Apocalypse Unleashed (Left Behind: Apocalypse Dawn 4)

by Mel Odom

  “I think that’s what it’s about,” Jenny said. “Your mom says there’s going to be seven more years that we can exist on this world before God comes back. During that time, we’re supposed to figure out our relationship with Him, find ways to get closer to Him.”

  “Yeah. But that’s hard.”

  “What?”

  “Believing God really cares. If He really cared about me, about having a relationship with me, I wouldn’t be in all the trouble I’m in now.” Too late, Joey realized he’d said more than he’d intended to.

  “What trouble?” Jenny asked.

  He tried not to tell her. He wanted to hold back and be strong. More than that, he was afraid that once he told her, Jenny would feel compelled to tell someone else. The police. Or his mother.

  Instead, when he finished, while he wiped the tears from his face and felt ashamed and guilty and scared, Jenny just sat there. She didn’t look at him and she didn’t say a word.

  Finally she asked, “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice was thin and hoarse.

  “You said they came looking for you?”

  “Yeah. They’re at the post.”

  “Are they looking for you now?”

  “I don’t know.” Joey resisted the impulse to shrug. “Maybe they came there because they heard the fort was offering shelter to kids. Maybe Bones spotting me was just bad luck. I seem to have a lot of that lately.”

  Jenny squeezed his hand. “You can’t just ignore them. They’re not going to go away. Not if they’re afraid you’re going to tell on them.”

  “I know.”

  “You could go to the police.”

  “They’d lock me up, Jenny. According to the law, I’m as guilty of murdering that man as Zero is. He made us all murderers when he pulled that trigger.” Joey shook his head. “I couldn’t handle being locked up. I’d rather kill myself.”

  “Don’t talk like that.”

  “It’s true,” he whispered. “And maybe that’s how this is supposed to work out.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  Jenny’s words made Joey feel hopeful. For just a moment. Then reality set in again. She would tell him that. She had to. It’s what he would have told her if their roles had been reversed.

  “There’s something else,” Joey said. “I heard Mom’s trying to fix it so that the families of the soldiers in Turkey can go over there.”

  “Why?”

  “So we can be together. And so we can help them. At least until the government decides to bring them home.”

  “Do you think she’s going to be able to make that happen?”

  “Yeah, I think so. A lot of people at the fort look up to Mom these days.”

  “Are you going?”

  “It would give me a chance to get away from all of this,” Joey answered. “I could get away from Zero and the rest of those guys.”

  Jenny was quiet for a time. “I think,” she said finally, “that might be the best thing you could do.”

  “I know.” Joey focused on her. “Mom could arrange it so you could come with us.”

  Jenny shook her head.

  Joey squeezed her hand. “Please. I really want you to go.”

  “I can’t.” Her voice sounded dry and husky, as if she was about to cry. “I’ve got to stay here. With my dad. He needs me.”

  Silently Joey cursed his bad luck. He leaned back against the wall and stared at the darkened ceiling. “I can’t stay,” he whispered. “I just wanted you to understand.”

  “And I can’t go,” she replied. “I hope you understand.”

  Joey nodded.

  “If things were different,” Jenny said, “I’d go.”

  “If they were, I’d stay.”

  “But they’re not,” she said.

  Joey sat there and tried to think of something to say. The attraction he’d initially felt for Jenny had changed. It was no longer purely physical, but now it was stronger than anything he’d ever felt before. And he was being forced to walk away from her. It wasn’t fair.

  “When your mom goes,” Jenny said, “you need to go with her. I don’t want you to get hurt. And your mom will need you. Those soldiers can use whatever help you can give.”

  “I know.” Joey sat there quietly and held her hand. He didn’t want to think about leaving her. But he knew he couldn’t stay. He felt helpless and trapped.

  And alone. Even though Jenny was sitting next to him, he was pretty certain she felt the same way. It was incredibly lousy.

  30

  Outside Harran

  Sanliurfa Province, Turkey

  Local Time 0826 Hours

  Pain filled Marcus Allen’s world. He opened his eyes and stared up at the blinding sun. Automatically, after listening and hearing no movement around him, he felt for his Oakleys, but they weren’t there. He cursed the pain and the fact that the sunglasses were probably broken. The expense didn’t bother him so much as the effort it had taken to get them.

  He rolled onto his side and located the Galil rifle he carried as his lead weapon. The RPG was nowhere to be seen. He dragged himself to his feet and walked over to the wrecked Land Rover, which sat upside down.

  Weaver was just rousing, dangling from the seat belt that had kept him locked in. He groaned as he felt his chest.

  “Anything broken?” Allen asked.

  “No, but there was definitely no lack of trying.”

  Kosheib cut himself free of his jammed seat restraints with a combat knife. “Collins is dead.” He jerked a thumb at the man on his right.

  Kneeling, Allen peered through the passenger window. All the glass had broken out. Collins, in his forties and a habitual smoker, hung upside down with his arms over his head like he was involved in a bank holdup. A lit cigarette singed his dead lips.

  “What happened?” Allen asked.

  “Broken neck.” Kosheib grabbed the dead man’s hair and jerked his head to one side. It lay almost on his shoulder, obviously disconnected. Without another word, the Sudanese released the dead man and kicked the passenger door open with a screech.

  “What about Heinrich?” Allen asked.

  “I’m alive,” the young German killer answered calmly. “Just waiting for the opportunity to get out.” He was thin and had a mop of unruly black hair. Even on his best days he reminded Allen of a weasel.

  “What do you want to do with Collins?” Kosheib asked.

  “Leave him.” Nobody got a burial in Allen’s unit. If they survived to the end of a contract, they got the rest of their bounty and maybe a bonus from a happy client. No one in the group had any kind of history that would tie them to the others.

  “Is the truck going to be driveable?” Heinrich climbed out through the door as well.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Allen replied. “We’re trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea. We can’t go forward because we’ll be running into the American forces in Sanliurfa that aren’t going to be happy with us. We try to go back, we’re going to end up in the midst of the advancing Syrian army.”

  Weaver dusted himself off. “You thinking we’re going to get out of Turkey on foot?”

  “Or find a roundabout way into Sanliurfa. We get there, Cody will help us get out of the country. Or at least keep us hid out.”

  SCUDs flew by overhead. The heavy thunder of their passing echoed against the hard-packed earth.

  “Maybe Sanliurfa isn’t the best place we could be,” Kosheib observed.

  “We took on the contract,” Allen replied. “We haven’t been pulled off of it.”

  “We’re not exactly going to have the element of surprise on our side if we go into Sanliurfa.” Heinrich kneeled by Collins’s body and quickly rifled the dead man’s pockets. He took money from the man’s pants. When he saw the others staring at him, he looked a little guilty. “What? I’m going to share it with you.” He shoved Collins’s half pack of cigarettes into his shirt pocket.

  “Where’s Ow
ens and his team?” Allen asked.

  No one knew.

  “Spread out and find them.” Allen held his carbine across his body and walked farther into the thick trees around them.

  Local Time 0826 Hours

  Goose woke with blood in his eyes and a splitting headache. He lay on his back and took a breath. Keeping calm took effort.

  Move slowly, he told himself. If you’re hurt bad, you don’t want to make it worse. He’d seen wounded soldiers in the field go from manageable casualties to life-and-death situations in a heartbeat. All it took was a piece of broken bone to slice an artery.

  He worked his hands and feet first. Then he drew his right arm up to wipe the blood from his eyes. He’d figured out what it was from the copper taste that leaked into his mouth. Blurred vision returned to him.

  He stared up at the tree canopy. The white flesh of broken branches stood out against the verdant green and dull charcoal gray bark. Those partly explained how the fall hadn’t killed him.

  He moved gingerly to explore his body. Sudden movements would be stupid. As he shifted more and more of himself, there was more pain.

  Push through the pain. Pain just means you’re still alive.

  The distant thunder of the Syrian heavy armor grew closer.

  And you’re not outta the woods yet. Goose looked around at the trees. Literally.

  A few minutes later, after he’d made sure he was intact and nothing was ruptured so that nothing that belonged inside his body was suddenly going to be outside, he forced himself to his feet. His M-4A1 lay nearby. He picked it up.

  He spent a few minutes trying to connect with the Ranger communications but wasn’t successful. Either he was in a black hole for the signal or the Syrians were jamming the frequencies.

  Remembering that Miller and Icarus had fallen with him, he went in search of the other two men. The throbbing in his knee hurt terribly, and he had difficulty walking. He tracked the others through the broken branches that blazed a trail through the canopy. Thankfully none of them had been impaled on the way down.

  Miller lay twenty yards away, behind a large boulder he’d missed by less than a foot. The man was out cold, and at first Goose feared that he was dead. Miller’s chest rose and fell slowly, though. Relieved, Goose went over to the chaplain and did a visual inspection for injuries without moving him. There was no blood around Miller, so Goose took that as a positive. Gently Goose touched the man’s shoulder.

  “Captain Miller,” Goose said.

  Miller didn’t move.

  Goose shook the man a little harder. “Captain Miller, you got to get up. The Syrians are coming.”

  Footsteps sounded behind Goose. He spun and brought the M-4A1 up in one hand.

  Icarus stepped out through the trees. He tucked his right arm behind his Kevlar vest. His features looked pale. “We’ve got trouble,” he said.

  Local Time 0829 Hours

  Allen found Owens’s vehicle jammed between trees and brush. A broken tree limb protruded from the driver’s chest. The jagged shard had pierced his heart and stopped it so suddenly that there was little blood.

  Manfred Owens, a native Bostonian with a short-cropped beard and long hair, fumbled in an effort to free himself from the passenger seat. He was a broad bulldog of a man with burn scarring on the left side of his face and neck.

  “Cody’s target I’m going to assassinate for the fee,” Owens declared as he pushed himself out and up. “I get the chance, though, I’m going to throw some of those Syrians in for free. What was that? A dud?”

  “If it had been a dud, it wouldn’t have blown up,” Weaver said. “Must have had a fuel problem. Something. Fell way short of the target.”

  “No joke,” Owens growled.

  “Heinrich, Weaver, Kosheib,” Allen said. “Set up a loose perimeter. Could be the Syrians saw us and may have someone along soon.”

  “Roger that.” Heinrich swept the hair from his eyes and set off at once. The other two joined him in setting up a three-post guard, fanning out from the wreck site fifty yards away.

  When he checked the rear of the Land Rover, Allen found Purvis disoriented and McElroy just regaining consciousness. With Owens’s help, he helped both of them from the wreck. Newton was a different story. He was semiconscious and in pain. But his right leg was broken in three places.

  “Can you walk?” Allen asked.

  Fear tightened Newton’s eyes. He was young and desperate. The United States had a murder charge waiting on him if he returned there.

  “Sure,” Newton answered. “I can walk.”

  Without a word, Allen stood by and waited.

  Newton forced his way out of the Land Rover and stood on his good leg. Allen shoved a hand into the man’s chest, catching him off guard. Newton tried to remain standing, but his broken leg buckled and he went down with a scream of pain. He pulled himself back up, clawing at the Land Rover like an animal.

  “No! Allen, please don’t!”

  Allen already had his pistol in his fist. He held it only a few inches from Newton’s face and pulled the trigger three times. The dead man’s blood spattered Allen’s fist. He wiped his weapon clean on Newton’s shirt.

  Allen’s sat-phone rang. Only three people had the number. He answered.

  “You missed your target,” Alexander Cody said.

  “Do you know that for a fact?”

  “I’m looking at video footage of Icarus and two other men falling from the helicopter at the same time the SCUD landed near you.”

  Allen turned and looked north. The woods were thick and filled with brush. He suspected there was an underground spring or watershed concealed somewhere within the forest.

  “Your fee isn’t going to be paid until you can guarantee the kill,” Cody said.

  “Understood,” Allen said. “Are you sure the target is alive?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know that he’s dead. It’s your job to get me proof.”

  “I will.” Allen closed the phone, looked at his men, and explained the situation.

  “More than likely,” Owens said, “all we have to do is find their bodies.”

  “Then that’s what we’re going to do.”

  Owens glanced back to the south. The loud noise of the Syrian advancement filled the forest around them. “This is gonna be a bad place to get caught by those Syrian soldiers.”

  “Let’s plan on not getting caught,” Allen suggested.

  Owens still didn’t look happy.

  “If you want to hump out on your own,” Allen said, “I’ll understand. I don’t mind finding a dead guy and splitting the bounty six ways.”

  Owens cursed. “I’m in.”

  Allen called the others in, then explained the situation to Weaver, Kosheib, and Heinrich. They didn’t look happy either.

  “I do not like this,” Kosheib said.

  “Neither do I,” Allen admitted. “But that missile didn’t take us off the board—”

  “Not all of us,” Heinrich said, looking down at Newton.

  “—so I figure we’ve got enough luck to get paid for this.” Allen paused. “And no matter how you look at it, we’re going to have to go north in order to keep from encountering the Syrians.”

  “The target may still be alive,” Heinrich pointed out.

  “Then he’s not going to be that way for long.” Allen slung his rifle over his shoulder, grabbed extra canteens from the Land Rover, and set off into the brush.

  Grumbling and cursing, his pack of wolves trailed at his heels.

  31

  Outside Harran

  Sanliurfa Province, Turkey

  Local Time 0829 Hours

  Goose lowered his weapon but didn’t put it away. “What kind of trouble?”

  “The guys who shot us down are going to come looking for us,” Icarus said. “I know some of them. Their leader, for one. His name is Marcus Allen. They’re all stone killers.”

  Reflecting on the explosion outside the helicopter, Goose knew the att
ack had come from the ground. There’d been no Syrian aircraft around, and they’d been far enough ahead of the enemy ground troops that he hadn’t believed they’d accounted for the attack.

  “How far back are they?” Goose asked.

  “Six, seven hundred yards.”

  “You saw them?”

  “Yes.”

  “And they’re hunting us?”

  “If they aren’t yet, they will be soon.”

  “What kind of vehicles do they have?”

  “Both their vehicles are disabled. They’re on foot.”

  Goose nodded. “Gives us a chance. How do you know them?”

  “They work for Alexander Cody. And for Nicolae Carpathia.”

  “Where did you get that information?” Goose wasn’t happy with how little he knew about the situation they were all in.

  Icarus shook his head. “We don’t have time for a question and answer session. If they catch us, we’re dead.”

  “If the Syrian army catches us, we’re dead.” Goose gazed back to the south. “We don’t have anything but trouble all the way around us.”

  Icarus glanced at Miller. “How’s he?”

  “Just knocked out. I was about to wake him when you came up on me.”

  “We need to get him up and moving.” Icarus shifted his arm and grimaced.

  “How’s the wing?” Goose asked.

  “Broken elbow.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. I’ve had a broken elbow before.”

  “We’re all lucky we didn’t get real busted up coming down through those trees.”

  Icarus grimaced. “Not lucky enough.”

  “How many men back there?”

  “Seven.”

  “They’re all the same as this Allen you mentioned?”

  Icarus nodded.

  “What kind of training have they had?”

  “Allen and some of the others were in military and spy organizations.”

  Tension washed over Goose. It was a long way to Sanliurfa. “You got anything for pain?”