“I honestly hope they can succeed.
“But whether they do or not, it’s no longer the mission of the 8th Army.
“The new mission of the Mighty Eighth is to keep Americans alive and to help them prosper. To help everyone’s lives return to some semblance of normalcy.
“Obviously the big cities got priority, since there were more survivors there.
“The northern cities got next priority, because they had problems in the winter that southern cities don’t have to deal with. Things like migrations of their bird populations and constant freezing temperatures, freezing water pumps, and things like that.
“We’re at a stage now where we’ve done everything we could do to help the northern cities. And the big cities have all been visited and assisted as well. We’re now in phase three of the operation, where we’re visiting the mid-sized cities.”
Somebody in the crowd was annoyed by the comment and yelled, “Mid-sized my ass! San Antonio has a million and a half people!”
General Pope was unfazed.
“That was once the case. But now your population is estimated to be about a hundred and fifty thousand survivors.
“And that, like it or not, makes San Antonio a mid-sized city.”
It was a sad statement, for it implied that ninety percent of the city had perished in the previous two years.
But unfortunately it was absolutely true.
The general went on.
“We plan to spend about sixty days here. We’ve asked the mayor where our help is needed and we’ve developed a dispersal plan.
“In the days and weeks ahead we will be visiting every single street in every single neighborhood. We’ll be looking at your growing operations and your security procedures. We will offer advice on best practices we’ve seen at other locations.
“For example, if we saw a group of people in Milwaukee who had a phenomenal security operation we’ll tell you how they did it. And we’ll do what we can to help you set up a similar operation if you’re interested.
“The same goes for your growing operation. What we’ve noticed is that the most successful cities are encouraging crop specialization.
“So we will explain to each group of people we visit how that works and why it makes sense. We won’t try to force you to change the way you’re doing things, but we’ll give you more options.
“Better options.
“At the same time, we’ll be trying to take a census. The federal government is sending more resources to the bigger cities. The bigger the population, the more help a city receives. That might not sound fair to you, but it is what it is.
“For that reason I encourage all of you to participate. Give our censor takers your first and last name and social security number so you can be counted.”
-12-
Two of John Castro’s friends, Loco Julio and his wife Maria, were in the crowd.
They’d debated whether to go or not and almost stayed home.
Julio was a curmudgeon, you see, and he despised large groups of people.
In the end, though, their curiosity won out and they braved the crowds with everybody else.
When the general finished his spiel and asked for questions, Julio was one of the first to raise his hand.
“How do we know you’re here to do what you say you’re gonna do? I haven’t trusted the federal government for a very long time, and I’m too damned old to start a new habit now.”
It was a question Pope had heard before.
“Do you trust your local government?”
“I don’t know. They ain’t been able to get the power turned back on either.”
“And they won’t, sir. At least not for a very long time. This whole blackout thing is bigger than any of us. Heck, it’s bigger than all of us put together.
“It’s the biggest thing man has ever had to deal with. At least since Noah’s flood.
“It’s bigger than any government, local or federal. The best we can do is to keep moving forward one step at a time. Keep helping each other get through this. Keep surviving so that when things get better a little at a time we can enjoy our fruits together.
“Your mayor and the city council have joined with us in this effort, because they know that by working together we can get so much more accomplished.
“I understand your tendency to be suspicious of me and my men. And that’s okay.
“All I’m asking you to do right now is to trust the judgment of Mayor Rodriguez and the rest of the council. They trust us enough to work with us.
“If you choose not to, that’s your decision to make. I can respect that. After two years I’d be suspicious myself of somebody showing up out of the blue offering to help.
“But then again, maybe you should just watch what we do. Decide for yourselves if we’re helping.”
The general stayed at the podium for another twenty minutes, answering question after question. Finally the crowd started to dissipate and Julio went forward to talk to the man.
Maria was right behind him, expecting a fight.
For “Loco Julio,” as the locals called him, wasn’t exactly known for being a bundle of sunshine.
He surprised her.
“General Pope, my name is Julio. I’m a United States Marine.”
The general reached out his hand and Julio took it.
He noticed the little man before him was seventy if he was a day.
“Pardon me for saying so, Julio. But don’t you mean a former Marine?”
“Nope. The Corps gets in your blood and stays there. Once you’re a Marine you’re a Marine for life.”
“Yes, sir. I suppose that’s true, Julio. How can I help you?”
“You can’t. But I thought I could help you.”
Maria’s jaw dropped. She was stunned and speechless.
Julio never volunteered to help anybody.
The general, on the other hand, was used to help being offered. He took it in stride.
“We’d appreciate any help you can give us, Julio. What do you have in mind?”
“Two things, really. The first is I’d like to offer to ride shotgun with one of your teams.”
“Shotgun?”
“Security. You and I both know a lot of these neighborhoods won’t cotton much to the Army coming in. Plus, your teams won’t know their way around. I’m one of the locals. I know this town like the back of my hand.
“Besides,” he added with a wicked smile, “it wouldn’t be the first time the Marines went into hostile territory to clear the way for the Army.”
General Pope smiled.
“Well, you have a point there. Julio. But as much as I appreciate your offer, I think we’ve got a handle on it”
“Do you, sir? Tienes un control sobre eso?”
Now the general was caught short.
He gave Julio a puzzled look.
Maria finally understood Julio’s point. She smiled but said nothing.
“I don’t understand.”
“Exactly my point, general.”
“Explain, please.”
“General, I mean you no disrespect. I really don’t. But are you familiar with the words wedo or bolillo?”
“No. I’m afraid I’m not.”
“They’re racial slurs. Have you ever heard a Mexican call you gringo?”
“Yes. Many times.”
“Same thing. They’re not terms of endearment.”
“Okay. What has that got to do with you escorting my men?”
“Your men are all white, general. The population of San Antonio is mostly Hispanic.
“As your teams drive into the neighborhoods around town you won’t have the luxury of announcing your intentions or of having Mayor Rodriguez vouch for you.”
“What are you proposing, exactly?”
“That your teams be escorted by locals who speak the lingo. People who can call out in advance, in a language the locals are familiar with, to announce that you are friendly and mean no harm
to them. That you’re only there to help.”
“Do you think that’s really necessary?”
“I don’t know, general. In most cases, probably not. But there are an awful lot of survivors out there who are still alive because they’ve used their weapons at the first sign of a threat.
“And that’s the way they may see your men, unless they’ve got someone along who can vouch for them.”
-13-
Anne Walker was a genuinely nice lady, loved by friends and neighbors alike.
She was the first-shift librarian at the Kerrville Public Library for thirty one years before they finally made her retire, citing city statutes which didn’t allow anyone to work past age seventy.
At first she hated the whole idea of retirement.
She truly loved her job, and used to tell people she didn’t know everyone in Kerrville. Just the finest ones.
Two days into her mandated retirement it dawned on her that she didn’t have to give up the library. She could still go in every morning to have coffee and visit with the early-birds and the library staff.
She’d just no longer get paid to do it.
Then she realized being retired did indeed have its advantages.
For one, she could stay as long as she wanted, then was free to slip out and run errands or tend to her garden. Tending her garden was much more pleasant in the morning than evening. She started making friends with the birds who came to feast from her feeders, and became so familiar with some of them she started to name them.
Also, she could stop on her way in to the library for a couple of dozen donuts or kolaches to share with her fellow library patrons as well as the staff.
As a member of the staff itself she’d always been prohibited from doing so by some silly city rule.
Of course, that all changed forever when the blackout came.
The library was shuttered now, as it was hard to do business in a building which had no skylights and darned few windows. They’d tried keeping it open with oil-burning lanterns until the fire department nixed the idea.
The most hardcore readers met on the library lawn for awhile. But with no access to the building there was no way to get new reading material and attendance slowly trickled down to nothing.
Even the donuts and kolaches came to an abrupt halt when both businesses closed their doors for good.
Some things stayed the same, though.
Anne continued to tend her garden in the morning and continued to make friends with the passing birds.
She was still beloved by everyone who knew her.
Since she lived so far away, though, all the way out on Winston Road, she seldom saw her old library friends.
They were scattered here and there and everywhere, and although Anne had a bicycle and two horses, it took so very long to get anywhere.
She wasn’t as young as she once was.
She was considered by many in Kerr County to be a spinster, since she never had any children.
But that wasn’t true, not at all.
She seldom talked about her husband because he’d been gone for so long, but she was actually a widow.
Howard was an amazing man, and their love was as wide as the heavens.
They’d wanted children, but Howard was unable to father any.
When he died forty years before to cancer she’d had the option of remarrying. And she was still young enough to have children.
But she never met a man who could hold a candle to Howard. And in her mind it would have done him a disservice to even try.
So there she was, in a house much larger than she really needed.
She was alone most of the time but seldom lonely.
She still had her birds, and her cats, and her horses.
Since she still had quite an impressive collection of books she essentially had the universe at her immediate disposal.
And she had an occasional visit from a neighbor or a worried friend who came by to see her.
Actually, they were checking on her welfare and emotional state as much as they were socializing, but she understood and didn’t mind.
Many people in her situation, finding themselves all alone in the world, were ending their own lives.
But she’d never do that, not Anne.
For she had way too much to live for.
Anne’s habit was to feed her horses twice a day. Once around sunrise and once around sunset.
They were like the children she never had, and one in particular, a Morgan named Tex, tended to pout when she showed up to ride or to brush him instead of bringing food.
Horses, like young children, must be trained in a variety of ways, and her solution to Tex’s attitude was merely to adjust it a bit.
After being fed for several days when the sun was low in the sky, morning and evening, he learned exactly when he could expect to be fed.
And before long he accepted that any time his human showed up at any other time of day she was there for something else.
Tex and his stable mate Melissa were restless at sundown when Anne came to call.
She chalked that up to the coyote she’d seen a couple of nights before.
It had run off into the brush when it saw her, because coyotes are fearful of humans and large animals.
Anne assumed he’d returned and the horses had seen him again and it was making them nervous.
“Oh, don’t worry about him, you big sissies. He can’t get in here. I’ve never seen a coyote yet who could jump into a window four feet off the ground.”
She smiled and stroked each of them, then scratched them behind their ears to calm them.
She never saw the man hiding in the shadows of the tack room at the far end of the stable.
-14-
Jeff Barnett had been hanging around Winston Road long enough to know at least part of Anne’s routine.
He knew she could frequently be found in her vegetable garden, tending to her crops in the morning hours.
He also knew she tended to leave her house and disappear into her stable each night around the time the sun went down.
He didn’t know she repeated that process at sunrise, because he typically wasn’t out and about that early.
But then again, that was something he didn’t necessarily need to know.
He gained access to the back of the stable by way of the heavy woods behind it, and was fairly certain he wasn’t seen. The nearest house was about a hundred twenty yards away, on the other side of those same dense woods.
And he’d gotten very good of late in moving around unnoticed.
The two horses in the stable seemed a bit skittish at his presence, but that wasn’t unusual for horses. Many of them are uncomfortable with new humans until they get to know them and learn to trust them.
He’d brought his gun but wouldn’t use it.
These days there weren’t as many gunshots in the night as there once were.
And he was in a rural location, where any gunshots heard were heard during the daytime.
And were typically attributed to hunters.
No, a gunshot at sundown in a rural setting would be interpreted as hostile. And there was a chance a nosy neighbor close enough to hear it might be curious enough to check it out.
The gun would stay in his holster.
He also had a knife in his boot, but would try not to use it.
He had a specific purpose for Anne. But he couldn’t give her the opportunity to scream. And if he stabbed her and his first thrust wasn’t true she might get off a wail before she died.
That wail might be heard by the same nosy neighbor.
And that nosy neighbor could well ruin Jeff’s evil plan.
That just wouldn’t do.
He looked around for a new weapon and found an axe handle leaning against a wall in the tack room.
Perfect.
He heard the squeaky screen door open on Anne’s back porch.
He smiled broadly. It was almost show time.
He
tucked himself into the darkened corner of the tack room, mostly hidden behind half a dozen bridles and leather leads hanging from high hooks.
Through one of the horse’s viewing windows he could see a dim figure making her way across the back yard.
Her face and upper body were bathed in a soft yellow light, thanks to the kerosene lantern she held out in front of her.
He watched her and wondered if he should modify his plans and have some fun with her.
She wasn’t bad looking.
A bit skinny for his tastes, perhaps.
But he’d had fun with skinny women before.
He was still undecided as he watched her swing open the stable door and walk in, then close it behind her.
He watched as she went to each of the horses, said something he couldn’t quite hear, and then laughed at her own words.
He watched in appreciation as she stroked each of the big horses, wondering if perhaps he should spare her so he could feel her soft touch instead.
Then he shook his head to try to put that thought out of his mind.
He was here on a specific mission, for a specific purpose. He already had a playmate in Sara. He didn’t really need another one yet.
Still, he enjoyed watching the way Anne moved in the semi-darkness. The light the lantern cast upon her had an almost erotic effect.
He watched as she reached into a sack of dried apples and gave each of the horses their twice-daily treat.
And as she used a plastic scoop to take horse feed from a fifty pound bag and fill feed buckets in each horse’s stall.
How she turned on a water hose connected to an elevated water tank outside to fill up a trough they shared.
Finally, he watched as she tore two flakes of hay from a mostly-used bale and held them in front of the horses.
As Melissa happily munched on the hay Jeff snuck up behind Anne and swung his axe handle with as much force as he could muster.
The horse lurched, then backed as far as she could in the back of the stall.
Jeff’s swing had plenty of force, and more importantly hit his mark exactly.
Anne’s neck was broken instantly and she crumpled onto the stable floor.
She was dead, and no longer a threat of any kind to Jeff Barnett.
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