The War of Pawns (The Human Chronicles -- Book Three) (23 page)

And then he saw it. It was sticking out of a pile of broken wood, roofing material and other mangled cars on the left side of the street. It was the front end of a Dodge minivan, once white in color and with a distinctive blue accent border along the left quarter panel.

Adam’s heart skipped a beat, and he felt himself go cold. He threw open the door to the van and sprinted down the street, skirting burning piles of ruble and debris as he went.

Sherri and Riyad jumped from the van and took off after him. All around them fires raged, and the embers filled the air as a west-to-east evening breeze was beginning to stir. Their eyes burned from the smoke, but neither Riyad nor Sherri noticed. All they could see was Adam as he bounded up a twisted and smoldering Pontiac Firebird and approached the front end of a minivan buried in the ruble, sitting at a 45-degree angle in the pile.

Adam reached the vehicle and looked inside through the shattered front passenger window. Then he recoiled, and fell back onto the hot and smoky debris.

Riyad and Sherri arrived seconds later; Sherri went to Adam, while Riyad looked though the window of the minivan.

Inside were the charred remains of two bodies, one a female, the other a child. The bodies were still smoldering, and the blackened skeletal heads displayed the perpetual form of screams, as their lower jaws had separated from the main structure of the skull. It was a horrific scene, and Riyad fought back the urge to vomit.

He turned to see Sherri with her arm around Adam. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw set and his eyes wide and red with anger. He was shaking his head and cursing loudly, hate substituted for tears. Riyad slipped in next to them and rested his hand on Adam’s shoulder. There was nothing to say, so the three of them sat atop the ten-meter-high pile of what had once been people’s homes and possessions, and let the embers and smoke flow around them.

Chapter Thirty-Two

It seemed like an hour had passed before Adam was able to gain his composure enough to even look the two of them in the eye. Maria and Cassie had not made it out, and the Juireans had killed them. After all the effort, all the hoping and all the dreaming, Adam had indeed returned to Earth just in time to see his wife and child murdered as part of some obscene game played between two races of inhuman creatures. The Klin were simply using the Human race as pawns, to be sacrificed as they saw fit. And the Juireans, in their primal fear of the Klin and their own insecurity, were more than willing to exterminate an entire race of intelligent beings before they could even determine if they were a real threat or not.

And Maria and Cassie were just two more innocent people who had paid the ultimate price, simply for living on the planet Earth.

Adam wiped away the few stubborn tears that had managed to escape his eyes, and set his jaw. His bottom lip was trembling, and he felt the anger swell up inside him. The aliens had killed his family, and he swore that they would pay for this – all of them would pay. Riyad had been right. Adam did not like to lose, and having his family taken from him was the greatest loss of all.

But the game wasn’t over, at least not for Adam Cain. He would find a way to exact his revenge. He had nothing left to live for now, all except for the payback that was coming. He didn’t know how or when he would do it, but he certainly knew
why
. Adam Cain would make them all suffer for what they had done to his innocent wife and child. He would make them all pay.

Chapter Thirty-Three

The early evening sky was still bright, lit by the myriad of fires that burned throughout the area. Around 6:30, just as the three of them were rising from the pile of ruble that had once been Northwood Drive, they saw the first fiery trails of a second wave of bolts descending from above. None of them attempted to run for cover; what good would it have done anyway? Instead, they stood watching the reverse fireworks, as a few more survivors stood in the street, also looking skyward, all in a daze.

Just then, a pair of bright headlights lit up what had once been Adam’s street, and a sand-colored camouflage Humvee crawled over the debris and came to a stop just below the pile of ruble. A door opened, and out stepped Lt. Andy Tobias.

“I was told I might find you here,” he said, looking around at the scene of utter devastation. And then he noticed the look on Adam’s face, a look of pure animal anger. Tobias’s jaw dropped open.

“She didn’t get away,” he said, more to Sherri and Riyad than to Adam.

Sherri shook her head.

“Adam, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I
did
call, but I had to leave a message.”

“It’s okay, sir. It’s not your fault. They were trying to get away,” were the first non-swear words Adam had spoken since he’d seen his dead wife and child. “I suppose you’re here to take us back…so we can be blamed for all this.”

“No, sir. We have other plans for the three of you. Get in.”

Gill ‘Peanut’ Norris was in the driver’s seat of the Humvee, and he simply nodded to his former Teammate as Adam climbed in the back. Adam tried to shake off the hurt and get his mind back in the game. He had seen a lot of death in his time, but this was different. Still he had to cope.

“What’s going on, LT?” he managed to ask.

“You’ll see.”

The Humvee made it back onto Rosemont Road and then headed up the street until they came to a corner shopping center anchored by a Food Lion grocery store. There were dozens of people in the parking lot, many of them looting the various stores and eateries. The center still had power, and in the bright lights of the store, Adam watched as a man in a blue apron leveled a long-barrel hunting rifle at a couple of kids running out of his store with armfuls of merchandise. The man opened fire, striking one of the kids in the back, while the other one dropped his loot and ducked behind a car.

Just then, a black teenager stepped up behind the shop owner and placed a .38 to the back of his head, and pulled the trigger. The man collapsed where he stood. Then the kid, along with a group of about 10 other youths, entered the store.

“Why don’t you do something?” Sherri called out from the backseat.

“We have a different mission, Ms. Valentine.”

Indeed, parked at the end of the lot, near the intersection of Rosemont and South Plaza Trail, were three large military trucks, along with two additional Humvees. A dozen Navy SEALs in full combat gear stood around the trucks, M4A1 assault rifles cradled against their chests. They stood stoically watching the scene of looting and murder, with only looks of grim determination on their faces. Even though the parking lot was full of chaos, the looters knew better than to approach the military convoy. Internally, each of the SEALs wished they would try.

As the Lieutenant’s Humvee pulled up, Senior Chief Geoffrey Rutledge stepped forward. “We can’t stay here much longer. Shit’s coming down the darker it gets. By the way, welcome back, Cain.”

“Understood,” Tobias said. “Saddle up.”

Adam stepped up next to his platoon leader. “Where we going, and what’s all this?” he asked, indicating the convoy of trucks.

For an answer, Tobias stepped to the rear of one of the trucks and separated the back canvas flap. Adam’s jaw dropped, as he saw that the entire truck was filled with weapon and ammunition crates. He could see the stenciled black writing of SMAW MK153 Mod grenade launchers, 5.56- and 7.62-caliber ammunition boxes, M4 and M16 rifle cases, and so much more. The back of the truck was stacked all the way to the top of the canvas cover with an incredible amount of firepower.

“The other truck has the same.”

“What’s in the first truck?” Adam managed to ask.

For an answer, Tobias stepped up and pulled back the canvas. Inside were the 15 survivors from Adam’s prison building, all looking weary, bloodied and bruised. Billy Piscopo was seated at the end, next to Chris Mullis.

Sherri stepped forward. “Billy, what are you doing here?”

“Tobias came back to the base looking for you. I told him Adam had gone looking for his wife. Then they loaded us all into this truck.”

“Where are you taking us?” Sherri asked, a fierce determination in her voice.

“Someplace away from all this shit. But we don’t have much time. We have to dodge these fire balls on the way. And besides, we can’t hang around here and risk taking a stray bullet hit on one of these trucks. Get back to the Humvee.”

The military caravan set off north on Rosemont. The going was slower now, as cars crowded the roads with more and more people trying to leave the city. Not paying attention to any traffic rules, the caravan crowded onto sidewalks and medians until they came to I-264. They entered the freeway and headed west. From the elevated highway, they could see hundreds of fires burning out of control, as well as the last few trails of fire balls as they struck closer to Norfolk Naval Base and the population centers of Portsmouth and Chesapeake.

And then came the next lull in the bombardment.

The caravan transitioned from 264 onto I-64 north, heading toward Hampton, Virginia. The road was packed, but the large trucks managed to muscle their way through the traffic, which began to lighten up once they reached the Willoughby Spit and entered the bridge over the section of water called Hampton Roads.

The highway continued until it dipped under the river at the Hampton Roads Tunnel, a section of highway that continued deep under the river for approximately a kilometer. As the road began to dip, Adam could see the looming entrance to the tunnel, still ablaze with light, much to his surprise.

They had no idea if the tunnel was still intact, but looking at the region from space, the aliens would have had no reason to drop a bolt in the middle of a wide river. There would be no indication that a tunnel even existed under the water.

Tobias sent the lead Humvee into the tunnel, and the tiny red taillights soon disappeared from their view. Five minutes later, the radio in Tobias’s hand crackled. “All clear. There are some people hiding out inside, but they shouldn’t get in your way.”

“Roger that,” Tobias relied, and then he nodded to Peanut. The caravan proceeded into the tunnel.

Once through, it was a quick and nearly traffic-free drive into Hampton. The convoy exited the freeway at Armistead and headed north.