“Get off the road and find shelter, understand. How long do we wait?”
“We will soon come after you. Over and out.”
“Stop, wait...”
Surviving a plane crash, the wounded Ark continued to move northwards, along with thousands of other refugees. The bus roof had been struck by landing gear, and there was no longer a windshield just glass on the floor, but it wasn’t important now. The main thing was that the Ark could move forward and its passengers were alive and well, barring a few light bruises and cuts.
Miss Gloria tried to avoid the main roads; she had seen what was happening on the highway. Even if there were no more roadblocks, the traffic was very slow because of many accidents and jams.
No, she would not repeat mistakes of the inexperienced drivers who didn’t know the detours and were now all crammed together on the main road. She was able to find a path out of this trap through the suburbs, her driving experience and excellent knowledge of the city telling her the right way.
She drove through the burning streets, near the shooting, but in the end she brought them out of LA. On the left side was the highway, banded by the big roadblock, in the sky were circling helicopters, and she was already thinking to go there to get the children under military protection. But then the roar came.
Miss Gloria looked frightened, thinking that another Boeing was going to ram her bus, but there were no more kamikaze planes, and the roar didn’t stop. What was this, a storm?
“Miss Gloria, look on the highway!”
She saw a shell explosion in the traffic jam, throwing cars right and left, and smoke rose over the destroyed outpost. She saw, and pressed the gas, pushing Ark forward. Shooting continued on the highway, and once a military helicopter flew above the bus and she curled into her chair, knowing that it would not save her from the shells, but the pilot didn’t shoot, and Ark went forth, gradually leaving behind the raging highway battle. And then the phone rang.
She remembered many Ark passengers in person, has known them quite a long time. Many are bused to the school several times a week. But she was seeing this boy in the luxury suit for the first time, although he had the standard pass to an expensive private school, that's why she took him on board. Perhaps he was with friends that night, or something else happened and the personal car didn’t come for him, and he was with her usual passengers, and she had to take him to school. It didn’t happen due to force majeure, due to which they are now going to the north in the wrecked bus. And now this stranger in a luxury suit got a phone call.
Everyone looked at him - no other phone or tablet was working, and even the radio had died, but it worked, and someone was calling him. The boy took the phone and said something, and then went to Miss Gloria.
“They want to talk to the driver.”
“Who are they?” she said angrily, and without waiting for an answer, grabbed the phone.
It was a strange phone - small and heavy, a bright red and yellow box with a small number of buttons. Anti-shock, she thought.
“Yeah, I’m listening, who speaks?”
“Rescuers, miss. Where are you?”
Finally, someone had come up with the idea to find out where the numerous school buses were, to pull the children out of the fire. Finally, the authorities were beginning to evacuate, finally someone important had thought about how to save the Ark passengers. Miss Gloria didn’t understand why the rescuers had contacted her through one of the passengers, but now it didn’t matter, what mattered was that they’d finally sent a helicopter. Now they just had to wait.
She slid onto the bypass road leading to the orange plantations, drove a quarter mile, and then turned left and stopped Ark behind a small hill, where they were not visible from the highway. Here she cut the engine
“Miss Gloria, can I get off? I need the toilet.”
“Well, just don’t go far away, the helicopter comes soon, and we will be taken away from here.”
“Where do we go?”
“I don’t know, probably to a military base.”
“And Mom and Dad, they’re being taken too?”
“I think they have already been taken.”
They waited forty minutes behind the low hill. And then she heard the sound of blades and the phone rang again.
“We are approaching, are you all right?”
“Yeah, just get us out of here.”
“We will, don’t turn off the phone.”
She led the children from the bus and put them in a column.
“So, now a helicopter is arriving and will take us. Don’t run; don’t cry; be quiet cargo on board, just like you are in the Ark. Got that?”
The huge helicopter, without weapons and unmarked, not in camouflage and painted blue and white paint, was something she had never seen before. To hell with camouflage; more importantly, it was big and would fit them all.
“Quietly go to them.”
Once the MI8 chassis touched the sand, from the open hatch down the small staircase came two men and a woman, all in uniform, with guns. She saw them, and also saw a few people in the cabin, sitting at the big round portholes.
“I'm so glad to see you; you have no idea what we went through this morning and...”
“Good. Is Bill Riley here? Is he all right?”
“That’s the boy with the phone? Yes, he is alive, all of them are alive, just a few cuts...”
“Ok, Bill, come here!” commanded a woman, and the boy came out of the column and ran to her, holding out his pass.
“It matches, this is he. Come on, Bill, quickly into the helicopter, we're leaving.”
“What?”
The boy with the phone had disappeared in the helicopter, and the guards turned and briskly went to the MI8. The pilot added speed to the blades, ready for takeoff.
“Wait a minute, what about us?” Miss Gloria caught up with the woman in uniform.
“We can take only one, no more places, you have to act independently. Get the children back into the bus and drive to the north.”
“I can see that there are a lot of places, the helicopter is big, and we will not take up much space and…”
“I said - go to the bus!”
Miss Gloria tried to grab her hand but stopped as a long black submachine gun rested against her chest.
“Don’t make me use force. We can’t take you all.”
“But you could take this one, could find him and take him with you? How much were you paid by his parents, how much is a ticket for this helicopter?!”
Miss Gloria understood. Understood why this boy in an expensive suit, who happened to be on board her bus, carrying an emergency phone that worked even when all communication was down. Understood why they used a civilian helicopter. She realized that this rescue operation was actually one big and very profitable business. And she only helped them, facilitated the work, hiding Ark and waiting for them for almost an hour, instead of racing farther north. Silly girl.
The children ran to the helicopter, but she stopped them with her powerful voice. Those bastards might open fire if someone tried to stop them leaving.
“Take at least three of them, the youngest, they will fly on the floor!”
“Go north, miss, that is where the military defense is organized. You have to go as far as possible from LA. Here, take this.”
A woman with a gun slung her a small black radio.
“This is an army radio, it will work, and you will be able to call for help and know what is happening. Good luck.”
“Drop dead, bastards!”
The woman didn’t answer, she jumped inside, slammed the door and the helicopter with the world’s most expensive tickets went to take off, showering them with hot sand.
The children ran after it for some time, shouting and waving, but Miss Gloria called them back to the bus. They still had gas; the engine started despite all damage, and it was necessary to go further. No more help, they must seek salvation alone.
59. Chief
&n
bsp; A quarter fell into the slot by jukebox, and a song began by Dina Durbin.
“This old shit again, Chief? Every day? Did you fuck a girl for the first time to this song? What year was it?”
“You know what your problem is, Joe,” said Chief, melancholy, wiping the bar. “You are not accustomed to good music. You should get to know it from childhood, so that people grow up surrounded by the best, this is extremely important. Not everyone can afford to give children a good education, but they can all provide the necessary cultural background for development. Good books, music, movies - they must become a young man’s best friends. My mother made every attempt to make me a cultured man, and now, years later, I am immensely grateful to her. Culture and art should be passed on, and I have now decided that I am going to raise your cultural level. Good music to begin with, then movies, and then books. Like Professor Higgins, I'll make you a civilized man, no matter how difficult it might be. Did you see "My Fair Lady"?”
“Was that porn?”
“No matter how difficult it will be.”
Chief laughed good-naturedly and lovingly looked at the shimmering jukebox lights. This machine was his pride and joy, a real Wurlitzer 1015, in perfect condition. Chief had repeatedly been offered big money to sell it, but he refused. The stylish old jukebox dramatically stood out among all the new surroundings, which were practical and impersonal. The jukebox had its own face, its own individuality. And this individuality turns the ordinary army canteen into a homelike place that was inviting, especially during heavy rain.
“I don’t remember such rain for a long time!”
Right on schedule, the duty shift came into the dining room. They had an hour before their duty started.
“Chief, turn the TV louder, we need to learn what is going on in Los Angeles.”
“They won’t say anything new, it’s all the same thing – the introduction of a quarantine zone and martial law.”
Roast beef with mashed potatoes was the Chief’s special, very tasty. A couple of off-duty junior officers came in and Amber began to mop the floor.
“They say that orders have already arrived. Are we getting involved?”
“Nonsense, look where Los Angeles is and where we are. Do you think they can’t deal with it without our reserves? Our arsenal is for another war.”
Another news report ended without saying anything new. The roast beef was almost finished. Chief left his post, as usual taking a quarter out of his pocket. As the door is quietly, Amber went to the steel sink to wash the dirty dishes.
“My favorite.”
The quarter is lost in the jukebox depths. Ink Spots’ If I Didn’t Care.
“Don’t you have anything more fun?”
“Not this time.”
Air pistols appear in the hands of Chief, Amber and Joe, surrounding the officers from all sides. There are barely audible shots.
60. Chief 2
A year. That's how much time it took – a year, and another four days. A year and another four days, all for the sake of a few hours.
A year and four days ago was his first day here - he became chef in this little canteen on the small military base. The US Army had much more attractive places for civil servants – here he had a lot of work, didn’t forge a career, the money was not the greatest, and the selection for this place was strict, but he had to get a job here. And he got it.
Of course, he had help; otherwise he would never have passed the selection. A fraudster from Las Vegas helped him, providing expensive and carefully made false documents. Civil servant helped: a few keystrokes recovered his personal business. And the officer helped, who took his false documents. Without their help, Chief couldn’t do anything.
The cover group worked well. The fraudster was stabbed in the parking lot behind the supermarket where he allegedly was supposed to meet a drug dealer, pimp or some other crime business colleague. The civil servant became the victim of a fire, which occurred due to old wiring. Police found both versions convincing, and the autopsy showed nothing unusual. These two were not vampires and never knew for who they worked.
With the officer it was a lot harder. He would not betray his position, bribing him was impossible, so it was decided to do it by radical methods. A slight prick made him a vampire, and then he helped his boss with all possible desire, gaining a new meaning of life in his search for blood. It was a pity to lose such a valuable assistant, but there was no other choice - the newly-born vampire demanded too much blood, depleted the Chief’s reserves, and then the officer began to hunt neighbors in the military town.
They had to work in the old style, and create a car accident with him in a broad river – the lack of autopsy was due to lack of body. The corpse was searched for thoroughly, and all who had spent time with him were under suspicion, Chief too. But the suspicions came to no avail, and he remained in his place. In the end he was just a cook, having no access to anything secret and dangerous. Now he had to wait and prepare.
Chief prepared carefully. He worked hard, making his army canteen the best in the state, and possibly in the whole country. In the canteen was perfect order and cleanliness. The food was perfectly cooked, earning the approval of the military who had not received such delicious lunches before. Often he helped the officers in family celebrations, arranging fine dinners and taking not much money for it. He was a friend to all.
To cook well it was necessary to buy the best products and Chief did it personally, conducting business with several well-proven suppliers. One of them was his messenger, bringing with the best frozen meat the best frozen human blood as well. A courier was his only contact with the main forces. The Internet and mobile communication were virtually nil – Chief knew that the Pentagon would be able to intercept them.
Having spent six months alone, Chief got his first permanent ally. Her name was Amber, and, before meeting with Chief, her life was not particularly good - from an early age she worked as a cheap whore on the highway, spending her earned pennies on drugs and suffering from a variety of sexually transmitted diseases. No one would look for her if she disappeared forever, but Chief wasn’t a serial killer – he was just searching for a reliable assistant, and in Amber found this assistant.
He attacked her in a cheap motel room, giving her a new life and a thirst for blood. Drugs had become unnecessary for Amber, the diseases passing in less than a day. The girl changed dramatically in just a few months: from a worthless, almost washed-up human being she had grown into something strong, brave, intelligent and very dangerous.
Amber was now working together with Chief, first as a cleaner and dishwasher, and then, having learned from the boss, as an assistant cook. There were guys from the base she really liked, and if they paid her attention, she wasn’t averse to flirting.
Day after day, month after month - gradually Chief and his faithful assistant approached the final operation. As an excellent worker and a good conversationalist, always willing to help, Chief learned almost everything about this military base. He learned the life details of officers and their families, carefully studying their personality and making accurate psychological profiles with which he defined who of them should be brought to their side, and who to kill. Amber also listened carefully and perfectly memorized. Officers often longed to talk, so that she learned many interesting things about the base and the people on it. The personnel database, storage scheme, security and communications services, and transportation - they have learned it all. Now it was just a waiting game.
61. Chief 3
“For sale - Volkswagen Beetle 1934 release, requires repair, spare parts are available.”
Chief read this short advertising message, and then closed the message board. He’d got what he wanted. It was not written for a vintage car lover, it is for him personally, since he knew that in 1934 the Beetle had not yet been released. Requires repair meant that it was exactly twelve hours before the operation. Some parts are available revealed to him that everything had already been delivered, they
would need no more supplies.
“Amber, wake up. There is ten minutes to pack and go to Joe.”
Joe was his second success here, no less important than Amber. It had taken a while, but the effort was worth it - a specialist in signaling and communication needed to be an ally. Amber found the key to Joe. She learned that he was diagnosed with cancer and didn’t have much time left. A needle prick from an air gun forever finished the tumor and metastasis, so that Chief got not only an experienced specialist, but also a devoted assistant, grateful for the rescue. They had no problem with him: unlike the senior officer, the technician patiently restrained his Hunger, content with tiny real blood injections, and did his job, true to his new oath.
They warned Joe, and then were engaged in acquiring transportation, and delivering everything required to it in several trips. The car was ready - a two-ton truck, not new, but in perfect condition, completely ready for a long journey. They only had one truck, it would be suspicious to have two, so they needed to find additional transport, but Chief was confident that it could be obtained in the town or on the base itself.
The Volkswagen Beetle was sold right on schedule - opening the canteen on a rainy morning, Chief followed the events on television, proudly noting how the panicked messages about LA had gradually increased.
Declared a yellow alert. On arsenal canceled severance and increased security mode, but they don’t wait the war here. It is too far away to the City of Angels, and the arsenal on this base is not effective for such a conflict. So it remained to wait until the changing of the guard, and he listened as officers and soldiers made the most improbable assumptions about what was happening.
If I Didn’t Care
The hissing air pistols are drowned out by Ink Spots’ soft voices. Joe, Amber and Chief shoot perfectly. The duty officers, who took a central table, were an easy target. Only one of them made a move to his holster, but Chief hit him with a small but very powerful stun gun. Done.
Vampire's Day (Book 1): Epicenter Page 13
