by EE Isherwood
“It sounds like they’re serious about finding us.”
She wrapped an arm around his waist while he watched outside. He reciprocated by putting his arm over her shoulder. “Thank you for getting me down the steps.”
“Yeah, well, you probably have some new bruises.”
He squeezed her. “Ah, that explains why I woke up feeling like an eighty-year-old man. I do have some sore spots.” It was far easier to blame her in jest than admit he’d been the idiot who slipped in the kitchen.
They stood at the window for a long time, only ducking if a drone appeared directly in their field of view. In a perfect world, the glass would block most heat-seeking technology, but it wasn’t foolproof. He figured the thick foundation and dirt would shield them, as long as they stayed down.
By the time sunlight illuminated the horizon, it was time to make a move. “We’ve got to head out. We’re still too close to Fort Collins.”
“Can’t we stay here for a while? I mean, I don’t want to spend another second locked up with you,” she tittered with mock laughter, “but we could wait out their search. Stay off the roads. Stay hidden.”
“Yeah, it would be terrible to be with you,” he replied with equal sarcasm, “but we have a job to do. We have to get to NORAD and delay or sabotage this invasion force. David gave the world one week to kick out our fellow Americans. Unless my calendar is off, it gives us about three days from right now. We can’t squander a minute.”
Her shoulders slumped under his arm. She was upset.
“It’ll be all right,” he continued. “While I was sleeping, I had a good dream.”
“Oh yeah?” she said with rising interest.
“Yep. I dreamed there were Americans still alive out there in the night. They’re the same stock of people who rose against the British and won. They’re the same stock of people who hit a walk-off homerun to fight and win World War II. They’re the same type of folk like that guy last night who drove by us, on the way to his death, with a huge smile on his face and his finger in the air. It gave me hope we can make a difference, you and I.”
She looked at him expectantly, then gently pulled herself from his arm. “You’re right. We have a duty to keep going. I have an obligation as president. I’ll gather the guns.”
Capulin, NM
Brent had his people up and moving as soon as it was nautical twilight. When the sun came up, they’d all eaten their junk food breakfasts, cleaned themselves in the tiny visitor center bathroom, and did their business. Once back in their trucks, they went toward the town of Capulin, intending to return to the main highway.
They drove with their lights off.
“Should we stop in the store again to get more food for these guys?” he asked Trish, who continued to be his co-pilot.
She tugged at her short blonde hair, working out knots. “I wouldn’t mind stopping to see if they have a brush and a basic makeup kit. I know we’re on a mission, and don’t think this is because I’m a woman, but dunking my head under the faucet isn’t working for me. My hair is a greasy, itchy, annoying mess.” She pulled a tangled strand, sounding frustrated. “I don’t need the whole caboodle, but a few face and hair products would help, for sure.”
The young woman put her feet up on the dashboard and pointed to her boots. “And I desperately need a pedicure.”
He cast a sideways glance. “I know some of that isn’t true.”
She laughed. “I’m half-kidding. To answer your question, though, it can’t hurt to stop. We’re only a few hours from Colorado Springs. Then things will be too serious to fool around with stores, even for needy women like me.”
“Right you are,” he chuckled.
A few minutes later, he pulled his small convoy into the parking lot of the store. It wasn’t only due to Trish’s suggestion, but it had been several days since he’d tasted a good cup of coffee. A little caffeine would help wake him up and keep him sharp.
As he got out, he looked around for threats. The store appeared empty, but he caught sight of a twinkling light far down the highway.
He ran to all four police model Chevy Tahoes behind him. “Stay in your vehicles. Engines off. Feet off the brake pedals. Hide!”
By the time he’d gotten back to his own truck, he was out of breath. Trish crouched next to her seat, pistol at the ready. On a whim, he opened the back door and grabbed both of their shotguns. “We might need these.”
They sat there for a full minute as the lights approached. To any onlooker, their trucks would blend in with the abandoned vehicles common on the roads and parking lots. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he said quietly.
“You think they’re friendlies?” she asked doubtfully.
“I think we’ll stay right here to make sure.”
“Agreed.” He checked his mirror, trying to remember which truck Long was in. It bothered him to think about it, but the new guy was the only person he could envision jumping out of his safe spot to go running to the new people. He tried to think back to their morning routines. Was he aware of this approaching convoy? Was Long trying to make them go faster, or slower, to meet it? Nothing pointed to an obvious effort on the man’s part. He chalked it off to paranoia.
The convoy was led by a military police car. It was painted olive drab, and the model was from the previous decade, at least. The red-and-blue lights were off, but there was enough morning light to see the Mexican flag painted on the door.
“What the eff?” he blurted. “Is this the Mexican army?”
The next several vehicles were large armored cars. They were painted the same drab color and flew the same flag. However, after six or seven of them passed, a new color scheme appeared on a different style of armored truck. They had six wheels, instead of four. The flag changed, too, though Brent didn’t recognize it.
Trish scooted up in her seat. “Is that good or bad?”
He continued to watch the military rigs fly along the highway. By his estimation, there were at least a hundred vehicles on the roll, with a dozen different flags painted on them. At long last he saw the end, but he couldn’t come up with a proper answer for her.
“I honestly have no idea.”
CHAPTER 17
Fort Collins, CO
After all his efforts at reducing their infrared signature, Ted still had no idea if the drones up in the sky were even searching for IR targets, though he still assumed they were. Like everything else with the invading army, they seemed to steal American technology and put it to their own purposes. For some things, their purpose was obvious, such as the airports. For others, however, like high-tech weapons systems, they might not have the manpower or technical skills to properly operate them. He’d seen that with their lax security and failed programmers in their critical server farm back in Minot.
Sometimes, all he had was his gut.
They’d gathered their weapons and gear in the SUV. He sat inside the cab with her, but left his door ajar so he could get out and lift the garage door. Before going further, however, he needed a few moments to think.
“What’s on your mind, friend?” Emily said with a pleasant tone.
“We haven’t seen or heard the drones for thirty minutes. I think it’s time to go, but I don’t like to stake our entire mission on a gamble.”
“But we can’t stay,” she reminded him.
“Yep. This is a classic cost-benefit scenario.”
“Don’t overthink it. Your instincts have been spot-on for as long as I’ve known you. Hell, you were amazing stopping my would-be assassin on Air Force Two. Talk about the right time, right place.”
He had to laugh. “I never told you how that happened, did I?”
She sat up. “Tough grit and a keen eye?”
Ted shook his head. “I was checking you out. You were wearing your thin business skirt and I accidentally found myself admiring your figure. I was respectful about it, but I can’t tell a lie. That’s what I was doing. Then Jeffries pulled his gun…”
> Emily thought about it for a few seconds. “I guess I should be thankful I didn’t choose that day to wear clothes as unflattering as this ensemble.” She swooshed her hands over her baggy, black pants.
“Saved by the skirt,” he mused.
“We’ll talk about what’s appropriate in our next staff meeting. For now, go with that same gut. I can’t ask you to know what’s in the sky from here to NORAD.”
“All right. If this goes sideways, you’ve just given me plausible deniability.” He winked at her, then ran to the garage door to open it. When it was up, he checked the skies one last time. There wasn’t a sound to be heard, save some robins chirping happily in the front yard.
Gut, don’t fail me now.
He pulled out of the garage, initially timid about being exposed. However, once he had the truck facing the driveway, he committed himself to the hustle. Minutes later, after screaming down the gravel path and getting back onto the main two-lane highway, Ted let out a long breath.
“See?” Emily said. “Your instinct was right. We’re on our way.”
He checked the rearview mirrors, alert for flying objects, or perhaps to see the house go up in a fiery blast, but everything remained as it was. They were back in the literal middle of nowhere, with grass and farmlands from one end of the flat horizon to the other.
Eventually, he released one hand from the wheel. “Can you do me a favor?” He pulled out his phone. “Text Kyla to let her know we’re doing okay, now that she’s had time to cool off. I’d love to hear she’s fine too, you know?”
“I do,” Emily replied.
She took the phone and began the process of texting. Once it was sent, she sat there watching it, waiting for a reply. A short time later, she held the screen toward him. “It says my message didn’t go through.”
He squinted to see the tiny words. “Eh, we don’t have a network connection. That’s all right. I think it will send it when we get a signal again. I can’t imagine there are many cell towers in this part of the world. I certainly can’t see any.”
They drove for another sixty miles toward the rising sun, but Ted turned right at a lonely intersection on the high plains.
“Another gut feeling?” she asked, still looking out her window at the nothing.
“I’ll keep everyone guessing, including me.”
For the next hour, he chose numerous other routes, going east, west, and south, but he arranged his turns to take them toward the southeast. His plan, such as it was, depended on skirting around the crowded city of Denver and come at NORAD from the south. If, by some miracle, David’s people figured out he and Emily had been in Minot, North Dakota, it wasn’t hard to fathom where they’d be heading if they were already in Fort Collins. It was great to know Emily had likely gotten herself on camera, so it could help the war effort overseas, but he knew it also raised their profile on the threat matrix of the invasion force.
For the time being, it was nice to be nowhere, and see nothing.
NORAD Black Site Sierra 7, CO
Victor removed his hand slowly, then turned her to face him. She locked eyes and somehow knew he was confused, not angry.
He spoke in muted tones. “What are you doing here? Are you trying to escape again? Don’t you know what they’ll do to you?”
“As I said before, this isn’t about you. This is about my friends. I’ve got to get help for them. Since no one in this place is going to give me the time of day, I need to find someone from the outside. I’m sure you can scare up a better girl than me for your love cruise.” She had no idea if it was true, but it seemed to make him stand back.
“I’ll help you,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Help me what? Get back to your room?”
He shook his head wildly. “No! I’ll help you by distracting the guards. We can do ‘get help’.”
Her brain searched for where she’d heard the phrase before. It was hard to locate, but the tumblers in her mind eventually fell into place, and it rolled out. “You mean from that superhero movie?” It was a way of approaching guards while begging for help, as if an emergency medical situation was in progress. When the guards least expected it, the heroes would attack. The scenario was goofy, but it struck her as even more outlandish the enemy boy would know it. “How do you know about American movies?”
“Are you kidding? I’m a movie buff. Ask me any movie question you want. I bet I can answer it.”
She leaned back on her heels, deep in thought.
“What?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s weird. I assumed you were from another planet or had spent your life in a barn practicing for the invasion of my country.”
“I’m not an alien. My parents were from California. And if there’s one thing the movies taught me, it’s you don’t trip up a, um, woman, who’s trying to rescue her friends.”
She didn’t want to find a deeper meaning to his change of heart. To keep him on task, she thumbed over her shoulder. “So, movie buff, how are you really going to help me with those guards?”
“First, take this.” He handed her a backpack. “It has food and water. For outside.” He then pointed to a side hallway about fifty feet back the way they’d come. “You wait over there. I’ll draw the guards to my room. It’ll be easy.”
“You brought me food?” she said with surprise. “You knew I was going to try to leave?”
He smiled a bit.
“And you won’t report me?” she continued with suspicion, even while accepting the pack.
Victor looked hurt. “Despite what you think, I don’t want to see anyone put to death because of me. That’s not what I signed up for.” He halted, before continuing in a more subdued voice. “Be a hero. Rescue the lady and stuff. I’m cool with all of it, but you should also know if I get caught helping you, I’ll be in a lot of trouble. If you do get away, I’ll pretend to not know anything about it. If you get yourself caught, do you think…”
He wasn’t exactly a model of super heroism, but he wasn’t cowering in his room calling David, either. She clenched her jaw and cut him a break. “I won’t turn you in. I promise.”
He brightened, then waved her on. “Go!”
After she got to the dark corridor, Victor gave her a thumb-up signal. He then stumbled around the corner. “Get help! My betrothed needs medical attention!”
She quietly snickered at his male bravado. It played out exactly as he’d planned it, too. He and the guards ran by the side hallway, anxious to ‘get help’ to where it was needed, leaving her alone to return to the elevators.
“Now, for a hasty good-bye,” she said to the elevator button as she arrived in the loading area. The doors parted as soon as she clicked it.
Once inside, she studied the round buttons for the other floors. The one at the top was labeled “OUT.” It wasn’t hard to figure out what it meant. The levels counted down from 3 to 1. She was on 1. The next lower level was 0. From there, the digits descended to minus four, though there was one last button with ‘LOW1’ on it.
The doors closed, though she still hadn’t picked a destination. Her hesitation stemmed from the placement of the guards. She couldn’t say for certain they were everywhere, but the one place they would absolutely be found was the topmost level. The exit. If she went to the top now, without a weapon to her name, she would be caught for sure.
I could hide.
As a child, hiding in the mine was one of the games she’d played with Mom and Dad. It gave her the idea of doing the same down in the bunker. She had some food and water. Spending days in a supply closet would be better than pretending to enjoy living with Victor or being trotted around by David. When the time was right, she’d find a real weapon, go to the surface, fight her way out, then go find help for Audrey and Peter.
Her internal clock warned her the guards would soon be back. Victor would have to explain why he’d needed help. Maybe they knew he’d faked it and were already on their way back to the elevator to catch her…
Her
fast breathing was almost at panic level. A choice needed to be made.
“Going down.” She clicked the LOW1 button, causing the elevator to lurch into action. Once on the move, she leaned against the support bar, relieved no one had found her.
The LED lights above the door counted down to minus four, then went blank. The other floors ticked by quickly, leading her to wonder why she hadn’t reached the last one on the list. Several minutes of travel went by, and she sensed the machine had picked up speed as it went, but still a number didn’t appear.
“Uh oh,” she said to herself, wondering how far she was going. Visions of looking down the bottomless pit made her fear she’d somehow put herself on a course to its bottom. How long would it take to ride an elevator for ten miles? Didn’t David say something about not being able to go all the way down in one shot?
It took ten minutes, by her estimation, before the light finally came on.
“Thank God!” The elevator car decelerated and settled to a stop, followed by a long pause. She was dressed in her blue unitard, carrying a food bag over her shoulders, with nothing but fists for weapons. She was filled with a nervous electricity, as if she’d taken a wrong turn into a bad neighborhood. Whoever appeared outside the doors would never expect someone like her to come out swinging.
She balled her fists, ready for anything.
CHAPTER 18
Wheatland, WY
“I surrender!” Meechum shouted, louder than before. “I’m coming out!”
“We have multiple shooters watching you,” the man’s voice said in return. “Don’t try anything fancy.”
“I’m a US Marine,” she replied in a lower voice. “Don’t fire on me.”
Kyla listened to silence for a short time before the man spoke again, albeit in a more natural tone of voice, as if Meechum was closer to him. “You said you were with the US Marines. Why are you dressed like a Blackout?”
