Day of Doom

by David Baldacci

  “I think the Americans own it,” said the other guard meekly.

  “Great,” grumbled Isabel. “They don’t have any money to pay damages.”

  The PA system crackled and a voice came on.

  “All passengers, there has been an electrical system interruption on the train. Please make your way to the dining car, where flashlights and emergency instructions will be given out. All passengers, please make your way to the dining car at once. Thank you.”

  “I’m not going to any dining car,” snapped Isabel.

  The PA system crackled again. “Any passenger attempting to stay in his seat or compartment will be escorted off the train at the next stop. No exceptions.”

  Isabel fumed for a few moments and then snatched her bag. “I will kill whoever caused the electrical interruption.” She pointed to one of her men. “Find out who the person is and write the name down for me. And be sure to get the correct spelling.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Kabra.”

  She stomped down the hall.

  “Uh, Mrs. Kabra?” said one of her guards.

  She turned and yelled, “What!”

  “The dining car is the other way,” the man said timidly.

  Isabel Kabra gave a prolonged sigh, marched over to him, slugged him in the face with her bag, and stomped toward the dining car. She called back over her shoulder, “And don’t forget that name! Or I’ll kill you, too.”

  Atticus and Jake were standing in a control room on the train, located in a vestibule between two cars. Jake had picked the lock to get inside, and Atticus had powered down the train’s electrical system, except for low-level emergency lighting. He had then turned on the train’s PA system to make the announcement in the deepest voice he could muster. Finally, he had disabled the PA system so that no more announcements could be made, at least for a while.

  “So cool, Att,” said Jake admiringly.

  “Just a simple case of reverse engineering,” replied Atticus modestly. “But now comes the hard part.”

  “Right. Come on. We need to be nearby while Amy and Dan search Isabel’s compartment, just in case anything goes wrong. Which it probably will.”

  They waited until the other passengers had passed by them on the way to the dining car before racing down the hall toward Isabel’s compartment.

  Dan and Amy were right outside Isabel’s compartment. They looked at each other. Dan peeked inside the window.

  “Coast is clear.”

  Amy said, “We probably have only a few minutes before Isabel realizes this was all a scam.”

  Dan answered by yanking open the door. “So let’s get it done.”

  They moved inside and Dan shut the door behind them. They used penlights to look around the darkened room. Dan dug through Isabel’s suitcase and toiletry bag.

  “Yuck,” he said.

  “What is it?” whispered Amy.

  He held up a long plastic folding case. “Have you ever seen this much makeup in your life? And she has ten pairs of eyebrow tweezers.”

  “Haven’t you ever seen her brows? Without those tweezers it would be a big furry caterpillar right across her forehead.”

  Dan put the case back and kept searching.

  “Dan, look at this.”

  He hurried over to her. Amy had been searching a bag that had been stowed in a storage cabinet next to the tiny bathroom.

  She held up photos and shone her light on them.

  “Those are pictures of the Lewis and Clark compass,” exclaimed Dan.

  “Exactly.”

  The pictures were of both the front and rear of the compass, just like they had taken at the museum, too.

  “It was just like the lady at the museum said,” commented Amy.

  Dan shot his hand down into the bag and pulled out a phone.

  “Why would she have her phone in a bag in storage?” said Dan.

  “Maybe it’s a backup phone,” answered Amy. “Anything on it?”

  Dan hit some buttons and his face turned pale. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

  “What?”

  He held up the phone. On it were several texts. Texts sent to Dan. And they were all signed AJT.

  Amy looked at Dan. He said, “AJT. Arthur Josiah Trent. The texts I thought I was receiving from Dad were actually from that witch.” He looked up miserably at Amy. “I know you always thought they were fake.”

  “It doesn’t make it any easier for you, Dan. I wanted Mom and Dad alive, too. And I didn’t want Dad to be a Vesper. And I don’t believe he was.”

  Dan put the phone back in the bag. “Well, I guess this proves that Dad wasn’t a bad guy. He wasn’t with the Vespers. He never left Mom in that house. They died together.”

  Amy was about to say something when her phone buzzed.

  It was a frantic text from Jake. Isabel was on her way back. They had to get out of the compartment right now.

  They both turned toward the door just as the train hit a big bump. The door partially slid open and then banged back into the closed position.

  Dan jumped toward the door and tried to pull back the handle.

  He pulled as hard as he could. The door didn’t budge. He turned to Amy, his face ashen.

  “I think it’s jammed. At least on this side. We’re trapped.”

  Amy’s phone buzzed again. It was another text from Jake.

  Get out now!

  But they couldn’t get out.

  And then they heard footsteps growing closer.

  Isabel was almost there.

  And if she found them here, they were dead.

  Amy knew the woman would not miss a second time.

  Another text banged into Amy’s cell phone.

  Get Out Now!!!

  She frantically texted back.

  We’re locked in!!!!

  Dan picked up a bag.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m slugging the first person that comes through that door.”

  Amy looked quickly around the space. The room was small. No place to take cover. They couldn’t hide in the bathroom. It was too tiny; she knew by the one in their compartment. And she assumed that Isabel at some point would have to use the facilities, too. Although part of Amy was not against scaring the woman half to death when she opened the door only to find Dan and herself wedged inside.

  “They’re coming,” hissed Dan. He held the bag higher.

  That’s when Amy saw it. A way out.

  She raced to the far corner of the room.

  “Dan, look, these compartments are modular. The walls can be moved. To make bigger rooms, I guess for families traveling together.”

  “So what?” Dan hissed. “I don’t care about families traveling together. I just don’t want to die.”

  She ignored this and said, “That bad patch of track we passed seems to have dislodged this section of wall.”

  There was a small gap there.

  Dan raced to her side and peered into the next compartment.

  “It looks empty,” he said. “They’ve probably gone to the dining car. But it’s not wide enough for us to get through.”

  “We have to pull and make it bigger. Come on. Help me.”

  She and Dan gripped the edge of the wall and yanked as hard as they could. Amy could feel the wall moving.

  Amy worked out a lot and was stronger than normal kids her age. She was glad of the extra muscle as she felt the wall give even more as it slid along the tracks on the floor.

  “Hurry,” said Dan. “She’s almost here.”

  “Together, then, one-two-three.”

  They each gave a gigantic tug. Dan felt something pop in his shoulder but he didn’t care because the wall slid another foot.

  “Go, go!” said Amy.

  Dan threw himself through the gap.

  Amy followed right behind him.

  They tumbled to the floor but were up again in an instant.

  “Hurry, hurry,” said Amy.

  They pulled on the wal
l again, this time in the opposite direction.

  They could hear Isabel at her door.

  They pulled as hard as they could.

  The wall slid and snapped into place right as they heard Isabel’s door slide open with a bang and close behind her.

  Amy and Dan stood there frozen, trying to catch their breath.

  Dan looked at her and whispered, “What if she sees something that tells her the compartment was searched?”

  Amy shook her head. “Just be ready to run.”

  He nodded and they stood there, listening.

  They heard Isabel moving around the compartment, talking to herself.

  When they heard her release a loud fart, Dan could barely keep from howling with laughter.

  After a few more seconds they heard Isabel settle down in her chair right as the lights on the train came back on.

  Amy slipped to the door to the compartment and peered out the window.

  “Coast looks clear.”

  They slipped out right as an elderly couple came around the corner.

  The man said, “Hey, what were you doing in our compartment?”

  Thinking quickly, Dan said, “We smelled gas. We thought there might be a problem. But it’s okay to go back in.” He had to hide his smile as he thought of Isabel and her loud fart.

  “Do you work for Amtrak?” asked the woman suspiciously. “You’re not wearing uniforms.”

  “And you’re too young, anyway,” added the man accusingly.

  “We’re sort of trainees,” said Amy. “Our uncle is the head conductor. He told us to look around for any problems after the lights went out. We’re going to report to him now. Your compartment is completely safe to re-enter.”

  “But if you continue to smell stinky gas,” said Dan, “I would check with the woman in the compartment next to yours. That might be the source.”

  Sniggering, he and Amy hustled off toward their compartment.

  When they were out of sight of the old couple, they sprinted.

  They hooked back up with Jake and Atticus, who were pacing anxiously in Dan and Amy’s compartment.

  When Jake saw Amy he gave her a quick hug.

  “Omigosh, we didn’t know what to do.”

  Atticus added, “Jake wanted to charge Isabel and her men and sacrifice himself to save you, but I told him that would be both irrational and counterproductive.”

  Amy beamed at Jake. “You were going to do that? For me?”

  “Well, yeah,” said Jake, looking embarrassed.

  Amy gave him another hug and a pat on the back. “Thanks, Jake. My hero.”

  “Hello?” said Dan heatedly. “We did get away by ourselves. So if anyone deserves a pat on the back, it’s us.”

  “Did you find anything in Isabel’s compartment that could be helpful?” asked Atticus.

  Amy nodded. “We found out that Isabel was sending texts to Dan pretending to be our dad.”

  “I’m sorry to hear you discovered that.”

  They whirled around and saw her.

  Isabel Kabra stood there in the doorway with her henchmen, looking triumphant.

  The large truck barreled down the road. Inside the back were the hostages, chained to the truck wall. They all felt every bump and every swerve. Some of them looked sick to their stomachs. They had been riding in the back of the truck for what seemed like days, but actually had been about fifteen hours. After one nauseating lurch, which slammed him against the side of the truck, Ted Starling threw up.

  “Oh, gross,” complained Natalie as she tried to move away from the pile of sick on the truck floor. “That’s disgusting.”

  “Better get used to seeing it,” said Fiske, who looked very pale indeed. “I think before this ride is over we’re all going to vomit.”

  As they went over the top of a hill, the truck almost seemed to take flight. Several of the hostages clutched at their stomachs.

  Ian said, “I think I’m going to be sick, too.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” said his sister. “Lucians don’t get sick to their stomachs.”

  As the truck gave another sickening lurch, Natalie turned green and threw up. She stared down in horror at the pool of puke.

  “You might want to check your Lucian status,” moaned Nellie.

  Nellie wasn’t nauseated, but she’d been getting slammed around with the truck’s movements, and her wounded shoulder had taken most of the impacts. She clutched at it with her hand, as though trying to push the pain away.

  “I bet it’s Cheyenne driving,” complained Hamilton. “She’s a psycho. She’s probably deliberately hitting every pothole she can just to make us suffer.”

  “Of course she is,” snapped Evan. “She’s a Vesper. She’s evil. It’s what evil people do.”

  Reagan said, “It’s cold in here. I suggest that we all run in place and do push-ups to keep warm. Plus it’ll keep our energy up.”

  Fiske held up the shackles they all had on. “And exactly how would you like us to run, Reagan, dear, with these bloody things on?”

  “That’s why I said run in place.”

  “And fall over and knock ourselves out?” snapped Nellie. “I think the healthiest thing for us to do is stay still.”

  “And perhaps we can just all shut up, too,” said Evan heatedly. He was still obviously upset about being captured.

  “I can sing a song,” offered Jonah. “Word.”

  “No!” everyone shouted in unison.

  Evan eyed him threateningly. “Not one note, not one lyric, or I’ll cream you.”

  “Why so hostile all of a sudden, bro?” asked Jonah innocently.

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe being carried by a roller coaster to my death might be a reason,” snapped Evan. “So just sit there and do not even hum.”

  Ted Starling sat in a far corner saying nothing. He was concentrating on every sound he could. He was trying to take in any information that could help him determine where they were being taken. He didn’t know if it would do any good, but it wasn’t like he had anything else to do right now.

  Fiske pulled angrily on his shackles. Each of the hostages was tied together with the same long chain. The chain had been run through a large bolt in the wall of the truck. When Fiske pulled on the chain once more, it hit the side of the truck and dug a divot out of the wood.

  Fiske stared at this divot and then said, “Listen up, everyone, I’ve got an idea.”

  “You have a song you want me to sing?” said Jonah. “We could do a duet. I’ll be baritone. Just follow my lead.”

  “I don’t have a song, you twit. I have a plan. To escape.”

  In the cab of the truck Cheyenne was indeed driving. And, as Hamilton had speculated, she was attempting to hit every pothole, take every curve at top speed, and do her best to make the truck fly over every steep rise in the road.

  “I’ll bet they’re just loving the ride back there,” she said gleefully.

  “Your infantile pleasure with pain and suffering is ingratiating,” said Sandy, who sat next to her. Casper sat on the other side of him looking glum, principally because his sister wouldn’t let him drive.

  “What do you mean by that?” snapped Cheyenne.

  “How much longer?” asked Casper. “I’m hungry.”

  “Just tell your stomach to shut up, dear brother,” barked Cheyenne. “We have a schedule to keep.”

  “Look at that sky,” Sandy said with relish.

  The others eyed the sky. Clouds were going across it so fast it still looked like one of those accelerated weather maps on TV.

  Sandy rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be so good. I’m going to be weatherman of the year.”

  “What’s so great about that?” grunted Casper, who stared moodily out the window, but apparently without seeing what Sandy was referring to.

  “What’s great about that, Casper,” began Sandy as though he were speaking to a child, “is that it has begun.”

  “The Doomsday device?” excla
imed Cheyenne.

  “No,” sneered Sandy. “The aurora borealis. Of course the Doomsday device.”

  “Aurora what?” said Casper, sounding confused.

  “The northern lights,” snapped his sister. “He was being condescending, which is really starting to get on my nerves.” She looked murderously at the weatherman.

  “Now, now, Cheyenne. We’re all on the same team, right?” Sandy’s gaze bored into her.

  She said, “Of course we are.”

  “Excellent, because Vesper One does not tolerate disloyalty. In fact, he hates it so much the only punishment for it is immediate termination. And I don’t mean losing one’s job.”

  He looked over at Casper, who was staring at him nervously.

  “You’ve both seen the refined ways that our peerless leader can dispose of his enemies. So, don’t become his enemies. Just go along for the ride.” He clapped them both on the shoulders. “And you’ll have nothing to worry about. Otherwise, well, let’s not dwell on such unpleasant and lethal possibilities.”

  Sandy closed his eyes and went to sleep while Casper and his sister shot nervous glances at each other.

  The truck raced on while the sky kept doing extra-ordinarily odd things.

  Isabel stared directly at Amy. “So close in DC. So close. How you escaped, I still can’t quite fathom. What did you tell the police?”

  Dan started to say something. But Amy, sensing he was going to tell Isabel how he had fooled her, said, “We told them enough to have them more than a little interested in you. The FBI, too. For the record, they know you bought your way out of prison. They know your AWW is a fraud. And they’re working very hard right now to see that you go back where you belong: prison. In fact, there are several agents on the train right now.”

  Isabel had been looking at her darkly. Now she laughed. “I might have believed you up to that point. There’s nothing easier to spot than an FBI agent. And there are none aboard this train.”

  “Are you absolutely certain of that?” asked Dan smugly.

  “Yes, I am.” She turned to Atticus. “The last Guardian. The truly last Guardian,” she said menacingly.