Shadows of Ash (The Nameless Book 2)

by Adrian J. Smith

  “A fight? Just you and me?”

  “Just you and me, Connors.”

  Ryan loosened his shirt and took off his satchel, kicking it over to Cal. She was still gasping, her eyes blinking at him.

  As Dudek had talked, Ryan had inched forward. He rose onto the balls of his feet and charged, jolting right at the last second. A lot of his fighting style was misdirection. Fool the opponent into thinking you’re going to do one thing, then do another. Ryan jabbed with his right fist, stepped forward, and brought his left knee into Dudek’s ribs. Dudek grunted and twisted at the savage blow. He fended off Ryan’s follow-through jab and smashed a powerful right hook under Ryan’s defenses and into his chest, just above the heart. Then he pounced with a left jab so hard it rattled Ryan’s teeth. Points of yellow lights flashed in his vision. He shook his head, trying to stop the spinning. He staggered, trying to regain his balance.

  “You’re pathetic. Hardly worthy for me to fight you. That’s the problem with you spy boys. Not enough real-world fighting.” Dudek slammed his fist into Ryan again. Harder – if that was possible.

  “Pathetic,” Dudek said again, and punched him in the stomach and kidneys, brutal blows, full of hatred. Full of loathing and anger.

  Ryan feebly hit him a couple of times, but the lack of oxygen in his lungs made it difficult. He gasped as each blow crushed his confidence a little more.

  Dudek’s grin was maniacal. “When I was a boy growing up in Detroit, there were plenty of kids like you. All flash and all talk. Parading around school, girls hanging off their arms. But when the chips are down and the enemy is bombarding you with everything they got, those boys are the first to die. Silent, apart from crying for their mamas. Pathetic.” He smashed Ryan’s kidney again.

  The nanites might heal, but the pain remained, sharp and exploding. But Ryan was losing on purpose. He wanted Dudek to become overconfident, like Mohammed Ali’s famous “Rope-a-dope.” Take the beating. Infuriate the enemy. Take the punishment and rise each time to face more. He could hear John Stapleton’s words clearly in his pain filled mind.

  Defeat the opponent in their mind and they are yours.

  Ryan gritted his teeth and rose first to one knee, then the other, before standing and glaring at Dudek.

  “You’re the traitor, Dudek. You and Ward should be on the list, not me.” He feinted with a left jab and a right, bringing up a knee. Dudek blocked it all and crushed his forearm into Ryan’s nose. Blood gushed out as the cartilage shattered, soaking his shirt in seconds. He dropped back down to one knee. He may be losing on purpose, but he was taking the worst beating of his life. His kidneys screamed at him as pain from the crushing blows pulsated through his torso.

  “Pathetic.” Dudek smashed a knee into his face, loosening teeth. Ryan slumped to the floor, his eyes fixed on Cal. She had her hand in his satchel. She had understood with perfect clarity why he had kicked it to her.

  Dudek grabbed his knife from his discarded belt. “You see, Connors, you and your pitiful team of glorified hackers are no match for us.” He stabbed Cal in the left knee, driving the blade in deep and twisting it. She cried out as tears flowed down her cheeks.

  “Leave her. It’s me you want,” Ryan said.

  “Tsk tsk. Wait your turn.” Dudek twisted the knife again, bringing a scream from Cal. “I have some friends coming soon. I think I’ll give your wife to them.”

  As the colonel tortured his wife, Ryan was reminded of what had inspired him to join the army. What inspired him to push himself. To become the best. The helplessness as bullies beat him at junior high. Tormented him. Stronger, more aggressive, they deserved his pity. He didn’t get back at them for physically and mentally abusing him. No. There was no point in that. Bullies are always replaced with more bullies. For Ryan, it was enough to know that, now he was trained, he protected society. Protected people from the real bullies. The real evil of the world.

  He struggled to stand on his shaking legs. “I said. Leave her alone.”

  Cal jabbed the taser under Dudek’s chin. As electricity coursed through his body, he convulsed and went rigid. Cal zapped him again, holding the baton fast against his chest. Dudek began to froth from the mouth. The chopper pilots ran back into the room, drawing their sidearms. Too slow. Ryan shot them both in the chest.

  Pop… Pop.

  They looked at him with stunned eyes. Was it the fact he had shot them, or that Dudek was lying unconscious on the floor? Whatever the case, he didn’t care.

  Pop… Pop.

  Two more nine-millimeter bullets left the barrel, this time entering the pilots’ foreheads and blasting out behind their ears, taking with them blood, cerebral fluid and fragments of skull. Their bodies thumped to the floor.

  Cal jammed the taser into Dudek for a third time, then a fourth.

  Ryan gently pulled her arm away. “That’s enough.” He replaced the baton with his Glock.

  She looked up at him. “You don’t want to do it?”

  He shook his head. Cal shrugged, and shot Dudek three times in the head, coating the carpeted floor with blood and brain matter.

  “The nanites?” Ryan said.

  “Not that advanced. They can heal tissue and bone, but they can’t repair brain synapses or if you take a bullet to an artery.” Her voice whistled with effort. “Here, help me with this.” She tugged on the knife lodged in her knee.

  Despite the nanites that flooded his system, Ryan’s body ached and throbbed in places he hadn’t experienced since his time at the Lodge. He checked to make sure Dudek really was dead. There was no sign of a pulse, and the holes in his skull hadn’t begun to heal over.

  Ryan helped Cal into the office chair before checking on the others. Thankfully Dudek hadn’t known about, or compensated for, the fact that The Nameless had elite nanites. Sofia and Booth were alive. Breathing shallowly, but alive.

  Allie was in worse shape, drifting in and out of consciousness. Ryan made as her comfortable as he could where she lay. They now had only eight hours to go through with their plan. Would it be enough? It had to be. There was no other choice.

  The NSA agents had kept their watch station well stocked with food and medical supplies. Ryan spent a few minutes cleaning his and Cal’s wounds, drinking electrolytes, and refueling with protein bars.

  “Well, this went south fast,” he said between bites.

  “There you go again, Captain Obvious,” Cal said. “I see that hasn’t changed in three years.”

  “Nothing changed. Not even my love for you.”

  Cal smiled. “Still the romantic I fell in love with.”

  “I’m ashamed to say that I had given up hope and was beginning to believe that you were gone.”

  Cal lifted her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know it’s going to be hard for us to get back what we had, but I want to make up for lost time.” She smiled again.

  Ryan tried to read her expression. It conveyed the right body language. Smile soft, lips curled slightly. Shoulders relaxed. Her eyes had crow’s feet creases, but something wasn’t quite right. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. The computer beeped a warning, interrupting his doubts.

  “Can you carry on with what you and Sofia were doing?”

  “Some. We need to contact Avondale first.”

  “I’ll use the radio in the chopper. Going to be tough with the approaching storms.” Ryan grimaced and started to drag Dudek’s body toward the elevator.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Cal said.

  Ryan looked at her blankly. “Help me out here,” he said. “I just took a beating.”

  “The charges.”

  “Shit.” He chastised himself for forgetting such an important detail. The pilots had set explosives during his fight with Dudek. Thankfully they hadn’t bothered to hide the small C4 devices, which all had simple timers set for one hour. All he had to do was pull out the timers. Ryan put them aside. “I’ll do a sweep upstairs too.”

  Cal waved and swung her chair back to
the computer console, dismissing him with a shake of her head.

  Ryan couldn’t help but wonder what had driven a decorated soldier like Dudek to do what he had done. To forego his oaths and take on the manifesto of something else. It was another mystery to add to the ever-growing list.

  Thirty

  Portland, Oregon

  How they had avoided Black Skulls was a miracle. Lisa was drenched in sweat from riding the mountain bike. She and Reid hid in ditches with brush covering them, up trees, in sheds, inside drains – anywhere to escape the Black Skulls. The burning wreckage of the SUV and the cell phone tower was far behind. It was nearing midnight when they finally stopped on the outskirts of Portland.

  “How much farther?” Reid said. “I don’t know how much more of this seat my butt can cope with.”

  “A few more miles. On the other side of the cemetery.”

  Reid grumbled under his breath and adjusted his combat vest. Lisa was happy that the Rabids were sparse. They’d spotted a few walking up hills toward the cell towers. When she’d learned about the towers and satellites, she’d made up her mind to destroy as many as she could, wherever she went. As a child, she’d heard her grandparents talk about World War Two and the exploits of commandos. Destroying bridges, knocking out communications in Nazi Germany. She’d loved those stories. To her, anyone who fought fascism and for their right to freedom was a hero. Now it was her turn to fight a guerrilla war. To fight for not only her freedom, but everyone’s.

  She frowned as her pocket vibrated. It took a few moments for her tired mind to register it was the smartphone Avondale had given her.

  “Avondale.”

  “Director. I found Zanzi.”

  “Where? How?”

  “I’ve been keeping an eye out with the traffic cams and city cams. There was a bustle of activity over in Banfield, so I took a closer look. A battle. Those Black Skulls bozos and some bikers. I nearly missed her but caught her and two others a few blocks over before I lost them in Laurelhurst Park. I’m trying to find her now, but there are limited cameras over there. What’s your location?”

  “Near the Selwood Bridge. Plot me a course to intercept. We’re on our way. Find them. And Avondale?”

  “Yes, Director.”

  “Anything more from The Nameless?”

  “Munroe and the Nimitz have sent men to assist. I’m still waiting for Sofia to contact me. There’s a bad storm in the area that could be affecting the communications.”

  “Okay. Good work.”

  Lisa slipped the phone back in her pocket and turned to Reid. “On your bike, soldier. We have a job to do.”

  Reid groaned but followed Lisa as they pedaled away. The cell phone towers would have to wait. They still had a little time. She had made a promise to find Zanzi and Harriet again. Keep them safe.

  She had made many promises during her distinguished career. Some, she had no way of knowing the outcomes. She had held soldiers’ hands as they died from blood loss after IEDs took their legs. Held sobbing husbands and wives when she told them the news of a deceased loved one. Each death ate away at her soul. She didn’t want to add Zanzi to that list.

  They made good time tracking through the back streets of Portland, keeping off the freeways and cutting through parks. Avondale directed them to the railway tracks and deeper into the city.

  “I found her again. She’s with two others. They’re on electric scooters.”

  “Is there a girl, about fifteen?”

  “Sorry, Director. No.”

  Lisa hurried on, the bike rattling and jarring as she sped along the gravel access road. The night was clear and crisp. The lack of ambient noise made her nervy, but also gave her confidence. Engine noise would travel, echoing through the still air. Still, she kept her eyes peeled.

  On they rode, mile after mile, Avondale giving her directions. He phoned again.

  “I think she’s heading here.”

  “Of course. I should have guessed,” Lisa replied.

  “She’s heading for Ross Island Bridge. If you hurry, you’ll reach her before she crosses.”

  “How’s our six?”

  “You’re clear for now. Those Black Skulls goons aren’t exactly sneaky.”

  The bridge came into view and Lisa spotted three figures riding in the cycle lane. She pulled Reid back. “Stay here. She knows me. I don’t want to spook her.”

  Lisa rode out into the middle of the freeway and turned toward Zanzi. She stopped immediately, shoving her two companions behind her.

  “Zanzi! It’s me, Lisa.” She edged her bike forward a few feet.

  “Lisa?” Zanzi had a pistol trained on her. “If it’s really you, what kind of fish did I catch that day you first let me fly?”

  “I think you called it a snapper.”

  Zanzi laughed, ran forward, and wrapped Lisa in a hug. “I can’t believe it’s you. Where have you been?”

  “I could ask the same about you. Let’s get off the road.”

  Zanzi nodded and beckoned the two women over. Lisa led them down an alley and into an open cafe. They left the bikes and scooters in the kitchen and sat down. Reid took up guard at the window.

  Zanzi and Lisa looked at each other, grinning. “That’s Sergeant Reid,” Lisa said.

  “Tilly and Jacqui.” The women greeted each other with warm smiles. Jacqui was clutching a hefty wrench.

  “I have some good news and some you’re going to find hard to believe,” Lisa said.

  “Ah. Okay.” Zanzi frowned. “Well?”

  Lisa started to speak but stumbled over her words. She had known Zanzi all her life. Watched her grow from a shy bookworm into a confident woman. How did she tell her that the mother she’d thought dead was in fact alive and well?

  “Your father’s alive and trying to stop a second wave. Also, your mother is with him.”

  “My mother? Cal?” Zanzi shook her head and scraped the chair out. “No way. No. I don’t believe you. Why would you tell me that? We buried her!”

  “It’s true. Sofia confirmed it to Avondale.”

  “No. It can’t be. She would never leave me. Stay away. Make me believe she was dead. That’s not her. That’s not the mother I knew.”

  “I didn’t believe it myself. But why would Sofia lie?”

  “Maybe Sofia’s telling us this to mess with our minds. Maybe she’s on ReinCorp’s side.”

  “You know Sofia. That’s not her. Not her style. I should know. I trained her.”

  “Maybe.” Zanzi went to the window and looked out. Reid, Tilly, and Jacqui watched in silence. What was there to say? She had just learned that the mother she’d thought dead all these years was in fact alive and well.

  After a few minutes, Zanzi sat back down at the cafe table and picked at the label on a water bottle. “You know, I always had an itch in the back of my mind that wouldn’t go away. Maybe it’s the DNA we share, but as we buried her, held the memorials, and I watched Dad fall deeper and deeper into a depression, it felt wrong. I thought that it was part of the grieving process, so I threw myself into my studies and work. Now, here amongst the madness, the itch is gone.”

  Lisa reached out and took Zanzi’s hand in her own. She loved her as if she were her daughter. “As soon as we get to Avondale’s, we’ll get them on the radio.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Sergeant Reid, over there, and I have a mission of our own. He’s up to speed. We need to destroy as many cell phone towers as possible before zero-six-hundred. The second wave is being broadcast then. We destroy the towers, no signal.”

  “A second wave?”

  “Yes. The bastards are going to hit everyone again.”

  “Count me in. Once Tilly and Jacqui are safe that is, plus you’ll need the extra pair of hands.”

  Lisa should have guessed. She knew she could always rely on the Connors.

  “Huh,” Jacqui said. “Whatever you white girls are planning, you can count me in. No one messes with my family without retributi
on, and besides, what is the second wave?”

  Lisa sighed. “The day everyone turned to ash. It was caused by nanites inside us. An organization called OPIS broadcasted a signal which – now, I’m theorizing here – switched on a self-destruction program in the nanites, causing the combustion. At zero-six-hundred tomorrow, they hit the switch again.”

  “Nana-what now?”

  “Nanites. Microscopic robots.”

  “Oh no, uh-uh. You telling me that I have tiny robots inside of me like some twisted sci-fi shit?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “And you all knew about it?” Jacqui arched one eyebrow, looking at each of them in turn.

  “Not until recently.”

  “What about the government? Don’t we have the National Guard for situations like this?” Jacqui said.

  “Have you seen them?”

  “I’ve seen them. Telling everyone to report to the camps they’ve set up. Come get your food and medicine.”

  “We believe they’re imposters. Put there by OPIS.”

  “I heard the new president on the radio telling everyone to stay calm and follow FEMA and the military’s instructions. But I’ve never seen our military wear black. And I never trust the government anyhow.”

  “That instinct is why you’re still alive,” Lisa said.

  “Who are you guys anyway? CIA?”

  “No. Reid and I are US Army out of MacLeod.”

  “So how do I know you don’t work for this OPIS?”

  “Because General Munroe sent us out to destroy the towers. He’s on our side.”

  “OPIS. Shit. What is it with rich folks? Do they have so much money they look at ways to mess with people instead? Nothing else to worry about. If you ask me, we need to go back to the hunter-gatherer days. Shit was simple then. Get up, get some food. Eat food. Sleep. Repeat.”

  “I can’t ask you to put yourself in danger,” Lisa said. “You should know that what we’re doing, those soldiers dressed in black are more than likely going to try to kill us.”

  “Girl. You ain’t never spent a day in my neighborhood, have you?” Jacqui grinned. “I’m coming.”