by J. P. Castle
No luck.
The guard walked over, “Can I help with that miss? Sometimes these old lockers stick.”
Troian didn’t want to sound suspicious by saying no. “Um, yeah sure,” she said.
The guard put the key into the lock, jiggled it a few times, and popped the door open. “There you are,” he said.
A fifty-dollar bill floated down to the floor.
“Oh, goodness, wouldn’t want you to lose that,” he said, handing the bill back to her.
“Thank you so much,” said Troian. She lifted the heavy bag out and slung it over her shoulder. Its weight nearly toppled her over. She made her way back to the parking lot completely out of breath and in a full-blown sweat. Bastian met her to take the overloaded bag.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you with that,” he said. “I can see you’ve exhausted yourself.”
“This whole week has exhausted me,” she sighed. “But I’m still here.”
Bastian peaked into the bag, nothing but hundreds and fifties. They loaded up to find Ledger.
“How did they manage to get that?” said Bastian, stepping out of his SUV. “Upgrade your ride?”
“Man, you don’t even know,” said Ledger.
“How’d you shake the military vehicle?” said Bastian.
Ledger looked him right in the eye. “Rani blew it up.”
Bastian laughed, “Okay, now seriously.”
“I was serious, Rani blew it up?” said Ledger.
“Rani . . . blew . . . up a vehicle?”
“Dude, you have no idea. Rani Unstoppable can explain it to you later in her new Catwoman costume,” said Ledger.
“Yeah, okay.” Bastian rolled his eyes in disbelief.
Rani stepped casually around the SUV, wearing her new sunglasses. She toddled over to Bastian to give him a kiss. He stopped her, took a step back, and moved his eyes up and down her outfit.
“Rani, why are you dressed like a hooker?” he said with a concerned facial expression.
“How many times today are people going to call me a HOOKER,” she said.
“What really happened? Where’s our SUV?”
“Bashy, Bashy, allow me to explain. Okay, SO, I blew up the first military truck with a grenade, got in a fight with a local gang faction . . . tried to blow them up, but the second grenade landed under a parked car accidentally. I ran, and they kidnapped Ledger. Me ‘n Ginger rescued him with the new guns—they work surprisingly good by the way—then stole their vehicle because they bashed the windows out of ours,” said Rani in a single breath.
“And the clothes?” said Bastian.
“From the sweetest hooker named Laticia, real nice lady,” said Rani. “Class act.”
“You seem so . . . different,” he said, bewildered by her demeanor.
“I’m hungry. I’m tired. Oh yeah, meet Ginger Halliday. She needs to get out of this town now, and so do we before that gang catches up with us. They’re probably a little miffed about the pinball machine I obliterated a few minutes ago with that big gun in the truck,” said Rani.
“You . . . shot a gun?”
“Come on, Bashy, get with the program,” said Rani, snapping her fingers.
Bastian eyeballed Ginger briefly. He decided to sort the details out later.
“I recognize you,” said Ginger, staring intently at Bastian.
“I don’t think so,” said Bastian.
“You’re the face they flashed on the news. They’re gunning for you,” said Ginger.
“Come on, we’re leaving her here, let’s go,” said Bastian in an agitated tone. He didn’t particularly like seeing Rani dressed in her new duds, nor the idea of her morphing into some crime-busting vixen.
“No, take me with you. I’m no threat. I can help you with whatever you need. I need to get out of this town. My cousin, I’m trying to get to her. If she’s still alive, in Anaconda, Montana. She was there when the second wave hit. Said the military pulled in, set up tents, then people started dying a short time after.
“Before the phones cut off, she told me they straight up killed people in the street that tried to argue with them. She said my aunt and uncle both got the vaccine and died five hours later. I told her to hide, I’d come for her, then the phones went dead,” said Ginger.
“We have to take her, Bastian. I made a deal with her,” said Rani.
“Rani, I’m not sure what happened to you in the last sixty minutes, but I don’t like it. We’ll take you some hours away from here, Ginger, then you’re on your own,” said Bastian.
“Fair enough,” said Ginger.
They left the gang’s vehicle parked at the airport. Everyone piled into Bastian’s SUV. Bastian drove through the night to get as far away from New Hampshire as possible. Exhausted, he and Ledger took turns at the wheel.
Fear spread noticeably across the nation. Signs flashed messages on billboards in every city. Each one displayed some version of the same information, ‘Vaccines available at local white tent clinics tomorrow, get your family vaccinated now, avoid the Red Fang virus.’
People donned masks on sidewalks. Traffic congestion went down to half the average rate or less. Citizens remained indoors, afraid to go to work or anywhere else.
Bastian stopped for a charge, bought overnight supplies, and found a Rent Now vacation home on the west side of Toledo, Ohio. His eyes couldn’t correctly focus any longer, Ledger needed rest, too. They all did.
The house they rented for the night boasted two rooms. Ginger slept on the couch. Ledger and Troian shared a room, as did Bastian and Rani. Bastian drifted off to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Hours later, at 1:00 a.m., he awoke to hunger. He quietly slid out of bed, careful not to wake Rani and went to raid any food left in the kitchen that they’d bought earlier.
Troian, unable to sleep well, and hungry too, had already gone down to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator, which was mostly barren. Standing there, surrounded by the dim night light beside the kitchen sink, a draining sadness washed over her.
For the first time, she missed her home and her parents. She missed opening up the fridge and finding a plethora of all her favorite foods inside. My life could turn out to be as empty as this fridge. Her arms chilled from the coolness floating out the door.
Bastian slid up behind her, “Midnight munchies,” he said softly.
Startled away from her depressing thoughts, she turned to face his soft grin. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”
He noticed a disturbance in her facial expression and touched the hand she had resting on the top of the door. “Your hand’s so cold. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Hard to erase the scenes from my head that we saw out there earlier today. The nation really is falling apart,” she said, picking up the mustard.
“It’s gonna get worse than that I’m afraid . . . much worse,” he said. “This thing is just starting.”
“Are we gonna make it through this? I feel like we’ve all lost everything.” Troian’s voice cracked, uttering the words.
Bastian took the mustard from her hand. He sat it on the counter, put his arms around her, and pulled her close. “Yes, we’ve lost a lot, but we’re gonna make it. It’s gonna be okay, somehow. Have faith.”
Troian closed her eyes as he embraced her. With her ear pressed against his white cotton shirt, she could hear his heartbeat steady. She turned her forehead into Bastian’s chest, but when she raised her head to look up at him, she glimpsed Ginger Halliday standing in the kitchen door.
“Ginger,” said Troian, backing away from Bastian.
“Sorry, I heard voices, didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t interrupt anything,” said Bastian. He made a sandwich and went back to bed.
Troian made a sandwich too, and sat down at the kitchen table. “So, what’s your story, Ginger?” she said, checking out Ginger’s facial features while she ate.
Ginger had shoulder-length, layered, copper brown s
traight hair, and green cat-like eyes. Her tanned skin went well with her toned body. She had a hardened, fierceness about her, yet still feminine.
“Nothing much to tell, really. Left home in Rochester last year at eighteen. Got a boyfriend who dragged me off to Manchester. I thought he loved me, but he left me there.
“Laticia found me on the street one day, digging in the garbage for food. I stay with her from time to time. She talked me into going to school. Didn’t want me to end up like her. So, I signed up for beautician school. Supposed to start in six months, guess that won’t happen now.”
“Yeah, life has changed for all of us, and about to change for everyone else, too.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Bad News
A DECENT NIGHT’S rest, along with a shower, refreshed everyone. Rani woke up last. She meandered down the hallway toward the bathroom, her dreary eyes still trying to focus during a final yawn. The bathroom door opened. Ledger stood there, hair still dripping wet, water trickling down his chest. The only thing he had on—a towel. Rani ogled down at the towel he held taught around his waist. Her admiring eyes scrolled slowly up past his abs, to his face. Ledger flipped his wet hair back, amused at her speechless reaction.
“We’re gonna have to stop meeting like this,” he said with a smirky grin. “It’s a little steamy in there. Can you handle it?”
Rani gave him a ‘Rani’ look, with a cocked eyebrow. “Is there a dry towel in there?” she snapped.
“Do you want this one?” he said with a fiendish grin.
“Move it, Ledger Thomas. No one sees my morning face,” she said, squirming passed him to shut the door.
“Sure you don’t need any help in there?” he said, goading her fragile emotions.
The only response he received—the clicking sound of the lock.
Her morning face? What’s that? He snickered, dressed, then met the others downstairs.
Bastian caught him on the way to the car. “What do you think about letting this Ginger tag along. Her face is the only one that’s not on the wanted list . . . unless she’s done things, we’re unaware of. But we might use her if we need to send her inside somewhere?”
“I guess, but careful what you trust her with. We know nothing about her.”
“I agree,” said Bastian.
The group loaded up for the five-hour stint back to Camp Bullfrog. They arrived around 1 p.m.
EVERYONE GATHERED AROUND the campfire for Bastian’s update, even Caleb, who used a walking stick. Bastian briefed them on the critical items and introduced Ginger Halliday to the group.
“I did as you asked Bastian. I researched the Marksmen Monkeys. You wouldn’t believe all the things they’ve predicted through the years that came true. Either someone’s an excellent hacker or in an exceedingly elevated position to be able to gather all of the government’s dirty secrets. Could be a combination of both. They now claim the government is on a murderous rampage to kill 459 million people with Red Fang. That’s a pretty specific number,” said Amir.
“Yes, that confirms what the soldier said, and other information I found on the trip,” said Bastian.
“Did you get to watch the news. Looters got shot here in Chicago, downtown, stealing TVs and anything else they could make off with. Trigger happy cops ‘n dogs are all over the place. All you hear are sirens everywhere. A man shot his entire family in front of a news crew downtown. Others are shouting it’s the end times . . . and we all should get saved,” said Amir.
“Yes, it’s gonna get worse, too. We have to leave the city soon. It’ll be too dangerous for us here. Let me go think.”
Bastian stepped inside the R.V. and sat down at the dinette opposite of Ledger. Caleb rested on the couch.
“You’ve healed some, that’s good,” said Bastian.
“Yeah, I’ll be more useful soon,” said Caleb.
“Don’t worry about that. You’ve proven your worth more than once,” said Bastian. “You will always be family.” His wrist-unit vibrated. Before he could answer it, Joaquin burst through the door.
“Bastian, this SAT phone’s been ringing off the hook for five solid minutes. I wasn’t about to answer it,” said Joaquin, setting the unit down on the dinette table in front of Bastian.
Bastian’s wrist-unit vibrated; again, the SAT phone rang simultaneously. Bastian picked up the SAT phone but didn’t speak any words. A voice came through loud ‘n clear on the other end.
“Hello, Bastian. You’ve been quite a burr in my side. Killed any more of my soldiers lately?”
“Girard,” Bastian said in a stern voice. He stood up from the dinette.
“You need to turn yourself in, kid.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong. Anything I’ve done was purely self-defense,” said Bastian.
“Wrong. You ‘n your buddies have to answer for six murders, maybe more.”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“Oh, it is. If you’re still a free young man tonight, watch the news. There might be some comforting word about your dad. And I’ll find you real soon. I . . .”
Bastian’s wrist-unit went off again.
He cut General Given off. “Hello,” he said.
“No time for introductions, Bastian. This is your Great Uncle Atticus. Get into your vehicles right NOW, go to the place where you spent the first night in the stolen camp store rig.”
“But how did you find . . .”
“Bastian, Girard's men, are gonna be on top of you in less than fifteen minutes,” said Atticus. “Move now or die. MOVE SON,” said Atticus, hanging up the phone.
“Get everyone loaded NOW. Girard’s on his way here. We pull out in three minutes. Tell them if we get separated for any reason, to go to Vedauwoo,” said Bastian.
Ledger slid out from the dinette, exited the R.V., and promptly sounded the alarm in camp. “Load up, load up now,” he said firmly to the group while he tried not to alarm any camper’s close by. “Move people, Girard’s here in two minutes. Pack whatever you can. Let’s go. We move or die, it’s real simple.”
People hustled around camp. They threw loose items into the back of the van in a pile.
“Mr. McC, head toward Vedauwoo. I’ll catch up to you in ten minutes,” said Bastian. He, Rani, Troian, and Ledger jumped in the SUV. The group fled out of the camp.
“Bastian, what are we doing?” said Rani.
“I’ve got an idea. Ledger, write the number down from the last SAT phone call,” said Bastian.
Mr. McCrady calmly pulled out of the park, trying not to arouse suspicion. He spotted military vehicles exiting the ramp on the opposite side of the interstate as he and the rest of the group merged into traffic. Joaquin followed close behind in the van.
Bastian made a hard right out of the camp. A mile down the road, he found several semis at a charge station. He waited for one of the truckers to go inside. Bastian eyed the trucker’s tags. Texas. He climbed up, opened the cab door, then jammed the SAT phone underneath the driver's seat. That should keep Girard busy for a while if I’m lucky. He couldn’t surmise any other way Girard could’ve found him. He jumped back into the SUV and peeled out to join the others.
“Good thinking,” said Ledger.
“Yeah, let’s hope it works,” said Bastian.
Fifteen minutes later, Bastian caught up with the rest of the group. He passed by the van first, noticing Amir had fastened the ministry sign on the side. He waved to Mr. McCrady and pulled in front of the R.V. to take the lead.
“Call McC, tell him we’re gonna switch things up. Take Highway 20 to Fort Dodge. That’s where we’ll camp tonight. Should be there by 9:30 p.m. I want to stay off the main interstates.”
THE GROUP PULLED into Brushy Creek State Recreation Area a few miles outside of Fort Dodge at 10:30 p.m. Bastian told everyone to sleep snug tonight without setting up a bunch of tents in case they had to leave fast.
Amir came into the R.V. and pulled up the late news at 11:00 p.m. Those inside huddled around the
computer.
“Turn it up,” said Bastian.
“Good evening, I’m Erica Vale. People lined up today in droves to get the Red Fang vaccine across the nation. The military guard set up stations in all major and some smaller cities to streamline the process. Major General Girard Given is being hailed a hero for organizing the rapid deployment of troops to combat this deadly virus. The General joins us now via satellite. Hello, General Given.”
“Hello, Erica.”
“General Given, the nation owes you much gratitude.”
“What can I say, Erica. I have a duty to protect at home and abroad. However this evil bug arrived on our soil, my troops, and I vow to do all we can to help destroy Red Fang before it destroys us. It pains me to say the talented doctor that created this vaccine, Dr. Harold Ballentine, has died. My thoughts and prayers go out to his family tonight,” said General Given, staring directly into the camera lens.
Bastian felt Girard’s eyes pierce his soul.
“How did the doctor pass, General Given?”
“An infected monkey broke free yesterday, then proceeded to attack Dr. Ballentine. The animal sliced a hole through his protective gear and infected him. He died hours later, but not to worry, we have the vaccine. Dr. Ballentine will receive credit in the history books for saving humanity, no doubt about that. In the meantime, we are actively searching for his son, Bastian Ballentine, and two of his friends.
“First, we need to tell the young man about this tragic loss, unless he’s watching now, and if so, my condolences. Secondly, we want to evaluate him and his friends to find out if they are carriers of this deadly disease. This came to our attention after several people died post-contact with him and two of his friends in multiple cities. All three of these individuals are from Breckenridge, Colorado, where the virus originated. We also want to question these young people about the murder of six American soldiers. We aren’t accusing them, at this point, simply seeking answers.”
“A carrier?” said the news anchor.
“Yes, Erica. We mean the young man, nor his friends, no ill will, we simply need to confirm they’re not carriers. The group of teens failed to get vaccinated while we were present in their town. It is hard to keep track of an entire town when given instant notice. These boys left town for a camping trip a few hours before we arrived. It’s pure speculation that they’re carriers, and we haven’t 100 percent confirmed how these other individuals died yet. Autopsies are pending, but these boys must be cleared. If their tests are clean, we’ll vaccinate them, and send them on their way. Bastian Ballentine, if you or your friends read this message, son, please call me at the number below. Further, if anyone sees these individuals, please call,” said Major General Given.
