Scavenger (29 page)

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Authors: David Morrell

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Suspense Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Adventure, #Science Fiction, #Men's Adventure, #Time Capsules

BOOK: Scavenger
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“Maybe something’s under them,” Ray suggested.

“But I don’t know how to reach under them to find out.”

Ray checked his watch. “Twenty after two. Less than ten hours to go. We’ve wasted more time.” He frowned at something below her. “On the rim in front of you. The mud’s drying. Does it look like something’s engraved in the metal underneath?”

Amanda looked where he pointed. She rubbed the drying mud. “Numbers.” Although she tried to sound triumphant, her voice had the tone of the crust she broke away. “Two sets. LT before one. LG before the other.”

“Map coordinates,” Ray said.

Amanda wiped mud off the rim to the right and left. “Same thing here. I bet the numbers are on the opposite rim also—to guarantee we saw them, no matter which side we approached from.”

“Read them to me.” Ray programmed them into his GPS receiver. He studied the needle on the receiver. “Points west. But I don’t know where exactly. The reservoir slope’s in the way.”

Amanda staggered up the boards. “Let’s find out.”

6

Balenger’s earlier suspicion was accurate—the rumble he’d heard was the sound of the dam being breached. As he reached the muddy basin and peered down at the devastation, he was puzzled why the muck seemed to move, until he realized there were snakes. Appalled, he shifted his gaze toward the deepest section and was startled to see two figures across from him. They were on a makeshift walkway that led down to a rectangular metal object in the mud.

One figure was a lanky, beard-stubbled man in a dirty green jumpsuit. The other was a shorter figure in a blue jumpsuit and cap smeared with mud. That figure’s back was turned, but with a surge of excitement, Balenger instantly knew who it was.

Overjoyed, he opened his mouth to shout “Amanda!” But the emotion shooting through him seized his throat shut. The sight of her made him dizzy.

On the opposite slope, the man noticed Balenger and blurted something to Amanda. She whirled. Her face was as muddy as her jumpsuit. But there was no mistaking it. Balenger’s heart pounded so fiercely that he thought it might break.

Amanda took a moment, as if she didn’t dare hope that the person she saw was actual. Then she stood straighter, and her smile—in the midst of her muddy cheeks—was dazzling.

Balenger managed to get his voice to work and ask the most important question. “
Are you hurt?

“Lots of small stuff, but I’m still moving!” She pointed. “Your leg! It’s bleeding!”

“Dog bite!”


What?

“I’ve got the bleeding stopped. Your hands!”

“Lost some skin. Broke some nails. My hands were never my best feature anyway!” Balenger swelled with love for her.

The man shouted, “
Have you got food?

“Yes. And water!”

“Thank God!” The man climbed the walkway.

Balenger watched Amanda follow him. Making her way up the boards, she looked repeatedly over her shoulder, determined to keep her eyes on him as much as possible.

For his part, Balenger never took his gaze off her all the while he hurried toward the shallow end of the basin.

“I thought you were dead!” Amanda shouted, moving parallel to him

“I thought
you
were dead!” Balenger yelled back.

“What happened to you?”

“No time!” Balenger shouted. “I’ll tell you when we’ve got the chance!”

Getting closer, Balenger saw that both Amanda and her companion wore headsets with microphone stubs. They reached the narrow end of the basin, where an old bridge spanned the creek that fed the reservoir. On the opposite side, Amanda rushed toward the bridge.

“Stop!” Balenger warned, his instincts alarming him. “Stay off the bridge! It might be a trap!”

Amanda and her companion faltered.

“Food!” the man shouted. “We’re dying over here!”

Balenger took off his knapsack, removed two energy bars, and hurled them over the bridge. He was shocked by the desperation with which Amanda and her companion ran to them. They tore off the wrappers and chewed frantically. He was reminded of the two dogs who’d attacked him and how the energy bars had driven them into a frenzy. He tossed two bottles of water into grass on the other side of the creek.

Amanda and her companion lunged to them and twisted off the caps.

“Slowly!” Balenger yelled.

“We know!” The man’s eyes flashed a warning, as if he hated being told what to do.

“The last time we ate was yesterday afternoon,” Amanda said. “A few chunks of canned fruit.”

Knowing cameras were focused on him, Balenger tried not to show how enraged he felt.
Jonathan
, he thought, for a rare time using the Game Master’s name,
you’re going to pay
.

He peered under the bridge. The shadows were thick. He took his flashlight from the knapsack, moved closer to the bridge, and knelt, aiming the light. Strapped to a shelf, a dark, rectangular object had a smaller object attached to it.

“A bomb,” Balenger said.

Amanda and her companion stopped chewing the energy bars. They stepped back.

“The bastard,” the man said. “I should have thought.”

“Because you’re starving,” Balenger said. “Those energy bars will help.” He went down to the creek and decided that the water couldn’t be electrified if the snakes survived in it. He splashed through a shallow section and climbed to the other side.

Amanda hurried to him, holding out her arms. Balenger couldn’t wait to embrace her. But she surprised him by abruptly stopping. “Stay away.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“He planted explosives on us.”

“What?”

“We don’t know if they’re in our boots, our headsets, or these GPS receivers.” She pulled a unit from her pocket and showed it to him.

Now Balenger understood the image he’d seen on his BlackBerry: the woman exploding.

“The microphone on the headset also functions as a video camera,” the man explained.

“Yeah,” Balenger said acidly, “the Game Master likes cameras.”

The man lowered his bottle of water. “You
know
about him?”

Balenger nodded. “I don’t think he’s going to blow us up now that he finally got us together.”

Balenger walked to Amanda, touched her muddy face, and grinned. “I can’t tell you how much I missed you.”

When they kissed, it went on and on. He didn’t want it to end. Although midnight loomed, he needed to hold her forever. But at once she broke the kiss and pressed her cheek against him, shuddering.

He leaned back, not bothering to wipe away the mud that had brushed from her cheek to his. “We can do this. We can get out of here.”

Her eyes changed focus, as if she listened to a distant voice. “The Game Master says to tell you to put on Derrick’s headset. He wants to talk to you.”

“Derrick?” Balenger frowned. “How many others are there?”

“We started with five.” For a moment, Amanda couldn’t bring herself to speak. “Three are dead.”

“Three?” Balenger felt stunned. “Where’s the headset?”

“I’m not sure,” Amanda said. “It must be over where ...” She looked at her companion, who in turn looked away. “It must be there.” She pointed behind her, toward the ruins of a town.

“Show me.”

As they walked, the man said, “I’m Ray Morgan.”

“Frank Balenger.”

They shook hands.

“Yeah, the Game Master talked about you,” Ray said.

“I’m sure it was flattering.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got any cigarettes.”

“Afraid not.”

“It figures.” Ray had an edge in his voice. “I ate the energy bar slowly, like you said. Got any more?”

Balenger opened his knapsack and pulled out two more bars and two more bottles of water.

This time, Amanda and Ray weren’t frenzied when they tore open the bars.

“I was sure we’d lost so much strength from hunger and thirst that we couldn’t win the game,” Ray said.


Scavenger.

“You know about that, too?” Amanda asked in surprise.

“The Game Master and I had some heart-to-heart chats,” Balenger said.

“When I saw you, I wondered if I was hallucinating.” Ray gestured toward Balenger’s tan camouflage suit. “You look like you stepped out of Iraq.”

Something about Ray’s bearing made Balenger ask, “You’ve been there?” “Marine aviator.”

“I was a Ranger in the first Iraq war. Proud to know you, Marine, although I wish to God it was under other circumstances.”

“Roger to that.”

Amanda pressed a hand to her headset. She sounded puzzled when she turned toward Balenger. “The Game Master wants to know if you’ve heard of the Doomsday Vault.”

“No, but I bet he’s going to tell me.”

They entered the ruins of the town. Balenger saw a pile of boards in the middle of the weed-studded street. The smell from it told him something dead was under there.

When he glanced at Amanda, expecting an explanation, she gave him a warning look. Ray appeared uneasy. Balenger didn’t raise the subject.

“Where’s the headset?” he asked.

Amanda listened to her ear buds. “The Game Master says ...” She pointed. “There.”

Balenger walked to the edge of a collapsed building and found the headset among more boards. He picked it up and examined it. Specks of dried blood were on it. Remembering the cautionary look Amanda had given him, he didn’t ask about the blood. The sturdy headband was thin. The ear buds and microphone/camera were compact. He opened a small battery case on the left side of the headband.

“I don’t see any space for a detonator,” he said. “There doesn’t seem room inside the headband or the ear buds for plastic explosive. Maybe in the microphone/camera. But I think the more likely place for a bomb is in your boots or your GPS receivers.” He glanced down at Amanda’s mudcovered boots. “Did they get wet?”

“Soaked.”

“The detonator would need to be awfully water tight not to short out. I could be wrong, but I think the GPS units are the bombs.”

Amanda listened to her ear buds. “The Game Master says, put on the headset.”

Balenger took off his hat. Under the weight of the sun, he adjusted the headset to his ears, then replaced the hat. “So what’s the Doomsday Vault?” he asked the Game Master. He scanned the wreckage, looking for a camera.

“You’re supposed to be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder,” the voice said.

“I am. I’ve got a fan club of psychiatrists to prove it.”

“But you don’t show weakness.”

“I’m goal-oriented. Give me a task, and I focus on it so hard I forget I’m a psychological mess.” Balenger continued to survey the wreckage. “And believe me, I’m a mess. Can’t sleep without a light. Can’t stand closed doors. I have nightmares about a guy who wants to cut off my head. I tremble for no reason. I wake up screaming. The bed sheets are soaked with sweat. After this is over, after we win, I guarantee I’ll fall apart.”

“You’re confident you’ll win?”

“Anybody who plays a game and doesn’t intend to win has already lost. I have a question for you. How did you know where the headset was?”

Noticing what he searched for, Balenger pulled out his ear buds and inserted the wads of Kleenex. He raised his rifle.

“What are you doing?” Ray asked in alarm. He and Amanda stepped quickly to the side.

The camera was concealed in a jumble of boards. Balenger imposed the holographic red dot on the camera’s lens and squeezed the trigger.
Crack
. Absorbing the recoil, he was vaguely aware of the empty shell flipping through the air. Amid the smell of burned gunpowder, he lowered the rifle and regarded with satisfaction the catastrophic damage that his bullet had inflicted on the camera.

He took the wads of Kleenex from his ears. “That’s another Peeping Tom we don’t need to worry about.”

“Now listen to me carefully,” the Game Master said. “That’s the last time you destroy an essential part of the game.”

“Oh?”

“If you do it again, I’ll detonate the explosive in Miss Evert’s GPS receiver.”

I’m right, Balenger thought. That’s where the bombs are. “Even at the expense of ending the game?”

“Without the cameras, there
isn’t
a game. Do you believe I’ll do it?”

Balenger turned toward Amanda, who looked terrified. “Yes.”

“Then leave the cameras alone and play the damned game.”

“Okay, we’ll play the damned game.”

The tension in Amanda’s body subsided.

“Any other restrictions?” Balenger asked. “You claim you want us to be resourceful, but when we are, you complain. If we don’t have a chance, tell us now, and save us a lot of trouble.”


Scavenger
can be won. I don’t create unfair games.”

“Right,” Balenger said. “I’m late to this level. Somebody bring me up to speed.”

“We found map coordinates engraved on whatever that thing is buried in the reservoir.” Ray indicated his GPS receiver, which he handled with considerable misgiving. “The needle points
that
way. West.”

“Toward those mountains,” Balenger said.

“Or whatever’s between the mountains and us,” Amanda said. “I also found rocks in that thing in the mud.”

“Rocks?”

“I threw one onto the bank.”

Balenger touched her shoulder in a way that he hoped communicated reassurance. “Show me where.”

7

They passed the pile of boards from which the smell of death rose in the afternoon sun. Amanda stared at Ray. Again, Balenger didn’t comment.

“The Doomsday Vault,” he said to the microphone. “You still haven’t told me about it.”

“The ultimate time capsule,” the Game Master replied. “It’s a chamber in a mountain on an island in the Arctic Circle. The island is called Spitsbergen. Norway owns it.”

They reached the outskirts of the wreckage of Avalon, from which King Arthur would never rise, Balenger thought, recalling the myth.

“What makes it the ultimate time capsule?” Ahead, Balenger saw the rim of the breached reservoir.

“Because it literally contains a form of time. The chamber is immense: the size of half a football field.”

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