Sanctuary: A Post Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller (Surrender the Sun Book 2)

by A. R. Shaw

  Thinking of the Osprey, Bishop wanted nothing more than to gun down each and every one of them and load Maeve and Ben aboard the craft to fly out of there. If only he knew how to fly the damn thing himself. First he’d have to identify the pilots, and none of these guys looked like flyboys. More than likely the pilots stayed with the craft.

  “We had some problems, Mr. Geller. Roman…didn’t make it.”

  Why doesn’t he call the man “dad”?

  “Didn’t make it? He’s…dead?”

  No response came to Bishop, so he assumed Austin had nodded his head.

  “Well, what’s going on here then? Who’s in charge?”

  “I am,” came Austin’s weak response. “I’ve had a lot of help, though. We’ve lost a lot of people. Many of the residents had to move into the hotel, since they had no way of heating their homes or were homeless. I’m so glad you’re here now, though. We really need your help.”

  With a lowered voice, Bishop could only make out the words, “You did well…” If Geller had said son, it was too low for Bishop to hear from his position. For all he knew, Geller never did acknowledge that Austin was his son—in public or in private, for that matter.

  “Well, it looks like you’ve got things under control here.”

  Bishop could tell they were walking forward toward him, due to the voice inflection. Several residents saw him hiding there, and their eyes would follow the men and then nervously glance at him and then back again. Clearly they weren’t sure what to do. Taking a step back toward the wall, Bishop kept track of their movements and adjusted accordingly to keep himself concealed. There was something about Geller’s jovial voice he didn’t trust but couldn’t tell for certain; he sounded more like a car salesman than a man concerned for his son’s well-being. He nodded to the residents passing by to get out of the way. Giving them stern looks when they popped their heads his way, Bishop hoped they took the silent hint to make themselves scarce.

  “We’re running out of food, sir. The hunters bring back less each day. There’s been a lot of death, and people are beginning to show signs of starvation. We’ve ice-fished the lake. I swear there’s nothing left in there. The trout were frozen dead in the water with the sudden drop in temperatures. We’re down to one meal a day, except for the children and pregnant women.”

  “I see,” Geller said as if he were in a business meeting and not a post-collapse situation, and then the thing that bothered him dawned on Bishop…Geller wasn’t there to help them. He wanted something. He was here to help himself, and Bishop needed to find out what that something was and get to whatever it was, first—if his guess was right. The guards flanked Geller very closely. They certainly didn’t seem like they were here to relax by any means nor offer any assistance.

  And as if reading his mind, Austin too asked Geller, “How long are you staying? You are here to help us, aren’t you?”

  The only thing Bishop hoped was that Austin didn’t mention him in this conversation. He needed to remain the silent partner.

  “I’m just here to assess the situation. I couldn’t get a radio transmission out for these last few weeks. Seems many people are having trouble transmitting. Something to do with the lack of sun spots and a lower-than-usual electromagnetic field that is also a result of the Maunder Minimum, I hear. So we’ve made the trip. It’s pretty dangerous out there. Power is out everywhere. People are panicking. Many have moved to South America, if you can believe that. Looks like a lot of the crops in the south just froze over. Like here, starvation is setting in. The citrus fields are all just gone.”

  “But…you’re doing all right? You and Mrs. Geller? The rest of your family?”

  Your family?

  “Yes…yes, we made plans long ago,” Geller said with his voice lowered as if it were a secret kept still. They stopped just in front of one of the lobby’s roaring fireplaces that kept the building warm. Then he drew near Austin and whispered something in his ear. Bishop could only see from a distance, as he hid out near the stairwell still. The guards around them limited his view, but when Austin pulled away, his expression was slack-jawed.

  “Of course, we’re taking you back with us, Austin. We’re only here for an hour or two before we take off.”

  A momentary pause lapsed as Bishop watched the scene. Austin bore the look of complete betrayal. Then he blurted out, “But they’ll all die!”

  Geller lowered his hands in a sign to keep his voice down, afraid he was making a scene.

  At the same time, the guards twisted their heads around, guns at the ready. They were nervous.

  “You can’t do that! At least send that aircraft back to take these people out of here. Can you at least do that?”

  “We don’t have the resources for that, Austin. Please keep your voice down. You don’t want to cause a panic.”

  Austin raised his arm toward the glass looking out over the lake. “There’s no hiding. You just landed an aircraft out there on the ice when no one has seen a plane in the sky for weeks! Everyone knows you’re here, and they’re hoping you’re here to help.”

  The guards looked increasingly nervous. Geller placed his hand on Austin’s shoulder. “Austin, let’s go somewhere private and talk about this.”

  Bishop growled to himself. He didn’t think that was a good idea. At least not for Austin. After seeing the man in action, he didn’t put it past the old man to order Austin’s death in an instant. His own son was not of value to him, and that was only too apparent to Bishop.

  They started to walk toward one of the hallways leading to a conference room, causing Bishop to make a quick decision. He didn’t really like the idea. Not with the easy trigger mechanism on those four MP7s. But he did it anyway. Dropping his pack in the stairwell, he hid his tactical knife in his pocket and pulled up his rifle, pointing it down as he walked and plastered an easygoing smile on his face as he allowed himself to be seen out into the open lobby right behind the group.

  “Hey, Austin,” he said.

  The rear guards backed up and moved at an angled echelon behind Bishop with a firm grip on their MP7s. Bishop feigned surprise and lifted his one arm in a show of ease.

  “Bishop! I didn’t expect you back yet,” Austin said and turned to him.

  “Mr. Geller, this is Captain Mark Bishop. He’s the big reason we’ve been able to survive here. I don’t know how things would have turned out without him.”

  Warily, Geller reached for Bishop’s hand, and as they shook, Bishop looked the man in the eyes, discerning a gentlemanly facade that led to nothing more than a void within.

  “Nice to meet you. I must thank you for helping Austin get a handle on this place.”

  Bishop only dropped his chin in a firm nod. Then assessing the guards around them, he kept his motions open and clear, making sure to keep the rifle end toward the floor. He noted their guns, knives, and attached gear without making his observations known. They were watching him just as closely.

  Geller continued, “If you’ll excuse us, my assistant and I have a few matters to discuss.” With a nudge on the back of Austin’s shoulder, he pushed him forward toward the lobby conference rooms.

  “Wait. Whatever this is about, I want Bishop there as well,” Austin said.

  Suddenly Mr. Geller stopped in his tracks, stuffing his hands into his pockets, and twisted his lips. “What I need to discuss with you, Austin, is between you and me.”

  Knowing Austin would fold, Bishop said, “That’s all right, Austin. I’ll wait for you here. If there’s something I can do to help, just let me know.”

  Giving two of the guards a look, Geller then escorted Austin to the conference room, while two of the four guards remained guarding Bishop.

  Bishop chuckled to himself, knowing what was ahead of him with the two guards. Austin gave him a raised-eye look over his shoulder as he trailed Geller obediently.

  Through the glass, Bishop saw only Geller close the door from the inside, with the dim window light cascading inside the roo
m.

  Then came a voice. On any other occasion he would have craved for it, but not this one.

  “Bishop!” Maeve said, coming toward him with a skip.

  Dammit…please, no.

  “I didn’t know you were back!”

  Walking toward her position gave the guards the opportunity to move around a bit. He purposely pulled her into his chest for a long hug, but before he could whisper in her ear, she said something first.

  “Should we go to the shelter?”

  “Yes” was all he said and then laid a tender kiss on her neck just below her earlobe and gave her a brief squeeze, hoping she’d understand he was worried about what might go down soon.

  She pulled away and gave him a nervous smile. “I’ll see you later, then.” All with the eyes…she told him volumes. Please be safe…I love you. Don’t you dare die on me…

  He nodded, and knowing the guards were watching every subtle move, he pulled an ever-elusive mask of nonemotion. They couldn’t see that he loved her more than life itself. That expression would change everything; her life in jeopardy of a fleeting moment.

  As she safely made it to the stairwell, she gave him one last nervous glance. One of the guards caught the look…taking in evidence. Maeve wasn’t adept at concealing her emotions, yet. Part of him—the heart part—loved that about her, but that kind of emotion would make her vulnerable as a target against him.

  The stairwell door closed with a click then. “Hey, you guys want to take a seat. You don’t need to stand around,” Bishop said and motioned for them to come over to the couches lining the comfortable lobby.

  Of course, he knew that wasn’t something they’d take advantage of…he was trying to divert their attention.

  Neither answered nor did they shake their heads. They only continued to scan the room while at the same time keeping Bishop within range without the other guard in crosshairs. Several residents still crossed the lobby with wary trepidation. One man began to walk toward him at a distance with an obvious question on his mind. Bishop merely shook his head from the distance, and the guy turned on his heel and quickly walked the other way.

  He couldn’t keep the people back much longer. There was an aircraft parked outside for the first time since this all began, and they were all murmuring with curiosity. He knew the needs of the town were precarious.

  “So do you guys need refreshments?” Bishop ventured, trying to throw them off the fact that they knew he was also as skilled as they were.

  Behind the glasses of one of the guards, he detected a smirk. This cat-and-mouse game could only go on so long. The office door opened suddenly, and Austin came out of the room, pulling his arm away from Mr. Geller’s grasp. His face beat red as if they’d been arguing. The kid looked as if he might even cry. For all they’d been through, Bishop had not witnessed Austin in this state. That might have something to do with his dead-beat dad. In fact, Bishop was sure of it.

  The guard closest to Bishop began to raise his weapon toward Austin, when the young man yelled behind him, “I am not going along with this!”

  In an instant, Bishop quickly shoved the rifle end toward the ground while yanking the guard in front of him as a shield from the others. He at least had a bulletproof vest on.

  Austin stopped short.

  “Hey! No reason to get nervous!” Bishop yelled out. “He’s just pissed off at his dad!” Bishop thought that purposely blurting the secret out in the open might keep the guards from blowing Austin away—at least he hoped so. “It’s a family affair!”

  Releasing the guard, he expected an immediate reaction, but perhaps the uncertainty of the situation kept him from attacking Bishop. In fact, the other guards were glancing at one another as well as Geller.

  Bishop could use this confusion to his advantage. Bringing forward his own weapon, he stepped aside the guard and raised his right hand. “Just so we don’t have any misunderstandings here.”

  Bishop was sure that the lips of the guard whom he had released were drawn into thin lines and that, behind the glasses, he glowered at him.

  Bishop had taken him by surprise and that was always an embarrassment for private military personnel who prided themselves in the ultimate of specialized training. Though Bishop had blown his cover in the move, he also prevented the other guards from firing, knowing their comrade would die in a slippery half-second.

  Now he needed to separate Austin from the group and find out what the hell Geller was after. “Are you all right, Austin?”

  Still stunned by the scene, he choked out. “I think so.” Pointing his thumb behind him, he gestured toward Geller. “They’re here for something in the vault downstairs. That’s all.” He shook his head in disgust. “They’re leaving us here! They didn’t come to help at all.”

  “I said I’m taking you with us!” Geller yelled back with his hands on his hips as if disappointed in his assistant’s outburst.

  Austin shook his head in disgust. “I’m…not going anywhere with you…Dad!”

  Stop now, Austin, Bishop thought. He’ll drop you in an instant, bastard son or not.

  Geller then signaled to the guards. The one whom Bishop had handled turned on him as in a challenge to move or to follow.

  “Come on, Austin,” Geller said over his shoulder in a tone fully expecting his assistant to follow.

  “I’m not coming with you.”

  That’s when Geller nodded to one of his guards, who instantly grabbed Austin and shoved him forward.

  “You’re coming with us. This isn’t negotiable.”

  Not expecting him to move, Bishop pulled the MP4 from the guard and used him as a shield from the others, again. Being bested twice wasn’t going to go down well. “Let him go!” he yelled. “Austin, walk this way!”

  At the same time, Bishop nudged his shield forward and behind a concrete column just in time for one of the other guards to take a pop shot at him, blowing, instead, a few chunks of the concrete column away.

  His shield bucked backward in an attempt to regain his weapon, but Bishop had anticipated this and, instead, went ahead and shot him through the side of the chest, bypassing his gear. By this time, Austin was on the ground, taking cover.

  More shots exploded from two of the other guards as the third whisked Mr. Geller away toward the basement staircase.

  The remaining mercenaries were spreading apart and trying to position themselves with a clear line of fire with Bishop as their main objective. Austin raised his head.

  “Stay down, Austin!”

  He had to get to him before they did.

  It was possible Geller told them to keep Austin alive, but by the guard’s reaction, he didn’t think so, which meant he was an asset to him. But it was just as likely Geller designated the young man expendable.

  Tired of screwing around with these guys, Bishop sent a shot out, taking down the guard coming up on his left, and then pulled his handgun on the one quickly coming up on his right and caught the next guard in the shoulder, sending him backward and into range of the MP7, so Bishop instantly switched arms and sent a ribbon through his exposed neck and chest.

  That’s when he heard the screaming. Several of the residents in the lobby and bar were taking cover, several with their own rifles out and peeking around corners. Not sure of what to do, many were hysterical with terror and memories of their recent pasts.

  Coming around the corner at Austin, Bishop scouted around for Geller and the other guard. He also didn’t put it past them to have backup coming. That Osprey sure as hell held more than just four guards. He was sure they had more to spare.

  “Stay there, Austin.”

  Austin yelled to him angrily, “Can you slide something to me?”

  Bishop knew he meant a firearm, and the fact that he was mad was a good thing. He felt betrayed, and Bishop hoped this would be an eye-opening experience for him to finally take his advice on carrying a firearm at all times.

  “Here.” He slid the bolt-action shotgun across the concr
ete flooring, the stock just barely touching Austin’s finger. “Slowly, Austin, make your way over, but stay down.”

  In the meantime, Bishop pulled the soldier’s load carrier as well as his ballistic-plated vest off his lifeless body and put the vest on himself. He also grabbed his side knife and sidearm. Then he quickly made his way over to the downed guard on the left and did the same for Austin. As Austin came over to him, his chest heaved in anger. He helped him into the black vest and handed him another MP7, briefly showing him how to pull the trigger, without words.

  Austin nodded in understanding, though his face was red in anger.

  “Austin…use the anger. Don’t let it use you.” He patted him on the shoulder once. “Let’s go.”

  Knowing at least which door Geller and the guard descended, they had a basic understanding of where they were and what exits they might take. Bishop had only been down in the concrete basement once, while checking out the facility’s utilities. It was where the generators were and the rest of the hotel systems were housed.

  Slashing two fingers forward to signal to Austin where they were headed, Bishop ran into three more volunteer residents who were armed around the corner with hunting rifles and pointed to where Bishop already knew Geller and his guards had gone. He signaled to them, and they got into position behind him as they made their way there. Bishop motioned for one to go to the left of them and watch the windows where more soldiers were likely to come from.

  Several of these guys were post-military like himself but not as skilled, and, frankly, Bishop worried for their safety. He’d done his best to retrain them, but then, again, he didn’t want to see anyone else die today—least of all himself.

  At the door, the shots he feared would come did—right from the front entrance shattering one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, causing the cold winter to enter like a freight train. The flames within the fireplaces roared, and when one man dropped to his left, Bishop pulled back behind the corner.

  Returning fire in the direction that it came, Bishop could make out no one in the grayness. Screw this! he thought and flung open the heavy steel door that led down darkened steps. Shooting around the door’s edge, he reached around with his other hand and grabbed Austin by the vest and flung him through the opening. The others followed them hastily.