by N. C. Reed
“I do know how that is,” Wilson nodded. “I actually had a pretty sneaky idea about this, but I was still looking for manpower. If you’re willing to help then I think my idea might work.”
“Why don’t you tell us about it while one of my men fills your car up with fuel?” Jenkins offered. Wilson brightened at that.
“Really? That’s great!”
“C’mon inside and let’s hear this sneaky plot of yours, Tom.”
-
“That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard,” Roland shook his head in awe.
“You don’t think it’ll work?” Wilson asked.
“Oh, it’ll work,” Jenkins nodded, grinning. “Roland was just expressing his admiration for how your mind works.”
“Something like that,” Roland nodded his agreement, chuckling. “Jenkins and his boys will have to head back tomorrow,” he turned the discussion back to the plan.
“We can head up there right now, far as we’re concerned,” Gerald offered. Wilson rubbed his chin, clearly weighing his options.
“You know what, why don’t we do just that,” he said suddenly. “Don’t make no mention of you boys leaving tomorrow, by the way,” he added. “If they think you’ll be around somewhere, or even here, most of the time, that’s a tiny club I can use to defuse something later, if something was to need a good. . .well, defusing.”
“No problem,” Gerald laughed. “And I can’t promise how often, but we will be around on occasion. We’re trying to work with any and all local law enforcement to knock down the raiders and gangs that have popped up since things fell apart.”
“Sounds good,” Wilson nodded. “We definitely need the help. That stuff is getting larger than small departments like mine can handle.”
“Well, let’s clear this first hurdle, and then we’ll see what we can see,” Gerald offered. “Parker!” A young corporal snapped to.
“Yes Sergeant!”
“Gather the crews. We’re about to assist the Sheriff here with some anti-slavery work.” Parker’s eyes grew very hard, suddenly.
“Right away, Sergeant,” he nodded, and scurried off.
“We found. . .well, things were pretty bad in places,” Gerald explained to the questioning looks. “Parker and the others have all seen some rough shit. Stuff they never expected to see here at home. I think it reminds them a little too much of the kind of things we saw overseas.”
“They won’t, uh, you know...” Wilson asked.
“No,” Gerald shook his head. “They’re solid men. All of them. But for their sake, I hope your little community up there minds their manners. I won’t lie to you, if they look like a threat, they’ll probably get dead. Quick.”
“I can live with that,” Wilson shook his head. “You ride with me. Here’s how I want to work this when we get there.”
Thirty minutes later, a tiny convoy of three vehicles started off down the road. Roland watched them go, and hoped everything worked out.
And reminded himself that if it did or didn’t, Andrea was leaving with Jenkins tomorrow. One way or another.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Wilson had led the way so that everyone would realize he was the one in charge. They parked in the middle of the road, dead center of town. Wilson got out, taking his time, squaring his hat on his head, giving him a chance to look around.
People were out working, either on gardens or other projects. A few of the elderly people were gathered on benches around town, each surrounded by a few children or even younger adults, teaching old skills to willing hands.
Wilson frowned slightly. This wasn’t the scene of a town under a theocratic dictator.
As if summoned by the thought, Turnbow showed up just then.
“Mornin’ Sheriff,” he smiled. “I see you’ve got some friends along,” he nodded to where three men from each vehicle had dismounted. Jenkins walked up alongside Wilson, and Turnbow lost his smile.
“Hello again, Mister Turnbow,” Jenkins said calmly.
“You,” Turnbow almost spat. “What in tarnation do you want now?” he demanded.
“He’s looking for a murder suspect,” Wilson said smoothly. “Woman named Megan Turner. Had a report she was hid out in this area. Woman’s dangerous, Reverend. I mean the real deal dangerous. You had any new folks in town of recent?”
“Might be out there with that bunch o’ gyps,” Turnbow growled.
“They aren’t gypsies, Reverend,” Wilson sighed. “It’s orphans for the most part. Two former soldiers trying to protect a few older teens that are helping them, and a lot of little ones. Kids that’s already been preyed upon more than once. They aren’t bothering anyone. Besides, we already searched the school, and she’s not there,” he added. “That was the first place we looked.” Wasn’t really a lie, Wilson decided, since he had looked around some.
Turnbow looked surprised at that.
“Why’d you look there?”
“Cause I don’t know them,” Wilson explained. “Strangers in town, first place I look is places where I don’t know everyone. She ain’t there. Only other settlement anywhere around is here. Now, have you seen anyone like that?” Wilson described the girl again. Turnbow looked thoughtful, then shook his head.
“I can’t say I have, but I don’t see everything,” he admitted. “Let’s ask around. If she’s been through, someone probably saw her.”
Jenkins and Wilson exchanged a look. Something wasn’t adding up. They dutifully followed Turnbow around, questioning everyone. Wilson noted that no one looked to Turnbow before answering. They simply replied that no, they hadn’t seen any strangers in several days. Weeks, more like, most agreed.
“Do you get the feeling we’re being hosed, here?” Jenkins asked softly, when he and Wilson were alone.
“One way or another,” Wilson nodded. “I think that woman’s lying. Again. I’m going to lay my cards on the table and see what happens.” He walked toward Turnbow, catching the older man off to himself.
“Reverend, I’m going to level with you,” he said gently. “We were told by a woman claiming to be this Megan person’s sister that she was being held against her will, by you specifically.”
“What?” Turnbow spluttered. “Again. . .what kind of blather is that?”
“Just like I said,” Wilson shrugged. “Let me search your home,” Wilson urged. “If you will, then I can go back and arrest this woman for lying. More than that, I can see why she’s doing it. Something isn’t right, here, Mister Turnbow. I’m starting to think this woman is setting us up for something.”
“Search my house?” Turnbow turned red in the face. “Why would I let you search my home?”
“To let me prove this woman’s a liar,” Wilson said flatly. “I need to find out what game she’s playing. It’s possible that she’s trying to get us fighting among ourselves, softening us up for a raid of some kind.”
“There’s a lot of that going on, sir,” Jenkins offered. “We’ve been fighting them for several weeks now. We’ve had some success up in Nashville, and now we’re trying to move out into the rural areas. We suspect that many of those we didn’t catch actually in the city are basing in areas just like this one. If she’s part of one, and we can get her talking, we may can wrap up the whole bunch.”
Turnbow looked at both men for a long time, clearly warring with his own rage. Finally, he nodded.
“Fine, search ahead. I’ve certainly got nothing to hide. But I don’t appreciate being treated like a criminal.”
“I’m not treating you like a criminal, Reverend,” Wilson corrected him. “If I were, I’d just search, permission or no. But I won’t force someone to let me search otherwise. That’s why I asked your permission. And if you want to take it back, then we won’t search.” Turnbow studied Wilson for a moment, before nodding again.
“Well, that’s fair enough,” he sighed. “And we can’t afford any kind of trouble. Feel free.”
“Would you go with us, sir?” Jenkins asked pol
itely. “I’d feel better if you could watch us while we look.” Surprised again, Turnbow nodded.
“I may have misjudged you, young man,” he told Jenkins, almost grudgingly.
“Well, you wouldn’t be the first, sir,” Jenkins smiled widely.
-
Roland paced along the front of the building again, agitated. He wanted this done, and over with. Something was nagging at him about all this, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He couldn’t even satisfy himself about why he was feeling on edge, and that bothered him even more. Usually he could figure things out, but not today.
What was wrong?
“Roland, that woman wants to speak to you,” Maria’s voice cut into his thinking. He turned to see the petite woman standing at the front door, agitation on her face.
“What does she want?” he asked.
“She will not tell me,” Maria shrugged. “She just insists that you come talk to her. That it’s in your best interest.”
“Is that right?” Roland mused. “Well, I’ll get around to her, sometime. Maybe. Meanwhile, how’s everything else going?”
“We’re doing fine, so far,” Maria smiled. “All of the new people are settled in and getting acquainted. I admit, I was not sure this would work, but they all seem willing to work and everyone is willing to help with the children. We will be stronger, now, I think, and that can only be good. And with so many more adults, what happened to Cas. . .what happened before is unlikely to happen again.”
“Good,” Roland nodded. “I wasn’t sure of it myself, but I’m glad to hear things are working out. And it’s nice to have some more adults around. We might even get some rest, once in a while,” he smiled.
“Si, that would be good,” she smiled again. Roland noticed again how pretty she was when she smiled.
“Are any of them working in the kitchen?” he asked.
“Yes. We have organized three shifts. One each led by myself, Terri, and Deena. One team will cook each day, allowing the others time to do other things.”
“That’s a good idea,” Roland nodded. “Yours?”
“Si, I mean yes,” Maria nodded. “All of us are working today, to give everyone a chance to see how we do things.”
“Good deal,” Roland nodded again. “That reminds me,” he added, lifting his radio.
“Vaughan, are you up?”
“Right here, boss,” the soldier replied at once.
“Come down to the front entrance please,” he asked. “I need to speak to you.”
“On the way.” Roland looked at Maria.
“I think it’s time everyone learned to shoot, Maria. I don’t like what’s happening.”
“I think that is an excellent idea.”
-
“Can you organize and teach a class on firearms safety and marksmanship?” Roland asked the younger man.
“Sure,” Vaughan nodded eagerly. “We were already doing that back at the Armory, so most everyone in the group knows the basics. And everyone is already armed and equipped,” he added.
“That’s great,” Roland was pleased. “Start today, then. Break everyone into groups and get started with one of them today. If I have time I’ll help too.”
“You worried?” Vaughan asked.
“I’m always worried,” Roland admitted. “But right now, I’m really worried. Something ain’t right, but I can’t put my finger on it. It’s right there in my mind, but always just out of reach. I think we’re being played by that woman, only I can’t figure out how. Not yet.”
“Well, if she’s lying, then at the least she might get something stirred up between us and that bunch down yonder,” Vaughan nodded. “Anyway, I’ll get started.”
“I want you to let James assist you,” Roland added. “It’s time he took on a more advanced role. I want him learning responsibility. He’ll need it one day.”
“He’s a good kid,” Vaughan nodded. “I’ll get him and get started.”
“Thanks Vaughan,” Roland nodded. “I really appreciate it. I’m glad to have you and Mack joining us, too. I couldn’t ask for better help.”
“Hey, we volunteered,” Vaughan grinned. “We wanted to be here.” With that, he wheeled sharply and went to collect his first class. Roland watched him go, pleased with Vaughan’s words. He appreciated them almost as much as he appreciated them being here.
-
“Well, she ain’t here,” Wilson sighed. “And that leaves us with another problem.”
“It sure does,” Jenkins nodded. “Reverend, have you had any kind of trouble lately? Or any suspicious behavior? Maybe someone lurking around, watching you folks?”
“Well,” Turnbow rubbed the back of his neck, “now that you mention it, we’ve heard a lot of motorcycles in the distance, last few days,” he admitted. “Jonah, he caught sight of a couple of them, and the riders were decked out in leather, kinda like motorcycle gangs wear. We hadn’t thought too much on it, but have tried to keep watch because of it.”
“That’s what I figured,” Jenkins sighed. “Look Mister Turnbow. I don’t know that I’m right, but I got a feeling that this Turner woman was trying to cause problems between you and Roland. Have any of your people gone missing of late? Or would any of them give information about you to potential raiders?”
“Well, we’ve had folks leave, of course,” Turnbow shrugged. “Some going to try and find family, or find a better place to live. By better, I mean a place where you don’t have to work sun-up to sun-down. This kind of life ain’t for everyone.”
“Do you know if any of them might have joined a group of raiders?” Wilson asked.
“Well, maybe,” Turnbow shrugged. “You remember Marty Roy, don’t you? He left a couple weeks ago, in a huff. He and Mary got into it, and she pretty well told him she didn’t ever want to see him again. He was pretty mad.”
“And he’s about as big a waste o’ skin as we got around here,” Wilson sighed again.
“I hate to agree, but he is pretty much a lost cause,” Turnbow echoed his sigh. “I tried to work with him, Tom, but he was just too angry and bitter about. . .well, pretty much everything. He always did feel like he was owed something.”
“A free ride,” Wilson nodded. “Derrick, this might be a bad thing. If someone’s deliberately trying to set your group and Roland’s against each other, then there’s got to be a reason for it.”
“Well, it’s common knowledge that we don’t get along,” Turnbow mused. “And that’s my fault more’n his,” the man admitted. “I didn’t trust the look of that outfit. I really thought they were gonna be like gypsies. Using them kids to prey on us and anyone else around. I see now that I was wrong, but what’s said can’t be unsaid. In the time they been here, they ain’t really caused no problems I’m aware of, and Stang’s been true to his word. They ain’t been about, and they ain’t asked for anything.”
“I told you, his primary concern is for those children,” Jenkins nodded. “Every one of them is an orphan. Some of their parents were killed, others just plain walked off and deserted them. Roland’s trying to look after them, and make sure they can at least grow up safe and be prepared to live in what’s left of the world. I promise you Mister Turnbow, if you’re friendly to him, Roland’l be friendly to you.”
“I’ve about figured that out,” Turnbow admitted. “Tom here is hard to fool, and he said the same thing. I was just mad, and worried about what they might do. None of us are really young, for the most part. And we’re not the violent sort. I’ve tried to keep things calm here, and pray and hope for the best. But I’m not foolish enough to think there aren’t bad people about that would love to take advantage of a bunch of old farmers and planters.”
“There’s things you can do to help make yourselves more secure,” Jenkins replied, looking carefully around at the small community. “My men and I will be glad to help you get started. We can stay a day, and work with you.”
“I… I’d be much obliged by that, young man,” Turnbow
looked surprised. “Much obliged indeed.”
“No problem,” Jenkins smiled. “I’ll get my guys, and we’ll get started.”
“I’ll head back to the school and deal with the Turner woman,” Wilson said grimly.
“How?” Jenkins asked.
“No idea.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” Roland sighed. “This bitch is weaving lies inside of lies. What a piece o’ work.”
“Yeah,” Wilson sighed. “I know. Thing is, we don’t know where she’s coming from, who she’s working for, nothing.” He removed his Stetson and scratched his head.
“I gotta admit, Roland, I’m not sure just what to do next.”
“I got an idea, but I don’t know how far it’ll run,” Roland mused after a moment of thought. “We can try to run a game on her. See what she does, or how she acts. Beats nothing, I guess.”
“What kinda game?” Wilson asked, as Roland got up from his chair.
“I’m gonna tell her that we found her sister,” he grinned maliciously.
-
Andrea Turner looked up from where she sat as Roland and Wilson walked into her ‘room’.
“What is it now?” she sighed, getting to her feet.
“Just wanted to tell you we found your sister,” Tom smiled his best ‘vote for me’ smile. “Looks like she’s just fine. Doc’s checking her out now.”
“Wh… tha. . .that’s great!” she stammered. “Did she say anything? Was she injured?”
“Like I said, she seems fine. Medic is checking her out, just to be safe, but she’s walking and talking. She asked about you, worried you’d been hurt. We told her she’d see you soon, and you’re fine,” Roland answered. “She’ll stay here with you until the Guard leaves. They’ll carry you to Nashville to see your uncle.”