The Goliath Code (The Alpha Omega Trilogy)

by Suzanne Leonhard

  Hands reached into the air. Desperate cries, insisting on ownership, were drowned out by screams of pain and more gunshots. I saw Eliza Cole snatch a box out of the hands of another woman. The woman started to rant and Eliza backhanded her. The woman hit the ground, her hands empty, and Eliza walked off with her prize. So much for loving thy neighbor.

  People knocked each other over, throwing elbows and fists to claim their fair share. Crates were torn open as fast as they hit the ground, the contents looted and taken away.

  Lisa Butler, carrying a single case of Europa water, hurried past our truck toward the parking lot. Her clothing torn, she was bruised and crying. She got tackled from behind by John Voss—a man twice her size—and fell, face-first, into the ash and dirt. Her case of water tumbled out of her hands. Voss snatched it up, kicked her in the ribs, and then hurried off with his prize.

  Lisa climbed to her feet and caught sight of me, standing in the truck bed with an automatic rifle and a good vantage point. I hadn’t done a thing to help her. A hot surge of shame shot through me as she turned and limped back to her car, empty-handed.

  I looked back at the crowded field, fighting the urge to run. Instead, I searched for Grandpa, Micah, or Tim. The chaos had swallowed them whole.

  “Where are they?” Milly crouched beside me in the truck bed.

  I spotted them, thirty yards out. “There!” Tim and Grandpa had their arms full. They were weaving through the clash with Micah guarding their backs.

  I turned to David. “They’re coming—”

  But David was gone. Panic hit me. “David?” I scrambled to the other side of the bed and looked around the truck. “David?”

  I scanned the fringes of the crowd, fighting panic, afraid one of Skaggs’ men had grabbed him. Then I saw him. He’d made it to a discarded crate twenty yards out and found a single overlooked item.

  “David!” I screamed.

  He looked up, holding a case of Europa water, and flashed me a grin. I should have known he’d never settle for standing silently in the background.

  He ran for the truck. I held my breath, silently urging him on as he dodged fights and scrambled over people laid out on the ground. For the first time in my life I felt grateful that he was small and easily overlooked. He owned the field like a miniature Super Bowl running back. He was going to make it.

  And then a loud shot rang out. Blood erupted from his leg. He stumbled. I watched my brother go down in a cry of agony and disappear beneath the jostling crowd.

  I was out of the truck bed before I even realized I’d moved. I could hear Milly shouting at me as if from a long way off. I shoved through the warring crowd until I finally saw my brother clinging to a case of water, blood oozing from his thigh.

  Lem Richmond had his rifle pointed at his head. “Hello, Little Stinker,” I heard him say.

  Desperate and in pain, David shoved the case of water at Lem and tried to scoot away. “Take it!” he cried. “Just take it!”

  David had surrendered the water, but that didn’t matter. I recognized the look on Lem’s face. I’d seen the same look on his son’s face three days before at the hospital. Richmond didn’t care about the water. He wanted to shoot my brother, just like Cody had wanted to shoot me.

  My vision narrowed to a tunnel with Lem Richmond at the center. The violent sound of the crowd muted to a low, dull hum. My thoughts turned sharp. I saw Lem Richmond’s face framed by a small round circle.

  CRACK!

  The sound exploded in my ears. The weapon in my hands jerked back against my shoulder and Lem Richmond fell, motionless, at my brother’s feet.

  I stared down at the man for a moment. Was I dreaming? Pulling the trigger had been such a simple thing, just a quick motion of my finger.

  David lay gasping on the ground. I threw down the rifle and pulled him to his feet. He tried to pick up his case of water, but somebody else grabbed it first. I took a tight grip on the back of his coat and ran him toward the truck. If I’d been strong enough to pick him up I would have. The wound in his leg was bleeding badly and he stumbled after only a few yards. The crowd surged in around us. I pulled him upright again, but he lost consciousness and dragged us both to the ground.

  The violent crowd pressed in. We were stepped on and kicked. I looked around, desperate for help, but saw nothing but rage and violence in the faces around me.

  And then Micah appeared. He lifted David over his shoulder, grabbed my hand, and we ran together through the crowd to the truck.

  Grandpa, already there, took one look at David and his expression hardened. “Everybody in the truck!”

  With the scene around us going from bad to worse, we loaded David into the pickup bed and left the drop zone behind. I didn’t remember the drive home, except that my brother was unconscious and Milly had tied a tourniquet around his thigh.

  It was growing dark by the time we turned into the driveway. Everyone scrambled out of the truck to accompany David into the house, but I couldn’t find the will to move. I stared at the two boxes of supplies we’d managed to carry away from the drop zone and wondered how they could be worth someone’s life.

  I touched my forehead. It felt tender where I’d been kicked. My head was starting to ache.

  “You should have your grandfather take a look at that.”

  I glanced up at Micah, approaching from the house. He hopped up on the tailgate and eased down beside me. “Milly says David’s gonna be okay,” he continued. “The bullet went through skin and muscle. Didn’t break the bone.”

  Just a couple months ago, Micah had been the one trying to hurt David. Now, genuine concern for my brother reflected in his warm, dark eyes. Why are you so different? I wondered.

  He pushed a piece of hair back from my face. “What’s going on in your head right now?”

  “I don’t like guns.” My voice surprised me. It sounded distant and raw, not my own.

  “I understand, but you—”

  “No, you don’t.” Emotion welled up in me, making my chin quiver. “Four years ago my best friend’s brother shot himself.”

  Micah grew quiet.

  “Alyson found him. Out back. Behind her house. She never got over it.”

  “Difficult times will come,” he murmured.

  “Grandpa says the only thing evil needs to succeed is for good people to do nothing.” I looked him in the eye, afraid of how he would react to what I was about to say. “I’m not sorry I killed Mr. Richmond. His son tried to kill me. He tried to kill my brother. They started it. I ended it.”

  Micah’s expression softened. He placed his hand over mine and our gazes locked. The electric contact of his skin erased any fear I had that he would judge me for what I’d done. His nearness pulled at something deeper inside me. I realized that I should thank him for, once again, saving my life. And then I thought I might kiss him instead.

  At that moment, Grandpa Donner came marching out of the house with a cigar clamped between his teeth and Tim in step behind him. Micah cleared his throat, removing his hand from mine.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much blood in my whole entire life,” Tim was saying.

  Grandpa shook his head appreciatively. “That Milly’s got a gift.”

  Tim grinned. “She’s watched a lotta hospital dramas.”

  “So what’s goin’ on out here?” Grandpa asked. He looked back and forth between me and Micah.

  Tim, seeming to sense that they’d intruded on a private moment, reached into the truck bed for a Europa box. “I’ll get this stuff inside.” He headed back to the house.

  My grandfather pinned me with a serious look. “Milly told me what happened out there. I’m proud of you, girl.”

  Tears tightened my throat.

  “I know it’s hard. But you were given a choice and you made the right one.”

  He hoisted the other Europa box up and out of the truck bed, then paused. “Micah, you’ve been in my jail so many times I was about to start chargin’ you rent.”


  Micah grunted, looking chagrined.

  “But it looks like we owe you another thank you.” He extended his hand. “It’s good to see you finally comin’ into your own.”

  Micah stood and shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Now you two best get inside.” Grandpa turned and carried his box toward the house. “Not a good night for stargazin’.”

  I waited until he’d disappeared inside, then turned back to Micah. “You should stay.” The idea of him heading off into the night alone worried me.

  “What, here? Naw. I’m fine where I’m at. The Skaggs won’t bother me. I don’t have anything they want.”

  I shook my head at him. “Doesn’t anything scare you?”

  He gave me a long, searching look and I realized that he was the only person in existence who could make my heart stop and start at the same time.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come out when you came to see me,” I said.

  He held up three fingers. “Three times.”

  I smiled. “I’m sorry three times.”

  “You have a beautiful smile.” He winced and looked down, as if he’d said something he shouldn’t.

  “Thank you.”

  He held out his hand to me. “You should definitely go inside. Unless you were planning on sleeping out here in the truck.”

  He had a point. I certainly couldn’t stay out there all night.

  I stared at his broad fingers, knowing that taking his hand meant standing up. It meant making the decision to move forward from the hospital massacre and the drop zone. I wasn’t sure I knew how.

  As if reading my mind, he answered my thoughts. “You’re stronger than you think, Seraphina.”

  He stood there quietly, holding out his hand, waiting for me to make the choice. I suddenly felt like I could do anything.

  I slipped my hand into his and allowed him to pull me to my feet.

  He helped me down off the tailgate and we walked to the porch, hand in hand. He paused on the bottom step, his eyes locked with mine, his lips slightly parted. I felt like there was something else he wanted to say. I held my breath, waiting.

  Finally, he frowned and looked away. “Sleep well.”

  I felt a pinch of disappointment as his fingers slipped from mine. He turned to go, but I couldn’t let him leave—not like that. “Micah?” He looked back at me. “Will…will you come see me tomorrow?” We could sit on the porch; David never had to know.

  His mouth curved into a warm smile. “Absolutely.”

  I stared after him as he headed off down the street, watching even after he’d disappeared into the cold, dark night.

  Micah didn’t visit the next day. Or the day after that. I considered going out to find him, but the Skaggs had upped their game at the drop zone and Grandpa insisted we stay close to the house. I kept busy helping Tim repair the cellar walls and reinforce the door, just in case we needed a safe room.

  Instead of putting David in the hospital and making him an immediate target for Frank Skaggs, Doctor Reinkann had put Milly in charge of my brother’s rehabilitation. From David’s point of view, this was just about the best thing that had ever happened to him. Under Milly’s gentle care, he was healing.

  Days passed with no word from Micah. The Skaggs kept my grandfather and his deputy busy with nightly raids throughout the area. The demand for guns grew, spreading into the outlying communities. The Skaggs had made off with most of the supplies from the Europa drop, so food grew scarce in town again. Fights in the streets over rations weren’t uncommon. People were getting desperate.

  Then a large, well-organized group of Skaggs attacked the Lakedale City food warehouse, killing the town’s mayor and six other people in the process. Grandpa’d had enough. He gathered all the community leaders together and told them it was time to fight back. So the 1st Cascade Militia was born. Their mission, guard and protect the citizens of Kittitas County against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Tim was the first person to sign up.

  Finally, seventeen days after the first Europa crates drifted down to the ground, a plane flew overhead and released more blue leaflets into the air, announcing a supply drop the very next day. This time the town’s citizens stayed in the safety of their homes and let their new militia take charge.

  The 1st Cascade, at an impressive three hundred strong, ended up securing all thirty-five crates without a single ounce of blood spilled. The Skaggs had made an appearance, but they’d beat a hasty retreat once they’d seen what they were up against. It was a proud day for the militia and for the entire county.

  With the militia on duty and people walking around with satisfied bellies, the town calmed down, making it safe to finally leave the house again. While David recuperated at home, Tim went back to guard duty at the food warehouse and Milly returned to work at the hospital. Finding Micah became my number one priority.

  I scoured the city for him, then broadened my search to the outlying communities. In the end, I even checked the morgue. I found no sign of him anywhere. No one had seen him since the first Europa drop. I knew in my heart that the Skaggs had captured him.

  Micah had been missing for over three weeks when I stopped by the hospital to pick up fresh bandages for David. “How’s he doing?” Milly asked.

  “He’s David and he’s incapacitated,” I grumbled. “How do you think he’s doing?”

  Suddenly Tim burst through the hospital doors carrying a large man over his shoulders. “Need a little help, here!” he called out.

  Milly grabbed a nearby gurney and Tim lowered the unconscious man down onto the sheet. She began checking his vitals. “What happened?”

  The man was beaten and bloody and, judging by the angle of several of his fingers, he likely had a few broken bones.

  “Found him in a ditch by Crystal Creek,” Tim answered.

  Though badly swollen, the man’s face looked familiar. Then it hit me. “That’s John Voss,” I said. “He’s one of Skaggs’ men.”

  Tim and Milly exchanged a look. Milly carefully pulled back the neckline on Voss’s dirty, blood-stained shirt. I gasped at what that revealed. He had an angry, blistering brand burned into his chest: TRAITOR.

  Milly’s jaw set. “Another defector.”

  “Another?” I repeated.

  “He’s the second we’ve seen,” Tim answered. “It’s nice to know a few are havin’ second thoughts, but Skaggs ain’t lettin’ ’em go easy.”

  “The man is a monster,” Milly ground out.

  “Pledge or perish,” Tim said wryly. “That is their motto.”

  Milly unlocked the wheels on the gurney and started rolling Voss away. “I’ll get him taken care of.”

  Once Milly left, Tim turned to me with an uneasy smile. “Can you take a look at somethin’ for me?”

  “Sure,” I replied warily.

  He lifted his shirt. “I’d ask Milly, but I don’t wanna freak her out.” He showed me a blotchy red rash on his stomach.

  Fear seized my heart. I bent closer to get a better look.

  Tim hesitated. “Is it…?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and shook my head. “It’s not viridea. It looks like poison oak.”

  Tim let out a thankful breath, then laughed. “I guess that won’t kill me.”

  “Probably not.”

  With the bird population dwindling, disease carrying mosquitos were multiplying. The result of that was a new, more virulent form of the West Nile virus. Victims suffered from a rash, encephalitis, convulsions, and eventually death. We’d lost four people to it in just the past week.

  “Mix some baking soda with a little water,” I told him. “Use it as a paste. It’ll help the itch.”

  “Gotcha. Listen, Sera, there’s somethin’ else. Might be just a rumor. But I’m not so sure I should keep it from ya.”

  He was worrying me again. “Heard something about what?”

  “About Micah.”

  My heart stopped. Part of me wanted to grab him and force hi
m to tell me everything. Another part of me wanted to run from the hospital as fast as I could, before he told me something I could never unhear.

  “I was talkin’ with some of the men from the militia they put together over in Ronald,” he went on. “One of ’em said that the Skaggs had captured a Jewish kid from Roslyn the night of the first food drop. Sera, their description sounded a lot like Micah.”

  I reminded myself to breathe. “What…what happened to him?”

  “He’s likely being held in one of their detention camps. They ain’t pretty.”

  Tears stung my eyes. I should have never let Micah leave that night. I should have insisted he stay with us at the house. This was all my fault.

  I sniffled. “How do we get him back?”

  Tim shook his head. “We don’t. Not ‘til this damn war ends.”

  That night I went home and sat at my bedroom window, staring out into the dark night. I thought of Micah, beaten and alone, trapped behind the razor wire of a Skaggs prisoner of war compound, and a fire grew in my belly until it blazed as hot as the sun. I was going to make every single one of those Skagg bastards pay for what they’d done—to me, to David, to Micah. I wouldn’t rest until he was home.

  One month after Micah had gone missing, I walked into City Hall and joined the 1st Cascade Militia.

  Part Two

  “There will be great distress, unequaled from the

  beginning of the world until now—and never to be equaled again.

  If those days had not been cut short, no one would survive.

  -Matthew 24: 21-22

  Chapter Ten

  I ran down Highway 903 with my M16 clutched in my hand. Ben Turner stayed close behind with his own weapon at the ready. He had two seized weapons slung over his shoulder and extra ammo clips stuffed into his jacket, but he was still managing to keep up with me—one of the benefits of having a high school linebacker as my spotter.

  It was almost midnight with a full, red moon rising on the distant horizon. That, plus the burning remains of a pickup truck, cast an eerie glow over the scene. We charged through the parking lot of the Cle Elum Walmart, dodging wrecked cars and toppled shopping carts. Bullet holes pitted the store’s walls, shattered glass filled its windows. The contents of its shelves had been looted months ago. It was early May, eight months after the Yellowstone eruption.