The Alex Cave Series. Books 1, 2, & 3.: Box set

by James M. Corkill

  “No, we don’t have any idea what happened. Listen, Mr. Cave. I need to get in touch with the pilot’s next of kin, and I . . .”

  “You must have been tracking them on radar, damn it! Where the hell are they?” Alex heard a heavy sigh through the phone.

  “Look, Mr. Cave. All we know is they were about eighty miles over the Idaho border when they dropped off the radar screen. Now, if you’d give me the number . . .”

  “Have you sent out a search team yet?”

  “Damn it, Mr. Cave! There isn’t anything we can do right now. Haven’t you heard there’s a national crisis going on?”

  “I know, but this is very important!”

  “They all are. Now if you’d just give me . . .”

  “No, you don’t understand, damn it! That plane was carrying important information, critical to the situation going on right now!”

  “Thanks for the help!” Fisher said sarcastically and hung up.

  Alex heard a click on the other end and slammed the phone down. “Damn!” He looked up at David, who was staring back with a worried look. “They went down about eighty miles over the border. See if you can find a map.”

  David nodded and began searching the room. He looked back and saw the muscles at the back of Alex’s jaw flexing in anger and frustration. He’d never seen Alex like this, and the cold, determined look in Alex’s eyes scared him a little. He found a world atlas and set it on the desk. “This might work,” he said nervously.

  Alex looked up and saw the trace of fear in David’s eyes, and he relaxed a little. “It’s all so damn frustrating,” he told him. “We have no transportation, no food, and no weapons. How the hell are we supposed to find the women?” Alex watched David grin and wondered what was so amusing.

  “We do have food, and we do have weapons,” David told him.

  Alex stared at him skeptically, and David continued. “I, ah, I’ve never told anyone, but I’ve been stashing supplies in some caves I’ve found. You see, I’ve always had this idea I should be prepared for a disaster, but I thought everyone would think of me as being paranoid, so I never told anyone.”

  Alex’s frown spread into a grin. “David, my boy, you’re all right.” Alex opened the atlas. “Okay. Show me where these caves are.”

  David pointed at the map. “There are seven of them, starting here, about five miles out of town, to the west, and ending here, just west of the Idaho border.”

  “Good. They’re all in the direction we need to go. Are there any weapons in this first one?”

  “Yes, as well as food. There’s a sleeping bag, water, and lots of other things I’d need to survive.”

  “Great. Let’s get going. We might be able to get to the first cave before dark.” Alex ripped the pages for Idaho and Montana out of the atlas, and both men walked to the door.

  * * *

  Chapter 24

  BOZEMAN, MONTANA:

  After leaving the university, Alex and David walked down the main street of town. The city of Bozeman seemed deserted. The few people they passed stared at them suspiciously, some dashing inside buildings as they approached, and the few vehicles along the streets had been stripped. The shattered windows and bullet-riddled walls of the buildings gave evidence of the mass hysteria, which seemed to be spreading quickly. On the horizon, above the buildings, uncontrolled fires cast thick black smoke high into the air. They walked past a bicycle shop, and through the missing front window, they saw three bodies on the floor, among the empty stands and racks. A police car had crashed into a light pole and the bloodied torso of the officer was still hanging limply out of the door.

  Alex felt a deep sense of despair. People were living in a state of panic and fear, in a society where the only rule was the law of survival. They continued through the main street of town, passing more shattered windows, burning vehicles, and occasionally, a body.

  A dozen young boys stepped out of a tavern advertising six pool tables and stood on the sidewalk. The boys acted nonchalant, but Alex noticed the insolent looks in their eyes. “Let’s cross the street,” he whispered to David.

  As they stepped off the curb, four of the youths left the group and walked on an intercept course, Alex knew they were due for a confrontation. He stopped and waited for the youths to approach, deciding to let the four of them move as far away from their friends as possible.

  The boys stopped a few feet away, their movements bold and assured. “We want your money, man,” the oldest and bravest demanded.

  None of them could have been over eighteen, Alex decided. The one doing the talking seemed pretty sure of himself. The others were putting on a good front, but from long experience, Alex sensed a slight trace of fear in their eyes.

  They seemed satisfied to let the older boy do the talking, so Alex stared at him. “You have enough problems,” he said in a stern voice as he looked the brazen youth in the eyes. “You don’t want a problem with me.”

  The boy hesitated. His other victims had given them what they wanted, but this man seemed too eager to fight. “You think you can take us, man?”

  Alex shifted his gaze to each of the boys, coldly looking each in the eye, reading a slight trace of trepidation as each of them looked away. A visual picture of the Russian Mafia’s men he had desecrated in Holland flashed through his mind. Of course, he could take them, but what would be the sense of killing these young boys? He had killed the Mafia men in a fit of savage revenge, but these boys were just scared and trying to survive in a world gone mad. He focused on the apparent leader. “What’s your name?”

  “William . . . Hey, man. I’ll ask the questions!”

  “You’re too late, William. Someone already beat you to our money. If you want a fight, I’ll give you one, but I suggest you just let us go on our way.”

  William wasn’t used to being confronted, and this man seemed terribly sure of himself. He didn’t want to lose face in front of his peers, but didn’t really want to fight this man either. “If you ain’t got no money, you can go, but you’d better not come back!” he said as ominously as he could. “This is our turf, you got that, man?”

  Alex knew the dilemma William was in, and decided to help him out of the situation. “Yes, I’ve got it. We’ll stay off your turf.” William pumped out his chest, turned, and led his friends back across the street.

  Alex and David continued down the street at a brisk pace and reached the outskirts of town without further incident. At the last telephone booth, Alex tried to call Martin, without success. They walked up the on ramp and along the highway. The road was littered with abandoned cars, trucks, suitcases, and other personal belongings left behind by people too tired to carry more than the bare necessities.

  Alex estimated they had walked about six miles before David stopped and pointed at a mountain range across a wide green valley.

  “That’s where we need to go,” David told him. “The third peak from the right. I’ve always driven to the base of the mountains, but the road to get there is another five miles. Since we’re on foot, there’s no reason why we can’t cut across right here.”

  Alex nodded his assent and they ducked through a barbed wire fence and began their trek across the valley until they reached the dirt road at the foot of the mountain range. “We’ll follow this road up a little farther,” David told him. “Then we leave it at the stream.”

  Alex and David turned to look at the city one more time, and saw several large columns of thick black smoke curling into the air above Bozeman.

  “Damn!” David mumbled. “It looks like the city is on fire. We’d better get going,” David told Alex. “It’s still quite a long way to the cave.”

  They continued up the road, occasionally glancing back down at the city as they gained altitude. They stopped at the stream, drank ravenously, and took one more look at the smoke before entering the thick forest. From their vantage point, it appeared the entire city was ablaze, and soon the heavy black smoke obscured their view as the wind caused it to
drift across the valley below.

  David led them off the road and stopped. “This is it. I call it Cave Number Three.”

  Alex looked around, but didn’t see a cave. “Where is it?”

  David grinned, ducked between two large bushes, and disappeared. Alex ducked through the bushes and saw a small opening between three stacked boulders. He dropped down on his hands and knees and crawled through, emerging into a dark chamber. The only sound was a quiet metallic clicking. A moment later, the clicking ceased and a flame flared to life, illuminating David’s face and the Coleman lantern on the floor in front of him. The lantern hissed for a second as David opened the valve, then flared into brilliant white light as he lit the mantels. David stood and set the lantern on a narrow rock shelf, stepped back, and spread his arms. “So what do you think?” he asked proudly.

  The chamber was about thirty-feet wide by about twenty-feet deep and about ten-feet high. “I’m impressed,” Alex said sincerely.

  “I’ll make us something to eat, and then we should get some sleep. We should get an early start tomorrow morning. It’s a full day’s hike to the next cave.”

  Alex nodded and let David take over. A small grin spread across his face with the realization that David was tougher than he thought.

  * * *

  Chapter 25

  IDAHO:

  As Christa and Judy watched, the soldiers pulled Marcia from the plane and laid her on the ground, and then one of the men climbed inside. “She’s the only one in here, Major,” the man shouted from the doorway.

  “Get out of the way!” a different voice shouted.

  The soldiers stepped away from Marcia, and a short, gray-haired man with a white armband knelt beside her. “She’ll be all right. Looks like a mild concussion. You two carry her to the infirmary. And be careful with her!”

  Major Everex looked down at the woman. “You’d better add two more men, doc. She’s a big bitch.” The doctor nodded, and Everex looked at his other men. “Search the area. There’s too much luggage here just for her.”

  Christa and Judy exchanged looks. “Can you walk okay?” Christa asked.

  “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

  They crawled for a few yards until the trees hid them, then they stood and walked in the opposite direction of the soldiers. Several hundred yards farther, Judy stopped.

  “Wait a minute. This is crazy. We don’t even know where we’re going.”

  “You’re saying we should go with the soldiers?”

  Judy shrugged. “Why not? The worst that could happen is they give us food and water, and a place to sleep.”

  Christa shook her head. “That man said he wanted prisoners. It doesn’t sound very inviting.”

  “What else are we going to do? Face it. We’re lost.”

  Christa looked around and sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Judy started walking back the way they came, and Christa followed. When they reached the clearing and the wrecked plane, the soldiers were gone.

  Christa climbed back into the plane and looked around. Their luggage was gone, but she remembered losing her grip on her purse when they crashed, and remembered the computer disks inside. Oh no! she thought and frantically searched the cabin. She sighed with relief when she found it wedged between the wall and the seat in front of where she’d been sitting. She wiggled it loose, and jumped out of the plane.

  It took them a few minutes to find the trail, but soon enough, they started following in the direction the soldiers had taken.

  *

  Marcia opened her eyes and stared up at a log ceiling. She turned her head to the right and saw three empty beds, and when she turned to the left, she saw a young boy sitting in a chair against the wall, engrossed in a paperback book. “Who are you?” she asked.

  The boy looked up at her. “She’s come too, Doc,” he hollered.

  Marcia sat up and looked around. She was in a log cabin, she realized, and noticed some medical equipment on a shelf above the boy. The door next to him opened, and a gray haired man walked in. He was wearing a uniform, and a stethoscope hung from his neck.

  “Hello, Miss Story. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine, I think. Where am I?”

  “At the moment, you’re in my infirmary. Do you remember what happened?”

  It took her a moment, but everything came back to her. She nodded. “The plane wreck.”

  The doctor smiled. “That’s right. You were unconscious when we got there, with a mild concussion.”

  Marcia glanced around nervously. “What about . . .?”

  “Go get Miss Story some cold water, Private Woolly,” the doctor interrupted.

  The boy left the room.

  “Major Everex searched the area, but luckily, didn’t find your friend. She must be all right.”

  “There were two women with me. And what do you mean by luckily?”

  The doctor frowned. “Things have changed around here since Major Everex was promoted. It’s not a good place for you or your friends.”

  Marcia nodded toward the patch on his uniform. “What does AOS stand for?”

  “Army of Survival. Listen, Miss Story. The Major thinks you only had one friend, and he is sending out another search party to find her. Make up some story she wasn’t with you, or something.”

  Marcia caught his drift and nodded. “What about me?”

  “Colonel Blackwood and the Major will question you in a little while. After that, I don’t know.”

  The boy returned with a pitcher of water and a glass, and poured some for Marcia. “The Colonel stopped me, doc. He said to bring her to his cabin as soon as possible.”

  “I can delay this for a little while, if you want?” the doctor told her.

  “No. I don’t want to lie here and worry about it. I’d rather get it over with.”

  “Your bags are under the bed, and there’s a bathroom in the next room, if you’d like to freshen up first.”

  Marcia looked down, realized she was wearing a white hospital gown, and smiled. “Thanks.” She swung her legs over the edge and stood, and the boy dragged her suitcase out and set it on the bed. “How did you know my name?” She asked.

  The doctor stepped through the doorway and returned with her purse. “I looked at your driver’s license and faculty ID,” he said as he handed it to her.

  Marcia dug through her suitcase and grabbed what she needed, picked up her purse, and walked into the bathroom. In the mirror, she saw her hair was a mess and her mascara smeared. She dressed and did what she could to her hair, and once satisfied with her makeup, left the bathroom and found the doctor was sitting at his desk. “Guess I’m as ready as I can be.”

  The doctor looked up and smiled. “Much better.” His smile slipped away. “Mark? Take Miss Story to see the Colonel.”

  Marcia saw the sad look in the doctor’s eye, and wondered what was going to be so terrible. Whatever it was, she had no choice. She straightened her shoulders and smiled at the doctor. “Thanks for the help. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

  The doctor forced a smile and watched her follow Mark through the door. His smile vanished. “I hope so,” he mumbled.

  “Where are you from, Mark?” Marcia asked in her friendliest manner. She figured the more friends she made in this place, the more she might learn about where she was and what it was all about.

  “Seattle, Washington, ma’am.”

  “That’s a long way from here.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What made you come all the way up here?”

  “I’ve always wanted to be in the army, and when things got crazy, my family and I came here with Mr. Monroe.”

  “You came with your parents?”

  “Yes ma’am, and my sister.”

  “So what do they do here?”

  “Train, mostly. You see, if there’s a war or something, we can fight the enemy. Major Everex has stolen enough supplies to last . . .”

  “That’
s enough, Private!” someone yelled harshly.

  Marcia looked up at the porch and saw a tall man staring down at her, a black patch over his left eye.

  “Yes, sir,” Mark replied. “This is the woman from the plane wreck, Colonel.”

  “That will be all, Private,” said Blackwood. Mark nodded and left without looking at Marcia, who continued to look up at the man on the porch.

  Blackwood studied Marcia and found her quite attractive, even with the small bandage visible under her hair. He had seldom met a woman who was as tall as he was, and found it stimulating. His demeanor changed and he smiled graciously. “Please come up on the porch and have a seat, Miss Story.”

  Marcia thought Blackwood ruggedly handsome, standing tall and confident in his uniform. Even the black patch over the eye seemed to add to his rugged good looks. She suddenly felt embarrassed, she must look awful with a bandage stuck to her head, and unconsciously reached up and patted her hair.

  Marcia walked up the steps, grabbing the handrail in an exaggerated manner, as if she might pass out, hoping to evoke some sympathy. It worked better than she had hoped, and Blackwood quickly descended and took her arm to help.

  “Thank you, Colonel,” she said and smiled ingratiatingly. “I’m very sorry about the inconvenience. Your medical staff is very proficient, and I’m immensely in your debt.”

  Blackwood smiled and helped Marcia into a wicker chair. “Think nothing of it. I’m just glad you weren’t seriously injured. You could have been killed.” Marcia smiled and nodded. Blackwood suddenly laughed jovially. “And I could have been killed, too. Your plane nearly took the roof off my cabin.”

  Marcia brought her hand up to her mouth in mock astonishment. “Oh my goodness!” I’m so sorry. I had no idea!”

  Blackwood smiled and nodded. “Yes, well, let’s just thank our lucky stars. Don’t think anything more about it. You must be thirsty. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Oh, that would be most kind of you,” Marcia told him.