Dux Bellorum (Future History of America Book 3) (38 page)

Casting another quick glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was following him, he slung his rifle and quickly fit his boots and hands into the depressions.
 
It should have been a simple matter to haul himself up, but his pack made him top-heavy and by the time he reached the porch roof, he was grunting with exertion.

After he caught his breath, he shouldered his rifle and moved forward, stepping carefully on the gravel-lined roof.
 
Each footstep sounded terribly loud—he hoped no one was out there to hear him as he approached the open window.

He passed the bank of windows that had been sealed shut.
 
He looked inside the building, but the interior was too dark to see anything.

Erik reached the open window and pried it open a little wider.
 
It squealed in protest at being mistreated.
 
He grimaced, then quickly slipped in through the window and dropped to a crouch inside the darkened library.
 

The room was silent as a tomb though surprisingly well lit.
 
The windows on the upper floors let in a decent amount of what little light remained outside.
 

The air temperature was dropping rapidly outside with the setting of the sun, but inside it was at least five degrees warmer.
 

Erik sat still, listening.
 
He heard absolutely nothing.
 
The routine sounds of a building this size, with its air conditioning system, murmurs of students pouring over books, normally a center of electronics and lights…all of it was gone.
 
It was an altogether unsettling, unnatural silence.
 
He kept the rifle ready and thumbed off the safety.
 

He approached the middle of the building by walking down the length of the upper floor, carefully stopping along the way to check his progress and listen for footsteps.
 
At the south end of the building, he leaned over the railing and took a quick glance below.
 

He imagined a happier time months ago when power was still available—the place would've been gloriously lit from the inside.
 
There were a number of potted trees on the ground floor, all of which were shriveled up, stripped bare of their leaves as the water system and died without power.
 
Their naked, dead trunks stood mute sentry over the abandoned building.
 

He quickly moved through the upper floor of the building, peering down row after row of neatly ordered books, stacked floor-to-ceiling along their shelves.
 
He failed to find a single person—it was like the building had been locked up and abandoned after the collapse.

Unable to tell if he was more nervous now after knowing the upper floor was completely deserted, Erik found an emergency stairwell and opened the door, the sound echoing through the empty building.
 
He winced, sure if anyone was inside they’d know he was there now.
 

After counting to 30 and not hearing anything, Erik slipped into the darkened stairwell and shut the door behind him.
 
Surrounded by complete darkness, Erik freed a small LED flashlight clipped to his vest.
 
The stairwell, a plain metal structure wrapping the concrete walls, led down to the second landing, and to the ground floor below.
 

He found no tracks, no trash, no debris—nothing.
 
His boots rang hollow on the metal steps until he reached the second floor landing.
 
He took a deep breath, clicked off the light, and wrapped himself in utter darkness before opening the door and quickly emerging on the second floor.
 
Careful to not let the door slam shut behind him, he brought his rifle up to his shoulder and began the search process anew.
 

He stopped about midway the length of the second floor in a large section of books that contained a few comfortable reading chairs.
 
He checked his watch.
 

Twenty minutes.
 
They're going to start worrying soon.
 
He peered out the nearest window.
 
It's almost full dark.
 
I’ve got to hurry this up and get back.
 
This place looks like it'll be good shelter for the night.

Erik trotted to the south end of the second floor and looped around to the other side of the building finding more of the same.
 
The place looked like it'd been meticulously cared for.
 
He figured somebody would've broken in by now to at least used the books for kindling or something…maybe even toilet paper.
 
The place protected a vast wealth of knowledge.
 
There had to be plenty of books in here on self-sufficiency and how to construct survival tools or at least build things that might make life a little easier in a world without electricity.

Why the hell is there no one here?

Erik opened the door to the ground floor and froze.
 
Backpacks and books lay scattered along the carpet.
 
Someone
had
been here.
 
A half-empty water bottle stood next to a pack full of books on hiking.
 
Erik dropped to a knee and touched the water bottle.
 
It was slightly cold.
 
His hands went back to his rifle, and he spun in a circle, looking for a target.
 

Cold water.
 
Someone's here.
 

As he hastily searched through the rest of the ground floor, he found more backpacks—some full of supplies, some full of batteries, and some full of packaged food.
 
Someone—or maybe a
group
of people—had been scavenging vending machines and gathering supplies.
 
Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades as he cautiously crept to the west side of the library.
 

He expected a mob of people to rise up and rush him to rush him around each corner.
 
As he reached the west side of the library, he found more evidence that people had at least been through the library if not stayed: a sleeping bag neatly rolled up in the corner by an emergency exit.

What the hell is going on in this place?

He didn’t see anyone, so he walked past a section of independent study rooms, peering in through the windows to find each one deserted.
 
More than a few of them held book bags, backpacks, purses, and piles of supplies.
 
He didn't take the time to figure out what was in each room, but he could tell the library had been transformed into a storehouse.
 

Whatever was going on, it looked safe enough to bring Brin, Ted and his family to spend the night here.
 
He reached the southwest corner of the building and peered out the closest window.
 
He could just barely make out the roof of their van on the other side of the low brick wall surrounding the library.
 
It was practically full dark outside.
 

Erik took one more glance around to make sure no one was watching before unlocking the casement window.
 
He opened it, thankful this one didn't squeal as loud as the one on the third floor where he’d entered.
 

Once outside, he disengaged the swing arm on the window and closed it.
 
If need be, assuming someone didn't lock it from the inside, they'd be able to open the window again and get back in at a moment’s notice.

Erik, looking both ways again and finding the coast still clear, dashed across the weed-infested patch of ground to the brick wall and climbed before over.
 
His heart raced when he reached the van and found it empty.
 
The hatch was up, both side doors were open, and all the supplies were gone.
 
He spun around in a circle looking for someone, anyone.
 

"Ted!" he hissed into the darkness.
 
"Brin?"

His radio broke squelch.
 
"
We're in the visitor’s center behind you.
 
I wanted a backup plan,"
Ted's voice announced.

Erik turned and trotted across the street to where Ted
 
was motioning to him from a window behind a large juniper shrubbery.
 
"Hurry up," Ted whispered.
 
"Brin spotted someone walking down the street to the south with a flashlight."

Erik pushed aside the bush and climbed in through the open window.
 
"What about the van?"

"Nothing we can do about that," said Ted.
 
"I've got this window—get up to the second floor and cover the street."

"Got it," Erik started to move to the stairwell, lit by a glow stick laying on the floor.
 

"You find anything good?"

Erik paused at the stairs.
 
"Took me a while to break in, but somebody's been using it like a warehouse or something…I found lots of backpacks full of supplies.
 
There's a lot of food in there."

"That makes my mouth water just hearing it," said Brin from the top of the stairs.

Erik turned to face her dark silhouette.
 
"I don't know, there could be an awful lot of people using that thing."

"Where are they, then?" asked Brin.
 
"Seems strange they'd leave all that stuff lying around."

"I know," said Erik as he slipped past.
 
"It doesn't make any sense."

"Contact," hissed Ted.
 
"More lights to the south.
 
Get upstairs and cover the street!
 
Let's hope they just keep going."

Chapter 41

Sic Semper Tyrannis

D
ANIEL
CRIED
OUT
IN
pain. He heard voices beyond the crackling of the fire. Heat made it almost unbearable inside the vehicle.

He tried to yell and found his throat too dry. It was hard to breathe. Between the smoke and the fumes, it felt like he had a spear shoved through his chest.

Broken ribs. Punctured lung?

"Over here!" a voice called out.

Thank God, they found me.

He raised a hand and slapped the inside of the door closest to him. Over the crackle of the fire trying to consume his vehicle, he heard someone struggling to open it.

"It's jammed! I'm going through the front!"

"I can get him from the side," called out a new voice—a woman.

I don't remember seeing any women on my Secret Service detail today…

The pressure on his twisted legs eased when the door behind him opened. Gentle but strong hands gripped his throbbing ankles. He howled in pain.

"Careful! Looks like his ankle’s are broken. Hang in there Mr. President, we're going to get you out of here…"

Panting and bleeding, they dragged him from the burning vehicle. Supported by two Secret Service agents and a woman wearing an olive-drab outfit, they then transferred him to an idling Suburban.

"Put him in the back seat," one of the agents grunted.

"Can't…breathe…" Daniel gasped.

"Quick, open the hatch, we can lay him down in the back," suggested the woman.

Gunfire echoed unseen in the distance.
 
"Contact!
 
We need to move, people," warned another voice.

"We won't be able to move very fast with him just laying there–" warned one of the blurry agents at the edge of Daniel's vision.

"Doesn't matter how fast we go, we just have to get out of here!" argued the woman.

Reluctantly, the agents agreed and Daniel felt himself lifted and gently placed in the back of the big black SUV.

Instantly, his breathing improved.
Definitely something screwed up with my lungs.
He turned his head and blinked through the pain, trying to focus on his saviors.

"Ready!" called out the woman.

"Roger that, let's go!"

The woman settled behind him, holding him gently as the rear hatch slammed shut.

The other agents piled in and Daniel felt his body lurch as the vehicle raced forward on screaming tires.

"Hey! Take it easy up there!" the woman called,
 
sheltering him from the abrupt bumps and shifts in direction as the vehicle rumbled down the street.

"If we don't get out of here before the rebels and the army converge on us, we're all dead," replied the driver.
 
"Ma'am."

Daniel tried to pay attention to the driver and his passengers as they chatted back and forth on the radio, trying to locate the other units. None of it made much sense, but from what he gathered, his entire motorcade had either been wiped out or trapped by protesters and rebels.

Daniel's heart started to slow. It seemed he was finally out of the danger zone. Surrounded by loyal agents and…his eyes came to focus on the dirt and blood-smudged face that hovered over him.
 

She offered him a gentle smile.
 
She had kind eyes behind short brown hair that threatened to hang down into her face. She tucked a stray bit behind one ear and rested a hand gently on the side of his neck and face.
 

"There, there. Rest easy, sir. It'll all be over soon."

Daniel smiled at her touch. "Who…?" he breathed.

The smile on her face faded as she glanced over her shoulder at the agents in the front of the vehicle. "How much longer?"
 

One of the agents checked his radio, and then shouted and then answered, "Not much longer—looks like we were able to skirt around the edge of the rebel position. We should be able to get him to medical staff in the next couple minutes. How's he doing?"

The woman nodded and turned back to Daniel. "He's still with us."