Armageddon: The Cosmic Battle Of The Ages (17 page)

“‘Course I do.”

“Jes’ a minute. Can’t get in trouble turning on the lights when it’s only just us.” She finished her meal, leav-ing the chocolate shake on the floor while throwing away the trash. Chloe wanted the shake so badly she trembled. Was it possible she could get next to this woman somehow, mother to mother?

Florence went out again and turned on the lights. When she returned and shut the door, it clearly locked behind her, which Chloe had already learned was proto-col. The shake was not going to fit through the mesh of the cage, so if the cage door was going to be open, of course the outer door could not be unlocked. But that also told Chloe that Florence was lying about being there alone. Otherwise, how would she get back out?

“Now if I unlock this cage, which is totally against the rules, you’re not going to pay back my kindness by try-ing something, are you? I’m bigger and stronger than you, but even if you-”

“Yeah, I know. Heard it from Jock. We’re still both locked in.”

“Exactly.”

“So if I behave and take the shake and you lock me back in here, how are you getting out?”

“I buzz ‘em, and they let me out.”

“So we’re not really alone.”

“Well, no, not after I buzz ‘em.”

“What if they see what you gave me?”

“Then I’m in trouble, so if you want it, you better take it now.”

“I want it.”

“Stay right where you are. Don’t be standing up when this door opens or I’ll be shutting it again.”

Florence unlocked the cage, handed Chloe the shake, then quickly locked it again. It was the first time Chloe had noticed emotion in her. Florence looked excited, maybe scared. Maybe flush with the feeling of doing something nice when she wasn’t supposed to.

Chloe sucked eagerly at the straw and was not disap-pointed. The shake was still cold, thick, rich, and-if anything-too chocolaty. Which, as she used to laugh about with her friends, was like saying something tasted too rich.

Florence stood watching her. “Whoa, girl. ‘Member you’re doing that on an empty stomach. Better pace yourself.”

“I will. And I don’t want brain freeze.” Florence laughed.

“And don’t forget to show me the picture of Brewster.”

“Oh, I will. Soon as you’re finished.”

Why not now?
Chloe wondered as she attacked the straw again. The sugar and caffeine were going to keep her awake, but it wasn’t like she had anything to look forward to in the morning. Maybe jock would show up and eat his breakfast in front of her again.

“Jock,” she said, giggling.

“What?” Florence said.

“Eggs in front of me.”

“What you going on about?”

“Jock. Jack. Jick. Jeck …”

“Hm?”

Chloe was dizzy. The cup was slipping. She reached with her other hand to steady it, but the shake fell to the floor and splashed. It hit her as the greatest tragedy she could recall, and she began to weep.

Her eyes were trying to shut. She forced herself to keep them open and deliberately lifted her chin so she could see Florence, who just stood watching. Florence pressed her buzzer. The outer door opened, and both Nigel and Jock entered, pushing a gurney.

“I’ll get this cleaned up,” Florence said, unlocking the cage.

“Great work, Flo,” Jock said. “Loved the bit about you having a kid.”

“Oh, honey, they easy when they hungry.”

BUCK
WAS
awakened midmorning by soft but insistent knocking on Rayford’s door. He reached up from the foldout couch and opened it.

“I was kinda hoping I’d wake your father-in-law,”

Sebastian said.

Suddenly Buck was wide awake. “What time is it?” “Almost 1000 hours.”

“What’s the deal? What’d your guys find?” “Buck, I got to go through channels.”

“What’re you, kidding me? You can’t tell me anything about my wife?”

“I report to Rayford, Buck. So do you.”

“You beat all, George. You know that?” Buck rocked himself up off the couch and banged on Rayford’s door.

“Sebastian’s here with a briefing, Dad. Let’s go.” Rayford emerged, looking foggy. “Hey, guys,” he said.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Same way you did,” Buck said. “Now let’s get to this.”

Buck stuffed sheets and blankets between the mattress and the back of the couch, closed it, and sat. Rayford joined him.

“I have my guy in the hall,” Sebastian said. “Wanted to make sure you two were presentable.”

“Your call,” Rayford said. “Here we sit in our Skivvies.”

George opened the door. “Razor?” he said. “You’re on.”

Razor was Hispanic, early twenties, and very military. He saluted everybody and Buck waved him off. “Come on, come on,” he said. “It’s just us. What’ve you got?”

“Sirs, I was on watch, as you know, and noticed motion-detector activity at approximately 0300 hours. One of my team of three is a female, so I asked if she would check the periscope in the Williamses’ quarters, due to the fact that a female was in there alone-well, with a baby, and I didn’t want to breach protocol by-”

“We know why, Mr. Razor,” Buck said. “Please.”

“Yes, sir. She checked and reported enemy activity within two blocks of the compound and secured permis-sion from Mrs. Toy for me to enter your domicile.”

Buck glanced at Rayford, shook his head, and stared at the floor.
For the love of all things sacred …

“I personally observed similar activity and so mar-shaled my team. We went out in fatigues and grease--painted faces, armed with lightweight, high-powered automatic weapons. Our objective was to observe, get close enough to listen, if possible, and-if necessary -either defend the compound or somehow misdirect the enemy to a neutral area, thus giving the occupants of said compound-“

“Time to evade,” Buck said. “Yeah, what happened?”

“We observed two separate platoons of GC canvassing the area; however, they appeared to have started about two blocks west of us and were proceeding in a westerly direction.”

“Meaning they were moving away from us rather than toward us?”

“Yes, sir, but that is not all entirely good news. Observing their direction and relative speed, we were able to flank them, and the two of my party on their south side had enough flora-and-fauna coverage to get close enough to hear them. They came away with the distinct impression that the objective for that particular mission was to begin where they had recently left off -in my estimation, Mr. Williams, what you and Mr. Sebastian had observed approximately twenty-four hours before-and were to survey a wide area leading to where Mrs. Williams was apprehended.”

“I’m praying you followed them to that point,” Buck said.

“We did, sir. We also overheard them saying that tomorrow night at the same time, they would be back-tracking and going past where they started, which obvi-ously would include our compound again. We expect them to be quite thorough, and thus if at all possible, we should be evacuated before 0200 hours tomorrow.”

“You have informed the right people, and the move is on pace?”

“Yes, sir, but there’s more. Near where they indicated Mrs. Williams was apprehended, our people recovered her Uzi and ski mask.”

“What’s that tell you, Buck?” Sebastian said. “She ditched them.”

“But we also-at least my people-heard two GC dis-cussing her disposition.”

It was all Buck could do to contain himself. “Please, Officer Razor, tell me what you heard about the disposi-tion of my wife.”

“They seemed to indicate that she was to be moved, sir.”

“When?”

“Within the hour, sir. Something about getting it done before Carpathia starts calling for troops from this region.”

“Back to the `within the hour’ business, Razor,” Buck said. “Within an hour from now or then?” “Then, sir.”

“All right, quit with the `sir’ stuff, please. I know you were in the military, but I wasn’t and it makes me crazy. You’re telling me Chloe was to be moved at about four this morning?”

“Yes, s-”

“To where?”

“The best my people could gather, s-Mr. Williams, was `somewhere back east.”’

“Somewhere back east.” Buck stood and held his open palms to Rayford and George. “They moved her some-where back east, which implies an aircraft-” he looked at his watch-“going on six hours ago. Tell me, Razor, did anyone think to get to GC headquarters and see if there was a chance to abort this move?”

“No, sir.”

“No one thought this might be an emergency worth waking Mr. Steele or Sebastian or me?”

“By the time I got the report, sir, um, sorry, the move would have been already in progress.”

“You assume.”

“Yes, that’s an assumption.”

“The one time they might be more vulnerable than another, taking a woman out of a cell, out of a building, into the open air to a vehicle so they could get her on an airplane, and we all sleep through it.”

“I apologize, sir, but in my judgment nothing effective could have been accomplished, given when we overheard this and the, ah, assumed timing of the maneuver.”

Buck could not stand still. He paced the apartment, looking expectantly at the three others. “We sat on it,” he said. “We had a window of opportunity, and we were asleep.”

“Buck, please,” Rayford said, but Buck would not be appeased.

“Somewhere back east,” Buck parroted. “That nar-rows it down, doesn’t it? Maybe if we all just start walk-ing east, we’ll overtake them, huh?”

“Thank you, Razor,” Sebastian said. “If there’s noth-ing else, you may go.”

“Thank you, sirs,” Razor said.

“Yeah, thanks for nothing,” Buck said. “I apologize, sir, if-”

“Oh, just go,” Buck said.

Rayford nodded at the young man, and he hurried out.

“Buck,” George said, “he probably made the right decision. Racing down there in the wee hours, hoping to get there in time to do something without a plan-”

“Would have at least been an effort, wouldn’t it?” Buck kicked a chair that flew into the kitchen and banged off the table and a cabinet. “I guess if I ever want to see my wife again, I’m going to have to be a one-man com-mando unit.”

“And get yourself killed,” Rayford said. “Now you’ve vented. That’s enough.”

“It’ll never be enough until I have Chloe back.”

Chloe had fallen off the metal shelf and into the chocolate mess on the floor. Since she was unable to break her fall, her head banged on the tile. She lay there with one leg tucked awkwardly beneath her, her head lolling, and fighting sleep. Whatever had been in the shake had tran-quilized her so thoroughly that she wanted only to go with the feeling and sleep the deep sleep of the drugged. It reminded her of how she felt after giving birth to Kenny.

Florence unlocked the cage and knelt to clean up the spill. She rolled Chloe onto her side and pulled her foot down so both legs were straight. She held Chloe with one hand as she cleaned the floor, then let go, and Chloe rolled onto her back.

Her eyes fell shut and her breathing became deep and regular, but she prayed desperately. “God, let me stay conscious. Let me hear. Help me listen.”

“That floor dry?” Jock said.

“Give it a second,” Florence said.

“Put the sheet down there, Nigel, and take her ankles. ”

Chloe felt Jock’s hands under her armpits and Nigel’s at her feet. “On three,” Jock said, and they lifted her off the floor and a few inches over to the sheet. Then they lifted the sheet to the gurney, and Chloe was glad her eyes were closed. She had lost equilibrium and felt as if she could pitch off the cart any second.

“Out to the truck quickly now.”

The gurney rolled across the big room, through the door, and stopped. Chloe heard elevator doors open. She was rolled aboard, and the car lifted one floor. Soon she was outside and could not open her eyes as hard as she tried. Uncovered, she felt the cold air, but something didn’t allow her even to shiver. She wanted to press her legs together and rub them and massage her arms with her hands, but she couldn’t move.

“Lord, please. Keep me awake.”

“A hearse?” Nigel said. “Whose idea was that?”

“Mine,” Jock said, chuckling. “People don’t want to look if they think there’s a stiff in here.”

“You going with her?” Florence said.

“Yup,” Jock said, and Chloe heard pride. “It’s my deal right up to the end.”

“When’s that going to be?” Florence said, and Chloe felt the vehicle moving.

“Not sure. They’re going to milk it. We may still get some information out of her. Truth serum is next.”

“That always works, doesn’t it?”

“Usually.”

Not this time.
“God, don’t let me say anything you don’t want me to.” Chloe was immobile from her toes to her scalp, yet God seemed to grant her wish of con-sciousness. She could hear and she could smell. Touch and sight were a different matter, but she had certainly felt the chill of the predawn air.

She guessed the mostly smooth ride at a little less than an hour. Then the gurney was lifted out of the hearse, rolled maybe a hundred yards, and carried by hand up some stairs and into what she assumed was a plane. And when the engines began to whine, she knew she was right. Chloe heard the congratulations and good-byes from Nigel and Florence. Then Jock and, she assumed, another man laid her out along several seats with arm-rests raised. The men somehow belted her in at the torso and the knees by using parts of seat belts from adjoining seats.

From their voices she could tell they sat in the row ahead of hers. She had the impression it was just the three of them and the pilots on a jumbo jet. She didn’t know of another plane that had enough seats together to allow her to stretch out.

“How long is this flight anyway?” a man with a Span-ish accent said.

“Four hours, I think, Jess,” Jock said. “Then we’ve got about a fifty-mile drive from the southwest. Whole Chi-cago area was nuked, you know, so we’ll be about as far north as we dare.”

The conversation deteriorated into the mundane, and Chloe succumbed to the drowsiness.

Buck knew he was being a nuisance, but he couldn’t help himself. While everyone else in the compound was pre-paring for the big move, he badgered people. Had any-one worked at GC headquarters before becoming a believer? Did anyone know anybody who had or did now? Any connections, any leads, any inside informa-tion? Somebody, anybody to talk to who might know someone who could be bluffed into giving out informa-tion about Chloe’s whereabouts?