“Are you saying that's what I'm doing?” Ricky demanded, a bit defensive.
“No, not really,” Nick said. “But you might be holding those negative feelings inside instead, and that's not healthy either. I've noticed you've been a bit more glum than usual these last few months.”
“Maybe.” His son pulled his knees up to his chest, looking miserable. “But what else can I do when everything is so crazy? When so many people have died, and we're living in dirt houses in someone's backyard.” His voice raised. “And now you're being punished for trying to help people, and you have to leave us for a really long time.”
“All of that's true,” Nick said slowly. “But when life doesn't go our way, instead of getting mad and bitter about it, we need to try extra hard to change things.” Ricky looked dubious, and Nick reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. “And you know, you've been doing that most of the time. You've really been great through all this . . . we couldn't have made it without you.”
His son looked up slowly. “Really?”
“Really. You did more than I ever thought you'd be able to. Especially when we had to be separated, and you did such a great job taking care of yourself and Tallie.” He looked up at his daughter, directing Ricky's eyes that way as well. “And I'm counting on you to keep on doing a great job looking out for your sister, and helping your mom, while I'm gone. Can you do that?”
Ricky nodded, looking suddenly determined.
“Good.” Nick pulled him into a hug, feeling his voice catch. “I love you.” He looked up at Tallie. “Both of you. You'll always be in my thoughts.”
His son hugged him back tightly. “I'm going to miss you, Dad,” he said, voice thick.
“You too, buddy.” Nick pulled back so he could look into Ricky's tear-filled eyes. “But we've gotten through worse than this. We'll get through this, too.”
Around them the hubbub of farewells between volunteers and those staying behind began to gradually die down, and Nick looked up to see people turning in the direction of the relief workers' dismantled camp. He straightened, a hand on Ricky's shoulder, and turned to see Gorstrom approaching, flanked by her aides and a handful of soldiers.
An expectant silence settled as she made her way to the front of the group of prisoners and lifted a bullhorn. “Listen up, all those entering the work program,” she boomed, then paused and turned towards the larger crowd of volunteers, including Nick, Gen, and Billy. “And the rest of you should pay attention too, because it'll be good for you to hear.”
With a bit of bitter amusement, Nick wondered if that was her indirect way of saying she was also talking to him, Denny, Starr, and the others who'd been allowed to stay with the volunteers rather than being separated out.
Wouldn't surprise him.
Gorstrom slipped her phone out of her pocket and checked it, then tucked it away again and jotted something on the clipboard she held before raising the megaphone again. “As of now, your work sentences officially begin. I now transfer you to the care of Lieutenant Tullis, who will ensure your safe and orderly transit to the Gulf Coast, where you will be delivered to your respective work programs.”
She paused, expression stern but not unkind. “I don't want you to think of this as punishment, but as an opportunity. You'll be doing important work for the rebuilding of our great country, helping us to return to the prosperity we once enjoyed. And more importantly, you'll be benefitting yourselves as well, although it may be hard to see that now.”
The administrator paused to wave vaguely southwards. “This is a fresh start for you. Whatever chaos you may have been involved in during the pandemic, it's now over, and you can begin as changed men and women living honest, honorable lives. As well, you can expect good accommodations, plentiful food, and reasonable work hours in our work programs.”
She smiled grimly. “In fact, I'm confident you'll find the programs so reasonable that it wouldn't surprise me if many of you elect to stay on and work for generous wages once you've paid your debt to society. An option that will be open to you . . . all forms of labor are in high demand, and resources are plentiful, so you'll never want for gainful employment. It's a chance to work towards a better future for yourselves and your loved ones, doing useful service to the rebuilding effort.”
Nick suppressed a bitter snort at that. Gorstrom might be telling the truth, but considering the way she'd strong-armed a bunch of good people into this work program of hers, nobody was going to be eating up the rosy picture she was painting for them.
Apparently done with her little speech, the relief administrator turned to the soldier standing beside her, a new face Nick hadn't seen before; he'd probably arrived today to take charge of the prisoners. “Lieutenant, they're all yours,” she said, offering him the bullhorn.
Lieutenant Tullis accepted it with a polite nod. “Thank you, Administrator.” He turned towards the prisoners. “This will be a straightforward trip, folks. We'll load you onto your transportation, drive you south for half a day or so, then install you in your new accommodations to prepare to begin your new work programs bright and early in the morning.”
He held up three fingers. “I have only three rules for this trip, simple and easy to follow. One, you stay where you're put unless told to move. Two, you may talk, but I'll have no disturbances. Keep the noise level down, and no arguments. Three, keep your hands to yourselves . . . there'll be no contact of any sort with other prisoners. And it goes without saying that if you try to lay hands on any of my people, it will be viewed as an aggressive move and you'll be lucky to get off with a broken nose.”
The officer paused, giving the huddle of prisoners a baleful glare. “Break any of these rules, and we'll have a problem. I do not want to have a problem, and you really don't want to have a problem. Questions?”
If anyone had any, they were smart enough to keep them to themselves after that speech. Nick felt another surge of pity for Chet, Ben, Chase, Larry, Liza, and everyone else in that small group of people.
He was well aware of how easily he could've been there with them.
While Tullis began organizing the prisoners, Gorstrom and her aides returned to the convoy, which was all loaded up and ready to go. The vehicles all rumbled into life, and with no more ceremony than that they took the road that circled Stanberry to the west and disappeared.
On to the next town.
That left Nick and the others feeling a bit abandoned, twiddling their thumbs as they waited for their own rides.
Thankfully it was only a few minutes before a distant rumbling resolved into a line of buses making their way towards Stanberry. Nick counted thirty, which was enough to hold a thousand people and then some, assuming each held forty people. In case more people volunteered at the last minute?
Nick turned and gave Ellie and the kids one last round of goodbye hugs, feeling his heart ache at the sight of the tears in Tallie's eyes and her refusal to let him go.
Oddly enough, his daughter had always been mostly fine with Ellie going on trips because it happened so often, but when Nick had to leave for a trip she always took it hard. Although that had changed a bit during his and Ellie's separation, when shared visitation meant Tallie was constantly having to say goodbye to either him or Ellie depending on who she was going to stay with.
It had given her a chance to get more used to it, and he thought she over taking farewells this hard.
His and Ellie's attempts to explain him leaving to their daughter in the best possible light must've been less than completely successful. Ricky certainly knew that things weren't all the rosy story of rebuilding the country like Gorstrom talked about.
But he was confident that, painful as their separation would be, his kids would weather it bravely. Both of them had needed to grow up quickly during this disaster, and they'd adapted well to the new circumstances.
Even so, he was worried they wouldn't be able to slip so easily back into a normal childhood as things got back to the way they'd been. Zolos h
ad left its scars on all of them, even those it hadn't directly touched.
The buses all laboriously turned around to face back southward, then parked far enough away from the crowd of waiting volunteers to allow for organized loading. Relief workers quickly emerged to begin separating everyone into groups and assigning them to buses, and everything became about as chaotic as you'd expect for the task of loading over a thousand people onto thirty buses.
Meanwhile two more buses, painted differently from the others, stopped in front of Tullis and the prisoners. Guards armed with crowd control gear emerged from these ones and began loading up everyone in that group, not roughly but definitely without the patient tones and cheerful demeanors of the relief workers.
With a last regretful look at his children, Nick loaded himself up with his and Gen's meager possessions, while she carried a suitcase with Billy's things in one hand and held her son's hand with the other. Together, they allowed themselves to be directed to one of the buses, and boarded it in an orderly fashion with the other volunteers.
For good or ill, they were part of the rebuilding efforts now. He just hoped Gorstrom hadn't painted a rosy picture of what things were actually like.
The workers insisted on two people per bench, so Nick got Gen and Billy settled on one and took the seat across the aisle from them, next to an older man he didn't recognize. And after that they just waited; in spite of the relief workers' cheerful requests for everyone to get settled quickly so they could leave, it was another half hour or so before the entire line of buses was filled, all the last minute problems were sorted out, and they were ready to leave.
Nick spent that time staring out the window at his friends and family, who spent most of the time waving goodbye. He wasn't alone in that; pretty much everyone on the bus was also craning to keep their loved ones in sight for as long as possible.
But finally, the bus lurched beneath him and joined the line headed south, towards the Gulf Coast.
After about fifteen minutes of driving, the people on the bus with them began singing songs to pass the time. Billy was quick to sing along, Gen joining him, and Nick followed suit even though he didn't sing often and felt a bit self-conscious about his voice.
That lasted about a half hour, singing the usual music people were happy to sing along to, and then the general consensus of the crowd shifted to patriotic songs.
Nick enjoyed those songs and didn't hesitate to join in, but considering his own circumstances and that of the other prisoners, he thought his neighbors wanting to sing them now was some kind of bizarre zealotry on their part.
Then he remembered that the 4th of July was only a few days away. In fact, before Gorstrom went on her justice rampage Ellie and Gen and some of the others in their group had been discussing how they were going to celebrate the holiday, especially since with the vaccine and new supplies they had so much more to celebrate.
Gen shot him a wry look as the song began, probably thinking along the same lines. But with Billy's voice rising loud and enthusiastic but slightly off key over the other singers, she couldn't help but grin at Nick over her son's head.
He couldn't help but grin back as they continued singing, settling in for the trip to start their new lives.
Whatever lay ahead, they'd face it together.
Epilogue
Looking Ahead
“This is our apartment?” Gen asked, looking around in disbelief.
Nick didn't comment, although he was equally surprised; in terms of square footage, it was probably as big as his and Gen's old apartments in Kansas City combined, with four bedrooms and one and a half bathrooms. Not to mention a large kitchen and living area.
And it was fully furnished, probably with everything the previous occupants had owned before they died or were evacuated. Nice furniture, too, tasteful and in good condition.
“That's right,” the FARR worker assigned to them said uncertainly, as if preparing for complaints. She checked her clipboard. “I have you listed as a couple with one dependent, and possibly two more dependents in the future, correct? If it's not big enough . . .”
“Oh no, it's fine,” Nick said hastily. “Bigger than we expected, actually.”
“Oh. Yeah.” The worker, part of the new Federal Agency for Relocation and Rebuilding, nodded in understanding. “Well we're not exactly struggling for housing . . . just the opposite, really. Over seventy percent of Houston's population died during the pandemic, and the soldiers stationed here were able to prevent most looting and vandalism and keep the buildings intact. So we've got plenty of room.”
She checked her list again. “In fact, once we get things better organized we can probably move you into a house. You're listed as Tier Three, so you'd be pretty high on the list if you requested one.”
Nick still wasn't 100% sure of the specifics of the tier system, other than that Tier One was apparently high ranked government and military leaders, Tier Two was managers and administrators and specific VIPs, Tier Three included educated or skilled laborers whose professions were in high demand, and Tiers Four and Five were for those doing jobs that required less education or skill or weren't in as high demand.
He couldn't exactly complain about where he'd landed on that list. In fact, everything they'd seen so far of the rebuilding effort, and their place in it, was proving to be surprisingly hopeful.
For all her cutthroat nature in strong-arming them into this situation in the first place, it looked as if Gorstrom had proven true to her word about what they could expect. The trip here had been efficient but with due attention paid to their comfort, and they'd spent the night in a clean, safe facility converted into a dormitory for new arrivals. The food had been tasty and there'd been lots of it, and they'd had access to restrooms and even hot water for showers, although on a timer so they didn't waste water.
Then they'd spent the next morning in interviews, making sure the FARR workers knew their situation and Nick's particular talents so he could be assigned to the most suitable job. If any of the workers were aware of his unique position as part of a mandatory work program for the next three years, they showed no sign of it and treated him with every courtesy.
The job he'd been assigned to was as part of the group managing the area's networks and information systems, particularly in service to relief services and FARR's rebuilding efforts. From the description it was mostly stuff he'd done before, and anything he didn't know he should be able to pick up quickly.
As for Gen, since she had a child and she was with Nick who had his Tier Three status, he'd be able to provide for all of them; she wouldn't have to work unless she wanted to, and for now they'd agreed she'd focus on settling in with Billy.
Although surprisingly, the more they'd seen of the rebuilding efforts, the more enthusiastic she'd become about them doing their part. He almost got the feeling she wouldn't mind finding ways to help out where she could.
The FARR worker went through some quick details about the apartment with them, all the while extolling its virtues, along with that of Houston itself. It was obvious she was proud of what they'd accomplished here, the major steps they'd taken towards rebuilding from Zolos, and considered him and Gen now equal participants of that effort.
Nick didn't really disagree with her, either. He didn't recall ever visiting Houston, aside from maybe passing through on trips, but from what he'd seen the FARR worker was right that it had weathered the pandemic far better than KC.
Almost none of it had been ravaged by fires, rioting, or looting, and driving through it to get here it had looked mostly intact. And judging by the state of this apartment, the interiors of the buildings were in nearly as good shape as the exteriors.
In spite of his circumstances, he was finding himself looking forward to being here.
“Well, that should be it, Mr. Statton, Ms. Foss,” the FARR worker said briskly after a few minutes. “I've got a lot of people to move into their new homes today, so I'll leave you to settle in. You've got your phone, r
ight?”
Nick nodded. He and Gen had both been issued new, working phones, complete with texting and limited internet. Mostly connected to the government's networks behind serious security clearance, so they couldn't really do much with the internet at the moment, but it promised that in the future they'd have more options.
It was just your basic smart phone, years out of date, but even so it felt surreal to have one again, even though he'd spent his entire adult life taking them for granted.
“Good,” the FARR worker said. “Your new boss will contact you with details for what you'll be doing and when you'll get started. If you need anything else, you have my number.”
She bustled out, leaving them to explore their new apartment.
Nick's first impression that it was a nice place was only confirmed as they looked around the roomy bedrooms with plenty of closet space, the well-appointed bathrooms, and the kitchen and living area. Especially compared to their previous living conditions in Stanberry, it was downright luxurious.
Gen seemed to agree, because she was bubbly and enthusiastic during the entire tour. She actually shouted for joy when she tried the sinks and water came out of the faucets, and shouted again when she discovered the hot water worked, too. She stood in front of the air conditioner for almost a minute with her eyes shut and a huge grin on her face, and almost cried when she found the washer and dryer.
“I never want to wash clothes by hand again!” she said, grabbing Nick's hands and pulling him into dancing in a circle. He went along gamely, happier to see her so excited than he was about the nice apartment itself.
After relying on her to speak on his behalf to Billy's grandparents when he and his kids first arrived in Stanberry, an unbelievably huge ask, and basically living like a squatter in their backyard with little to offer, it felt good to be able to provide her and Billy with the lives they deserved.
Isolation | Book 4 | Holding On Page 32