The Beginning of the End (Book2): Road to Damnation (29 page)

“Yes, sir.” Beck
said strapping the two-way radio device to his head. Sawyer stepped
up to Beck and stood at full attention. He waited for a second, and
snapped off a salute, “I’m proud of you son.”

Beck saluted back, “You
don’t have to worry, Master Chief. I’ve done this before. It’s
two wires, and it’s dummy proof.”

“It’s not the bomb
I'm worried about, Beck. It’s the fact that there are seven million
zombies walking around town and for the life of me, I can’t seem to
find one of them. My instinct tells me you’re going to have a bitch
of a time clearing this ville.”

“Don’t worry,
Master Chief. Like I said to Destiny, I’ll run 'em all down.”

Sawyer gave Beck a slap
on the arm, “I hope so my friend. I really hope so. Now, let’s
head down to the Tahoe and get the hell out of here.”

When they got to the
vehicle, everyone was loaded up, except for Daniels and Kaden.

Daniels gave Beck a
firm handshake and wished him luck. Kaden waited until they finished,
but didn’t say anything.

“What is it, little
man?” Beck asked.

“I want to stay with
you. I’m good with the rifle, and I can watch your back.”

Beck smiled and threw
his arm around Kaden, “I appreciate the offer, kid. But you’ll
just slow me down. I work better alone. I’ll meet you in Newark in
a few hours and then you can ride with me and be my co-pilot. How’s
that sound?”

It wasn’t what he
wanted to hear, but it would have to do. He crawled into the back of
the Tahoe, as Sawyer gave Beck one last handshake, “We’re out of
here, buddy. Keep that communicator on in case I need to contact you.
Remember, set your countdown timer to thirty minutes, and then
connect the remote detonator. Let’s sync up our watches, in three,
two, one, mark. The second that timer goes off, I want you to hook
that thing up and high-tail it out of here. We’ll see you on the
other side of the river in an hour.”

“I’ll be right
behind you,” Beck said as he lifted his wrist and tapped his watch,
“just over twenty-nine minutes, you better get moving.”

“Good luck,” Sawyer
said, as he gave Beck a quick nod and broke into a jog heading toward
the deck exit.

A few seconds later, he
was jumping in the passenger seat of the Tahoe. Daniels was already
in the driver’s seat and had the engine running. Sawyer glanced
back, between the group, at the all the food they’d taken from the
Intrepid. They were packed in there like sardines.

Sawyer slammed the
passenger door closed and ordered Daniels to step on it, “We’ve
got about twenty-eight minutes to make it over the bridge. Beck is
going to connect it whether we’re ready or not, and then he'll meet
us on the other side of the river.

Bunker pulled himself
forward from the back seat, “I just want to make sure I’m clear
about this. When Beck hooks up the detonator, it’s not going to go
off, right?”

“Right,” Sawyer
answered.

“Okay, I just want my
boy to be all right,” Bunker said, “No offense, but you can’t
always trust the government. If your detonator is a fuse, I say, fuck
it. We go back and get Beck and let President bum fuck come back here
and set it off himself.”

Sawyer chuckled, “It’s
not like that, Bunker. I wouldn’t leave a man behind like that. I
assure you he’s going to meet us on the other side of the river
this afternoon. By the time that bomb goes off, we’ll probably be
in Atlanta telling the General that the detonator's installed, and
then he sets it off.”

Bunker leaned back in
the seat, feeling a little better. Daniels glanced over at Sawyer and
muttered under his breath, “You better be right.”

Beck sat on the deck,
inches from the bomb, practicing sailor’s knots on a piece of nylon
rope he’d found tied to the backpack. In between knots, he’d
check the time. It moved agonizingly slow. He wanted this job
finished. Then he could catch up with his new friends. Maybe staying
back at the ship alone was a bad idea. He wished for the company of
another person.

He checked his watch
again, eleven minutes to go. Beck got up to his feet and headed for
the side of the deck. He scanned the horizon looking for movement or
any sign of the Tahoe.

Inside the side pouch
of his MOLLE vest, he kept a pair of low powered binoculars. They
weren’t the best, but maybe enough to see traffic on the George
Washington Bridge. Beck stared at the bridge and worked his way
backward along the Henry Hudson Parkway searching for any movement.
There was nothing. Maybe they’d already crossed. He glanced down at
his carbon-reinforced polycarbonate Luminox watch on his wrist. Six
minutes left.

“I suppose it’s
time to set up,” he said talking to himself.

Beck kneeled next the
pack, unclipped the top, and removed the laces from the pack side.

The backpack holding
the bomb wasn’t like the traditional school kids pack or an army
rucksack. It was a modified H-912 container covered in green military
straps, securing it to an aluminum frame. The top unlatched, giving
full access to the upper part of the bomb while the side had a single
split running down to the bottom with 550 cord. Unlacing the cord,
like untying a shoelace, gave full access to the device, also making
it easy to remove from the pack without damaging it.

By the time Beck
finished unlacing the pack, he was down to seconds. He carefully slid
the device from the bag onto the deck and set the remote detonator
next to it. The side pocket on the container shell had a small tool
kit with everything he’d need to remove the access panel on the
bomb. The device was armed, so pulling off the access panel, and
working on the control board made the chance of it going off a
distinct possibility. Inside the tool kit, Beck found the anti-static
wrist strap. This was nothing more than a wrist-strap with a piece of
metal inside of it connecting to a wire which alligator clipped to
the exterior shell of the device. A mere static discharge inside the
control board would be enough to make it go boom. That was the last
thing he wanted.

Beck paused and pushed
the button on his com-link, “Master Chief, I’m about to connect
the detonator. Are you guys clear?”

Beck waited for a
response.

When he didn’t get
one he tried again, “Master Chief, can you hear me? Are you clear?”

Without realizing it,
because of the radio’s poor reception, Sawyer had been trying to
radio Beck.

“Can you hear me?
Beck come in. We’re not even halfway. The Henry Hudson Parkway is
overrun with dead. Hold off on connecting the detonator until I tell
you we’re clear. I repeat, avoid the parkway on your evac. It’s
been overtaken with dead. I will radio you with a better route when
we find one. Damn it, Beck. Can you hear me? These damn buildings.”

Beck tapped his
earpiece a few times. For a brief second, he thought he heard Sawyer
speaking, but it was covered with static.

He glanced down at his
watch again. I’m already five minutes late. It’s time to get this
girl hot.

Beck pulled the
screwdriver from the tool kit and removed the four screws holding on
the access panel cover. He popped off the cover exposing ribbons of
rainbow wiring and connectors. Sawyer had armed the device and done a
diagnostics check earlier. With the bomb powered up, the six red LED
numbers displayed zeros. It sent a chill through Beck, knowing the
power this device had. He regained focus and found the wire strip he
was looking for in the panel. It consisted of two wires, one red and
one black.

Beck pulled the harness
connector free from the control board and picked up the remote
detonator from the deck. Only a single wire harness hung from the
detonator, with the corresponding red and black wires. He slid his
fingers down to the white plastic connector and lined it up with the
nuclear weapons control board.

Beck paused for a
second, working up the courage to plug it in, “Here we go,” he
said as he pushed the connector into the control board. He had been
trained how to do this but had never done it for real. It had only
been simulated in a classroom. He didn’t expect for the bomb to do
anything, but something seemed to be happening.

The device emitted a
sound that sounded like his wife’s expensive camera’s detachable
flash charging followed by a click. Beck’s heart pounded so hard,
he thought it was going to explode inside of his chest. His first
thought was to remove the black and red wires he had attached but
during his classroom exercises, he knew that was a sure way to set
off the bomb. He kept telling himself, “It will be alright. It’s
just cycling and connecting to GPS.”

About the time panic
was setting in, the sound stopped.

“Thank God.” Beck
sighed

He picked up the access
cover panel to re-attach it when the red LED number started cycling.
Zero through nine, so fast you couldn’t read the numbers. His
breathing increased again, as the radio went off in his ear,
startling him.

“Beck, can you hear
me? Come in, Beck.”

He pressed the
com-link, “Master Chief, I’m here. Can you hear me?”

“Thank god, I can
hear you. All the routes are blocked. We’re just past the halfway
point. We’re going to come back to you. Do not connect the
detonator. Do you copy? Do not connect the detonator.”

“Master Chief, you’re
too late. It’s connected.”

“It doesn’t matter.
We’re coming back to you anyway. The route is blocked. We’re
going to try to find a boat and take it down the river. Do you copy?”

“I copy, Master
Chief. I’ll start looking for a boat for…”

Beck was distracted by
a high-pitch beep coming from the control panel. He looked down at
the bomb, and his jaw fell open. The LED clock set itself to five
minutes and was counting down backward.

“Oh fuck,” Beck
sighed.

He pressed the button
on the com-link, “Master Chief, it’s counting down. Get out of
here!” Beck screamed into the radio.

“What?” Sawyer
answered.

“The bomb. It’s
counting down. Four minutes and thirty-nine seconds until
detonation.”

Sawyer screamed on the
radio, “Get out of there now, Beck! That’s an order, go!”

“Go, go, go,”
Sawyer, screamed at Daniels.

Daniels didn’t ask
any questions. From listening to one side of the Sawyer’s
conversation, he knew something was wrong. He pushed the pedal to the
floor. The Tahoe revved as it plowed through a horde of zombies.

A few minutes earlier,
they had contemplated heading back to the Intrepid, but now they had
no choice. Daniels pushed the 4 X 4 button on the dash. Just to make
sure nothing was going to stop them. Then he worked up the courage
and asked what was going on.

Sawyer looked at his
watch and said, “We’ve got about four minutes until the nuclear
weapon goes off.”

“We’re never going
to make it!” Daniels screamed as he pushed on the accelerator even
harder.

Bodies thumped off the
front end, as Daniels pulled the cell phone from his shirt pocket. He
tried to drive and type at the same time,
“Ty,
we’re not going to make it. Stay away from the city there’s a
nuclear bomb about to go off here. Tell your mother I love her, and
she was the best thing that ever happened to me. Tell Chevy I love
him too. Take care of your mom, Ty. It’s your job now. I love you,
Dad.

New York City had been
in sight for almost thirty minutes. The closer we got, the more
excited and worried I became. People in the Humvee spoke to me, and I
didn’t answer. We were all on edge, and I wasn’t hiding it as
well as could be expected.

Everyone was
complaining in the back, and I did my best to tune them out until
Chevy gave me a nudge.

“Snap out of it, man.
We’re almost there. You should be excited, not pissed off.”

“I’m not upset,
Chevy. I’m just really nervous. I’ll feel much better when I see
Dad.”

“I understand too,”
Mom said from the backseat. “How much farther do you think it is?”

“I’m not exactly
sure,” I said, “I’ve only been here a few times, but there are
signs for Bridge Plaza, Hudson Terrace, and Fort Lee so we must be
close.”

No sooner had I said
that the bridge came into view.

“There it is,” I
celebrated.

The double-decker
suspension bridge looked forgotten in this new wasteland. Other than
a few wrecked cars the bridge stood desolate.

I stopped the Humvee in
the middle of Interstate 95. I check my mirror and saw Cowboy’s
team coming up from behind.

“I’ve got to take a
pee. Come on, Charger,” Sage said as she climbed out of the back
seat.

“That’s not a bad
idea,” Mom said, as she followed Sage.

Judging from the rest
of the rumblings coming from the back, I think everyone was ready for
a pit stop.

Cowboy pulled up next
to me as I stepped out of the Humvee, “Piss break, hoss?”

“Yeah, we’ve been
on the road for a while. Dad is supposed to meet us on the bridge
there. I think it might be a good idea to get tactical, we’ll set
up some lookouts, and make this camp until we hear from dad.”

I reached back in the
Humvee and grabbed my phone and hit the home button.

There were no new
messages. I opened the texting app and typed, “We’re on the west
side of the GWB. We’re going to set up here and wait. We’ll have
eyes on the bridge. Please message me when you get this.”

“Anything?” Cowboy
asked.

“Nothing yet,” I
said, “but while driving earlier, we got a message, it was
illegible, but it was enough to let us know my dad is still alive.”

“Let’s hope he’s
here soon, I don’t like being this close to the city. After we hit
the head, Luther and I will take first watch.”