Chapter 6 - Jackson

The Bastille was what we called the slightly run down studio apartment in downtown OKC. There was a large freight elevator as you walked into the building with a metal reticulating fence that folded open and closed. Gerald had backed the trailer under the protected overhang of one of the pay to use parking spaces. It partially hid the Jet ski’s and helped to make it seem like we were simply taking furniture from the pickup or trailer.

Gerald took the heavier bottom piece of the rig and Jane and I took the top part. It was awkward and more painful than I let show, trying to carry my end with the cast on my left forearm. I could rest the edge of the capsule on the cast without any problems. It was just when I tried to grip anything or put any weight on the actual hand that I’d break out in a bloom of sweat at the jolts of pain exploding up my arm. We loaded the first one into the freight elevator and took it down to the basement. Detective Daniels stayed with the truck. His badge and presence would be enough to stop anyone from asking too many questions.

Gerald and dad had set this location up years ago and said that they’d gotten an incredible deal for the basement. No one seemed to want to pay for the gloomy underground space, but it was perfect for our needs. The studio took up the apartment building’s entire bottom floor. There was a small but tidy kitchen off to the right as you come in the door as well as a three person couch across from a 55” wall mounted television, two recliners, and a large rug placed on the floor in the living room. In the back of the flat were the bedrooms. The floor had been a completely open layout but we came here with Gerald and he’d shown us how to do some “fast and dirty” drywall. We set up the four large bedrooms in the back with a hallway down the center. There were three queen sized beds and a king along with a utilitarian layout similar to what you’d find in a standard hotel. The military precision was evident. Bed, dresser, lamp, table, one each. Jane clicked on the television and turned it to the news as Gerald assembled the capsule.

“… are excited about the new release of a potentially generation-changing technology: Infinity Online created by Infinity Entertainment, a subsidiary of Prometheus Corporation.” A blond 30-something news anchor was speaking into a microphone outside of Prometheus Corporate Headquarters. “Infinity Online has finally completed its Alpha and Beta testing and is now ready to go live tomorrow morning at 9am Central Standard Time. Infinity Entertainment has also released some exciting news for new users. They have worked hard at making an incredible product and have stated that they will be putting their money where their mouth is. If you find and submit a bug, glitch, or exploit, they are willing to reimburse you on a scaling system based on the nature and degree of the bug found. You can locate the reimbursement table on our website at…”

We wasted no time in getting back upstairs and getting the next rig loaded up. We were as fast and as careful as we could be opening up the hidden compartment and pulling the expensive equipment out and putting the jet ski’s back together. We got the second capsule loaded into the apartment, assembled, and plugged in. Jane ran a second series of diagnostics to make sure everything was still good. Gerald told us he was going to step out and take the trailer back to the house and leave it there. He would also pick up two of the four headsets that had arrived in the mail just after we’d left, according to our doubles.

Before he left he shared a long look with detective Daniels before walking over to the back closet. He opened the door and flipped a catch on the inside. A rough-cut but serviceable part of the wall came free and swung open to reveal a small arsenal. He pulled out a rifle I recognized immediately as an M1-A4 and handed it to Jane along with a set of magazines. He handed me a Glock with two spare magazines and reached back inside and came out with a FNH Mark 1 Police pump action shotgun and a box of shells which he handed to Daniels.

“I heard you were pretty good with one of these.” He said to the big black man.

“You know, all this is making me reconsider whether you guys know more than you’re tellin’ me about what happened to Susan.” Daniels said, inspecting the shotgun carefully.

“This hasn’t got anything to do with Susan. This is all me, my dad, and Lionel. We’ve been preppers before there was even a word for it. We were banking on zombies. Well I know I was,” I raised my hand, nodding my head enthusiastically, “but I guess this whole thing is about as close as we’re going to get.” He turned to us. “You don’t leave this room. You don’t go outside until I get back. You don’t go outside with those weapons at all. I know you kids and I know you can handle yourself, but that doesn’t mean it’s legal for you to be carrying those around. If someone comes through that door without giving the signal. Shoot first and interrogate the body.” I nodded, ejected the clip, checked the slide awkwardly by bracing it against the edge of my cast and cleared the chamber. I set the gun on a small end table near my capsule on the far wall of the room that I had claimed as mine with the slide locked back and the three clips laid out next to the weapon. Gerald moved back to the closet, tripped the catch and returned the hidden compartment back to where he’d found it. He made his way to the front door and began to open it when detective Daniels spoke again.

“Stone.” Gerald looked back. “I been meanin’ to ask you. You the same Gerald Stone that won two—”

“No. I’m not. That man is dead and buried. Don’t bring it up again.” Gerald’s face could have been carved from granite. He closed the door firmly and the metal gates of the freight elevator could be heard closing. The elevator activated and moved up to the first floor.

“He lyin’?” Daniels asked me with a raised eyebrow.

I sighed. “Yes and no. He really did lose something of himself over there. He doesn’t like to talk about it. He refused to be interviewed or do a dog and pony for the military. His family still gets calls from talk shows and journalists—he’s too hard to trace so they try to get to him through them. He’s never once returned a phone call or given them the time of day. The only thing he’s told me is that what he did over there, he did for his brothers, and not for a flag, or fame, or any arm-chair politicians and bureaucrats.”

“Damn.” Was all Daniels said. And I guess, that said it all.

“Shouldn’t you be at the station or something? I thought it was kind of weird that you were following us around.”

“Took some vacation.” He said simply. “It’s also part of the job. Whatever this is, it’s puttin’ pressure on my bosses. After the ambulance took you guys away, they gave me the third degree about followin’ you and gettin’ involved. Seemed to think I should’ve let those guys throw you in the van and drive away. We had… a disagreement and I was reassigned. I decided to take some vacation and here I am because, well. I’m stubborn. Let’s just put it that way.” I nodded and held out my fist. He bumped it. “Alright, man. I gotta know. How they doin’ all this? It can’t be cheap keepin’ up with one of these safe houses much less multiple ones. Guns, gizmos, and God only knows what else. Who are you people?”

Jane laughed at that. “I figured you’d be closer to this type of culture than most. Make no mistake, it is a culture, an obsession, really. There are organized groups out there who do nothing else with their free time than plan and prepare for some huge crisis. It’s gotten to the point that it feels more like a competition than anything else. They get together on forums, blogs, newsletters, and anything you can imagine and just swap experiences, ideas, skills, and resources. A good majority of them are ex-military and this serves as a coping mechanism for some of their issues. If they prepare enough they’ll never have to experience what they have before, or if they do, they’ll be ready for it. If you think this is all just our family, you’d be wrong. This is a concerted effort by a community that is smart, dedicated, driven, and highly competent. How did that forum post put it? ‘We are the fruit of a legacy born in the fires of the second amendment, and should another tyrannical and corrupt government rise within these lands, we shall be the image bearers of hope and the flame of freedom. The second amendment was instituted on the back of a long and hard fought war against an oppressive regime and designated to be called upon against the future possibility of the same’. Or something like that.

“Damn, girl.” Daniels eyed her warily. “You scary.”

“You’ll get my gun when you pry it from my cold dead fingers.” She said with a sunny smile. “Seriously, though, it’s a bit high minded and nebulous. Who determines when a regime has become ‘tyrannical and oppressive’? We really aren’t that far over the bend, but there are some deep truths there. We’re starting to see some very scary stuff that’s come out from behind the scenes. Snowden being only the most widely reported. If that’s what made the news, sit back and think for a second about the things that never did. If there ever is a clear crossing of lines and it becomes the people versus the government, its these groups here that are going to spearhead that movement.”

Detective Daniels sat back in the recliner pensively.

“Breaking news!” The busty blond reporter cut into the silence. We all turned to look at the television. “Here at KCKO we just received word that there is evidence that the lead programmer for Infinity Online, Susan Lee, has conducted industrial espionage by making a copy of the source code for Infinity Online. Susan Lee was found in a car accident early yesterday morning and is now in a coma. Her husband suffered injuries as well and is currently at her side. It is believed that she has smuggled the source code out to her two children who remain at large. They are not presumed armed or dangerous. If you see either of these two, please contact law enforcement immediately. There is a $1 million dollar reward by Prometheus Corporation for the recovery of the lost data.”

On the screen were our high school pictures with Jane and my names beneath them.