On The Run: Obliterating the Deep State, #6

By Jason Walker

After the untimely death of a beloved friend and colleague, things are looking bleak for Darren and his fellow defectors. Chased by bounty hunters on the surface and haunted by monsters lurking in the tunnels below, there doesn't seem to be any sanctuary that can be found. The world has gone mad, and even man-of-steel Darren Mathews is beginning to lose his resolve.

There is an underground train, which was previously discovered, but it goes somewhere that their group is unfamiliar with. Are Darren and his friends ready to take the risk? Will they be able to locate an underground city? And if they do, will it be inhabited by friendly beings that will offer them refuge?

• Language: English
• Publisher: F.McLeod
• Release date: Oct 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201682880

Jason Walker

Born in the mountains of Western North Carolina, the author began his career in Radio Broadcasting in the late 1970s. Having traveled the country, he has now, inexplicably, landed back in the town of his birth. Writing full time and producing audio and video promotional products for authors takes up his days and enjoying his life fills all the moments in between. Active in social media, he welcomes any opportunity to interact with his readers and sincerely believes that there is no such thing as negative feedback. Something can be learned from the opinions of others, even if that opinion is less than glowing. You are encouraged to contact him via email, social media or through his website. And as always, he thanks you for taking the time to read his words. He hopes you enjoy them.

Book preview

Many thanks

to Dario, Giusy, and T.C. DeWitt

for their work on this series!

Prologue

Darren And Anna Mathews’s Home,

Location: Isla Paraísa Off The Coast Of Florida

Year: 2006

Darren trudged into his house just after midnight. Shadows under his eyes spoke of his lack of sleep, and the puffiness in them was the only visible sign of the tragedy which gripped at his heart. He closed the door quietly behind him, hoping to not wake up Dana or Kara, Anna’s elderly mother who had come from Oregon to watch fifteen-year-old Dana during Anna’s illness. He wanted to have a few minutes of silence to himself before he had to face his most difficult challenge yet. Without turning on the lights, he hung up his jacket and headed for the kitchen. His heart sank when he approached the dining room and spied the light from the refrigerator.

He stood at the entrance to the kitchen for a moment, watching Dana’s hunched-over, adolescent figure as she rummaged through the fridge for something to eat. He mentally sighed before flicking on the kitchen and dining room lights.

Couldn’t sleep? he asked.

Dana took her head out of the fridge just long enough to see who it was. Then she dived back inside and replied, I just need a snack. Didn’t eat much today with finals and... everything...

Yeah, I can understand that. Darren hesitated before adding, Mind if I join you?

Dana came out of the fridge again, this time holding a large block of cheddar cheese. She eyed Darren up and down then slowly nodded. Sure, Dad. Can you get some crackers out of the cupboard?

Saltines or Ritz?

Both.

Darren grabbed a sleeve of Ritz and another of saltines while Dana got out a knife for the cheese and a couple of plates. Together, they sat down at the dining table, Darren at the head and Dana taking the seat just to his left, and prepared their snack. Darren poured the crackers haphazardly onto one of the plates, and Dana rolled her eyes at him as she meticulously sliced the cheddar. After a few minutes of semi-blissful silence—and Darren sneaking slices of cheese when Dana pretended not to be looking—Dana sat the knife down with a sigh.

I know that you have something to tell me, so just say it.

Darren cringed. Eat first. I think it’ll go better—

Mom died, didn’t she?

Darren didn’t look at her. He took a slice of cheese and set it between two saltines for a makeshift sandwich. What could he say? He didn’t want to utter the words – admit the truth of it. To say it would make it real.

She’s dead, isn’t she?

He set the little cracker sandwich aside and began to make another one, if only to have anything else to do other than speak to Dana.

Dad, she said so firmly and so like her mother, that his eyes found hers.

He looked away; he nodded nearly imperceptibly and closed his eyes tight. Yes.

Dana put her elbows on the table and let her face fall into her palms. Her muffled sobs tugged at Darren’s heart, and he reached over to pull her into a hug. She resisted at first before her grief took over and she collapsed into his embrace. Her cries grew louder and louder.

It’s okay, sweetheart, Darren lied only to console her. It’s... it’ll be okay.

She managed to find her voice, No, it’s not. Mom’s dead.

I know, and it’s horrible. You just—

"I just what?"

He searched for anything he could say to make her feel better. You just have to remember all the love and goodness she gave us.

Dana snorted angrily and pushed away from him. She rose and shook her head. I have to remember the good times? Are you serious? Because that’s a load of shit, coming from you.

He looked down, ashamed. How was it so hard to comfort his own daughter? You just have to keep on marching forward. It’s what your mother would want.

Like you even know what Mom would want.

Darren’s face scrunched up in confusion and he looked her in the eye. What do you mean by that? he asked, snapping more than he had intended to.

You’ve never been around enough to know what either of us would want.

He searched her eyes. Realizing that she was dead serious, he replied with a pained sigh, You know why I haven’t been around a lot. Your mother knew, too.

Don’t start with your alien and secret service crap again, Dad. Not right now. I really can’t handle it. Tears filled her eyes once more.

Darren was about to object but thought better of it when Dana returned to his arms and wrapped herself into him. She put her head on his shoulder and sniffled. He patted her gently on the back and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. A thought struck him.

I need to go get something out of mine and your mother’s room, he said as he started to stand up. I’ll be back in just a couple minutes, okay?

Dana glared at him but reluctantly nodded.

Darren walked to the back of the house, his heart sinking at the idea of leaving Dana alone for even a minute under these circumstances, but this was important. He made a beeline past his and Anna’s bed straight for Anna’s dresser. He refused to look at any of her belongings, certain that he would break down if he saw anything of hers other than what he was looking for. Finally, he found it lying on its back beneath a thick sweater in the bottom drawer: a ceramic Rottweiler, designed and handmade specifically for Anna many years ago. Attached to its paw with a piece of clear Scotch tape was a hastily-written note:

For Dana. Handle carefully until after my death. Mom.

Darren let out a shaking sigh but suppressed his emotions. He ripped the note off of the ceramic dog’s paw and stuffed it into his pocket. To him, the message was clear from all of the conversations that he and Anna had leading up to her death: give this to Dana and have her break it open when the time is right. The proof she needs is in there.

After staring at the ceramic dog for a moment, he collected himself and returned to the dining room. It hurt him to see Dana slumped over in her chair, her eyes red and swollen from crying, a teenager considered only three years from adulthood and yet still so much an innocent young girl who needed her mother, but he was determined to get his task done before he lost all nerve.

Dana.

She turned to him and spotted the ceramic dog. What’re you doing with that?

Darren forced a smile. It’s...your mother wanted you to have it after...well, after she died. She said that you always loved to play with it when you were a little girl and that since you want to be a vet, it might give you some inspiration and good luck along the way.

He held it out to her, and she gingerly took it from him. She cradled the medium-sized ceramic in both hands. A small smile graced her lips, and Darren’s smile grew a little wider.

Thanks, Dad.

No problem. Like I said, she wanted you to have it.

Dana stared at the dog for a moment. She smiled softly. It’s sweet that she remembered such happy times considering...her condition.

Darren nodded. Yeah, she was surprisingly lucid in the end, all things considered.

With one notable exception.

Heavy silence fell over them. Dana continued to stare at the ceramic dog, losing herself in her memories as Darren lost himself to his own thoughts. He wanted to say so much to his daughter. He wanted to explain in detail what he and Anna had done–what they had both seen even when they didn’t work for The Orange Corporation, but every other time he had attempted to broach the subject with her, she had shut herself off from him and refused to believe anything he had to say. Anna had always told him to be patient with her and guide her to the truth, not shove it upon her, but if Orange had already gotten to Anna, he was running out of time.

Dana, he said, his voice gentle and soothing, I know you don’t want to hear this, but your mother knew what she was talking about. All of it. And I do, too. I know you don’t want to believe it, but there are things—beings and technology—out there that are far beyond anything that we can comprehend in the context of our everyday lives. Your mother and I have both seen it, experienced it, and I just want you to know the truth before it’s too late—

"Oh, yes, the truth. The truth is out there! Thank you, Agent Mulder."

Listen to me, Dana—

Why should I? Dana set the ceramic dog on the dining table and stood up. It’s just a pathetic excuse to explain why you’re never around.

No, it’s not. You need to listen to me. I’m serious. Darren’s face took on a solemn, almost dark, expression, and Dana snapped her jaw shut as he spoke. "Your mother and I saw things that the Deep State and its partnering organizations don’t want anyone to know about. These are secrets that they’ve killed for. I killed people on their behalf, and so did your mother. They killed your mother—"

Stop it! Dana screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Just stop it! You’re talking nonsense. Mom had cancer. She’s dead because of cancer. That’s it. Please, please don’t turn this into one of your stupid conspiracy theories. You’re my father, you’re supposed to be here for me. We’re supposed to be helping each other, but I can’t do that when you won’t even admit to what actually killed her. She died of a disease that thousands of people die of every year. That’s it. No person killed her. Just an unfortunate, stupid disease that we can’t even manage to find a foolproof cure for."

By the end of her tirade, Dana had collapsed back into her chair and started crying into her hands again. Darren walked toward her, but she turned her body away from him.

Just leave me alone! she snapped. It’s what you’re good at.

Darren stepped back, as though something blunt had struck him in the chest. His eyes downcast, he muttered, Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and left for his and Anna’s room. He grabbed a couple duffel bags from their closet and began stuffing clothes, important documents, and a few pictures of him, Anna, and Dana. As he began to gather some of his guns, Darren stopped and leaned against their bed. Dana’s sobs were loud enough for him to hear all the way at the back of the house, and every now and then she uttered some sort of obscenity at him. Tears lingered at the corners of his own eyes, but he wiped them away before they could fall.

Dammit, Darren, get a hold of yourself, he mentally cursed himself. You have to do this, you know you do. It’s the only way to keep her safe until she wakes the hell up. He picked up a picture of an eight-year-old Dana from one of the duffle bags and stared at it, running a thumb over the girl’s cheeks. And maybe it’s best if she never wakes up at all.

Chapter One

Unwanted Thoughts

Darren’s Personal Quarters

Location: Base Of Dormant Volcano

Andes Mountains Range, Venezuela

Date: July 22, 2019

Darren sat at the table in his personal quarters, bent over one of the manila folders from the filing cabinets in the lower levels. This folder contained several designs for different craft, including a couple later designs for what appeared to be the Marconi Saucer and others that were early designs for the mag-lev trains. Some of the notes had been written in Italian and the others in German; while Darren knew Italian fairly well—well enough to navigate the consciousness technology using it—his German was a little rustier. Fortunately, he had the tourist language books that Markus had given him, and they had helped him greatly in the process of translating the notes.

He was currently working on the translations for notes regarding the mag-lev train, some of which discussed how sensitive the technology was to a person’s thoughts, especially if those thoughts were spoken out loud.

THAT would have been nice to know a little sooner, he thought bitterly as he thumbed through some of the pages.

Darren had been at the translations for a few hours and knew that he should get some rest—in fact, he expected Emily to pop by any second to nag him into going to bed—but he did not feel like he needed to sleep. He did not feel like he wanted to sleep. Every time he allowed his mind to slow down for even a second, all Darren could see was the image of those monstrosities ripping Bill apart. Bill’s shoulder flesh was torn off the bone. Bill’s arm was ripped right out of the socket. Then he saw Bill’s eyes, the light slowly leaving as the onslaught continued, and the blood that gushed out of his mouth as he told Darren to run. The deep red river of