Fire Birds (34 page)

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Authors: Shane Gregory

BOOK: Fire Birds
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He picked up a cracker from my plate and put it in his mouth.

“What happened yesterday?” I said.

“I was hoping you knew,” Somerville replied. “I tried to chase them when they left, but I couldn’t find them. I’m surprised he left the car.”

“I’m not,” I said. “He made it for her.”

“Andrew asked that I come talk to you,” Somerville said. “We can’t let this man live. It’s not about revenge, but you can use that if it will make it easier. For the safety of everyone here–of everyone everywhere–we have to put him down. We’re going out to look for him. Everyone is on board with this.”

“Alright,” I said.

“We kept his car,” he said. “It’s out in the driveway right now, but we’ll move it soon.”

I propped myself up on my elbows and looked hard at Somerville.

“Jesus, man–”

“We thought we could use it to draw him out.”

“Not likely,” I said.

“Sara…Sara ain’t on it no more,” he said. “We took care of her. We buried her. We plan to have a service as soon as you’re up to it.”

“I don’t want a damn service,” I said. “Get that car out of my driveway.”

“This is different,” he said, ignoring me. “We’ve had run-ins with other people, but this is the first time we ever went looking to kill somebody. It feels different.”

“It doesn’t feel like anything,” I said and lay back. “I just want to sleep right now. Can we talk about this later?”

Somerville stood there a moment then said, “No. We’re going out now, and we need everyone in on this. He’s got more firepower than we do, and we don’t know how many men he has with him. I need you out of bed and ready to go in fifteen minutes.”

I sat up again and looked at him, “Are you serious?”

“I’m dead serious. This is important. Andrew and the others think it would be negligent of us to allow him to leave and let him hurt someone else. I agree with them.”

“Negligent?” I scoffed. “Negligent. Now there’s an interesting word coming from Andrew.”

“I know,” he said. “We’ll sort through all this after we take care of this Lee fella.”

I sighed and threw my legs over the side of the bed. Somerville nodded, satisfied.

“I’m sorry as hell about Sara,” he said. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Try to eat. You’ll need your strength.”

As he walked out I said, “The preacher got his rain.”

“I know,” Somerville said without breaking stride. “We’ll never hear the end of it.”

I came downstairs about ten minutes later. I looked into the bedroom and saw Grant asleep on some blankets in the floor. I found Cheryl in the kitchen putting food and water into backpacks.

“Are you going?” she said.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I don’t want to, but I am.”

“None of us want this, but it has to be done.”

“I don’t give a shit at this moment,” I said.

She zipped up the bags then turned to me.

“I’m staying here with Grant,” she said. “He has a fever, and I’m going to keep an eye on him. Here take these bags out when you go.”

I nodded and pulled the bags from the counter. She gave me a sympathetic look and patted my face.

“You stay alive,” she said.

“I always do,” I replied.

The others were standing in the driveway by the Prius. They were all armed. Tim, Somerville, and Gail had binoculars around their necks. When I joined them, they nodded at me solemnly. I dropped the backpacks on the ground.

“Sorry for your loss,” Andrew said.

I looked out near the gate by the road where the yellow Firebird was parked. Sara’s head was missing; otherwise, it looked the same, still adorned with the other trophies. The gray, plastic tote was outside the car next to a pile of clothing and a cardboard box.

“We were just goin’ over the plan,” Andrew said. “Do you have any other firearms or ammunition on the property?”

“No,” I said. “Not here. I’ve put guns in other places around town in case I ever needed them.”

“This will have to do then,” he said.

“We have what we have,” Somerville said.

Andrew spread a map of Clayfield out on the hood of the Prius, and everyone gathered around. He talked a while. He pointed at the map. I didn’t hear anything he said. I was zoned out, staring at that Firebird and the gray, plastic tote. Then I looked into the faces of those around me. I didn’t want to try with them. I didn’t want to be a part of their group.

Then I noticed Gail holding an AR-15.

“Where did you get that?” I blurted out, pointing at the rifle and interrupting Andrew.

“It was in the…the…his car. There was a helmet with it.”

It was the rifle and helmet Bruce Lee had taken from my truck. I frowned.

“Once they come to investigate the fire,” Andrew continued, “they’ll see the car and come in closer. I think it will be a good trap. Now, if–”

“Laney,” I interrupted Andrew again, “do you have something skimpy you could wear? A bikini or something?”

Everyone looked up at me.

“Excuse me?” Laney said. Then she shot a look at Tim, who regarded me with a poker face.

“You could make yourself useful,” I said. “You’re a…buxom woman, and Bruce had this Princess Leia slave girl costume so–”

Tim took a step closer and cocked his head to the side. He continued to stare at me, but everyone else was checking out Laney. I paused and held up my hands then started over, focusing my conversation on Somerville, “They want the same damn thing the others wanted. If you’re looking for bait, then Laney, Gail, and Cheryl are it.”

“You leave Gail and Cheryl out of this!” Dan said.

“I get it.” It was Tim.

He could speak!

Everyone got completely quiet and turned to hear more. He looked around and nodded.

“I get it. Laney has this cheetah thing she wears–”

“Tim!” Laney shouted, turning three shades of red.

“It wouldn’t have to be so obvious,” I said. “In fact, don’t be too obvious, or he’ll know it’s a trap. They already know we have a woman with us; that’s why they’re hanging around. We just need to advertise it, and, Laney, your body is like a woman billboard.”

“Gee thanks,” she said.

“He meant it in a good way, I think,” Tim said. Then he looked at me. “Watch yourself.”

“Looks like we finally found something Tim wants to talk about,” I said. “Tim, you were in the military, right?”

He nodded and looked around uncomfortably, “Army.”

“Good. This is what we’re going to do,” I said as I took my AR-15 from Gail’s hands. “Whatever your plans were with the car, use Laney and Gail instead. I’m going to take the blue van. Tim you’re with me.”

I started walking toward the van, and no one moved.

“What the hell are you doing?” Somerville asked.

“I’m taking the van over to the airport and get the spaceship model I left. You just do whatever it was you were going to do, just make sure Laney shows some leg.”

“Weren’t you listening to the plan?” Andrew said.

“No, but I’m sure it was genius. Tim can fill me in on the way.”

CHAPTER 45

 

Nicholas followed me out to the van.

“It would be best if you went along with us on this,” he said.

“I am,” I said. “We’re going after the same thing.”

He grabbed my shoulder and stopped me. I turned to face him and saw that Tim was not with me.

“Tim, let’s go!”

Tim was talking with Laney and Andrew.

“We don’t need to all be bunched up together,” I said. “Get one of the women to distract them. Tim and I will take care of Bruce.”

I looked back at the others in the group. Tim was kissing Laney. Andrew, Dan, and Gail were looking over the map again.

“Are they staying here indefinitely after this?” I asked as I climbed in the van. “Will I need to move?”

“They haven’t said,” he replied. “It’s your place, so I guess that’s up to you.”

“Tim!” I yelled then waited while Tim ran over. He climbed in, and I pulled up next to the yellow hotrod. I got out and grabbed the gray tote and put it in the van.

“Nicholas,” I called out, “get the gate for me, would ya?”

 

“What’s this all about?” Tim asked as we pulled out of the driveway. “What are we going to do?”

“Do you have any experience with explosives?” I asked.

“Some,” he said.

“That crate back there,” I said. “I think there are explosives in it underneath all those cellphones. Tell me if you can do anything with them.”

He stared at me blankly then turned in the seat. I heard him open the box and dig around.

“We’re going to return Bruce’s Romulan Warbird, then we’re going to blow his ass up,” I said. “Do you see them?”

“Shit,” he said. “Yeah. That’s a brick of C-4, but there ain’t a detonator that I can find.” Then he turned back and sat down. He was holding two of the cellphones–one of the small ones and one of the large ones. “I’m more interested in these. These ain’t phones. Where’d he get these?”

I reached for one of them, and Tim jerked it away.

“What is it then?” I asked.

“This is a transponder,” he said. “Something new they’ve been using since the outbreak.”

“Airplanes have those, don’t they?” I said.

“Same principle,” Tim said, “but these are used specifically for targeting.”

“Targeting what?” I asked.

“What do you think?” Tim replied, holding up the device. He sighed and continued, “Before my squad was overrun outside of Nashville, we were deploying these things–planting them. They were partnered with the horns–”

“What horns?” I asked.

“I didn’t see any in the box,” he said. “They’re horns. You know…horns…noise-makers. They’re loud as hell, and they could blast for days before their battery died. They didn’t usually go that long though. We’d find a place where the goons were really thick. We’d move in, activate the transponder, and turn on the horn. Then we’d get the hell out. They would give the goons time to form a nice big crowd before they sent in the air strike. It gave us plenty of time to leave the area. There were several squads out doing it.”

“Does Andrew know about this?”

“No,” he said. “Laney doesn’t even know. They know that I’m AWOL, but that’s it. I thought the air strikes were over, but I got suspicious when the radio station went up. Then when Nicholas got here with his news…I didn’t have no part in burning survivors. We were ordered to do it, but I didn’t. I didn’t want anyone to think that I would do that. Then they hit Clayfield. I didn’t have anything to do with that either. They already know I’m AWOL. That’s bad enough.”

“With their fucked up morality, I’m surprised they let you stay knowing you were a deserter,” I said.

“I didn’t desert! I just didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Tim said.

I nodded, “Okay. Sorry.”

“And you better be glad I’m here or it could have been worse if these got into the wrong hands. When you turn these things on and activate them, they send out a signal. You’re not calling momma. You’re not speed-dialing for a goddamn pizza.”

“Shit,” I said, a dawning coming over me. “Oh shit. We blew up the radio station. We burned Clayfield.”

“You’ve been messing around with them?” Tim said. “No wonder. Communication has been spotty in the field. They don’t do any confirmations on these, not now. If telemetry is sent, you can bet your ass the boys in the bunker will send in the fire.”

“But they’re not robots,” I said. “Aren’t they piloted remotely by a real person? Aren’t they able to see the target?”

“Not always. Some are autonomous. Anyway, even if a human had the controls, they’re going to burn whatever we tell them to burn. If the transponder is activated, that’s all they need. As far as they’re concerned right now, there is no friendly fire.”

Then he held up the larger device. “This is like a remote. It lets you activate the horns and transponders from another location as far away as ten klicks. We never used them, but they gave them to us in case we needed extra time to get out of an area. The transponders won’t do anything unless they’re activated, but we should get them far away from us just to be sure. What we need to do is take this box and dump it in the river. Accidents happen, and I don’t want to get fire bombed because somebody screwed around with these.”

 

I pulled the van into the hangar with the other cars. We got out, and I looked back in the corner at Brian Davies’ Porsche.

“Did you play a part in that?” I asked.

“Before my time,” he said.

“Would you have?”

“I can’t say what I would have done,” he said. “I wasn’t there.”

“Yeah, but–”

“I wasn’t there,” he stated flatly.

I looked at the ground and nodded, “Okay. I’ll go get the Warbird, and you get the C-4 rigged to it.”

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