“How do you figure?” Jacob shot back. “Because we took control from the country doing the most damage to the planet? Is it because we want to erase every trace of you people from the land, to return it to a pristine state where humanity can co-exist with nature? Is it because we value science and order above the chaos of whatever it was you Americans did to this continent?”
His mind was clear, but the newfound insight didn’t make him any smarter, or change his past. After his one tour overseas, he’d curled up into a ball as he’d done under the desk. For most of the previous ten years, he’d lived within a few city blocks of his cardboard spread back in San Francisco. It left him with little knowledge of the news at large or what was taking place in the world. It was as if he’d jumped into a time bubble and emerged a decade later with no additional wisdom. He could not dispute anything Jacob had said about the land he’d once fought to defend.
He tried to shift the conversation, as he often had to do for tourists when they wanted to engage with him, rather than simply give him his handout. “You really believe in your cause, don’t you? How’d you get started with David?”
Jacob was silent for a few moments. “Well…I met his people while working in a hotel in Thailand. They said they were looking for executives who could manage a lot of visitors. Inflow. Feeding. Uniforms. The whole lot. The only requirement was I had to attend David’s seminars. Back then, he went by the name Jayden Phillips. He sold all those self-help books, you know?”
“Sure,” Dwight lied.
“Anyway, I was going nowhere, and I didn’t have anything to lose, so I went. Needless to say, the seminar changed my life. I met others who thought like me. Others who believed the Earth needed to be fixed and it could be done by fixing ourselves in David’s perfect image. His methods seemed extreme, but, as you can see, it worked flawlessly, as he promised.”
Dwight leaned against the door to get a better look at Jacob. The guy still had faith in whatever he’d been brainwashed to think in those classes. If Poppy was there, she’d tell him he was dealing with a true believer. Someone who, even in the face of a painful death, thought his killers were acting correctly. Nothing Dwight could say would ever get him out of his mental prison.
He flexed his fingers. Instead of being stiff and painful after years of hard drinking and living six feet from his personal open-air latrine, his entire hand moved as designed. Without pain.
Still, being healed wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It came with the understanding of the trouble he was in. The punishment he was up against.
A guard came down the hall, looking right at him. “Breakfast is over. It’s time for your morning walk.” His laugh was menacing.
Dwight took a deep breath, desperate to not show how scared he’d become at being back in the real world.
CHAPTER 19
Eastern Colorado
Ted was a warfighter and knew it was a serious matter to take a man’s life. As he sat waiting for the enemy bikers to drive up to his truck and park, certain a fight was coming, he should have been reflecting on the violence he was about to inflict on them. However, his mind was bothered by an inane question.
Do I shoot through the door and break the glass, or shoot above the frame so I can roll my window up later?
Emily breathed fast, getting ready for the attack in her own way.
The lead biker parked about six feet from Ted’s spot. He took off his helmet, hopped off his ride, then came up next to his window.
The man waved. “Hey, how’s it going?”
Over or under?
He chose over. Ted raised his borrowed Beretta above the door’s frame, pointed it at the guy’s chest, then squeezed the trigger.
The man’s eyes grew to the size of baseballs.
Ted braced his wrist, but the boom never went off.
A split-second of problem solving revealed the pistol had failed to fire. He’d already primed the weapon, so it wasn’t a loading error. It must have been a dud cartridge.
The whole team of bad guys hadn’t grasped what was happening, since the first shot hadn’t alerted them. The man opened his mouth to yell as Ted reached for the slide to kick out the bad round and—
Emily’s rifle appeared in front of him, aimed at the man. The AR wasn’t shockingly loud, but it was two feet from his head, and he already had a headache from his fall in the kitchen. When it went off, he was the one who yelped in pain.
The man went down.
“Thanks,” he shouted, ignoring the power drill churning inside his skull, instead prepping his weapon while praying it worked.
Ted aimed at the nearest man. He was maybe ten feet away. The guy had been looking away from the truck, talking with his buddies, and wasn’t yet ducking like some of the others. His back presented a huge target.
He shot at the biker three times, hitting with each one.
“Four,” he said in an even tone, keeping track of his rounds fired. To Emily, he whispered, “Fire like hell. I’m getting out.”
“What?” she replied.
Despite the question, he trusted her absolutely to do as he asked. He kicked open the door, avoided stepping on the dead guy, aimed in the direction of the next target, and fired multiple times as he ran alongside the truck.
He counted another six rounds.
Emily banged out a steady flow of shots as he stayed low and hustled to the rear of the SUV. When he rounded the corner to get out of the men’s sight, he glanced
