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What seemed like hours later, my kidneys about ready to bust, we came to a main road headed for the Mississippi riverboat launch outside of Vicksburg. The time had been taken up with explaining to Dalton the events of the past few days, recapping our break-in to the Industry’s headquarters underneath Vegas, our failed rescue attempt where I’d been forced to leave my brother behind, Vice President Malevich’s escape with Will’s dad, Brian Callahan, and the resulting death of Josh Johnson. I realized how much we had all been through. Tyler stayed quiet throughout, and Garnet’s usual perkiness had turned to sallow-cheeked gloom. Dalton must have sensed the discomfort.
“We’ll have time to talk after you’ve all had a chance to rest up, get a bath, and fill your bellies full of southern hospitality.” A grin spread across his face as he glanced my way in the dim light. It made the sharp angle of his jaw significantly less threatening. I judged his age to be early thirties. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way, his cheeks and jaw shadowed with deep gold whiskers and his eyes a silvery-gray.
A smile tugged the corner of my mouth. “I can’t wait.” Lights in the distance caught my attention. Almost there. I squeezed my knees together and changed the subject, eager to stop thinking how badly I had to pee. “So, how did you and Sam meet?”
Accelerating on the patch of unbroken open road, Dalton paused before answering. “Sam was my CO in the Army Rangers.” A brief clouded look crossed his face and he added, “He saved my life more than once. I owe him a debt.”
“I’m sure your helping me get home will make you square with Sam.”
“I couldn’t repay him in a thousand lifetimes. He’s a good man, your uncle.” Pride sounded in Dalton’s voice—and sincere gratitude. Suddenly, the familiarity of his voice and mannerisms struck me.
“You’re Sam’s Network contact. I’ve heard you talking to him on the comp-unit back home. I didn’t recognize it before because of the voice distortion you guys use, but it’s clear to me now.”
“Sam told me you were smart. He also told me you were too nosy for your own good.”
My feelings might have been hurt if Dalton wasn’t obviously teasing me. My cheeks flushed with warmth and I was doubly glad when we pulled into the shipyard a moment later.
Garnet and I scurried off to the restroom, Maia at our heels. Whether to join us for relief, or as our guard, it was impossible to tell. Her face was a blank mask and her silence an eerie reminder of her mysterious role in Dalton’s life. Tyler waited on the dock while Dalton loaded the buggy onto a cargo barge heading up river. The freighter’s captain, a grizzled older man who seemed to be on a first-name basis with Dalton, leaned in with a conspiratorial chuckle and exchanged a bag of what was likely some form of agreed upon currency, just as we three girls rejoined them.
The older man, Captain Calhoun, according to Tyler, showed us to a bunk area with a small washroom where we could clean up and bed down for the night. He assured us we would reach Memphis by morning and then he invited us to his private quarters for dinner. The cargo, it turned out, was a shipload of food and produce heading up to Chicago, payment for which was a share of the goods for captain and crew.
“Don’t be dallying,” barked the captain. “My cook’ll want to be showin’ off his skills for the celebrities on board.” He laughed and left us at our door, continuing on with Dalton and Maia, who remained glued to Dalton’s side like a shadow. She glanced over her shoulder and our eyes met, her gaze wary. Either she didn’t like the attention I was drawing with captain and crew—who all homed in immediately on the otherworldly iridescence of my eyes—or she was wishing Dalton had found another way home. Her skin had turned a pasty green when the boat pulled away from the dock and out into the heavy currents of the burgeoning Mississippi.
Tyler, Garnet and I took turns washing up and changing into clean clothes. We hurried through the chore and made a dash for the captain’s quarters on the main deck of the massive barge. Dalton and Maia were already seated with the captain and dinner was laid out on plates in front of them. My mouth watered as the aroma of fried food reached my nose. Dalton signaled me to sit beside him, a move that garnered a glare from Maia.
“So, you’re Sam Carmichael’s kid?” Captain Calhoun wasted no time as he passed a plate of something he introduced as fried okra. I took it with thanks and nodded. No sense in correcting him on details. Like the fact that I was actually Sam’s niece. But Sam had been both mother and father to me and Zeph for the past ten years, and was the only parent Zeph knew. Sam was all we had. The captain took my acknowledgement as fact. He shifted his gaze to Tyler and Garnet. “And who are these ragamuffins?”
Garnet, about to make a snarky comment, caught my warning and closed her mouth, handing off a dish of sweet potato pie to Tyler and grabbing a buttermilk biscuit for herself.
“Friends of mine.” I said. “We’re just trying to make it back to the Northeast.”
He chewed open-mouthed, continuing his questioning. “Why in God’s name would you want to go there? I’ve heard the winters are nine months long with snows ten feet deep.” The man shuddered, his deeply tanned and sun-weathered skin an indication he’d probably spent most of his life south of the snow line. He took a swig off a tall mug of beer, the smell of hops strong in the air. “I guess everyone’s gotta be from somewhere,” he added, not waiting for my reply. “Goes to show, the Network’s got people all over.” He lifted his mug to Dalton. “Here’s to crushin’ those Industry bastards and taking back this country.”
As good as it was to know we were among friends of the Network, the man’s confidence sent a wave of insecurity over me. I wondered if everyone on board was as enthusiastically supportive of the rebellion.
A tall, skinny man in a grubby chef’s apron laid out another plate, this one full of assorted fruits, dates, cheeses and breads. He avoided eye contact and ducked back out the low door before I could effectively read his expression or his energy. Tyler rested on his elbows and yawned beside me, obviously too tired to focus in on anyone’s thoughts or moods but his own. He picked at a piece of barbequed chicken, his eyes deep-set pools of grief and fatigue.
Unable to heal his broken heart or ease his pain, I turned my attention to Dalton.
“Sam said we’d find transportation north once we reached Nashville. Is that still true?” I helped myself to a portion of sliced melon and a piece of corn bread, the mouthwatering taste reminding me of home.
“We’ll see when we get there, but last I heard, trains were still running.” Dalton stuffed another biscuit in his mouth and sat back, chewing with his eyes closed. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones who hadn’t eaten a decent meal in the past few days. “The airports were taken out in the last drone strike,” he said after finishing, his tone gritty. “We need to act soon or the Industry will definitely have the advantage.”
Captain Calhoun was skeptical when I explained the President’s situation to him, but not surprised to learn of Malevich’s involvement in keeping her prisoner to use as a scapegoat when the rebellion took hold. “I knew that rat bastard was no good. But to hide behind a woman and use her to escape taking responsibility for the disastrous state of the country is lower than low. He and that damn Assembly have a lot to answer for.”
Sucking down the last of his beer, Dalton chimed in with agreement. “When the Senate and House collapsed, they should have scrapped the lot of them and started over with free elections, but instead, the old coots left in charge decided to kick the Constitution to the curb and start their own little Parliament.”
I’d heard how the viral plagues had led to the breakdown of society and how those left in charge had managed to rise to the top, appoint officials they knew would cooperate, and take over the New Government before anyone could stop them. I was only a child then, but the idea of freedom rang true in my heart and I knew there had to be a way to bring control of government back to the people.
The two men talked politics and war strategy for another hour until even my eyes were drooping closed. Hunger satisfied, Garnet, Tyler and I made our way back to our cabin, a small room with several bunks stacked two high. We had the room to ourselves since the crew was up on deck for the night—their job to assure safe passage through the murky depths of the Mississippi and all its dangers. It was clear the crew members were Swampers, men who’d come up from the Southern Swamps to make money or trade supplies for work on the riverboat circuit—a tough bunch to be sure.
Maia remained with Dalton, his constant companion. I wondered if he ever tired of her puppy dog-like following, or if he’d simply gotten used to her attachment.
I settled onto a hard, flat pillow and pulled a scratchy wool blanket over me, too tired to care anymore about comfort or think about anyone else’s problems. As my eyelids fell, I had time for only one thought—how grateful I was to be alive, and how good it felt to rest my mind and my bones for even a little while.
∞∞∞
It was barely after dawn when my slumber was interrupted with the sound of an explosion. My feet hit the deck before I was fully alert. Garnet jumped, but Tyler remained dead to the world. I nudged him as a second explosion rocked the ship. I grabbed hold of the bunk, which was bolted to the floor.
Tyler jolted upright, his eyes wild. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know, but we’d better find Dalton.”
Garnet and Tyler quickly fell in behind me as I led the way to the main deck, my heart racing and my head filled with possible scenarios. But as we reached the open deck, the reality became obvious. Men ran in every direction, their shouts cut off by another explosion. Two drones passed over, making for another run. Just then, Dalton appeared, his expression hard.
“Get to the vehicle—now!” he yelled as he tossed me a shotgun and raced for the front of the ship where the last blast had taken out a huge chunk of the hull. The captain’s voice could be heard barking orders ahead, but I turned around and dashed in the other direction toward the parking bay. Whatever Dalton had planned, I hoped it included staying alive and in one piece. Garnet, Tyler and I pushed our way through the tide of men. Part of me wanted to turn back and join whatever fight the men were about to face, but my need to keep my friends out of harm’s way and reach home to warn Sam overrode any foolish urge to be heroic.
We found the buggy where Dalton had parked it on the stern of the ship, waiting in a line of other vehicles, positioned to drive onto the dock once we had reached our destination.
“We’re blocked in!” cried Garnet, her voice piercing through the sounds of shouts and screams from behind us.
I hopped into the driver’s seat and started the electric engine, hoping she still had enough battery power from the day before. The motor sprang to life and I exhaled with relief. But before I could celebrate and formulate a plan as to how we were going to get off the ship as it plowed through the muddy Mississippi, a third and fourth explosion shook us and Garnet screamed.
Tyler ignored her and pointed behind us. “Look! Here comes Maia.”
Maia ran toward us at top speed, the cook from the night before at her heels. The man pointed a pistol at Maia’s back and my heart froze.
Tyler grabbed the shotgun from my hands, aimed out the back and yelled. “Maia! Get down!”
The girl’s eyes went wide when she saw the barrel of the gun pointed her way. She hit the deck and rolled. Tyler pulled the trigger. The blast of the 12-gauge rang in my ears and the cook’s chest blossomed red as he rose into the air and dropped onto his back. Maia scrambled to her feet, looked back at the blood and flesh that splattered the deck around the still body, and climbed into the front seat beside me, giving Tyler a grateful, tight-lipped smile.
“Where’s Dalton?” I asked, even knowing the girl couldn’t respond.
Tyler answered for her. “He went to try to save the captain.” Maia stared at Tyler, wide-eyed as she realized he was reading her thoughts, and then she nodded. They exchanged another brief look and Tyler went on, his own eyes growing round as he relayed Dalton’s message. “He wants us to get off the ship and keep traveling up river. We’re almost to Memphis. She says he’ll meet us there.”
“But...” The drones soared overhead once more, cutting off my questions. With laser-like precision, another explosion took out the cargo bay nearby. Debris scattered in all directions and turned the deck into a rising wall of flames.
“Get us off this ship!” cried Garnet. She covered her ears and curled into a corner of the backseat.
I gritted my teeth. The idea of leaving Dalton behind twisted my insides into a knot but it couldn’t be helped. I slammed the vehicle into gear, pushing the car in front of us into the one ahead of it. The tires spun and smoke rose up around us, the smell of burnt rubber and wood acrid in my nostrils. I backed up and rammed again, pushing the last vehicle over the edge of the deck until it disappeared. My pulse pounded in my ears when I checked the rearview one more time. The fire grew as it crept closer and engulfed the ship behind us.
With one last burst of courage, I backed up to get a running start. The heat from the flames licked the rear bumper as I jammed the shifter into drive and headed for the edge. The vehicle hit air and sailed out over the water just as a massive explosion erupted behind us, drowning out Garnet’s screams and sending us careening into the roiling, murky river below.
