Shadow and Shine (Book 2): Dark Divide Read online

  ********

  Harry

  Approaching sunrise

  Somewhere in Iowa.

  Harry laid in between Asher and Shelly. He envied them. At least they weren’t stuck staring at the stars, wishing they were dead. Every time Harry begins to think he’s on the right path, the world brought him back to reality. He was convinced this was his chance. He was positive, heck, even funny, and the group was beginning to like him. How many people in Harry’s life actually liked him? His last ex-wife didn’t like him, even before they were married. Yet these people made him feel at home. It took a missing leg, a broken finger, and his mouth ripped open to realize he was among friends.

  Harry thought back to when Ben took him out to the street and smashed his leg to pieces. Through all the pain, a light came in a vision and told him he would meet friends. The word friend changed him. A bright light shined through his agony to let him know there were people who would love him.

  Two of his friends were dead in the open field.

  The soundtrack to the end of his life was the sounds of Asher coughing. It wasn’t as bad as before, but Harry knew he was dying. No one survived this. That’s what Marshall said. It was only a matter of time before his pulse faded.

  Looking up to the stars, Harry wished the light would come again. He needed goodness. He needed hope. This empty field felt like as good a place to die as any, but he wasn’t ready.

  Death no longer sounded appealing. He wasn’t on the roof anymore. He wasn’t drunk anymore. He wasn’t angry anymore, either. Not to say he wasn’t infuriated with Marshall and his goons, but the daily anger that led him to his apartment roof was dead and gone. When his leg was cut off, so was a lot of hatred. Besides, if Asher was going to fight for life, so would Harry.

  There was a faint sound in Harry’s ears. It was a thumping noise against the ground. He could barely hear it. Was it a heartbeat? No. That would be crazy. Shelly died instantly, and Asher was subject to a dose of poison that could kill an elephant.

  Was it his own?

  No. It was too removed from him. He didn’t feel it. He heard it.

  Harry leaned up and listened.

  A bright light shined on the other side of the field as the heartbeat sound disappeared. It must have been the ground vibrating. Maybe.

  Either way, someone was coming. Harry hoped it was a friend.

  He hoped the light wasn’t wrong back in Utah. His story was supposed to be a redemption story. And he wasn’t feeling all that redeemed right now.

  The light grew larger.

  Harry didn’t know how, but in this moment he decided he was going to track down his friends and save them. He wouldn’t stop until all the men who put them in danger were dead.

  Especially Marshall.

  April 18, 2016

  Day Six

  Enough poison to kill an elephant, right?

  - Marcel Reyes

  *******

  The Chat

  Bryce Chapman

  Radical/Founder

  4/17/16

  Tomorrow marks the one week anniversary of the Salt Lake City Tragedy. Let that sink in for a moment, it hasn’t even been a week. It’s been the longest week in our country’s history; never before has there been a more defining moment than April 12, 2016.

  By the time the sun sets on the sixth day, our great state of Utah will be destroyed. I’m going to join the rest of my American brothers in mourning, so what I’m about to say cannot overshadow the pain I feel for those affected by the SLC Tragedy.

  However, in the last six days, there is another tragedy outside of the public discussion. While we’re debating on the President’s decision to withhold evidence, or if we’re infuriated with Ugo Ban’s ridiculous threat, no one (at least in the public eye) has pointed out the President’s refusal to do anything about the twenty four hour decree. We’re all too busy running, hiding, crying, and arguing to look at our Commander-in-Chief with an honest eye. We applaud him for his steady hand, but forgive him for being idle.

  Listen, I know I’m the last guy who should be writing about the President’s many failures. And yes, I know I’m being negative, but the President of the United States of America should do more than schedule a statement for one hour after the bomb is dropped. Since when did our big, bad, war-ready POTUS cower in the corner? Since when was Uriah James Watt, the firstborn son of the late Secretary General John Watt, reduced to a public speaker?

  The veil of American pride and supremacy has been lifted. We’ve been exposed as counterfeit comrades. The United States is only united on a map and history books. For years we’ve assumed supremacy over the rest of the world, yet we’re going to fall victim to the same decree as Kuwait and Mongolia. Third world countries. We were supposed to be the heroes of the world. President Watt, the savior of Sudan, the leader of the free world, the warrior turned politician, was supposed to be our protector, too.

  Instead, our nation is falling apart. Watt is cowardly. Beck killed himself. Martin has been hospitalized after being in a severe car accident. Sarah Francis has gone missing. We have another war lord recently named something called the Constitutional General of the United States, even though the guy has less (documented) leadership experience than the PizzaRita manager.

  May I continue?

  I’ve heard reports of Vice President Eric Johnson not being included in the President’s advisory meetings. Apparently, Johnson secretly harbors disdain for his President and cannot wait to get out from under his power. Johnson has been open about his future goal of being the next President, apparently he’s tired of the disrespect. Who would have thought? The President’s refusal to endorse a man who has worked under him diligently for eight years is a clear slap in the face. Watt is too busy creating jobs for his friends to make this country better. He’s over it.

  One more.

  I’ve heard reports of soldiers entering Salt Lake City two nights ago. But I haven’t heard about them coming back. So either the terrorists are more dangerous than we’re told, or they’re not in a hurry to beat the deadline. My reports said there were over five thousand soldiers. Where are they?

  Where have the heroes gone?

  Our nation, once proud and hardworking, has been reduced to a memory of power. Even now, mere hours away from being bombed by the world police, we still believe we have the upper hand.

  After today, everything changes. Everything.

  And all I can do is keep asking myself the same question.

  Where have the heroes gone?

  Be Radical.

  -bc

  ********

  Jake

  7:32 a.m. (Mountain time)

  Brigham City, UT

  Jake was awakened by the sound of keys clanging against the steel bars. He slept in a jail cell overnight for the first time since college. Apparently, the Commander never found anything and didn’t have the courtesy to release Jake to go back to the hotel. This had to be some kind of violation against his constitutional rights.

  It was Corporal Afu unlocking his cell. “Mr. Overman, it’s time to go.” There was sweat on her forehead as she pulled the noisy steel open. “I’m so sorry about this. If it weren’t for your friend, we would’ve forgotten you down here.”

  “What friend?” Jake leaned up, excited.

  “I think her name was Molly. She showed up just before we left.”

  “Left? Where is your Commander?”

  “Commander Jones never came back last night. We think it’s because of the new declaration this morning, hopefully.”

  “Declaration?”

  Corporal Afu was shocked by the question. “They’re bombing Utah. All of it. The whole state is at a wide scale evacuation. Almost every soldier left before sunrise.”

  “Where do we go? Who is—”

  “Your friend can answer those questions, but we need to go. Do you have all of your belongings?”

  “I do,” Jake answered, following her up the stairs and into the lobby. She mo
ved fast. His ankle was still too tender to speed walk. He pulled up his shirt, exposing his black and blue ribs.

  “Gross!” Molly shouted, from the other side of the office. Jake pulled his shirt down and smiled.

  “Thank you for coming,” Jake said. Corporal Afu disappeared, Jake looked around for her, but could only hear her rummaging through an office. “What’s happening?”

  “We need to go, I can answer those questions in the car.”

  *******

  Conrad

  1009 (Eastern time)

  Washington DC

  The Omega Initiative was formulated by President Watt on the day he was sworn into office nearly eight years ago. President Watt didn’t trust the United Nations and devised a Machiavellian plan in case there was a twenty four hour decree. This shouldn’t have surprised Conrad; the President always moved three steps ahead of his enemies, particularly those who weren’t yet opposition.

  Sudan, Kuwait, and Mongolia were the previous three countries brought under charges by the United Nations. The UN standards for the twenty four hour decree are vague and leave too much to Ugo Ban’s interpretation. In short, once a country is known to harbor a terrorist organization, and has shown a clear inability (or, as in Kuwait’s case, a reluctance) to remove the terrorists on their own efforts, then the United Nations would issue a twenty four hour warning. If the country fails to remove the threat within twenty four hours, then the United Nations will eradicate the threat with mass warfare.

  The decree was a little known addendum added in 1987 titled The Anti-Terrorism Treatise. It wasn’t utilized until 1994 after Mongolian terrorists blew up a Japanese embassy. Newly appointed Secretary-General Ugo Ban issued a public declaration to fight back against terrorists with force. The Mongolian Prime Minister responded by shrugging his shoulders and saying there was nothing Mongolia could do. The following day, Ban issued the first twenty four hour decree.

  No one batted an eye, until the timer ran out. It wasn’t until then that the shockwaves reverberated through the world as the United Nations bombed every location of rumored encampments. Harmless villages were turned into wastelands. Cities were desolated. During that time, Conrad was a rising Colonel who thought it was exactly what the world needed. Finally, someone fought fire with bigger fire. The innocent people who were collateral damage didn’t die in vain. Their death also led to the destruction of a homegrown terrorist sect. Ugo Ban stood in front of the press and said as much. He labeled them martyrs. Humanitarians from all over the world supported his actions. The public never looked back since.

  That was, until the twenty four hour decree was directed at Sudan. President Watt and his team were heroic in their ability to infiltrate Sudan and remove the terrorists in full while also supplying proof to the United Nations. Ugo Ban removed the decree in the twenty-third hour. This created a new public perception, one that placed the UN as pseudo-philanthropic hall monitors while the USA became the heroes.

  Because of American efforts, Sudan was saved from the largest bombing in world history and the UN looked bad. Secretary Ban publicly praised the US, but never buried the hatchet with Uriah.

  This was the beginning factor in President Watt developing Omega.

  As he sat with President Watt, Conrad learned a secret aspect of the Anti-Terrorism Treatise; the country’s leader will be pulled out of power. Conrad never realized this; it’s a hidden detail only shared with the guilty country. Despite being sworn to secrecy, President Watt’s relationship with the Sudanese President opened the doors to the information. President al-Hassan stepped down without a fight, despite avoiding the attack. Kuwait’s leader was removed by force. The Mongolian Prime Minster died tragically in a car accident.

  President Watt believed this was no mere coincidence.

  He formulated Omega, which is beginning to take full effect. Omega, at its core, is a reset button in light of the twenty four hour decree. The decision to remove Joseph Beck and Christopher Martin, as well as the attempt to remove Marcel Reyes, was to prevent the leak of US failures against the Subas. Omega wouldn’t work without national trust. It was better to break a few eggs than throw out the whole omelet.

  President Watt received the decree from the UN, fifteen hours ago. Red Wave was a failure. Black Tide resulted in fifteen thousand dead American soldiers. President Watt has chosen to relinquish the timeline and allow the UN to essentially finish what both Red Operations started. The only drawback is President Watt must be forced out of office.

  Unless he was assassinated.

  President Watt named Conrad Greene the Constitutional General of Armed Forces. A resounding vote of support from the House of Representatives placed Conrad as third in the Presidential line of succession. Meaning, if Watt is assassinated, Conrad becomes the Vice President and VP Eric Johnson becomes President.

  “Now you’re sounding like my wife, Greeny,” Watt said. “She thinks Eric is too power hungry for his own good.”

  “In my defense, sir, how many times has Dawn been wrong? His ambition doesn’t match up with his talent. Placing him as the leader is a risky move.”

  “Well, if you would have been my Vice President, then this wouldn’t have happened. So now, you’re going to have to babysit him and put out the fires.”

  “I don’t like it, sir.”

  “The avalanche has already begun, Greeny. You’re vital to this working out. I know I can trust you.” President Watt told him, and patted him on the back. “The UN should give new President Johnson time to recover after the assassination. If the UN decides to remove him, Eric Johnson will step down without bloodshed. He lacks the backbone to stand up against the UN.”

  The possible domino effect would result in Conrad Greene being President as the dust settles.

  President Watt will remain in a secure location, while the public believes he died at the hands of terrorism for sixty days. For two months, the country will mourn their fallen leader and unite together in the height of a war they don’t understand. All contact will be severed from those close to him, including First Lady Dawn Watt.

  All for the sake of American Security.

  After the sixty days have passed, President Watt will return to the public eye healthy and prepared to help advise the new President-elect.

  Conrad was to return to Pennsylvania until the President’s assassination. He needed to be far away from the White House during the final phase of Omega.

  He didn’t agree, but he followed orders nonetheless.

  *******

  Seth Porter/Gregory Hart

  11:01 a.m. (Eastern time)

  Mill Creek Hollow, PA

  Smells became one of Greg’s purest enjoyments. A week ago Greg’s nasal cavity was crushed by a stone-faced model. His nose was shattered, his taste buds ruined, and his sense of smell disappeared. If it would have remained untreated, it may have healed improperly and his senses would never return. It was a real possibility, until three days later Adam healed him.

  The fresh scents of the mountain air smoothed their way into Greg’s nostrils. If the smell had a soundtrack, it would be a nearby stream. Greg planned on walking to the stream before nightfall. He couldn’t wait to splash his face with spring water and let all the smells soak into him.

  Reyes busied himself examining the perimeter to ensure their safety. This was unlikely since they were in a secluded area in which Greene assured them was confidential. However, Greg appreciated Reyes and his attention to detail.

  “Hey Seth, come take a look at this,” Reyes shouted from a nearby hill. It took Greg a moment to remember his fake name. Greg, or Seth, walked over to Reyes and searched the surrounding area. Reyes was crouched down with a look of concern on his face, but Greg saw nothing. There were trees sprouting fresh greens and moss growing on the ground, but zero irregularities.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Reyes surveyed the stream. “Look up.”

  Above Greg hung thick pieces of rope, with a tarp in the middle, ti
ed to four trees. Greg estimated it to be hanging over thirty feet in the air, nearly invisible unless you are searching. “It’s an observation perch. I’ve never seen one this high up, but it’s built for surveillance.” Reyes crunched a leaf in his hand and threw it to the side. “Someone’s waiting for Conrad to return. We’re not alone.”

  “Who? Couldn’t this belong to Conrad?”

  “Doubtful.”

  All of a sudden, paranoia set in and Greg felt eyes watching him from surrounding trees. Someone was hiding in the distance. A potential foil to his plan. Someone wanted to interrupt Greg’s first meeting with Conrad as he continued to follow Adam’s path. Neither Adam nor Reba mentioned anyone getting in the way. Yet, it appeared there was a threat.

  If it were not discussed, did it signify Adam wasn’t prepared for everything? Did the seemingly omnipotent Alpha have a flaw after all?

  Doubtful.

  Greg decided to listen to Reyes but trust in Adam’s plan. He would be fine.

  *******

  Mickey Kyle

  Daylight

  Eastbound

  She could have done something, anything. Anything would have been better than watching Asher and Shelly get murdered. She was supposed to know things, but she either didn’t know, or didn’t care. Why? What answer would she give, whenever she finally spoke? Mickey wanted to hear what she had to say, instead the rest of the drive was silent.

  Mickey was just as much to blame as her, though. At his core, Mickey felt the weight of regret for another failure. He had the Pulse, at least that’s what Mona said. Of course, Mickey didn’t trust her quite as much anymore. Maybe he just had insomnia after a severe case of static electricity. Maybe zapping the dog was luck before because, whatever it was, Mickey couldn’t do it again. And Shelly died because of it.

  Nino handed Marshall a phone. “It’s him.”

  “Good morning, sir. We’re two hours away… Yes, sir… No, sir… I don’t have access to him. He’s not exactly carrying his cell phone… There is nothing I can do, sir… You made the decision, not me… Sir… Sir… Can we have this conversation in person… yes, sir… yes, sir…. I understand… he’s no good to Omega if he’s dead, is he? Fine. Yes, sir. What time? That soon? What do you need from me? Yes, I’ll be there… Four survivors. Good luck, sir.”