The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

strapped the M16 over his left shoulder and scanned for the GPS but didn’t see it. He surveyed the surroundings, examining both the bluff and the thin, debris-filled shoreline to his south. He remembered Jamie’s beacon.

“I can do this,” he said, reaching for the bloody bullet wound. “Two miles. I can do this.”

He didn’t know whether the shoreline would be passable, but he didn’t care. Ben ignored his pain and ran.

 

31

E IGHT MILES AWAY, along a dirt road deep within the national forest, Agatha Bidwell awoke to the most repulsive odor she encountered during her exile on this Earth: Cigarette smoke. She coughed as she opened her eyes and saw Christian a few feet away, pulling a long drag. He released smoke through his nose. He was bent down, an M16 slung over his shoulder, as he looked off into the distance.

Deadening pain radiated through her soaked, shivering body, and every limb lay useless. She refused to die in such disgrace.

She heard people racing past her, boots on the ground, and shouts like battlefield commands intertwined.

“What do I most despise about teenagers?” She asked her son.

Christian dropped his cigarette and leaped to his feet. “Mom,” he said, racing to her with a big smile. “I told this sorry bunch of cowards not to give up on you.”

He unscrewed the cap on a bottle of water; she took a sip.

“What do I most despise about teenagers?” She asked again.

Christian laughed. “Their remarkable capacity to achieve an intellectual mediocrity while in pursuit of a level of sexual fulfillment one might expect to find in their simian ancestors.”

Agatha nodded despite the pain and reached out to her son.

“Good man,” she said. “And a wonderful student. So tell me, is the world rid of one particular teenager with long, blond hair and a frightfully annoying disposition?”

Christian shook his head. “I wish we were, but Huggins has him, and we don’t have a clue where. The son of a bitch … he must have known we were coming. We unloaded so much damned firepower into that lake house. We should’ve killed them all.”

Agatha’s memory was rubble. She looked around, allowing the setting to jar details into focus. The other observers who sided with her – minus the late Rand Paulus, Arlene Winters, and Dexter Cobb – were present. Three cars and the park ranger’s helicopter were stationed on a narrow dirt road. She sat against a car, ears ringing.

“At first, Jonathan was sure the explosion must have killed you,” Christian said, “but I told that bastard to bring the chopper down to the water. We fished you out.”

Christian’s mention of the explosion brought back everything.

“Help me understand, Christian.” She coughed, and her lungs felt soar. “Where are we now? What is the status of our mission?”

Christian balled his fists. Agatha told him to calm himself and think without emotional distraction.

“We did everything we could, but look, Mom, I wouldn’t advise any trips in front of a mirror, at least for a while yet. The cuts and burns on your face … well, there was glass and fire everywhere. Like I said, we did our best. We had to get you out of there quickly. We knew the explosion would draw too much attention, and we couldn’t risk the cops tracking us. We’ve been listening to the police band. They’re worked up. They found the ranger you killed; they found Ignatius and Rand. Add to that a couple of firebombed houses and a stolen helicopter … let’s just say, police are starting to mobilize. We’ve heard them say ‘terrorists’ a couple of times. You know how twitchy people can get these days when they hear the t-word.”

She touched the bandages on her face. “Where are we, Christian?”

“Hopefully safe, at least for a time. We landed the helicopter here, then Arthur was able to determine our coordinates and lead the rest of our team to a safe rendezvous.” Christian glanced at his watch. “It’s 6:40, almost an hour since the explosion.”

Agatha did not want to utter the words.

“Do you believe we have lost this battle?”

A pall came over him; before he spoke, Arthur Tynes intervened.

“Very possibly, Agatha. I’m pleased to see you’re back with us.”

“Are you?” Agatha grimaced through her pain. “If I’d been left in the water, you would have every reason to abandon the mission and make haste to the fold. Yes?”

“We would be if it weren’t for Christian. He was the only one who insisted we continue the search. Your son is a remarkable orator when he chooses not to be a considerable jackass.”

“They were talking retreat,” Christian said with a sneer. “Said we’d already lost too much. Four Chancellors. I told them, ‘Four is an even bigger reason to keep fighting. We don’t go after Sheridan, we don’t take it out on Huggins, then those four died for nothing. If we can’t finish the fight here, then what use we gonna be on the other side?’ That was my case.”

Arthur groaned. “That, and the barrel of your rifle, conveniently aimed in our direction.”

“That, too,” Christian mumbled.

Agatha tried in vain to laugh. “Do you have a new plan, Arthur?”

“Until we have some tangible clues as to their location, we’re blind. Jonathan is going to take up the chopper and do a complete fly-over of the lake and the surrounding roads. However, time is hardly an ally. The sun is almost up, which does not help matters. Jennifer Bowman is about to leave for Austin Springs. I’ve asked her to remain inconspicuous while there. It’s a slim hope, but it’s also the closest town of any size.”

“Are you sure she’ll remain as long as we need her?”

Arthur nodded. “She’s terrified, but she understands the necessity. Lester wanted to go with her, but we need every resource here.”