Sanctuary: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series) (12 page)

“Guys, enough bullshit, we have a job to do here. Let’s focus,” Gordon said firmly. “We have five of us, we’re all well armed, well trained, and we can do some serious damage if we plan this right.”

“It’s not going to be a cakewalk, but Van Zandt is right, we can put a hurting on them,” Rubio said.

Gordon led the conversation and presented his ideas. His plan called for a night raid. He, Lexi, and Rubio would enter the valley from the south. Their assumption was that Rahab was located within the main building. To the south, a hill sloped very close to the front entrance. From there they would enter directly into the front. McCamey and Jones would position the Humvee on the hill to the south but in a hide. Jones was healthy enough to shoot the M40 bolt action rifle and he’d take out anyone who came in and out of the buildings. If any vehicles started to exit or move into support, McCamey would light them up with the machine gun.

As they discussed scenarios the radio in the Humvee came to life.

“Romeo Sierra One Three, this is Papa, come in, over.”

They all looked at each other, surprised that the Marines’ radio was working this far out.

“I guess we are close enough to a repeater,” Rubio commented and stood up.

“You guys set up repeaters?” Gordon asked.

“Yeah, part of our overall mission on these long-range patrols is to reestablish communication and the only way to do that is with repeaters. Apparently we’re picking up a signal.”

Jones leaned over and keyed the handset. “Papa, this is Romeo Sierra One Three, we read you, Lima Charlie.”

“Roger that, Romeo Sierra One Three. Be advised. Terminate current mission and link up with Romeo Sierra Actual, over.”

Jones looked confused and handed the radio handset to Rubio.

“Romeo Sierra One Three, did you copy, over?” the voice crackled.

“Roger that, we copy. Terminate mission and link up with Romeo Sierra Actual,” Rubio answered. He dropped the handset and looked at Gordon.

“Who’s Papa?” Gordon asked.

“That’s the command element back in Coos Bay. Actual is Gunny back in Klamath Falls,” Jones explained.

“So that’s it? You guys are bailing on us?” Gordon asked, concerned.

“Corporal, we could head back tomorrow morning. Let’s at least try to get this guy. We’ve made it all the way here,” Jones said.

Rubio acknowledged Jones with a slight nod. He then looked at both Lexi and Gordon.

“Yeah, we’re in. Let’s see this through.”

“Now that we have that settled, what do we do with the girl?” Lexi asked.

“We can’t just let her go, she might head back and warn Rahab,” Rubio stated flatly.

“You know there’s a good chance they’re on a heightened alert now anyway. They must be concerned about their missing people,” Gordon added.

“Yeah, I’m sure they’re watching out, but I just don’t know if he suspects he’s about to get attacked,” Lexi said.

“We don’t have anything to worry about if we kill her,” Jones suggested boldly.

“Stop! We’re not going to murder her!” Gordon said sharply.

“Wait a minute, Van Zandt, you’re not in charge here!” Rubio countered Gordon.

The woman was tied up to a tree, and she began to wiggle to get free after she heard the possibility of her murder.

“Here’s the grand compromise. Let’s keep her tied up. If we survive we’ll come back and untie her, if we don’t . . . well, for her sake, let’s hope we can come back,” Gordon recommended. After a few moments they all finally agreed with Gordon.

“Then it’s settled,” Gordon said, walking over to the woman.

As he knelt down next to her, her eyes opened wide with fear. Her mouth was gagged and her arms were tied behind her.

“You hear that? You lucked out. We’ll come back for you. I don’t know if you deserve it, but that’s how it is,” Gordon stated, then walked back to get ready for their raid.

Eagle, Idaho

The perimeter of Eagle’s Nest was not protected with any type of fencing. Nelson knew this was a problem, but since they arrived in the heart of winter, finding a spot to settle down was more important. Now the issue of perimeter security took center stage after the attack and the encounter with Truman and his men. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the materials to construct anything that would be sufficiently hardy, so the only reasonable idea was to add more people to the watches. The additional posts put a strain on the limited manpower they had. It was a domino effect; problems came in one after another. The constant rotating guard schedule limited the number of people who could go out for patrols outside the gate.

Nelson and Scott had several long conversations about Truman and his men. They didn’t know whether to expect a strike from them, and if so, what direction they would be coming from. Truman had given a vague indication of where they were located, but they hadn’t gone out to investigate where they came from for fear of leaving the community unmanned. They had limited weapons and ammunition, but not enough men to satisfactorily repel an attack if coordinated. Nelson was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the logistics of keeping the community safe.

“Here,” Scott said, handing him a cold water.

“I’ve been thinking that we shouldn’t just sit here.”

“You think we should leave?” Scott asked, concerned.

“No, not leave. We should look at this issue differently. We can’t adequately fence the perimeter. I mean, look out there,” Nelson commented, pointing to the rolling hills and groves of trees that dotted the landscape. “The material and manpower we would need to protect us from someone just walking in here is impossible. It’s just impossible.”

“So what are you proposing? We don’t know for sure if Truman will be back.”

Nelson looked at Scott and shot back, “He’s coming back. I could see it in his eyes. He knows his brother is dead and that we killed him. He’ll be back and he’ll come back on his own terms.”

“I don’t know what you’re suggesting,” Scott said.

“I say we set our own terms. We don’t sit here and wait for him to come back. We find him and take him out.”

“Wait a minute—you’re suggesting we attack him? That’s crazy! I’m not a soldier!”

“I’m not either, but just sitting here waiting for what I know is coming is foolish.”

“Things could go horribly wrong. I don’t know about this.”

“Scott, I understand your reservations about this. But we’ve spent a lot of time out there surviving. Hell, we almost didn’t make it out of the last community we lived in,” Nelson said, his voice growing louder and more animated. He didn’t want Scott to feel he was wrong, but wanted him to see for himself that offense is sometimes the best defense. “Listen, I totally understand you feeling uncomfortable about this, but we must, at minimum, see where these guys come from. Let’s see who we might be up against. Then we can sit down and have another conversation about this.”

Scott didn’t answer right away; he was looking off toward the snow-covered hills. After a moment, he sighed. “That’s fair. Let’s go take a look, then we can discuss it further.”

Nelson thought that now would be a good time to have Gordon around. After all, they weren’t soldiers. Regardless of this fact, the responsibility fell on him. Tomorrow he’d set out to see exactly what they were up against.

Sacramento, California

Pablo examined the bottle of wine, holding it at an angle.

“I hear the Alexander Valley is superior to the Napa varietal,” he commented, then filled two long-stemmed glasses full of the cabernet.

“I don’t know anything about wine,” Isabelle said, taking the glass by the stem. Her hand shook slightly. She was nervous and didn’t want to make one wrong move. She knew by his invitation that he was attracted to her. She was repulsed by the idea of having an overtly romantic dinner with him, but what other option did she have? If she refused his wishes, what happened then? Would he kill her and her father? At the moment, this was just a dinner. If he tried to make it into something more physical, she didn’t know if she could stop her urge to lash out at him. But until that happened, she bit her lip and smiled.

“Oh, you should learn. Wine is truly God’s gift to mankind,” he said with a smile as he picked up his glass and swirled the wine. He admired how the wine changed colors from a dark burgundy to an earthy red when he held it up to the light. He set the glass down on the table and inspected the wine’s legs. “Impressive,” he said again. “You Americans have really come a long way in the wine-making process.”

“Why am I here?” she asked.

“I’ll put this bluntly: You intrigued me. I’ve seen a lot in my life. I’m not an old man but I’ve lived enough to fill several lives.”

“That’s it. I’m something for you to look at. I’m a novelty?”

“Yes and no. You intrigued me because of the way you expressed yourself. You’re a smart and beautiful woman. I won’t lie to you; I’m attracted to you, but beyond the conventional sense of attraction. I felt a connection with you yesterday when you talked to me. There’s a common saying I remember from university: You ‘got’ me.”

She looked at the knife in front of her, then looked at Pablo. A strong desire came to take the knife and stab him. Only the knowledge that her father was being treated by his men caused her to control that urge.

“What are your plans for us?”

“Let’s talk about something else. Do you have any brothers and sisters?” he asked as he relaxed into a tall fabric dining chair.

She didn’t want to be here, especially answering questions from a madman, but she couldn’t see any other option at the moment.

“No brothers or sisters. You?”

“I’m like you, the only child. I have found that being the only child has some real positives and negatives. I wanted a sibling so badly when I was growing up. I didn’t have what you would say was a normal upbringing. I didn’t go to normal schools. I didn’t have many playmates. That was a big negative for me,” he said, smiling sadly.

“I felt the same way. Not having someone to play with was difficult. I did have some friends, though.”

“I found solace in my books and studies. Education was very, very important to my father,” he said, taking a large gulp of wine.

“Are your parents still alive?” she asked.

He shot her a look that frightened her, then said, “Yes, did someone say otherwise?”

“I’m sorry. No, no one has said anything to me. It was just a question. I ask because my mother died years ago. My dad is all the family I have.”

Pablo regretted snapping at her. “Please accept my apology. That was wrong of me. Both of my parents are alive. They’re both retired and living in Mexico.”

“That’s nice,” she responded. She was now apprehensive about the questions she asked.

Sensing her discomfort, he shifted the topic of conversation. “I hope you like lamb and fingerling potatoes,” he commented.

“Sure,” she said unenthusiastically.

He picked up on her hesitation when he mentioned their meal. “Sure? Wait a minute. Are you a vegetarian? I know that’s very popular here in California.”

“No, the menu sounds wonderful,” she said while looking around the grand dining room.

“I’m sure it must be odd to be sitting here. I didn’t want to just stay anywhere. The governor’s mansion seemed fitting.”

Isabelle had been there a few times for events, so it was even more jarring to be there under the current circumstances.

They shared conversation and even an awkward laugh a few times. If Pablo was one thing, it was charismatic. She tried to get him to talk about what his plans were for his army, but he always found a way to deflect and bring the conversation to a topic that was more palatable.

“Do you like port?” he asked as they had their plates taken away.

“I do, but don’t ask me about anything specific about them,” she answered with a slight smile.

“Let’s go into the parlor. I have a fire going and there we can sit and enjoy a glass of Quinta Do Vesuvio. I find it’s not too sweet for a vintage port,” he said. He enjoyed showcasing his knowledge of the finer things in life.

She smiled and followed him into the parlor. The room was dark, save for the light coming from the roaring fire. Two wingback chairs faced the fireplace. In between them, a small round table stood with two glasses and a bottle atop it.

She was starting to have a difficult time understanding this man who was so savage and primitive in his actions but so refined in his mannerisms and taste. He was dichotomy embodied.

“Here you go, beautiful,” he said as he handed her the small-stemmed glass. He sat down and raised his glass. “A toast to . . .”

The main double doors that led into the parlor burst open. General Pasqual stormed in like a man on a mission.

“Emperor, please forgive me for this rude interruption!”

Pablo stood up, a look of anger and disdain written on his face. “General, what the hell?”

“Please forgive me, but something urgent needs your attention,” General Pasqual said as he walked over and handed a piece of paper to Pablo.

Pablo snatched the paper from his hand but didn’t even glance at it.

Seeing an opportunity to call it a night, Isabelle stood up and said, “It’s getting late. This is probably a good time to go.”

Pablo turned his attention back to her. “No, do not go,” he pleaded, waving the paper in his hand dismissively.

“Emperor, please read it now,” General Pasqual said in a low, urgent tone.

“I am having an evening with the lady!” he screamed at Pasqual.

“But, sir.”

Pablo tossed the paper on his chair and walked toward Pasqual. “General, leave now. We can deal with this matter later.” Pablo grabbed Pasqual by the arm and roughly escorted him out of the room and closed the door. He locked it and turned around.

With Pablo distracted, Isabelle glanced at the paper. All she could read were the words
urgent
,
sunk
, and
loss
.

“Please pardon my army commander, he doesn’t have manners,” Pablo said and came back.

“It really is late and I should go, but can I offer two gifts to you before I go?”

“Please don’t go. It’s still early enough to have another glass. Or might I find something else for you to enjoy?”