Lost: Deluge Book 5: (A Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Story) Read online

  “What d’you think they’ll do with us?”

  Ellie shrugged. “No idea. But Lee was right, they’re obviously suspicious of anyone coming from the east. Just remember the story, okay? And whatever you do, don’t mention Denver. Got it?”

  “Fosho. But keep your voice down, he might be listening at the door!”

  “No chance. That kind of mommy’s boy doesn’t want to hear what’s going on in a women’s bathroom!”

  She followed Jodi to the door and, sure enough, the sergeant was standing exactly where he’d been when they’d gone in.

  He pointed back at the interview room, and when they went inside, they found a woman waiting for them. She wore combat fatigues with a single silver bar on her collar.

  “I am Lieutenant Poole, and I will be conducting this interview. Be aware that we are recording. The purpose of the interview is to determine your future status. Now, is there anything you wish to place on record before we commence?”

  Ellie and Jodi shook their heads.

  “Sergeant, you are dismissed. Campos here will remain.”

  The sergeant snapped a salute. “Yes sir. Before I go, might I be permitted to enter evidence into the record?”

  The lieutenant, a trim woman of Ellie’s age, looked at him, surprised. “Go ahead, Sergeant.”

  To Ellie’s horror, Sergeant Shepperd pulled a cellphone out of his inside pocket and after swiping and tapping, she heard her own echoey voice fill the room.

  “Just remember the story, okay? And whatever you do, don’t mention Denver. Got it?”

  Chapter 3

  North

  Buzz, who’d been trudging along, head down as he rubbed his fingers together inside his pants pockets, looked up at the call.

  “Movement.”

  Luong Thi Yen held her arm up straight as she crouched, then pointed ahead.

  Ted Pope moved up from his position at the rear, his boots crunching in the slushy snow, and kneeled beside her. “Under the bridge?”

  She nodded. “At least three. Maybe armed.”

  “What are they doing there? I mean, it’s almost as exposed as we are,” Buzz said. He was well aware that his contributions were, in general, as useful as a pop-up toaster in a swimming pool, but he couldn’t help himself. He was a scientist and he had to understand.

  Pope sighed, emitting a cloud of fog into the frigid air. “This is one of the main routes into and out of Springfield. Mind, they must be desperate—we haven’t seen any movement along here, after all.”

  “They have a fire out of sight, I think,” Yen said. “Perhaps we see what else they have?”

  Pope shook his head. “No, too risky. We’ll go around them.”

  “Quicker to go straight along the road.”

  “Only if we survive it. We don’t know how many there are, but there’s only two of us.”

  “Nice,” Buzz said.

  Pope grunted. “Don’t wet your diaper, Buzz. Our job is to get you to Chicago safely. Leave that to us, will you? Now, let’s get off the highway before they see us.”

  Yen muttered something in Vietnamese, but followed the heavyset Pope as he trotted off the road toward a small white-wood church, skirting around the back.

  Buzz grabbed Max’s arm and guided him after the other two as they picked a way along a fence that ran behind the little church, taking them out of view of the bridge.

  “Ted, we need to stop. Why not here?”

  Pope swung around. “We agreed to keep moving until nightfall.”

  “I know. But Max is…” He gestured helplessly at the young man.

  Sighing, Pope ran a gloved hand down his face as, right on cue, snow began to fall out of a darkening sky. “We’re too close to the bridge. They might reconnoiter out this far.”

  “I do not think so,” Yen said. “I think they’ll hide under the bridge. No fire though, if we stay here.”

  Buzz groaned and nodded. “Let’s get inside.”

  They rounded the back of the church and found a door that led into the parking lot.

  “Freedom Gospel Church,” Ted said. “Nice little place.” Then he kicked at the door until it came off his hinges and they could go inside. Pope sniffed the air, checking for any sign there might be dead bodies inside, and nodded. “Smells clear.”

  They made their way into the darkness, feeling their way, with only the dim glow from the narrow windows that lined the walls to help them navigate.

  “You’re in luck,” Ted said, gesturing at an open door. “No windows. If we shut the door, we can warm ourselves up. Once we’ve got the camping stove set up, I’ll check outside to make sure no light escapes. Maybe we can be warm tonight. Well, warmer.”

  Buzz felt a rush of relief. In the days since they’d left the farm, warmth had become currency. He, Ted Pope, Max and their former prisoner Luong Thi Yen had taken the inflatable across the receding water to the high ground that led toward Springfield. Tom had taken the little boat back to the island where he would lead the community while Buzz and the others headed north. Buzz had hugged Jo as he’d left and liked to imagine she was being truthful when she said she would miss him and wished he didn’t have to go. He liked to think that, but didn’t know for sure. His emotional radar was faulty at the best of times, but he could hardly zero in on how he felt, let alone having to interpret her thoughts through the opaque mask of her expressions and body language.

  Fortunately, as soon as they’d set foot on the frozen mud of the high ground that Springfield sat on, Buzz had settled into the single-minded focus that signaled the start of any investigation for him. Aside from the physical challenges of the ever-worsening weather and the many dangers of wandering in a post-apocalyptic landscape, he was coping well.

  Max, on the other hand, wasn’t. He’d been working on the data Buchanan had given them while Buzz had been focusing on exploring the neighboring island in the hope of boosting their supplies. He’d succeeded and now Tom would be leading expeditions into the formerly drowned city of Branson to bring back anything useful that had survived the flood, hopefully extending the length of time the people in the farmhouse could survive. But that could only ever be short term. If the people there—including Jo and the kids—were to have any future, Buzz had to solve the climate mystery. Buzz and Max.

  The young man—it was hard to think of him as anything other than a boy, though he was nineteen—had been torn from the familiar surroundings of the bedroom he worked in at the farm and dragged into the snow. But he would be safer out here than back at the community if Lundberg—or whoever she was working for—sent another team out here. At least, that was the plan.

  Yen shut the door behind Ted, sealing them inside the little office. It had a mahogany table, a leather backed swivel chair and a long shelf stacked with sports trophies. Buzz put the camping stove on the desk and lit it, keeping the gas as low as possible as he put the aluminum pan in place. “Max, open up your laptop.”

  Without a word, the boy did so, adjusting the brightness to minimum.

  “How’s your gadget?”

  Max’s face suddenly became animated and he checked in the corner of the screen. “Fifteen percent,” he said. He pulled a small tube with a wire attached out of his pocket. “Maybe I’ll try it on my legs tomorrow.”

  “What is it?” Yen asked, reaching for it.

  Max put it back. “A kinetic charger. It trickle-charges the laptop battery by transferring some of the energy of my motion. It’s a simple enough principle—similar to a tidal barrage. My movement is transferred to the liquid within the tube and then converted to electrical energy. Inefficiently, but much better than nothing.”

  Even Buzz could see in Yen’s expression that she wished she hadn’t asked, so he interrupted Max. “What do you want to eat?”

  “No eggs?”

  “No eggs, Max. As you know well enough. If we pass a farm, I’ll be sure to ask. I’ve got ramen, beans or a couple of pouches of chicken soup. Take your pick.”

&nb
sp; Buzz’s hand went to the pistol in his pocket as the door opened, but it was only Ted, who squeezed through as narrow a gap as he could manage. “We’re in the clear, as far as I can tell,” he said. “If we keep this door closed then we can stay out of sight.”

  “Ramen,” Max said. “If you got some ketchup.”

  Buzz nodded and poured most of his remaining water supply into the pan, followed by the dry noodles. “Anyone else?”

  In the end, he made ramen for all of them, though he refused Yen’s offer to stir in a teaspoon of tamari sauce. Food was too precious to take any risks. As it was, they were relying on finding some in Springfield.

  Pope took off his coat and settled into the swivel chair with a groan. “It’s warm in here already. Feels good.”

  “Tomorrow, we go into Springfield, right?” Yen asked.

  “We’ve got to. We’re on dry land now, so we ought to stand a chance.”

  Buzz thought back to the copy of Jodi’s map he had stowed in his pack. Springfield was the nearest substantial city to the farmhouse—the nearest that remained above water even after the flood. Not by much, and they’d speculated about what would have happened to the inhabitants in the months after the deluge.

  It seemed to Buzz that they’d either starved, killed each other, or somehow found or built enough boats to get across what was then ocean to dry land in the west. He’d hoped to find some buildings on the margin of the original flood level that they could exploit, but the chances were they’d not find much remaining food.

  What they really wanted was transport. Logically speaking, cars and trucks wouldn’t have been much use after the flood and whatever had happened to the people here, it wouldn’t have involved a lot of fuel. Some generators, certainly, but food would have run out long before the gas. Not to mention water.

  Buzz put his dark thoughts to one side. They knew that at least some people had survived because they’d occasionally seen distant figures moving from place to place, always darting out of sight when they realized they’d been spotted. But they hadn’t yet spoken to a single stranger since landing on the island the previous day.

  Max held up his mug for Buzz to tip in his portion of noodles.

  “You’ll have to put the laptop down,” Buzz said. The instant he’d sat down, the boy genius had been working on his theories. Before leaving the farmhouse, he’d installed a version of Buzz’s xenobot generator and, or so he said, improved it and now he was running simulations to try to work out why the race of bots Buzz had developed had turned the world into a snowball. Buzz had told him that they needed data—and that this was the point of traveling north—but he persisted. Perhaps he hoped that if he somehow cracked the problem, they could cut the journey short.

  They sat and ate in silence, the only sounds being the methodical chewing of people who value every mouthful. They each carried enough rations for around a week if stretched to their limit, but they had no idea how long this was going to take or where they might find food along the way. They had water purifying filters and tablets, but Buzz hoped to find sources that had remained above the surface of the ocean or to use melted snow.

  “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Buzz said when they’d all finished.

  Ted yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Nothing’s changed. I’d like to find some transport to take us as far north as possible. An SUV or truck, something that can handle rough terrain and shallow water.”

  “How about air conditioning and seat warmers while we’re looking?” Buzz said.

  “Funny. But to be honest, I don’t know what we’re going to find once we get into the city itself. I don’t think it’s going to be pretty, though. Best we try to get a little sleep for now. I’ll take first watch.”

  #

  Buzz woke to the sound of movement—soft scuffling on the polished wood floor outside. It was so dark he had to blink twice before he was convinced that he wasn’t blind, holding his hands so close to his eyes he could feel his eyebrows tickling the backs of his fingers.

  There it was again. Vermin? Not of the rodent kind, that was for sure. Though they were trying to be furtive, their movements were far too cumbersome for rats or mice. Buzz wrapped his fingers around the stock of his handgun and tried to make out whether any of the others were moving. What time was it? Who was on watch? With a sickening lurch in his gut, he wondered if it was Max. Good grief, had the boy fallen asleep? Or was it him creeping around outside?

  Buzz groped to the side, searching with his fingers for Pope, who lay next to him. Suddenly, a hand gripped his arm.

  “Quiet!” Pope whispered, his breath tickling Buzz’s ear. “We have visitors.”

  Buzz rolled to face him, sensing his presence as a darker shape in the darkness. “Who’s on guard?”

  “Yen.”

  “Thank God.”

  Pope grunted, doubtfully. “If she hasn’t run off. Or sold us out.”

  Buzz didn’t rise to the bait, but merely listened as Pope rolled to the other side and gently woke Max up.

  “I’m going to crawl over to the door. Hide behind it in case they come in here,” Pope whispered before moving off without waiting for an answer.

  Inexorably, the sounds of footsteps got closer until, finally, the door swung open as the room flooded with sudden light. Buzz put his arm up to shield his eyes and could just make out three figures in the glare behind a bright flashlight and the unmistakable shapes of a shotgun or rifle barrel pointing into the room.

  “Don’t move!” The voice was urgent, husky and seemed terrified.

  Buzz and Max froze as the barrel swung left to right, sweeping the room. “Where are the others?” the voice said. It was hard to tell whether it was a man or a woman, but there was an unmistakable urgency to it.

  “What others?” Buzz asked, only just managing to stop himself looking into the corner where he imagined Pope would be.

  “No B.S.!”

  The room filled with the stench of unwashed human as the leading figure stepped inside. In that instant, Pope slipped out of the shadows and pressed the muzzle of his gun against the temple of the leader. “Freeze, scum,” he spat.

  The figure dropped with stunning speed, kicking out at Pope and felling him like a tree. Taking advantage of the distraction, Buzz threw himself at the nearest attacker, hands outstretched, pushing the deadly end of the shotgun away and searching for the figure’s throat. He didn’t see what the other attacker was doing. He was focusing entirely on the wriggling, kicking and punching bag of stench he was fighting. It hissed and scratched and then he felt teeth around his arm. Good grief, it was as if they were being attacked by zombies. Irrationality fueled his fear, and he forced his opponent onto his back.

  He heard Pope’s voice roar with rage as he subdued his opponent, and Buzz braced himself for the sound of gunfire in an enclosed space.

  “Stop!”

  It was Yen’s voice.

  They froze, and a girl’s voice said, “She’s got me. I’m sorry.”

  “Let him go, Pope,” Yen said, and Buzz looked across to see the special agent holding a knife to the throat of his suddenly still assailant.

  Buzz’s opponent was now on his, or her, front, pinned beneath his weight.

  “They would have killed us and taken everything we have!” Pope snarled.

  “Oh my God,” Buzz said as he rolled the person he’d been fighting over. He was looking into the filthy face of a boy. Maybe fourteen years old.

  “Pope!” Yen said.

  Slowly, his hand trembling, Pope got up, pulling his opponent by the edge of his jacket, the knife still raised.

  “Please, don’t kill me. My…my kids…”

  And then, as if a spell had been lifted, Pope pushed the man away and threw the knife to the floor, then looked at his hand as if surprised.

  The boy Buzz had been wrestling with ran to hug the man as Yen released the third figure: a girl of twelve or thirteen.

  “Max,” Buzz said, crawling over to where Max h
id, knees under this chin beneath the desk. “It’s over, come on out.”

  He helped Max out and seated him in the office chair.

  “Thank you,” Buzz said as Yen shut the door behind her, sealing the light inside and, unfortunately, the stench of the three attackers.

  She nodded curtly. “These are the people from under the bridge. Most of them, anyway. I saw them as they approached where you were hiding.”

  “Why did you let them in, for God’s sake?” Pope asked, his hand still shaking.

  Yen shook her head. “I do not shoot people I do not consider a threat.”

  “Are you serious? They could have killed us!”

  “I would not have allowed it. And besides, I don’t think their weapons are loaded.”

  Buzz let out a truncated grunt.

  “Mine is,” the man said. “One round left.” He held the gun out to her.

  She took it, one eyebrow arching. “A miscalculation on my part.”

  Buzz could see that Pope was barely containing himself, so he intervened. “Ted, why don’t you go and check the perimeter in case anyone else sneaks up on us?”

  For a moment, he thought the special agent would refuse, but, after pondering for a few moments, he nodded and went out.

  “I’m truly sorry for frightening you,” the man said, his arms around the two children. “We’re terrible hungry. I should’a come on my own, but I knew I needed help and the kids are all I got. We wouldn’t ’ve harmed you, honest.”

  “What the hell’s happened here?”

  “Hell’s the right word, that’s for sure. Don’t seem right to discuss it in this house of God, but the Lord has been absent from Springfield and we have done and seen things that no human should have to. I thought it was the end times. Maybe it is. My name’s Otis, and this here’s Wendell and Reba. And, again, I ask your forgiveness. But tell me, you’ve come from outside?”

  Buzz nodded. “From the south, across the water.”

  “Then the flood has receded, and the land is open again?”

  “Not entirely, there’s still plenty of water, but we hope to be able to travel north from here.”