Dead Drop Series (Book 1): Dead Drop (Rise of the Elites)

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Dead Drop Series (Book 1): Dead Drop (Rise of the Elites) Page 3

by K. S. Black

* * *

  By late afternoon, Cooper was on I-10 outside of Phoenix and on his way to northern California. Fuel wasn’t going to be a problem. With the three, ten-pound propane tanks, he could drive three thousand miles. But he worried about being so visible, considering the circumstances. His biggest issue was going to be getting Shannon to agree that she and Hayley should come back to Tucson with him.

  He made three stops in Tucson, a stop in Casa Grande and three additional stops in Phoenix. A year earlier, he had sent instructions and maps via snail mail to anyone interested in participating in an experimental communication method he had read about called dead drops, a term borrowed from a method of espionage communication. Flash drives were discreetly cemented into crevices in walls or the trunks of trees so they couldn’t be removed. Ravens could literally plug in to retrieve information via their smartphones or laptops.

  Participants had agreed to follow an honor code and promised not to share information outside of their trusted family and friends’ network. To his surprise, almost one thousand active dead drops had been used to successfully pass information across the U.S. and parts of Canada. Sometimes it took two or three months but every trial run had proved one hundred percent successful. Each time a message was received and passed on, he received a snail mail notification.

  At each stop on his way north, he downloaded information about Rapture, along with instructions about how to keep from catching the virus—fingers crossed that the system would continue to work.

  * * *

  As he drove, he heard soft growls and whines coming from the crate in the back seat. He turned his head to see why. The twelve week old, black phase wolf-hybrid was gnawing on a rubber bone. He patted himself on the back for choosing a pup with a good temperament.

  When he had called a few days ago, all the pups had been sold, but today he had his pick of the litter. The pup he had chosen had a calm demeanor that Cooper found especially appealing. The fact that the pup was pure black and the most robust out of his littermates sealed the deal. From the looks of the mother and father, this pup was going to be huge. The bigger the better.

  He placed a zip-lock bag of bite-sized, raw beef cubes that the breeders had given him into a cooler next the stew meat he had pulled from his freezer before he left home. Unlike a dog, his wolf-hybrid would be eating real meat and offal, not dog food.

  Hayley would be excited. Shannon, on the other hand, would have complaints, but he didn’t care. Not this time. He had wanted a wolf-hybrid for quite a while and had plans for this one. Especially now.

  * * *

  West of Phoenix, past the North Citrus Road exit, Cooper got his first glimpse of a black Mine Resistant Ambush Protected (MRAP) vehicle with gun ports that some Ravens had described in their messages. This one had Homeland Security painted in big white letters across its side. The images on the internet hadn’t prepared him for how intimidating the vehicles would be up close. Three tan MRAPs, two with gun turrets and one with an array of antennas, stopped behind the black one. They formed a line to block off the next exit.

  The Perryville Prison Complex was not far from the exit. He turned the radios on and set them to scan. Within seconds, he heard voices talking about him—asking about his unit and where he was heading.

  What was Homeland Security doing at the prison? He hoped he’d hear the answer before he drove out of range. No such luck.

  Almost fifty miles outside the Phoenix metro area, he could hear his new companion whining and moving around in the crate. He pulled off at the next exit and parked in a Burger King parking lot. He set the pup down on a small patch of dirt. The small ball of fuzz turned around and around before relieving himself.

  When he reached into the Humvee for a jug of water and the bag of meat from the cooler, the sun was starting to set. He plopped five meat cubes into one of the bowls and poured water into the other. The puppy gulped down his dinner and sniffed around for more. Not finding anything, he lapped furiously at the water until that bowl was empty, too.

  “Sorry buddy. That’s all for now.” He let the puppy walk around. His thoughts went to Shannon and Hayley until the sound of trucks distracted him. He looked towards the exit he had just come from and spotted a convoy driving across the I-10 overpass. The glare from the setting sun offset the Homeland Security decals on the SUVs and MRAP vehicles. The black semi-trucks at the tail end had no decals or license plates.

  A small group of people began to gather near him.

  “Must be trouble at Lewis,” an old man wearing a red plaid shirt said.

  “Lewis?”

  “Yeah, the prison off 85, not far from here. I worked at the Days Inn, just up the road. There was a standoff back in oh-four. Fifteen days. Made the national news. Some prisoners took two guards hostage. We saw military trucks come through here like they did just now. Something real bad must be going on again.”

  Goose bumps rose on Cooper’s skin. He scooped the pup into his arms and put him into the crate.

  “The military took care of things last time, and they’ll take care of things again,” the old man said.

  When Cooper got in the Humvee and started the engine, the radios came to life. He rolled down his window and motioned for the old man to come over. The man leaned his head to the side and listened to the military chatter:

  “Perryville, secured. ETA Lewis 10 mike—over.”

  “10 mike–over.”

  “Lewis is a go. Go hot, resistance probable—out.” Click. Click.

  “Damn,” the old man said.

  Cooper looked him in the eyes. “Go home. Tell everyone to do the same. You don’t want to be around here when the shit hits the fan. And make sure you have extra food and water.”

  He drove past the exit for I-85. Four Homeland Security trucks had already blocked off the ramp. The rest of the convoy must have been heading south toward Lewis.

  * * *

  Six hours of surprisingly heavy traffic and three pit stops later for his small companion, he was finally heading north on I-5, a dark stretch of nothing but farmland. His cell phone rang. The screen on the dash board illuminated the phone number and name. He pushed a button on the steering wheel to answer. “Hayley!”

  “Hi Dad! Where are you?”

  “I’m in California, outside of L.A. I had to make a few stops. Traffic is pretty bad with people trying to head out of the city. You told your mom I was coming, right?”

  “Yeah. The guest room is all ready for you. When are you going to get here?”

  “I should be there tomorrow sometime. I’ll try to check in with you every few hours if I can get through. Is your mom at work?”

  “Yep. Emma from next door is here. Her husband’s out of town, so we’re keeping each other company. Mom should be home around lunch time.”

  “Good. You stay inside with Emma and don’t open the door for anyone. Make sure the security system is armed. See you soon, kiddo. I love you.”

  CHAPTER 4

  May 5 – Rohnert Park, CA

  At 5:30 a.m., Shannon pushed the door open with her butt and backed out of the OR holding a tray of clean surgical instruments. All non-emergency surgeries had been cancelled just after she arrived for work. She entered the prep room and carefully placed each of the surgical implements inside a stainless steel container. The tech who usually did this hadn’t shown up for work.

  She was worried that she hadn’t been able to reach her parents who had been vacationing with relatives in Mexico City. She was about to pull her phone out of her pocket when Dr. McKenzie poked his head in the room, his brows pinched together. “Have you seen Dr. Tomaso?”

  “He left about fifteen minutes ago. But I heard him say that he was going to his office.”

  “Thanks—I’ll check there.” He paused for a moment. “You have a daughter right?” Before she could answer, he said, “I remember her, smart kid. Big brown eyes. She looks just like you.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a flat-fold style surgical mask. Don’t leav
e this room without this on. Go to the supply room and take a box of disposable masks home.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I think we’re going to have a big problem. I suggest you go home as soon as you can. There’s nothing for you to do right now. I’ll make sure you get signed out. I have to go,” he said and started back to his office leaving her with unanswered questions.

  Shannon bumped into another nurse, whose first name she couldn’t remember, as she stepped from the supply room into the hallway.

  “What’s with the mask? Are you feeling sick?”

  She pulled the mask down to speak. “Dr. McKenzie suggested I put one on. Here you should probably put one on too.” She held out a disposable mask. “I don’t know how much it’s going to help, but it’s all we have. From the look on Dr. McKenzie’s face it must be something bad, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

  “I heard some interns talking in the break room. They said about a dozen people with the flu were admitted this morning. They’re isolating all of them on the second floor. But I haven’t heard anything else. I got here about a half hour ago. I’m sure I’ll find out more. I’ll talk to you later,” she said as she put on the mask.

  Shannon remembered the email she received from Cooper on her smartphone a few hours ago. Distracted, she almost bumped into Dr. McKenzie as she headed towards her locker to retrieve her purse. He stepped out of his office with Dr. Tomaso. He nodded, his face covered with a surgical mask, and walked past her. Both doctors were former Army Reserve trauma surgeons in Iraq. She had never seen anything faze them.

  “Why are you still here?” Dr. McKenzie asked. “You should be on your way home.”

  “You know more than you’re telling. I want to know exactly what’s happening.”

  “I don’t want to start a panic, so keep your voice down.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. “The first patient came in two days ago, a thirty-five-year-old male. He presented with flu-like symptoms. Within an hour, he was in a coma with an elevated temp of a hundred and four. The patient had mentioned he had a stomach bug last week, so the admitting doc thought his immune system might have already been compromised.”

  The doctor took a deep breath. “His temperature wouldn’t budge with meds or ice bath immersions. The orderlies had to put restraints on him because he got violent. He was thrashing around and grabbed one of the nurses by the throat. Nearly choked her to death.”

  She reflexively put her hand to her throat.

  “These are not the kind of flu symptoms we usually see, so the admitting doc sent an image of the patient’s blood to a friend at the CDC who said they were getting calls and samples from all over the country. The CDC confirmed that what we’re seeing is a new virus—very nasty and highly likely that it’s manmade. A strain of avian flu that we’ve never seen before. It started out similar to the Spanish Flu, but it’s mutating. Unofficially, they’re calling it the Rapture virus, for obvious reasons.

  “What happened to the patient?”

  “He died three hours ago with a temp of a hundred and six. About a dozen more patients with the same symptoms were admitted this morning. I think this is the beginning of a major pandemic. Go. I’ll tell your supervisor that you have a family emergency and have to leave.”

  She stared at him, words frozen on her tongue. Cooper was right. Dr. McKenzie motioned for her to leave. She nodded, knowing that she’d better go before she got stuck at the hospital. All she could think about was getting home to Hayley.

  When she exited the parking garage, a long line of cars appeared in her rearview mirror. Traffic ahead of her wasn’t as bad. She drove home on auto pilot, grateful that Cooper was on his way.

  * * *

  Shannon fixed her eyes on Hayley when she entered the living room after a quick shower and a change of clothes. Hayley was curled up in her favorite chair drawing in her sketch book. She felt Hayley’s forehead and looked for signs of a rash on her arms and legs. Hayley objected when she tried to pull up her shirt to check her abdomen. Emma sat on the sofa engrossed in the news on the television.

  “How are you both feeling? Do either of you feel sick at all?”

  “No,” Hayley and Emma said in unison.

  “Why? What’s going on?” Emma asked.

  Shannon lowered her voice to almost a whisper. Hayley kept drawing, but she could tell by the way her head was cocked that Hayley was hanging on every word.

  “I’m not absolutely positive, but along with everything else that’s going on, I think we’re in the middle of a pandemic. Some kind of bird flu. Coop mentioned it in an email. And you know the surgeon I work with?”

  Emma nodded her head.

  “He told me a patient died from the virus this morning. About a dozen more people with the same symptoms were admitted this morning.”

  “Mom, I can hear you. I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m thirteen. You don’t have to hide things from me.”

  “You’re right. There’s no point in hiding what’s going on.”

  “I better get to my mother’s.” Emma said. “I should stay with her until Nick gets home. I talked to him earlier, and he said traffic is terrible on I-5. He was supposed to be home this evening. I tried to call him again. But I couldn’t get through. The news is awful but no bad reports from Portland so I’m hoping that everything is okay there.”

  “Leave a note for Nick. If I see him, I’ll let him know you’re okay. Take some of these with you,” Shannon said, handing Emma a dozen N-95 masks. “You better take plenty of food, water, and other supplies from your house, in case she doesn’t have much. The sooner you get there the better. If you need to come back for any reason, come back here. I don’t want you in your house alone.”

  Shannon and Hayley hugged Emma goodbye and watched from the door as she walked towards her house.

  “Are we going to be okay, Mom?”

  * * *

  Shannon went into the kitchen to a small alcove with a built in desk. She turned on the computer and re-read the email that Cooper had sent:

  Shannon,

  Read the email I sent to my website members. A virus known as Rapture has been mentioned numerous times on the internet from reputable sources. Stay at home and arm the security system. Don’t let anyone inside. They could have the virus. Pull out the bag with the biohazard gear. Keep your gun with you at all times. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

  Cooper

  When she received the emails on her smartphone that morning, she had let out an exasperated sigh. Pandemic? And what the heck was a dead drop? After seeing with her own eyes that Cooper knew what he was talking about, she felt stupid for not taking him more seriously. But how could this be happening?

  * * *

  They had been divorced for ten years. At first, she thought it had been their differences had killed their marriage but came to realize it was also because they both so stubborn—that and his unrelenting seventy-hour work weeks. He could still get under her skin like no one else. But she knew he’d do anything for Hayley and for her.

  After losing his parents and almost losing Hayley, it took a while, but they began working on becoming friends for Hayley’s sake. But all his talk about conspiracy theories and preoccupation with prepping made it difficult.

  It drove her crazy until she decided that it wasn’t worth the fight—he could have his opinions, and she could have hers. And maybe they could even learn from each other. They had Hayley’s well-being to tend to. Just like Cooper, Hayley hadn’t come away unscathed after her grandparents’ deaths.

  Shannon remembered in vivid detail the day her attitude-shift towards Cooper had occurred: Cooper had flown out from Tucson during a three-day weekend to spend some time with Hayley, two years after his parents were killed.

  Hayley sat at the kitchen table drawing the thousandth picture of the same scenario. An American flag and fireworks in the background signified it was the fourth of July. Cooper and Hayley held giant superhero shields stoppin
g bullets had that started their flight from somewhere off the page. Khan, her grandparents’ Akita sat behind her on a very accurate representation of Neil and Lisa’s front porch, a bright, pink tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. Hayley used arrows to indicate the bullets that hit the shield had fallen to the ground. Neil and Lisa peeked out from behind her and Cooper with smiles on their faces.

  Shannon’s heart broke every time she thought about what Hayley had gone through. And Cooper . . . it was a dark time.

  She had poured two tall glasses of iced tea and led Cooper onto the small deck off the back of her house. He had come to see Hayley from Tucson, but of course, he wanted to talk politics. He always wanted to talk politics. His spiel was getting old, but she promised herself that she’d to listen to him with an open mind even though they hardly ever agreed about anything political in the past. She forced herself to smile and leaned against the deck railing with her glass in her hand.

  “Can’t you see what’s going on right in front of you?”

  “That really turns me off when you do that. Explain it to me instead of trying to make me feel ignorant.” She took a sip of her drink.

  “I’m not trying to make you feel that way. You know I’m a skeptic when it comes to all that New World Order, one-world government, conspiracy theory crap. I don’t think that’ll happen. But you can’t keep your eyes closed to what’s going on. The government is turning into a nanny state. The right to have a voice in policies is being undermined, not to mention our basic liberties. Most people are running around like zombies while our rights are slowly stripped away.”

  “Are you talking gun control? Because if you’ve seen what I’ve seen in the OR--”

  “That’s only a part of it. I’m talking about the Bill of Rights. The government whittling away at it bit by bit. Trying to staunch our right to free speech. Our right to peaceably assemble. Property is being seized unlawfully. I don’t know about you, but this makes me anxious about the future.”

  “I think you worry too much. It’s cyclical. Plus, the administration has done a lot to help the poor. Unemployment has fallen to all-time lows.”

 

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