by LC Champlin
“It doesn’t mean she’s here, you know,” she reminded.
“I wager she is in a location nearer civilization. Perhaps she ventured to the East Coast, considering California’s chaotic state.”
“Was there anyone else we recognize?” Amanda whispered, looking up from the photo.
Bridges swiped to the next image. “Our friend from the Fortress.” Kenichi Oshiro grinned back at them.
“Given his resources, he may still be in San Francisco,” Albin mused, stroking his chin.
“So this is like a condo,” Amanda clarified. “These people have enough money to build their own bunkers, but they use this as a stopover point or perhaps a last resort . . . that’s also a resort.”
Bridges nodded, distracted. “Does this mean Ken betrayed us? That he’s dropped us into LOGOS’s hands?”
“That is the question,” Albin murmured. “He may be bringing us into play even as he thumbs his nose at LOGOS.”
Behrmann growled in frustration. “He didn’t give us enough to go on. We can’t know for sure.”
“How’d you find this?” Denver wondered. “If this place is so secret, it’s not like their profile pictures are up on the website.”
“Actually,” Behrmann responded, smiling down at her, “our security clearances allowed us into the staff area that Max entered. You know, where he gave us the ID cards. Marvin distracted the guy on duty while I located the guest register.”
Amanda pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t think our visitor cards would let us have free run like that.”
“They should not,” Albin confirmed. “The guards informed me of this and reset my security clearance from level four to level two.”
“Ken’s doing?” Amanda theorized.
“What do we do now?” Taylor asked, arms crossed. “Are we supposed to stay here where the bad guys live? Maybe that’s why they brought us here. This isn’t a hotel, it’s a prison.”
Everyone save Albin stared at her with varying levels of realization and outrage. She spoke the attorney’s conclusion.
“I suppose this isn’t a coincidence.” Bridges wore a small, weak smile. “But hey, maybe they did this out of the goodness of their hearts—Max did, I mean.”
The rancher had set their pass keys and given them the brochures. “I need to speak with Mr. Kingston.” Albin proceeded to the nearest telephone.
The others trailed him, except for Bridges, who remained frozen in place, confusion clouding his expression. He idly rubbed Judge’s neck as she watched the other humans.
Behrmann paused. “What’s wrong, Marvin?”
“I just don’t understand why they’re keeping us here. If they want to hold us hostage, can’t they just lock us up?” He mimed locking a manacle around his wrist. “Or kill us?”
“Well,” Amanda began, “it’s easier to keep people prisoner when they don’t know they’re prisoners.”
Telephone in hand, Albin paused to listen to her argument.
“They say the average person goes five places regularly. They might go on a trip now and then, but most of their life revolves around only a few places. If those locations are within a half hour to an hour’s drive, then a person’s average territory is about a hundred and twenty miles in diameter. It’s probably less, considering they travel only a few of the roads in that circle.” At the last word, she traced the shape in the air.
“Oh.” Bridges rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a good point. I don’t think I go even five places.”
“Now, what if someone told you you’re only allowed to go five places every week except for a few times a year for special occasions. And you had to stay within a hundred and twenty miles of home.”
“I’d be pissed! That’s like house arrest.”
“It’s all about choice.” Amanda smiled at her logic, which indeed proved her point impeccably.
Bridges brightened. “It’s like when you put an animal in a cage: it immediately wants to get out. Yet that same animal might spend its entire life in a tiny territory and never feel trapped.”
“I get that,” Behrmann agreed, “but why don’t they just kill us? They set a plague loose; they’re not exactly warmhearted.”
Albin began to dial the security desk. “Let us not question our blessings too closely.”
Chapter 61
Gilded Cage
Silent Running – Hidden Citizens
After three rings, the guard on duty connected Albin with Max Kingston.
“Albin, what can I do for you?”
“Hello, Mr. Kingston.” He placed the call on speakerphone. “We need to discuss transportation.”
“Yes, I’m working on that. I was just about to call you, actually. I have a friend who can help me swing it, but they won’t be able to do it for at least another four days. I know you’re in a yank to get home, but right now you maybe should just be glad you’ve got a safe place.” The tone made the words sound like a half jest, but the situation made them less casual.
“Can we meet outside, sir?”
“All right. I’ll see you there in five minutes. I’m in the area.”
As Albin strode toward the door, Behrmann, Bridges, and Judge swung in beside him. Amanda hesitated, looking at her children. No doubt she wondered which would prove less dangerous for them: remaining here in the possible prison, or exiting into the unknown of the surface. Would that he could offer them an answer.
“We’re coming.” The Musters trotted up to join them.
The six guests and their dog rode to the surface level in silence. No guards awaited them. Likely the security forces occupied concealed locations.
“We’ll stay in here,” Amanda decided, a compromise between going outside and remaining in the guest dorm.
The group emerged into the sunlight. Raising his hand to shield his eyes from the glare, Albin squinted up the road. A pickup truck rumbled toward them. It rolled to a halt several yards away, then Kingston exited. “How are you folks?” He wore an easy smile. “What can I do for you?”
“We have questions about the people who live in the bunker,” Behrmann announced before Albin could voice the thought.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything about them.” Kingston hooked his thumbs under his belt. “It’s not just because it’s a confidential lease. I really don’t know them. They come here with their own transportation, or with our driver. I don’t mingle with them. They pay plenty, so I don’t ask questions.”
“Meaning,” Albin replied, “you don’t know who actually runs the, shall we say, government of the bunker? You are more of the landlord?”
“You got it.”
“In that case, allow us to go into town on our own. Supply the vehicle and a driver to return it. With the Internet and telephone access you provided, I believe I can secure my own flight. I appreciate your loyalty to your contracts, as well as your hospitality. But please, allow us to take our leave.”
“Oh. Well . . .” Kingston scratched the back of his scalp, pushing his Stetson down on his brow. He straightened it. “I . . .”
“You can’t, can you.” Behrmann shoved her hands in her windbreaker pockets as she eyed him. “For some reason, you’re not allowed to let us out of here.”
“It’s not that!” He raised his hands. “I want to let you go. But—”
“Then let us go!” Bridges laughed, forcing a light-hearted tone.
“Ah, well, it’s the quarantine.” Not a smooth excuse, but his delivery left nothing to be desired in sincerity.
Albin lifted his chin. “It will be expired by the time we reach town.”
“The town you want to go to has a different quarantine period than Walden.”
“Then we’ll go back to Walden,” Amanda suggested as she emerged from the garage doorway. “We’ll use their airport.”
Albin placed his hand on her shoulder to still her. “Mr. Kingston”—he met the man’s wary gaze—“we know t
he identity of a few of the residents. One is Lexa Birk, with whom we have worked in the past.” Perhaps worked proved inaccurate; spoken with and received threats from described their interaction.
Kingston’s grimace spoke more than his words. “Like I say, be happy with your place here. You’ll get transportation out in about a week. I promise you that. And I promise if you stay here, you’ll be safe. Think about it: You’re living in a luxury condominium complex. There’s a resort across the hill.” He pointed over his shoulder. “There’s beautiful scenery. And most importantly, no one’s trying to eat you,” he chuckled.
“Like you, I too have duties, sir.” Albin stood straighter. “As much as I would enjoy leaving other people to solve my problems, or even waiting for my problems to vanish, I know that this will not happen. Problems ignored only grow. However, my colleagues may prefer to accept your suggestion.” Albin surveyed his companions. They had every right to remain here.
Behrmann opened her mouth, but Bridges cut her off: “I don’t like the idea of being a prisoner. A cage is still a cage.”
“Agreed,” confirmed the reporter.
Amanda approached, but the girls remained in the garage. “There’s no such thing as ‘safe’ anymore.”
Sighing, Kingston drummed his fingers on his belt. “I would like to let you leave, but my job was to bring you folks here and keep you safe. I’m supposed to keep you for a set number of days.” At last he spoke the truth.
Albin clasped his hands behind his back as if questioning a witness. “Who hired you?”
“Look, the people who pay the rent here often have me do errands for them. I was told there were people on an airplane and I should watch for them. If they left the airport, I was to verify their identities. If they matched what my client gave, I was to invite them to stay here and delay their leaving for at least a week.”
From the surrounding outbuildings, the guards in their blue flannel sauntered into view. They ranged about to form a loose perimeter. How far did the directive to keep the visitors safe extend? Perhaps leaving the shelter of the bunker would invalidate the offer of protection.
“I see.” Albin looked down for a moment, then met Kingston’s gaze. “Detain me here, but allow my colleagues to go to New York.”
“Well, I can’t do that either. You see, you were my client’s focus, but I was also told to bring your friends if they wanted. You can all go back to New York in a few days.” His grin attempted to calm them, but it caused the opposite response.
“Detaining someone against their will is kidnapping if you are not a member of the government,” Albin reminded him.
“I know, but in this new world we live in?” He shrugged. “And how am I supposed to keep you safe without keeping you here?” His mobile chimed. “Excuse me.” He withdrew it. His eyes narrowed at what he saw.
Behrmann stepped forward. “I don’t know who hired you, but Lexa Birk is an administrator in the organization that created the cannibal contagion.”
The guards tightened the perimeter, casual but pinning the civilians with their glares like sheepdogs holding a flock.
“I don’t know if it was her.” Kingston shook his head, glancing at the guards. “And those men are not under my control. They have jurisdiction in the bunker. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. I can’t guarantee your safety if you leave.” Another pointed look at the security forces conveyed the real meaning: he feared the men would use force on the civilians. No doubt he also feared that if he acted contrary to his client’s wishes, he would lose a very lucrative contract. Given the same situation, Albin would do likewise. Yet in the man’s eyes and in his frown of apology shone something more: a promise. Of what, though?
“I understand, Mr. Kingston.”
“Now, please relax and enjoy yourselves. If you want, I can take you over to the resort and maybe the kids can go swimming. There’s a pool. There’s a gym, too, and activities to keep you—”
“Distracted?” asked Behrmann.
“Comfortable.”
The guest locked stares with Kingston. The contest stretched on.
Overhead, a helicopter thrummed. It passed low, likely coming for a landing at the resort’s helipad.
The rancher glanced up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to welcome some more guests. And you have to decide what you’ll do next. By the way, have you familiarized yourself with the emergency exits? One of the tunnels leads to the helipad. It’s the route I’d take if I wanted to escape trouble.” Cunning glittered in his eyes. Why?
“It seems we have no choice.” With a nod, Albin stepped back. “Thank you for speaking with us, Mr. Kingston.”
Incredulous looks from his colleagues followed Albin as he strode back to the lift.
Chapter 62
Escape Plan
Set Your World on Fire – I Will Never Be the Same
When the door to the group’s quarters closed behind them, Behrmann drew a breath, likely for an objection. Albin raised his hand as he produced the map from his pocket. After unfolding it, he pointed to the escape / emergency exit and the helipad at its terminus.
Denver’s shoulders sagged as she frowned at her shoes. “I know the bad guys live here, or at least some of them do. And I know we’re not allowed to go, so we’re sort of prisoners. But it’s nice here. We haven’t even gotten to see the resort yet.”
The adults remained quiet for a moment.
Taylor fidgeted with the hem of her T-shirt. “I know it would be nice to stay here, but we have to do our job. I guess we’re supposed to find Nathan, and then we can go home. Or maybe we’re going to New York.”
Denver’s head bobbed. “Nathan and the scientists were trying to control the cannibals. Maybe we can still do that somehow. We can’t stop the bad guys by staying here, though.”
“Then it is unanimous?” Albin enquired.
Five affirmatives followed. Judge licked Bridges’s hand.
“But how?” the economist growled. “We’re stuck down here.” He flicked the map at their general location.
“The escape tunnel,” Behrmann responded. “Like Max said.”
Amanda heaved a resigned sigh. “We might as well leave as soon as we can.”
Behrmann held up her hand. “Wait, Albin, what about this transportation you’re arranging? Do we have a place to go? Even then, where are we going?”
“New York is still our best bet,” Bridges replied. “We can regroup once we get there.”
“We can at least contact the DHS there,” agreed the reporter.
“I’m going to go look at that escape tunnel.” Before anyone could speak, Bridges ducked out the door.
Behrmann hurried after. “I’m going too.”
Amanda half hugged herself, biting her thumbnail. Her gaze locked on the two girls.
Albin adjusted his glasses with thumb and ring finger. He should comfort her. Unfortunately, he could not guarantee a positive outcome. He moved to her side and placed an arm around her shoulders, lightly. She leaned into him a bit.
Patting her upper arm, he straightened. She cleared her throat as she brushed her hair from her eyes. “We have people depending on us.”
“Indeed.”
A few minutes later, Bridges and Behrmann returned. The economist’s downcast expression and the anger glowing in the reporter’s eyes revealed their mission’s failure.
“If you open the fire door,” Bridges related, “an alarm will sound, and everybody and their brother will come piling out to see what’s going on.”
Albin smiled, chill and calculating. “Then let us create an emergency.”
Bridges lowered his brows. “Like what?”
“You just said it,” Behrmann replied. “Fire.”
The economist gaped at them. “Set fire to a bunker that we’re inside of? I must be missing something.”
Amanda looked thoughtful. “I see what could be done. You just want to legitimately trip the al
arm.”
“Oh, I see. Like pulling a fire alarm but more realistic.”
“Precisely,” Albin confirmed.
Denver bounced from foot to foot. “But won’t they see us on the cameras? If we start to be a lot of trouble, they might not remember they’re supposed to protect us.”
Taylor, for once, agreed with her sister: “They might decide to protect us like we do with dogs: by shutting them in their crate.”
“I don’t want to be in a crate!”
“No one does,” Amanda responded, placing a hand on each of her girls. “But right now, we’re just in a bigger, more comfortable crate.”
Behrmann chewed her bottom lip. “It’s going to be difficult.”
“Marvin,” Albin began with exaggerated casualness, “do you happen to have any hair spray on hand?”
He assumed a longsuffering expression even as he passed a hand over his product-spiked hair. “Very amusing. And no. But I did see some in the store. It’s a vending machine-type setup. You swipe your ID card.”
“Any cigarette lighters?”
“No, but I did find some matches in the kitchen. Probably for lighting Yankee Candles or something.”
“Very good.” Albin gave a nod. “Everyone, gather what washroom towels and cloths you can, pack your things, and we shall be on our way.” He spoke with no emotion, though at the last words, his heart rate increased, and sweat slicked his palms. His mouth went dry. Fortunately he had nothing left to say.
“All right!” Bridges clapped his hands once. “Are we fired up and ready to go? Let’s make like Hogan’s Heroes and get out that escape tunnel.”
Chapter 63
Fire Alarm
Play With Fire – Sam Tinnesz featuring Yacht Money
With everyone prepared for their parts in the mission, Albin surveyed his companions. “Let’s begin.”
Amanda, the girls, and he departed first. They meandered toward the garden level. Then they split up, with Denver accompanying Albin, and Taylor joining her mother.
