by JK Franks
Todd eyed the carnage again. “Not sure how much there will be left to save.”
Garret nodded as Bobby joined Todd at the window. “We have a massive cleanup to perform. If we don’t do something with those bodies, this place will be overrun with disease and vermin.”
The Lieutenant looked on. “There must be thousands of them. I still can’t believe they essentially killed themselves to follow that fool. Your preacher had them pegged, that man’s words killed them, not our bullets. I guess they did get the message. Todd, if you can get my dad on the line, I feel sure we can help. The Navy is trained for situations like this. They could bring the Bataan just offshore, and their medical and rescue teams will have this area cleansed within a few days.”
“Thanks, I’ll get DeVonte to get him on the radio once the antenna is reattached. Then I’ll let you talk to him. I believe it would be best if he and I didn’t speak for now.”
The late afternoon sun was beginning to come out from the cloud cover, casting everything into a surreal golden glow. The amount of damage done by the storm and the battle was now fully visible. Todd called for his men to unseal the ship. “Scoots, we have to get the aft mooring lines secured to the dock. See if you can get the heavy-duty forklift down here to do that once the water level drops. We also need to lower one of the drawbridges. If you have the gears, send them up there with a generator. These locals are going to be anxious to get back and check on their farms. Get someone to help DeVonte replace that radio antennae as well.”
The golden light that streamed through the bridge windows took Todd back to the previous summer. It had seemed like just a normal summer’s day. It had changed everything. Bobby placed a hand on Todd’s shoulder. Both men still mourned the wives they had lost. Garret left silently, passing Kaylie and DeVonte leading Jacob who had finally come out of hiding. None of the group spoke, but all of them gathered on the bridge and embraced silently.
This was their family now. They would start again. That is what surviving meant: you handled the challenges, you faced the setbacks, you came up with solutions and you sometimes, just sometimes, got to move forward.
Chapter One Hundred Six
Gulf of Mexico - West of Tampa, FL
Their time aboard the USS Pile-o-Junk was not destined to go smoothly. Yet one more boat began to sink, pulling much of the floating dock and shed with it. The men reacted in time to cut it free, but their island of safety was shrinking alarmingly fast.
“At least we still have the trusty raft,“ Scott said.
They both looked at the grimy, near-flat inflatable with its bloodstains and remnants of dried turtle on the canopy. Skybox looked pale. “I think I would really rather just go ahead and drown.”
When he had turned the radio back on, his people were there, ready to talk. They spoke mostly in a form of code Scott couldn’t quite pin down. Since they were broadcasting on open channels, it made sense. Some of the statements were very recognizable. Skybox raised his voice a time or two, but by the end of the short transmission he was nodding and looked at Scott with a small smile.
“Well, that was interesting.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s interesting, Skybox? Did your people say they don’t exist so we should just rescue ourselves?”
“In a way, yeah. They want me to turn myself over to the Navy. Apparently, your friend and that lab are the best chance of cracking the Chimera virus. They are royally pissed at losing the asset to the Navy, but more interested in the cure being found. Their only condition for giving me up is that the Navy agree to share any potential cure.”
Scott scowled but nodded. “I guess that makes sense. Just unexpected. Prae—the Guard doesn’t seem like the type to give up anything easily. It makes me wonder again if the two groups could be brought closer . . . to work together. So how long are they going to make us sit out here and cook in our own juices, and who is coming to get us?”
“Not long, friend, not long. P-Guard will hire a civilian craft to come get us and transport to the nearest Naval vessel. Probably just some fisherman they can buy off.”
It was nearly twenty-four hours later before the very thin and weary pair stepped back aboard the USS Bataan. He and Skybox had been deposited onto a derelict ship after Scott radioed the Navy from the fishing boat that picked them off the floating junk pile. It had taken a while for the message to reach Command, but to his credit, Garret had moved heaven and hell to get the men picked up and brought back to the ship as quickly as possible.
Scott and Skybox shook hands and, to everyone’s amazement, hugged before they were each led away to separate medical bays for full checkups. They had been at sea for seven days. Despite the ordeal, the medics found that Scott was in remarkably good shape. He was not overly dehydrated. He had some sores that had become infected, severe sunburn, and a persistent, mild headache, but nothing else. He had just been given the good news when Gia came rushing in.
“Scott! I just got word. I can’t believe it! I’m so glad you’re alive.” She hugged him, holding on with a tenacious grip.
“Hey, Gia,” he returned her hug as firmly as his weakened state allowed, “I didn’t mean to rush off like that, just surprised to see you and all.”
She laughed. “You idiot. What made you think you could take on a Special Forces soldier?”
Scott gave a slight grin and shook his head. “No one bothered to tell me he was the freakin’ Terminator.” He paused to take in his friend then continued. “I knew he was important to you.”
She grabbed his hand, which had begun to tremble. “Scott, you are important to me.”
He looked at her and trembled more. He had something that had to be said now. Ironic that he would be scared of this after all he had been through. “Gia, I . . . I love you.” She looked up in surprise and he saw universes in those gorgeous eyes. His pulse raced and his mouth was dry. “Well, I used to . . . I mean, I always have. I don’t know. I’m so sorry about your family—really, really, sorry. I just—I just made a promise to myself out there, that if I survived, I’d make sure I lived with no more regrets.
Gia smiled, and her eyes began to water.
“I’m not saying I want anything from you, I know—”
She stopped him with a kiss, then smiled as she put her arms around him. “Hush. Just stop talking.” She kissed him again, deeper, and with tenderness. It was very close to perfect in Scott’s admittedly limited experience. He hadn’t been kissed in a long time. His lips were chapped, his skin burned everywhere she touched, and his head felt like it would explode. None of that mattered in the least. It may have been the happiest moment of his life. No. It definitely was.
Gia pulled back and looked at him in a way he remembered very well. In his mind, he had called it the Friendship Look. His heart began to sink. She must just have been glad to see him; felt a sudden rush of emotion that had now passed. Her mouth gave a tiny tick of a smile, her eyes sparkled and she took his hand.
“I always knew.”
His head was spinning again. He looked puzzled, then hurt.
She shook her head, “Scott, I want to explain some of my actions back then to you so that maybe you can understand why I made the choices I did. I was selfish and even cruel to you. I just had my life all planned out. And then I met you.
Scott, I’ve been mourning the loss of my family, the loss of my world, for the past six months. What you don’t know is that for years I mourned losing you, losing my best friend, and you were so much more. Then I saw you—for just a moment, coming to save me, no less!—and then you were gone again. All those feelings came rushing back at me. The timing is awful, who knows what’s going on, but I really am so very happy you are alive and that you’re back.”
He pulled her close into an embrace they both seemed to need so badly. They stayed like that for several minutes. She pulled away from him and smiled with tears in her eyes again. “This is one very crazy world, my friend. Do you think we might have a chance? A second chance?”
“Well, G, an hour ago, you thought I was dead, and now here we are. I would say we have a chance. This seems to be my week for miracles.”
Chapter One Hundred Seven
USS Bataan, Gulf of Mexico
Commander Garret looked anxious as he spoke. “We haven’t heard from Todd since the hurricane passed through. Scott, we had a situation develop there. The group, the Messengers, made a move on your town.”
“Fuck,” Scott felt a heavy weight descend on his good mood. “Sorry, sir, but fuck. Any word from them since?”
“Last we heard they were requesting help. The group was massing, estimates were in the thousands, and they were preparing for a fight. We let them know we would stage missions to engage the group, but then the storm made landfall near there, and we weren’t able to fly any of the planned sorties.” Garret rubbed his eyes. Scott thought he saw the man tearing up.
“We’re yet to hear from the AG, so we’re taking the Bataan in close. We had a combat team on your ship. If we find survivors, we can offer whatever assistance is required. Something else you should know is that Todd was not pleased with me when he left. He called me out on my failures, not the least of which was not finding you. On that, he was very obviously right. I . . . I apologize. I know that is a feeble gesture considering everything, but we—I—am balancing very limited resources and a mission that keeps growing more uncontrollable . . . I find myself having to make the life-and-death calls far too often. You guys have been a good ally, and I do feel—no, I know—that I let you down, let him down. I made several bad calls.”
Scott listened to Garret’s words while hoping against all hope to find his loved ones safe and sound. The commander’s words sounded muddled and distant in his distracted mind, but he got the sincerity. “Thank you, Commander. I know you did the best you could. If I could go over with the first team, I would appreciate it.”
“Of course, of course. The researcher, the boy, DJ, has requested the same. I know he was one of the main reasons you came on this mission. I hope you both find your niece alive and well. I almost forgot to mention it, but Todd did say that your brother had been found and brought to the ship as well. I’m not sure that was a good thing or not, but best of luck with all of your family.”
“Thank you, sir.” Garret stood up to say his goodbyes and dismiss Scott from the room, but Scott stayed seated.
The commander seemed somewhat taken aback but covered it well. The man in front of him had been through quite an ordeal and now faced the possibility of even greater pain upon returning home. “Is there something else on your mind, Mr. Montgomery?”
Scott sighed. “Yes, there is something else I need to discuss. I’m not sure either of us are the right ones to bring this up, but someone needs to.”
“Go on . . . I’m intrigued.”
“Commander, you—and by you, I mean the Navy, and the Praetor group—you have to end this war.”
“Well, there’s nothing I would like more, son, but—”
Scott cut him off. “Please let me finish. I had a lot of time out there with that man from Praetor. The commander who calls himself Skybox. We were not friends going into that ocean, far from it. The man tried to kill me. Out there, though, we realized we needed each other to survive. I discovered that he is an honorable man, and in learning more about his group, the P-Guard, I realized that their goals and the Navy’s are not so far apart. You have very different approaches, yes, but you’re not incompatible. You don’t have to work together, but you must stop wasting time and resources by trying to stop them. They are the ones that turned Skybox and me back over to you. Do you know why?”
Garret shook his head.
“Because now that you have Gia—Dr. Colton—and her team, they think you have the best chance of finding a cure for the Chimera virus. For her to do that she needed Skybox. Sir, I mean no disrespect, but if you continue with this pointless mission against them, you will fail. These people, the P-Guard, feel they are right every bit as much as you do. You, them…all are patriots. The difference is that they are ruthless, well-equipped and very goddamn good at what they do. Your numbers may be larger, but that will change in time. You have Skybox now. He’s the key. He can talk to his leaders, whomever they are. If you will commit to an end of hostilities, he believes he can broker the same from P-Guard Command.”
The Commander dropped into the guest chair alongside Scott. He rubbed his short gray beard and looked thoughtfully up to the framed picture of the last President of the United States. “You always surprise me, Scott. You have a survivor’s mentality . . . someway, somehow, you are always looking for a solution.”
He took a long pause again, staring at a blank spot on the wall. “We know we can’t continue fighting like we have been. More ships are running out of food or fuel almost every day now. Many of our men—hell, all our men—want to get home to check on their families. This deployment shows no sign of coming to an end, but I’m not sure I can do what you ask. The atrocities that those people have committed, their lack of decency and the way they trample all over the Constitution, it leaves very little room to make peace. My commitment to you though is this: I will speak with my fellow command group, and we will open a dialog on the subject. We will allow Skybox to bring it up with his people. What happens from that point, who knows? But, I will try.”
Scott nodded and stood. “Thank you, sir. If we all can’t start working together, nothing else matters. We can’t make it that way. Not ‘we’, as a country, we…as a species.”
Chapter One Hundred Eight
Harris Springs, Mississippi
Scott rode the distance mostly in silence. His hand rested in Gia’s who was seated between he and DJ. He couldn’t keep from looking at Gia: the friend whose presence, more than anything else in this crazy new world, had kept him focused on survival since his fall into the ocean.
He looked down at the blue water below the Navy chopper. Opposite him, Skybox, too, stared out at the massive expanse of the ocean below. The man must have felt Scott’s eyes on him, as he immediately looked up directly at Scott. The two men smiled and nodded at one another, acknowledging their ordeal and the unlikely friendship that had grown from the adversity in the waters below.
DJ had been briefed that the scene at Harris Springs was likely going to be a shock. Garret had reluctantly given permission for DJ, Gia and Skybox to make the trip: a huge portion of the bioresearch team to be let out of the Navy’s grasp in one go, but when they let it be known they would not continue working without this break, the CO had relented. He was also anxious to get the assault team back from the AG. Scott discovered that Garret’s son had been assigned there. Todd had managed to get the man to put some skin in the game, literally.
The pilots gave a thumbs-up: the signal that they had made contact with the Special Forces on the ship and that the landing zone was safe. The ocean suddenly turned from blue to green and then became sand as the massive chopper began its descent. Skybox was out first and directing Gia to duck low. Scott saw a line of Navy soldiers in the same black battle gear he had worn on that fateful day. DJ exited after Gia, and Scott saw Kaylie yelling and screaming from the side of the platform. His heart soared. She’s alive!
Scott took a deep breath as the pilots shut the engine down and the rotors slowed their motion. Scott climbed from the far side door that was now open. The devastation on this side of the ship was a blow. He tried to take it in: he had never seen so many dead bodies everywhere, even in the movies. The smell of decay was noticeable already. Flocks of seagulls hopped among the debris along with vultures and other creatures feasting on the carrion.
He walked to the rear of the chopper and recovered his and Gia’s duffles. He was delaying, he knew. But he was terrified to learn whom he had lost.
Coming around the front of the massive, gray helicopter he saw familiar faces: Angel, DeVonte, Solo and Kaylie. Thank God there were survivors. Kaylie and DJ were locked in an embrace. Then he saw Todd and t
here…there was his brother.
Bobby and Todd locked eyes on Scott at the same time and both men shared a single expression of shocked amazement. Scott gave a wave of delight as he saw that both his brother and his buddy were alive and well. He took Gia’s hand and walked over to greet them. “Hey, guys, miss me?”
Epilogue
Manassas, Virginia
Over a thousand miles away, Tahir closed out the open debriefing file on the tablet.
Jesus Christ! What did they think they were doing? Surely no one could be that stupid. Then again, he remembered sadly, he had spent much of his career working for the US Government, so he was quite familiar with their unimaginable levels of stupidity. But this . . . this was on a whole new level entirely. He looked down; his palms were sweating, and he felt bile rising in his throat. He was used to fear and paranoia, they had been his near-constant allies for much of his life. From the near-misses with the law in his early teens to the more serious adversaries he had dealt with as a young hacker, Tahir had learned to trust his gut and normally discovered that those in power—people in general for that matter—were just as weak and deceitful as he feared.
“Okay, think . . . think. Fuck, man, you have to have a plan!” He was talking to himself again. Never a good sign. It was, however, part of his problem-solving ritual. I need a Red Bull. He remembered he had consumed the last of them the previous week. “Shit.”
While most people looked for a solution in a logical, analytical and linear manner, Tahir’s brain was wired differently. When he met a challenge, his cerebral systems erupted into chaos, storming over multiple pathways simultaneously. Early on, he had self-diagnosed himself as something of an autistic savant. He had become skilled at solving complex puzzles at the age of three. By six, he was routinely beating adults at games of all types. Tahir became bored very quickly and had to keep challenging himself with increasingly tougher games and tests of his abilities. When he discovered computers and, later, the Internet, his prowess really blossomed.
