The Prometheus Effect (13 page)

Coffey's heart pounded, he had no reason to fear the military but he was cautious having had the experience of the previous weeks mission and the subsequent accident. Coffey pulled out his gun and flicked the safety off. He was not a fan of weapons but he knew how to use one. He was a fighter pilot and flew F-18's over Iran in the heat of the conflict. His side arm was his only defence in the event of ejection over enemy lines.

As the loud knock on his door came, his heart skipped a beat and he crept into the hallway and waited by the door, hesitant and undecided whether or not to answer.

“
Hello? Anyone home?” Came a holler from one of the soldiers. Coffey remained silent and aloof, he was still unsure whether or not to play it cool and greet the officers.

“
Roger Coffey? Are you there? National Guard. Do you have a minute?”

The voice appeared friendly enough but appearances can be deceptive. Coffey made sure he stood to one side of the front door, his gun raised.

“
Yeah, what do you want?” He called out.

“
Oh, Hi. Can you open the door a minute?” Came the response.

“
No, I'm not opening the door to anyone without good reason. What do you want?” Coffey reiterated his position.

“
It's OK, there's no reason to be afraid. We're doing the rounds. We're trying to get a picture of where everybody is right now. There's been a lot of disorder, a lot of burglary and violence. We're doing all we can to check up on the neighbourhood.”

Coffey breathed deeply, he was unsure.

“
I'm fine, no problems here.” He called out.

“
Well won't you open the door so we can see you're OK?” The soldier asked persuasively.

“
Look, I'm OK. No problems. I'm keeping my nose out of trouble, staying in waiting for news like everybody else. If you really want to help, then pick me up some groceries and then I’ll open up”

There was a long pause, Coffey thought they had gone when another voice appeared.

“
Mr Coffey, we have orders to visibly check everybody out. You may have heard the broadcast, there's a lot of uncertainty about who's who and what's what at the moment. Now if you’re not going to open the door, then that'll look pretty bad on my report. You don't want us to have to come back up here now do you? Cause I’ll tell you something, there are a lot of pretty itchy trigger fingers back there wanting to kick some alien ass if you know what I’m saying. They'll gut you like a fish given half a chance if they think your an alien spy, do you hear what I’m saying?”

Coffey heard what he was saying and understood the sentiment. Nevertheless, if he was already persona-non-grata before this whole affair, it would not take much effort to silence him in the middle of all this lawlessness.

“
I hear you. I tell you what, if you leave your weapons outside and strip down to your underpants, you're welcome to come on inside. If not, then you'll just have to excuse me and go about your business.”

Coffey was steadfast although he knew that this was inciting trouble. The one thing he was convinced of however, was that if they were truly National Guard, then they would turn about face and take their report back to their command for the serious ass kicking to be done by someone above their pay grade.

“
Nah, I'm sorry Mr Coffey, you see we can't do that, so you either open the door or we'll have to break the fucking thing down and make you pretty sorry.”

Coffey did not need any encouragement to take a deep breath and move back into a position which offered some cover. The crash of his wooden door splintering was expected as Coffey dived behind a grand wooden furniture piece which adorned his hallway.

“
I'm armed, don't force me to shoot!” Coffey screamed as the soldiers shuffled through the battered doorway, their guns readied. Their march forward did not relent, Coffey was in no position to accept his demise in such a submissive fashion and he pointed the Glock square at the lead soldiers chest who had yet to spot the concealed pilot. The Glock spat out its lethal load which buried itself deep into the chest of the lead soldier who carried the assault rifle and he fell straight down as if his brain had suddenly switched off. Seeing the instant fate of his companion, the other soldier gasped a desperate breath as he realised that Coffey’s aim was true and his intentions lethal.

“
Don't make me do it!” Coffey yelled as the second soldier froze in his tracks momentarily but then foolishly forced Coffey’s hand by swinging his pistol over to point in the astronauts direction. Coffey did not hesitate and he let go another vicious round of hot lead which penetrated the soldiers shoulder, forcing his body back and to the left, spinning him around and slumping him to the ground. Coffey raced out from his cover and kicked the pistol away from the soldier who squealed as he writhed around on the floor. Coffey engaged the safety on his weapon and stuffed it into his jeans waistband and swiftly picked up the first soldiers assault rifle.

“
Jesus.” He muttered as he saw what he had done, knowing the implications of his actions. He kicked over the second soldier who gasped like a fish out of water as blood filled his lungs, his intention to find out why they had been sent to his home.

“
If you tell me why you're here, I’ll let you live.” Coffey said calmly as his pulse could almost be heard in his voice. The soldiers face contorted and his body convulsed. Even if he was willing to speak, it was apparent that he could not. Coffey grimaced as he realised that he was witnessing this man's imminent death. There was nothing he could do to comfort the soldier except put another bullet in him but that was not who Coffey was, he could only watch with regret as the soldier wheezed his last breaths looking into the eyes of the man who had killed him.

Coffey wasted no time in acting, he had no time for delay, he did not know how long it would be before the soldiers were noted missing nor whether their superiors knew their mission or their destination. Searching their pockets, he found their ID amongst other things including their wallets. The soldiers were not National Guard as Coffey expected, but Marines. Their entry was sloppy, perhaps they had not expected Coffey to be so brutally adept with his weapon. Both soldiers carried personal radios and with further inspection, all channels appeared to be characteristically noisy with static much like the domestic radio station frequencies.

Driving the Jeep into his drive and parking it in his garage for the moment seemed a good idea. Hauling the soldiers bodies through the house and into the large spacious garage was psychologically difficult. Coffey felt like a murderer intending to hide his victims, later to bury in some shallow grave. He had no plan, no grand idea in order to get him out of this horrendous mess. What he did have now however was a means of transport and a disguise which might get him out of the city as long as he could avoid close contact with other units. He wanted his dog, he wanted to know that Jill was alright, he feared for his brother who lived in Los Angeles but most of all, he wanted to know why he was a target and how it all related to the crazy events of the past week.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It had been four or five days since Roger Coffey has sat up late with Jill Niemechek in her home, reminiscing. Four or five days since the sky was still a comforting blue colour, four or five days since life was in any way normal. Roger drove nervously, his slender frame snugly fitting his new uniform, his right arm instinctively covering the large, crisp blood stain when not changing gear. The open topped Jeep was noisy, the air was cool and despite the darkened skies, Coffey wore a set of aviators sunglasses to keep the dust out of his eyes. The roads were desolate as expected. Every once in a while, he would see an army vehicle or the odd unmarked sedan which he assumed to be a government or police vehicle of some kind. His driving was tentative, he lost count how many times he had pulled over to avoid close contact with any of the sightings.

Roger knew that he was taking a big risk in driving into Orlando to see Jill. If he had any sense, he would have headed out of the city and into a solitary sanctuary to take stock of the situation, into the Everglades, somewhere where no one could possibly find him. Roger knew however, that if he was indeed a marked target, then it stood to reason that anyone close to him might also be in danger. For all he knew, he might have been under surveillance since the day he returned to Earth and in that case, Jill could be in real peril.

Now, despite the raised status of his threat to the establishment, if anything Coffey felt more at ease driving across the city. Unless he was being tracked electronically or by satellite, it would be easy to spot anyone who felt the desire to trace his movements. As he passed by the eerily quiet suburbs, he could see drapes being pulled back and hungry eyes peering out of windows from every house. He suddenly felt in a very privileged position. He had the freedom of movement. If he desired, he could go and find food and the comfort of a cold beer.

The Jeep cautiously pulled up to Jill's house. The large and splendid home was one of a number of well appointed dwellings on the street. Again, it was quiet. No vehicles, no kids playing on the front lawns of their houses, not even a bark of some agitated mutt. Coffey did not want to hang around. He rolled the Jeep to a standstill, and hopped out. Walking up to the splendid white fascia, he could feel the neighbours eyes on his back as he rapped on the tall wooden door in the anticipation of hearing movement from within. A short time passed and Roger stood impatiently tapping his heel. He did not like the fact that there was no sign of life from within. A second, louder knock also went unanswered. Walking around the side of the house, Roger peered in through one of the windows, the drapes had been left open and he could see the kitchen and dining area. There was something odd about the scene. There were a number of dinner plates upon the table, neither full or empty. Knives and forks were splayed apart, resting on the side of the plates. The scene filled Roger with trepidation as it would appear that the occupants last meal time was seemingly interrupted and never completed. This was evidence enough; Coffey knew he had to get inside to discover what had become of his friend and her children.

At first, Roger scouted the rear of the property for an open window. The expensive double glazed windows were of the particularly secure variety and he quickly gave up on the notion of crawling through one of them. He eventually cursed his own sense of adventure when on trying the rear door handle, it moved freely and he realised that the entrance was unlocked all along. Roger crept inside with his gun in hand. Although it appeared that no one was inside, he did not take the chance that his first instincts were correct. If they knew he had escaped the planned capture, it was common sense to determine that this building would be a possible destination. If they did know he had slain the soldiers, they would not be so careless next time an opportunity came along.

Coffey hurriedly roamed the halls of the expansive property. It was if the occupants had just upped and left. Coats were left hanging in the hallway despite the chilly breeze and Roger began to get an overwhelming sense of foreboding. He had hoped that Jill had left hurriedly to go to somewhere safe but it all seemed to far-fetched. Wherever his friend and ex-lover had gone, he could only hope that she was being treated with respect and not with the same ruthlessness that they had shown her late husband.

Roger stood in the living room and looked at the large family portrait which proudly adorned the mantelpiece. It was a photograph of the perfect family. Rich, beautiful and intelligent. The quivering astronaut shook with anger as it seemed more and more likely that they had met a foul end. The children’s bright white toothed smiles were difficult to look at under the circumstances. They looked so innocent and oblivious to their fate. Coffey there and then swore he would find out who was behind all of this. If that were to ever happen, no justice system in place would be sufficient to apply the appropriate retribution. He vowed to not give the perpetrators a chance of testing its mettle. He alone would ensure that that ultimate justice would be served.

Without wasting time, Roger raced around the house gathering clothes, food and other useful materials and shoved them in a number of holdalls he found in the wardrobe of the master bedroom. He could not escape the lure of looking upon the marital bed and imagining his great friend and confidant and his wife, his very own teenage sweetheart making love upon its maroon, satin sheets. The emotions ran high in his mind, there was anger, confusion and regret. Most of all there was a desire for a resolution. Coffey was not a passenger, he was a man of action. Without any particular plan in mind, he made sure that he took anything that might become valuable to him in the future. A sleek Apple laptop was one of the many items thrust into the depths of a large bag with some urgency. A handful of his old friends clothes were next, including a dark suit and some highly polished shoes. With zipper's at bursting point, he hauled the giant bags outside and threw them into the back of the Jeep. Taking one last glance back to the house, he knew that this was probably the last time he would ever return here. Roger climbed into the vehicle and turned the engine over whilst scanning the neighbourhood for signs of movement. A prying neighbour traced his actions through the most conspicuous of binoculars whose lenses reflected the light into Coffey’s eyes. It was too late for him to avoid detection, yanking the gear stick, he screeched the Jeeps tyres as he pulled off sharply and rounded the long curve of the cul de sac.