Primal Shift: Volume 2 (A Post Apocalyptic Thriller) Page 9

  Finn was stunned. Pressed with the more immediate needs for survival on a daily basis, nuclear power plants spewing out deadly radiation hadn’t been on his radar at all. Hell, it hadn’t been on anyone’s radar.

  “I just sent a Humvee with two of my men up that way on a reconnaissance mission, and they haven’t reported back in more than 24 hours. How familiar are you folks with the threat level in that area?”

  Finn felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If Zhou’s men hadn’t reported back yet, that meant they’d probably crossed paths with Alvarez.

  Dana

  “What are you doing?”

  Dana turned, startled. It was her father, Richard, standing in the doorway. They were in the room Dana used as a coroner’s office. Nurse Kim was helping her lay some clothes on the examining table.

  “Give us a moment would you, Kim?” Dana asked.

  Kim nodded and left.

  The room itself wasn’t much more than a cubby hole in the compound basement, but it was one that had seen quite a bit of usage. This was where Larry said he’d seen Lou’s wife, Patty Mae, tied to a chair, being brainwashed. When Dana first found the body, it appeared to be a drowning, although the woman’s lungs didn’t have water in them. Larry had professed his innocence, and at the time she’d believed him. But after hearing Romeo’s side of things, that perhaps Larry had been the one behind the brainwashing, well, she realized then that the investigation was going to be reopened.

  Dana nudged the box containing the things found on Patty Mae’s body.

  “Lou’s wife didn’t accidently drown in the river,” she said and paused. “Anyway, it’s complicated.”

  “I’ll bet it is. I’ve been talking to some of the fellas, and most of ‘em aren’t too happy with Larry declaring himself king.”

  “He’s done a lot for this place, Dad. I’m scared to think what might have happened if All Father hadn’t passed away.”

  Richard laughed sardonically. “I remember where Larry was when we were attacked by Jeffereys and his slavers. He was trying to hand them All Father to save his own skin. Don’t think I didn’t see it clear as day.”

  “Keep your voice down.”

  But this only made her father grow louder. “Keep my voice down? Is this where we’re heading, Dana, Nazi Germany? Watch what you say, or the Gestapo’s gonna knock down your door?.”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying. Larry’s done a lot to keep us safe, and I wouldn’t’ want anyone to think I was talking behind his back.”

  “The only person I know who prevented Rainbowland or whatever the hell they’re calling it these days from being burned to the ground was you, Dana.”

  “Oh, come on, Dad.”

  “No, I’m dead serious. You shot those bastards and stopped ‘em from killing us all.”

  “I did what anyone else woulda done.”

  “Anyone but Larry,” he shot back.

  Maybe he had a point. Dana couldn’t deny those thoughts hadn’t crossed her mind. But did it matter if Larry did some underhanded things? Where would they be without him? More importantly, how many of these people were willing to make the cold, calculated decisions necessary to ensure the continued safety of the group?

  “There’s no need for New Jamestown to be a totalitarian regime led by a man who’s shown he’s only interested in saving his own skin. We haven’t seen any new survivors show up for over a month. Besides, with less than 200 people living here, we could vote on important policies and projects, just like the Greeks did in the Agora thousands of years ago.”

  Great, now he was quoting the Discovery Channel. “Listen, Dad, I’ve got a lot of work to do.” Dana paused. “Hey, shouldn’t you be on work detail?”

  “My back hurts.”

  The alarm on her face was immediate. “You heard Larry, you know what happens to those who don’t carry their load. Do you wanna be banished?”

  “I’m too old to be worked into the ground. If anyone asks, I’ll say I was helping you.”

  He was walking a fine line that could get them both in trouble, but he could be such a stubborn bastard sometimes, her mother used to say he could argue with a wall and win.

  “What are we looking for?” he asked, glancing over her shoulder.

  “I’m not sure,” she said, “But I’m hoping I’ll know it when I see it.”

  She removed all that remained of Patty’s Mae’s possessions: A pair of white Reebok sneakers; jeans that were nearly shredded; a black T-shirt; three dollars in quarters; and the straightjacket they found by the river. “This is everything.”

  Her father looked down at the items. “Not much to go on.”

  “Besides a few superficial wounds, there wasn’t anything I could see that woulda led to a cause of death.”

  “Given that neither of us are trained medical examiners,” he said, picking up her black T-shirt and examining it, “I don’t have much faith we’ll find a whole lot.”

  “Hard to imagine anyone being able to throw a screaming, struggling woman into the river without being noticed.” That’s when Dana saw her father’s nose tweak. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know.” He held the shirt a few inches from his face. “I smell almonds.”

  “What?” She took Patty Mae’s shirt and smelled it. “You’re right.”

  And then suddenly, it clicked. Only one thing smelled like almonds and had the power to kill. Cyanide.

  The odor of which only 50 percent of the population was able to detect.

  She told her father, and almost at once he grabbed the shirt from his daughter’s hands and tossed it back into the box as though it were covered with smallpox.

  “Maybe we should leave this alone,” he told her.

  “Five minutes ago you were cursing Larry out, and now you’re saying we should ignore a murder.”

  Richard grew quiet. Then: “Who here would have access to cyanide?”

  “I’m not sure, but I need to talk to Timothy. He was All Father’s number two. If anyone knows, it’ll be him.”

  Larry

  Walking among the workers, Larry could see the wall at the back of the compound was coming along nicely. Newly felled logs were being dragged toward the workspace by an old tractor they’d found in a nearby farm. A handful of cult members and citizens armed with rifles were spread out among the workers, keeping an eye out for Wipers. It wouldn’t be long now before the entire enclosure was completely sealed and the few remaining guard towers were erected. A carpenter from South Dakota named Ralph Muir was the project foreman and the man tasked with ensuring Larry’s vision for New Jamestown’s defenses took shape. Once the wall was complete, the outer defenses would begin. A dry moat filled with sharpened stakes, the ground around the compound littered with mantraps. The trick, Larry had learned, wasn’t to make the colony impregnable. It was to direct your enemy into predetermined kill zones. What looked like a way in, would only lead to death. A smaller gate at the back wall along with a dirt bridge over the moat would do just fine. Encouraging the Wipers to bunch up along a narrow causeway before filling them with lead.

  Ralph was studying a plan laid out on a table. The sky overhead was filling with rainclouds, the wind picking up, and Ralph had to place rocks on each corner so the sheet wouldn’t fly away.

  “When will my wall be finished?” Larry asked impatiently, eyeing a worker sitting down and drinking a ladle of water, beads of sweat rolling down his face.

  “I’ll need at least a week.”

  “A week? I need this done in the next couple of days. We still haven’t begun the outer defenses.”

  “Yes, I know.” Ralph was speaking softly, but Larry could hear the man’s temper beginning to rise. “They don’t have enough energy, Larry, not without food.”

  “I’m working on that. I can’t start planting crops till this wall is done, you get me? I plant it out there, and Wipers’ll come in the night and snatch it.”

  “Yeah, I get you. But I’ve already got
nearly 20 percent of my labor force on bed rest, suffering from exhaustion. It might help to inspire them if you ... ” Ralph stopped short.

  “What?” Larry asked. “What would inspire them? Music? Is that what you were going to say, ‘cause I can get some old speakers set up and send a scavenging party to find a stereo – ”

  “No, not music.” Ralph was fixing one of the rocks back in place. “It might inspire the workers to dig down deep if you were out here working alongside them.”

  “Oh,” Larry said. “That’s a great idea, but my administrative duties are far too demanding. I just don’t have the time.”

  Ralph nodded, like he knew Larry would have his reasons. Men like Larry weren’t put on this Earth to toil around in the mud, and Ralph should know better than to even put him on the spot like that. “You have two days,” he told his foreman. “See that it gets done.”

  Larry was about to head back to his office for a mojito and a bite to eat when he saw Timothy coming his way. The old codger didn’t look happy.

  This is all I need right now.

  Larry put on his best PR smile.

  “We need to talk,” Timothy said.

  “I know what you’re going to say.”

  “Damn right you know. You broke your word, Larry. You said you’d step down when the colony was safe, and you lied.”

  “Is the colony safe yet, Timothy? I don’t think so. The wall isn’t finished. The rest of the guard towers need to be erected – ”

  Timothy’s eyes dazzled with anger. “Don’t play stupid with me, you know perfectly well what I’m talking about. All Father left me in charge, not you. You had a vision to get us back on track, and I let you realize that vision, but you’ve gone too far. Declaring yourself king, Larry. For God’s sake, what the hell were you thinking?”

  Larry cleared his throat and glanced around him. Ralph along with a handful of workers had stopped to stare. “Don’t think for a second, Timothy, that I don’t know why you put me in charge. I’m the kinda guy who gets things done. You’re the kinda guy who leads from behind. I think you’re really pissed off because deep down you know you need me, but I don’t need you.”

  “In this new world, Larry, if a man doesn’t have his word, what does he have?”

  “I’m keeping people alive, that’s what I’m doing.”

  Timothy was already walking away. “Are you Larry? Are you really, ‘cause what I see is a bunch of people who are starving to death.”

  Larry watched his old ally storm off, a violent tangle of emotions boiling within him. The lack of security had been the key that had allowed Larry to wrest control of Rainbowland out from All Father’s fingers, and now it seemed as though the lack of food might be what tore it from his own grasp. This was a serious problem. One he needed to fix soon ‘cause if Timothy got his way, then Larry’s days of living on easy street would soon be over.

  Carole

  Without a watch, Carole couldn’t tell for sure how long Russell and Callahan had been gone. She only knew it was starting to feel like an eternity. They’d left to sneak out and find a car. A risky maneuver during the day, no doubt, but speeding through darkened streets at night with Wipers on your tail was far riskier. Those very thoughts were swirling through Carole’s weary mind when she spotted Holly’s 12-year-old daughter, Tamara, coming toward her with a face the color of starched linen. Even though she was at least four years younger than Nikki, Carole couldn’t help but feel protective of the girl.

  “What is it, Honey?” she asked.

  “There’s a man in the vent.”

  Carole’s senses fired all at once. “A man in the – ?”

  “Yes, I can hear him moving inside.”

  Carole snapped her fingers to get Holly’s attention. “We have to leave, right away.” She looked down at Tamara, whose eyes were starting to swell with frightened tears. “We’re gonna be fine, Honey. You stay with your mother and help her get everything ready.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “I’m just going to take a quick look is all, I’ll be right back.” Carole and Holly shared a furtive look, and the fear that passed between the two women was palpable. “I’ll be right back.”

  The noises coming from the vents Tamara had mentioned could only mean one thing. The Wipers had found the loose grate in the hotel’s lobby and were coming in after them. The smart thing to do was leave the boiler room altogether and head topside, except Carole had to make sure the folding ladder leading up to the vent wasn’t there or the Wipers would be on them in a flash. The 20-foot drop from the hole in the vent might not kill them, but it sure as hell would break their legs.

  Carole was turning the corner, walking on the balls of her feet to remain as silent as possible when a jolt of terror shot through every nerve ending in her body. A Wiper was climbing out of the vent, his feet perched on the top of the ladder. She could hear others behind him.

  The choice was suddenly clear, turn and run or fight. The urge to run was almost blinding. An impulse that in her old life, as the wife and home maker, she might have given in to, but to run here and now meant the certain death of everyone in the boiler room. The Wiper’s legs were on the second rung and struggling to find the third when she charged. She drew on the same inner strength she’d used to battle the Mohawked woman in the pits, growling like a wild animal. The Wiper on the ladder, head shaved except for a long pony tail of fire-red hair, had just enough time to utter what was probably a curse in mangled English before Carole slammed into the folding ladder, sending it toppling over. The Wiper landed with a crunch and howls of pain as he reached out with both hands to break his fall. Another Wiper stuck his head through the vent’s opening and shrieked maniacally. That’s when Carole took off running. It was only a matter of seconds before they’d find a way to get down.

  She reached the others, and the look of panic on their faces was unmistakable. They’d heard the commotion and the screams and knew they would need to run for their lives.

  “Everyone get top side,” Carole shouted. They were little more than a group of women and children without a single firearm between them. Holly pulled the cable to raise the steel plate, and the children rushed through the hole. The last one to pass was Carole, and she caught the distinct sound of at least two Wipers jumping down to more screams of pain. Soon, the others would use the wounded to cushion their fall, and then there’d be no stopping them. Sliding through the hole, Carole pulled the cable and watched the metal plate fall into place with a loud clang, all the time wondering how long it would take them to figure out how to get it opened. The only other barrier was the one leading into the 7-Eleven, and Carole had to assume that location had already been compromised. That meant the safest way out was through the lingerie store’s stockroom. She could only hope for all their sakes that Russell and Callahan would have the trucks ready.

  Finn

  “The records you’re looking for are probably in the warden’s office,” Zhou said. “But you shouldn’t be snooping around on your own without an armed escort.” He pointed to a broad-shouldered black sailor standing next to him, an M-4 slung over his shoulder. “This is Foster, sonar operator extraordinaire and one of the worst Texas Hold'Em players in the fleet.”

  Foster cracked a toothy smile. “Still managed to bleed you once or twice, Sir.”

  “Hey, everyone gets lucky.”

  Finn was still stuck on something Zhou had said moments ago. “Armed escort. I thought you had this place locked down tight?”

  “We do,” Zhou told him. “Most of it, but you shoulda seen the state of things when we arrived. We figure that once the grid went dark and the power shut off for good, most of these cell doors opened automatically. What we saw when we arrived woulda turned your hair white. Thank God most of the damage had already been done. Men eating one another. The smell of dead bodies and human waste. Was like walking into an abandoned zoo where the animals were all mixed together and left to their own devices.”

&
nbsp; Finn wasn’t all that surprised. He’d seen it before countless times. Without food, the Wipers inside had done what their brothers and sisters on the outside had done in order to survive, most of which was enough to turn the average man’s stomach. He also empathized with the Commander’s aims: to re-establish contact with what was left of the government. ‘Course, Finn didn’t have the heart to tell Zhou he was probably chasing a lost cause, that most of the people who made up the government were either dead or running through the streets, killing one another. Finn also hadn’t come right out and told him they were once prisoners. He liked Zhou well enough, but didn’t see the logic in tempting the commander with the idea of throwing them back behind bars.

  “But some of the Wipers must have escaped because three of my men have gone missing, and all that was left were pools of blood. Musta searched this entire place, top to bottom, half a dozen times. Just keep an eye out. And if you see a piece of cheese on the ground, don’t pick it up. It’s probably a trap.” Zhou was smiling, but Finn could see Joanne didn’t share the commander’s macabre sense of humor.

  Finn and Joanne, along with their escort, Foster, left at once.

  The warden’s office was on the top floor of the prison, and that meant going through cell blocks D to A, in that order. But first, it meant going through the showers.

  “I don’t even wanna tell you what we found in here,” Foster told them, his arms rippling with slabs of muscle. He was swinging his flashlight back and forth, each time illuminating tile walls caked with dark blood.

  “Yes, better that you don’t,” Joanne said, feeling her gag reflex kick in.

  “We already took the bodies out and burnt those. But you folks are better off plugging your noses.”

  Finn had no interest in taking in the gore. His light was aimed squarely ahead. Before they’d left, he’d duct taped the flashlight Zhou had given him to the barrel of his rifle. That way, he could keep both hands on his weapon at all times.