Flight Plan: Deconstruction Book Three (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller) Page 5

  Suddenly, the sky cracked open, pouring out tears that swept down like jagged missiles. Silent veins of luminous hues traced through the sky in hellish webs and the people outside scattered for cover, but the military continued their assault.

  I stepped back under the awning and in a panic stared to the street. Oscar and the others were gone. They’d either fled or were picked up by the soldiers that were now grabbing people and tossing them into the backs of trucks. Bill had gone fucking crazy.

  I didn’t know what was worse, the weather or an army unit arresting American citizens. Lightning flickered wildly, illuminating the battle as soldier’s baton’s collided with bone. Boots and water rushed down the gutters and I could feel every crackle of thunder in my chest.

  The national guard unit was slowly advancing, clashing with more and more people. But this was New York city and Bill hadn’t accounted for resistance. The small team was becoming entrenched, overwhelmed by the civilians that had decided they weren’t going to be pushed around.

  There was no organization, no leadership. Just twenty something year-olds trying to corral cats. Whatever plan Bill had devised, was doomed from the beginning.

  I stood there in shock as the mob clashed with the armed soldiers. Screams of anger and pain echoed down the crowded roads like a battlefield. The guard unit was being swarmed, but they weren’t going to back down. Suddenly, a single gunshot split the air and for a second everything stopped.

  An older woman with streaks of red left in her gray hair, fell back onto the pavement. Her floral blouse was covered in a vibrant crimson and her dull green eyes were wide with fear and shock.

  Neither side moved. The gravity of what had just occurred took a moment to sink in. But a line had been crossed and for the soldiers, their only hope was to keep pushing forward.

  “Fuck you!” a voice from the crowd roared. “Get them!”

  And just like that it began. Rocks and bottles took flight as the people surged forward. And in return the soldiers dropped to a knee and opened fire.

  With one last glance into the crowd, I turned and took off down the sidewalk. Bullets whizzed by my head, smashing into the various stores and shops. There wouldn’t be a way to explain this.

  I ran all out for nearly five minutes before my lungs felt like they’d melted into a puddle of goo in my chest. Huffing, I doubled over and leaned against a brick building, trying to keep my wobbly legs from failing me.

  I didn’t know where I was. But all the buildings had been haphazardly boarded up and deserted. The area looked rundown and I wasn’t sure if the boards had been there all along or put up as the city spiraled into darkness.

  The crowd had thinned out a bit, but I knew it wouldn’t take long for the panic and violence to continue spilling through the city. I needed to get out of town, I needed to get home.

  Rain fell in uncharacteristic splats and the streets rose with churning, dark muck. I stepped into a doorway to avoid the icy water and catch my breath. I watched as the sewers bubbled and debris ran down the road.

  Shaking the water out of my hair, I leaned my back against the wall and sighed. The crowd had already begun to rush in my direction and I knew it wouldn’t be long before the violence followed. I could hear the echo of gunshots already.

  With a groan, I straightened up. A small group of people sped by me and vanished down an alley. A few more stragglers came after them and then I could hear the armored truck and shouting from the troops.

  “In here,” a voice suddenly called from behind me.

  I whipped my head around and stared toward the building, but there was no one there. Hesitantly, I stepped closer then the board that covered the window moved to the side and a woman stuck her head out.

  “Hurry up,” the woman said and motioned her hand.

  I looked back down the street as the first wave of troops rounded the corner. They had their rifles raised and were indiscriminately firing into crowds. I clenched my fists then turned and crawled through the window into a sea of darkness.

  CHAPTER 6

  TURN YOUR BACK AND WALK AWAY

  “Molly,” the lady said casually and forced a smile on her dirt smudged face.

  “MJ,” I replied to her. “Thanks for letting me in.”

  “No worries.”

  She was wearing a faded blue, wool coat that was several sizes too big. A scarf covered her brown, frayed hair and a dusty, gray blanket was cloaked over her shoulders, disguising what I guessed was a baby.

  We were in a room off to the side that she’d led me to by candlelight. The place was empty, except for a rickety table and a few chairs, but as the sounds outside grew more ominous, I was happy to be there.

  “Is it just you and the baby in here?” I asked.

  She smiled and uncovered the child’s head, revealing a young girl with long, blonde locks and dried milk around her mouth. She was no more than four months old and bundled in a dirty, pink jacket, but looked like she was well taken care of.

  “Faith,” Molly said. “It’s just us.” Molly kissed her forehead then turned back to me and cocked her head to the side. “You have any kids?”

  “Yeah, Grayson. He’s twelve today.”

  “Where’s he at?”

  “Home…with his father. I had a business trip.”

  “So, what brings you to Shelter City?” she asked in an accusing tone.

  “Shelter city?” I echoed.

  “A block or two of closed down businesses. Bit of a safe haven for us downtrodden folk.”

  I narrowed my eyes and stared at her. She had a weathered look, like she’d been fighting to live for ages. She was probably younger than me, but the lines etched in her leathery skin betrayed her.

  I knew that look on her face, that fear that brought me back to a murky past filled with despair. It was the guise of every mother that had felt the sweet breath of their own creation wisp across their face. It was the demeanor of someone that would do any and everything to make sure their child never knew hurt.

  As she found my gaze I looked away and stared around the room. My eyes slowly adjusted to the faint light and I could see more of the dilapidated space. An old floral-patterned mattress was stowed in the corner with a dirty pillow and a tattered camping bag. A few baby bottles sat on the floor next to a gas burner with a rusted pot of water on top of it. This wasn’t any building, this was her home.

  We both jumped as the rapid snare of gunfire clattered outside and I unraveled from my daze. The rumble of hurried footsteps pounded loudly like they were in the next room and my heart crawled into my throat.

  I looked toward the door and held my breath. I’d seen firsthand how unhinged these troops were and I was certain they’d shoot first and ask questions never. I prayed they wouldn’t find us.

  Minutes ticked by like a lifetime. My heartbeat echoed in my head like a malfunctioning speaker. Right outside, people screamed and people died, but eventually the noises faded and we were alone again.

  I turned my attention back to Molly as she rocked her daughter to keep her quiet. There was something about her, something about her story that intrigued me.

  “How long have you lived here?” I asked.

  “Here? Two weeks, this time. Next place maybe longer. Sometimes the cops come and arrest of a few of us. We always come back though.”

  I frowned, knowing that there wouldn’t be a next place or anything to come back to.

  “It’s probably safe now. You can stay, but I figured you’d be wanting to get back to your boy…if you can.”

  “Yeah, yeah I need to get home.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said with a smile as she gently ran her fingers over Faith’s hair. “This will all blow over. Whatever’s happening out there, it’ll be alright.”

  “You’re not scared?”

  “Of course I am. I’m not stupid. But I can’t worry about what I don’t understand. These buildings have been here forever. They’ll hold out.”

  I wanted so b
adly to tell her to run, to tell her the truth of what was coming, but that wasn’t my job. So instead, I did what I do best, I lied.

  “You’re right. The media is always blowing things out of proportion. It’s not like it’s the end of the world.”

  CHAPTER 7

  THE TUNNEL TO NOWHERE

  After an hour of waiting I left Molly and her baby behind. I felt relieved when I finally walked out of the cramped little building and in to the open air. I’d spent my life deceiving people, but lying to Molly took a toll.

  Now I found myself in the middle of a city I didn’t really know without an idea of how I was going to get home. Bill never showed and the troops he did send were likely to shoot me on sight. We were supposed to be containing the situation, not throwing fuel on the fire.

  “Bill, you fucking asshole,” I huffed and stared ahead at the road.

  Swallowing my anger and fatigue, I lowered my head and stated walking. I walked with no real plan, just a general direction toward home. It was all I knew to do and the only thought that kept repeating in my head. Walk, and just keep walking.

  I left the city behind to find more destruction around every corner. Broken buildings and fractured lives scattered the landscape like the remnants of some great civilization that had been decimated with time. I could no longer keep count of the dead.

  Deep down I’d been waiting for this moment. Deep down I knew sooner or later the world was gonna go to shit. I just didn’t think I’d be here to see it.

  The roads had become eerily barren. Every now and then I’d see small pockets of people, just as lost and lonely as I was, but for the most part, I was walking through a cemetery. Those that hadn’t died had probably been taken by Bill’s henchmen.

  Eventually, I ran into a small group huddled around a fire in an alleyway. There were two men probably in their sixties and a lady about the same age that could’ve been their sister. They were dressed in old dingy clothes, but seemed content, even happy.

  I approached slowly and held my hands out toward the fire. “Do you mind?” I asked.

  The lady smiled and motioned me forward. I extended my arms over the writhing flames and cooed. The fire felt great. I hadn’t realized how cold I was until I felt the radiating warmth.

  “Where ya headed?” one of the men asked.

  “Arlington,” I replied.

  The other man laughed. “Good luck.”

  I gave him a look then shrugged my shoulders.

  “You’re about a mile from the Holland Tunnel sweet heart,” he continued. “That’s your way outta here and if the entire thing isn’t underwater yet, it will be soon.”

  “Be easy if you found a damn car, but I ain’t seen one since the military evacuated everyone,” the lady added.

  “What?” I gasped. “Evacuation?”

  “Yeah, came down here a while ago, bunch of those young boys with the real smooth faces. Screaming and carrying on about some storm coming.”

  “You didn’t leave?”

  “That’s sweet honey, but where am I gonna go?”

  “Maybe the vacation home in Miami Eunice,” one of the men said and they all started to laugh.

  The lady ran her fingers through her gray hair then turned back to me. “Truth is we’ve seen worse. The storm will come and go and we’ll still be here.”

  I smiled and nodded my head. “Well, I better get going. Tunnel’s that way?” I pointed down the long narrow road.

  “Just keep walking. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks,” I replied then headed off.

  Fucking Bill. What the hell was he trying to do?

  He had one job and it was the same as mine. There were protocols, rules to be followed and Bill had broken every single one. I was going to break his nose when I saw him.

  I arrived near the Holland Tunnel as the sun melted into nothing and pulled the day back into its arms. Night was calling, the day shed its clothes like a snake and steeped the world into shadows.

  The dank air and eerie glow from the emergency lights along the road made my skin crawl. There were hundreds of cars, jam packed together leading into the tunnel, but not another living soul in sight. This was the outcome of Bill’s failed evacuation.

  I stared down into the darkness and shivered. I had to get home and the tunnel was the only way. Trying to backtrack and find another path would’ve been suicide, but there was no guarantee that this wasn’t.

  “Toby and Grayson are on the other side of this,” I whispered to myself.

  With a deep breath, I started making my way down to the tunnel. The cold, wet air blew against my face and the sky grew darker and darker. My footsteps against the grimy concrete echoed in the emptiness and I fought against the growing fear that lingered in my belly.

  The opening looked ominous, draped in shadows and guarded by empty toll booths. It was like a gateway that led straight to hell, a never-ending ladder into the depths of the monster’s belly.

  The Holland Tunnel ran into New Jersey from New York. It was a dark corridor that twisted underneath the Hudson River like some secret passage. Barreling through it was normally routine, but since the day started there wasn’t much routine to anything.

  As I entered the tunnel the temperature dropped and I wished I’d taken more clothes when I had the chance. My sweater was still damp and my frayed jeans weren’t fairing much better. The elements were bound to claim me sooner or later.

  My thick boots clacked loudly in the empty chamber. Every sound I made stretched into the depths ahead like a lost boy looking for a friend. But I was alone, a torch in a dark cave, praying that there would still be a home left for me to go back to.

  The tunnel disappeared ahead of me and I fought against the urge to turn back. Dim, orange lights attached to the ceiling, barely illuminated my hand in front of my face. Every step I took brought me deeper into the unknown.

  I tried to keep my mind busy, to focus on anything besides the fear I was feeling. Grayson came to mind. I loved that boy more than he could ever know. He was my first and only child, a little piece of my heart running around out there alone.

  I’d almost given up on having kids. Toby and I had tried for so long with no luck. I thought it was him, he thought it was me and the stress nearly broke us. Grayson was what brought us back together, Grayson had saved my marriage.

  “Get your shit together MJ,” I grumbled.

  I took a deep breath and tried to focus. There was a mile and a half abyss waiting for me and I didn’t need to be distracted. I needed to be sharp because I was convinced, the world was trying to kill me.

  I stood there for a moment in silence, breathing through my nose, slowly taking in the scents of the underground. It was the loneliest I’d been in my entire life, the furthest I’d been from humanity. There was just me and the darkness, me and whatever lay in the shadows of that dank structure.

  “Keep going.”

  Step by step I walked into the nothingness before me. The darkness soaked up everything, even the sound of my feet splashing in the little puddles of rat piss.

  I was blind down there and the dim lights above looked like fireflies, leading me to a gory end. But the thought of Grayson calling to me, the thought of him needing me, kept me going.

  Ten minutes melted away, but it felt like hours. It felt like I’d spent a lifetime in the darkness on my way to nowhere. So, I kept my head down and just continued to walk.

  “This isn’t shit MJ,” I called to myself.

  “Yeah…this ain’t shit,” I answered.

  “We got this. Just like Annapolis, just like the farm. We do what we gotta do.”

  “Bet you didn’t think you’d be talking to yourself in a dark, piss-smelling tunnel when you woke up today?”

  “You got that right. Now I regret not taking those complimentary donuts.”

  The talking kept me sane. It helped me keep my mind off the fact that I was underground, alone in the dark.

  The wind whistled as it ble
w through the tunnel, bringing with it a foul stench from the other side. The ground quivered and I felt a sense of urgency return to my step.

  “It’s gonna hold,” I told myself.

  An empty promise as the vibrations increased and I sped up. I could smell freedom just out of my grasp. I could sense the open air just out of my sight.

  As the tunnel started to widen a piece of the road in front of me snapped like a broken branch. I dove backward just in time to avoid the slab of iron-reinforced concrete. It smashed into the ground and splintered apart with a thundering rattle.

  I dove over the crater it left and sprinted for the opening. I’d survived too much to die in a fucking man-made cave. Down in the dark, where no one would find me or know what happened.

  The walls around me started to crumble and I could hear the rush of water as the river filled the tunnel. Nature had a way of claiming things back, clawing its property from the greedy hands of men and leaving ruin in its wake.

  My heart pounded as I raced through the unknown. Huffing, I sped toward the slowly growing light in front of me. The tunnel was ending, but behind me a wave of water was nipping at my heels.

  I heard the swirling rapids as they closed in. I felt the rush of fresh air as I sped up the incline. To the side, two concrete walls separated me from freedom and I shot toward them like an arrow. Diving over the dividers I fell to the ground as the tunnel collapsed in on itself.

  “Shit,” I gasped and rolled over onto my back.

  I laid there for a few minutes then rolled over and looked down at the water sloshing up against the wall. Suddenly, I started laughing uncontrollably. I didn’t know why and I didn’t even want to, but as I stared back to what used to be the Holland Tunnel, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  I laughed until my stomach hurt, until my eyes teared and drool ran from my lips. I pitched cackles into the night sky like a crazed hyena. I roared in greedy satisfaction to an invisible jester with wiggling fingers, tickling me into a fit.

  I laughed for every near-death experience, for every stranger that’d left my life tragically. I laughed for all the lies I’d told and all the lies I’d still have to tell. I laughed for Molly and Faith and Oscar and Derrick. I laughed for Quentin and every friend I’d lost. I laughed until the humor turned to pain and hopelessness. I laughed until every part of me hated the sound and I shrank to a sobbing mess, right there on the cold, wet concrete.