To Steal a March: Book 11 of the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (Surviving the Fall Series - Book 11) Read online

  “This flight of stairs is shorter than the others.”

  “Exactly right!” Dr. Evans beamed at her. “Notice also that the roof seems shorter. It’s because the floor is thicker.”

  “For insulation and isolation!” The two technicians spoke in unison, then Jacob continued. “So you were right. There’s another floor below us.”

  “More than one. We need to find the entrance, though. It’ll be disguised, locked and heavily armored. I don’t know how we’ll break through.”

  Oles grinned and tapped the shoulder strap of his backpack. “Leave that to us.”

  ***

  While the rooftop watch session had been stress-free, Rick could feel tensions rising as he and Ostap slowly descended the stairs to see what the search team had uncovered. He couldn’t pinpoint the source of the tension, but when he glanced over at the Russian officer he could see that Ostap’s body movements had become more rigid and deliberate, eschewing the casualness from before. Something was going on. He didn’t know what, but Jane’s words once again rang in his ears.

  “Rick!” Jane’s voice carried down the dark hallway as he and Ostap came to the bottom of the stairs. She jogged down toward him and put her hands on her hips as she addressed the two men. “We found the door leading down into the lower levels. Ostap, I have to say, your techs are some talented guys. The equipment they’re using to break the electronic lock is—”

  “Not supposed to be seen by those who aren’t authorized to do so.” Ostap interjected, his voice cold and hard. Realizing at the last second what he sounded like, he forced himself to relax and put on a smile. “Still. At the end of the world, what’s a bit of covert tech between friends? Come on, let’s go see the progress they’ve made.”

  As Ostap led the way down the hall, Jane hung back and leaned in close to Rick, whispering to him as they walked. “What’s with him?”

  “I don’t know. He’s been acting odd.”

  “You think I’m right about him?”

  “Maybe. I hope not. What about Carl and those technicians?”

  “The technicians look like they want to marry Dr. Evans; pretty sure they’re harmless. Carl’s been fine. Helpful, quiet, nothing but professional. Maybe he’s not in on it with Ostap.”

  “Don’t count on it.” Rick shook his head. “Keep your pistol close by and don’t hesitate to use it.”

  “Gentlemen,” Ostap announced as he walked up to the two technicians, “please report on your progress. And spare no details.”

  Oles and Jacob glanced at each other before Jacob cleared his throat. “There’s emergency power still running through the security systems on the door. We’re wired in and the decryption software’s running. We’re close to finishing on it.”

  “Rick!” Dr. Evans looked up at the arrival of the last two members of the group, beckoning him over. “You have to see this!”

  Rick walked over to the normal-looking door with a metal touchpad mounted to the wall. The touchpad had been cracked open and a cable ran from it down to a small laptop on the floor. Oles sat back down in front of the computer and Rick knelt down to peer over the technician’s shoulder.

  “I didn’t realize you all were this advanced. Are you brute forcing the system?”

  “No, actually, we… uh…” Oles glanced at Ostap, who nodded. “We’re exploiting a weakness inherent to this particular type of security system.”

  One of Rick’s eyebrows shot up. “A zero-day?”

  “More or less.”

  “Pretty interesting how you guys manage to have your hands on something like that for a NSA/CIA system.”

  “Like your government,” Ostap interjected, “ours engages in espionage as well.”

  “Relax, Ostap. I’m not judging. I’m actually glad for it. Without you guys we’d be stuck trying to figure out how to break through the door.”

  “Wouldn’t be possible.” Dr. Evans shook his head firmly. “We’d need a bulldozer to break it down.”

  “Fortunately, Dr. Evans,” Jacob exclaimed with a grin, “that won’t be necessary.” He stood up, made a wide flourish at the door and pressed a button on his computer. “We’re in.”

  Chapter 4

  ISS, International Space Station

  “We don’t need that much food.”

  “What if we land in an isolated area? If we’re off by a degree or two on the return trajectory, we could be stuck somewhere remote for an extended period of time.”

  “Fine.” Commander Palmer sighs and nods as he examines his clipboard. “We’ll store it in the exterior compartment, aft side.”

  “Commander?” Ted floats into the room, a collection of small silver pouches in his hands. “Got all the emergency blankets I could find.”

  “Good. We’ll keep those inside the main compartment. Can you take over this and work with Jackie to finish up? I need to start the landing calculations.” Commander Palmer gently tossed the clipboard through the compartment and Ted snatched it out of the air.

  “Sure thing. We going for water or land?”

  “I’m not sure. Water’s preferable but we won’t have anyone there to pick us up. I don’t really want to be floating in the ocean for the rest of my life.”

  “You and me both.” Jackie replied. “Why not go for land? We’ve got the basic training for it.”

  “A million things could go wrong. But the biggest reason is that.” Commander Palmer gestured out the window at the Earth below. Areas that were supposed to be covered in lush foliage were obscured by smoke, tainting the atmosphere with black clouds of soot. “No way in hell are we going to land in Russia, and if we go somewhere in the USA it’s going to be like throwing a dart at the wall. We might land in an open field or we might veer off course and land in the middle of a fire or smash through a skyscraper.”

  “So water’s our best option.” Ted scratched his chin, hooking his feet into the small loops on the wall to keep from floating away from the window. “I guess I’d rather be floating for a while than risk rolling and breaking bones or landing in the middle of a fire.”

  “If we end up in the middle of the ocean then we won’t be floating for a while. There won’t be any ship traffic down there, and if we can’t call anyone on the radio then…”

  “I know, Jackie.” Commander Palmer runs his fingers through his hair as he stares at the landscape through the window, trying to determine their best course of action. “What if we landed off the coast of Florida, though? Just a mile or two out?”

  “That kind of precision’s going to be difficult with all the cargo we’ll have on board.” Ted glances down at the clipboard. “Plus this is an emergency maneuver. It’s not exactly supposed to be precise.”

  “What if we adjust during the parachute phase with the maneuvering thrusters?” Both Ted and Commander Palmer turn to look at Jackie.

  “Come again?” Commander Palmer blinks a few times, not sure if he heard her correctly.

  “We have full fuel for those and we’ll barely use them in setting up our deorbit trajectory. The main engine will be what we use mostly. Why can’t we use the maneuvering thrusters to guide us closer to land once the parachutes deploy?”

  Commander Palmer glances at Ted, who has an odd look on his face as he slowly nods. “That… could be possible. If you can set up a burn that gets us close to the coastline, the thrusters will give us a few dozen miles more of leeway.”

  “That,” Palmer replies, “is still an incredibly small bullseye. And once we land in the water, what are we supposed to do to get to shore? Swim a couple of miles with the module in tow?”

  “Build some makeshift paddles, stand on the sides and row in?” Jackie shrugs. “What’ve we got to lose?”

  The mention of paddles triggers an old memory in Palmer, of when he and his grandfather used to go fishing. The memory is old and vague and worn out, but one specific detail surges to the forefront of his mind. He looks up at Ted. “Change of plans. Jackie, you’re taking care of the loading
plans solo. Ted, come with me. I’ve got a new job for you while I’m working out the deorbit calculations.”

  “New job?” Ted glances at Jackie has he passes her the clipboard. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, you’ll see.”

  Chapter 5

  The Waters’ Homestead

  Outside Ellisville, VA

  “This is hopeless!” Mark kicked at pieces of one of the broken kitchen chairs in frustration, then sat down in one of the two unbroken ones with a sigh. The last few hours of darkness had been spent combing the house for supplies, but what they found had been less than encouraging. Most of the obvious supplies—food stashed away in cupboards, for instance—had been taken by the intruders. They hadn’t been subtle or gentle in their smash and grab, choosing to rip doors off of hinges and put their boots through anything breakable as they searched the house from top to bottom. The end result was a home that had been ripped apart, its innards torn to shreds in an effort to take anything that looked useful or valuable.

  “It’s not hopeless, Mark.” Tina forced a smile. Behind her, Jason shuffled in from the dining room with a small box of medical supplies.

  “They missed this under the table. I assume it’s from when you all were treating me.”

  Tina rifled through the box before nodding and sighing. “Yeah. Not a whole lot in here but it’s worth keeping just in case.”

  “How’s the basement look?”

  “The plants are all overturned and half the equipment was crushed. I didn’t look at it too closely but I think it’s salvageable. It looks like they completely missed the tunnel, though. The doors weren’t even scratched.”

  Jason shook his head. “How on earth did they manage to do that?”

  “Guys…” Mark spoke again, bothered by Jason and Tina’s calm conversation. “Why are you acting like nothing happened? We only found a couple weeks’ worth of food and water, and we only have a pair of rifles, a bow and a few pistols. How are we going to rescue Mom and the others with just this?”

  Tina knelt down next to Mark and wrapped her arm around him. His breaths were fast and his heart was racing and she sensed that he was growing close to having a breakdown. “Mark. Listen to me.” Her voice was soft and soothing, and Mark put his arms around her, feeling tears pouring unbidden from his eyes. “Your mom, brother, sister and Mrs. Statler are going to be just fine. If these guys wanted any of them dead they would have done it when they broke in. That means they’re going to be fine, you hear me?”

  “How are they going to be fine?” Mark’s voice cracked. “You don’t know that.”

  “Because they’re strong. And because we’re going to find them.”

  “But how?” Mark pulled away and wiped his eyes and nose with his grimy shirt sleeve, smearing dirt across his face. “They took our truck.”

  “We’ve all got two legs,” replied Jason, “so we’ll use them. And with what we did to their little operation at the gas station, I wouldn’t be surprised if they set up shop somewhere else so maybe we won’t have to go quite as far.”

  “Jason,” Tina stood next to him, whispering to try and keep Mark from hearing, “are you sure you can handle walking long distances?”

  “Just don’t ask me to climb any mountains or go up a bunch of stairs. I’ll be fine.” Jason patted at his wound. “My legs are fine, but I just get out of breath easily. I’m good to go, though.”

  “Then let’s go.” Mark stood up suddenly, wiping the last remnants of his tears away. “It’s already been a few hours and we need to go after them while the trail’s still hot.”

  Jason chuckled and patted Mark on the shoulder, nodding in agreement. “You’re right. We should go.”

  “How are you so calm about this, Mr. Statler? I mean, they have my family and your wife. Why are you so calm about it?”

  Jason’s smile slowly faded away and his expression grew serious. “Because I have to be, Mark. Because I have to be.”

  ***

  The gate across the driveway squeaked loudly as Mark tried to shut it, only to find that the chain that had once held it in place was severed into three separate pieces. He draped the longest piece around the gate and the post and wrapped it around itself, trying to keep it closed. Out in front, Tina and Jason continued toward the main road, both of them with packs on their backs and rifles held tightly in their hands.

  Dawn was breaking off to the east, but the shadows of the trees on the driveway and the country road beyond were still long, precipitating the need to use a flashlight to avoid tripping on any loose stones or sticks in the road. Mark quickly took the lead, walking impatiently ahead as he scanned the ground with the light, calling out any obstacles along the way. They took a right out of the gate, heading toward town based on nothing more than intuition. There were deep gouges in the road from the melting snow and vehicular travel, but it wasn’t clear which way the exiting vehicles had gone when they left. Mark thought he had seen them heading toward town, but there wasn’t a confirmation of whether or not they were on the right track until they got a hundred feet or so from the end of the driveway.

  “Mr. Statler?” Mark abruptly stopped in the road and slipped his pistol into a holster on his belt before kneeling down, aiming the flashlight just a few inches above the ground.

  “What’s up, Mark?” Jason tried desperately to avoid sounding like he was out of breath so that Tina wouldn’t start worrying about him.

  “Is this what I think it is?” There was a tremor in Mark’s voice as he leaned down to touch the spot in the road, fearful of what confirming the physical nature of what he was seeing could mean.

  Chapter 6

  Washington, D.C.

  When the door to the stairwell leading down into the hidden fourth floor of the building’s basement opened, Rick was prepared for just about anything, including a surprise attack from the Russians, someone emerging from behind the door or anything in between. He was not, however, prepared for the smell.

  A pungent odor rushed out of the room, washing over the group like a wave at a beach. It enveloped them, covering them from head to toe with the distinct smell of death. One body would have smelled bad enough, but the intensity of the stench was so nauseating from the outset that Rick instinctively knew that something horrible had happened in the basement.

  Suspicions about the Russians forgotten, he took a step forward, rifle pulled tight to his shoulder. Ostap followed him in lockstep, matching his every movement as he whispered. “Carl, cover our rear.”

  “Da.” The other officer nodded and moved behind Rick and Ostap, following them down two flights of stairs and onto the fourth floor.

  The smell only grew stronger with each step down, and Rick had to pull his shirt up over his face to try and drown it out with the smell of his own sweat. It did little to help, though, and he flinched with each breath, making his inhalations as fast as possible and his exhalations as long as possible. Another door stood at the bottom of the stairs, this one with the same type of locking mechanism as the one up top.

  Ostap called for Jacob and Oles who hurried down the stairs, both of them trying to keep from retching. They quickly connected their equipment to the door and, knowing what was required to open the one up top, had the new door unlocked in a matter of seconds. Ostap waved the technicians back and pulled the door open, motioning for Carl to proceed forward. If the smell in the stairwell was bad, opening the door turned it from bad to unbearable. Rick’s eyes watered and he felt his stomach churning uncontrollably before he vomited, first from the smell, then from the sight.

  No less than six bodies lay on the floor just inside the room. All of them had been leaning up against the sealed door and they fell into the stairwell. They hadn’t been sitting in the sealed environment for nearly long enough to desiccate, and as such when they hit the ground it was with a sickening splat. Rancid flesh split open, coating the inside of their clothing with gore and increasing the smell even more.

  “Holy…” Rick trie
d to speak but vomited again. Ostap took a few steps back, his face twisted up as he tried to keep from following Rick’s example. Carl, Jacob and Oles all backed halfway up the stairs, and all of the Russians scrambled with their gear, pulling out filtration masks and slipping them over their faces.

  “Here, quick!” Ostap’s words were faint through his mask as he held out a spare one for Rick. Rick accepted it, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and slipped the mask on. The relief was overwhelming as the smell from the bodies was nearly completely removed by the multi-layer filters in the mask. He took a moment to breathe slow and long, steadying himself before turning back to face the scene of tragedy that lay before them.

  “What… what happened here?” Jacob whispered through his mask.

  “Looks like the place was sealed up, from the inside.” Ostap stepped back up to the door and knelt down next to the bodies. “They couldn’t get out for some reason.”

  “Security, probably. Or Damocles. Either way, they were trapped and couldn’t get out.”

  “What’s going on down there?” Jane’s voice echoed down the stairwell. “That smell is getting really strong!”

  “You have any more of those masks?” Rick looked at Ostap, who nodded and pointed at Carl.

  “Collect the spares from the technicians. Take them up, explain what is happening, and escort them both down.”

  Carl nodded and got to work while Ostap turned back and stepped up next to Rick. “See anything useful on the bodies?”

  “Military IDs on two of them and some paperwork referencing project Damocles.” Rick grimaced as he turned over a pair of suspiciously damp wallets before dropping them and rubbing his hands on his pants. “I think we’re in the right place.”

  ***

  After Carl, Ostap and Rick moved the corpses aside, the group ventured beyond the second security door and into a floor of the building that was remarkably similar to the ones above. Unlike those above, however, it had a more sterile, clean feel due to the transparent walls and doors that comprised the majority of the workspaces. Rows of computers, server racks, test benches, desks and conference tables were visible as the seven walked down the hall, their weapons relaxed and their flashlights swinging in every direction.