Final Days

by Jasper T. Scott

  “What are you going on about?” Kendra asked. “Who’s Hound?”

  “Lewis Hound,” Roland said.

  “The billionaire?” Kendra asked.

  “Very good.”

  “What does he have to do with all of this?”

  “I’ll make it a quicker story,” Andrew started. “The kid went on for an hour about it, and this was the gist: Lewis Hound has been quietly building something in the middle of the ocean for the last few years. Roland managed to track the last shipping point to this very warehouse. He’s also seen people being ferried out to bulk carriers by armed men, and witnessed them departing from shore.”

  “The missing persons case I’m working on leads here,” Kendra said, her voice low. “Then your daughter…?”

  Andrew nodded from the driver’s seat.

  They arrived at the gates, and Roland noticed Andrew scanning the air for drones.

  “Do you think they’re all gone? What about more guards?” Kendra asked.

  “They’re all gone. Those guards were their last line of defense, but I suspect we’re not going to find much in the warehouse either.” The gates were the kind you needed to be buzzed into before the electric rollers moved it to the side. Roland braced himself as he felt the truck begin to lurch forward. Andrew didn’t ease up; instead, he accelerated as they neared the gates, and the truck busted through with a bang and a clatter. They drove over the mess and kept moving for the edge of the warehouse.

  “That’s one hell of an entrance,” Kendra said. “So you’re saying this place is owned by the billionaire Lewis Hound, and that he’s built something in the water? And that he kidnapped people from around the country and brought them here? To what end?”

  “You’re the special agent. You tell us,” Andrew said.

  “There are only a few things it could be,” Roland told her. “An underwater bunker, set to avoid and survive the coming years of devastation above ground, or a ship like Noah’s Ark, made to travel the world in search of a safe home after the events transpire.”

  “And the people are there to repopulate the Earth. Scientists, doctors, farmers… but what about the others? Your daughter is what… fifteen?” Kendra asked Andrew.

  “Fourteen,” he said as they arrived at the edge of the immense warehouse. Andrew hopped out in seconds, his gun in his hand. Roland waited for the two armed professionals to assess the area before venturing from his seat. He grabbed his backpack with his laptop in it, and joined them as they moved for the side door.

  “What do they want with her?” Kendra asked.

  “I have no idea, Agent.”

  “Kendra. Just call me Kendra,” she told him.

  Roland watched as Andrew tested the door lever. It turned clockwise, and he tugged it open. He glanced at the two of them, surprise in his eyes. “Guess they weren’t expecting company.”

  The ocean was loud today, angry waves lapping against the dock a quarter mile from the warehouse. The building was even larger, being so close to it, and Roland’s gaze ran a line up the outer wall, settling on the ceiling a hundred feet or so up. He suddenly felt exposed out here beside the structure, and silently urged Andrew to enter the premises.

  The Marine did, with the FBI agent close behind; both of them had their guns raised. The woman, Kendra, was clearing her throat, the toxic fog getting to her. Hopefully it would be better inside, or Roland would have to be forced to offer his respirator to her for a bit. It wasn’t something he wanted to do, especially with his asthma.

  “Step inside, Roland.” Andrew’s head poked through the doorway, and Roland jogged over.

  The facility was dimly lit without power; only a compact line of windows near the roof overlooking the ocean aided them. The natural light exposed the empty warehouse floor. There was next to nothing inside. It even appeared as though someone had washed the entire concrete pad after evacuating. Roland instantly knew this project was run by someone fastidious.

  A couple of skids stood stacked along the far wall, and two forklifts were parked, their power charging cords plugged into two hundred forty-volt sockets. Rows and rows of empty red shelving lined the other half of the facility, the end caps labeled with a structured nomenclature. Roland let a low whistle out. He was impressed.

  “What is it?” Andrew asked, glancing wearily at him.

  “This place, it’s the real deal. These guys were clearly pros in the supply chain game. No wonder the paperwork was done so precisely. There were a dozen company names under umbrella corps, ordering supplies from suppliers around the world. All the goods ended up here after making stops in various hubs around the United States.” Roland pointed to the far side of the room. Tall robotic arms and machinery sat powered down in dead silence. “Look, manufacturing bays.”

  “What does that mean?” Kendra asked.

  “It means they built some of the stuff here and shipped it out to the facility,” he answered.

  “And where is that?” she asked.

  “If we knew that, we wouldn’t need to be in here right now,” Roland said.

  Andrew seemed impatient. The man had one purpose in life; that much was clear: to find his daughter. Roland didn’t blame him, but he couldn’t quite grasp the drive. He’d never had someone in his life to care so much about, at least not since his grandma had left the world.

  “Let’s keep moving. Where would this computer be?” Andrew asked.

  “No idea. Let’s start with the rooms,” Roland said, and Kendra was already taking the lead, walking toward the rear doorway.

  “Let’s separate. It’ll go faster,” she said.

  “If it’s just the same, I’ll stick with you,” Roland told her, hating how weak it made him sound. Better weak than dead. She didn’t argue, but he saw the slight grin on her face, mocking him. He was used to it.

  “I’ll check these out,” Andrew called from the other side of the warehouse.

  The first room was dark, and Kendra flipped a light switch on when she entered. She scanned the room from behind her gun, and Roland saw it was a janitorial closet. Stacks of paper towels and cases of toilet paper sat in neat rows; various cleaning chemicals were color-coordinated on a metal rack.

  Without a word, she stepped out, bumping into Roland and waving him away with a frown. The next room was empty; the following ones were bathrooms with large clean stalls for the warehouse workers.

  They met Andrew again in the corner of the rear storeroom, and he wasn’t wearing his used respirator. He held out three fresh ones, and passed two over. Roland happily tossed the borrowed one to the side, and slid this one over his head, letting it rest around his neck.

  “Any luck?” he asked the Marine.

  “Nothing resembling a computer room yet, but it looks like the building goes on over there.” Andrew pointed to a double door to the right of the manufacturing bays, and they crossed the space, their footsteps echoing in the vast empty room.

  Kendra pushed through the doors and waved Andrew through. Roland took the rear, and was surprised to see a large living space. There was a pool table, televisions on the walls, a coffee bar, and games and books stacked in bookshelves.

  “What is this place?” he asked.

  “This is where they gave their captives a sense of normalcy,” Andrew said.

  “He’s right. They were trying to make them feel safe, comforted.” Kendra walked to the pool table and ran a finger along the wooden ledge. She pushed an errant ball into a side pocket and kept walking. “I suspect we’ll find the accommodations nearby.”

  She was correct. There were two sizeable rooms, one presumably for men, and one for women. Each held about fifty bunks, stripped clean of linens and pillows. Roland’s stomach churned at the idea of being trapped in there with so many other people, not knowing your fate. But maybe these were the lucky ones.

  Andrew shouldered past Roland, nearly knocking his backpack off. He strode through the bunks, as if searching for one his daughter might have been sleeping on.


  He stopped and turned to face Roland, his eyes intense and dark. “Find the computer. We need to figure out where he took them.”

  “I’m trying. Let’s keep moving,” Roland said. After stumbling upon an immaculate commercial kitchen and dining hall, they found the employees’ area. The metal door was locked, and a keypad hung beside the handle on the wall.

  Andrew fiddled with it, but it wasn’t going to budge. He pulled back, like he was about to attempt to kick open the solid metal door, and Roland reached out, grabbing the man’s shoulder.

  “Let me try something first.” Roland set his pack on the ground and pulled a small flathead screwdriver from the front pouch. He pried the casing of the control box apart, revealing wires and a metallic panel. He analyzed it, finding it was more rudimentary than he’d expected. “They could have made this a little more challenging,” he mumbled to himself, and stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth as he cut two wires. He held his breath and tapped the loose ends. The door buzzed and a red light flashed on the panel.

  Kendra pressed the lever and the door opened for them. “Nice work, Roland,” she said, and he couldn’t help but smile at the praise from the pretty FBI lady. It wasn’t every day he was complimented. Or ever.

  “It’ll be in here,” Roland said with a confidence he’d been missing minutes ago. It was nicer on this side of the complex, and he gazed over the electronics and fancy bar set up with leather seating and a boardroom table.

  Beyond the open area was a surveillance room. Dozens of screens lined the wall, none of them currently activated. That gave Roland hope there was no one watching the warehouse any longer. Why bother? It was empty, its purpose served.

  He found what he wanted at the end of the room. A black console sat there, unplugged from the server he knew would have been taken. He could only hope there was enough ghost data on the box to roll with.

  “This is it.” He took a seat in a cheap office chair and pulled his laptop out, joining the two devices via a cable. The other two lingered behind him, Andrew imposing with his arms crossed, his gun still in hand. Kendra’s Glock was holstered, and she looked at Roland with anticipation, a sense of excitement.

  No one spoke as he went through the motions, searching for information that was clearly wiped from the device. “Damn it. This is going to take some time,” Roland told them. He was sure he’d be able to find what he needed, but it would be tedious.

  “How long?” Andrew asked, no sense of patience in his voice.

  “An hour, maybe three,” Roland said.

  Andrew slapped a meaty paw onto the desk, shaking it. “We don’t have that kind of time.”

  “What else can we do? Even if we find this location, how are we traveling there?” Kendra asked.

  Roland watched as Andrew’s eyebrows lifted. “Eureka!”

  “We have a regular Archimedes in the house,” Roland said with a chuckle.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Andrew asked angrily.

  “Water displacement… old Greek guy… nothing?” Roland started, but realized it wasn’t worth it.

  “Eureka. It’s a town a little way up the coast.” Andrew’s phone was out, and Roland saw a map appear on the screen. “There it is.” He pointed to a faint dot on the coastline map. “An hour at the speed limit, but I won’t be driving that slow.”

  “What’s in Eureka?” Kendra asked.

  “There’s a Marine Corps recruitment station. Also a US Coast Guard base, if I’m not mistaken. We need a boat. They should have them,” Andrew said, already heading for the door.

  “You guys are leaving me here alone?” Roland shouted as he heard Kendra chasing after Andrew.

  “Find me those details.” She threw a business card on the desk. “Text us the coordinates, and we’ll return for you in a couple of hours.” Roland stared into her big brown eyes. They were deadly serious. “Don’t fail. We need you to do this for us.”

  He gulped dryly and nodded as she ran from the surveillance room.

  “Better start hustling,” he said out loud, and soon the only sound inside the entire complex was that of his fingers clicking on his laptop keyboard.

  Twenty-Five

  Kendra

  3 Days Left…

  Kendra slung her seatbelt on as Andrew Miller ripped around the parking lot with his truck, the tires squealing as he peeled away from the large complex.

  “Don’t kill us before we have a chance to find anything out,” she warned. He didn’t reply, but she did notice his foot ease off the pedal, if only slightly.

  “How did you find me?” Andrew asked without looking at her.

  “I saw your handiwork at Wilkes’ house,” she started.

  “He was a bad guy,” Andrew told her.

  “I assumed as much. I’ve seen enough video of him trailing our missing persons that I knew he was clearly involved, but I didn’t realize at what level.” Kendra kept the window up, and had her respirator hanging below her chin. Andrew did as well.

  “You thought I was the ringleader,” he said, and it didn’t sound like a question.

  She sighed in agreement. “For a moment, I wasn’t sure. Your story didn’t add up: a missing girl, when the rest were mostly adults and skilled specialists.”

  Andrew finally cocked his head to the side and met her stare. “I’m not sure what to tell you, except that Wilkes was a piece of crap.”

  “I know. Did you free the woman?” she asked.

  “I cut her loose, but she took off before I could help,” he admitted.

  “Good.”

  “What about you? You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I saw your truck at the coffee shop, then tearing away from Mr. Tesla’s,” she said.

  “Mr. Tesla,” Andrew laughed.

  “That’s what I called him before I knew his name,” she told him, feeling mildly embarrassed.

  “It’s a good name.”

  “I found you at the motel and hid a tracking device on your truck.” She pulled out her phone, and it showed the blinking light moving along the highway as he drove up the coast.

  There was a scattering of cars on the side of the highway, and she could see pieces of the ocean behind open pockets of fog as they drove higher in elevation, then nothing as they lowered on the undulating roads.

  “I should have been more careful,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re here. I can use all the help I can get.”

  “How did you find the strange kid?” she asked. The truth was, Roland was probably only a few years younger than her, but with his disposition and eclectic style, he felt a decade her junior.

  Andrew filled her in about the missing laptop from Wilkes, and how he couldn’t access it. So that was what she’d been seeing through the binoculars at the restaurant the night before. It confirmed her suspicions. She was glad Andrew wasn’t who she’d speculated. He was gritty, on the edge right now, and she noticed him clenching his jaw tight every minute or so. She guessed there were dark secrets in his closet, and she wasn’t about to try to pry them out.

  “I killed a man a couple of days ago,” she told him after five minutes of silence.

  “Yeah?” he asked, seeming surprised by her news.

  “He was trying to take a van from a woman and her kids,” Kendra said.

  “Good.”

  “Good?”

  “That you shot him. The world’s not going to be pretty from now on, and the fewer dirtbags out there, the better it’s going to be,” he said.

  Kendra wasn’t sure she liked his vigilante-justice demeanor, but he was on the same side as her. Jurisdiction and law were likely things of the past.

  “It wasn’t my first kill.” She subconsciously ran a hand to her left shoulder, where the scar remained. It had been a bloody day, one that had left behind more than a physical scar.

  He didn’t press for more details, and she liked him more for it. She could see the body counts in his posture, in the way he averted his gaze from her e
yes. He was a trained killer.

  “What’s your story?” he asked.

  “Kind of a broad query, isn’t it?” she replied.

  “What’s a woman like you doing chasing after a case when the world is ending?”

  Anger rose inside her veins, pulsing outward with each beat of her heart. “A woman like me?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean?”

  “A person. An FBI agent. Jesus, you know what I’m saying,” he stammered.

  The fact that he grew uncomfortable set her at ease, and she relaxed. “I had nowhere else to go.”

  “No husband? Kids?” he asked.

  “Nope. Parents are on their way to Houston.” She stared out the window, noticing the fog was growing thinner the farther north they went. “You? Other than the daughter.”

  “Only a bitter ex-wife and her new husband. I’m okay with him meeting his maker, but…” He stopped, and Kendra noticed his knuckles turn white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

  “But what?”

  “Selena. Used to think she was the love of my life. Hard to leave her behind like this,” he said softly, surprising Kendra with his vulnerability.

  “What happened?” She knew she’d gone too far, but he’d started the topic.

  “The same thing that always happens. Me. I screw it up.” He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t ask him to.

  The ground vibrated, shooting a tremor through the earth. The truck lurched a bit to the left, toward the opposite lane, and Andrew quickly compensated. No one else was on the road, so at least they didn’t have to worry about a head-on collision.

  “Earthquake,” Kendra said. “Let’s hope that’s all we see.”

  “I doubt it. It was small, and likely only the beginning,” Andrew said. They kept moving, more slowly now, as if he could sense more danger up ahead.

  “I’m impressed,” she told him.

  “By what?”

  “You. You managed to make it all the way here, and we might actually find your daughter,” Kendra said, meaning every word.