The Precipice: The Chronicles of Altor, page 16
The boys were part of this. This craziness. He’d heard of the mobs ransacking houses, even here in their town, but he would never have believed his boys would have anything to do with it. But how else to explain the presence of the paintings?
“Deon?” Nia called from the living room.
“Yeah?” Deon answered, doing his best to keep any shake out of his voice.
“Come here. You need to see this.”
He wanted to say, “You come here first,” but he didn’t. He left the three paintings where they were and walked slowly down the hall.
Nia was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the television. The knuckles of her right hand were covering her mouth and her eyes were wide.
Deon put an arm around her and said, “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer, but pointed at the TV.
On the screen, there was an image of an airplane being blown out of the sky, just as it took off. That image quickly changed to footage of the White House. The left quadrant of the building seemed to be completely missing and a thick plume of smoke roiled into the sky.
The destruction of the White House should have been an image, like the twin towers falling, that would dominate the news for weeks, but the image changed again and again. Someone had run a plane into the Space Needle in Seattle and it was now canted over at a dangerous angle. Then a shot of the New York Stock Exchange, reduced to a pile of rubble. Then more plane crashes. More explosions. Train derailments. The images of destruction went on and on so fast that the newscasters couldn’t even describe one before the next appeared.
The newscaster finally said, “Ladies and gentlemen, without being too dramatic, this almost appears to be the end of the world. Every imaginable terrorist act is occurring simultaneously. This is horrible beyond words.” He went quiet then, and let the images tell the story of mass destruction across America.
The final, most-frightening image was one that would stay in the consciousness of the world forever.
The familiar picture of the Hollywood sign lit up in the background, then the screen went completely white for a moment. As the flare of that image faded, a familiar mushroom-shaped cloud climbed over the City of Angels.
“Oh!” Nia said, turning away and burying her face in Deon’s chest.
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair.
At that precise moment, the power went out, leaving them—and almost the entire country—in blackness.
Deon held her tight and his mind worked quickly. One minute earlier, his greatest worry had been that Shaquem and Shaquille had somehow been involved in the looting. Now, standing in the utter blackness of their home, simple survival became the issue at hand.
Softly, trying to keep the tremble out of his own voice, Deon said, “I’ll find the flashlight, then we can get the candles out.”
For the first time, Nia realized that the boys hadn’t come out with Deon. While he went into the kitchen to retrieve the flashlight, she called out, “Shaquem? Shaquille? Come out here now.”
A moment later, she heard the slow shuffling of feet as the boys appeared out of the back of the house. If they had returned five minutes earlier, Deon never would have found their stash of paintings. As it was, they had come through the window just as the power died. They walked right by the paintings and were unaware they had been discovered.
“What’s going on?” Shaquille asked, feeling his way into the room. “Forget to pay the power bill?”
Deon flicked the flashlight on in the kitchen, retrieved several candles and lit them. He brought light back into the living room. “Where have you two been?” His voice was not going along with Shaquille’s joking tone.
“In our room,” Shaquem and Shaquille answered together.
In the flickering light of the candle Deon held, his expression was plain to the twins. They both knew the gig was up. They glanced at each other, communicating in twin-speak, wordlessly looking a question about how to handle the situation.
They were saved having to think up a lie and think it up quick by a sharp rap on the door.
Everyone froze. At the moment the world seemed to be falling apart, the last thing they expected was company.
“Go in the kitchen,” Deon said to Nia and the boys. He opened the coat closet and grabbed his baseball bat. “I’ll get this.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
So Long and Good Luck
Nyx pulled up to the next target on her phone. She was bone-tired after a solid week of jumping from one city to the next, never stopping to rest except when she was flying between destinations.
She was in another of a series of anonymous SUVs, following the GPS directions through another small American city. There was nothing to distinguish it from every other place she had seen recently. Big corporate box stores on the highway, half a dozen factories, and residential neighborhoods identified by how nice the vehicles were that parked in the driveway.
It had started to rain. She drove in silence. Music only distracted her, and she knew what the news was going to report.
She turned down a quiet street and rolled to a stop in front of a modest rambler in a neighborhood full of the exact same type of houses.
Ignoring the spattering rain, she slipped quietly out of the SUV just as the lights went out. Streetlights, porch lights, and warm yellow light showing from around the edges of curtains pulled tight all went out at the same instant.
Nyx stood stock still and swiveled her head from side to side. There was no unexpected movement to trigger her alarms. She sighed. It was only a question of time before the power grid went down.
She had seen light inside when she pulled up, so she was sure someone was home.
As she approached the front door, she saw the beam of a flashlight bouncing around, followed by the smaller light of what appeared to be a candle.
She walked across the yard and knocked firmly. She had heard conversation through the door when she had approached, but that cut off instantly when she knocked. She waited but didn’t bother to knock again. With the power out, Nyx knew they had heard her.
She decided to give them one minute, then she would mark them as declined and move to the next person on her list.
She was forty-five seconds into that minute countdown when the door opened a crack. There was a large Black man on the other side, holding a baseball bat. He was over six feet tall but had hair that was more gray than anything. He also appeared to be carrying thirty extra pounds or so.
To a normal person who knocked on the door, he might have been an intimidating figure, but to Nyx, he was more comical than frightening.
“Mr. Armstrong?”
“What do you want?” the man asked, vaguely waving the bat at his side.
“I want to talk with you about your boys,” Nyx glanced down at her phone, “Shaquem and Shaquille.”
“Whatever you think they’ve done, they didn’t do it. We’ve got other things to think about if you haven’t noticed.”
“I can save them,” Nyx said abruptly.
The man had already partially shut the door, but paused. “What do you mean? How?”
“I’d rather come inside out of the rain if you don’t mind. I only need a few minutes to explain. If you or they don’t want to participate, I’ll be gone.”
The big man, who she had already identified as Deon Armstrong, squinted at her, hesitant. At that moment in time, the opportunity of safety was so appealing, it couldn’t be disregarded lightly. He paused for another two beats, then opened the door and said, “Come in, but if you’re peddling some crazy bullshit, I’ll toss you back out myself.”
Nyx knew that was an empty threat, but simply nodded and said, “It will sound a little crazy, but you won’t have to throw me out. I’ll leave if you want me to.” She stepped inside and saw a woman and two teenage boys—her targets, no doubt.
“I’m Deon, this is my wife Nia, and these are our boys, Shaquem and Shaquille.”
“I’m Nyx. Time is short, so I’ll be very direct.” Nyx took less than three minutes to lay out the opportunity she was offering. She had made the pitch often enough that she had boiled it down to the essentials.
When she was done, Deon and Nia turned to each other. Nia managed to convey something to Deon with a look. He said, “So if this isn’t some wild-ass con—and I don’t see how you’d be profiting from it—then how long would we have before we go?”
Nyx only hesitated for a micro-moment before she plunged ahead. This was the part she hated.
“I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood. This offer isn’t for all four of you. It’s just for Shaquem and Shaquille.”
Even in the flickering candlelight, Nyx could see the impact of those words. Shock and pain took the place of the hope that had started to grow.
“No way. You can forget it,” the boy Nyx thought was Shaquille said. “We aren’t leaving our parents behind in this craziness to go live with some rich dude.”
“No way,” Shaquem agreed.
Nyx’s eyes flicked to Deon and Nia. She could see they understood.
“I understand, and that’s completely fine. It’s an impossible choice to make. I accept your decision and I’ll see myself out.” Nyx slipped her phone into her jacket pocket but didn’t mark the two young men as Declined. “I’m sorry to have put you in this position.” Without hesitation, she reached for the door, stepped through and walked across the yard.
She started the engine of the SUV. She didn’t plan to sit there long but also wasn’t in a huge hurry to leave. She was not unfeeling and knew the horrible choice she had just left with those four people.
When she had hesitated as long as she felt she could, she shifted in Drive. Before she could take her foot off the brake and pull away, she glanced and saw the door of the small house open. Deon Armstrong stepped through and said, “Wait!” in a voice that carried.
A moment later, the two boys stepped onto the small porch, hugged their parents desperately, then turned away and walked across the yard.
Nyx unlocked the doors, rolled down her window and said, “Get in.” She grabbed her phone, responded that the two young men had accepted, then looked at the two of them in the back seat.
They were both as tall as their father, but lean. Their faces were pulled into tight knots, tears running down their cheeks.
NYX DELIVERED THE ARMSTRONGS to a predetermined location, where a helicopter was waiting to whisk them away. She thumbed her phone but found that instead of giving her another person to recruit, she was only given a location.
“Mine is not to wonder why, mine is but to do and die,” she mumbled to herself. She got back in the SUV and followed the directions to the location. She soon left signs of civilization behind, which was fine with her. Things were too unpredictable anywhere that people were gathered.
Nyx knew she could take care of herself, but an accidental shot or a stray bullet was impossible to predict. She pulled onto a country road and found herself in the middle of a field. There was no one and nothing in sight.
She got out of the SUV and looked up at the brilliant array of stars overhead. With the world dark, the stars and half-moon reclaimed the night. A hundred yards away crickets and frogs sang to each other, apparently one trying to drown the other out.
She checked her messages and saw three flashing dots that indicated someone was typing a message. In the far distance, she could hear the sound of a helicopter approaching.
Minutes passed, but the message never appeared on her screen. She finally looked up as the helicopter descended to a clear spot fifty yards away.
The phone vibrated and she glanced down. There was a message that read, Report when you are in the chopper.
She watched the aircraft touch down and jogged toward it. The door slid open, and a helmeted man dressed in camouflage gave her a thumbs up as she approached.
Nyx took the indicated seat, then placed a pair of headphones over her ears. The roar of the helicopter blades faded as the soundproof headphones settled into place and she felt the chopper rise off the ground.
She reached for her phone and typed, We are airborne. A moment later her phone announced an incoming call from an unknown number. She heard the ringing through her headset and understood it had paired with her phone. She tapped on the ‘accept call’ icon. There was a click followed by a series of beeps and long pulsing tones before silence.
“Nyx,” the voice spoke crystal clear through the headphones.
She smiled, recognizing it instantly. “General.”
“How are things out there?”
“Not good,” she said, rubbing absently at one eye. “And getting worse by the moment.”
The general grunted. “That matches every other report collected.”
Nyx was not surprised to hear this. “I’m ready for the next batch of contacts,” she said.
“There are no more to give. All stragglers have been contacted.”
“Mission accomplished then?”
“Affirmative.”
Nyx smiled, allowing herself to feel a momentary sense of satisfaction. After a few seconds, she gave a nod and dismissed the smile. “I’m ready for my next set of orders then, sir.”
The general chuckled. “There are no further orders, Nyx.”
The woman frowned.
“I think it’s time for you to collect what you are due.”
She didn’t reply.
“I will feel better from a tactical point of view if you are delivered to your new outpost and have time to get it all set up. Sooner rather than later.”
“That makes tactical sense.”
“Good. When you accepted this mission, you designated four others to join you. Is that number still accurate?”
“That’s still correct.”
“Call them and make arrangements to rendezvous,” the general instructed. “The chopper and crew are yours until you and those you want with you arrive at your nest safely.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“No, Nyx. Thank you.”
Nyx grinned. “It’s always a pleasure to work for you, General.”
“I’m lucky to have skilled soldiers like you. I never take it for granted.”
Which is why so many of us follow you, Nyx thought to herself.
“When you get settled in, please call me from your phone,” the general instructed. “And then keep it somewhere charged and safe. It will be connected to the network that links directly to Altor. That network is linked to a dedicated satellite that few people know exists. If all goes as planned, it will be active for at least the next five thousand years.”
“That should be long enough for me, sir.”
Another laugh. “Stay sharp and safe, operator. There is likely to come a time I will ask for your help again.”
“You have only to call, General. I will always answer.”
There was a pause over the line as the double meaning sunk in. Finally the general spoke once more. “The storm is upon us, Nyx. Stay safe and dry.”
“You too, sir.”
The line went dead.
Nyx looked out the window and watched the scenery stream past.
After a few minutes, she retrieved her phone and dialed the number for the first of her contacts who would come with her to share in her reward.
THE PILOT AND CO-PILOT sat in the cargo area of the craft, legs hanging over the edge and swinging slowly, drinking the beers Nyx had given them. “I came to tell you everything is good on my end. You can take off whenever you like.”
“I see more than two beers in here,” the co-pilot said. “Join us for one?”
“Sure, thanks.” Nyx accepted the beer and twisted the cap off. She took a swig and leaned against one tire of the helicopter’s landing gear.
“Gotta admit,” Paul said, looking out over the forest toward the mountain wilderness, “this is a pretty good spot to hole up in.”
“That’s true,” Nyx agreed, staring out at the scenery as well. She had been pleased to find that her reward was a mountain stronghold strategically placed high in the mountains of Colorado. She had spent the last two hours touring the place with her mother, sister, brother-in-law, and young niece. The compound was fortified; both the living quarters and the sizeable bomb shelter built into the ground below. There were provisions and growing facilities to keep them fed, sheltered, and with drinkable water for centuries. The general had also provided her with a full arsenal of weaponry ranging from rifles all the way up to computer guided anti-aircraft weapons systems. Added to that were vehicles that could cover land, air, snow, and water, all of which Nyx was proficient in operating.
She had never expected to be offered a spot in the domed city of Altor. She knew it was people with her set of skills that would survive and even thrive in this new chaotic world that was being born from the death of the old. And there might come a time when the general needed her or her contacts. Living outside was best for Nyx. And the compound he had gifted her with as reward for her service pleased her more than anything else she could have imagined.
“Think you’ll get bored up here?” Paul asked.
“I doubt it,” Nyx said, staring up at the clear blue sky. “The world as we knew it is dying. I don’t think anywhere will escape the effects of its death throes. Even here.”
“I suppose you’re right,” the co-pilot said.
“But until that happens,” Nyx grinned, raising her beer, “I’ll enjoy this for as long as it lasts.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Cabin in the Woods
Van glanced at his watch. It was just past midnight and he had slowed down to twenty MPH. The road was twisty and only one lane wide, with long ruts filled with rainwater. In spots, it wasn’t even a single lane, as ferns and blackberries were growing out and reclaiming the path.
Van knew that this growth hadn’t happened in the last few days, and that pleased him. Hendu had wanted to take over the lead and drive to the cabin via the easiest access road. They had no doubt that their cabin was the same safe haven it had always been. Van wasn’t so sure and had vetoed that idea.
