Salvation | Book 1 | Salvation

by McNeil, Nick

  “The damn Notebook over here.” Amelia pulled out a fresh piece of gum.

  Levi’s eyes pushed together into a scowl. “We could have gotten more information out of him. He was answering almost anything we asked him.”

  “Not to mention I don’t think he wanted to kill us.” Clementine’s voice trembled. She was more worried about speaking out of turn than she was afraid of the situation. “He seemed more into bringing us in than killing us. He wasted most of his ammo on the cabin.”

  Mr. Jones let go of his wife and gritted his teeth. “I am usually one to keep calm, but I don’t think your mother could have waited much longer than she did.” Mrs. Jones ignored Levi’s remarks and ran her hand through Abe’s hair.

  “I’m not trying to make a big deal out of it.” Levi gave a deadpan expression. “I’m just saying. We should be more open to interrogations.”

  “Okay, Mr. Guantanamo.” Amelia popped a bubble and proceeded to smack her gum.

  “I feel like I am always the one raining on the parade,” Dinesh interrupted.

  Amelia laughed. “That’s because you do.”

  “But I think we should take their car and get out of here,” Dinesh finished. “We lost those guys miles back in the car chase—the car chase, let me emphasize.” He waved his hands in the air to accentuate the madness. “And they still tracked us. Not to mention the car chase itself. They seem like they will literally die before not completing a mission.”

  “Dinesh is right.” Amelia rolled Jacob over with her foot and took his car keys. “I’ll drive. Someone should grab those lunatics’ guns.” Amelia started the car and turned it back off. “It’s just shy of three-quarters full. Not bad.”

  “That means where they’re located, they actually must be close,” Dinesh informed them. “Unless they filled up somewhere along the way, how much gas they’ve burned should indicate how far they’re stationed.”

  “And what good does that do us?” Amelia barked. “Quite frankly, I don’t give a shit about these people, and I never want to interact with them again. Can we please just load up and get to Dad’s magic Barbie dream home?”

  “I call shotgun.” Jay jumped over the dead corpses like hurdles on a track and leaped into the front of the car.

  Seattle, Washington

  10:00 a.m.

  The smell of pine and lemons still wafted through the hallways inside the Seattle Medical Center. Clacks and thrashing from the sounds of rummaging echoed throughout the messy hallways. Squeaky wheels and people calling out mixed into the ambiance of the hospital. The patient rooms and storage closets were ransacked, and the floors were covered in bloodstains. No doctor or nurse was in sight.

  Amar blinked a few times and studied the room. His vision was clouded, and his body felt weak. He tried to move his legs, but he was too fatigued. He turned his head and looked outside the room. People scurried around the hallway like rats. Large purple bags rested under his eyes. He was hooked up to an IV and a few other machines; however, nothing was powered. He held his breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and sat up. His bullet wounds felt like knives twisting inside his skin. He ripped out his IV and the small sensors attached to his skin. Amar lifted his hospital gown to uncover his stitched-up injuries. He dangled his legs off the side of his bed and stepped onto the cold tiles.

  A group of six men marched in the shape of a pyramid, peeking their heads into each room one by one. The man in the front carried a handgun, while the five men behind him were all armed with rifles. They were dressed like hunters and paraded in unison. The men arrived at Amar’s room and halted. They turned together, walked into Amar’s hospital room, and approached Dinesh’s father.

  Amar wanted to scurry away, but couldn’t find the strength. His feet gave out from under him. He tried to grab the railing around his hospital bed, except his grip couldn’t clutch the rail, and he crashed onto the hard tile floor. “Please.” He struggled to push the words out his lips. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “We will bring you no harm.” The man with the pistol crouched down to make eye contact with Amar. He had a heart-shaped tattoo under one of his green eyes. His hair was black and slicked back. “My name is Elijah.” His voice was masculine, yet soft. His skin was youthful; his smile felt warm and welcoming. “We had a feeling we might find you here.”

  “You were looking for me?” Amar tilted his head back. The noises of the hospital rang and ricocheted through his head.

  “We are always looking for children of Gideon.” The five men behind Elijah circled around him.

  “But I’m not…” Amar was out of breath.

  “Shh.” Elijah put his hand over Amar’s mouth. “Don’t be foolish. Of course you are,” he snapped. The five men surrounding him helped Amar up and then lifted him off the ground. “Everyone is a child of Gideon. Some are just more ready than others.”

  Amar wanted to resist. His body was too weak and his vocal cords too tired to push out any words. He let them carry him right out of the room. Amar struggled to keep his eyes open. Time evaporated away each time he closed his eyes then reopened them. What he thought were seconds were really minutes. Before long, he was loaded into the back of a truck. His body was pressed against two others, but he didn’t care as the fatigue washed over him. A tarp was pulled over the truck bed, and Amar lost all vision to the outside world. If it weren’t for their loud breathing, Amar would have assumed they were dead.

  Amar couldn’t feel his arms or legs. His face went numb, and the sound of his own breath was all he could hear. It was almost comforting. He closed his eyes and gave in to his weariness.

  The truck stopped and Amar heard the truck doors open. His heart rate increased. The truck had stopped many times before that point, but the men never exited the vehicle. It was quiet. Amar couldn’t hear anything beyond the sound of the wind slapping against the tarp pulled over him. Dinesh’s father heard brushing against the side of the truck. A blinding light from the sun made Amar see blotches and random colors. The men pulled the tarp entirely off the truck and opened the tailgate. The two individuals next to Amar didn’t budge.

  “Wake up, darlings.” Elijah slapped the side of the pickup truck. Two of Elijah’s lackeys grabbed the people next to Amar. “I have a good feeling about you.” The man next to Elijah slid Amar out of the truck bed by his ankles and threw him over his shoulder.

  “I can walk.” Amar squirmed less than he was attempting. The lackey dropped Amar onto the soft and rich soil. Amar peered side to side; he had no clue where he was. The scenery looked just like a dozen other forests he had hiked before. He was nudged forward by Elijah, and when he looked up, he saw a single home. The building was small but cozy—closer to a cottage than a home. It was built with red bricks that were held together with a golden-dyed cement. Square windows rested on each side of the wooden front door. The roof was shaped like an upside-down V and was held together by brown shingles. “Where are you taking us?” Amar quivered.

  “Don’t sound so frightened.” Elijah strutted ahead of the group and walked backwards so he could face Amar and the others. “We have done absolutely nothing to harm you. In fact, one could argue you might be dead right now if it weren’t for our rescuing.” He stopped walking when his heel touched the front door of the cabin. “You are going to have a lot of questions. But I think it is best that you save them for the end of the tour.” Elijah opened the door.

  The cabin was a single square room. There was no kitchen or restroom, just a bed, fireplace, desk, and a rug in the middle. The two lackeys who were not aiding anyone from the hospital moved the bed frame off the corner of the rug and slid the table away as well. They folded the rug in half, revealing a cellar door. Elijah grabbed the handle and opened the wooden door. A stone staircase was connected to the floor of the cabin. The two men carrying individuals from the hospital headed down the stairs.

  “Please.” Elijah signaled for Amar to enter ahead of him.

  Amar hobbled to the staircase, and Elija
h grabbed his arm and helped him with his first steps underground. “I think I know where my family might be. Is there any way I can—”

  Elijah put his finger over Amar’s lips. “I promise you, your family is not wherever you last found them. No one stays in one place anymore. Please, Gideon is always waiting to meet you.”

  Amar used the wall for support and limped down the stone stairwell. It was lit by strung-up Edison lights. Amar felt like he was entering a cave; however, it didn’t smell damp or feel cool as he expected it to be. The air was fresh and held a scent of herbs. After just a couple of dozen steps, they reached a wooden door; it was full of cracks and had a pull handle. One of Elijah’s henchmen used his shoulder to open the door.

  The entrance was coated in dirt, but the room was vast and lined with fresh grass. A dozen football fields could have fit within the room’s walls. Several stone columns were scattered about for structural support. Ivy and vines spiraled and grew up to the ceiling. Wildflowers sprouted randomly across the pasture. Dozens and dozens of men in red robes roamed about, some with clear tasks, and others with seemingly no place to be.

  The room felt chilly, sending goosebumps up Amar’s spine. “How is this possible?”

  “Because God wanted it to be,” Elijah praised. “Surely, you must be a man of faith.”

  “I have faith.” Amar nodded. The lights were easy on his eyes. The room had a purple tint from the grow lights. “Is it always purple in here?”

  “Not always, it switches between regular lighting and this. The plants and trees like it, I guess.” Elijah grabbed Amar’s arm. “This way.” Before Dinesh’s father could reach the grassy campus, he was dragged to a metal side door. The others he’d arrived with did not accompany him, only Elijah. “Make yourself comfortable. Gideon will be with you shortly.”

  West Pines, Washington

  1:00 p.m.

  Cheltenham lay diagonally across the lower half of his bunk beds. He was asleep with an open bag of Cheetos in his hand. Powder and crumbs covered his fingers and lips. His clothes were the same as the last time he’d encountered the Jones family. A beep came from his computer and a notification popped up on his screen. Another notification popped up. Mr. C, asleep like a log, didn’t budge. A spam of notifications sprang up, all from the same Messenger app. Cheltenham woke up like he was in a nightmare, sending his Cheetos flying across the bed and floor. He moseyed over to the computer screen. He read the first notification and rubbed his eyes. His jaw dropped, his eyes too tired to budge. He blew his warm breath onto his glasses and cleaned them off with his shirt. He read over the messages once more. He had to filter between the important messages and the reactions from the others in the group chat.

  Alvin: We finally gained some intel on who might just be behind all of this. Here are the names we have so far. Michael Breeze, Kevin Zhang, Ankit Kapoor, Abraham Jones, Jonathan Wise.

  Alvin: We have only found where a couple of them are from.

  Alvin: Kevin Zhang—Fengtai District, Beijing, China

  Alvin: Abraham Jones—West Pines, Washington, United States

  Wesley: Cheltenham, don’t you live out in West Pines? I can check the list again to double-check, but I am pretty sure he does.

  Amanda: I just checked, he does.

  Cheltenham scrolled through the messages until he found more information.

  Brandon: We also know that Kevin Zhang is single and lives on his own. Abraham is unmarried, but has two children: Amelia and Levi.

  Jake: You know any Joneses in West Pines, Big C? lmao

  Alvin: Those are pretty slim odds, lol

  Cheltenham continued to browse.

  Amanda: I have reports that there is some crazed cult people going nuts on the surface out here.

  Jake: That is bizarre! I have heard the same thing.

  Brandon: Heard it!? I went to go hunting and saw these dudes from afar kidnapping a woman and her children. They dress like hunters and travel in pretty big groups.

  Amanda: I heard the same thing!

  Mr. C pulled out his desk chair and sat down. He turned the brightness on his computer screen up and typed away.

  Cheltenham: Are you sure this is accurate information?

  Brandon: Look who is up!!!

  Amanda: Welcome back to the land of the living. You’ve been out for a while.

  Alvin: This came from a source that I trust greatly. They have never given me wrong information in the past. They would tell me nothing over something false.

  Cheltenham: I know an Abraham Jones. I also know that your information isn’t entirely accurate because Abraham is actually married.

  Amanda: You know him!

  Jake: Holy shit! You know I don’t believe that for a second.

  Alvin: Hang on. Everyone stop typing.

  Alvin: I’ll send you the pdf. But I see here that his wife died in childbirth.

  Cheltenham: Interesting. Their father is an asshole, honestly. Decked me in the face. But the type smart enough to accomplish this? He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to count from 0.

  Alvin: Damn! Do you have any clue where he is?

  Cheltenham: They took off on the first day. He said he had a bugout location, but didn’t mention where, obviously.

  Alvin: Shit.

  Jake: What is our game plan if we find him, anyways?

  Alvin: I honestly just want to talk to him. If we can find out how he did it, then maybe we can undo it.

  Amanda: Even if he tells us, we know he’s probably working with dozens of people.

  Alvin: There are first steps for everything.

  Cheltenham leaned back in his reclining wheeled chair and massaged his temples. He closed his eyes and eased his mind. “Holy. Shit.” He stopped rubbing his head and opened his eyes. Mr. C walked over to the cabinet Amelia had dug around in. “That idiot.” He laughed. Cheltenham did what his form of running was, back to his computer.

  Cheltenham: I keep a small GPS tracker in every single one of my bags. One of the twins took it.

  Alvin: You son of a bitch! Way to go.

  Jake: I am less than 48 hours from us having full access to several forms of GPS. Without ground support, things may not be as accurate as they once were, but we should be pretty good to go for at least six months before the satellites start breaking down. Anything that wasn’t already downloaded, we can’t access, but luckily, between all of us, we should have everything we need.

  Cheltenham: Let’s back this up for one moment.

  Cheltenham: Even if we do get the GPS working and we discover their location, then what? I’m not going out there.

  Alvin: What if I go with you?

  Cheltenham: How do you propose getting here from New York?

  Alvin: I know to keep things honest, we all agreed to share our personal information with each other. But I faked my documents. I am actually from Washington.

  Cheltenham: What? Are you kidding me!! You’ve compromised everything.

  Amanda: Take it easy. I lied too.

  Jake: Same here.

  Brandon: I thought we were all lying. Did you actually tell us where you’re from?

  Alvin: I’m really sorry, C. But if there were a reason to look past it, now could be the time???

  Cheltenham: Fine. But you are all nearly dead to me.

  Cheltenham: Where are you located?

  Alvin: Tacoma. If you send me your exact coordinates, I can be there before sunrise tomorrow. I would leave late tonight.

  Cheltenham: Latitude: 47.52423199728051, Longitude: -122.10747001692654

  Pierce County, Washington

  1:15 p.m.

  “Come on. They look so easy,” Amelia urged, dirt resting on her nose and fingers. “It’ll be like taking candy from Levi.”

  Levi, Amelia, and Abraham hid behind a massive spruce tree that was surrounded by shrubs. The plants and bushes growing around the base of the tree reached their chests. The three overlooked a group of people surrounding a campfire. A few children ran a
round as the four adults tended to the fire and meal preparation. They all wore hiking gear, and one couple had yellow hats on. There were two cars, one compact and the other an SUV. The group conversed, looking much more like they were on a camping trip than anything else.

  “They aren’t armed. I can only see one hunting rifle leaning against the barbecue.” Abraham’s stubble had grown into a short beard. He turned the safety off on his AUG.

  “We don’t have much ammunition left. The recent Sons of Salvation loot was useless, with their rusted guns.” Levi’s three-day stubble looked like an average man’s five-o’clock shadow; however, for a seventeen-year-old, it was rather well filled in. “If it comes to it, we all know what to do. But it would be best if we avoid a gunfight for once.”

  “Agreed. Take my lead.” Abraham started to walk, yet Amelia swaggered ahead of them.

  “Don’t you know that smoke is a dead giveaway of your location. It’s like blood in the water for a shark.” Amelia walked into the middle of the campsite, with the barrel at her waist and pointed forward. The children froze in place while the adults scurried. There were two men and two women. All three children were girls. “Not another step.” Amelia took aim.

  The man near the barbecue continued to move and reached for his hunting rifle. Amelia took a shot at his reaching hand, her aim was a little off, but she was still able to lodge a bullet into the man’s forearm. He fell to the dirt, inches short of his firearm. Levi stepped over the man and grabbed his gun. “There are children around. I can’t believe you’d keep this out of your own reach.” He inspected the rifle. “And with the safety off.” He looked to his sister and shook his head sarcastically. “You were even ready for action.”

  Abe separated the wives from their husbands and held the women and children hostage at gunpoint.

  “Tsk, tsk.” Amelia sat in one of their fold-out chairs, keeping her aim at the group of people from her hip. “An open flame with nothing around it, guns without their safeties on. You really have created a toxic environment.”

  “What the hell do you want?” the man in the hat cried. Tears ran down his face.