by N. C. Reed
It was a sign of how things had been that Roland hadn’t even thought of that. And why not call him? Maria was right, and so was Jesse. This was a law enforcement problem.
“Okay, I’ll try and raise him on the radio. Tell him we’re making a special dinner for him that our friends up the road wouldn’t want him to miss. Maybe that’ll get him out here without everyone knowing what’s going on.”
“Sounds like a plan, my man!” Jesse clapped his hands together. Maria merely nodded.
“Call him,” was all she said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Wilson listened to the story without interruption, nodding on occasion as Roland related the entire event in detail, with supplements from Maria. When Roland stopped, Wilson scratched his head for a minute, grimacing.
“What is it you want me to do?” he asked finally.
“Don’t care what you do,” Roland shrugged. “I want her outta here, and she says the Right Reverend Turnbow has got her sister held hostage. You’re the law. Your problem, I guess. I got no authority, real or imagined, to get involved in all this.”
“Let me talk to her,” Wilson said. “I don’t recognize that name, to be honest. Did you ask her if she was from around here?”
“Didn’t think of it after I found her messing with my rifle,” Roland admitted.
“Can’t blame you for that,” Wilson nodded. He followed Roland down the hall to where James was still standing guard.
“Open up, James,” Roland ordered. The teen did so, taking a step back from the door. Wilson nodded in approval at his actions. He looked in the room and saw a young woman he didn’t recognize sitting in a desk chair, half asleep.
“I’m Sheriff Wilson,” he introduced himself. “I understand you’re a bit sideways with Roland and his people. Care to enlighten me as to why?”
“I’m Andrea Turner,” she said dully, apparently exhausted. “My sister Megan and I were traveling through, trying to reach our uncle’s place in Franklin. He had told us to come there if things got rough. I figured this qualified.”
“Imagine so,” Wilson nodded.
“We were walking through a little redneck commune when the Sheriff there arrested us for ‘trespassing’. Seems they’ve decided they own the road coming through their hillbilly heaven, and no one passes unless they pay.” She looked down.
“We didn’t have anything to pay with except. . .well, anyway. Their preacher, he’s the one really in charge, he decides to make me an offer I can’t refuse. I can take two kids he’s got from somewhere, and come here and try to make trouble for Roland, or he can just sell us to the highest bidder. He kept Megan as ‘insurance’, as he called it.”
“And here I am,” she shrugged. “I’m not an actress, and I’m not real big on crime, either, but he’s got my sister, and she’s all the family I have left, save for our uncle. And we don’t really know if he’s alive anymore.”
“And you say Turnbow is the one who put you up to this?” Wilson asked.
“He didn’t ‘put me up to it’, Sheriff, he threatened to sell my sister into a life of sexual slavery. That was if he didn’t decide to keep her for himself.” She looked at Wilson.
“Are you going to help me? Or just take me to jail?”
“Well, that depends,” Wilson replied calmly. “Why don’t you tell me everything you can remember about this ‘Hillbilly Heaven’, and the people you met while you were there. Don’t leave out anything, no matter how simple it may seem.”
Andrea sat there for a moment, looking at him.
Then she started talking.
-
“Everything she said is accurate,” Wilson informed Roland. They were once more sitting in the office of the school, Andrea Turner securely behind her locked door. “Right down to the color of the buildings. I’ve just about got to believe she’s telling the truth.”
“Turnbow the kind to do something like this?” Roland was skeptical. “And does he have that kind of influence over the people around him?”
“Well, I once would have said no, to the first,” Wilson scratched his jaw. “Thing is, it’s a big ole ‘yes’ to the second. And Turnbow and his bunch do follow an odd kinda religion. Don’t cotton to outsiders much. And they got some peculiar ideas. About women folk, and such. That bunch has been squirrely since things got bad.” He rubbed a hand over his face.
“I’ve got to think on this a bit,” he admitted finally. “I flat don’t have the manpower to challenge him out in the open. Every breathing body in that whole community’l back Turnbow to the hilt, bar none. I’ve only got three deputies left, and they ain’t the kind to stack up against a crowd like that. This is gonna take some careful handlin’.”
“What about these children?” Roland asked. “Any idea where he got them?”
“Never seen ‘em before,” Wilson shook his head. “And that bothers me more than the Turner girl. I can’t see someone giving up their kids peaceable like.”
“You’d be surprised,” Roland sighed. “Several of these kids here? Their folks just drifted away from the pack and left.”
“Well, reckon you can take care of ‘em,” Wilson patted Roland’s knee.
“We got more’n we can say grace over now!” Roland protested. “And one of them is an infant. We are not set up to care for an infant.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Wilson smiled. “Meantime, I gotta get back.”
“What about her?” Roland asked. “Ain’t you takin’ her with you?”
“Nah,” Wilson shook his head. “‘Til I can figure what’s up, need you to keep her under lock and key. Outta sight. Only way to keep her sister safe.”
“You’re enjoying this a bit too much, Tom,” Roland groused.
“I really ain’t,” Wilson shrugged. “I just don’t have a better idea. I’ve got to see about gettin’ a posse together, I reckon. And I’ll have to be careful doing it. Until I know what I can call on, just lay low and let things flow, so to speak.”
“Thanks for nothin’,” Roland muttered as Wilson left. He turned around to see Jesse and Maria standing behind him.
“You heard?” he asked. Both nodded.
“This sucks,” Jesse almost spat. “This ain’t our job.”
“Tell me about it,” Roland growled. “Well, we’re stuck with it for now. Guess we better lay down some ground rules.”
“Let her stew for tonight,” Jesse replied.
“I agree,” Maria nodded. “Let her contemplate things over night. I suggest moving her to a room with no windows, however. And she will need access to the restroom.”
“Put her in the janitor’s closet, and give’er a bucket,” Jesse grumped.
“We’ll see what we can come up with,” Roland sighed.
-
“You’re kidding, right?”
Andrea Turner stood with arms crossed, one hip shot out, foot tapping the floor as she surveyed her ‘room’.
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Roland growled. “This may not be homey, but considering that I was thinking about just putting a bullet in your head and dumping you in a hole out back, I’m sure you’ll agree it’s cozy.”
They had, in fact, put her in the janitor’s closet. It was also the janitor’s work room, locker room, and break room, so it had a bathroom, and a sink. Two blankets had been tossed inside as well. A plate from supper was sitting on the table, along with three bottles of water.
“This is ridiculous,” she fumed. “All I was trying to do was save my sister!”
“And you went about it the wrong way,” Roland shrugged. “I’m sorry about your sister, I really am. But the fact is I can’t trust you. You came here to do malice, whatever the reason. You’re a threat to these kids, far as I’m concerned, and I’ve worked too hard and killed too many people trying to keep them safe. I won’t hesitate to kill you, either, the minute I think you’re a danger. Understand?”
“I wouldn’t hurt a child!” she retorted. “For God�
�s sake, what do you take me for?”
“Someone who admitted she came here to cause trouble for me and my kids,” Roland said firmly. “And that’s really all I care about when you get right down to it. So do yourself, and your sister, a favor, and don’t give me any more reason to think my best move is to bury you quiet and deep and forget I ever saw you. Get me?”
“I get you,” Andrea snorted. “This is grossly unfair. No matter where we turn, we’re victims.”
“You weren’t a victim here,” Roland reminded her. “We were doing our best to make you feel at home, and help you care for the children you lied about being yours. From my perspective, that makes us the victims. You think about that while you enjoy your stay here at Club Mop and Broom.”
He slammed the door before she could say anything else, fuming at her callousness. It was all about her and her sister. The woman truly didn’t see where she’d done anything wrong in trying to set them up for a fall for the Right Reverend Turnbow. If she was telling the truth about that, anyway. Roland wasn't sure she was.
He secured the door, locking the dead bolt, and then padlocking it as well. She kicked the door a few times in anger, but had stopped by the time he was a few feet down the hall.
Roland decided that if she tried to raise any hell, and keep the children awake, she’d spend the night tied to the shelving, and uncomfortable. He was clear out of patience where she was concerned.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I am at my wits end. Why is it that so many people harbor ill will towards us? All I’m trying to do is keep these kids safe, and taken care of. And I’m getting very tired of people getting in the way of that.
Very. Tired.
-
The next day brought a surprise for Roland. For once it was a happy surprise.
“Roland, there’s a convoy approaching,” James called from his self-appointed exile on the rooftop. “It might be Jenkins from the look of it.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be bad news at all, now would it?” Roland answered. “I’ll go meet ‘em. Jesse you up?”
“Yeah, I’m on my way.”
Roland stepped outside to see an MRAP coming down the road, leading two trucks and a bus, with a Humvee following.
“Well, that looks familiar,” Roland thought, smiling. He waited patiently as the MRAP pulled into the drive out front, followed by the others. Roland could see several people on the bus, but couldn’t make out faces. As he looked on, sure enough, Jenkins climbed down from the MRAP.
Sergeant Jenkins.
“Well, somebody gotta ‘attaboy’, didn’t they?” Roland grinned, shaking hands with the newly promoted Jenkins.
“Things have changed, of late,” Jenkins nodded. “How are you Roland?”
“We’re hanging in there,” Roland sighed. “How’s things up your way?”
“Better, actually,” Jenkins grinned. “You gave the Captain a lot of ideas, Roland. Once we got back, he sort of went on the offensive. There were a few cops still trying to do what they could, and we formed up with them and started running the gangs to heel. Lost a few men and women along the way, but we made a lot of progress.”
“Man, that is good news,” Roland agreed. “What brings you down this way?”
“Well, there’s a bit of a story to that,” Jenkins admitted. “This place will hold more than just you guys. Are you willing to take in more people?”
“If they’re willing to work, and if we can feed ‘em, sure. But the penalty for trouble making is pretty severe.”
“Shouldn’t be any, probably,” Jenkins shook his head. “Most of these folks have been with us for a while. Plus, Vaughan and Mackey will be staying on to supplement your security. And we brought two trucks loaded with supplies. Turns out there are several warehouses in the city that were storing dry goods. Canned stuff, flour, meal, oats, that kind of thing. We’re still doing inventory, but it’s enough to keep us going for a while. And, like you, we’re raising food now ourselves.”
“But we’re still short of water,” he admitted, quieter. “There just aren’t many wells in a place like Nashville. Our filtration unit can only deal with so much a day. We’ve been on the radio looking for another one, but so far no luck. I know there were a few more in-state, but we haven’t made contact with anyone that’s got one so far.”
“Any luck getting the city’s plants up and running?” Roland asked.
“No power,” Jenkins shook his head. “And that’s going to be the key. There’s just not enough power to run something like that. We’re hoping to be able to actually build something ourselves out of what we found at the city’s water plants, but right now we’re at a loss as to how to power it effectively.”
“Might try a water wheel, just on a big scale,” Roland offered. “I’ve seen villages in Africa and South America using them to power their villages.”
“I’ll pass that along,” Jenkins nodded, scribbling a note in his note book. “You still having issues with Turnbow?”
“And then some,” Roland nodded, explaining the events up to that point.
“Dammit,” Jenkins growled. “We’d gotten some rumors about trafficking like that, but I was hoping it wasn’t true. We’ve seen it in the city, though,” he added grimly.
“May not be,” Roland shrugged. “Couldn’t trust that woman far as I could throw her.”
“Well, I’ll contact the Sheriff while we’re here,” Jenkins offered. “We can provide the extra manpower if he wants to clean that nest out. Until then, you want to talk things over with the others? About the new folks? And then meet ‘em?”
“Yeah, that’s be a good idea,” Roland nodded. “I’ve got to stop making all these unilateral decisions.”
-
“How many people?” Maria asked, looking skeptical. “Our food reserves are already stretched thin.”
“Brought two trucks worth of supplies with us, ma’am,” Jenkins promised. “And there’s no dead weight on that bus. Fourteen in all, all good folks. One’s a paramedic, too. She’s not a doctor, but she’s very smart. That’s got to help.”
“It does,” Roland said quietly. Everyone was thinking about Cassandra.
“What about the others?” Maria asked.
“Well, there’s two teens, boy of fifteen and girl of eighteen. Brother and sister. No idea on their parents. Mackey’s girlfriend, she’s the para. In fact she’s service, a combat medic. After them, there’s two married couples. The Roberts’ and the Williams’. Nice folks, middle-aged-ish. Three younger men, in their twenties, and four younger women, also in their twenties except for one, who I think is just turned thirty.”
“None of them have been any trouble at all, and all of them have worked hard to help keep things going at the Armory. And, they all agreed to help with the children. Captain insisted that anyone who came here would agree to that.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” Roland actually smiled. “Maria, we have room for them, right?”
“Si,” Maria nodded, lost in thought. “I mean, yes, we do. We can give the older couple’s two smaller classrooms, to allow them some privacy. We can use two of the larger rooms as dormitory style rooms for the singles. Similar to what we do for ourselves, in fact. We can easily manage that many.”
“Mackey and Angie are gonna want one of the small rooms, I imagine,” Jenkins nodded. “They’re all but married. Have been for over three years. One reason he’s here. Angie wanted to be here to help with the children, and no way was Mackey gonna be separated from her. And I’m not sure, but I think Vaughan’s got something going with the older single woman. You didn’t hear that from me,” he winked, and the others laughed.
“Seriously, though, you think you can handle that?” he asked. “I don’t want you guys to feel obligated. Cap’n said to make sure you knew that, too. He thought these folks would be a help to you, and it gets some of the people out of town and off the water ration.”
“Water actually hasn’t been a problem so far,” Ro
land nodded, knocking on the wooden table he leaned against. “You guys want a hot shower while you’re here, you can get it. We just have to turn on the hot water heater a little bit before you go.”
“A cold shower seems like a treat,” Jenkins shrugged. “I’m sure everyone will take you up on that. We were going to overnight here, if that’s okay.”
“How many of you are there?” Roland asked. “Going back, I mean?”
“Two fire teams,” Jenkins replied. “If you can get hold of that Sheriff, we can offer to back him up if he wants to go after that girl. I think we can intimidate any opposition to his performing his duties. Captain broke out the heavy hardware when the clean-up started. I’ve got a Deuce on the Hummer, and an Mk19 on the MRAP.”
“That’s serious firepower,” Jesse whistled softly.
“It’s been that kind of month,” Jenkins shrugged again. “I mean it when I say that just clearing the area around the Armory was hard, tough work. As bad as anything we saw in Iraq.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Roland nodded. “I’ll see if I can get Wilson on the horn. He probably won’t want to come out here again so soon. He hasn’t got a lot of fuel left.”
“Brought you one hundred fifty gallons,” Jenkins informed him. “Three drums. You can offer him a fill up.”
“That just might do the trick,” Roland nodded.
-
“What now?” Wilson demanded as he climbed out of his car. “I told you I’d get back to you. . .hey, who are. . .what is all this?”
“Sheriff, I’m Sergeant Gerald Jenkins, 278th Cav. I understand you need some reliable firepower to end a situation. I’ve got eight men and two armored vehicles I’m willing to put at your disposal.”
“You do? You are?” Wilson looked a little confused. “What about. . .I mean, I thought you guys needed the governor’s permission...”
“We haven’t had contact with the Governor for several weeks,” Jenkins shrugged. “Last I had any word, he was sick, but recovering. His people are doing what they can with what they have, but. . .well, you know how it is, I’m sure. There are a lot of fires to put out, and not enough firemen. Our last orders were to assist locals in maintaining order.”