Minus America Box Set | Books 1-5

by Isherwood, E. E.

ER had reached the fence and turned around to wave him in.

  “Stop!” he said quietly, while trying to get the man’s attention over to the robot cat.

  Lieutenant Ramirez either didn’t see him or didn’t understand his signals, because he continued to wave him over.

  The robotic animal trotted toward ER, who finally noticed it.

  Ted expected him to run back to the truck, but he held his ground and put his hands up.

  “What are you doing?” he wondered.

  The robot spoke with a female computer voice. “Security inquiry: please state your name and social security number.”

  ER spoke in a serious tone. “I’m Thomas the Train. My number is 1-2-3-4-5. Does that compute?”

  “Confirming,” the woman’s voice replied.

  Ted considered using his rifle to do harm to the robot, but the machine was directly in front of the soldier. It would break about ten gun-handling rules he’d learned in basic.

  There was only one real option at that point.

  He stomped on the gas.

  The truck lurched off the curb and into the street. He immediately had to shift into second gear because of his payload. The weight advantage that was going to destroy the gate also slowed him down.

  He left it in second gear for the last thirty feet. The engine whined like it was going to blow up, but that served as a warning for ER to get out of the way.

  The robot heard it too, and its head spun around like an owl’s. Ramirez jumped to his left as soon as it looked away. That gave Ted the green light to plow into the robot and the front gate at the same time.

  “Smile for the camera!” he shouted.

  The big rig smacked into the robot’s delicate-looking machinery and pushed it into the heavy metal gate. The black tubing bent forward, toward the White House driveway, as he kept on the gas and bulled through the entrance.

  Ted gripped the wheel like a vise to keep it steady. His pilot’s sense of depth perception helped him place the truck exactly between the two posts of the gate. The mirrors on both sides were sheared off, but the rest of the dumper went through.

  He didn’t dare stop, because he wasn’t sure if the robotic animal was going to hop back up and attack him, like in every monster movie ever made. He continued around the circular driveway for about fifty yards to the awning reserved for foreign dignitaries and heads of state.

  He half-opened his door to look back. The robot wasn’t anywhere on the ground behind him, so he figured it was stuck to his grille, along with the remains of the gate.

  Once he’d shut off the engine and hopped down, he hesitated to make sure his partner was all right.

  “I’m fine!” the lieutenant shouted as he ran up the driveway. “Just a minor flesh wound.” The soldier held up his elbow to show blood had soaked through his uniform sleeve.

  “You’ll live,” Ted said quietly.

  When ready to face whatever was left of the security cat, he got his M4 rifle ready, then crept forward to see what was left.

  “Hoo, boy, we jacked this thing good,” he said with relief.

  The main body had slid under the front bumper, and all four legs were bent. The black-wedge head was squished against the metal grille of the truck, and the whole mechanical beast was surrounded by the remains of the black metal gate. If the truck backed up, the robot might get free, but otherwise it would take a blow torch to break it out.

  It broadcast no lights or sounds, but he sensed there was activity in the black head.

  “We have to hurry!” he shouted.

  Bonne Terre, MO

  Tabby looked back; the teens were still coming.

  “Phew,” she thought.

  She’d kicked and pumped her arms slow enough she didn’t get away from them, but also fast enough they couldn’t catch up. However, her own pacing had been uneven and now she was a little too far ahead, so she watched as they swam out of the gloom.

  She also eyed the remaining pressure in her tank.

  “Crap.” There was no more than fifteen minutes of air before it would be necessary to tap into the tiny reserve bottle.

  They’d gone about two hundred yards in the dark tunnel, which was amazing for first-timers. She considered waiting for the three to catch all the way up, so she could give them high-fives and pats on the back, but it seemed more important to pull them forward.

  Tabby waved at them when they were about ten feet away, then kicked off the train track to continue swimming into the tunnel.

  “Please follow me,” she begged.

  After another five minutes of swimming, she couldn’t hold out any longer and had to stop again. This time, the kids were farther back than they were before.

  “They’re getting tired,” she acknowledged.

  SCUBA diving was an all-body sport. When wearing fins, much of the heavy lifting was done with the legs, but the kids had to kick with bare feet, in the cold dark, and with unfamiliar equipment. It was a testament to their willpower they’d gotten as far as they did.

  She spun around on tiptoes, content to survey the tracks and tunnel while the kids caught up. Tabby had begun to wonder if the miners built the passageway to be an out-and-back. A place where they dug out lead in a straight line, never needing to expand the route or go to the surface. If so, they were in trouble.

  Her light went far down the tracks, but the parallel metal guide seemed to go into the wall at a certain point.

  The kids came closer and provided a little additional light, even though the beams jerked unevenly with their swim strokes.

  “This is…”

  She shuffled for a few steps, then hopped into an urgent breaststroke over to where the train tracks disappeared.

  “The end!”

  There was no question the tracks reached an end, but not the one she wanted.

  As fast as her heart leapt with excitement, it now crashed with disappointment. The train tracks ended at a wooden structure that was once a mine chute for the railway cars. When the train reached the end of the track, a wood and metal device tipped the car, so the contents spilled into a pit.

  She was still staring into the dark maw when someone poked her on the shoulder.

  “Peter!” she said in her regulator. Peter would only hear a vague noise, not the actual words, but she was so happy to see him she didn’t care.

  The boy shifted so Audrey had a view into the pit, but she pushed him back like she didn’t want to see.

  “This is going to suck,” she thought.

  If they were going to find an exit, it had to be down in the pit. There were three flooded levels to the mine. Dad had said that many times. If this train dumped debris down a level, it had to be so it could be removed from the mine a different way.

  Tabby wanted to tell the kids this was good news.

  She waved at them, then stepped off the edge of the pit without a good-bye or other hesitation. The tour was going downstairs, and she worked hard to convey a sense of purpose to those taking her journey.

  Her light pierced the mysterious blackness below as she floated down, but it wasn’t as deep as she feared. Perhaps thirty feet from her to the kids. She landed on top of a huge pile of tailings, which were rocks and gravel that had fallen from the mine buckets. That disturbance created a flush of debris below her feet, which fanned out around her.

  As she shined her light toward the top to get the kids to jump, she noticed a faint glow down one of the tunnels on the new level.

  “Holy cow! It has to be!”

  She guided her flashlight where she was looking. Another broken set of railway track headed into a brighter chamber.

  “Woohoo!” she cried out.

  The kids remained on the edge of the pit above her. She tried to wave them down, but they didn’t seem to want to jump.

  She tried to kick off and swim up to them, but the slag gave way and her feet mushed into the tailings. For a couple of seconds, she shifted her legs and thrust her arms like the pile might eat her up.
The resulting frenzy of movement created a larger cloud of debris around her as if she were an octopus dumping ink. However, she managed to clear the pile and kick a few times to get away.

  When she caught her breath and subdued her skittish nerves, she glanced up to see how far she needed to go. The kids seemed like they were a mile away.

  They still weren’t coming, so she had to take action. A good tour leader was expected to collect her followers, no matter what.

  Tabby’s lungs labored hard as she kicked up the rock tube toward the kids. She appreciated the colossal difference between swimming with or without fins. If they got out and went back to the mine, she was going to fill the whole tourist boat with fins and masks so this couldn’t happen again.

  When she finally came out of the hole, the teens hadn’t moved. Some of the floating debris came up with her, clouding the area and making it hard to see.

  “Exit!” she cried out as loud as she could.

  Tabby floated over and went right for Audrey. She would be the key to the whole group. After grabbing a strap on the girl’s shoulder harness, she pointed to the ground.

  “I hope this works,” she thought.

  She got near the ground and used her finger to write in the sediment. At first, she believed the floating debris was going to make it impossible to see anything. She wrote the word but could barely see it herself. However, after a minute or two of excited breathing, she shined her light on it again. The cloudy water had cleared up enough to see through.

  “EXIT!”

  She didn’t turn around or look at the kids, because movement would disrupt the fragile landscape, as it did on the tailings pile. However, she blasted her light on the word to make it clear what she was doing.

  A second light joined hers. Soon, there were four lights on that lone word.

  The tour guide maintained her role as she rose and floated over to her charges. With a series of gentle nudges, she motioned the three kids over to the edge again. It was extra murky over the hole, but she believed it had to be obvious where they needed to go.

  For a few seconds, each of them resisted going over the side, but Tabby firmly pushed them past their limits.

  “We can do this!” she mumbled in her regulator.

  The four of them went over.

  CHAPTER 20

  Newport News, VA

  “I’m Captain Maximillian Van Nuys. I never thought I’d be so glad to see the Marines.” The white-suited naval officer traded salutes with Carthager, who had stepped up to the front.

  “We’re glad to see you, too, sir. That banging guided us in.”

  “Some asshole put a bag over my head, zip-tied me, and dragged me down here to this maintenance closet. I managed to get the zips and bag off, but I didn’t have anything to break through the door.” He looked around and caught sight of Kyla the civilian, but then returned his gaze to the big Marine. “What’s the situation?”

  Carthager replied. “Do you know about the missing crew?”

  The captain shook his head. “Tell me.”

  “Sir, everyone above deck 6 is dead.”

  “Everyone?” he asked sarcastically. “Be serious.”

  The sergeant bowed. “I’m sorry, sir. It was everyone.”

  Van Nuys resisted the news for a few seconds but then leaned against the wall like he’d been shot. “There had to be some survivors, right? We’re still afloat. I haven’t heard any alarms for a long time…”

  “We know there are a few sailors down here on the engineering decks, but no one is up top. They’re all gone, sir.” Carthager spoke in a surprisingly kind voice. “We still don’t know how the enemy did it, or even who they are, but we’ve been fighting a contingent of soldiers pretending to be Marines since it happened a couple of hours ago.”

  Kyla was shocked that much time had passed, but she checked her watch to confirm it was nearly lunchtime now.

  “Do you have the upper hand?” Van Nuys inquired.

  “We mopped ‘em up, sir. They are tough down in the hallways, but we caught them up in the hangar and ate them for lunch.”

  “Good. It sounds like they’re thin on the ground. My captors said they needed me because of what’s up here.” He tapped his temple. “I now realize why. I have codes, knowledge, and biometrics. I’m the keycard for the bastards after they win their battle.”

  “Looks that way, sir,” the sergeant replied.

  The captain took a deep breath. “I want to see my dead crew.”

  Carthager stood there like he didn’t know what to say.

  “What is it?” Van Nuys asked.

  “There’s nothing left, sir. As in, not a damn drop of blood. They all vanished during the attack.”

  “It sucked them all off the decks?”

  “No, sir. I don’t know how to explain it—”

  Kyla took a chance. “Captain, sir, I saw the results. The people are gone, but their uniforms are left in place. It’s like they zapped out of existence, leaving only what they had on their bodies.”

  Carthager pointed at Kyla. “She’s got it right. There’s a thousand uniforms upstairs, but no people.”

  “I can’t believe it,” the captain deadpanned.

  The big Marine seemed to stand taller. “We have three squads of FAST Marines on board. I’ve been on decks 7 up through 1. Bravo has reported there are no survivors on the bridge. It’s a total loss above 6.”

  “You’ve been fighting the scouts, Sergeant. I don’t think they expected much resistance after using their superweapon, but you’ve surprised them. However, this is a symbolic target they won’t ignore. The JFK is the newest and most expensive ship in the United States Navy. They’ll send everything they have to get it once they realize we can still fight.”

  “We’re ready!” Carthager declared.

  The captain turned to Kyla. “And who are you, ma’am?”

  “I’m, uh, just a programmer, sir. I’m with Southern Cross Contracting.”

  “You have a name?”

  “Kyla Justice.”

  “Well, Kyla, you’re coming with me.”

  “Sir?” she said with surprise. “I was with these guys.” If there were more battles to be fought, she wanted to be with the Marines.

  “He’s the boss, dudette,” Meechum joked. “You do what he says.”

  Some of the Marines snickered.

  “Your job—” Van Nuys jabbed a finger back at Carthager. “—is to repel any invaders, so I can get the boat moving. If we can get off the dock, it will be a lot harder to board us.”

  “Aye, Captain.” The sergeant saluted.

  “Ms. Kyla and I are going to find more sailors,” Van Nuys added matter-of-factly.

  “No shit?” Kyla blurted out, instantly feeling her face turn red.

  The Marines laughed openly. Carthager shifted to be next to her, then he slapped her on the back. “Just to let you know, sir, we poke fun at this dudette, but she pulled one of your men to safety during a firefight. That’s how we knew there were fake Marines on the red team.”

  Captain Van Nuys rubbed his chin. “I see. Sounds like the kind of woman we need today, especially if most of my crew is dead, as you say.”

  “Move out,” the sergeant barked to his squad.

  The Marines cleared out in ten or fifteen seconds, leaving Kyla alone with the captain. She immediately felt self-conscious, as if she was being measured and weighed. When she met eyes with the man, she was certain that’s what was happening.

  “I’m ready to help,” she said, to cut through the uneasy feeling.

  Van Nuys came out of his bubble of thought. “Right. We’ll stick together until we find some extra hands. I know someone else has to be down here. What’s your speciality?”

  “Oh, they brought me in to work on automating lots of maintenance routines with the nuclear-powered engines. It won’t pilot the ship, of course, but it could cut down on the number of people you’d need in the engineering and reactor departments.”

&nb
sp; “That’s good thinking, if a bit naïve. This ship already has a lot of automation, which is why our crew is smaller than those older Nimitz-class flattops, but if we lost most of my people, we’re probably not going anywhere far.”

  “You told the Marines we were going to put to sea,” she said, as if the captain could forget his own words.

  Van Nuys got closer. “I received orders to allow a FAST platoon to come aboard, but I didn’t get to meet them. How do we know they’re legitimate?”

  “They seemed all right. They helped me and my friend…although the dummy eventually ran off and probably jumped ship.”

  “We can’t trust anyone, Kyla. Now I need you to do me a solid before we do anything else.”

  “Sure, whatever you want.”

  The captain looked at a nearby stairwell. “I want to go up a few decks so I can see what’s left of my crew. No matter how little there is, no one is going to stop me from seeing what we’re up against.”

  Kyla didn’t know if it was the right thing for a civilian to do, but she saluted.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Washington, D.C.

  “Thanks for the save, Major,” Ramirez said gravely.

  “Don’t sweat it. Whoever was in charge of that thing knows we’re here. Help me get inside.” Ted ran up to the small double-door that served as the entrance. Five or six outfits lay on the ground near the door, and more clothes were scattered around the foyer inside.

  “It looks like a tour group was here,” he said with dismay.

  The door was slightly ajar because someone’s shoe was lodged in the jam.

  He was prepared to drive the dump truck through the wall if he had to, but he was happy it wasn’t necessary. Those poor tourists were at precisely the right spot to help him on his mission.

  “Sorry, folks,” he said to the shirts, hats, and shoes, “we have to get through here.” He and ER ran through the security checkpoint, causing the alarms to trigger, but no guards came running to relieve them of their rifles.

  “Let’s split up,” ER suggested. “I’ll start in the residential section up top. You start in the basement.”

  The VP had given him some tips on the White House’s layout and what would happen in an emergency, so he had an idea where to go to find the president, but he didn’t like the idea of splitting up.