The Alex Cave Series. Books 1, 2, & 3.: Box set Read online

  Again, questions were shouted at Barnsworth, who waved his hands to quiet them down. “Ladies and gentleman, please!” he shouted. “I’ll answer your questions one at a time!” As the voices quieted down, Barnsworth pointed to a man in the audience.

  “Mr. Barnsworth, are you saying big business will be allotted more gasoline than the private citizen?”

  “Not necessarily. Some key industries will be allotted more if their products are an integral part of the national welfare, such as hospitals, food manufacturers, and portions of the trucking industry.” Barnsworth pointed to a woman reporter.

  “What about the military? Will the Government be rationed along with its citizens?”

  “To a certain extent, yes. However, we still need to ensure national security.”

  “What about the airline industry?” the woman continued.

  “We’ve ordered them to cut back on the number of flights to ensure the flights carry a full complement of passengers.” Barnsworth pointed to a man in the back row.

  “How are people supposed to get to work? Does the President realize how many businesses will go bankrupt?”

  “Like I said, this is only temporary. We are going to give financial aid to companies specializing in mass transit. We know this will be a burden for a while, but we’re confident the citizens of the United States will pull together to curtail the waste of petroleum products.” Barnsworth indicated another man, standing to the right side.

  “Mr. Barnsworth, you’re telling us what we have to do, but you’re not telling us why this is happening.”

  “I’m not at liberty to give you specific details, but let me say we are not the only country forced to implement a rationing system. Canada is following our lead, as will other countries around the world.”

  “You can’t expect people to blindly accept this rationing without telling them why!” the man continued adamantly.

  Barnsworth conferred quietly with a man standing next to him, nodded, and faced the audience. “Okay. I’ll tell you why. For years, we’ve squandered our crude oil, and now it’s time to face the consequences. To put it bluntly, for the time being, we’re running out of oil.”

  Again, the room erupted with questions, but Barnsworth didn’t reply and walked away from the podium. The newswoman’s voice replaced the sound of the pressroom. “We don’t have all the details yet,” she explained, “but we will fill you in once we’ve read the press release they are handing out right now.”

  Christa turned off the television and stared at nothing in particular, lost in thought. If Broden is right, this rationing could just be the beginning of a situation, which will only get worse.

  She slowly stood and walked to the bathroom, took a shower, and crawled into bed. By the light on the nightstand, she stared at the crystal she had found in the tanker, now enclosed in a small, clear plastic box. “What have you got to do with all this?” she asked, as if it were alive and could answer. She sighed, set it on the nightstand, and turned off the light.

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  SNOQUALMIE, WASHINGTON:

  Harold stared up at the man with the shotgun, both looking gigantic. He’d never been so scared in his life, and though he didn’t know it, his mouth was moving while he tried to think of something to say.

  The man grinned. “Well now. Don’t you look like a fish out of water? If you lay that pistol off to the side real gentle like, I’ll move this scatter gun off your chest.”

  Harold slowly slipped the pistol from his belt and set it on the floor. “I, ah. I don’t want any trouble, mister.”

  “Neither do I, but I’m tired of all you people stealing everything from my motel.”

  “Oh no! I wasn’t trying to steal anything! We’re just looking for some place warm to spend the night. Honest, mister. I mean, after all, this is a motel.”

  The man stared at Harold for a moment, and then grinned. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Might as well use it.” The old man switched the shotgun to his left hand and brought it up, pointing over his shoulder. He reached down with his right hand. “The name’s Jerry Monroe.”

  Harold reached up and his hand seemed to disappear into the other man’s, then Monroe pulled him up. Monroe was nearly a foot taller than he was, Harold noticed. Probably six-foot-two, and lean except for a slight overhang at the belt. “I’m Harold Woolly. My wife and kids are out in the car.”

  “I noticed. No sense in letting them worry about what happened to you.” Monroe nodded down the corridor.

  Harold looked down at his pistol. “I shouldn’t leave that laying there.”

  Monroe grinned again. “Sure. Do you even know how to use it?”

  Harold thought about the boy he shot and felt a deep sense of remorse. He nodded slowly at Monroe. “Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

  Monroe noticed the sadness in Harold’s eyes. He knew people were having serious problems, now that the old ways had changed. He didn’t ask Harold for an explanation as he watched him pick up the pistol and shove it under his belt.

  Harold turned and led Monroe down the corridor and out the front door. He saw the fear on Calli’s face when she saw the big man with the shotgun. “Everything’s okay,” Harold hollered as they approached the car. His wife and kids didn’t want to get out when Harold waved to them. “It’s all right, everyone. Come out and say hello to our host, Mr. Monroe. This is his motel, and he said we could stay here tonight.”

  Mark climbed out first and walked up to Monroe, eyeing the shotgun. “Is that a Remington twelve gauge?”

  “That’s right. You seem to know your guns.”

  “I collect them. I have twenty eight guns and rifles,” Mark said proudly.

  Monroe looked surprised and stared at Harold for confirmation.

  “Plastic replicas,” Harold told him. “Except for this one,” he continued and touched the one in his belt. “He shouldn’t have had it in the first place, but I guess it saved our lives once already. This is my son, Mark.” Harold turned when he heard the car doors opening and watched the girls haltingly climb out of the car. “This is my daughter, Pamela, and my wife, Calli.”

  “Hello, Mr. Monroe,” Calli said, while eyeing the shotgun suspiciously.

  “Nice to meet you. You’ll have to pardon the shotgun, ma’am, but as you can see, I’ve had some problems here.”

  “We’re all pretty tired, Mr. Monroe,” said Harold. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to move into one of your rooms and try to relax. It’s been a terrible day.”

  Monroe nodded. “You kids look hungry. Have you eaten anything today?”

  “Not since breakfast,” Pamela answered.

  “And I’m starved,” Mark added.

  “We have some canned food in the car,” Harold told him.

  Monroe looked at each of them. His general feeling was they were probably decent folks thrown into a world gone mad. “You’re welcome to sit in the trailer and use the stove. It beats eating it cold.”

  The Woollys traded looks. After what happened to them earlier, it seemed strange for someone to be hospitable. Harold could tell his family would appreciate a hot meal, and looked at Monroe. “That’s very kind of you. We accept.”

  Monroe smiled. “Go ahead and put your things in a room or two, and come on over when you’re ready.” Monroe suddenly chuckled. “I guess there’s no need to fill out a registration card.”

  Harold smiled at the irony. “Thanks again.”

  Harold insisted they share one room with two beds, much to the disgust of his children, who argued they couldn’t possibly sleep together. He grabbed enough canned food for Monroe to join them, and the group walked to the trailer. Monroe hollered the door was open before he knocked, and his family followed him in.

  As he stepped through the door, Harold looked around. To the right was a small hallway with doors on both sides and steps leading up to a large bed. To the left was a dining and kitchen area, and at the far end was a small living room, with a sofa, coffee
table, and swivel chair. An entertainment center with television, DVD player, and stereo was mounted on the wall across from the sofa. Monroe was sitting in the swivel chair, with a drink in one hand and a remote control in the other.

  “If you’d like a drink, the liquor’s above the sink,” Monroe told them. “Make yourselves at home.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Monroe, but we don’t drink,” Calli quickly responded.

  “I’ll have one,” Harold told her, receiving a shocked expression from Calli.

  Harold shrugged. “After the day I’ve had, I could use one.”

  Calli started to argue, but Monroe interrupted.

  “It’s been one hell of a week, hasn’t it?”

  Calli stared at Harold for a moment before she turned to make him a drink. Harold was changing, she realized, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it. She fixed his drink, glaring at him as she handed it to him.

  “Come and sit down for a spell, and I’ll fill you in on the news I just saw on TV.”

  “I’ll join you in a minute,” Calli told her family. “I want to get dinner started. We brought enough for you, too, Mr. Monroe.”

  “Thank you. And call me Jerry.”

  The rest of the family entered the living room, Harold sitting on the sofa, and his children on the floor, staring at the snowy picture on the television of a news announcer sitting behind a desk.

  “The reception’s not that great, but it’s the only station still broadcasting,” Monroe told them and looked at Harold. “Things aren’t getting any better. The military’s trying to get control of things, but it looks like it’ll be a waste of time. People are desperate and doing desperate things, even shooting people who are just trying to help them.” Monroe shook his head dejectedly. “I don’t know what started this mess, but I don’t think it’s going to end soon.”

  “So what are we supposed to do?” Calli asked.

  Monroe laughed. “That’s a good question. I think I’ll head for some part of the country that’s more open. Someplace warm, like Arizona or New Mexico. Course, everybody else is probably thinking the same thing. Might be hard to find enough fuel to get there, though.” Monroe studied Harold for a moment. “What about you?”

  “I’m not sure. We’re out of gas, so I guess we’ll have to stay here for a while.”

  Monroe shook his head. “There’s no food left, and it gets cold up here at night. When the power goes out you won’t make it.”

  “We should head to Idaho,” Mark told them. “We can stay with the Army of Survival. I’m sure they have food. The brochure said they’ve planned for something like this.”

  Monroe looked at Harold for an explanation.

  “It’s some kind of survivalist group. Like a private army, I guess. I don’t know much about it.”

  Mark stood and fished through his pockets to find the brochure for the AOS and handed it to Monroe. Calli returned to the kitchen while Monroe read the worn pamphlet.

  “Hmm, I’m retired Air Force. Captain, to be exact. I’ve never heard of this outfit. Sounds like they have their act together, though.” He looked at Mark. “Where did you get this, son?”

  “My best friend’s brother sent it to me. He was headed there after he got out of the Marines.”

  “It says their mailing address is Osborn, Idaho,” Monroe added and reached under the coffee table for a road atlas. He studied the map of Idaho and Washington for a few moments, and then nodded. “About three-hundred miles, give or take. I should be able to make it on what fuel I have left. That big silver tank in the back of my truck holds two-hundred gallons. Always kept it full because it cost so much to fill up if I ever let it go empty.”

  “Are you going to the AOS?” Mark asked.

  “I might.”

  “Can I go with you? I know John Everex, and I know he’ll let us stay there. Please, Mr. Monroe. I even know the way, sort of.”

  “That’s enough, Mark!” Harold interrupted. “I don’t think Mr. Monroe wants a boy tagging along. We’re a family. We’ll stick together.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Monroe. “Actually, I was thinking all of you might like to go with me. There’s enough room for all of us in this trailer.”

  Calli returned. “I don’t like this idea at all!” she said sternly. “We have no way of telling what those people are going to be like you’ve never been in the military, Harold. From what I know, military people are trained killers! No. I absolutely refuse to go to this army!” she stomped back into the kitchen.

  Monroe looked at Harold. “It’s up to you, but just consider the alternatives. It’s not going to be very pleasant out there on the road. And you’ll never make it staying here. You should think strongly about it.”

  Pamela looked across the coffee table at Monroe. “I think we should go with you.”

  “You stay out of this, Pamela!” Calli hollered from the kitchen. “We’re not going, and that’s final!” She walked into the living room and sat on the sofa, but kept her distance from Harold.

  Pamela looked up at her father. “Don’t Mark and I have a say in this, Dad? It’s our lives, too.”

  Harold thought about it for a moment. “You’re right,” he told her and smiled. He looked at Monroe. “Under the circumstances, I accept your offer, Jerry. Thanks.”

  Calli’s face flushed with rage. She leapt up and stormed into the kitchen, sitting at the table with her back to the living room. Now I definitely don’t like the way Harold’s changing, she thought. Well, if he thinks he can start telling me what to do, he’s in for a rude awakening. I’m not going to any army camp!

  Harold watched her leave and realized he didn’t really care about her being upset. He’d made his decision, and by God, he was going to stick with it. He was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of pride, and smiled. He’d never felt so much in control before, and he really liked it. He finally felt like a real man. A feeling he’d never felt in his whole, miserable life. His smile grew wider the more he thought about it. I, Harold Woolly, am finally in control of my own destiny, he thought. He continued smiling as he looked at Monroe. “When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow morning is as good a time as any.”

  “Yeah!” Mark yelled.

  Pamela looked at her father and smiled. She suddenly felt respect for him. A feeling she thought she would never have.

  Harold saw the look in his daughter’s eyes, and his heart soared even higher. He’d have to deal with Calli next, but he had no doubt he could handle her. He knew now he would never let her dominate him again.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  THE SCORPIO:

  The ship rolled incessantly in the storm, making walking extremely difficult as Alex made his way through the passageway and up the steps to the bridge. When he stepped through the doorway, he steadied himself against the bulkhead as he looked at Bull. Alex steeled himself for the walk across the deck and pushed away from the bulkhead. With one hand on the control panel, he bent his knees to the rhythm of the pitching ship. I’d rather be on a sailboat, he thought despondently. He looked through the starboard window at the lights of the other tanker, a Shell Oil Company ship called Defiance. “How long before we enter the Strait of Juan de Fuca?”

  “Another day and a half,” Bull told him.

  “Have you made contact with the submarine?”

  “Yeah, I talked to the commander of the Tannen just before the storm hit. They’re going to stay down for a while, but will be right behind us and the Defiance. Said they’d make radio contact again when the storm eased up a little.”

  When Alex told him he wanted to be on the tanker when it headed to the refineries in Washington, Bull decided to accompany him. He liked Alex immensely. The man was intelligent, Bull thought, and gutsy for wanting to be on the tanker when no one knows exactly what killed the previous crew.

  “Scorpio, this is Defiance, come in, over,” the voice through the ship’s radio called.

  Bull grabbed the microphone. “Defianc
e, this is the Scorpio. Go ahead.”

  “Something’s happening in the holds. It’s not a fire, but there’s a bright purple light coming out of the hatch. Can you see it?”

  Bull and Alex stared out the starboard window, watching the light on the Defiance increase in intensity as it rose above the deck.

  Alex spun toward Bull in sudden fear. “Order the Defiance to abandon ship!” he yelled.

  Bull stared at Alex curiously. “What?”

  “Tell them to abandon ship immediately, damn it! This is what the witness described happening in Houston.”

  Bull saw the fear in Alex’s eyes and keyed the microphone. “Defiance, this is Scorpio. You have to abandon ship.”

  “My god, it’s too bright. I can’t seem to breathe! It’s too bright! I . . .n’t . . .ook at it.”

  Alex and Bull could see the outline of the Defiance as the light continued to grow in intensity.

  “Defiance, you’re breaking up,” Bull hollered into the microphone. “Say again. What is it?” A burst of static erupted from the radio speaker for a moment, then ceased.

  Alex steadied himself as he looked through the window at the Defiance. Her deck suddenly erupted in a fountain of sparkling colors, which spread over the entire ship, as if she were enveloped in a huge rainbow. The sparkling rainbow appeared to be shrinking, and, a few moments later, it vanished.

  “My God,” Bull mumbled.

  “Scorpio, this is the USS Tannen. Come in, over.”

  The voice from the radio speaker made everyone flinch. Bull regained his composure and keyed the microphone. “Tannen, this is Scorpio. Go ahead.”

  “What the hell’s happening up there? We came up to look around and saw a rainbow in the middle of the night!”