Kingdom of Monsters by John Schneider (latest novels to read .TXT) 📕

Sally knew General Rhodes wanted to mark the occasion, but was unsure how.  Somber, honor the dead?  Hope for the future?  When Rhodes had called her in, she assumed it was to ask her opinion.  He did about most things.

She wasn't sure why – she was non-military, and had only become his personal assistant by virtue of the near-extinction of the species.

Rhodes also seemed to deliberately speak out around Sally, almost as if testing her, perhaps setting leak-traps.  It made sense – he needed someone in her position that he could trust.  He was the highest remaining representative of her old Uncle Sam, despite rumors that the president was still alive and sequestered somewhere.

But that was different than soliciting her input.  And didn't explain why he had chosen her.

Possibly it was because, in the old world, she had been a real person.  Maybe that kept him grounded.

He had told her once, in order to do his job, he had to think in terms of numbers, but he never wanted to feel in terms of numbers.

Especially now that Def-con 5-level survival strategies were in place.

They had been at the Mount for over a month now – they called it the 'Arc Project' – ten miles of tunnel deep into the Colorado Rockies, named for obvious reasons, with human-survival as its stated mission, and repopulation a primary agenda item.

Currently, the facility housed exactly two-hundred soldiers living onsite.  There were also three hundred civilian refugees, although that number was expected to grow – almost all women of breeding age.

Def-con 5, remember.

Sally knew Rhodes had to think that way.  But it didn't change the reality of it.  And honoring KT-day in any way was going to be a tough sell.  There was already a rumble of dissention among the largely feminine civilian ranks.  No doubt Rhodes would want her thoughts on that as well.

It seemed, however, that larger problems had come up.

When Sally stepped into his office, Rhodes was on his speakerphone – standing, which meant something requiring action.  Sally had seen him like this before, barking orders into his phone, pacing back and forth in his office as if he were right in front of the troops, ready to act on his own orders.

Sally paused at the door.

“I need to know where it went down, Hicks,” Rhodes was saying, and his voice had that calm, almost dangerous tone that it did in battle-conditions.

Hicks' voice buzzed back through static.

“We've got choppers out, sir, but it's a big area.”

“We have an extreme VIP on board that transport, you understand?”

“I understand, sir.  We have all available resources on it.”

“Let me know the second you hear anything.”

“Well, sir,” Hicks said unhappily, “I have got word we've got a possible bloom sprouting.”

Rhodes shut his eyes.  “Give it to me.”

“So far, it's just a bud, sir,” Hicks said.  “Just a single sighting.  It can probably still be contained within a burn.  But it's within the search range, sir.  And it's all a crow's fly of the Mount.”

“You know the drill, son,” Rhodes said.  “Nukes on blooms.  Napalm on buds.  Get confirmation on what we've got first.”

“I've got Johnson in the area, sir,” Hicks said.

Rhodes turned to Sally.

“How many active nukes have we got on hand?”

“Um, fourteen, sir,” Sally said, flipping her clipboard.  “Major Travis has two F-16-capable missiles at our West Coast site – two more non-operational.  Captain Mason has reported a dozen long-range capable missiles aboard his sub.  We have no way to confirm, but he reports them all fully functional.”

“What about Maelstrom?”

“Last communication with the Maelstrom base said they had one silo coming online.”

Rhodes sighed.  “Five-hundred missiles on that site, and one of them is almost ready when we need it.”  He tapped the speaker.  “Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir,” Hicks responded.

“Keep an eye on the bud, Lieutenant.  Scramble the sub and the planes to be ready on a dime.  Have a cleaner-crew ready, strength of detergent to be determined once we know what we've got.

“But,” Rhodes emphasized, “priority one is the rescue.  Nothing drops until our asset is clear.  Is that perfectly understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Hicks replied.

Rhodes turned off the speaker, turning to Sally, grimly.

“That was something we did not need.”

He grabbed up his clipboard, nodding to Sally.  “Follow me on my rounds?”

Rhodes was always careful to speak to her as if asking for a personal favor, rather than giving an order, which was how he spoke to pretty much everyone else.

It was clear, however, polite or not, he expected to be obeyed.  Sally followed obediently enough.

She sometimes wondered how he really felt about her.  He seemed to personally care, yet remained aloof.  He also seemed deliberately paternal, perhaps establishing platonic psychological boundaries.  But he had taken her under his wing – necessity of resources, notwithstanding, an administrator still needed an office, and therefore a personal assistant to run it.  As it happened, secretarial skills were rare among the Mount's battle-hardened combat troops.

And if you were living on the Mount, and were not one of those soldiers, then you better fill some function – every job needed to be done.

Sally first met Rhodes two years ago, and had the impression at the time the General had taken a liking to her – he had mentioned a resemblance to his daughter, Kate, who he spoke of in the tones of one lost and gone.

For Sally, the idea that she would one day not only be interviewed by a General, but actually consulted for updates on nuclear assets...?

That was the sort of thing she would not have predicted for herself during her sorority days at UCLA, only two birthdays and forever ago.

Her qualifications?  She had survived an early skirmish in a war that had yet to be fought – bare months later, she would have been one out of millions.

Before she was a spoiler for the apocalypse, she was a co-ed on a summer cruise – and ironically, if her ship hadn't sunk, stranding its passengers on the edge of a tropical jungle filled with prehistoric dragons, to be eaten alive, then