“You can’t open it.”
“Can’t? Or just not by me?”
“No one can. It’s impossible. Once it’s engaged, it’s there until the building falls apart.”
It’s what Ash had been afraid of. “Then how do they get out?”
“Helicopter.”
Ash tensed. “There’s a helicopter up there?”
“There’s usually two. But—”
“Shut up,” the other guy said.
“But what?” Ash asked.
The security man looked at him and then at his partner.
“Say another word and I’ll make sure you get exiled,” the other guy warned.
Ash whipped his gun from the first guy’s head to that of the troublemaker. “The Project’s been canceled. You’re all exiled.”
He pulled the trigger.
Turning back to the other one, he repeated, “But what?”
The guy stared at him, his face pale.
“But what?” Ash repeated.
The man swallowed, and then said, “But…but…but Commander Vintner’s team took them early this morning. As far as I know, they haven’t come b-b-b-back yet.”
Ash turned to his team.
“Ramirez and Yates, get this guy stored with the others on twenty-one and keep an eye on them. The rest of you, we’re going back outside.”
Chloe spotted the van half a block from NB016. After Bobby hotwired it, Ash drove them back to the river and across the bridge to the helicopter.
Once they were all on board and their weapons reloaded, Ash said to Bobby, “Cameras?”
“I changed the cards in the van just to be safe. We’re all set.”
“Good.” Ash scanned the rest of his team. “Everyone ready?”
The answer was a resounding, “Yes, sir!”
He tapped Omar on the shoulder. “Take us up.”
27
Noreen checked the rearview mirror again. The vehicle was still there. She’d lost sight of it as she drove through the hills between Thousand Oaks and Woodland Hills on the 101 Freeway, but after the road straightened out again, there it was.
She’d first spotted it about an hour earlier as she drove past Ventura. It had still been dark, not even a hint of morning registering in the east. The other vehicle wasn’t using its headlights, but every once in a while its parking lights would pop on for a few seconds before turning off again, as if the driver was spot-checking the road.
Now that the sun had risen, she could see the vehicle was an SUV. And there was no question it was closing the distance between them. It couldn’t be more than a quarter mile back.
The truck she, Riley, and Craig were in had come from a car dealership in San Luis Obispo. An F-150 crew cab. Riley had said she’d drive but she was exhausted from being up all night rescuing them, so after a while Noreen took the wheel. Craig was stretched out on the backseat. He had woken a couple of times but had soon drifted off again. For a while, Riley had watched him from the front passenger seat, making sure he was all right, but thirty minutes before Santa Barbara she’d fallen asleep.
The plan was to go south as far and fast as they could, putting as many miles as possible between them and the gang at the Ragged Point motel. Riley said she’d disabled their vehicles, but there were plenty of others in the area the kidnappers could’ve used.
The only stop the three had made was the one in San Luis Obispo. Keeping Craig upright on the motorcycle had become almost impossible. They hunted down some first-aid items to bandage up Craig’s wounds and then found the truck. All in all, they couldn’t have been there more than twenty minutes.
For a while, Noreen had thought they’d made a clean getaway, but that feeling had begun to fade when she spotted the other vehicle. The longer it stayed behind her, the more impossible it was to believe the driver was a random survivor who happened to be heading in the same direction they were.
Her gut said it’s Them.
Her goal was to reach the survival station at Dodger Stadium. People would be there — the UN. If she could get there before the kidnappers caught up — if they were the kidnappers — then she and Riley and Craig would be safe.
She wasn’t overly familiar with Los Angeles, but she did know the stadium was near downtown. Right now, that was still a good ten miles away.
With the sun rising, she could now see the road, so she pressed the accelerator down a little more. When she checked the mirror again, she saw the other vehicle had done the same.
Ben had found several vehicles that Project Eden had kept in the lot next to the stadium entrance. It was agreed that because of the number of abandoned cars they’d each seen in Los Angeles, it would be easier to travel by motorcycle. Since Ben had found only three bikes, they were forced to double up. Jilly rode with Martina, Valerie went with Amanda, and Martha rode behind Ben.
The last place Martina had seen her missing friends was north of Santa Barbara on the 101. She was well aware they could be hundreds of miles from there by now, but it was a place to start.
They rode on side streets and alleys until they found a clear way onto the I-5 north. From there, they switched to the 134 heading west into the San Fernando Valley, and soon transitioned onto US 101 near Universal Studios.
Here and there clusters of vehicles littered the freeway, some at the side, some in the middle of lanes, forcing them to reduce their speed as they drove around them. While many cars looked as if they were simply parked, a few had been involved in some pretty spectacular crashes.
They came upon a massive accident as they neared the interchange with the 405 Freeway. At least a dozen cars on their side of the road were smashed into each other, blocking the way. The southbound lanes were even worse, thirty cars or more filling the overpass.
They stopped their bikes.
“My God,” Jilly said. “What happened here?”
Martina shook her head. It was just another question for which they’d never know the answer. She gave her bike a little juice and rolled it over to the edge of the road, the others following her.
The sun began to peek over the mountains as she looked down on the 405. There were a few overturned cars that looked like they’d fallen from the 101, but otherwise the lanes were free. The problem, though, was the concrete divider that ran down the middle. No way could they get over that.
“We’ll have to go back to the last exit,” she said. “Work our way around until we can get on the 101 again.”
“We’ll follow you,” Ben said.
They exited at Sepulveda, and took the road south until they found a street that went under the 405. From there they followed the signs that led them back to the 101 via Haskell.
The last thing Martina expected to see as they roared back onto the freeway was a truck in the southbound lanes, driving fast in the other direction.
She heard Jilly yell something but couldn’t make it out. Jilly yelled again and tapped her hand rapidly against Martina’s ribs. Martina eased up on the accelerator and braked to a stop. As she did, an SUV whizzed by in the opposite lanes. This one had several people inside.
Jilly leaned up to Martina’s helmet and said loudly, “I think that was Noreen.”
“Noreen?”
“In the truck. I think she was driving!”
“Riley,” Noreen said, shaking her friend’s leg. “Riley, wake up!”
Riley forced her eyes open. “Just a little long—”
“I think they’re back there.”
Riley’s brows scrunched together. “Huh?”
Noreen nodded toward the rear. “Someone’s following us.”