Ramez Naam - Apex

Melanie would make a great doctor, though. Barb was proud of her daughter, liberal and a little naïve or no.

The spiral widened out. A one block radius. A two block radius. Madison was dead quiet right now, everyone huddled together, neighbors whose homes had been damaged taking shelter with those whose homes were still solid. The streets were empty. The lights were out. No one in any of these homes was any sort of suspicious character.

Three blocks. Coming up on the episcopal church.

And what was that? A truck behind the church? Its empty cab was pointed to her, but she could see that it was fairly substantial behind that. Her windshield gave it subtle red overtones, not the red info-box that would indicate a criminal record, but signs of heat, leaking from the rear. The inside of that vehicle was warm.

Barb frowned. Relief work? Had they been distributing supplies from this church? She tried to remember, but she didn’t think she’d seen it on the list.

Looters? Was that possible? In Madison, of all places?

“Vehicle registration,” Barb said, pointing with her eyes at the truck half a block ahead.

Her squad car replied immediately. “That vehicle is registered to Carlton Farms, Charlottesville Virginia.”

Barb looked down as more information scrolled across the screen. Carlton Farms was an organic farm, less than an hour west of here. The truck was registered to the business. No infractions in the last three years. Title up to date. All from the squad car’s cache. But the odds it had changed in the last two hours were remote.

Barb relaxed. Maybe a donation of supplies from the farm for locals who’d been affected? Charlottesville hadn’t been hit nearly as hard.

Even so. Best to be sure.

“Command, car 148. Stopping at St Mark’s Episcopal. See what looks like relief work. Going to check on safety of all involved.”

“Roger, car 148,” came the reply.

Barb pulled her patrol glasses on. There was the same warning in the lower right – CONNECTION FAILED – WORKING OFFLINE. She popped the radio earpiece in her ear, made sure that was live. It was. Then she let herself out of the squad car, and walked towards the moving-van-sized vegetable truck. The glasses painted their own IR imagery on the scene. The vehicle’s drivetrain was hot. The empty cab was warm. And as she came around, she saw that there was heat leaking from the large contained back.

Shouldn’t they want the area where the food went kept cool?

She was looking at the truck, this thought dawning on her, when the small side door of the church opened, and a man she’d never seen before popped out.

Barb turned in time to see the look of surprise cross the man’s face, before he ducked back inside, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Truck’s here,” Levi said. “Time to go!”

Rangan nodded, grinned, putting the most sincere excitement he could behind it.

Here we go! he sent to the boys.

They were still dubious, but they went along with it.

Abigail and the women named Janet and Laura herded the boys up the steep stairs and through the hatch in the floor. Janet and Laura would be coming on the first part of the journey, it seemed. Levi waited downstairs with Rangan. Then the driver, a man named Juan, came down too, and together they helped Rangan slowly ascend the stairs, one foot at a time, until he was at the top.

Painful, definitely painful. But so much better than two days ago.

“OK,” Juan said, when they were all gathered upstairs, in the anteroom by the side entrance to the little church. “I’ll go unlock the back of the truck. Then we all go out, and hop right in. There’s mattresses in the back to sit on, and some candy bars, and I’ve got it all warmed up for you boys. Just remember, you have to be quiet the whole trip, OK? Just a couple hours the first leg. Everybody’s used the bathroom already? Nobody has to go?”

The boys all nodded dutifully, looking at Rangan.

I’m still here , he sent. I’m with you this whole part.

Rangan gave a thumbs up. “We’re good to go, man.”

Juan nodded, then turned and opened the door to step out.

Everything happened in a blur. The door opening. Juan jumping back in with a yelp, trying to push the door closed, then the door exploding out of his hands, slamming into his face, and the cop following him in, the drawn pistol in her hand, yelling.

“Shit!” Barb yelled, jumping after the man, her hand going for her gun. The door was closing. She kicked out in reflex, shoved it forward before the perp could get it to lock, and then she was inside the church and her vision was flashing red and holy fuck!

THREAT ALERT THREAT ALERT THREAT ALERT THREAT ALERT

RANGAN SHANKARI

APPROACH WITH CAUTION

ARMED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS

DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED

The man’s face was lit up. A red box around him. Targeting circles around his torso. The fucking terrorist who’d tried to kill Owen. Her whole world constricted to him and her heart was pounding like a motherfucker and she had this asshole to rights and oh my god he was fucking armed he’d taken out two cops already oh fuck oh fuck.

“HANDS IN THE AIR!” she yelled at him, her pistol in both hands.

Green halos were up around other figures. Levi. Abigail. Pregnant Abigail. And a room full of kids and women! Jesus the bastard had taken hostages.

Shankari was raising his hands, slowly, so fucking slowly.

ARMED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS flashed at her over and over again in red.

DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED flashed right below it.

On her right was the other perp, bleeding from his face. Two of them. Barb maneuvered to her left, where she could cover them both.

ARMED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS

DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED

Holy fucking shit.

“OVER BY SHANKARI, ASSHOLE! Levi, Abigail, get the kids out through the door!”

“Barb,” someone said.

The bleeding guy was looking up at her like he didn’t understand. Fuck there were two of them. She needed backup. She needed backup now .

ARMED EXTREMELY DANEROUS.

“Command!” Barb said aloud.

DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED.

“BARB!” It was Abigail.

“Go ahead, 148,” came the voice in her earpiece.

“BARB!” Abigail stepped straight in front of Barb.

She pressed her chest up against the barrel of Barb’s pistol.

Barb tried to move. What the hell was Abigail doing? And Abigail just moved with her, keeping her chest right in the line of fire. And then Barb saw her face. The minister’s wife had a finger to her lips, the universal sign of “shush”. She was shaking her head.

The room changed. These weren’t Shankari’s hostages. These were his… his… accomplices? And these kids. Barb looked around. They weren’t running out of the room. They were cowering. They were afraid. They were cowering away from her . And towards Shankari . Over Abigail’s shoulder Barb could see one of the kids had his arms wrapped around the red haloed terrorist, even as Shankari had his arms pointed at the sky.

ARMED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS continued to blink over Shankari.

It was surreal.

DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED just above the head of the boy who had his arms wrapped around Shankari.

She was here and somewhere else. This was all so far away.

“No. Oh no.”

“Unit 148, please repeat.”

Barb’s mouth hung open. No no no.

“148,” Dispatch’s voice was sharper this time. “What’s your status?”

Barb looked into Abigail’s eyes. The woman pulled her finger away from her lips, and mouthed a single word at her. “Please.”

Barb took a deep breath.

“Status nominal, command. False alarm. Please disregard. 148 out.”