Steven Konkoly - Event Horizon

“Did they have out-of-state plates?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

The line stayed silent for a few seconds.

“Alex, you still there?”

“Did you set up the sensors like I indicated?” said Alex.

“Yes, but we still have a lot of gaps in the perimeter.”

“What about the sandbags?”

“We filled about two hundred sandbags before the rain started, and we’ll start up again once it stops.”

“You should have enough to build two safe boxes. I’d get started on that immediately. You’ll have to run the table saw.”

“Linda and I decided to focus on the firing positions. We can’t repel an attack from the safe boxes,” she said, expecting some pushback.

“Good point. You’re right. Sorry to pepper you with questions. It sounds like you have things under control.”

“If you want to call it that. We had enough sandbags to build five positions. One in the master bedroom covering the eastern approach; two in the great room, giving us full coverage of the barn and lake approaches; one in the sitting room facing south; and the last one upstairs in the small bedroom. You can see most of the backyard and some of the barn from that one. If something goes down, we’ll herd the non-shooters into the basement with your mother.”

“Make sure you stack some spare mags at each position. I’m sure Dad is still walking around with one mag for his Vietnam-era relic,” said Alex.

Kate detected an ease that she didn’t expect.

“Linda duct-taped a spare to the stock, with a quick release tab. She’s like MacGyver.”

“Night vision?”

“Both of the spotting scopes are sitting on the kitchen island.”

“Sounds like you have the situation under control,” he said.

“We’ll all feel a hell of a lot better with you guys inside the perimeter.”

“I’m not sure how much of a difference we’ll make. Ryan needs crutches to get around, Charlie’s a refrigerator trip away from taking nitroglycerin pills, and I could probably use a wheelchair at this point. Ed and Chloe are the only fish you won’t throw back in the water.”

“I’m sure I can find a few uses for you, if you know what I mean,” she teased.

“I could use a visit or two from the naughty nurse,” he whispered.

“We left that costume back at the house,” she said.

“That’s what you think. Did you check the bottom of your rucksack?”

Kate burst into laughter, drawing a few stares from the kitchen. Alex’s mom hovered near the kitchen table, stealing glances at the phone.

“I’m getting dirty looks from everyone, so stop. Charlie said you were with the marines. What’s up with that?”

“Crazy story. One of my old platoon commanders is in charge of the reserve marine battalion based out of Fort Devens. He kind of saved my ass down here. I’m doing some intel analysis on militia groups for him. Stuff I can do on the couch. Got us an official escort back, which is a good thing. The borders are pretty much closed.”

“Well, I’m glad everyone is safe. Let me put your mother on before she blows a gasket. I love you. Call again when you’re in Limerick.”

“Will do. Love you too, honey.”

“Here’s your mother,” Kate said, nodding for Amy, who abandoned all pretense of staring at the floor and ran for the phone.

EVENT +61:33

Parsonsfield, Maine

Tyler Hatfield’s eyes shifted left and right through swollen eyelids when he lifted his bloodied chin to look Eli in the face. His breathing, made difficult by several broken ribs, appeared erratic and forced. The young man slowly cleared his throat and spat a mouthful of blood onto the dirt floor.

“You spit on me again, I’ll cut out your tongue and force feed it to your fiancée, along with a few other select cuts of meat.”

“Eli, I swear I was gonna come find you as soon as I could. I was on my way over right after—”

“After what? By my watch you’re about thirty-five hours late, unless the EMP fried your watch and—”

Hatfield started to respond, but Eli cut him off.

“And opened a black hole that suspended time!” said Eli, rushing up and pressing the flat side of a serrated knife against Hatfield’s cheek.

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Hatfield! You deserted my brother’s unit in the middle of battle. Got them all killed!”

“No. No,” he whimpered. “It wasn’t like that. Everyone was dead already. I had to get to the church to bring back reinforcements.”

“They found a radio in your car, deserter,” said Eli, twisting the blade and pushing it a few centimeters into his left cheek.

Hatfield screamed and twisted in his bindings against the thick wooden post holding up the dilapidated barn’s loft, succeeding only in digging the knife deeper into his face.

Eli put his face next to the man’s head and hissed, “You better come clean, boy, or I’m gonna gut your bride right in front of you. Tell me everything, and don’t leave out a single detail.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, Eli. Please don’t hurt Mary.”

“That all depends on you,” said Eli, slipping the knife out of his cheek. “Gentlemen, I got this from here,” he said to the two uniformed militiamen standing next to the closed barn door. “Why don’t you head up to the house and grab a few cold ones. It’s hotter than hell in here. Good work bringing this piece of shit in. Hatfield and I are about to have a heart-to-heart talk. Send Mr. McCulver down in about ten minutes.”

Eli wasn’t sure why he was congratulating these two idiots. It took them a day and a half to track down Hatfield’s fiancée’s home address and follow the trail to her sister’s house in Buxton, where Tyler and his disgustingly plain bitch were hiding. God help them if he couldn’t find better recruits. When the hatch next to the barn door slammed shut, exposing tendrils of dusty sunlight, he wiped his knife on Hatfield’s pants.

“Start talking.”

Several minutes later, Eli stood up from a scratched, unfinished wooden stool.

“You’re a hundred and ten percent sure they weren’t some kind of Special Forces unit? Just regular guys you say?”

“More than that. A hundred and twenty percent.”

“You can’t have more than a hundred and ten percent, Tyler. Everybody knows that.”

Hatfield continued pleading for his life, oblivious to Eli’s facetious comment.

“I don’t know how they got the jump on Jimmy, but by the time we got there, the whole west side of the bridge was throwing lead at us. Bikers, women, everyone had a gun. You stuck your head up; you got shot.”

“Is that so?” said Eli.

“I swear it.”

“I believe you, Tyler. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

Eli checked Hatfield’s bindings, ensuring that his wrists, ankles and neck were secured to the post. Confident that his captive couldn’t execute an embarrassing escape, he scurried to the left rear corner of the barn and pulled on a thick metal ring attached to the floor. A trapdoor inched open, revealing a rectangle in the hard-packed floor. Holding onto the ring, he leaned back, and the door swung on its hinges, stopping perpendicular to the ground.

He pulled a flashlight out of a pouch on his belt and descended the stairs. At the bottom, he activated the light and shined it in Hatfield’s fiancée’s face. Her head twisted away from the powerful beam. A muffled scream barely penetrated the thick layers of silver duct tape.

“Damn, it’s nice and cool down here,” he said, grabbing her thick brown hair and yanking her upright.

“You’ve been a good girl so far; don’t fuck it up now,” he said, breathing against her face.