Minus America

by E. E. Isherwood

  ER seemed okay, though. If he was a sleeper, why did the mechanical dog go after him?

  “I heard some radio chatter near the president’s bowling alley,” he said matter-of-factly. He kept his eyes ahead, vaguely noticing a large fire tearing through some houses in a big subdivision to his left.

  “He keeps a radio in his bowling alley? He must be paranoid as all hell.”

  Ted laughed with the other man for a short time. “Yeah, I guess he wasn’t paranoid enough. The bad guys got him and everyone else.”

  “Except for us. We’re still fighting.” The army lieutenant tapped his rifle sitting butt-down on the floorboard.

  “Yeah, well, I think I heard the enemy. They were talking about the break in at the White House. That’s why I was in such a hurry to get out of there.”

  “Makes sense.”

  Ted looked seriously to the other man. “They know about the pickup.”

  ER reacted with surprise. “Our extraction?”

  “They know the exact time Air Force Two is coming back for us.”

  “They said four-thirty?”

  “On the nose,” Ted agreed while touching his nose.

  “Well, I was going to save this for a special occasion, but my bag is filled with guns. I took them from a Secret Service guard shack near the Oval Office. We’ll be ready if we need to fight.”

  “Roger that. You’ve done well—”

  He was cut off by the sight of vehicle movement ahead. “Shit!”

  Ted mashed the brakes.

  “What is it?”

  “Hold on,” Ted ordered as they leaned forward with sudden deceleration. “Get down. It’s coming right for us!”

  The military convoy headed their way in the eastbound lanes. He might have been able to drive off the highway and escape notice, though it would be risky. The abandoned cars would help obscure their movement, but there was no guarantee they wouldn’t be seen once they were away from the pavement.

  Ted shut off the motor and got low in his seat.

  “Duck!” he ordered.

  Ramirez had gotten lower, but he wasn’t low enough for Ted’s liking. He reached over and pulled the guy where he wanted him.

  “When the gun trucks get here, stay low, okay? They will think we’re simply one more vehicle that ran out of gas or was already stopped here on this piece of the interstate.” There were a few other cars nearby, but he’d braked in a relatively clear stretch. They were alone.

  The two men bent down while watching each other across the center console. He wanted to believe ER was who he said, but there was no way to trust anyone when it came to risking lives. If the man put up his head and got spotted, it would be intentional.

  Ted thought of the two P229s awkwardly stuffed in his pockets and the other pistol hanging from his waistband.

  “No,” he thought. Ramirez wouldn’t give him up, would he?

  The convoy arrived with a familiar rumble. The whiny Humvee engines passed by quickly because the convoy was in a hurry. It spanked his chaps he couldn’t see what unit was inside those vehicles, but there was no way to safely check.

  ER shifted his position, getting a little higher.

  “The fuck?” he said aloud. His hand went lazily to his back, where he could grab his pistol. However, he didn’t touch it, because Ramirez got low again.

  “Leg cramp,” the guy said with a wince.

  Ted bit his lip as more Humvees cruised by. He didn’t want to believe the amiable lieutenant was working for the enemy team, but he couldn’t shut the door on the thought until the convoy was all the way gone.

  He wondered how many trucks were out there. That might give him some sense of unit size, even if he didn’t know its identity. He started counting the individual vehicles passing, but also gained confidence his plan to play possum had worked to perfection.

  Ted counted to thirteen, plus a few he missed at the start. The unit wasn’t larger than a platoon or three, depending on how the Humvees were configured.

  ER was the first to speak. “Does it bother you these guys seem to travel at will? It’s like they know there isn’t going to be any resistance on the ground.”

  “That does bother me,” Ted said slowly. “A lot of things do today.”

  Bonne Terre, MO

  Tabby got reflective as Peter dressed Audrey in warmer clothes.

  The quaint rummage sale was what happened during “normal” times in the small town. Whatever disaster befell the mine, her parents, and the rest of the field trip, it had disrupted all the “normal” like a black hole would devour the stars. The people at the sale must have run off in the panic.

  The only thing that mattered was getting back to Mom and Dad.

  “The mine is that way.” She stood up like it was time to go. She also pointed across the open field of the park to railroad tracks. They were the only ones in town, and she’d driven over them every day on the way to school, so confidence was high she could follow them back to the mine.

  “Let’s go,” Peter said with disappointment. “I want to get back to class and learn about math and spelling. Seriously, what could be more exciting?”

  Audrey tried to laugh. “I know, right?”

  The only concession Tabby made about not wanting to take anything of value was shoes. They wouldn’t get very far without proper footwear. While the teens did their shopping, she found a comfortable pair of running shoes and put them on with no socks.

  “I’ll bring money back later today,” she said as if talking to the salesperson.

  She strode out onto the grass to check the fit. When they felt all right, she waved the kids over. “Okay, we’ve gotten enough stuff. Let’s go back.”

  Audrey was now in a navy-blue hoodie with Raiders printed in big letters; it was her old high school’s team name. She’d found black stretch pants similar to Tabby’s.

  Peter had on his same jeans and T-shirt, but he added a large blue windbreaker.

  Donovan went all-out. He’d dumped his red tracksuit and now wore a blue one. He’d put on the red sneakers he’d been eying, which made him look like the sirens of a police car.

  They started the walk, but Tabby saw right away one of them wasn’t adjusting.

  “Donovan, what’s your favorite subject in school?” The young kid was in shock. Tabby recognized the glassy eyes and mopey walk from first aid videos she’d watched during her tour certification program.

  “I don’t know, PE, I guess,” he said with all the excitement of a computer.

  Tabby tried to sound excited. “I didn’t mind PE in high school. I want to study rocks in college, though.”

  She expected some feedback, or acknowledgement, but Donovan simply kept walking. Neither of the other kids responded to her, either, so she joined them in listening to the grasshoppers.

  “Just get them home,” she said to remind herself to keep calm.

  Once they crossed the field and got to the tracks, it was only a couple of minutes before they were in the main part of town. The city park and lake were at the edge of the small community, and the town itself wasn’t much more than a mile across.

  By a stroke of luck, they had to pass her house to get to the mine.

  “That’s where I live.” She pointed to a modest two-story home made of brick. “Let me get my keys and I can drive us the rest of the way.”

  The three kids waited on her lawn while she bounded up the stairs to the front porch. After one quick look back, she went inside. They never locked the doors.

  No one was home, which was what she expected. Mom and Dad would be waiting for her at the mine. That knowledge drove her forward, and she resisted the urge to change her wet clothes. It would take time to change, and she didn’t want to leave the kids alone for too long.

  After grabbing the keys, she ran into the garage and hopped in the car.

  The normalcy of it made her appreciate the quiet act of sitting in silence.

  “Thirty minutes ago, I thought I was going to di
e.”

  Hearing the words come out of her mouth made her remember every grisly detail of her escape. It was what she imagined it would be like if she was in a car accident and saw her life flash before her eyes.

  She put her hands and head on the steering wheel, because she felt the rockslide of emotions give way inside her soul.

  “Be strong, girl,” she said a moment before it all came out.

  It started with a sneaky sob. In seconds, she felt tears roll down her cheeks. The weight of responsibility for the kids had taken a heavy toll. Almost being free of them helped her appreciate how close she’d come to ruining more lives than her own. She didn’t want that burden a second longer than necessary.

  “I’m coming, D-dad,” she sniffled.

  The only thing that helped her recompose herself was that the three members of her tour group were outside the garage door wondering where she was.

  “Suck it up, buttercup,” she declared, mimicking what Dad always said. She wiped the tears on her sleeve.

  Tabby allowed another minute to net the butterfly of her emotions and hide it away. By the time she opened the main garage door and started the car, she felt like she’d gotten a grip on herself.

  “What took you?” Peter said when she backed down the gravel driveway to the street. “Can I go in and use your bathroom?”

  If she’d thought of that when she first went in, she might have brought them all inside. However, she didn’t want to go back in and risk re-igniting her own emotions.

  “You can use the facilities at the mine. We’re literally like two minutes away.”

  “Okay, but it’s your fault if I let loose in your car.”

  “Eww,” Audrey replied, sounding like she found it funny.

  The two lovebirds jumped in the back. Donovan took the front.

  “Buckle up,” she said in her tour guide voice. “This is one trip today that should have no surprises.”

  All the kids laughed, which made her feel better.

  She put the car in gear and got underway. A car was parked at an odd angle at the end of the street, like a pizza driver had jumped out while it was still running. That made her think of food and how hungry she’d become.

  Dump kids. See Mom and Dad. Chow down.

  A few turns later, she was on one of the main thoroughfares of Bonne Terre. Tabby saw five or six blocks in each direction. No cars were in motion, but there were several giant plumes of black smoke in the middle of town.

  “How did we miss that walking in?” she wondered.

  “Is that the mine?” Donovan asked sheepishly. “I don’t want to go back.”

  “I have to see,” she replied.

  Tabby drove like a possessed fiend as she went down street after street to get as close to the mine as she could. Whole blocks were ablaze, trees and all. She attempted to go down a side street and get to the mine parking lot from the west, but the fire raged in some of the taller buildings in the middle of town.

  When she tried to come in from the north, none of the streets took her where she needed to go. The fire was also spreading in that direction, it seemed, because it was several blocks beyond the mine.

  She got closest hitting it from the east, but the news was almost as bad.

  “No, please no.” Tabby felt the stir of confused emotions bubbling to the surface again. This time, it was mostly fear, instead of anxiety.

  “What the hell happened here?” Donovan complained from the front seat. “Where’s our bus? You promised us we’d get back to our bus.”

  The entrance to the mine was a small building in the middle of town. If you didn’t know what was below, you’d never know it was the entrance to a deep pit. It made it surprising and exciting for tourists and SCUBA divers alike.

  However, all that was gone. The building. The neighborhood. Even the kids’ bus.

  A freight train of fuel cars were piled together where the mine shack once stood. Many of the brick two-story buildings surrounding the mine were now flattened, as if a massive bomb had gone off.

  “A train-wreck?” Peter said with disappointment. “Are our friends dead, Tabby?”

  “I don’t know, Peter. I really don’t.” She felt ill. After all she’d done to keep the three kids alive…

  “Wait just a second,” she said with worry apparent in her voice. “Where are all the people?”

  No firefighters were on scene.

  No police cordon was set up.

  Not one person was standing around watching the fire.

  Some T-shirts blew across the roadway, but no other human presence was visible. In a small town with nothing more exciting than a Hardee’s restaurant, the fire should have been swarmed with locals checking it out.

  “Kids—” Her voice caught in her throat. The scope of the disaster finally became clear. “We have to get out of here, right now. That gas we smelled down there must have been poisonous and is up here too. Everyone has been evacuated.”

  “Drive!” Peter shouted.

  CHAPTER 24

  Newport News, VA

  “Are you with us, miss?”

  Captain Van Nuys wasn’t a large man, but he was taller than Kyla, and the way he carried himself seemed to add a couple of inches. He stood up straight, with determination in his gaze. Despite being out of the battle for so long, he’d gotten the remains of his crew to their stations, and now he wanted her, a weakling civilian, to be a part of the danger.

  The heavy cutting saw was in her grip, but Kyla had failed to move.

  The captain put his hand on Kyla’s shoulder. “I know what you’re feeling right now. You see all the moving parts of this gigantic boat and you’re afraid to be a part of it. Blood and bullets are being served on the upper decks. We’ve lost a thousand souls in a heartbeat.”

  He paused for a moment as if thinking of the tragedy.

  “Maybe it’s good we weren’t at full strength yet. Anyway, I don’t have time to train you on anything new, but I do have something that needs to be done. It’s somewhere safe, in the back. Out of the way.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly.

  “No one on shore is going to cast off the mooring lines, so we have to cut them ourselves. We can’t just unwind them and throw them over the side, because they’re too long and they’ll get tangled in the props. They must be cut so they are too short to slip under the hull, got it?”

  “I think so,” she replied.

  “I need you to take this saw and sever the two ropes on the fantail. The back of my carrier. You do that, and we’ll sail right out of port.” He chuckled. “Hopefully, it’s that easy.”

  Kyla’s heart was in her throat. “But I was hired for program—”

  “I don’t care about that shit. You are a pair of hands. A mind. Those are the assets I need right now. You are no more or less valuable than anyone else on this ship, except maybe for me.” He tapped his temple, implying it was his brain that was important to the good guys and the bad.

  “Which is why,” the captain continued, “your job matters. I’m asking you to help me get this ship to sea. My skilled sailors are all doing other things. I need someone to cut those rear ropes or we can’t leave the dock. Right now, the sailor best suited for the job is you.”

  She knew there was no saying no.

  “I’m on it, sir.”

  “Good luck!” Van Nuys read her perfectly. Once she was committed to the task in her own mind, he took off running for the stairwell.

  Kyla jogged down the service corridor but realized after a short time it was hard to run and carry the heavy equipment at the same time.

  “I should have worked out once in a while.” She was a natural at programming. Found she was good at it in the seventh grade and hadn’t stopped since. Once she graduated from high school, she got a work-study college scholarship from Southern Cross Contracting. However, while she excelled at the mental gymnastics, she hadn’t exerted herself at all during the same time frame. Her body still had the strength of that
awkward seventh grader.

  After five minutes of trudging through the empty hallways, she finally made it to the back of the ship. The Newport News shipyard came into view through a porthole on a steel door. A large garage door was off to her side, with what looked like a parted-out jet engine parked there on a dolly.

  She drew in a steadying breath, noting how her chest seemed too small for how hard her heart pounded inside.

  “Steady, dudette,” she thought of Meechum’s and Carthager’s term for her. “This can’t be any worse than pulling that sailor to safety.”

  The door opened easily. She was greeted by the “crump” sounds of explosions and the chatter of machine guns; the battle up top was fierce. The usual mixture of fish-rot and fresh, salty air assaulted her nostrils after being deep in the stuffy ship. A hot wind blew in her face.

  She stepped out onto the small, open deck like a buyer inspecting a new home’s patio. It was about fifty feet long and twenty feet wide. A dull-gray railing protected the edge. It was a bit overwhelming to be there.

  “Ignore all that,” she whispered. “Just do this one thing and you’ll be safe.”

  A white cylinder perched on an extension of the deck to her left. It was upright, about ten feet tall, and shaped a lot like a hot water heater with a round dome on top. If she remembered her information from the tour guide who showed her around that first day, it was a type of weapon.

  “What are you doing here?” a man asked.

  Kyla almost lost her grip on the saw.

  “Going to do some home remodeling?” the familiar voice added.

  “Ben?” she replied.

  The older man sat up against the wall about ten feet to the left of the hatch. His hands were bloody, and his face was pale.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Kyla walked over, but almost lost her footing when the entire ship shifted in the water.

  “Fuck!” she cried out.

  “The ship is trying to leave dock,” Ben deadpanned.

  “Yeah, that’s why I’m here. I have to cut the ropes.”

  “Don’t,” the other programmer said in a gravelly voice. “Something wasn’t right about those Marines. I’m assuming they’re still on the ship?”