She ignored the implications and danced around the obvious state of affairs. The elevator accident was the least of her worries. She was more concerned with how that fiery chemical came down the shaft.
Did Mom and Dad get out before the fire started?
Together, she and Donovan helped Audrey over to the nearest bench. She practically sat on a cute girly pair of jeans.
“They must have been having a rummage sale,” she said to nobody in particular. The clothes were strewn around the table and bench seats as if the wind had come through and reorganized them.
“Yeah, I would have purchased these!” Peter said as he modeled the brand-name sports hoody he’d pulled over his head.
“It’s eighty degrees out, Peter. Once you warm up, you’ll curse that thing,” she chuckled. “More importantly, why didn’t you wear a hoody inside the mine, like you were supposed to.”
Peter kicked some of the shoes on the ground, as if looking for something. Donovan perked up a little, too. He spent some time looking at a bright-red pair of sports sneakers.
“Anyway, save a hoodie for your girlfriend. She’s still cold.”
“Oh, right,” Peter agreed while yanking off his treasure. He then slid it over Audrey’s head, without her assistance, and pulled it down to her waist. “Nailed it!”
The hooded sweatshirt was about ten sizes too large, but Audrey didn’t care. She kept her hands inside the sleeves and seemed to wrap it around herself.
“Well, it’s a start,” Tabby remarked. “Now she needs some pants—”
A breeze blew through the covered pavilion, chilling her wet skin. She wanted some dry clothes, too, but she refused to take something without paying for it. However, as she thought about the need to move on, the breeze blew an empty potato chip bag onto the ground. For a reason she couldn’t explain, that bag made her see the organization of the sale in a different way.
Shoes. Pants. Shirts. All of them around these tables.
There were also some brown paper bags on the tabletops. Sandwiches and juice boxes were under attack by excited flies.
“Why the heck were they eating at the sale?” she wondered aloud.
CHAPTER 22
Newport News, VA
Kyla and Captain Van Nuys stood inside the same cafeteria she and the Marines had come through earlier, but this time, she paid more attention to all the uniforms around the tables. In the time she’d been on the run, the lost uniforms had become commonplace.
“Are they all like this?” The distraught captain kneeled beside a sailor’s uniform with the typical blue and gray scrambled egg camouflage.
“I’ve seen these stacks of uniforms all the way up to the hangar deck.”
“Damn, this is total war,” Van Nuys said quietly. “No wonder no one replied up on the bridge.”
On the way up, the captain had tried to contact the bridge, but no one picked up. He got the same result for flight operations, which was also in the upper superstructure of the carrier.
“All right, miss, it looks like I have my answer.” The older man gestured a religious cross in front of him, then stood up. “I’ll have to do my mourning later. For now, what can you tell me about the servicemen on deck 6 and 7? Who’s still alive?”
“I’m sorry, but I have no idea,” Kyla replied, feeling a bit stupid. “The Marines were only looking for you because of the banging.”
“All right. I know what to do. Let’s go.” The captain ran for the same stairwell they’d used to come up, but he went back down. Kyla tried to retain a sense of direction as they descended two more decks and ran zigzag patterns through numerous bulkhead doors and service corridors. Eventually, they stood before a large door Kyla recognized.
“Nuclear engineering?” she asked. When the day started, she’d been tapping on her laptop in a computer room not far from there. She still had the bag over her shoulder—and could be back at work in about a minute if things went back to normal.
“Call it a hunch,” the captain responded before banging on the door.
Immediately, knocks came back.
“Bingo. It’s the biggest habitable compartment down below six. The guys who jacked me up must have sealed up the whole department inside; maybe to come kill them later.”
“How are we going to get them out?” she asked.
The captain was a jack of all trades. Over the next few minutes, Kyla watched as he found a handcart with a welder and torch on it. He used the torch to cut away the steel door around the lock. It swung open to reveal living, breathing people.
The captain stood at the entryway. “I’m glad to see you, sailors!”
“Hooyah!” they rallied.
“Who’s the senior down here?” Van Nuys asked of the large group of men and women.
“I am, sir. Lieutenant Gary Pfifer.”
“Ah, yes. I know you.” The captain looked around. “Why didn’t you bang on the bulkheads to draw attention?”
“They said they were posting guards outside this door. If we made a sound, they’d kill random people.”
“I see,” the captain replied unhappily.
Kyla glanced around at the mix of sailors inside the large room. There were about fifty men and women huddled near the front door. The two big reactor chambers filled most of the remaining space.
“Who do you have in here?” he continued.
“Two shifts of the nuclear reactor department, sir. We had a double shift because we were moving the ship today. That’s why there are so many of us. We got lucky, in that, at least.”
“Agreed. What’s the status of my engines? Can we get out of port?”
Kyla had been brought aboard to help with automation of the nuclear containment systems, so the vessel would be ready for sea trials. The formal commissioning was still months away, but her job would help ensure it happened on schedule. Pfifer touched on the overall state of automation, as well as more physical aspects of the propulsion systems, but that only took a few minutes.
Pfifer seemed to reach the end of his briefing. “To answer your question, sir, we really could use more time—”
“There isn’t time to do this right,” Van Nuys interjected tiredly. “We were already running with a minimal crew. With everyone dead, now we have a laughable one. You all will have to wear the hats of several different departments so we can get this ship out of dock and out of danger.”
He looked at Pfifer. “Keep whomever you need down here, but I’ll take anyone you can spare. Your job is to keep the reactors hot and spinning my screws. Others are going to have to manage the anchors, navigation, operations, and whoever is left will help me on the bridge.”
“Aye, sir.”
The captain saluted, then made his way to an intercom substation. After punching in a keycode, he picked up the microphone and started speaking.
“Attention. This is Captain Van Nuys. My understanding is that we have been attacked by forces unknown. I have confirmed massive loss of life throughout the ship. All crew currently hearing this message, please assemble in the lower mechanics’ section just aft of the main reactors. I need everyone left alive to assist in keeping this boat afloat. Captain out.”
The captain looked square at Kyla. “Come with me.” He then went out the broken hatch.
Minutes later, the surviving men and women of the crew trickled into the large maintenance room. Kyla had been through the place before as part of her duties as a contractor, but she didn’t know what went on in there.
“Gather round!” Van Nuys yelled to those arriving. “Then go where I tell you!”
The Navy veteran was an expert at seeing crewmen, hearing their old specialty, and knowing how to reassign them where they could be of most use. They shot out the door as soon as he gave them orders. Cooks went with weapons specialists. Deck’s mates went with propulsion experts.
Kyla had a little time to reflect on her luck. She’d taken the job working in the bowels of the Navy supercarrier because it paid a ton of money. O
ne condition of her contract was that she had to work six days a week until the ship completed its sea trials. It gave her plenty of time to learn the faces of the crew, if not their names.
Now there were so few of them.
“Travis!” the captain called out when he saw a new arrival. The guy dressed like a pilot, flight-suit and all.
“Max,” the new man replied. “Good to see you are still with us.”
The captain laughed. “I was beaten and bagged by men who were supposed to be friendlies. Now I’m looking for some sailors who want to help me deliver payback. You in?”
“Of course.”
The two men shook hands.
“My XO is dead,” Van Nuys added. “Want the job?”
“We don’t have enough people to launch planes, so I’m free. I’ll do what I can, sir.”
The ship shuddered below Kyla’s feet, creating a sensation like someone was playing the deep bass of rap music outside the hull.
“Shit,” the captain declared. “That was an explosion. God, I hate being right all the time. We’re already under attack.”
Over the next sixty seconds, Van Nuys directed the rest of the men and women where he wanted them to go. After each person received orders, they dutifully took off into the ship.
Finally, it was only Kyla and the captain.
“You sent some of them up top, didn’t you?” she asked. “What if there is another blast of the death ray?”
“Nah, the enemy thinks their people are taking over the ship. They can’t strike again without hitting themselves. Anyway, don’t worry about that. I’ve got something special for you, miss. And this is your weapon.” The captain walked over to a large shelf and pulled off a device that looked like an industrial-strength circular saw.
“A saw? Am I going to cut someone?” If she was in someone’s navy, her rank would be captain couch potato. It was bad enough she’d never fired a gun until today, but she’d never touched a power tool, either. Mom always had Uncle Ted come over to help with home maintenance stuff.
“Not someone. Something.” He handed over the leaf-blower-sized machine. “Take off that laptop bag. You’re going to use this to save all of our lives.”
“Oh,” she said, suddenly remembering how far out of her comfort zone she’d risen.
Washington, D.C.
After escaping the White House, Ted and Ramirez got back in the small car and he drove it back to the bridge. Along the way, Ted was haunted by the radio voices he’d heard in the Secret Service room. ‘AF’ had to be the White House because they mentioned a break-in. He didn’t find it very likely there would be two separate break-ins of note happening in the city.
‘Boomerang Two’ was almost certainly the code name for Air Force 2. It had come down at Dulles, like the radio chatter said. More importantly, it was coming back. They’d planned a three-hour window for the mission, and he knew he was going to cut it close.
Since they’d already come through on the streets, they didn’t have to stop and move cars out of their way. However, when they reached the westbound lanes of the bridge, they had to leave the car behind.
“Now we walk,” Ted remarked as he got out of the subcompact. Their getaway SUV was out on the bridge in the eastbound lanes, so he crossed the median. He only had the submachine gun slung over his back, so he started down the pedestrian footpath.
“I’ll be right behind you,” ER claimed as he brought out the duffel.
“We’ll see,” Ted muttered, because he knew how slow the other man had been leaving the White House. And sure enough, they weren’t even halfway to the truck when Ramirez dropped behind.
“Come on, guy, what are you carrying in there? It looks heavy.”
“Don’t worry about me. I got this. Orders, you know?” The man sounded determined, but the sweat dripping off his face could water a field. It meant the load was heavier than he let on.
Ted didn’t press on the issue. Orders were orders, that much was true, but they were in this together. Whatever was in that bag, it was slowing down his mission of reporting what he’d found. That had to be considered if the timeline got any tighter.
“There’s the SUV we got from the quarry,” he said when they’d run most of the length of the bridge. It sat on the wrong side of the highway, but there were no cars moving in either direction, so it wouldn’t matter.
“It’s a good thing you parked it here,” ER said. “Now we don’t have to get in someone else’s car.”
“Here, I’ll stow this in the back.” Ted reached for the duffel, intending to take the burden for the short run left, but Ramirez shied away.
The Hispanic man laughed. “If I let you carry this, I’d have to kill you. Army versus Air Force. That sort of thing…”
He considered pulling rank on the lieutenant, but the whump-whump of a helicopter carried on the air from near the reflecting pools and Lincoln Memorial. The rotor signature was familiar, but he couldn’t pin it down. An Apache, maybe.
“Come on, let’s get the hell away from here. We’ve got twenty miles to go until we’re safe.”
He knew that wasn’t true.
Nowhere was safe.
Poor Sisters Convent, Oakville, MO
The horrible attack she expected turned into a slobbering of dog kisses. Sister Rose endured them for a few seconds, still frozen with fear, until she was certain the canine teeth weren’t meant for her.
She tentatively reached out and patted the animal on the head. The playful dog seemed to bow down so she would scratch it harder.
“What is this?” she thought.
While she was positioned in front of the giant creature, it was easy to see the shiny tag hanging from a thick, black collar.
‘Deogee.’ The name confused her until she realized it wasn’t only the name, but a spelling. The letters D, O, and G.
The dog wanted to lick her some more, but she had to get off the ground. She wished she could talk to it—
“Could I speak to it?” she wondered. Would it break her vow if she talked to an animal, or did any speech count? When she began her vow of silence, Abbess Mary Francis asked if she had any questions about it. This one wasn’t even in her imagination.
She wanted to have someone to talk to, and being alone made her nervous, but nothing was worth breaking her vow.
“I truly am alone now. Just me and this dog until God comes back for me.”
The day burned on while she took the pup inside and gave it some food and water. There was no dog food, of course, but she improvised with mini pretzels. She also set out a water dish, but the female dog immediately kicked it over by accident.
“Mary Francis would not like you,” she thought with a smile. ‘Messy rooms are windows to messy souls,’ she would say.
“Was she right?” she questioned herself. Were all those rules she failed to follow the reason she was left behind?
For an hour or two in late afternoon, she and Deogee sat side by side at the front window. She imagined it was the best place to be if she wanted to catch sight of someone driving down the road. The dog probably enjoyed watching the squirrels and birds in the nearby trees.
Without warning, Deogee barked once. The stark interruption of silence nearly made her fall out of her chair.
Sister Rose grabbed the leash, afraid the dog was going to bolt, but she didn’t jump out a window or claw toward the front door. However, the pup became extremely interested in something in that direction.
“I bet I know what she wants.” She’d never had a pet in her life, but she knew when someone needed to use the restroom.
Rose opened the door, loosely gripping the leash.
When it opened, Deogee sprinted outside.
“D—” she said before stopping herself.
The accidental half-shout was enough to get the dog’s attention. It stopped on the little parking lot, then seemed to beckon her to come with.
“What are you going to do, Sister Rose?” she thought.
&nbs
p; CHAPTER 23
Tyson’s Corner, VA
Ted and Ramirez made solid time on the way back to Dulles. The roads were less clogged in the westbound lanes because rush hour had been going the other way. However, the state of the world troubled him.
“See those fires?” he remarked as he drove at nearly the speed limit. “This place is a tinderbox. It has gotten worse since we came through here earlier.”
“Yep, it’s the same as inside swamp town. No one is out here to put the fires out.”
“Surely someone survived. Somewhere out there?” His sister Becca said the TV reported the devastation started in San Francisco, but every weapon had a range. They only had to find that limit.
He also hoped his mission would be over soon, so he could go a few hours south to find his sister’s beloved daughter. She was so proud of her for landing a great job with the Navy contractor. What would he find of his niece down on that ship?
“Mmhmm,” the other man hummed.
The cabin was quiet for a minute as Ted planned ahead, until ER finally spoke. “I really appreciate you saving my life back there.”
“Nah, it was nothing. I’m glad we got out of the White House before anyone came looking for their missing robot. Whoever these people are, they have a handle on technology. That doesn’t even include whatever tech they used to wipe us out. They are bleeding edge.”
“The Chi-Coms probably have all of our tech, and then some. I think they’re the ones most likely to want to kill us.”
“If we were gone, who would buy their cheap made-in-China shit?” Ted replied. “We have a symbiotic relationship with them. Two different economic systems intertwined completely. They probably couldn’t survive without us.”
“Maybe,” the soldier replied as if he didn’t want to talk about it further.
Ted looked over at Ramirez, wondering if he should reveal what he’d found back in that basement. It wouldn’t even be an issue, except he’d already been fooled by John Jeffries back on the plane. The only person today he trusted not to be a sleeper agent was Emily Williams for the same reason she placed her trust in him. They’d protected each other in the life-or-death gunfight.
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