Frostpoint

by Kenny Soward

  “You made some important friends,” Sara said with a wink before she gave Jake’s shirt a gentle tug and led him down the steps to greet the captain.

  “I guess so,” Jake replied, impressed by the captain’s entrance. He followed Sara off the porch and gave Captain Stern a friendly wave.

  The captain waved back as her guard troops crossed the bridge and fell in behind her.

  “Good to see you again, Jake.” Captain Stern put out her hand, and Jake took it for a brief shake.

  “Good to see you as well, Captain.” Jake gestured to Sara. “This is my wife, Sara. Sara, Captain Stern.”

  The captain turned to Sara and offered her hand. “It’s good to meet you, Sara. Your husband wasn’t happy about me delaying his return home. I think you can understand the urgency of the situation and why I needed his help.”

  Sara took the captain’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Absolutely. We’ll do anything we can to help.”

  “You’re just in time, Captain,” Jake said. “We just intercepted the first communication between the crawlers and their commanders.

  “Is that so?” Stern said with narrowed eyes. “Great work, Jake. I knew you and Spitz could pull it off.”

  “Come on inside and we’ll show you.”

  As they approached the cabin, Captain Stern went on. “Collier, Ostrosky, and Jenkins are retrieving equipment from the crashed helicopter. Collier briefed me on what happened down the road with the firefight. I’m sorry for all the folks you lost.”

  Sara nodded solemnly next to Jake. “It would have been much worse if you hadn’t sent Jake and your soldiers to us.”

  “I spoke briefly with your nurse. She said they lost one of our pilots.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Sara said.

  “Me, too,” Jake added. While he hadn’t known the man personally, Jake felt a twinge of regret. His resolve hardened as he went up the porch steps to get the door for the two women. “Let’s just hope we can end this soon, before there’s any more bloodshed.”

  “We’re going to turn this thing around.” Captain Stern nodded as she entered the cabin. “We’re starting to beat the crawlers at every turn. They must be demoralized by now. Let’s just hope it’s enough to make them quit the fight.”

  Chapter 19

  Rita, Gatlinburg, Tennessee

  Rita took a right onto State Route 66 for Sevierville, Tennessee, gateway to towns of Gatlinburg, Pigeon Forge, and Dollywood. Rita had brought the kids to visit Tex two years ago right after her husband passed away. Looking around at the majestic Smoky Mountains and the country-woodsy feel of the place, Rita realized how much she’d missed it.

  The people had been friendly, the scenery fantastic, and there was plenty to do for the kids. The vacation had gone a long way in helping them move on from their loss. She thought the first place they might visit was Tex’s boot shop. The man seemed to always be at the store, even when it wasn’t open. She remembered Tex talking about how much he loved being in business for himself and how he’d given up driving trucks forever.

  “Are we almost there?” Olivia asked from the back seat. “I’m hot.”

  “Almost there,” Bobby Junior assured his little sister. Over the past few days, Rita had seen a change in her son that she liked. He’d begun to take on more responsibility for his sisters, and he knew how to prepare the MREs so Rita didn’t have to stop the vehicle to keep them fed.

  Rita suspected watching his mother blow a man’s brains out must have had an effect on him, as well as her. He seemed to understand what kind of toll this was taking on her both emotionally and physically, and he was doing everything he could to help. All on his own, no prompting.

  The exit ramp was full of broken down or wrecked cars, and Rita had to slow her speed to a steady twenty-five miles per hour to get around them. And, judging from the vehicles abandoned in the road, it looked like there had been a panic of vacationers trying to get out of town before they’d opted to take their chances on foot. It looked like many hadn’t made it far before being shot or beaten, and Rita could easily imagine the nightmarish scene: violent storms. terrorists roaming the countryside, no communications, basic necessities becoming scarce as the economy spun down the drain.

  It didn’t bode well for Rita and her kids, though they didn’t have a choice at this point. They had no other relatives or friends within five hundred miles of Tennessee, so it was Uncle Tex or bust.

  Rita took the main road into town, passing antique stores, country restaurants, and souvenir shops. There were travel and tour agencies, lodging centers, and real estate businesses. Most of them had broken front windows, and there was evidence of looting everywhere. Signs for Dollywood stood beside the road every mile or two, each with a different image of Dolly Parton welcoming visitors to her little part of the world. The buxom blonde’s smile gleamed down on the apocalyptic scene, her golden hair hanging down in wavy curls on her shoulders.

  It was surreal, in a hellish sort of way.

  Rita didn’t know many Dolly Parton songs, but she liked “Jolene”. It reminded her of high school when every boyfriend she ever had got stolen by some more popular girl. The old Rita had been weak. She’d never fought for anything in her entire life. But the new Rita would never have taken that crap, and she wished she could go back in time and give those girls and boys a piece of her mind. It felt good to be strong. It felt good to not take crap.

  “Better late than never,” Rita mumbled to herself with a sideways smirk.

  “What’s that, Mom?” Bobby Junior was looking at her.

  “Nothing, hon. Just your mother talking to herself.”

  “Okay.” Bobby Junior went back to staring out the window.

  The closer she came to Sevierville, the more moving cars she saw. They cut through parking lots or turned onto back roads, although none of them seemed particularly hostile or interested in Rita’s business. There was even a wrecking crew on the opposite side of the road with some big construction equipment moving cars out of the way.

  The crew was guarded by several men and women dressed in civilian clothes carrying an array of weapons. They didn’t look particularly aggressive, though Rita made sure to steer into the far-right lane to avoid contact with them. A woman in the group looked her way, but Rita kept right on driving.

  Once she reached Sevierville, she turned right on Parkway and drove straight through the center of town. It seemed people were out in good number, cleaning up lots and trying to make sense of the destruction. A small family had camped out in a Budget Inn parking lot, the father sitting in a lawn chair out front with a shotgun resting across his knees.

  A group of military vehicles and a FEMA truck had taken over the T.J. Maxx parking lot, and it appeared they were setting up tents with supplies.

  “Looks like the cavalry has arrived,” Rita said, feeling optimistic about their prospects. Still, she would feel even better if they could find Tex. Not only for the sake of her kids, but just to make sure Tex was okay himself.

  Rita turned into the strip mall where Tex’s boot store was located and pulled into a parking spot up front. Junkie Joe’s Boot Shop had clearly been looted. The front window was smashed and footwear littered the sidewalk and lot.

  “Stay here,” Rita said as she turned off the Honda and got out. “Beep the horn if anyone gives you any trouble.”

  “Okay, Mom,” Bobby Junior replied.

  She shut the door and made sure to lock it behind her. Then she stepped through the front door, her boots crunching on glass and debris. Frowning at all the expensive leather products laying exposed to the elements, Rita moved through the store.

  “That pair must have been at least two hundred dollars,” she whispered in awe as she passed an expensive-looking pair of women’s boots laying on the floor. Rita hoped a lot of Uncle Tex’s goods could be salvaged. After checking through the store, Rita went behind the checkout counter and stepped through a door into the back.

  It was dark,
so Rita removed a flashlight from her pocket and shined it all around. There was enough space for an office, a restroom, and a small receiving area for new merchandise.

  Out in the receiving area, several large boxes had been opened, and a half-dozen empty boxes were scattered across the floor, their tissue paper strung out everywhere. It made sense that at least a few looters would want new boots.

  Rita looked down at her own tennis shoes. They were light footwear, the once-white material stained and frayed in spots. The back sole of her right shoe had become separated from the rest, and it had started making flapping noises as she walked. Rita glanced back over her shoulder before she crossed to the larger boxes and peered inside. They were Red Wing work boots in a mix of men’s and women’s sizes. She dug through until she found her size and held up the box.

  “I don’t think Uncle Tex would mind.” Rita sat down on the floor, placing the flashlight on its end so the light shined straight up. Then Rita swapped out her ratty “mom” shoes for the pair of rugged boots.

  Rita grabbed her flashlight, stood up, and stomped her feet on the ground. The boots felt good and heavy. Like she could walk through fire and not feel a thing. Rita spent some extra time looking for boots for the kids, and she stacked three boxes in their sizes over near the door.

  “Perfect,” she said.

  Rita did a quick turn around the place, guiding her flashlight back to the office door. She went inside, and everything seemed neat and orderly except for a scatter of papers someone had brushed off his desk onto the floor. But there was nothing of value. No safe or locked drawers. No computer. Just a lot of receiving documents, shoe samples, Brannock Devices for measuring customers’ feet, and a couple of large cardboard cutouts featuring cowboys holding up new boots to sell.

  The darkness of the place was beginning to creep Rita out, so she left the office, picked up the kids’ boots, and sighed with relief when she emerged into daylight. Out front, her kids were waiting for her right where Rita had left them, and she was happy to see Bobby Junior looking around in all directions for signs of unsavory people.

  The new world demanded people grow up fast, even kids.

  Rita placed the shoes in the back of the Honda, climbed into the car driver’s seat, started up the vehicle, and pulled out of the lot.

  “Uncle Tex wasn’t there?” Bobby Junior asked.

  “He was not,” Rita confirmed with a glance at her son, “so we’re going to try his house. I’m sure he’ll be there. And if he isn’t, we’ll shack up there until he comes home.”

  “Okay, Mom.” Bobby Junior settled back into his seat.

  Rita liked how the confident strength in her tone comforted her son, and how he no longer questioned her decisions or talked back to her. She could get used to this kind of respect. Perhaps she was cut out for the new, more dangerous world after all.

  Chapter 20

  Yi, Somewhere near Gatlinburg

  Later, as the sun dipped below the tree line and bathed the sky in a deep ruddy light, Chen straightened in his chair as he peered with narrowed eyes at the screen. The house had been shrouded in silence for hours, so the soldier’s change in demeanor drew Yi’s attention.

  “What is it, Chen?” Yi turned in his chair as a hopeful feeling rose in his chest.

  “It is a message from central command.”

  Yi stood and went to Chen, looking over his shoulder at the message. It wasn’t very long, and its meaning was clear. Yi was now in charge of the mission, as he had hoped. However, it was also clear that this one would be their last. Yi read the message again, proud that his team had been chosen to issue the final strike, a message that would send a reverberation of terror through the hearts of the western world long after Yi and his soldiers were dead.

  “You are the commander now,” Chen said. He stood up, pushing the creaky chair away from the table, and presented Yi with a salute.

  “Thank you, Chen,” Yi said, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Praise to the Dragon that we have one more mission together.”

  Chen saluted his leader again, eyes lit with intense fervor.

  Yi took some time to appreciate the moment, only sorry that Ivan and Jiao were not here to see Yi’s promotion as leader and their comrades’ ascension to glory. Sometime after the final event, the New Block would begin to slowly leak the names of the patriots who had carried out the final strike. They would go down in infamy as the soldiers who hobbled the mighty United States. They would be the knife to the back of the knee, the precise cut to the carotid artery, the stab beneath the ribs and straight to the heart of the enemy.

  Katrya’s name would never be mentioned again, the message assured him. Yi grinned. His purpose in this world was validated. His faith was renewed.

  Turning away from his friend, Yi marched down the long hallway to the back of the ranch-style homestead. He pulled his pistol from its holster as he turned left into Nadia’s room. Her half-lidded eyes followed Yi as he came in and sat at her bedside, resting his weapon on the stained mattress.

  Her wounded arm lay at her side, the gauze packed around the stump stained with blood. Boris had done all he could to patch the wound closed, but the damage had already been done. The loss of blood would kill her. Yi only hoped he could ease the woman’s passing.

  “You have served well as a dragon warrior, Nadia,” Yi said with a respectful nod. She was not one of his original soldiers, and perhaps she didn’t quite understand Yi’s almost fervent dedication to the Dragon spirit, but she blinked her eyes slowly that she understood.

  Yi’s tone grew with excitement. “I do not know why you joined the movement, but that does not matter now. The important thing is that you were a part of it, and you should be proud of what you have done here.”

  Nadia blinked slowly again, and Yi saw through her drug-addled stare that she was aware of her contribution and what it meant to the downtrodden of the world.

  “We received our final orders,” Yi continued excitedly, “and I assure you our final strike will be glorious. Soon after, I will follow you into the afterlife.”

  Nadia’s eyes slid right to where a glass of water sat on the nightstand. Nodding with understanding, Yi set his gun on the bed and picked up the glass. He put it to her dry, cracked lips and fed her a small amount. Nadia swallowed the water down with some difficulty before releasing a long sigh.

  Yi placed the glass on the nightstand and picked up his gun. “Will you receive the Dragon’s mercy?”

  A mixture of emotions welled up in the soldier’s eyes, one of which Yi read as thankfulness. Nadia must be in terrible agony despite the painkillers Boris had pumped into her. Finally, and with great effort, she nodded.

  Nadia closed her eyes.

  Yi put the barrel of his pistol to her head and pulled the trigger. Then he left the deceased soldier and stepped into the hallway, only to be met by Boris.

  “What are you doing?” the doctor asked in an incredulous tone.

  Yi wordlessly turned left into the room of the African fighter, Edet, and moved to the foot of the bed. He stared down at the surprised soldier and leveled a flat gaze at him.

  “What are you doing?” Edet asked, fear in his eyes as he raised himself on the bed.

  “I have been named captain as a result of Katrya’s death,” Yi said. “And we have received our final orders. The end will be more glorious than you could ever have imagined.”

  “When?” Edet asked the question with growing fervor.

  “We leave right away,” Yi said. “But, unfortunately, we can only take those who will be of service to us. Those who can contribute. The rest must be terminated.”

  Nodding slowly in understanding, Edet gripped the cover that was thrown over him. He started to toss it aside so he could get out of bed, then he hesitated. His expression changed from eagerness to uncertainty, eyes moving from his injured knee to the gun Yi held in his hand. With a grunt of defiance, he tossed the cover on the floor, revealing that his combat uniform was r
ipped at the knee and bound with a bandage and splint.

  “Can you walk?” Yi asked simply.

  Edet carefully slid his legs off the bed and stood. He balanced quite easily before taking two steps forward. He winced with each step, though he was far from debilitated. “Yes. I can walk,” Edet said, turning to face Yi’s final judgment. “I will not win a race, but I can move and shoot.”

  Yi raised his pistol, considering the man’s value to the team. Edet had proven himself to be a good soldier, an accurate shooter with unyielding loyalty. He would be less mobile than the others, yet Yi knew the man would make himself useful.

  “Welcome to the final mission.” Yi nodded, lowering his gun. “Go gather the soldiers. We move out in an hour.”

  “Thank you, Captain Yi.” Edet stiffly walked past Yi and Boris and moved down the hallway.

  “You have the final orders?” Boris asked as he followed Yi into Sam’s room where she remained unconscious on the bed. “Where are we going? Is it another city? Is it far?”

  Yi glanced at the doctor. His beady blue eyes were filled with uncertainty, and he kneaded his fingers together nervously. While Yi normally took no pleasure in torture, it was satisfying to see the doctor squirm.

  “That is classified.” Yi moved to the foot of the bed and held his pistol loosely in his hand, half-pointed at Sam as if trying to decide the woman’s fate. Like Edet, she’d been a great fighter. An English woman, she had been the only true Westerner in the group. He had no idea why Sam had joined their cause, though Yi suspected she must have come to learn the true evil of western culture and sought redemption through serving the New Block; Yi knew how guilt could eat at a person’s soul.