Toward the Brink (Book 3) (11 page)

“Thanks, baby, now you get yourself back inside the bus!” he hollered over the motors.

Elliot allowed the Hummer to pull in behind the motor home as the Tall Man twisted in his seat.

“Okay, let’s just have a look, shall we?” He raised the binoculars to his eyes and looked out the back window to the car following them. It had begun to play on his mind that a car would appear from nowhere and follow them. It had to be someone who knew them or knew of them, and there was only one such living person.

Richard Holmes.

“What can you see, Chuck? Who is it?”

“I can’t tell. Whoever it is has the sun visor down, and he’s way back in the seat. But it is a he, I can assure you of that.”

Fuck!
The Tall Man pursed his lips. It had to be Holmes, he knew it, but he needed confirmation. He couldn’t afford to stop now, not when they were less than three hours from Prince Rupert. With a bit of luck, they might get there before it was totally dark.

The Hummer drove the final leg of their exodus in the rear. The Tall Man wanted to keep a watchful eye on the car that followed them.

Darkness was almost upon them as they entered Prince Rupert. The smell of the sea filtered into their vehicles, as did the cold. The fresh smell was a relief from the smoke-filled air they’d been used to.

“David’s trying to get our attention, I think.” Elliot saw the brake lights on the bus pump several times rapidly.

“Okay, get alongside,” the Tall Man said to Elliot. “But I think we might have to stop.”

“
W
hat’s the plan
?”

Just outside of Prince Rupert on the highway that looked down into the town, David had pulled the bus over, and Elliot and Mulhaven had pulled up behind. Tristan parked the Ram 3500 sideways so he could protect the vehicles ahead if any attack came from behind. That was the theory, anyway.

“It’s dark, I know, but I think we should keep going. It’s so damn cold that if there are any foamers out, I’m sure they’d freeze to … Well, they’d freeze.” The Tall Man was about to say “freeze to death,” but corrected himself.

Mulhaven and Kath zipped up their jackets and parkas as they came up from behind.

“Chuck, put these on.” Kath handed him some gloves and a woolen ski mask.

“The temperatures dropped so quickly, Chuck. We need to get indoors or we’ll freeze before much longer,” Mulhaven said.

“He’s right, Chuck. We can’t continue on, not in this weather, in the dark, and we couldn’t possibly go out to sea unless it was a large ship. We need shelter and warmth.” Kath put her arms around the Tall Man’s waist, partly because she loved him and desperately wanted to hold him, and partly because she was so cold.

“Well, it appears I’m outvoted,” The Tall Man said, “but it would be nice to get warm. We’ll get to test Tom’s theory that the foamers can’t survive in such cold temperatures.”

Tom Transky arrived in time to hear his name mentioned. “Listen,” he said, his voice hushed. “Do you hear it?”

“Hear what? I can’t hear anything.”

“Exactly, Elliot, exactly. If there were foamers wandering about, we would hear some commotion, don’t you think?”

“Well, maybe you were right, Tom.” Bob added, “But of course, I knew you would be.”

“Okay, while we still have this tiny sliver of light, let’s find some shelter.” The Tall Man hurried them along.

“There are beds in the motor home, and the bus is a fair size. Maybe we—”

“Kath,” the Tall Man countered, “there is nowhere near the room for everyone—unless you want to stand.” He grabbed Kath’s nose between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a little tweak. “Besides, I don’t like the safety factor, or lack of it. We need to get inside somewhere.”

“You’re right. I’m just tired and cold and thought the opportunity to take a rest here might help, you know?”

“We’ll find something, I’m—”

Before he could finish, David called out from near the front of the bus. “Look, everyone, look!”

The group’s immediate thought was foamers. They jumped and turned in the direction of David’s voice; those who had handguns drew them.

“In the headlights, look, it’s snow.”

They breathed a collective sigh, and a huge weight slid to the ground. The snow presented a potential danger as well as a solution. The yin and yang principle at work.

It was preferable to the foamers, in any case.

“Let’s hope it covers the rest of the province and puts those fires to rest.”

“We don’t want it that heavy just yet, Kath.”

“Why? Don’t you want the fires out?”

“Yes, of course, but
we
don’t want to get buried in snow before we get to the island.” He rested his large hands on her shoulders. “It won’t to be easy to find warm accommodations for all of us, and it’ll be even harder if we’re snowed in. Just setting up the wind turbine in this weather could take many days instead of hours, and we could freeze long before then. Do you know what I mean?”

She did—she fully understood what he meant. She had lived in Canada for many years, and as savvy as she was with her survival skills and preparedness, she had little practical experience; there had never been a need for it. The Tall Man, on the other hand, had all the knowledge in both theory and
practice
. He was the embodiment of the,
been there done that
dude. Because he had.

“As much as I’d like to press on and get there, I do think it’s too dangerous. We have to find somewhere to spend the night,” he reiterated.

“We need to be sure it’s safe, Chuck.”

The Tall Man knew that, but whether they froze to death or were shredded by foamers, dead was dead. He looked over Kath’s head—which was easy for him—and saw a sign in the edge of the Hummer’s headlights pointing to a bed and breakfast just down the street.

“There!” He pointed to the sign.

W
ith their concern
over the drop in temperature, the dark, and the possibility of foamers, they’d all but forgotten the car that had followed since they left Prince George. But in the distance with the lights off, Richard Holmes brought his vehicle to a slow stop, where he had a full view of the roadside gathering of his “friends.”

“A discussion on whether to proceed or rest up for the night, I gather,” he said aloud—there was no one but himself to talk to.

Holmes had become somewhat concerned himself in the last few miles. As darkness crept in, he felt the increase in the cold, too. He didn’t know how he would handle the circumstances he found himself in. He doubted he could find a boat in the dark and take it to Graham Island, and he couldn’t very well bum a ride with the group from Prince George.

Just what would he say?
Hi, it’s Rich. You remember me, don’t you? Mind if I tag along?

That would guarantee him a bullet in the head from Mr. Black, of that he could be certain. His other, more immediate, concern would be to find adequate lodging for the night without attracting the attention of foamers or those he had followed. And what were they to do? He had no choice but to sit and watch; he’d have to spend the night in the car with the heater going. he couldn’t afford to take the chance that he might fall asleep inside a house or store and miss their exit—not after all this time spent following them. He would think of a plan. He wasn’t sure how he would get himself to the island, but for now, he’d sit it out.

“It’s not like I have much choice, is it?”

Mmm, choices. The one thing we collectively don’t have anymore—those of us still alive, at any rate.

Holmes apparently had forgotten or had ceased to care that he was a main player in causing this situation.

C
hess
, Tristan, and two of the Secret Service agents went to cover the back door of the bed and breakfast while the Tall Man, Elliot, and two other agents covered the front. Mulhaven and the other soldiers from the Globemaster formed a wall around their four vehicles on the road, protecting the occupants inside.

“You know, I don’t think there are any foamers about, Chuck,” Elliot whispered as he placed one careful foot after the other to edge closer to the front door.

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s just my opinion. Though this town isn’t the size of Prince George, it doesn’t look like a battlefield. There are no bodies scattered about the streets, and neither is there a smell of decay about, y’know what I mean?”

The Tall Man took a quick look around him. He hadn’t noted any of that before, but now that Elliot had mentioned it …

“There’s one other thing,” he noticed. “Windows—they’re all intact. Terrace, Vanderhoof, some of the other towns we passed through, all had broken windows—and, of course, foamers.”

“Maybe we can all get a good night’s rest before we head out in the morning.”

“That’d be good, Elliot, but let’s check this place out first. Ready?”

Elliot answered with a thumbs up sign, and the Tall Man nodded to the agent by the door.

The agent reached over and turned the handle as easily as he could. There was a chance that it could be locked. The Tall Man would normally have kicked the door in, but that would telegraph their presence to whoever or whatever might be inside, and he didn’t want that. Besides, with this weather, they didn’t need any open entrances. Once it was established the door wasn’t locked, the agent pushed it open and darted back to the side to allow the Tall Man and the other agent to swoop in. Both men were armed with shotguns; in the confines of a building in the dark, a pump action would do the required job. The Tall Man and the agent nestled their backs against wall of what they assumed was the lobby area and listened intently for a few moments for any sounds other than their own heavy breathing. With no indication of movement, the Tall Man called for Elliot and the other agent.

“Okay, it’s okay to come in.” He kept his voice low.

“What now?” Elliot asked as he took a position near the front counter—not that he could tell in the dark.

A stale smell permeated the building like it had been closed up for months, but they knew that wasn’t the case. As their eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, they noticed there had been no disturbance inside, judging by the state of the furniture.

“Give Mulhaven the signal. When he arrives, we’ll do a room to room.”

Elliot gave two short bursts followed by one long one from his flashlight, and Mulhaven and one of the soldiers came forward and took a position at the open door. No one was about to come from behind while they conducted their search.

“We’re good,” Mulhaven hissed from out front.

With the confirmation that Mulhaven was in place, the Tall Man began his search. He wanted to get this done ASAP, but years of experience had taught him that you never rush through things like this—not when lives depended on your actions.

Elliot fanned the flashlight around the interior of the B&B. There was a hallway to one side that led to about ten rooms, five on each side. And behind the front counter was a TV lounge area with two restrooms and the kitchen attached.

“Check this first.” The Tall Man pointed his smaller flashlight at the TV room. From the doorway, Elliot swept the light over every part of the room three times. Then they took the men’s restroom.

“You’re with me on this one, Elliot.”

Elliot didn’t answer the Tall Man; he knew why. The restroom would be too small for shotguns and rifles, especially if you needed to bring one out in a hurry. The Tall Man and Elliot carried .357 and .44 Magnum handguns, and those weapons came with a warranty that they would send any foamer back to the land of the permanent dead—at least in the Tall Man’s mind, they did.

Both hoped they wouldn’t have to fire; the sound of a Magnum inside a small, tiled room would be devastating on the eardrums. With guns in hand, they barged into the men’s room and for a moment were unable to breathe.

“Wait,” Elliot called when he saw the Tall Man raise his Desert Eagle. “It’s a coat, a
coat!
”

The beams of their flashlights picked up an old, dark coat hanging over the paper towel dispenser.

“Damn, I was just about to …”

“Yeah, I know, and we wouldn’t have heard anything for days.”

They exchanged a small chuckle before they checked the restroom and found it was clear. The women’s restroom and the kitchen were in the same condition: clear. Elliot seemed to be right with his hunch, the Tall Man thought, but it was still too early to be sure. The Tall Man began to doubt that foamers lay in wait inside the guest rooms ready to pounce like murderous werewolves. The rooms had to be checked, nonetheless.

In two teams—two outside the door while two searched inside—they managed to determine the rooms were clear. Judging by the clothes and personal items, the occupants had left in a hurry. The thought of them having the wherewithal and knowledge to escape to an island crossed the Tall Man’s mind. It probably wasn’t that farfetched a plan for a community here on the coast. There were several islands nearby, and he hoped it wasn’t Graham Island they went to, if they indeed had evacuated. He knew it would be impossible to assure their own survival, let alone the survival of others. The more of them there were, the harder it would be.

“Let’s get everyone inside before they freeze out there!”

“Right, I’ll tell Riley,” Elliot answered the Tall Man while one of the agents went to inform Chess and the team at the rear door.

While it was possible that the bed and breakfast had a generator somewhere outside, it was too dark and cold to contemplate a search for it. They would be out of the elements, and there were enough blankets to keep them for the night.

H
olmes watched
from a safe distance as the group he had followed for the last few hours unloaded from the bus and motor home. He assumed, correctly, there would be no power inside the B&B, but it still looked warmer than the inside of his car. His main worry was that he would run out of gas and be unable to generate enough heat to keep him alive. Though it was completely dark now, he could tell the road was covered in several inches of snow already. The snowfall remained light, but if it got any heavier, that would cause concern. Holmes had much the same attitude as the man he knew as Charles Black—as a matter of fact, they were very much alike, it was only their considerations that were different. He would deal with the problem when it arose and not before. As he would the question of how he would get to Graham Island; he didn’t care if he was noticed, as long as he wasn’t challenged.