Survivors: Deluge Book 3: (A Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Story)

by Kevin Partner

  His mind was spinning. He’d expected it to take weeks, or even months, to come up with a plausible candidate to pass to the master simulator. This was the one he’d developed as part of his work at SaPIEnT, the one that had warned him of the risk of evolution spoiling the original experiment. There was no more than a few days’ work between this result and running that sim. And then he’d have to run that for a few hours and, at the end of it, he might have the answer. He couldn’t turn the clock back and undo the catastrophe, but he could give humanity back its future.

  “What’s that?” Jodi said, standing up suddenly and cupping her hand to her ear.

  “I can’t hear anything.”

  She moved to the door and leaned out. Then the sound of the children calling out came through from outside—though whether they were frightened or excited, he couldn’t say.

  “Oh my God. It’s a helicopter,” Jodi said. “Sounds like it’s landing!”

  Chapter 7

  Okie

  Ellie brought the dinghy around and Patrick reached out and grabbed the steel leg of what looked like a water tower. He wrapped the rope around it and tied it in a loose knot as Ellie twisted the rear of the dinghy so that it lay against the other leg, hiding them from the land. Just in front was a second, identical, tower.

  “I think that’s Tinker Air Force Base,” Ellie said, shutting off the outboard and pointing downward. “Jeez, there must be billions of dollars of equipment rotting down there.”

  Ahead of them, the highway rose gently out of the water and, as she looked beyond it, Ellie could see a flat landscape of low buildings, some standing dry, others partly submerged while, between them, fingers of water traced out the lowest contours. Farther away, she could see that, as the land continued to rise, it formed a solid, dry cityscape with, in the far distance, the dark shapes of tower blocks jutting out of the horizon.

  There was no sign of movement, though Ellie knew that people must live in those more distant buildings. She scanned the water, picking out a path that would take them as far inland as possible before they had to abandon the dinghy. Kujira was lashed to a stand of trees a few miles out to sea where a hill had once been. She knew it was risky, but no one could stay behind.

  “Over there,” she said, pointing past the bright blue top of a Best Buy poking out of the sea a couple of hundred yards northwest of them. Beside it, a narrow band of water flowed in toward the city center.

  Patrick nodded, then untied the rope. He cast a glance at Max, who sat huddled in the middle of the inflatable with Hank opposite him. He held a canvas pack close to his chest. He’d been angry that they’d left the boat, despite the fact that he claimed he’d hated every moment of it. He was close to a breakthrough, he said, but had been forced to dump the raw data onto the laptop and shut it down. The boy would only be happy once they were on dry land and he could re-enter the digital world, shutting out the natural.

  “Okay, ready?” Ellie called.

  Again, Patrick nodded, then gripped the front of the dinghy as with a sputtering roar, the outboard started up again and they headed across the gap.

  Ellie looked left and right, scanning for any sign that they’d been seen, but it looked as though this part of the city had been evacuated. She checked behind, then turned to keep her eyes on the gap between buildings she was aiming for. In places, the water was so shallow here that there was a risk they’d hit a truck, and she was using the height of the streetlights to gauge their danger. They zipped past a Target sign, then she was forced to rip the outboard around as the back end of a car surfaced suddenly, disturbed, perhaps, by their progress through the water. Patrick fell forward and she found herself caught between laughter and fear as he rolled onto his back and a wave of filthy water engulfed him.

  The stare he gave her was just as filthy, but he looked so pathetic she shouted an apology and pointed to the roof of Best Buy. “We’ll stop there,” she shouted. “You can get your spare clothes out of your pack. And make sure you don’t swallow any water.”

  Ellie held on to the fire escape stairs as Patrick clambered across, then threw his pack over. “Might as well take a look while you’re up there,” she called out.

  “Sure,” Patrick replied, climbing the last flight of steps before emerging onto the roof.

  She could see his top half as he put the pack on the wall and rummaged for something dry, then he disappeared.

  “Where’s he gone?” she said, after a few minutes. “I told him to have a look, not paint a landscape.”

  She’d just jumped over so she could follow him when he reappeared. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “I’ve got a solar charger!” he said, holding up a small box.

  Her mouth dropped open. “You went inside? You went shopping while we waited out here like idiots?”

  “You told me to take a look!”

  “At the view, you moron!”

  Now it was his turn to gape wordlessly. In the end, he decided the only way to break the stalemate was to disappear again, though this time he came back quickly and scampered down the stairs before she could call out.

  “Another couple of hundred yards and we’ll be able to make landfall. We should be able to pick a way through from there.”

  She grunted in reluctant acknowledgment and helped him back onto the dinghy.

  He threw the solar charger to Max. “There you are, son. That should keep your laptop battery topped up.”

  The boy smiled at him. “That’s so cool!”

  Ellie scowled as she fired up the outboard again and steered the boat toward a tall antenna that she could now see was on dry land, surrounded by blocks of suburban houses. Beyond them a small white spire signaled a church. If she looked in the right direction, she could pretend that she was seeing normality, though there was no sign of any people moving around.

  Ellie braced herself as the outboard motor took them across the increasingly choppy water, her eyes scanning the surface for anything that might rip the dinghy to pieces from underneath. She could see Max and Hank in her peripheral vision, the older man looking increasingly green about the gills. She’d learned, over the days they’d spent together, that he was no sailor, but he bore his discomfort well and she’d found herself growing to like and respect him.

  “Port!” Patrick cried, and Ellie yanked the outboard tiller left, and braced her feet as the dinghy lurched.

  Patrick was leaning over the bow of the little boat staring at the surface and watching as a sharp-looking pillar of metal skimmed past them. “Watch it!” he called. “It’s getting shallow. Cut down the revs.”

  Ellie was already slowing down, but now she turned off the engine entirely and allowed the inflatable to drift in toward where the water lapped onto dry land.

  With a yell of effort, Patrick leaped over the remaining water and onto the asphalt, shaking the sea out of his left sneaker as he steadied himself and took the rope, pulling the dinghy up until it was secure.

  Ellie jumped off, patting the handgun at her hip. The Glock 17 had been a parting gift from Buzz though, Ellie reflected, if he’d known that Jodi had stolen the flash drive and handed it to them before leaving, he’d have been more likely to use the weapon than give it to them.

  “Blimey, it’s creepy,” Patrick said, scanning the nearby houses.

  Ellie helped Max and Hank out of the boat, then they all dragged it to the yard of the nearest ranch house, which stood on a corner. A plastic Captain America shield lay among the grass which was tall enough to tickle her naked calves. Nearby, a Darth Maul two-handed light saber bore testament to the genre mashup battle that had taken place here before the water arrived.

  They heaved the inflatable over a low brick wall and into the overgrown back yard, then Ellie stood beside Patrick and looked along the road. At its end, she could see the church spire and, beyond it, the brick and concrete facade of a middle school.

  She could hear nothing but the wind in her ears and the gentle rush of waves gnawin
g at the edge of civilization.

  “Come on,” she said, “we might as well get some miles behind us. Reckon we could find our way back here?”

  Patrick shrugged. “Maybe. I guess there’s not that many churches on the waterline. How are you doing?” he said, patting Hank on the shoulder.

  “Oh, I’m okay. Glad to be on dry land, even when it looks so out of whack. Wonder where everyone went?”

  “Evacuated,” Ellie said. “I guess they had the sickness here and moved everyone away from the water’s edge.”

  Patrick slung the pack over his shoulder. “Then let’s go find them.”

  They passed along the road like spies infiltrating an enemy city, but they saw no living things except the occasional stray dog and feral cat. Cars sat in most of the driveways, suggesting at least an element of planning to the evacuation. This hadn’t been a mad, panicked stampede, but rather an organized retreat from the sea.

  The main door of the Methodist church was open a crack and Ellie couldn’t resist climbing the steps to the ornate brick-fronted building and looking inside. “Good grief.”

  Dozens of beds had been arranged in rows, mud marring the blue carpet, with the pews pushed against the wall. Double doors opened into a larger hall with polished wooden floors and even more beds.

  “Wow, they must have had hundreds here,” Patrick said. “Families, by the looks of it. I guess these are the ones who lost their homes down the road. The community really came together.”

  “By the grace of God,” Hank said. “Are you a man of faith, Pat?”

  Patrick gave a crooked smile. “I’m British. The only religion we’ve got is football—and not the nancy version you have over here. Mind you,” he said, as the smile disappeared, “that’s all gone now. Hard to believe. Old Trafford, Elland Road, The Emirates. All gone.”

  Hank put an arm around him as they shuffled out of the church and into the fresh air.

  “Stop right there! Put your hands up. No fast movements.”

  A young woman in a blue-gray shirt and navy pants with a gold badge on her chest held a gun pointed at them as her colleague, an African American man, moved cautiously toward them.

  He circled around behind them and pulled the gun from Ellie’s back pocket and the shotgun from Hank’s hand. “Any more weapons?” he demanded.

  “I’ve got a knife,” Patrick said, his hands high in the air. “In my belt.”

  “Look, we’re only traveling through,” Ellie said.

  The female officer’s face creased in obvious doubt. “Where did you come from? Mostly we find looters here.”

  “We came by water. From Arkansas.”

  Now the woman made no effort to hide her doubt. “So, where’s your boat, exactly?”

  “I’ll show you, if you like.”

  Ellie and the others led the officers back to the ranch house on the corner and pointed out the inflatable.

  “You came from Arkansas in that?”

  Ellie sighed. “No, we have a catamaran tied up a few miles offshore.”

  “What do you think, Nel?” the female officer said, turning to her colleague.

  He shrugged, keeping his gun leveled on them. “I guess their story checks out. They don’t look like looters to me.”

  The woman lowered her weapon. “Agreed. I’m Officer Masterson and this is my colleague, Officer Haynes. We will escort you to the nearest processing center. I must warn you I’m authorized to use deadly force in the event of noncompliance with my orders. Do you understand?”

  They nodded, and Ellie began to breathe again. As they walked back toward the church, she spoke to Masterson. “Can you tell me what the situation is here?”

  “Better than some places, worse than others, I guess. Half the city’s underwater, and we got camps set up for our people, and others for folks like you.”

  “Like us?”

  She nodded without making eye contact. “Incomers. Most come from Tulsa and Dallas, some from the west. If you’re really just passing through, then my advice is to get beyond the city limits as fast as you can.”

  “Why?”

  Masterson edged a little closer. “The mayor prioritizes Okies. And I’ve heard there’s disease in some of the camps. No, if I were you, I’d get out of here.”

  “That’s okay. We’re heading west.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m looking for my daughter. She lives in LA.”

  The woman’s face darkened. “You know LA is…”

  “Yeah. Underwater. Max here created a map based on sea levels.”

  Masterson glanced around at Max who was trudging along beside Hank. “Yeah, I’ve seen maps like that. Freaks me out to see so much of the country below water. I was born in New Jersey. All gone.”

  “I know. It’s impossible to get your head around. We’ve sailed up from Florida. Crossed half an ocean over what was once the South and Midwest. I just can’t begin to get my head around how many people must have died.”

  Silence fell again as they walked along the deserted streets.

  “Where are you taking us?” Ellie asked as they made a wide circuit around the empty middle school.

  “Rose State College,” Masterson said. “It’s only a couple of blocks. There’s a reception center there. You’ll be debriefed and then, if you want, you’ll be able to get transportation across the city.”

  “That’d be great,” Ellie said.

  Patrick sped up a little so he was walking on the other side of Ellie. “Officer, I’m puzzled. How did you know we were there?”

  Masterson looked across at him as they walked. “I don’t know specifically. Control sent me, but I don’t know what tipped them off. Some of the CCTV works, and we’ve got spotters keeping an eye on the water. I guess someone saw you. You look familiar, by the way.”

  Ellie could sense Patrick smiling, even though she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking in his direction.

  “Yeah, I’ve been in a few movies. Patrick Reid.”

  “Oh, right,” she said with unmistakable disappointment.

  To her credit, Ellie still didn’t look in Patrick’s direction. She reckoned she could feel the heat from his embarrassment burning into the back of her head.

  They turned onto a wider boulevard with ranch houses on the right and a lightly wooded area of green on the left and settled into a rhythm as they walked along.

  “Raise your hands, bitte.”

  The command came from behind a tree and Ellie spun around to see a large man in a long black coat emerge, a large hand gun held out in front of him.

  “Nein! I do not wish to kill you,” the man said in a heavy German accent, snapping his weapon around so it locked onto Masterson as she brought her gun up.

  She froze. “Who the hell are you?”

  “My name is not important. I have business with your prisoners. Now, drop your weapons, keep your hands up where I can see you, and all will end well.”

  The man continued forward until he was standing on the edge of the road, regarding them all. “Which of you is Doctor Baxter?”

  “What?” Ellie’s cry exploded from her mouth as if fueled by her fear.

  “Not you, at least,” he said. Then he pointed the gun as if it were a finger, first at Hank and then Max. “You are an old man. It is not you. This is a boy. It is not you.”

  “What’s going on here?” Masterson demanded.

  The gun snapped around to her. “Silence!” Then it moved back again so it was facing Patrick. “So, it is you. You do not look as I remember your image.”

  “I’m not Buzz! My name’s Patrick Reid, I’m a movie actor.”

  The man shook his big head. “Nein. Baxter’s brother, he is an actor. Baxter—the one I seek—is a scientist.”

  “He’s not here!” Patrick said.

  “He must be. I am not mistake—Stop!”

  There was a blur to the side as Masterson went for her gun, which lay by her feet. She froze, but the big handgun in the hands
of their attacker swung around.

  BANG!

  Ellie’s hands went to her ears as Haynes fell backward, arms splaying out, his weapon flying off.

  In that split second, Patrick brought his elbow up, connecting with the man’s jaw and snapping his neck back, blood flying out from between his teeth. He rolled to the edge of the road, then down a slight slope.

  “Nel!” Masterson called out, kneeling beside him and pushing her hand against the red stain spreading across his chest.

  BANG!

  Ellie looked back to see the German struggling to his feet. She dropped to where Masterson was trying to stem the blood flow and pulled Haynes’s discarded weapon from the ground beside him.

  She turned and brought it to bear, shooting high and wide in her panic as the shaking arm of their attacker moved in her direction.

  “Go!” Patrick barked, pointing Masterson’s gun directly at the German.

  The man began to turn toward Patrick.

  BANG!

  Ellie’s shot hit this time and the man fell to the ground.

  “Come on, we got to get out of here,” Hank said as Max cowered behind him. “Unless you plan to finish the job yerself. He aiten’t dead.”

  Patrick helped Masterson drag the unconscious Haynes along the road, leaving a bloody trail, until they reached the cover of a wooden fence surrounding the first ranch house on that side of the road.

  Patrick kicked the door open and pulled Haynes into the darkness where he lay on the living room carpet, a red circle emerging from behind his shoulder.

  “Nelson!” Masterson said, as she pulled his shirt apart. “Can you hear me?”

  There was no sound. Ellie put her hand on Masterson’s arm.

  “He’s dead. I’m sorry.”

  Chapter 8

  Mojave

  They walked in silence through the night, following the edge of the road in the dim reflected light of a declining moon. A gentle desert wind soothed Bobby’s sun-sizzled face as he fought to still the wheels in his mind.