She didn’t disappoint.
“Let’s go see that lighthouse.”
San Francisco, CA
Dwight woke up with the feeling of a shoe in his side. Living on the streets for so many years, he’d become accustomed to the unpleasant wake-up call.
“I’m not in a doorway. Leave me be.” It was his standard response.
“Hey, guy, you are supposed to be on the road. What are you doing?” The man sounded anxious, like Dwight was breaking an important rule. When he opened his eyes, he remembered it wasn’t a standard day.
“Oh. I’m sorry, Jacob, I, uh—”
“It’s fine. I need you up. I’m running late, too. We’ve got to get to the rendezvous, or they’ll put us on an even worse duty, you know?” The man was dressed in the same black jumpsuit Dwight had been forced to wear; they could have been on the same pit crew for a racing team. He was average height and build, probably in his forties, with a natural, smiling face and a thin mustache. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut short, like most men in the black suits.
Dwight picked himself off the small patch of grass he’d found among the downtown buildings. “How did you find me?”
“All the bikes have trackers. One of the team leaders told me to come here and find out why this bike wasn’t moving. I’m not about to go back and explain you were sleeping, so if anyone asks, you had a flat tire and we worked together to get you mobile.”
Poppy swooped down from above, making him involuntarily swat her away. He dearly wanted to ask what the hell she was doing, but he knew better than to talk to the bird when people were around.
“I’m not Jacob, by the way. It’s Bernard. What’s your name?”
“Dwight,” he replied. He’d been lured into the warehouse by a man named Jacob. If this was a new person, there was a chance he hadn’t been discovered as an imposter.
“Well, Dwight. Hop on your bike and let’s go. We have a lot of ground to cover today. Then we’ll have a ton of work on our hands.” He patted the flamethrower machinery attached to the backside of his motorbike.
It took him a couple of minutes, but Dwight managed to get himself upright and on his bike. His only thought was how bad he wanted a drink, but it didn’t seem likely he could find a liquor store with his new friend lording over him. That bummed him out.
“Stick on my back tire, Dwight. Remember, they’re always watching us. We have to go where we’re told, or they send out the work police.” He chuckled in a fashion that sounded anything but funny.
They both cranked over their motors.
Dwight looked up at Poppy, still aloft. “Hey!” he called out to get her attention. “You didn’t warn me he was coming!”
The multi-colored bird seemed to cackle in laughter.
“What?” Bernard asked while cupping his ear.
Dwight shook his head, waving him off. The guy wouldn’t understand his relationship with the bird, nor did he want to explain it. Normal people had a blind spot to the creature, and he didn’t want to answer the questions that invariably came when he revealed his friend.
For now, he would ride his motorcycle and wait for the opportunity to flee.
He hoped Poppy, for all her practical jokes, would help him when the time came.
CHAPTER 3
Off the coast of Long Island, NY
“When were you going to tell me you could fly a plane as well as pilot this big yacht?” Ted stood next to his companion, admiring her transformation to boat captain. She’d unhooked her hair clip, which let long brown hair whip around behind her as they sped across Long Island Sound.
She giggled girlishly and brushed her wild hair aside, as if boating was a way of life. “It didn’t come up organically in our conversation. This is more of a forty-foot boat, anyway, not a yacht. Besides, this is nothing, I also read a manual on how to operate a diesel train engine.”
“No shit?” he said with surprise.
The vice president turned, mischief gleaming in her eyes. “I’m kidding! But wouldn’t you just die if I could drive a train?”
“No. I’d believe it. You’re the real deal. Hell, if we were voting for president again, I’d vote against my party so you’d remain the VP.” He meant it. Her past political affiliation was the only blemish on what he viewed as a pretty solid woman, not that any of it mattered now.
“This was my uncle’s fishing boat. As I said, forty-footer, with an open floorplan so you can hold rods over the side. For all their Washington, D.C. insider bull crap, my extended family never strayed far from the water.”
“Except for your parents,” he replied. She’d told him about her mom and dad operating a flying school somewhere in Montana.
“They fly in retirement. Back in the day, they were here on the East Coast, too. They opened more than a few doors for me.”
He didn’t want to imagine the political maneuverings necessary to get a son or daughter into the right schools, the right internships, and so forth, on the way to elected office. Navigating politics was frustrating enough in the Air Force. It included long stints of boring duty stations on the way to the next level up. His first four years involved lots of foosball playing and goofing around, but little upward movement. Once he left the poor leadership he’d found in Tallahassee, he’d begun to weave his way through the officer ranks.
Emily piloted the boat over a large wave, causing it to crash back down with a satisfying smack. “Wahoo!” she howled with infectious glee.
Ted spent the next couple of minutes outside of his war mentality. For that brief time, he enjoyed the spray of the water shooting up on both sides as the yacht cut through the water. He glanced back at the churn created by the roaring engines. But most of all, he liked being next to the commanding woman behind the wheel.
He wondered if the boat under his feet would be enough to get them up the East Coast, over to Greenland, then to Iceland and Great Britain. It was a route he’d flown many times, and the distance between landmasses didn’t seem too far. If they could collect Kyla, that was their way back to friendlies.
“Ted, I’m getting something on the radar.” She tapped one of her long fingernails on a video monitor inset into the dashboard. The readout was similar to his in-flight collision-avoidance system, but not as sophisticated or detailed. Instead of having blips for each plane in the air, there was only enough information to see the land and islands in their line of sight.
“What’s the range on this thing?”
“Not sure. About fifty miles, I think.”
The point on the screen moved slowly from north to south, as if it was a boat shadowing theirs. However, the color was all wrong.
“The radar tracks birds,” she said matter-of-factly, “because birds lead to schools of fish. However, flocks of birds don’t move that fast.”
That explained the color. It was moving and in the air.
“We’ve got to get to shore right now.” They were already headed back to Long Island, but they were supposed to go to the easternmost end to meet Kyla at the lighthouse. Instead, he directed her to go toward the beach at the nearest point. “We’ll keep the boat near the shoreline and throw out an anchor. It will hide us from the snooping aircraft until we’re ready to escape for good.”
She changed course. They weren’t more than a mile from the pristine sand of the beach. The tall lighthouse peeked above the trees to their left a couple of miles away.
“Do you think it sees us?” Ted asked with uncertainty, not sure what to make of the unfamiliar radar system.
As she drove them in, the dot on the screen stayed true to its flight path. Emily backed off the engines as they got within a hundred yards from shore. She’d found a tiny inlet, barely big enough for the boat to fit. Beyond it, there was a surprisingly large lake; it was perhaps two hundred yards from one shore to the other and surrounded by forest on all sides except the beach access point.
“Nice and easy,” she said, obviously talking to the boat.
After the y
acht cruised through the inlet, Emily let out a breath she’d been holding. “My uncle would kill me if he saw me doing this. He once paid eight thousand bucks to repair a propeller after striking a rock in the shallows. This cruiser is meant for deep water, not little lakes like this.”
“Well, I’m not complaining.” He motioned toward a nearby stand of trees at the lakeshore. As they got away from the beach along the ocean, it became rocky and less uniform on the banks of the lake. Some of the trees hung over the water, giving them the cover they’d been seeking.
“It’s still coming,” she warned.
The dot traveled across the screen, and Ted thought of his Air Force training. Even a weak radar system like this one was broadcasting a signal into the air. That signal could be intercepted and triangulated. “Shit, turn it off. Power everything off!”
Without waiting for an explanation, Emily flicked off the monitor, then hit more switches to shut down the bilge pumps and other accessories.
“Can I drop anchor?” she wondered.
“Do we need it?” he asked quietly.
“If we don’t secure ourselves, we might float into the middle of the lake, or against those rocks.”
He guessed the blip was still a mile or two out, based on where it was when she turned off the radar. It was a risk to operate machinery, but a necessary one.
“Do it,” he said, not so sure of himself.
She powered some of the equipment, flicked another toggle, and they listened as the anchor slid out from a port near the front. It didn’t take long for it to hit bottom, given they were in a shallow lake.
Emily powered off without being told.
When it became silent, they heard the whine of an airplane prop.
He didn’t need a radar to tell him it was getting closer.
Emily’s expression was as panicked as his insides.
“Should we jump?” she asked.
Ted imagined Hellfire missiles with their names on them. There was no point staying in the boat if they were found, and the continued approach of the drone made it seem almost a certainty. He silently grabbed his rifle and the backpack, prompting her to grab an AR, too.
“After you,” he said with all the calm he had left.
They both leapt over the sides.
On the way down, he noticed the name of the boat written on the back: Happy Hooker.
Everything really is a joke with her.
Chicago, IL
Tabby’s heart stopped cold for at least ten seconds, or it seemed like it as she stood on the steps looking down at her fallen friend. Audrey and Peter had come down the last flight just as Donovan was shot. They stood behind, leaning on her, as if they were also shocked beyond their capacity to think.
“We…have to go back up,” she finally choked out.
The kids didn’t move.
“Go!” Tabby spun around and pushed, but she almost couldn’t get up the next step. Her leg muscles were burned to ash from the endless descent, so going the other direction was torture.
Audrey cried out in pain, obviously suffering the same effects. Peter reacted by pulling on the bannister with one arm, while keeping a hold on his girlfriend with the other. Together, they went up the stairs at the speed of a death march.
The robot didn’t get a direct look at Tabby, but its computer brain would almost certainly figure out where she was. She fumbled with her shotgun as she followed the kids, sure it was going to be put to hard use in mere moments. “When you get to the next level, go through the door. We’ve got to find another stairwell.”
The death of Donovan scared her to the bones, but it also gave her clarity for what had to be done to keep the others from meeting the same fate. They might climb back up to the top of the tower and delay their doom, but it was an ending already written. To stay alive, they needed to get out of the building in any way possible before more of those robots showed up.
Tabby fell through the fire door a few seconds after the kids. The three of them hunched over while they walked, desperate to catch their breath and rest their spent muscles. However, none of them stopped completely.
Audrey was openly weeping. Peter was probably crying too, but she couldn’t catch up to him. He practically dragged the girl, always ahead of Tabby.
They jogged down a long hallway with a lone window at the far end. Each side was lined with glass doors to office space in the high-rise building. Those offices often had light coming through, too. They had the bare minimum to see where they needed to go.
“There! The exit sign. Go through, then down!” Tabby pointed, though the kids were ahead of her and wouldn’t see it.
Was the robot behind them? Was she about to be shot in the back? If so, she wanted to at least make sure the kids got out.
“Run!” she yelled.
Peter slammed into the doorway and held it open as Audrey stumbled through and started down the stairs. He shot a worried glance at Tabby, then seemed to think about running down the stairwell too, but he stayed and held the door. “Come on!”
Tabby tasted the salt of tears. They were a combination of grief and pain, caused by the loss of Donovan and the intense efforts of the morning. She scurried through the door, grunting like a cave girl. Every footfall caused raging pain.
She gave the appearance of having a plan. “Go down, then out. Fast!”
Peter ran ahead and quickly caught Audrey. They only had to go down two flights to reach the main level, so it only took moments. Peter put his face on the glass window of the fire door to see what was out in the lobby. Tabby came up next to him, using the wall to hold herself up.
“What do you see?” she gasped.
“More of those things. It’s like a patrol. They’re walking all over the lobby. I see three. No, four. Probably more.”
Up wasn’t an option, so she looked at the stairwell heading down. If there were parking levels under the building, it might be another way out.
“We’re not going through the lobby,” she droned. “We’d never make it.” If her legs were fresh, she might have been able to run into the lobby and escape, but she couldn’t chance it in the condition she was in. She stifled her own groans and went down some more steps. “Follow me.”
The next two levels were repeats of the lobby. Each time they came to a door, they checked to see if the way was clear. It was almost total blackness in the garage levels, but the robots were there. They each had illuminated strips along their flanks, giving them away.
They went down another level, but it was the bottom.
“It says mechanical room,” Peter got out despite his panting.
“Go through,” she advised. The door didn’t have a window, so there was no way to see what was in there, but she figured it didn’t matter. They’d either be caught now or caught later. If they could skip the death climb up the 103 floors, so much the better.
Peter and Audrey went through, leaving her to wonder for a second if she should have gone first. Did she put the kids in danger?
She laughed. Yeah, only now did I expose them to risk.
The mechanical room turned out to be more like the entire floor. Numerous pipes, vents, and water tanks filled the space. The emergency lights gave them enough to see where they were going, but it was creepy, like being in the bottom of a ghost cruise liner.
“How do we get out of here?” Audrey complained.
“I don’t know,” Tabby replied, aware again of how it fell on her to get them to safety. “I’m working on it.” Despite the power being shut off, the level wasn’t silent. Pipes creaked and knocked, and sounds came from inside the ductwork as if the robot horses were walking inside them. “Skyscraper movies always have a connection between office buildings and the city sewer system. We just have to find it.”
Peter didn’t seem impressed. “That’s your plan? How many skyscraper movies have you seen?”
“Shut up!” Audrey snapped at him. “She’s doing her best.”
Peter was already holding
Audrey’s hand, but he pulled her closer. “I was kidding. I’m scared of dying like Donny. I’m going to crap my pants if I don’t laugh at how crazy this is.”
Audrey sobbed once but managed to speak. “First of all, eww. That’s gross. Second of all, I’m trying to hold it together, too.”
“We all are,” Tabby added. Her tummy bounced around inside her like it was on springs. “Let’s find a sewer lid. I’m sure there’s one here.” For the next several minutes, they picked through the pipes and tubes from near the door, along the wall, and to the next corner. The sounds continued to suggest activity in the water pipes and the air ducts, but Tabby kept up the search.
“This is it!” A large metal grate had been built into the concrete floor. It wasn’t the sewer lid she’d been expecting, but the smell inside indicated what was down there. She was able to lift it with Peter’s help.
“After you,” he insisted.
This time, she had to lead. Tabby climbed down a narrow ladder, using the dim emergency lights as her guide. Her legs were still on fire, though the new range of motion seemed to make the pain lighten up. She made it down about twenty feet but froze when she put her foot in water. At first, she thought it was disgusting sewage, like a scene out of Peter’s overflowing toilet of imagination, but it seemed to be mostly clear. “It’s rainwater, I think.”
She descended a few more feet until she hit bottom. “It’s only up to my waist.”
The kids took their time coming down, which gave her a few moments to herself. The erratic clanging of the mechanical room was gone. It was almost perfectly silent, save for the occasional lapping of water against her legs.
Tabby still had the little aquatic flashlight strapped to her arm—a relic of her escape from the mine. She tapped it on to give herself a little light, but the small beam was swallowed by the oppressive darkness in both directions.
Must I always end up in dank caverns?
CHAPTER 4
USS John F. Kennedy, south of New York City
Kyla hung around Meechum enough to start feeling like she was at least an honorary Marine. The other woman never sat still; she was always checking weapons, cleaning equipment, or talking with her peers about the serious and the inane. They loved to joke with each other during the downtime, and sometimes even during battle. However, as she and Meechum ran across the deck of the carrier to the waiting helicopter, no one was screwing around.
Minus America Box Set | Books 1-5 Page 46
