The Tipping Point: Book 9 of the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (Surviving the Fall Series - Book 9)

by Mike Kraus

  Dianne smiled at her friend’s frankness and priorities and opened the back door, handing her backpack over to Tina. “It’s all in here. Plus all the extras I could carry. That place was a gold mine. I’m doing fine, by the way; how are you?”

  “Pleasantries later,” Tina replied, grabbing the backpack from Dianne. “Jason’s at death’s door and Sarah’s beside herself with him. You and Mark talk and you can fill me in later.” With that, Tina hurried back inside and closed the door. Dianne snorted in amusement and looked at her son, who was shaking his head and smiling as he stared at the front of the house.

  “She’s in a no-nonsense mood, eh?”

  Mark nodded. “No kidding.”

  “Did she and Sarah take good care of you three? Where’s your brother and sister?”

  “They’re upstairs taking a nap; Mrs. Carson has been keeping us busy while you were gone.”

  “Uh huh.” Dianne smiled, then a concerned look crossed her face and she lowered her voice. “How’s Mrs. Statler?”

  “She’s been with Mr. Statler pretty much the whole time you’ve been gone. Josie talked her into going to the bathroom and getting a drink of water and a few bites to eat, but that was all anyone could do with her. I don’t think she’s doing well at all.”

  “Not surprising, given what she’s been going through. Do you think I made it back in time to help Jason, or….” Dianne trailed off and Mark shrugged.

  “I don’t know. Mrs. Carson’s kept us too busy to really think about it, but that’s been on purpose. Every time I’ve seen Mr. Statler he’s looked bad, but he’s been alive.”

  “Good. I hope he stays that way.” Dianne took a deep breath and sighed, rolling her shoulders as she tried to exhale some of the tension that had built up in her body.

  “How about you, mom? What happened with your arm?”

  Dianne looked down at her red hand and sleeve and grimaced. “Looks pretty bad, doesn’t it? There were a few people at the hospital who weren’t very friendly.”

  “Did you kill someone?” Mark’s question was asked with innocence and curiosity, reminding Dianne both of Jacob—his younger brother—and of when Mark had been younger, too. Dianne hesitated in answering, wanting to continue to shield him from the harsh new realities before she remembered that he had watched her gun down the man on their farm.

  “I… yes. More than one.”

  Mark looked at her arm, then into her eyes for a long moment before nodding to her decisively. “Good. That means fewer people to try and steal from and kill us.” With that, he turned toward the house. “Come on, mom; I’ll get some food ready for you while you change.”

  Dianne watched her eldest son trotting back to the house, rifle on his shoulder, and realized yet again that he was no longer a child. The first one she gave birth to, nurtured, raised and adored had grown up before her eyes and was now a young man. It hadn’t been the first time she had that realization, but after being away so much lately she felt like she was seeing everything with a renewed vision. With another sigh, she took her rifle and pistol from the truck and headed toward the house, smiling slightly at the thought of a shower and change of clothes. Mark stood on the porch, looking back at her as he held open the door.

  Just as she was about to step onto the porch, she froze. The sound was faint, barely registering as a whisper amongst the trees. It was there, though, a fell wind that signaled something terrible was drawing closer.

  “Mark!” Dianne hissed at him and he came back onto the porch, a look of concern on his face.

  “What is it?”

  “Make sure everyone’s inside—check that your brother and sister are really sleeping. Once you check, I want you to get all of the guns and ammo we’ve stashed throughout the house. Get everything into the living room and start loading any empty magazines, got it?”

  “Mom? What’s going—”

  “I need you to take care of this for me, okay? Get everything ready.”

  “Ready for what, mom?”

  Dianne turned and listened as the sound of distant, angry engines slowly grew louder and more defined.

  “Ready for war.”

  Chapter 14

  Washington, D.C.

  “I think we’re being watched.”

  “Huh?” Dr. Evans looked at Rick as they turned a corner, winding their way through the street and median as they made for the main entrance of Navy Hill. After being a Navy installation for so long—and the observatory being designated as a National Historic Landmark—the name of the place had stuck even after the State Department took over. Dr. Evans understood that a few of the buildings were used for general offices and administrative spaces, but some had received extensive upgrades on the interiors so that they could house classified projects.

  “Watched?” Jane parroted back. “All we’ve done is cross a bridge! How is it we’re being watched by anyone?”

  “For one thing, we haven’t just crossed the bridge. We’ve been driving around for twenty minutes trying to get to the front of this complex and I could swear I’ve seen movement in a couple of the buildings, following along with us as we’ve been going.”

  “Do you think it could be the Russians?” Dr. Evans asked nervously.

  “We don’t even know if there are any Russians here,” Rick replied. “So no, I don’t think so. It’s either some survivors or possibly MS-13, like Recker was saying.”

  “Sorry,” Jane said from the back seat, “for those of us who aren’t intimately familiar with the street gangs of the country, can you fill me in on who or what MS-13 is?”

  “Mara Salvatrucha. They came out of Los Angeles in the ‘80s and spread to a bunch of different cities. As I recall, the D.C. metro area was one place they had a heavy presence, so in the wake of all of this chaos they probably poured into the city proper to start looting whatever they can.”

  “How do you know about MS-13, Dr. Evans?” Rick asked.

  Dr. Evans pointed out the window. “Turn left here. It’s sad, actually. One of the programmers I worked with years ago was killed by MS-13 after his kid got tied up with the gang out in LA. I was good friends with him at the time and followed the trial of the eight people involved in the killing.”

  “Eight?” Jane’s eyed widened. “They don’t mess around, do they?”

  “Nope,” Dr. Evans shook his head. “Recker wasn’t exaggerating; we need to be very cautious if they’re here.”

  Rick hesitated. “When I was trying to get out of Los Angeles right after the event I had a brief run-in with a gang. I wonder if they were part of MS-13.”

  “Could be. Or it could have been just a group of people taking advantage of what happened. You’re sure you saw someone watching us?”

  Rick nodded. “There was movement in some windows and it wasn’t just the sun reflecting off of them. Someone’s in the area. I have no idea who it is, but we need to be careful. They’re going to know exactly where we’re going.”

  “And that,” Dr. Evans said,” is right here.” He pointed off to the left at a closed metal gate standing at the base of a sloping drive that curved up and around into the observatory grounds. Rick eased the car to a stop and put it in park, then grabbed his rifle from the rack behind his head and jumped out of the car. “You two stay here while I check the gate. Dr. Evans, get behind the wheel, would you? Just in case we need to make a fast getaway.”

  Dr. Evans nodded and climbed out of his seat, jogged around to the driver’s side and climbed in. Once he was settled, Rick slowly walked across the street, turning his head and body as he scanned their surroundings. He gave particular attention to the buildings across the street and next to Naval Hill, eying the windows for any signs of movement. None appeared, though, and he pushed forward across the street, gave one final glance around and turned his attention to the gate.

  The wrought iron was thick and heavy, and off to the side where the gate met the wall he could see part of the mechanism that would open and close it on the whim of the
guard who once sat in a small shack a few feet inside. Rick pushed lightly on the gate with one hand, felt it jiggle a bit, and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He grabbed it firmly with both hands and pulled to the right, nearly gasping in surprise as it creaked, groaned and began to move. Finding the gate unlocked and openable wasn’t what he had expected, but the surprise was a welcome one.

  Behind him in the car, Dr. Evans watched the gate roll slowly open with great interest and he put the car into drive and turned the wheel. The car crept slowly over the road and median and once the gate was open wide enough for the vehicle to fit through, Rick stepped to the side and waved for Dr. Evans to pull in.

  “Keep going,” Rick said through the open passenger window. “Pull it up and around out of sight. I’m going to close this and see if I can lock it up, then I’ll be up to join you.”

  Dr. Evans nodded and pulled through, heading up the slope and around the curve before disappearing out of sight. As soon as the car passed by the gate Rick pulled in the opposite direction and soon had it closed again. After looking around on the ground and gate without finding any signs of a way to lock it, Rick ran over to the guard shack and peeked inside. There were a few buttons on a control panel along with a stool, and a small cardboard box beneath the control panel, but no sign of any way to lock the gate even if power had been flowing to both the controls and the gate itself.

  “How on earth did they lock it?” Rick muttered to himself as he walked back to the entrance. He glanced over at where the gate met the wall and headed over to look at the mechanism that was sticking through the wall. He crouched down and opened a cover on the mechanism, then grinned as he saw a switch with the symbol of a lock on it. He pressed the switch upward with no small amount of force, feeling something inside the mechanism moving before it finally released, and there was a soft ‘thunk’ in response. Rick stood up and went back to the gate and pulled on it, then nodded with satisfaction as the gate refused to move even under his best efforts.

  “There,” he nodded, wiping his hands on his pants. “Someone could still climb over the walls but that should help keep anyone from just wandering through the front door.”

  Rick turned and headed up the slope, unslinging his rifle and studying the buildings in the complex for the first time since they had arrived. They were plain and nondescript, looking like they would fit in well in any government or university area, with no outward signs that anything secret or secure was housed in them. He rounded the corner to find Dr. Evans and Jane standing outside the squad car, both of them clutching pistols and looking nervously at a far building in the complex as Rick approached. He grew alarmed as he noticed their demeanor and walked swiftly over to them before whispering.

  “What’s up with you two?”

  “Just not really liking sitting around here in the open waiting for you,” Jane replied, shifting her weight uncomfortably between her injured legs.

  “Let’s get inside, then. Dr. Evans? You want to lead the way?”

  “Uh, yes. Just, uh… just give me a moment here.” Dr. Evans wiped his brow as he looked at the cluster of buildings around them, trying to figure out which one might have housed the individuals and hardware used in the development of Damocles.

  As the three individuals stood together looking at the buildings, Rick turned his head as he heard a faint rumble from somewhere far off in the distance. Motioning for Jane and Dr. Evans to stay put, he ran back to the edge of the building and looked down the sloping path leading to the gate where they had entered. From the top of the hill—and thanks to the fact that the trees in the area had all shed their foliage due to the season—he could see a fair distance in all directions. He scanned off to the west, toward the river and saw nothing, then realized that the sound was coming from the east and swung around to look in that direction.

  Coming down the road, weaving back and forth in between the rubble and the wrecked vehicles, were six motorcycles, their engines loud and their mufflers nonexistent. They were the type of vehicles that would rumble loudly at six in the morning on a Saturday as their riders prepared for two days of fun and adventure before heading back to work, all while their neighbors secretly wished that something would happen to the motorcycles so that they’d never be awoken by them again.

  Instead of the older, leather-clad and long grey-haired passengers that Rick so often associated with the sound, he instead saw young riders, two to a bike, their heads shaved bald or short and their exposed skin covered with ink. None of the riders wore helmets, though they all had makeshift bandoleers with ammunition on the front and rifles and shotguns on the back. Their style of dress seemed to be as much of a statement as it was a uniform—blue jeans and white or grey wife beaters and unzipped jackets that weren’t doing much to combat the cold. They pulled close to the Harry S. Truman building across the street and stopped, then the leader got off of his motorcycle, grabbed his shotgun and looked around. “All right! Looks like those assholes decided to finally move on, so they won’t be giving us trouble any more. Spread out and get to searching for supplies! We meet back here in twenty!”

  “They must be talking about Recker’s men. Damn!” Rick hissed to himself as he pressed up against the wall and slunk into a crouch, watching as the dozen riders spread out, weapons in hand, as half of them went towards the Truman building and the other half began meandering towards the general direction of Navy Hill. While the locked gate would slow them down, it wouldn’t stop them, and Rick knew that if they wanted to get into the compound they could do so in a very short amount of time. Outmanned and outgunned, Rick racked his brain, furiously trying to figure out what to do before he, Dr. Evans and Jane were spotted.

  Author’s Notes

  January 26, 2017

  With episode 9 of Surviving the Fall out of the way, we’re in the swing of the final story arcs for both Dianne and Rick and those surrounding them. Buckle up, because in Episode 10 (titled The Trade of Kings), we’re going to see all-out warfare break out.

  In Dianne’s case, the war is going to be quite literal. Seeds planted by herself and those around her as well as by the gang will come to fruition, and the harvest is upon both parties. She and her family and friends have some safety in their isolation and through the preparations they’ve made, but somehow I doubt that what they’ve done is going to be enough to stop the man in the red shirt.

  In Rick’s case, he’s about to meet some folks that will prove to be deadly, but there may be some allies in the wings waiting to sweep in and offer some temporary salvation. His war is about to become a race against time as Damocles begins to enact some of the late, endgame programs that—if not stopped—could render his, Dr. Evans and Jane’s efforts moot.

  One of the comments I received earlier in the series when Rick is at Nellis at Las Vegas and turns down the commander’s “offer” to head to Mount Weather was something along the lines that Rick wasn’t being patriotic and doing his duty to help his country. I thought that was an interesting comment since my viewpoint and priorities on Rick as a character were somewhat different when I wrote him.

  Throughout the series, Rick’s always been—at his core—a family man. He loves his wife and children and wants to do anything to see them safe and protected. Being stuck on the other side of the country from his family is merely a small bump in the road in his quest to be with them, and he’s the type of person who would figure out a way to get back home to his family even if he was stuck on the moon. I would say that his family commitment is one of his most defining features, and his commitment to his country falls behind that. Sure, he wants to help save the world, but he’s not going to sacrifice his family to do it.

  I really enjoy having that strong, family drive in Rick, and I think it’s important that he stayed true to that commitment throughout the series. So what changed in this last episode? Why, when he’s so close to home (Northern Virginia is mere hours away from Blacksburg!), is he choosing to abandon the transportation that could take him home
and stay with Dr. Evans and Jane to shut down Damocles? The difference to me is that his frame of reference and his knowledge have shifted and changed. Previously, Rick knew next to nothing about Damocles or the escalating danger it posed, and the best way he knew how to take care of his family was to get back to them as soon as possible. Once he discovered that Damocles wasn’t going to stop, and the ensuing carnage would certainly kill him and his family both, his knowledge and frame of reference changed and he realized that stopping Damocles was the best way to take care of his family.

  Rick wants to do his best. Like anyone else, he screws up. I try my best not to write perfect characters because, well, everyone has flaws. So does Rick. But he’s always, no matter what, going to do his best. And I think, at the end of the day, that his best is going to be just enough to make a difference.

  (Oh, and besides, if he had gone to Mount Weather, he would have gotten locked inside with the rest of the people there!)

  If you enjoyed this episode of Surviving the Fall or if you didn’t like something—I’d love to hear about it. You can drop me an email or send me a message or leave a comment on Facebook. You can also sign up for my newsletter where I announce new book releases and other cool stuff a few times a month.

  Answering emails and messages from my readers is the highlight of my day and every single time I get an email from someone saying how much they enjoyed reading a story it makes that day so much brighter and better.

  Thank you so very much for reading my books. Seriously, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I put an enormous amount of effort into the writing and all of the related processes and there’s nothing better than knowing that so many people are enjoying my stories.

  All the best,

  Mike

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