“My dad owned the local hardware store. We managed to get to the store, only to find that there was no power and no telephones. People were arriving looking for help and supplies. My dad loaned out almost everything in the store to help people survive, not asking for anything in return. Everything we had was invested in that store, but my dad felt that people were more important than money.
“Insurance money eventually came but it was too little, too late. What saved us was the people dad helped during the earthquake. He helped them repair their homes with free help and supplies that he loaned to them. The people came back and helped my dad rebuild his business. I was only ten at the time, but that experience changed the course of my life. I went to college and got an MBA, determined to create a business that would help people in a disaster. One thing led to another, and I now have eight businesses spread out over the globe. During that time I also found a number of business owners who also had a deep desire to be of service to other people, and we formed the Survivalist Network.
“Does this sound like something you would like to join?” John asked.
I thought about the people who were hunting me and the fate that waited for me at the end of that terrifying and horribly painful journey. I also thought about the people on the planet and the trial-by-fire that they faced. Finally, here was John, not only offering me a way out, but a way to help save perhaps millions of people. How could I say no? “Yes, it does,” I replied. “I’m in.”
“So where’s the robot’s head?” John asked.
I looked around the inside of John’s Lear jet, realizing how unprepared I had been. I looked down at the floor, ashamed at how guilty I now felt. “It’s still in the Clark Street Storage Facility along with my computer.”
“We’ll need to get it,” he said. “Tonight.”
“My ID card’s not going to work. They will have changed that already, and they’re likely to be watching my apartment.”
John nodded in recognition of the situation. “What security does the building have?”
“The place has only three doors, one ID card swipe entry. The other two are rolled bay doors that can be opened only from the inside. There’s a night guard on duty.”
“Armed?”
“Yeah, but I know him. It’ll be okay.”
“I’ll have two covert operatives go along with you, just in case.”
John picked up the phone in the cabin. “Change destination to Pasadena.” The Learjet 45 banked to the left. I felt dizzy and closed my eyes.
We arrived near the Clark Street Storage Facility just after ten that night. The covert operatives were dressed in dark clothes and looked to be ex-military. They didn’t appear to be carrying any weapons, but they didn’t look like they needed any, either.
“We’ll locate and neutralize the guard,” one of them said, “then we’ll enter and secure the package. In and out in under five minutes.”
I checked my watch, pulled out my cell phone and dialed.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Ordering a Pizza.”
We intercepted the pizza delivery guy on the driveway to the Clark Street Storage Facility.
“Remember me?” I asked as he peered out the window of his car.
“Yeah, how come you’re outside instead of inside the building?”
“I need a favor,” I said. “Fifty bucks to borrow your hat and jacket for ten minutes.”
“I don’t know man. I gotta pay for the pizza outa that.”
“Hundred bucks, cash up front.”
He looked at the two covert operatives. “I can’t be doin’ nothin’ illegal, man. I need this job.”
“Totally legit, ten minutes, a hundred bucks.”
“Plus the cost of the pizza?”
“Yeah, plus the cost of the pizza.”
“And the tip?”
I stood there and stared at him.
“Come on man! The pizza’s $11.78. You always give me a twenty and tell me to keep the change.”
“One twenty total,” I said.
“Awesome.”
I walked up to the lobby door wearing the hat and jacket carrying the pizza and pounded on the door. Leroy slowly walked through the door into the lobby, hand on his revolver.
“Carl?” he said. “What the hell you doin’, man?”
“Can you let me in?” I asked.
He swiped his card and opened the door.
“I brought pizza,” I said as I entered.
“Yeah, I see that. What are you doin’?”
“I need your help. I need the robot’s head and the stuff in the box — now!”
“Jesus, Carl! What’s goin’ on?”
“All hell’s about to break loose. The meteor storm we talked about is real and I need the robot’s head and the information it contains to help warn people what’s coming. I also need to get you and your family to a safe place before it all hits. I have people who can help.”
Leroy looked out the glass next to the door at the two guys waiting outside.
“This for real, man?” Leroy looked terrified. His hand started to shake and his lip quivered.
“It’s for real,” I replied. “We can protect you and your family. You’ll be safe with us. You can come with us now or whenever you’re ready. Your choice. Just let me know and I’m here for you.”
“Jesus Christ, man! Moniesha’s gonna kill me. She don’t like no surprises, and this one’s a whopper.” He looked me in the eye, the expression on his face pleading for what I told him not to be true.
“I know, Leroy, but I got your back. It’s going to be all right. You just gotta trust me.”
Leroy looked around nervously, considering what he had just heard. “All right,” he replied. “Let’s go get the box.”
It was a two and a half hour drive from Denver up into the mountains. I’d never been in the Rocky Mountains before. They were beautiful and majestic with all the rocks, pine trees and small streams cascading down next to the highway. We arrived at what John called his cabin: a two story log home with a thirty foot high set of glass windows rising to a peak in the front, surrounded by a wide railed porch. We climbed the six steps to the porch and John opened one of the double doors leading into the great room. The sunlight shining in through the glass front highlighted the natural wood interior. A half log wood stairway led up the left wall to the second floor where a railed walkway extended around the great room, leading to what I assumed were bedrooms on both sides. The kitchen was under the stairs to the back and there was a massive stone fireplace in the center of the great room extending up through the ceiling. On the right side of the great room were several offices, filled with computer equipment and other office machines.
“Do you like bright sunlight in the morning, or darkness?” he asked.
“I’m usually up early,” I replied, “I like the sun. California thing.”
“Then the room at the front right is yours,” he said pointing to the second floor at the far end from the stairs.
I carried the seven bags of clothes from the exclusive store John had stopped at after we left the airport. He had told them I was a private client, at which point the store had been quietly cleared and only one salesman had remained with us. I had felt strange, almost like secret royalty.
My room was similar to the house; natural wood decor and large. Double glass doors opened onto a balcony that faced the morning sun. I walked out onto the balcony and took a deep breath of the cool, oxygen rich mountain air, filled with the gentle scent of pine. The whole place was quiet and peaceful. I could get used to this, I thought. I unpacked the bags and put everything away in the dresser and the closet in the room, and headed back down stairs.