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Authors: Eric Walters

Will to Survive (23 page)

BOOK: Will to Survive
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We had little doubt that Brett and the Division were behind the threat, even though there was no hard proof. In some ways, we hoped it was them, because we didn't want to believe there were other cutthroat groups nearby with RPGs in their back pocket. Still, we didn't expect to get confirmation out of the blue on this very flight.

I had just broken us off the bank and aimed us toward the island colony.

“Does Payton know when the raiders will be coming to extort fuel again?” Lori asked.

“They show up about every two to four weeks,” Herb said. “It's been about three weeks, so they'll be back soon.”

“Do we really think it will stop when we destroy the Dundas bridge next week?” I asked.

“It will help a lot of things, but nothing can stop a few people with RPGs from coming across the river. They'll still be at risk.”

We hadn't flown more than a few minutes farther when we got our surprise.

“Hello up there, Cessna,” came a call over the radio. I had it on to communicate with the control tower at the island but was shocked to hear from them so soon. “We've got eyes on you.”

They couldn't possibly see us from here, could they? Then it came again.

“Cessna, do you read me?”

I looked over at Herb. He motioned for me to get it.

I picked up the receiver and pushed the talk button. “Hello, ground, this is the Cessna. I read you. Who am I talking to? Over.”

There was static and then a laugh. I'd know that laugh anywhere.

“Is this the little prince?” It was Brett.

Herb made a gesture with a finger like he was cutting his throat. I took my finger off the radio to make sure Brett couldn't hear us. “Answer him,” Herb said quietly. “And remember, I'm dead as far as he thinks.”

I nodded and pressed the talk button. “I didn't think I'd be hearing from you,” I said.

“Did the little prince think I had gone away for good?”

“I could always hope you crawled into some rat hole and stayed there,” I said.

“So the little prince thinks I'm a rat. I'm so insulted.”

I was going to respond when Herb motioned for me to silence our transmission again.

“Keep it up. The best way to get somebody talking about things they shouldn't talk about is to get them angry.”

“Okay.”

“Enraged is even better. The more he says the more likely he'll say something we can use, something he doesn't know will help us.”

I nodded. What could I say to really get him going?

“It's only an insult to rats to call you that.” That was lame. “A rat isn't half the coward you are.”

His laughter came over the radio. “Come on down and see if I'm a coward.”

“I guess I could invite you up here, but I know you're afraid of heights … and of a fair fight. Only a coward would attack somebody in the middle of the night or send other people to do his dirty work.”

“Poor baby, crying. I should have taken care of you when I had a chance,” he said.

“Sneaking into my room while I was asleep. That's sure brave of you, Brett. You don't have enough guts to approach me face-to-face.”

“Believe me, there will be guts the next time we meet. I'm going to gut you like a fish.”

I couldn't let him hear the fear I was feeling. I couldn't hesitate.

“Brave words from somebody who hides in the woods and takes potshots at innocent people,” I said.

“There are no innocent people, especially not in Eden Mills.”

“So it
was
you with RPGs,” I said.

“Sorry I didn't send a card to claim credit. I figured you'd know.”

“Oh, we knew. It was the classic act of a coward. It had to be you,” I said.

Again that laughter. “Big words.”

His replies were becoming more static filled. I was flying toward the island, leaving him behind, and we'd soon be out of radio range. But where was he, why was he down there?

I hit the left rudder hard to bring us back around. Herb was scanning the ground with his binoculars.

“You just wait … Sooner or later we're going to meet again,” Brett said.

“I'm assuming it will be later because you're such a powerless little nothing,” I said. “What's the problem, little Brett, didn't your mommy love you enough when you were a baby?”

“My mother loved me just fine,” he said, but there was genuine anger in his voice.

I'd hit a tender spot. “The poor old bat probably figured you out long ago and realized you were nothing more than a sociopath. She felt ashamed that she'd raised such a piece of—”

“I'm looking forward to the day we meet,” he snarled.

As we came around the voice became clearer and clearer.

“My guess is that your parents ran away from home to get away from you. They couldn't stand having a piece of crap as a son. They probably—”

He roared at me like a wounded animal. I'd scored a direct hit.

“I'm going to make you regret ever meeting me. Everybody you know is going to regret it. Your mother, your father, your brother and sister will all pay for it. How's Princess Lori? I'm going to make her pay as well … although she might enjoy it, you know, being with a real man.”

I had to think fast. “She's all yours. Do what you want with her—she dumped me.” I quickly turned back to see what Lori thought, but I needn't have worried. She smirked and gave a little thumbs-up.

“Poor little prince. I guess you just weren't man enough for her.”

“You'd know all about not being man enough. I figure you disappointed your girlfriends as much as you did your mother.”

There was no answer for a while, just static. Had I gone out of range again?

“You're going to pay. I'm going to put you in the ground just like I did Herbie.”


You
put him in the ground? You mean you had to beg somebody else to do it because you were too afraid to try it yourself. Are you ever brave enough to handle your own dirty work?”

A stream of swearing came over the airwaves. I forged ahead. “I'm sorry I didn't get you that night I dropped off that little explosive present at the Division compound.”

“I was impressed by that, little prince. Didn't think you could respond without Herb there to hold your hand. It looks like I underestimated you,” Brett said.

“I hope I impressed your ratpack's little leader, the captain or maestro or whatever you call him.”

“You did more than that. I guess I owe you for that one. If the colonel hadn't been injured so badly, it would have been harder to take over.”

“You're in command?” I exchanged a glance with Herb.

“Ever since I put a bullet in him to finish what you started.”

I felt sick. “I'm sure you had somebody else pull the trigger, but I'm so glad you're in charge. I guess we have nothing to worry about from the Division anymore.”

“You'll see … soon enough, you'll see,” he said. His voice had become low and calm, which made his words seem more frightening.

“Anytime, anyplace,” I said. “I'm not worried about you and a couple of dozen misfits.”

“How about four hundred trained soldiers?” he bragged.

“We killed twice as many as that the last time.”

“We won't be charging across the bridge this time.”

“I wouldn't expect that. You'll be doing it like a snake and not like a man, and that's too bad because you were right about one thing: I killed Owen and Tim—without a single regret—and I'm going to enjoy killing you. But I want to be able to look you in the eyes, the way I looked them in the eyes.”

That laughter again. “Welcome to the dark side, little prince. I didn't know you had it in you.”

“It's there and it's out and it's waiting for you.”

“Do you really think you can take me?” he asked.

“The real question is, do
you
really think you can take
me
on when I'm not sleeping? Or will you be sending somebody else?”

“It will be me, looking you in the eyes, and it's going to be soon. Very soon.”

I was going to answer when Herb tapped me on the arm. He was still looking out the window through the binoculars.

“I see something,” he whispered. “I see him and some of those go-carts, the ones we saw on the highway—the doodlebugs.”

“How many?” I asked.

“Three, no four … there among the houses.”

“Where, where?” I asked.

“They've gone out of view, behind the buildings,” he said. “They'll come back into view in a few seconds and—”

There was a loud
ping
, followed by a second and third, as something hit the left wing.

“We're being shot at!” Lori said.

I pushed the yoke in and hit the left rudder hard to pull us out of the bank and away from the shooters. We dove and turned so quickly that for an instant the plane started to slide and I had to back off to avoid losing control. I opened the throttle full to get some distance. Safe, I grabbed the radio, which had dropped to the floor.

“Just what I expected, taking a shot because you don't have the guts to face me man to man,” I yelled into it.

There was no answer. Had I gotten us out of radio range as well as rifle range?

“You probably didn't even fire the gun because I know you're not much of a shot,” I said. My mind flashed back to the time Brett and I had gone hunting together. We'd shot a couple of deer, but in the end it turned out his was shot by somebody else. “It took a kid to put down the deer you shot at.”

The radio crackled.

“The next time will be in person,” Brett said in a rock-steady voice. “I promise that.”

“Your promises mean nothing, but mine do. I'll take you out … Count on it, Brett. I'm going to kill you myself. You're mine.”

There was a garbled response that faded to complete static. We were now out of range.

“Do you want me to circle back?” I asked.

Herb shook his head. “We got what we needed. Much more than Brett meant to give us. Let's go on and complete our mission.”

 

22

“You are clear for landing on runway one, the left runway. Over,” the controller at the island's airport said through the radio.

“Roger, commencing landing.”

It was wonderful to actually have an air-traffic controller in the tower. It was also wonderful to be speaking to someone sane after that conversation with Brett. We'd radioed in on the frequency they'd told me to use to request permission to land if I ever returned. I looked forward to a friendlier greeting than the last.

As I came across the water, straight at the runway on the left, I had a sudden stab of doubt. What if I was wrong about these people, what if this was just an elaborate trap to get us back and find out about our neighborhood so they could exploit it? Worse, what if they were partners with Brett?

Once again, it was as if both Herb and Lori could read my mind.

“It's going to be all right,” Herb said.

“I know.” I laughed a bit sheepishly. “I'm just nervous about this landing.”

“It's funny how coming into a real airport with a real air controller makes you feel nervous,” Lori observed.

All of my flights had truly been solo, with nobody watching or judging. Here there were other pilots around and pros manning the control tower. I wanted this landing to be buttery soft and smooth. It felt like I was auditioning, especially after the hard landing I'd deliberately made the last time.

I aimed the nose for the yellow midline of the asphalt, pushed in the throttle to reduce speed, and lifted the yoke to change altitude and get the nose slightly up. There was no turning back now. I put the wheels down so gently that I wasn't sure for an instant if I'd touched down. We rolled along the runway. It was a smooth ride compared to the roads and paths I'd been landing on. Gently, evenly, I applied the brakes and we slowed to a crawl.

Off to the side I caught sight of other planes. Only one of the Mustangs was on the ground along with the big Lancaster bomber.

Waiting for me was a ground controller with wands, waving me forward. That was certainly better than men with guns. He motioned me over and I applied the brakes to follow his directions. I turned onto the other runway and taxied along. Waiting ahead was another ground controller who directed me into a spot beside the hangar, between two other vintage planes.

As we rolled to a stop Colonel Wayne appeared and offered a big wave and a friendly smile. I shut down the engine and we climbed out.

We shook hands, and the colonel hugged Lori like she was a long-lost relative. I introduced him to Herb.

“Pleased to meet you, sir, and so glad you two decided to come back,” Colonel Wayne said. “So are you the person who runs your show?” he asked Herb.

“I'm one of the people.”

“Well, that's great. I'm assuming since you came back, you're here to tell us a little more about yourselves.”

“We do want to talk to you,” I confirmed. “Honest talk. I want you to know that I didn't have the authority to tell you anything at our first meeting.”

“Nor should you have, since you were in such a vulnerable position,” he said. “Let's sit down and have a discussion.”

He shepherded us into his office and, after being treated to more of the islanders' amazing coffee, we settled in for a long conversation. Herb plunged right in, explaining the size of our community, the resources we had, the alliances with the hospital and the refinery. I saw the colonel react with particular interest when the refinery came up. I think Herb saw it, too.

The conversation went back and forth for several minutes. Finally, Herb stood up. “Adam told us about how you run your community,” he said. He walked over to the copy of the Constitution on the wall.

BOOK: Will to Survive
13.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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