The Long Road: Book 6 of the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (Surviving the Fall Series - Book 6) Read online

  “They kidnapped her?” Sarah’s face was a mask of horror and Dianne motioned for her to quiet down.

  “That’s what it sounded like. I think the group was trying to get to a safe or some other valuables in the house but they couldn’t find anything.”

  “What about Dave? Did they mention him?”

  Dianne shook her head slowly. “Nothing. They didn’t stay at the house long, though. We were lucky to miss them when they arrived.”

  “I don’t mean to speak out of turn here, Dianne.” Jason shifted back and forth on his feet as he spoke. “But I think the biggest issue right now is making sure that the house and everyone in it is kept safe from these people. Especially… well. You know.” Jason was watching Mark and Jacob carry suitcases into the house. “Once we’re certain everything here is secure then we can try to find these people.”

  “Agreed. I’m not sure how these people don’t know where we are already, though. We’ve burned enough fires and gone out a few times. You’d think we would have run into them by now.” Dianne snorted. “Though I’ve run into two of them before.”

  “You have?” Jason raised an eyebrow and Dianne nodded.

  “Mhm. Back when all this started I went to the grocery store to get some staples. They were trying to break into the truck when I got back. I ran them off and figured that was the last I had seen of them. I guess they fell in with this group.”

  “Whoever they are there’s more than just the ones we saw.” Jason scratched his head. “I wonder where they’re holing up. We went through quite a few back roads out to the east when we were driving in. That sort of makes me think they’re somewhere out between Ellisville and Blacksburg. Unless you’ve been out that far recently, that is.”

  “Nope.” Dianne shook her head. “We’ve mostly kept to ourselves here. We were going to head out but the roads were blocked enough that I didn’t want to risk it.”

  “What are you two going on about?” Sarah interjected herself back into the conversation. “Tina’s being held by a group of vagabonds, Dave’s missing and you two are talking about blocked roads and Blacksburg?”

  “Sarah, we have to figure out what to do here.”

  “Damn right you do, Jason! You need to figure out how to get Tina out and see if you can find Dave, too!”

  Dianne cocked her head. “That’s… exactly what we’re doing. First we have to figure out where they’re holed up, though. They have to have a base close by if they’re driving around on what I assume is a regular basis.”

  “Oh.” Sarah nodded. “Good. That’s… good. Sorry.”

  Dianne smiled and chuckled. “Did you think we wouldn’t go after one of our friends?”

  “Well. I mean, you were talking about securing the house and then looking for the people and I figured you were just talking about avoiding them or something.” Sarah threw her hands up in the air and gave an exasperated sigh. “Sorry. Ignore me. Carry on.”

  Jason laughed and held out his arms, wrapping them around his wife and giving her a hug. “We’re not going to leave Tina—or Dave, if he’s still out there—in the hands of those people if we can help it.”

  “We do need to finish securing everything here. Then I think we can go out scouting for them.” Dianne looked at Jason. “Agreed?”

  He gave a definitive nod. “Agreed.”

  Chapter 3

  Mount Weather, Virginia

  The Vice President of the United States is exhausted. He’s been up for over thirty hours straight talking to politicians, military leaders and a variety of civilians who’ve flown in from across the country.

  The politicians were the first to be dismissed by the Vice President. Relegated to a lower floor in the Mount Weather complex their initial cries of unity quickly dissolve into partisan bickering. Arguments fly back and forth over which bill was responsible for the creation of Damocles, whose districts have been worst hit, how long the recovery efforts will take and what the disaster will do to their poll numbers.

  The military leaders have been both less and more helpful than he expected. They have continually approached him with solutions to a variety of problems facing the country, though many of them rely on overwhelming firepower instead than finesse. The threat of Damocles is global and the military fears that foreign countries will soon target the United States with any functional weaponry as a retaliation for developing Damocles and allowing it to escape out into the wild.

  The civilians, whom the Vice President initially thought would be helpful, have failed to come up with any solutions that are workable. Each of their plans has failed in the conceptual or practical phases and resulted in yet another device becoming infected or more wasted hours attacking Damocles in a way in which it can’t be affected.

  With no solutions to the problem on the horizon the Vice President retreats to the Presidential Suite, located in a far corner of the bunker. He sits down on the edge of the bed and loosens his necktie, takes off his jacket and flops down on the bed.

  He closes his eyes, wishing for the thousandth time since he last slept that the President would show up somewhere. If the President is, indeed, alive then there has been no communication to Mount Weather of that fact. The personnel in the complex have deferred to the Vice President for all decisions given that he is the ranking member of government. Despite the pressure from both political parties he refuses to officially assume the Presidency until another day or two passes.

  “Sir! Sir, wake up!”

  The Vice President opens his eyes and groans. He realizes that he fell asleep some time ago, though he doesn’t know how long he’s been out. As his eyes focus on the figures standing around the bed he realizes that they are comprised of military personnel and staff from the bunker.

  “What? What’s going on?” He runs his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he tries to rid it of the awful taste inside.

  “Something’s wrong with the bunker, sir. We need you to come with us right now.”

  The Vice President sits up on the bed and processes the statement for a few seconds before replying. “What’s going on with the bunker? Be specific.”

  Someone high up in the Navy steps forward into the Vice President’s line of sight. “Sir, we believe that one of the civilians was trying an experiment on a Damocles-infected system. The infection jumped from the infected device to the bunker’s network.”

  The fog that had settled over the Vice President’s brain immediately lifts. “They did what? What’s that mean for us?”

  “Technicians are already at work isolating the infected equipment but it may be too late.”

  “Too late?”

  The lights flicker as the Vice President speaks. A few seconds later they go out and the suite is plunged into darkness. The military brass remain calm though a few staffers at the edges of the room make muffled groans and cries as they feel around, trying to keep from being overwhelmed by the claustrophobic nightmare they have been plunged into.

  “Who’s got a light?” Someone calls out.

  “Here, I have a penlight.” Another answers.

  A few moments later, after half a dozen flashlights have been pulled from the pockets of the most prepared, the Vice President leads the group out of the suite and down the hall to the main command room of the bunker. When he arrives, though, he wonders if he made a wrong turn somewhere along the way.

  “Hello?” The Vice President shouts into the dark room, its cavernous volume too large for the penlights to pierce its depths. A chorus of replies follow and a few small flashlights slowly emerge as clusters of people group up together. “Do we not have any emergency lights?”

  “Flint said she was going to start the backup generator.” The reply comes from somewhere else in the room. “It should be on any minute.”

  The minutes tick by slowly until the distant sound of a throaty diesel engine comes to life. The lights flicker to life a moment later, revealing the throngs of people who have gathered together in the room. As their voices
surge the Vice President raises his hands and shouts above the din.

  “Everyone, quiet down! We don’t know what happened yet but with the generators on we’ll be just fine. I need everyone to return to your assigned rooms or jobs while we sort this out. I’ll have a further announcement on the situation shortly. Thank you!” Though the Vice President’s short statement sounds hopeful, half an hour later he finds himself facing a dearth of hope.

  “Damocles is in the entirety of the systems here? Everything?” He closes his eyes and sighs.

  “I’m afraid so, sir.” A man with a scruffy beard, glasses and a stained dress shirt sits in front of the Vice President. “The only reason the backup generator is working is because it’s old enough to not have computer controls on it. Our HVAC system is offline, the reactor automatically shut down—thank goodness—and we have zero comms or computer systems online.”

  “Can we open the bunker doors at least?”

  “We can do that, yes.”

  “What about water?”

  “The pumps were all computer-controlled. There is a backup pump but it’s tied to the backup generator and the capacity is minimal. We’ll have drinking water but that’s about it.”

  “Well.” The Vice President shakes his head, overwhelmed by frustration and helplessness. “So much for the think tank.”

  Chapter 4

  Cheyenne Mountain Complex

  Outside Colorado Springs, CO

  Rick couldn’t sleep.

  According to the simple wall clock in his room, it had been hours since he had been deep underground and placed into a room the size of a large walk-in closet. The door had been locked from the outside when the MPs left and try as he might Rick hadn’t been able to get it to budge.

  He passed the hours through a variety of monotonous activities. First on the list had been looking for any alternate ways out. The only one he was able to find was an air vent that a small child would have had difficulties crawling through.

  With no way to get out Rick turned his attention to going through his bag that the MPs dropped off shortly after delivering him to his room. There were some changes of clothing, a couple of MREs, a flashlight and a few empty shell casings but the majority of what he had stored in the Humvee had been thrown out or confiscated. Rick was grateful for the extra changes of clothes that someone had kindly stuffed into the bag and he almost felt bad for how good he felt over having a hot shower for the first time in weeks.

  Once he was clean and changed Rick felt drowsy but no matter how hard he tried to go to sleep he just wasn’t able to do so. The bed was hard, the pillow thin and the sheets on the narrow bed were coarse but Rick had slept in so many uncomfortable positions and locations lately that those things didn’t bother him in the slightest.

  With sleep eluding him and the reasoning behind it a mystery as well, Rick got up and did the only thing left to him: pacing. Back and forth he went, taking a few steps forward before stopping, turning around and pacing back the other way.

  Rick had been pacing for close to an hour when some noises from the hallway attracted his attention. The window to his room was small but there was a thick mesh screen just beneath it that enabled him to hear the approach of anyone outside. After the MPs deposited him and his bag in the room he hadn’t heard anything else—until a person shouted.

  “Get your hands off me!” The voice was a woman’s, full of indignation and a level of irritation that made Rick smile.

  Jeez, he thought, I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that. Rick strained at the window, looking down both sides of the hall until he finally caught a glimpse of the source of the ongoing noise. A woman with shoulder-length brown hair and wearing jeans and a T-shirt was standing with her back to his room. Two MPs—not those who had brought him to his cell—were in front of her. A thin man who was balding in the back stood next to the woman, though based on his body language he was trying to blend in with the background more than he was trying to engage in the argument.

  “Miss.” The word came from one of the MPs and Rick swore he could feel the woman tensing up. “We can’t let you in to see him.”

  “What part of your commanding officer said we could don’t you understand?”

  “Ma’am,” said the other MP, “we’d need to speak with him directly before—”

  “How about a letter from him, signed and dated today?” the woman reached into her back pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. She unfolded it and held it up in front of the MPs. The one who had spoken first took the paper and held it, examining it closely before letting out a deflated sigh.

  “I guess… this is signed by the general. So I guess you can see him.”

  “And he’s to be let out.”

  The MP shook his head. “He’s to be released to the personal recognizance of Dr. Evans.” The MP looked at the thin man standing next to the woman. “You’re okay with this, Dr. Evans?”

  “Oh yes.” The man nodded vigorously. “Quite.”

  The first MP passed the paper to the second and shrugged. “Everything checks out, then. He’s at the end of the hall. Just keep an eye on him, the both of you. If anything happens the general’s going to have our asses for dinner and yours for dessert.”

  The MPs turned around and walked off, leaving the woman and the thin man standing in the hall next to each other. They held a brief whispered conversation before turning to look in the direction of Rick’s room. Rick didn’t recognize the man heading towards him but the face of the woman was extremely familiar. It took Rick a few seconds to place it but once he did his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock.

  “Jane?!”

  After not having seen Rick for well over a week, Jane grinned wildly at the sight of his face through the small window. She ran to the door and threw open the bolt holding it shut. Rick tugged the door open and stood in shock as he looked Jane over from head to toe. “Are you…” Rick shook his head, wondering if he was dreaming.

  “Rick! I can’t believe you made it out here!” Jane ran into the room and embraced him. Rick returned her embrace before holding her at arm’s length to look her over again. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Me too! When they put me on that plane heading east I figured that you were being shipped out to Mount Weather. So much for that, huh? How on earth did you make it out here, anyway?” She grinned as she asked the question before shaking her head. “No, don’t tell me right now. That’s bound to be a story for later.”

  Behind her the thin man pushed up his glasses and smiled at the reunion. “So this is the famous ‘Rick,’ eh?”

  Rick held out his hand and nodded. “I had no idea I was famous, but I suppose so. Rick Waters.”

  “Dr. Michael Evans.” Dr. Evans gave Rick a firm handshake and looked over at Jane who was still grinning from ear to ear as she looked at Rick. “This young lady told me you got her through the hellhole that is Las Vegas. That’s impressive.”

  Rick shrugged and looked down at his feet, unsure what to say in the face of the praise. “Nothing much to it. Just doing what needed to be done.”

  “Bullshit.” Jane cut in, grinning again. “Rick singlehandedly saved us more times than I care to remember. He took care of me when I got overheated and he didn’t leave me behind even when I slowed him down to a crawl.

  Dr. Evans nodded, glanced behind him and took a step forward, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Rumor through the grapevine is that you were supposed to go to Mount Weather. Part of that think tank they put together.”

  “That’s what they told me at Nellis, yes.”

  “And you declined?”

  “Yep.”

  Dr. Evans nodded again. “Good.”

  “Why is that good?”

  Dr. Evans looked out into the hall again as though he expected someone to be listening. “Partly because there are rumors about something bad happening at Mount Weather. Nobody really knows what, though. And partly because if you know enough to be taken
to Mount Weather then you’ll be the first person here who knows enough to not only believe me but help me stop this madness.” Dr. Evans glanced at Jane apologetically. “No offense intended. I meant only that Rick probably has the skills necessary to help unravel the technic—”

  Jane shook her head and smiled at Dr. Evans’ awkward stammering. “None taken.”

  Rick shifted on his feet and gave Dr. Evans a quizzical look. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Is it Damocles?”

  Dr. Evans held a finger to his lips and shook his head, whispering again. “Not now. Tonight, after dinner. There’s a community room in the building just down the hall. No one ever uses it after dinner, though. We’ll meet there, the three of us, and Jane and I will tell you everything.”

  Rick looked at Jane. “What are you guys talking about?”

  Jane smiled at him again and patted his arm. “You’ll see. We’ve got a lot to figure out.”

  Chapter 5

  The Water’s Homestead

  Outside Ellisville, VA

  Dianne waited until after dinner when Jacob and Josie were busy cleaning up the dishes to tell Mark about the conversation she had with Jason and Sarah. His response was relatively muted though he asked a few questions here and there as Dianne explained things. When Dianne told him that she and Jason would most likely be going out to search for the group—which she had started calling ‘the gang’—Mark grew antsy.

  “I want to come with you and help.”

  Dianne smiled at the response and reached across the dining room table to hold his hand. “I know you do, kiddo. I need someone here to help watch the house and keep your brother and sister safe.”

  “Let Mr. Statler stay here. He and Mrs. Statler can watch the place, right?”

  “Of course they could. But I want you here.” A muffled thump and a pair of voices arguing upstairs made her smile. “Besides if we leave the two of them here they’ll be arguing too much to pay attention to anyone approaching.”