5 YEARS AFTER 2.5 Smoke and Mirrors

By Richard Correll

The 5 Years After series continues with its unforgettable imagery, smart storyline and moments that scare the hell out of you.

- Newly promoted Captain Maggie Hunter commands her first combat mission in Canada.

-Believing that Maggie is dead. Brett journeys through the American Northwest as a first hand witness to the end of all things.

- Molly follows General Beuragard's invasion force into Kentucky where she comes face to face with proof of how close the country is to collapse.

-The Deacon explores abandoned New York City infested with dead. Are there survivors? The answer is both intriguing and disturbing.

A well thought out storyline with imagery that is as startling as it is descriptive. 5 Years After does a great job of presenting a future of darkness, contrasted with sprinkles of hope and humanity. - ATZ.com

...Rich characters.......an incredible and believable landscape ....

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBookIt.com
• Release date: Sep 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781456633493

Book preview

5 YEARS AFTER 2.5 Smoke and Mirrors

by

Richard Correll

Copyright 2019 Richard Correll,

All rights reserved.

Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com

http://www.eBookIt.com

ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-3349-3

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

CONTENTS

SMOKE AND MIRRORS

BAKER, CHARLESWORTH & NESTLETON

ALICE AND THE LOOKING GLASS

THE BROKEN ROAD

THREADS

SMOKE AND MIRRORS

Suddenly, eyes wide open.

She took a breath and then held it. Molly didn’t dare move but her eyes scanned the ceiling left to right. The darkness seemed to be hiding something. Her neck craned to the left and the window of her hotel room. There was some feeble light from far fewer street lights and signs that made the blackness turn grey. Yes, just enough luminosity to give substance to shadows. Now, her imagination had something to work with.

Was he back? That one who had reached out of the car window and grabbed her in Cleveland? Stop.  She exhaled. The one who touched her leg in Washington, was he here? Stop. She felt a cold chill caress her ankle. That’s right where he touched you, isn’t it? Imagination ignored the plea and played on.  Perhaps it was that girl from the highway that had far away eyes on the road to Huntington. It was like she was listening to music.  She had followed you all the way here.

Stop, Molly finally whispered to an empty room.

She sat upright in the queen sized bed. Her fingers gripped the covers tightly. At any second she was ready to pull the bed linen up as a feeble defense to whatever lunged out of the shadows. We just don’t wake up like we used to. Her breathing felt more controlled now. Primal fear is our passage from slumber. That’s what happens when you’re the prey.  Molly’s eyes carefully scanned the room, watching the darkness for anything out of the ordinary. The chair was still a chair. The desk had not moved one iota in the few hours she had been asleep.

It winked at her. From the corner of her eye she saw it. A reddish hue played the game of there/not there in the shadows. Now you see me now, now you don’t. It was there, Molly watched the black canvas for a repeat, a confirmation.

There it was. She was on her feet now. Fuck the dark. Her Blackberry winked again.

Her fingers easily found the plastic case without any enablement of light. Molly had done this so many times. The Blackberry couldn’t resist one more playful twinkle in the dark before her fingers lit up the faceplate. Messages: one. She tapped the icon.

You have one new message. The screen was black with white lettering.  Molly’s thumb tapped the keyboard and cut to the chase as her left hand turned on the lights. It was on messenger.

I do hope this note from an old friend finds you well. The words took shape on her screen. I just thought it was strange to see General Beauregard’s forces so far into Kentucky territory.

"What are you up to, General? She heard her own voice from a few hours ago. The answer had arrived. Molly thumbed the two attachments. The first was a map display. A teardrop was hovering over two intersecting ribbons of roadway. The Deacon had been close to Louisville.

What were you doing there so late at night, my friend? Molly let that thought file itself away as she tapped the second icon on the message, a jpg.

The picture was crystal clear in the Kentucky rain. A multi wheeled metal machine. Molly tried to access her limited military knowledge and came up blank. Was it a tank? Armored car maybe? Perched on top was a figure facing forward with his left shoulder to the camera. The man’s helmeted head had turned abruptly in the rain to face his photographer. A perfect O of surprise and guilt formed on his mouth. Molly’s fingers touched the screen and began zooming in on an emblem on the vehicle’s side.

There…….right there on the side of…..whatever it was. It was a tree of some kind. Molly’s eyes became intense and a touch wider. She had seen it a few times on flags and uniforms while she was in Huntington, The Republic of West Virginia.

Damn. She whispered. Molly carefully slowed her fingers and became deliberate. The information was saved in her phone with the care of a geologist opening a mummy’s tomb. She turned on her lap top and fished around in her Louis Vuitton bag for a cord. She plugged the cord into her Blackberry and the other into her laptop as it obediently awakened from its electric dreams.

Molly had suspicions that Beauragard was watching her email and listening in to her calls. If you had the right gear it was a piece of cake to do both. Marshall University was nearby and had a reputation for smart minds and high tech toys. The General had both at his command. The old school information passage was completed. Molly then filed the jpg and map away in the hard drive of her laptop and then replaced the cord in the Louis Vuitton. She reached for her Blackberry and thumbed down the phone directory. It was time to wake some people up.

They could be listening in. Her lips pursed for a second before her left hand found the secure Blackberry the military had provided. I got to find me a ride, her mouth creased to one side as she counted out her options. The Blackberry purred in her ear and CBS news promptly answered.

This is Molly Hunter. Her voice was all business and crystal clear.

Yes, Ms. Hunter. The man on the night desk vocally snapped to attention. How can I help you?

It turned out he couldn’t help that much. The guy had all the right numbers at his fingertips. That wasn’t the problem. Molly hated the next twenty minutes of call after call. She had to be somewhere and she had to be somewhere now. Every conversation went into elaborate detail of why Molly couldn’t get there.

We just can’t do it, Ms. Hunter. A pilot explained over and over. I’m sorry.

How can you do it? Molly pushed. Trying to drag him out of the logistical box he was in.

Ma’am, CBS has commercial helicopters. The pilot had reached a dead end. We could fly out and try and pick you up…….

And……?

Well, first off. The guy was riding a fine line between politeness and exasperation. They’d hear us way before we landed. We’d get blown out of the sky or arrested the minute we touched down. On top of that, we’d be out of fuel.

Okay. Molly eased up and tried another route. How do I get there?

The bridges are probably all guarded by the Republic’s forces so you can’t drive. The pilot paused for a second before continuing. Ms. Hunter, those things are everywhere on the highway. Please tell me you’re not thinking of driving.

I will if we don’t come up with something. She threatened.

I’m trying to tell you, Ms. Hunter. The pilot was right and she knew it. It just burned to hear why you couldn’t do something instead of why you could. Commercial helicopters do not have that kind of range.

Okay, I… Molly heard the words he spoke inside her head for a second. It became a translation of what he was really saying. Her tone changed as soon as the right words clicked and made sense.

So wait, there are helicopters that can make this journey? The velvet voice of the girl with a plan probed further.

I’m sure the military has a few but that’s…..

You’ve been very helpful. I got to go now, thanks. Molly hit end call and was already thinking of her next move. She stared at the phone screen for a second.

So, the Pentagon said they wanted information did they?

*

Ms. Hunter, I’m asking you to be reasonable. The desk officer at the Pentagon balled his free hand in frustration.

I am being reasonable. Molly’s saccharine voice replied. She almost batted her eyes sweetly to no one in particular.

Just tell us where his forces are. He tried again.

You come pick me up and you’ll find out. This time she did bat her eyes. Molly knew he couldn’t see it. But she wanted to stay in character. This was a role Molly Hunter had played before; the sweetheart of a girl who had you by the balls.

Ms. Hunter……. He tried again.

I don’t think you understand my relationship with the Pentagon, sir. Molly kept the voice sweet as Venus fly trap nectar as she tightened the screws. It’s a Ying and Yang thing.

Ying and Yang? His voice was a set monotone. He had lost his patience long ago but knew he couldn’t show it.

I have just yinged you with intel that General Beauragard is on the move. Molly explained in a kindly way that she knew was killing him Now, I need some Yang.

Yang, ma’am?

Yang, Molly snapped the trap. I need you to come pick me up and I’ll tell you where he is.

There was an exasperated sigh. Molly could feel others listening in. She let the silence between them gather weight and momentum while hand signals and notes were being passed on the other side of the phone. I can’t believe you thought I would just give this kind of shit up for free. She bit her lip to pass the time.

We have to make a few calls…..

Good. The word was a conclusion to the negotiation. Call me back in twenty minutes.

She ended the conversation with a flick of her thumb and headed for the shower. Molly closed the bathroom door and locked it automatically. It’s what we do these days. She slipped out of her Agent Provocateur lingerie and glanced over her shoulder to confirm the lock was in place. Remember the boogie man? He’s real now.......

Her hair was never going to dry fast enough. That’s just the Caribbean life, her hand fished into a luggage bag and slipped on a Reebok Sports bra, Eve St. Laurent short black sleeve top and an equally black Lululemon zip up hoodie. Brown pants and Merrell Moab ventilator hiking shoes finished things off. Molly surveyed the room and decided to travel light. She packed the camera, laptop, cords and batteries and rolled them into a ball of clothes. One bag, that’s it, the Louis Vuitton, of course.

Molly took a deep breath and slipped out of the bathroom and surveyed the room quickly before her phone chimed. She let it ring twice before picking up the secure Blackberry and raised it to her ear.

Yes?

We’ll be there in forty five minutes, Ms. Hunter. It was a new voice now. The woman was terse, to the point.

Good. She let the word play into the phone silky smooth. It was a raw knifepoint, a reminder of just who got what they wanted here.

Where are you? There were other voices now in the room, on headsets. It was the sound of shit coming together at warp speed.

The former Holiday Inn on Third Avenue, it’s called the West Virginia Republic Suites now.  She heard her relay the information, a male voice tersely replied with one syllable over the speakers.

Do you know where the Robert S. Byrd Bridge is? For a minute, Molly marveled how the woman could concentrate on their conversation with all the other voices in the room. Oh yeah, we girls can do that, she remembered.

I know exactly where it is. Molly could see the old metal skeleton of the bridge across the Ohio River in her mind. The last time she had passed by there were boats cruising on the brownish surface, men were searching the murky depths with flashlights, dredging slowly along the silty bottom. They definitely were not looking for fish.

There is a patch of greenery separating the highways and on ramps on your side of the Ohio River. The instructions were spoken in a cadence that made her think of Maggie when she was giving orders. Slow, careful and crystal clear.

Yes?

Don’t stand on the grass. The voice slowed even further. Stand on the highway so we can see you.

Got it, Molly took a few more things and slipped them into her bag, she couldn’t help but add coyly; You people put this all together rather quickly.

That’s what happens when you say the magic word around here, Ma’am. The communications officer replied without a beat.

The magic word? Molly was caught off guard by the reply.

Beauragard, the woman replied. Forty five minutes, Ms. Hunter.

*

The lock eased back carefully. In the cavernous hallway of the Republic Suites it still sounded like a pistol shot. There was always something odd about hotel hallways. The way the doors stretched into imagined infinity on both sides. Molly had observed to herself once or twice in a pensive moment how they looked like crossroads in your life, decision points. Your existence lined up and judged by each choice. You walked down the hall and opened a door, then what? There would be another hallway of endless decisions and doors before you. On and on, a never ending universe of what might have been.

You’re really going to do this, aren’t you?

Yes, She felt her feet quiver at the ankles before lowering her head and striding toward the elevator door. They’re out there, you know that. Molly tried to calm her nerves by remembering how safe The Republic of West Virginia had been, according to media sources.

According to media sources, the panic part of her replied as Molly’s finger tapped the down button on the elevator. Yeah, we in the media never lie. Not us, we’re right as rain. As the doors rolled open Molly distracted herself by taking one last look down the infinite hallway. If I were Beauragard, I’d have put someone on watch outside my door. She continued her train of thought while entering the elevator. You know, just in case I tried something like this. As Molly’s eyes sifted around her surroundings she happened to glance up at the darkened ceiling and its tiny, artistic nodules that seemed to blink back at her.

Gotcha, her mouth pursed as the cameras tracked her move.

She carefully placed her Louis Vuitton on the floor and pulled the hoodie over her head. Molly had a moment to size up the situation while the numbers counted down to her destination. It slowly occurred to her who she was dealing with. Beauragard was a man of command, always in control and giving the orders.

At least when it comes to me, she started to feel herself get some wriggle room. She remembered back to the battlefield and how close he was when she turned around. Molly arched her neck in thought as the elevator settled in to its destination with hydraulic resonance. Remember the soldier in the jeep when you changed the game plan and said you didn’t need a crew?

Oh shit, his face had said it all. He had to get new orders. Molly picked up her Louis Vuitton and stepped a bit closer to the doors. Okay, we’ve got a plan.

Ping!

It never occurred to Molly how slow elevator doors really were. They began to grind open to reveal the Chianti colored rugs. The off white walls were overgrown with moldings and wooden shapes. It seemed like an attempt at imperial that had fallen a bit short. Molly put her head down and made a quick pace to the front door.

Oh....oh! A voice called out as she passed the front desk. Ms. Hunter! Ms. Hunter!

Yes? Molly turned slowly and made her face into a friendly smile. Her eyes tried to hide the shade of deviousness in her thoughts. I love it when I have a plan. Her right eyebrow arched slightly under the hoodie.

You aren’t going out are you? His voice seemed to be a touch higher than she remembered. He was a thin black man with short hair and the touch of a moustache. He was the perfectly tailored attendant for the night shift.

Family business, She kept it short and turned toward the door.

Oh ........um....  From the corner of her eye, Molly saw that look again. Oh, shit!

It’s okay, honey. Molly called over her shoulder. I’ve got a ride.

As her hand pushed into the thick, plate glass door Molly knew she had found Beauragard’s Achilles heel. His people had been given specific orders in that deep, serious tone of his. But what happens when you pull the unexpected, when army grey encounters Technicolor? The automaton takes a pause, reboots. Molly did not have to look back to know the desk clerk was already on the phone to his superiors.

What do I do now? He would ask almost fearfully.

His superiors were just part of the chain. They would be like the ponderous elevator doors, grinding through the options while time ticks away. It might come down to waking the General. How long would that be?

About forty five minutes, Molly reassured herself. Damn, that’s nice timing.

It started at the spot between her back and neck. It was a cold chill that seemed to lace out like tentacles around her shoulders. It seemed to crawl to her up her back with the care of a spider creeping forward. A long leg caressed her at the tip of her spine, causing her eyes to widen. Her hands were laced with cold ice. My fingertips, her breath stopped for a second. I can’t feel my fingertips.

Molly’s movements stopped and became numb. The darkness and shadows seemed to watch her. Everything about the night took on a darker shade, a careful conspiracy of her surroundings to hide her final fate. If darkness was an emotion, it was icy, pitch black fear. You’re outside now, where they are.....

This was almost fucking funny until now………

You have to move. Molly felt her right leg move forward rigidly with the left leg following the rhythm. It all has a very familiar feel to it, doesn’t it? That taste of fear that evaporates everything and leaves your mouth dry. Suddenly, you want to run and hide in the shadows.

Don’t be silly. You can’t go there. That’s where they’re waiting for you.......

But, you have got to go there. Molly felt like her plan was the trigger to a trap. You can’t stay in the open, the patrols will see you. You have to hide in the dark, work your way through the shadows. The cold spider that Molly had felt on her spine paused for a rapturous moment. The poetry of it all was almost lyrical. Molly Hunter, clever girl. You’ve spun your own web and trapped yourself.

Third Avenue was lit by a few streetlights with boarded up businesses supporting a three story parking garage in front of her. To her right, Big Sandy Superstore Arena reflected wanly. It was a reddish orange box out of place with the new reality of things. What do you do with a sports arena when all of the teams don’t play anymore?

Small trees provided just enough shadows for cover. She found her feet picking up speed in their direction. In the shadows, that’s where you can stay out of sight. Molly inhaled slowly and tried not to feel like something was watching her, beckoning her.

You can always go back, had the spider on her spine now found a voice?

No, Molly slowly kept an eye out for anything that moved.

Curiosity killed the cat. She was reminded. It’s pride that kills the rest of us.

Listen for them. They always have that hissing, low growl about them. Molly felt her ears approach hypersensitivity. There was a low reverberation that seemed to fade in and out of the very edge of what was discernible. It was there, then, it wasn’t.

Right, A voice clearly spoke from close by. Molly turned and crouched down behind a tree that had been planted close to one of the arena’s walls. She slipped the dark, reddish color of her Louis Vuitton bag in front of her brown pants. The black hoodie and the bag helped her blend into the shadows. Two men had been standing behind a white van parked across the street. They emerged into the road. The van was one of those cube things that were so hard to see around at an intersection. A man in a camo short sleeved shirt tossed a lit cigarette away as he crossed the street with his partner in tow who cradled a hunting rifle. Camo man sported a highly visible side arm in a holster. He raised an object to his mouth.

Don’t see her. Camo man spoke. Of course not, you were hiding out and catching a quick smoke. Molly knelt down into the grass.

........could be anywhere. The radio replied. Remember what to do if you see her.

Yeah, roger that. The camo man seemed annoyed that his time pursuing his private vice had been interrupted. He lowered the radio and nodded to his partner and they walked toward the hotel. Occasionally, they would pause and hazard a long look down the street for a fleeting shadow on the move. Their backs were to Molly in a few minutes.

45 minutes, Ms Hunter. Molly reminded herself as she carefully stood up and crept among the saplings. It was so quiet she could hear herself breathe. The edge of the building beckoned closer as one footfall gave way to another. It occurred to Molly that she had no clue what was around the corner.

Just keep going, she inhaled slowly as her fingers crept along the painted wall of the arena, creeping in the dark for the corner. Just take a peek around it. Its’ safe, it’s got to be safe.

Three explosions counted off the seconds. Molly felt the brick around her shatter and spatter the darkness with debris. She was down on her knees and around the corner. Molly then stopped her heart and breath. Her eyes widened but found nothing to focus on.

Got ‘em!! An unfamiliar voice bellowed.

Hell, yeah! It was camo man. Molly crawled on her stomach and peeked around the corner. A dark shape was splayed on the grass. Fuck, it was tracking me and I had no idea. She realized coldly, staring at the thing that was a shade blacker than the grass. Molly was face down in the shadows now. There were two approaching figures in the white splash of the sidewalk. The man with the rifle paused at the edge of the grass.

I could’ve sworn there was another one. The man with the rifle peered into the dark in her direction. He’s looking right at me. Molly tried to think in the shadows as she swore their eyes met. He sees me. I know he can see me.

I only saw one. Camo man seemed to be wishing out loud.

I dunno, The guy with the rifle raised the barrel slowly and pointed it in Molly’s direction. I coulda swore......"

Virgil. Camo man sighed and spoke in a logical, somewhat tired tone. We are near the end of our shift. This is no time for heroics.

Don’t move......Molly buried her face in the dirt. Don’t move, don’t breathe.

Her eyes were closed so she did not see them begin to walk slowly toward her. Their feet made no sound as the boots brushed the blades of grass aside. If they mistake you for one of them......

An animal sound split the silence in two. It was followed by a scream of surprise. Molly lifted her eyes to see a shroud rise from the grass and pounce on the rifle man. He screamed a second time while camo man stepped away and fumbled with the side arm in his holster.

It ain’t dead!! It ain’t dead!! He struggled with his rifle, raising it as a shield from enveloping, cold fingers. Camo man pulled out his firearm and fired blindly. Adrenaline in his veins set the fire of panic within him.

Molly couldn’t count the gun shots. They were like a single rapport played out in an echo chamber. The two forms struggling staggered together like a drunken dancing couple and crashed into the soft grass.

Aw Gawwwwwwwwd! Camo man’s voice wailed into the night. He was frozen in place with only his mouth moving. A form rose from the darkened shadows and staggered upright. The second figure lay motionless in the grass beside his rifle. Camo man was suddenly fumbling in his pocket to reload.

Among the shadows and vague streetlights, Molly saw an outline face the camo man. The jaw dropped open and a low growl froze time between them. Camo man looked up and his face became covered in shock. The thing took a step toward camo man and the spell was broken. He ducked, turned and ran toward the hotel.

Awwwww, sweet Jesus!!!!!!! She heard him sob. Sweet fucking Jesus!!!

Molly slowly stood up in the shadows, shoulders shivering uncontrollably. Was it really this cold out all of a sudden? Her mouth had parted slightly as she stared at the thing. It was watching camo man as he retreated down the street. The head then turned slowly back to its motionless prize lying in the grass. The teeth parted in anticipation.

For an instant, a thought seemed to cross its face as it looked up briefly. His face was almost handsome, young and once full of life. He wore a checked shirt with crimson rings pocking the fabric. The nose seemed to wrinkle almost imperceptibly. The shoulders hunched with animal intensity. Something is here. the puss yellow eyes scanned the darkness.

He smells me, Molly swallowed. Oh god, he knows I’m here.

It took a step toward her. It was like the shadows peeled back before it and revealed her to him. She felt helpless, naked and frightened. Their eyes met through the shadows and for a second time the jaw opened and uttered an animal challenge.

Molly took a step back and then another. They were slow and careful foot falls. Their eyes were locked and riveted on another. It took another step forward and assumed a ragged stance in front of the body on the grass. Again, it hissed loudly without blinking at her.

Leave..........leave me now. It took a stand in the dark and spoke without words.

Molly backed away faster now and it did not follow. She turned to walk away at a quicker pace with her breath still trapped in her throat. Molly stole a terrified glance over her shoulder. It was making sure she was gone. The eyes seemed to gather what little light was around and reflect it back to her. God damn it, they seemed to glow with an inner fire. Molly was almost running now..

As she crossed the parking lot Molly dared one more look in its direction, satisfied that it had vanquished all threats, the thing turned back toward the dark grass, it carefully knelt down beside the motionless shape that was its’ prize. Two shadows then seemed to meld into a single, larger form and the victor extended his teeth into the soft, precious and still warm flesh.

Her feet felt unsure amid the curbs, grass and corners of buildings. A Wendy’s that had been closed and re- opened as a field kitchen offered no light in the darkness. The glass windows were hidden by wooden boards six feet high. The window peeking over the top of the new barricades gave a pill box impression. It was just another place under siege.

Molly watched the shadows carefully as her pace quickened toward the highway. Each one was a warning, a cold moment in time. The darkness seemed almost mummified. She carefully watched the blackest centers of the shadows, looking for a hint that the sable canvas would move and follow her. Molly’s eyes slowly traversed the territory. On the other side of Third Street a funeral parlor sign etched in concrete caught her attention. She took