Borders: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Aftershock Series Book 3) Read online

  “I’m going to die of thirst!” Davis exclaimed with a loud whisper.

  Both Peck and Damon ignored his outburst. There was nothing they could do for him anyway.

  Peck reached for the doorknob, but Damon grabbed his arm.

  “We can’t go out the main doors. Is the sun up yet?”

  Peck nodded.

  “Then I’m afraid it’ll be too risky right now. They’ll see us before we can take two steps.”

  “It would have been better if you’d come for us when it was still dark,” commented Davis.

  Peck, tired of the governor’s ungrateful attitude, snapped back, “I didn’t have to come at all. You can always go back to your cell and maybe I’ll come back after dark.”

  “That’s not such a bad idea,” suggested Damon.

  “What are you talking about?” asked a puzzled Davis.

  “It will be safer after the sun goes down,” said Damon.

  “I was just being sarcastic,” replied Peck.

  “I know, but it makes sense to wait until dark.”

  “That means we’ll have to wait here all day,” Peck pointed out.

  “No, we can’t stay here,” said Damon. “They’ll probably come to check on us eventually, but there has to be somewhere inside where we can hide, be safe, and out of sight until dark.”

  “I have to have water!” reminded Davis.

  “I can get some water and bring it back,” volunteered Peck, “just as soon as they’re through loading supplies into the wagons.” It was worth the risk if it would shut Davis up.

  They noticed movement in the foyer as a shadow passed by the window. Peck peeked out. Several people were coming from Cell Block C, where some of the Tent City people had taken up residence. The guard Peck had seen patrolling the corridor earlier stepped into view, stopping them. Peck guessed he’d been placed there to keep the residents from entering the lower level while Morgan and his people were there.

  “What’s going on?” whispered Davis.

  “A crowd is starting to gather. It appears they’re being prevented from entering the foyer while the wagons are being loaded. We wouldn’t be able to get out now even if we wanted to.” Peck made sure the door was locked, sat down on the top step, and leaned back against the wall.

  “What are you doing now?” asked Davis impatiently.

  Nothing for now,” Damon answered for Peck. “There’s nothing any of us can do until the foyer is clear again.”

  “You both might want to move over so you can’t be seen from the window,” suggested Peck.

  They looked at each other and slid over to the wall.

  Peck sat up straight and looked at Damon as an idea came to him. “What you said earlier isn’t completely true. Instead of waiting for the foyer to clear out, why don’t we use the crowd for our escape? We just need to wait until the wagons are loaded and Morgan and his people leave. It shouldn’t take long. When the guard lets the people go to the lower level for supplies, we can blend in and use them for cover. It’ll get us a little closer to freedom and we won’t have to wait here all day.”

  Damon nodded. “It’s worth a try. Now, all we can do is watch and wait for our chance. You surprise me, Peck. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  Peck didn’t respond. It would have been easy to say something sarcastic, which was his first instinct, but he held his tongue. There was satisfaction enough in hearing the words.

  The waiting seemed hardest on Davis. He continued to complain about being thirsty and would sit for only brief moments before coming to the small window to peek out. After repeating this several times, both Damon and Peck had grown tired of it.

  “Governor, please sit down and try to relax,” pleaded Damon. “It shouldn’t be that much longer.”

  Davis continued to look out.

  Peck saw a change in Davis’ posture and sat up. “What do you see?”

  “They just started moving toward the lower level!” he announced excitedly. “We can go now!” He reached for the door knob, but was stopped by Damon.

  “Please, Governor, let Peck go first. It’ll be safer.”

  Davis paused, looked at Peck, and then nodded agreement.

  Peck looked through the window. Davis was right, the people from Cell Block C were moving across the foyer toward the lower level. He opened the door. No one seemed to notice as Peck joined the back of the procession. He motioned for Damon and Davis to follow. He’d suggested they keep their faces down toward the floor to hide their true identities. As they neared the steps to the lower level, they veered away from the group, toward the main entrance. Looking outside they could see a large crowd parting to let the loaded wagons through.

  “Perhaps this isn’t the best time after all,” mentioned Damon. “We should stay with the residents and continue to use them for cover. If we go out there now, there’s a very good chance we’d be spotted immediately.”

  Peck nodded agreement and wasted no time in leading them back to rejoin the others as they entered the lower level. As they passed the open freight doors, they could see that a guard was also keeping the crowd assembled outside the fence from entering, apparently also waiting to be let in for supplies. That was both good and bad. The more people there were, the better chance they had of melding in, but the possibility of being identified also became higher with the more people they came in contact with.

  They entered the lower level to see the first group frantically going through boxes, rushing from aisle to aisle, grabbing armfuls of items.

  Davis made an observation, “At the rate they’re grabbing up these supplies, they’ll run out in a few months. Then they’ll wish I was still in charge.”

  Peck and Damon exchanged glances of disbelief.

  This brief time of being denied access to the supplies had evidently rekindled past feelings from being forced to go without and it was causing a panic.

  Damon, Davis, and Peck attempted to be inconspicuous, standing inside the door against the wall, out of the way, watching the frantic scene. They were soon pushed further along the wall by the second onslaught of those from outside the fence. Fights broke out, the perfect distraction. No one was paying any attention to them.

  Roy yelled at those fighting, trying to get them to stop, but couldn’t be heard over the commotion. He ran to find help.

  Davis noticed the mob was taking anything they could fit into their arms, including food and water. Water. He had momentarily forgotten how thirsty he was. His throat immediately felt scratchy and parched. He started to enter the frantic crowd, stopped by Damon.

  “What are you doing?” asked Damon.

  “I need water!” declared Davis hoarsely, again attempting to enter the mob. Damon grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “It’s too dangerous. Peck will get some for you.” He looked at Peck who hesitated, sighed, and nodded as he shoved people aside, entering the mass of bodies.

  ***

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Grayson, Daniel, John, and Ryder were forced to lead the way to where Morgan’s people were waiting, their bodies shielding Morgan and Carla from an attack. The wagons of supplies were already being driven along the south road past the crowd outside the fence.

  Just as the group entered the woods, John looked back to see the guard had evidently turned the crowd loose. They were rushing through the prison gate. He stopped to look. “Something’s wrong. They’re acting like a mob.”

  Carla poked her pistol into John’s back. “Keep moving!”

  Morgan took a different tact of persuasion. “The sooner we can get down the road, the sooner you’ll be released.”

  ***

  Jeremy stopped at the edge of the woods long enough to watch Morgan and his hostages pass by. He ran ahead to find his friends who should be keeping watch over the rest of Morgan’s people. He needed to get there first to warn them that Morgan was on his way back with four hostages. Hopefully he could prevent a potential incident.

  Most of those he’d left ther
e were former guards, but a few were workers and former residents of Tent City with no military, law enforcement, or weapons experience, unfamiliar with facing armed men. Their hearts had been in the right place, willing to help, but they weren’t prepared or equipped for this kind of situation. If one of them accidently fired a shot, it could lead to an all-out battle with terrible consequences for both sides. He needed to get there in time to pull them away to a safe distance where there would be less risk of an incident.

  Jeremy told himself he was probably being naïve, thinking things could return to normal if everyone just let the current events run their course. The obvious problem was that they were counting on Morgan’s word meaning something, when in reality it probably didn’t. He was already stealing from them and could also decide to kill Grayson and the others just for the fun of it. Morgan might see it as a way to send a message and discourage resistance if and when they came back.

  If things went terribly wrong, Jeremy wondered how Grayson’s death would affect those now swarming over the supply stockpile. Would they be able to survive after the supplies were gone and his support was cut off?

  Not wanting to get shot himself, Jeremy slowed down when he got close to where he’d left the others earlier. He went to his knees and crawled toward the general location. Being extremely cautious, not knowing exactly where they were hiding, he stopped and raised his head slowly. There was no sign of Morgan’s people. He assumed they were still using the trees for cover. He was sure he’d beaten Morgan there. Continuing to crawl, he stopped abruptly when he heard the pump action of a shotgun as a shell was loaded into its chamber.

  Jeremy knew immediately it wasn’t from one of the guards. Like him, they still had their assault rifles, the standard weapon distributed on their induction into the Guard. This was what he’d been afraid of. If he wasn’t careful, he might be the one shot by an itchy trigger finger. “Don’t shoot!” he whispered loudly. “It’s me, Jeremy!”

  There were a couple seconds of silence.

  “Jeremy?”

  “Yeah. Where are you?”

  He heard a rustling in the grasses. Two men appeared out of the tall grass as they crawled toward him. One was a friend and former Guard, Dave. The other man was a stranger carrying a shotgun resting across his forearms in the crooks of his arms.

  “Dave, are Morgan’s people still in the trees?” asked Jeremy.

  “I haven’t seen them come out.”

  “I saw a woman sneak off toward the compound,” said the other man.

  “How many are with you?”

  “I think we’re down to six.” Dave sighed. “What happened with Governor Grayson?”

  “He’s being brought here as a hostage. Unfortunately, Morgan has Daniel, Ryder, and John with him too. I wanted to get here first to warn you and have you move back.”

  “So, what should we do?” asked Dave.

  “Absolutely nothing,” said Jeremy.

  Dave and the other man looked confused.

  “It’s too dangerous with the hostages,” explained Jeremy.

  “And why should we listen to you?” asked the other man.

  “It’s all we can do,” insisted Jeremy, “and we don’t have time to argue about it.”

  “Don’t make waves,” said Dave, backing Jeremy. “Just do what he says.”

  “I was only asking,” the man replied and then fell silent.

  “Pass the word to the others to hold their fire and to move back.” Jeremy raised his head just enough to see Morgan and the others crossing into the tall grass. “Go.” As they disappeared back into the grass, he began to crawl quietly and slowly south, parallel to the tree row, hoping to reach a better position to watch from. The ideal scenario was for Morgan to feel safe enough to release his hostages there at the camp before heading back to wherever they had come from. Jeremy wasn’t optimistic that it would play out that way.

  ***

  The people in the lower level were beginning to thin out. No one had recognized Davis, Damon, or Peck yet or they just hadn’t made an issue of it. Perhaps too pre-occupied with grabbing all they could carry.

  Damon grabbed another bottle of water and pulled Davis to the back of the room where it was less congested. Peck followed, asking, “What are we going to do?” There was no response.

  “Maybe we should wait down here until dark,” stated Peck. “There’s plenty of food and water here.”

  “Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” agreed Damon. “However, it’s a tossup. Darkness could be better for our getaway, but the longer we stay here, the better the chance of being identified and caught again. Ever been down here?” he asked Peck.

  “Never. You?”

  “Once.” He didn’t bother to ask Davis. He knew the answer.

  The further they moved away from the front of the room the fewer people there were. They soon found themselves alone in a hallway.

  “Here,” said Damon as he walked to a door with the words “Maintenance Supervisor” stenciled across it in bold black letters. The door was unlocked. “We can hide in here.” Entering the room, he flipped on the lights. This room had also been equipped with a row of LED lights. Dim, but adequate. During the renovation, the entire facility had been rewired with this type of lighting, tied into the array of solar panels on the roof.

  Davis hesitated to enter as he looked inside. The room was small, the walls lined with metal cabinets, control panels, and one desk. “This isn’t much better than where we were,” he felt necessary to point out.

  “Except that we’re not confined to cells, we can leave when we’re ready, we have access to food and water, and they don’t know where we are,” said Peck.

  Davis stepped inside. “How about some food then? I’m starving,” he complained.

  Damon looked at Peck. “Think you can round something up?”

  Peck nodded. “Sure. Why not? I could use something myself.” He peeked out the door before leaving, closing it behind him.

  Damon locked the door with Davis and himself inside.

  “Why did you do that?” asked Davis.

  “You don’t want any uninvited visitors, do you?”

  “How long do we have to stay in here?” asked Davis.

  “Until dark.” He paused. “You might as well get comfortable. It’s going to be a while.”

  “How will we know when it gets dark from in here?” asked Davis.

  “I’ll send Peck out.”

  Davis’ eyes scanned the room, bored and unimpressed. He wiped off the supervisor’s chair and sat down. One of the panels caught his attention. He stood and walked over to it.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Damon, seeing the puzzled look on Davis’ face.

  “I’m not sure.” He ran his hand over the panel and along the side. There was a gap, large enough to fit his fingers into. Grabbing the edge with both hands, he pulled. The panel swung open. Damon quickly came to his side. They both looked with shock at the dark tunnel ahead of them. It was a corrugated metal tube about four feet in diameter.

  “Did you know anything about this?” asked Damon.

  “Of course not. Where do you think it goes?”

  Someone tried the door and then lightly knocked. “Hey, let me in!” whispered Peck.

  Damon opened the door and Peck stepped inside carrying an armload of various canned goods and more water. He stopped when he saw the open panel and the tunnel. “What is that?”

  “I guess you didn’t know anything about this either?” asked Damon, closing and re-locking the door.

  “Not a clue. Where does it go?”

  “That seems to be the $64,000 question.”

  “Think it could be another way out?” asked Peck.

  Davis perked up at the suggestion.

  “More likely a way to another part of the prison,” commented Damon.

  “Why do you say that?” asked Davis.

  Damon couldn’t believe he was going to have to explain the obvious. “Just by its direction alon
e, the passage leads to the interior of the prison.”

  “What do you think it was used for?” asked Davis.

  “I can only guess. Perhaps when the prison was built it was installed to be used in case of an emergency situation such as a riot, a way for help to get in or a way for the warden and his staff to escape.”

  “Do you think this is how Ryder and his brother were rescued?” Peck speculated.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” answered Damon. “That’s probably when it was left partially opened.”

  “How would anyone know it was here?” asked Davis. “I didn’t even know anything about it.”

  “Maybe you could ask Gant next time you see him,” replied Damon.

  Davis ignored the remark. “Don’t you think where there is one of these, there might be more? One that might actually lead outside?”

  “Possible, but I wouldn’t know where to look and we don’t have the time to go searching blindly,” said Damon. “Once we have a chance to get out of here, I plan on taking it and I don’t plan on coming back.”

  “Aren’t you just a little bit curious where this one goes?” asked Peck as he handed Davis a small can of beanie weenies with a pull-off top. Davis looked at it and back at him as though he was insulted, but said nothing, grabbing the can and plopping back down in the chair. Jerking the top off, he tipped it up and poured whatever would come out into his mouth, then used the lid as a spoon to dig out the rest. Damon and Peck were speechless as they watched Davis devour the can’s contents in a matter of seconds. They looked at each other and smiled. He really was hungry.

  “Help yourself,” invited Damon as he motioned to the tunnel, stepping out of Peck’s way.