William Weber - System Failure

Soon, they reached the southbound platform. Holly repeated the process, stepping carefully past and in some cases over people. The sight of a boy around Dillon’s age with his arm in a sling caught her eye. He was speaking to a woman Holly assumed was his mother. He was complaining about being hungry. Holly remembered that in one of her pockets was a piece of the salami she’d taken from the airport lost and found. She removed it and sat down next to them. Dillon did the same. Undoing a pocketknife, she sliced off a small chunk and handed it to the boy. He stared at it and then up at his mother.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Holly said. “I happened to overhear you and your son talking―”

“He’s my nephew,” the woman said. She was pretty with shoulder-length blonde hair. Even seated, it was obvious she was tall for a woman. “He’s still getting used to eating one meal a day.” She took the piece and gave it to him. “What do you say, Hunter?”

The young boy with the fiery red hair popped it into his mouth, working it joyfully.

“How about you?” Holly asked, offering her a piece as well. “I’m Holly, by the way.”

“Amy,” the woman said, taking the piece and thanking her.

Another young boy and a woman arrived. The boy sat down next to Dillon. “Hey, I’m Emmitt.”

Dillon kept looking straight ahead. “Hi.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Dillon’s a little shy,” Holly said.

“You like computer games?” Emmitt asked.

Dillon nodded vigorously.

“Me too. I managed to get my phone charged up.” Emmitt pulled out his phone and fired up a driving game. “See, you have to drive through the hoops to get points.”

Dillon moved closer, watching attentively. A moment later, Emmitt’s digital car spun out and crashed.

“It was the last thing I downloaded before we lost power,” he explained, handing it over to Dillon. “Wanna give it a try?”

Dillon took the phone, held it out before him and pressed start. At once, his hands banked left and then right as he maneuvered the car along an imaginary track, collecting tokens and sending the leaping vehicle through one ring after another.

“Hey, you’re pretty good,” Emmitt said, a tinge of excitement in his voice.

But Dillon was only just getting started. Soon he hadn’t only broken Emmitt’s high score, he’d beaten the highest score on record.

“Holy crap,” Emmitt shouted.

“Emmitt,” Lauren snapped. “Don’t you dare curse.”

“But Mom, he thrashed the game.” The red-headed boy turned back to Dillon. “Have you ever played before?”

Dillon shook his head. “No.”

Holly thought it was a good time to explain her son’s condition and his marked abilities in certain, narrow fields. Namely computer games and mathematics.

“What a shame,” Lauren said. “He might have been a programmer if most of our technology hadn’t gone bust.”

Holly noticed the bandage on Amy’s forearm and asked her about it.

“Our evacuation bus hit a parked car hidden in a snow pile and flipped.” She rubbed at her swollen belly. “Thought for sure I was going to lose the baby, but miraculously she was okay. There’s a nurse with the Red Cross who’s looked me over twice and said that everything was fine. If our pioneering ancestors could cross the country and give birth in a world without electricity, I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”

“Good point. When are you expecting?” Holly asked, genuinely interested.

“By the looks of things, another week or so. How much easier things would be if we were back home.”

“Where’s that?”

“Byron,” Amy said, her voice laced with nostalgia.

“I was friends with a Nate once who lived in Byron,” Holly fibbed. “His last name was Bauer.”

Amy’s head did a little dance. She ran a hand through her hair, her mouth slightly ajar. “Nate Bauer’s my husband.”

“No way!” Holly cried, bellowing out a laugh. Amy joined her. Soon tears of laughter were streaming down both their cheeks.

“Aunt Amy, you’re crying,” Emmitt said.

“What are the chances?” Amy exclaimed, dabbing at her eyes to protect the mascara that had faded away days ago.

“Astronomical,” Holly said, unable to stop grinning. “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

And for the first time, Holly began to worry about what might be in that letter she’d been asked to deliver. Somehow, her mind kept coming back to Johnny’s silly comment about evening a score or getting payback for some old, bygone grievance. Her mother had left Holly with the impression that a debt was owed and that she―Holly―had been tasked with following up on the repayment. But it had never been completely clear whether Holly was meant to repay a debt or collect one.

In the brief time they’d known each other, Holly had come to realize what wonderful and kind people the Bauers were. What a shame it would be to ruin this new friendship with the settling of a petty disagreement, one between two sets of parents now both deceased.

Go back, remove the letter from your suitcase and burn it.

Holly was floating on a knife’s edge when another figure approached, standing over them. Looking up, Holly saw it was a young girl with dark, knotted hair. She waved. “Amy?”

Amy nodded, suddenly worried, maybe even afraid. “Yes, can I help you?”

“My name’s Dakota. Your husband Nate sent me.”

His heart brimming with doubt and despair, Nate headed back to the truck. A block and a half from here, he had found the perfect spot nestled between two snow drifts. By shoveling snow onto the bed cover and roof, he had hoped the deception would fool any passerby that the Beast was just another wreck, claimed by the ravages of winter.

A frigid wind howled between the towers of glass and steel looming above him. Otherwise, the city’s inner core―or the Loop, as it was affectionately known―was mostly quiet. One might even say peaceful, save for the occasional rattle of gunfire in the distance.

During one of his passes through this part of town, his truck had cut a path through the deep snow. Between the sounds of faraway gun battles, Nate caught feet padding down the street toward him. He turned in time to see Shadow, who skidded to a stop and licked his lips. Unlike the family dog, Shadow’s tail never wagged, but there was something in his eyes that let you know he was happy to see you.

“Hey, buddy, how the heck did you get out of the truck?” Nate asked the animal. He’d left him to watch over the vehicle.

Arriving a moment later, Nate quickly got his answer. The dice he’d rolled on camouflaging the Beast had come up snake eyes. The driver’s side window had been smashed and the door stood ajar. Lying parallel to the vandalized truck was the body of a man in full snow gear. Nate’s pistol was out at once as he scanned the area for any other threats.

The guy wasn’t wearing any gloves or scarf, which gave Nate a perfect view of the man’s throat and face, both of which looked like hamburger meat.

“Was this you?” Nate asked the wolf, who only stared back at him. It was a silly question, of course. Clearly this gangbanger had come upon what he’d assumed was easy pickings. After breaking the window, he’d probably even slid into the driver’s seat, only to see a set of vicious eyes staring at him from the back seat.

A quick search of the man’s body revealed he had nothing of value. Nate brushed the shards of tempered glass from the seat, then moved aside, allowing Shadow to jump in.

Seconds later, they were off. Clearly this wasn’t going to be a safe place to kill time before Dakota’s plan could unfold. Thinking fast, Nate quickly deduced that Grant Park, less than half a mile from here, offered a good backup location where he could lie low. A sprawling urban landscape of over three hundred acres, Grant Park was also crisscrossed with a network of roads, which meant Nate could avoid the immediate danger of the downtown core without needing to leave the Beast behind. Popping the glove compartment, he found a pair of heavy-duty garbage bags and a roll of duct tape. It wouldn’t be pretty, but once he stopped, he would need to cover the window to block the frigid wind.