by D W McAliley
Alex paddled to the mouth of an inlet and turned in to follow it. The main trunk split to the left with a small tributary to the right, and Alex followed the off shoot. After a while it began to narrow until what had been a small cove widened into the mouth of a stream that emptied into the lake. Alex headed for the north side of the creek, and soon the outline of an overgrown pier and boat ramp materialized out of the gloom. The wind, which had been blowing constantly in their faces, suddenly stopped. Mike felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as his ears picked up a sound behind them like tiny pea-gravel being poured slowly over sheet metal.
The wind brushed lightly at Mike's back as they paddled up the sloping, cracked concrete of the abandoned ramp. The air temperature had dropped a good six or seven degrees in just a few minutes. The sweat Mike had worked up paddling out on the lake now felt almost clammy against his skin.
Before the bow of the inflatable canoe even touched the concrete, Mike was already out pulling on it, splashing through water that was deeper than it looked. He could walk, but with water up well above his knees, it wasn't a quiet thing to do. Still, the lightning flashes had grown even more intense, and thunder was now rolling with each strike. Two strikes hit nearby, almost on top of each other, in blinding flashes, and the thunder that followed was loud enough to make their ears hurt. It was too close for Mike.
Alex was out and pulling his kayak up the ramp, too. He trotted up the narrow clay beach and tossed the lightweight vessel onto the thin verge of grass before the underbrush started. He turned and helped Mike pull the canoe the rest of the way up the ramp with Alyssa paddling for all she was worth to help. Alyssa sprang out of the bow once the small boat had beached far enough to keep her feet out of the water. She resolutely shouldered both her pack and Mike's as the two men wrestled with the unwieldy canoe in the growing gusts of wind.
They pushed their way carefully through the dense underbrush until they broke through into a thin strip of what looked like old growth pine forest. Alex stopped for a moment to catch his breath. "You said you're from around here, right?" he asked.
Mike gave a slight shrug. "You could say that," he replied, "but it's more like I've driven through this area so many times I know it pretty well."
"So if I told you that Highway 160 is less than a mile that way," Alex pointed a little north of east, "you'd pretty much know what that means?"
Mike nodded. "Yeah, I know that road pretty well. I've driven it a lot over the years."
"Good," Alex said, and he shouldered his kayak. "Then I'm going my own way from here. There are a couple of people I need to check up on, and the guys back at the center want to know where all the police are, so I'm going to look for some."
"No police?" Mike asked, confused. "Those Federal Security Service guys are all over the place."
Alex shook his head. "I'm not talking about those guys, whoever they are. I'm talking FBI, Charlotte PD, North Carolina State Troopers, anyone except the FSS. Did you ever hear of them before this whole thing went down?"
Mike started to answer, but thought about it a moment. He frowned as he came to the realization that he hadn’t heard of them at all before the blackout.
"My point exactly," Alex said when neither Mike nor Alyssa could name another time they'd seen or even heard of the new security group. "They just materialized. Any other disaster and you've got a dozen different agencies all working on that one thing. This is the biggest disaster or catastrophe to hit our nation ever, and there's one group of guys on top of it? That just doesn't seem right."
Mike shook his head. "I can't say you're wrong. The ones we had a run-in with weren't very pleasant, and something just didn't feel right about them. That's why we left when we did."
Alex shook Mike's hand and then Alyssa's. "I hope you find your sister, ma'am," he said to Alyssa. "If people have family left, that's who they should be with."
Alyssa started to say something but suddenly had to choke back tears. "Thank you," she finally managed.
"If you guys get in a bad spot, you can always come back to the center," Alex said. "You seem like good people, and we need to stick together."
Before anyone could respond, lightning split the sky and the thunder rattled Mike’s chest. By the time he and Alyssa looked down, Alex had disappeared into the fierce night, and for a moment neither Mike nor Alyssa knew what to say. They tied the canoe to a tree, and Mike set some tree branches in the bottom to weigh it down. He tested the rope and hoped the knot was tight enough to hold fast through the storm.
Alyssa looked at Mike, her eyes hard and determined. "I'm not going to stop for the storm. If you want to, you're welcome to, but I can't when we're this close."
Mike smiled and took his pack from Alyssa. "Never thought that you would. I'll get us there, you just have to keep up."
"Keep up?" Alyssa gasped, her eyes going wide. Before she could snap a response back, though, Mike was already moving through the trees, his rifle in his hands. The thunder and lightning marched closer, and the steady wind picked up its force and began gusting even stronger. Alyssa stomped through the towering pine trees as the first fat drops of ran splattered against her left cheek.
She hoped they didn't have far to walk. Before too much longer the storm would be on top of them.
Ch.31
Something Local
Commander Price sat behind his desk, his right hand in a fist on his desktop and his left hand covering his face. He'd been silent since they left the lower basement security cells. Finally, he heaved a heavy sigh and looked across at Marcus. "I thought we had more time. I didn't want to believe it in the first place, and then when I couldn't deny it, I thought we'd have more time before they struck."
"Who?" Marcus asked. "Time before who struck?"
Commander Price ran a hand through his hair and slipped a bracelet from his left wrist. Three keys hung from the ring that was securely tethered to a loop of heavy braided paracord. With the middle key he unlocked the bottom right drawer and pulled out a stack of papers that had some hand written notes across both sides. It was a carefully crafted list of officials who had both access and clearance to pull the switch that had started the download of information to the secured backup centers like the one they were in. He handed the papers over to the Lieutenant Commander.
"This wasn't in the briefing you read," Commander Price said, "because I didn't really know at the time if I could trust you."
"And now you do?" Marcus asked, a little insulted.
"And now I have no choice," Commander Price said truthfully. "I thought I was safe within these walls, surrounded by the people I had handpicked and by the former soldiers who we were able to evacuate before the event and the few that were gathered shortly afterward. I thought I had gotten out ahead of this whole twisted thing and that maybe my organization was clean from its influence. The note about my daughter showing up proves how wrong I've been. The enemy is here. The only man that knew about the adoption before that paper showed up on my desk was the man I told and the man I sent you to see, Captain Tillman. We were friends then, and he tried to talk me out of it, but couldn't. I don't think he ever forgave me for that. I can't say he was wrong, either, now that I look back at it. I would trade anything to have my daughter back now, to have that time back. But I did what was necessary to make sure that someone was in this position who could be trusted to do what was needed, not what was easy."
Commander Price was silent for a moment, a deep frown on his face and creasing his forehead. "I thought if she wasn't close to me, maybe she'd be safe. If only I'd known. And now I'm right where I feared I would one day be—decisions, too large to compromise, facing me one hand, and threats against her life on the other." He raised his eyes slowly. "And the enemy has reason to fear what we know."
"You figured it out," Marcus whispered."You know who it was that did it, who caused the blackout."
But Commander Price shook his head. "All I have is a theory, and I want to see if you arri
ve at the same conclusion. Really, I want you to convince me I'm wrong."
Marcus set the papers aside without looking at them for the moment. "Okay, sir, but we can't change any of your personal past. What we need to focus on now is how many people do we have in this center that are on the other side. Whoever that other side is, we've got to figure out who they are and get them out of here as soon as we can. I mean they've already proven that they're willing to kill in cold blood to protect themselves and stay hidden. That makes them a danger to everyone else here who might accidently stumble on their grand design. I get the impression this group will take no chances when it comes to being discovered."
The Commander pointed to the papers on his desk. "You're right about one thing, we need to figure out how many agents they have in here and who they are, but I don't plan on getting any of them out. Once I know who their spies are, I can use that against them. Sun Tzu taught that the best kind of spy is the one you have identified and who is unaware they have been discovered. You can use a spy like that to carry your own brand of false information back to the enemy."
Marcus made a sour face. "I don't like the idea of letting a known traitor just roam about freely," he said. "If someone were to get hurt or killed we'd be responsible."
The Commander's face was hard as a stone as he leaned back in his chair. "You'd better get this straight, Lieutenant Commander," he said after a moment. "What we're doing here is bigger than any one person's life. If we have to let this man operate so we can know he's getting the right disinformation back to our enemies, then that's what we do. And if we lose someone, I'll count it a cheap cost to possibly set our enemy up for failure. We're at war here, son, make no mistake about that fact. And it's a war for existence. Whoever pulled the switch here and made their move isn't planning on running for re-election in four years to keep his office, I can assure you of that."
"You'd let someone die, knowingly, just to protect your double agent?" Marcus asked in disbelief.
Commander Price nodded without a second's hesitation. "Lieutenant Commander, before this is over I imagine we'll both be doing much more than simply letting someone die in order to see this through. I'll make you a deal. If we survive, I promise I'll cooperate with whatever investigation someone wants to make of what we're doing here. If there's a price to be paid, I don't mind paying it, whatever it is."
"Why?" Marcus whispered.
The Commander pulled out a small folded piece of paper and looked at it for a long time. Then he handed it to Marcus. "Because even if she's not still alive, the odds are there's a good ten to fifteen percent of the population that will survive this whole ordeal. And they deserve the chance to keep the best parts of who they are while they rebuild. They deserve to stay free people, and if some tyrant takes over now, it will be generations before he's overthrown, if ever. Some things like that are worth more than just dying for."
"Do you have a plan?" Marcus asked when the silence between them stretched uncomfortably.
The Commander, deep in his thoughts, nodded slowly as he chewed on his thumbnail. "I do, but you won't like it. It's a risk, but it's one I think has to be taken."
Commander Price laid out his plan for Marcus. With the last step in place, Marcus took a deep breath and tried to ignore his queasiness. He sat thinking for a while before he shrugged and said with resignation, "You're right. I don't like it. It's wrong, and you could get someone innocent killed if you're wrong. But I honestly can't think of another way to draw out whoever's doing this, not anything that will work, anyway."
Somewhat relieved, Commander Price leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I think I'd been secretly hoping you would talk me out of it," he said softly. "I don't like the idea any more than you do, but we have to draw out the agent. Are you sure you can play your part?"
Marcus stood. "Don't worry about me, sir," he said, his face grim. "I'll do what has to be done. But I still don't like it."
Marcus didn't wait to be dismissed before leaving the room. He turned on his heel and strode out the door before Commander Price could say anything else.
Ch.32
No One Home
The rain hit suddenly, driven by the strong gusts of wind they heard coming through the trees. Mike stumbled as the wall of rain hit, and he tried to convince Alyssa that they needed to find some kind of shelter, but she stubbornly shook her head.
"I told you," Alyssa screamed over the din of the wind and rolling thunder all around them, "I'm not stopping. Not now. You can come with me or I can go on my own."
"You're crazy!" He yelled back, the wind and rain whipping around him as he stood in the middle of the road.
He turned, bowed his head against the sting of the wind-driven rain, and trudged down the empty highway. It was nearly pitch dark, but he could still make out some familiar landmarks. It took longer than it should have to cover the three quarters of a mile, but finally Mike turned off the main highway and into a small subdivision. Simple houses lined the streets. They were well made and managed to be close to each other without seeming crowded.
Mike clicked on his flashlight briefly to check the name of a street and then turned onto it. Four houses down, Mike stopped and pointed up the driveway. Alyssa looked at the numbers on the mailbox and threw her arms around Mike's neck. Over the noise of the wind, the rain, and the thunder Alyssa whispered, "Thank you," as she sobbed.
Before Mike could say anything, Alyssa broke away and sprinted up the lawn. She took the four steps up to the front porch two at a time, pounded on the door twice and then rushed inside.
Mike froze on the front porch, staring at the open door. The last thing he'd made sure to tell Maria before leaving the house was to lock it tight behind him and not to open it for any reason. Mike stepped inside, his flashlight on and one hand on his rifle. Alyssa was standing at the kitchen counter, and she turned slowly toward him, her face pale, and a sheet of paper in her hand.
"What is this?" she asked, her hands shaking. "You said she'd be here!"
Mike took the paper and read it as Alyssa sank to the floor, sobbing again. After Mike read the note, he crumpled it in his fist and threw it against the wall. The second night alone, Maria had heard gunshots and was too frightened to be alone. The next day four people turned up dead in the neighborhood, and the Federal Security Services came by recommending everyone head down to the refugee center in McDowell Park.
Mike knelt and took Alyssa's hands in his and squeezed them reassuringly. "Look, we know where she is, Alyssa. We'll find her tomorrow, okay? Once the sun comes up, we'll go over there and we'll find her."
Alyssa wiped her nose with a dish towel that Mike handed her and nodded slowly. "What about the things you said about the camps you've seen?" she asked, still looking down at her hands and the growing puddle of water dripping from them both. "You said they're not safe, that people starve and die of thirst, they get abused and hurt. What if something's happened to her?" By the end of her rant, tears streamed down her face to mix with the rainwater running from her hair.
Mike shook his head and pulled Alyssa to him in a warm hug. "You can't think like that," he whispered softly. "Yeah, I saw some bad things in the camps in Katrina, but that was only after the supplies had run out and things were falling apart everywhere. Right now, the camps are still secure, they've got supplies, and the guards are still there. It took a while for things to get really bad in the camps after Katrina; it will take a while here too."
Alyssa’s sobs slowed, and she barely nodded her head in response to Mike’s assurances. She said nothing for a long moment, leaving Mike to wonder if she was awake. He was thankful she didn't ask him how long it had taken for the supplies to run out and for things to really get bad. Most of the camps were out of water by the third day, and by the fifth day people in the city were shooting each other over bottled water. In the camps, people were dying of thirst, and there was nothing the guards could do about it. They tried their best to maintain order, but there just weren't
enough of them.
That memory jolted Mike back to the present moment, and he shuddered. He felt Alyssa shivering against his chest. "Come on," he said softly. "Let's see if there's anything dry you can wear. I left behind some clothes that I can change into. When you're dry and you've had something to eat, you'll feel better. We’ll get a good night's sleep and go look for your sister first thing tomorrow."
Alyssa didn't speak, but she let Mike lead her into the bedroom where he left her looking for dry clothes, while he went down the hall to change. He put on a pair of light-weight khaki pants and a loose, long-sleeved cotton T-shirt. The air outside had dropped a good twenty degrees, so he opened two of the windows in the living room to get some fresh air through the house. After a while, Alyssa came down the hall in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a long-sleeve t-shirt with a beach scene across the side and back. She sat on the couch next to Mike, but she still didn't speak.
Mike pulled some beef jerky from the pack at his feet and took out two bottles of water. He offered some of the beef jerky to Alyssa, but she shook her head. She took the water, though, and drained half of it in three large gulps. With a heavy sigh, she sat back on the couch and then slid over and leaned her head against Mike's shoulder. He hesitated, then put his arm around her shoulders, and she snuggled in closer to him. Neither of them spoke; they just listened to the sounds of the rain falling steadily outside and the occasional peal of thunder growing fainter and fainter with distance.
After a while, Alyssa's breathing became deep and regular as she relaxed. Mike put a pillow in his lap, gently lowered her head on it, and then covered her shoulders and legs with the blanket draped over the back of the couch. He sat for a long time like that, stroking her wet hair as she slept.
Sometime later, sleep overtook him as well.
