by N. C. Reed
Tom was fairly quiet on the ride back, and Roland didn’t intrude on the silence. A large part of Tom’s life was gone, and now he was using this last connection to those days to help others. Roland figured that was deserving of all the respect he could give the other man.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Roland had called a meeting of everyone still at the school. Some of the people they had rescued had departed with family members who were notified through a complex system of radios, visits, and word of mouth. Thankfully, Shirley Pippins had been one of those, although Roland was sure he detected some reluctance on the part of her niece to accept the habitually complaining Pippins. He knew for a fact that no one at the school was sorry to see her go. Tom, Melissa, Susan, another woman from the group named Marie Hilliard, and the two girls, who turned out to be thirteen-year-old fraternal twins name Mindy and Mandy Barnes, had remained. Melissa stayed for reasons of her own, the others because they lacked anywhere else to go.
He looked the group over. Vaughan, Mack, and Angie were on guard, with Angie manning the radio room. Everyone else was here.
“You all know the score,” he said simply. “We’ll be attacked sooner or later. There’s no real way around that. You new people are concerned about that, and you should be, but we are prepared for them.”
“You’ve seen all the defensive positions, building reinforcements, and weapons here. There are five trained soldiers in this group and several others who are more than able to take a hand in defending this place.”
“From now on, no one goes outside alone. I know that’s going to cramp our style,” Roland raised his hands defensively to mute the objections already forming, “but it’s for our own safety. Starting today, we’ll be running security around the clock. We’ve always had someone on watch, but now we’ll start keeping a full watch on.”
“What I need to know is, how many of you new folks have ever fired a weapon, and are willing to help defend this place?”
All three of the men from Nashville raised their hands, as did Fiona Richards, the older of the two women who had stayed. The Williams’ both added theirs their hands as well. Melissa raised her hand, of course, but Roland shook his head.
“Sorry, Melissa,” he said kindly. “You’re the only nurse we have and that’s where you’ll have to serve. We’ll have wounded to treat if it comes to a real battle.” That sobered everyone, but no one changed their minds.
Susan Powers’ hand was up, and Roland nodded to her. In the last two days the young woman had been working every waking moment to learn all she could about her new weaponry. She could field strip her AK and her pistol, and reassemble them in minutes. Not, perhaps, like a soldier could, but for someone who had shot for the first time just two days ago, it was nothing short of amazing.
“The rest of you need to learn to use at least a pistol for self-defense,” he said. “Even you two,” he told the twins, who nodded silently. “There’s plenty of work for those who can’t really aid in our defense. In a protracted battle, people will need ammo, food, and water brought to them. Wounded will need to be moved to the clinic area. Things like that. Everyone who can’t fight can still help, so don’t think you’re useless or dead weight. Everyone counts here.”
“Thanks to Tom, we’ve got some .22 rifles and pistols and plenty of ammo for training and practice. Trooper Vaughan will set up a training schedule later this morning and we’ll work in two’s and three’s until everyone is up to speed as much as possible.”
“We’ve made pretty much all the preparations we can, but I want everyone to be thinking as they walk through the school, what else can we do, okay? There’s no bad idea. If you think of it, speak up. It might be something really important that we’ve overlooked. Even if we don’t use the idea, don’t stop giving them.”
“Okay, I know everyone has work to do so go ahead. Remember that Vaughan will be assigning some of you to guard teams for the new watches. Don’t forget about them, please.”
People started filing out, until only Maria, James and Melissa remained.
“Roland, how bad will this be?” Maria asked.
“I expect it to be very bad,” Roland didn’t lie. “They’ll have blood in their eye and hate in their hearts. We’ve killed a bunch of them already, and they won’t forget that.”
“I will go and look around the school,” Maria nodded, and departed. James stood.
“Well, I can’t stand the watch, but I can man the radio room. And I’ll be good for the watch in a few days,” he promised.
“When you can,” was all Roland said. “One of the problems is we don’t know when they’ll hit. They could just wait and watch for a while, let us get tired of waiting, get careless, and then hit us when we think the problem’s over.”
“The one’s I’ve. . .met,” Melissa frowned, “aren’t that patient.”
“I’ve got a feeling their boss man is,” Roland shook his head.
“And he’s smart,” James put in. “He’ll come all right, and he’ll think he’s got an advantage of some kind when he does. He’ll hit us when he thinks it’s best for him.”
“Right,” Roland nodded firmly, pleased with James’ insight. “Our job is to not let that happen.”
“We’ll do it,” James nodded, determined. “Anyway, I need to go relieve Angie.”
“I’ll go with you,” Melissa said, then blushed slightly. “He’s teaching me to -.”
“I’m sure he is,” Roland remarked dryly. Melissa looked surprised for a moment, then laughed.
“Well, he is,” she told him, still laughing. “I can help with that, if nothing else.”
Roland couldn’t help but smile as the pair, dare he say couple? walked out of the room. He followed seconds later. He too had things to do.
-
“Ralph, are you sure this is going to work?” Roland asked for at least the tenth time.
“Yes, sir!” Ralph beamed at him. “I gur-uhn-tee it, or your money back!”
“That is not comforting,” Roland murmured. “How does this. . .thing, work again?”
Ralph had ‘salvaged’ the school’s switchboard to use as a control panel to trigger his mines. As Roland looked at the Frankenstein board, with switches and relays, and who knew what else Ralph, wired into it. He tried, and failed, to suppress a shudder.
“Well, I thought ‘bout how I was gonna be able to set ‘em off one atta time, ‘stead o’ all at once,” Ralph replied, still working. “See, they only need a teensy bit o’ spark to fire the magnesium, which’ll light up and set off the ANFO, and then go boom, and I figured a battery would gimme enough spark to do that, only we ain’t got all that many batteries, and I don’t want a bad battery to keep one from cookin’ off, but then I remembered them ol’ cars had batteries, and so I charged one o’ them up with a water wheel and a alternator off one o’ the cars. . .did you know there was a spring in that little lake outback? oh you did. Well, anyway...”
“Ralph,” Roland sighed, rubbing his temples.
“Yes, sir?” the boy looked up.
“Short version,” Roland ordered patiently.
“Battery powers the switch board, and the switchboard sparks the magnesium,” Ralph replied.
“I assume you have a way to test this?” Roland asked, not quite fearfully.
“Yep!” Ralph nodded firmly. “Take a look outside.”
“I don’t want to,” Roland tried not to whine. “What will I see?”
“Just lights,” Ralph waved the question aside. “Ain’t none o’ the mines hooked up yet.” Roland took faith in that, and looked out the window where he was horrified to see Terri, Deena, and the Barnes twins holding lamps at different places in the yard.
“Ralph, are you sure, I mean absolutely, one hundred percent, no possibility of a mistake sure, that none of those explosives are wired?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” Ralph nodded. “Nothing even wired inyet except the lamps. Promise. Cross my heart, even.” He made the appropria
te gesture.
“All right,” Roland nodded, reluctantly. “Go ahead.” Ralph hit a switch.
“That should be Deena,” he said. Roland looked, and sure enough...
“My lamp’s on Ralph!” Deena shouted. “You did it!”
“Terri,” Ralph threw the other switches, “Mindy, and… Mandy,” he finished. All the girls shouted in the proper order as Roland watched the bulbs light up.
“Okay girls, that’s fine!” Roland called. They gathered up their lamps and went inside.
“I don’t aim to wire up any o’ the bombs unless we get attacked,” Ralph told him. “Reckon that’s okay?”
“Oh, I think that’s a fine idea, Ralph. I really do.”
-
“Roland?”
Roland looked up at the sound of Maria’s voice. He was in his small room resting while he looked over a map.
“Can we talk for a minute?” she asked hesitantly.
“Sure,” Roland agreed at once. “You want to come in, or go somewhere else?” he asked, putting the map aside.
“Here is fine,” Maria nodded. Walking inside she sat down beside him.
“Are you. . .I mean, I need to know. . .what I’m trying to say is...” she trailed off, frustrated.
“Do I return your feelings?” Roland asked gently. Maria nodded, refusing to look at him.
“Well, that’s a good question,” Roland sighed. “The truth is I want to, but I’m a little afraid to.” Maria’s head shot up at that.
“Afraid to? Why?” she demanded.
“Well, that’s a little complicated,” he admitted. “See, I got some problems, Maria. I was getting help for ‘em before all this happened, but now. . .well, there’s no more help, and the medicine they were treating me with. . .it’s pretty much gone, I imagine.”
“Are you sick?” Maria asked worriedly. “If you are then perhaps Jennifer...”
“I’m not sick, exactly,” Roland cut her off gently. “I’m just a little, well, different from most people.”
“I do not need you to tell me that,” Maria said softly, a ghost of a smile appearing on her face.
“Well, that’s sweet, but not what I meant,” Roland chuckled. “Maria, I have a… let’s call it a chemical problem,” he tried.
“You’re an addict?” Maria looked shocked.
“No, I’m not an addict!” Roland snorted. This wasn’t working out. Might as well out with it.
“Look, Maria, there are certain chemicals in the brain that, when they work correctly, they moderate behavior. Only my brain, the. . .the chemicals don’t work right. They’re outta whack, and that makes me a bit. . .well, unpredictable was the nicest way anyone ever put it,” he finished lamely.
“So, you’re crazy,” Maria said, her voice flat.
“No, I’m not!” Roland replied defensively. “I’m just. . .well, hell, you’ve seen me. I’m a very violent man, Maria. Extremely violent. You’ve seen it yourself, like I said. The meds helped me regulate that, and the shrink helped me deal with things better, but I don’t have those anymore. And, so, I’m back to what I mostly was before,” he admitted.
“And what was that?” Maria asked calmly.
“I’m a killer,” he said flatly.
“I already knew that, as you said,” Maria replied, her head high.
“And that don’t. . .it don’t make you stop to. . .that don’t give you pause?”
“It does not,” her answer was firm and final.
“Well, it should,” Roland told her.
“Why? Because you might one day hurt me?”
“I’d never hurt you!” Roland was horrified at the thought of anyone, let alone himself, harming one lustrous hair on...
And that was when it hit him.
Yes, he really did return her feelings. Without thinking, he leaned into her and kissed her soundly on the mouth. Shocked, Maria struggled for an instant, then suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck and responded in kind. Eventually they were forced to come up for air.
“Jesse’s Gran told me I’d meet you,” Roland breathed. “Only. . .I already had, and didn’t know it.”
“You’re a very good kisser,” Maria smiled.
“You aren’t so bad either,” Roland smiled back.
“May I assume, now, that things are no longer. . .complicated?” Maria asked, looking into his eyes. Her own were deep pools of black; mesmerizing.
“Uh. . .no, I think we’ve uncomplicated things just, um, just fine,” he managed to stammer, unable to tear his eyes away from her’s.
“Excellent,” she replied. “Then you may kiss me some more.”
-
“Well?” BD asked, as Manny walked up.
“They’re in place,” Manny nodded. “Why don’t we just hit them now, Boss? Why wait and watch like this? There aren’t that many of...” He trailed off as BD raised his hand.
“I know that,” he said evenly. “But they pulled a real number on us, Manny. Twenty-nine men dead, six more crippled, and eight still recovering. These aren’t amateurs. Whoever this is, at least whoever is in charge, is a professional. That means he’s waiting for us to just rush in wild.”
“He used Claymore mines against us on our own road,” BD continued. “They had to have watched us for days before they acted, and we still haven’t found from where. They’re that good.”
“That means we have to be careful. We have to hit them hard, and final, but we have to do it smart. We can’t afford to let someone stand up to us like this. Word will get around. People talk, and then the next thing you know, we go in somewhere for our fees and we’re met with people with guns. That’s not good for business.”
“There’s no one in any of our towns that can threaten us, Boss,” Manny didn’t quite scoff. “We can wipe ‘em all out, we wanted to.”
“And then who does the work?” BD asked calmly. “Who provides us with food, fuel, whatever else we want? Do you want to farm, Manny? Raise your own food?”
“No,” Manny snorted. “No, Boss, I don’t. Okay, I get it,” he nodded. “I hadn’t thought all that through. Sorry.”
“No need,” BD assured him. “I understand how this looks. That’s why when we do this place, we do it right, and leave a smoking, smoldering ruin of it and the people inside.” He stood suddenly.
“As an abject lesson to anyone else who thinks it’s a good idea to stand up to our…business dealings. Understand, now?”
“Yes, Boss,” Manny nodded. “I do.”
“Good,” BD nodded. “You’re my right hand, Manny. I want, I need, for you to understand. I need to be able to count on you to make decisions in my absence. To do that, you have to know how I’m thinking.”
“And I’m thinking about the long haul, Manny,” BD smiled. “I’m thinking about what things will be like in a year. Five years. Twenty years.”
“Most of the guys don’t think past their next drink, or their next broad,” Manny admitted. “I try to think ahead, but I admit I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“That’s all right,” BD assured him. “But now it’s time you do. We’re building a future for ourselves, Manny. One where we’re kings.” His look turned grim.
“And once in a while, the King has to remind the peasants of their place.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Two days after Roland’s talk with the assembled school occupants, they received visitors. Very unexpected visitors in the form of Derrick Turnbow, his wife Rose, and another couple.
They arrived in Turnbow’s truck, pulling slowly into the front parking lot under the watchful eyes of James Golden. This was his first day back on his feet, so to speak, and he was standing the watch from a chair in the shade offered by the overhang at the school’s front door. Not only did that keep the sun off him and out of his eyes, it also made it harder to spot him.
As the pickup pulled in, he radioed Roland and stood, leaning against the wall but still in the shadows. He watched as Turnbow cautiously stepped
out of his truck and walked forward. Before he reached the door Roland was there.
“Mister Turnbow,” he said evenly. “What brings you our way today?”
“Roland,” Turnbow nodded. “Reckon I came to eat some crow, young man,” the old preacher replied honestly. “I thought we could visit a while, talk, and try to mend our fences so to speak. If that’s agreeable, of course.”
Roland looked at the man for a moment. Jenkins had told him of Turnbow’s apparent change of heart concerning Roland and his charges, but Roland was the kind of man who liked to make up his own mind about things. The fact that Turnbow had shown up offering to make peace said a lot. Maybe.
“Sounds good to me,” he replied. “Ya’ll come on inside,” he waved. He nodded to James and opened the door, waiting for the group to enter. He followed, and led them to the office.
“Looks like you’ve made a lot o’ changes,” Turnbow offered, looking around.
“Trying to get more comfortable,” Roland nodded, non-committal.
“Or get ready for an attack?” the other man asked from where he and his wife, Roland presumed, were following.
“If needed,” Roland settled for saying.
“This is John Haggard and his wife Flora. And this is my wife, Rose,” Turnbow offered introductions.
“Sir, Ladies,” Roland nodded. He allowed them to precede him into the office. “Take a seat, and be comfortable,” he offered. “Can I offer you some water?”
“No, no, we’re fine, thanks,” Turnbow shook his head. “Might as well get right to it, I suppose, and offer you an apology, Roland,” Turnbow continued. “A sincere one I hope you can accept. I.. in my defense, I really did think you might be gypsies, or something similar. That doesn’t make how I treated you right, but I hope it explains my actions.”
“Wilson mentioned that to me,” Roland nodded. “I didn’t even know such things still existed, let alone here in America, but he set me straight about that, too. I can understand your concerns. And yes, your apology is accepted.”
There was no reason not to accept it, and Wilson had told him more than once that while Turnbow was cantankerous, and often argumentative, he was, at the base of it, a good man and a good neighbor.