalen grinned and said as he slapped Malik on the shoulder.

  After a minute that seemed to Malik like an eternity, the group finally followed the lead bodyguards out into the dim light of the garage. The twelve transport trucks were parked nose first into spots along the wall. Each cleared the garage ceiling by just a couple inches, a detail Malik had missed and lucked out on.

  “You should have backed those things in, makes it easier to maneuver, plus there wouldn’t be anybody trying to sample the goods,” Elijah said, once more talking down to Malik.

  “We wanted to unload them without the fumes overpowering the ventilation system. So this way they won’t be running and we can do it as we have the manpower available,” Malik replied calmly. “Besides, I don’t think anyone will steal anything with all this firepower around. Where are the rest of the guards, anyway?”

  “Had a little issue with a neighborhood a few blocks away. They decided we weren’t in charge of their business. So we loaned a few of our better street fighters to our fearless police department. They promised to be thankful,” Jalen replied with a shark’s grin.

  “That’s pretty dangerous, JJ. Only having a few men to guard you. Things are still pretty crazy out there!” Malik said with a voice suddenly much louder.

  Out of the darkness between each truck, a tarp fell to the ground and M44 rifles appeared in front of over one hundred men as they quickly shuffled towards the eight body guards surrounding the GangStar leaders.

  “Throw down! Throw down!” shouted Malik’s squad leaders, approaching with eyes locked onto the weapons slung across the bodyguards' chests.

  Like slow motion, one of the bodyguards inexplicably swung his AK-47 towards the crouching troops encircling the group.

  “No! Wait!” Malik yelled to no one in particular as he grabbed Robbie and flung himself to the ground. The air erupted in thunder and lightning. Malik watched in horror as Jalen and Elijah flung backward like rag dolls, flopping back and forth on their way to the hard concrete below. Their bodyguards suffered the same fate, none able to get off a single shot in the direction of their adversaries.

  “Cease fire! Cease fire!” Malik heard a squad leader scream as he stood to pump his fist and call for calm.

  “It’s done! It’s done!” the commanders instructed, calming the nerves of the jumpy men, many of whom had never fired a rifle at anything but a wooden target on the firing range.

  Malik stared in horror at the carnage in front of him. He could barely recognize the powerful man he so loyally served for so long. The vibrant Jalen Jordan lay replaced by a broken and bloodied wreck of a body. Malik felt himself begin to wretch, sweat soaking his clothes while his head spun. Quickly he gathered himself, feeling the stares of the men now looking to him with a ‘what next’ look on their faces. Breathing deeply, closing his eyes, grabbing for the Continuity Circle he kept in his pocket to help him focus, he straightened his back and turned to meet their glares.

  It’s done, Malik agreed to himself as he checked Robbie over for wounds, relieved to find nothing but vomit on his cousin. It’s really done.

  *****

  Worry crept like fog over the Ice building conference room. In their haste to take out the GangStar leadership, Malik made the mistake of overlooking one very important part: Aldo Pavoni. Jalen Jordan’s personal bodyguard hadn’t been located anywhere in the Ice building or by the hit squads sent into the neighborhoods. Everyone assumed now that he must be on the run, looking to organize resistance and get revenge.

  Everything went so well, Malik thought. Well, I never intended to kill Jalen. But it was probably going to happen either way. I’ll have to make Marti understand.

  Pavoni was a dangerous man, and no one questioned his loyalty to the Jordan family or the GangStar organization. Now they would feel hunted until he was dealt with.

  Robbie burst through the conference room door, out of breath.

  “We found him!” he burst out, leaning over with his hands on his knees.

  “Alive?” Malik demanded.

  “Yep, and willing to talk. He’s holed up in Jalen’s house with a couple of his guys. Marti and the kids are in there with him,” Robbie informed them.

  I should have thought of that, Malik swore at himself. Should’ve secured Jalen’s house in the first sweep. Crap, I thought I was good at this mastermind stuff. I’m thinking one step ahead; I gotta go four or five out if I want to make this work.

  “OK, good. That’s a start. And knowing he’s there gives us the freedom to move on with our plan. Get messengers out to the prisons. Tell them to wrap up the selection process, get everyone behind the walls that they intend to save. Then lock’em up tight for now,” Malik commanded. “Also, make sure everyone and everything has the circle on it, that’s how you’ll know who’s with us.

  He looked at Jim Davis, a former state police SWAT team leader and now head of his security teams. “Jim, you tell each of our neighborhood tactical squads to get into the buildings we designated. We’re going to let this city burn out the trash. Once the die-off is done, we’ll move back out and see what’s left. Don’t let any of our guys get hurt trying to save a bank or a store or some stupid crap like that. There’s going to be plenty to choose from once we’re the only ones left. I’m sorry, that’s just how it has to be. We won’t be able to feed more than about 10% of the people for now. Let natural selection take its course,” Malik finished coldly.

  With a nod, the men in the conference room headed out to complete their tasks. Malik followed close behind, heading for the parking garage below.

  Time for a trip out to the suburbs, he thought. I’ve got a deal to make.

  *****

  “You’re telling me you were working for MC the whole time? Did those snakes play me for a fool?” Malik demanded. His eyes blazed, reflecting the anger welling up inside him.

  “That’s not the case at all, Malik,” Pavoni told him. “The GangStars were well respected by my Firm, and we like to be close to the people we do business with. So they sent me here to work for Jalen, and all of you, to keep you alive and operating. Call it client insurance.”

  Malik was stunned. Beyond stunned. So thinking four or five steps out isn�
�t even enough, he chastised himself. How far out do I have to go to catch up with people like this?

  “Who else knew besides you?”

  “No one except my two guys that I brought with me. And let me assure you, I had no idea the power was going out. All the Firm told me was to be ready in case something big happened. Then I was to approach Jalen and tell him that MC wanted to join forces with GangStars. Form an alliance of some kind, that we would work together,” Pavoni said.

  “Why didn’t you tell him what you knew? It’s been a week now…didn’t you think this was the ‘big’ thing that would happen?” Malik asked, making the air quotes gesture.

  “I wasn’t 100% sure. And I also thought Elijah was acting a little strange, almost like something else was going on,” Pavoni said, a rare moment of indecision appearing on his face.

  He continued: “Plus, I sent one of the guys down to ask MC for guidance, but they’re gone. I mean all the surrounding area is a mess with looting and fires and just mayhem. My guy made it to the Eads Bridge, but all he could see was that bunch of thugs from ARK, their security force. They call them Peacekeepers like it’s something out of a stupid movie. Their leader is this Diamante guy. He comes off all professional and everything, but in reality I’m guessing he made a move on our guys before they knew what hit them.”

  “You’re telling me that MC is gone?” Malik whispered, bewildered again.

  “I can’t imagine it, but the evidence says yes. I was trying to figure out the next step when you made your move,” Pavoni said.

  “Yeah, well, it didn’t go exactly according to plan. We figured you were out gunning for us…we really thought you were loyal to Jalen and Marti,” Malik admitted.