THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5

by Steven Konkoly

  “This is Liberty North. Read you loud and clear. Authenticate Lucky Town.”

  “I authenticate Local Hero. Over.”

  “Welcome back, sir.”

  “Good job on the RT procedure. Picture perfect. Any traffic since we left?”

  “Negative. The special-purpose group kept everyone corralled north while they went house to house. How did you get onto Porterfield from the north?”

  “Small jeep trail I saw on 160. I marked the coordinates. We’ll probably make a few adjustments to Liberty North’s location so we can keep an eye on it,” he said, glaring at Grizzly.

  “Copy that. You should be able to see us right about now,” said the sentry post.

  A pair of headlights shined through a cluster of thick bushes next to a dilapidated gray barn. Four flashes.

  “Flash them back. Three times.”

  “Track number three,” said Grizzly.

  “That’s right. You a fan of The Boss?”

  “Hell, I grew up on The Boss—sir. Used to drive down to Hartford once a year to see him. Fourteen shows.”

  “No shit? Hit the lights, Griz, before they light us up.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, flashing the high beams three times.

  “Secondary authentication complete,” said Liberty North.

  They passed a small clearing on the left with a mobile home and an aboveground pool in the front yard before reaching the checkpoint. An F-150-sized pickup truck sat hidden in the brush, parked at a narrow angle to the two-lane road. If they had failed the first authentication sequence, the F-150 would have raced onto the bumpy pavement, blocking their path. Eli waved at one of the sentries standing near the road with a pump-action shotgun, who saluted him.

  Now that’s what I’m talking about. Someone with a little discipline.

  “Good job, boys. Liberty Actual, out.”

  Eli turned back to Grizzly. “I’m putting you in charge of the daily security code. Different album every day. Pick the track. One member from each group leaving the compound gets the information, along with the sentries. Changes every twenty-four hours, with the morning swap out. The light trick is a little insurance policy, in case the group is compromised. If we were under duress, you could have flashed twice or six times. Bam! They would have opened fire without warning.”

  “Pretty clever, sir.”

  “Eli. Any man that’s seen The Boss fourteen times can call me by my first name. I’ve only seen him twice.”

  Ten minutes later, after passing two more hidden checkpoints, they pulled up to the farmhouse. McCulver stood up from one of the rocking chairs and met him at the foot of the covered porch’s stairs.

  “How’d we do?” Eli asked over the hood of the SUV.

  “Long day, but we cleared out the properties all the way to Kennard Hill Road, then circled back toward Route 160 and vacated those premises. The York County sheriff’s cruiser came in handy.”

  “Any trouble?”

  “No,” said McCulver, “but Jimmy’s guys are, uh—a little out of control.”

  “How so?” Eli asked, guiding McCulver onto the porch so the men getting out of the SUV wouldn’t hear.

  “They’re a little quick to pull the trigger. We didn’t bring anyone back to help out with the farm work.”

  “Well, we don’t have enough people to watch over prisoners anyway. Not yet,” said Eli, sensing there was more.

  “And they don’t take orders very well. Not from me, at least. We had some delays while they toyed around with some of the survivors. If we weren’t short on personnel, I would have killed them on the spot. Looks like some prison habits rubbed off on them.”

  “You better watch that,” snarled Eli, tensing his fists.

  “I’m only bringing it up because it’s a liability. We had eight homesteads to clear on Porterfield, and these sick fucks spent an hour in the first house.”

  “I’ll have a talk with them,” said Eli.

  “Good, because they’re multiplying. They took two of the minivans out this afternoon and collected more ‘Vikings,’ as they like to say. They came back with seven recruits, all armed to the teeth and about as scary looking as Jimmy’s crew.”

  “That’s good news,” said Eli.

  “If you can control them. I meant absolutely no disrespect toward your brother, but this is a dangerous group. We have to watch them closely, or we could have a ‘situation’ on our hands. I’ll feel more comfortable when we’ve doubled our numbers,” said McCulver.

  “You think they might mutiny?”

  “How much time did you spend with them before all of this happened?”

  “Not much. Jimmy kept a close leash on—”

  “And Jimmy’s dead. If you’d seen what they did to that family, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

  “If they’d disobeyed my orders, I would have killed them,” stated Eli.

  McCulver squinted, clearly considering his next words. Eli knew what he wanted to say. The question was whether McCulver had the good sense to keep it to himself. Eli didn’t care what kind of collateral damage Jimmy’s ‘Vikings’ did during their assigned operations, as long as they obeyed orders and accomplished the mission. He hoped Kevin was wrong about the possibility of a mutiny. He’d need their help.

  “I have an idea that will keep them occupied while we build up the core militia group. I’ll show you inside,” McCulver said, opening the front door to the farmhouse. “How was your foray along the 302?”

  He chose those words wisely, Eli thought to himself. McCulver continued to impress him, even if he sensed a touch of insubordination.

  “Unbelievably productive. We signed up an entire town.”

  McCulver paused, searching his face for a sign that he was joking.

  “They just don’t know it yet,” continued Eli.

  “Sounds interesting,” he said, directing Eli to the dining room.

  A large-scale map of southern Maine covered half of the rectangular table, along with scattered notebooks and pencils.

  “Which town?”

  “Bridgton. Met with the town council and the chief of police about helping them train up some of their folks to help man their checkpoints. Told them we can train them in basic firearms procedures, military-style cover and concealment. Enough to handle their own needs.”

  “That must have been one of your best performances. Sorry I missed it.”

  “Well, most of it was spent on my knees with a gun to my head, but it worked out better than I anticipated,” Eli said, circling Bridgton on the map with one of the pencils. “Shit, it was like winning the lottery.”

  “I presume we get something out of the deal?”

  “While we train their people at our compound,” he said, winking, “we’ll provide them with men, on a trial basis, to work at each checkpoint. If it all works out, this will get their police officers back into a patrol role within the town. They’re having a bit of a problem handling the summer crowd. I was more than happy to help out.”

  “They bought off on having armed militia in town?”

  “Only at the checkpoints, and our folks will be unarmed.”

  “Unarmed?”

  “To build trust,” he said, grinning wickedly.

  “You got me, Eli. What am I missing? I figure this isn’t your charitable side flaring up.”

  “Am I that easy to read?”

  “Not for the good people of Bridgton, apparently.”

  Eli pounded the table, laughing. “And I thought everyone’s sense of humor faded away with the electricity. You should have seen the car ride today. Holy Jesus, I was riding around with a bunch of stiffs.”

  “So what exactly am I missing?”

  “You’re missing the part where we simultaneously execute half of Bridgton’s police force and take over the town.”

  McCulver studied the map, tracing roads from Bridgton toward the coast.

  “How do you see Bridgton fitting into all of this in the long run? It can�
��t be our new base of operations. Too exposed.”

  “I figured we’d get as many new recruits as possible, even if we have to conscript folks. Grab enough people to work the fields. Probably take as much equipment as possible. Tractors. Buses. Any of the public works stuff that’ll still run,” said Eli.

  “So, you don’t want to hold on to the town permanently?” said McCulver.

  “Like you said, it’ll just make us targets. We’ll keep it long enough to get what we need.”

  McCulver placed his finger on a point halfway between Sebago Lake and Portland.

  “Did you know there’s a state correctional facility in Windham?”

  “Jimmy spent some time there.”

  “So did most of the guys in his crew. They think we might be able to solve our recruiting problem with a trip to the facility. Might be a solution to our manpower issues.”

  “I assume the prison guards won’t let me set up a booth in the cafeteria to take volunteers,” said Eli.

  “Probably not.” McCulver laughed. “But I wouldn’t be completely surprised if the guards haven’t taken off already. They spent over a hundred million dollars rebuilding the entire men’s facility three years ago, and everything’s automated, completely dependent on electricity. Once the juice stops flowing to the system, every secure door in that facility goes into countdown mode. Thirty minutes until every secure door opens permanently. I guarantee the corrections officers are keeping a close eye on the backup generator’s fuel supply. We just need to get there before the doors open, or we’ll miss the recruiting opportunity.”

  “Then what the fuck are we waiting for? Let’s get some eyes on that prison.”

  Chapter 9

  EVENT +5 Days

  Limerick, Maine

  Alex kissed Emily on the forehead and stroked her hair for a few seconds. “Good night, sweetie. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Dad. When is Ryan coming down?”

  “Really soon.”

  “Can you send him down now?”

  “He should be down in a few minutes.”

  “Is everyone going to sleep down here?”

  “Most of us will be upstairs, keeping an eye on the house, but Nana and Grandpa will be down here. The old people need their sleep,” he said, and his daughter laughed.

  “I heard that,” said his mother, who was propped up on an air mattress next to the door leading out of the “bunker.” The 20-gauge shotgun leaned against the wall next to the mattress.

  “What about the Thorntons and Mr. Walker?”

  “They’ve been down here all night. We’re airing them out for a while. You’re in good hands down here, sweetie. Nobody can get in here without going through all of us first.”

  “I wish you and Mom could sleep down here.”

  “Me too, but you’re safer with us upstairs. You have Ethan and Kevin sound asleep right next to you.”

  “I’m not asleep,” said Ethan.

  “You should be asleep,” said Alex.

  “I’m not either,” Kevin chimed in.

  “Great. Well, your cousins can attest to Nana’s skill with a shotgun, and so can I.”

  Emily sighed. “I wish there were more Marines.”

  “Nana’s like three Marines combined,” he said, and they laughed.

  “Watch where you’re going with that,” said his mom, Amy Fletcher.

  “We’ll have more Marines here in a few days,” he said and kissed Emily again. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too, Daddy.”

  “Love you, guys.”

  “Love you, Uncle Alex,” Kevin and Ethan mumbled.

  “Things will get back to normal. I promise,” Alex said and stepped away.

  Samantha Walker and her three children appeared in the doorway.

  “See? The basement’s filling up fast,” he said and walked over to the door to greet her. “We have a bunch of camping mattresses for the kids. Blankets, sleeping bags, non-shot-up pillows—a couple of overprotective grandparents. I think the kids will be fine down here.”

  “Perfect. Thank you,” said Samantha, stepping through the door with her family.

  “I only charge ten dollars an hour,” said Alex’s mom.

  “I brought a nineteen-year-old. Do I get a discount?”

  “Can she use a shotgun?”

  “Not yet,” said Chloe.

  “Seven dollars.”

  “Deal,” said Samantha.

  “They can take whatever makes them comfortable,” Alex offered. “I don’t think we’ll be spending much time down here tonight.”

  “Probably not,” Samantha said, leading her kids into the candlelit room.

  “Abby, thanks for hooking up my laptop to the video receivers. From what I understand, you’re running the tech show around here.”

  “Pretty much,” said Samantha’s daughter.

  “She was the only one that could read your writing,” said Amy.

  “Funny, Mom. I’ll see you upstairs in a few.”

  Alex walked over to the bulkhead and flashed his light at the metal doors, confirming that they were latched to the ringbolts imbedded in the basement floor. No matter how hard anyone tried, the doors would not swing open unless he detached the thick metal retaining rods from the bolts. Satisfied that the basement was secure, he walked upstairs into the kitchen, which was lit by a combination of candles and green chemlights donated by the Marines. Staff Sergeant Evans sat at the kitchen island, scrolling through the ruggedized tablet he had removed from the Matvee. His face glowed from the soft red screen.

  “Are the Marines settled in for the night?”

  “Yes, sir. I have the vehicles positioned to give 360-degree coverage, two Marines in each vehicle. We set up an LP/OP at the entrance to Gelder Pond Lane. I had them move into position after dark. They have clear lines of sight down the eastern side of the road in front of your property and the road leading to the western side. Ideally, we’d have another along the pond, but I’m the only one left. I’ll be on the thirty-cal up in the master bedroom. I can cover nearly 270 degrees around the house from that room.”

  “Perfect. I’ll come by around zero-two-hundred to give you a break.”

  “I should be fine, sir.”

  “When’s the last time you caught any meaningful sleep?”

  “It’s been a while,” Evans admitted.

  “I’ll at least bring you and your Marines some coffee.”

  “Sounds like a fair deal.”

  “Thank you, Staff Sergeant. This means a lot to me, my family—all of us,” said Alex.

  “I’m just glad we can help out while we’re here. I’d want someone doing that for me,” said Evans.

  “Anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask. I know you guys are temporarily assigned under my command, but I consider this to be a personal favor that you’re doing—”

  Evans started to protest.

  “Nope. I don’t want to hear any arguments to the contrary. My house is your house. Seriously.”

  “Well, I don’t—”

  “Staff Sergeant?” Alex said, shaking his head. “You need something, you ask, or send someone who doesn’t mind asking.”

  “Thank you, sir. I was going to say, that between your mother and your wife, we haven’t had to ask. They’ve been really generous. Very much appreciated.”

  “Good, then I’ll expect you to catch up on some sleep tonight,” said Alex, patting him on the back.

  “I wouldn’t go that far, sir.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I’ll get out of your way,” said Evans, grabbing his tablet and rifle.

  “Good night, Staff Sergeant.”

  “Night, sir.”

  Alex walked into the great room, searching for a seat. Unsurprisingly, half of the group appeared to be asleep. Breathing deeply, Ed Walker lay on an air mattress pushed under the windows to the right. He was turned on one side; his bandaged hip off the mattress. Linda and Charlie sat side by side on the lea
ther couch, with their bandaged legs resting on small pillows on the coffee table. The soft, flickering glow of candlelight from one of the end tables exposed Charlie’s gaping mouth, though his buzz-saw-like snoring left little doubt about his status. Linda hit her husband’s shoulder.

  “What? What happened?” he said, jolted out of a shallow sleep.

  “I just figured out why we got kicked out of the basement,” said Linda.

  “What do you mean?” asked Charlie.

  “You sound like a foghorn.”

  “It’s not that bad,” he countered.

  “It’s pretty bad, my friend,” Alex said. “I’m starting to wonder how we still have the Jeep.”

  “He probably scared everyone away,” added Ed.

  “I used those nose strips,” said Charlie.

  “I hope you stocked up, for Linda’s sake,” said Kate.

  She sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the bullet-peppered wall to the left. She was partially concealed in the shadow cast by the La-Z-Boy occupied by his father. In the dim light, the room almost looked normal, except for the numerous dark splotches in the drywall and the various rifles leaned against the furniture or walls. Alex unslung his rifle and hung it on the wood-burning stove, taking a seat in one of the folding chairs set up around the coffee table.

  “Sam should be right up,” said Alex. “She was getting the kids settled.”

  “What about Ryan? He’s been up in his perch long enough,” said Kate.

  “I’ll have a talk with him. I don’t think Emily will fall asleep without him in the basement.”

  “I’d sleep better knowing he was upstairs,” said Ed. “He saved our skins yesterday.”

  “I wonder where he gets that from?” said Linda.

  “Runs in the family,” said Kate. “Alex’s dad served two tours in Vietnam as a Marine lieutenant.”

  “I didn’t know your dad was in ’Nam. You should have said something, Alex,” said Charlie.

  “He’s pretty much read every book and watched every documentary on the Vietnam War—twice,” said Linda.

  “More than that,” added Charlie.

  “Dad clams up pretty quick when the subject is brought up, except around his Marine Corps buddies,” said Alex.