Cyber Apocalypse (Book 2): As Our World Falls Page 10

  Garcia squinted.

  Travis wagged a finger in the face of one of them, then backed up and said something to Tate and Joe before breaking away from the group and heading for the store. No. It couldn’t be. Why? Was he behind the attacks on the store? Had he known the two men that were lying dead outside? It sure as hell looked like he knew those tweakers. But that didn’t make sense. If the goal was to get inside, he already had access. And why would he want to take what his grandfather had? Better still, why would he hurt him? He recalled what Travis had said when asked why he didn’t have a key. And then he remembered Harry appearing on the roof before he opened the door. Was Harry aware of what Travis was up to?

  Either way it was disturbing.

  Garcia slid back. He turned and scaled down the ladder, closing the hatch behind him. As soon as he entered the store, Harry peppered him with questions. “So? Did you see them? What did they look like?”

  “Um.”

  Harry narrowed his eyes as if trying to discern his reaction.

  A knock at the rear door.

  “That will be Travis,” he said in a low voice. “You want to go up and check, to be sure.”

  Garcia frowned. “Why don’t you open the rear if you know it’s him?” Garcia asked. He kind of figured he knew why but he wanted to hear it from Harry.

  “Can’t be too careful, right?”

  “Right,” Garcia said nodding. “I’ll, uh, be right back.”

  He could have told him he’d seen the three conversing with those tweakers but he didn’t want to start accusing people, especially without Andre there to back him up. And with Harry still under the impression that a Norteño had killed his wife, he had to be careful. Who would he believe — Travis or a cop with gang tats? Climbing back up to the rooftop, he made his way over to the edge and peered over.

  Travis had his hands in his pockets. “Hey, tell him to let us in.”

  “Will do.” Garcia stared at him through new eyes. Had that been the reason they were in the police station that day? Were they the ones responsible for those officers lying dead? And if so, why hadn’t they attacked them? Liam. Maybe he would know. Still confused, Garcia went back inside and let them in. If Travis was behind the attacks, surely he would have let the tweakers in. No, there was something more to this, something he was overlooking.

  “Any luck out there?” Garcia asked as he held the door open.

  Travis paused. “Nope.”

  “Huh! You never ran into anyone?”

  Travis looked him square in the eyes. “No one. Everyone must be staying indoors, staying out of sight.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Dangerous out there. Never know who might stab you in the back.”

  Travis gave a nod and Harry looked at Garcia. They shared a look as if they each knew what the other was thinking. It didn’t make sense though. If Harry knew that Travis was behind the attack, why hadn’t he said anything? Done anything? Why was he still opening the door and letting him in? Was he living in denial or waiting for him to try something? And what connection did these tweakers have to him or the Norteños? Then it dawned on him. Had there been any gang members in Willits in the first place? Or was it all just a lie?

  As soon as Travis saw his grandfather he acted all theatrical. “What the hell happened?”

  “What’s it look like, boy?”

  His eyes darted to Garcia. “You bandaged him up?”

  “As much as he would allow.”

  Harry got up waving him off. “I’m fine.”

  He was putting on a brave face but it didn’t matter how strong a person was, being shot in the shoulder wasn’t something you just brushed off. However, if there was a place to get shot, it was here at the store. He seemed to have more emergency medical supplies than a local hospital.

  “Anyway, why are you here?” Travis asked Garcia.

  “I returned the trailer.”

  “Oh. Right.” Travis looked at Tate and Joe.

  “You leaving now?” Harry asked.

  On one hand, he needed to speak with Liam but on the other he didn’t want to leave the old man alone. Could he handle himself? Possibly. That fool was as tough as nails. Anyone else might have broken a leg, shoulder or neck falling off that roof but he did it with all the finesse of a stuntman. Then again, landing on grass might have softened the blow. Still, for a man of his age it was something to behold.

  “Yeah. You think you’ll be okay?”

  His eyes bounced between them.

  “Survived this long, haven’t I?”

  Garcia gave a nod then turned to head out. As he was leaving, Travis caught up with him. “Hey, Garcia.” He stopped at the door.

  “Yeah?”

  “Tell Liam I want to see him tonight. Maybe he could swing by.”

  “Why not come back with me now?”

  He thumbed over his shoulder. “Ah, I have a few things to do here. And with my grandfather’s shoulder. Well…”

  Garcia nodded. “Yeah, right, you want to help him.”

  “Exactly.”

  He didn’t sound very convincing. “Anyway, just let him know I want to speak with him.” He tapped Garcia on the arm. “And thanks, Garcia. For everything.”

  He feigned a smile as he let himself out. As Garcia jogged over to his vehicle, his eyes roamed the lot. He wasn’t worried about coming face-to-face with those thugs. They didn’t pose much of a threat, but Travis, well, whatever game he was playing, it was dangerous and it wasn’t just Harry who might get hurt.

  Elisha attached the last of the solar-powered, motion-sensor lights to the cabin while Liam held the rickety ladder. A task that wasn’t easy with only one good arm. Andre had offered to help but she was determined to contribute. There was nothing worse than feeling useless. “What will you do about your parents?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “If they return, they won’t know where you are.”

  “Yes they will. While a nurse was putting your arm in a cast, Garcia gave me a lift back to my mother’s home, or what was left of it. I created a sign detailing where we are.”

  “What? Please tell me you didn’t give this exact location.”

  She laughed. “No, of course not. I didn’t know this location. I gave the name of the town. I figure it’s small enough that we’d eventually cross paths.”

  The ladder shook and groaned beneath her as she descended.

  At the bottom, Liam was grinning.

  Elisha frowned, slowly bringing a hand up to her head. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

  “No, it’s not your face.”

  Her eyes widened. “My butt? Is there something on my…” Then she clued in. Her eyes narrowed and a smile appeared as she poked him. “Were you staring at my butt?”

  “I can neither confirm or deny.” He laughed.

  She gave him a playful slap. “Get your mind out of the gutter. What’s next?”

  “We could install the burglar bars on the windows, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. The sun is almost gone. Which reminds me. Garcia hasn’t returned. I hope he…”

  He was in the middle of speaking when gravel crunched. They turned to see his cruiser winding up the driveway. After killing the engine Garcia got out and strolled over. “Nice work on the solar lights.”

  “Yeah, should alert us if someone is creeping around.” He looked back at him. “So… how did it go?” Liam asked

  Garcia stared at him with a pained expression. “How well do you know Travis?”

  “We practically grew up together. He’s like a brother. Why?”

  “And his relationship with his grandfather?”

  “Good.”

  “He wants to see you tonight. I think it would be worth going.”

  “Why? Garcia, what happened?”

  He gave a nod toward the cabin. “We should go in. Have something to eat. I’ll tell you all about it.”

  13

  Lopez loomed over the body of the chief and spat on h
im. “Rest in peace, asshole!” After the siege on the department, Lopez and his men bulldozed their way into the barricaded office of Chief Berryman. With a gun to his head, he had no option but to hand over Garcia’s address. When asked where he’d gone, the chief couldn’t answer other than to say he’d disappeared. Unsatisfied or simply thirsty for blood, he ended the chief’s life. In less than ten minutes they had made quick work of the officers inside. Outnumbered, the few overseeing the department didn’t stand a chance. Lopez had men posted at the main doors just in case others returned but the chances of that were slim. They were out patrolling the streets, searching through the rubble for survivors.

  Now with Garcia’s address in hand he had no reason to keep Ken around.

  Shoved into the corridor and led toward the main foyer, Ken fully expected to be shot in the back of the head, however, when they led him out of the building he wondered if Lopez was considering his offer.

  “Are you going to kill me?”

  “Get in the truck.”

  The unknown was crippling him.

  Ken climbed in and Lopez pushed him over and slammed the door. He seemed to get off on keeping him in the dark. They drove in silence through Petaluma as Ken continued to try and make him think about how Petaluma could be a land of milk and honey. Lopez wasn’t biting. His face was stoic and focused on the road ahead, even as he continued to hold a gun to his ribs. “Do you think that’s necessary? It’s not like I could overpower even one of you,” he said, letting out a nervous chuckle.

  No reply.

  They drove to the northwest side of Petaluma to a quaint neighborhood just off Emerald Court. The road ended in a cul-de-sac. The homes were modest, Garcia’s was a clapboard two-bedroom abode with an American flag out front, a common sight at many U.S. homes. There was no vehicle in the driveway but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. Ken bounced in his seat as the truck went into the driveway and the other three vehicles parked outside. Like a SWAT team preparing to burst inside, they got out and removed rifles from the trunks of their vehicles and surrounded the building.

  All he could do was watch as they unloaded a few rounds, breaking windows. They kicked open a door and entered. A moment later, Lopez stepped outside and motioned to the guy in the truck to bring in Ken.

  Was Garcia alive?

  Shoved through the main door, he was greeted by the sight of a pristine home, certainly not what he imagined. He’d always thought that Garcia was using his position with the police to cover up some shady business. He figured there would be drug paraphernalia on the table, lines of coke or a bag of cash sitting nearby. Nope. There wasn’t one thing out of place. The carpets were immaculate. For a second he thought the chief had purposely given them the wrong address until he saw a photo on the wall, of Garcia with other cops from the department.

  Lopez slumped into a chair, toying with his handgun. “You asked if I was planning on killing you. Where is he, mayor?”

  Ken looked at the others, his heart speeding up with every passing second. This was it. The moment his life was over. All these years of toiling for the government only to die in an ex-gang member’s home. The irony wasn’t wasted. “You can’t expect me to know that. You wanted his address; I gave you that. I’m not a mind reader.”

  Lopez raised his gun at him, and Ken put his hands out, tears forming in his eyes, the thought of being shot, being in pain, it was all too much to bear. Piss trickled down his leg pooling at his feet. “For all I know he could have left Petaluma,” he spat out.

  “That’s not the answer I’m looking for, Ken.”

  Like a spark igniting in his brain, he suddenly came up with a last-ditch effort at staying alive. He stabbed his finger forward. “Okay, okay, um. What was her name?” He clicked his fingers. “Reid. Reid. That’s it! He was seen multiple times with the Reid girl.”

  “Who?”

  “Um, a lady here in town who works for the hospital. Sophie Reid. She has a daughter. Elisha. Yeah. That’s it. Word has it that Garcia was seeing her mother. And multiple times I saw him with her. She lives over on, uh…” He stumbled over his words, his mind barely managing to piece together a thought. “I know where she lives. That’s what I’m trying to say. She helped in community events. If he’s not here, they could have gone there.”

  Lopez uncocked his gun. “You better hope so. Let’s go.”

  “Look, Mr. Lopez. I need to know. Are you going to kill me?”

  “That depends.”

  “On?” he asked as he was pushed out of the door.

  “Whether you outlive your usefulness.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, let me reassure you. I am very useful. I mean, they don’t just make anyone the mayor. They chose me because I think outside the box. I…”

  “Talk too much,” Lopez said cutting him off. “Now shut the hell up and get in the truck before I change my mind.”

  Ken went silent, gulped and within a matter of a minute they’d left Garcia’s residence behind. A wave of relief came over him. He was alive, but for how much longer?

  14

  The supper that evening was outstanding. Lamb, mashed potatoes, fresh colorful salad followed by a dessert that could have been served in any five-star restaurant. Alex hadn’t eaten food this good in over a week. Hell, they’d been living on a diet of food from smashed vending machines and anything they could scavenge from cafés, grocery stores or what was left of them.

  Whether it was because they were guests or it was a tradition, they had laid out quite the spread that evening. As they ate, a group of three young women played music on a harp, a guitar and a violin. Nearby, two men engaged in an arm-wrestling match, while an artist painted a portrait of space by looking out through one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows that encircled the dining area.

  Candles around the room provided a source of light, the flames causing shadows to dance upon the walls.

  Alex looked at Ryan who appeared to be enjoying himself, surrounded by two young teen girls who were leaning into him, talking then laughing. Thomas on the other hand sat across the room, holding a glass of wine and offering an expression of skepticism.

  They’d each been given seats, not together but apart. Alex was beginning to wonder if that was done on purpose, allowing them to share their beliefs.

  He wasn’t buying it.

  All of them had been given silky white robes and treated like they were royalty.

  The atmosphere in the room was like a busy restaurant with people coming and going, bringing in different food as if trying to impress them or fatten them up.

  What was unusual was their host still hadn’t appeared.

  Meadow had explained that they didn’t always do this and the meal that evening was in honor of them after risking their lives to help Star. Something that would have only made sense if the drones had been a danger. Meadow had still been very elusive when it came to asking why the drones hadn’t fired upon them. “Answers. They will come in time, Alex. But first, eat,” she’d said.

  Distraction, it was another form of deception.

  He caught Thomas’ eye. Thomas rose and strolled over. He took a seat beside him. “Kind of wild, isn’t it, Mr. Reid?”

  “Fake you mean?”

  He nodded slowly. “Yeah, something doesn’t feel right but you have to admit, Abner sure knows how to throw one hell of a party. This place is off the hook.”

  “Is that what you call it?” Alex said, reaching for an apple and taking a bite. “Have you seen him?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m thinking we should leave early.”

  Thomas patted Alex on the shoulder. “Ah relax, tomorrow we’ll head out. Until then, enjoy.” He winked at a teen girl as she walked by him and followed after her.

  A silver platter of what looked like fried frogs’ legs was placed in front of him. The smell wasn’t as bad as the look of them. “What are they?” he asked the server.

  “Chicken wings.”

  Who were they kidding? He
’d seen all manner of wings throughout New York State and even in the seediest of bars, none of them looked like that. “I think I’ll pass.”

  Across the table, a woman in her sixties was holding Sophie’s hand and talking to her. It was hard to tell what the conversation was about amid the ruckus of people talking, others laughing and music playing.

  Every now and again he would catch Meadow staring at him, almost in an uncomfortable manner. He would just smile back and she would turn her head away, not returning the gesture. Alex gazed around the room searching for Star but hadn’t seen her either. In fact, he hadn’t seen her since their arrival.

  Roughly thirty minutes into their meal, the room went silent and a door was opened at the far end and Abner walked in with multiple women, all of whom were now dressed in white. Abner himself had changed into new attire and was now sporting something that the Dalai Lama might have worn — a three-piece outfit, an upper robe and an outer robe, the colors were white with a band of gold.

  What was he, some kind of guru?

  Everyone barring themselves dipped their head ever so slightly as if they were in the presence of royalty. Alex looked over at Sophie, and she acknowledged with a frown that something was amiss.

  “Welcome. It’s an honor to have you among us. We look forward to getting to know you all. To the rest of you. I want you to know that no matter what is happening out there, as long as you are here, you will know no fear, no sadness, no want. In return, we know you will give back.”

  Abner took a seat. Two servers hurried over and set a silver plate in front of him and removed the dome top to uncover his food. He thanked them.

  A young woman with curly ginger hair, nineteen, twenty maybe, came around the table and asked if they wanted their glasses filled with wine. After what they’d gone through with Cowboy, his trust in people was at an all-time low.

  Alex placed his hand over his glass as the woman went to pour. “No thank you.”

  “Drink,” Abner said. “The night is still young.”

  “No, I need to get up early to get ready to leave.”