The rescue, p.1
The Rescue, page 1
A Great State: The Rescue
Book Three
by
Shelby Gallagher
Post-Apocalyptic Fiction & Survival Nonfiction
www.PrepperPress.com
This is a work of fiction. Characters and events are products of the author’s imagination, and no relationship to any living person is implied. The locations, facilities, and geographical references are set in a fictional environment.
A Great State: The Rescue
The third book in the A Great State trilogy.
ISBN 978-1-939473-92-9
Written by Shelby Gallagher
Copyright © 2019 by Shelby Gallagher
All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America.
Prepper Press is a division of Kennebec Publishing, LLC
Glen,
Thank you for sparking off this trilogy with a hammer.
I love you, Shelby.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter 59 - Pink Slips
Chapter 60 - Memory Lane
Chapter 61 - Kandi’s Place
Chapter 62 - Know the Enemy, Know Yourself
Chapter 63 - Hand Slapping
Chapter 64 - Kenney Reservoir
Chapter 65 - City Hall
Chapter 66 - Taking Flight
Chapter 67 - It Gets Worse
Chapter 68 - Newsflash
Chapter 69 - Asset Delivered
Chapter 70 - Treasury Department
Chapter 71 - Shipping and Handling Charges
Chapter 72 - The Pope and Kid Rock
Chapter 73 - Adoption Proceedings
Chapter 74 - Walks on Beaches
Chapter 75 - Carry a Stick
Chapter 76 - Ned’s Whiskers
Chapter 77 - Meet the Family
Chapter 78 - Behind Schedule
Chapter 79 - First Words
Chapter 80 - Mobilizing
Chapter 81 - Relay
Chapter 82 - The Accused
Chapter 83 - Stinky Feet
Chapter 84 - Unexpected Regrets
Chapter 85 - Titles
Chapter 59
Pink Slips
Steve opened his eyes to the dome light inside his car. He was reclined in the driver’s seat and Addison was asleep on his chest. Her head rested just below his chin, and he inhaled her sweet, baby scent. The early morning sun poured into the car and he was surrounded by silence.
He had struggled to make it through his first night in the SUV, after spending many restless hours trying to get comfortable and relaxed enough to sleep. He’d had minimal success in the sleep department, particularly due to the dead silence of the junkyard, which was a quiet Steve was unaccustomed to. After two months of living with the constant hum of city noise and traffic, the silence was deafening.
Yet in the silence, Steve was certain he heard something. He struggled against the urge to sit upright, which would alert anyone outside of the vehicle to his presence. Steve slipped his right hand under his thigh and felt the hard handle of the knife. He gripped the knife, pulling it from beneath him, and laid it between his legs, still in its sheath.
Slowly, he rolled to his right and gently laid Addison in the front passenger seat. She cuddled into the curve of the seat as if it were a human body. Steve took the knife and continued to roll to his right until he was on his stomach. He slowly lifted his head up until he could peer out the windows and see what was out there making noise.
At the rear of the SUV stood the same man from several nights ago, with the same distinctive beard and jean jacket. He wore a khaki ball cap and aviator glasses.
“Dude, I know you have the knife. I gave it to you, remember? Don’t even think of it. Open the back,” the man demanded as he tapped on the window.
“Who the fuck are you?” Steve hissed.
“Your chauffeur. Pop the back. Now,” the man demanded again.
He’s early. I didn’t expect him now, Steve thought, his mind racing. He hadn’t been expecting his escort north for a few more days. Yet this was the same guy who had delivered the knife he asked for.
“Dude. Your dad is Bentley. Your baby is Addison. We’re going to Pierce Point soon. Open the fucking door, or I’m out of here.”
Steve felt his shoulders relax. No one except Amanda and Jody knew that information.
“Why are you here before the agreed time?” Steve asked as he cracked the side window.
“Need to prep you and the vehicle. Need to store gear,” the man answered back. “Last time. Open the door.”
Thump. The SUV’s hatch slowly rose, and the man watched it lift.
“Dude, you’re a sitting duck sleeping in plain view like this. You’re lucky no one saw you last night,” the man said as the door reached its peak.
Steve had no answer. He had figured he was hidden just by being in the junkyard.
“Call me Shawn. This car needs work. A lot of work,” Shawn said as he began pulling the few items in the back of the SUV out onto the ground.
Steve watched intently. He didn’t know what to do except watch.
Shawn cleared out almost everything until the entire back hatch was empty. Then he threw in a large duffel bag and tossed a tarp over everything. He walked away for a few moments and returned with full garbage bags. They were dusty and dirty.
“Come here,” Shawn ordered, pointing his gloved index finger at Steve and motioning it toward him over his shoulder.
Like an obedient dog, Steve quickly exited the driver’s door. As he approached the rear of the vehicle, Shawn pointed to the tarp.
“Crawl under,” Shawn commanded.
Steve didn’t move.
“Wise to be suspicious, though I’m your ride. Try this. Your entire inheritance is funding this little effort to get you and that baby to Pierce Point. My job is to get you there, though I get paid regardless of whether that happens,” Shawn said in a monotone, staccato tone. “I am not going to kill you. But… you make me repeat myself one more time, and I might punch you before I head to my next job.” Shawn’s expression was stoic as he pointed to the space next to the duffel bag and under the tarp.
Steve grabbed the edge of the entrance and slowly slid into the SUV, tucking himself under the tarp. He watched Shawn work quickly to place paper garbage all around him.
“Where is your stuff?” Shawn asked.
Steve pointed to the front passenger seat, and Shawn went to the front of the car. Steve felt himself grow apprehensive, knowing that Addison was in the passenger seat. Shawn hesitated as he looked in the passenger window and noticed Addison. He quietly opened the door. Shawn’s head disappeared into the foot space to pull out Steve’s bag and Addison’s supplies. Shawn closed the passenger door, not making a sound.
How does he do that? Steve wondered, impressed by Shawn’s stealthy movements.
Shawn walked around the car and opened the door behind the driver’s side. He levered the driver’s seat upright and tucked the bags behind the seat under the tarp and trash. By the time Shawn was done, the car’s interior was full of trash.
“You crawl into that void at night when you sleep. Take the baby with you. Look around—this now looks like a car that belongs in a junkyard, not a car parked in a junkyard.” Shawn pointed as he spoke.
He bent over into a large, black duffle bag, and pulled out sheets of metal and a vest. From Shawn’s exertion, Steve quickly surmised that the equipment was heavy.
“Grab that car seat and come here,” Shawn said, motioning to the back of the car.
Steve immediately complied.
Shawn moved confidently and quickly. “Spread out your arms,” Shawn commanded, and slid a heavy vest onto Steve.
Steve immediately felt the pull of the twenty pounds of level IV body plates. Steve stood still as Shawn strapped the Velcro enclosures for the armor.
Shawn looked up at Steve, and half punched him in the chest. “Feel good?”
Steve coughed. “Uh… yes. Protected.”
Shawn didn’t wait for Steve to answer. He grabbed the car seat and started peeling off the cloth cover. Carefully, he fitted various-sized plates he had over the back and sides of the bucket of the carrier, until he found sizes that fit. Next, he took straps and tightened the plates down to the seat using holes already in the seat’s frame. Before putting the cloth cover back on the seat, Shawn laid down a piece of cloth that had “velocity backer” written on a label.
“What is that for?” Steve asked.
“If that plate gets hit,” Shawn said, pointing to the metal plate, “it might splinter and cause spalling… spalling is like shrapnel. That is a layer to protect from spalling.”
Steve’s felt his eyes grow large. “Well, I would imagine that the vests already have that inside,” Steve stated, trying to sound knowledgeable.
“No,” Shawn said, unflinching.
Steve’s eyes grew bigger. “Oh.”
“Grow a pair, dude,” Shawn said. “Of course it does. Everyone on this detail has the same armor.”
“Everyone?” Steve asked.
“Yes, everyone,” Shawn said. He pulled the cloth cover over the car seat.
“Got a baby carrier? You know, the thing you strap her into to hold her to your body? N
“Oh! Like this?” Steve took a few steps to the car, reached under the back seat and pulled out a soft baby carrier. It looked like an octopus with all the straps dangling from it as he held it up.
“Put that on, with your armor,” Shawn commanded.
Steve extended all the straps, slid the carrier on and held out his arms.
Shawn pulled a knife out of nowhere and walked toward Steve. Steve froze. Being around Shawn was like being around a tame lion. At any moment, all the training in the world could go out the window, and in one swipe, he could strike to kill.
Shawn’s gaze fixated on the back of the baby carrier. He slid his knife along the top of the back, opening the layers of fabric. Bending over, he picked up one of the many pieces of metal and slowly slid it into the baby carrier. It was snug—too snug. Bending back down, he found another piece, along with a piece that said “velocity backer” on it. He slid both pieces into the carrier.
Shawn shook his head once. “Gonna have to do,” he muttered. “This carrier is to be used as little as possible. Your best protection is the vehicle. This is shit for protection right here, but it’s better than nothing. If you flee the vehicle, it’s because everything has gone south and the vehicle no longer offers protection. This is a last resort. You might hand it off to the baby’s mother when you get there. That detail might use it.”
Steve was taken aback to hear Julie referred to as Addison’s mother.
“We leave tomorrow. Be ready at zero-six-hundred. Sleep with the armor on. Have the baby sleep in that seat,” Shawn directed.
He raised his hand, giving a slight wave, then walked away, quickly disappearing between vehicles.
***
At six o’clock the following morning, Steve sat in the driver’s seat, wide awake. Addison was asleep in the car seat. She had been fussy most of the night. Steve held two backpacks for the trip. One contained the few personal items he had left in the world, including the parental release forms he’d promised his dad he would present at Pierce Point. The second pack carried Addison’s supplies: diapers, formula, and a few changes of clothes. Steve had strapped the baby carrier around Addison’s bag, attempting to streamline the number of items that needed to be carried.
The morning was chilly and damp, even with the sun well above the horizon.
Shawn, as usual, appeared out of nowhere near the passenger side of the vehicle. “Grab your bags,” he commanded as he opened the door behind the front passenger seat and gingerly slid Addison out of the vehicle, still in her car seat.
“Follow me,” Shawn ordered as he started walking away.
“Wait! The car? Where are you going?” Steve called out.
“Armored vehicle. Yours is staying here,” Shawn said over his shoulder.
“That wasn’t the agreement,” Steve called, trying not to yell, and realizing he sounded like a complaining child.
“We are taking an armored vehicle. Any other questions?” Shawn stopped and looked directly at Steve.
Steve had several questions, but felt stupid asking any of them. What would happen to his car? That was part of the agreement, wasn’t it? The car was valuable, so if no one wanted it, could he come back and get it? Mitch? What would Mitch think if the car was here after he said he wouldn’t be?
As Steve’s mind raced, he followed Shawn about fifty feet to an older, beat up, Toyota 4runner.
“But my SU—” Steve started to say.
“Shut up,” Shawn interrupted, glaring. “Your hipster SUV isn’t armored. I’m starting to repeat myself again. Get in.”
Shawn opened the backdoor and slid Addison onto the seat. He pointed to the space on the opposite side of her, saying nothing, but glaring at Steve.
***
At zero seven hundred, Shawn and Steve were parked near the Airport Way overpass, pointed north. It was the last exit before crossing the I-205 bridge. In regular times, it was simply an overpass, but that was no longer the case. The I-205 had double chain-link fencing crossing it, with temporary buildings serving as booths for checkpoint agents. A military tank sat next to one of the buildings. Steve could not believe his eyes. He had no idea this checkpoint even existed, let alone in such an armed state.
Shawn looked in the rearview mirror and noticed Steve’s wide eyes as he clutched Addison tightly.
“Shut up when I speak to anyone. If anyone speaks to you, be quiet. I’ll answer for you. Clear?” Shawn commanded, which was met with a nod. Shawn settled into his seat and pulled a small radio and antenna out of a pocket in his chest. He turned up the volume.
“Eight-zero-eight to three-four, in position. Visual on you,” Shawn said.
“Three-four. Copy,” the man on the radio replied.
Shawn watched the guards intensely as they mingled around. They spoke to each other casually, pointed to the lined-up cars, and held large rifles to their chests.
Shawn was not alarmed by the rifles, but Steve’s gawking told another story. Shawn watched every move the guards made—how they handled their firearms, how they communicated, who they pointed to, and their general routine.
Cars were motioned to approach the booth one at a time. Sometimes they were searched. Other times, they were completely emptied. Many car occupants didn’t hide their annoyance or anger. Some were unperturbed and simply waited as their belongings were strewn on the pavement. One man got angry and started yelling and strutting around, waving his arms in the air. It didn’t take long before he was tackled, handcuffed, and pinned to the ground as his car was searched. Thoroughly.
“We here to watch, or go through the checkpoint?” Steve asked from the backseat. “Seems like this is taking longer than necessary.”
Shawn didn’t answer.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The baby immediately started to cry at the sudden sound, and even Shawn jumped slightly. He pressed the button to roll down the driver side window.
“Dude, thanks for scaring the kid.” Shawn stared hard at the twenty-something-year old male standing at the door. Addison was now screaming, and Steve murmured quietly as he tried to calm the infant.
The guard scanned Steve and Addison, then looked at Shawn. Shawn glared. The guard took a slight step back.
“Uh… you’re up,” the young man said sheepishly as he pointed for the car to head to the booth.
Shawn’s glare continued as he rolled the window up and slowly drove to the booth.
