by Nick Thacker
The first thought he had was that he was close to the exit. But that wasn’t what mattered to him right now.
The cylinder bumped into the rock, and Ben crouched behind it, stuck, both supporting himself and trying to hold the weight of the rolling explosive device from plummeting back down the cavern.
So far he’d been able to work in the dark, keeping the flashlight in his back pocket. But now he needed a better plan. He reached around and grabbed the light, flicking it on and examining his predicament.
The ledge wasn’t large, just as he remembered it, but it presented an extremely frustrating problem — the bomb would need to be lifted completely up and over the ledge, then set back down on the cave floor above it, all without losing control of it.
There was no way around it, literally or figuratively.
Ben stuck his knee behind the bomb and flashed the light in a full circle around him just in case he’d missed something, his heavy breathing calming slightly as his body took advantage of the short break.
As he brought the flashlight back to his right hand and prepared to put it away, he felt his knee sliding sideways.
“Nononono—”
He began yelling at the metal cylinder, but it was still coming backwards. He fell on his rear, then on his side, panic suddenly setting in. His hands were no use, covered in sweat and sliding as easily on the smooth cave floor as they did on the metal surface of the bomb’s casing.
This is not good.
The bomb began to roll faster, and Ben knew it was going to roll right past him.
It gained speed, and he did the only thing he could think of.
He stuck his left leg out and shoved it in front of the runaway cylinder. As it approached, Ben slid his upper body around quickly so that it was downhill, right in the path of the bomb’s getaway.
The heavy object rolled over his foot, and he felt its weight slam down on his shin. He roared in pain and instinctively tried to pull his foot back, but the bomb was already up to his knee. He could feel the pressure exerted by the weight, crushing as it sailed over him.
It slowed, the angle of Ben’s leg stalling it, and it rolled backwards. It bounced a little and then came to rest on his left foot, a crunching sound in his ankle causing Ben to gasp and almost pass out.
The initial impact of the device and the final crushing blow as it bounced and stopped on his foot rendered Ben completely immobile. He was laying upside down, his head farther down the path and lower than his feet, one of which was pinned beneath the metal cylinder.
He groaned, pain lancing up his leg, as he tried to wriggle his foot free. He sat forward, resting on his elbows, so he could examine the situation. Every time he even thought about moving his foot, his brain seemed determined to disobey the order. Still, he struggled against it and tried to force the foot free.
It was no use. The pain was too much to bear, and the device wouldn’t budge. He sighed, falling back.
Chapter Fifty-Six
THIS IS IT. IT’S OVER. I’m going to die in a hole in the ground, waiting to blow up.
Ben’s foot was on fire. The pain had grown worse, surprisingly, and he was now nearly hyperventilating as he tried to breathe in and out, focusing his mind on other thoughts.
But the thoughts that came weren’t helpful.
I failed. I let everyone down, and I let Julie down.
I lost her.
He tried again to force his mind to other thoughts, but the only other thing that came to mind was to check the time on the bomb. The screen hadn’t turned off again, and he slid sideways a bit to catch a glimpse of the countdown clock.
36 minutes…
He watched every second tick down, the display mesmerizing him, calming him.
35 minutes…
This really is it, he thought. The seconds ticked by, and all he could think about was the bomb, the countdown timer, and Julie.
Julie, I’m sorry.
He wished he had the radio and that it had a little battery left. Not to call for help, but to hear her voice again.
Just one more time.
“Ben!”
He sprang up, momentarily forgetting his helplessness, and almost screamed as his leg reminded him. He fell back to the floor, but managed a weak response. “Hello? Julie, is that you?”
It had definitely been her voice, but she wasn’t in the cave yet — it sounded quieter than it should have been, as if she were standing at the mouth of the cave.
“Oh my God, Ben, are you really in there?” she called again.
“Y — yeah, I’m here,” he said. “Might be here for a while, though.”
He could now see a flickering light dancing above him, casting slight shadows on the walls around him.
“I’m coming down — are you hurt?”
He didn’t answer, instead waiting for her face to appear. How do you explain an idiot move like this?
“Ben! What happened?”
He frowned, wanting to yell at her to shut up and help, but stopped himself. “I got attacked by this barrel. Came out of nowhere. Like an ambush.”
Julie did not look amused. “You think you’re funny?”
“Funnier than you,” he replied, the sarcastic twinge of his voice downplayed by the obvious pain he was feeling.
“Let’s get this thing off of you. That sound good?” She examined the bomb, noticing the countdown timer, but not saying anything about it. “Hang on a minute.”
Ben’s eyes grew wide as Julie turned and ran back up the cave, leaving him and the bomb in complete darkness. “Hey!”
No response. Ben waited impatiently. A minute ticked by, then another. He wished he didn’t have a way to tell exactly how much time had passed, but he did.
Three minutes, on the dot.
“I’m here,” he heard her say. He saw the light again, and she raced around the corner and over the step, this time holding a large stick.
“It’s not going to be strong enough to lift it all the way over —”
“It doesn’t need to be,” she responded, cutting him off. “Shut up and hold that thing steady.”
He did as he was told, and Julie propped the end of the stick underneath its bulk, careful to keep it away from Ben’s foot. She wiggled it deeper, pushing it around until it cracked a little. She met Ben’s eyes. “Let’s hope that was just the very end of it,” she said. “Ready?” She reached behind her and grabbed a round stone lying next to the cave wall. She stuck the stone beneath the stick, right in front of the bomb, forming a lever.
Ben nodded, and Julie heaved downwards with all of her bodyweight. A strained noise escaped her mouth, and Ben couldn’t help but notice how cute it sounded. He quickly returned to the situation at hand and placed his hands on the bomb’s exterior. He held it steady as Julie pushed again. The metal canister moved slightly forward, and Ben felt the immediate sensation of freedom. He ripped his leg back, the terror of having his foot crushed greater than the pain of moving it that quickly.
He put more weight on the bomb, then nodded. Julie let out the air she’d been holding and released the lever. The bomb slid back a little but stopped as it hit the rock and the force from Ben’s hands.
“Okay, now what?” she asked.
Ben looked up at her. “You didn’t think to bring any of those cops down with you?”
She shook her head unapologetically. “I didn’t tell them I was leaving. A few of us met up, and I, uh, sort of borrowed one of the cars.”
“You stole a police car?” Ben asked incredulously.
“You stole mine,” she responded.
He almost smiled. “Whatever. I guess you get to help me with this. Here —” He moved his hands over to the side of the bomb, and she crouched down to help him, placing her hands on the right side. “My bum leg is going force me to move a little slower, since I’ll pretty much have to balance on the other one, but I think both of us can —”
Before he could finish, Julie had started lifting. Ben felt the bo
mb move a few inches up toward the shelf, and he struggled to keep up. He added his strength, and together the pair lifted the metal tube up the side of the short rock step, using the vertical section of rock as support.
With a final push, they lifted the bomb over the edge and onto the flat, gently sloping section of cave above.
“Whew, that’s not the lightest thing I’ve ever lifted,” Julie said.
“Yeah, try getting it all the way up here,” Ben said. He realized they hadn’t stopped yet — they were moving it along, hand over hand, inch by inch, working together.
“Oh, right, macho man. You’re quite the stud. Maybe next time don’t drop it on your foot?”
“Maybe next time don’t start without me?” Ben shot back.
“I know why you don’t talk much,” she said, a smirk forming at the side of her mouth.
“Why’s that, genius?”
“Because all you do is whine,” she said.
Ben laughed, glad that the ordeal was over, but also glad Julie had joined him. The pain in his foot was still significant, but he thought it might be a hairline fracture rather than a full broken ankle. It was difficult to walk, but he knew he’d be fine.
They reached the end of the cave and rolled the device over the grassy land between the cave and the truck. They stopped when they reached the road, letting the bomb come to a rest in front of the truck’s high tailgate. Ben sat down on the grass, letting his leg relax.
“Hey,” he said. He wasn’t looking at Julie, but instead up at the sky, which was growing darker as the sun prepared to set.
“What’s up?”
“Thanks for coming back for me.” He finally looked back down, turning his head to catch Julie’s eye.
“You knew I would,” she said, smiling, as she stood up. “Now let’s get this thing out to the lake.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
BEN WAS SHOCKED THAT JULIE was actually driving. Unfortunately, she’d volunteered to drive the Dodge Charger police cruiser that she’d “borrowed” from the officer earlier, leaving Ben to drive her own truck. He tested his leg, finding it in pain but not broken, and he walked in a few circles outside of the cave before continuing.
They’d lifted the bomb up and over the tailgate of the truck and slid it against the cab, opting to stand it up on its base rather than leave it to roll around. Julie didn’t have any tie-downs or rope in the truck, so Ben asked her to follow behind and make sure the bomb didn’t fall over. If it did, and Ben couldn’t hear or feel it himself, she’d agreed to flash her headlights a few times to let him know.
But it was overkill. The road they’d turned onto curved around the lake, for the most part following the shoreline. Ben knew the road was paved almost entirely and was free of potholes, bumps, and irregular surfaces like the dirt back roads they’d been on.
The plan was to find a spot to dump the bomb into the lake, trying to get it as far out onto the water as possible, and that meant they’d get to higher ground and find a hill or raised location from which they’d roll the bomb down and out over the lake.
It was a pretty meager plan, Ben admitted to himself, but it was still a plan. He’d been at a loss for what to do after he found the explosive device, and only after they’d secured the bomb in the back of the truck had he realized why.
He hadn’t expected to even find it in the first place.
Ben thought it was a miracle they’d stumbled across the bomb’s resting place, and even more of a miracle that it hadn’t yet detonated, but he wasn’t holding out hope that this next phase of their hacked together plan was going to work.
Still, he pressed on. What good is a plan if it isn’t tried? he thought to himself. He wasn’t sure if that was a real quote or just something that seemed to make sense, but he held on to it.
He now knew what it felt like to truly hope. To long for something to happen; to wish with all he had to accomplish something.
He’d felt pangs of it when his father had been in the ER, and then later as they stabilized him, but he’d forgotten the feelings of hope, longing, and even true despair.
This, he knew, was desperate.
They were racing at a breakneck pace, carrying a who-knew-how-massive explosive device that was guaranteed to blow in less than half an hour, trying to find a place to dump it in a lake.
In a lake.
The thought struck him as funny for some reason, and he couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
We’re dumping a nuclear warhead into a lake.
He didn’t know if the bomb was actually nuclear or if it was something else entirely, but semantics didn’t matter to him at this point.
I’ve gone off the deep end, and I’ve taken Julie with me.
But as soon as he thought of Julie, his mind seemed to relax just a bit. They were still on a mission that would change the course of their nation’s history, but knowing that she was with him — even in a separate car — made him feel better for some reason.
He hoped they’d get through it.
Flashing lights in the rearview mirror snapped Ben back to the real world.
Shit.
She flashed the lights again, and Ben stretched up a little to try and peer out the mirror and window into the truck bed.
He slowed the truck slightly, trying to get the fallen bomb to roll around. He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, and he didn’t feel anything bump against the sides of the bed.
What’s going on?
He slowed, then stopped. Julie pulled the police car up beside him, and he pressed the button to roll the passenger window down. He began speaking before the window was fully open.
“What’s wrong? You okay?”
“Chill, Ben. Everything’s fine,” she responded.
Ben let out a breath and relaxed. He was starting to freak himself out with the way he was acting around her. “Sorry. What’s up?”
“I saw a boat down there.”
The words struck him as odd at first, until he realized what she was implying. “Really? Where? Sorry, I wasn’t even looking at the lake.”
“I know — you told me you’d be looking for high ground; a place to roll the canister off of. I thought it’d be helpful if I took to looking for any other options.”
Ben was struck by the obviousness and the foresight she’d portrayed in making that decision, and once again chided himself for ever trying to rid himself of her.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, “that seems like a better idea than what we thought of before.”
“You mean what you thought of before,” she said, verbally nudging him a little.
Man, this girl doesn’t let up, he thought.
“Right. That. Well, anyway, let’s head down there and see if it’s worth the trouble.”
She nodded, already trying to find a road that led down to the lake. “I’ll bet there’s a turnoff up ahead. Keep your eyes peeled.”
Ben nodded and began to roll up the window.
“Hey,” she said.
He stopped and looked over at her.
“What’s the time?”
He’d almost forgotten he’d been tracking the bomb’s countdown timer with his watch’s built-in timer, and he suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over him.
15 minutes.
“15:14,” he called to the other vehicle. Saying it aloud made him even more nervous.
They’d decided that they would try to allow for a five-minute window before the countdown timer reached zero, as a “safe zone.” It was an arbitrary number, but Ben didn’t want to take any chances that Stephens — or whoever else was behind this — hadn’t programmed the timer to detonate the bomb before it reached zero.
That meant they had about ten minutes to get the bomb out onto the water.
He pulled away from the police car, suddenly aware of the one-way trip they were both on.
They didn’t have time to get to the boat and get to a hill or raised area over the lake.
If they chose the
boat option, it was their only option. Either the boat had fuel in it or it didn’t, and if it didn’t…
He didn’t waste energy computing the outcomes of that scenario. Ben focused on the road in front of him, watching for a left turn that would lead them to the lake.
Another variable I’ve got to get right.
They didn’t have the time to search multiple roads.
Luckily, the road they wanted was the first one that appeared in front of them. Ben wasted no time turning the truck and bouncing over the unkept mud and dirt, all the while accelerating as the truck sped up downhill. He barely even checked behind him for Julie’s car — it wouldn’t matter much now if she was there or not.
The road ended at the water in a sort of boat ramp, the kind you might use in a worst-case scenario. Mud and rocks made up the bottom half of the ramp as the road disappeared into the gently lapping waves of the lake, and Ben made sure to stop the truck well enough in front of the ramp so as not to have any trouble leaving the location when they were finished. Time was working against them, more than he’d ever experienced.
He got out of the truck and ran along the shore until he came to the small boat tied to a short dock that poked out from the shoreline. It was a green fishing boat with a small two-stroke engine and stick rudder attached at the rear.
At least that was good news. Let’s hope there’s some gas in it.
He reached the dock, untied the boat, and immediately began pulling the cord to start the engine. Julie had parked her police cruiser haphazardly in a patch of mud on a steep incline off to the side, and she ran up next to him.
“Need help?”
“The keys are still in the truck!” Ben yelled over the sound of the sputtering motor. “Back it up here as close as you can.”
She ran to the truck, and almost instantaneously Ben saw the truck kick up gravel and mud as it backed up at an alarming rate. He looked down to focus on his work and pulled the cord once more, hearing the engine cough to life. He just about had a heart attack when he looked up again. The truck was mere feet away and still moving quickly.
