Super Pulse (Book 4): Defect Page 17

They’d just passed the exit for Trenton when Plankton shook Lou awake from where he sat behind the wheel. “Two dudes on the road ahead,” he said simply.

  “You better stop before they see us,” Lou said. “You know the drill by now. Pull behind that silver car.”

  “Judging by how they’re standing there looking our way,” Plankton said as he followed Lou’s order, “I think they already have.”

  “We better wake Squid up,” Lou said. When they looked back through the rear window into the bed of the truck, where Squid sometimes slept during the day so he could handle most of the guard duty at night, they saw that he’d already noticed the drop in speed and was rousing himself. After the truck stopped he vaulted over the side and joined them in the cab.

  “How many are there?” he asked, showing that he’d already taken the situation in.

  “We’ve only seen two,” Lou said.

  ‘Do they know we’re here?” Squid asked.

  “Hard to say,” Lou told him. “Plankton thinks so, just going by body language. But it could be that they’re just looking up and down the road for anything interesting.”

  “It’s getting dark in an hour or two anyway,” Squid said. “How about we wait it out until sunset? After they can’t see us anymore, we’ll drive into the woods to make camp. We’ll skip the fire tonight so nobody finds us. Chances are they’ll be gone by the time we wake up.” When neither replied, he added “Not that I’m the boss. It’s just an idea I’m throwing out there.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Plankton said. “You know I’m not looking for a fight with a couple of strangers.”

  “Or a couple dozen,” Squid said. “You never know.”

  “Okay by me, too,” Lou agreed. “We should be okay as long as they didn’t already see us.”

  ~~~

  The next morning found Squid rushing to his sleeping companions just after daylight. He clamped a hand over their mouths while giving them enough of a shake to awaken them. “We’ve got trouble,” he whispered. “Looks like whoever that was last night tracked us here. There’s ten or fifteen men tramping through these woods. One of them is about to crash our camp site. He’s probably just the point man. Grab your guns and stay low.”

  A minute later they were all crouching in the homemade lean-to they carried around in the back of the truck to set up every night. Whoever was stalking them wasn’t making much of an effort to keep quiet. Twigs snapped and leaves rustled as he circled the camp. “He’s not very good at this,” Plankton whispered.

  “Is he armed?” Lou whispered back.

  “I can’t tell,” Plankton replied.

  Squid placed a finger over his lips as the man approached the lean-to. As he came closer, all three occupants watched from between the slats. Noting how tall the intruder was, Squid decided to take advantage. When he reached their hiding place and stooped to peer inside, Squid sprang out at his legs, throwing him brutally to his back while raising his pistol in a single motion. After landing with a grunt the unidentified man began wheezing and coughing. Squid knew he’d simply had the breath knocked out of him, but that wouldn’t last. Before he had a chance to recover, Squid scrambled up the man’s lanky frame and jammed his pistol into his neck.

  “You have a weapon on you?” he demanded. With a look of horror on his face, the man shook his head emphatically to indicate that he didn’t. “Search him anyway,” he told Lou. “This pistol stays where it is until you tell me he’s clean.” He turned to the intruder. “Why are you here? What are you looking for?”

  The man had obviously been running, and was winded. As he fought to catch his breath, he spoke. “We’re, like, running from all those dudes, that’s all! There’s tons of them! I don’t know where they came from! We don’t want any trouble with you!”

  Squid glared at him. “I saw them, too. Are you telling me you’re not with them?”

  “No,” he answered. “Like, me and Nick ran out of gas and we were looking for more when they showed up. They didn’t look too friendly. We took off and they chased us into the woods.”

  “What’s your name?” Squid asked.

  “Dewey,” the man said. “Dewey Bishop. I mean, that’s not my—"

  “I believe him,” Squid said to Lou. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not a threat.” They could hear shouting now. The pursuers were coming closer. He reached down, grabbed Dewey’s hand and pulled him up. “So where’s this other guy you were with? Nick is his name?”

  As if on cue, Nick emerged from behind a tree with his hands extended into the sky. He’d obviously been following the conversation. As soon as he knew he’d been seen, he stopped until Squid waved him over. “Pat him down, too,” Squid ordered Plankton. “We need to know what we’re dealing with here.”

  “They’re right behind me!” Nick warned. “They’re coming fast!”

  While Plankton was frisking him, Squid turned his efforts to interrogation. “We don’t have a lot of time,” he told Nick. “Are these men armed?”

  Nick looked nervously toward the sound of the approaching attackers. “I only saw sticks and clubs,” he answered. “What about you, Dewey?”

  “Yup,” Dewey agreed. “I didn’t, like, see any guns and stuff.”

  “We had a rifle in our truck,” Nick said. “They’re probably all over it by now, so they might have that.”

  Lou had already gone to their own stores and fetched the shotgun and rifle. She handed the shotgun to Plankton. “You still locked and loaded?” she asked Squid, already knowing the answer before he tapped his pocket with a nod.

  “This shouldn’t be too hard,” Squid said. “If everything you said is right.” He waved Plankton, Nick and Dewey behind the truck. After giving them some instructions, he and Lou slipped into the trees and waited for the enemy to arrive.

  When the first three invaders popped out into the clearing, Plankton fired a shotgun blast in their direction. He hit nothing but tree limbs, but it served warning on the attackers, who turned around and scattered as quickly as they arrived. Another appeared from a different direction, this one brandishing a metal club. This time a shot rang out from where Lou and Squid had hidden themselves. The man went down hard. A few seconds later three more broke out of the tree line and scurried toward the truck, only to meet the same fate. That time even Plankton had taken one of them down after reloading.

  After losing so many so quickly, the attackers apparently lost their will to fight, and the woods went quiet. After a few minutes had passed, Squid and Lou circled through the trees and joined the rest of the group. “They won’t be back,” Squid promised. But he and Lou didn’t put down their weapons. Without verbalizing a plan, each watched the surrounding forest in opposite directions.

  “So what’s your story?” Plankton asked Nick. “What are you doing out here?”

  “We’re out looking for somebody who got kidnapped,” Nick said. “Our friend and his family.”

  “By them?” Squid asked, waving in the direction that the attackers had fled.

  “That hadn’t occurred to me, but who knows?” Nick answered. “We never saw the kidnappers. But I don’t think so. We’re pretty sure they took them back to their settlement in Atlantic City.”

  Squid looked at him. “That’s the second time I heard about this settlement. How sure are you?”

  “Very,” Nick said. He explained everything that had happened as best he could without giving away the location, or even existence, of Tabernacle.

  When he was done, Squid gave him a withering look. “That story’s got some holes,” he said. “Are you hiding something?”

  “No,” Nick said. “They broke into our, uh, hideout, and took Matt and his whole family away.”

  “In your own vans,” Squid reminded him. “Must have been a pretty big hideout.”

  “It was,” Nick admitted.

  “How many people in your group living there?” Lou asked.

  “About thirty,” Nick answered.

  “And what, they s
ent you out to go recover this family?” Squid asked.

  “We went on our own,” Dewey told him.

  “In a truck,” Squid said. “But you ran out of gas, got overrun, and they chased you here. Is that about it?”

  “That’s exactly it,” Nick replied.

  Squid nodded. “That’s good enough for now, I suppose. I know you’re not telling me everything.”

  Once they were convinced that the attack was over, Nick announced that he was going to check on the purple truck. Squid volunteered to go along with him, and had Plankton lend Nick the shotgun. They were gone for several hours. When they returned, they had bad news. The road was clear of men, but there was no sign of the truck.

  What are you going to do now?” Lou asked them as Plankton worked on starting a fire.

  Nick and Dewey exchanged a worried glance. “Not sure,” Nick conceded. “We’ve lost everything we had, which wasn’t much. There’s no way we’re getting our truck back.”

  Squid and Lou looked at each other. Lou nodded. Plankton did too, even though nobody seemed to be looking in his direction. “You can stick with us if you want to,” Squid said. “We’re heading toward Atlantic City ourselves. See, I’m looking for somebody, too. Maybe the ones you’re looking for and the one I’m looking for are in the same place.”

  “Who are you looking for?” Nick asked Squid. “If you don’t mind my asking?”

  “My partner,” Squid said with a faraway expression on his face. “I’m really struggling on my own. Sometimes I need a kick in the rear.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Nick replied. “Good luck with that.” He looked off into the trees, now harder to make out as darkness enveloped the camp. “You know, it’s funny. I just got involved with somebody like that. She’s sweet, but she’ll give it to me straight when I need it. It really hard to leave, knowing we’d be apart.”

  “Leave what?” Squid asked.

  “Um, the hideout,” Nick said.

  “The hideout,” Squid said dryly. He held up an imaginary drink, which Nick clinked with an imaginary one of his own. “To reunions,” he said. “Yours and mine.”

  “To reunions,” echoed Nick.

  “This one goes out to Mr. Figueras!“ shouted Plankton as he fanned the tinder he’d strewn across the beginnings of the fire. “You’re the best!”

  “I’ll tell you about him later,” Squid whispered to Nick, who nodded discreetly. “You’ll learn to love Plankton just like we do before long.”

  Nineteen

  “We can make that happen,” Rollie told Matt. “But I don’t think you want this. Let me tell you why.” Matt had just finished spelling out the terms under which he’d agree to revamp the water production process, although he hadn’t yet told Rollie how difficult that was going to be. He knew he didn’t have the leverage he was pretending to have, but that didn’t even seem to be a factor in Rollie’s response. Rollie was holding back. Matt expected to be told that he was in no position to be dictating the terms of his stay in Atlantic City. But those words hadn’t been spoken. It had been a carefully orchestrated discussion so far. “Let me tell you why,” Rollie continued.

  “Okay,” Matt said. “But Ellie and I have our minds made up. I think.”

  “Ha ha,” Rollie said. “You don’t sound like it.”

  They were sitting outside in what had once been a Boardwalk café of sorts in front of the Tropicana Casino. It had been a Hooters restaurant, to be exact. Laughing gulls hovered at an altitude of twenty feet in every direction, clearly in anticipation. It hadn’t been very long since humans at this table might have ended up providing a good meal for them, or at least a snack. These birds looked old enough that they remembered this, and they weren’t going to miss out if it happened again.

  “Yeah, it might feel like a prison to you up in the tower,” Rollie said. “I can understand that. But it isn’t one. You’re living better up there than ninety percent of the people in this town. And they don’t have any more freedom than you have. They’re not going anywhere, either.”

  “But they don’t have a bunch of armed guards lurking outside their door like we do,” Matt pointed out. “They’re spooking my boys, and my wife, too. In my book, that’s a prison cell.”

  “They don’t have those men outside their doors, or patrolling in the neighborhoods, but you can bet they wish they did,” Rollie said. “You’re a lot safer with those guys out there. Where exactly would you rather be, anyway? What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, where do most people live?” Matt asked, already surprised at what he was being told.

  “A lot of them live in the bottom floors of the high-rises,” Rollie answered. “That’s the preferred location for anybody who can get it. Yeah, you’re up a little higher than they are right now, but not by much. The rest live in the neighborhoods, mostly south of the monument. And believe me, life there isn’t paradise. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but most of them would rather be where you are.”

  “Really? Why?” Matt asked.

  “It’s dangerous out there, and they don’t have any protection like you have,” Rollie said. “And I ain’t just talking about from the ghetto. There’s a lot of crime besides that. Neighbor on neighbor. Everybody’s out for themselves, especially when they’re hungry. There’s been some fighting and some killing over food and places to live. It happens all the time, as a matter of fact.”

  “Really?” Matt asked. “We didn’t have that where I came from. We wouldn’t turn on each other. Never.”

  “Never?” Rollie asked. “I don’t see how you can say that. Who do you think smashed you over the head and tied you up to bring you here?”

  “That’s different,” Matt answered. “He was an outsider. He wasn’t one of us. The original members wouldn’t ever have done anything like that.”

  “Maybe that’s because you had enough to eat,” Rollie argued. “And warm places to live.”

  “Or maybe it was the other way around,” Matt said. “We worked our butts off and stuck together, and that’s why we have food, and warm cabins to go to every night.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Rollie said. “Kumbayah. Whatever. It ain’t like that here is all I’m saying.”

  “What about all the fish, and the water, and all that?” Matt asked. “I thought you were feeding everybody?”

  Rollie shrugged. “That was the idea, but it doesn’t always work that way. It doesn’t always trickle down to everybody. That’s what I’m saying. You’ll eat good in the tower. Out there, well, I can’t make any promises. You’d have plenty of neighbors ready to snatch the food right off your plate, and everybody else’s in your family, too.”

  “Wow,” Matt said. “That changes things. I appreciate the honesty, at least. But now I really want to get out of this place and get my family back home.” He watched a bedraggled collection of residents, probably a family or two, walking up the Boardwalk, glancing around furtively as if they were afraid of something but had been drawn out in search of what they needed. It was the perfect illustration of what Rollie had just described to him, and was the reason he didn’t want his family there in Atlantic City anymore. Now he knew the truth.

  “All in good time,” Rollie said.

  Both men watched until the passersby were far enough away that their footsteps and chatter could no longer be heard. “Kind of cold to be out for a stroll,” Matt remarked.

  “Maybe they’re going somewhere,” Rollie said. “Or maybe they just wanted some exercise. The Boardwalk is the safest place in town. I’m not sure why.”

  “Hmm,” Matt said. “Interesting. But how about we talk about the water? The sooner we fix it the better.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Rollie said. “So what do we need to do to fix it?”

  “The problem is that you’re basically drinking salt water,” Matt said.

  “No kidding,” Rollie said.

  “I can’t figure out how there aren’t even more people dying than there are,” Matt said. “You jus
t can’t do that to the human body.” He cocked his head and stared at Rollie. “And yet, you’re healthy as a horse. How can you explain that? Same as the food? The good water doesn’t trickle down to the regular folks?”

  Rollie pushed himself forward in his seat, leaning across the table at Matt. “Let me make a suggestion to you,” he said in a threatening tone that Matt hadn’t heard from him before. “For your own benefit. Stop asking questions like that. Otherwise it won’t end well for you. Just fix the water that Levan makes.” He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “Now, what have you got for me on that?”

  Matt took a deep breath. Rollie was right. He should focus on the mission for now. There was no way he could save everybody, but maybe he could save his own family. “The news isn’t so good,” he said. “You’re boiling the water, but that doesn’t get the salt out. When it cools down and Levan ships it out, most of the salt is still in there. You’d need all kinds of extra equipment to de-salt it. I think the actual word is ‘desalinate.’ I’m no expert on it, but from what I know, if you want to use heat to do it, you have to boil it and then capture the steam. When the steam condenses back to liquid form, the salt would be gone. But that’s a far cry from what you’re doing now.”

  Rollie nodded approvingly. Matt wasn’t sure why. “Good stuff,” he said. “So all we need to do is add a few pipes and pots and contraptions, right? We could probably find everything we need around town, I’m guessing.”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” Matt said. “But it seems unlikely. And nobody, including me, knows exactly what to build. And we have no idea how soon we could do it, or how much water we could process. It might go a lot slower than it does now.” He paused, not sure how much he should reveal, but then added “We have a library back where I’m from. Our leader thought of that. If I was there maybe I could look it up.”

  “Whatever,” Rollie snarled, waving at the air as if he could dismiss the specter of Grover Monroe from the table. “So how do we get started?” he asked. “What do we do first?”

  “Let me suggest an alternate idea,” Matt answered. “It might be simpler and faster to go find fresh water on the mainland. Then all you have to do is get it back here and clean it. Cleaning fresh water is a much simpler job, and I know a lot of different ways to do it. If you ask me, you’d have that up and running long before you get your de-salting operation going. That’s the way I’d go.”