Nightwalker 5

by Frank Roderus

  When he reached the steps, he headed up.

  He climbed to the second story, finding the communications room behind the first door. It was better for him that all the doors had big windows. He figured the building might have been a school before FEDCOM took it over.

  An older woman sat behind a desk, back to the door, reading a book. She wore headphones connected to an old-time switchboard panel.

  Modern conveniences reinvented.

  His heart continued to pound as he ducked to pass the door. Even with her back to it, she might sense the shadow passing. Wolfe did not want to take any chances. If he had to fight, any plan he had would go out the window. They needed to never suspect that he had been there. He forged ahead. The final rooms on that floor had been converted into the officers’ quarters, six of them behind four doors. Handwritten nameplates had been taped to the doors to signify who was inside. Two to each room except the last one, which was labeled as guest quarters. Someone was shuffling around inside that room.

  Wolfe took the rifle off his shoulder and held it ready.

  The other three rooms were as silent as a graveyard. He peeked through the gap in the old newspapers that had been secured over the window. His pounding heart slowed with the chill that crept over him. A man was sitting on the couch. He yawned and scratched the stubble on his face before lying down and rolling his back toward the door.

  An Alston brother not fifteen feet from him.

  Two others were in the bunk bed against the far wall. Wolfe squinted, trying to figure out if it was the other Alston who slept in the bed. He could not be sure. And the third figure. Was that the major? He had forgotten the man’s name. All three of them were scum, and he hated them equally.

  Wolfe’s mouth twisted into the snarl of his namesake. He could break through that door with no effort at all. He could kill them right there, the Alstons and their FEDCOM partner in crime. But that would not be the end of it. There were other soldiers. How could he finish them all?

  The snarl turned into an ugly smile. Wolfe didn’t like his dark thoughts, but he had them all the same. He saw an ending where he was standing over their dead bodies and telling them, “I should have killed you all back then.” That was when he had still believed his fellow men had honor. The Alstons had taught him differently. And the major.

  Had they followed Wolfe all the way down here? How was that possible?

  Wolfe didn’t believe in coincidences. He checked the corridor and backed away from the door, then turned toward the end of the hallway. The small light in the communication room went out with the power. It was two in the morning.

  Chapter Eleven

  Wolfe started to run, then stopped and crouched below the window of the communications door. He stood up once he was past the door and quickly covered the remaining distance to the stairs. When the door opened, the older woman looked back and forth as if she thought she saw something. She went back inside to check her equipment.

  Wolfe had frozen on the stairs when he heard the door open. When it shut again without footfalls coming toward him, he took the steps three at a time, hitting the bottom landing and flexing his knees when he touched down to absorb the shock and keep the sound to a gentle tap. He was off again instantly, running fast for the far door. He slid to a stop, one boot leaving a black skid mark. A real military would have someone buff that out first thing in the morning. This ragtag mob? He doubted they would even notice.

  He went sideways out the door to keep it from opening too wide, but it was dark outside, the pitch-black kind of dark that happens when the moon is behind heavy clouds. Wolfe said a quick thank you and ducked to look under the trucks for the feet of sentries. Once he was sure they were clear, he jogged on his toes, making no sound as he ran for the fence. Up and over he went. Wolfe hit the ground on the other side and froze, expecting the lights to come back on, but they did not.

  Wolfe ran for the ditch and hopped over the edge to land next to Jennifer. The dog yipped, and Jennifer jumped.

  “Shhh,” Wolfe whispered. “It’s only me. Let’s go.”

  He took the young girl by the hand and they loped down the ditch, heading away from the compound. A heavy engine started up, a truck. The headlights turned on, pointing toward the main gate. A second motor ground to life, and shortly thereafter, the floodlights crept back into existence. It had taken no more than five minutes for the Feds to get the lights on.

  Why had they been off earlier?

  Too many questions. Too many coincidences. Wolfe and Jennifer went straight back to the boardinghouse, but they did not go in. They waited outside, where they could see without being seen. Jennifer curled up on the ground under a bush, with Buddy squeezed in beside her. Wolfe watched with his naked eyes, enjoying the darkness while watching for an ambush from the boardinghouse.

  But nothing happened. The home remained dark until the first tendrils of morning crawled over the horizon to greet him and make him put his goggles on. He left Jennifer behind as he made a circuit, listening at the door of the fruit cellar in case a group waited there. No one waited. In the boardinghouse, Bessie was busying herself in the kitchen.

  When Wolfe returned to the sleeping girl, Buddy’s head was up, and he was watching.

  “Good boy. You know your job. What do you say we sneak you a slice of bacon and then get some shut-eye?” Wolfe slung his rifle over his back and carefully picked Jennifer up, and she snuggled into to his chest without waking up. He hurried through the shadows, up the front porch, and inside while it was still too dark for normal people to see. The dog followed him through, letting the door slam louder than he wanted.

  He stopped in his tracks and glared at the dog. Buddy sniffed once, and with tongue lolling, headed for the kitchen.

  “Hide the bacon. The dog’s coming,” Wolfe called toward the open kitchen door.

  “Get out of here, you thieving hound!” Bessie shouted before he heard the sound of a spatula smacking a dog’s rump. Buddy ran past, carrying a slab of bacon in his mouth. With his arms full of the young girl, the best he could do was try to trip the dog, but that failed. Buddy ran under the table and started chewing. That ended any hope for breakfast bacon.

  “I apologize, Miss Bessie,” Wolfe said when the woman appeared. He did not say anything else. He was not going to promise to replace the meat. He did not know if he could. “Thank you for turning off the power. They have a backup generator. The lights came back on after about five minutes.”

  She looked at him closely. “Was that enough time to get what you needed?”

  “The lights were off when we got there. I thought your person at the power station had gone early, but then the power went out exactly at two.”

  “They test things on occasion. Maybe that’s what it was.”

  “The sentries did not seem to mind, but I saw someone I know in the compound. He is from Idaho, the Red Zone. Would you have any idea why he is here?”

  “Is he a friend?” Bessie asked. The glare Wolfe gave her told her what he thought of the question, although the steel in his eyes remained hidden behind the dark lenses of the welding goggles. “I did not know there were any visitors here, Mister Wolfe. They don’t tell us things like that, and none of my people heard anything. At least, they weren’t able to pass the information along.”

  “We would like to get some sleep, and then I need to think. Do you have any maps of Ashland and the surrounding area?”

  “One.” Bessie went to the check-in counter and opened a drawer. She carefully handed the old map over. “They burned almost everything.”

  Wolfe frowned. No wonder there were so few books. It was yet another way for FEDCOM to control people.

  “Sleep first. Then we will talk. Privately.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jennifer got up around midday to take Buddy outside. Wolfe noted their departure and rolled over to go back to sleep. A commotion outside a few minutes later made him shoot upright. He leaped from the top bunk, landing softly on
the floor. He put his goggles in place, pulled the heavy curtains aside, and looked at the yard. He caught sight of the big dog at the edge of the house. He couldn’t see Jennifer, but she would not be far from Buddy.

  The dog’s hackles were up, and he was growling at something Wolfe couldn’t see. He pulled on his boots and grabbed his rifle, running into the hall and down the stairs. He stopped when he hit the landing and pressed himself against the wall. Bessie was outside, and she was yelling. Wolfe craned his neck to see where they were.

  He edged closer to a corner so he could look out. The front door burst open, and Jennifer and the dog ran in. Bessie backed in, yelling at someone he could not see. She slammed the door and locked it.

  Wolfe tried to see past her, but she yanked the curtains over the front door window.

  “Come on. Get your stuff. Time for us to go,” Wolfe told Jennifer, remaining on the stairs as she climbed past him.

  “It’s not that,” Bessie said. Someone started pounding on the front door.

  “It sounds like exactly that.”

  Jennifer returned while the pounding continued, along with angry shouts. She thrust his bag into his hands, including his bow.

  “Basement,” he whispered, and they ran, hunched over, to the kitchen. He opened the hidden door, and she went down. With his pack over one shoulder, he picked up the dog with one arm, even as big as the hairy beast was. Wolfe’s strength was immense. It was like carrying a small bag for him. He picked his way down the ladder and set the dog down, then climbed back up and pulled the rug to the edge of the door, flipping it as he pulled the door closed.

  But they had seen Jennifer and the dog. Their disappearance would make whoever was trying to get in suspicious if they made it past Bessie. The old girl was putting up a stalwart verbal fight.

  Wolfe pointed toward the tunnel and Jennifer took the dog. He followed close behind. They moved the secret wall and closed it behind them. Wolfe held his finger to his lips. He put his pack and bow down but kept the AR-15 with him. He cracked the fruit cellar door and peeked out. Since it faced the boardinghouse, he could see everything that was going on. A FEDCOM Jeep was parked at the curb.

  “What happened?” Wolfe whispered over his shoulder.

  “They wanted to take Buddy away from me,” Jennifer replied, huffing as if getting ready to cry.

  “What else?”

  “Miss Bessie ran out and stopped them. Started calling them names. I got inside, and she closed the door in their ugly faces.”

  Wolfe nodded as he watched. Two men. They did not seem to be very angry. Wolfe could hear Bessie, but not the exact words. She was fired up.

  “How about some home-baked bread?” one of them called while leaning on the vehicle.

  Her shout back made Wolfe blush. He looked to see if Jennifer had heard, but she was sniffling and had both hands deep in Buddy’s long hair.

  The door to the boardinghouse opened, and a small loaf of bread flew out and hit the closest soldier in the chest. He fumbled it once, twice, and seized it before it hit the ground. He waved at the house, gave half to his partner in crime, and they both climbed back into their vehicle. They drove off, elbows out the window, casually.

  “It’s clear. We can go back now.”

  Bessie was waiting with the door open when they reached the boardinghouse basement. Wolfe sent Jennifer first before he looped an arm around the dog and climbed up to the kitchen.

  “Their idea of fun?” Wolfe asked evenly.

  “You can’t give them an inch. They would have ransacked this house had I let them in.”

  “We can’t have that, now can we, Miss Bessie?” Wolfe checked the time. “Where is Gemini?”

  “He is off today.”

  Wolfe shook his head and went to the refrigerator. There was a sealed bottle inside that looked like a beer.

  “Jumping at shadows, Mister Wolfe?” Bessie asked. He didn’t answer. “Go ahead, take the beer. I know where I can get more. It might not be what you’re used to.”

  “What I’m used to is nothing. It’s better than that. Where did you get your coffee?”

  “Chicory, dandelion root, and some other things. It’s not real coffee. I’d kill for a cup of the good stuff.” Bessie chuckled. Her skin had started to regain its color. She was too old to fight with the younger generation.

  “That was a good throw. You hit him right in the chest.”

  “I was aiming for the bullseye between his legs.”

  Wolfe decided it was better to let it go. He took the beer, thanking Bessie as he popped it open using only his fingers, instinctively turning sideways to the old woman.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Do you think we should?” Bessie asked. Wolfe would not have requested the meeting with members of the underground if there had been another way.

  “I need five things to happen at once, and I can only do two of them,” he said for the third time. “It is important that I talk with them together since they need to work together. It is like loading a truck. More hands can make it easier or harder, depending on how they coordinate the work.”

  “Please don’t get me wrong, Mister Wolfe. I don’t mind that you see them. I’m worried about them seeing each other. It will change how they treat each other when they go about their daily business. It puts the underground at risk.”

  “After tomorrow, I do not think it will matter. Everything will change, for better or worse.” Wolfe took his piece of paper and sketched the timeline of the coming night’s actions. “Has anyone in the underground killed another human being?”

  “We have a couple old fellas who are veterans, but I don’t know if they ever went anywhere. We’ll have to ask them.”

  “Bring them. Anything is better than nothing. We’ll need a young woman who can run, and two bikes. We’ll need men who can throw. We’ll need someone who can climb. We’ll need people who aren’t afraid to shoot a gun,” Wolfe said softly. Gemini leaned in the doorway so he could be part of the conversation, as well as watch the front door. If someone came in, he was there to keep them occupied until Wolfe could disappear. He’d been seen when he’d first entered Ashland, but not since. He wanted to keep it that way.

  Keep the bad guys guessing. Although he did not want the Alstons to move on. It was time for a reckoning. He shook the anger from his head and started roughing out his plan.

  “The challenge is sending the soldiers from the western compound on a wild goose chase that ends in a trap. It starts with the eastern compound after we’ve sent people far to the west.”

  “I don’t understand,” Bessie muttered. “We go west and east to focus on the western compound?”

  Wolfe helped himself to the pad of paper on the table. He drew two columns and labeled them East Compound and West Compound. He added times down the left-hand side, then filled in actions. It looked like a vertical trucker’s logbook, with annotations stating what was supposed to happen and how long each segment would take. Multiple actions overlapped.

  “I don’t see how you’re going to do all of that.” Bessie shook her head vigorously.

  The old woman had been on top of things, but Wolfe was starting to wonder. “That is what the members of the underground are going to help me with. After I meet everyone, I will ask for volunteers for each of the jobs that need to be done. They take skills, but as long as they are giving their best, that is all anyone can ask.” Wolfe’s voice trailed off. He had the strength and speed to get himself out of a bad situation. The volunteers with the underground didn’t. They were the elderly, the women, and even children.

  The healthy men had been drafted and sent away. Wolfe suspected that meant the ones who did not go over to the FEDCOM way were dealt with in the harshest way, their bodies left in ditches for the vultures.

  “When are they coming?”

  “Ten,” Bessie replied. “Another few hours before they get here.”

  “Someone will see them since people do not usually move around at night. I
didn’t see anyone roaming the streets.”

  “There is no other way. This is the biggest place we have complete control over.”

  Wolfe started to fret. He stood and paced, looking out the windows as he passed. He was not sure what he expected to see. The Feds were keeping to themselves, and that caused him some concern. He expected they were up to no good. By not being outside, he could not see what they were doing, and not knowing was digging at him. So much depended on avoiding the FEDCOM soldiers.

  “Relax, Mister Wolfe. The good people of Ashland know how to handle the soldiers. Usually, they just give in to whatever the soldiers want, no matter how foul. One more time is not going to kill anyone.”

  “It might just kill the soldiers, though,” Gemini added grimly.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wolfe had moved to the shadows. Even with his welding glasses on, he found more comfort in the darkness.

  The meeting had just ended, and the first people were getting ready to head out, a brother and sister on bikes. They were younger than he wanted, but they had volunteered, and had the energy to ride ten to twenty miles.

  The girl was dressed like a boy in ill-fitting men’s clothes and had short-cropped hair to avoid unwanted attention from the soldiers. She had the voice Wolfe wanted, along with the wiry frame to climb the pole. Wolfe handed the young man a small toolkit and a wired phone that Bessie had acquired earlier.

  “One more time,” Wolfe coaxed.

  “Emergency! Wilders are attacking the Red Zone crossing. Bring everyone to stop them. Please hurry!” She smiled innocently after she had finished.

  “Can you lower your voice and sound older?”