Killswitch Chronicles- The Complete Anthology

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Killswitch Chronicles- The Complete Anthology Page 30

by G. R. Carter


  A show of coffee stained teeth, not quite a smile and not quite a snarl, made her appearance change. “Okay, Darwin, we’re here to talk things over. Guess if you’re gonna give us a chance to be here, we’ll give ya the lowdown on what we know,” Erline said.

  Darwin turned to Kara. “How’s about Erline and I step inside to talk in private? I think maybe that’d ease a bit a tension. Okay? You go ahead with the meetin’ here without us.”

  Kara shifted uneasily. She wanted to object, but couldn’t think of any immediate reason. It made some sense, and she trusted Darwin. Still, something didn’t feel right.

  Darwin’s expression told her he was going to do it either way, so she nodded to go along. She watched the two walk inside, his hand lightly on her back in the friendly way he was so good at. When they were out of sight, she walked up the stairs to the back patio to speak to the crowd. She nodded to the Kaplan men, trying to be cordial yet strong. At the top rail she looked out at the collection of local farmers and townspeople—likely 200–300 in total.

  They all looked to her, quiet now and wondering what answers she might have. She sighed. There were no answers, just more questions. But someone had to do something, right or wrong. Someone had to decide. She glanced once more at the lodge's back door, wondering what Darwin and Erline were discussing.

  She gathered her thoughts. “Well, thanks for coming, everyone. I mean it. I know you’ve all got a lot going on, trying to keep a little bit of normal life going on for your farms and businesses. Sy and I called you all here today to talk about how we might try to keep things running a little smoother, at least until we get the electricity back on. So I thought I’d lay out our plan here for the lodge, then we’ll open up discussion about what you all think you might do.”

  She took another deep breath and smiled as big as she could. “We believe that this latest power outage might go on a little longer than the interruptions we’ve had before. I can get into some specifics about why we think that, but I’m less interested in the whys than I am about what’s next. If we’re right, it’ll be a while before we see any help from the state, the Feds, or anyone else outside our community.

  “Here’s how Ridgeview Lodge is going to survive the winter…”

  *****

  “We ain’t commies, Kara,” Burton Tucker said. The old man was wagging a gnarled finger at her. His hands were scarred from a lifetime of farm work, but still thick and able to make the point. “Each man needs to do for his. That’s what this country was founded on.”

  Kara tried her sweetest smile. “Tuck, nobody’s looking to take anything that’s yours. I’m just suggesting we can do better working together than apart. Even if we’re wrong about how long the electricity stays out, it’s still makes good sense to cooperate with one another for the time being.”

  “She’s right, Tuck,” Jeremiah Tomlinson said. Only Brown County lifers could call the area’s biggest landowner by his nickname. Jeremiah and Kara both easily met the standard. “Just like we been talkin’ since those folks from Old Main College came over and gave their talk.”

  Tucker waved off the suggestion. “You been talking cooperative for how long? You see anybody stepping up to help? No, they just sit around and wait for someone else to do all the hard work. Then maybe they’ll join. Be the same thing here. You and I—the Bradshaws too, I ‘spose—will put all the money and time in…then the rest of these mouth-breathers will be standing waiting to get a plateful.”

  “I’m tellin’ ya, Tuck, it’s different this time. Imagine what happens to those ‘mouth breathers,’” he stopped and air-quoted, “when’s there’s no food or heat? I think they’ll be comin’ to get your stuff…if you still got anything to get,” Jeremiah replied.

  “Let ‘em come,” Tucker snarled. “I got something for ‘em if they set foot on my land.”

  “All by yourself? You got what, two full-time hands total living on your place?”

  “And my son and his family,” Tucker protested.

  “Okay, fine. Say you got five or six people can handle a weapon at your farm. First off, you got over a thousand acres spread out around the county. How you gonna keep people off of there?” Jeremiah asked.

  Tucker said nothing. Jeremiah continued. “Even if you just take care of the home farm, you got several hundred acres, four houseplaces…that’s gonna spread you all real thin. People gotta sleep sometimes, even crotchety old coots like you.”

  Tucker still didn’t reply. His silence meant he understood the points. Stubbornness refused to acknowledge it.

  Kara softened her tone. “We’re not saying to move off the farm. We’re just suggesting that maybe we can take some of the town folks, volunteers that you would agree to, and move them out to your place. Think of them as free labor,” she assured him.

  “Ain’t nothing free about labor,” Tucker finally said. “We’ve got enough food put up for my hired hands and their families, but not much extra.”

  “We’re gonna gather everything we can from town and send that to you and any other farmers who are willing to take folks in,” Kara said.

  “Won’t be enough.”

  Kara placed her hand on Tucker’s shoulder. “A couple of our guests have a plan for that. You met one of them, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, the Aussie. Seemed like a BS artist to me. Flashing his expensive credit card around…”

  “Come on, Tuck, he was just tryin’ to help the Bradshaws,” Jeremiah said. “I didn’t take no offense.”

  Tucker seemed unconvinced. “I’m just saying. You youngsters don’t remember the outsiders coming into our town years ago, buying up everything that was worth a penny, then leaving us the scraps. Stupid trade deals, environmental regulations, government controlling everything we did…mostly ‘for own good,’ they said. Just telling ya: think it through when someone who ain’t from around here offers to help.”

  With that the old man turned and walked away, limping on a knee twice replaced.

  “That went well,” Kara sighed.

  “Actually, it went a lot better than I thought it could have. He’s gonna do it,” Jeremiah said.

  “Seriously?”

  “Oh yeah. He quit arguing and played the outsider card. That means we scored major points. He’ll do what we ask,” he said with a toothy smile through his bushy beard.

  The back door of the lodge closed, drawing their attention. Kara looked in time to see Erline Kaplan shake hands with Darwin and then with JR. The Kaplan family matriarch waved her hand to signal the rest of her family it was time to leave. Each man and woman dutifully threw their disposable plates and cups in the big open fire pit and followed without a word.

  Darwin and JR spoke quietly for a moment. Kara couldn’t make out the words, but there seemed to be some level of tension in their body language. Finally JR shook his head and walked back inside the lodge. Darwin stood for a moment, looked over at Kara and smiled. It wasn’t entirely convincing.

  “No worries, love. I think we’ve got ourselves some new friends,” he called out to her. With that, he followed JR back into the lodge.

  “Not sure how I feel about that,” Jeremiah said, loud enough for only Kara to hear. One of the lesser Kaplan cousins had been busted stealing anhydrous ammonia tanks from the fertilizer plant just a couple of years before. “Maybe Tuck was right about your friend.”

  “Right about who?” said a booming bass voice.

  “Well if it ain’t the long lost Sheriff Andy,” Jeremiah said with a smile as he and Kara turned to face the new arrival. Sheriff Andrew Isiah Moore—just Sheriff Andy to the locals—tried to forge a sinister look. He couldn’t hold the pose, and finally smiled back.

  Kara and Jeremiah both patted the man on the shoulder. Like most of the rest of the folks present, Moore was born local, went to school here, and had never moved away from Brown County. He had run for office unopposed—no one could remember how long ago that had been.

  “Glad to be back, believe me,” the sher
iff said, the smile draining away from his face.

  Kara saw the concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Sheriff Moore ran took off his wide brimmed hat and ran his fingers through hair thinning with every season. “I think we need to talk. Since this seems to be the new meeting spot for the county’s VIPs,” he chuckled as he waved at Tucker and the group he was holding court with. The old man just nodded and went back to his audience. “There’s circumstances going on I think are going to surprise you…”

  He gave a hometown politician smile and wave at another knot of farmers gathered around the fire pit. “And not in a good way.”

  *****

  Sheriff Andy and the Bradshaws walked in silence. The only sound made was the trio's boots crunching ripening grass, already succumbing to the approaching autumn. The sun was bright but didn’t seem to give as much heat as light. The breeze rippled through leaves already becoming crisp with the surrender of their trees to dormancy.

  Kara’s stomach churned with what Andy had told them. Two days ago she ran a simple little hunting lodge out in the middle of western Illinois. Nobody important really knew who she was, which was just fine with her. Now, 48 hours later, she felt like she was on the precipice of the End Times, in the middle of some grand conspiracy about to end life as she knew it.

  Her brother was just as confused, a mixture of incredulous and terrified. “You’re tellin’ me that Homeland Security had a file on the Caseys?” Sy asked.

  “And Darwin King, too. But they’ve got a file on everyone these days, you should know that,” Sheriff Moore replied.

  “Even us?” Kara questioned. “We’ve never done anything wrong.”

  Moore stopped walking. “Oh really? Do you still take gold or silver in payment? What about bartering for goods in town? Do you report that on your taxes?” Moore asked.

  Kara and Sy stood speechless. Finally Sy blurted, “You do it too!”

  Moore held up a hand in defense. “Guys, listen, I’m not trying to bust your chops. Heck yes, I do the same thing. Far as I’m concerned, Homeland’s got no business telling us what to do. I’m just telling you that we may think we’re the good guys, but not everyone does.”

  Neither Bradshaw said anything. Both were stewing, frightened at the thought of the government keeping tabs on them and furious for not knowing it. “Why didn’t you say anything to us?” Sy asked.

  Moore shrugged, instinctively putting his hand on the big .45 he wore at his hip. “Because I didn’t want people thinking it was me spying on them. As long as I was in office I planned to make sure anyone local was protected.”

  Kara caught the distinction. “But you did keep an eye on those who weren’t local.”

  Moore nodded sheepishly. “I wasn’t spying, I promise you that. But the big money that came and went from the lodges—not just your lodge, but the other ones in the county—yeah, I was a little curious about who the fat cats were.”

  Kara raised her eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. “And?”

  “And the Caseys and King were both flagged as Level Two threats by Homeland. That’s just short of ‘Terrorist with a Bomb Strapped to their Chest’ level. “He waited for a chuckle from the Bradshaws.

  He noted their cold stares and continued. “Seems they were part of a criminal syndicate that moved billions around the planet. Jumping money and goods from one secret account to another,” Moore told them. He was fidgeting now. He diverted his eyes away from the pair.

  “What else, Andy? Come on, something’s got you spooked. What do you know?”

  Andy shook his head, still not looking the Bradshaw siblings. “It’s what I did…who I told that bothers me now.”

  The silence of the morning was marred only by the breeze rustling and the singing of birds. Finally Moore huffed and answered. “I tipped Homeland off about your meeting that was going on this week. After you told me about all those bigwigs coming in from across the country to meet with the Caseys…I just felt like I had to tell Homeland. I was worried…I guess I justified it thinking I was protecting you all. They were going to find out either way…”

  He stopped stuttering. “Look, Homeland has been tracking all these guys for a long time. If I hadn’t told them about it—I told them you all tipped me off—they would have accused you of being in on it. Think about the crap that would have brought down on the lodge…hell, on the whole county!”

  Moore wasn’t finished. “We may be the edge of the universe to the regional capitals, but they sure would have made our lives miserable if they thought we were holding out on them, harboring fugitives. This lodge is the biggest tax revenue producer in the county outside of the farms.”

  “That won’t last if tourists think we’re spying on them,” Kara said. Sy didn’t look like he'd made that connection. Now his face got even redder as he glared at Moore.

  The sheriff didn’t back down. “Maybe, but I’m telling you this in case the hypothetical problems are far outweighed by the real ones.”

  “How can they possible know who’s gonna be where?” Sy asked. “You make it sound like they were gonna know even without you tellin' ’em.”

  “Grapevine,” Moore answered. “Worst thing’s ever happened, that stupid artificial intelligence they let loose on the web knows what a person is going to do before they can even think it. Satellites, listening posts, street cameras…all tied in together with those SmartWatchs people wear to keep their money on. You know those things can sense if a person isn’t wearing one? Detects some kind of bio-signature, matches it to the SmartWatch signal, and if a person doesn’t have a SmartWatch on it automatically makes Grapevine aware. Like GPS in a way. Starts triangulating to find out who it is and what they’re doing. Damnedest thing.”

  “Without Grapevine the whole web would have crashed because of the solar storms,” Kara said.

  Moore shrugged it off. “Maybe so. I’m not so sure it was really all that bad. Not much affects out here.” He sighed. “And it isn’t working right now anyway.”

  “Jacksonville, too?” Kara asked. Brownouts weren’t unusual anywhere outside the major cities, but usually things were back to normal quicker in Springfield than out in the boonies.

  Moore shook his head. “No, I mean the whole thing. Even in Springfield, everything is dark. I had a portal to Grapevine in my office and Jacksonville PD had several. The only people with outside contact right now seem to be the prisons, and they’re not letting anyone in or out.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “JPD says that there’s been some Army trucks coming in and out of their prison since the power went out. The Chief went over to find out what was going on, and the guards turned him away. Warden wouldn’t even see him.”

  “Isn’t that against the law? Figured the Chief could get in anywhere he wanted,” Sy said.

  Moore laughed at the question. “Those prisons are privately run. Some company out of Springfield has the contract to operate them. But supposedly it’s a shell corporation for one of the big law firms out of St. Louis. All mobbed up.”

  Sy took off his hat and threw it to the ground. “Then why ain’t Homeland lookin’ into them instead of us!” he shouted. “We’re just little fish and them people,” he pointed south towards the city a hundred miles away, “are stealin’ folks blind.”

  Moore just hung his head, unable to provide a good answer.

  Kara did it for him. “Because it’s all in who you know and who you pay off.”

  Moore nodded. Sy picked up his hat and stomped off towards the timber. They watched him disappear out of sight.

  “I really am sorry, Kara. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  “I know, Andy. I believe you. Doesn’t really matter anyway. I don’t think any of those VIPs are going to make it here this week. The airports are probably a mess if all the little connectors are out of power.”

  Moore stammered for words. “Kara, I don’t think you’re getting it yet. I mean, everywhere is out of
electricity. Even St. Louis. Chicago too, I'd guess. There are no airports working. Heck, from what the JPD Chief said, any plane in the air when the power went out just fell right out of the sky. It’s pitch-black except for the fires burning. I’m telling you, it’s bad.”

  Kara stood dumbfounded, unable to comprehend the idea of the cities dark at night. She’d been to St. Louis several times, years ago, and even Chicago once. The huge buildings were lit up like Christmas trees 24/7, the streets a constant bustle of people and self-driving taxis. What would those people do in the dark? How would they eat? It was getting colder, would they have heat?

  Moore broke her train of thought. “That look on your face is the same one I had when the Chief told me. Takes a while to wrap your mind around that. I still shudder at the thought of what hungry people are capable of…and I’m guessing there’s a lot of hungry people right now. Power’s been out there about three days and most people don’t keep but a day’s worth of ration bars in their homes.”

  “The ration bars…” she mumbled. Her face tensed, she seemed confused in her thoughts.

  “What is it?” Moore asked. “What about the ration bars?”

  “There’s millions of those things in the old Dot Foods warehouse on the edge of town.”

  “That’s true. I didn’t even think about it. Those supply all of St. Louis. If all that food is here…”

  “Then St. Louis is starving. The government warehouses in the city only keep a week’s worth of rations…I guarantee someone important has got their hands on them. I doubt if they’ll care much about sharing.”

  Kara thought for a moment. “Jeremiah said there’s been army trucks in and out of that plant…but I think he said the trucks stop at the prison and then head back towards Jacksonville.”

 

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