Seven Days To Brooklyn: A Sara Robinson Adventure (20 page)

“What happened? Why are they dead?”
 

Looking over at Mac, Sara does not know what to say.
 

“Not really the reaction you were looking for was it?” Mac says to Sara.
 

“Nope. Pretty sure she would have run out of here screaming. I would have at my age had I not already killed a half-dozen feeders.”
 

Sara looks right into Aren’s eyes. “The facility killed them, Aren. They killed all of them, and they were going to kill you, and me today.”

 
“Why? I don’t understand.”
 

Aren 25 still does not comprehend what is going on, having spent her whole life in a sterile lab facility, only fed information they wanted her to know.
 

Mac drops the hammer on Aren. “Because you are a test subject in a warped experiment, just like your sisters were.”
 

“No, I’m not an experiment; I’m Aren 25.” Aren 25 sprints out of the room.

“Grab her, Mac.” Running down the hallway, Mac catches up to Aren 25, grabbing her shoulder to stop her. With a swift roundhouse kick, the young girl swings her leg around catching him square in the chest, sending him to the floor gasping for air. Sara is right behind her friend and manages to land a quick blow to the girl’s head with the butt of the handgun, knocking her unconscious.
 

“See, that’s what happens when you don’t get out much.” Sara Says, helping Mac to his feet.
 

 
“Thanks, did not think she would be hard to catch. But she is definitely trained in kung-fu or tae-kwon-do.”
 

“We got to get her out of here with us Mac. Maybe if she sees the real world, she will get it.”
 

Sara grabs the girl’s arms, pulling her into the elevator behind them. Pushing the last button on the control panel, Sara hits the button labeled
T
. Still recovering from the kick in the chest, Mac walks hunched over into the elevator. The elevator continues down toward level
T
but slows to a stop at level eight, lighting up that button on the panel. Sara pulls out the 9mm pistol, waiting for the door to open. As the door opens, standing directly in front of them are two of the operation center personnel, ready to board the elevator. The four of them stare at each other before the airmen yell at a security officer standing on the opposite side of the room. Sara frantically pushes on the door closed arrows and closes the doors before the guys can get to them. Inside the operations center, the security officer radios all security personnel of the escaping prisoners. Back inside the elevator, Sara, Mac, and Aren continue riding down to level T. As the elevator slows to a stop, the doors open up to a large tunnel and underground subway system directly in front of them, the security alarm is blaring loudly, nearly deafening them. Walking out to the edge of the rail line, Sara can see a two-car subway train sitting on the tracks one hundred yards to the left.
 

“Mac, look!”
 

“Get in, see if it works; we’ll be right there.”
 

Carrying Aren in his arms, Mac struggles to get her to the train, the pulsating alarm deafening him.

 
Looking around the operator’s cabin of the train, Sara studies the buttons before finding the power button. She pulls the knob up, energizing the electric wheel motors as well as turning on the interior lighting of the subway cars. Sara glances back over her shoulder and watches as Mac carries Aren through the doors, laying her on a bench seat, before joining her up in the cabin.
 

“Let’s go; kick this thing in the ass, Sara Robinson.”
 

“I’m working on it.”

“
What?
” he yells over the whirring of the electric wheel motors humming loudly.

“I
said
, I’m, working, on it.” Sara yells back.

Pushing the throttle forward, the train slowly starts to move down the pitch-dark tunnel in front of them. As they roll by the elevator, the doors open up, and four armed security officers run out after the train but are too late to jump on board, as the doors close seconds before they get there. Pushing the throttle all the way forward, Sara watches the speedometer go from forty miles per hour to fifty, sixty, then past the one hundred mark, hurling them down the track to an unknown destination.
 

“Not sure where this goes, but it is better than staying back there,” Mac says as he looks around the cabin of the train. Sara grins from the engineers seat, noticing a pouch holding paperwork by Mac’s leg.

“Over there,” she points to the pouch. “What do those papers say?”
 

Mac reaches down, pulling up the papers, and unfolds them on the dash in front of them. Turning the pages, he tries to make sense of the military jargon. “I’m not sure what all this is about, but it looks like a passenger manifest,” he says. “This page is full of people that traveled to the facility. All it says is these nine passengers came from LV to T. T must be the terminal. Who knows what LV stands for.”
 

Sara wracks her brain a few minutes before answering, “Las Vegas? It’s the only LV that comes to mind.”
 

Mac continues looking at the rest of the paperwork, reading off some of the names, “Bahkta, Graham, Edwards—” he pauses before saying the last name “—Robinson. You think that could be your father?”
 

“I’m not sure; he did travel a lot.”
 

As the train continues to rumble down the track, it is evident the subway runs straight ahead. There are no turns, neither bends in the track nor any incline or decline. Looking above her head, she notices a track map and lighted spots, each LED signifying the position of the train on the track.
 

“I think we just passed this position that just lit up,” Sara says, adding in. “That’s two down and six more to go.”

 
Twenty minutes later two more lights illuminate.
 

“Yeah, four more to get to who knows what. Or who might be waiting for us,” Mac replies.
 

Behind them in the car, Aren starts to moan, slowly gripping consciousness.

 
“Hey, look who is awake!” Jumping off the engineer’s seat, Sara walks back into the car and sits down next to the young girl. Aren, with one hand rubbing her sore temple, looks at Sara and is still unsure of whom or where and why she is there.
 

“Where are we going?”
 

“Away, away from that place. Those people back there are bad people. They killed all your . . . your sisters, or whoever you guys are. They were going to kill us all.”

Back in the operations control center, General Edwards has just arrived and is quickly working on a plan to recover the escapees. Working with the operations officers and computer techs, Edwards calls in the commandos and gets ready to brief them on recapturing Sara.
 

Standing in the ops center, the teams of commandos, geared up in all black uniforms, listen intently to the new plan of action.

“Men, the asset is on the run, escaping through the subway train. It is currently running west and should be reaching the Vegas transfer facility at Nellis in seventeen minutes. Recover the asset; terminate her male companion.”
 

Rubbing his forehead, still trying to shake off the early morning sleep, General Edwards pauses before speaking again.
 

“One more thing, they have Aren Twenty-five with them. She has been off drip for just under an hour and will need an infusion in twenty-three hours. Recover her if possible; terminate if necessary.”
 

The commandos quickly leave the room, boarding the elevator for a quick trip up to the hangar level. On the ramp sits the C-130, engines running, ready for a hasty takeoff and quick trip to Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas, Nevada. Restocked with ammunition, water, and MREs (meals ready to eat), the team boards the aircraft for the flight to Nellis.

The darkness of the tunnel wraps around the subway cars as they plummet to an unknown destination. Still standing next to Aren 25, Sara studies the features of her new acquaintance before sitting down beside her.
 

“Don’t worry; I’ll take care of you. As soon as we get to a city, we can get you some clothes and food. It will be all right.” Sara brushes the girl’s hair out of her eyes.

“Why would you do that?”
 

“That’s what good people do in the world. They help people in need. You need us, so we will help you. Besides, you don’t want to live underground forever do you? Have you ever been outside?”
 

The question Sara poses seems to be too much for the institutionalized girl, taking her thirty to forty-five seconds to reply.
 

“I’ve never been outside. The doctors said it was contaminated and that we could not survive out there.”
 

Sara is stunned by her answer. “Really? I mean, it’s a shit-hole out there right now, that is true, but it is a hell of a lot better than where we just came from. I mean, sure some zombie-eyed infected citizens are running around trying to rip your face off, but all in all, it’s not too bad.”
 

Looking up at the progress bars, Mac watches three more light up.

“Hey, we’re coming to the end of the line real soon Sara. I’m going to slow us down before we hit a brick wall, if this thing doesn’t go farther than LV.”
 

Mac throttles the train down, slowing it. The speedometer needle swings counterclockwise passing back through one hundred miles an hour, before settling on forty-five.
 

Walking back into the operator’s compartment, Sara looks up at the progress bar and LEDs lit up on the display. “We’re going to be there in less than five minutes.” She says.

“Yeah, then we can put some more distance between us and that freak show we just left.” Mac throttles the train back a few more miles per hour. Up ahead, a green light on the side of the tunnel starts flashing followed by a yellow light fifty feet later. The closer the train rolls toward the end of the line and transfer station, the brighter the tunnel becomes. The glow of fluorescent lights pushes out into the tunnel hundreds of yards before the station.
 

“Look, it’s a train station. I’ll get Aren ready.”
 

Mac continues to pull the throttle back, bringing the train slowly into the subway-style station before stopping a few feet before the end of the track. Pushing a button on the dash, the doors of the train slide open on the left-hand side.
 

“Let’s go.” Sara says to Aren.

Aren 25 stands up but quickly slumps back down into the seat. Sara reaches down, slips her hand underneath Aren’s arm, and helps her up. “Here, lean on me.”
 

Mac grabs her other arm, helping her get up and out of the train. Moving off the platform next to the train, they follow the exit sign and arrow pointing to the left, to a set of stairs.

13

MAC AND SARA help Aren up the long staircase and exit the tunnel system into the early morning dawn of Las Vegas.
 

“Take her, Mac; I’m going to look around and find us some transportation.”

Sara leaves Mac and Aren to search the buildings nearby for a vehicle. Walking past the rows of C-130s on the ramp, Sara keeps the pistol ready for action. A few hundred yards in front of her, a hangar door is partially open. Sara cautiously peers inside the darkened building. The hangar is empty except for a mound that is covered in the back corner. Leery of stepping into a building during the night hours, Sara
 
makes her way cautiously to the covered mound. Picking up the corner of the tarp, she reveals the bumper and left rear tire of a vintage, 1974 Porsche 911. The unrestored green paint shows years of patina as she pulls the rest of the cover off the car.
 

Opening the driver’s side door, Sara leans in, not expecting to find the keys dangling from the ignition, and is shocked when she turns the key and the dash lights come on. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, Sara scoots the seat up before twisting the key to see whether the engine will start. With the clutch pushed to the floor, the engine cranks over and rumbles to life. Slamming the door shut, Sara pulls the five-speed gearshift lever into reverse, backing the car up while pulling hard left on the steering wheel to face the partially open hangar door. Shoving the lever into first, Sara pushes on the gas pedal, propelling the car toward the door. Shooting through the door, the car tires squeal as she makes a hard right turn onto the asphalt of the airport ramp area. She pulls the car up in front of the small exit doors of the hidden tunnel and slams on the brakes, stopping the car inches from Mac and Aren. Mac swings the passenger door open pushing the right-hand seat forward, helping Aren get into the cramped rear seats that were built as an option for added storage, the Porsche normally just a two seater.
 

“Nice ride. Where we headed?” Mac asks.

“It was just sitting around, waiting for a new owner.”
 

The grin on Sara’s face is outlined by the glow of the dash lights. Driving out of the airport, Sara pulls the car out onto the highway, making their way to the downtown area. Minutes later, weaving in and out of more abandoned cars, trucks, and trash left on the street, the strip comes into view. Rows and rows of defunct casinos, darkened by the power outage, line the city street, towering over the little Porsche. Sara swerves the car across the multiple lanes and onto the large sidewalk in front of the former New York New York
 
casino, complete with a replica of the Statue of Liberty and Eiffel Tower. Stopping in front of the casino entrance, Sara shuts the engine off and pulls the key out of the ignition, stashing it inside her jeans pocket. Pulling Aren out of the backseat, the trio heads up the long steps and into the forum of shops inside the casino. In its heyday, the casino was the premier destination in Las Vegas, complete with a piano bar, multiple restaurants laid out in an indoor, city-style café sidewalk setting, and multiple shops for finding anything from clothing to pizza and ice cream. The casino interior is dark, silent, and deserted. Just inside the main revolving doors, Sara spots a familiar teen clothing
 
store and helps her new friend inside the shop. Looking around at the disarray of shirts, jeans, and sweatshirts haphazardly lying on shelves and the floor, Sara searches for the correct size of jeans and shirt that will fit Aren. Mac and Aren sit on a stool next to one of the jumbles of shirts.