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

  “Ask them if they picked up anything on their sonar.” Alex shouted.

  Bull nodded and spoke into the microphone.

  “Negative, Scorpio, not so much as a blip.”

  “Look, down there!” the helmsman shouted hysterically and pointed down on deck.

  Alex and Bull turned to the forward window and could see someone opening the hatch to the hold. “What’s he doing?” Bull asked.

  They watched the shadowy figure drop something into the hold, and as he started to turn, another figure ran across the deck and tackled him. A bright purple light suddenly glowed from the open hatch, and they could see the two figures struggling on deck.

  “Shut down the engines and sound the abandon ship alarm!” Alex yelled at the helmsman. “Tell the Tannen we’re abandoning ship,” Alex ordered Bull. “We’ll lose radio contact in a few minutes.”

  A loud Claxton sounded throughout the ship as the helmsman slammed his palm on the alarm button. Bull informed the sub of their situation and tried to describe what he’d seen.

  While Alex stared through the window at the two men on deck, the helmsman ran past him and out the door.

  The light grew in intensity, escaping from the hatch like a searchlight at the opening of a premiere movie. The two figures on deck froze in mid-motion, locked in combat, and then they burst into purple light and disappeared.

  Alex waited until Bull dropped the microphone, and then staggered across the rolling deck, toward the door. He lost his balance and crashed against the bulkhead, and when Bull grabbed his arm and helped him stand, Alex saw Bull’s face was brightly illuminated by the light.

  “We’re out of time!” Bull shouted. “We’ll have to jump from up here.”

  “Okay,” Alex told him, and with Bull’s help, both men staggered out the door.

  Just past the stairs was another door leading to the lookout station on the starboard side of the ship. Alex and Bull rushed to the railing and looked down. The light from the open hatch illuminated the choppy water below, and they stared at the two life rafts drifting past, looking incredibly small from that height. They saw the helmsman in an orange life vest leap over the deck railing and swim toward the rafts.

  “Hold on!” Bull shouted into Alex’s ear, and ran back into the bridge. He shut down the engines and took one last look around, then ran back out to the lookout station.

  Bull grabbed the railing to steady himself, and then pulled Alex close so he could yell in his ear. “Wait until the ship rolls to this side, then jump,” Bull told him. “It’ll put us closer to the water.”

  The ship’s forward momentum had left the two life rafts well past the stern, and both men looked at each other with a sense of foreboding. They felt themselves dropping with the roll of the ship, and, with a final nod from Bull, both men leapt over the railing.

  Alex felt as though he was falling forever as he struggled to keep his feet pointed straight down. Suddenly, he felt the ice-cold water close over his head, but he kept going deeper and deeper, wondering if he’d ever begin going back up.

  Bull flailed his arms in an attempt to keep himself upright, but knew it was no use as he watched the water rush toward him. His side erupted in searing pain as he smacked the water and the air was driven from his lungs. Bright dots of light swirled on the inside of his eyelids, and he couldn’t tell which way was up. His head suddenly broke through the surface, and he desperately tried to fill his lungs with air. He managed the first gulp of air, and felt a sharp sting in his side. The second gulp of air was easier, but again he felt the sting and knew something was broken. He rose on a swell and looked around for Alex, but couldn’t see him. As he dropped into a trough, Alex’s head suddenly broke the surface a few feet away.

  Alex sucked the cold, damp air into his lungs with a great sense of relief, then looked around and saw Bull a few feet away. “Are you okay?” he shouted.

  Bull nodded vigorously, still trying to catch his breath.

  They had trouble keeping their heads above water as they bobbed up and down on the swells. They stared after the ship, still drifting about four-hundred yards away.

  “Give me your hand!” someone shouted from behind them.

  Alex and Bull turned and saw a large orange raft, one man reaching over the front, two more paddling vigorously. The raft reached Bull first, and he accepted the hand. When he tried to pull himself over the side, it felt as if he was being stabbed in the side with a red-hot poker. He screamed in agony and he fell back into the water.

  Alex heard Bull scream and swam up next to him. “What’s wrong?” he shouted.

  “I think I broke some ribs,” Bull grunted.

  Alex looked up at the man in the raft. “Get some help!” he hollered.

  A moment later, the two paddlers were leaning over the side. The three men grabbed Bull’s arms, and, with Alex pushing as best he could from below, managed to roll Bull into the raft. Two men helped Bull to the center, while the third man helped Alex over the edge into the boat.

  “Get us away from the ship!” Alex ordered and grabbed a fourth paddle. Together, they began putting some distance between themselves and the Scorpio, while Bull lay stretched out in the middle of the floor.

  The sound of the screaming Claxton on the Scorpio suddenly ceased. Bull struggled to a sitting position and pointed behind them. “Look!” he blurted.

  Everyone stopped paddling and turned around. The Scorpio was enveloped in a sparkling rainbow of colors. In numbed fascination, everyone watched the rainbow cascade over the railing and drop into the sea. A few minutes later, the Scorpio was a dark silhouette.

  Something wasn’t right, thought Alex, and looked up. High above, just under the cloud cover, was a bright crescent moon. He thought back to Sorenson, and the full moon outside his motel room in Houston, but his thoughts were interrupted.

  “Ahoy, the raft!” a muffled voice hollered across the water.

  The group turned to see where it came from, and one of the men pointed. “It’s the other raft,” he shouted. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Over here!” he yelled.

  Alex knelt closer to Bull and spoke into his ear. “There’s no way the submarine can take all of us onboard. I think we should row over to the Scorpio. I learned she doesn’t need a computer to operate. Think you can climb the ladder?”

  “Do you think it’s safe?”

  “I think so. Whatever happened is over now.”

  Bull nodded. “I can make it.”

  When the two rafts met up, Alex told everyone they should return to the Scorpio. Two men objected out of fear, but Alex convinced them he’d seen this before and the light wouldn’t return. As they battled to row against the rough seas, they were constantly battered by wind-driven rain and seawater. One man in each raft had to bail out the water continuously, and to everyone, it seemed like they had been paddling for hours before reaching the ladder on Scorpio’s stern.

  The Scorpio had swung around into the wind, which made it easier to grab the rungs near the stern. Still somewhat afraid, the other men insisted Alex goes up first.

  Now empty, the Scorpio rode high in the water, making the climb much longer. Weary from paddling, Alex found the climb exhausting, and wondered how Bull would manage. Once on deck, he spotted a life ring and rope, and lowered it over the side.

  “Two of you come up and give me a hand,” he shouted through cupped hands toward the rafts, and waited. A short time later, two men stepped on deck. Alex gave them a few moments to regain their strength, and then waved his arms down at the raft as a signal to send Bull up.

  Bull allowed the rope to be tied under his arms, and then grunted in pain as he stood and grabbed the ladder. He felt the rope become tight, and began his assent. Each time he reached up for the next rung, he felt a sharp pain in his left side, but forced himself to ignore it and kept climbing. As he neared the top of the ladder, he could feel the rope getting tighter and knew he was losing his strength, putting more demand on his helpers. By
the time he reached the top, it was all he could manage to raise his arm for the last rung.

  Several hands grabbed his wrist, dragging him onto the deck. He was more exhausted than he’d ever been in his life, and each deep breath sent sharp pains through his chest. Bull rolled onto his back and stared up at the dark clouds. They gradually grew darker and the pain in his side seemed to vanish as he, thankfully, drifted into the deep, black void of unconsciousness.

  *

  The darkness began to fade, replaced by a bright, white light. Bull opened his eyes, squinting at the face above him.

  “How are you feeling, pal?” Alex asked.

  Bull saw the concerned look on Alex’s face. “Like shit,” Bull answered, turning his head to look around, and seeing the metal track and white curtain surrounding him. “What happened? Where am I?”

  “You passed out and we took you down to the sleeping quarters. We pumped seawater into the holds for ballast and took the ship into Port Angeles. I called an ambulance, and rode with you to this hospital. You have three broken ribs. You’re damn lucky none of them punctured a lung.”

  “I guess so. What happened to the Defiance?”

  Alex shook his head solemnly and looked dismal. “She capsized in the storm. The Navy searched for survivors, but didn’t find anyone.” Alex saw the sorrow in Bull’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Bull. There was nothing we could do.”

  “I suppose you’re right, but, my God! Why the hell is this happening?”

  Alex shook his head. “I wish I knew, pal. Listen, you’ll have to stay here for a few days. I’m flying to Washington to brief the President. A super tanker ran aground in India after leaving Kuwait. The circumstances are almost identical to our tankers. It was empty before it ran aground, and the crew is missing. OPEC is threatening to stop shipping oil from their countries until we find out what’s happening. See you when I get back.”

  Bull nodded. “Thanks.”

  Alex tried to give him a reassuring smile before he left the room.

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  SNOQUALMIE, WASHINGTON:

  Calli refused to sleep in the same bed with her husband that night, so she and Pamela went to another room. Sometime during the night, however, Harold felt her crawl under the covers next to him. In the morning, she continued to argue she wasn’t going to any army camp, and he could leave without her, trying to force him to change his mind. Harold felt more self-confident about his new ability to make decisions for his family, and his new sense of individuality. He remained steadfast in his decision to leave for the AOS camp. He helped his children load their belongings into the trailer and, despite her refusal to go with them, put Calli’s bags inside, too. When Monroe started his truck, Calli walked from the motel and climbed into the trailer with Mark and Pamela.

  Jerry Monroe and the Woollys made good time along Interstate 90. They attempted to stop at a rest area, but it was crowded with hitchhikers, so they drove through without stopping, all of them painfully aware of the sudden madness forcing people to do whatever was needed to survive. The interstate skirted most of the small towns along the way until they reached the outskirts of Spokane, Washington, where the police stopped them at a roadblock. It was explained that soldiers from the Air Force base and the National Guard had joined forces with the police, and had managed to maintain law and order in the city. No outsiders were allowed in unless they turned in all their weapons and brought enough food to last them for three weeks, which would be turned over to the community supply to be rationed out.

  Monroe explained that they were just passing through, and refused to surrender their weapons. They were curtly denied passage through the city, and were forced to backtrack thirty miles and take narrow, winding back roads around the city. They spent the night on an abandoned two lane black top road next to a dark farmhouse. The following morning, they drove across the border, merging with Interstate 90 again in Coeur D’Alene, Idaho.

  Back on the interstate, they proceeded without further incident and finally made it to the little town of Osborn. It appeared deserted, with now familiar signs of looters. Monroe parked on the main street and let Mark out of the trailer to ride in the truck with him and Harold.

  Mark tried to remember what John Everex had told him about finding the AOS camp. “He said the road didn’t have a street name, just a number,” he explained, but couldn’t remember what it was.

  Monroe continued through town, watching the signs on the side streets until they stumbled on Route 26 north. “Is this it, Mark?” he asked.

  Mark shifted uncomfortably in the seat and looked left at the two-lane road of Route 26, which went up the hill. He looked to the right and saw a row of stores with broken windows, but no street. “I, ah, I’m not positive, but the number twenty six sounds familiar.”

  Monroe nodded and turned to the left.

  Mark grew more excited by the moment. His dream of joining an army was about to come true, and it was all he could do to sit still. Fifteen miles farther on, they saw a barricade across the road.

  Four soldiers in olive green uniforms leapt out of a small building beside the barricade, and quickly surrounded the truck and trailer. Monroe’s hands involuntarily tightened on the steering wheel as the serious looking soldiers pointed their rifles at the windshield. He glanced at his passengers and saw the stunned, frightened expressions on Harold and Mark’s faces.

  Calli and Pamela stared out the front window of the trailer at the soldiers. Calli was still uncomfortable with the guns Harold and Monroe carried, and the sight of more guns caused her stomach to tighten in fear. “I don’t like this at all!” she whispered to Pamela. “We don’t know what kind of people they are. Maybe they’re Neo-Nazis, or something.”

  A fifth soldier stepped out of the shack and approached.

  “I think it’s exciting, Mom! We’ll have our own army to protect us, and the one coming toward us looks so handsome in his uniform.”

  Calli stared at her daughter in surprise. This was the first time she’d seen Pamela show an interest in the male species. In another time and place, she would have been glad, but now it didn’t ease her tension. She turned back to the window and strained to hear the conversation, but it was too muffled.

  Monroe rolled down his window as the soldier stopped beside him, and noticed the AOS patch on his shoulder.

  “You’ll have to turn around and go back the way you came,” the soldier said curtly.

  “We were told we could join your army,” Monroe replied.

  The soldier shook his head. “Not any more. We have plenty of people. Too many, if you ask me, so just turn around, and leave.”

  Mark slid closer to the window. “My name’s Mark Woolly and I was invited.” Mark handed the soldier the brochure he’d received in the mail.

  The soldier glanced at it, grinned sarcastically, and tossed it to the ground. “I’ve seen hundreds of these things in the past few days. They don’t mean shit anymore. Just do what I tell ya!”

  Mark was devastated. “I know one of your soldiers, and he sent this . . .”

  “Don’t argue with him, son,” Harold interrupted and nodded to Monroe. “We’re sorry, Jerry.”

  Monroe smiled politely. “We had to try.” He shifted into reverse and backed away as the soldier walked back to the barricade.

  Mark began to panic. He wanted to join this army with all his heart and soul and wasn’t about to give up this easily. He leaned out the window. “His name is John Everex, and if you call him, he’ll tell you it’s okay!” he hollered.

  The soldier froze in mid-stride and spun back toward the pickup. “Hold it!” he hollered and ran up to the window. “Did I hear you right? Did you say you were invited by Major Everex?”

  “Yeah. He sent me the brochure personally,” Mark told him.

  The soldier suddenly looked nervous and licked his lips. “I, ah . . . You should have said that in the first place. Wait here a minute while I call this in. What’s your name again?�
�

  “Mark Woolly.”

  The soldier nodded, turned, and jogged back to the shack. A few moments later, he stepped out and waved to the soldiers to remove the barricade, and ran back to the truck, grabbing the brochure on his way. He wiped it off on his pants and handed it to Monroe. “Look, I’m sorry about this, but I had my orders and you didn’t tell me . . .”

  “It’s all right, son,” Monroe told him. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

  The soldier looked relieved and grinned. “You go right on through for another six miles and you’ll come to the camp. Someone will be there to meet you.”

  Monroe nodded, shifted into drive, and passed through the open barricade. The road continued through the forest and, six miles farther, made a sharp left turn. The forest opened onto a wide clearing with several buildings around the perimeter. Another soldier stood in the road, so Monroe stopped and the soldier walked up to his window.

  He ignored Monroe and looked at Mark. “Would you come with me please, Mr. Woolly? Major Everex would like to see you.” He looked at Monroe. “There’s a road just up ahead, on the right. Take it and you’ll see the tent camp. Drive past the tents and park your rig with the others. Don’t wander off. One of our people will be there in a little while.”

  Harold opened his door and let Mark crawl out, feeling nervous about this whole situation. Apparently, Mark didn’t, since he was grinning from ear to ear. “See you later, son.”

  Mark just waved and walked around to the soldier, staring at the man’s uniform in adoration. It was neatly creased, and the black belt and holster were impressive. Mark wondered how long it would be before he had a uniform.

  Calli watched Mark climb out and walk to the soldier. Not knowing what was going on was bad enough, but when the truck started moving without Mark, she panicked and rushed to the door, throwing it open and nearly falling through. She held onto the doorknob and managed to regain her balance while she leaned out the opening. “Mark!” she yelled, but didn’t hear a reply. She looked down at the road slowly moving past, and was about to jump out when Pamela grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back into the trailer. Rage coursed through Calli, and she spun on her daughter. “What are you doing?” she snarled. “They’ve got Mark!”