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Authors: Meira Pentermann

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BOOK: Nine-Tenths
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A second later, Leonard’s heart nearly stopped. In the far distance, he saw what looked like a large wall running along the ridge of the mountain. Little bumps at regular intervals resembled turrets. Leonard glanced at his daughter. She appeared to be absorbed in the sights, so he said nothing.

He found the exit in the middle of town. The government gas station was one block over. In addition to DTS employees, armed soldiers wandered around the streets watching citizens closely. Leonard made his way to an available pump. The DTS attendant engaged in a routine similar to the one performed by the smart-alecky kid back at the Western Gate. He measured the remaining gas in the Toyota, collected a one-gallon ration coupon, and added gas to the tank.

While they were waiting, Natalia pointed out a green sign on a billboard. Permanent letters and computerized numbers informed visitors of their limited traveling rights.

Citizens must leave an hour before sunset. Today the sun sets at 7:09 p.m.

Leonard looked at his watch. It was nearly five p.m.

The DTS attendant appeared at Leonard’s window. “I gave you an extra tenth of a gallon so you can wander around town.”

Taken aback, Leonard offered an enthusiastic
thank you.
It occurred to him a moment later how pathetic it was that a tenth of a gallon of gas struck him as a grand gesture of generosity.

“No problem,” the guard replied. “Move along.”

They pulled out of the gas station and parked nearby.

“The ramp back onto the freeway was not barricaded,” Leonard said. “I think there is one more exit a little farther west. We ought to see how far we can go.”

Natalia nodded.

Leonard returned to the interstate and headed west. As they got closer to the edge of town, he realized there was no denying it.

Looming in the distance, a massive wall built out of cement blocks made the Western Gate seem trivial. Topped with copious amounts of razor wire, the rampart appeared impenetrable. Guard towers were positioned at intervals of a hundred yards. Unlike the dark, enclosed towers of the Western Gate, these were square lookout platforms with modest covers in case of inclement weather. Mostly visible to the north, the Wall ran along a ridge and disappeared from view. It crossed I-70 and presumably continued south behind the nearest rocky mound. At the highest visible point on the north side, the tallest watchtower hovered over the landscape, giving the once charming gold miners’ town an oppressive, prisonlike atmosphere.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The daunting cement wall appeared to grow substantially as they approached the gate. A steel door stood at least fifteen feet tall, and it was wide enough to cover two of the westbound lanes.

A stocky female guard, flanked by two men with rifles in firing position approached Leonard’s vehicle as he slowed near the gate. These were no Department of Transportation and Safety employees. Definitely military personnel. Leonard glanced at Natalia as he rolled down the window. She held the IDs and her green pass firmly in her fingers, an expression of resolution on her face.

Time to step up, Leonard. You’re a VIP. These guards are insignificant in relation to the esteemed Dr. Robert H. Cook,
he told himself, although he had modest doubts.

“Excuse me, sir,” the woman said authoritatively. “Only authorized personnel are allowed in this area.”

Leonard casually retrieved the IDs and minor’s pass from Natalia’s dainty hands and passed them to the guard, maintaining a bored, haughty expression.

The guard examined the IDs carefully.

“Could you step out of the car, Dr. Cook?”

“Why?”

“I need you to take a retina scan.” She indicated a stationary device in a kiosk a few feet away.

Forcing himself to ignore the armed guards, which made him insanely nervous, Leonard slipped out of the car and approached the kiosk.

“And my niece?” he asked nonchalantly.

The female guard studied Natalia’s green pass. “Not necessary.”

Leonard completed his retina scan and faced the guard. She consulted a computer mounted to the kiosk. A few seconds later, she nodded.

“Is there anything else?” Leonard inquired, a cool, mocking tone in his voice.

“Where are you going this evening, Dr. Cook?”

“Where am I going?” He scowled menacingly. “Where do you think I’m going?”

“Why are you visiting the infirmary?”

“That is none of your business.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I have to ask.”

Pleased that his arrogant demeanor garnered a reluctant respect, Leonard responded confidently. “I’m visiting a patient.”

The guard typed a note on her computer. “And the girl?”

“She’s visiting a friend.” Not wanting to refer to a nonexistent relative, the idea entered his subconscious and slipped out before he could consider it. In retrospect, it seemed rather foolish to propose that a thirteen-year-old girl might have a friend in the infirmary, but the words escaped and it was too late to recall them.

The guard frowned, but to Leonard’s surprise, it was a frown of deep sorrow. She gazed at Natalia and shook her head sadly. “You may proceed,” she said, steadying her voice and lifting her head with dignity.

Leonard turned to go.

“Wait,” she called.

Leonard did an about face, his heart pounding.

“You realize the time, sir?”

“Do I look like an idiot?”

“You will not be allowed to return after sunset.”

“Naturally. We will be staying over.” Leonard prayed that such an explanation was acceptable.

The guard nodded softly, her eyes on Natalia. “Very well then.” She marched back to her post and motioned for someone to unlock and open the gate.

As they passed through the barrier, Leonard watched in his rearview mirror. The guards, no longer interested in the Toyota and its occupants, hastily closed and locked the massive fortress.

***

After ten miles, Leonard caught sight of a roadblock that forced them off I-70 and onto Highway 40. More upturned vehicles and piles of rubble made the way impassable. As Leonard maneuvered the car onto the exit, he glanced to his left. Beyond the blockade, I-70 looked vastly different. The road was already deteriorating like the route to a ghost town.

“Unbelievable,” he whispered.

“Huh?”

Not wishing to burden his daughter with the despair he felt in seeing a once productive, heavily populated interstate reduced to ruins, he merely mumbled, “Nothing.”

Vehicles or rocks barricaded all exits and crossroads along Highway 40, so Leonard continued on dutifully, wondering how far they would travel before they reached the infirmary. Given the desolation of the area, it would not be unreasonable to fetch some of Alina’s stashed gas supply if necessary.

Just as he was making rough calculations in his head, they rounded a bend and he saw the first glimpse of the infirmary in a town formerly known as Empire, Colorado. Tall buildings surrounded by chain-link fences dotted the area. Watchtowers on the outlying hills implied that the facility spread beyond the city, appearing to weave its way deep into the valleys to the west and to the south, as well as up the mountain to the north.

A cavity in the side of the mountain was swarming with tens of thousands of little orange dots — some creeping up; others floating down, creating an optical illusion that made it difficult to estimate the crater’s location and size. What were those dots? If they were some kind of beetle, the crater must be very close, even though it appeared to be miles away.

Along the road they passed dozens of fortified prisons, one after another, enclosed by chain-link fencing and razor wire. Only a few unfenced buildings were accessible just off the side of the highway, presumably administrative offices. Leonard decided not to stop unless asked, and he continued driving as if he belonged and knew where he was going.

He flinched suddenly when he noticed several men dressed in orange jumpsuits behind one of the enclosures. His brain immediately made the connection. The tens of thousands of orange dots he witnessed swarming in the cavity were prisoners working in a mine. Leonard tried to swallow but his throat felt dry.

Around the bend, he caught sight of another group of prisoners, chained together, shuffling along on the shoulder. Armed guards flanked them, walked quietly, almost bored. Difficult to discern the gender of the prisoners, the somber individuals appeared physically battered and emotionally broken. Leonard looked away, willing the prisoners not to impress themselves upon his conscience.

Natalia covered her mouth and began to cry. Leonard glanced at his frightened daughter. Tears streamed down her face as she digested the bitter sight.

“There’s nothing we can do, Nat,” Leonard said gently.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Can’t we help them escape?”

“We’ll be lucky if we can make it out just the two of us.” The moment the words left his mouth, he chastised himself.
That’s comforting, Leonard.

Natalia let out a muffled sob.

He stammered, unsure of what to say next. “But you and I…we have a great plan…a load of supplies, and the will to survive.”

She turned away.

“We can do this.”

No response.

They drove on. Fewer and fewer prison structures lined the road until it was just trees and hills and the distant view of a pointed mountain. An occasional crop of abandoned buildings whizzed by. Otherwise, no signs of civilization.

No one appeared to be following them. Leonard breathed a sigh of relief, although the skeptic within him wondered if it had been too easy.

Ten minutes later, just after they passed an assortment of deserted houses at Berthoud Falls, they approached a huge switchback. Leonard decelerated.

“Dammit,” he shouted.

Natalia sat up.

Before them, a massive barricade built out of eighteen-wheelers and rock piles blocked their way. Leonard came to a screeching halt and slammed his hands repeatedly on the rim of the steering wheel.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit.”

Natalia said nothing, her gaping mouth incapable of forming words.

Leonard backed up two hundred feet very quickly and swerved left onto the only turnoff, Henderson Mine Road. But a few hundred feet in, they faced another blockade, this one made of rubble and trees. They were trapped. No vehicle, not even a Jeep, would find passage on either road.

After several minutes of silence, Leonard turned the car around and made his way back to the abandoned buildings of Berthoud Falls. He hid the vehicle behind a dilapidated standalone garage.

“Time to walk,” Leonard said.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“This is why your mother planned ahead.”

Leonard jimmied open the smuggling compartments and they fished through the supplies. The backpacks already contained granola bars, water purifying packets, one water bottle each, and the thermal hoodies. The larger pack held a Swiss army knife, a compass, four empty Ziplocs, and a medium-sized box of matches. Leonard put the matches in one of the Ziplocs and closed it tight. The smaller pack contained a large tube of sunscreen, three more Ziplocs, and a small box of matches. Watching her father, Natalia secured the matches inside a Ziploc. Leonard added sixteen MREs, dividing the meals between them. He threw in an extra t-shirt for each of them, but left behind the rest of their clothing. He wanted to keep the load as light as possible. Finally, he tied the brownish-green sleeping bags to the packs. Alina had mentioned that the sleeping bags contained money, sewn into the lining. There was no time to search for it now. He’d just have to trust it was there.

“No flashlight?” Leonard grumbled in frustration as he searched the smuggling compartments. “Alina hadn’t bought the flashlights yet.” He groaned. “And the maps are sewn under the inside layer of her purse.”

“No maps?”

“We have a compass. We’ll just keep working our way south on whatever roads we find. That way we’ll eventually meet back up with I-70.”

Now thinking like a survivalist, Leonard surveyed their surroundings. Dry conditions indicated little or no snowfall since September first. An asset in regards to mud and footprints, but possibly a liability if the rivers were low.

They proceeded, clambering over the barricade on Henderson Mine Road and walking until they came to a fork. A dirt road continued south — the obvious choice. With each step, Leonard assessed their situation, trying not to become overwhelmed. Now that they were on foot, the journey was quite a different one, involving days of hiking and potential hazards. Would the MREs last? Would they find water?

“I’m hungry,” Natalia announced. “Dishi had some snacks for us, but I didn’t really eat lunch.”

Leonard cringed. “Just a little farther, Nat. We need to make some distance and stretch out our supplies.”

She said nothing.

When they happened upon a reservoir, Leonard and Natalia stopped to drink some bottled water and eat a couple of granola bars. The sun was getting lower and a chill caused Natalia to shiver.

“We should put on the thermal hoodies,” Leonard said, rummaging through his pack. Before he located his hoodie, a twig cracked behind them. Leonard froze. Natalia grabbed his hand.

A low, menacing growl followed by a swift clatter could only mean one thing. Hands clasped tightly, Leonard and Natalia slowly rose to their feet, turning their heads in the direction of the noise.

Two dogs baring their teeth and five armed guards stood before them, their rifles aimed at Leonard’s chest.

Chapter Thirty

“Hands behind your heads,” a tall man barked.

Natalia gasped and slowly placed her hands on the nape of her neck.

“Now!”

Leonard followed suit.

The strangers wore brown uniforms. More elaborate than the gray DTS coveralls, their attire included a series of medals and insignias. Leonard recognized the DID seal on their lapels. These men appeared to be military personnel, not just run-of-the-mill government employees. Gold buttons ran from neck to navel, giving the soldiers a distinguished appearance. Round brown hats with modest visors faintly resembled German World War Two helmets.

BOOK: Nine-Tenths
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