Frank Klus - Azaleas Don't Bloom Here

“So why doesn’t society erupt? Why do they put up with it? Why isn’t there some journalistic investigation? Christ, you don’t even get the conspiracy nuts talking about it. ‘The government uses a brain probe to change your politics’. ‘A secret organization takes over the government.’ I mean something like that; but nothing. That idiot on TV just takes the damn thing, and uses it on kids to make money off it.”

“I know Professor Zinney, too, Eugene. He was my brother’s best friend. I asked him many of those same questions. He told me people erupt all the time. They demonstrate. They once seized the capitol building. The news never covered it. The police did, however. They beat the hell out of them, arrested them, and charged them with terrorism. Many of the leaders are still in prison. How many more people do you think want to copy them?”

Eugene realized that everything Pamela was telling him was true. He was supposed to be the business expert, but he never saw the long-term picture. Pamela, Ray, Cassandra, and the others did. While he mourned over a dead world and a life he could never have again, they were risking their lives to change it. He watched people sacrifice everything he refused to sacrifice, and knew that maybe he needed to do something too, instead of just complaining.

But would I do something? I can’t help it. I want my comfort back. I want to sit in my overstuffed leather recliner, sip my wine, and listen to Bach while Catherine makes dinner. I want her back. I want her to share my jokes about the pundits, and reassure me that everything is fine. I know those days are gone forever. I’ve accepted that. I’m going to New America, but I miss my old life. Oh, this is nonsense. I’m dreaming again. Why do I feel such comfort in a world gone to crap?

Eugene began sobbing. He couldn’t think about Catherine without depression overwhelming him. She glanced over to him. Part of her wanted to pull over and give him a big motherly hug, but she said nothing. She had to find Chad and Sandy.

Pamela’s phone rang. She listened with glowing satisfaction. Eugene looked at her and saw her smile. “That was Foote. Armstrong just called him. They’re safe; just a little ways down the road.”

Ten minutes later they were all at the side of the road by a black Lincoln. Sandy was clearly agitated. “Christ, is this the way it’s going to be all the way to New America? First, the shootout at the motel, and now being kidnapped. I wish sometimes I never found out who I really was because I got to tell you guys, I don’t know if I can take this much longer.”

“I know how you feel, Sandy,” Gene said.

Ray walked up to them. “Okay, Chad, let’s hear the story.”

“They searched me, but missed the knife in my shoe. They didn’t bother to tie our hands together, but the guy in the passenger seat was supposed to keep an eye on us. He was waving his pistol while flirting with Sandy. With just enough distraction, I knew I could make my move.”

“I thought he was going to kill me. I just kept seeing the barrel of that gun aimed at my head. Then Chad grabbed the steering wheel and held a knife to the driver’s throat.”

“What did the guy with the gun do?” Eugene asked.

“I threatened to kill us all if he shot Sandy,” Chad said. “Just slit the driver’s throat and drive us off the road. I sized these guys up as amateurs. I knew the guy with the gun wouldn’t shoot. He looked like he never held a gun in his life. I made him hand over the gun to Sandy, then had them pull over right here.”

“What made you go with them in the first place?” Ray asked.

“This guy came to my car asking for help with their car. When I got there Sandy was there. They gave her another bullshit story. Look, more to the point. How in hell did these guys know about us? Did anything happen in the parking lot last night?”

Foote and Wrenn just looked at each other. “Yeah,” Foote said. Foote told Armstrong and the others what happened there. “There wasn’t anything we could do, but I should have told you about it.”

“And he didn’t put any tracker on Pamela’s car?” Armstrong said.

“No. I’m positive. What must have happened is that the guy called Colderon anyway.”

“No one would have answered,” Cassandra said.

“Then how do you explain the kidnapping?” Chad asked.

“More guys watching the rest stop,” Cassandra said.

“I’m not buying it. They would have tried to do the same thing as the kid at the motel. This required planning. They were waiting for us. They knew where we were going and when we’d get there.”

“I know what’s going on,” Ray said. They all looked at him. “I should have realized it. Casimir has done it before. He can have someone’s phone number forwarded to headquarters. If the motel guy called Colderon, he may very well have reached my brother.”

“If that’s true,” Armstrong said, “our killing Colderon didn’t do any good at all. Every place we might stop, there will be spies, all looking for a reward.”

“I have an idea,” volunteered Pamela. “I’m supposed to be the expert in navigating us to New America. Now I can finally earn my fee. All we have to do is get to my friend’s house in Idaho.”

“Is that the housekeeper you told me about before?” Eugene asked.

“Exactly! Her name is Jeanne. She was my grandfather’s housekeeper. I gave her some of my inheritance so she’d have a comfortable retirement. She lives in Midmountain, near the Snake River. It’s about five hundred miles from here, but only about two hundred miles or so from the border with New America.”

“That will mean one more fill-up,” Chad said. “What’s there, about three hundred miles from here?”

She checked her maps and found a small town in neutral territory. “All right, we’ll aim for there,” Chad said. “Everyone stick together. Stick to fifty miles an hour and ride the right lane. We have to make the gas last. No stopping at any more motels on the way. Anyone have any questions?”

No one did.

“All right, Pilgrims, saddle up!”

The new pilgrims had been driving for about an hour when suddenly they heard the whistles of the Lightning Squad. They had triangulated Sandy, the last car in the queue. They all pulled over and watched in horror as the squad leader pulled Sandy from her car and forced her onto his bike. Armstrong called over to Pamela. “Are we in Squad territory?”

“No, Chad. This is neutral territory, but the police side with both paramilitary organizations. They won’t stand up to the Squad. The police are known to look the other way when they show up.”

Chad told Pamela and Eugene to get in the car and be prepared to drive out on Armstrong’s command. Eugene hesitated. “You too, Eugene,” he said. Then he turned to Ray, Cassandra, and his two sharpshooters. He said softly to them, “You guys still remember how to triangulate?” They all grinned. “Watch for my signal. Don’t make a move until you see it. Ray and Cassandra—you take lead point. Wrenn and Foote—you take midpoint. On my signal.”

The squad leader knew Armstrong was up to something, but not what. He turned to his pointmen and told them to be on their guard. Then he turned to Armstrong. “Now, where’s Eugene, Armstrong? That’s right. I know your name. I’ll betcha right now you kind of wished you’d killed those two yokels. I strapped a tracker to the ankle of one of those guys. We came and got them as soon as you left. We followed you the whole way.” The squad leader cackled, right along with the other two men.

Armstrong stood about fifty feet away, just in front of the forward pointman. He had a smirk on his face and cocked his head a bit. “Well, it seems that you have an advantage over me. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”