Minus America Box Set | Books 1-5

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Ah, much better. I think you got off easy compared to some of the injured men and women in those lost containers.”

  Those words meant nothing to him, but he nodded anyway.

  Poppy whispered in his ear.

  “No, I can’t give you one of the jumpsuits,” he fumed at barely a whisper.

  “What did you say?” the man asked.

  “Nothing. I should be going, thanks for all your help.”

  “Very funny, uh … What’s your name? Mine’s Jacob.”

  “I’m Poppy. No! What am I saying? My name is Dwight Inverness.”

  “Inverness? I don’t recall anyone with that name on the manifest.” Dwight withered as the man peered at him with the intensity of a police interrogation light. However, his smile soon returned. “But, to be honest, there are so many of us, how could I remember all the last names? Am I right?”

  Dwight nervously laughed.

  “Here, eat up. They were about to put the table away, but there are still a few morsels for latecomers. When you’ve downed a little, I’ll take you to the departure point. The boss is going to give us a big speech before we get on the motorcycles.”

  “Motorcycles? Where are we going?”

  “How could you forget your destination?”

  Poppy whispered in his ear again about lying. He was pleased that she’d kept her voice low around other people. Especially, Jacob.

  “Of course I remember it. Where are you going?”

  “Folsom, California,” he said proudly. “That’s where most of this detachment is headed. It’s the first burn point for us, plus there’s going to be a big show, too.”

  “That’s where I’m going,” Dwight announced, much to his own surprise.

  “Great!” Jacob slapped him on the back. Dwight steadied himself and ensured Poppy didn’t fall off, then he turned his double-vision on the food table.

  “I’ll feel better once I’ve had a little grub.”

  “Go for it. I’ll wait right here.”

  He listened as Poppy cawed in his ear.

  “I know,” he said to her as he lined up behind a few stragglers at the spread of food.

  Poppy was on the same page as him, for once. He had to get out of there as fast as he could.

  CHAPTER 23

  New York City, NY

  Ted ran down the remaining flights of stairs two at a time. Emily lagged behind but he didn’t mind. It gave him a few moments to visualize what would happen next. Hopefully, just more running, but, if necessary, he had his AR primed for action. When she arrived and saw him with his rifle pointed at the door, she did the same.

  “Are we going to have to shoot our way out?” she asked with worry.

  “I hope not. The men are in the front of the building. We’re in the back. I’m trying to remember where the subway stops are. I know they’re close to the park because I rode them with my sister and niece, but I can’t remember where.”

  “Yep, it’s not far,” she assured him. “The 57th Street Station is one block over. Right through this door, then run like hell down 6th Avenue.”

  “Use whatever cover you can find,” he suggested.

  Emily nodded.

  He looked over her rifle to ensure the safety was off and a round was already in the chamber. If they needed to shoot their way out, it was going to take both of them. However, he wanted to avoid the need by moving fast. “You catch your breath?”

  “No,” she said with a smirk, “but you are going anyway, aren’t you?”

  “Sorry. We’ve got a schedule to keep.” He laughed it up to help bolster their spirits.

  Ted pushed the door open as quietly as he was able, but the hinges squeaked in a way that made him think the whole city knew they were there. Immediately, the sounds of the Seahawk helicopter and Predator drones filled the air, but no men were around.

  “Go!” he mouthed to her.

  They ran a short distance on a cross street but stopped at the corner of 6th Avenue, which was a north-south street filled with stopped taxis, box trucks, and regular cars. He checked to see if any men had come around the bend up by the park, but it all seemed clear.

  “Keep the cars between us and them,” he advised. They both hopped off the curb and got into the street, but the crack of gunfire made him stop immediately. He fell behind a taxi. Emily came to a halt next to a nearby trash truck.

  Windshield glass exploded on a small sedan between the two of them.

  “They saw us,” he said dryly. He was certain someone had the entire street rigged with surveillance. They’d been lucky to get out while they could. The black-clad men were at the front corner of the building, two blocks down, but they were moving closer.

  “Go for broke! I’ll cover you.” Ted slapped the rifle on the back corner of the taxicab, then lined up a shot through the 24x scope. It was dialed-in for a hundred yards, and they were at about one-fifty, so he aimed for their heads, assuming he’d hit their chests. He picked a running man on the sidewalk, in full view of the whole street.

  The gun cracked, causing him to shift, but when he re-oriented on the scope, the man was down. The others ducked, too, and the smart ones ran into the street to take cover among the cars.

  The men weren’t dressed like any US military outfit he’d ever seen, so he didn’t worry he’d shot at someone on the blue team. These guys fired first at two people dressed like civilians. They were bad guys.

  Free-fire time.

  He picked a second man who had run around the corner, then pulled the trigger.

  “Hell yeah,” he shouted. The round hit the guy’s shoulder, which sent him tumbling into the gutter.

  More men emerged from around the corner, and he squeezed off a few extra shots to give them something to think about, but there wasn’t enough time to properly aim. The guys in the street were threading through the cars, and he couldn’t hold them all off.

  Behind him, Emily’s khaki shirt weaved left and right as she ran for it. A bullet ricocheted off a lamp post about ten feet away, keeping him focused on himself.

  Ted stayed low, hoping they wouldn’t see him reposition. He ran behind the trash truck and used it as a blocker to hide his retreat, then he sprinted to catch up to the woman he was sworn to protect.

  “It’s right here,” she confirmed as soon as he got close.

  “I’m behind you!” he said as he stopped to line up another attacker. However, he came up empty. There weren’t any targets to shoot along the sidewalk because the enemy soldiers were all in the traffic. If he couldn’t see them, maybe they couldn’t see him back. He and Emily hustled into the stairwell for the subway station, then went into the depths.

  He let her go down first but stayed on her heels. He didn’t think anyone saw them go in, but he had to assume they would follow them eventually.

  Emily ran to the edge of the platform, and Ted noticed her whole body shaking.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he said to instill confidence.

  “They’re trying to kill us,” she replied with dismay.

  “We’re going to kill them first. If you see anyone—anyone—you shoot right away, you understand?”

  She drew in a breath. He heard the fear in her lungs. “I’m trying, Ted. I didn’t expect to be a nervous wreck when the shooting started.”

  He laughed, guiding her off the platform. “You should have seen me back in Iraq. I was at ten-thousand feet when I avoided my first surface-to-air missile. Nearly peed my pants.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  They stood next to a tiled wall that had the same bathroom feel as the Lincoln tunnel. Ted pointed down the tunnel in both directions. “Which way will take us to Central Park? That way, right?”

  “Yes, but don’t we want to go the other way?”

  “No. I made a mistake, Emily. They’ve been waiting for high value targets. Probably have a presence in lots of buildings around here. They’ll all be coming down to help their friends. Our only chance is to do th
e unexpected.”

  She started off in the direction of the park. “Like going north when every logical reason says we would go south.”

  He ran to catch up. “Bingo bango bongo, ma’am.” For a second, he expected her to complain about using that word, but she was occupied.

  “Power’s still on. Don’t touch two of the three rails,” she said ominously. “Or zap, you’re dead.”

  “Great advice,” he replied.

  Ted glanced back to the stairwell at the end of the platform but didn’t see the shadows of approaching men. If they ran like hell, they might get far enough into the tunnel that no one would see them. Although it was very dark, there was enough light to see movement far down the tube. He wouldn’t assume they were safe until they reached the next station.

  They’d gone about a hundred feet before he tripped over a bundle of wires hidden in the shadows.

  “Ow,” he spit out, thankful he didn’t fall on the rails.

  They were going to die if he kept making mistakes.

  St. Louis, MO

  Tabby and the kids made it to the car in the alleyway, but the sound of gunfire continued back at the TV station, in short bursts now. Either Gus and Vinny were still alive and fighting, or the robot horse kept blasting the place to bring it crumbling down.

  “Get us out of here!” Audrey screamed.

  “I want to go home,” Donovan complained in his down-home accent. “Momma’s gonna be mad.”

  “We’re going,” she replied. Her reliable car started right up, but she shut out all the commotion to quell her flaring panic. She lifted her hands from the wheel; they shook like it was ten degrees outside.

  “Drive!” Peter demanded.

  She intended to think of where to go next, but there wasn’t much hope of figuring that out. There were probably those mechanical drones everywhere now because of the shooting at the station. Additionally, she didn’t really know the city well enough to plan a route.

  Tabby put it in reverse and sped down the alley until she reached the intersecting road. She’d followed Gus’s MSD truck into the narrow alley from close to the Arch, so now she was going to return on part of that route.

  Once the car was in gear and moving forward, the complaining got even worse.

  “We can’t go back!” Audrey screamed. She pointed at the Arch, which stood tall out the front windshield.

  “I’m not,” she replied. Tabby shoved the wheel to the right and the car sped around a corner and onto a two-lane street. A few wrecked cars blocked part of the route, but she made it around those without scraping them.

  At the next intersection, she turned left.

  “I’m going south. We saw a bridge over the river. We have to get to Illinois.”

  Donovan hugged his shotgun in the front seat, but he drifted back and forth because he didn’t buckle in.

  “Geeze,” she said, reaching around him. “Peter, get his seatbelt.”

  She had to one-hand the wheel around another truck parked on the center stripe of the road, but then she glanced back to the otherwise reliable one of their group. Now he sulked as he watched out his window.

  “Dammit! Peter!” she yelled.

  He turned to her. “What?”

  “His belt. I need his belt.” She pointed to Donovan’s seatbelt next to the boy’s head.

  Peter huffed in protest, but he reached forward and grabbed it, then stretched it so she could get a grip on it. With one hard pull, she got it extended enough she could safely strap in the boy. He was falling apart even as she watched.

  “Thank you,” she said with relief.

  Peter went back to brooding.

  “And don’t worry about losing your gun. No one could have seen that coming.”

  Peter almost looked her way, but then redoubled his efforts to glare outside.

  “I saw one!” Audrey’s voice was hoarse.

  “What was it?” she asked as they approached another intersection. “And where was it?”

  Audrey tapped her window. “It was that way. A floaty one.”

  Tabby wasn’t stopping for anything. All doubts about the motivation of those workers under the Arch went away when bullets chugged out of the machine gun. They had to get out of the city before they were caught.

  “And another!” Audrey said in a panicked voice.

  “Sheesh,” Tabby growled. “Hold on again.” She turned the car down a side street opposite of where Audrey saw the drones. Then, she saw a familiar blue sign.

  “The interstate!” She drove as fast as she dared for a couple of blocks, then braked hard to make a left turn for the on-ramp to the highway. Once she had it pointed in the right direction, she punched the gas and went up the ramp.

  The highway going east was on a raised deck, but the lanes going in the opposite direction were on a second level above them. Without trying, she’d found a way to hide from anyone who might be above them. However, after half a mile, the highway bent to the right, and came out from under its peer. The highway went into a complicated series of on and off ramps, but she kept going toward a wide bridge over the Mississippi River.

  “They’re going to see us,” Peter lectured her.

  As he’d noted, being on the bridge would put them in full view of everyone at the Arch, which was coming up on their left. As soon as they passed a huge round tower named Riverside Hotel, the silver monument came into full view, though she couldn’t see the grassy turf at the base.

  “I’m going to stay on this side.” She drove into the right shoulder of the ten-lane bridge, which made it hard to see the bottom half of the Arch.

  Peter became more animated. “You did it, Tabby. I don’t see them. They can’t see us.”

  “Keep your eyes peeled for those floating drones. They could send one up here to check if we went this way.” She had no idea what she was going to do if a drone chased her. They seemed to act like hunting dogs, who called in the real killer once they’d found prey.

  Tabby maintained a painful grip on the steering wheel until they got all the way across the river. The lanes going back to the city were fairly cramped with abandoned cars, but only a few were going her way, so she didn’t have any problem maintaining this speed.

  As the highway went through some old factories and dilapidated buildings, she unleashed the scream she’d been suppressing.

  “We made it!”

  CHAPTER 24

  New York City, NY

  Ted’s eyes adjusted to the dim tunnel after a few minutes, but it got a little brighter when they arrived at an underground junction. The subway track they’d followed since the 57th Street station kept going straight, but another line passed over a metal truss about fifteen feet above.

  “Do you know which one of these lines goes to Central Park?”

  “The one we’re on gets close, but, if I’m guessing correctly, this other one is pointed to the station at the edge of the park. I think that’s where we should go.”

  He took her word for it. She lived within walking distance of the subway, so her guess had to be better than his.

  Men shouted far behind, though they’d gone deep enough into the dark tunnel that they no longer saw the station. They at least had that going for them. He pointed her up a nearby ladder. “After you, Madam President.”

  She hopped up but hissed at him. “I order you to stop calling me that.”

  He grabbed the rung the second her foot left it. He didn’t look up as he climbed. “I won’t call you that, Madam President.”

  Ted snickered like a schoolboy. The stress made him lower his inhibitions just enough to make him goofy.

  She reached the next level and climbed inside the cross tunnel.

  “I see the station, Ted. We’re almost there.”

  When he got most of the way up, he glanced at her standing above. She held out a hand to help him, which he accepted. “We stick together, funny guy,” she said in a businesslike manner, as if she knew, despite his sense of humor, he might tell h
er to run ahead while he held off the pursuit.

  “Yeah, sure. Let’s get over there.”

  They ran through the dark tunnel for a hundred yards until emerging inside another subway station. It had the same large white tiles, but the long platform was bracketed with a dozen large movie posters, like they’d come out in a movie theater ticket booth.

  “Yep, this is where I thought we were.” She pointed to the subway platform number. “If we go up top, we’ll be right at the edge of the trees. We should be able to sneak into the park without being seen. That’s what you wanted, right?”

  “The last place they’ll look,” he agreed.

  They hopped over piles of clothes and went up a few flights of stairs. As promised, they came out in front of a wall of trees. Wrecked cars and lots of lost clothing filled the street along the edge of the parkland.

  He also recognized the statue of the man on a horse he’d seen from up in her apartment. The metallic monument was out in the open, so he pointed toward the trees. “Over there. Hustle!”

  Emily did her best to keep up. He’d been running her pretty hard since they dodged the Hellfire missile up on the roof. If they could get to a nice clump of bushes, he would risk a short break, but they’d barely made it beneath some trees when he saw a flash of movement.

  “Down!” he dove behind a black metal fence lined with bushes. She collapsed next to him.

  “There are already people here! They might be who the Seahawk was trying to find.” The Navy helicopter was at least a mile away, on the north side of the park, which he found amazing given how crowded the skies had become with drones. The whirring of Predators came from at least two directions now. He and Emily were in danger of being spotted and killed if they stuck around. He had to keep the faith, once again, they weren’t able to reliably see under the leafy canopy.

  He craned his neck over the fence to look across one of the nearby fields. Picnic baskets and quilts dotted the quaint landscape where New Yorkers came to relax, though no locals were there. That stillness made it easier to see the two figures moving on the far side.