THE KILLER ANGEL : Book Three "Journey" (THE KILLER ANGEL TRILOGY 3) (21 page)

I recalled the urgent message from Marshall Kellogg that had pushed Brick and me to commence our odyssey. “Scottie, in Hedley we picked up a frightening message from Marshall. He was en route from someplace that had been breached, maybe six months ago.”

“Ahh, yes, that was a bad time for us.” Scottie’s face darkened as she remembered. “We learned some unpleasant lessons that day, but overall, it proved that our ‘castle’ system works, even with a catastrophic failure.”

I listened in disquiet to my sister, myself reliving each vividly described moment as though I had been there, feeling the dangers and the losses.

“Winchester,” Scottie began, “our original fourth facility just outside of Haydock. Marshall was there overseeing the demolition of buildings that surrounded our chosen hotel. It was a good location and met most of our criteria for a secure facility that could be improved to what we required. He had set up a concertina wire perimeter, which had always proven an excellent impediment to runners and human troublemakers alike. Unfortunately, we made the fatal mistake of not clearing a nearby arena before using explosives.”

My mind was quickly imagining the scope of what Scottie, Flynn and Marshall were doing as they expanded their system of castles. In effect, they were building island safe zones for survivors, expanding civilized, human control over large areas of what would otherwise indefinitely remain deadly “no-man’s lands”. I was awed by the possibilities...and tremendously proud. It was brilliant, both in concept and in execution.

“Our prep teams had cleared out runners for over a mile around Winchester, although there were very few creatures in the area who actually posed a threat, most being so emaciated that they could do no more than hiss and crawl.”

“But somehow, hundreds, maybe over a thousand, very active runners survived in that arena, probably
people tragically trapped at some game or show during the epidemic. There may have been many thousands at one time. They must have cannibalized one another to stay so strong, but we don’t really know. What we do know is that once our boys began the dynamite phase of demolition, someone opened the arena gates and unleashed that mob, and it headed straight for Marshall and our crew. Someone had been waiting for that opportunity.” Scottie stopped to consider her own words for a moment. “We have made a few enemies along the way, that’s for sure.

“We had seventeen people there, Nicki; only Marshall and two others made it home. There was no way to defend against such a horde, even though they tried. When his perimeter was breached, Marshall made straight for Cromwell castle, which is where I was located at the time, and the nearest retreat from Winchester.

“When I heard his distress call, part of which you picked up in Hedley, I knew there was no way that Marshall was going to make it through our gates. He was hours away by foot, and the one vehicle he was using had not been refueled and could not make it all the way from Winchester to Cromwell; nevertheless, the diesel truck did buy him distance and time. Ah...what a mess. Runner’s are so fast...” Scottie sat back; the memory seemed to exhaust her.

“Within fifteen minutes of Marshall Kellogg’s call we were out the gates of Cromwell, twenty strong and
loaded down with weapons, ammunition, explosives and air horns. We remained in radio contact. We knew approximately when his fuel would run out and where we would meet after that on foot.”

“I wanted a tight avenue between tall buildings through which Marshall would pass, something my navigator had no trouble locating. My thought was to squeeze the runners into a tight path, and then use the air horns to coerce them into increasingly constricted passageways where their numbers could not overwhelm us.”

“Something like the Spartans at Thermopylae,” I mused.

“The same principle, yeah, although the similarity did not occur to us at the time.” Scottie noted. “The whole thing worked according to plan, thankfully. We were able to split the horde into two branches, the most massive section getting choked in our kill zone. With guns, Claymore mines and hand grenades, it wasn’t much of a contest, but it was nonetheless a scary, screaming awful mess.” I could visualize the merciless bedlam. Those monsters would never stop until every last one was dead.

“We had expected that some of the creatures would continue after Marshall, so we had a five member team set up to guide him to an upper floor safe area that was easily defended. Once the large group was eliminated, we came up from behind and mopped up what remained of the second group.”

“A few weeks later, Marshall Kellogg started his own, updated philosophy: ‘Never take a knife to a gunfight; and never get into a gunfight with or without a Redstone.’ A bit of a play on words, and a nice compliment. Marshall is quite a character these days.”

Scottie leaned back, her arms folded. “So now, in developing a new facility, we do a better job of clearing our safe zone; we ensure that every vehicle is immediately refueled for an emergency return trip; we rig various, sequential lines of delay - whether runner or human – and have made numerous other improvements. Actually, we are always improving. At regular meetings, everyone has a voice and no idea is belittled; we constantly seek innovation. It’s a philosophy that works well in this environment. Everyone has a stake in our success, and all are motivated to help.”

Impressive. I marveled at my sister - and who she had become
.

Eventually, the conversation drifted to the real reason for my presence in Florida.

“Everyone here follows your story, Nicki. We’ve been expecting you; I figured you would come here first, before any diversion.” Scottie began. “Most travelers pass on some rumor or gossip. Of course, radio traffic brought news about you every day, but mostly unreliable stuff. It’s interesting, though; you
seemed to be everywhere - Oregon. Japan. A submarine. Area 51. Quite the traveler. You and your famous Sioux friend.”

“Brick Charbonneau,” I interjected.

“Yes, and Ben. Heroic. Your radio presentation was a heart-stopper for all of us. When announcements of your presence along southern roads became frequent, we all realized that you probably were indeed getting close to Florida. That you would end up in the vicinity of our family homestead seemed the most logical point destination. I’d say we made it just in time.” A reference to the near disaster at our old home. I briefly wondered how much she had witnessed.

“Then you know that Grampa, Gramma and Kip are doing great, waiting for us in Oregon.” I interjected.

“Yes, of course.” Scottie replied, “But I’m not sure I’m going there. Not yet. I have a lot going on here.”

Then, in a softer tone she said, “We are daddy’s legacy now, you and I.”

My heart sank once again. “Tell me.”

“We’ve been luckier than most, Nicki,” Scottie continued, “Think about it. How many millions – billions – were wiped out, yet we have more than our share of surviving loved ones. Something to ponder.” I nodded, acknowledging the concept.

“So many bad things happened when the world fell apart... You should have been here, Nicki. I needed you.” My heart was breaking when she said those words, as she unintentionally stroked her wounded eye.
She was one of the very few people who could really hurt me.

“It’s a long, awful story...but they all are, I suppose. Daddy trained us well, don’t you think.” Scottie paused a second to consider, “How did he know?”

I looked at my sister, scarred and damaged, just like me, physically, mentally. Her body was tight and muscular, hardened in the toughest times imaginable. She was unmistakeably my twin, but the determined fire that burned in her eyes lacked warmth; there was strength without compassion. I wondered if the gentle sister I once knew was lost forever, or was it deep inside of her, hidden in a hard, grim nature, carefully protected by Vulcan’s dark armor.

At that precise moment I thought of my grandmother, gentle yet strong. Those moments when she would hold her twins close. We needed her comforting arms now, reassuring and calm.

“Tell me what happened...and about Tara, and our niece,” I prodded calmly, preparing myself. I noticed that Scottie wore my father’s dog tags.

“Je ne sais pas.”
Scottie shrugged slightly. “Tara took Megan on a big cruise right before things really fell apart. That ship never returned, and we have been unable to find a trace of either of them. Every search, every rumor, every clue has been a dead end. I had messages dropped off at every possible place that they might stop. Hundreds maybe.” Scottie paused, revealing small frustration; then looked me firmly in the
eye, “I never give up, Nicki...ever. Not on anything. Not until it is forced upon me.”

I pondered the emphasized meaning of her words. She was much like me, my twin, and it made me proud, and a little afraid for her. I also considered the cruise that Tara and her daughter had boarded, the frightening memory of a listing cruise liner filled with the damned that Brick and I had sailed past off the coast of Oregon while in the company of our skipper, Gus. I had to push the awful memory from my mind, believing – as did Scottie – that one day we would find our beloved sister and niece.
What had Gus said about a cruise ship he’d passed in the Gulf?

“Our parents,” Scottie resumed with a stone face, struggling nonetheless, “...everything happened so fast. You were in Phoenix, this we knew; Tara was on a cruise...we were all scattered with no real plan of action. God...how could anyone have had a plan?”

“Mom was desperate to get to Quebec for our aunts and uncles there. Nicki, no one even guessed how bad it would get, you know?” I nodded.

She closed her eyes for a moment. “We were at the airport when things...just...went...insane...”

“First, screaming and yelling, both women
and
men, which was really unnerving; commotion coming from the arriving flights tram area. Then gunfire. Daddy told us to run for our car in the parking lot. “Stay calm; stay focused, no matter what happens,” he said. It was absolutely berserk pandemonium in all directions.
People were down on the ground everywhere, crying, bleeding. Almost without stopping, Daddy grabbed a gun and spare clip from an unconscious policeman. A mob was after us, a crazy look in their eyes. Runners? Yeah, but who knew what runners were then?”

My heart was in my throat; I almost could not bear to hear the rest.

“We made it to the concrete stairs that led up to our parking level when they hit. God, so fast! We made it up four floors. Daddy kicking them back, yelling at us to run... RUN!... DON’T LOOK BACK!

And we ran!

“They kept coming. I could hear gunfire, but did not look back.” Scottie was reliving the moment, trembling slightly with fresh adrenalin.

“In the car - start the engine - panic - GO! GO! GO! We burned our tires as I ripped around to pick up daddy. Nicki...Nicki...Nicki... They were all over him! Dozens. Dead and dying all around. He saw us. He looked at me... moved towards us. Another car... panic... smashing into him. He did not try to dodge it; he just stood there holding creatures with each arm. Over the rail, pavement forty feet below. Then he was gone...his body below, so small and alone...” Her eyes closed, squeezing out small tears, then softly, “I know he did it for us, but knowing that does not help...”

“I could not save him, Nicki...I could not save him... I still feel the guilt. I keep thinking, maybe I should have driven into that mob. I know we would
have all died, but...but...I cannot escape it... I could have done better...”

Then Scottie broke down and wept...so did I. We cried as we had never cried before, in each others’ arms. Inconsolable in our grief; unforgivable in our failure. We were trained for moments like that, but at that most important moment, neither of us was ready, and one of us was not even there. We had both saved so many, but could not save our own.

Scottie sat back and slowly composed herself to continue, “Mom and I made it home. She could no longer comprehend English; even in French she was confused and withdrawn. It was all craziness. We were in shock. The world was ending fast. Mom was failing, I could see it, declining emotionally, physically. I had to be strong for her.”

“Flynn was a hero, forcing me into action, to become the machine that our father wanted, but I could do nothing for our sweet mother. Her life force waned, and within two weeks she had passed.”

Scottie paused, then, “Doomsday had arrived. Later, I returned to the site of our father’s death and found only his bloody jacket. I buried it next to mom...at home.”

My sister and I embraced again, using our bond and our strength to dull the emotions of the living nightmare that had become our existence.