The End The Beginning (Humanity's New Dawn Book 1)

by Ryan Horvath

  33

  SIMON

  The first leg of Simon’s flight home landed at Los Angeles International Airport and the second leg would require a plane change.

  As he was waiting to get off the plane, Simon was awash with worried anxiety and paranoia; his earlier excitement had stayed behind in Honolulu. He’d had plenty of time to think over the last few hours in the sky and he hadn’t had many good thoughts.

  He wondered why the CIA paid him and was letting him go. He had confirmed at the bank before leaving Hawaii that he had indeed received payment for his services. He regretted not getting rid of the damned e-mail Congressman Thomas had had him make. He also had doubts about his maneuvering around the security protocols and downloading the CIA’s software. He felt stupid for thinking he could get away with that. His paranoia assured him that the almighty CIA had ways to find out what he did and, while his intentions were not to reveal to the public that there was a strange asteroid like thing orbiting the Earth, it certainly would not look that way to them.

  Now, back on the mainland Simon was sure he was in jeopardy. He’d made no effort to conceal his travel itinerary and he knew it would be very easy for the CIA to get that information. Simon suddenly realized he very well could already be under surveillance. He didn’t feel watched but that meant nothing.

  “Shit,” he muttered, trying to think of what he should do now. Simon knew he could not continue on his current travel plans. Hell, for that matter, he probably couldn’t even go home now, if ever again.

  “Shit,” he blurted again. A couple of the other passengers stole curious glances at him.

  As Simon’s mind raced, he looked down at himself. He was still wearing his beach shorts and very colorful Hawaiian print shirt and in the 10:00 PM crowd at LAX he stood out like a cold sore. The only other clothes he had with him were the pair of khaki slacks and the striped button down shirt he’d worn on the way to Honolulu just over four months ago. But he also had the hat and sunglasses he’d been provided when he got to Hawaii. He quickly knew what he had to do.

  Trying not to seem obvious, Simon surveyed the gate area around him, looking for anyone showing an interest in him. When he had convinced himself there was no one watching him, he slowly got up from his chair and joined the light foot traffic flow in the main aisle that serviced the gates. He glanced behind him twice to see if anyone was yet showing an interest in him and still he saw nothing to alarm him.

  Simon picked up his pace and soon after passing two men’s rooms, with another quick glance behind him, he ducked into the third one he came upon. He was relieved to find it was currently unoccupied. He ducked into one of the stalls, closed the door, hung his bag on the hook there and busied himself with opening it and keeping an ear out. Once the bag was open, he kicked off his flip flops, stripped down to his boxer briefs and laid the colorful island wear over the toilet paper dispenser. He removed his pants and long sleeve shirt from his bag, and quickly put them on. He had to settle for his flip flops because the shoes he had worn to Hawaii had been on their last legs and he had retired them one month into his stay there. Aside from these clothing items, his personal notebook, his tablet and cell phone, his bag contained one other bundled item which was easy enough to get through the security checkpoints without drawing unnecessary attention.

  He took the hat and sunglasses out of the bag, donned the hat and hung the glasses in the top button of his shirt. He placed his island wear in the bag and closed it. The change had taken less than two minutes and Simon had the men’s room to himself the entire time. He breathed a sigh of relief, opened the stall door, and exited. He walked straight forward to the row of sinks and wall of mirrors to check himself over.

  His change of clothes and hat coupled with his once again youthful appearance made him look nothing like the man who had walked into the men’s room. Satisfied, he slung his bag over his shoulder in a different position than he’d worn it going in. He left the men’s room, did a cautious look around, noticed no watchers that he could see and joined the uncharacteristically sparse flow of people using LAX as a waypoint on this evening. He checked his tail twice again and still was not drawn to anyone. He prayed silently that they were not on to him yet.

  After a minute or so, he came upon an arrivals/departures board which he began to scan. Where could he go? Certainly not home. He still wanted to go to Minneapolis and meet the extraordinary young man there. As he thought about it some more, he figured the CIA would try to get him at his home, or at least in Philadelphia. While he was sure they had operatives in every major city, probably even some of the minor ones, Simon had to admit that it was likely much easier to get away with a sanctioned hit on someone in their home town, where the crime can be made to look like a burglary or mugging gone awry. After some more consideration on this, he decided he was going to take the chance.

  His eyes found the Ms on the board and he found there was a flight leaving in fifteen minutes bound for Minneapolis and the departing gate was not far. The flight arrived about an hour earlier than his currently scheduled flight. He hurried to the gate and saw a small line of passengers boarding. He approached the gate agent at the counter. The flight was being operated by Southwest and his other flight was with Delta so he was going to have to pay for this.

  Not an issue he said in his head.

  The gate agent was an attractive young brunette woman of about twenty-five years of age. She was smiling before she noticed Simon but then her expression turned to concern when she saw him. As he approached, Simon had tried to look as upset as he could.

  Didn’t take much effort there he admitted to himself.

  “Sir, may I help you? Are you alright?” the gate agent asked as he flumped against the counter.

  “I’m sorry, miss,” Simon looked at the name tag affixed to her blazer, “Jennifer.” He pulled out his driver’s license and Delta boarding pass and handed them to her. “I was on the Delta flight to Minneapolis that leaves a little later but since I’ve been here on layover, my sister has called. It’s my mother. She had a heart attack again and well, they’re just not sure how long she’s going to make it.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, sir,” Jennifer said with genuine sympathy.

  “I’d really like to get there as soon as possible. Is there any room on this flight?” Simon pleaded.

  “Yes, Mr.,” Jennifer glanced down at his driver’s license. “I’m sorry, Doctor Shepherd. There is plenty of room on this flight. Which class do you prefer?”

  “Whichever gets me there the fastest. I love my mom,” Simon said with a relieved smile.

  Jennifer quickly guided her fingers across her keyboard and promptly responded with fares.

  Simon selected first-class and Jennifer asked how he would like to pay.

  “Do you accept cash here?” Simon asked her. If not, I’m screwed he thought. Simon figured using his credit cards would be a bad idea.

  “Yes, I will,” Jennifer replied with a smile.

  Simon’s spirit lifted and from the bundle in his bag that wasn’t a piece of technology or clothing he removed the cash necessary, all in $100 bills, to cover the cost of the flight. Simon had secured this bundle of cash on his stop at the bank before departing Honolulu. He didn’t know he’d be needing it so badly when he withdrew it though. And while $20,000 is a lot of money for someone to be walking around with, it hadn’t raised any eyes at the security checkpoint in Honolulu. Even if it had, he had a receipt for the withdrawal.

  Jennifer thanked him, accepted his cash, laid it next to her keyboard, and began typing again.

  Simon was grateful a mistake on his driver’s license had his middle name listed before his given name which itself had been abbreviated to the first initial. He hoped that would slow down anyone who might be trying to track his whereabouts. Since he was paying in cash instead of with his credit card, as he had when making his initial travel arrangements, he surmised that would make it all the more difficult.

  Jenni
fer finished typing and printed him a boarding pass. She handed it and Simon’s driver’s license to him.

  “Thank you so much for your help, Jennifer,” Simon said with a smile.

  “You are welcome, Dr. Shepherd. And if you don’t mind my saying, aren’t you a little young to be a doctor?” She flicked her eyelashes at him.

  Simon smiled at her. “I’m a bit of a child progeny.”

  Jennifer smiled and said, “Oh, I see. Like Sheldon Cooper.” She chuckled. “Well, you better get on board. The flight is leaving shortly. I do hope your mother pulls through.”

  Simon noticed the line of passengers were all on board.

  “Thank you, again,” Simon replied.

  He scanned his boarding pass and walked down the jet way to the aircraft. His seat was in the second row and the seat next to him was not taken. He sat down hard and set his bag in the seat next to him. A male flight attendant was already approaching.

  “Do you care for a beverage, sir?” the attendant asked Simon.

  “Yes, please. Vodka on the rocks please. A double if you would.” Simon hoped the alcohol would help him relax. His beverage arrived and Simon offered a tip which the attendant graciously accepted and slipped into his pocket. The plane was backing away from the gate now and beginning to taxi to the runway. As Simon sipped his drink, he glanced casually at the other passengers on the plane. It was a small group. Most had either settled in for a nap, gotten into a book or magazine, or were fiddling with their cell phones.

  The flight attendant came on the speaker and reminded Simon and the other passengers to turn off their phones. He was gratefully reminded to turn off the GPS function on the phone and his GPS signal ended on a runway at LAX.

  The plane took off successfully and at about 3:20 in the morning on Thursday it touched down at MSP International. The vodka had helped Simon calm down as well as the continued assurance that he was not being followed.

  Taxi traffic at the airport was high and it took about fifteen minutes before the plane was parked at the gate. Ten minutes later, Simon was walking in the terminal. Ten minutes after that, at 3:55 AM, Simon exited the airport through ticketing entrance door number two (he found it easier to catch taxis at this part of an airport) at the exact moment a certain green eyed blonde haired man entered through door number one. Had they chosen the same door, they would have likely run right into one another.

  This was lucky for Simon; but not so lucky for his would be assassin.

  34

  JACK AND BRIAN

  Bzzzzzzz…

  “Stop it,”

  Bzzzzzzzzzzzz…

  “Stop it!”

  BZZZZZZ…

  “Stop it, Bri. Right now,” Jack turned his head from his newspaper to his left to face Brian. It was Wednesday afternoon and the two young men were sitting on Jack’s deck in the sunshine. The weather was warm again and in the back of his mind, Jack wondered how long this warm streak was going to last. Ian and River were inside watching a movie.

  “You’ve been so quiet the last few hours but I can tell there’s something going on in there. What is it?” Brian prodded, verbally this time. For the last half hour, he’d been trying to get into Jack’s head and see what was bothering him but it seemed like Jack was resisting him. Brian hadn’t been able to tell if Jack knew he was doing anything or not until now.

  “It’s nothing. Well… not nothing. I just don’t have it yet. And your pecking isn’t helping. It’s starting to give me a headache,” Jack said.

  “I’m sorry. I still haven’t got the full hang of this thing yet. Sometimes I poke too hard,” Brian responded.

  Jack folded up his newspaper and laid it on the side table between them.

  “It’s alright,” Jack said, rubbing his eyes and leaning forward in his deck chair. He sighed and added, “What do you think we should do?”

  “What do you mean?” Brian queried.

  “You know what I mean. We’ve sat around too long as it is. Something bad is going to happen after this eclipse. I’m almost sure of it.” Jack stood up and walked to and leaned on a railing section and faced Brian.

  “Jack, c’mon. Eclipses happen all the time and nothing happens here on Earth. You’re just being paranoid,” Brian said.

  “I wish I could believe that but I just don’t.” Jack shook his head. “I just have this feeling. Look in my head and you’ll see it too.”

  Brian studied Jack for a moment and said, “Yes, I can see it in there but that doesn’t mean anything is going to pass because of it. Just relax okay?”

  “I wish I could but I can’t shake it. It’s nagging the fuck out of me,” Jack stated.

  “Fine then. What do you think we should do?” Brian inquired.

  “Come inside. I want to show you something,” Jack answered. He walked to the door with Brian close behind. Jack opened the door and entered the house. Brian followed. Once inside, they walked across the kitchen and down the hall to Jack’s bedroom. When they entered the bedroom, Jack told Brian to wait by the dresser. Jack walked over to the closet, opened it, and rummaged behind some clothes. The plastic hangers clicked as they were disturbed. A moment later, Jack produced a pump action shot gun.

  The sight of the weapon did not surprise Brian. He had seen it before and knew Jack occasionally hunted with an old high school friend. Jack laid the gun on his bed and went over to the night stand on his side of the bed. He squatted before the stand and opened its cabinet door. From the stand, he withdrew a fairly small hand gun stowed in a holster.

  “This is a Walther PPK. It’ll hold eight bullets in the magazine plus one in the chamber,” Jack said and he set the hand gun next to the shot gun on the bed. He squatted down again and slid a box out from under the bed and opened it. He scanned its contents.

  “I’ve got about a hundred shells for the shot gun and a couple hundred bullets for the Walther. I think we should go get more. The sooner the better too,” Jack said.

  Brian blinked at Jack, confused. “Jack, what do we need guns for? What are you thinking?”

  “Something bad is going to happen after this eclipse, Brian. We need to protect ourselves,” Jack replied.

  “From what?” Brian demanded.

  “From everyone else. Have you ever fired a gun before?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, I have, but it’s been years. ‘Everyone else’?! Jesus. That’s crazy, Jack!” Brian almost shouted.

  Jack stepped over to Brian and took Brian’s shoulders in his hands. He stared intensely into Brian’s eyes and said, “Brian, I love you. I’ve loved you for years. And Ian too, though not in the same way. I’m not crazy. I need you to trust me. Can you do that? Please?”

  Brian hesitated but then replied quietly, “Yes, Jack. Okay. I’ll trust you.”

  Jack hugged Brian and said, “Thank you.” Brian hugged back and after a moment, they separated.

  Jack returned to the bed and withdrew the Walther from its holster. He popped out the magazine and checked to make sure it was fully loaded. “This is James Bond’s gun.” He winked at Brian and smiled. “You know I’ve always had a thing for James Bond. It belonged to my adoptive father; as you know he was a police officer. When he died two years ago, he passed it on to me. I’ve tried it at the range a couple times. It’s quite effective up close. This is the safety switch,” he showed Brian and flipped the switch back and forth.

  Brian nodded and Jack set the Walther back on the bed. He picked up the shot gun and opened its chamber.

  “You’ve seen my Mossberg 500. She’s got a five plus one round magazine. She’s heavier of course than the hand gun and she can do a lot more damage. It’s a pump action so you have to pump this like so between shots.” Jack pumped the slide in demonstration. He never kept the shot gun loaded in the house so he wasn’t worried about shooting into his neighbor’s unit. “Here is the safety switch on this girl,” and he also clicked it back and forth for Brian to see. “This is how you load her.” Jack pulled a shell out and showed Bri
an the appropriate place and direction to insert the shell into the weapon.

  “Jack, how come you’re showing me this?” Brian asked.

  “So you know how to use them when… if the time comes. Ian’s got more experience than you do so I wanted to show you… just in case he or I can’t use one of them you’ll need to be able to,” Jack responded quickly.

  Brian turned white and flumped down into the chair beside the dresser. “Okay, now you’re beyond scaring me, babe. First, your ‘feeling,’ now the guns. What’s next?”

  Jack hesitated to say anything and he returned the shot gun shell to the box with the rest of them. “I think we need to leave the city.”

  “What? What do you mean? Ian and I are supposed to go back home on Sunday,” Brian reminded him.

  Jack moved over to his bedroom window and peered out through the blinds. He held the Mossberg against his hip. His back was to Brian.

  “I think you better plan on that not happening,” Jack said.

  Flustered, Brian gasped, “Okay, now you’re not making any sense.”

  Jack turned to face Brian, “Look, Bri- I asked you to trust me. You said you would. At best, you’re right and nothing happens. I’m just wrong. Then you can say ‘I told you so’ and the only harm is a little undue anxiety.”

  “And at the worst?” Brian asked. He looked extremely stressed out. His eyes were wide and there was a mist of perspiration on his brow and upper lip.

  Jack walked back over to Brian; he set the shot gun back on the bed on the way. When he got to Brian he said, “C’mere.” His arms were open.

  Brian stood and hugged Jack.

  In Brian’s ear Jack said, “At the worst, well, let’s try not to think about that.”

  “What now, Jack?” Brian finally asked.

  Jack and Brian let go of each other.

  “Let’s get Ian and River. There’s some shopping we need to do,” he answered.

  “Shopping?! You’re talking about something bad happening and you want to go buy some beer and chips?” Brian protested.