Lucas and Evie: A Farpointe Initiative Origin Story Read online

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lucas And Evie

  A Farpointe Initiative Origin Story

  By Aaron Hubble

  Copyright © 2015 by Aaron Hubble

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, and events appearing or described in this work are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events, is purely coincidental and the product of imagination.

  The Farpointe Initiative Series

  Ash - Book One

  Sojourners - Book Two

  Lucas and Evie - An Origin Story

  All available here: http://goo.gl/g7WiWU

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  www.aaronhubble.com

  Dedication

  To Tracie,

  Thank you for your unwavering support.

  You are my Evie.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Earth - 2105 A.D. (Four years before the events of Ash) - What was formerly Chicago

  Lucas' frustration flared nearly as hot as the plasma cutter slicing a hole through the steel tomb he and his team had found themselves in.

  "One job. You had one job," he said from behind the handkerchief tied around his face. He leveled a withering stare at Bobby. "All you had to do was read the shipping manifesto and locate a container stacked on the outside of the grid, but no, you found one that was on the inside."

  "Boss, I looked at the paperwork. Double-checked it..."

  Lucas turned off the cutter and held up his hand stopping Bobby. The burly, young man shrank into the corner. "Stop talking. Your voice is giving me a headache." He waved, clearing some of the smoke away, and coughed. "Even if we make it out of this alive, we may never be able to take a deep breath again."

  "Nineteen minutes, Luke," Paul said, tapping his watch in the soft glow of his LED headlamp. "Get the show on the road or we'll miss our opportunity. The guards will be off break soon and starting their rounds again."

  Lucas nodded at the older man. He'd padded the timeline for this heist just in case something happened, but he hadn't expected quite this big of a 'something'. The cutter flared to life again and he went back to work. Red-hot slag fell to the floor, hissing. The rough circle was nearly complete, and he hoped there wasn't a second container stacked on top of this one. The power level in the cutter was at thirty-nine percent. That wasn't enough to cut through another layer of steel.

  "Hey, kid, time to redeem yourself. Push up on the circle while I finish the cut and get it out of the way," Lucas said to Bobby.

  Bobby braced his hands on the ceiling. Lucas traced the last bit of the circle, finishing their escape route. Bobby grunted and his arms quivered as he took all of the weight of the steel. With a push, he managed to get the circle out of the container. It clanked against the top. Fresh air flowed in, making Lucas sigh.

  "Looks like we won't be permanent residents after all." He grinned and slapped Bobby on the shoulder. "Grab your gear. The clock's ticking, our customers are waiting, and the CPF has what we need." He pulled a black mask over his face. "Give me a boost," he said to Bobby.

  Bobby pushed Lucas up and through the hole. A vast warehouse stretched before him filled with a massive grid of shipping containers. He shook his head, and looked back into the hole.

  "Not even close. We're almost in the dead center. How did you manage that?" he asked Bobby. The young man started to speak and Lucas held up his hand again. "Never mind. Just get up here. We're behind schedule."

  "Fourteen minutes, Luke," Paul chimed in.

  The large cloud of smoke from the plasma cutter followed Paul and Bobby out of the container.

  "That's going to be a problem," Lucas said, watching the plume drift toward the ceiling. "I hope you brought a towel, because we may get wet."

  They jogged across the metal boxes toward the last row of containers. Lucas had memorized the layout of the building and knew the medical supplies were kept in a locked room, located at the northwest corner of the warehouse.

  As he ran, he thought about the huge amount of food, medicine, and other items kept in the warehouse. People were starving in the streets, yet they would see none of this bounty. All of this was destined for the CPF government cities, the gleaming metropolises' that had grown out of the soil of an Earth ravaged by disease and war. The CPF said the cities were their salvation, that prosperity and hope would spread from them like new growth in the springtime. Lucas jumped over the space between two containers and felt his disgust border on rage. The only people who ever benefited from the cities were those the CPF deemed important enough to allow in, or those who had given up their freedom and taken menial jobs in exchange for a scrap of bread.

  Lucas didn't blame those people. Watching your family starve makes a person desperate.

  He scrambled off the edge of the container. As his boots touched the concrete, a deafening alarm blared and the fire suppression system came to life. Water rained from the ceiling.

  "Beautiful," he grumbled.

  Behind him he heard the grunt of Paul dropping to the floor. Lucas waved his friends forward.

  "We'll need to do this in record time. The guards' break time just ended."

  He sprinted across the floor and skidded to a stop in front of a gray door. He tried the handle. Irrationally, he hoped it was unlocked, but he wouldn't be that lucky. Not today.

  From a pocket on his vest he pulled several small tools and set to work on the lock. Paul and Bobby began assembling the drone that would carry the contraband out of the warehouse to the drop-off point where Evie would retrieve it and take it back to the hideout.

  He wiped oily water from his eyes, twisted his tool slightly, and felt it resist. His frustration mounted.

  "Nine minutes, Luke. Get it this time or we'll need to bug out."

  As he took a deep breath into his lungs, a picture of his wife came into his head. He smiled at the thought of Evie.

  With a slight twist the lock clicked. Grinning, he turned the knob and the door swung open revealing a room stocked with enough antibiotics to liberate hundreds of children from sicknesses they shouldn't have. He clenched his fist. The CPF had the ability to make a difference, yet they chose to help only a select few.

  There was no time to rehash what was wrong with the government. He pulled several boxes of medicine from the shelf and handed them to Paul. The alarms blaring urged him to move faster.

  He was about to shut the supply room door and help finish with the drone when several marked boxes grabbed his attention. He opened one and found himself looking at the grips of ten new, military grade pistols. Lucas hesitated. The price for weapons like this on the street would get him closer to buying back his sister's freedom.

  "Boss, what are you doing?" Paul asked. "We're going to have company anytime now. It's time to go."

  Lucas stuffed five of the pistols into his backpack. "I found a little bonus in this locker."

  Paul saw the pistols and groaned. "Come on, Luke. You kno
w we don't deal in weapons. Too easy to trace. Your rule, remember?"

  "When family is involved, rules can be bent." He zipped up the pack and looked at Bobby. "Get that bird in the air."

  Bobby stashed the medicine in the drone. The blades whirred to life, and it rocketed upward toward the ceiling of the warehouse and out through an open air handling duct. Lucas breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at his two partners.

  "Good work. Now, let's get out of here before we run into company we'd rather not keep."

  They jogged out of the supply room, splashing through the puddles. Lucas turned the corner into the larger warehouse and light exploded in his head. He crashed to the concrete floor. Pain radiated over his face and jaw. He rolled over, trying to figure out what had just hit him. A pair of black boots appeared in front of him and then the looming figure of a CPF soldier. A boot swung and connected with his ribs, forcing all of the air out of his lungs. Lucas tried to cry out, but the pain was too intense. All he could do was curl into a ball and try to protect his head.

  "Lucas!" he heard Paul yell.

  The soldier raised his baton for another blow. A figure streaked in, knocking the guard to the ground. Lucas was able to see Bobby grappling with the soldier. They tumbled across the concrete floor in a desperate battle.

  Paul helped Lucas up just as two more guards entered the warehouse. Gunshots echoed through the cavernous building and bullets whizzed off the concrete, sending up small chips. Paul dragged Lucas behind several shipping containers out of the line of fire.

  "We've got to help Bobby," Lucas wheezed.

  Paul poked his head around the edge of the container. "We will."

  He tossed a small round ball toward the guards and turned his head away from the action. A bright flash of light lit up the warehouse, blinding the guards. Paul left Lucas behind the container and sprinted toward the disabled pair. Aiming a small pistol at them, he incapacitated both with a stun charge.

  Grasping his side, Lucas limped toward the scrum that was Bobby and the guard. The two rolled across the warehouse floor, a tangle of arms and legs with neither seeming to gain control. The guard's baton was lying in a puddle. Lucas picked it up and advanced on the struggling pair. He saw an opening and swung. A dull crack told him he'd made solid contact with the back of the man's head.

  The guard howled in pain. Bobby took the advantage, rolled on top of the man, and pinned him to the floor. Paul arrived and shot the man with a stun charge. He spasmed once and then lay still.

  Bobby rolled to the side and gasped. They all took a deep breath as water continued to cascade from the ceiling. Lucas picked up his backpack, and the trio jogged out of the warehouse. Each step was like a knife jabbing into his ribs.

  "Hope those guns are worth the trouble," Paul said at his side.

  Lucas remained silent as they exited the building and ran toward the truck hidden in the small woods.

  For family, every risk was worth it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Thin, vaporous clouds moved across the nearly full moon. Evie watched, trying to distract her thoughts from the glaring fact that the drone was fifteen minutes late. She hated this part of her life, the waiting, which always led to worry about what might have happened. Just the idea of losing Lucas made her sick to her stomach. For the hundredth time that night, she tried to relegate the worry to a place in her mind where she couldn't find it.

  A long time ago, loss had sent her on a downward spiral, leaving her drug-addled and living on the streets. She had a feeling that hell would pale in comparison to the blackness she would descend into if Lucas didn't come home one day.

  Most likely she was worrying for nothing. The boys were probably home having a victory drink and reliving the night's events. Yes, that was where they were. Paul, with his feet up on the table; Bobby, his bulk squished into the corner, taking it all in; and her Lucas, pouring the black market beer into glasses.

  A soft tone came from the pocket of her jacket. She retrieved the palm-sized tablet and swiped the screen. It was a notification that the drone had set down at its preprogrammed coordinates, just like they had planned...and 17 minutes late. Evie silently emerged from her hiding spot in what had been a child's playhouse. She walked past a row of empty houses, their shutters hanging askew and the glassless windows staring like black eyes, watching what she was doing.

  Wading through knee-high grass, she stepped over a broken fence and into a wide-open space that had once been a park. Now it was nothing but a fallow, overgrown field of weeds and discarded trash. The park, and the houses that surrounded it, hadn't been used in a long time. Not since the world had changed. Not since everyone had died.

  Evie found the drone nestled in the tall grass, its cargo safely stowed inside. She broke the drone down with practiced efficiency and stowed it into the backpack she'd carried over her shoulder. Into a second bag she carefully placed the precious medical supplies. Now it would be her job to get the medicine to her buyer.

  She hesitated for several minutes, listening for any sounds and scanning the deserted park for signs that someone might be following her. The last thing they needed was someone trailing her and finding their hideout.

  Evie checked the stun pistol strapped to her hip. It was fully charged and loose in its holster. There was a good possibility that she would run into trouble. The places she needed to travel through were not the safest, but at least they weren't patrolled by the CPF.

  The privileged citizens knew very little about life outside of the shiny government cities. The conditions in the burned-out and bombed areas that were still inhabited would make them blush as they ate their meat and fresh vegetables.

  Giving up her freedom to live in one of the CPF cities wasn't worth it to Evie. The price was too heavy.

  Satisfied that she was ready whatever might come, she shouldered the backpack containing the medication, cinched up the straps, and took off at a brisk jog, the moon her sole companion.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  An hour later she stood in front of a dilapidated machine shop. After ducking through a hole in the chain link fence, she walked to the back of the building and rolled aside a pallet of rusty metal parts, revealing a hidden stairway to their basement home and base of operations.

  She keyed in the code to unlock the door, and it swung in on noiseless hinges. Evie stepped into a large room that served many purposes. Part workshop, part training center, and part merchandise holding area, this room served as the hub of their little business. She opened the backpack, removed the medication, and placed it into cold storage, where it would stay until they were able to deliver it to a buyer.

  Often they knew very little about their buyers, and never met face-to-face. Drop-off areas were much safer for everyone. As she turned from the cold storage unit, Evie's eyes immediately went to the coat hooks on the far wall, and she breathed a sigh of deep relief. Lucas' black fatigue vest was hanging beside the door. She hurried across the room, dodging pieces of stray equipment in various stages of repair, and burst through the door in the far wall. There on the sofa lay her very bruised and bloodied husband.

  "Lucas!" Evie gasped. "Oh, baby, what happened?"

  "It's not as bad as it looks," Lucas said. He winced when he tried to sit up and then fell back onto the couch. "Okay, I lied. It's as bad as it looks."

  Evie knelt beside the worn sofa they had rescued from an abandoned house. "What happened?" she asked again, running her hand through his blood-encrusted hair while examining his bruised face.

  "You need to promise me that you won't get the way you always do when I tell the story."

  "I only get that way when you take unnecessary risks, which seems to happen often." She wet a washcloth and began to clean the blood from his face. He grimaced when she touched his left eye. It was beginning to swell shut.

  He took a shallow breath and grasped his ribs. "Things didn't go well from the get-go. The kid put us in the wrong container, so we ended up improvising, which set off t
he fire alarms. Not that I didn't need a bath, but that wasn't the right time or place. We got the drone off with the supplies just fine, and we were headed out of the shipping area when I saw the weapons locker."

  "But we don't sell weapons."

  "I know, I know, but all I could think about was how much money we could get for them. Paul warned me that we didn't have enough time for any detours, but I didn't listen, and it gave the guards enough time to cut us off. They surprised us, and I took the brunt of their blows, as evidenced by the lovely shade of purple you see around my eye. I think it goes well with my complexion. What do you think?"

  Evie stood and placed her hands on her hips in indignation.

  "Lucas Kreg, do you have any idea what it would do to me if you were caught or killed? You never think of that when you take risks outside of the plan."

  "But..."

  "Don't interrupt me. You not only risk your life, but the lives of Bobby and Paul. Not to mention all the people counting on us to deliver supplies they need. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with your nonsense. I'll be old before my time."

  "I liked you better when you were concerned for my welfare."

  "Cut the sarcasm, Lucas. It's that attitude that almost got you killed."

  "Look." He slowly swung his legs over the edge of the couch and stood with effort. "I take those risks because I can get away with them. I did it for Samantha. All the money from the pistols will go toward getting her out of that hell hole they call a farm. If I don't rescue her soon, she'll die there like everyone else who ends up in an ag camp."

  Evie looked at her battered husband, saw the sincerity on his face, and her anger melted away like ice on a summer day. She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him. He stiffened.

  "Don't squeeze, don't squeeze. I think my ribs are broken."