Tertiary Effects Series | Book 3 | Bite of Frost

by Allen, William

  Okay, so I was overselling it a little bit, and we had freelanced that whole Landshire extermination job, but I still worried about what Charles could say to others if we let him go, alive. Best to keep the water nice and muddy for now.

  “Like I said, two options. One, I execute you as a threat to my family. The other option, the one my brother proposed, because he reminded me how hard it is to get brains out of this old shag carpet, is to load your ass up and send you on your way to Birmingham. Your Aunt Delia still lives there, correct?”

  “Uh, yeah. But we can’t go,” Charles protested. “There’s guards at the bridge here, going into Louisiana, then again at the next two border crossings.”

  “Nope, not going to be an issue,” I reassured him. “The Sheriff has displaced persons permits, travel papers, so you can get through the border stops. You call your aunt, tell her you need to get out of Texas, and we’ll help you load your car. Then you are somebody else’s problem.”

  “But…”

  “That’s your two options, Charles. We welcomed you here, made a place for you just for Mary’s sake. Now you’ve burned your bridges on this road, and Door Number One is taking a road trip. Door Number Two, you get to take a take a dirt nap. Does that sound serious enough for you?”

  My words were sharp, but I spoke without much inflection. I was tired, and this was just another obstacle I needed to clear. When I spoke again, I could only think my fatigue and heart-sick feelings rang through, as Charles looked stricken after I finished speaking.

  “You want to know the saddest thing, Charles? I always liked you. I never wanted this to happen, and I was hoping with your engineering background, you would make a home here and help us weather the coming storm. Now you’re gone, and I’ll probably never see my favorite little cousin ever again.”

  “I…guess I need to make that phone call, then.”

  “You do that,” I replied stiffly as I turned and grasped the doorknob.

  “Just remember, this isn’t Mary’s fault. None of it. If you feel the need to blame somebody, then blame me. But if I ever find out you’ve laid a hand on that girl, there’s nowhere you can go to escape what will come. I will find out, and when I’m done, you’ll beg me to kill you.”

  I turned, drilling him with my eyes as I pronounced the next words very clearly.

  “Because you overlooked one thing, Charles Brewer. I’ve learned a lot about myself since things have gone to shit. For one thing, I’ve discovered that killing comes easy for me. Just like snapping a chicken’s neck.”

  I drew the door closed softly as I left Charles in the bedroom, and I thought I heard a sob before I stomped towards the kitchen. I told myself that last admission was a lie, but I worried about it just the same.

  “Go with him? Oh, hell no!” Mary exclaimed, catching me off guard as I re-entered the kitchen. She was sitting at the eat-in table, hands covering her face as she sobbed into her palms.

  “He really tried to sell us to the cops? And he asked for a reward for doing it?” Mary asked, her voice nearly child-like in her distress.

  “I just asked him about it, Mary,” I said softly, approaching her with careful steps. “He didn’t deny it. Said we were keeping both of you prisoner here, and making you work on ‘stupid’ projects. He’s calling his Aunt Delia right now.”

  “My God, Uncle Bryan, what am I going to do?”

  “Sounds like when Charlie takes his little trip, he’s going to be flying solo,” Nikki commented, and I couldn’t disagree. Mary sounded devastated, and surprised, by our revelation. What she’d said about Charles trying to sell ‘us to the cops’ struck a nerve. She was one of ours, and Mary could stay if she wanted.

  “Was Charlie on any medication before all this started,” Mike asked, and I thought he might be on to something, but Mary shook her head.

  “Look, I love the big lug, or at least, I thought I did. But he’s always been a bit of a dumbass in some ways. He gets an idea in his head, and no one, and nothing, is going to change his mind. I guess he saw the guns around here, and saw Pat and the rest of you guys training, and decided he’d ended up in an Al Queda base.”

  “He must have heard Pat cursing in Arabic,” Nikki quipped, then looked around. “He does that when he doesn’t want to ante up for the swear jar.” Then more seriously, “Mary, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, honey.”

  “Really? But Charles…”

  “That’s on him, not you,” Mike insisted, and seeing the vulnerable look in her eyes, he engulfed her in one of his bear hugs, lifting her off the ground. Mary was not a little girl, and though slender, she stood right at six feet tall, so the sight tickled my funny bone. I was still furious with Charles, but I realized I should be more sympathetic to Mary.

  “Mary, the only reason we extended the invitation was because of you, sweetie,” I said softly. “When Charles finishes making his arrangements, we will get him the travel documents he needs, and we will send him on down the road today if that is what you desire.”

  Mary sniffled, burying her head into Mike’s chest like a little girl.

  “When we first started dating, Charlie was great,” she started, then stopped for breath, still crying. “He was kind and sweet and thoughtful. But he changed after the wedding, as he focused more and more on his work, and spent less time with me. He started getting weird ideas, thinking people at his job were out to get him even when he was promoted.

  “I couldn’t reach him anymore. We tried couples counseling, and he would just sit there, like he was humoring me. I became like a piece of furniture, or a pet. This is just another example of his hardheaded attitude, and he’s had his last chance with me.”

  As Mary wound down, Nikki stepped up to help.

  “Why don’t we pack up some things for you, honey? We can get out of here and let Mike and Bryan deal with Charlie.”

  “They’re not going to hurt him, are they? I just want him gone,” Mary implored, and we promised her that as long as Charlie was civil, we would be as well.

  Five minutes after Nikki and Marry departed, taking Mary’s little hatchback, Charles emerged from the back bedroom. He still had an angry frown on his face, but the murderous intensity had faded.

  “Aunt Delia and Uncle Fred said we could stay with them until we found a new place,” Charles explained, then looked around the living space.

  “Where’s Mary?”

  “She’s going to stay here until you get settled in there,” Mike explained diplomatically. “She’s quite upset with you right at the moment, and she doesn’t want to make that long trip with you as things stand.”

  “She’s my wife,” Charlie huffed angrily. “She’s going with me.”

  “Charles, you still don’t have a clue what you did, do you?” Mike inquired. I could tell he was still mad, the red-hot fury gone for the moment, but I could tell the temperature was rising along with my brother’s voice. “If Sheriff Bastrop believed your crazy story about us being domestic terrorists, do you know what could have happened? Your accusations could have gotten everybody here killed, you idiot!”

  “What are you talking about? I thought you were trying to take over,” Charles defended, looking back and forth between the two of us. “You were always talking about guns and fighting. Like you were planning something.”

  “Three words, Charles,” I said. “Waco. Ruby Ridge.”

  “What?”

  “Look them up some time,” Mike continued. “But do it after you get to Birmingham. We have wasted enough of our time on you. Start packing. Bryan and I will run into town and get the documents you need. You have Delia’s address?”

  “Yeah, I got it on my phone,” Charles sullenly responded, then he looked up the information while I dug out my waterproof notebook and wrote it down.

  “How is this going to work? That little car gets good gas mileage, but the TV says there’s almost no way to refuel between here and there.”

  I could tell Charles was getting over
the shock and anger at being called out, and now he was focusing on the challenges ahead. That was good, since maybe he would survive long enough to get off our property.

  “Oh, we’ve got you another set of wheels, and enough fuel in cans to get you there,” I replied confidently. “We’ll be back with your new truck and plenty of gas to get you there. Just get your stuff together and leave Mary’s things here for now.”

  I knew he wouldn’t need long to pack, since everything they’d managed to salvage from their home had arrived in their little car. As we drove away, I explained the idea I had about Charles’ transport, and how we could kill two birds with one stone in the process. First stop was at the house to pick up the papers for the Fitts property, which Nikki had thoughtfully printed out the night before.

  The numbers were, quite frankly, about two-thirds of what we’d been prepared to pay, so closing on the property was a no-brainer. I hated to profit from that family’s misfortune, but the lack of heirs and the needs of the county for some source of income made a great deal of sense. Part of the state and federal disaster relief package involved a suspension of county property taxes, which would otherwise be due by the end of the year. I was torn over the implication of that measure, but I had to admit the wisdom. Those taxes, while vital to keeping the county operating, would be nearly impossible to collect in the near future, anyway. Unemployed people had a hard time paying taxes, and the last thing the county needed was more hassle with foreclosing on distressed homes.

  Part of that plan involved a partial payment in cash, so I made sure the voluminous trial case I sometimes used for work went in Mike’s truck before we left the house. The next stop was at Wade’s, where I touched base with our neighbors and started the process of writing up the other documents I’d printed from my stored computer drive, and then Mike and I finally headed into town.

  As Mike drove, I sat with my rifle in my lap, and my head on a swivel. As we approached the small bridge and the site of the ambush the day before, I felt my tension level rise, and waited for the crack of incoming rounds. When nothing happened and we bumped over the bridge, Mike spared a considering look in my direction.

  “Congratulations, brother. You are now officially a member of the club.”

  “What club is that?”

  “You’ve crossed over from newbie into veteran,” Mike explained expansively. “You’re scanning the terrain, watchful of ambush, and ready to act instead of reacting.”

  “Yeah, thanks. I never thought I’d be living up to the family legacy this way.”

  “Man, that’s all bullcrap anyway. We share more genetic material with the Thomas’ side than we do with ol’ JW, and he was deputy U.S. Marshal. And you aren’t doing anything but helping keep us and our people alive.”

  I sighed before making my admission. “I’m starting to feel my temper get the best of me, Mike. I really, really wanted to just shoot Charles and cut out all this unnecessary garbage. That’s not exactly healthy.”

  “What? I thought I was the only one measuring him for a pine box,” Mike joked, then he grew more serious. “Wanting to pull the trigger on somebody who represents a threat to your family isn’t unreasonable under these circumstances, bro. What you’re worried about, I’ll bet, is more in the realm of being a sociopath. Trust me, you aren’t lacking in morals or empathy. You’re just very, how to put this, you are a very motivated individual. Always have been.”

  “Thanks, I think. I just worry. I also noticed Nancy has been pulling away from me in the last few days. It’s been so long since I was actually interested in a woman since I lost Colette, I can’t tell if I’m screwing that up, too.”

  Mike was just about the only person I felt comfortable enough with to share my inner fears, and we’d been apart too much recently for my own peace of mind. I always thought we made a good team, and adding Pat and Sally to the mix just took us to a new level.

  “Let’s get this done and go home,” I resolved. “I’ve been neglecting my responsibilities while chasing all over the county.”

  “Done. But have you thought about who we can put in the Bonner house now that Charlie’s going bye-bye and Mary’s coming to stay with us full-time?”

  “Can’t be Maddy or Cece,” I replied automatically. “At least not yet. They need more seasoning first. Charles was a shit, but at least he could shoot a little. Sally and Billy are just the opposite. Sally’s good with her rifle, but she still needs time to heal, so more weeks with us before she’s ready.”

  “What about adding another family we can trust?”

  “You got anybody in mind? If it’s Barbara, I’d think again. Love her to death, but she’s not exactly frontline material, and her husband is even worse.”

  I knew it was a cold comment for me to make, but my former secretary was the last person I wanted to spend the apocalypse forted up with in the frozen days to come. She might be a wizard with scheduling and kept me up to date on all the latest gossip, but she also lacked the common sense God gave a lemming. Worse, she was married to a chronic alcoholic who made sure there was a liquor store within walking distance of their house since he lost his driver’s license.

  “No, the Fussells. Mark and Stacy.”

  “Oh, crap, I forgot all about them. I wonder if they are still managing Nancy’s old apartment complex?”

  Stacy Peveto had been a classmate of ours in high school. I’d lost track of her over the years, but we’d reconnected after I bought the old Ferguson place and moved to Albany County. She’d met Mark in college, and they owned a real estate and property management company together. In addition to offering on-site management services, they also owned several rental houses in the area. Stacy was the one with the business degree from Sam Houston, but Mark Fussell was the carpenter, plumber, and all-around handyman who made it all work.

  “They have this new invention called a cell phone. I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept, if not the application. Let’s get where we are going in one piece and I’ll explain in more detail,” Mike teased, and I smacked his shoulder with the back of my left hand. My right hand never released the pistol grip of the rifle in my lap.

  “I can’t believe I missed something so obvious,” I complained. “Heck, Stacy and Mark were some of the first friends I made after I got here. And I know Mark is just the kind of person we could use.”

  “You’ve had a lot on your plate, Bryan. I’m not surprised you’ve missed a few things in the rush. Yesterday is a perfect example of what I’m talking about.” Mike replied on a consoling tone.

  “Was it like this in Iraq?” I asked. I’d asked that question before, but the circumstances had changed a bit since then.

  “Not exactly, but the similarities are starting to pile up. Shoot-outs in the middle of the night, roadside ambushes. I worry about when we’ll start seeing IEDs being used, though.”

  “Ever find out what the riot at the refugee camp was about yesterday?”

  Mike took his eyes off the road for a moment and gave me a look I couldn’t read until he spoke. Then, I understood.

  “Yeah, heard about it from the deputies at the hospital. They were getting the rolls set up. Seems the sheriff was right. They’ll be restarting the draft soon. Males eighteen to thirty, and they are looking for prior service. Somebody in the camp didn’t like the idea of their little snowflake getting kitted out in camouflage, I presume.”

  “Is this Federal, or State?” I wondered. We had heard very little out of Washington in the last few weeks, other than the President’s little weekly pep talks regarding the state of the recovery. Those were so bland and fact-free that only the most devoted of his followers bothered to tune in and listen. Not that I was being overly critical. What was he supposed to say? I could just imagine how that press briefing might go.

  Buck up, citizens, because millions of you are going to starve to death or freeze this winter, and your government will be powerless to stop it. And once that’s done, we can expect another three killer imp
acts to ruin whatever is left of the world. That is all, so go on about your business.

  No, I wouldn’t want to hear that broadcast, even if it was the truth.

  “You know, we are growing from a simple farmstead and growing into an intentional community, if everything works like we are planning,” Mike observed, interrupting my grim musings.

  “That’s fine,” I retorted. “I’m nominating you for mayor when we get this done. You did inherit the politician gene, after all.”

  “Why would you say something hurtful like that? Take it back,” Mike demanded, and I found myself chuckling as we pulled up to a stop in the courthouse parking lot. Mike has what he liked to call a natural allergy to anything that smacked of political involvement.

  The annex where the County Property Offices were located was just next door to the actual courthouse, so we would take care of this little property chore first before ducking in to see the Sheriff.

  “Face it, Mike, if things really are going to crap, we’re going to need your mad Mr. Wizard skills. And that means you can’t be out there totting a rifle with the rest of us cannon fodder. Even if we didn’t need you busy producing gun cotton, that intentional community you mentioned will also need you and Susanne, and probably Mary, teaching the young’uns. Back to the classrooms for you.”

  “I do miss the teaching,” he confessed as we exited the truck. The sight of the bullet holes scoring the windshield and hood seemed out of place, but I noticed it was far from the only one in that condition. Especially when I looked at the county vehicles. More than one showed a familiar pockmark in the sheet metal or fiberglass.

  “We’ll get you a classroom set up in no time,” I remarked as I slung my rifle and picked up my trial bag. The more I thought about it, the more I realized we needed to protect my brother. Not just for the usual reasons, either, but because in the long run, his range of knowledge and education would almost certainly prove more valuable than those of a burned-out lawyer. I filed that thought away for later. Something to discuss with Pat in private, anyway. Now I needed to focus on completing this land deal, and then getting back home alive.