Frank shrugged. “I’ll know it if I see it. Don’t test me. I’ve reached my limit. Got it?” He stared at Jodi, then at Shane, then he turned and stared at James, who stood stiffly in the midst of the new city guards. “That’s it, folks. Friday. Now, I don’t want any more trouble. Everyone, please leave here quietly and peacefully. We’ll see how things unfold this week. Okay?” He swept both of his hands at the crowd. “That’s it. Good evening.”
As soon as they were dismissed, Shane was up and leaving, beckoning his family to follow. Jodi moved as fast as she could, heading up the aisle, wanting desperately to get home to her children. The crowd started to rise around them, stepping into the aisle, and it felt like a wave slowly crashing down around them.
Fortunately, the crowd let them pass through the door into the high school’s expansive lobby, chasing them only with glares. When they got outside, Jodi felt like they’d literally dodged a bullet—or possibly many bullets—and she breathed a sigh of relief. She was worried about James. As far as she knew, the man was still being held by guards onstage. Beth cast a few furtive glances over her shoulder, and Jodi was grateful that her mother hadn’t insisted on trying to rescue her new boyfriend from the crowd.
None of them said a word. They were all too angry, though Jodi noted that her husband was muttering something under his breath. She held his hand, wanting to reassure him, though she had nothing reassuring to say. They’d made it almost a quarter of a mile before Mike looked back over his shoulder and gasped.
“We’re being followed, friends,” he said softly.
Jodi glanced over her shoulder and saw them—Gabe and his two goons—following about a block back. James was shuffling along between them with his head down, looking as glum as she’d ever seen him.
“Just keep walking,” Shane said. “No one look at them or talk to them. We need to get home. That’s all.”
Jodi turned back around and resisted the urge to look again. Though the walk to the high school had become familiar, it felt about ten times as long this evening. She forgot all about the pharmacy, and Shane didn’t remind her.
When the fence finally came in sight, she felt immediate relief. They jingled the windchime until Corbin came to let them in. Just as Jodi passed through the open gate, she heard someone coming up behind them, and she looked back to see the former sheriff trudging toward the house. Gabe and the guards had stopped at the end of the road, spread across the lanes, and adopted what looked to her like a militaristic pose: legs apart, knees locked, hands clasped behind their backs.
As soon as James passed through the gate, Beth hugged him, and Shane shut the gate, setting the latch.
“What happened?” Corbin asked, looking at Shane’s face. “Something went wrong. I can tell. What was it, sir?”
Corbin followed them inside. Only when Jodi had shut the front door and set the locks did someone answer. Still holding James tightly, Beth turned to Corbin and said, “We’re in for a fight.”
“With who?” Corbin asked.
“The whole damned town,” Shane said.
Corbin gasped. Jodi knew Shane was right. The town had turned against them, and they would either have to comply with the mayor’s order or fight.
“I hate the idea of our kids getting caught in the crossfire,” she said, looking through the peephole on the front door. The front yard was dark and still, as if the whole world were at rest—a great deception.
“If we fight, they might get caught in the crossfire,” Shane said. “If we surrender our supplies, they might starve.”
“I guess that’s the choice,” Jodi said.
20
James lingered in the foyer, looking utterly defeated, his shoulders slumped. Even his grand mustache seemed to have wilted, though that probably had more to do with the heat and humidity. As everyone else moved into the living room, and a bunch of people began speaking all at the same time, only Beth noticed the former sheriff, and she went to him, putting her arms around his waist.
“They took my gun,” he said.
“Of course they did,” she replied, leaning her head against his shoulder.
“What do I do now?” He gently stroked her hair.
“Well, for starters, you stay here with us,” she said. “You can share my room, if you’re not too prudish about such a thing.”
“I’m not,” he said. She thought he sounded somewhat shy when he said it.
“Good. That’s settled then. Now, you probably shouldn’t have given up your badge, but I thank you for doing it. You helped us get out of there without being torn apart.”
He backed out of her embrace but took her hand and kissed it. “It was an easy choice to make. Your family has become my family. Beth, I’ve spent most of my adult life alone. I never married, never had any kids. I just did my job and went home to my quiet house.” He bit his lip. “But I’ve finally found someone special, and I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
His words just about melted through all of the fear, and she desperately wanted to hug him again, to hold him and never let go. Sadly, there was too much to do, too many preparations to make. “James, my family is your family now, and no one is going to take from us what I’ve worked so hard to accumulate.”
“Agreed,” he said, “but we’ve bought ourselves a few days. Frank and his goons won’t mess with us until Friday, so for tonight, we should get plenty of rest. We’ll need to start planning tomorrow.”
“Planning for what?”
“For the worst,” he said.
Beth wished she had a box fan to create some white noise. The house was too still and quiet, the air too stagnant, for sleep. For a while, she lay in James’s arms, but eventually, it proved to be too hot. Now, a couple of hours after they’d gone to bed, she lay with no blanket, arms and legs spread wide, feeling warm and sticky, her thoughts still racing a thousand miles an hour.
She had just managed to drift somewhat close to sleep when something hit the bedroom door hard enough to make it rattle in its frame. It happened again, and she lurched up on the bed, her heart racing. She pressed a hand to her chest and fumbled on the nightstand for the flashlight. It took a few seconds to realize what she was hearing. Someone was pounding on her door. Unlike her, James had fallen fast asleep, and he began to moan and thrash at the sudden sound.
“My goodness,” Beth croaked, clicking on the flashlight as she shuffled toward the bedroom door. “Who in the world…?”
What if Frank had sent someone to snoop around the house and steal supplies? What if it was his hired goons knocking on the bedroom door? In her addled state of mind, it made sense, and she looked for a weapon, even as she cracked open the door.
But it wasn’t a goon on the other side. It was Shane. His hair was messed up, as if he’d tossed and turned like her, and he was wearing only a t-shirt and shorts.
“Shane, what are you doing?” Beth asked. “I just about leapt out of my skin.”
“Sorry, Beth,” he replied. “I’m actually here for James. He had a call on the shortwave. It’s our good friend Mayor Frank.”
“Oh, no,” Beth muttered.
She turned to the bed. James was sitting up, rubbing his cheeks. He sniffed, twisted the ends of his mustache, and stood up.
“I can’t imagine what my old friend has to say,” he muttered sourly, stumbling toward the bedroom door. “Where’s the radio?”
“I carried it into the kitchen,” Shane said. “It’s just about the only room that doesn’t have people sleeping in it these days.”
“Okay. Lead me there.”
Beth stepped aside to let him pass, then followed him down the hallway. The Horton girls were sound asleep on the air mattress in the living room, and Shane put a finger to his lips as he stepped past them. Beth’s shortwave radio was sitting beside the sink in the kitchen, the red light extra bright in the darkness. The radio was such a lifeline of communication that they had prioritized it for the batteries, but Beth had never expected to hear from t
he mayor.
With a disgruntled sound, James swiped the receiver off the counter and held it close to his mouth. Beth moved up beside him, wanting to support him somehow.
“You gave us until Friday, Frank,” he said, his voice thick with sleep. “Can you at least give us one night to rest before you start harassing us?”
He was answered by a burst of static. Frank’s voice followed a second later, and it was immediately clear that something was wrong. He was breathing hard, speaking so fast his words tumbled over one another.
“James, thank God you’re there,” Frank said. “Our sentries on the north end of town spotted a big group of bikers camped just off the road. I think it’s them, the ones that shot the kid!”
James looked at Beth, eyes full of fear. “How many?” he asked.
“I don’t know specifically,” Frank replied. “The sentry wasn’t close enough to count individuals. He saw a bunch of bikes. They had a couple of campfires. He said it looked like dozens.”
“Two dozen? Three?” James said.
“I told you, I don’t know,” the mayor said, his voice cracking.
James pulled the receiver away from his mouth and gripped his forehead.
Good timing, Mayor Frank, Beth thought bitterly. Alienate your trusty sheriff when you know the town is in danger.
After a few seconds, James brought the receiver to his mouth again. “I don’t know if you remember, Frank, but I resigned. I’m not the sheriff anymore. You’ve got a bunch of volunteer thugs working for you now. Maybe they can help.”
“I know. I know.” Beth had never heard the mayor sound so terrified. His voice was rising up and up, becoming practically a squeak. “James, please, they’re right outside of the town. What are we going to do? They say this gang has captured whole cities and held them hostage, looting them house by house until there’s nothing left. I don’t know what to do.”
James gave Beth a sour look, and she was tempted to tell him to turn off the radio. Let the town worry about itself. We’ll defend our own property. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, even if the town was full of idiots.
“Okay, Frank,” James said, after a moment. “Your best bet is to tell folks to barricade themselves inside their homes and get ready to defend their lives and property. Those who can’t, like the folks living in the park, should head to the high school. Send your guards to the food bank and tell them to be ready for the worst. That’s all you can do.”
“Got it. Got it,” Frank said. Beth was pretty sure the man was crying on the other end of the radio. “James, I didn’t mean it. What I did at the meeting. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. All of that business about turning over your food…the people got me riled up. They’ve been riding my back for so long. Beth, are you there? Beth?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” Beth replied, rolling her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Beth,” he said. He was definitely crying. Beth felt more annoyed than sympathetic. “I had to say something to keep the crowd on my side or they might’ve rioted, but it was wrong. I made the wrong decision. Please, don’t hold it against me!”
“Okay,” Beth said. What else did he want her to say? She wasn’t going to absolve him suddenly over the radio. If he was serious, he would have to prove himself.
“James, I’ll forget about the whole thing if you come and help us,” the mayor said. “Meet me at the high school. Help me defend the city. In return, Beth can keep her food. I’ll make it right. I swear!”
James hesitated a moment before responding. He slipped his arm around Beth and pulled her close. “No, Frank, I’m not coming to help you. You wanted me here with Beth and her family, and that’s where I’m going to stay. They need my help more than you do.”
“Please,” Frank wailed, the edge of his words crackling with static. “Save us!”
“There’s nothing I can do against a gang of that size,” James said. “Even if I was still the sheriff, I would give the same advice. Everyone needs to defend their own home and property. Good luck.”
Frank started to say something else, his voice rising into a ghostly howl, but James reached over and flicked off the shortwave radio. Beth hoped James meant what he said, but she knew the man had a soft heart. He’d served the community for many years.
“Are you sure about this?” Shane asked, picking up the shortwave radio from the counter.
James pressed his hands against the counter and leaned over, as if feeling the true weight of his decision. “Yeah, the town it on its own now. We have to focus on protecting this home and this family. It’s all we can do.” He raised his head and turned to look at Shane. “We’d better have a plan. The gang is coming.”
Shane nodded.
Though it was the middle of the night, they called a family meeting. Only Kaylee and Bauer continued to sleep. Shane, Jodi, James, Beth, and Mike sat at the dining room table, while the teens huddled together in the living room. Violet sat on the floor, hugging Ruby and rocking gently back and forth as she did sometimes when she was nervous.
Beth had an open notebook in front of her, and as they discussed their plans, she made notes and drew little maps.
“As far as weapons,” Shane said, “we have the Glock, the AR-15, the .357s, and the shotgun, with plenty of ammo for each of them.”
“I’ve got my Tikka hunting rifle in the trunk as well,” James said.
“Excellent,” Shane said. “And we also have your riot gun. What does it fire, Sheriff?”
“It’s essentially a short-barreled 12-gauge shotgun,” he said, “but the only ammo I’ve got for it are rubber bullets and bean bags.”
“Okay, let’s gather the weapons and bring them here,” Shane said.
The adults scattered. Soon enough, they had a veritable cache of weaponry lined up neatly on the table: the AR-15, the Glock, the Magnums, the shotgun, the Tikka, the riot gun, stacks and stacks of ammunition, and even a number of large steak knives which Beth retrieved from the kitchen. Under normal circumstances, it might have been an impressive display, but Beth didn’t think it would be nearly enough to repel a direct assault by a large, armed gang. She kept this opinion to herself.
Shane took the notebook from her, flipped to a new page, and began sketching the property, outlining the yards, the new fence, the cul-de-sac in front, and the overgrown field behind.
“Okay, I’m going to lay out my thoughts on defending the property,” he said. “Feel free to add your opinions. We’ll use the perimeter as our line of defense. Ideally, we want to keep attackers away from the fence. Our goal is singular: don’t let any bad guys over the fence. That means hurting them by any means necessary until they stop coming. Is that clear? That goes for everyone.”
Everyone voiced their agreement. Beth saw nodding heads on every side.
“We’ll need multiple sets of eyes,” Corbin said, stepping out of the knot of teenagers and approaching the table. “The bad guys could come from any direction.”
“That’s right,” Shane said. “We’ll put some behind the fence, others at the front and back doors, and a few in the bedroom windows. The guns will be wielded by our best shots. Corbin, who would you say they are?”
“Me, Owen, you, and probably the former sheriff,” he said, without hesitation.
“What about me?” Violet replied, in a soft, wounded voice.
“I’m so sorry, Violet,” Corbin said. He reached back as if to touch her, possibly to give her a reassuring pat, but then seemed to think better of it and drew his hand back. “You have a shoulder wound. No one with a wound or health condition, in my opinion, should use one of the guns. That means Jodi is out as well. And Mike. And Beth.” He ducked his head. “Sorry, guys.”
“I happen to think you’re right,” Jodi said, rubbing her right forearm. “It’s not ideal, but it’s probably for the best.”
Beth didn’t know how she felt about arming teenagers, but under the circumstances, they had to do what was best. She didn’t dare risk having sudden chest pain whi
le trying to aim at an attacker.
“As soon as a lookout raises the alarm, get ready to open fire,” Shane said. “If the bad guys reach the fence, immediately call a retreat and get inside the house. From there, we fight with everything at our disposal: guns, knives, dogs, fists, teeth. Any makeshift weapon you can lay your hands on, pick it up and use it.” He gave each person in the room a stern look. “You can’t hesitate. Our lives are on the line. Is that clear?”
“Violet, Kaylee, Amelia, and Libby should be down in the basement with the dogs,” Beth said. “That’s our last line of defense. We’ll make sure they have plenty of weapons down there, like knives and heavy tools. It would also be a good idea to stock some first aid supplies down there, in case someone gets injured.”
“Fill the bathtub and sinks with water,” Corbin said, “in case the bad guys try to set the house on fire to flush us out.”
“Good thinking,” Shane said, “and we can place some buckets of water at strategic places around the house for the same reason.”
“I don’t want to be down in the basement,” Violet said. “I want to help fight.”
“Same here,” Libby added. “I’ve got as much reason as any of you to fight these people.”
“This isn’t a competition,” Shane said. “There are no participation trophies, and no one is keeping score. We’re just trying to survive. Your only goal is to be alive by the end of it.” He turned to Libby and gave her a sharp look. “Is that clear? It’s not about revenge. It’s about survival.”
Libby hesitated a moment, matching glare for glare, then finally averted her gaze. “Yeah, I understand,” she said, her expression softening.
“Don’t assume you won’t have to fight just because you’re in the subbasement,” Corbin added. “It may come to that. In the end, it may be hand-to-hand, bloody, brutal combat.”
Everyone fell quiet for a few seconds, Corbin’s words sinking in. Beth shuddered in fear and tried not to imagine what that would look like. In the silence, James finally spoke.
Surviving The End (Book 3): New World Page 20