Steven Konkoly - Event Horizon

“I think, yes. They definitely took control of the streets within twenty-four hours,” said Ryan.

“With rifles like mine?”

“That’s what we saw.”

“Only a well-established underground militia group could have pulled that off. The Liberty Boys never went away. They just went deeper underground and waited.”

“What happened to the guy you saw?” asked Ryan.

Alex unclipped his rifle and walked toward the couch near the front of the apartment. He desperately needed to sit down.

“I killed him,” said Alex, setting his rifle against the back of the couch.

He dropped his aching, deliriously tired body onto the soft couch and sighed. Ryan followed with a bottle of water, pushing it against Alex’s hand. He sat in one of the chairs across from his father, his dark form barely outlined against the front window of the apartment. Chloe sat in the chair next to Ryan and posed the question that his son hesitated to ask.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Because he was trying to kill me. They all were.”

“They all were?”

“Four of them followed me to the sixth floor of your dorm,” said Alex.

“Four? What happened to the rest?”

“Same thing.”

“Holy crap,” muttered Ryan, “we’re screwed.”

“Why did they follow you?” said Chloe.

Alex lifted his legs onto the couch and leaned backward, wanting desperately to close his eyes.

“They were waiting for me when I got out of the river. I managed to shoot my way through their welcoming committee with the help of a talented marine sniper. They probably assumed I’m some kind of marine saboteur.”

“That doesn’t make… none of this makes sense. Right? What happened to the bridges?” asked Ryan, the shadow of his hand reaching over to Chloe. “Why do the Liberty Boys care if you’re a marine?”

“Because they think this is all some kind of false flag conspiracy set in motion by the government to declare martial law. They see the marines, or any military unit on the streets, as the enemy. The bridges are still there. It’s just that nobody’s allowed across, in either direction.”

“That’s insane,” said Chloe.

“I agree, but I don’t see either side budging. Your dad radioed me about an hour and half ago with news that the marine headquarters had been attacked. The marines put an end to all northbound bridge traffic after they discovered a large weapons cache hidden among a group of refugees. They see the Liberty Boys as some kind of criminal insurgency. I need to call your dad,” said Alex, opening one of the pouches on his vest. “He can’t respond, but he’ll be listening.”

Alex detached the earpiece from the radio and increased the volume, filling the room with static.

“Durham Three-Two, this is Durham Three-Zero. Press the transmit button the preset number of times when you are ready to receive the broadcast.”

The static clicked three times, and Alex nodded.

“Durham Three-Zero has arrived at the second rendezvous location. Both VIPs located. Stand by for separate transmission,” he said, handing the radio to Chloe.

“Do I have to talk like that?”

“No. Just keep it short, and don’t give away any information. Someone might be listening,” said Alex.

“Daddy, it’s me. We’re both fine. I love you. We’ll be together soon,” she said and handed the radio back.

“VIPs are in good condition and capable of travel. Will advise when ready to move. Durham Three-Zero, out,” he said and sat the radio on the coffee table.

“Thank you, Mr. Fletcher,” Chloe said, breaking into a muted, controlled sob. “Thank you for coming to get us.”

Ryan got up to comfort her.

“I’m just one part of the dream team. If you saw all of us at one time, you might consider taking your chances alone with the young master Fletcher,” he said, feigning a British accent.

“Good lord,” said Ryan, shaking his head. “When do you think we’ll leave?”

“I don’t know. I figure the Liberty Boys will make their big move on Cambridge tonight. We need to be across the river and out of Boston before the festivities begin. If we leave an hour before dusk, we should be able to reach either the Arsenal Street Bridge or North Beacon Street Bridge by nightfall. I have signal flares that will keep the marines from shooting us when we cross. We can swim if the militia has the entrances to the bridges locked down. I’m tempted to make a run for it right now, but…” said Alex, shaking his head.

“It’ll be light soon,” said Chloe.

“Too soon. And they’re actively looking for me. We could consider leaving earlier, but it’ll mean leaving most of my gear behind. We’d have to look and play the role of beleaguered travelers heading north. Make up some story about getting stranded during a camping trip somewhere in Rhode Island. I don’t know. I’m too tired to think about it,” Alex said, barely aware that he had mumbled his last sentence with his eyes closed.

His last conscious thought of the morning revolved around Ed Walker. Chloe’s dad was probably handcuffed to a dormitory bed somewhere in Harvard Yard. The pre-established code had been six clicks, not three.

EVENT +49:20

Limerick, Maine

Kate refilled her coffee mug from the stainless-steel percolator on the stove and joined the adults at a rough-hewn farmer’s table on the screened porch. The moist, early morning breeze felt chilly compared to the house, which had managed to retain much of the previous day’s late afternoon heat long into the night. It still felt swampy, which wasn’t a good sign for the rest of the day. Temperatures inland tended to run ten degrees hotter than the coastline, creating saunalike conditions remedied by a swim in the lake or air-conditioning—neither of which was an option today. They had too much work ahead of them.

She’d woken two hours earlier and strolled the perimeter of the 2.5-acre clearing with a thermos of coffee and her rifle. Stopping every fifty feet to listen for anything out of place, she walked the inner grounds until she spotted a light on the second floor of the main house an hour into her patrol. Returning to refresh her coffee supply, she found Linda Thornton filling a second thermos, rifle slung over her back. Having Linda at the compound made a big difference. They spent the next hour forming a basic strategy to protect the compound from the inevitable shit storm headed their way.

If the kid hadn’t been lying about his association with local militia, they faced a serious threat. Alex’s research into militia groups had been frightening, and she didn’t share some of his more optimistic conclusions about their overall intentions. Heavily armed and highly organized, they were everywhere. If anyone in Limerick recognized her face or Emily’s when they drove through town, the militia would find them. Being “from away” drew attention in rural Maine, and their land purchase from the Gelders hadn’t exactly endeared them with the locals.

She placed her hands around the steaming cup and started the meeting.

“Linda and I came up with a rough plan to get the most important work done by the end of the day. We’ll divide into three groups— security, IT and general prep. Samantha and Tim will head up the IT group, with Abby, Emily and Ethan to help. Your first task will be to figure out how to hook up the outer perimeter surveillance gear. Motion detectors, remote cameras, thermal detection stuff. Alex has a bunch of diagrams in a logbook down there. Once you figure out how to hook it up, the security group will install it, along with the trip flares. It’s a massive perimeter, but Alex put a lot of thought into this.”