Nolan's Ark Read online

  The luxurious surroundings were of little comfort now.

  Kasey was grateful that nobody had paid much attention to her so far. At first this had kind of freaked her out. When Blaze had forced Kasey onto Jaws she’d yelled to anyone and everyone at the top of her voice, hoping that someone would still care about a young girl being kidnapped by a pedophile. But nobody cared. They were all too damn grateful to be on Jaws to rock the boat. To raise concern about the Chief-of-Security’s behavior – that would get anyone’s ass kicked back onto the street.

  And nobody wanted to be outside.

  Fortunately Blaze was busy to hassle Kasey, at least for now. Last she knew he was upstairs discussing the campaign schedule with the President and the rest of the Secret Service.

  The next stop on the trail was Sunset Strip. The driver had called it out about five minutes ago.

  Waste of time, Kasey thought. It was all a sick and bizarre waste of time. People hadn’t listened at Melrose and they’d died horrifically for it. They hadn’t listened at any of the other stops they’d made so far either. Same thing every time. When the people realized that Rage wasn’t there to help them but instead to capture their votes in a loony election, the good folks of Hollywood had pretty much told the President – or was he ex-President already? – to go fuck himself. And although no one had blatantly accused Rage of being involved in the attacks like they had at Melrose Avenue, Kasey figured that a lot of people were thinking it.

  Kasey sat back and watched as the hangers on who’d hitched a ride in Jaws went back and forth, mixing it up between the upstairs and downstairs apartments. It was like a party on wheels. The odor of smoke and hard liquor lingered in the air. Kasey recognized several famous actors and a few other celebrities who were mostly famous for being famous. There were also doll-like creatures called supermodels sitting on the downstairs couch, sipping wine and smoking weed. They gave Kasey the creeps. They looked ill and dead-eyed.

  Occasionally, small groups of people would disappear into the lower deck bedrooms. These partygoers were always laughing as they went it, like they were playing some kind of game. They’d slam the door shut and then loud, muffled hip-hop blasted out from inside the room. And other strange noises followed too – sex noises, snorting noises and more mad, raucous laughter.

  Kasey sat along, thinking about Lars and Charlie. But not too much – she couldn’t think about them too much, not now. Getting off this bus, that was the overriding priority and after she’d escaped – which she would do – she’d sit down and process what had happened to her friends. She’d cry, probably for days.

  And what about Axel. Where was he now?

  They’d taken her cellphone so that was out. It was useless anyway, having crapped out on Kasey not long after the attack. The entire grid was probably down. Even if she could find a working phone, who was Kasey supposed to call? LAPD was toast. And what would she say even if she did get through to someone that mattered? The President has kidnapped me. Yeah that one – turns out he’s actually a coke-sniffing megalomaniac, mass murderer. And his bodyguard’s a pedo. Who’d have thought it huh? Think can you help?

  Kasey squirmed in her seat. Her bladder felt like it was about to burst. She’d been holding it in for about an hour now but at last she’d reached her limit.

  She slid quietly off the Coca-Cola booth, stepping onto a narrow ceramic aisle. The aisle ran down the middle of the lower deck and its garish pattern mimicked the yellow brick road from The Wizard of Oz.

  Kasey had already tried clicking her heels together.

  There was a long, sprawling couch opposite the booths. The half-naked supermodels and everyone else on the couch were too stoned to notice Kasey walking past. They were all staring blank-faced at a giant flat screen TV attached to the wall. The news was on but there was no sound, just a conveyer belt of disturbing images coming in from all over the country – familiar American landmarks and skylines on fire, the endless smoke trails pirouetting towards the sky, and people running through the streets scared shitless, chased by monstrous dust clouds.

  Kasey looked away.

  Where was the bathroom? She didn’t want to ask any of the stoners on the couch. Probably didn’t even know their names. She thought about asking the driver – a black-suited balding man of about sixty with a face as gnarled as an old oak tree. But she decided against that too. Kasey had the feeling that the driver was the sort of guy who’d rather shoot her than help.

  She walked down the yellow brick road. The air con, a steady hum pouring out of the wall vents, provided welcome relief from the heat.

  Kasey stopped in front of a white paneled door near the front. Was this one of the bedrooms? Or was the bathroom? She put her ear to the door and couldn’t hear the hip-hop coming out of the other rooms.

  Her hand trembled over the handle.

  “Fuck it.”

  She yanked the handle down and stormed inside, head down like a charging bull. Kasey stopped dead. The urge to pee vanished like it had been a trick of the brain, a biological mirage.

  There was an assortment of colored flesh on display, bouncing around on the bed – white, black, brown flesh. Tits, asses and everything else that could be imagined. Kasey had just walked in on Jiggle City at rush hour. There were about five people crammed onto a single bed, all of them getting it on. Elsewhere, a naked thirty-something white man with a silver medallion hanging off his neck stood on the sidelines filming the action on a video camera.

  The cameraman spotted Kasey and turned towards her, his thing dangling in midair. He grinned, showing off a set of Gollum-like teeth that turned Kasey’s blood to ice water.

  “Want to join us?” he said.

  Kasey slammed the door shut and raced up the yellow brick road, zipping past the supermodels at high-speed. She dived into the last booth and tucked her back up against the wall again.

  “Fuck!” she said, staring down the aisle and praying to God that Gollum wouldn’t come after her.

  “I’ve gotta get outta here.”

  She jumped when she heard footsteps. But it wasn’t Gollum. After a second Kasey realized they were coming from the winding staircase that connected the upper and lower decks. A moment later, a handful of Secret Service men and women stepped off the stairs, onto the yellow brick road.

  Grim expressions all round. Seemed like smiling was a deadly sin for these people.

  Blaze appeared next, causing Kasey to shudder.

  And last of all, President Rage.

  Kasey leaned forward in her seat. She noticed a layer of white powdery dust under the President’s nose.

  “How far to Sunset Strip Mickey?” Blaze asked, leaning his massive head towards the driver.

  Mickey peered over the edge of the cabin.

  “Five minutes sir.”

  Rage stood in the aisle, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. There was a disgruntled expression on his face. “Guess I have to talk to the voters again huh? Lucky me.”

  “Yes sir,” Blaze said. He was watching the President’s collar-adjustment with fascination.

  “Creep,” Kasey whispered, glaring at the big fucker. She’d never hated anyone in her life as much as she hated Blaze. And she didn’t even know him. She only knew that he was a child-snatching pedo and that she’d gladly cut his balls – which were probably the size of space hoppers – off given half a chance.

  And he’d taken Kasey away from Axel. Now he was out there alone with no one to look after him.

  “Hasn’t gone as well as I’d hoped Blaze,” Rage said. “I don’t understand, I really don’t. Those people out there are running for their lives. I thought they’d appreciate what we’re doing for them – trying to restore law and order and reel in chaos. Who knows? Maybe given the choice, the majority of human beings prefer anarchy.”

  “Yes sir,” Blaze said.

  “Keep your eyes out front,” Rage said, his hands moving from the collar to the knot on his tie. “The natives are getting restless.”

  “I’ll take care of it sir,” Blaze said. “Don’t worry about a thing – you just concentrate on getting them to the election.”

  “What would I do without you Blaze?”

  “Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

  Rage took the stairs and behind him, Blaze signaled for two Secret Service men to accompany the President onto the roof.

  The Chief-of-Security glanced around the lower apartment. There was a puzzled expression on his face.

  “Where’s Shirley Fontaine?” he asked. “Didn’t I see here on this bus earlier? It’s about time some of these goddamn actors and singers earned their keep around here. Have they forgotten why we brought them with us in the first place? The President needs stars at his side to look good. If they’re not making him look good then they’re a dead weight.”

  Kasey’s ears pricked up. Shirley Fontaine was on Jaws? She was one of Hollywood’s most admired and enduring actresses, a forty-something woman who’d made the rare transition from youthful beauty to older, credible roles. She’d recently been nominated for an Oscar for her role as a one-legged frontierswoman in PegLeg. Kasey had loved that movie. She’d dragged the three boys to see it at the ArcLight and even though none of them would admit it she was sure they’d enjoyed it too. Especially Charlie. Such a sensitive boy.

  She shook her head. Later.

  One of the Secret Service agents, a squareheaded woman with a jawline as wide as her forehead, pointed towards the bedroom doors.

  “Fontaine’s in one of those I think,” the squarehead said. “Screwing like it was the end of the world.”

  Blaze growled.

  “Pete!”

  One of the black suits, a young man with sandy blond hair, scurried over to Blaze. Pete was around six foot tall with b
ig linebacker shoulders. Even though he was probably about thirty he possessed the features of a fresh-faced kid straight out of high school.

  “Yes sir,” he barked.

  “Round up the high-profile trophies,” Blaze said. “Tell them to clean up and to get to work. We’re taking Sunset Strip in five minutes. C’mon people, we’ve got an election to win.”

  “Yes sir!” Pete said.

  Pete didn’t disappoint. He charged up and down the yellow brick road like he’d just installed fresh batteries up his ass. His giant fist slammed against the three bedroom doors, his voice battling against the thumping hip-hop.

  “Time to go to work people!” he yelled. “Clothes on. Clean up. Your President needs you kissing his ass upstairs. I’m coming in there in one minute and I want to see you sodomites looking respectable for the American public.”

  Pete then went upstairs and did exactly the same thing. The man was tireless. As all this was taking place, Blaze approached the Coca-Cola booth where Kasey was trying to remain unseen. He sat down opposite the girl and proceeded to crack his knuckles one after the other, which made Kasey visibly wince. She’d always hated that popping sound and he wondered if somehow he knew.

  “Why am I here?” Kasey asked.

  “You’re here because I saved your life,” Blaze said. “Didn’t you see what happened to all those other people on Melrose Avenue?”

  He licked his lips thoroughly. Kasey had already noticed that Blaze had a habit of doing this a lot.

  “You’re welcome by the way,” he said. “I could just as easily have shot you in the head.”

  “Why didn’t you then?” Kasey asked.

  “And mess up that pretty face?”

  “Thanks a bunch,” Kasey said, dressing up her words in false bravado. “Can I go now?”

  Blaze’s alabaster hand slid over the table. There was a bloodstained bandage wrapped around it and he grasped at Kasey with that bloody stump, a loathsome grin on his face.

  Kasey’s arms shot off the table. “Don’t touch me you fucking creep or I’ll bite your fingers off.”

  Blaze fell back into the seat, laughing. Both hands were pressed tight against his chest. Kasey eyed the bandage with the red stain and hoped that whatever had happened, it had hurt like hell.

  “A little pushback,” Blaze said, wetting his lips again. “That’s so much more rewarding.”

  “Fuck you,” Kasey said, feeling the anger swelling up. Outsized or not, she’d break this prick’s jaw if he tried anything.

  “Sunset Strip!” Mickey called out from the driver’s seat.

  Blaze leaned over the table and blew Kasey a kiss with his bad hand. “Got to get back to work honey. But it won’t be long till we see each other again.”

  He stood up and walked down the yellow brick road. Then he climbed up the winding staircase to join Rage on the roof.

  “Sick bastard,” Kasey said.

  Pete had done a sterling job at rounding up the trophy celebrities. They’d pulled their clothes on and as Jaws slowed to a crawl on Sunset Strip the celebs were running around like worker bees who’d slept in on Monday morning.

  “Upstairs!” Pete yelled. “To the roof.”

  Kasey wandered over to the couch by the left-hand side window. Most of the supermodels and the other hangers on had vacated it thankfully, having been shepherded onto the roof.

  The TV on the wall continued to broadcast chaotic images from around the nation. But Kasey didn’t pay any attention to the box. She looked through the window and watched it live.

  Mickey slowed Jaws to a stop at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Clark Street, a stone’s throw from the legendary Whisky a Go Go music venue.

  “Jesus,” Kasey said, taking in the view.

  It was a mess out there. A thick fog drifted over Sunset Strip and Kasey figured it wasn’t a real fog, more like smoke. Dozens of abandoned cars littered the road – some of them on fire, some of them lying on their roofs as if they’d been flipped over by a pack of strongmen. Kasey saw the wheels still spinning on a freshly upturned Lincoln.

  “My fellow Americans!” Rage’s voice boomed through the megaphone. “Don’t be shy. Come over here, let us talk.”

  At first, Rage was talking to a mostly empty street. But a few minutes after Jaws’ arrival, a flock of shadowy figures began to emerge from the dark corners of the neighborhood. Some of them slipped out from behind the upturned cars. Others from inside blacked out buildings, pushing shopping carts in front of them.

  They moved cautiously across the road towards Jaws. It filled up fast. Soon there were at least a hundred people, maybe more.

  Kasey felt sick. At first she didn’t understand the sudden urge to puke but staring outside she realized what it was. This was Melrose Avenue all over again – a bigger crowd of people than they’d seen on the last two stops. What if they turned against the President too? What if they already had and this was a massacre waiting to happen?

  With a heavy heart, Kasey pressed her nose against the glass, listening to Rage’s voice on the roof.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said many times over. “I know you’re scared and hurting. You’ve lost so much and haven’t we all?”

  A pause.

  “Let me on the bus!” a young woman screamed through a mask of tears. “For the love of God, I need to get off the street or they’re going to kill me. Let me on!”

  Kasey saw her – a pretty blonde woman of about twenty, her dress ripped in several places and a fresh scar running down the side of her face. Her eyes were wide with terror.

  “But we can’t allow ourselves to become victims,” Rage said, ignoring the woman’s plea. “We must take action to prevent anarchy and further bloodshed. Decisive action that might on the surface appear counter-intuitive, but will preserve this great nation of ours for years to come.”

  Kasey sat downstairs, listening to the speech with a cold, empty feeling inside. The President was regurgitating the same verbal diarrhea he’d dropped over Melrose Avenue and all the other stops so far.

  And as she’d suspected, the crowd wasn’t having it.

  “GET US OUT OF HERE!”

  “OPEN THE DOORS AND LET US IN!”

  “I know it’s a strange time to call an election,” Rage said. “But thwarting anarchy must be our immediate priority now and we can only do that with a legitimate government in place. A legitimate government starts and ends with you the voters. I could take power, of course I could. But America is not a dictatorship and we will not – MUST NOT – descend into a lawless wasteland. If you vote for me tonight, I’ll bring America back to her feet. She’ll be strong and our enemies, who I swear have been routed, will be weak. Believe it or not, America will be stronger than ever before.”

  “And so will you asshole!” a woman shouted at Rage. “Your ass is impeached, don’t think we’ll forget what you’ve got coming!”

  “Why don’t you come down here and talk to us Rage? You want our votes but you won’t come down and shake our hands?”

  Kasey heard a silence on the roof. The response from the crowd was swift.

  “OPEN THE DOORS!”

  “HELP US!”

  Something struck the window and Kasey flinched. It was a small missile – a coin or a stone that flew over the huddle of angry bodies outside the Whiskey. It wasn’t the only one. In a matter of seconds it sounded like a flood of hailstones slamming into the side of Jaws.

  Kasey realized that she was on the inside looking out. She was inside the safety of Jaws along with the politicians, the celebrities and supermodels. And they – the people – could see her. What must she have looked like to them?

  She slid down on the couch a little, just enough to be less obvious.

  The Secret Service, who’d gathered ahead of the crowd outside, tightened their protective wall around the top half of Jaws. They stood their ground, like a human bumper pointing pistols and rifles at the dissenters. By now the missiles had stopped and the most eager rebels amongst the crowd were pushing their way to the front, trying to get closer to Rage so that he could hear them.