Trisha nodded. “Yes. Where now?”
“We are talking to a resistance outside of Ohio. They’re setting up a coordinated attack. I’ll know soon where we go next. In the meantime, go deal with Mason.” He turned to walk away.
Trisha reached out and grabbed his arm. “All this. Moving every other day, always on the run, always fighting… is it worth it, Sebastian? Is it?”
“Yes. Yes, it is,” Sebastian replied. “More than you realize, this will work. Out there, everywhere, people are doing their part. It’s the only way.”
Office of the Prime Minister, England
Adriene Winslet was furious. She was about as close to a temper tantrum as she could possibly be. She didn’t need confirmation or intel to know what had happened at NORAD. It wasn’t the Americans that killed all the soldiers and she immediately placed a call to Petrov.
“You went rouge. How dare you!” she scolded him on the phone.
“They called for help.”
“There was a plan.”
“Yes, there was, but we underestimated the force that remained. They needed help securing the command headquarters.”
“It was not your call. The Canadians are in there, surveying. Right now, the People’s Republic of China has control of the United States and commodities. It has been two weeks since we have received anything. Now with this, it will be even longer.”
“This is nothing,” said Petrov. “If we do not help the Americans counter and counter now, it will be a long time before we see any shipments from the United States. They have a massive fleet and movement toward the US for another invasion. Now is the time.”
“I cannot commit the troops at this time. I have unprecedented discord right now. The troops cannot deploy.”
“I don’t want the troops, I need your resources.”
“You went rogue, Mr. President. That was not part of the plan. I only agreed to help because our military leaders were going to pull a joint effort in coming up with a fool proof…”
“Madam Prime Minister,” Adriene’s aid called her and held up a phone. “President Shu.”
Every corpuscle in her body paused at that moment when she heard the name of the president of China.
“I will call you back,” she said to Petrov. She hung up that call and took the phone from her aide. “This is Prime Minister Winslet.” She paused. “Yes, Mr. President we are aware. I assure you we had nothing to do with this. Our resources are very strained and…” Again, she paused as she listened, as the president of China did no less than back her into a corner.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Eighteen Days Post Bombs Caldwell, OH
Harris recognized that navy blue shirt with the green checkered pattern. He saw the man wearing it when they served food. He was envious, not from a fashion standpoint, but rather the man had an extra layer of clothes.
There were other colors mixed in the pile, brown, green, white… but seeing that shirt, the one he knew, told Harris that it wasn’t going to be long before he died.
Something he feared.
He wondered a lot of things. Had they not chased the truck would they have been arrested? What if they stayed in the shelter just one more day? There were a lot of what ifs, but Harris would never know. The truth was he was captured for some reason, arrested for being a war criminal, and penned up like some sort of wild animal.
Each day, each hour that passed, those in the pen became animals. Daily fights broke out, and it didn’t take long for people to go from refusing to eat the garbage they served to fighting over a handful.
No one really messed with Harris, he was a big man. Toby on the other hand wasn’t and Harris did all he could to protect him. Even though Toby boasted he could take care of himself. His face was still swollen beyond recognition over the pummeling he had taken.
In fact, protecting Toby for the evening was how he saw the shirt.
Everyone searched for a spot to sleep, to eat their measly rations, go to the bathroom. Harris found a far-off corner of the yard. Where a concrete barricade had been erected with barbed wire to stop anyone from going behind the prison to the remaining yard.
He made a spot for him and Toby but soon realized why no one took that spot.
The smell.
There was a horrendous smell that carried outward every time the wind blew. Harris knew as the days passed that it would only get worse.
He couldn’t see the source of the smell just by peering over the barricade, but when he walked to the very end where the barricade met the fence, and he pressed his face against the very corner, he could see not only what caused the odor but why they weren’t in the prison.
Mounds.
In the rear prison yard were mounds of bodies, and Harris knew they were inmates. They had been killed, every single one of them, then discarded.
The piles were made up primarily of those jumpsuits the prisoners wore with occasional dots of other bodies with other clothing. Such as the blue and green checkered shirt.
Harris had just seen that man. He saw them take him out of the yard. The man wasn’t any trouble, not a fighter, he was chosen to go.
As they all would be.
He looked carefully for purple, because that was what Marissa was wearing. They hadn’t seen her since they arrived.
He didn’t see purple anywhere in that mound. He’d check again later and keep checking.
There has to be a way out, Harris thought. With more prisoners in the camp than soldiers, there had to be a way to overturn things.
He was bound and determined to find that way.
“Hey,” Toby called out groggily.
Harris looked over and Toby was sitting up. “Hey, you didn’t miss breakfast.” He walked to him.
“I’m not eating that stuff.”
“You have to eat. Seriously, you have to,” Harris told him. “Bet about right now you’re sorry you lost that weight.”
“Nah,” Toby said. “I need to be nimble. I’m gonna get out of here and get us help.”
“I believe you will,” Harris said. “We both will.”
“What about Marissa?” Toby asked. “If we get out, we can’t leave her behind.”
“We may not be able to take her with us but we will come back for her.” Harris peered over his shoulder to the barricade. “If you know she’s still alive.”
“I wish there was a way to find out.”
“Who knows.” Harris sat down, and when he did, his eyes focused outward. “Wait. Maybe there is.” He lifted his hand slightly and pointed to the guy they called the census taker. The man who came in with his little computer, spoke with a British accent and took down their names. He was leaving from his morning census, but he’d be back. Harris would ask him. He could know about Marissa. It wouldn’t hurt to try.
At the rate it took to check in each person, with the amount of people in each camp, Cal believed it would take months.
He was allotted only a certain amount of time in the prison yard, less than the other area because those in the prison were considered extremely dangerous. Admittedly, Cal was nervous in there and around them. He fumbled so much he dropped things when he gathered his laptop and folders. Biscuits, crackers, and those little foil packs of peanut butter he saved from his meal for a later snack. He was just glad he never dropped that phone.