Battle Lines (The Survivalist Book 5) (28 page)

Satisfied that the loop would work, she climbed into the truck and found the keys already in the ignition. When she fired it up, the engine spat and coughed, like it might stall out at any moment. She revved it a few times and popped the transmission into reverse. The tires spun on the dirt road, but finally grabbed, jerking the truck backwards. She eased off the gas and began to back slowly into the cornfield. The steel cable grew taut, and when it did, Tanner started to slide along the ground.

She smiled. When he woke up, Tanner was going to be so proud of her.

Chapter 19  

Mason led everyone through what had at one time been a neighborhood of quaint little townhouses but now resembled a city dump. The two-lane road was little more than a trail of asphalt winding its way through the mounds of broken boards, refrigerators, sofa cushions, and crumpled cars. After twenty long minutes, they finally arrived at a larger highway. Buildings on both sides of the road were in various states of collapse. None were safe to enter, and most looked like a good gust of wind would take them the rest of the way down.

He caught Bowie looking back at Leila, Annie, and Flynn.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “We’re picking up strays everywhere we go, but what else could we do?”

Bowie pressed against his leg, perhaps to remind him that he had been the first to join Mason’s eclectic band of adventurers.  

“Don’t worry, boy. You and I are in it to the very end.”

Mason stopped and studied the horizon, giving everyone else a chance to catch up.

“There it is,” he said, pointing toward the steel skeleton of an office building towering in the distance.

“How do you know that’s the financial center?” asked Leila.

“It’s the tallest thing still standing.”

“Is that where we’re going?” said Annie.

“We’re actually going to the museum next door.”

“To look for someone?”

“That’s right.”

Flynn leaned around Annie and said, “Is he a bad guy?”

Mason smiled. “I’m not sure yet, but we’ll be careful, just in case.”

“Good idea,” the little boy said, giving Mason the thumbs up.

“With all this destruction,” said Annie, “I don’t see how anyone could possibly still be alive.”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

They continued down the highway, heading straight toward the financial center. It looked to be about a half mile away, but judging distance was difficult. There were no landmarks remaining and no blocks by which to mark progress. Everywhere they looked was an endless sea of scorched cement, broken glass, and twisted metal.

Leila hurried up next to him and spoke in a hushed voice.

“I’m guessing this isn’t what you signed up for when you started on your manhunt.”

“Every journey has its twists and turns.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes they’re what make the trip worthwhile.”

She said nothing more, content to walk beside him and marvel at the unbelievable devastation all around them. To their left, an eight-story apartment building had collapsed and fallen onto a beautiful stone Presbyterian church. Faint cries for help echoed from beneath the mountain of rubble, but no one suggested they stop. Digging victims out from under a thousand tons of brick was a job best left to the National Guard—not that they would be coming.

On the front wall of the church were several black marks that had no obvious source. One was tall, and the other two were about Flynn’s size. Mason stopped and gently touched one of the dark shapes.

Seeing that it had his master’s attention, Bowie stepped closer and sniffed the wall.

“What are those?” asked Annie.

Mason said nothing.

“Marshal?”

“They’re called nuclear shadows,” he said softly.

“Which are what exactly?”

“When a nuclear bomb detonates, it releases a tremendous thermal blast. These are the shadows of people who were standing in front of the church before they were incinerated.”

“People? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Annie stepped closer and ran her fingers over the black smudges that forever marked the loss of a mother and her children. She let out an anguished sigh.

“This should never have happened.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It shouldn’t have.”

They continued ahead in silence, working their way through the mountains of debris from banks, restaurants, law offices, and several large parking decks, all of which had been destroyed by the blast. As they neared the towering steel structure, the road became covered in millions, perhaps billions, of shards of scorched blue glass.

Annie reached down and picked up a piece. It was smooth and translucent.

“Let me see,” begged Flynn.

She handed it back to him, and he held it up to his eye.

Mason stopped to consider their options. Up ahead, the mound of glass grew deeper, covering cars in massive dunes, and he wasn’t sure if it was safe to walk on. Perhaps they would sink into the glass, becoming the victims of a beautiful crystalline quicksand. To their right stood what was left of the First National Bank and Trust. Its majestic columns still towered into the sky like the ruins of a temple in Olympia, but the rest of the fifteen-story building had toppled backwards under the tremendous shockwave. There were small cavities leading into the rubble, but he had no idea if they came out on the other side. Neither path was without risk.

“Everyone wait here for a minute,” he said. “I’m going up to see if I can get eyes on the museum.”

As he turned to leave, Leila reached out and caught his arm.

“Are you sure that’s safe to walk on?”

He shrugged. “I’ll know in a minute.”

As Mason started up the tall mound of glass, he was surprised to find that it felt solid under his feet. When he got about half way up, he squatted and studied it. The intense heat from the blast had melted the glass, forming a huge mountain of blue crystal. Trapped within it were office furnishings and even a few unlucky people, forever preserved like insects in amber. He ran his hand gently across the glass. It was smooth, the sharp edges having been softened like warm butter.

“Is it okay?” shouted Leila.

He waved them up. “Come see.”

Leila, Annie, and Flynn ascended the mountain of glass, marveling at the strange crystalline surface beneath their feet. Even Bowie seemed fascinated by the translucent substance.

“Whoa!” cried Flynn. “It’s like we’re walking on a giant blue marble.”

Careful not to slip and fall, Mason led them the rest of the way up the glassy embankment. As they passed the bank ruins, the museum finally came into full view. The building had undoubtedly once been a beautiful stone manor standing alone in a sea of glass and steel. Now, however, only the stone face and a few internal walls remained. Most of the roof and interior structure had collapsed, leaving doorways that led nowhere. A thin cloud of dust rose from the debris, and a wide set of stone steps led up to the entryway. Crumbled rock, steel girders, and electrical wire stretched all across the lawn.

“Is that it?” asked Leila.

“It has to be.”

“It doesn’t look safe to go into.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“But you’re going in anyway.”

“I think I have to. You, Annie, and Flynn should wait out here.”

She shook her head. “I’m coming.”

Mason didn’t feel like arguing the point. Leila knew the risks, and it was her decision to make. The kids on the other hand were another story.

He turned to Annie. “You and Flynn go wait down by the bank.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Good idea.” She turned and began carefully inching her way back down the glassy slope.

“And try to stay out of sight,” he called.

She raised a hand, indicating that she had heard him.

Mason turned to Leila. “You ready?”

She shrugged. “Ready or not, let’s go see if anyone’s home.”

The inside of the museum consisted only of free standing segments of wallboard, a few doorframes, and piles of furniture and art exhibits. Dozens of victims lay buried under the rubble, dirt-covered arms and legs poking out, like a poorly planned game of hide-and-seek. Despite the unfortunate loss of life, Mason thought that the bodies were a good sign that they might actually be at the right place. People had been congregated in the museum when the bomb hit, and he doubted that it was to see the Abraham Lincoln exhibit.

Bowie found the entire scene fascinating, quickly moving from one item to the next. Leila, on the other hand, seemed to be struck by the humanity of it all.

She stopped and picked up a broken picture frame.

“Marshal, look at this,” she said, sliding out a small slip of yellowed paper. “It’s a letter penned by a soldier fighting at Yorktown more than two hundred years ago.” She looked around at the piles of broken artifacts. “This wasn’t a museum of fine art or dinosaur bones. It was a collection of real people’s stories.”

Mason nodded, lost in thought.

She stepped closer. “You’re thinking that if Lenny was here, he’s dead now.”

“No,” he said, leaning over and lifting an old whitewall tire out of the rubble. Beneath it was a dark hole leading down. “I was thinking that a man like Lenny would have found a way to survive.” He set his backpack down and fished out his flashlight.

Leila looked over his shoulder as he shined the light down into the hole.

“There’s a floor down there,” she said.

“A lower level.”

He pulled out the small spool of paracord and began tying one end to a steel girder.

“You do realize that this place could come down any minute.”

“I’ll be in and out.”

Bowie came over to investigate.

“What do you say, boy? Do you want to come with me?”

The dog stared at him with excitement, its tail swishing from side to side.

Mason turned to Leila. “Bowie and I will go down and take a look. Would you mind staying here to monitor our lifeline?”

She held up her bandaged hand.

“With this hand, I couldn’t go even if I wanted to. And, believe me, I don’t.”

“All right then,” he said, turning back to Bowie. “Let’s get you down into the hole.” Mason tied a simple two-loop harness and slipped one loop around Bowie’s head and front paws, and the second loop over his tail and back legs. He stroked the side of the dog’s face. “It’s going to be dark down there, so I need you to be brave.”

Bowie licked his face.

“Here we go.” Grabbing the top of the harness with both hands, Mason lifted Bowie into the air and shuffled over to straddle the hole. He felt his arms and chest straining to support the dog’s incredible one hundred and forty pounds. “I’ll be right behind you,” he grunted as he slowly lowered him down.

Bowie gave a little whimper as he disappeared into the darkness. After about ten feet, the rope went slack, and he barked up at them.

Mason quickly fed the extra cord into the hole and turned to face Leila.

“I’ll listen for the soldiers,” he said, patting the radio, “but reception might be spotty down there. If you hear the helicopter, give the rope two sharp tugs and take cover.”

She nodded. “Two tugs. Got it.”

As he grabbed the cord with both hands and prepared to climb down, she suddenly reached out and stopped him.

“Wait.”

“Something wrong?”

“I might not see you again.”

He smiled. “I’ll be all right.”

“Still. Just in case.” She leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. It was a quick kiss, the kind that was hard to read much into.

“I hope you don’t regret doing that when I poke my head out in ten minutes.”

“If you poke your head out in ten minutes,” she said with a wink, “I’ll give you another one.”

He leaned over and kissed her, and this time, she was the one surprised.

“What was that for?”

He grinned. “Just in case it takes me twenty.”