Gray Skies: Book 3 in the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (Darkness Rising - Book 3)

by Justin Bell

  Though only when the “crazy guy”—as he liked to call the man and others like him—saw Angel’s automatic rifle.

  A few moments of convincing later, the guards had picked up Liu, Angel, and Greer and called in Liu’s friend, and at that point, Max had almost stepped from the shadows to tell them he was coming, too.

  But he heard the low rumble of an old school diesel and for some reason, he shrank back down into the grass. Two headlights sliced through the darkness and a car approached, meandering in the left shoulder, easing past the throng of backed up traffic. Two men in uniform had worked their way free and moved towards the shoulder themselves, and they appeared to be guiding the car forward and allowing them through.

  “Aw, c’mon!” a voice shouted from the shadows.

  “Why are they so special?” came another voice. Max saw the sparkle of a glass bottle arc through the dark sky, just catching the beam of police lights before striking the pavement and exploding into broken shards. As Max pressed himself into the grass, he could see the light-colored sedan easing above and to his right.

  It was a car he recognized. Somehow, some way, miles away, mixed among hundreds of unfamiliar and generic automobiles, his eyes landed on one passing car as it eased its way towards the barricade, being escorted by the border patrol.

  Then he saw the driver.

  A low cloud of blue smoke to match the diesel’s exhaust oozed from the burnt end of a dull, rust colored cigar shoved into Bruce Cavendish’s mouth. He had one hand wrapped around the steering wheel and cocked his head, tossing a crisp wave to one of the agents.

  The agent waved back and waved him through.

  The car continued along towards the barricade and three agents moved towards one of the large wall sections, grabbed it, and peeled it away from the surrounding panels, revealing an opening wide enough for him to drive through.

  “This is bull!” another voice shouted. “We been here for two weeks!”

  The taillights disappeared on the other side of the wall, and the three agents pushed the panel back in place with an echoing metallic bang. Then Bruce Cavendish was gone. Gone as if he’d never been there.

  But he had been there. Max had seen him. Hadn’t he?

  Max remembered standing in the road, looking him dead in the eye, a revolver clutched in his two tight young hands, firing just like Greer had taught him to. Double tap. Eye to eye, across the battlefield. Max had fired, Cavendish had driven.

  Cavendish had won. Brad’s parents were dead, Brad was hurt, and Max had been tossed aside like a spent shell casing. Cavendish wouldn’t be so lucky next time, Max had decided, and Brad had decided right along with him. Max remembered that night, lying in bed, a makeshift ice pack wound tightly around his dislocated hip, with Brad in the bed next to him, healing from the bullets removed from their shallow wounds. They’d turned their heads and looked each other in the eye and swore with their blood they would find Bruce Cavendish and kill him.

  But Max wasn’t sure he could trust his own eyes. Cavendish had made many unexpected appearances since then. When getting out of the shower, Max sometimes saw him in the mirror, lurking in the corner of the bathroom. While on patrol in the days following the shooting, Max had been certain he’d seen him slinking through the alleys, or hiding behind a tree trunk.

  One of the crazy-looking people who had approached him and Brad just a short while ago bore a passing resemblance to the man.

  Had Max really seen him? And if so, why was he getting free passage into Chicago when so many others were stuck outside the city roasting roadkill by an open fire?

  “Max?” Max’s head snapped around at the sound of the voice.

  Clancy Greer came up over the slope, his eyes narrowed and angry. “Did you follow us here?”

  Max nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. I wanted to help.”

  “For crying—Max, your mom is going to be livid!”

  “I can take care of myself, Clancy.”

  “Nobody’s doubting that, boy, but you gotta listen to your mom. She’s already missing a daughter and she saw Brad’s parents shot to death right in front of him. You can’t be putting her through this. The world is bad enough, you understand?”

  Max felt a swift stab of guilt ram at his guts and he chewed his lip. “I get it,” he replied. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to me, you put that in a bag and save it for your mom. You’ll need it.”

  Max tailed behind Greer as they walked back towards the group just in time for Sergeant Jacques to emerge from a small crowd and walk towards Brandon Liu.

  “As I live and breathe, Brandon, how on earth are you?” The two men embraced, slapping each other roughly on the back as they did so.

  “I don’t know, Pete, as good as any of us can be, given the situation.”

  “I hear that,” Jacques replied. He leaned to the side, looking at the surrounding people. “Where’s Chunhua? I figured you would have brought her with you.”

  Liu’s face shifted, and it was all the communication Jacques needed.

  “Aw, man. Brandon, I’m sorry, buddy. So sorry.”

  “Thanks. Only happened a little while ago. Still a little raw, but I’m living through it.”

  Pietro Jacques stepped forward and gave him another hug, then stepped away, patting his shoulder. “This world is in some shape, huh?”

  “Yeah. I’m seeing what can be done about that.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  Liu nodded. “Can we get some privacy, you think?”

  Jacques glanced over at the other agents who were hovering around and gestured for them to disperse. They nodded and stepped backwards, then faded away into the darkness.

  “Okay, you’ve got my attention, Brandon, what’s up?”

  “I’m off the grid on this one, Pete. I’m going a little freelance.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve got reason to believe there may be people in Homeland who can’t be trusted. My wife…Chunhua’s death…there was an attempt on my life, and she got caught in the crossfire.”

  “Get out of here.”

  Brandon shook his head. “It’s the truth. I wish it wasn’t.”

  “Is it because of the nukes?”

  “Yeah.” Liu’s eyes danced around, looking to see who was close by. Once he was satisfied that they were relatively isolated, he continued speaking. “We’ve found ties to domestic elements who likely assisted North Korea in getting the nukes into our borders. It looks like it might have been a concerted effort. It also seems as if at least one of the Mexican cartels was involved.”

  “Seriously?”

  Liu nodded. “And you know, I’m not one for conspiracy theories, but every time I dug up a clue to support this, someone tried to kill me.”

  “So that’s why you’re so far from Boston?”

  “Bingo.”

  “And you’re going to find answers in there?” Jacques asked, jerking his head towards the barricade and the city beyond.

  “Hopefully. A factory out of Springfield produced some housings used in the suitcase nukes. The warehouse has been scuttled, but their corporate offices are in Chicago.”

  “I see.”

  “Plus—and we’re being a little selfish here—my friend here,” he patted Max’s head, eternally covered by the Colorado Rockies baseball cap, “his family is helping me, and they’re missing a member. That member was also last seen in Chi-town.”

  Jacques nodded, looking pensive. “What you’re asking…it’s not easy,” he whispered.

  “I just saw a car go through,” Max said, sounding more accusatory than he meant to.

  The sergeant smirked. “Oh, I know. There are people who can come and go, but it’s tightly controlled. I generally have to pass the names up the chain of command. There’s nasty stuff going on in Chicago right now.”

  “How nasty?”

  “Like total breakdown of civilization nasty. Marshal law nasty. This barricade was originally erected to try to slow the stream
of refugees heading east for fear of population imbalance dragging the rest of the country down with the west. But as time went on, we had to reinforce it and staff it twenty-four seven because things were breaking down in Chicago.”

  “Not good,” said Greer, looking at Max.

  “The very definition of not good,” replied Jacques. “Lots of guns floating around the big city in there, and a few crews of gang bangers thinking they can now become kings of the world. Law enforcement’s spread so thin, things went totally sideways really quickly. Now we’ve got gunfights in the streets, mass looting; it’s like the wild west in there if the wild west had full autos.”

  “Once you get beyond the barricade, you want to get to the Lakeview Shopping Mall. There’s a makeshift town there with some food, running water, and supplies. For some reason, the gang bangers have been leaving it alone and you may find someone there who can help. Lots of refugees have set up shop there.”

  Liu nodded, as they all stood in relative silence, the moderate din from the passing car now eased into silence. Blue lights still pulsed, but the world at large, felt calm.

  “So…what’s it going to be?” Liu asked. “I’ve got four folks in an RV about a quarter mile from here who are waiting for an answer. Two of them are looking for their daughter. What can I tell them?”

  Jacques glanced around nervously, then turned back towards Liu. “Okay. I can make an exception. But once you’re on the inside, you’re on your own, amigo. There ain’t nothing I can do for you in there.”

  “Understood.”

  “And let’s make it quick, okay? We open this gate too many times and questions start getting asked. Questions none of us are going to want to have to answer.”

  “We’re on the same page, man. Thank you. I mean that.” The two men stepped towards each other and gave each other one more aggressive embrace, then Brandon pulled away. “We’ll be back. Give us like ten minutes.”

  “I’ll be here,” Jacques replied. “But at minute eleven, you’re out of luck.”

  Liu nodded and stepped away at a brisk pace, the others falling in close behind.

  “Hey, Clancy,” Max whispered as they walked, hanging back slightly from Liu’s rapid pace.

  “What, kid?” Greer replied.

  “You see that car that went through the gate? Right before you saw me?”

  Greer nodded. “Yeah, I saw you in its headlights, that’s how I knew you were there.”

  “I’m pretty sure Bruce Cavendish was behind the wheel.”

  “What? Are you sure about that?”

  Max hesitated slightly in his reply. “I can’t be sure. But I’m pretty sure.”

  Greer turned to look straight again, his eyes following the rapid form of Liu’s speed walking. He didn’t reply, though he silently picked up his pace, moving behind Agent Liu as they stormed back towards the RV and the rest of the Fraser clan.

  ***

  “Max what were you thinking?” shouted Rhonda, stomping at a swift pace towards the crew as they approached the RV.

  “Mom, give me a break,” Max started, but Rhonda interrupted him, stepping towards him, pressing both palms to his arms and squeezing.

  “You can’t just run off, okay? I know you can handle yourself. I know. But I can’t lose you, sweetheart, okay? I can’t lose you.”

  Max’s cheeks flushed and his eyes darted away briefly, looking over at Liu.

  “We’ve got a window,” Liu said. “My contact will get the door open for a quick moment, but we have to move right now.”

  Rhonda smiled widely. “Oh goodness, thank you, Brandon. Thank you so much.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Brandon replied. “According to Jacques it’s the wild west behind those walls. From the sounds of it, it’s going to be more than a little dangerous. He advised that as soon as we get past the barricade we make our way to the Lakeview Shopping Mall where a bunch of refugees are holed up; it’s apparently about fifteen miles north of Peoria.”

  “If Lydia is there…we need to go. I need to go,” Rhonda said.

  Liu nodded. “I get it. I want to get in there, too, but I needed to warn you what we’re dealing with here. We’re going to be stuck behind those walls for who knows how long. I’m not sure what exactly to expect with the mall, but it’s a place to start.”

  Winnie’s eyes drifted from Liu and landed on Max, narrowing and she looked at him. Liu and Rhonda kept talking and Winnie stepped forward over towards Max.

  “What’s wrong, Max?” she asked in a low whisper. “Something’s bugging you.”

  Max glanced over towards his mother, then turned back towards his sister. Brad approached from his right as well, joining in with the pair.

  “What’s the matter, Max?” Brad asked.

  Max looked at Brad, then back at his sister, then looked back over at his mother, making sure she wasn’t paying attention.

  “I think I might have seen Bruce Cavendish,” he whispered. “Driving a car through the gate.”

  Brad’s face clenched like a fist. “What?”

  “Are you sure?” Winnie said.

  “I’m pretty sure,” Max replied.

  “Why aren’t you telling mom?”

  “I don’t want to worry her,” Max replied. “And I don’t want to get her over-protective motor running.”

  “She needs to know.”

  “No she doesn’t,” Brad replied. “If she knows, she might not let us go.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go?” Winnie asked.

  “We’re going,” Brad said, his voice nearly a snarl. “I’m going to find Bruce Cavendish and I’m going to kill him.”

  Winnie’s eyes widened as if she was looking at the young boy for the first time.

  Max stepped over closer to Brad. “We made a promise to each other, Win,” he whispered. “We’re going to kill him together. For everything he’s done to us. For what he did to Brad’s parents.”

  Winnie shook her head. “This isn’t some Hollywood action movie! You’re talking about actual life and death, you dummies.”

  Brad nodded. “His death. Cavendish’s death. He has to pay.”

  Winnie rolled her eyes and shook her head, sighing heavily.

  “Don’t tell mom,” Max hissed. “Please. For us. For Brad. Please, Winnie.”

  Winnie lowered her glare again, looking at Max.

  “Please,” Brad reiterated.

  Winnie shook her head again and turned away but joined the rest of the group and didn’t say anything to her mother.

  Max started to step forward, but Brad’s hand clamped on his shoulder.

  “Don’t forget our deal,” Brad said, pulling Max towards him. “Don’t forget, okay?”

  “I remember, buddy,” Max replied quietly. “I won’t forget, I promise.” The two clasped hands. “You saved my mom and my sister. I owe you one.”

  Brad nodded, and they released hands.

  “The real question is,” Max continued, “why did Cavendish get access behind the gate? Does he have a friend in the government like Brandon does? Or is it something else?”

  Brad looked at Max as if this was the first time the thought had occurred to him. “Could the militia be working with the government? Helping keep law and order?”

  Max shrugged. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

  Brad nodded, agreeing with the sentiment.

  “Max? Brad? We need to get moving,” Phil said from the doorway to the RV. Max looked over and noticed that most of the clan had already gone inside, so he and Brad headed over, climbed the stairs, and went inside.

  “So what’s the plan?” Max asked.

  Rhonda shot him a disapproving look, but Phil spoke up. “We’re loading up and getting ready to head in. But we expect everyone to be prepared and to follow directions.” He looked squarely at Max when he said this and Max nodded.

  Rhonda moved towards the front of the vehicle and started it up, while Phil migrated forward and took a seat in the passenger seat.
<
br />   The engine roared to life, and the RV started to push forward while Greer stood and moved towards Max and Brad.

  “Max, talk to me,” he said.

  “About what?” Max asked, glancing around nervously.

  “You didn’t tell your mom about who you saw.”

  Max shrugged. “I don’t know if I really saw him. My eyes play tricks on me sometimes.”

  Greer scowled at him. “I don’t buy that and I don’t think you do either, kid. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t want to freak her out,” Max said. “She’s all excited about Lydia, I don’t want to change her mind.”

  “You mean you don’t want her to use that as an excuse to not go inside. What are you boys planning?”

  “We’ve got our reasons,” Brad interjected. “We made a promise. A promise to each other.”

  Greer crossed his arms as the RV rattled over the uneven pavement. “What kind of promise would that be?”

  “It’s not important,” Brad said, glancing away.

  Greer uncrossed his arms and used a hand to hold himself steady as the vehicle moved, shifting over a patch of grass as it navigated around a group of vehicles.

  “Are you sure about that?” Greer asked. “Sounds like it might be important.”

  Brad looked back at him, focusing on the iron resiliency of Clancy’s eyes. He wanted to tell him what he was thinking. He wanted his support, but inside, he knew he’d never get it.

  “Don’t worry about it, okay? Just the anger talking.”

  Greer looked down for a moment, drawing in a sharp intake of breath. He steadied himself, then looked back up at the boys.

  “I understand, Brad. You’re going through a very tough time. I trust in you to do the right thing when and if the time comes.”

  Brad’s eyes darted away, not able to hold their place within the grip of Clancy’s gaze. A lead ball dropped into his stomach, and he coughed lightly.

  “I want you both to know,” Greer said, standing back up, “you’re not alone in this. If you think you might be considering something stupid, come and talk to me, okay? Bring it to me first, before you do something you can’t take back. Understood?”