All three men were wore matching black jumpsuits that Rick didn’t recognize as being military except for the ranks on their collars, until he saw M.M. insignias above their right chest pockets.
The short, stupid-looking one, as Billy was thinking, surprisingly did all the talking. He wanted to know where they were from and where they were going. He wanted to know how they’d gotten to the hotel without security seeing them, where their belongings were, and whether they were armed. Billy and Rick answered his questions honestly, except regarding where they had left their equipment, and of course they didn’t mention Chris.
After the questioning, the M.M. soldiers took Rick and Billy’s weapons and told them they’d be returned when they left, as long as they didn’t cause any problems. The two agreed, not that either felt they had a choice. Down a dimly lit hallway and around a few corners, they walked, escorted by the soldiers, until they came to a small room where they were told to sit and wait.
The room was only ten by ten feet and was furnished solely with a wooden bench bolted to the floor. Unsure what they were waiting for or whether this was a setup, the two men just sat there.
Several hours later the door finally opened, and a man entered. Five feet ten inches tall, he was heavyset and dressed in the same kind of black jumpsuit the others were wearing. The only difference was that he had the rank of colonel on his collar. He was clean-shaven and appeared to be very relaxed.
Rick and Billy were thinking the same thing: something wasn’t right with this whole picture.
“OK, right down to it,” the man said. “My name is Colonel Jackie, and this place is what I like to think of as Hotel Jackie. Wait…Have we met? You look familiar,” he asked Billy, who remained silent. “No, I don’t believe we have,” Jackie said, answering his own question. “OK, then. Well, I meet with everyone first before I decide whether they’ll stay. Now what are your questions? People always have questions.”
“Well,” Billy said, “what happens to people you don’t let stay?”
“Damn, son, I think you’re the first one to ever ask me that. How about this? I’ll give you a tour.”
Billy and Rick looked at each other before nodding. They followed Jackie as he walked them through the lobby to the elevators. First they went to the basement, followed by the main floor, then to the top floor. Jackie explained that despite what they may have heard about the M.M., it really was an important operation. He also spoke about the power source the building was using as well as its security. The hotel had been built in 2010, Jackie said, and was an absolute jewel. It had been—and still was—the most modern hotel in the world.
The building was completely self-sustaining. It has its own power source as well as water supply and treatment plant. It was constructed at the height of the “green” push, and the owner wanted to prove that a building could run on 40 percent of the power traditional buildings used.
The hotel was in fact twenty-seven stories high and filled with apartments. The top three floors had six apartments each, all with their own gardens to grow food which was processed in the kitchen and served in the restaurant or delivered by room service. Originally the apartment owners had access to the gardens, but now gardeners were part of the hotel staff. The roof had a series of windmills that produced power specifically for the lights in the building. Solar panels, which were also on the roof as well as the outside of the building, produced power for the kitchen and elevators. All other power came from three turbo diesel generators in the basement.
Jackie explained that if the building were drawing its full capacity of power—meaning, if everything were turned on—the full fuel tanks and three generators could run the entire building for about thirty days. They also had three reserve tanks of diesel fuel, each twice the size of the generator’s main tanks. What that meant, Jackie explained, was that at minimal usage, the building’s power would continue for well over a year.
Jackie went on to tell them that they had shut off all nonessential power to the entire building, excluding the top five floors. Two floors were filled with hotel rooms in use, and three contained apartments for staff and soldiers. They ran heating and air conditioning on the rest of the floors to ensure there would be no issues with mold or corrosion. The building, in Jackie’s words, was perfect.
Jackie had been the head of security for the building when the government had collapsed. He told Billy and Rick that he’d been living in a room in the hotel until it was announced that the power grid was going to be lost, after which he didn’t open up the building for anyone to come in. Everyone who’d been staying there at the time left, and he had been the self-appointed manager ever since. It had been his building until the M.M. had recruited him.
“They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” he said with a chuckle.
Rick asked, “What? The barrel of a gun?”
They knew Jackie hadn’t told them the entire truth, but it didn’t matter because he held all the cards as long as they didn’t have access to their weapons.
At the end of the tour, Jackie told them they were welcome to stay if they followed all the rules:
You must not leave the hotel rooms during hours of darkness.
No fighting allowed.
You must work at an assigned post every other day during your stay.
You must stay out of the basement unless escorted.
For sanitation reasons the kitchen also is off limits.
“Colonel Jackie, I’ve listened to everything you’ve said, but honestly I have no idea what the M.M. is,” Rick said. “I mean, I’ve heard of them. I know they’re military, but what is the M.M. exactly?” He knew what it was; he was just curious to hear Jackie’s answer.
“Wow. Have you been under a rock for the last ten years?” Jackie said. “OK, let me explain. ‘M.M.’ stands for ‘Mors Mortis Military’; ‘Mors Mortis’ is Latin for ‘death.’ The M.M. is now the government, and everything you see here, or anywhere for that matter, is theirs. You’re standing in one of many newly acquired military complexes, and I’m in charge of this entire sector. It’s my duty to protect this post and see to its daily operations as well as oversee the shipment of goods from all warehouses in this area.”
“The M.M. doesn’t steal or kill, as I’m sure you have heard,” he continued. “We acquire people’s personal goods to distribute to the masses. We understand there can’t be personal goods in times like these. In order to rebuild this union, we all do our part.”
The two just listened, nodding occasionally.
The final question Billy had for Jackie was about medical supplies and whether there was a way to acquire them; being military, they must have them. Jackie told them not to worry; they could work something out.
Jackie left, and a soldier who’d been following them on the tour escorted them to their room. When they entered the suite, it was breathtaking to say the least.
“We could get Chris and stay here forever,” Rick told Billy.
“Now hold on there, Ricky. This is nice and all, but it don’t feel right. You can’t trust the M.M. they have a bigger agenda than just taking people’s shit.”
Billy stood near the door, mulling everything over, as Rick moved around the room, checking out everything, from the lights to the hot and cold water in the bathroom.
The room was a luxurious suite with a fully stocked bar in the corner and a private balcony that overlooked the city. Two huge couches sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. There were two bedrooms and two bathrooms, each with a Jacuzzi tub and a floor-to-ceiling window. Tucked away in the corner of the main room was a pool table, a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, and a built-in shelf filled with DVDs.
Rick didn’t just feel at home; he was convincing himself that once Chris was there, they would be home.
Billy, on the other hand, wasn’t comfortable and not easily impressed. What he hadn’t told Rick was why he’d been so nervous to enter the building in the first place. He had dealt with the M.M. in
the past and was quite aware of who and what they were in all aspects. For his own reasons, he decided not to tell Rick any of this and did his best to pretend he knew nothing. He just told Rick there were too many unanswered questions. Why did Jackie avoid answering his question about people who had left? Why did they let them in so freely? Everything costs something, he thought.
Billy tried talking Rick into leaving, but Rick was caught up in the moment and not considering the bigger picture.
TWENTY ONE
Chris had been tending the horses. The stable was in fair shape overall, and there was plenty of grass for the horses to feed on. It wasn’t huge, but there were nine stalls and plenty of room for her to do what she needed.
Off to the left of the large main doors, another door led to an office and a break room. There wasn’t much there, except for a couch as well as a few books lying around. After Billy and Rick had departed to search for medical supplies, Chris sat and read for a short while. Nothing really seemed to catch her attention, but when she was trying to pass the time, a good car magazine always did the trick.
Just after midnight, she sat looking out the window of the office. She could see a good distance in front of the stable, perhaps six hundred yards, through an overgrown pasture with the remains of what she thought once had been a farmhouse. There wasn’t anything left of it other than the foundation and a pile of rotting wood, but Chris still thought it might be worth checking out later.
Under the light of two lanterns, she examined the horses’ shoes, ensuring they were in good condition. She checked their teeth and took her time brushing the horses, as she found it to be very relaxing. It was time consuming, but time was one thing she had.
Chris stopped brushing the horses for a moment and looked down at the wound on her leg that Rick had been so insistent on getting medical supplies for. She found herself in a difficult situation. She wanted to be honest with him and explain everything, as she had tried and failed to do many times before.
She wished she knew what the right answer was. Pulling the bandage aside and looking at the wound, she saw that it was already beginning to heal. By morning there would be no sign of any injury whatsoever. If Rick saw the wound had healed so quickly—and in fact disappeared altogether—she’d have no choice but to answer his questions, which was exactly what she was afraid of.
Because Chris had been playing it off for so long, she wondered how long it would be before Rick caught on. Over time she had been shot, stabbed, cut, and hit multiple times and never had a new scar. Whenever she was injured, she covered up the wound and wore the bandage for a few weeks, which to her was a reasonable amount of time, or until Rick believed she was healed. For now she would continue to keep her secret to herself.
The weather had turned windy and rainy, and it was getting very muggy inside the stable. It was the dead of summer and already night outside; Chris wondered how it could be so damn humid when the sun was down. She took off her green army jacket and now was wearing only a pair of tight, leather, low-rise pants and a black sleeveless T-shirt.
She had set down all her gear, including her weapons, in the office near the couch. From her hours of work with the horses, she was soaked in sweat, which made her shirt cling to her body, revealing her natural curves. With her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, she continued to work.
Wiping the sweat from her face, Chris decided she needed some air. The humidity was beginning to get to her, and she was becoming increasingly agitated. She walked outside the stable into the rain, glancing around to confirm what she already knew: there were no people around.
She unbuckled her belt and stepped out of her leather pants, which had been clinging to her. Wearing only her panties and T-shirt, she pulled her hair from its ponytail and shook it loose. She then took a shower in the warm rain under the stars.
Looking up to the sky, Chris tried to catch the raindrops in her mouth. Feeling alive and free, she was truly happy and felt blessed to have Rick and Billy in her life. To be able to feel alive—well, it just didn’t happen too often, so this was one of those moments she wanted to hang on to for as long as she could. Things definitely were looking up for her, and she felt she was in the right place at the right time. As much as she loved Rick and cared about Billy, she was happy to have some time to herself.
As Chris washed her hair in the rain, she hadn’t noticed that two men were watching her from two hundred feet away. They both lay flat on the ground, observing her every move. They’d been there for some time, having seen Chris walk into the office with her gear and come out unarmed. A third man was moving toward her from the far side of the stable.
Chris, unaware of his presence, continued to shower. She had just pulled off her T-shirt off and was undoing her bra as the man moved swiftly and silently toward her. She had her back to him, which made things that much easier for him. The other two men saw their counterpart getting ready to move in from behind her; both of them were now ready to do what they were there to do.
As Chris stood in the rain, washing her long brown hair, she felt what she thought was a bee sting on her neck and slapped at it. Not knowing that something was sticking out of her neck, she inadvertently had pushed it in deeper. Feeling woozy, she pulled the small dart out of her neck.
“What the hell?” she said, as someone from behind grabbed her and lifted her from the ground. “Get the hell off me!”
Chris was screaming as loud as she could as she saw the two other men run toward her at full sprint. She struggled for her release as sheer anger filled her mind. She attempted to bite whoever was holding her but couldn’t get her mouth near him. She felt weak and knew the dart was making her feel that way.
As the two men ran toward her, she continued to struggle with whomever had grabbed her, but he just held her tighter, with her arms pinned to her side. As the other men came closer, Chris, without thinking, lifted her leg from the ground and kicked one man hard in the face; pushing off him, she used his body to her advantage. The person holding her staggered back, as the man she kicked fell to his knees with blood spewing from a broken nose.
The other man, who was coming closer, stopped short of her being able to kick him. Chris then slammed her head backward into the nose of whoever was holding her. She felt and heard his nose and cheekbone break as her head made contact with him. When he let go, she knew it was her only chance to escape.
She ran as fast and hard as she could, but the drugs from the dart already had taken hold of her, and she wasn’t running even a fraction as fast as she wanted to. The unknown drug in her system was slowing her mind and her willpower.
The one man she hadn’t hit was now in chase, stopping for only a moment to shoot Chris three more times in the back with his tranquilizer gun. Chris staggered as the darts pierced her bare back. She knew she had only about a ten-second lead; she wasn’t trying to get away as much as create some distance between her and the two men still standing. Then just maybe she would have a chance.
Still running, Chris was about six hundred feet from where the attack had occurred. She tried to stop, but barefoot and dizzy, she lost her footing on the muddy ground and slid, landing facedown in the mud.
A moment later, using the last of her strength and will, she was on her feet, and the man was chasing her was in front of her. For a split second, both stood looking at each other until the man swung at Chris with a right hook. To his astonishment, Chris had moved three feet to his left, out of his reach. She then came around with her own hard right hook, hitting him in the side of his face. Dazed by the powerful blow and surprised by Chris’s strength, the man came around hard with a left hook, hitting Chris’s left eye and knocking her to the ground.
The man then took his opportunity to move in and grab her. Chris staggered to her knees; when he reached down to secure her, she punched him between the legs as hard as she could. He instantly dropped to his knees as pain spread throughout his midsection and up his spine. Chris stood up and pushed her right knee
hard into his face. Blood poured from his nose and the three-inch gash across his forehead. Surprisingly he stood and attempted another bear hug. She struggled, but once his large arms were around her slender body, he lifted her and threw her as hard as he could. Chris landed on the ground, her upper arm striking a large rock and dislodging from her shoulder.
Without hesitation he moved in again and picked Chris up again. Nearly unconscious and her body limp, the only thing she could do was spit a mouthful of blood in his face in a last show of contempt.
He then hit Chris in the face once more and tossed her to the ground again. “You bitch!” he said. “I have something for you!”
On her hands and knees in the rain and mud, she looked up at her attacker. Blood poured from her mouth, hands, and face. Suddenly she smiled. After spitting out a mouthful of blood, she said, “You know, I have something for you too.”
The man jumped on top of her, pinning her under his body. Chris struggled, but she was too weak from the tranquilizers. He moved his face close to hers in a feeble attempt to kiss her, and when he did, Chris pushed her face toward the side of the man’s neck and bit down hard. The man instantly let go as a huge chuck of his neck fell from her mouth to the ground.
Chris then picked up a rock just slightly bigger than her hand and swung it around, hitting the side of his head. Before he could realize what had happened, he was off Chris and lying on his side. With pure rage Chris stood and kicked him in the head, forcing him onto his back. She then sat on top of him, took his hair in her fingers, and beat his face with the rock. She felt his head split open with the first blow; blood and brain matter poured out of his skull, mixing with the mud and rain.
“Kiss this, you son of a bitch!” she said, smiling, as she leaned down and bit the side of his neck again. The blood filling her mouth and pouring down her throat was exactly what she needed to counter the effects of the tranquilizers. Chris slung her body upward after she finished drinking the man’s life energy. Once more she beat his head with the rock, even though she knew he was dead.
A Town Called America Page 9
