“My name is Tally Wickie,” the girl said. “You can call me Wicks. My friend up there is G.”
“G?”
“For security purposes, we go by nicknames. Only I know the true name of everyone.”
“Except now I know yours, Miss Tally Wickie. And so does G.”
“He’s my second-in-command and besides, everyone in our group knows my name. However, my name will be the only name you learn, Mr. Simon Redfall.”
“G is for genius,” the teenager said in an excited voice, breaking the tension in the van. The vehicle took a sharp right-hand turn, skidding around a corner and picking up speed on the on-ramp to I-95.
“Easy there, genius. No sense in saving my life if you’re just going to kill me around the next curve. Maybe you should let an adult take the wheel until you get a learner’s permit?”
“Hey, hold on. We saved your ass, Redfall. Maybe I should just power open those doors and let you fall out the back?”
“Take it easy, G. Just get us to Pandora in one piece,” Tally scolded.
Simon wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. He wondered if he had been hit on the head during the beating, after all. “Pandora?” he asked. “Like the box?”
“It’s my compound,” Tally replied in a more solemn voice than before.
“A compound? Seriously?”
“Yes, it’s a wondrous place, filled with like-minded individuals.”
“You mean like-minded kids—”
“Sure, if you feel the need to label us.”
“Where is it?”
“Pennsylvania. Western part of Lancaster County.”
“Isn’t that Amish country?”
“It is.”
“How’d you decide on that name?”
“It was the name of my grandma’s favorite book. An ancient text she read to me every night before bedtime.”
He smirked. “Don’t think I ever read that one.”
G spoke up, interrupting the conversation. “How could you? Not when only three copies are known to exist in the world today. It takes someone with serious cash to afford a read like that, and I’m guessing that’s not you.”
Simon found G’s know-it-all tone a little off-putting. Wait, check that, he found it downright insulting since he’d been extremely wealthy before his wife went off the rails and took everything away from him: his savings, his successful company, and his reputation. All that was left now was a scraggly street bum with sore ribs.
Tally continued, shooting a disapproving look at G. “The book is sort of a roadmap to the end of the world and what to do in preparation. You know, a back-to-the basics, prepper’s handbook type thing, even though it was written over a hundred years ago. Let’s face it, living a subsistence life and living off the land never really changes.”
Simon wanted to laugh, but didn’t. He sat quietly and listened.
“Grandma was a former biochemist and Grandpa was former military. Together they were an amazing couple and true patriots. But as time went on, they began to fear the end of days was coming—you know, the great apocalypse. One thing led to another and they decided to use the money from Grandma’s patents to create a self-sustained compound in the country. Our whole family lived there and trained.”
“Lived?” he asked her, noticing the past tense word.
“My parents died when I was really young, leaving my grandparents to raise me and my brother.”
“So, exactly how old are you?” Simon asked the girl, wondering what level of pubescent ideology was calling the shots.
“Almost twenty-three.”
Simon exhaled, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something endearing about this young lady. It wasn’t just her confidence or connection to the moment, it was something else. He just wasn’t sure yet what that something was.
“Mr. Redfall,” Tally began.
“Call me Simon, please. My old man was Mr. Redfall.”
“Okay, Simon . . . Look—like G reminded you—we just saved you from what was sure to be a major beating. Maybe even a fatal one at that. So please hear me out. You owe us that, at least.”
He nodded, keeping his lips silent.
“The way I see it . . . we need your help and you need a place to lay low and recuperate. And now, with this red rain falling, who knows what’s going to happen next. Trust me, even before this red storm, something sinister was at play and we need your help to stop it. The world needs your help. All I ask is you give me the benefit of the doubt and let me explain. If you decide you don’t want to join us—”
“Us? There’s more of you?”
“Yes. Eight in total, counting me.”
His tactical sense was hungry for more facts. “Eight? Is that with or without your grandparents?”
“Without. They died five years ago, and I took over.”
He tilted his head, letting his analytical skills chew on the information, but he kept quiet and let the girl continue.
“Everything was in place for me and my brother to continue their work. That’s when I started recruiting.”
He gave her an inquisitive stare, trying to wrap his head around the family’s history.
“Like I said before, we need your help. However, if you decide you don’t want to join us, we’ll drop you off anywhere you like, and you can go back to your life.”
“I don’t actually have much of a life, at the moment. But I think you already know that.”
“I do. Your life is that of a drifter. A hated drifter, no less. Not much of a life if you ask me. A complete waste of all that experience and skill. Wouldn’t you rather make a difference in this world, or possibly make amends for what your wife did? Isn’t that why you’ve been moving from city to city, denying yourself the basic pleasures of life while helping out at various homeless shelters? We know about the eleven Habitat for Humanity builds, and the lean-tos in the forest. Come on, Simon. Is this all there is?”
She didn’t talk like a twenty-year-old; that much was clear. Obviously, she was well-schooled and sharp, and seemed to know what she wanted.
“How do you know all this?” he asked, studying her facial response for clues.
“That’s where G comes in,” she said in a confident tone.
“Techno-voodoo,” G quipped, removing his hands from the steering wheel to crack his knuckles. He turned his head for a moment and sent a huge grin at Simon. “It’s all out there, if you know where and how to look. How being the key.”
“Eyes on the road,” Simon shot back.
“So, I ask again, Simon. Don’t you want more?” Tally asked.
He didn’t want to admit it, but Tally was right. His life was shit and he was tired of living in the dirt, creeping around like a slug. If the recent mob attack was any indication, Tessa’s death was not the end of the ordeal. There would always be those who wanted him dead and would never be satisfied with anything less. He hoped their hatred would’ve lessened once she was gone, but just because he wanted it to happen didn’t mean it would. Just wishful thinking.
The future would always mean a life on the run, living in another makeshift shelter and staying off the radar. There would be times when he’d need sanctuary, food, and possibly medical attention. He did have a few friends remaining in the intelligence community, but they were probably too busy with more important things. And certainly they wouldn’t want to stick their necks out for someone as infamous as him, at least not yet. He’d need to redeem himself and reclaim a footing in the intelligence community first.
While it was true he needed and wanted more from his life, he still felt compelled to make amends. The guilt was eating at him, even after Tessa’s death. Sleeping through the night had been a major problem the past couple of years and it seemed likely his insomnia would continue. Every night, the faces of Tessa’s victims would visit him, having taken permanent root in his synapses.
All of it was an emotional drain; he felt like he’d been swimm
ing in quicksand ever since Tessa opened fire. He thought the layers of torment would start to ease once she’d paid for her sins with her very last breath, but so far they hadn’t. In fact, it felt like his inner turmoil had gotten worse, thickening with each breath he took. He didn’t understand why.
“Simon? So what’s it gonna be? I need to know. Will you keep an open mind and hear me out?”
He cleared his throat and gave in. “Okay, I’m all ears.”
Tally’s eyes lit up. She opened her mouth to speak, but then her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it, looked at the screen, and then turned to Simon. “I gotta take this. I was supposed to check in five minutes ago, but I got a little bit distracted. Hold that thought.”
She waved her fingers above the phone screen, then held it to her ear. “Go for Wicks . . . hi Dre, sorry. We had a little change of plans on our end.” She listened for a moment before speaking again. “Yes, it’s raining here. We’re driving in it . . . I don’t know, but it’s everywhere . . . Save some samples for me . . . Please, it’ll only take a minute to do . . . Just ask Dixie for help.”
Simon lost interest in the rest of her phone conversation. He closed his eyes and waited, letting the insanity of the day fester in his mind: Tessa’s death, the beatings, two youngsters with a van full of sophisticated equipment, and a prepper compound in Amish country called Pandora.
He shook his head.
Never in his wildest dreams . . .
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zeke Olsen watched the rotating series of satellite weather maps on the monitor. He studied them closely, watching the red storms grow larger as they spread across the planet slowly. He put the tip of his finger to the screen and tapped it.
Indigo’s face reappeared, flashing his toothy white smile. Vito tipped his hat.
“How did you know this was going happen?” Zeke asked him.
“Let’s just say I have eyes and ears everywhere. I’ve told you before, money and weapons are not power. They’re fleeting and useless under most circumstances, like with what we’re seeing today. True power comes from the accumulation of knowledge and access to information. IndigoNet gives me that power on an unprecedented scale, especially now, with the runaway proliferation of smart devices in recent years. If one can sift through enough data and process it, even the future can be anticipated.”
“Do you know what’s going on?” Zeke asked his flamboyant leader.
“I do, but I doubt the world’s leaders have a clue. But none of that is your concern right now. Let me handle it.”
“I understand.”
“And Zeke?”
“Yes, boss.”
Indigo cleared his throat, hesitating before he spoke again. “There’s one more thing we need to discuss.”
“Anything you need. I’m at your service.”
“I appreciate that. I know I can always count on you. But what we need to talk about isn’t about today’s agenda, per se. It’s about the future. Yours and mine. With everything that’s about to happen, there’s always the possibility that one of us might not be here in the near future. Thanks to our inept leaders around the world, and other nefarious organizations, human civilization is about to descend into chaos.”
Zeke’s mouth ran dry when he heard those words, making it hard to answer. “What do you mean, not be here?”
“I mean, I’m not getting any younger. If something were to happen to me, I want you to take control of Indigo Tech as CEO to ensure all of my projects and plans are carried out to the letter. Legal has already drawn up the contingency paperwork. Everything has been signed and executed and is ready to take effect should such an event take place. Everything would transfer to you, including my seat on the Board of Directors. That includes every share of stock, every asset I own, and everything else I leave behind.”
Zeke was shocked, not knowing how to deal with this shift in topics. “Are you ill, sir? Is there something I should know?”
“That’s not important right now. What is important is that I’ve taken steps to insure Indigo Technologies continues to live on and change the world as I planned. I trust you, Zeke. I know that in your more than capable hands, my company will continue to thrive. Again, all of this is a contingency plan, if something unfortunate were to happen.”
“Thank you, boss. I’m not sure what to say.”
“No need to say anything. I’m more than pleased that I have someone like you to take over and run all that I’ve built in my stead. I never got around to having children or getting married, but my legacy will live on through you.”
“I appreciate the confidence, sir. Whatever you need, I’m there for you. What would you like me to do?”
“Remain where you are until these storms are finished. Then either I or my lead attorney Calder Stanton will contact you with further instructions.”
There was a low rumbling in the wall to Zeke’s right. Two sections of the carved wooden panels slid up and disappeared into the ceiling, revealing two rooms. One was a bedroom, furnished with a small bed and chest of drawers across from an entertainment center and oversized leather recliner. The other was a kitchen, equipped with a sink, a dishwasher, a refrigerator/freezer, a small multi-purpose oven, and a table built for one. Cabinets lined the back wall, stacked with dishes and stuffed to the edges with packages of pre-made food and other staples for survival. Indigo was a master strategist and a thorough planner, but all of this seemed a bit excessive, even for him.
“For how long, chief?”
“Do you have somewhere to be, Zeke?”
Zeke had no family and no friends; he’d dedicated his entire adult life to his boss’s empire. Indigo surely knew he had nowhere to be and nowhere to go. Zeke wondered if his boss was frustrated by his question, or perhaps was taking a verbal poke at him. He decided to play it straight, like he always did. He couldn’t afford to mess up his high paying gig or his planned inheritance, not over something as mundane as this.
“Of course not, boss. I’m dutifully at your service, as always.”
Indigo laughed, albeit softly. “There are enough food stores onsite there for a month; just let my handy Mark II know what you want and he’ll whip it together for you. But I hope you won’t be here anywhere close to that long.”
“As do I,” Zeke added, wondering how he was going to pass the time, other than chatting with a voiceless ButlerBot. With all that was just dumped on his plate, the minutes would seem like hours until future events unfolded. Whatever that meant.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’ll keep you out of harm’s way, and you’ll be well taken care of, as has always been the case. For now, I need you to relax and enjoy yourself. Think of it as an impromptu vacation. You’ve earned it, Number Two. Thank you for always having my back.”
Zeke relished the new title: Number Two. He’d come a long way since his days as an underpaid, underappreciated science teacher at a rural high school in Northern Arizona, trying to make ends meet by selling a little real estate on the side. Life was good right now and he would gladly take a bullet for the man who showed him how to succeed in life and in business.
When brilliant entrepreneurs like Trump, Gates, Jobs, and Musk forcibly climbed their way to the top, they usually made a slew of enemies along the way. That was normal and to be expected—for most men.
However, Indigo was different. Everyone seemed to like and respect Vito, allowing him to push deals through against any opposition. He always seemed to know exactly what buttons to push and when, and that held true at every level of business, whether he was dealing with President Cooper of the United States or some poor landscaper scratching out a living under the blistering sun of downtown Phoenix.
Vito Indigo had a real talent for unification, despite being driven by a single agenda—minting money. He could connect with people in a way that seemed to defy explanation, and then convince them to join his venture.
“Offer them something of value, something they can’t live withou
t, and do it with a smile—they’ll agree to just about anything. But first, you must do your homework and identify the key item that’ll allow you to use their own greed and desperation against them. They’ll be so focused on obtaining what they crave, they’ll never see you coming,” Vito would preach to him. “Remember to divide and conquer through compartmentalization and misdirection. The latter of the two being the most effective weapon in any strategist’s arsenal. It’s how magicians fleece the audience of their hard-earned money.”
Zeke was diligent to pay close attention to each word that came out of his boss’ mouth, soaking in every nuance of negotiating and consensus building, hoping to someday emulate the tycoon. And it appeared that someday might just be right around the corner.
Indigo tilted his head toward the bedroom. “The entertainment center is loaded with all the shows and movies you’ll ever need. I’ve picked out some of my favorites for you; I hope you don’t mind. You’ll find the universal remote in the top drawer on the right.”
“Wow. Totally unexpected, but thank you.”
Indigo flashed a toothy smile, taking over the screen with white. “And Zeke, you might want to check the refrigerator first.”
Before Zeke could respond, Indigo’s image disappeared and was replaced by the map showing the spread of storms. He studied their progress, noticing they’d grown larger in the short period he’d been talking to his boss. If they kept expanding at this rate, they’d cover—he stopped his train of thought.
Indigo had told him he didn’t have anything to worry about, so he turned his mind to other things, as was expected of him.
Never question the man cutting the paychecks. Or the man who’s about to leave you his entire empire.
He clicked the monitor off, then pushed the roller chair back and went to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator to see what Vito had been talking about. A stash of Coors Light filled the bottom shelf, while two ceramic dishes covered in foil waited for him up top. Each aluminum wrap had been emblazoned with the logo from his favorite restaurant—Maxim’s of Paris.
Redfall: Fight for Survival (American Prepper Series Book 1) Page 5
