PLAN

HIS HEARING RETURNED first, as his system entered an automatic reboot. He could not see, speak, or move, but the sound of Deacon’s voice was reassuring.

“My friend better be all right,” Deacon said.

“Relax,” said the voice of a woman. “This thing only knocks them out temporarily. Your friend will be fine.”

“I’ll believe it when he wakes up. How long does it last?”

“It’s hard to say. It varies depending on the simmi. What do you think, Amber?”

A third voice responded, this of a young girl. “He’ll be up and running in a few minutes. Five, tops.”

“Wait,” Deacon said. “The red light’s blinking. Is he back on?”

“I don’t know,” the young girl said.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You’re the one who knocked him out, you little brat.”

“And you’re the one who’s been with him all summer, asshole.”

“You’ve used that thing before, haven’t you? Does the red light come on for other simmies?”

“We’ve never stuck around to find out.”

“Then why should I trust you at all? For all I know, you just fried his chip with that thing.”

“It’s not an industrial EMP, for Christ’s sake. We threw it together with a couple of double A batteries and duct tape.”

“Hey,” the older woman’s voice intervened. “The two of you calm down.”

Silas’s vision returned. He could hear and see, but still could not move or speak.

He was sitting in what looked to be the bedroom of an angst-ridden teenage boy. The walls were covered with large posters of cracked skulls and grotesque creatures. Hanging from the ceiling was a black light. Torn jeans and black shirts were strewn about the floor.

Deacon was sitting to his right, leaning against a cluttered desk. To his left was the woman who had grabbed and strangled Deacon. She wore an olive-green T-shirt, beige cargo pants, and a gray cap. Her dark brown ponytail poked out through the back. Standing beside her was a young girl. She wore a blue flannel shirt similar to Deacon’s, with a slightly different pattern, and a pair of loose jeans. Her hair was also in a ponytail, but its hue was fiery orange.

“Calm down?” Deacon repeated, walking toward them. “You attack us from behind, and you expect me to be calm about it? Why in the world would I be calm right now?”

The woman stepped in front of the girl. “Because if you’re not, that group out there is going to hear us. If that happens, they’ll either send someone out to find us or just skip town altogether.”

“Good. Let them leave.”

The girl stepped out from behind the woman. “No. We need the car.”

“Car?” Deacon said, stopping in his tracks.

“Yeah,” the woman said. “That’s why you were down there, isn’t it?”

“Lady, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I haven’t seen a working car in years.”

“Well, they have one and we want it.”

The girl poked her finger at Deacon’s chest. “We’d be cruising along the highway right now if you two hadn’t shown up.”

“Easy, Amber,” the woman said, pulling her back. “As far as I’m concerned, these two gentlemen are a blessing. We’ve just doubled our chances of getting that car. That is, if they’re willing to help.”

Deacon studied her face. “If it buys us a ride to New Valley, then sure, we’ll help.”

The woman nodded. “And your friend? I’ve heard of friendly simmies before, but I’ve never actually met one.”

“Trust me, Silas isn’t a threat.”

“This is the first time we’ve seen a person traveling with a simmi. What’s his number?”

Deacon hesitated. “Number? Phones stopped working ages ago. Did you forget?”

“She means his ID number,” the girl said. “Every simmi has one.”

Deacon shrugged. “I just call him Silas. He never mentioned an ID number.”

The girl shook her head. “You really don’t know that much about simmies, do you?”

“Hey, I’m getting old. Technology eludes me. There are a lot of things I should know that I don’t.”

“Lots of people don’t know about the ID numbers,” the woman said. “It’s not how Limbys chose to advertise them. They wanted their customers to feel like they were getting a one-of-a-kind product.”

The red light on Silas’s chest turned green. His reboot was complete, and his body was fully functional. “Four eight one,” he said. They all turned, startled by his interjection. “My ID number. It’s four eight one. Silas 481.”

The woman stuck out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Silas 481. I’m Laney, and this is Amber.”

The girl waved and pointed to his chest. “Nice heart, dude.”

Silas accepted Laney’s handshake and nodded to Amber.

“Wait a minute,” Deacon said. “We’ve been together this whole time, and you never told me your full name?”

Silas shrugged. “I’m the four hundred and eighty-first simmi to stem from the brain of a man named Silas. That’s the meaning behind it, but it’s just a number. It has no significance to me.”

“Still, it would have been nice to know.”

“You’ve never told me your last name.”

Deacon furrowed his brow. “Really? Hmm, I guess not. Well, better late than never. It’s Marsh. But don’t start calling me Mr. Marsh. I hate that crap.”

Amber marched in place like a soldier, waving a salute. “Yes, sir, Captain Marsh.”

Laney eyed the girl. “You’re a weird kid. Have I ever told you that?”

“All the time, and I take it as a compliment.”

Deacon shook his head and turned to Silas. “Are you hurt…or damaged…or whatever happens to simmies after getting hit with an EMP?”

Amber stopped her march and held up the device. “I already told you. This dinky little thing isn’t going to hurt him.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Deacon said. “I asked him.”

“Yes, I’m okay,” Silas said, examining the device in Amber’s hand. It was a simple box with a switch on the side. Strapped to the front was a copper coil, and on the back was a slot for batteries. “Where did you get that?”

“I built it myself,” Laney said.

“Impressive.”

Laney plucked the device from Amber and rotated it in her hands. “Thanks. It’s something I learned back in grade school.”

“Huh,” Deacon said. “I went to the wrong grade school.”

“I was in middle school. It was for the science fair.”

“An EMP for the science fair? What happened to potato light bulbs and baking soda volcanos?”

“Most of the other kids did stuff like that, but I liked to go the extra mile.”

“Ah, you were one of those.”

“Yeah, well, it’s paid off. This EMP has saved our skin more than once.”

“So now what?” Deacon asked. “You knocked us out with your little doodad, and now you’re just going to let us go?”

Laney wandered to the window to glance outside at the street. “As I mentioned before, I think we would benefit from working together.”

“You know what?” Deacon said. “I said yes before, but I’ve changed my mind. We’ve learned not to trust anyone. It’s a good way to get yourself killed.”

“If we wanted to kill you, we would have done so already. We don’t kill anyone without a good reason.”

Amber sneered. “Is the fact that he’s a prick a good enough reason?”

“Enough, Amber,” Laney commanded. “What’s our saying?”

Amber ignored the question.

“Amber,” Laney persisted. “What is our saying?”

The girl snapped out of her sarcasm and answered with a firm tone. “The world is not against us.”

“That’s right. What’s the point in making enemies when cooperation is the obvious choice? We get the car, and they get a ride to New Valley.”

Deacon looked out the window across the street. “You’re sure there’s a working car?”

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” She pointed out the window to the house down the street. “It pulled right out of that garage. I believe they use it for supply runs. It goes without saying, a working car is a valuable commodity.” She glanced back at Deacon. “Like I said, we didn’t stand much of a chance on our own, but now that there are four of us, we might be able to pull it off. Especially with your simmi on our side.”

“Let’s get something straight,” Deacon said. “Silas isn’t my simmi. I don’t own him. He makes his own decisions.” He grabbed Silas by the shoulder. “And I’ve got a feeling he doesn’t want to go down there and steal some car that may or may not work.”

“I think we should try,” Silas said.

“You what?”

“We should help, or at least try. We’re low on supplies. Randall’s stash is running low.” He pulled out an MRE from his bag. “And you refuse to eat these.”

Amber crumpled her face. “Those things are gross, dude.”

“See?” Deacon said, pointing at the girl. “She knows what she’s talking about.”

Silas stuffed the MRE back in his bag. “My point is, we don’t have enough supplies to make it to New Valley on foot. If there’s even a small chance that there’s a working car down there, I say it’s worth a shot.”

Deacon ran his finger through his hair. “You really want to go through with this?”

“I do.”

“Okay, then. Let’s do it.”

“We’ve already done some reconnaissance,” Laney said. “We’ve seen the inside of the house, and we generally know how they have things set up.”

“How?” Silas asked.

“They captured us,” Amber said. “That’s how we found the car in the first place.”

Laney nodded. “We’ve been trying to use what we learned to piece together a reliable plan.”

“It seems pretty simple to me,” Deacon said. “The garage was unguarded when we were down there earlier. We just pop in, grab the car, and drive off. Simple.”

“You’re right about the garage. For the most part, it’s left unguarded. We should be able to access the car without any trouble. The problem is the key.”

“A key?” Deacon interrupted. “Cars still use those things?”

“It’s an older model. To start it up, we need a good old-fashioned metal key. As far as we know, there’s only one copy. They keep it somewhere in the house. Based on our brief time in there, I would say there are about ten or fifteen people in that house.”

“They certainly outnumber us,” Silas said.

“That’s why we’re not shooting our way in,” Amber said.

“It’s also why we’re not going in through the front door,” Laney added. “I think it’s pretty obvious why that’s a bad idea.”

“We could bake up some cookies and dress the girl up,” Deacon said, pointing to Amber. “No one can resist the sweet taste of Girl Scout cookies.”

“Shut up,” Amber said, scrunching her nose. “Don’t even joke about dressing me up like that.”

“I’m surprised you know what the Girl Scouts are. They were before your time.”

“I’m not a hermit, man. Hitler was before your time, and amazingly, Captain Marsh knows who Hitler is.”

Deacon nodded. “Point taken. What if—”

“Don’t even think about dressing me up as Hitler.”

“That’s not what I was going to say, but now that you mention it, you never know; there could be a bunch of Hitler-loving neo-Nazis in there.”

“Can we please get back on topic?” Silas asked.

“Silas is right,” Laney said. “No more joking around. We’ll avoid the front door and go in through the basement. There’s a cellar door in the back yard. For whatever reason, they tend to avoid going downstairs, so it’s the perfect entry point for us.”

“Okay,” Deacon said. “Then what? Where do they keep the key?”

“That’s where things get tricky. Depending on whoever drove the car last, the key could be in a number of places. Sometimes they hang it on the wall. Other times they keep it in a drawer. A lot of the time they just keep it in one of their pockets. If that’s the case, it makes things a lot harder for us. We don’t want to be in there too long, so once we’re inside, we’ll split up to cover more ground.”

“Splitting up?” Silas said. “Do you really think that’s the best idea?”

“I do. We’ll move faster and quieter. It’s pretty damn hard to sneak around when you’re a cluster of four.”

“I agree,” Deacon said. “This isn’t a horror movie. We’ll be fine.”

“There are a few points of interest that we should check first. As far as I can tell, four people take turns driving the car. Any of them could have the key. Those four stay in the main house. The rest are in the house next door. That makes things easier for us, but we still need to be careful. If we cause any alarm, they’ll be on us like that.” She snapped her fingers. “We’ll split up and each follow one of the four. The head of their group is Joe Hannigan.”

“Ah, good old Joe Cowboy,” Deacon said with a grin.

“You know him?”

“We’ve met in the past. I can’t say I’m too fond of the guy, but his sense of style is a riot.”

“He’s not a pleasant man,” Laney agreed. “If you already know him, I don’t need to tell you how dangerous he is. He doesn’t drive the car as often as the others, but there’s still a chance he’ll have the key. Next is Tonya May, his partner, or lover, or whatever you want to call it. She may seem timid, but she’s just as dangerous as Joe. Don’t underestimate her. She can hold her own in a fight, and she doesn’t shy away from violence.”

“She beat the crap out of a guy right in front of us,” Amber said. “She gets nasty with her nails, too.”

“Valerie Hannigan,” Laney continued. “Sometimes she goes by Val. She’s Joe’s sister and a bit of a nut job. She’s all business, all the time. If you get in her way, she’ll tear you apart. She always gets what she wants.”

“I’m surprised she’s not in charge,” Amber said. “Joe’s a pushover compared to her.”

“And lastly, there’s Terry Schwartz, Joe’s best friend from back in grade school. Terry’s the odd one out of the bunch. Shy and unassuming. He has strong opinions but knows when to shut up and follow orders. His loyalty to Joe is what keeps him protected within their circle.”

“I’ll take Joe,” Deacon said. “He clocked me in the face a few dozen times. Maybe I can return the favor.”

“Don’t do anything rash,” Laney said. “We want to stay hidden.”

“I know. I’ll restrain myself. At the very least I can flip him off behind his back.”

“I’ll take Terry,” Amber said. “He’s such a dope, it’s fun to watch.”

“Actually,” Deacon said, “Silas should take Terry.” He turned to Silas. “No offense, buddy, but this Terry guy seems the least threatening. The way little Miss Girl Scout talks over here, she sounds like she can handle herself. You, on the other hand, couldn’t hurt a cricket if your life depended on it.”

“Very well,” Laney said. “So, Amber will take Valerie, and I’ll take Tonya.”

“Fine with me,” Amber said. “Val’s fun to watch, too.”

Laney shot a stern look at the girl. “Take this seriously, Amber. It’s not a game. These people will hurt you if they get the chance.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”

“After fifteen minutes, we’ll regroup behind the garage. If no one has the key by then, we’ll go back in and search some more.”

Amber nudged Silas with her elbow. “Looks like you and I have upstairs duty.”

“What?” Silas said, not quite sure what she meant.

“Val and Terry’s rooms are upstairs.”

“That’s right,” Laney said. “Joe and Tonya tend to stay in the living room and kitchen. Terry and Valerie each took a bedroom on the second floor. The rest of the group is scattered around. There’s no way to know how many will be in the house until we get inside. Sometimes they wander from one house to the other. If someone does spot you, take them out quickly and quietly. It’s important to stay hidden. They’ll hear when we start up the car, but hopefully we’ll be long gone by the time they figure out what’s going on.”

“Got it,” Deacon said. “Search the place for fifteen minutes, then head to the garage. And if I find the key, go to the garage and wait.”

“That last part is important,” Laney said. “I know we barely know each other. Trust is rare nowadays, but if you happen to find the key, I trust that you won’t leave us behind. I assure you, if it’s the other way around, we’ll wait.”

“Honestly,” Amber said, “I don’t know if I trust them, Laney.”

Laney knelt down to meet her eyes. “I know it feels weird to work with a simmi, but—”

“I don’t have a problem with the simmi.” She tilted her head toward Deacon. “I don’t trust this guy to stick around.”

“You don’t trust me?” Deacon asked, walking up to her. “You jump us in broad daylight. You choke me. You knock my friend out. And now you’re the one who doesn’t trust me?”

“Quit it, Amber,” Laney said. “He’s right. He has every reason not to trust us, but he’s helping anyway.”

“Only because he wants the car for himself. He’s just going to drive off and leave us trapped in a house full of nut jobs.”

With a cold glare, Laney repeated her previous question. “What is our saying?”

“But—”

“Amber. What is our saying.”

The girl let out a sigh of defeat. “The world is not against us.”

“That’s right. It’s easy to assume that everyone’s guilty, but that’s no way to live your life. Sure, there are bad people out there. Joe and his crew fit into that category. But humanity’s stuck in a ditch, and the only way to dig ourselves out is to start trusting one another.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Amber said, backing away and staring out the window. “Can we get on with this heist already? There’s no point in waiting.”

“Right,” Laney said. “We all know the plan, so let’s get to it. Amber, pack up and get ready.”

The girl trotted across the room. Her backpack was sitting on a desk by the wall. Next to her bag was a handful of firearms. She slid a handgun into the holster on her waist and stuffed the rest into her bag.

Laney retrieved a box from the corner and handed it to Deacon. “I think these are yours.”

He opened the box to see it was filled with their confiscated weapons. Joe’s stolen six-shooter sat at the bottom. He reached in and pulled it out. “Silas, take this.” He opened the cylinder to make sure it was loaded. Six bullets. Fully loaded and ready to go. He snapped it shut and spun the gun around, holding it out handle first.

Silas stared at the lethal weapon, remembering how he had felt when he was pointing the rifle at Randall, unable to pull the trigger.

Deacon moved closer and tapped the handle to Silas’s chest. “We’re either in or we’re out. We can walk away now, but if we want that ride to New Valley, we can’t go halfway.”

Silas finally gripped the handle and placed it in his bag.

“We have extra holsters,” Laney said. “Amber, hand me one.”

Amber pulled out a leather holster and tossed it across the room.

Laney caught it and handed it to Silas. “This should help.”

“Here,” Deacon said. “I’ll help you put it on.” He wrapped the strap around Silas’s waist and fastened the intricate buckle in front. “Man, this thing’s the real deal. Wild West certified.”

“It’s certainly got a nice Western flavor,” Laney said. “We snagged it from Joe while he wasn’t looking.”

“Ah, it’s Joe’s. That explains it.” Deacon stepped back to look at Silas. “You’re turning into one hell of a cowboy yourself.”

Laney grabbed her own bag and tightened the straps around her shoulders. “Hurry up!” she called to Amber. “We aren’t coming back, so make sure you have everything.”

“That’s right,” Deacon said. “Tomorrow we’ll either be strolling down the highway in a new set of wheels, or we’ll be buried six feet under.”

“They won’t take the time to bury us,” Amber said. “They’ll just leave us out to rot.”

Deacon smiled. “Option A it is, then.”