“You’d think the snow would be pure white since there’s no one left burning fossil fuels.”
“It isn’t snow.” She shook off the flake. “It’s ash from the fires.”
Radioactive ash. Poisoning everything it touched.
Tina panned up the slope of the mountain. Shale and mining tailings created bald patches of dirty snow. A satellite tower and two windmills sprouted like mutant hairs on the peaks. “Do you think that guy was right? That the snow is actually a good thing since it will protect the microorganisms in the ground from the radiation?”
“I plan to use it in the learning module.” Audra resisted the urge to film the ground. Instead, she focused on the array of solar panels glittering like scales on the mountainside. She tightened on the two men working on the array then backed off. “It’ll give people hope.”
“Yeah but do you believe it?”
She sighed. “The snow has to melt sometime and the radiation will still be there, so it doesn’t make any sense to me.”
Following the mountain’s slope, she filmed the frosty rock then hit the tree line.
“It’s so quiet.” Tina turned so she recorded the opposite view.
“We just can’t hear much outside of these hoods. It’s why we have the mics.” The skin on her nape itched. “Plus it’s winter. Things hibernate in the winter or fly south.”
This was the way things should be, right?
“It’s May.” Tina shifted behind her. “Birds should be flying everywhere, building nests and laying eggs.”
“It’s Colorado. They have winter until June.” Surely the birds would know that and not come here.
Tina sighed. “I think they’re dead. Everything’s dead. Pines are supposed to be evergreens, right?”
“Yeah.” Audra swallowed hard as she scanned the brown needled trees.
“These aren’t. They’re dead. Our great-great-great grandchildren will inherit a dead world.”
“There are seeds under the soil and dirt. They’ll grow again in the summer.” She panned down the trunks to the ground. Dirty snow built in drifts edging the forest.
“Summer isn’t coming.” Tina lowered the camera to her side. “Didn’t you hear the guy? All the ash and soot and stuff in the air have sent us into a nuclear winter. Aside from the lovely acid rain, we’ll have winter for years to come. All those Bambis, Thumpers and other woodland creatures are going to die, if they haven’t already.”
Geez. Instead of raising her spirits, she wanted to slash her wrists and create crimson angels in the snow. “That’s just a theory. His theory. No one knows what’s going to happen.”
“Yeah, but we’ll get to live through it.”
“The key word being live.” As long as they lived and breathed, they could still plan for a better future. Doctor Spanner and her worldwide brain trust would figure something out. They had to. “Come on. Let’s go look at the greenhouses. I’m sure the children will want to see where those tomatoes came from.”
Things were growing there. Good things. Nonradioactive things they could eat.
“I want to see where they came from.”
They followed the trampled snow down the mountain. The trail twisted to the left, into the woods. Audra held her breath and stepped into the dappled sunlight. Despite her suit, cold pressed against her.
Tina chuckled. “I don’t think you’re claustrophobic at all. I think you’re afraid of the dark.”
“I’m an adult. Adults are not afraid of the dark.” Audra picked up her speed. Bright light blazed ahead. Just a little farther. She burst into a clearing. Snow and ash dusted a wooden bridge arching over a creek.
Tina smacked Audra’s tank and pointed to a clump of black ten feet away. Ice filtered the stream through jagged jaws. “What’s that?”
“Probably drift wood or debris from when the water runs high.” A vibration rattled up Audra’s spine. Green flashed in her vision. What in tarnation? She stepped off the path. Snow swallowed her leg up to the knee.
Tina hooked her arm through Audra’s. “Where are you going?”
“To investigate.”
She shook her head until her hood vibrated with movement. “You could fall into the river. You’ll drown with this weight on your back.”
There could be ice under the snow. Audra glanced from the bridge to the river’s edge and tapped the camera against her leg. The camera. Duh! “Maybe I can see it with this.”
She turned on the camera and focused on the clump. The image blurred and tightened before the telescopic lens reached to its fullest length. The mass separated into wings and bodies. A few green feathers stuck to the bird’s head but the body was cracked and blackened skin. Lord Almighty. Her stomach seesawed and bile rose in her throat.
Tina peered over her shoulder. “Are those…birds?”
“They were.” Audra prodded the off button twice before the camera shut down and the lens slowly retracted. If that’s what happened to animals, were the people in the infirmary dying in the same way?
“That’s gross.”
That was an understatement. She glanced around her. Nothing stirred in the woods. Maybe Tina was right, maybe everything was dead or dying. Horribly.
The ground shifted underfoot. Loose rocks clattered on the bridge. Not her imagination this time.
“Did you feel that?”
Tina nodded. “Something’s wrong. We should go back.”
Audra worked her boot from the snow and shook off the excess. She staggered a few feet before finding her balance.
Across the river in a crescent of flat land, greenhouses stretched like rectangular beads on a thick metal chain. Large snow bubbles indicated the presence of railcars. In the distance, frozen gray waves marked the presence of cars and other vehicles. Water dripped from the conveyor serpentining down the incline.
So close. Sucking on her bottom lips, she eyed her camera then the distance. Next time. They weren’t going anywhere. And her fingers and toes were starting to tingle from the cold. “Okay.”
She turned around.
Tina was almost at the woods.
“Hey, wait up. We’re supposed to stick together.”
“I gotta bad feeling.” Tina kicked at the muddy slush. “Real bad.”
Audra trapped a scream behind her locked teeth. Tina had a bad feeling in Tucson so they’d left. Tina had a bad feeling in Casa Grande before one of the buses in their convoy had stopped. Tina had a bad feeling last night and they’d avoided the debate.
Listening to Tina’s feelings had forced them to travel to Colorado and safety, avoided being slaughtered like so many of their friends in Casa Grande, and missed the assassination of one of their leaders.
But those had been bad feelings.
This one was real bad.
Lord love a duck, Audra didn’t want to know what that meant. “Is it…”
She couldn’t ask, wouldn’t name her family, friends or loved ones in case some malevolent force listened.
Tina picked up the pace to a jog. “I don’t see pictures. I just get feelings. Like the boogeyman creeping closer in the dark. It’s just close but not on us, if that makes sense.”
Boogeyman. Got it. Audra’s thighs burned as they raced up the hill. She gasped for breath in the hiss of her oxygen tank.
The entrance stuck out of the mountain like a silver tongue.
Almost there. Almost to safety.
Tina raced ahead, skidded on a mud patch and slammed into the double door.
“You okay?” They had to be careful. If they punctured the suits, they could die like those birds.
“Fine. Fine.” She waved her hand, grabbed the doorknob and yanked.
The door remained shut, but the red light blinked on.
Tina tried again, bracing one foot on the side and pulling. Still closed. “It’s locked.”
Audra rested her hands on her knees. “I think…someone’s…coming out.”
Moisture condensed on her faceplate before snaki
ng down in fat beads. Dang. She hadn’t thought she was that out of shape.
Setting her fingers on the thin ledge in the door’s window, Tina hopped up and down, peering through the glass. “I don’t see anyone. And there are red lights inside the room.”
“Emergency.” Audra swayed on her feet. What had she been thinking?
Tina stopped her bunny routine and spun around. “You sound funny.”
“I…feel…” Something. What was the word? She tugged on her suit. Boy it was hot in here.
Tina stomped to her side and lifted Audra’s wrist. “Shit. You’re out of air.”
That explained it. She fell to her. No that didn’t. She was supposed to have longer. Darkness narrowed her vision like a curtain coming down on a stage. She’d sleep on it. That’s sounded good. Her eyes drifted closed as she fell onto the down bed.
“Audra? Audra! Can you hear me?” Tina’s voice faded away.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Papa Rose paced the cramped room. His gun pressed against the small of his back. Boxes, crates, luggage and overflowing shopping bags filled everything but the ten-by-ten foot space. Wind howled around the old warehouse and snow pelted the metal walls. One small aisle led to the greenhouses and light filtered through the minuscule window above the cot where Justin Quartermain slept.
“You’re going to wear the floor out.” Mildred’s white roots scribbled red curly hair around her head. She glanced at him over the top of her magnifying glasses and set her travel guide to Wales on the crate she sat on.
He looked at his feet. “It’s concrete.”
“You know what I mean.” Leaning over, she placed her hand on Justin’s forehead. “Sleep is good for him. His body can focus on healing, instead of walking and talking.”
The kid mewled and curled into a tight fetal ball.
Papa Rose’s fingers formed fists. He should never have climbed that serving table. If he’d stayed next to the boy, he wouldn’t have been beaten nearly to death. When would he learn to be careful, that his actions always hurt people?
“And stop blaming yourself.” Mildred tugged her readers off her nose and carefully folded them. “You couldn’t have known what would happen.”
“I shouldn’t have deserted my position.” Should’ve. Could’ve. Would’ve. He’d flagellated himself with those words for the last eight and a half months. Nothing had changed. And he hadn’t learned from his mistakes.
Now a kid lay dying.
Papa Rose squeezed his skull between his hands. Christ Jesus. In another few years that could be Toby.
“I can see you’re not going to make this easy on yourself.”
He didn’t deserve easy. When the boy recovered, Papa Rose would have to find a way to atone.
Mildred pushed off her seat. Her mouth was a slash in her lean face. Lines radiated from the corners of her eyes and curved into her cheeks. “Sit.”
He blinked.
She stomped her foot and pointed to her recently abandoned crate. “Sit your ass down, Soldier.”
Damn. She sounded just like her late husband. Papa Rose sat out of respect for his memory. “I’m sitting.”
“Good. Now, let’s go over the events of last night. Just the surface details the first time.”
He nodded. The drill was familiar. Face the event over and over again until it lost its power. But it was too soon. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder couldn’t be diagnosed until months afterward. The general wasn’t even buried.
“I know what you’re thinking.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “It’s too soon. But you’ve already been diagnosed with PTSD so suck it up and go with it.”
Shit! Was she channeling her late husband, Wheelchair Henry? Papa Rose swore to God if she pulled a crystal ball out of one of those bags, he’d believe she was communicating with the beyond.
“I suppose you want to know my credentials. Well, I don’t have any. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know stuff. I quizzed my husband for his board exam, read all his books so I knew what the heck he was talking about and listened to him rant about the stupid people in his field and how they just didn’t understand.”
Papa Rose nodded. Wheelchair Henry had said the last bit a million times. Of course, part of Papa Rose’s recovery was because the ornery old coot wouldn’t leave him at the bottom of a bottle. He had a feeling Henry got the stubborn streak from his wife.
“Where were you when Lister arrived?”
He closed his eyes. His mind projected the scene on his lids. “I was in the kitchen. Justin was in the middle and Falcon was on his left side.”
Mr. Special Forces liked to show off his left-handed shooting skills.
“Describe what you see?”
“A couple playing kissy-face. Three women chatting. The serving guy, Emmanuel, he’s being harassed by some assholes. Falcon calls ‘em dicks, loud enough for them to hear. Five of them have handguns. The cook, chef,” he corrected himself just as she had, “she’s standing in front of the oven, holding on to the handle, like the thug-uglies are gonna steal it.”
Mildred cleared her throat. “How are they acting?”
“They’re making crass comments to the chef.” The pretzel comment wasn’t even possible. Women just didn’t bend like that. “But Falcon’s comment has brought attention to us and Justin. We asked if he wanted to leave. He didn’t.”
Damn, he’d forgotten that.
“He didn’t seem to think any of them were a threat.” Just a bunch of bullies blowing hot air.
“What about you?”
“The guns are a threat, but they kept repeating the same line as if they were rehearsing for a part. Liberty is precious and must be protected.”
“Do you recognize the line?” Fabric rustled, he felt her move. “A piece of poetry, perhaps?”
He snorted. What did he look like, an egghead? “No.”
“Anything eventful happen before the lights went down?”
“Lieutenant Rogers climbed the ladder in the center of the room and adjusted the light.” She was a looker, that one.
“I see.”
He shrugged. His eyes worked. “The lights went down soon after. Justin moved in front of us and faced the stage.”
“So if he had shot the general, you would have witnessed it.”
“Hell yeah.” He’d said as much twenty times. She’d been there. Hadn’t she been listening?
“Where’d the shot come from?”
“Behind me then everywhere. I caught the whiff of gunpowder when I turned to the left.” He bit his tongue before he mentioned Carter. The dead comrade always showed up when the fireworks started. Sweat popped out on his forehead.
“So you told the Sergeant-Major.”
“Yes, and he wanted a visual. We couldn’t see spit. It was too dark in there. Too exposed. We backed up toward the wall, keeping Justin between us.”
“How far were you in before the woman shouted gun?”
“Five or six steps.” The light had nearly blinded him when they’d turned on and the sirens. How had she made herself heard above that noise? “Falcon increased the distance looking for a back way out.”
There hadn’t been any. Instead, they slipped farther into an indefensible position.
“Then what happened?”
“The Sergeant-Major was demanding answers. Doc and Lister were down, exposed.” One more shot could have killed them both.
“And you had to protect them, didn’t you?”
“Yes. They’re our leaders.” Without them, everyone would be dead by now. Only idiots like Benedict and Gavin Neville couldn’t see it.
“What did you do?”
“I left Justin to climb the serving counter. Higher ground would give me a better idea of the threat.”
“Were you having visions of medals and hero worship when you moved?”
What the fuck? He opened his eyes. “No. I had to do my part. I knew the assassin was near, I had to find him.”
Mildred smiled.
“You were protecting the public welfare.”
That wasn’t an excuse. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I was supposed to be protecting Justin.”
“Let me ask you a question.” She tucked a curly lock of hair behind her ear. “If you’d just murdered someone, what would you do to get away with it? Frame someone else perhaps?”
“The kid was the only one wearing a hoody.” Papa Rose pushed to his feet. The bad guys would have killed two birds with one stone. Especially since his animosity toward the Doc was well known. He was the perfect patsy. He glanced out the window. Yellow shifted in the forest.
“And people had already paid attention to him.”
“That still doesn’t excuse me.”
“Priorities are always shuffled in battle. The Sergeant-Major reassessed the situation based on the most pressing need. He had no way of knowing other forces were at work.” Mildred patted him on the back. “Just think about that until our next session.”
A person emerged from the woods. Their arms were extended behind their back as if dragging something. He pressed his nose against the cold glass. Not something, someone. “Your farmers are in distress.”
“What?” Mildred elbowed him out of the way and stood on tiptoe to see outside. “I gave my people the day off.”
His muscles twitched. They needed help. He could help, but that would mean… He glanced at Justin’s battered body.
She pulled the gun from his waistband. “Go. Help them.” She checked the chamber then the clip. “I’ll watch him.”
His feet remained sunk in the cement. If something were to happen…
“Go!” She pushed him to the door. “I’ll lock it behind you.”
Papa Rose darted through six sets of doors and two greenhouses. He skidded on loose dirt then sprinted down rows of corn and hit the airlock. The light changed red. Ignoring the air tank, he hopped into his suit and set his hood in place.
Five minutes before the lack of oxygen began to affect him.
He hit the door running. Of course, exercise probably knocked that time in half. The figures had reached the bridge and went down. His breathing knocked against his eardrums. Twenty yards to go.
One crawled to his feet, started walking backward.
Redaction: Dark Hope Part III Page 24
