by Steven Smith
After a moment's hesitation, Bill handed the gun to her. "Are you sure?"
Ann nodded. "It's mine to do."
Taking the gun from her husband's hand, she walked slowly toward tats. Standing at his feet, she watched as his eyes locked on hers. He seemed to sneer until she raised the gun to point at his face. She pulled the trigger, surprised by the recoil and realized that she had missed his head. Holding the pistol in only her right hand, she had flinched, missing her intended target and hitting him in the left shoulder, making him writhe and scream in pain.
Walking around to his head, she held the pistol in a two-handed grip as she had seen her husband do. Leaning down until the muzzle of the gun was only a few inches from tats' face, she waited until he stopped flopping around and his fluttering eyes once again met hers, then pulled the trigger.
The blast sounded more muffled to her than the others had, and she didn't notice the blood spray and bits of tissue that blew back onto her. Holding the pistol in place for another moment, she saw the locked-back slide and the head wound beneath it. Then she straightened up and turned to face Christian, Mike and her family. "Let's go."
3
Jim Wyatt shut off the tractor and looked back at the area he had just tilled. About four acres, it quadrupled the space of his existing garden, which was now beginning to sprout its many rows of tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, corn, beets, beans, potatoes, carrots and melons. Until three days ago, it had been more than enough to satisfy the needs of his family, supplemented with meat and dairy products from the grocery store and their freezers. Now, without a commercial supply chain to rely on, he knew they would have to grow a lot more, not only for their immediate needs, but to can for later and to use for trade.
It was still early enough to get in a second crop, which meant they would have fresh vegetables from June through the first frost in October, and more to set up as stores. Plus, the apple, peach, plum and cherry trees he had planted several years ago were starting to show good fruit. He hoped that would be enough, as he didn't want to deplete the food bunker's stock if he could help it. Looking around the property, he figured he could add another twenty acres of food production in the future, but this patch was about all he'd be able to get in right away.
He was taking off his hat to wipe his forehead when he saw Aedan charging across the yard, followed closely by Brody and not so closely by a slower but determined Morgan.
"Daddy, daddy! There's some people coming down the road!"
Jim smiled. "Do they look like friends or enemies?"
Aedan stopped, excitement beaming from his sweaty face. "I don't know. Mommy said to come tell you!"
"Mommy said to come tell you!" echoed Brody.
Jim chuckled, put his hat back on and shut off the tractor. "Well, let's go see what they look like."
He pulled his AR out of the scabbard on the tractor and started walking toward the driveway that ran by the side of the house. As he approached the house, he shooed the kids inside and heard Kelly tell him to be careful, to which he gave a wave while slinging the rifle around his neck and unconsciously touching the butt of the pistol on his belt.
He kept an eye on the road as he walked down the long drive, hearing the dogs come up behind him. As he neared the iron gate, he saw the people approaching, three men and two women. One had a familiar walk. He opened the gate and stepped through, then waited for them to get within talking distance.
"About time you got here, boy!" he yelled with a smile.
A grin broke out on Christian's face. "Been trying to get here, but got held up a bit."
The two men walked to within handshake distance, but threw their arms around each other instead, Wyatt slapping Christian's back. "Damn good to see you." He let him go and looked at the others. "Who'd you bring along?"
Christian gestured toward Mike. "Mike came with me from the hospital. These other three are a package we picked up along the way - Bill, Ann and Tracy. Folks, this is my uncle Jim."
Wyatt nodded with a smile. "Well, if you're with Christian and he's not holding a gun on you, you must be alright. Let's get up to the house and get you all something to eat and let you sit down."
Christian nodded toward the dogs, who were sitting attentively on either side of Jim. "Is it safe? What the heck do you feed those things?
Wyatt laughed. "Unfriendly strangers. But they just had a couple, so you should be okay for a while."
Jim came back onto the deck with two more beers, gave one to Christian and sat back down. "I didn't think it would start so soon."
After Christian had arrived with the others, Jim and Kelly had arranged for all of them to get showers and be provided with new clothes, then have time to relax and decompress before dinner. Some of Jim's clothes had fit Mike, who settled into a spare bedroom with its own bathroom while Kelly took the Garners down to the finished basement which had more room and a full bathroom of its own.
Christian had stayed with Jim while Kelly started preparing dinner, and had been telling him about his trip for the past hour. He had covered the incident with the family and the thugs in detail, including his opinion of their guests.
Jim took a long pull of his beer. "So, you think they're good folks?"
Christian nodded. "From what I can tell. It hit them hard, but they came through tough. Every one of them. I was surprised."
"How about Mike?"
Christian shrugged. "I don't know him well. He was a paramedic who came into the ER a lot. Always seemed like a good guy. Says he was a sniper in the marines. Doesn't talk much, but he was ready to go when things got real and has acted right all along. So far, I'd say he's solid."
"Good." He looked over at Christian. "You staying?
"Hell yeah, I'm staying. Somebody's got to watch your back. Besides, where else am I going to find good cooking like Kelly's?" He was quiet for a moment. "And you always said family is what's important when things get bad. Well, you're my family, and like the guy in that movie said, if this ain't bad, it'll do till bad gets here."
Jim laughed. "Glad you remembered that. About family, I mean. Good. Tonight, we'll just relax and make our guests comfortable. I have a feeling Bill will want to talk a bit, and I'd like to talk to him too. Tomorrow, I want to go over some things with you. How we're set up and what our plans are.”
"What about Mike?" asked Christian.
Jim thought for a moment. "I'll leave that to you. If we're going to do what I think is going to be necessary, we're going to need more people, as long as they are good people and have skills to contribute or the willingness to learn them. I imagine Mike has skills that we could use here. If you keep thinking he's a good guy, let him know we'd be happy to have him stay."
Dinner had been hamburger steaks cooked on the grill, smothered with mushrooms, grilled onions and melted Swiss cheese, green beans, carrots and grilled corn on the cob with iced tea and lemonade, eaten at the long table for twelve Jim had built on the expansive stone veranda he had also built along the side and back of the house. A pergola covered with wisteria and honeysuckle shaded the entire deck and a stone outdoor fireplace, today unused, dominated the far end. It was the family’s favorite place to sit during nice weather.
Table talk had been relaxed, if a bit subdued, everyone thinking about the Garner's ordeal and what it indicated about the new reality they faced. Jim and Kelly had inquired about the Garners' previous work, to which the Garners answered politely, and the Garners complimented the house and grounds, to which Jim and Kelly responded in great detail in order to relieve the Garners from having to make too much conversation. Mike mainly ate, smiled and looked at Tracy while the kids ran around, chasing, and sometimes being chased by the dogs.
When the meal ended, Ann and Tracy helped Kelly clear the table and do the dishes while the men remained, enjoying the relaxation. Finally, Christian and Mike got up to straighten out their gear, leaving only Jim and Bill at the table.
Jim could tell that Bill wanted to talk, but also kn
ew he might feel a bit hesitant, so he broke the silence. "Did Kelly get you all settled in okay?"
Bill nodded. "Yes, very well.” He paused for a moment, looking down at the table then back up. “Jim, I want to thank you for taking us in like this. We all want to thank you. I know it must be a great imposition."
Jim waved it off. "No imposition at all. We like having company and the kids always love it when other folks come by. It gives them new people to show off for." He chuckled, then became more serious. "I'm just glad you all hooked up with Christian. He told me everything that happened."
Bill watched the kids playing for a few moments. "Did he tell you I killed three men?"
Jim noticed that Bill had not mentioned his wife’s part in the killings. "He told me you blew the nuts off of and then executed three dirt bags who were going to gang rape your wife and daughter and probably kill all of you. Is that about right?"
Bill nodded. "Yes."
"Christian said it was justice. Sounds like justice to me."
Bill nodded again, though more in thought than agreement. "I was a judge for almost fifteen years. I dealt with these people all the time. Sometimes, I was able to sentence them according to what I felt was justice. Sometimes I was constrained by sentencing guidelines or deals the prosecutors felt were necessary." He took a deep breath. "And sometimes their crimes were so heinous, so inhuman, no sentence would have been justice."
Jim said nothing, giving Bill time to talk it through.
It took a minute before Bill continued. "What I did yesterday, I would have to go back several hundred years to find precedent for. Yet it felt just. Still, I wonder whether it really was just or simply felt like it because it was personal."
Jim was quiet for a minute in case Bill had more to say, then leaned forward, forearms on the table. "Christian used to be a cop. So was I. We both did it because we wanted to help people, to stand between the good folks and the bad guys and hold the bad guys to account. We both left in disgust because we discovered it was all a big game that had little to do with justice and a lot to do with who knew who, what political point was in play and how much money you had. We got tired of taking out the garbage for a dysfunctional society that seemed intent on creating an endless supply of new garbage."
He leaned back again and continued. "The majority of people you sentenced during those fifteen years went on to hurt more people - many more people. The three you took care of yesterday will never hurt another person. The rest of good society owes you a debt of gratitude."
Bill shook his head slowly. "Is that what we've returned to, then?" he asked. "A society in which individuals take retaliatory action on their own? Where a gun at the side of the road takes the place of a court of law?"
Jim nodded. "That was more justice than I saw coming out of a lot a court rooms in my time, and you just said the same thing yourself a minute ago. Let me ask you something, Bill. Who were the victims out there yesterday?"
Bill looked at him, giving a small shrug. "My family and I."
"Exactly. You know what used to get me? When something horrendous would happen to someone, and when it got to court, if it got to court, it was 'the state of such-and-such versus so-and-so'. The state, which had not protected the victim in the first place was now taking the victim's place in seeking justice. In the end, the lawyers got paid, the judge got paid, the court reporter got paid, everybody who shuffled some papers got paid, the crook either went to prison or didn't, and the victim went home with nothing but the state's pompous assurance that justice had been done. No offense, Bill, but I think that system would have made our founders want to puke, and was part of what was bringing this country down even before this happened."
Both men were silent for a few minutes. Jim got up and came back with a bottle and two glasses. He poured two fingers into each glass and set one in front of Bill before sitting down to his own. "I drink Wild Turkey. One-o-one to celebrate and eighty-six on more serious occasions. This seems like an eighty-six night."
Bill smiled and picked up the glass. "I'll drink to that." He took a sip of the bourbon and gestured at the property with a sweep of his hand. "You have a beautiful set up here. Christian said you saw all this coming."
Jim shrugged. "Well, I was afraid something was going to happen. I didn't know what it would be, but with the economy, the corruption in the government, international problems and our own societal troubles here at home, I wanted to separate and protect my family from whatever came down the road. I wanted to be self-sufficient and not have to rely on outside providers, especially the government. I decided to prepare for an EMP because I figured if we were prepared for that we'd be prepared for anything. And look what we got. How about you?"
Bill took another sip of the bourbon and looked down at his hands. He shook his head. "Ann told me something like this could happen. She was starting to get interested in all that preparedness stuff and even had me watch a couple of National Geographic shows about it. I'm afraid I didn't take it very seriously. It seemed like a lot of tinfoil hat stuff to me. So essentially, I was prepared for everything just going along the way it had been. I had insurance, savings and a retirement plan. Something like this just seemed impossible, like science fiction."
Jim nodded. "I think most people felt that way. Christian told me you all are from Ohio. What are you going to do?"
Bill was quiet for a moment and shook his head. "I don't know. Ann tells me this could last for years. That seems unbelievable, but I know it's true. I don't know how we can get back home, but I'm not sure what else to do."
Jim took a sip from his own glass. "Bill, trying to get back to Ohio would be suicide, at least right now. Those who made projections about something like this estimated a die-off of fifty percent of the population within six months and up to ninety percent within a year from dehydration, starvation, disease and all the violence that will come with societal collapse. We're back in the frontier days, but with three hundred million more people, few who can provide for themselves, many of whom have psychological problems, and millions who are just mean and waiting to prey on the vulnerable. You don't want to be out traveling in that, especially with two women.”
Bill nodded his head. "I know you're right. But I don't know what else I can do."
Jim drained his glass and set it on the table. "Well, you all are welcome here until you decide. We can talk some more tomorrow. I have an idea.”
4
Jim awakened earlier than usual. Everyone had turned in soon after dinner and the last thing he remembered was talking with Kelly in bed. The next thing he knew he was waking up to the faint light of dawn.
Kelly was still asleep, as was his left arm that had been under her head all night. Gently, and as quietly as he could, he pulled his dead arm out from under her and got dressed in the dark using his right hand. His arm started the electric buzz in time for him to put on his boots and gun belt, and he went downstairs to the large kitchen and hearth room. Making a cup of instant coffee, he put a large percolating coffee pot on the gas stove for when the others got up and went out to drink his first cup on the deck.
It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. The sky was showing the pink and purple tones that resulted from clouds in the east, and the west was starting to change from dark to brilliant blue. He knew it would be warm later, but it was still cool and the slight breeze made the hot coffee taste just right. He thought about how drastically things had changed over the past few days, yet the world continued on in all its beauty as if nothing had happened. And he thought that put things into an important perspective.
He watched the sun creep a bit higher, then finished his coffee and walked out to the attached garage addition he had added a year ago coming off the back of the house. The garage had four bays with a large open apartment above it that would accommodate six with its own kitchen and bathroom. What no one but Kelly and the contractors who poured the foundation knew was that it also had a full basement. The addition had interior s
teel doors to each level of the house, basement, ground and second floor, but he didn't want to bother anyone who was still asleep and wasn't yet ready to let anyone else know about the bunker.
Entering the garage through the pedestrian door, he walked over to a large wooden work table in the far corner. Moving several items off it, he lifted one end and tilted the table so that it rested on its top and rear legs. Rolling back a large black mat that had been positioned under the table, he lifted a sheet of heavy plywood by a hinge at its midpoint, revealing a closed, inward swinging steel door beneath it. Unlatching and lowering the door, he flipped on a light switch and descended into the bunker on the metal ladder set into the concrete shaft.
In the past, he had always had mixed feelings when entering the bunker. On one hand, he felt good that his family was well provided for in case of any emergency. On the other hand, he had occasionally wondered if he'd been a bit nuts to spend this much money on a "what if?". Now, all doubt was gone and he was glad he had followed his instincts.
The bunker was large, measuring the full twenty-four by forty-eight- foot footprint of the garage above it. Indirect low voltage lighting gave the space a pleasant glow, unlike the harsh lighting of many such shelters, and the soft whir of fans could be heard as they circulated air in and out of the bunker. Walking to a desk on the near wall, Jim turned on a laptop.
The day after the event, Jim had opened the large Faraday room he had constructed at the far end of the bunker. In theory, the entire bunker was a Faraday room, as was the garage above it, but he believed in redundancy whenever possible. You just never knew.
Inside were numerous shelves of electronic equipment, including laptops, televisions, radios, walkie-talkies, wireless alarms, surveillance systems, inverters and controllers for the wind and solar power systems and more. He had been relieved when he powered up the laptop and found it functional. Theoretically, he knew the specially designed room should protect his equipment, but seeing was believing.