“We’re here,” Monet said, pointing a finger at the middle of the screen. Red and green dots showed on other parts of the image, but nothing was anywhere near them. With her thumb and forefinger, Monet manipulated the display to zoom in on the colored dots.
“The green ones are the real worry,” Monet said, “and if you ever see them heading towards the middle of the screen in a straight line, then… well, then you need to be ready to destroy some drones.”
“How did you get hold of this?” Lina asked, taking the tablet and experimenting by copying the curious gesture with her two fingers and smiling as the display responded to her light touch.
“The Tracker your boyfriend shot up,” Monet said. “It must’ve been damaged or had the safety firewall protocols disarmed, because it gave us access to the drone network. Not just access to watch, but we can send orders through their network when the time comes. That’s a one-time thing, though – if they discovered we were inside their system, they’d shut us out and probably find a way of turning it against us.”
Most of her words passed over Lina’s head as though they were another language, but she understood the concept near enough.
“So that one Cole shot was damaged and now it’s like our spy?” she asked, totally missing the baited hook about Cole.
“You could say that,” Monet said. “But it’s more like it gave us the password for the enemy’s network. I doubt we’ll find out what Tom has in store for it until it happens. No doubt it will be beautiful.
“Anyway,” she said. “Bathroom is outside if you need it. I’m hoping whoever left the fire for us was kind enough to make a stew…” Monet stood, walking towards the corner of the room set aside as a kitchen as she added, “And don’t get used to that, Buddy.”
Lina looked up to see the coyote asleep on its side, body bent at an awkward angle in the middle, making the most uncomfortable position appear to be the perfect resting place.
A sharp, insistent vibration woke her. She sat up in the bed beside Monet with a gasp, taking a few panicked seconds to recall where she was.
The coyote curled up on the foot of the bed, slunk to the floor, and began to growl as though it sensed her mood.
“It’s okay,” Monet said. “It’s the tablet, hold on…” She squinted her eyes as the display lit up. After blinking twice, her eyes went wide and she threw the covers off. “We have to move, now!”
Lina threw on her pants and boots, and snatched up her pack and gun before running towards the door.
“What the hell are you doing?” Monet hissed at her. “Don’t go out there!” She waved her towards a rug near the sink and threw it away to expose a trap door, which she pulled up by a loop of rope. Dropping her bag through the opening, Monet pushed Lina inside and followed after her, pulling the door over them.
“Buddy,” Lina said.
“Sshh!” Monet hissed in a whisper. “Trust me, he’s the only one of us these things wouldn’t kill right now.”
Lina trusted that she was right, or at least she trusted her more than she wanted to go outside the safety of the hidden box seemingly created for this kind of occasion.
She heard the high-pitched whine of the Seeker drones before she’d managed to calm her breathing, listening as more than two of them buzzed round the cabin, causing Buddy to growl at the intrusion.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Monet whispered. “We’re here for the rest of the night. We’ll get moving after first light when we’re sure they’ve gone.”
Lina closed her eyes and concentrated on not making a sound. Somehow, eventually and with no idea how, she fell asleep. Monet woke her by creaking open the trapdoor and cursing at the coyote, who tried to lick at her face when she peered into the room.
“Grab the food and prepare to move,” Monet told her as she helped her out of the hiding spot. “We leave in ten minutes; we’ve got a lot of ground to cover and only three weeks to convince people to give up a peaceful life to fight with us.”
Chapter 8
Alec
The Jeep jarred suddenly, sending Alec’s skull hard against the headrest. He sat up in a hurry, scanning for signs of trouble. The road was dark, the headlights of the Jeep long off. The moon was high, the sky clear enough for them to see. Tom was in the driver’s seat, and he was cranking the steering wheel to pull the vehicle to the side of the road. It was bumpy, the vehicle making a terrible noise as it settled into the narrow ditch along an overgrown fence.
“Damn it!” Tom shouted.
“It was a deer. You had to avoid it. A flat’s better than a busted car,” Dex told Tom.
“I should have been going slower. It’s my fault,” Tom said, chiding himself.
“If you’d just let me drive, we wouldn’t have this problem. You’re overtired. I’m used to being on the road for days at a time,” Dex said.
“Enough. I drive, and that’s it. We’ll take a break, then change the tire. We could all use some sleep,” Tom told him.
“Tell you what. There’s a house a half mile behind us. You and the kid go there to rest, and I’ll change the tire,” Dex offered.
Tom narrowed his gaze at the man, and Alec felt the tension resonate through the cab of the utility vehicle. “I don’t think so. Thanks for the suggestion. We’ll all head to the house.”
“Grab our stuff, Alec,” Tom said, and Alec hopped out, passing the two older men the supplies.
“Why are we bringing it all?” Alec asked.
“You never leave gear behind,” the two men said at the same moment, though Tom said supplies instead of gear. Alec had to laugh.
“You two are a lot alike,” he told them, but that only caused his uncle to frown. His uncle. He was still attempting to process the idea. Not only that, but he’d had parents. He held a picture of them now. They were real people, and somehow, against all odds, he had a twin brother. He wished he could share this with Beth. But, like so many others since the Occupation, she was dead.
Dex grabbed his pack. “You don’t leave stuff behind. Someone will come along and take it. Our supplies keep us alive. Without weapons, or food and water, we die.” He turned on a boot heel and began walking away from the parked Jeep, returning down road.
“How far have we made it?” Alec asked Tom.
“Halfway there,” Tom said.
“Is that good?” Alec walked alongside the familiar man.
“It could be worse. We’ll change the tire in the morning light and be gone. I guess we’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. And then we can head to the coast.” Tom was limping, his breathing a little labored as they walked the short distance to the driveway.
A cow-shaped mailbox stood at the end with the flag up, and Alec tapped it with his knuckles as they passed it, moving for the house beyond.
“Why didn’t we head for the coast first? It sounds like that’s really important, and with the time pressure.”
“We’ll make it. We have to. This is important, though, son.” Tom’s hand found Alec’s shoulder, and he received a kind pat. It was a gesture he wasn’t accustomed to, and Alec nearly flinched from the contact.
“Why don’t you trust him?” Alec nodded his chin toward Dex, who was a good fifty yards ahead of them nearing the house.
“I think he’s a good soldier. Or could be. I’m only worried he changed too quickly. Once he leaves the safety of our enclave, he’s on his own, and it would be simpler to return to what he’s always done,” Tom said.
“Do you think he will? I don’t.”
“Good, then I’ll try to be optimistic with you.”
The house was dilapidated, the grass in the front yard halfway up Alec’s thigh. Yellow flowered weeds bloomed along the broken sidewalk, sending potent waves of scents at Alec, and he breathed through his mouth as they walked up the front porch.
“We should have slept in the car,” Tom suggested.
Dex knocked on the door. “Anyone home?” He turned towards them, smiling wide as he turned the door handle
.
“Very funny,” Tom said.
“Sleeping in the car is a good way to draw attention to yourself. Someone happens by, bam, you’re dead.” Dex slapped his hands together, the sound too loud to Alec in the crisp night air.
Once inside, Tom quickly shut the door behind him and brought out a flashlight. He used it to explore the living room, finding it mostly empty. Either the residents had been in the process of moving out or someone had ransacked the house after the invasion.
“This is good. Let’s get some rest. Who wants to be on first watch?” Tom asked.
“I’ll do it. I’ll wake Alec in a few,” Dex answered. He found a chair near the door and dragged it across the floor, the legs screeching in protest across the hardwood floors. He wiped the seat off and settled himself, facing the entrance.
“How many hours until daylight?” Alec asked.
“About five,” Tom said.
“I’d say closer to four and a half,” Dex advised.
Tom remained quiet, and Alec grinned to himself. Dex was an interesting character, even if he was used to working for the other side. It was kind of refreshing to be around someone so… alive. His disposition reminded Alec of Monet’s attitude towards life.
Tom took a couch, and Alec grabbed the flashlight, using the opportunity to explore the house quickly. It was a single story, and he stopped at the first bedroom, finding posters on the wall. He stepped inside, seeing it was a boy’s room. A baseball glove sat gathering dust in the center of the unmade bed, and a series of shiny trophies lined a bookcase. There were old paperbacks there, and Alec grabbed one, flipping through it.
What would life have been like for Alec and Cole if the Occupation hadn’t happened? Would they have lived in a home like this, played sports, read books, and had family dinners on Sunday nights? Monet had mentioned something about Christmas, a holiday in December where families gathered to celebrate while putting presents under a tree indoors. It made no sense to Alec, but he thought he was finding the tiniest glimpse of what it might have been like. Uncle Tom would come over, with the woman in the photographs, and break bread with them.
Alec slumped to the bed, suddenly too tired to think about it any longer. Wishes were dangerous.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep on the musty bedding.
It felt like he’d only just dozed off when he was shaken awake. “Kid, time to roll.”
“Already? Is it my shift?” Alec asked, sitting up and wiping his eyes, but he realized it wasn’t by the beginnings of dawn creeping through the blinds.
“Nope. We’re leaving,” Dex said.
“Thank you,” Alec told the man, following him through the house and outside. Tom was already waiting, and he passed a brief smile to Alec in the dim light.
“Good sleep?” Tom asked.
“Better than the back of the Jeep. You?”
“Good enough to get me through the day, that’s for sure. I could use a cup of coffee. Know any good spots, Dexter?” Tom asked. Alec was glad some of the ice seemed to have melted off his uncle during the night.
“Haven’t had a good cup in ten years or so, if I’m being honest. Think the bastards really cheaped out. Wouldn’t be surprised to learn they’re manufacturing it with dirt.” Dex slung his pack over his shoulder, and they started for the road.
The sound of an engine roared toward them, carrying some distance in the morning air. Tom urged Alec toward the trees, and he obliged.
“Someone’s coming,” he said in Alec’s ear, and they watched as an old truck slowed on the sideroad they’d parked the Jeep. He waved them forward, closer to the Jeep, which Alec spotted a couple of hundred yards through the narrow copse of trees.
“Who are they?” Alec asked.
“Might be Hunters,” Dex said.
The truck pulled up beside the Jeep, and the three of them crouched, staying hidden in the forest.
Alec watched as a thick man in a denim vest and tattoos covering his arms climbed from the driver’s seat, closing the door loudly. A woman rounded the vehicle, jogging over to the Jeep. She had a short mohawk, the sides of her head shaved. Even from here, Alec spotted the gun on her hip and the rifle in the man’s grip.
“Have we seen this before?” the man asked, his voice gruff and carrying quite some distance.
“We ain’t ever been here before, Sal,” the woman said.
“Those are definitely Hunters. I’ve heard of this duo,” Dex whispered. “Sal and Diane. They usually run in the Pacific Northwest. Not sure what the hell they’re doing all this way east.”
Tom raised a finger to his lips and frowned at Dex. Tom was holding a gun, and Alec suspected the aging man would be able to kill at least one of the Hunters before they knew what hit them. But the way he was watching Dex from the corner of his eye told Alec the man was still suspicious of Dex’s loyalties.
“Check the engine. Is it hot?” Sal asked.
“Jesus. Check it yourself,” Diane told him. “Always ordering me around. Like I ain’t got better things to do than check old broken-down cars on the roads before I eat breakfast.”
She may have complained, but she still walked over to the Jeep and placed her palm on the hood. “Cold. See here, the tire’s blown. Even if this was new, they would have left this. I bet they’re dead.”
“Everyone is. Fine. Hop in. I don’t understand why they have us combing this damned state anyways. All this for a couple runaways. Damn Roamers.” Sal left the Jeep door open after poking his head inside and sifting through the compartments. Alec noticed how Tom had instinctively left nothing of value inside.
“Them Hunters is missing too,” Diane barked.
“Sure. You ask me, them three ran off on a love triangle type scenario.” Sal’s laughter turned to coughing and he folded over, eventually rising to wipe his face with the back of his tattooed forearm.
“You’re sick, you know that?”
The truck door slammed shut again, and Diane stood near the vehicle, scanning the trees. Her gaze shifted directly at them, and Tom pushed Alec down. She couldn’t have seen anything, because as Alec spat out a mouthful of pine needles, the truck roared away, continuing along its path.
“That was close,” Dex said. He reached under Alec’s armpit and helped haul him to his feet.
“Too close. We have to change that tire. Good thing they didn’t take the spare,” Tom said.
“Their truck has those solid ones. They wouldn’t bother,” Dex told them, and Tom only nodded. They moved to the edge of the trees, and Tom made them wait at least five minutes, until the line of dust had settled along the dirt road.
“We’d better hurry this up. Those two are dummies, but if they happen to call this one in, they’ll at least send a couple of the Seekers to investigate,” Dex said, running for the side of the Jeep. A minute later, he was jacking the vehicle up, and Alec did his best to assist the ex-Hunter.
The day was only beginning and already Alec’s nerves were fried.
Chapter 9
Cole
In spite of Soares’ assurances, Cole didn’t like it. Not one bit.
They’d traveled north for half a day before stopping at some nondescript barn that appeared just as abandoned as the rest of the country did, but inside was a whole world away from the external appearance.
“You ever see a quad bike?” the old soldier asked with a wry smile. Cole hadn’t, and he guessed Soares knew as much and was goading him to see how he responded. Cole had always stayed away from any kind of transport, and the few vehicles he’d ever seen hadn’t lasted long because they attracted too much attention.
Survival, in his experience, was quiet and slow.
“It has an automatic transmission,” Soares explained as he unstrapped his own pack and lashed it to the rack on the back of his squat four-wheeler. He followed the pack with his rifle, resting it into a cradle over the handlebars. Cole copied him, keeping half an eye on what the older man was doing. Soares walked over and showed him
the basics.
“Twist to go faster,” he said, pointing at the right-hand grip before tapping a red plastic key and saying, “On and off.” Cole nodded his understanding.
“Press this to slow down,” Soares said, his finger moving to indicate a metal pedal where his right foot would go. “That’s it. Easy.”
Cole wasn’t sure anything would be easy, least of all how these engines would avoid being detected by the Hunters, Seekers, and Trackers. As if reading his thoughts, Soares flicked the switch on his own quad to fill the barn with a ticking noise before the engine barked and settled to a rattling crackle.
“They’re muffled,” he explained. “Don’t ask me what they’ve done because I have no clue, but trust me, they aren’t detectable.” Cole shrugged, as if believing it made no difference because the proof would be in the pudding, and no amount of “I told you so” would save them from a hovercraft.
Soares killed his engine before walking over to Cole’s and starting it to let it run for half a minute before turning it off and slapping the young man lightly on the back.
“Take a load off for a while,” he said. “We’ll head to the road when it’s dark.”
“It’s safe to travel on the road?”
“Trust me, there hasn’t been much sign of the Occupation on this route for years.” Cole smiled to himself at the mention of those words again. He hadn’t depended on anyone in a long time, and of those he had trusted, it was the coyote who’d showed him loyalty. If he thought deeper about that, he would have been able to voice his feelings about Tom falling into that category too.
“Even so,” Soares said, demonstrating that he was no fool, “when we near Chicago, we’ll go in on foot from maybe fifty miles out. No sense in pushing our luck, right?” Cole smiled but remained silent.
“I still don’t see how it’s safe to run engines,” Cole grumbled, not letting it go. Soares sighed with an air of smugness and reached into a pouch on his vest to pull out a small tablet and hand it to Cole.
Salvation (Rise Book 2) Page 6
