by E A Lake
I took one of the spots she'd set at the table and inhaled one of my favorite aromas on earth: frying bacon. "I like my bacon done on the crispy side," I said, winking at Morgan.
"You'll get it how it comes out of the pan," Audra countered, not letting a second pass between my words and hers. "There's toast in the oven that should be about ready. I'll grab that, too."
Morgan glanced around the table and then peeked at the stove. She looked concerned.
"There's an awful lot of food you've made," Morgan said politely. "And I don't see places set for Sasha or Charolette. Did you forget them?"
Audra approached and set the over-sized frying pan on a faded red plaid dishtowel in the center of the table. Plopping into her spot, she nodded at Morgan. "We can talk about all of that after I say grace." She eyed us both suspiciously. "You do say grace here, don't you?"
I wanted to answer that so badly. I wanted to give her a piece of my mind about forcing religion down other people's throats. But Morgan must have noticed my pissed-off expression and beat me to the punch. It seemed with family she could be the polite one of us.
"We try to," Morgan replied. "Sometimes we get caught up in whatever's going on and we forget. But we try to. But we'd love for you to say it this morning."
I rolled my eyes, folded my hands and bowed my head along with the others.
"Oh Lord," Audra squawked. I hoped it wasn't going to be a long prayer; the smell of bacon had kicked my appetite into overdrive. "Thank you for all your blessings, thank you for providing us with food to nourish our bodies and thank you for young love."
I fought back a laugh as Morgan booted my shin under the table. Come on, neither of us were all that young.
"Help us greet family as they arrive," Audra continued. "Help Sasha and Charolette in their search for the appropriate amount of food for the wedding feast..."
What the hell was she talking about? A quick peek at Morgan's face told me she was as equally confused as I was.
"And give us good weather today when Edward joins his son and this beautiful woman across from me in holy matrimony." Audra paused and cleared her throat as I slowly looked up at her. "And I ask that you bless each of us and let this food give us strength to carry us through that ceremony. Amen."
"Amen," Morgan whispered, shaking her head at me. Like that was going to stop me.
"We’ve been duped," I said plainly, crossing my arms. "Ed's had this all planned out ever since I asked him for help."
Audra chewed on a piece of bacon, pointing a finger at my chair.
"Sit down and eat your food, boy," she said, taking a sip of coffee. "You never had a choice in the matter. I was just sent here to be sure you didn't go anywhere. You need your father's help and don't have any options."
"This isn't how we wanted to be married," I said as coldly as I could, which wasn't very nice. "Ed just has to win, doesn't he?"
Audra smiled at me and then at Morgan. "Come on, kids. This is a win/win for everyone, including your friends down at Shaklin's farm. All you have to do is play along. You already act like you're married, so now you will be."
"What's the third requirement, Audra?" I asked, my voice lacking any humor. She had to know I was serious.
And yet, she didn't even bother to answer or look at me. No, she simply shook her head and kept on eating. I wondered if I was going to despise it as much as I did the first two.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIXTY-EIGHT
Ed arrived about the same time all of the food did at the small church on the far south end of town. Everyone in Pimento wanted to attend the wedding of their beloved sheriff and his woman, I was told, so there was lots of food. I found my father sampling a rather large piece of blueberry pie.
"Quinn," my mother greeted happily before I could get my hands around Ed's scrawny neck. "What a wonderful day for such a glorious event. Where's Morgan? I must go see her."
I stopped and faced her head on. "Don't even try and tell me you're not part of this. Because if you do, I think I'll puke."
She played with my collar for a moment, no doubt formulating a fib. "I admit, your father has some strong ideas. But he is helping you, son. You can't forget that."
I pointed Mom in Morgan’s direction and went and stood next to Ed.
"Nice trick, Dad," I said, nudging his shoulder. "I can't wait to see what other shit you got lined up for me to do. How many hoops you gonna make me jump through here?"
His old face scrunched. "Your foul language needs to stop, son. That's no way for a godly man to speak."
"Super," I spouted. "Quickie wedding, setting up a church on my turf and a mystery surprise to be announced later. Can't wait."
He looked at me with a furrowed brow and shook his head. "You needed to get married and you were probably going to sometime down the road. So that's no big deal; agreed?"
I nodded, chewing on the corner of my lower lip.
"And you could probably use a little religion down in this area," he continued. "From what I hear, they only hold services every third Sunday. Heck, we've just started our Wednesday evening meeting to go with Saturday night and Sunday morning. And we're full up every time we meet; standing room only."
I grinned, hoping he noticed. "I wouldn't expect that here, Dad."
He patted my shoulder and moved me away from nearby people. "The Lord works in mysterious ways, boy. You have to believe to see the miracle. That's how it is with all of us. We have to open our eyes and our hearts to accept God."
"What's the third condition, Ed?" I asked brusquely. "I want to know what I'm getting into."
He shrugged and moved so he could face me directly. "Can't see where it's going to make a difference. You have to agree to it if you want my help. I'll tell you right after sundown. I'll be honest about this: it's not all that bad, son. I'd never do anything to hurt you."
I laughed and leaned forward with my hands on my knees. "I seem to recall getting greeted with a two-by-four in our last meeting. I think you wanted to hurt me then."
He moved forward and laid a hand on my shoulder. When I looked up, I saw the sparkle in his tired eyes.
"All I wanted was your attention, son," he said softly with a chuckle. "And I think I got it."
The ceremony was fast. A lot of God and love and God and it was over. Art found us a pair of rings that had been taken off of dead bodies over the years and Morgan wasn't too grossed out. And though the tuxes and long formal dresses were absent, it was still a decent and proper wedding.
We feasted on beef and pork and chicken in amounts that I hadn't been seen since the old times. Potatoes of every kind were made for the feast, along with the greenest beans and brightest corn I think I'd ever seen in my life. As promised, nearly everyone in town came to the ceremony and even more showed up for the dinner.
There were no speeches by my best man, Ronnie, or the maid of honor, Sasha. Likewise, there was no band, though several people had brought guitars and strummed them only after the meal was over. There was no dance, no tossing of the garter, no send-off for the newlyweds at the end of the night.
What once was was a thing of the past, disappeared like all of the cars, computers and electricity. And it wasn't all that bad.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIXTY-NINE
My dad and I sat alone in the living room later that night as Morgan, Mom, Audra, Sasha and Sara gave us room to talk and hung out in the kitchen. It was time for Ed to spill his guts. No more delays, no more stalling, no more festivities and certainly no more God. Just plain, honest talk.
"So you're going to supply me with several thousand people and I'm going to do exactly what?" I asked when he finally gave me his full attention. Apparently, there weren't cookies any more in Terre Haute. The old coot must have eaten an even dozen.
"One to two thousand," he replied, easing back in the chair. "Don't know exactly how many; won't know that until they start moving. But it will be at least a thousand."
Perfect. That was more than enough to turn Tony
pale white.
"When?" I asked.
"Next day or two. Three days at the longest," Ed replied as though it weren't a rush. "Once we get things set up here and in Farmersburg, I'll send for them. They'll meet us on the road."
Two things caught my attention. First, I'd forgotten I'd have to talk to Lucas and his mayor about setting up another church in their town. I didn't think that was going to be a big deal. Lucas was pretty agreeable with almost any ideas I hatched, as long as he was guaranteed to come out alive.
The second issue made me wonder if Ed was starting to lose his mind. Did he just say us?
"Umm," I began, searching for the right words. "Who exactly do you mean by us, Dad?"
He glanced at me, seeming surprised. "You and me, boy. I'm not sending my people to do this without their leader leading them. That wouldn't be right."
"This could get ugly, you know." He needed to know the facts before riding into a battle I was sure he was woefully unprepared for. "People could get hurt."
"My faith is in God, son. I fear nothing with the Lord by my side."
I really didn't have a response for that. If bullets started flying, I couldn't guarantee his safety. No how, no way.
"Dad, there's gonna be guns. You know, the things that fire bullets. Maybe you'll want to hang behind and–"
He looked me in the eyes and smiled. "There won't be any guns on our side, son. We'll ride with the cross of Jesus; we won't need the tool of the devil."
That was my father, all summed up in one simple word: stupid. Well, stupid and ignorant. I guess that was two words.
"Yeah, Audra already told me your people won't carry guns. It's no big deal, just having that many bodies should be enough–"
"None of us will carry guns, Quinn. My people, your people, me, you. That's my third condition for helping you. No guns."
Well, that certainly changed things.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY
Morgan must have heard the conversation stop or turn tense and appeared next to my chair. I felt her hand gently touch my shoulder.
"Everything okay in here?" she asked tenderly.
I thought for a moment, not sure if I should lay the truth on her immediately or if I should try to talk my dad into something more reasonable than a certain death.
"Just chatting,” Ed answered with a smile. "You have grown into quite a woman, Morgan. Such a beautiful bride."
Morgan blushed and looked down. "Thank you, Ed. That's very nice of you to say."
He reached for one of her hands. "Call me Dad, please. I'd like that."
She nodded, turning to retreat to the kitchen. "Okay, Dad."
When she left, Ed glanced back at me. "The couple of times I met her before, I wasn't really sure if I liked her or not. But times and things change. She's a good woman, son."
"Thanks, but let's stay on topic here, Dad." I knew what he was trying to do and it wasn't going to work on me.
"What don't you understand? I can try and explain it to you if you like."
Damnit, now he was patronizing me. I always hated that when I was a kid and I hated even more as a reasonable adult.
"We need guns," I whisper-shouted. "They'll have guns. We need to have them, too. That's the way these things work. A war where only one side brings weapons is a mighty one-sided, quick war."
He looked confused. How could that possibly be? Was he that demented?
"Why does there need to be a war?" he asked in the sincerest tone I'd ever heard from him.
"He has hostages!" I tried to keep my voice low but failed. "He wants to force me into giving him Charolette back. Hell, as far as I know he's going to force me into giving the other four back. If he's the only one with a gun, don't you see the problem? Do you really want me to give Morgan away?"
"We have an army of God on our side, Quinn. No weapons can defeat us. We will prevail."
He seemed so resolute, so self-assured. But I worried he'd missed the big picture. There was no going up against Tony Shaklin with just numbers and sans weapons. He'd win every time. Hell, as far as I knew, 200 gun-toting people could wipe out a force of a million unarmed people. I needed to persuade him to my side of things. But how?
"We'll go first thing tomorrow morning and see your friend Lucas," Ed continued. "Once we get back, I'll send word to my leaders and they'll have our followers ready to march first thing the next morning. You can send word ahead to Shaklin that you're coming without saying how many will show up. We'll just keep that our little surprise."
That wasn't the only surprise I'd have for Tony. When he noticed we weren't carrying any firearms, he'd get a good chuckle out of that. Hopefully, we’d live long enough to let the rest of the army make their grand entrance. Hopefully.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY-ONE
In bed that evening, I informed Morgan of my father's request. She was as stunned as me; her mouth dropped open and she shook her head hearing the third requirement.
"Is he mentally unstable?" she asked, only half-kidding. "Tony Shaklin operates by force. That's the only way I've ever known him to be. At least since the end of the old world."
She was right; she was dead right.
"Oh, come on now," I joked. "We'll be carrying a cross. That has to count for something."
"This is a bad plan, Quinn," she said, snuggling against my bare chest. "I'm not sure this will work."
"Not sure?" I asked mockingly. "This makes Custer's charge look sensible. We'd stand better chances...we'd stand better chances against anything else. But Shaklin, with no guns?"
Her face fell when she peeked up at me. "Do you have a different plan?"
I shook my head and kissed her gently. "Right now, this is our only plan. Good or bad."
"Maybe if you sleep on it, something better will be there in the morning."
My God, when had Morgan become such an optimist? We were going to battle in a few days’ time. And we were going to lose. Big time.
The following morning, Morgan and I laid in bed a little longer than normal, calling each other Mr. and Mrs. Quinn Reynolds. It had a nice ring to it, if I were honest.
"Do you have big plans for your first full day as a newly married man?" Morgan asked, sneaking in one more kiss. "Or maybe you plan on spending the day in bed with your wife. That would be a nice–"
A knock at our door snapped us back to reality.
"Morning, son," my father said as he barged into the room. "And good morning, Morgan Reynolds." He paused and gave her a nice smile. When he looked back at me, the smile was gone.
"Something up?" I asked in a semi-terse tone.
"Thought you'd want to get an early start in our journey down to Farmersburg," he replied easily. "No sense in wasting daylight. You know the light will only get shorter from now until December twenty-first."
I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek. I fought back my initial reaction to retort, “No shit, Ed” and instead answered more civilly.
"I was aware of the fact, Ed. But thank you for reminding me so I didn't forget it. I haven't even sent word to Lucas or the mayor yet, though. Maybe we can put this trip off for a day and you can get your followers assembled on the south side of town instead."
Ed nodded like he was agreeing, which he most certainly wasn't. "Everything in time, son. Farmersburg first, then I'll send word to my people. Would you like to join us today, Morgan? Mother will be coming along, so I don't see why you shouldn't."
Great, things were going to follow Ed's agenda. How wonderful the day was going to be.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY-TWO
Somehow Art rounded up six horses so that Morgan and I could ride to see Lucas Cotter. Mom and Ed rode behind us, my father singing hymns at the top of his lungs. Art and Petri brought up the rear, making sure we were safe.
"This Lucas fellow is one of your best friends, I understand," Ed said as we neared our destination. "This should go quite smoothly then."
It was true; Lucas and I were very good friend
s. And we had been for the past four or more years. Though he hated using a gun nearly as much as Art, I knew I could count on my Farmersburg counterpart for almost anything other than killing someone.
The same could not be said of the Honorable Sara Keenan, mayor of Lucas' quaint burg. For some reason, unknown to me, the woman hated my guts. Whether it was because I killed too easily, or frequently, or if she just didn't like any men from Pimento, I never knew. Since she had chewed my ass off on nearly every visit to Farmersburg before, I figured our current jaunt wouldn't be concluded any more favorably.
"Just let me do most of the talking," I said as Ed drew close to me on the road. "We need to remember to phrase this as a request, not a demand."
"Oh, I will, son," he replied. His smile told the others he was happy. I saw something different in it and hoped I wouldn't regret going along with his demands.
As if I had a choice in any of it.
Lucas gave Ed a look of a man who'd just sucked a lemon at his grandchild's request. He tried to smile, his eyes had shot open when he heard of the church's plan and he nodded as though he understood the request. But when he glanced my way, I noticed how happy he wasn't.
"Can I talk to you for a minute, Quinn?" he asked in a low voice. "In private perhaps."
Damnit, I knew I should have gagged my dad the moment he got off his horse.
A few dozen footsteps from the others, Lucas stopped me and stared deeply into my eyes. Oh, it was going to be good.
"Is your father mentally deranged?" he asked quietly. "I mean, he seems nice enough. But I get the impression after listening to him that he's as goofy as a kitten on catnip."
How to respond? How could I put it gently?
"I think he lost his mind when the apocalypse came," I replied, seeing Lucas glance back at my crew with a nod and smile. "Not that he ever had much to work with. But it's really not that bad when you consider what he's asking. All he wants–"