A Town Called America (21 page)

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Authors: Andrew Alexander

Tags: #Post-Apocalyptic | Dystopian | Vampires

BOOK: A Town Called America
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“Power? Could this place really have power?” Robbie asked.

“Looks like it just might.”

After they felt their way through the dimly lit room toward the far wall, they discovered a long desk that also had controls. Feeling her way around, Chris made her way back to the control panel with the blue button. Closer now, she saw that above the panel was a large rectangular window that overlooked a vast open space.

Without warning Chris flipped the blue switch. At that moment the most unexpected thing they could have imagined happened: absolutely nothing. They had thought for sure the lights would come on, or the panel would light up, something.

“Hey, don’t touch anything else,” Robbie said. “We don’t know what the hell this stuff is. Let’s get back to Rick and Billy, and we can all come back together later.”

“OK,” Chris agreed.

After closing the steel door, they headed across the catwalk to the ladder. At the top, as they looked out from the small room on the roof, they saw that the rain had turned into a full-blown storm that was much stronger than when they’d arrived. Deciding not to push their luck, they turned around and headed back down the ladder.

Rick and Billy exchanged startled looks when they heard the unmistakable sound of vehicles coming from outside the cellar.

“That’s not possible,” Billy said.

They stood up and raced up the stairs. Peering around the corner of the building, they saw vehicle after vehicle driving past. Both men kneeled and looked in awe as an entire fleet of midseventies trucks, vans, and cars passed the dilapidated gas station. The trucks had machine guns mounted in the beds, with men positioned behind the heavy weapons.

As the last vehicle passed, it was clear who they were. On the driver’s-side doors, they saw the M.M. insignias.

“What the hell?” Rick said. “When was the last time we saw a working vehicle?”

“We haven’t seen the M.M. for months, and that was hundreds of miles from here,” Billy replied. “We need to find Chris and Robbie as soon as this storm subsides.”

Rick nodded, and he and Billy returned to the cellar to wait out the storm.

Stepping off the ladder to the catwalk, Chris and Robbie heard a remarkable sound. They had no doubt it was the sound of vehicles. After rushing back up the ladder and out of the small room, they moved into crouching positions at the edge of the roof, trying to keep the lowest profiles possible.

There it was in the distance, screaming toward them: a fleet of vehicles driving through a gate on the far side of the compound.

“Shit, let’s move,” Chris said.

They went back down the ladder, but this time they didn’t stop until they reached the ground floor. At the bottom of the ladder, neither saw anything in the pitch-darkness. Holding hands Chris and
Robbie felt their way along a wall as quickly as they could until they came to a ventilation shaft.

“What’s that noise?” Chris asked.

“I don’t hear anything,” Robbie responded

An eerie feeling came over Chris as she heard voices; they were soft but definitely there. “Are you sure you don’t hear anything?”

“Chris, I’m sure. Now let’s go.”

Robbie pulled out his multitool and unscrewed the vent that covered the ventilation shaft as fast as I could.

The voices weren’t any louder, but the longer Chris spent in that dark room, the more of them she heard. It was almost as if the voices were calling out through the darkness, pleading for help. By the time Robbie had gotten to the last screw, Chris was more determined than ever to get out of the building as fast as she could. The voices were something she had heard before, although she couldn’t place when or where.

The last screw fell from its hole into Robbie’s hand just as the sound of the enormous metal door being opened echoed throughout the entire structure.

After Robbie pulled the vent cover aside, Chris entered the ventilation shaft first, followed by Robbie. Robbie pulled his feet inside the vent, and the screen closed just as floodlights filled the room one after another, each with a popping sound followed by a crackle of electricity. Chris and Robbie were on their hands and knees, as there was barely enough room for them to fit. Inside the shaft they waited, trapped in their tiny cubbyhole with nowhere to go. They stayed as still and silent as possible, peering out from behind the screen.

As they looked through the vent, their eyes slowly adjusted to the floodlights. In the huge warehouse, they saw row upon row of cages stacked three high throughout the vast room. Every cage had a person in it; suddenly Chris knew exactly where the voices she had heard were coming from. The cages were made of thick wood with steel reinforcing the edges. Each one had a large circular ring on each of its corners and a single small window in the front that was perhaps six inches wide.

Once the three-story cargo bay door was fully opened, M.M. soldiers flooded inside.

“Captain,” a soldier said into his radio, “I’m down here inspecting the cages. It looks like they’re all secure.”

“Check them again, and make sure they’re all secure and accounted for.”

“Roger, sir.”

The warehouse was full of soldiers performing various tasks. Some were fastening chains to the cages, while others appeared to be inspecting and taking inventory.

Chris and Robbie watched as chains dropped from a swing arm on a small crane. The chains were then attached to the rings on the cages, which were then hoisted one after another onto a flatbed truck that had backed into the warehouse.

Chris wanted to do something for the people in the cages, but she’d have no chance, especially with so many soldiers. If she and Robbie left the protection of the ventilation shaft, the M.M. undoubtedly would shoot them. They wouldn’t make it ten feet.

They sat silently in that small space, waiting, praying, and hoping their nightmare would end soon. Finally, after all the cages had been lifted and loaded onto the trucks, the lights went out, and the cargo door closed. Only then did they crawl out of the shaft. The only things left in the room after all the soldiers departed were large bags of salt, which both thought was very odd.

THIRY ONE

A
lmost twenty-four hours had passed since Chris and Robbie had left the cellar. The weather had cleared slightly, and Rick and Billy were worried about their friends. Rick and Chris had argued before, but she’d never been gone that long. Although Billy was calm, he too was worried; he just wouldn’t admit it to Rick. He only told Rick to be patient; he was sure they’d return soon.

The sun had just set under the mountains in the distance when the cellar door opened. Chris and Robbie headed downstairs and met eyes with their friends once more.

Rick and Chris quickly embraced, and Robbie apologized for how he had acted. Rick and Chris left the cellar together and didn’t reappear until late that evening. When they returned, they looked refreshed and smiling; each seemed to have renewed spirits.

Although Robbie was happy they were working things out, he couldn’t help having mixed emotions. He was very attracted to Chris but felt guilty because Rick was his friend, and Jamie was always on his mind. He sat in the corner, near the fire, gazing into a small cracked mirror for a time. Looking at the burns on the left side of his face, he wondered whether Jamie would still be attracted to him if she were able to see him.

Billy had gone outside to take in the night air and smoke a cigarette after Chris and Robbie explained what they had witnessed. They told
them of the caged people they believed to be slaves that the M.M. were collecting. They all agreed something had to be done, but it wasn’t the right time. They needed food, supplies, and a more permanent place to stay.

Upstairs, in the gas station, Billy pulled away a board that covered one of the doors. He entered and spent some time exploring the three rooms inside. He discovered nothing of any value, but it was a time when he could be alone for a few minutes, which was just what he needed. He thought about how far they had come and wondered whether they’d ever find a place to build a town called America. Once he left the gas station and met up with his friends in the cellar, they all gathered their belongings and set out on the road once more.

They were hungry, tired, stressed out, and ready for a change. The four walked for the next two weeks, hunting animals and catching a few fish, which they were thrilled to have. They knew it wouldn’t last, but for now they all had their fill of food and a renewed sense of hope, even if it was only temporary.

Rick had reached a hilltop and yelled down for his friends to hurry up and get up there. Once all four had reached the top, they gazed down on a small town below. None of them could believe what they were witnessing. People were walking freely in the streets; it had been so long since they’d seen civilized people. There had to be at least fifteen or twenty people out and about—male, female, and children alike. It was a relatively small number but nonetheless astonishing. Looking down they saw that one main road went through the town. Most striking was that no guards or security were visible.

“Are these people insane, or did they make a deal with the Devil?” Chris asked.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Billy said.

The four made their way down the hill toward the town. Moving closer, approximately two hundred feet from the first building, they stopped and stared at a single person who looked like she was out taking a leisurely stroll.

“What’s your business?” the tall, slender woman in tattered jeans and a T-shirt asked.

“We’re not here to cause problems. We’re just passing through,” Chris replied.

“No problem. You’re welcome to do your business here before you get on your way,” the woman said with a smile. “I’m Conner, Pamela Conner.”

“What the hell is this?” Rick whispered to Chris. “
The Stepford Wives
?”

“What’s
The Stepford Wives
?” Chris asked.

“OK. Thank you, Ms. Conner,” Rick said, ignoring Chris’s question.

Walking on the main street after passing a few shops, they met an older man who called himself Brian. He had gray hair and was of average height but very thin; he had the appearance of someone who was in charge. “I’m the sheriff here in Brockton,” he said, “and I have some serious issues with your being here. I need you to move quickly. Don’t talk. Just follow me so you won’t be seen on the streets.”

All four moved quickly, following Brian to a building they’d seen some of the townspeople entering from the hilltop. It was a single-story wooden structure that looked as if it had been a church at one time. It had large double doors and white paint that was aged and peeling.

Inside, a small crowd of people stood silently as they entered the room. Everyone was staring at them but not in an intimidating or vicious manner; they seemed more curious than anything. Perhaps they hadn’t seen outsiders in a while.

They walked past the crowd, and the people stepped out of their way. At the far end of the room, Brian stepped onto a stage, as Rick, Chris, Billy, and Robbie sat down in chairs a few of the townspeople had placed for them.

“All right,” Brian said, “I’ve told you all who these four people are, and you know we have an obligation to help them. An enemy of our enemy is our friend.”

Confused, the four friends sat trying to figure out what exactly Brian was talking about.

“These folks are being hunted like animals, and we’re not about to let them be caught, are we? We need to do everything we can to support them in their cause. Their cause is our cause now! Now who has questions or concerns?”

A woman near the middle of the room spoke up. “I don’t like it. It’s too dangerous.” She turned to look at Rick and his friends. “Do you all know what kind of trouble you’ve brought here?”

“Ma’am, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rick told her. “I also don’t know who you think is after us.”

The rest of the room spoke up and became more vocal and abrasive.

“Brian, we all trust your judgment, but this is too much,” one man said. “Hell, they don’t even have any idea how much trouble they’re in. Either that or they’re just stupid. I say we get them the hell out of here.”

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