Tertiary Effects Series | Book 3 | Bite of Frost
Page 9
“Which is why we’re going to lose the hospital in Jasper,” Nikki all but spat, then she gave the sheriff an apologetic nod as her tone softened. “Sorry, not your fault, but there it is. That Corporal Cansler is too busy trying to steal narcotics for the black market to mount even a half-assed defense.”
Bastrop took another sip of his coffee, seeming to gather his thoughts at my sister’s outburst.
“You think it’s that bad? I’ve been talking to Sheriff Stringer, and he’s got a rotating shift of deputies on guard at the main campus.”
I gave Bastrop a speculative look before answering.
“Sheriff, I had a pretty frank conversation with a couple of the soldiers assigned to the hospital. They’re pretty sure their boss is going to leave this Cansler in charge when they pull out. Their advice, off the record, was to keep our people home if it happens. I didn’t know about the corporal’s alleged black market proclivities, but it doesn’t sound like a good situation there.”
Bastrop seemed to deflate as my words struck home. “That’s the only real hospital within twenty miles,” he observed softly.
“Yeah, next closest is clear over in Woodville, I think,” I observed, then continued. “You might want to have a talk with Julie, I mean, Sheriff Stringer, and see about augmenting his deputies there. Last time I was onsite, he only had two or three uniforms on duty in the hospital itself.”
Bastrop nodded, then let a touch of humor tinge his next words. “I didn’t know that was Sheriff Stringer’s nickname, but I’ll reach out to him. See about getting some multi-jurisdictional cooperation going. We can’t afford to lose that hospital, not at this juncture.”
“Sounds like something we might be able to help with, if we accept your proposal,” I conceded. “Now, if you can, please tell us more about this State Guard transformation you mentioned.”
“Yeah, that goes to the second point I wanted to touch on today. Figures the governor will need the troops domestically, to handle the toughest gangs and other so-called ‘subversive’ groups. Somebody on the governor’s staff must be former military and convinced him they’d be easier to work with than green enlistees. Some places, the local LEOs are going through the refugee camps, picking up men based on their files and leaning on them pretty hard to come back into service. Man’s got hungry kids, he’ll sign the papers for another four-year hitch if his family is being taken care of.”
“Not liking the sound of subversive groups, but I don’t see the concern for me and mine with this. We’re making ends meet, and none of our children are going hungry right now.”
“The effort’s yielded up quite a few warm bodies so far, but it may not be enough,” Sheriff Bastrop explained, and I felt the first tingle of concern in my gut as he continued. “Before he left, Major Carstairs hinted the governor has asked some of his cronies in the state legislature to consider passing an emergency bill. One designed to recall all former service back to active duty in the State Guard.”
The sheriff’s words left me momentarily stunned at the thought. Nikki dove right in at that point while I pondered the implications.
“That’s so unconstitutional I don’t even know how to respond, Sheriff, but then we live in unreasonable times. I take it then our prior service family members need to keep a low profile? My husband needs to hide who and what he was?”
Wouldn’t be a bad idea, I realized, but then the sheriff replied.
“No, he doesn’t have to,” Bastrop went on with his explanation, “because local law enforcement are exempted from the effort. Iron-clad guarantee or we’d lose a lot of our law enforcement personnel, so they are strictly hands-off. That includes reserve deputies as long as they are on full-time status.”
“So there is that,” I observed sourly, and I had all but conceded the recruitment at that point. “We going to get any support out here, or are we on our own? Because you pegged it earlier. All in, we’ve got enough warm bodies to field maybe a fireteam. Four or five live bodies. Not enough to even make up a squad under normal Army doctrine, from what I understand.”
“I thought you had more men available,” Bastrop admitted, slightly perplexed. “You know I’m including Wade’s people in this recruitment as well.”
“I figured, but I can’t speak for them,” I replied honestly, then paused for emphasis before continuing.
“You should also understand one important point. We will never leave our homeplaces undefended. There will always be a guard mounted here first, and whoever is left over and not involved in other projects should be available for law enforcement detail.”
“That should go without saying,” Sheriff Bastrop hastily conceded. “I know you have some kind of mutual defense deal with the Husband’s, but have you considered expanding your reach to include the rest of the residents nearby?”
I thought about Mike’s neighborhood watch back in Fort Worth and gave the Sheriff a tight grin, more a showing of teeth than anything close to humor.
“We’ve thought about that. Sadly, for our immediate neighbors back towards town, that just leaves the Lovetts, and they aren’t exactly overflowing with choices when it comes to manning the wall,” I said, baiting the trap.
“And the Fitts place is standing empty, attracting looters and criminals on the run,” Sheriff Bastrop conceded. The sheriff paused, swirling the coffee around in his cup, and at that moment I realized the man was simply running on empty, like the soldiers at the hospital.
“Damn shame about Wally and his dad,” he continued. “I never met Byron, but I talked to Wally just about every day. They’re not the only ones getting hit like this either. Had another attack just yesterday, which is why we didn’t get here sooner. Just three refugees, but they managed to take the Kelleher family hostage before one of their neighbors called us.”
“Standoff?”
Sheriff Bastrop nodded, and from his demeanor, I could tell things hadn’t gone well. I didn’t know the name of the family, the Kellehers, but I wondered how many had died before the deputies gained control of the situation. Next, I wondered how many of the county’s lawmen were now crammed into beds at the hospital, or laid out at the morgue. After we had killed so many deputies, albeit raping scumbags, the department must be short-handed.
Thinking about these things gave me the spark to broach the topic I’d been dancing around, and also triggered the trap I’d set earlier.
“Sheriff, I know reserve is the polite way of saying unpaid, but if we don’t get some support, I don’t know how much good we could do you or the county.”
Bastrop gave me an appraising look, and a bit of a smirk escaped his lips before he retorted.
“You apparently have the basics covered. What are the lyrics to that old song? Oh, yeah, lawyers, guns and money.”
I had to chuckle at this response, addressing each one in order.
“We got one lawyer, a few guns, and a little bit of money left over after buying the Bonner property, but I still want my hog gun back.”
“You mean that cutdown Remington chambered in .308? The one you used to mete out some vigilante justice at the feed store? Plus, don’t you know those things will jam if you look at them funny?” Now Sheriff Bastrop let his grin show, and I returned it with one of my own.
“I believe the investigation concluded the actions fell under the category of self-defense, and defense of others. However, if you’d like to replace it with a department issue M4, I’d be happy to trade you, straight up,” I riposted immediately.
Suddenly, Bastrop’s amusement faded a bit at my request, as it was air escaping from a balloon.
“Can’t help your there. Don’t have enough for my paid deputies, actually. We don’t have possession of near what was on the books. Not sure we’ve even found all that old bastard’s stashes yet. I swear…” Bastrop muttered, running a hand over his face before getting back to the subject at hand.
“Look, what is it you really want? I saw your armory coming in, so I know you’ve got plenty
of firepower here. I can swing some Interceptor body armor, but I’ve only got three sets to spare. And of course, badges.”
A line from an old movie jumped the forefront of my mind, something about ‘don’t need no stinking badges’, but I suppressed the words. Instead, I simply said, “Yes, please.”
The armory, as he called it, was simply the near wall of the mud room we’d converted into a team gear area, utilizing old metal lockers as storage for our spare rifles, packs, and harnesses. The idea had been Pat’s, and merely adapted from what he saw the firefighters use in their setup. We could go from condition yellow, sidearms only, to fully kitted out in a matter of a few minutes. I knew, because Pat had drilled us on that, too.
With Mike and Pat out on escort duty, and Sally’s kit temporarily stored over at the Husband’s house, the lockers actually looked a little sparse to me, but I didn’t want to say anything impolite.
“Replacement ammo would be good, and we’ll need radios that link up with your network. Getting a fuel allotment, like the hospital worked out for their employees, would be a big deal. Otherwise, we can’t do much else but guard the road in front of our house. For instance, if we had the gas, then we could swing a bigger presence at the hospital in Jasper.”
I could see the wheels turning in the Sheriff’s head at my suggestion, and I decided to press on.
“We are still getting fuel via convoy, so keep track your mileage and fill up at the county lot,” Sheriff Bastrop admitted. “That’s the best we can do right now, anyway.”
“The other thing is something you touched on earlier. The Fitts property. We’d like to purchase it from the estate, or if there’s no heirs, from the county.”
“But you just said you don’t have enough bodies for the places you already have,” Bastrop protested, but I could tell it was more from confusion than real opposition.
“We aren’t looking to rip anybody off, Sheriff,” Nikki said, rejoining the conversation. “We’ll pay a decent price for it. Not overpay, and maybe it will require some creative accounting, but I’m certain we can work out a deal. Right now, I’m doubting there are many people getting mortgages.”
“Half the people in this county already know that house is vacant, and we’ve seen what happens to anything left unoccupied,” I added, pressing home the point. “If that turkey Eugene hadn’t gotten lost, then we’d have an aggressive raiding force nestled between the Husbands and the Lovetts. Neither of those households are set up to hold out against a large group of determined bandits. As for not having enough bodies, we’ve decided that having a few more friends and family joining us might not be a bad idea.”
“You’re planning on recruiting,” Bastrop said, and it wasn’t a question.
“Yes, I am. Not for your reserve deputies, obviously. That’s for you to decide. But the more support we have here, the more deputies you can have in the field.”
“You know, you could just move some of your people in over at Byron’s place. Nobody is really in a position to complain.”
The pragmatism in the sheriff’s words surprised me, but I waved it away.
“Big Brother is still out there, even if he’s in Austin now, instead of Washington, DC. I’d just as soon not have those State Guard folks showing up and rousting anybody who takes up residence there. No, we’ll either gain title to the property or make it unusable for anybody as a base.”
“Damn, big brother,” Nikki all but exclaimed, and I could tell she was trying hard not to laugh. “I knew you shouldn’t have spent so much time watching the History Channel. Now you’re reaching back for Vietnam-era rhetoric. Burn the village in order to save it. Ring any bells?”
“Hard to imagine she’s a bank vice-president, isn’t it?” I retorted, ignoring the motion as my sister gave me the finger. “She sounds like a right anarchist, does my little sister. Probably more useful skills, once the Feds stop rolling the trucks altogether.”
“You really think they’re writing us off?” Sheriff Bastrop asked seriously, and again, the mirth drained from our conversation. “I mean, I get it. The West Coast is a ruin, and the President and Congress are caught between caring for the survivors of that disaster and fighting off an attack from an unexpected quarter. But I have to wonder, what are they doing?”
Again, I wanted to say something inappropriate. This time, it was an urge to tell the truth, and spill what I knew. I felt the urge to tell him, they are busy digging deep bunkers and hidden redoubts for when the next wave of rocky interlopers intersected with our planet. But I bit my lip.
Had Carstairs shared what he’d known with Bastrop? The ones of us in the know, the small group of us who not only knew about the first meteorite, but the three additional ones drawing ever closer, decided to keep that information close for now. We knew, and that knowing did little to help our survival except making it more of a challenge to get up in the morning. Why work so hard, when we were all likely to die in five months?
Instead, I went with a more conventional response.
“They’re trying to put the pieces back together, Sheriff, and the damage done to this country has overwhelmed the decision makers. Don’t just think about the casualty figures, but look at where they occurred. We just lost some of our biggest trading partners, and one of the largest engines driving our economy. I’m not defending Washington, because God knows they could be doing a better job in this mess, but that’s just how I see it.”
“You really think that’s the extent of it? They’ve got too much on their plate to worry about our small problems out here?”
Nikki gave a look, and I nodded before she spoke to add her opinion to the mix.
“Say what you want about the Left Coast, but think about how much losing our tech centers and a big chunk of our agriculture at the same time has to have hurt the country. Then understand that our financial system has been fundamentally altered by this catastrophe. What Bryan said earlier is true. I might pretend to be a flake, but I get why the markets have been suspended, and the actions by the Fed.
“The banks are broke, Sheriff, the insurance companies are broke, and the dollar is likely doing a nose-dive in the foreign exchanges that are still functioning. Whatever they are cooking up in Washington may or may not make a difference down the road, but for the time being, they are leaving us to our own devices. What will be interesting is how the states who are now left floundering will react when Uncle Sugar comes back around to retake control. Now, take a breath, and let it out, slowly.”
Sheriff Bastrop actually took that deep breath, and blinked.
“So you think we’re screwed, no matter what?”
I shook my head.
“I didn’t say that. Neither did Nikki. But times are unsettled right now, and people are acting out. Best we can do is hold tight to what we have, and wait out the disruptions. You need more deputies, though. I can see that as clearly as you can. And you need your family somewhere they won’t be targeted while you do your job.”
“Yeah, and you’re right about the families,” Bastrop conceded. “That’s why we converted the County Emergency Management bunker into secure quarters for dependents. I know some folks may see it as a drain on manpower, but you get it, don’t you, Bryan.”
I nodded, glad for the news. Say what you want about law enforcement, especially in this county under Bastrop’s predecessor, but they would do a better job if they weren’t constantly worried about their loved ones. Maybe even to the point of not shooting an unarmed teenager guilty of nothing more than walking while being black.
“You notice the one thing I didn’t ask for, Sheriff?”
“What’s that?” he asked, almost like he was afraid of my answer.
“Handcuffs.”
I let that sink in before continuing. “Now, when do you want to swear in your newest deputies? And you best plan on including Sally in that group, or we’ll never hear the end of it.”
CHAPTER NINE
When Mike and Pat came home that night with Ma
rta, they came bearing word from the hospital. Sally had chosen to spend the night at Wade’s house that night, since Billy was already bunked down there in the living room, so I would stop by the next day and visit with her while filling Wade in on the Sheriff’s plans. I wanted to get Sally and Billy home as soon as possible, but I couldn’t argue with the temporary arrangements.
The clock showed the time was after nine o’clock, which meant Marta and Dorothy had worked another twelve-hour plus shift. This was becoming the norm, but I could tell the long hours and the emotions of the situation were tearing my sister-in-law apart inside. They were now inundated with patients suffering from water-borne illnesses, and with the hospital being out of the electrolyte compounds usually used to help treat the sufferers. Marta had even revealed that the staff members were reduced to mixing their own batches of homemade replacement compounds in the closed cafeteria’s kitchen.
Marta gave her report with numb precision, and the worst news, at least to me, came next. As we’d feared, the National Guard contingent at the hospital was packing up, and word was they would be moving out in two days for parts unknown. No word on when the State Guard personnel would be coming to fill that void.
None of us were surprised by this latest revelation, but everyone wanted to hear the details of my conversation with the acting sheriff. With what Marta said, we needed to move up our timetable.
“Marta, you’re going to go get some sleep,” I warned her, like I was talking to a small child, “but Pat, I want you and Mike with me. We need to talk to Wade and Wil about what the Sheriff had to say.”
“Come on, honey, let’s get you cleaned up,” Nikki prompted, half-dragging her sister-in-law out of her chair. Mike and I had to hide our grins.
Marta started to protest, then just waved her hands in a manner more than a little like her daughter Tammy, declaring grumpily that she could do it herself. I saw the half-smile the two women shared and realized Marta, despite her fatigue, knew exactly how she’d sounded.
“If it’s okay, I’d like to come with you guys,” Nancy said diffidently from her perch on one of the kitchen chairs, and I held out a hand, like Nikki did, and Nancy huffed, “I can do it my own self.”