The Flashback Trilogy

Chapter 6

“There’s a reason. It’s because there’s important work that needs to be done.” He half-turned to face the others. “Isn’t that so? Isn’t there important work to be done?”

“Important work,” said a woman in a foam campaign hat, and smiled. “American work.”

“To end the Chinese Flashback,” said someone else.

“And detonate the charges,” said another. “To knock down the Array.”

I must have looked confused. “I—Okay. What’s the Array?”

He raised an eyebrow sharply. “You mean you don’t know?” He looked from me to Lazaro. “Neither of you?”

“Yeah, I know,” said Lazaro. “It—it’s a secret high-power, high-frequency transmitter ... said to be somewhere in the U.S.” He looked at his shoes as though vaguely ashamed. “Some say it’s Chinese. Others say deep state. You know ... conspiracy stuff.”

Denton just looked at him. “Conspiracy stuff,” he said. He began pacing around us. “Well, let me tell you—Lazaro from Seattle—we’ve been up there, to this so-called ‘Communications Facility,’ and there ain’t nothing normal about it; all right? Fact is, it’s been designed to look like just another antenna farm, that’s how it’s stayed hidden all these years. Another fact is: it’s home to the second High-frequency Active Auroral Research Program, or HAARP², which just happens to be what caused the Flashback.”

He circled back around to face us and paused. “Got it? That’s what started it all, see. That’s what brought hell down upon us.” When neither of us said anything, he added, “They were messing with the ionosphere, man, don’t you get it? That’s what let Them in ...” He indicated the lights in the sky, which hadn’t been particularly active since we’d left Seattle. “That’s when They became aware of us. When They—how did H.G. Wells say it? ‘Drew their plans against us.’”

Everyone seemed to look at me, I have no idea why.

“You’re f*****g crazy,” I said. “You—you’ve totally lost it.”

“Have I?”

“It’s a f*****g antenna farm, Denton!” I glanced around us at the throngs of people. “I mean, is that what you people actually believe? Christ, did it steal the election, too? Is that what kind of bullshit you’re trying to pass off?” I glared at Denton. “We’re done here. Let’s go, Lazaro.”

“Now wait just a f*****g—”

And he lunged at me—which was followed by the sound of Gargantua’s .50 caliber swinging around, locking into position. Which was followed by it ratcheting down, down, until it was trained on Denton alone.

“Nobody move!” he shouted, splaying his hands, even as there was a riot of shifting arms. “Is that clear?”

But nobody did; move, that is, not even when Lazaro and I walked back the way we had come and ascended the ramp into Gargantua; where I gave the order to retreat and go back down the hill and Sam did, operating the rover like a champ—even though she’d only driven it twice before—backing into a driveway (one I hadn’t even noticed) to reverse direction, taking us all the way to Rodgerton Street and beyond.

––––––––

“Wait, that’s Hollywood Park?”

I looked out the windshield as Sam pulled over on Canyon Lake Drive and killed the engine, which dieseled and rattled, briefly. “It’s a park, what did you expect?”

Lazaro cupped his eyes, peering out the side window. “I don’t know. Like, a statue of Marilyn Monroe; or somethin’. You know, with the wind all up in her s**t and—”

“That’s Palm Springs,” said Nigel. “‘Forever Marilyn,’ on Museum Way. You’d like it.”

“How the f**k would you know what I’d like?”

“It’s an up-skirt. Just your speed.”

“Hey, f**k you, Jamaica. Why don’t you just—”

“Alright, knock it off, both of you,” I said. “Nigel, let’s have a look at that map.”

We all gathered around as Nigel spread it between himself and Sam.

“I’m afraid it hasn’t changed much,” he said. “There’s still no road other than Mount Lee Drive. And you saw the terrain; Gargantua can’t handle that.”

“What about on foot?” I circled a tangle of residential roads with my finger. “So we know these are blocked; what if we headed northeast straight from the park and just circumnavigated the whole mess?”

“Could work, but it would take time, and we don’t know what’s in those—”

“Hills, precisely,” interjected Mr. Fantastic. “Look, see these? All these peaks and valleys? It’s like a great big washboard, right? Well, see, that’s precisely the kind of terrain welterweights like Utahraptor and Phorusrhacos love, because it allows them to herd prey into the lowlands and trap it there.”

He looked at me gravely, solemnly. “In other words, we’d be walking straight into a kill box.”

I sat back in my seat and exhaled, wondering why Roman had put me in charge in the first place, why I’d accepted. Why I’d made the decisions I’d made. Why we’d come over a thousand miles on such a fool’s errand. What I was going to tell the others back in Issaquah ...

“If we could ... if we could just move faster, maybe,” I said. “Get there before anything could triangulate us.”

Mr. Fantastic only shook his head. “No, man. No. You’re smarter than that. Turn us around, Jamie. Turn us around ... and let’s go home.”