Tumble: The 35th Parallel
by Bob TriggsPublish: Sep 25, 2019Series: TumbleThriller Suspense Science Fiction Book Overview
Cobra invited ten friends to a meeting in his apartment, each one possessing a skill set that could help them get across the 35th parallel. President Sinclair had taken premeditated measures to establish a 3,000-mile-long militarized border from the east coast to the west. The move was executed with perfection, and every north-south bound road was blocked by tanks and military trucks in a coordinated maneuver that took less than five minutes. Railway companies were given notice to terminate their services at the last station before the 35th parallel, and the bomb squad blew the lines apart. In a somber TV and radio broadcast, Sinclair announced the implementation of the 35th parallel an hour earlier, and the nation has been divided into two. Travel between the north and south is now prohibited.
Cobra was uneasy about a two-mile-wide buffer zone that ran across the country on the north side of the boundary. Sinclair proclaimed the strip of land was now the property of the US Military, and anyone entering the region would be trespassing. It was protected by motion detectors and patrolled by helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft fitted with infra-red sensors.
The initial plan was to get everything together and leave on Saturday, but that was thwarted by the narcissistic CEO of City Investment Bank, the largest financial corporation in the US. In a bold move, Jeffrey Burnham held the country hostage demanding the White House arrange for a plane to fly him into the south. Sinclair pulls an unconstitutional double bluff on Burnham. Jacko and his biker gang take a ride through the deserted city to Burnham’s home. He is known to have transferred a half billion in cash to his bank account in Los Angeles, and Cobra was intent on getting a cut.
Arnie and Chavez are assigned to seek amnesties with New York Street gangs and invite them to join their quest to get into the twilight zone. Cobra felt it would give them a sense of purpose because he had a premonition that within the next twenty-four hours, the streets would be running with blood. A street gang wouldn’t be a match against the US Army, but Mother Nature has a strategy that works for him. With methodical precision, she has been taking out the technological infrastructure, starting with the satellite networks and spreading to cellphones before starting on the Internet. There is still a connection through Central and South America, but it is beginning to break down between the US, Europe, and Asia. Cobra thinks this might be to their advantage if they tried to cross miles from anywhere. There might be fewer soldiers in the more isolated stretches, and the inability to communicate swiftly may give them enough time to slip across the border.
Gary’s comrade stationed at Staten Island Armory has loaded five vans with military-grade weaponry and ammunition. Cobra, Thelma, Byron, Scooter, and Trevor, go with Gary to drive them back.
Cobra was uncertain whether to include Linnet in the team because he is apt to making snide comments about someone in the room without addressing them directly, often with scornful belligerence. He doesn’t know anyone else who drives for Amtrak, and as a train is central to his plan, he had no alternative but to rely on Linnet. However, there is no ambiguity in the Jamaican’s reluctance when he’s tasked with stealing a train at Penn Station. Cobra engages in the art of gentle persuasion and begins to lavish encouragement to boost his assurance when he realizes the hesitation is due to a paucity of self-confidence.
Their only chance of escaping New York as a team rests solely in Linnet’s hands. There won’t be a second chance if he fails.
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THE 35TH PARALLEL is the third book in the Tumble Series and a direct continuation of an ongoing saga. It is highly recommended that new bibliophiles read The Andaman Event and then The Golden Capricorn first.
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Thelma walks along the corridor to Ada O’Grady’s apartment and lets herself in with a spare key. She had been a lifelong friend to Cobra’s grandmother, and Thelma stops by twice a day to check on the eighty-five-year-old and to see if she needs any shopping picked up from the store.
“Mrs. O’Grady,” she calls as she steps inside the hallway. “It’s only me.”
The older woman is in the living room watching the news on the television, and she responds in a weak, tremulous voice. “Come in, dear.”
Thelma sits down on the couch beside her. “Are you okay, hun?”
She appears confused and continues to stare at the images on the TV. “Is this real, or is it a flick?”
“It’s happening for reals, honey, and it isn’t safe to stay here in New York anymore.”
Ada’s lips start trembling, but she keeps her eyes glued to the television screen. “I wish my Brian were here,” she says, referring to her late husband. “He would know what to do.”
“Don’t worry; we’re going to take you somewhere safe.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Her eyes are tired and expressionless. “This is my home.”
“We’re not leaving you behind, Mrs. O’Grady.”
Ada is a proud and fiercely stubborn woman; tough, resilient, and unafraid to speak her mind, and Thelma is primed for an obdurate resistance, so she’s surprised at the unexpected ease with which she concedes. “I know it won’t do me any good to argue with you.” She pauses for several seconds. “Can I bring two suitcases?”
“Of course, you can. I’ll help you pack.”
Ada’s mood suddenly becomes intransigent, congruent to the Mrs. O’ Grady that Thelma has always known. “No—I’ll do it myself. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but you’ll only do it wrong, and I won’t know where to find anything when I want it. Now, my dear, don’t fuss over me. Go home and come back when you’re ready to leave.”
“But I—”
She cuts Thelma off in a sharp voice. “I’m not an invalid. Now go—I’ll be done in an hour.”
Thelma returns to her apartment and heads for the bedroom, where she begins to pack a suitcase for Cobra and herself. She has no idea what lies ahead, where they will end up, or if they will ever find a way to cross the border once they are there, but she understands the practicality of sensible clothing and the necessity to travel light. Mother Nature is reclaiming the planet, and while it will take mega-annums to strip away the evidence of humanity’s existence and heal the scars, the earth will one day be pure again.
Cobra is still in the dining room with Byron, and she hears the excited but muffled voices of the newscasters and reporters through the bedroom wall as she packs two suitcases with shorts, jeans, tee shirts, and underwear. An hour later, she carries the luggage into the hall and sits them on the floor close to the front door, but rather than join the two men, she goes online to see if she can dig up some general information on the defenses along the thirty-fifth parallel. She can’t zero in on a specific region without knowing where they’ll end up, and so she concentrates on the places where the main railway lines intersect with the new border. However, her efforts fail to yield any satisfactory results.
The telephone begins to chirp, and Thelma calls out to Cobra without looking up from the monitor. “Can you answer that, hun?”
He walks into the living room and picks up the receiver. “Yeah.”
Thelma shakes her head with a tiny smile on her lips. He never introduces himself when he answers the phone, and he once told her, “whoever is on the other end can distinguish the difference between a male and a female voice, so it has to be either you or me.” She could never come up with a reasonable argument against his logic.
“How many?” Thelma can only hear one side of the conversation, but she perceives a heightened level of alertness in his tone. “How much time do we have?” He pauses. “All right—we’re on our way.”
Cobra replaces the handset, and she swivels in the chair to look at him. “What’s—” but she is cut off by another incoming call, and he snatches the phone up again.
“Yeah.”
Byron appears in the doorway. He rests his right shoulder against the jamb, hands in his pockets, and crosses his legs at the ankles. She gives him a weak smile, which he returns, but neither of them talks over her boyfriend.
“Excellent! Listen, man, go straight to Penn, but be careful. The situation in the streets is deteriorating much faster than any of us expected, and clusters of small gangs are springing up throughout the city and attacking people without provocation.” There is a short pause while he listens to the caller. “I’ve heard zip from Chavez or Arnie, but we’ve got to bounce soon, so I’ll leave a recorded message for them on the voice mail.”
He hangs up and turns to look at Thelma. “What’re you doing, sweetheart?”
“I’m trying to dig up some info on the border defenses.”
“You don’t have time. We’ve got to hit it.”
“When?”
“Now.”
“Something has just caused a huge explosion at the CIB headquarters,” Byron interjects.
“Well, we know Burnham isn’t in the building,” Cobra says. “Jacko has detained him in Hempstead with his family—plus twenty million in cash.”
“Wow!” Thelma exclaims in a soft voice.
“The first call was from Scooter,” Cobra continues, and he looks at Byron. “He’s at the Staten Island Armory with Gary and Trevor. His buddy has five van loads of weapons and ammo, so we need to go over there to drive two of them back, but we’ve got to hurry.”
Thelma gets up from her chair. “What about Mrs. O’Grady?”
Cobra stares at her with a blank expression on his face. “Damn, I forgot about her.” He pauses for a few seconds. “All right, this is what we’ll do—we’ll drop you and Ada off at Penn Station, and then Byron and I will shoot on over to hook up with Scooter.”
“Why don’t you two go straight over there from here? I’ll order a taxi for Ada and myself.”
“No. You won’t be able to find one with everything that’s going on outside. We’ll ride in Byron’s truck. He has super-cab, so you and I can squeeze in behind the front seats.”
It is a pivotal moment for Thelma and engulfed by a sudden surge of emotion at the stark reality of just how uncertain their future is, she turns her head to hide the tears in her eyes from her boyfriend. “I’ll go and get her now,” she says. She picks up her purse and takes out the key for Ada’s residence. “Don’t forget the suitcases. I’ve put them in the hall.”
Thelma slips out of the apartment and walks along the corridor to Mrs. O’Grady’s home. She hesitates at the door because it is slightly ajar, and she’s sure she had locked it when she left two hours earlier. Her heart begins to beat hard as she cautiously pushes it open. It is dark inside, and a chilling tingle crawls over her skin. The lamp in the hallway is never turned off for any reason, and she flips the switch to check whether the bulb has blown. It lights up.
The haunting sound of Gregorian music drifts out from the living room. It isn’t unusual for Ada to listen to the mournful chants. As a rule, she reserves the pleasure for a religious celebration, the anniversary of her husband’s death, or for some other memorable date on her calendar. Today would certainly qualify.
She calls out so as not to frighten her. “Mrs. O’Grady? It’s me—Thelma.”
There is no reply, but that isn’t atypical either because she often falls asleep on the sofa when she’s listening to a CD. Thelma pushes the door open, and her anxiety dissipates when she sees Ada sitting back in an armchair with her arms wrapped around an artist’s portrait of her late husband. She has a tiny but contented smile on her lips, and she looks so peaceful in her slumber that Thelma feels guilty about disturbing her.
She speaks in a louder voice. “It’s time to go, hun.”
Ada is unresponsive, and Thelma takes a couple of paces forward. A small table is next to the chair on the right, and an envelope propped against the portable CD player draws her attention. Thelma is scrawled across the front in large, uneven lettering, and the skin starts crawling up her arms. Thelma places a hand on the pensioner’s shoulder and gives it a gentle shake, but when Ada doesn’t awaken, she timidly lays two fingers over the jugular vein to the left of her windpipe and presses in gently. Ada’s skin is warm to the touch, but her throat constricts when she can’t feel a pulse. Thelma is overwhelmed by a sudden combination of shock and grief, and dropping to her knees in front of the old lady, she leans forward and wraps her arms around the dead woman’s neck with her head resting on her upper chest. Thelma begins to weep uncontrollably for several minutes before she sits back, wipes the tears from her eyes, and glances around. Four empty prescription vials are top of the table, and she picks up one of the bottles to read “Temazepam 30mg” printed on the labels. Where, in the name of hell, did she get these?
She considers turning the CD player off but changes her mind when she notices the glow of the replay indicator. Instead, she opens the envelope and, still sniffling, she pulls out a single piece of paper, unfolds it, and reads the handwritten note.
My Dearest Thelma,
I hope you understand, but this is my home, and I’m too old to start a new life. It’s time for me to join Brian in Heaven. God blessed the day you and Cobra came together, and his grandmother would have been so proud of you. When we meet in the afterlife, I will be able to reassure her over a cup of tea that her grandson has found the perfect woman to grow old with. It will be like old times. I’m grateful for the joy that both of you have given me, and the selfless care and affection you bestowed on me even as the dusk turned to darkness. Life is unkind, and I have no wish to be a burden on anyone. I pray your future will not be bleak and cruel, and one day, with God’s grace, we’ll meet again once you’ve lived a long, fulfilling life. Love, Ada O’Grady. xx
Thelma lays her head in Ada’s lap and begins to weep again, but her grieving is interrupted by Cobra’s voice floating in through the open door.
“Hey, you two, we’ve got to get going.”
She slowly stands, her eyes still glued on Ada. Her lips are dry, and she moistens them with a lick before she answers. “We’re in the living room.”
He appears in the doorway, and there is a sense of urgency in his tone. “Come on, we can’t waste any more time—” and he trails off. “What’s going on?” He walks up from behind, and she turns to face him. “She’s not … she isn’t—” but he chokes on his words.
Thelma lays her head on his chest and starts crying again. “We don’t even have time to give her a decent funeral,” she bawls between sobs.
Cobra puts his arms around her shoulders and holds her close without speaking.