Two Wolves and a Sheep: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (Minus America Book 4)

by EE Isherwood

  “Like a diversion?”

  “Yeah, but there’s only two of us now. It would have to be a pretty amazing act to truly divert anyone.”

  Emily pulled at her seatbelt to let out some slack. He commiserated with her; they’d been riding almost the entire day. It was a simple matter to take off his seatbelt, but it would be his luck to get into a wreck even though there were no other moving cars on the highway. He didn’t want his gravestone to say, “He would have saved the country, except he flew out the window in a crash because he got uncomfortable wearing a seatbelt.”

  When she was situated, she went on. “They undoubtedly know I’m alive. There’s no way they haven’t figured out our identities after going into their base and spiking their computers. Maybe there’s something we can do with that knowledge?”

  Ted experienced a momentary pang of regret about Kyla. She’d been instrumental in ensuring they all escaped from the air base at Minot. If he hadn’t brought her, he and Emily might be permanently out of the game. At the same time, if things had gone differently, they might all be dead. “Let’s assume they’re on the lookout for us, and they don’t really know where we’re going next. Ramirez had a clue we’d have to go to NORAD to disable the entire system, but he never contacted anyone before Meechum took care of him.”

  “Makes sense,” she agreed.

  “Then they’d most likely jump into action if a sign popped up showing where you were. All we have to do is make sure you aren’t there by the time they arrive.”

  “Sounds easy.”

  He nodded, thinking to himself again. They could get on the radio somewhere, an airport perhaps, and taunt the enemy forces. It might serve what they need. But maybe it wouldn’t be enough…

  “You have an idea how?” she said a short time later.

  “No, not really. I was thinking about how we saw the girl on the television recording back when we were in Minneapolis. If we could get you into a TV station, maybe we could put you on the air.”

  “I could declare war on those jack-wagons.”

  He laughed. “Is that what you call them?”

  She reached over and bopped him on the shoulder. “It’s what my dad used to call bad language. He wasn’t a cussing man, but when someone really steamed him, he’d break out the wagon. It seemed to fit the situation here.”

  “Anyway, whoever they are, they’d have to come running if you got on the TV and announced a declaration of war. I mean, we all know the declaration is redundant since we’re fighting for our existence, but it would still be a legitimate use of the airwaves. We might even get some friendly troops to get off their asses and recapture some of this great land.” He motioned outside the windows.

  “I’m happy to go on television and say whatever, but where are we going to find a working studio? And if we found such a place, what are the chances it’s being operated by the bad guys?”

  The girl he’d watched on the TV monitor appeared to be in a normal, everyday studio, but she’d been there shortly after the attack on America. Things were still working back then. Now, everywhere they drove, power was off. That small detail might stop them from even trying to find their own microphone.

  He wanted to toss an alternative out there for them to discuss, but only one thing came to mind, and it wasn’t an act he took lightly. “We could sabotage them.”

  “Ooh, I like that even better.”

  “Really?” Her enthusiasm surprised him.

  “As long as we can do it without getting hurt. Like starting a fire or blowing up a bridge. You’re the expert. How do we inflict the maximum damage, so they’ll come running, while also not endangering ourselves?”

  He almost said it was impossible. Working behind enemy lines, especially when the goal was to get yourself noticed, was the epitome of dangerous. There was a reason it was normally left to special forces.

  “Look. Houses.” He pointed down the roadway. A larger town appeared in the distance. “I think we’re at Fort Collins. We must have crossed the Colorado state line while we were jaw-jacking.”

  She rubbed her hands together. “Let’s find a way to strike back at them, Ted. I think you’ve got it correct. The only way we can make our assault on the NORAD base a little easier is if we make some of them come out to look for us. If I remember, Fort Collins isn’t too far from Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado.”

  “The home of NORAD,” he agreed, knowing the main facility was actually a few miles away at Peterson Air Force Base. However, if there was one thing he was sure about, it was how an invading force would want to take over the bunker under Cheyenne Mountain. Nothing like an impenetrable vault inside Fortress America to give your team an edge. Still, there were always ways to maximize their chances of surviving another day.

  Ted briefly thought of those boys fighting in Texas. The guard at Minot said the Americans had struck a blow against them down in the Lone Star State. He wished he could watch the news to see how they did it.

  He snapped his fingers. “The news!”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. We can kill two jack-wagons with one stone. I’ll explain in a second.” He drove over some grass to leave the highway, then he steered onto a side street at the edge of town. “Let’s pick one of these homes and take a break. I have a plan…”

  NORAD Black Site Sierra 7, CO

  Tabby followed David from the big hole, the thing he called his superweapon, to another interior chamber in the rocky bunker. When she walked into the large room, she immediately became embarrassed by her tight-fitting attire. There were lots of young men standing around a raised platform in the middle of a gymnasium. She skidded to a stop before going in. “What is this place?”

  David didn’t stop. “Speech time. Then I’ll show you how I deal with those who refuse to follow our rules.”

  She gathered her chestnut brown hair, so the long locks were once again evenly draped over her chest. It seemed ridiculous to the extreme, and she was thankful to have the skirt, but Mom always taught her about modesty. If she had to suffer the torture of walking into such a room, she would do it on her own terms. She jogged to catch up, hating how David was her guide, but not sure where else to go.

  The white-haired man went up a few steps and indicated she should join him on the platform. He picked up a microphone and tapped it to be sure it was on. “Men. Thank you for gathering on such short notice, but I’m positive you will want to be a part of this.” He motioned her over. “This is my new friend…”

  You wish.

  “Tabitha Breeze. Tabitha has come to us from the old America. She’s the last of them, but I hope to make her one of us in no time. However, while I have you men here, I want to share a milestone we’re about to reach.”

  The audience stared at David as if he was a preacher and they were sinners in his flock. She could maybe see a slight appeal to the man, minus the eyes, but not the over-the-top adoration she saw on the faces of the young men in the audience. Ironically, she thought, none of them were openly looking at her. The whole affair made no sense.

  “When all our pieces are in position in the European strike zone, we can eliminate the next largest threat to our mission. Currently, the nations of the European Union are too busy trying to expel the remaining Americans, so they’ve not had any thoughts of coming here to stop us. Once they’re gone, it’s on to the Russians, the Chinese, and the rest of them.” He lifted his hands, which caused the men to clap and chant.

  “Free America! Free America! Free the world!”

  She got a better look at them. They wore black jumpsuits, like many of the others, but they had three white stripes down the sides of their chests, and white stripes on the cuffs of their sleeves. Looking at them again, she found a passing resemblance to priests, though they couldn’t be religious.

  David lowered his hands and the applause ceased.

  “My fellow members of the Reboot Legion, this invasion would not have been possible without your dedication, hard work, and alleg
iance to the law. My new friend here—” He gestured and turned to face her, which seemingly gave the onlookers the green light to gawk at her outfit. She fought the urge to blush; the young men were not anyone she could cede an inch to. They were her natural enemies. “—has come to get a better understanding of our code of justice. Lucky for her, it’s fairly simple.”

  He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “What is the penalty for rape?”

  “Death,” they replied as one.

  It made her uncomfortable he would lead with that particular crime, but it was strangely comforting to hear what awaited anyone who tried.

  “And what is the penalty for doing drugs?”

  “Death,” they repeated.

  While death seemed appropriate for rape, she had some trouble getting behind the same penalty for doing drugs. It wasn’t due to any fondness for them, but she knew friends and family who’d tried them here or there. Mom even admitted to smoking some of the wacky tobacco when she was in college.

  “And what is the penalty for stealing food?”

  “Death.”

  The list went on and on. She almost told David she got the picture, but she preferred to stay off his radar. Maybe the death penalty was reserved for young women who interrupted him at meetings.

  “And finally, what is the penalty for murder?”

  She almost chanted with them. “Death!”

  “That’s right,” David agreed. “Let it begin,” he added, cryptically motioning toward someone she couldn’t see.

  On stage, a black curtain pulled back at both ends, revealing a giant cube. Tabby noticed a line of men stood quietly next to it, as if it was a well-trafficked port-o-let. It was impossible to know who they were; they all wore black hoods.

  “My friends, the first and last thing on the agenda for this meeting is the sentencing of our traitor. This man—”

  The hood of the first person in the line was ripped off. She recognized him as the crazy guy from the jail. The sooty-skinned, black-eyed, beat-up man searching for his friend Poppy. It seemed poetic the rude prisoner would be so reviled by David.

  “—is responsible for the death of six legionnaires in Folsom, California. We are a new nation built on total adherence to laws. The law for murder such as what he committed says he must be put to death. But, as you know, I abhor violence—”

  Tabby couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling up from her belly. If she found it ironic they’d taken a crazy guy and lined him against the wall to die, it was absolutely hilarious David would say what he did. She snorted noisily as she tried to temper the laugh.

  David’s eyes turned to fireballs of hatred for half a second. She’d pissed him off in front of his little friends. Nine times out of ten, she’d tell him to stuff it, but all the talk about murder made her reconsider. She bowed her head in pretend penitence.

  He took a long moment, probably considering what to do with her. Eventually, however, he spoke to the group about the original target. “So, this man’s sentence will be non-violent. Put him in the David Cube.”

  He named it after himself?

  One of the guards roughly pushed the injured man through the entrance to the cube, then shut the heavy door. When it was securely locked, the guard nodded to David.

  “My friends, observe.”

  The cube filled with white light, almost as if it was water. In seconds, the entire box was solid white, glowing on the stage like a little sun. A short time later, the energy seemed to drain until it was gone. To her surprise, the man was still there.

  “Get him out.”

  When the guy came through the door, he was happy as could be. “Poppy! You’re back. I missed you. Yeah, it was like another world in there. Is that where you were hiding?”

  David flashed her a bemused look, as if breaking the man’s brain was intentional.

  The leader spoke to the others but continued to watch Tabby. “He appears fine, but this is only part one of his debt to our society. In a few hours, we will be able to see part two. In the meantime, his sentencing served as a warmup for what we have in store for the next prisoner in the line…”

  All the men turned their eyes back to the stage, but David leaned in closer to her. She smelled his nauseating coffee breath as he spoke low enough so only she could hear him. “You will never conduct yourself with such an emotional outburst in front of me. I have a special guest coming up and if you make any sound, speak any words, or express any of that rebellious spirit, I’ll be sure to throw your other friend in there.”

  “Other friend?” she asked, afraid the question was wrong to ask.

  He stood tall and waved to the stage. “Take off the hood of the next one.”

  She craned her neck, anxious to see who David meant. As she watched, she realized it wasn’t even necessary for them to remove the hood. She’d recognize her scrawny friend anywhere. She’d spent most of the past week with her.

  Audrey.

  CHAPTER 8

  Glendo, WY

  “Come back!” Kyla screamed.

  The silver SUV was well out of the pine grove, driving across the plains toward Glendo and the highway. There was no possible way of catching them on foot.

  “Hey, Dudette,” Meechum said from behind.

  Kyla hopped six inches off the gravel. “Ohmygod! You scared me. I thought you all left me here.” She laughed a bit, walking back to the warrior woman sitting on the lone step at the front of the cabin. “Is Emily with my uncle? Are they coming back?”

  She wanted to see Meechum smile and tell her the lovebirds had snuck out for a few minutes to be alone. It wasn’t possible they’d leave her and the Marine behind, not for any reason. The two of them were valuable to the fight.

  The short-haired woman came off the porch. Her demeanor changed from seriousness to a more friendly one. “They went back to the town we just came through. Emily said she saw a pharmacy; she needed some meds, I guess.”

  Kyla instantly relaxed. Of course it would be something simple.

  Meechum continued. “It’s only five miles. They shouldn’t be long.” After giving her a cursory glance, the Marine sat back down on the porch step and proceeded to break down her service pistol. It was her way of saying “take a chill.”

  She didn’t like the splitting up, but Kyla grabbed a spot next to Meechum. After a short time of sitting there listening to the wind blow through the pines, she yanked out her phone. What could it hurt to text Uncle Ted?

  She didn’t get far. “Well, that figures. My phone’s dead.”

  “Do you have a charger?”

  She laughed. “I had three. One was with my work laptop, which is now lost. The other is back at my car parked in the lot next to the JFK. The last one is in Williamsburg, Virginia, at my abandoned apartment.”

  “Was it a common phone? You could search the houses around this lake. I’m sure someone has a charger you could borrow.”

  When she’d been standing behind the cabin, she’d seen no other houses in their line of sight. It wasn’t a very developed lake. However, her phone was one of the more popular models. It shouldn’t be hard to eventually find a replacement charger.

  “Is this something you say to new recruits to keep them busy? Go check all the houses which may or may not be out there, for a charger which may or may not exist.”

  Meechum kept pulling pieces from her pistol, then placing them on her thighs to keep them off the dirty porch. She glanced up once but went right back to her task. It was an answer.

  Kyla leaned back on her hands, content for the moment to wait for her uncle and Emily to return.

  After an hour, she was positive a disaster had befallen them. She hopped up off the step and glared at the gravel road, sure she was going to make the SUV appear in the distance. When it didn’t, she spun on her heels toward Meechum, who had the pieces of her gun laid out on her legs, as usual. “This is getting ridiculous. We have to go find them. This doesn’t feel right.”

  Meechum grabbed each part
in turn and shoved it back into the frame of the pistol. In less than thirty seconds, she had a functioning firearm again. It was impressive to watch. Instead of breaking it down once more, she slid the weapon into a holster.

  “Your uncle had a message for you,” she said nonchalantly while getting to her feet.

  Kyla’s anger flared up. “What the hell are you talking about? You’ve been with me the whole time. My phone doesn’t work. How could he—” She stopped, realizing she’d been tricked. “He’s not coming back, is he?”

  Meechum continued, “He said to tell you the thing he remembered about your mother is she would have wanted you safe at any cost. It’s why he left you here and put me in charge of making sure you don’t follow them.”

  “I knew it!” she replied, before realizing how untrue it was. “What I mean is… I knew this was all wrong. Us sitting here. Them going to the pharmacy. Before leaving, he told me he was going to share a story about my mother I would appreciate. Well, I don’t. At all.” Kyla went into a defensive posture. Hands on hips. Chin up. “And he wanted you to be my babysitter?”

  The Marine shrugged. “I’m sorry for doing this to you. I really am. I tried to argue it, but the president ordered me to let them get clear.” A small arrangement of firearms had been laid on the front porch, along with cartons of ammo and the small box of medical supplies they’d secured from the house in Westby. Kyla had thought it was there for their protection while they waited, but it was theirs for much longer. “Here. It’s time to change our dressings.” She held up a wide bandage, intended for Kyla’s small neck wound.

  She swiped it from Meechum. “Dammit, this isn’t what I want. Sitting in a cabin nursing my wounds. We need to be out there.” She pointed down the gravel road.

  “Amen, sister.”

  “No, I’m serious.” She tossed the bandage and pulled the tablet out of its hiding place under her shirt.

  Meechum saw her reveal it. “Oh, girl. You didn’t…”