The CyberTruck screeched to a halt as it arrived at JFK’s terminal. Joe dived out and headed right inside, clocking the police over by the United check-ins.
‘Joe Jones, Level 2, NYC. I’ve been sent over by Robinson. I think you have my wife and child?’
‘Right this way, sir,’ beckoned the officer as they disappeared in through a side door where normal people were not meant to pass.
Joe stood on the tarmac at the airport, staring at the smouldering wreckage of the plane that had brought his estranged wife and son back to New York. He had never felt so helpless in his life. He knew that the AI controlling the airport’s traffic systems had malfunctioned causing the plane to crash on landing. And he knew that this was only the beginning of a much larger problem.
‘BENJI!’ he cried out as the unharmed but dirty-faced little boy ran to him. The sweetest and tightest of hugs followed as Monica stood a surly distance to one side, though even her resting bitch face cracked into a smile when she saw the genuine love and happiness between her two boys.
‘Joe, what’s going on. Oh my God,’ she exclaimed, and opened out for a hug that was long overdue and was held onto just that little bit longer, which signified they were both enjoying it and were glad of each other.
‘There’s big trouble worldwide with all sorts of systems, Monica. Something big is going down. Let’s get out of here and get you safe.’
No words needed be exchanged further as the man Monica fell in love with was back in front of her. He was the fixer. He made things happen. And she felt…safe.
The CyberTruck felt even safer with its juxtaposition of solid metal angles on the outside and the most comfortable soft curves of the leather in the back seats. ‘CIM, get us to Monica’s place. Avoid the highways. Local roads only,’ barked Joe at his digital car assistant as the suggested route flashed up on the dash. Before the monotone could reply, Joe followed up with, ‘Yes, route confirmed. Override speed limiter. Password a6r23#. And get us there quickly please.’
‘Estimated journey time 23 minutes. Please fasten seat belts and we will begin.’
The roads out of the airport were busy alright, with emergency services trying to get in and a heck of a lot of people trying to get out.
‘Police override. Work mode please. Password a6r23#,’ shouted Joe as the CIM then swerved around a horde of very obedient GCabs in front of them and tried to overtake on the verges.
Making the first left out of the airport was easy enough, but then more verge work as the CyberTruck careered around the Pan-Am Highway and past the graveyard of the former employee parking lot, which was now full of vacant GCabs waiting for their next instruction.
Benji was unusually quiet so Joe tried his best to reassure his little buddy with a big squeeze of the arm and a flick of the nose.
‘Home soon, bud. It’s gonna be—’
The GCab in front reared up as it almost drove over the exact same model in front. Away on the next block the fireball rose high as the fuselage skidded along the street collecting lampposts as if it was playing an old runner-style video game where you had to gobble up the coins. Joe leaned right over Benji and grabbed Monica’s arm as she screamed, before pirouetting into the driver’s seat and barking more commands at the CIM.
‘CIM, manual police mode. Password a6r23#. Release the wheel, please. I have control.’
Joe slammed the car hard left and just made it past the pile-up in front of him at the intersection. The fireball was now well behind and over his shoulder, but the danger still filled his peripheral vision. Then instinct took over and he drove like he had been taught to way back in the old days, before everyone lost their cars as possessions.
‘Don’t worry, Benji, Monica, I’ve got this. Let’s just get you home.’ He tried to be as calm as possible despite the fact his heart felt as if it was going to burst out of his chest. These days there wasn’t ever this much excitement, though this wasn’t the type of excitement he ever wanted again.
Swerving around yet another near-invisible GCab—they all looked the same—he just managed to avoid another faceless metal chariot coming the other way, no doubt shouting ‘WARNING’ at its unsuspecting passengers as it hit the emergency to avoid a collision. Joe scanned ahead and could see blank gantry after unlit gantry overhead on Flatlands Avenue as he tried to remember the way down to Bath Beach, avoiding the Belt Parkway at all costs. More cars equalled more trouble in his mind, and he just wanted to take a straight route through populated areas so if things went south, he could get Monica and Benji somewhere indoors to safety.
‘Show me the latest live news on CNN please, CIM,’ commanded Joe as he calmly avoided another dumb chariot and bounced two wheels up on the kerb so he could dodge the outside of a bus that had just pulled into the middle lane.
The screen flickered in the dash with the two rear passenger windows coming to life as auxiliary TVs for the viewers. Live pictures of Manhattan were being broadcast as two huge automated police robots marched on a crowd of masked people, all storming down Fifth Avenue towards the Empire State Building.
The screens then cut to London with shots of police fighting with protestors on the streets on London, then quickly to Paris before settling back on New York.
‘…and we cut live now to JFK where authorities are cleaning the wreckage of the earlier clash between the two planes. We are hearing there could be up to 40 casualties. Let’s go live to our reporter Jamie Weatherley—’
‘Turn it off, CIM,’ sobbed Monica as she clasped Benji ever tighter in her arms.
‘Tell me, Joe, what is going on?’
The traffic was a little calmer now, though every few blocks something was happening that was not normal. A shop window was being kicked in, there were still no traffic lights anywhere, sirens were wailing with AutoBikes zipping in all directions. It was if someone had just turned the life dial to crazy and everyone had just gone nuts all at once.
Nearly there.
‘There’s some kid from England. He’s been messing with Google and with code that’s affecting all sorts of systems. Do you know Suki? He kidnapped her last night. I happened to be at the Barclays Center when it all went down, and then the top brass dragged me into the investigation. We got him heading up to Canada and she’s safe, but he’s a real head case. He’s done things, Monica, and I think what’s happening now is small fry compared to what is going to happen.’
‘Jesus!’ exclaimed Monica as she held her hand across Benji’s face, as if trying to shield him from the conversation and stop the bad things from reaching his consciousness.
‘Is Suki OK, Daddy? I did a song with her yesterday,’ cried Benji, as clearly Monica’s attempt at shielding was futile.
‘Yeah, fine buddy, we got her away from the bad guy and she’s safe now. She’s being looked after by the police in Boston. They sent her there in a lovely helicopter last night, so she’s doing good.’
The streets were still busy and completely chaotic.
‘Not long now, let me just…’ Joe swerved again as yet another GCab slowed in front of him.
‘If I swing around the playground road, it’ll be faster. Hold on, Benji. Am I driving OK, buddy?’
Joe’s attempt to make humour of the situation at least brought a little smirk from the frightened little boy. ‘You good, Daddy,’ he was able to reply, as Monica continued to fuss and grip him tightly.
Bath Beach had long been their home together, their neighbourhood, and while not the most glamorous part of the world, it at least had a beach, even if that was really a motorway. Joe knew the area like the back of his hand, and he was comfortable off their large former lot, which was now home to just Monica and Benji. It would still be safe enough for them to ride this out while he had to get back to the makeshift HQ in the Javits building pronto.
‘Stokes, hey!’ exclaimed Joe as the face of his boss and buddy appeared on the front dash. ‘I got them. Just dropping them off now. I’ll be back at Javits in 30. I’ve had to go manual, man. It’s crazy out here.’ His sit rep, while welcome, was the least of the worries etched into Stokes’ face.
‘Hurry, Joe, this shit is getting bad. I’m trying to stop Guzman from offing himself at what he’s just heard from the British kid. Get everyone safe and do not let them go out until they hear from either me or you in person, OK? Even if that takes a week.’
‘Copy that,’ said Joe hurriedly, as he half anticipated the graveness of the message and tapped the dash to end the call so Stokes could say no more.
He could see the Bay ahead of him now, and slammed the CyberTruck into a wild halt like he’d forgotten how to slow down. Or perhaps his right leg was actually welded to the accelerator.
The house was right on the corner, facing the Shore Parkway, save for a short access around the front and a metal halfway fence juxtapositioned with the trees that tried to shade the six-laned expressway before you hit the water. The red brick contrasted with the white plastic of the windows and the guttering. It was a very large plot, very homely, with a half-height wall and a higher decorative metallic fence above that providing a barrier to the world and the neighbours. A solitary tree, mature and likely old, was poking through the concrete paving in the grounds, and a well-kept plethora of pots and plants were scattered around the front giving the place a tidy and homely feel.
Bundling everyone in through the front door, Joe immediately ran around pulling every shutter and curtain tight shut.
‘HIM, enable all window locks. Put the house on holiday mode. No one on the grounds or the alarm goes to me. Is that understood? I’m leaving in a minute, and when I do, triple lock the front door, and keep everything out. And not one of the doors is to be opened without my password. Understood?’
Monica looked less than pleased with that last instruction. Joe caught her facial expression and deflected by gesturing towards the basement. ‘Come down here. Let me show you.’
‘Joe, this isn’t your place anymore. All I have down here is a load of dirty washing. And we are not hiding.’
He shut her off with a quick tug at the wrist and hurtled down the stairs into the dark dungeon, totally ignoring the laundry and the machines. Fixing on a brick at the back wall, he took out his Swiss army knife and hacked away at the plaster around the edges, pulling the brick clean, which then revealed a handle. Pulling the rope loop on the handle led to half the wall sliding out and a piece of racking—almost 5 feet tall and a few feet deep—came away on wheels, revealing the contents of the shelves. A gun, ammo, huge bottles of water, a battery, an axe, tins of all sorts, fruit, ravioli, cans of soda, toilet paper, tablets. What was all this?
‘Surprise,’ smirked Joe as Benji stood wide-eyed in front of all the amazing bounty.
‘I did this years ago, just before World War Three when they forced us into the four-day week for the first time. I really thought things with the Russian–Chinese alliance were going to go south, so I started this up as my little side project. Well disguised, huh? There are some candles in case the electric goes out; sleeping bags in case you really need to be down here; and I got that radio and TV there rigged up with batteries. The HIM will sort out the signal once you switch it on, so don’t worry. We need to stay connected. This is a sat phone, totally off grid. I’ll take the other. We can keep in touch in case anything happens…’
His voice tailed off at the gravity of what he was saying. Monica looked suddenly very sad, as if the realisation of what was happening was slowly dawning on them both.
Benji broke the ice. ‘Don’t go, Daddy,’ he cried as it hit him too.
‘I have to, buddy. Be strong. You’ve got everything you need here, and I’m always on the end of this phone. You’re in charge now, buddy, and you have to look after Mommy for me.’ The responsibility seemed to perk him up a little.
Joe leaned into Monica momentarily as he swivelled to leave, as if kissing her goodbye was the most natural thing in the world, then he saved his embarrassment at the last second with a swerve. Bounding up the stairs two at a time, he couldn’t see that the lack of a kiss showed on Monica’s facial expressions. A combination of familiarity and the situation at hand left her wanting him again. And besides, she hadn’t seen that drive in him in years. He was in charge, he was making things happen, and she loved him once again for it.
Mother and son looked at each pensively as Joe disappeared behind the closing door.