by Logan Keys
“Whoa whoa!”
Brittany opened her eyes to see the gang member from before, the one that had smiled at her. He was standing near Rick. “Is that any way to treat a lady?”
He moved in front of the gun without fear and helped Brittany to her feet. Behind his back, she wiped her hands off on her jeans. He held his hands up at Rick, and all-around them were more members who had guns as well.
Rick hesitated. “Back off,” he warned.
The guy lifted his shirt to show his gun as well. “You don’t want to do that, man. If I don’t take you, my crew here will.”
He nodded when Rick lowered his weapon. “You wanted to know where Spider is, right?”
“Yeah,” Rick said.
“Then leave her with us and I’ll tell you.”
“Yeah right. He might be dead. I’ll take my chances.”
“You’ll never find him,” the guy said. “Not without my help. You haven’t been home in a long time, man. You don’t even know where we meet up anymore.”
Rick walked around the guy and grabbed Brittany’s arm, pulling her away. “I don’t want trouble, but if you follow us, you’ll get some.”
The guy laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Rick asked.
“That’s what they call me. Double trouble.”
“Cute.”
The guy scratched his nose then waved at his friends. “All right. Let them go. They’ll be back. Where you gonna go?”
Rick pushed Brittany forward, back up the block. Rick pulled her close when they neared the end. “Don’t do anything stupid.” She almost rolled her eyes, but then she saw what he was looking at.
Jeeps, Humvees, and trucks were all coming down the street. Soldiers were piling out. If she could get their attention, the military might help her. One shout was all she needed. But Rick was on it, and he forced the gun into her back as he stayed close to hide it. He moved her in another direction, the long way around to where they’d parked the SUV.
Brittany’s heart sank as they came out of a side street and were already at the car. The soldiers on this street were too far away to help her. Rick forced her inside and got into the driver seat. He quickly pulled a U-turn and started driving away from the city. “I know another way around,” Rick said with a grin.
“If we find your friend, then what?” Brittany asked. “Why don’t you just let me go?”
“Women,” he said, shaking his head.
She glanced backwards with longing. She’d been this close to getting help from the military. It made her think of Colton.
Chapter Eight
Just Outside of Chicago
“Looks like the Cavalry has arrived,” Rufus said leaning forward in his seat to watch the trucks pass by. He’d pulled over on the side of the road after some of the Humvees had flagged them down. They’d both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of some sort of operation in effect. All of the world hadn’t changed. Not completely, yet.
“This your first time to Chicago?” Rufus asked while they waited.
“Yeah. Do you have family here?” Colton was eager to get there and look for Brittany, even if it was a shot in the dark that she’d even be there, he had to see for himself. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t try.
“I do,” Rufus replied, seeming to notice his distraction. “My daughter and her family live here.”
The silence spread as Rufus was able to drive onward. He sat quietly in thought, most likely preparing, as Colton was, to face whatever outcome. Rex made a whining sound. “He need to go to the bathroom?”
“I’m not sure,” Colton said and then he stifled a gasp. “Look!” He pointed ahead where the horizon was on fire. It almost looked like the sun was coming up, but it wasn’t; it was the city.
Colton glanced at Rufus who stared at the orange coloring with disbelief. He’d expected it to be bad, the same as Colton had, but this…it wasn’t just that it was apocalyptic, it was also a sign of things to come. Things wouldn’t get better, Colton thought. Things would get much worse.
Rufus swallowed and stared straight ahead with a determined expression. He didn’t want to accept it any more than Colton did. Chicago was a prime example of the truth: There was no returning to where they’d been before. The military wasn’t going to be able to do much other than show up.
“I’m sure they’re fine,” Colton said quietly, meaning everyone. Brittany and Rufus’s daughter and her family. They had to be fine.
**
Rufus pulled as close as he could to the city, but the military had the roads blocked. Colton decided to be honest with the man. “If you try to go through a checkpoint, let me out. I’m not ready for active duty. Not yet.”
Rufus nodded. “Find your friend first?”
“Yes,” Colton said. “My brother’s waiting for me to come back too. I can’t join back up with them just yet.”
“There’re no ways through here. We’ll have to walk.” Rufus turned back from the city and found a place to park on the highway. He was wise enough to pull his truck far off the road, a place that was on the outskirts and semi-hidden.
They locked it up tight, and Colton got his weapon and slung it over his back. “How far is it?” he asked.
“My daughter lives in the middle of the city, but when all hell broke loose she promised me they’d meet at the old school she used to teach at. It’s not far. A few miles at most. They offered everyone shelter in the gymnasium and I’m hoping to find them all waiting for me there.”
Colton nodded. “I’ll walk with you there first then.”
“Where do you want to look for your friend?”
“I have no idea. But once you find your daughter, I’ll go on to the city. Alone. C’mon, Rex.”
Rufus and Colton walked through a neighborhood that was covered in deep snow. They knew people were inside, hiding from the cold, and probably from everyone pouring out of the city who needed help. Not all of them would be the good types. It took a long time to go even a few miles in the snow, and Colton missed the warmth of the truck. Rex ran around sniffing like crazy as if trying to find something. Colton felt bad; he was obviously looking for Brittany. The dog almost looked disappointed in himself for not finding her scent.
“It’s okay, boy,” Colton assured him, “we’ll find her.”
They saw the school from a way off because it was the only thing lit up. There was a line of people outside of the gymnasium waiting to get in, and military personnel stood at the door.
“They have power,” Rufus said with relief.
As they approached, Colton kept his head down. Rufus turned to him and said, “I’ll go inside and see if she’s here. I might be heading to the city with you if she’s not.”
Colton put a hand on his shoulder sensing his fear. “She’s here. Stay positive.” He didn’t know if that was more for himself or for Rufus. Rufus nodded his thanks.
They were making people sign in and show identification at the door. Rufus showed them his wallet and seemed to be asking questions. The soldiers checked the list and then pointed something out to Rufus, who bent over for a moment, overcome by some great emotion.
Colton rushed to his side thinking the worst, but when he got close, Rufus stood back up and was smiling. “She’s here,” he said. “She’s on the roster.”
“Identification.” The soldier was speaking to Colton.
“I’m uh… I’m just leaving.”
A military policeman came over. “Doesn’t matter. You have a weapon. We have orders to check for proof of weapon’s licensing too.”
“Who carries that around? In this?” Colton started backing away. He’d stolen the gun but wasn’t even worried about that part. They’d know he was supposed to be with his unit. He was days past AWOL now.
“I’m gonna have to see your identification, son.”
When Colton kept walking, the guy pulled his gun from his holster. “Stop!”
Colton did, and people screamed
and ducked their heads expecting a shootout. It was times like these that “gun shy” made sense.
“Better do what he says, Colton,” Rufus said with an apologetic expression.
“Check him,” the MP told the soldier at the door.
The private came over and took the Mossberg and started frisking Colton until he found his wallet in his pants pocket. He gave the wallet to the MP who laughed. “Well, well, Private. You’re a long way from home.”
The MP came behind Colton and pulled his hands behind his back.
“I was just trying to help my friends,” Colton said.
“The army is the only friend you need. Take him and put him on the truck. Hold him until we figure out what we’re doing with AWOL.”
The other private whose name tag said Safford, seemed reluctant but said, “Yes, sir.”
“Hold on now. There’s no need to arrest him.” Rufus tried to intervene, but they shoved him back. “You get your hands off of me. I was doing your job while you were still in diapers, boy.”
Colton couldn’t stand to see Rufus go down with him. “Go be with your daughter,” he said.
“I’ll get you out of this, Colton. Who’s running this operation? I need to speak with a superior officer right now,” Rufus demanded.
Colton didn’t get to hear the rest of the exchange as Safford was already taking him to one of the trucks. He helped Colton up since his hands were cuffed and sat him down.
“Hey, man,” Safford said. “I get it. Thought about doing it myself. I got kids, you know? This is crazy. And what are we going to do? Arrest all of Chicago? Anyway… You hungry? I got some MREs in there.”
Colton shook his head. “Nah,” he said, feeling like he’d failed Brittany and Bart and even his own family in every way.
Then Colton remembered. “Rex!” he shouted. “My dog’s out there. Can you call him?”
Safford glanced around outside the truck. “I don’t see him.”
Colton whistled and shortly afterwards, Rex came bounding out of the snow and planted his front feet on the back of the truck. When he saw Safford though, he backed off, wary of strangers after his run-in with Rick.
“We can’t leave him,” Colton said. “Please.”
Safford nodded and got down out of the truck. He went over to the MP and brought him back. “Sir, what do we do with the dog?”
The MP glanced over at Rex and shrugged. “Do I look like the humane society, Private? Get rid of him.”
Colton shouted. “He’s a working dog! Do you have a unit here? Ask them. Please. Don’t just leave him.”
The MP thought for a moment, then called another soldier over. “See if they have anyone here with dogs.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eventually, a Jeep pulled up and Colton could see they had dog kennels in the back marked with ‘Beware’ signs. “Lucky you,” the Sergeant who exited the Jeep said. “I have an extra kennel. But I can’t promise they’ll keep him once we get wherever we’re going.” He noticed Colton’s worried expression. “I’ll take care of him as best I can, okay?”
“Thank you,” Colton said. “Hey, boy. Go with this guy, okay?” he said, fighting tears…over a dog.
Colton blinked and glanced away as they loaded Rex up. He looked frightened until he saw the other dog. Then his tail wagged. As they drove away, Colton slumped back against his seat with sadness, his fear for Brittany outweighing everything else.
Chapter Nine
Wellington, New Zealand
With a bed to sleep in and the wafting smells of a home cooked meal, Luckman woke thinking he was in heaven. He’d dreamed of a cold hell, however. The chill of yesterday would never leave his mind. Images of frozen families in their homes just across the channel jarred him to a more realistic wakefulness. He sat up and cringed at the pulled muscles; he counted five at least.
Outside of his room, he heard the women talking cheerfully, some laughs from Greg, and then finally the deeper voice of German in answer. He was no doubt telling his stories, which were humorous to be sure. Luckman slid off the bed reluctantly, wishing to stay horizontal for at least another week, but his stomach growled in protest. In the dark hallway he didn’t miss the fact that despite it being clearly day outside, the sun’s rays were muted and no longer reaching this part of the house. He had to go through the living area before he could meet everyone in the kitchen, but instead of continuing, he paused at the window.
Greg’s house was high above the city that was pressed up against the harbor, and he had a clear view of the now tumultuous ocean that had climbed over the docks to splash mercilessly onto the streets.
“That’s not so odd,” Greg assured him as he came into the room. The Expat bachelor was red-eyed and looked severely hung over, but he handed Luckman a beer and had one already for himself. The thought of drinking a beer first thing made Luckman’s empty stomach turn. They stood side-by-side watching the eerie overcast with frowns despite Greg’s comment. It wouldn’t have been “eerie” to Luckman before as there was nothing particularly ominous about a day with some rain. But he knew better now.
“You guys ready to eat?” Danielle walked in and smiled. “Turkey’s done soon.”
Luckman blinked. “How long have I been out?”
“All day. Holtz is still asleep. German told us what you guys have been through, so we let you be.” She gave him sad eyes and gently touched his shoulder.
Luckman’s mind was a collection of graphic destruction and gore. He nicely shrugged Danielle off, and inwardly shuddered. Strangely, the first thing to root his thoughts was a vision of his wedding day. His ex-wife had looked gorgeous in her white dress, and it had been a beautiful mellow, sunny afternoon on her parent’s farm in Kentucky. Two worlds had collided in that moment. The country girl versus him and his city life just when his first expedition was soon to begin. Her salt of the earth family who would never leave the slow life. But she had, for him. And they’d been able to deal with long distance marital issues for some time. That is, until it felt like two strangers trying to make it work. She grew to hate the city and their home on Staten Island. He’d always hoped the urban life would grow on her, but it never had. She’d moved back home a few times and finally that stuck. Luckman had moved on after a time it had seemed, but had he? Or had he merely stuck his head deep into work—the proverbial sand.
“Dinner smells fabulous!” Holtz said, making Luckman, Danielle and Greg jump.
Greg laughed and took Holtz into the kitchen while Danielle gazed at Luckman in a once over until he too moved into the kitchen. He cast a backwards glance at the wild ocean and dark weather but didn’t think much of it anymore. Not with the distraction of food spread out before them.
German was busy making some Russian dish and he said, “Lucky, come try this. Pirozhki.” Luckman hummed after a bite of the meat-filled bread. “Good stuff. They got you in here cooking?”
“They found me vodka.” German pointed at the bottle and Luckman laughed.
Holtz watched German with a strange tension. He had red eyes like Greg, but he seemed almost to be still drunk. He walked over and snatched the bottle off the table.
“I think I’ll have some of your vodka,” he said with a bad Russian accent.
German smiled to himself still working on his dish, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile. “If you can handle it,” he muttered.
“Oh. If you can, I can.” Holtz poured himself a small glass and chugged it down while watching Luckman and German over the rim.
“Turkey time!” Danielle called, trying to break up the awkwardness of Holtz’s sudden change of mood. Luckman helped them carry dishes to the table, carefully ignoring Holtz who had poured another glass and was standing at the counter looking rather pale.
Everyone sat at the table except Holtz. Terry decided they needed to say a prayer. Luckman wasn’t averse to that; he didn’t have the stomach to judge anyone for asking for divine intervention as the killing cold nipped his heels with eerie precision.
He was actually thinking of sending up his own few words silently himself. A prayer that he would be on time to reach the states, to help stop what was coming couldn’t hurt.
Luckman was so busy in his thoughts he didn’t realize they’d finished the prayer and were staring at him. “Did you want to do the honors?” Greg asked, offering him cutlery to cut the turkey.
Luckman took the knife and Holtz snorted as he started at the top. “From the side. You start from the side,” Holtz said. “Moron,” he muttered, and Luckman focused overly hard on his task, frowning over the comment. He tried to brush it off, but Holtz poured himself another drink and by the time they’d all dished out their favorites and were starting to dig in, Holtz was leaning heavily on the table.
“This turkey is delicious, Ladies…and Greg,” German said overloud with a wink. He was trying to smooth over the tension but only provided Holtz with a new target.
Holtz once again adopted a terrible Russian accent. “In Russia we don’t have Thanksgiving. We bear hunt naked in the snow.”
German smiled, ignoring Holtz’s jokes and eating his food.
Greg got up and went over to his friend, before placing a hand on his shoulder. “They’ve been cooking all day. I’ve been cooking all day. Why not come and eat some? Huh, Buddy.”
Holtz nodded and shrugged Greg off as he finally came and sat at the table. But he still gripped the bottle tight. It was then that Luckman noticed Holtz’s hands were unsteady and his bloodshot eyes were glassy and confused. He was coming undone. After all they’d been through, he was having a delayed breakdown. PTSD.
Silence descended on the group other than their forks and knives touching the dishes until Holtz pointed at German. “I bet Russia is gone already. You think about that? I bet it’s like that other side of the island. Those poor—hey Luckman, you remember—people all frozen in place like a giant wax museum.”
German’s expression changed, and Greg tried to stop Holtz from continuing to dig himself deeper into his hole. “Hey, man, ease off on the booze, all right?”
