“Hide the pickup truck as well as you can,” Sam said. “If they find it, they’ll know we’re not really heading for Mexico.”
Dodge nodded and disappeared with Tyler back toward the tunnel.
Vienna shivered suddenly and violently.
Sam looked around. There was a campfire about ten yards away, and he would have liked to move Vienna closer to it, but it was already crowded with people trying to make the most of the warmth.
He took off his own jacket and laid it over her as a blanket.
The young mother with the two children and the grandmother were next to him. The two women were sitting facing each other, the children between them.
Both children were crying now, and he caught the word “hungry” in between the sobs.
He found a packet of Oreos in the box of food Dodge had carried in and picked up a bottle of water as well. He shuffled across to the small group and tapped the younger of the two women on the shoulder.
“Some water and some cookies, for your kids,” he said. “It’s not much, but—”
His next words were cut off as the young woman reached up and hugged him, sobbing at the same time.
She eventually let go, mumbled a thank-you, and took the items.
The older lady smiled at him, and he looked away, a little embarrassed. All he had done was give them cookies and some water.
Vienna began to cough, started choking, then hoicked up a gray mess of phlegm and grit. Her eyes fluttered for a moment, then closed. Her weight slumped against him, and he held her for a moment before gently easing her to the ground.
He found an old newspaper in a trash can and cleaned up the mess, then washed his hands carefully in one of the washrooms. The last thing he needed was a dose of radiation poisoning; he didn’t want to even think about what that dust was doing to Vienna’s lungs.
When he got back, the grandmother was hovering over Vienna, looking concerned. She pulled back one of Vienna’s eyelids and examined her pupil.
“What happened to her?” she asked.
“She”—Sam hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much—“swallowed some dust.”
“Dust?” The woman looked at him suspiciously.
“We came through Vegas,” Sam finally admitted.
“Vegas dust!” The woman looked shocked and said, “I’m a nurse, or I was for most of my life. Are you telling me you went through Vegas without protective clothing?”
She seemed angry at their stupidity.
“We had suits and masks,” Sam said. “But she lost hers. It was an accident.”
Her gaze softened. “I’m Olivia,” she said. “This is my daughter-in-law, Brenda.”
The young mother smiled at him, hugging her two children tightly to her.
“Is there anything we can do for her?” Sam asked.
Olivia lowered her gaze and stroked Vienna gently across the forehead.
“Is she important to you?” she asked.
Sam hesitated, then nodded. A week ago, he would have said no, but things had changed. She had changed.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia said, stroking Vienna’s forehead again. “The dust will have seared her lungs and poisoned her system. You need to get her to a hospital as soon as possible, but even then—” She broke off, clearly not wanting to say any more.
Brenda and the two children shuffled a little closer so that the two groups became one.
“That was very kind of you, with the cookies,” Brenda said.
“It was nothing,” Sam said. “Really nothing. We have more supplies in the car. Would you like something else?”
He pushed the box over toward her, and with just a small hesitation, she looked inside and took a couple of muesli bars, which she handed to her children.
“Eat something yourself,” Sam said. “I insist. You, too, Olivia.”
Brenda hesitated again, then took a foil packet of dried apricots, which she shared with her mother-in-law.
“I’m sorry to be so helpless,” Brenda said. “But we didn’t have time to pack or grab supplies.”
“We didn’t have time to think,” Olivia added. “We just ran.”
“Why?” Sam asked.
“Brenda and the kids were staying with me,” Olivia said. “In Phoenix. My husband got infected. We just managed to get away in time.”
“Infected?” Sam asked cautiously.
Olivia and Brenda looked at each other.
“With the neuro-virus,” Brenda said. “You do know about the neuro-virus?”
We started it, Sam wanted to say but didn’t think it wise. He said, “We’ve been out of contact for a few weeks. What’s going on?”
“There’s a virus,” Olivia said. “It spreads through neuro-connections. People go crazy.”
“Crazy like …?”
“Oh, they still seem perfectly fine,” Brenda said. “Just the same person as before, but they …”
“Tim, my husband, came to me this morning and suggested that I try out his neuro-headset,” Olivia said. “I had heard stories of the virus, so of course I refused. I didn’t even know that he was using one. But when I refused, he insisted, and when I still refused, he got angry. Called me a neuro-phobe. I’d never seen him like that. I told him there was no way, and he grabbed me. Tried to force the headset on my head. I screamed and that woke up Brenda, and she—”
“I whacked him with a stroller,” Brenda said. “It was the first thing on hand. It was sitting by the door, folded up. I just grabbed it and swung it. Knocked him right out.”
“Then there was banging on the front door,” Olivia said. “It was our neighbors, and they were wearing those neuro-caps. Somehow they knew what was going on in our house. We grabbed the kids and fled out the back door to the garage, jumped in the wagon, and just drove.”
“And here we are,” Brenda said.
“I can’t imagine why Tim would have put on a neuro-headset,” Olivia said sadly. “With all the talk of a virus.”
“But all the news stations are saying that it was just a hoax,” Brenda said. “He must have believed them.”
Olivia shook her head and tears welled up in her eyes.
“It’ll be all right,” Sam said, feeling desperately sorry for her.
“I don’t think it will,” Olivia said. “They’re talking about battles on the streets of Washington. Can you believe it? Soldiers with guns, neuros, shooting at other soldiers. It’s a war.”
“A civil war,” Brenda said.
“There’s been nothing about that on the news,” Sam said. “We’ve had the radio on the whole way, since Kingman.”
“Of course not,” Olivia said. “The television and radio stations are all run by neuros. I heard that there’s one station, Resistance Radio, running out of Wichita, but the others have all been neurolized.”
Neurolized, Sam thought. There was even a word for it now.
“Is that where you’re heading?” he asked.
Brenda nodded. “That’s where most of the refugees are going. There are big refugee shelters being set up there.”
“Trust me,” Sam said. “It is going to be all right. I can’t tell you why, but there is a cure for the virus, and it’s going to happen soon.”
Olivia looked at him suspiciously. “How do you know that?”
“I can’t say,” Sam said.
Dodge and Tyler were back not long after that and brought blankets and fresh food with them. Sam wondered where they had found it all but didn’t ask.
They shared fruit and bread with Brenda and Olivia, along with cartons of orange juice.
Hot coffee would have been nice, Sam thought, but the blankets were very welcome anyway.
“What kind of car did you get?” he asked Dodge, but Dodge shook his head and laughed.
“It’s fast,” was all he said.
52 | THE BORDER
“Checkpoint up ahead,” Sam said, and his heart began to hammer in his chest.
The rain had eased back to occasional squalls, and large
patches of blue were beginning to show through the cloud cover. Clear sky meant satellite coverage, but Ursula didn’t know about the new car yet, did she?
Dodge looked up from his computer and gazed out through the windshield.
“Damn,” he said.
Vienna sat forward in the backseat, clearing her throat constantly. She had perked up a lot overnight, although Sam didn’t know if the damage that had already been done could be reversed.
Tyler was driving the car, a low-slung Ford Shelby GT500. It was white with two huge red stripes that ran from the front across the roof and down the trunk of the car. Dodge had been right. The car was fast. Although with all the refugee traffic, there was no chance to prove it.
The powerful engine, ready to growl, just purred softly as they neared the checkpoint.
Two huge tanks sat on a freeway overpass in front of them, and below that, a group of soldiers was manning a temporary barrier arm.
Men with guns were checking every vehicle before allowing them to continue.
“Turn around,” Sam said.
“I can’t,” Tyler said. “There are no off-ramps.”
“Then just turn around right here,” Sam said. “Get us out of this somehow.”
He looked around them. The roads were choked with traffic.
“We can’t get caught now,” Dodge said. “We’re so close.”
“That barrier looks pretty flimsy to me,” Tyler said. “As soon as the car in front takes off, I’ll floor it. Duck down in case they start firing, and we’ll try and make it around the next bend before the tanks can swing around and take us out.”
“Any chance the soldiers are non-neuros?”
Dodge peered ahead, trying to see. “Can’t tell,” he said. “Neuro-headsets could be built into their helmets.”
“Get ready,” Tyler said.
In front of them was the white station wagon of Olivia and Brenda. They had left the stadium together. Bonded by circumstances.
The wagon slowed at the barrier.
Hurry up. Go through, Sam thought. They couldn’t crash through the barrier while there was still a car in front of them.
They never got the chance to try. A soldier standing beside the white station wagon glanced back at the Shelby, perhaps admiring the lines. He took one look at Tyler and his eyes widened. He peered at Dodge, then at Sam and Vienna in the backseat.
He quickly took a step backward, raising his rifle toward the car.
His other hand moved to his radio. “We’ve found them,” he said.
There was no opportunity for escape. In seconds, the car was surrounded by armed soldiers who made them all get out of the vehicle and kneel down in the roadway, covering them with their weapons while one of the soldiers moved the Shelby to the side of the road. Vienna was the only exception. She sat on the road, leaning forward, breathing heavily with her head in her lap.
Sam saw Olivia’s horrified eyes peering from the station wagon in front; then the car was gone, through the barriers and into Colorado. What must they think? he wondered.
Another soldier appeared from the overpass and approached.
“Arthur Dodgerson, Vienna Smith, and Sam Wilson?” the man asked.
Sam nodded. There was no point in denying it. Next, out would come the neuro-headsets. Then Ursula would have them in her clutches.
But the man extended a hand. “I’m Lieutenant Blair Wheeler, National Guard. A lot of people have been looking for you.” He turned to Tyler. “Special Agent Tyler?”
Tyler nodded.
“Follow me,” Wheeler said, and to Sam’s surprise, with a quick nod from Wheeler, the guns disappeared.
The soldiers had a command post in a small cafe just off the freeway, and Wheeler led them there. The walls were covered with maps on which lines and numbers were marked in heavy black ink.
Wheeler indicated that they should sit. “The neuros want you badly,” Wheeler said. “They’re searching for you everywhere. And if they want you that badly, then we want you just as badly. To stop them getting their hands on you. Any idea why?”
Sam looked at Dodge; then they both looked at Vienna.
“Tell them,” Tyler said. “They’re on our side.”
“Okay,” Sam said finally, and looked at Wheeler. “Do you know what is behind all this? The neuros? The war?”
“Some kind of virus,” Wheeler said. “That’s what they tell us. A neuro-virus spreads through the headsets, turns the users into zombies or mutants, something like that.”
“Something like that,” Dodge echoed.
“Not quite so dramatic,” Sam said. “But the story about the virus is … Well, it’s close enough to the truth.”
“So why have the neuros got their panties in such a bunch about you?” Wheeler asked.
“We’ve got the cure,” Sam said.
Wheeler looked around sharply. “You serious, boy?”
“He is,” Tyler said.
Sam said, “We’ve got a kind of antidote for it. A … software program. If we can get it out into the Internet, I think we can kill the … neuro-virus … and stop the fighting.”
He left out the part about knocking the world back to the Stone Age. About destroying the world’s computer networks, possibly forever.
“You’ve got the cure. And the neuros are trying to stop you.” Wheeler considered that. “You’re telling me that this disease don’t wanna be cured.”
“It’s a little more complex than that,” Dodge said. “But you’re basically right.”
“So why not just do it now?” Wheeler asked. “I can get you to an Internet connection just up the road.”
“No,” Dodge said. “The moment she—I mean the neuros—detect us on the Net, they’ll come after us with everything they’ve got. We need to go somewhere safe, secure, before we unleash it. Somewhere they can’t get to us.”
Wheeler looked at them closely. Vienna coughed weakly.
“Cheyenne Mountain,” Wheeler said. “That’s where you’re headed, ain’t it?” He nodded. “Makes sense. I’ll alert General Jackson up at Fort Carson. Tell him to activate his Emergency Response Plan and set up a defensive perimeter around Colorado Springs.”
He turned to one of the big maps on the wall.
“For all intents and purposes, we are in the middle of a civil war,” Wheeler said. “It exploded out of nowhere over the last week or so. Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska, and Iowa are pretty much ours. Some small pockets of neuros are holed up here and there, but they’re a nuisance rather than a threat. New Mexico and Oklahoma are still okay. Alaska is holding out, so are both Dakotas and both Carolinas, although North Carolina is under heavy attack from Virginia. Other than that, the country is neuro. Not everyone, of course, but the local government and the military, and that’s what really matters. The rest of the population are getting neurolized as fast as the neuros can process them. Stick a neuro-headset on your best friend, and he’s suddenly your worst enemy. The navy was very slow to take up neuro, so we got them on our side, although they can’t help us much here. Air force has gone the other way, all neuro. There’ve been some big battles, navy jets versus air force.”
“Who’s winning?” Sam asked.
“It’s about even,” Wheeler said grimly.
A soldier entered and saluted, then handed Wheeler a note. He read it quickly.
“Get it out of sight,” he said to the soldier, then screwed up the note and tossed it into a wastepaper basket.
The man left.
“The neuros have just broadcast a description of your Shelby. But no problem—we’ll hide it in the forest and give you one of our Humvees,” Wheeler said, and added, “They’re armored.”
A quiet, raspy sound came out of Vienna, who had not yet spoken, and Wheeler seemed surprised to find that she actually had a voice. “No,” she said.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.
“They’ll have the Shelby on satellite by now. They already know where we are. They’re already o
n their way.”
“What are you suggesting?” Dodge asked.
She coughed again and asked, “How long is it from here to Cheyenne?”
“Two, two and half hours,” Wheeler answered. “Two if you hurry.”
Vienna nodded. “I’ll take the Shelby. Head east, toward Kansas, Wichita, where the headquarters of the resistance is. They’ll think that’s where we’re going. It’ll buy you some time. Maybe an hour. Maybe two if we’re lucky.”
Dodge said, “No, Vienna, that’s suicide.”
She laughed but the laughing turned into a fit of choking and coughing, and it was a moment before she could speak. “We’re all going to die sometime,” she said.
Sam looked at the floor. He knew exactly what she meant, and so did the others.
“No,” Tyler said.
“It’ll buy you some time,” Vienna repeated.
“I know,” Tyler said. “But you’re not well enough to drive. Certainly not fast.”
“But—”
“But nothing,” Tyler said, his eyes narrowed. “It’s a good plan, and probably our only hope, but you’re not the person to do it. You’re just not well enough. I’ll drive the Shelby.”
Vienna began to protest, but it turned into another coughing fit, and she collapsed back in her chair.
“Get her to a hospital,” Sam said to Wheeler. “She inhaled the dust in Vegas. See what they can do for her.”
Wheeler looked grave but nodded.
“Grab your stuff out of the Shelby,” Tyler said. “I’m gonna make tracks.”
“Tyler—” Dodge started.
“Don’t argue with me, Dodge,” Tyler said. “There’s no time, and you know it.”
“Thanks, Tyler,” Sam said, shaking his hand. “I …” He stopped, unsure of what to say.
“Don’t get dead,” Dodge said. “I’ll see you on the other side of this.”
Tyler grinned and ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back. “See you on the flip side.”
He is a cool guy, Sam thought.
He walked over and kneeled down in front of Vienna as Tyler left. Her eyes were closed, but she opened them.
“Get out of here,” she rasped.
“We’re about to leave,” Sam said, picking up one of her hands with his. It felt limp and cold. “They’ll get you to a hospital. You’re going to be okay.”
Brain Jack Page 24
