“That was our own Chuck Upton on location in New Jersey. For those of you tuning in late, the Governor of New Jersey, Pete Curry, has released a statement that his preliminary findings back up the claim that a US Navy Tomahawk cruise missile has been fired at New Jersey from a submerged source. We’ll replay the footage taken by our affiliate station WPVI reporters, who were covering an unrelated crime story in the Jersey Pine Barrens when the missile crash landed among state police investigators. The missile failed to detonate, but markings seen in the footage seem to indicate it was a live antipersonnel variant. Navy response teams have arrived at the scene, which, from all accounts, resulted in a very tense confrontation with the New Jersey State Police.”
I could feel the others standing behind me, watching the clips that showed a chaotic scene of reporters, cops, and one lone missile. Then there was footage taped from a news helicopter that showed the same scene from the air, including a long line of military vehicles arriving on site. There was also amateur video of a shooting star flashing down into a distant ocean, shakily taken from the beach with a cell phone.
The attractive anchor came back on screen, sitting across from a squared-away, serious-looking, fiftyish man in a nice gray suit.
“Joining me now is ABC National Security Consultant Keith Ortega, who served on the Bush Administration Security Council. Welcome, Keith.”
“Thank you, Melissa, and thanks for having me here.”
“What are your impressions from both the aerial footage of the missile crash scene and this clip taken of the satellite crash zone?”
New footage popped on screen, taken from the air and showing Coast Guard and other vessels, some displaying DHS in large letters, searching an area of the ocean. Several Coast Guard and military helicopters hovered over the water, powerful search lights playing across the roiling sea.
“So far, the only official word has been that it was an old commercial satellite, yet as you can see, Melissa, the search is being run by Homeland Security. That tells me that it was most likely a military or intelligence asset that crashed.”
“And from what eyewitnesses have asserted, the crash happened right in the same area as the missile launch was observed. Any chance the submarine that launched the missile was impacted or damaged?”
“I would say almost certainly not, Melissa. Most of the spacecraft would have been incinerated by the heat of reentry. The small portion that made it to the ocean surface wouldn’t have been able to penetrate deep enough endanger a sub. Also, Melissa, remember that subs generally don’t sit still, particularly after a launch.”
“Keith, the conspiracy theorists are out in huge waves after this one, offering everything from an attempted coup to such implausable things as demon and vampire attacks. As outlandish as all those theories are, I have yet to hear anything plausible to explain a Navy missile strike against the Jersey Pine Barrens and an immediate crash of a spy satellite, have you?”
“The biggest question, Melissa, is who ordered that launch. These things don’t launch themselves, and there is a tight chain of command and control. Also, if a foreign power, say China or Russia, has developed the technology to somehow turn our own satellites into weapons while removing our area intelligence capability, then we are in dire trouble.”
“Thank you, Keith. We’ll be hearing more from you as more information rolls in. For now, we need to go to a station break, but stay tuned for further updates in what some are calling the Bombing of the Barrens.”
“You almost hit the sub?” Lydia asked.
“Not really. As the guy said, subs keep moving and there’s a big difference between a flimsy satellite and a nickel iron asteroid. More of a message, really.”
“Yeah, a really big FU,” Stacia said.
“So, are we safe here?” I asked, looking between Tanya and Arkady.
“Relatively. We need to keep our heads down both in the digital, electronic world and in the real world. Lots of cameras in public places and as the whole world knows, the NSA can tap any of it,” Tanya said while Arkady nodded.
“What about the rest of the crew… back at the factory?” I asked.
“I called and told them to go to ground… when I went to the media vans. Borrowed a phone,” Tanya said. “But let’s talk about the fact that someone launched a Tomahawk at us.”
“Well, I guess that answers the question of whether they want a war or not,” I said.
Tanya shared a glance with Arkady, reminding me that they had been riding together on the trip here and would have had lots of time to talk about it. “We’re not so sure. I, for one, don’t know the chain of command that allows a sub captain to let a missile off its leash. I’m pretty sure the President isn’t the only one. Think of all the practice shots that ships and subs make.”
“Particularly before a deployment,” Arkady said. “Sub might have thought it was target practice or systems check.”
“So what do we do?” Stacia asked.
“We keep our heads down and gather intel. But I’m serious about staying off the Web, at least with any equipment that can be traced to us and
if
we find another route, we stay away from any of our accounts, websites, or emails. Just general searches like any other citizen might make.”
“We could get the papers in the morning,” Stacia suggested. “Nothing to trace there.”
“Or better yet, ask Marnie to buy papers along with the food items that you list for her,” Lydia said.
“We also sleep in watches. Someone always awake, always on guard,” Arkady said. “Trenton and I will split the early hours watch, from two a.m. till sunrise.”
“Chris and I can split the daytime,” Stacia suggested.
The sound of running feet brought our attention to the escape tunnel just as ‘Sos came trotting out. He stopped and shook his body, spraying a little bit of dust and dirt, leaving just a few cobwebs in his thick fur. He gave me a soft woof as I pulled the webbing off him, his demeanor calm and self-satisfied.
“I think our escape routes are clear,” I said, actually quite certain of that answer.
“Well then, let’s get this place set up and then Lydia and I are going to see what more we can glean from the news,” Tanya said.
‘”I’ve got first watch,” Trenton said, heading back toward the entrance.
“I think I want to see these tunnels for myself. No offense,” Arkady said with a nod at Awasos, who just yawned.
“I’m gonna grab some sleep so I’m fresh for the morning watch,” I said.
“Me too,” Stacia said, then amended quickly, “but in the other bunk room.”
Everyone got busy. Some loading perishables and blood into the fridge, others making up the beds while Trenton patrolled up in the barn. Soon enough, I was stretched out on one of the twin beds, trying to shut down my brain. The television played softly in the other room, Lydia and Tanya silent as they flipped from one newscast to another. I could hear running water from Stacia’s shower and beside me, a small mountain of fur rustled as ‘Sos settled into a comfortable position. We were hunted and hiding, camped out underground, but for the first time all day, I felt reasonably safe. As I faded into sleep, I wondered how long that feeling would last.
Chapter 12
Tanya woke me near dawn, yawning as she simply slid into my spot, snuggling into my already warmed-up bunk. ‘Sos looked at me with big, blinking eyes, then went back to sleep. I kissed my vampire good day, which elicited a retching noise from the next bed over where Lydia was pretending to look disgusted, threw a pillow at the mini-vampire, and headed to the kitchenette. I sensed Arkady and Trenton in the same bunkroom as Stacia, but whereas I could hear her heartbeat and slow breathing, I got almost no noise from the comatose warriors. Daylight puts vampires into a state of stupor that is very difficult for them to shrug off. Only the very old could function well during the hours that the sun was up. Arkady, at four hundred, could stay awake, but it was more zombie than alert warrior.
I warmed up two prepackaged egg and bacon breakfast sandwiches in the microwave along with a cup of water for instant coffee. After deciding it was too early for much news, I headed up to the barn, eating my breakfast while sitting on the Camaro and listening to the countryside waking up. Prowling around the empty barn, I found a rear entrance that led to a pole barn structure that may have once housed farm equipment but now held a sloppy pile of firewood. Several axes and a splitting maul were haphazardly strewn about the mostly un-split logs and I got the impression that Jimmy only bothered with the work when the supply on his farmhouse porch got too low. Circling around the barn, I observed the house, noting a light on in the kitchen and hearing the sounds of waking children getting ready for school.
Forty minutes later, two teenaged children stumbled out the door and trudged to the end of the driveway. The skinny boy must have been a junior or senior in high school, and his sister was a couple of years younger and a stocky contrast to his leaness. Ordinary looking kids who seemed to have no idea what lurked above and below the barn they took for granted.
About five minutes later, they disappeared into a big yellow school bus and I was left with the sounds of Marnie cleaning up the kitchen and Jimmy still snoring in his bed. When Marnie came outside to get an armload of wood to feed the woodstove, I approached her, scuffing my feet to keep from startling her. She still jumped.
“Ah, hi.” Brilliant start on my part. “I didn’t introduce myself last night. I’m Tony,” I said, using the short version of my middle name. We had already decided on keeping our real names on the down low.
She had sucked in a short, quick breath at the foot shuffle. Now she just looked a little shocked.
“I have that list of items that was mentioned last night, along with some cash,” I said, handing her the list and seven hundred dollars in twenties and fifties. She took them tentatively, still looking startled and now just a little scared.
“Okay, I’ll get out of your day now,” I said, turning to walk away.
“I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect to see anyone out in…” she trailed off, but I realized what she meant.
“In the daylight?” I asked. She nodded.
“A couple of us are not the same as the others. Altogether different. But we’ll stay out of sight mostly,” I said. She looked at me for a moment, then her head lifted her head to see past me to the barn. A glance over my shoulder showed me what she was looking at—‘Sos sitting at the corner of the barn, watching.
“Like I said, mostly.”
“I will get these things this morning, early, before too many people are up and around,” she said. Her meaning was pretty clear. There was a lot of meat and other foods on the list, much more than a family of four would require. Maybe more than a family of six.
I left Marnie and headed back to the barn and my waiting were bear-wolf. I also found Stacia sitting on the splitting stump, watching the rising sun. She had sweatpants and a tight blue t-shirt on. Like me, the chill air did not seem to affect her supernatural metabolism.
“Making friends with the farmer’s wife?” she asked without turning around.
“Just giving her our shopping list,” I said.
“Hmmpf. Next you’ll be shaking hands and kissing babies,” she muttered, still watching the sun.
“I just gave her the list,” I repeated, sitting next to her on the chopping block. “What bit you in the ass?”
She turned and grimaced. “Sorry. I’m not loving being here in east bejesus in a smelly barn basement with a herd of vampires.”
“Oh. I kinda thought this might feel like home?” I asked.
“That’s the problem. Too much like home. I escaped that and I was able to take Mom with me. Now I live in one of the most exciting cities on the planet. Yet here I am.”
“Oh,” I said. My therapist vocabulary was sadly lacking. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here, Stacia. You should be with the Pack, not caught up in my troubles. Hunted by the government.”
“No Chris, that’s not it. I like being a part of your team. I don’t care about the hunted part. I just don’t like seeing this family stuck on this farm like this. There’s a couple of kids here, you know. One of them will likely have to take over the
family
business someday. Can you imagine? Stuck on a dying farm in the middle of nowhere with no future?” She put two fingers against her temple, gun style, and dropped her thumb hammer, making a soft, little
pow
noise.
“Yeah, I think the wife is a little beat down by life,” I said, really thinking about her words. If my abilities hadn’t appeared, I might have taken over my grandfather’s farm, living out a life kind of like this.
“Life and that leech of a husband,” Stacia said. She reached down between her feet and picked up a box of Cheerios, grabbing a handful and pouring them into her mouth.
“Not much for bowls and milk, huh?”
“Wiseass! We didn’t
grab
any milk,” she replied.