America's Sunset: A Post Apocalyptic Fight for Survival (23 page)

“What happens when that light runs out?” Dawson asked.

“We’ll deal with that when we come to it. There really isn’t another good option at this point. If those bastards do catch up with us, or the light dies, then we’ll work with what we have. Right now we’re moving forward.”

Jake squeezed his way past the kids, resting a reassuring hand on both their shoulders as he moved to the front. He reflexively gave Veronica a smile, even though he knew she couldn’t see it.

“Bert just needs a break,” he said to Maggie as he moved past her. “He’s going to try and keep an eye out for anything that looks familiar from the rear. Does any of this make any sense to you? Do you see any rhyme or reason to this maze?”

“I’ve been looking, and don’t ask me why, but I have a feeling that we’re getting close to an exit. It felt for a while there like we were going deeper, but lately I think we’ve been moving up. The temperature feels warmer. Either that or I’m just overheating.”

“I hadn’t noticed that, good catch,” Jake said, nodding his head. “That’s encouraging. Keep an eye back there on Dawson if you can. He’s getting desperate.”

“Given the situation, that’s understandable.”

“Maybe, but it’s not helpful. We need to keep things as positive as possible, at least for the kids.”

* * *

Ahmed, Harish and their colleagues soldiered on, as determined as ever. While Ahmed kept pushing them on, Harish was the voice of reason. “Ahmed, we should move down this pathway. The air feels warmer. That probably means it’s leading to the surface.” He motioned down a tunnel that Ahmed was ignoring.

“I don’t want to go to the surface,” Ahmed replied. “Not until we have completed our mission. We need to find the infidel.”

“We will, Ahmed. Just stop and think for a moment. If you want to find them, we need to go where they go. They’re trying to get to the surface. If this passageway is getting warmer, then it leads to the surface as well. If I were them, I’d have gone this way.”

Ahmed smiled in the dark and patted his brother on the back as he headed down the warmer passage.

Chapter 42 ~ Lights Out

With Jake leading the way, the group came into the largest room they had been in so far. The floor dropped down a step, and Jake tripped upon entering. The air was fresher, and everyone took deep breaths. There were multiple doors leading into the room in addition to the one they had come through. Strangely, there was a piece of furniture—a table—in the center of the room. It was low set and square; seemingly too big to have come through any tunnel passageways they’d been in. Along the sides of the room, there were remnants of old beds made of straw, twigs and leaves. There was enough room for them all to stand and spread out around the table.

“Was this your secret hangout?” Veronica asked Bert.

Bert shone his dwindling light around the place. “I’ve never seen this room before. I don’t know how we managed to miss it, given the time we spent down here. Beds and a table?”

“Maybe they had tea parties and sleepovers,” Veronica suggested, feeling a little more relaxed.

“Well, I’m not so sure about that, kiddo,” Dawson answered. “They probably had other things on their mind, like—”

Maggie interrupted Dawson with a poke. “I think people probably had lots of parties down here, Veronica. Birthday parties, costume parties, and just plain old party parties.”

“Yeah,” Veronica said with a smile as she knelt at the table. “It’s just my height. Hey, Daddy, come and sit with me.”

Just as Dawson knelt across from Veronica, a mocking voice came from one of the other passageways. “Yes, Daddy, come and sit with me. Tell me all about your adventures when you traveled the world bringing death and destruction to innocent families.”

Ahmed entered the room form the tunnel behind Veronica. She started across the table towards Dawson, but Ahmed was too quick. Dawson lunged to come between Ahmed and Veronica, but Ahmed raised his weapon and leveled it against Veronica.

“No, no, Dawson Chambers.” Ahmed waved his gun menacingly. “Step back. All the way back.”

Dawson raised both hands, placating palms facing forward. Ahmed grabbed Veronica from behind as Harish and the rest of their companions entered from the other passageways. They banished rifles and pistols.

Dawson barely noticed the others in the room as he stared at Ahmed. “If you so much as harm one hair on …”

“You’ll what, Dawson Chambers? You’ll beat me? You’ll kill me? You’ll eradicate my entire family?” Silence hung in the room. No one spoke, as all eyes were trained on Ahmed and Veronica. “How exactly will you do that from where you stand?”

Veronica shook as she whispered, “Daddy …”

Jake surveyed the room, counting them vs. us. As big as the room had seemed before, it suddenly felt markedly smaller. There were eleven people now, and he couldn’t be sure there weren’t more waiting in the passageways. Jake tried unsuccessfully to count in his head how many he’d seen approaching the farm. The air in the room grew heated. If any of those weapons went off, a lot of them would be hit. A lot, including Ahmed’s soldiers. As if on cue, the soldiers noted the same thing, and marshaled Jake, Dawson, Maggie and Bert to one wall. Harish pushed the table off center, so it pinned the adults to the wall, putting space between them and the soldiers.

Ahmed kept his grip on Veronica, who couldn’t seem to stop shaking, while Harish kept Chase close. Chase didn’t struggle, so Harish loosened his grip. He was testing him, giving him a little more leash, seeing what he would do. Veronica wasn’t a threat, but teenage boys could be unpredictable.

Ahmed spoke to those lined up against the wall. “How does it feel to be the ones without power? How does it feel to know that the tables are turning and your reign is coming to an end? Are you sad? Scared? Maybe just a little angry?”

“We will hunt you down and make you pay for what you’ve done,” Jake replied.

“You won’t be hunting anyone down today, old man; from this point on you —” Ahmed started up again, but Jake interrupted.

“It won’t be me, you sick coward, but it will be someone just like me. Someone who won’t stand for your pathetic attacks against humanity. Someone who can’t stand to see a bully throwing sucker punches at innocent people.”

“Innocent people. That’s a joke. You and the rest of the infidels are parasites on this world. You are the bullies. You take whatever you want, regardless of who gets in your way. Women, children, and old men have all suffered in the name of the almighty United States of America. You build your empires with no regard for the rest of the planet. You waste what you have and live in sin under the eyes of Allah. You have no shame.” Ahmed spit on the ground.

“You think that killing people and blowing up buildings is the solution?” Maggie said. “Your actions are no better than the accusations you lay at our feet. America gives everyone the opportunity to make their choices. People can become whatever they want to be.”

“Ah yes, living the American Dream. A small child born into the gutters can rise to become the most powerful person in the world; president of the United States. Or, they could become a multi-millionaire and drive a different fancy car every day of the week. How wonderful is that?” Ahmed regally held out his arm waving to an adoring crowd.

“You’re an idiot if you think that,” Maggie sneered. “People don’t need fame and wealth to be happy. Plenty of good people in this country are living everyday normal lives perfectly contented. They work hard, take care of their children, and help others to do the same.” Jake put a hand on Maggie’s arm to calm her. She brushed it aside. “Fame and money are just excuses for asses like you to feel bitter about. People like you that measure your life by what you don’t have or what others do have are the real problem. You’ll always be miserable no matter what. Your parents will be sick to their stomachs when they learn what you’ve done. That’s assuming they aren’t as twisted as you are.”

Ahmed handed Veronica off to one of the soldiers and stepped to the edge of the table, aiming his pistol at Maggie. She glared indignation at Ahmed and his pistol.

“You know nothing about my parents. You know nothing about what they went through. You know nothing about what I went through.” Ahmed sprayed spittle as he spoke. “My parents had to leave their country because it was blowing up around them. My parents had to leave their country with a small child in tow because of the greed of a bunch of old white men in the United States of America. Those men believed it was more important to have cheap gasoline for their pollution-belching, oversized vehicles than it was for a young boy to grow up in his home with parents who loved him. Instead, that boy was doomed to a life of running. A life of running from a home he was denied. He lost his father, who was forced to remain behind. Maybe he wasn’t smart enough or rich enough to buy his way out. The little boy never really knew what happened to his father. He asked his mother, but she didn’t know.” Ahmed slowly lowered his pistol. “The biggest irony of it all was that the little boy and his pregnant mother found refuge in the land of those same infidels that took away his father. The boy didn’t understand. He just knew that his mother said she was doing the best she could to keep him safe, and that he couldn’t go back to his true home just yet. One day she promised he would be able to. But he never did, because one day, his mother broke her promise and didn’t come back. She died in an accident, they explained to him and his baby brother. They were brutally honest with they boy. They didn’t sugarcoat it, but they didn’t tell him the whole truth either. What he would find out years later was that his mother died at the hands of what you call skinheads … white supremacists. More old white men had once again brought pain and suffering to this young boy’s life.”

Bert chimed in now. “You couldn’t be more wrong there, young fella. Death and destruction can happen to the best of people, but that doesn’t mean you fix the problem by repeating the same mistakes. You’re just feeding the beast. You’re creating more problems than you’re solving. Sounds pretty ignorant to me. You gotta think these things through, not just hammer them to death.”

“Maybe so, old man, but you’d be surprised how many problems I’ve been able to solve with hammers. They smash rocks, break down doors, and beat in the skulls of old white men who speak down to their superiors.”

“Some old white men have lived long enough,” Bert continued, “to know they have only so many chances in life to speak their mind. The smart ones don’t shy away from it. Additionally,” Bert look to Veronica, who was petrified with fright, “they also know that children are meant to be protected, not threatened. It’s how we evolved as a species. Children are the next generation that moved us from monkeys to who we are today … even with our flaws. What you’re doing is the devolution of mankind. What kind of lessons are you teaching that little girl? How will she look at your people when she grows up? You’re creating enemies for life. If you’re all so enlightened as you believe, than maybe you should look for a better solution than kicking an entire country when it’s down. You’re showing the rest of the world how to be a coward.”

Ahmed’s anger boiled to the surface. Listening to Bert reminded him of the men that ended his father’s life so many years ago. It was more than he wanted to think about at this time. He tried to focus his mind on the task at hand. He was so close to completing the path the Imam had set out for him. He wouldn’t be deterred with this rhetoric.

Ahmed shook his head and looked at Veronica with disgust in his eyes. “She will grow up just like the rest of you. It’s too late for her generation. You and your country of blasphemers should have thought of that long ago. It’s too late now for your wasted ideals. You’ve gone too far. You’ve brought this planet to the brink of extinction. It's no coincidence that the sun lashed out at this piece of earth. Allah could have directed his angry sun anywhere, but He waited till the corrupters of the West rotated into range. Don’t even try to explain that away with your science. The universe has a grand scheme to deal with highly evolved parasites.”

Lights started flickering in the room. Bert had already turned his light off. Ahmed’s men hadn’t been so prudent with the few battery-powered lights they carried. Soon, they were all in the dark. Two shots rang out, but stopped when Ahmed shouted commands in Arabic. There was much scuffling and yelling in both Arabic and English.

Dawson climbed over the table, bumping and knocking down several bodies in the process. He lunged for the last place he’d seen Veronica, but she wasn’t there. He called to her, which gave away his position. He was grabbed momentarily by strong arms, then broke free, knocking back the attacker. He hoped it wasn’t Jake or Bert that grabbed him, but couldn’t be sure. He suspected not though, as the arms seemed younger and stronger. Dawson worked his way around the room, but couldn’t find Veronica. He didn’t know whether or not Chase was still in the room. He heard footsteps running along the tunnels, but had no idea whose they were.
What would Veronica do
, he thought. Her first instinct would be to run to him. Maybe she was too scared. Maybe they’d already taken her into the other tunnels. But which way to go? He thought he heard a voice down one of the passages.
Maybe, just maybe
, he thought,
she’s made it out
. He should follow her, but what of Chase? He was still likely in the room. Someone would find a light eventually, and he’d lose his advantage. He decided quickly. Waiting for someone to start firing would be a mistake.

Dawson headed in the direction of the voice. He was sure he heard it, albeit faintly. Veronica was definitely calling to him. He had to find her before someone else did. He moved in the direction of her voice, bumping into another body. He considered speaking, but opted for silence. Let the confusion do its work. For all he knew he was running into Ahmed himself. It could be his chance to finish him. He heard Veronica one more time calling to him.

Out he darted into the passageway. He ran into the dark, following the voice. What if someone else got there first? She was all alone in the dark. He had to move quicker. It could be a trap. Their leader would do something like that … put words into her head, to make her call out to him. Then what? If he did, he’d have both of them alone in the dark. He could use her as leverage against him. Dawson moved faster through the passageway. He bumped into walls. Her voice sounded fainter. Was she moving, or giving up? He could hear the sobs now. Again he bumped into another dead end and had to feel his way down the passage. He gave no thought to how disoriented he was. No thought to what he would do when he got to Veronica. Finding their way back in the dark would be nearly impossible. She’d be terrified. It could take days to find their way out. They’d have to do it with enemies swarming the tunnels hunting them.

Finally, he came around a corner and nearly tripped over her on the floor. She was terribly silent and hardly breathing. Dawson dropped to his knees and picked her up in his arms. He was so tired, but she seemed so light.
It must be the adrenaline
, he thought. They were alone now together in the dark. At first she flinched away from him, till he spoke to her.

“It’s OK, baby. I’ve got you. It’s Dad, don’t worry. The bad men are gone and can’t find you here.”

“Daddy,” Veronica said through sniffles. “I could hear footsteps running all around me. I heard the guns go off and I ran. I’m sorry.”