“Probably,” Blake replied, already starting to pace toward the end of the alley. One positive aspect about how dark the city had become was that they could use the ash and smoke to hide their figures. They moved through it like shadows, their dark masses only in one place for a second before they moved on, the plumes of smoke billowing in the wind as they passed but not seeming out of place. It was perhaps the perfect environment for hiding from someone, though Blake was aware that anyone else could also be hiding just out of reach.
“I don’t know what good this is doing,” Blake was forced to admit after several minutes of cutting between streets and trying to get closer to the new wardens of the city. “We’re not going to overhear anything of use. If I was one of these guys, I wouldn’t just openly talk about what was going on.”
Vic agreed immediately, the same thought having already occurred to him as they crouched behind a dumpster, listening to a mundane conversation about what a couple of men were planning to eat that evening. “Me neither. I think we need to head back to base and try and come up with more of a plan.”
“Yeah,” Blake sighed, “I guess you’re right.” Walking away from the theater district, Blake couldn’t help but feel like they were making a mistake. He felt like he needed to be there, like there was a job to be done or someone to save and he was walking away from his responsibilities. It irritated him that they didn’t know more about why children were being rounded up there—he had young friends throughout the city due to his work and he thought fondly of them. It was in his nature to protect people and he didn’t like to feel like he was letting anyone down.
“Psst!”
A hissing sound stopped Blake and Vic in their tracks, the pair just about to leave the outskirts of the theater district. They glanced at each other and then their surroundings, the smoky cloud continuing to lessen their view. Vic wafted his hand in front of his eyes a couple of times, trying to shift the cloud and grant him a wilder field of vision. All it did was stir up the ash and dirt though, causing it to spiral in front of their eyes as it got caught on the wind.
“Psst. Friendlies?”
Vic’s ears pricked up at the word. He understood what that meant, old combat lingo that was used to identify friend or foe when you couldn’t see them clearly. Receiving a look from Blake, he understood that his friend had heard it too. As Blake offered him a slight nod, Vic knew they had to take this chance. His pistol still rested in the holster at his waist and he was prepared to use it at a second’s notice. The only thing slowing him down was the lack of identifiable targets.
Opening his mouth, Vic locked eyes with Blake for another second before responding to the call. “Friendlies,” he repeated, his hand hovering over his weapon as his eyes darted through the darkness, searching for the owner of the first voice.
“Hands in the air,” the voice came again from the shadows, somehow seeming to bounce off of every wall so Blake and Vic were unable to identify which direction it was coming from. “We won’t shoot.”
Vic didn’t like this. In his line of work, he had learned not to trust anyone until he had a reason to, and even then, to always cover his back. Blake seemed less suspicious though, the stuntman raising his arms above his head and looking at Vic, willing him to do the same. Eventually, the Ukrainian submitted, lifting his arms in the air and away from his weapon. He knew he could still reach it in under a second if he needed to, but he was aware that the advantage no longer sat with him.
“Aha!” A man suddenly emerged from the cloud, walking forward and standing in front of the pair. “I thought it was you two. Finally come down from the roof, have you?”
Vic glanced over at Blake, curious to know if he recognized the man standing in front of them. Vic had never seen him before in his life, although he looked intimidating. He wore two belts of ammo across his chest, crossing in the center just below his sternum. A 9mm Glock pistol was fastened at his waist—similar to how Vic wore his—accompanied by two small blades. He was much taller than Vic himself, though he probably matched Blake for height and size. Both men were built like buildings, putting Vic’s small frame to shame, though he knew he would have them all bested in speed and agility.
“I’m Jackson,” the man continued to speak as three other figures also appeared from the darkness behind him. “We’re part of the group fighting back against the Authority. From watching you over the past couple of hours, we assume you’re inclined that way as well?”
Vic furrowed his brow. The Authority? Piecing things together quickly in his head, he assumed that was the name that had been given to the men and women in uniform in the theater district. But why? It was obvious that staying locked away in his store for the past few days had shielded them from the real situation within the city. Now it seemed they had a chance to discover the truth, though Vic didn’t want to play too much into Jackson’s hands until he had more background on the man himself.
“We are,” Vic nodded, playing along for the time being. “I’m Vic, and this is Blake. I wasn’t aware we had a tail.”
“You can blame the cloud for that,” Jackson grinned. “It makes moving around unseen a pretty easy task on these smaller streets. Probably the one advantage we have over the Authority right now. We can plan our attacks and execute them, to a point, without them knowing.”
“Do you know why the children are being rounded up?” Blake interjected, throwing his burning question out into the conversation in a hope of a response. It was clear to him that Jackson and his group had a lot of information that would be valuable to him and Vic. And despite his appearance, Blake didn’t see the man as a threat. He knew better than most that vulnerable men often hid behind huge muscles or large artillery. Something told him that was true for Jackson.
“You don’t know?” Jackson asked, genuine surprise in his voice as he tilted his head to one side. “Have you been living under a rock since all of this started?”
“Something like that,” Blake replied with a slight chuckle, pausing to allow Jackson a chance to explain.
“Well,” Jackson began, “let me spell it out for you.”
Blake and Vic listened silently as Jackson started to explain things, both men very quickly growing to realize that they could trust the friendly giant in front of them. Jackson told them how it hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours before the Authority—the name that had been given to the men and women in uniforms—started sweeping the city. They were rounding up all the children and keeping them separate from their parents and any other adults, the rumor being that it was part of a government-planned breeding facility.
“The air in Houston is toxic,” Jackson continued, “as I’m sure both of you are aware by now. The stories we have heard say that the Authority are gathering up our children so that once the toxicity levels in the city reach new heights and kill us all off, they will be safe. Then, once all of this has passed, they can start a new generation. One that will have lived through this disaster and be stronger because of it.”
Blake struggled to believe was he was hearing, though Jackson spoke with such eloquence and assurance that it was impossible not to trust him. The man spoke about his two sons who had been taken from him, forcibly removed from the house along with countless other children belonging to the other parents within his group. He explained how the majority of the adults within the city had resigned themselves to their fate—the iron fist that the Authority ruled with keeping them in line if they dared to speak out against it. But Jackson’s faction was speaking out, and they refused to be silenced.
After several minutes of conversation, Vic started sharing his secrets with Jackson and the others as well, the discussion growing and evolving further until Jackson quieted everyone, moving the group to an indoor base he had set up just a few streets over. Once inside the debate continued, the six of them joining several others as more information was passed down to the two previously clueless residents of Houston.
By the time the evening rolled in, Bla
ke and Vic were fully up to speed with what had happened inside the city and they were both completely and utterly repulsed by it all. It didn’t take much for them to become full-fledged members of Jackson’s party, all united by one goal: overthrowing the Authority and freeing the children. Together they had resources beyond what any individual could have expected and with that, they would find a way to take back what was theirs. Parents or not, Blake and Vic agreed that the children shouldn’t be kept prisoners. Everyone had a right to life and they were making it their job to guarantee that.
Chapter 7
When Mia woke the next morning, the first thing she saw was Jorge poring through papers in the exact same position he’d been in when she went to sleep. As expected, they’d been able to find a makeshift dorm room on the fracking site, clearly designed for when people were working night shifts and needed to rest their eyes for a couple of hours in between activities. A room similar to how Mia pictured a summer camp was set up, five single beds lining two walls, each with a small cabinet next to them and one large desk at the end farthest from the door.
That was where Jorge sat now. It looked like he had been there all night, the bed nearest to him still perfectly made as if he hadn’t slept in it at all. There were stacks of paper piled high on the desk next to him, gathered from throughout the site earlier the night before. Mia had taken him down to Professor Jacob Turner’s office and shown him what was there, Jorge scanning through the files like they were gold dust, selecting only those he thought were the most important. He’d done the same with the information that Marcus and Jesse had found about the government proceedings, scooping them all up in his arms and dumping them on the desk where he sat now.
The scientist barely even flinched as Mia climbed out of her bed and padded over to the pile of food they had collected. She picked up a can of soda and a dried fruit bar—both pillaged from a vending machine—and walked back to her bed to consume her breakfast. The can popped open with a fizz, but again Jorge hardly reacted. Mia could tell he was completely focused on whatever he was reading. She’d seen him get like this before back in the lab in Houston and knew it was best to leave him alone. She only hoped he had found what he was looking for by the time they were ready to leave.
Mia hadn’t changed her mind about that during the night—not that she had ever thought she would. She was determined to get back on the road as quickly as possible and continue driving toward Houston. She had already lost track of how many days had passed since Yellowstone erupted, she just knew it was too many. She wanted to see her parents again and she wanted to hold Chase and Riley in her arms.
“Uhhh,” Marcus groaned from the bed next to Mia’s, the young man waking and taking a moment to remember where he was. “Jeez,” he sat up holding his head, “I feel like I’ve got a hangover from all that sugar. How are you drinking that?” He pointed to the can of soda in Mia’s hand, making a face as he did so.
Mia laughed, recalling how the three guys had gorged themselves on sugary treats from the vending machines, as well as eating the makeshift dinner they managed to throw together. “Need it for the caffeine,” she remarked honestly. “I want to get back on the road as soon as we can.”
“Oh yeah,” Marcus nodded. “Are we heading straight out, then?”
Mia saw Marcus peer around her body and look at Jorge, his frame hunched away from the pair of them, obviously still able to overhear their conversation. A part of Mia felt sorry for him, but she had given her friend an ultimatum and, in the end, they had both agreed that she was right. It would be impossible for Jorge to do anything more with the information other than just tell the people they met. She couldn’t wait around for him to try and come up with a sudden solution to all their problems overnight.
“Yep,” Mia confirmed, Jesse and Jadon both stirring in their beds as she spoke, the conversation waking them too. “We’ll gather up what supplies we can from here and move out. The next part of the journey is going to take us even farther into the kill zone. I don’t know what we can expect to find there.”
“Sounds fun,” Jesse murmured from his bed. “From one disaster site to another we go.”
“I’m afraid that’s what life is going to be like for some time now,” Mia commented, knowing that Jesse was only making a joke yet wanting to be sure each of the three younger men were prepared for what they might find on the next leg of their journey. “You think what we’ve experienced so far has been bad. I’m just saying things can always get worse.”
“Such a cheerful tune to live by,” Jesse rolled his eyes, stumbling out of his bed and making his way out of the room. “I’m going to try and find somewhere to wash up.”
“Sorry about him,” Jadon smiled at Mia once Jesse was out of the room. “He’s not really a morning person.”
Mia laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone is entitled to feel that way after what’s happened here.”
“I guess,” Jadon shrugged. “He could still be nice about it though. You sleep well?”
“Yeah thanks,” Mia smiled. “You?”
Jadon nodded. “Not bad, actually. So are we heading out pretty soon?”
“Yeah,” Mia started, her sentence interrupted by the scraping of Jorge’s chair along the wooden floor. Everyone looked over at the Spaniard as he stood up from the desk, stacking a neat pile of papers together and slamming a stapler down on the top left-hand corner. He had clearly found everything he was looking for. “Morning,” Mia smiled as Jorge walked past her bed, the papers gripped in his hand. “You okay?”
Jorge looked up at Mia and nodded, not slowing his pace or opening his mouth to reply verbally. He was tired, but he wouldn’t admit that to anyone. He’d stolen maybe three hours of sleep through the night; mostly he had devoured the information in front of him, soaking up every single iota of evidence about the fracking site and its operations.
He had learned a great deal as well. In terms of the government funding for the site, he had uncovered that it was being hidden from those at the top. The money was supposed to be for an environmental protection site—built in the same place, used to rehabilitate injured or endangered animals from the nearby national park. What was actually happening there couldn’t be further from that, Jorge almost laughing at how many lives—human and animal—that would’ve been disrupted by the fracking plant.
But that was how it was working so close to Yellowstone, the government covering it up even from those in the same office. It only served as a reminder to Jorge about how corrupt the country had become. Even though he had taken his citizenship test and was regarded as an American, he didn’t see himself as one. Taking the test had just been a means to an end, a solution to make his life in Texas more straightforward.
Exiting the dorm room and finding a tall window that overlooked the site, Jorge took it all in and marveled at how they had gotten away with it for so long. It wasn’t a small operation by any means, giant drills and cranes filling the landscape as far as Jorge could see through the murky air. Another fresh layer of ash seemed to have landed outside overnight, covering everything with a sooty darkness and floating through the air on the wind. If it wasn’t so deadly, it could’ve been called beautiful. Jorge knew better than to refer to it like that. Millions of people across the country had already died because of it, with millions more to come. He wished he could tell everyone what he knew and give them the power to fight back, but as it stood, he was powerless.
“Hey,” Mia’s voice made Jorge jump, the woman creeping up behind him. “Wow. That’s a different view from yesterday.” The fresh layer of dark ash was impossible to avoid, encasing everything in gray like fossils that lay beyond the window. “Are you okay?”
“Morning,” Jorge replied. “Si. You?”
“Yeah,” Mia nodded. “Did you sleep at all last night? You look tired, Jorge.”
“I got a few hours,” Jorge shrugged. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?” Mia was concerned. As close as she and Jorge had come
to falling out the day before, she still cared about him a great deal. He was her friend and she didn’t want him to be upset or struggle with anything. She knew they needed each other more than they would ever admit and it felt like it was her job to be a sympathetic ear for her fellow scientist.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jorge waved an arm in Mia’s direction. He knew what she was trying to do, he just wasn’t in the mood for it. He was tired, he was hungry and he was fed up with living through a natural disaster. As much as Jorge wanted to hold the guilty party to account, he wanted everything to be over even more. “Honestly I’m fine, Mia,” he brushed her off. “Just come and get me when it’s time to go.”
With that, Jorge walked away from his companion, leaving Mia staring out of the window alone. She watched him go for a few seconds, a pang of hurt resonating through her chest as she thought about everything the two of them had been through already and how sad it would be to lose the genuine friendship they were beginning to form. Sniffing, she pushed those thoughts out of her head. She was an independent woman. Mia had been alone for a lot of her life and she knew how to manage on her own. She just had to buck up, look forward, and focus on what she was trying to achieve. Houston was her next stop and she was determined to make it.
Less than an hour later, the five of them were ready to leave the fracking site. They had pillaged the building for supplies, bringing with them all sorts of foodstuffs, bottles of water and other drinks, and other useful items like a box of headlamps, wind-up radios, and various other things. Mia knew they could never be completely prepared, but anything was better than nothing.
The best find had been deep in the basement of the building, near where one of the entrances to a drill was. Marcus found them during one last sweep of the place: a wall of filtration masks, designed to keep the dust and dirt from irritating the workers’ lungs as they dug up the ground. Each of them wore one now as they walked the short distance from the front of the building to the car. They all carried a spare too, along with many others which Mia had stuffed into a rucksack. The others probably didn’t realize the filtration masks could be the very thing that would keep them fighting on the rest of their journey.
Escaping Darkness (Book 4): The Fallout Page 5
