The men did as instructed, and Lucas closed the door and turned the wheel until the heavy bolts had locked in place. He held out his hand for the closest man’s AR-15. “You can get another one upstairs. We lost a few men, but their rifles are fine.”
The gunman handed him the weapon, and after ejecting the magazine and slipping it into his vest, Lucas jammed it between the spokes of the wheel lock so the steel barrel blocked it from turning.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s head up to the bridge. Kirk’s mopping up below.”
They followed him up the steps and retrieved the downed men’s weapons, and then climbed the last flight to the bridge, where Gary was sitting with his rifle pointed at his captive.
“He speaks a little English,” Gary said. “That could come in handy.”
Lucas nodded and peered out the windows to take in the scene from Newport. Explosions lit the predawn sky as Henry’s team continued to pummel the Chinese troops. Lucas pulled the radio from his pocket and turned the volume back up.
“Status?” he asked.
“We’re throwing everything we have at them, but they’re not giving up. They have grenade launchers too, and they’re using them.”
“Casualties?”
“A few, but the mortars are fine. That’s what will win this for us. No way they can survive hours of this. How about you?”
“I’m securing the ship. Should be done in a few minutes, and then I’ll head over there.”
“Keep your eyes open. Couple of the men got hit by a patrol we missed.”
“The hostiles still out there?”
“Negative. We took care of it. But there could be more.”
“Roger that. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”
“Good news on the ship.”
“Yes. Now let’s finish this.”
Lucas switched the radio off and moved to Gary’s side. “The others will be up here shortly. We locked the crew in their quarters. We can deal with them later.”
Gary nodded. “What do you want me to do once we’ve secured the boat?”
“Mount a watch at the top of the gangplank and shoot anything that tries to come aboard unless it’s me.”
“I can do that.”
“And see what your friend there knows about operating the boat. Seems a shame to let a warship fall into our laps and not use it.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Depends on how much damage we did with the grenades. Some of the wire runs and hydraulics are pretty badly damaged.”
Lucas turned and made his way back down the stairs, and stopped when he heard footsteps rising from below. He waited with his M4 trained on the stairwell and then relaxed when he saw it was Kirk and his surviving fighters.
“That was it. I mean, there might still be the odd crewman hiding somewhere below – it’s a big vessel – but we can do a more thorough search once the fighting’s done.”
“Gary’s up top. Send the men down to collect all the stray weapons, so if someone slipped past you, they can’t ambush us later.”
Kirk nodded. “Will do.”
“I’m going into town. Sounds like that’s not going easy.”
“I’d fight to the finish if it were me.”
“Seems they have the same idea.”
Lucas emerged from the superstructure and stood on the deck for a moment, eyeing the empty guard post near the road below, the boom of mortars rhythmic background music for his thoughts. He made his way down the gangplank, stepping over the dead, and hit the ground running, speeding to the highway, a dark blur in the gloom.
He slowed when he arrived at the bridge and swept the span with his scope. Seeing nothing but abandoned vehicles, he picked his way through them until a half dozen shots dimpled the truck beside him and he dropped to the asphalt for cover.
The gunfire sounded like it had emanated from the far side of the bridge, and Lucas crawled to another vehicle and raised his M4 to search for the source of the shooting. After scanning the shore, he spotted a pair of men hiding behind a rusting pickup truck at the Newport side of the bridge.
Who weren’t Chinese.
He lowered his rifle and radioed Art. “Got a pair of our cowboys by the bridge taking potshots at me. Can you call them off?”
“Sorry. Got hectic over here. Sounds like word didn’t spread fast enough. I’ll take care of it.”
Lucas waited, and five minutes later a runner reached the men, who waved at Lucas after talking to the newcomer.
Lucas exhaled and resumed his trek, a half smile on his face at the thought that, after all the close calls he’d had with enemies, he could have been gunned down by his own men. He would have laughed out loud at the irony if it hadn’t been so immediate and real, and settled for a shake of his head as he wended between the vehicles, his boots crunching on broken glass underfoot.
He found Art at the hospital, which they’d taken with only a short fight with a few guards, and was inside while Henry and his mortar crew worked from the roof. Art was speaking with Sam when Lucas entered, and they both looked up at the sound of his footsteps.
“What’s the situation?” Lucas asked.
“The hotels are almost completely destroyed, but the Chinese have spread out and are picking at our boys. I held off doing a final push until you secured the ship. Figured you’d want to direct it.”
“Nah. You’re doing a fine job. I’ll sit this one out. What’s the plan?”
“To lead with about a hundred grenades from the Mk 19s, and then close the circle and hit them with everything we’ve got.”
“You’re sure all of them are on that stretch of beach?”
“Yes.”
Lucas thought for a moment. “I have an idea.”
Ten minutes later, Lucas and two men were on one of the sailboats with a Browning .50 caliber and several thousand rounds of ammo. The men, both of whom had sailing experience, raised the main sail. The wind filled it with a flap of fabric, and when it was taut against the breeze, the boat cut across the small waves toward the breakwater.
It took half an hour to reach the open ocean, which was thankfully calm ahead of an inbound storm from the north, and another ten minutes to arrive five hundred yards off the beach. Fireballs continued to punch from the ruins of what had been the hotels only hours earlier as the eastern horizon glowed pink from the first rays of the rising sun.
The boat bobbed in the swell, and Lucas sat cross-legged on the bow with the Browning pointed at the shore. The men lowered the sails, and the craft rose and fell in the gentle rollers.
“Can you keep the bow pointed at the shore?” Lucas asked.
“Without power, not really. Sorry.”
Lucas raised the radio to his mouth. “I’m in position. Whenever you’re ready. Shift the mortar fire forty feet more toward the ocean – they’re on the beach, on the other side of the berm they’re using for cover.”
Lucas waited for the shells to begin dropping on the Chinese, and when they did, he opened fire with the Browning. His aim was less than perfect because of the boat’s movement, but he adjusted to the swaying and in about ten seconds had found his range and was raining .50-caliber slugs onto the sand.
Some of the soldiers figured out what was happening and fired at the boat, but it was beyond the accurate range of their rifles, and none of their rounds struck it. Lucas returned the favor and blew the shooters apart, the Browning having quadruple the range of the assault rifles on a bad day.
Between the mortars and the big machine gun, the battle was over in minutes, with the Chinese force cut to pieces to the last man.
Lucas hailed Art on the radio again. “Okay, you can stop. It’s over. None left.”
“We got them all?” Art asked.
Lucas eyed the bodies littering the beach and sighed heavily. “Yes. Put together some search parties to hunt for any stragglers, and go door-to-door to let the people know they’re safe and the Chinese have been taken care of.”
&
nbsp; Chapter 33
Denver, Colorado
It was the evening before the closing celebration, and the conference center was packed even tighter than the previous nights, filled with the entire population of Denver, by the look of it. Arnold and Julie took their seats in the now-familiar guest seating area, Devin and Anne in front of them, and waited as the choir serenaded the crowd with the usual collection of hymns and spirituals.
When the music died down, Elijah approached the podium with more reverence than for the other sermons and tapped on the microphone before clearing his throat and giving the sound man a thumbs-up.
“Welcome, welcome, everyone. Tonight is a special night. As everyone knows, after a week of fellowship and reconnecting with one another, tomorrow is the closing celebration. My father will conduct tomorrow’s ceremony, but he’s so excited about something he can’t wait until tomorrow to share, so he wanted to address you tonight as well.”
A collective gasp sounded from the throng. Arnold had to fight the urge to smirk.
“Without further ado, I present to you the one true Prophet of the church, Ulysses Granger!”
The choir broke into song as the gathering rose to its feet. Ulysses strode to the podium from the side of the stage, hands held high as the applause and cheers reached a fever pitch, his eyes glowing with dark intensity beneath a high brow, his white suit nearly blinding in its brightness.
“Thank you, thank you,” he said, waving. “Now take your seats. We have business to attend to. Serious business. The Lord’s business!”
The congregation sat, and Ulysses waited until the room quieted before continuing.
“It’s been a miraculous week. Truly so. We’ve got a host of new folks who have decided to join the church, and more are on their way – our radio transmissions have reached those seeking the light in the far corners of the earth, and they’re coming, I have it on good authority,” he said, and pointed a finger at the sky. “The highest authority!”
More clapping and foot stomping and cheers.
“But if that’s not reason enough to celebrate, I bring you important news! The Lord has delivered unto us one of the false messiahs I’ve warned about – led her to us like a moth to flame. I’m referring to the girl known as Eve – whose blood is the blood of the serpent, and which has been used to interfere with His plan to eradicate the sinful and the unworthy from the earth!”
A curtain stage right opened, and Ellen stepped from the shadows wearing a white tunic. Julie elbowed Arnold; and then Eve, similarly attired, emerged from backstage and blinked in the glare of the lights.
The crowd gasped at her appearance and a moan filled the air. Ulysses shook his head and pointed at Eve.
“Don’t be afraid. We’re in the Lord’s house, and nothing can harm us when we’re enjoying his protection. It’s He who delivered her to us for tomorrow’s celebration, which will be the most important event in our church’s history.”
He paused, and the crowd went silent, hanging on his every word.
“Tomorrow this…creature…will be the centerpiece of our festivities, as a symbol of our faith. She’s worked in union with dark forces that seek to corrupt our world, but we will have none of it. The snake shall not be victorious in this struggle, and our Father delivered her to us as a sign that the time of ascension will be upon us soon. All scores will be settled, all debts paid, and the deserving shall take their rightful position by His side while the sinful shall descend into the fiery pits of eternal hell, where they’ll pay for their worship of false prophets and occult messiahs and graven images.”
Eve blinked at the audience, tiny on the large stage, her expression slack, her eyes drugged. Ellen reached out and pulled her back to the curtain, which they both ducked behind.
Ulysses finished up his announcement with another declaration that tomorrow night’s celebration would be the most important and pivotal point in the church’s history, and then vanished behind the curtain as well.
Julie leaned into Arnold to whisper something, but he shushed her and shot her a warning glance. They sat through a half hour of Elijah railing against the wickedness of mankind and the justification for eradicating most of the planet’s population because of the species’ sinfulness and the lust that presumably resided in everyone’s hearts, and then dutifully filed to the front, where they were blessed and reminded about the mass baptism the following night, before the choir resumed its singing.
Outside, once well away from eavesdropping ears, Arnold motioned for Devin and Anne to join him and Julie beneath a tree.
“So we know they’ve got her,” Julie said. “She looked pretty out of it.”
“They probably drugged her,” Devin said.
“What do we do now? Sounds ominous that she’s going to be the showpiece of tomorrow’s thing,” Anne said.
Arnold frowned and looked to the convention center. “We need to find out where they’re holding her, and rescue her before these psychos can do anything really evil.”
“How do we do that?” Julie asked.
“I’m working on it.”
“What does that mean?”
“They must be keeping her with Ulysses and his inner circle. Find him, and we find her.”
“Sure, okay. But how?”
“That’s the part I’m working on.”
Chapter 34
Denver, Colorado
Arnold sat in one of the few bars in the downtown area, where fellow travelers as well as members of the congregation were nursing beers. Arnold recognized one of the food vendors and carried his beer to the man’s table and smiled at him. “Tough one, huh?”
The man smiled in return and raised his glass. “Yeah. These things take it out of you.” He pointed at a chair. “Take a load off.”
“Thanks,” Arnold said, and sat.
“Where you from?”
“Down Albuquerque way.”
The man frowned. “Heard it’s rough farther south.”
“Yeah, it is. Texas is supposed to be a nightmare,” Arnold said.
“Shame. But not surprising.”
“Why’s that?”
“We had the same thing happen here after the virus. A ton of scumbags tried to take over the city. We had to fight ’em tooth and nail, but eventually they turned and ran, of course. Criminals don’t like a fair fight.”
“Glad you won. This place seems like one of a kind.”
“Yup. We’re all lucky. Praise God.”
“Amen.”
Arnold took a long pull on his beer. “So whereabouts do you live?”
“Over on the other side of the church. There’s no shortage of apartments and houses. Bunch of big hotels, too. I got one of the rooms in the Four Seasons.”
“Got to say it seems a little weird with all the empty high-rises. Kinda like living in a ghost town, isn’t it?”
The vendor laughed. “That’s sort of how I felt at first. But you get used to it. And there’s safety in numbers.”
“Where do the muckety-mucks live? Like Granger’s group? They have someplace special they staked out?”
The man nodded. “They call it the compound. It’s the old performing arts complex. There’s, like, ten theaters. Right next door to the convention center.”
“Why do they live in theaters?”
The vendor shrugged. “I don’t know. But they do. Father and son got their own deals going. Dad’s a loner, lives with a bunch of guards and clergy in the big building – the inner circle of the church, like that place in Italy, you know? Son took over one of the others and has his crowd over there.”
“Right. The Vatican. Sounds like quite a production. Lot of people involved?”
“At least a couple of hundred. They’re also the city government. I’ve never been in there, but I got a buddy who’s a carpenter, and he said they built it out like nobody’s business. Rooms for everyone, power, water, the whole deal.”
“Why does the father have so many guards?”
&nbs
p; “Dunno. That’s just the way it is. Nowadays you need firepower to keep the bad guys at bay. The place is locked down tight, and they patrol it twenty-four seven – and everyone knows it. It’d be suicide to attack the Prophet; not that anyone would.”
“He’s quite a speaker, isn’t he?”
“The man’s the voice of the Lord,” the vendor intoned, and finished his beer. “So you planning on joining us?”
“Looking that way. My wife is sold.”
He smiled knowingly. “Then you are. You won’t regret it. We’re like one big family.”
“That’s how it seems. You want another one?” Arnold offered.
“Nah. I got to be up early again tomorrow for the big show. We’re expecting the whole congregation for the last day. Almost six thousand strong. Going to be hectic.”
Arnold watched the man leave. Of course the Prophet would live in a compound guarded like an army base. That would also be the logical place to keep Eve – right next to the convention center, so convenient, and no chance of a five-year-old escaping; not that they were known for that.
He swallowed the last of his ale and rose. It was a nice night out, if a little chilly. Perfect for a walk.
The bar was three blocks from the hotel, and he continued past it to the darkened convention center. On the far side, the performing arts center was brightly lit, power obviously being no problem for the church. He strolled along the boulevard on the other side of the street and spotted guards at each corner, along with a group of three men patrolling the grounds. They spied him and stopped to watch him continue along his way, and didn’t resume their patrol until he’d rounded the corner.
Chapter 35
Newport, Oregon
The sun rose over Newport, revealing a killing field on the beach. The bloated corpses of some of the Chinese were floating on the incoming tide, pulled into the water by the ocean’s surge.
Art surveyed the ruined hotels with Lucas, Sam, and Bill, and then turned to the ship.
“We might have an opportunity here,” he said. “That vessel came from Seattle, and China before that. And it’s ours now.”
The Day After Never (Book 7): Havoc Page 17
