15 Miles From Home (Perilous Miles Book 2) Page 10
Damon sat up a bit straighter. "Of course, General. Is everything okay?"
"No, everything most certainly is not okay, Major." Charles proceeded to tell Damon everything that had transpired that morning up to that point. Damon listened without comment until Everley paused after the part about the president's plans. Seeing an opening, he spoke up.
"He can't do that, can he, Sir? Repeal the Second Amendment? Stay in office when his term is up? I mean, this is America, for Christ's sake, not some socialist country." Damon didn't attempt to hide the shock in his voice. "Seriously, this is insane! We have to do something!"
Everley let a small smile show on his face. "I was hoping you'd feel that way, Damon." He continued his narrative with the meeting with Roman and what they had discussed. "So, now that you know, I need to ask a favor of you."
"Of course, I'll go to New York and find Mr. Tanner," Damon said before Charles could put the request into words. "All I need is a working vehicle and thirty minutes to get home and pack a bag. Depending on how jammed up the roads are, I can be there before dark."
Charles nodded. "Good. I'll have a Humvee waiting out front when you leave. Get me the motor pool on the line."
Damon hesitated. "Uh, we don't have phones, Sir."
"Dammit! Fine, I'll walk you down to the motor pool."
Damon stood. "Yes, Sir. Is there anything else?"
"Yes, draw up a letter from me to whom it may concern giving you access to any facility you need, military or civilian. Olstein is enacting martial law and I don't want you caught up in any of that bullshit. You'll have to handwrite it so make it quick. And Major?"
Damon had turned to head for the door but stopped at the utterance of his title. "Sir?"
"I'm serious about no one knowing why you're going to New York. If Olstein finds out, I'm sure he'll try to stop you."
Solemnly, Damon replied, "I understand, Sir. Don't worry. I've got this."
He went to his desk and pulled a blank piece of paper from the printer. Staring at it, he began to compose the message in his head beforehand. Once he had a good idea of what it needed to say, he started to write.
From the office of General Charles Everley, Chief of Staff of the Army
To Whom It May Concern:
The bearer of this missive, Major Damon Sorley, has unlimited authority to enter any facility, military or civilian, in pursuit of his assigned mission. He is not at liberty to share the details of this mission but know that it is of the utmost importance and vital to national security, so it is imperative that he be allowed to continue unfettered to complete said mission. Any attempt to detain him shall be met with the full force of this office and dealt with most harshly.
Any questions should be directed to my office.
Sincerely,
General Charles Everley
Chief of Staff of the Army
Short but sweet, that's how the general liked his memos. Damon had never drafted one without a template from the server to start with, and he had never written one for this precise situation before, but he thought this would suffice. He picked it up, walked to the general's door, and knocked.
"Come in, Major," Charles called out.
He walked in and without saying anything laid the memo on the general's desk. Everley looked it over, smiled, and signed it with a flourish. "Perfect. Exactly what I wanted to say but much more professionally than I would have said it. Now, let's go get you a ride. The sooner you get on your way, the sooner you can get back here, hopefully with someone who can do something to stop this insanity."
True to his word, thirty minutes later Damon was on his way to New York. He had packed another uniform and two sets of civilian clothes in his small duffel bag and picked up his service-issued Sig P320 and personal side arm, a Beretta 92FS, both chambered in nine-millimeter. The Beretta was identical to his previous service pistol, the M9, and he was very comfortable with it. He also had an AK wrapped in a large sweatshirt and 500 rounds of ammo for the guns in his duffel. The Sig was in a holster at his side, the Beretta under the seat. He had also grabbed a bag of chips, a couple of apples, and a six-pack of water from his place. He hoped this early in the event he could get there and back without any trouble, but he wasn't taking any chances, thus the guns. With no other cars moving on the streets, outside of the occasional military vehicle, he was through the district in minutes. Getting on I-95, he headed north.
Chapter 13
The closer they got to the first real exit of any kind, the fewer people Will and Amanda found still with their vehicles. Apparently, seeing signs on the ramp for food, gas, and lodging had prompted the occupants of the now empty cars and trucks to attempt to make it to shelter, or at least some semblance of services. They passed a couple of cars whose inhabitants appeared to be asleep. At least, that's what Will was hoping they were doing. He wasn't entirely sure how long it would take a person to freeze to death in a car, but with temperatures in the upper twenties and most people without proper clothing, or even blankets, he wouldn't have been surprised to find out some of those caught on the road had already died. Having not worn a watch for many years, because his phone told him the time when he needed to know, he had no idea what time it was. He was guessing it was about noon, which would put these people out in the elements with no protection or way to stay warm for about eight hours.
Amanda seemed to be thinking along the same lines. She peered into the driver's window of a small sedan where a senior-aged woman appeared to be sleeping with her head against the window of the door. She turned to Will and asked quietly, "Should we check on her?"
Will took in the woman's appearance. She looked quite pale, almost blue. He shook his head as he continued down the road. "There's nothing we can do for her either way, Amanda. If she's just sleeping, we can't make her any more comfortable or bring her with us. If she's gone, she's gone. We're almost to the ramp. We're about five miles from my mom and dad. Let's just keep moving."
Dejectedly, Amanda fell into step beside Will. They walked along in silence, both apparently lost in their own thoughts. As they got to the bottom of the ramp, Will stopped and turned to her. "You do know that I hate not being able to help anyone as much as you do, right? I'm pretty sure that woman was dead. She wasn't dressed for this weather. She may have had a heart condition or even a heart attack. Knowing for sure wasn't going to help her or us. It totally sucks, but I don't know what else to do except to keep going until I get home. Are you cool with that?"
She hesitated a moment, long enough for Will to second-guess himself on saying anything to her about the situation. Then, with a slight inclination of her head, she replied, "I get it, Will. I hate it, but I get it. You're right — there probably wasn't anything we could do for her. I just feel so selfish, you know? I didn't plan for this either, but, luckily, I have what I need to get somewhere safe … well, safer than my car on a lonely stretch of highway. She didn't have anything, barely a winter coat. How does that saying go? There but for the grace of God, go I …"
Will nodded. "Yep, I've been thinking along those lines myself. This winter storm made me pack differently than I normally would for a trip home. Any other time, I wouldn't have had these boots, extra layers of clothing, any of those things. And if it had happened an hour earlier, the chance of me making it home would've been a whole lot less. I really feel like I'm supposed to get there, and honestly that's all I can think about right now."
With a small smile, Amanda replied, "Then let's get there."
Will returned her smile and headed up the ramp.
Had he been driving, Will would not have gotten off the interstate on the Highway 64 exit. There was so much traffic in that area that it actually took him longer to get to his parents' house from there than going on down to Appling Road. On foot, however, he would cut a few miles off of his journey by taking the earlier exit. At least, that's what he hoped.
Lauri and Joel lived on Olive Street, in an area of Bartlett that hadn't yet been gobbled up by d
evelopers. Older homes with large yards and houses not on top of each other comprised their neighborhood. There was a small park just down the street, but it was across 4th Avenue. The Chambers lived on the south side of 4th where Olive Street ended. Will would have to travel Highway 64 until he got to Appling Road, which he would take north to the area his parents and sister lived in. Carly lived a couple of miles further on Pecanhill Drive. He still had a way to go, but just being off the interstate made him feel like he was making progress.
He was in no way prepared for the sight that greeted them when they got on Stage Road, otherwise known as Highway 64. A busy area in the best situation, there were people everywhere, except they were all on foot. They were in various stages of dress, from pajamas with a winter coat over them, to full-on heavy hunting gear. His best guess as to the cause was the Walmart located just past the exit. As they approached the Walmart parking lot, the sounds of angry, impatient people grew louder, along with the sound of heavy objects hitting glass. He took Amanda by the arm and quickly ushered her across the street.
"What? What is it?" she asked anxiously.
"Just trying to avoid what is fast approaching an ugly situation over there," Will said, indicating the large store across the street from them now.
Amanda looked over to see what Will was referring to. "Oh, wow! That is getting ugly. What's going on?"
Will continued on, picking up the pace a bit. "My guess is desperate people trying to get things with credit cards that don't work and checks that will not be accepted because they can't be verified. Most people don't carry cash, just like you. Not only that, the managers probably won't let people in the store because they can't watch everybody — no security cameras now. Unfortunately, the mob will surely win and somebody's going to get hurt. Let's make sure it isn't us."
At the sound of multiple voices raised in triumph, they stopped for a moment and looked across the street. The glass front of the store had finally shattered. People were streaming in, with no regard for anyone around them. They watched in shock as men, women, and children were trampled in the mad rush of the mob to enter the store.
"Oh my God! Did you see that?" Amanda exclaimed.
Taking her arm again, facing forward, Will continued down the sidewalk. "Yes, that's what I was afraid of. Just keep moving. We need to get out of here, fast."
They weren't out of the woods though. Along with multiple restaurants and car dealerships, entrances to Wolfchase Galleria were there as well. Once they had passed Walmart, Will took them back across the street, away from Wolfchase, which had its own share of people around the outside of it, voices raised in protest of the locked doors. Now on the same side of the street as Lowe's, raised voices seemed to be coming at them from all directions. The home improvement store would've been a likely choice for things such as generators to power homes suddenly without power. Yet, it would be the same scenario there as anywhere else. In the modern world, everything was digital, including currency. People with bank accounts of four and five figures became indignant when they had no access to it. Worst of all, large chain stores had no protocol for how to operate without electricity.
"We're what, eight, ten hours into this? Can you imagine what this area is going to be like by nightfall if this goes on?" Amanda commented, awestruck at the way the people were acting.
"Unfortunately, yes, I can, and we don't want to be anywhere near this place then." Will picked up the pace yet again, especially as they approached Target, which was a very similar scene to what had happened at Walmart, except the mob had already broken through the doors and people were running out with baskets of goods, many of which would not work now. Large TVs, coffee makers, and microwaves were pointless, but the mob didn't get that yet. Once they got past the store, they didn't have far to go to reach Appling Road. Except they didn't quite make it without being accosted.
"Hey, you! Chick with the big backpack! Where'd you get that?" a man yelled at them from across the street.
Will said under his breath, "Just ignore him. Keep walking."
Amanda did as he said and continued on without replying to the man. However, the stranger would not be so easily dismissed.
"Hey! I'm talking to you!" the man said as he started across the street toward them.
The visions of people attacking others vivid in his memory, Will stepped in front of Amanda, putting himself between her and the stranger. "We don't want any trouble. We're just trying to get home."
"Then answer my damn question — where'd you get the big backpack?" The stranger replied belligerently.
Amanda started to reply, but Will interrupted her. "We had these supplies with us when we got stranded on the interstate. We didn't get them anywhere. We already had them. We've been walking a long time and we just want to get home. We're going to be on our way now."
The stranger stopped in the middle of the street, eying both of them. Will took the opportunity to turn to Amanda and, with a brief indication of his head, direct her to continue down the street.
Once they were out of earshot of the stranger, who was still staring at them from the middle of the road, Amanda asked, "What was that all about? You cut me off and didn't let me speak for myself. I'm fully capable of handling a situation like that on my own."
He knew this was coming. How was he going to explain to her the dangers they would be facing in the next days, weeks, months, probably longer, if his visions were coming true? How could he make her understand how perilous their lives would become very soon without telling her how he knew that? He still wasn't ready to tell her about that part of himself, not yet anyway. Instead, he tried to make light of it.
"I'm sorry, I'm sure you can take care of yourself. I guess it's just the Southern gentleman ingrained in me to protect the damsel in distress," he replied sheepishly, still not ready to share his gift, or curse, depending on how you looked at it, with her.
She smirked at him. "Oh, I see how it is now. I'm a damsel in distress and you're here to save me."
He grinned at her and said, "Maybe more like protect you from yourself. Seriously though, that could've gone bad fast and just the wrong word or tone could have set him off. We should try really hard not to interact with anybody unless we absolutely have to. These people are going to get more and more worked up as the day goes on. Thankfully, we don't have a lot more retail real estate to deal with before we get to the burbs. So, are you done being mad at me?"
"I guess I'll have to be," she said with a make-believe heavy sigh.
"Thank you, because we're just two or three miles from my parents' house. We should be there in an hour, two tops, depending on how clogged the roads are."
"What difference will that make? We'll be on the sidewalk," Amanda replied.
"Not while we're going down Appling Road we won't. That's mostly industrial property up through there, no need for sidewalks. Add to that it's Sunday morning, so there probably hasn't been a lot of traffic on it either. I expect the road to be ice. We'll have to take our time and be careful," Will said. "The upside is there shouldn't be a lot of people out and about on that section, at least not until we get up by the police department and Kroger on Summer Avenue, which will probably be a nightmare, too. We'll worry about that one when we get there. Let's get going."
Performing a pretend curtsy with a pretend dress, Amanda said, "Lead the way, Southern gentleman."
Will chuckled as he headed down the sidewalk. "Smart ass."
Chapter 14
Joel stamped his feet on the front porch trying to knock as much snow off as he could before he went into the house. He walked in and hung his coat on the knob of the closet door in the entryway. He had a feeling he would be needing it quite a bit as the day went on, so he didn't bother to hang it up inside. As he walked into the living room, he saw Carly sitting by the fire drying her hair. "How did your hair get wet?" he asked, confused.
"Oh, I didn't get to take a shower this morning at my house, so I just grabbed one here," she replied.
"I felt pretty grungy from riding in that trailer. I feel much better now."
Voice full of frustration, Joel barked, "You do realize that the water in that tank is a precious commodity now, right?"
Lauri came in from the kitchen at the sound of her husband's raised voice. She took in her daughter's chastened face and her husband's red one. "What's wrong?"
"Your daughter just helped herself to the last hot shower any of us will likely have for a while," Joel said. "Probably half of the forty gallons of water in the tank, too."
Carly looked crestfallen. "I'm sorry, Dad, I didn't think …"
"No, you didn't think. Our water heater is electric. Our stove is electric. Everything in this place is electric except for that wood-burning fireplace you're sitting in front of. I don't know how else to explain this to you so that you will understand. Unless I'm wrong about what this is, everything is going to stop working, including the water. We need to save as much as we can until your brother gets here and we decide what we're going to do."
"What do you mean decide what we're going to do? I thought we were going to Elliott's, where the boys are." Carly looked at her father stubbornly. "If that's not your plan, Dad, let me know now because it is mine. I have to get to my sons. If you're not going, I'll figure out a way to get there by myself. I'm sure I can get Will to go with me."
Joel shook his head and replied, "That is not what I meant. Of course, we're going to try to get to Aaron and Cameron. I just haven't figured out how yet. And we're not doing anything until your brother has a chance to get home. Agreed?"
Lips pressed together tightly for moment, Carly gave her father a curt nod. "Agreed. And I am sorry about the shower. I'm still having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that this isn't just a power outage. I mean, are you absolutely sure that's not what this is, Dad?"