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Authors: Mark Tufo

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Indian Hill (32 page)

BOOK: Indian Hill
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“Frank, how is Generator Four doing? Paul asked

“So far so good but it’s going to need a new valve before the winter sets in. We don’t want to get caught up here without enough juice when the snow sets in.”

“Alright I’m running down to
Boulder
today, I heard there are three more recruits and a couple of thousand dollars in donations coming our way. Ask the men if there is anything special they want while I’m in town. Oh, and Frank...”

“Yeah,” Frank said as he turned back around.

“Tell the men that two out of the three new recruits are women, and if they are anything but perfect gentlemen, I will let you use them for targets.”

“Yes sir,” Frank said with a grin. He knew Paul wasn’t kidding. “Dude, you really should have been in the Marines.”

“Dude huh? Is that a military term?” Paul smiled. “Naw, I could have never been in the Marines especially with those god-awful haircuts.”

“You mean high and tights?”

“Yeah those friggen things, besides women love this long hair.”

“Well I guess we all have our faults,” Frank snorted. “I’ll get Bivouac Eight set up for the women.”

“Frank.”

“Yeah boss.”

“Make sure there are no extra holes in the sides.”

“I’ll check on it myself, Paul. Drive safe, see you tonight. Hey, why don’t you snag some Mickey D’s on the way back. Stop at the one in
Georgetown
and tell the manager, a pencil necked little geek named Richard, that you know me. He’ll hook you up.”

“Excellent, and get on Dewey will you, his shooting is terrible. I don’t even want to be in the same room with him when he shoots darts.”

Frank smiled. “Hey Paul, someone has to be on the front line of defense.”

“Alright, alright I’ll be back in a few hours.” Paul turned and hopped into his brand new Jeep Wrangler courtesy of the dealership owner who had a son training here at this very moment. What a strange twist of events his freshman year had turned out to be. His dad had told him these would be the most memorable times of his life. Somehow he figured this wasn’t what
he
had meant. ‘Mike, I swear to you and Beth that I will avenge your deaths.’ He felt with utter conviction that all those people had been slaughtered and he meant to do all that was in his growing power to do something about it.

 

CHAPTER 33

Washington
D.C.
 

“Dr. Schoville, what are the chances that the aliens can see that bomb?” the President asked with just a little more conveyed tension than he wished the cabinet members to see.

“Well Mr. President, I think the proof is in the pudding,” the professor answered in all seriousness.

“Dr. Schoville, pardon me,” the President said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m tired and I’m more than a little worried, what exactly do you mean?”

“Well sir,” the professor said without missing a beat. “Our shuttle is still there. If they suspected the magnitude of the device on board I have no doubt that they would have eliminated it a long time ago. And to be honest with you sir, they still have a long way to go and we know the aliens could strike at their leisure.”

“And that is my concern,” the President noted.

“Mr. President, if I may.” Captain
Moirane
stood up.

“By all means Captain, your opinion is always welcome here.”

“Well sir, like the good professor noted, if they knew of the device on board they would have eliminated the threat as soon as the shuttle left the planet. With that new platinum wrap around the warhead I don’t think even the most advanced scanning equipment in the galaxy would detect anything more than some random naturally occurring
radiation
.”

“Captain, what is the prognosis for the crew of the shuttle?” the President said , once again rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Sir, they were all volunteers and they knew exactly what they were getting into,” the Captain answered as neutrally as possible.

“I know they were volunteers. I am asking you as a military person, what do you believe their odds of coming back from this are?”

“Sir, knowing that they have to get close enough to loose that missile without giving the aliens a chance to blow it up or move their ship... well sir, they’d never be able to get their ship far enough away in time, they
'll
be killed by the initial blast.”

“So in your expert opinion you think...”

“I think we should be preparing drafts for the parents, wives and children of those men.”

“Thank you Captain, that is all.” The President sat back down in his chair, bracing himself for the whopper of a migraine that was mere moments away. But he knew he had one more task to complete before this night was through.

“Alright, everybody is dismissed for the evening but please wake me should any new events arise.” Although he was fairly certain sleep would once again not visit the White House. “Captain.”

“Yes sir.”

“Send in Mrs. Cavanaugh on your way out.”

“Yes sir, right away sir.”

Mrs. Cavanaugh was the President’s personal secretary and had been at his side since he was a lowly district man back in
Massachusetts
. She entered the room and assessed the situation at a moment’s glance. “Joseph, why don’t you go upstairs and get some sleep,” Mrs. Cavanaugh suggested with concern written all over her face.

“I would love to Mrs. C, but the fate of the world I fear is resting squarely on my shoulders.”

“It’s going to be tough to hold the weight of the world up when you yourself are barely standing.”

“Point well taken, but I have to do this one final thing before I call it a night. Could you please take some dictation for me?”

“Certainly Joseph.”

“Mrs. C, when are you going to start calling me by my title?”

“Joseph, I’ve known you since you were a wet eared kid out of Harvard, you’ve never called me Betty and I’ve never called you by whatever title you had at the time. That’s just who we are. I see no reason to change that now.”

“I guess you’re right Mrs. C. Now is not the time to change anything more than what already has been. That’s the first time I’ve felt like smiling in the last month,” the President said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Ah, there is the Joseph I know and love.”

“And now back to the reason why I wanted you here.”

“Do you want me to start on the letters to the families of the shuttle crew?”

“Mrs. C, you really need to stop listening at the door.”

“How else am I going to make sure that you’re doing the right thing? Go to bed Joseph, I’ve written enough of these letters to know how it’s done.”

“And that’s the problem Mrs. Cavanaugh, I keep sending brave young men to their deaths and here we are safe and warm in our home.”

“It’s the lot you drew in life and don’t go feeling all sorry for yourself, you are a true leader of men. You’ve averted at least two great wars since your time in office and the one war you had to fight you made decisive decisions that saved the lives of countless thousands. And you are now sending some of this country’s bravest men on a suicide mission to save potentially the lives of billions. You’ve known all along that the few always have to be sacrificed for the many.”

“Once again Mrs. C you’ve gone where none of my top advisors will ever go. You tell it to me straight. Not necessarily what I want to hear, but always what I need to hear. But no, I will not leave you here alone to write these letters.” Mrs. Cavanaugh began to protest but the President just motioned her to sit back down.

“Dear Mr. and Mrs…”

 

CHAPTER 34
– Journal Entry 24

With one week to go I did not have a lot of confidence in my alliance with
Troy
, was a nod enough to trust my life to this man? I watched his bouts, but I saw no overt signs of him being any less sane than myself. As far as I could tell he also didn’t hurt his women. Maybe this made him honorable or maybe it didn’t but my best chance still lay with him. Deb had become more reclusive than I ever had and Stephanie had practically vanished from sight. Tanya slowly but surely took over the daily household affairs. The house had seemed a lot more subdued th
ose l
ast few weeks, possibly due to the fact that the end was so near, and nobody knew their fates, not with any certainty anyway. I conditioned my body for six hours a day, whether it was on the treadmill or practicing martial arts movements. I was quite literally impressed with the machine I had become. Too bad it took death matches to get me into shape, but for good or bad I was a bona fide lean mean killing machine. The women folk seemed especially nervous this time around or maybe my senses were just a little bit more heightened, either way I was walking on the edge of a razor. It hurt to walk up there but it beat falling off into the abyss. I said my prayers and had a sort of group hug with the women more so for them than me. I was attempting distance, but women are like that, all touchy feely, what are you gonna do.

I headed off to the games. I walked into the arena first because I was the lowest ranking which this time didn’t bother me that much, it gave me a chance to survey the
field
that much longer. The aliens had scaled down the football size arena into something more along the size of arena football. And this
time it
was round unlike its rectangular predecessors. I guess it gave them the chance to squeeze more fans into th
e
place. And it also gave none of the competitors any advantage. We would all be let in at equi-distant points around the circle. Leonard entered next and was not given a rousing applause, apparently his lack of variety in the kill didn’t sit well with the masses. And there it was, my extra time paid off. His weapon of choice was about thirty yards to his left and forty yards to my right. My mind was racing, could I get there before him? He was scrawny but he was fast and he had a ten yard head start. And the footing could be treacherous. It was a jungle motif, but not a necessarily dense one. They must have had complaints about obstructed views of kills. There were trees and vines but they were spread out, mostly there were twisted roots on the ground. Running could prove perilous. Troy was finally led in on the far end of the circle, he was a good sixty or seventy yards away from the action, and I still had no way to tell which side if any he was playing for. The buzzer lit and I hauled ass. Leonard saw my move and also started to sprint. Shit, I thought to myself, he’s friggen fast. I had made up about five yards before he fully realized what I was attempting to do. But that was it, he was closing in fast, would he have enough time to grab the bow, turn and fire? I almost faltered, my feet slid, and the aliens went nuts. They were expecting an early kill, well they were right. He was less than ten feet away and I was twenty to twenty-five feet away. I almost sheared off, had there been anywhere around to take cover I would have. But I was out in the open and I was committed. I didn’t even want to turn to see what
Troy
was up to, for all I knew he was sitting back at his entrance just waiting to see which one of us bought it first. Not a bad idea, I wish I had thought of
it
. I was still running full tilt when I noticed Leonard had a small problem with the bow, the string got hung up on the hook it was suspended from. I just might make it, and then it came free. Damn he brought it up fast. I had so fully committed myself to the charge I didn’t even bring a knife to a bow and arrow fight. So I did the only thing that I could, I ran straight into him. Not as if I was tackling him, but I just kept running as if he was never there. There was a loud snap as we collided, I was pretty sure I had dislocated my left shoulder. I guess the protrusion from my shoulder gave it away, that and the flaring pain, but I had taken the little bastard’s rib out, he was screaming like a little girl. But it didn’t stop him, he knew the drill. My momentum had driven him against the wall and that had lent him some support, to my regret he had never let go of the bow. I was carried directly into the wall, and unfortunately these weren’t padded like in major league baseball, no, these had more the consistency of National Hockey League walls. I crumpled like a tin can, I hope
d
he
'd mak
e a clean hit. I rolled over to face my exodus, Leonard had finally regained enough of his poise to stop his screaming. I think I punctured one of his lungs because he was sucking a lot of air, but his five minutes of life were ten times the amount that I was looking at. He raised his bow and pulled the string back and then his face just disappeared. The cavalry had come! Troy had planted his mace square in Leonard’s face. The arrow still came dangerously close to my head, but to this day I will never forget the vision of Leonard’s face turning into pulp right before my eyes. Fragments of bone and tissue flew everywhere, and an eyeball went into the stands where one of the Progerians made a handy snack out of it. It was if I was watching life one frame at a time, I could watch as each individual pieces of his face went flying into different directions. Then time stood still and then it raced ahead; Troy was coming my way and he had a mace, I was still partially dazed from my wall contact and I’m pretty sure I had a concussion. Well, I thought to myself, at least I made it easy for him. And then he surprised the hell out of me, he offered his hand. The aliens were pissed, they were throwing things on the arena floor. Some of the debris looked like femurs; they probably had a fried leg stand somewhere in th
at
hell hole. Well it couldn’t get any worse, I figured he could either kill me on the ground or standing up. At this point it made little difference to me.

BOOK: Indian Hill
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