Read The 1000 Souls (Book 2): Generation Apocalypse Online

Authors: Michael Andre McPherson

Tags: #Action Adventure

The 1000 Souls (Book 2): Generation Apocalypse (36 page)

“People. The Illinois National Guard is coming home. I convinced Webb to abandon Malmstrom and throw in with us. He’s been bringing in the Bradleys and Strikers by transport trucks, and they just got here yesterday with lots of supporting troops. Webb’s just been waiting for me to give him the word. That’s now.”

“I can’t believe you,” said Joyce. “Why the hell did you call us all the way down from St. John’s if you have a frigging army?”

“Because I didn’t have the army before. That was a deal we worked out after you got on your buses.”

Kayla knew that getting in between Joyce and Bobs was a bad idea, but she couldn’t help herself. “Then why these attacks on the Mart and the bridges and all? Like you said, we obviously don’t need them.”

“We needed to focus Vlad’s attention. I couldn’t have this leak out, and I couldn’t have the rippers or the Daylight Brigades find Webb’s army by accident. We need surprise and we’ve fucking got it.”

She looked around at them all, her forehead creasing with a frown.

“Don’t you see? We’re going to win tonight! Tonight we’re going to take the Loop. The rippers are gonna be flushed out of those tunnels just as Webb attacks from the south. We’re the other side of the pincer. We don’t even need to attack! We just hold the bridges and machinegun the rippers as they try to cross. They’ve got nowhere to go except the lake, and rippers don’t do so well on a sunny day on the lake.”

“So you were using us as bait.” Joyce’s bitterness reflected Kayla’s feelings.

Bobs again slammed the table with her fist. “You just don’t get it, do you? While you and Jeff have been hanging around and screwing up at St. John’s, I’ve been down here making all the tough decisions.” She pounded her chest between her breasts. “I’m the one who had to watch millions starve, fighting off good people who didn’t have it together. Millions! Do you know what it was like down here? I starved! We all starved and we all fought. It was like being in the middle of a hundred dogs in a dogfight with half the mutts rabid. And you come down here to lecture me about bait? About nuking our enemy?”

The room went very silent, and the look of ‘caught’ on Bobs’ face, one eyebrow raised, indicated that she had said more than she intended.

Jeff spoke first, carefully placing his beer bottle on the table. “I thought you said you’d take it under advisement. I thought we were supposed to talk about this together.”

Bobs glared at Jeff. “I did take it under advisement, and advised myself to ignore you pussies and do what needed to be done. By now Vlad knows that he won’t be getting any help from L.A. or New York. Nice sunset last night, eh?”

“Sweet mother of God,” said Helen, the first thing she’d said since the meeting began.

Bishop Alvarez calmly turned into the room from the corridor.

“Robertta Jean is God’s general on earth,” he said. “She is winning this war for us.”

“By ending the world,” said Joyce.

“Joyce, my daughter in Christ. The world ended a long time ago. When did we last hear anything from the Vatican that wasn’t ripper propaganda? What about Europe, Africa, or Australia? We already know that several Chinese cities were destroyed with nuclear weapons by their own government eight years ago. The world has been silent. No jets or ships arrive on our coasts to rescue us. They have all gone down to the dogs of hell. The best we can hope for is that some cities survive like ours.”

Joyce looked from Bobs to the rest of the people gathered around the table. “We’re not needed here anymore. Let’s get the hell out of here.” She headed for the door, but a call from Bobs stopped her.

“Joyce, if your Raiders really give a shit about Tevy, this would be a good night to go on that raid. The rippers will be completely disorganized, and Vlad will be busy turning his whole army on a dime to fight Webb. When the rippers realize their tunnels are flooding, I’m willing to bet a lot of them will book for the countryside. This is going to be a rout.”

“I guess that means Tevy will be just fine by dawn.” Joyce turned into the corridor, others rising and heading out to follow with the exception of Gonsalves and Chen. The bishop left in a hurry.

Bobs glanced at Kayla and down to her map and flags and toys. For a moment Kayla thought she caught an odd look from Bobs, one of regret or maybe jealousy. Did she have a thing for Tevy?

“Tevy won’t be fine, will he?” Kayla asked.

Bobs didn’t lift her eyes from her map. “If I were Vlad and I’d ordered a prisoner for questioning, I’d question the hell out of him until Webb attacks. Then I wouldn’t need any more answers. Then I’d know where the real danger was coming from. Then I’d turn to fight, and that prisoner would be useless. I’d give him to my guys for a snack.”

Now Bobs did look up, and Kayla was surprised to see concern on Bobs’ face. “He was the best of my Brat Pack. I had plans for him. He was going to be the first of a new order in the church. Instead, I’ll see that he’s listed as a martyr for the cause. Not on the level of Bertrand, of course, not for taking out the anti-Christ himself, but people will remember Tevy.”

Kayla turned to go, but she had just reached the door when Bobs again spoke. “So, was he any good in the sack?”

For a terrified moment, Kayla feared she would weep, but her anger saved her and she used it to turn her voice icy cold. She fixed her eyes on Bobs and used words to deliver the most savage blow. “He was fucking great, and so was I.”

*

Kayla caught up with Joyce and the others in front of the steps outside the church, including Emile and Helen. They had stopped to talk to Mabruke, catching him up on the news of the nukes and Webb.

“That explains a lot,” Mabruke said. “It seemed strange to me that almost all the fighting was performed by St. John’s and my Ericsians around the Mart. The St. Mike’s troops did little more than hold the north side of the bridges. We’ve suffered the most casualties.”

“We’re getting out of town,” said Joyce. “At least some of us. A lot of people came down to stay, and that’s fine with me. We’ll only need one bus for the trip north.”

“I’m thinking it’s time for us to leave, too,” said Mabruke. “The bishop hates us, and if Bobs now has Webb at her side, her alliance with us isn’t so important.”

Kayla knew it made no strategic sense, but Tevy had come back for her when the bridge fell into the river.

“So we just all pack up and leave Tevy to die?” she asked.

A white flare burst far to the south, high over the city, and its light was enough to show Mabruke’s surprise, even in the shadow the church cast over them. “What’s this about?” he asked.

Kayla brought him up to speed as fast as she could while Joyce looked uncomfortable and Jeff lit a cigarette.

“But he’s the Dormant Hero,” Mabruke said. “Aren’t you going to his rescue?”

Suddenly Kayla understood. She didn’t need anyone’s permission. She was going after Tevy, even if it meant she was risking her own life, even if she had to go alone. She wouldn’t live without him, and what if she were pregnant like Joyce had been when Bertrand had died? That would be even worse. Elliot was brave enough to go after him alone in a city full of rippers. She would follow.

“Yes,” Kayla said, feeling relief for the first time since Tevy was captured. “I’m going after him.”

Mabruke looked delighted, but Joyce looked furious.

“Then you’re throwing your life away. Tonight’s battle will make the last week look like a picnic. The rippers will have nowhere to go to ground! They’ll be like wolves backed into a corner. That’s when they’re the most dangerous.”

“Fuck you. I can throw away my life if I want to. I won’t live without him.” Her hand pressed her belly. Was there life growing there? She went with the truth. “I may be pregnant.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“I’m not you, Joyce. I won’t have a child with him and be left to bring it up on my own. I won’t have a ghost for the father.”

“Shut up!”

But it was too late. Emile didn’t get it, but Helen suddenly put a hand over her mouth in shock. “Oh my God. Little Margaret is Bert’s daughter, isn’t she? Oh my God. I assumed she was Jeff’s.”

Jeff gave a pained smile. “See how a man gets a reputation?”

“You guys can’t tell anyone.” Joyce’s panic was evident, but Mabruke was already trying to sooth.

“His soul carried on in others.” Mabruke said. “Offspring are wonderful, and when she is of age, I would love her to take the determination, but soul portions are not inherited. She could have a portion of the Angry Captain or the Loving Mother.” He waved a hand at Helen. “They’re all just as likely as the Dormant Hero.” He turned his attention to Kayla. “I’m more concerned about the existing vessel of the Dormant Hero. There must be very few left, because we’ve never come across another one. I’ll come with you, of course. I have a platoon at the cantonment gate. Where do you want to attack?”

“I thought about boats down to the Loop, but I don’t really know where to begin.”

“I can take care of that.” Emile looked drunk and kept giving sidelong glances at Joyce and smiling. “A little Bert. Who knew?”

Kayla tried not to scream at him in frustration, but Jeff saved her. “The boats, Emile?” he asked.

“There’s a fishing fleet. Started back in the famines. Come on with me. I know a dozen boats we can use, and their captains are good. They’ll land us right at the foot of Jackson, no problemo.” To Mabruke: “Bring your guys this way, fast. We gotta move now if we’re gonna do it.”

They had turned to hurry away, passing the white statue of St. Michael, when Joyce called out. “Wait. Damn you to hell. Fine. We’ll go. At least I’ll go.”

Jeff finished his cigarette and dropped it to grind it out on the pavement. “Hell, I’d hate to miss a fight, especially when my soul is already down there fighting. I want to talk to the little red-haired hellion. I think he should come up to St. John’s so I can make sure Bobs doesn’t lop his head off or something.”

Kayla ran toward the shore of Lake Michigan, relieved to be doing something, relieved that the Angry Captain and Dependable Rogue were with her, for more and more she believed in the Ericsians 1000 Souls. But she feared failure, because they were missing one of the Trinity. The Dormant Hero. Somewhere, Tevy was down there, dead, alive, or a ripper. But somewhere else Bertrand Allan stalked this city. Joyce had made that clear. Mabruke, Bobs, Emile, and Helen certainly didn’t know. Vlad didn’t know. Allan was the ultimate wild card. No one could command him, neither ripper nor human.

Twenty-Seven - The Dependable Rogue

Elliot had a good buzz on and he wasn’t going to let the rippers ruin it, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let them take his best friend to his death. He took a sip of hooch from his metal flask and looked out the window, waiting for the flare to fade and for rippers in the street to be busy with something. A machine gun from the Mart raked this side of river and the rippers took shelter. Perfect. Elliot climbed out the window and slid down a phone cable he had just cut out of the drop ceiling of their floor of the office building. It hurt his hands, because it was only plastic coated wire and it was so thin, but it held his light weight. Jemal could command the Ericsians up there. He knew what he was doing and was really the guy in charge anyway. He’d hold off the rippers until morning.

Elliot hurried down the street, starting in the middle like he belonged there, but moving to the shadows when he saw a whole company marching his way in formation. There were true ripper troops, not civilian conscripts. These must be the guys from California.

A mouse didn’t know its warren as well as Elliot knew this city after eight years of spying and scrounging. He dived into a hotel and hurried through the lobby, the restaurant and the far window smashed many years ago by he and Tevy to make this route work.

He had just slipped across the next street when the shadow caught his attention. A ripper was tracking him. Odd. Not raising the alarm or calling out a hunting pack or anything. He must think Elliot would be an easy mark, a meal all to himself.

That would change. Elliot worked his way into a bank, finding his way in the light of a new flare that burst above the city, its white light washing in the high windows. He jumped into the teller’s area and turned to place his M16 on the counter, aiming for the shattered window he just came through, but the ripper didn’t follow.

Elliot was about to move, when a voice called into the bank.

“My best friend carried an M16 like that. He uses an FN now.”

Fuck
. The bastard knew he was there.

“What a coincidence. There are so few of these M16s in the country.” Elliot was really enjoying sarcasm.

“His name is Jeff MacLean. I believe you know him.”

“I think most of Chicago knows him. Why don’t you step out and I’ll show you how well this gun works? I’m kinda in a hurry.”

“Why do you run toward the rippers when everyone else runs away.”


My
best friend is their prisoner. Look, dude, I know you’re hungry and all, but I’m not going to be a free lunch. Your best bet now is to get the hell out of here before I pass a shit load of lead through your brain.”

“Yes, I recognized your friend. He came to see me. And you must be the Dependable Rogue. Only he would try to fight through a ripper army for me. He and the Angry Captain of course.”

“You’re an Ericsian?”

“I’m beginning to think there’s something to the 1000 Souls. We haven’t much time if we’re going to save your friend, and I get the sense that you know a way in to where I want to go. I’m stepping into your gun sights.”

The figure, taller than Elliot, stepped through the hole in the glass, the white flare light silhouetting him, although enough light washed around for his features to be visible. For a ripper he kept himself nice—clean new clothes and running shoes. But he still had the alien quality to him, that strangeness about how he carried himself, as if preparing to lunge all the time, even though he stood tall. Elliot could shoot him now, but the ripper seemed familiar. Then he remembered Tevy’s story of meeting Bertrand Allan in the woods and later in Chicago in the bunker.

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