The Siege Page 14

  He eased down the embankment and started the long slog to the tower. It was a hundred yards from the road. It did have a nice, dry service road that could be accessed from the north end of the property, but that would take too much time to get to. Rural routes didn’t have many connecting roads. Large areas of farm and wasteland took up most of the acreage of the northern edge of the state. The tower stood between two counties, and the entrance to the tower was in the adjacent county. If Tom found a problem, he would have dispatch contact the other county’s sherriff’s department.

  The temperature had dropped enough to form a thin layer of ice. Tom’s boots crunched through the ice with no problem, but it killed any element of surprise. As the water got deeper, he had to use his thighs and then his abdomen to break the ice. The human body wasn’t shaped to act as an icebreaker, and Tom suspected he would be bruised in the morning. To his joy, he found solid ground, and as he walked out of the water, his waders became stiff in the cold night air.

  He heard movement above him. He took out his flashlight and trained it on the spot the noise came from. “Stop right there. Climb back down the tower,” he ordered.

  “Is that chap talking to us?” inquired an accented voice.

  “Yes, I’m talking to you on the tower. Come down now!” Tom ordered.

  “Blimey, the little bugger can see us,” another voice said in alarm.

  “Get down here now!”

  “The level of authority in his voice indicates the lad thinks he’s in charge,” the deeper-voiced speaker of the two commented.

  Tom tapped the radio on his shoulder. “Dispatch, alert Stevenson County that we have trespassers on the AT&T cell tower, over.”

  “Did you say on the tower, deputy? over.”

  “Yes. Two, possibly three individuals, over.”

  Tom knew better than to climb the tower. Alone he was vulnerable. He decided to make himself comfortable on the ground where he could keep track of the climbers. To Tom’s amusement, the two never stopped talking.

  “I do believe the filth has us pinned.”

  “Well, yes and no,” his cohort replied. “He’s hoping to bring us in alive, but unfortunately that ship has sailed.”

  Tom heard an odd creaking. He trained his light on the tower and thought he saw the upper half shudder. Was it a trick of his eyes? A groaning of steel under stress confirmed that he hadn’t imagined it. Tom took off running as the tower broke in half. He only had his flashlight and his remembered theorems from geometry to go by. He managed to be missed by mere inches as the tower folded downwards like a switchblade knife. He’d almost reached the swamp before the momentum of the swinging top half knocked the remaining half off of its supports. Luck was with him, and the crushing steel missed him completely. However, he found himself pinned inside one of the large microwave dishes.

  ~

  Burt checked his phone and was surprised to see it had no bars. He walked over to Cid and asked, “Is your cell working?”

  Cid pulled out his phone and shook his head. He walked into the kitchen and picked up the landline. The steady hum indicated that all phone service was not out. “Landline is functioning.”

  “I’m sure this is just a momentary blip. But it does bring up the question, how much of our stuff is dependent on bars?”

  Cid tried not to show his amusement over Burt’s lack of technical knowledge. He couldn’t stop his voice from having a condescending tone when he explained, “We don’t have cable here, so most of our internet is dependent on the transmissions from the cell tower over on 109. We do have dialup ability. As long as the landline isn’t compromised, we have internet. Our individual earcoms are on the PEEPS network as are our walkie-talkies and in-house Bluetooth.”

  “Good, it looks as if you’ve thought it out.”

  “Actually, Ted gets the credit. He was working on a way to hijack a satellite, but Mia put the kibosh on that one. She insists that her baby-daddy not be a con. He argued the point, but she gave him that look.”

  “I know that look,” Burt said. “I’ve received that plenty of times.”

  “I think all of us at one time or another have,” Cid said sympathetically.

  “Well, I guess I’m off. It will be good to get a good night’s sleep in my own bed. Thank Mia and Ted for their hospitality.”

  Cid walked with him to his car. He made sure it started before he retreated to the barn. The television was on the history channel. Murphy tapped his axe every time he disagreed with the narrator. Mia had fallen asleep in the rocking chair. Someone, he assumed it was Ted, had covered her up with one of the old blankets they normally used as a dustcover for the bots.

  Murphy turned around and put his finger to his lips, indicating the snoring woman beside him.

  “Don’t worry, she’s out for the count,” he assured the ghost. “Seen Ted?”

  Murphy pointed to the opposite end of the barn.

  Cid wanted to protest that no one had been in the office when he passed by, but if Murphy said Ted was in there. Ted was in there.

  Cid walked into the dark hallway and was assaulted by the overhead lights turning on. He opened the dark office and braced for the second light assault. Ted was sitting still, staring at the computer.

  “Wi-Fi’s out,” Cid told him.

  “I know, I just connected the small computer to dial-up. I was sitting here thinking through a problem when the lights went out.”

  “Must be some problem. The motion sensor is set for fifteen minutes in here.”

  “Mia hates the motion sensors.”

  “So do I,” Cid confessed.

  “Et tu, Brute?”

  “In the common rooms like the kitchen, I can see it. But, dude, the bathroom? I won’t even go into the subject of having a sleepover guest.”

  “You’ve had a sleepover? You and Marta?” Ted questioned.

  “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “Well…”

  “It could happen,” Cid said.

  “Thought so.”

  Cid raised his hand to emphasize the witty comment that didn’t manifest. He lowered it and instead asked, “So what are you doing sitting here in the dark?”

  “I was rethinking my satellite hack. I think I need more power.”

  “Mia said no.”

  “Mia’s not the boss.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  Ted looked over at him and then back at the computer where Jake had been keeping score on personal digs.

  “Very funny, Jake. Without dialup, you’d be grounded right now,” Ted reminded him.

  The computer monitor went suddenly blank.

  “He’s playing hardball,” Ted said. “Well, I can play that game too.” He reached under the table and pulled the phone cord out of the computer.

  There was a whirl of an engine, and Curly rolled through the open door and over to the phone cord. Within a few minutes, the machine had formed a functioning hand and reinstalled the phone plug.

  Ted then turned off the PEEPs Wi-Fi.

  The monitor lit up with a white flag flying across it.

  “I can see who the disciplinarian is going to be in your household,” Cid said.

  “All you have to do is think like a kid,” Ted bragged.

  “No great feat, considering you’ve never matured,” Cid said.

  A large checkmark landed under Cid’s score, and all three screens erupted in firework displays. Game Cid was displayed in large orange letters.

  Cid laughed.

  “What’s all the…” Mia said sleepily from the doorway. She saw the monitors and finished, “fuss about?”

  “Just a battle of words. I won,” Cid gloated.

  “Nerd games,” Mia said, shaking her head. “Mia the pregnant Martin had a very sleepy head. All she wanted to do was grab her husband and get in bed…” she sang in her off-key way.

  “Please stop,” Cid asked.

  “I haven’t gotten to the nerd games part yet,” Mia complained
.

  Ted got up and took his wife’s hand. “Minnie Mouse, time to get you back into the house and up to bed.”

  “Have all of our guests left?”

  “Yes, all but Dave, and he’s out cold. I suspect that he’s worn out from verbally battling with Amanda. Burt just left,” Cid reported.

  “Thanks for holding the fort,” Mia said in mid-yawn. “I thought Murphy could use some company after his stressful day.”

  “You’re a horrible hostess but a wonderful friend,” Cid commented.

  “Ouch, and thank you, I think.”

  Ted swept his wife up in his arms, and if Cid wasn’t there, he would have dropped Mia on the floor. The pain reliever masked that Ted’s muscles hadn’t recovered yet.

  “What happened to my arms?”

  “Geek arms have no muscles,” Cid sniffed. He set Mia gently on her own two feet.

  “You try chopping through concrete and then dig your own grave.”

  “I really wish you would state that differently, Teddy Bear.”

  “You’re not cut out for physical labor,” Cid stated. “Geeks don’t dig holes, not intentionally.”

  “You’re a geek, and you have muscles,” Ted argued.

  “I’m a Geek Contractor, a hybrid,” Cid said proudly, pulling back his sleeve to show his arm muscles.

  Mia looked at the gun show for a few seconds and then took Ted’s hand. “Come on, dear, let’s leave Cid to his own delusions.”

  Cid expected this from Mia. She would always have Ted’s back even in a well-intentioned argument.

  Ted pulled the zipper up on Mia’s parka. “Do you know Cid thinks he’s going to get laid?”

  “Honey, it can happen,” Mia said, opening the office door. “It’s not impossible, look at you?”

  The door shut on Ted’s embarrassment. Cid reached out and used the landline extension and dialed Burt’s number.

  After a few rings he picked up.

  “Sorry, I forgot I had this phone until it rang,” an out-of-breath Burt explained.

  “Just checking to see that you made it home safe.”

  “Well, I’ve made it as far as the garage. There was quite a lot of activity going on in town when I went through. The fire trucks were rolling, and there were only two cars left in the lot of the sheriff’s station.”

  “Do you think it has something to do with us having no cell reception?”

  “Could be. The trucks were headed north towards 109,” Burt guessed.

  “Terrorists?”

  “In Big Bear Lake? I don’t think so. The only terrorists interested in our little hamlet are the dead ones.”

  “Clever,” Cid acknowledged.

  “Any sign of the spirit in the barn?” Burt asked.

  “No. Ted, Mia and Murphy were in there all evening. I’m sure one of them would have noticed a lamenting ghost drifting around.”

  “Guess so. I hear a winter storm is on its way. It should be hitting us by nightfall tomorrow night. I’m calling off the Saturday PEEPs meeting just in case it arrives sooner than expected.”

  “Good plan. I’ll let the PEEPers here know. Since I have a free day, I’m going to head out and finish up the factory job with Dave. I could use a paycheck; Christmas is coming,” Cid said wistfully.

  “Are you going to Bev’s party?” Burt asked.

  “Ted and Mia are. I thought I’d ask Marta. Maybe I can impress her with the swells I know.”

  “It sounds like you’re serious about the gal,” Burt said.

  “Too early to tell, but she’s in the running,” Cid said with a confidence he didn’t feel. “Well, I’m off to bed, early day tomorrow.”

  Cid replaced the handset and closed up the office. He waved to Murphy who seemed to be marathoning Fact or Fiction.

  ~

  “I don’t give a flying reindeer if it’s a swamp here. I want the area flooded with light. We have a missing deputy. One of our own is missing!” John Ryan shouted.

  The team of deputies was joined by the fire department. Together they scoured the site, working their way methodically through the twisted steel.

  Tom had exhausted himself screaming inside of the overturned dish. Whatever sound he made was magnified back at him. His head throbbed, and he feared a migraine would kill him long before exposure to the cold and damp did. He tried to call, but the only source for his data plan had contained him. His radio, too, had not been able to breach the microwave dish. He estimated he had been trapped for two hours now. He knew there had to be searchers there. He had felt the vibrations from the approaching vehicles. He just couldn’t get anyone’s attention. He went through his pockets. Aside from his flashlight, there was little there to help him in his present situation. In his frustration, he hit the inner edge of the dish with his flashlight. The ping was almost immediately absorbed, but it did ping. With his hope renewed, he began tapping out a SOS.

  “Fall in!” John called to the deputies.

  The rescuers were talking amongst themselves, most of the people complaining about the sheriff’s over-the-top attitude. When the voices died down, John tried again to speak.

  “Who the hell is tapping? Come on, people, the temperature’s falling, and Braverman is still out there somewhere!”

  The tapping continued, and one bright EMT called out, “It’s not us. It’s Morse.”

  “Well, tell Morse to shut the… You mean Morse code?”

  The young uniformed officer put his hand to his ear. “It’s an SOS, sir,” he called out.

  “Well, answer it,” John spat.

  The EMT took a loose piece of the tower and headed over to the largest metal piece he could find and started banging out a response on the large dish.

  Where are you?

  The tapping stopped the SOS for a heartbreaking moment, then answered the EMT.

  Inside the dome.

  “He’s under this dish!” the EMT called out.

  John and several others tried to budge the dish without success.

  He radioed back to dispatch to get a crane to the area. After a few minutes, the dispatcher gave the ETA of the crane.

  “What do you mean four hours? Braverman won’t make it four hours!”

  “Sir, we could dig under it. Just a body size tunnel. Brace it with that broken concrete,” suggested a fireman. “Or a hole just big enough to pump in fresh air.”

  John hadn’t thought about air. He’d assumed, incorrectly, that the dish wasn’t airtight. He pushed his hands through his spiked hair and thought it was time for him to retire. He just wasn’t thinking straight.

  Tom rubbed his arms and contemplated putting his waders back on in the hope of possibly retaining more of his body heat. The tapper had told him that help was several hours away. Tom thought about burning his ticket book in order to start a fire, to heat the rocks he had collected, but he didn’t see anywhere that the smoke could leave the dish. His air supply was finite, and he didn’t need to rush his demise by adding CO2.

  The extreme silence was the worst part of this adventure. Tom had reconciled himself to certain death a while ago. Having died once already had assured him that life didn’t stop just because your heart did. Well, it did in the corporeal state, he admitted to himself. However, the soul did live on. He decided that he didn’t want to exist for eternity in silence, alone with only his own thoughts for company. These few hours, aside from the tapping of the Morse transmissions, were the limit of the quiet solitude he felt that he could take. He decided, that if he couldn’t surround himself with people he loved, then he would move to a city where he could live out his bachelor days in the noise of strangers.

  A scratching sound reached his ears and stopped him from circling the drain with his morbid fantasies of a decaying man surrounded by noisy neighbors.

  He crawled to where he suspected the emergency extraction team was digging. At first it was just the scratching sound. Next, he saw the frost-dead grass waver. Then it disappeared altogether as a round air hose po
pped out of the earth like a curious meerkat. The hiss of fresh air followed. Tom sat near the oxygen, enjoying a bit of a buzz.

  It took another hour for the hole to be widened enough for Tom to wiggle out and under the edge of the massive dish. A few seconds after the extraction, the earth shuddered, and the dish sunk further into the ground. Tom estimated that, had he been inside, that would have been that. No more Tom.

  “How the hell did you end up in there?” John questioned him.

  “I don’t know. Lucky, I guess. When the tower began to collapse, I was thinking more of avoiding being crushed, sliced and diced by the steel. I had no thoughts about the microwave dish. It probably saved my life in the beginning. But, with all things, the Lord gives, and then she rips it out from under you.”

  “She?”

  “Oh, my mother assures me that God is a woman,” Tom said over his shoulder as he walked over to where the EMTs were packing up to get another hit off that oxygen before they left.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Am I living in the third world?” Dave asked as he pounded on the kitchen table.

  Mia looked over at the twenty-year-old and mentally wished time would fly until he was heading down to spend the Christmas holiday with his mother.

  “I take it dialup and your internet games don’t mix well,” Mia said, wiping the counter down.

  “It’s not just that, but Ted has put a kibosh on the whole enterprise. Something about being cut off from the outside world.”

  “I think Cid’s gone for a splitter. Then you’ll be up and running.”

  “Up and crawling you mean. I’m going back to Burt’s.”

  “Burt’s cut off too, as is the whole town, perhaps four counties. I’ll be glad to drive you to the bus station.”

  Dave glared at the overeager Mia. “I can’t leave for a few days. My mother is having our house fumigated.”

  “Well, then I suggest you find something else to do in the meanwhile,” Mia said unsympathetically. “The boys are playing robots; maybe they’ll let you hold a wrench or something.”