ALSO BY STEVEN KONKOLY
THE FRACTURED STATE SERIES
Fractured State
THE PERSEID COLLAPSE SERIES
The Jakarta Pandemic
The Perseid Collapse
Event Horizon
Point of Crisis
Dispatches
THE BLACK FLAGGED SERIES
Black Flagged Alpha
Black Flagged Redux
Black Flagged Apex
Black Flagged Vector
WAYWARD PINES KINDLE WORLD
GENESIS SERIES
First Contact
Last Betrayal
Sanctuary
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2017 by Steven Konkoly
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503940338
ISBN-10: 1503940330
Cover design by Cyanotype Book Architects
To Kosia, Matthew, and Sophia, the heart and soul of my writing
CONTENTS
PART I
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
PART II
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
PART III
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
PART IV
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
PART V
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
PART VI
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PART I
CHAPTER 1
The dune buggy carrying Nathan and his family slowed with the rest of the convoy as they drew even with a dense stand of trees several hundred feet to the left of the road.
After bypassing a lifeless town along one of the few paved roads they had encountered, they’d driven at breakneck speed down this unimproved dirt path for the past fifteen minutes. This was the first time they’d slowed since emerging from the tunnel under the border.
The mix of tall Mexican elders and low, sprawling mesquite surrounded a modest, hacienda-style home, mostly concealing it from view. Some kind of rendezvous point, Nathan suspected.
The synthetic daylight image provided by Nathan’s helmet-mounted night-vision goggles confirmed his suspicion. Two military transport trucks with covered cargo beds appeared beyond the far corner of the hacienda as their dune buggy continued down the road. A few SUVs were parked behind the military trucks. Nathan looked over his shoulder; the last compound they had passed was a speck on the horizon behind the last dune buggies on the road.
“What is this place?” yelled Nathan.
The driver half turned his head. “One of our staging areas. We’ll swap the dune buggy for a more comfortable ride. We have a long drive ahead of us.”
Keira looked at him from the front passenger seat. He couldn’t see her expression beyond the night-vision goggles pulled over her face, but he could guess what she was thinking. Where the hell was Jose taking them?
The first dune buggy in the column turned sharply toward the hacienda, and the rest of the squat vehicles followed. Looking across the empty expanse of sparse scrub brush between the road and house, Nathan wondered why they followed one another so closely. Then he noticed the signs. Yellow background with a black skull and crossbones on the top; black with the yellow words DANGER—MINES on the bottom half. Either the signs had been posted as a deterrent, or Jose wasn’t messing around.
“Dad. Look.” Owen was pointing at one of the signs less than twenty feet from their vehicle.
“I see it,” said Nathan. “I’m sure the driver sees it, too.”
“We’re good to go,” said the driver.
The signs ended once they reached the trees, and the dune buggies headed toward the group of trucks and SUVs parked next to the hacienda. As soon as the buggies stopped, the soldiers that had hitched a ride with Jose’s team jumped to the hard-packed ground and began unloading their gear. They were loading their spent parachutes and packs into the military vehicles before Nathan got Owen unbuckled from the dune buggy and lowered him to the dirt. The trucks’ diesel engines roared to life moments later, carrying the soldiers back down the same path through the middle of the minefield.
“Almost like they didn’t exist,” said Keira, standing next to him.
“Not ‘almost,’” said a voice to their right. “As far as anyone here is concerned, they don’t exist.”
Nathan and Keira turned to face Jose, who walked briskly toward them.
“You’re working for the Mexican government?” said Nathan. “I suppose that makes sense.”
Mexico stood to gain from an independent California, particularly in terms of trade agreements. Federally imposed trade restrictions with Mexico had hit California hard, severely limiting the amount of petroleum the state could import. Even worse, the new antitrade laws rendered California’s plan to fund the construction of several nuclear triad plants in Baja California impossible. The deal surrounding the nuclear plants would have guaranteed a significant source of fresh water and electricity for California.
“Nathan. I guarantee you I’m not working for the Mexicans. I can’t wait to explain everything to you, but it can’t happen now. I need to get you on the road immediately. Grab your gear and follow me,” said Jose, gesturing for them to move toward the SUVs.
“Where are we headed?”
“Let’s walk and talk. I seriously need to get you moving.”
Nathan helped Keira shoulder her backpack, then grabbed his own. They walked as a family with Jose to the running vehicles.
“I’m sending you about four hours south to a coastal town called Puerto Peñasco, where you’ll take a boat to Cabo San Lucas.”
Keira beat him to his q
uestion: “How long will we be on that boat?”
He held queasy memories of more than a few spur-of-the-moment, beer-fueled Friday-night road trips to Cabo in college. The prospect of spending twenty-plus hours in a car driving through Mexico had sounded far less appealing the next day, nursing a hangover. If the trip to Puerto Peñasco took four hours, that still left them with a lot of distance to cover—on a boat.
“Admittedly, the transit will take about twenty-four hours,” said Jose. “But it’ll take you completely off the grid for a full day. We’ll sneak you ashore in Cabo.”
“That’s a long time in a boat,” said Nathan.
“It’s a luxury yacht,” said Jose. “Trust me, it won’t be uncomfortable, and you’ll be completely safe. Same with your accommodations in Cabo. Totally secure. You’ll have a private beach—the works.”
“Whoa,” said Owen.
“It really is a nice place, and you guys deserve a break,” said Jose.
Nathan almost started to tell Jose about their plans to travel north and meet up with his parents, but decided to keep that to himself. Jose had snatched them from the jaws of death, but he was still a complete stranger whose ultimate motivations were unclear. With Nathan’s parents safely hidden in Idaho, there was no reason to turn down Jose’s offer. Not that he really had a choice.
Jose ushered them to a white SUV and opened the rear gate so they could off-load their backpacks and rifles. While Nathan swung his pack into the cargo compartment, he saw a man carrying a body over his shoulder toward the next SUV in the column. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head. Keira stood next to him, watching the somber event.
“I’ll see you in a few days,” said Jose.
“You’re not coming with us?”
“Unfortunately, I have to tend to a few things before I can break free. I’ll explain everything in Cabo.”
“What happens after Cabo?” said Nathan.
“That’s completely up to you. I promise.”
Nathan shook his hand. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Nathan,” he said, accepting Keira’s hand next.
“We owe you for this,” she said.
“You don’t owe me anything,” said Jose.
“Where’s Mr. Quinn?” said Owen.
“He’ll be in a different SUV,” said Jose.
“Why?”
“Well, he . . . uh . . . ,” Jose faltered.
“He’s riding with Alison,” said Keira.
“Oh,” said Owen.
“I’ll see you guys soon,” said Jose.
Less than a minute later, they had threaded their way out through the mines and were headed south on the dirt road that had brought them to the hacienda. Their dune buggy driver had assumed the same role for their transit to Puerto Peñasco. A second heavily armed and body armor–clad operative sat in the front passenger seat, his head panning back and forth as he scanned the sides of the road ahead with night-vision goggles. Nathan craned his neck between the rear bench headrests, examining the compartment behind them. His rifle and Keira’s weapon were within easy reach if needed.
Nathan squeezed his wife’s hand. Her arm was draped around Owen, pulling him tight against her vest, as the SUV bounced on the rough dirt road. She squeezed back and smiled under her night-vision goggles.
“You should close your eyes and get some sleep,” said Nathan. “We’re in good hands.”
Their vehicle was squeezed between two SUVs loaded with Jose’s people, heading rapidly away from the border.
“What about you?” she whispered back.
“I’ll rest when we’re on the boat.”
“All right.”
Keira raised her goggles and looked through the windows before leaning her helmet against Owen’s and closing her eyes.
“It’s dark out there,” she said.
“There’s nothing to see, really.”
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you more.”
Nathan surveyed the landscape, seeing little more than scrub and the occasional tree. A line of utility poles appeared in the distance ahead of them, growing closer as the convoy sped down the road. When they reached the tall wooden posts, the SUVs turned right onto a paved two-lane road.
“What road is this?” said Nathan.
The driver responded, “It’s part of the Highway 2 bypass. We’ll take this south for about ten minutes, then use an old farming road to cross the Colorado River and intersect with Highway 40. Forty takes us most of the way to Puerto Peñasco.”
“Thank you.”
He had more questions, but he didn’t want to distract Jose’s people from the critical task at hand—safely transporting his family south. That was the only thing that mattered right now. Getting them as far away from Cerberus as possible.
The convoy navigated through the lifeless expanse of land that had long ago given up its fertile soil. Every half mile or so they passed a derelict irrigation well on the side of the road, recognizable solely by the concrete footing that had once supported a pump. Thirty years ago, the hardscrabble ground flanking this road would have held lush green fields of cotton or vegetable plants. The water fight north of the border had destroyed the Colorado River Valley in Mexico.
Their SUV dipped in and out of a shallow gulley.
“You just crossed the Colorado River,” said the driver. “Hard as concrete. You can cross anywhere south of the border at any time, outside of flash flood season.”
Soon after crossing the dry riverbed, they turned south on another two-lane paved road that his driver identified as Highway 40. They’d follow this road along the eastern banks of the Sea of Cortez until they reached their destination. Nathan had just contemplated shutting his eyes when the SUV slowed. He leaned over Owen, peering between the front seats at the road ahead, unable to determine why the driver had decelerated.
“What’s happening?”
“Lead vehicle spotted a checkpoint ahead,” said the driver. “They’ll check it out and report.”
Their SUV came to a gentle stop while the lead vehicle continued down the highway.
“Will it be a problem?”
“Depends. We have agreements in place with federal and state police authorities, and the local cartel, but the situation is fluid. Nighttime checkpoints are pretty rare.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
“Usually bad. You might want to grab your rifle and wake your wife.”
“I’m awake,” said Keira.
Nathan reached over the seat and retrieved Keira’s MP-20, placing it in the foot well between her legs before grabbing his rifle.
“Windows down,” said the front passenger, lowering his window and unlocking the SUV’s doors. “Keep the hardware out of sight for now.”
Nathan pressed the button to lower his window, breathing in the cool night air. He glanced at Keira, who fumbled for the button with her one free hand.
“Lower your night vision,” said Nathan.
“I got her window,” said the driver, the glass next to Keira dropping quickly.
She flipped the goggles in place and gently moved Owen off her shoulder. Pulling the MP-20 into her lap, she faced the door and asked Nathan if he could see anything.
Nathan leaned his head out of the window, staring down the road. The lead SUV had traveled about several hundred yards, approaching three military-style vehicles arranged in a roadblock. At least one of the vehicles had some kind of turret-mounted machine gun. He lifted his goggles, weary of the bright synthetic daylight image, taking in the scene with the naked eye. The cluster of vehicles blocking the road was little more than a shadowy silhouette.
“Shouldn’t we find another way?” said Nathan. “This looks serious.”
“Highway 40 is the only easy way south. When the river started to dry out, they built a maze of concrete irrigation canals here. No way to get past those. We might be able to buy our way through if this is a group of bored federales.”
> “What if it isn’t?”
“We could backtrack a little and work our way west to Highway 4. That would take us south through a shithole of a town called Estación Coahuila. Jose wanted us to steer clear of it.”
As if on cue, a sudden explosion due west of the SUV exposed a distant town—the shithole in question, Nathan guessed. Streams of green tracers floated across the horizon between the low buildings, answered by red tracers headed in the opposite direction. Nathan couldn’t guess the distance, but it felt uncomfortably close. Dozens of tracers ricocheted skyward, arching into the flat landscape surrounding the town. He lowered his goggles, changing the scene to daylight. Colored tracers continued to race back and forth through the distant town.
Their driver addressed the lead vehicle over the radio net. “Alpha, this is Echo. You seeing this? What’s going on up there?”
“What did they say?” said Nathan, after waiting a few seconds.
“There’s some kind of serious military operation going on in Estación Coahuila.”
“Maybe we should get behind the vehicle,” said Nathan. “Ricochets are going everywhere.”
“The town is more than a mile away,” said the passenger. “We’re fine here.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Nathan.
A line of green tracers zipped over the highway ahead of them, passing above the vehicles at the roadblock. The nearby sound of rapid gunfire followed moments later.
“Contact. Right!” yelled the driver. “Outbound from the town!”
Nathan aimed his rifle through the open window next to him, searching for the source of gunfire. A pickup truck, followed closely by a sedan, raced toward the roadblock from the west, in what appeared to be a desperate attempt to flee the military forces converging on the town. A machine gun mounted to the roof of the pickup truck unleashed another long burst of green tracers, which appeared to strike the cluster of military vehicles blocking their escape.
“Grab Owen and get down next to the SUV!” said Nathan.
Keira reacted swiftly, opening the left passenger door and pulling Owen onto the pavement. Nathan followed, dropping to the highway next to them and pushing them toward the back of the SUV. He raised his head high enough to look through the rear passenger windows, then lowered it immediately—the two vehicles had turned off the road, trying to bypass the roadblock. The evasive maneuver pointed them directly at Nathan’s SUV.
Rogue State (Fractured State Series Book 2) Page 1
