Maybe she would, a little bit.
Either way, she would try her hardest to stay relaxed. It wasn’t going to be easy, but she didn’t want to be the weakest prey, anymore.
*******
Greg/Seth
5:30 p.m. (Eastern time)
Mill Creek Hollow, PA
Greg was too busy getting an education to barhop through his college experience. He was more interested in his future than damaging brain cells by excessive drinking or ridiculous music, let alone losing brain cells by reverse-osmosis when associating with the drunken idiots. Ergo, the bar scene was not for him.
However, Greg didn’t mind being at McClain’s pub in rural Pennsylvania. The backwoods watering hole was simple. There were no tight t-shirt wearing, gel-haired having, fake-tanned meatheads standing around drinking shots and lifting weights. Just three separately-seated patrons sitting at the bar, watching the news and consuming bottles of beers. A place like this would likely have a dirty and disgusting restroom, yet if Conrad Greene was willing to use it, then so would Greg. The only aspect to McClain’s in which Greg didn’t appreciate, was the bartender.
“Excuse me, miss. Do you have wireless internet?” Greg asked. She was an overweight female with a peach-fuzzed mustache. The large mole on her cheek stirred when she realized Greg was speaking to her. It didn’t dawn on him until now, but a person living in this part of the country may not know what the internet is at all. It was unlikely she kept a computer inside her double-wide trailer.
She shined her yellow teeth, tilted her head back, and shouted, “Earl!”
The volume shocked Greg, but the other patrons continued drinking as if a mammoth didn’t scream in the middle of their bar. The experience was souring quickly since Conrad went to the restroom to wash up. Greg put his head down and tried not to make eye contact with the woman.
A man yelled in from the kitchen, “What!?”
“What’s the wifi?”
“Lake Trout!”
“Huh?”
“Lake. Trout! Two words, all-caps.”
“Got that?” She grinned at Greg.
Greg went from enjoying the solitude bar to feeling as if he would rather walk outside and burn it down. This woman was the scum of the universe. Everything about her was ugly. “Um, yes, I believe so,” he answered, pulling out Conrad’s laptop. It was government issued, which meant it was a cheap brand called Atlas with completely vanilla specs. There was nothing special about this cheap computer, even though it was the work computer of the USA’s military leader.
Hairy fingers gripped the top of his screen. Long, pink fingernails tapped on the bar. “Internet’s for paying customers. What’re ya drinking?”
“Nothing.” Greg didn’t have a desire to eat or drink anything here.
“Then no internet.”
“How about a water?” Greg was in disbelief of her aggression over the use of the internet in an otherwise empty bar.
“Only have bottled water.”
“Fine. That’s fine” He returned his attention back to the computer.
“Whatcha want to eat?”
“Ma’am, I’m trying to utilize your internet. I would prefer to do so without your interruption. If I need more water, I’ll ask. Otherwise, pretend I’m not here. Okay?”
“Something wrong?”
“With what?”
“Anything?”
“Are you really asking me if something is wrong with anything?”
Conrad shouted an order as he walked back from the restroom. “Same as usual, beautiful!”
Greg tried not to focus on the woman’s stupidity any longer. He left his unopened bottle of water sitting on the bar while he searched for the contact information of the second half of Adam’s puppet set.
Bryce Chapman was the one Adam labeled as the Voice. He was familiar with the political pundit, but never cared enough about the world of politics to familiarize himself with Chapman’s celebrity. His website was a disorganized mess of text files with a bright green backdrop. For being so famous, Greg thought his website didn’t reflect a professional. Even the brief time spent reviewing his About Me section was rather amateur. His writing was forced, weak, and boring.
Regardless, Bryce Chapman was Greg’s next target.
Greg crafted an email with urgency and enough information to tempt Chapman to leave his home in DC right away. It was better writing than any of Greg’s college papers or anything found in The Chat. Greg was steady, he was even keeled and motivated to continue on the journey Adam has placed in front of him. Some may have been broken after killing an innocent man, but not him. It was a necessary action; nothing more and nothing less.
*******
Conrad Green
1810 (Eastern time)
Mill Creek Hollow, PA
The UN got what they wanted; after years of playing nice in public, Ugo Ban enacted his revenge against President Watt. Conrad knew Ban was always searching for an opportunity but it should have never been this drastic. Millions of American citizens, innocent and oblivious, were killed. Conrad was infuriated knowing Ban crossed into American territory and was alive to tell about it.
President Uriah knew this day would come, as always, he was several steps ahead of his opponents. Conrad didn’t like his most recent plans and operations, but he respected his leader’s mentality. Red Wave was established to prevent the public from learning about a threat. Not because President Watt was worried about public perception, he proved his willingness to stand up to the public during his recent speech by speaking to them like ungrateful children. President Watt ordered Operation Red Wave because he believed it would end the Subas threat at ground zero. Without functional satellites, there was no way of knowing they were already gone from Salt Lake City when the UAV landed. He ordered Black Tide because it was the only opportunity to attack without public knowledge or speculation. Conrad didn’t agree with either operation, but he respected President Watt’s desire to protect America from danger and from themselves.
However, Conrad respected nothing about Omega. He didn’t want to be included in any of President Watt’s sweeping decisions to murder non-military colleagues. Covering up potential leaks before they happened was understandable, but at what cost? Conrad wasn’t interested in disgracing the nation, even if it meant being disgraced himself.
Thoughts like that were the reason Reyes, Chatra, and Beck were dead. Not directly of course, but anyone stepping out of Uriah’s shadow with a conscience was destined to suffer the consequences.
Omega was President Watt’s secret plot to beat the United Nations at their own game. They were willing to justify unjustifiable actions. With Omega, President Watt proved to be no different. Both sides were comfortable abusing innocent lives if it meant continued control. At the end of the day, Conrad saw control as the real issue.
Lydia swapped Conrad’s empty beer for a new one.
Lana Marx looked into the camera with tears in her eyes. “Ladies and Gentlemen, there has been impact. May God have mercy on all of us.”
A cramping sensation rushed into Conrad’s hands as they were both in tight fists. He felt hatred. He felt disappointment. He felt confusion. The landslide of Salt Lake City’s attack continued, leading to the defamation of President Uriah Watt’s country. There would come a time when Conrad would seek justice. Ban and Marshall, two enemies of the state, would pay for their transgressions.
“As a soldier, does this upset you?” Seth asked.
“It infuriates me, honestly. But it’s not my call, not my decision. Just like everyone else, I live in a world with rules and the foolish men who make them.”
Seth looked surprised at his answer. The kid wasn’t expecting to hear Conrad speak with candor. Conrad wasn’t either. He spent most of his time speaking as a military official. Even his thoughts were normally reserved from opinions or emotions. But watching his country go up in flames was going to break the veneer. There was no longer a reason to pretend to be cordia
l. America wasn’t going to be the same after today, neither would Conrad. Both would be scarred and angry. Both would be seeking revenge.
“What happens next?”
“Omega continues,” he answered. Seth’s look was a reminder that he had no idea what Conrad was talking about. Conrad shook his head. “The country is falling apart and I’ll be Vice President tomorrow.”
Seth sighed and stared at his water. The things this kid has seen, Conrad couldn’t help but pity him. He looked up to the television and said, “Now is a good time to talk about the future.”
“Not yet,” Conrad replied, “After the President’s speech.”
“With all due respect, we have a lot to talk about, sir. I’m sure you can listen to his speech on the way to DC.”
“We’re not going to DC.”
“Why not?”
“Listen, I understand you want to discuss where we go from here. I understand your urgency. More than anyone else, I respect you for what you’ve been through and don’t mean to sound harsh.” He took a sip of beer. “But we’re going to discuss this after the President speaks.”
*******
Mickey Kyle
Evening
Eastbound
“Are you comfortable?” Nino asked, pushing Mickey’s wheelchair down the hallway.
His hands and feet were strapped down, there was a thick seat belt on his waist, as well, just in case he thought he could try to break free. The constricting feeling made him feel hot, nervous, paranoid. What were they going to do? It was a long way gone from these guys being good, but their end goal was still hard to figure out. Mickey wasn’t sure if they were going to try to torture them for information (which would have been a waste), or if they were going to run tests on everyone to learn about the Pulse.
“No,” Mickey answered.
Nino cackled a fake laugh. “Well, well, well…” His voice sounded like a villain from one of those old crappy spy thrillers back in the old days. Or the bad guy from Rocky and Bullwinkle. “If you’re not comfortable now, just wait. We’re going to have a field day with you and your little friends.”
“Why?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Nino shrugged.
“Uh, yes it does. At least make it count for something.”
“Kid, if Marshall says jump, I jump. I don’t wait to ask how high. He’s a king. He’s a—“
“He’s pit bull owner. You’re the dog in the ring.”
“No. Marshall is the god, I’m the prophet. His message is domination. A message you will learn. I don’t question his motivation. I obey. You’re an objective to me. Your friends are check marks on a mission report—”
“Do you actually make check marks on a mission report?”
“Don’t interrupt me again, kid. I’ll cut your tongue out.”
“I keep hearing this threat. Do you guys actually do that?”
“Kid—“
“Is that only a Marshall thing? Like you get one of those fancy knives and you share tongue stories? It sounds kind of—”
Nino grabbed him under his chin and tilted his head back. “What did I say? Did I stutter to you, punk? Another word, another syllable, and I’ll feed your tongue to your little whore girlfriend.”
It hurt, but Mickey was enjoying this. He wanted to fight back a little. This was different than he had ever felt before, finally free from fear. With Asher gone, Mickey was the only one in their group who could fight back, and he always thought he worked best under pressure.
*******
Seth/Greg
7:14 p.m. (Eastern time)
Mill Creek Hollow, PA
It is humanity’s greatest failure; despite the species possessing the ability to prolong life, modern science has yet to achieve human immorality. Instead, humanity reproduces at an exponential rate and is replaced by a less ambitious generation. Technology and medicine have adapted, resources have become better utilized, yet man has devolved. Greg thought death was the inevitable truth mankind was too afraid to question. Thus, being chosen by Adam became the opportunity to surpass mortality.
This was important; Adam wasn’t governed by the same rules as man. He was beyond man. There was no reason to include himself in the affairs of mankind when he could so easily have destroyed the rest of the country in the same manner in which Salt Lake met its demise. Greg considered this, and wondered if his impatience was due to wanting to uncover the others who were beyond man. People like Asher, Ben, and Mona. Maybe Adam’s deliberate approach had something to do with others like them. Those three were dead from the President’s original bombing, but Greg knew there were more. It was logical for Adam to want to use the Voice and the Soldier to unite the rest of the heroes before killing them. Greg was comforted remembering his side on the chessboard.
Looking over to Greene, he was disappointed to see such a successful leader succumb to the same emotions as the average man. Conrad was depressed by the deaths of people he didn’t know. They didn’t affect his daily life in anyway. Greg would never submit to the desire to mourn. There were no beneficial results. Even after finding out Edie was dead, the lone woman in Salt Lake whom Greg enjoyed, Greg refused to allow his emotions to interrupt his plan.
Conrad should be a hardened war hero. At least, that’s what Reyes proclaimed. Greg observed a hopeless man sitting beside him. It made him question why Adam was adamant about utilizing him. More and more, Greg saw Conrad as a simple pawn, nothing more. Which meant Greg needed to use him wisely, and for a purpose.
The television displayed President Watt walking through the courtyard of the White House. At the bottom of the screen was the caption, UP NEXT: POTUS REACTS!
Greg pointed. “Gates said he made the order.”
“I doubt it,” Conrad answered. “And it’s Gathe, Gay-th.”
“Why do you doubt it?”
“I met with the President this morning. He promised to call him off.”
“And you believe him?”
“I do.”
“I’m sorry, but how much have you been drinking?” Greg said and moved his beer away. “If I’m going to order someone to be killed, I’m certainly not going to tell them about it.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I disagree. It appears you are too shortsighted to accept the truth; Watt wanted you dead.”
“Not the case. President Watt did what he believed is right. I don’t have to agree with him in order to follow his orders. He has constantly sacrificed for this country and believes in what he is doing. I know him. I trust him. If you don’t, then you’re sitting at the wrong bar. Watt must have been too late in calling off the execution of Reyes, but it was only ordered because he viewed him as a threat.”
“But he wasn’t a threat. He was protecting me.”
The irony of Greg’s indignation pertaining to the lack of respect for Reyes struck him: Greg clamored for Conrad to honor the man whom he murdered. The realization added to his emotional range. It was easier to lie once he recognized he was lying. He slammed his hands down on the bar. “I want justice! I want to talk about this. Stop delaying the inevitable!”
“Reyes wasn’t the only one, son. Men have died before him, and men will die after.” Conrad pointed up to the television screen, the President was making a bold speech while a pair of old men nodded behind him.
And then he fell over.
Greg first thought the President passed out. A quick laughter emitted from the depths of his stomach as he saw the President’s legs kick up into the air.
But the captions told a different story: PRESIDENT SHOT.
Conrad nodded his head and offered Greg a cheers with his bottle.
*******
Acacia/Sherry
4:15 p.m. (Western time)
Las Vegas, NV
“Oh my word, what just happened?” Pam said from behind the bar. It was a slow night and Pam decided to watch the news instead of serving drinks.
Acacia didn’t reply. She continued staring
at the door, waiting for Adam or the police to barge in. She couldn’t decide which would be worse. Whatever was happening on the television could wait. Acacia’s life was ruined.
“Hey! Snap out of it. Someone shot the President,” she said it like it was supposed to upset Acacia to hear the news. As if she was interested in politics.
“I didn’t vote for him.” Acacia wanted to scream and announce that she shot someone too. She didn’t care about the President. She cared about her future. She cared about what happens next. And it was driving her crazy.
Adam said the world was going to fall apart. He wasn’t a psychic though, he was the one breaking everything into pieces. He broke Acacia to the point where she killed a police officer. It was her guilt, but his effort. He egged her on until she pulled the trigger. How did she do it? Even now it felt like it could have been his finger pushing hers.
“Well, look at look that,” Big Bo said. His voice reminded her of how star-struck he acted when Roy Hadley walked into the bar.
She lifted her head enough to see an announcement; the President was dead. The rest of the country could feel bad for him, but all it did for Acacia was remind her it was only a matter of time before she would be shot dead, too. People don’t kill cops and get away with it. Even if they were manipulated or tricked. No one got away with that, especially not hookers. She remembered Jersey Rae being brought up on charges after fighting back against a cop. The cop was trying to rape her, but she was the one who spent jail time after biting off his ear. She’ll be lucky to make it to the police station alive.
Acacia looked back down and said, “Oh, well.”
She was going to stay at this bar until someone came to get her. If it were the cops, she hoped they would take her to jail. The more she thought about jail, the more she became okay with it. If she were in jail, Adam wouldn’t be able to find her. Looking back into his charcoal eyes would be worse than spending life in prison.
Dark Divide (Shadow and Shine Book 2) Page 25
