Strengthen What Remains (Book 2): A Time To Endure

by Kyle Pratt

  “They can’t. We won’t be able to handle the evacuees that make it to the northwest.”

  “I thought we were getting help from other countries.”

  “We are. China is abiding by the letter of the treaty and providing aid within their zone of control. Australia and New Zealand have sent food and medicine. Canada is providing significant aid to our region, but the American economy and monetary system is collapsing and dragging the international economy with it. The rest of the world can’t prop us up.”

  “What’s going to happen to all those refugees?”

  The general drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Many will die.”

  Caden was startled by the matter-of-fact answer, but tried not to show it.

  “But getting back to your issue,” the general continued, “the criminals among them won’t die easy. Frankly….” He looked around the EOC and then motioned for Caden to join him in the corner.

  “We believe the Chinese are using the chaos of the refugees, gangs and jihadists to expand their sphere of influence.”

  “I thought the jihadists had been captured or killed.”

  He looked at Caden with tired eyes. “There were more radicals in the Muslim community than we originally believed. I’m meeting with the governor in an hour. Do you want to come along?”

  “Most definitely.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  On the wall of the governor’s office hung a large political map of the United States showing hundreds of cities and towns. Red pins marked the cities decimated by nuclear terror.

  While General Harwich and Governor Monroe spoke, Caden stared at the map. With each passing moment his mood darkened. As a child he had spent hours gazing at such charts as he planned trips to exciting and faraway places. Now this map and the one in the EOC troubled him. As the other two men talked, he wondered why. Suddenly it occurred to him. Each displayed what had been lost, but in different ways. This map shows the ideal of what was, a united country, but it isn’t anymore. The map in the EOC shows the reality of what is and has been lost. He sighed.

  “Are we boring you, Major?” the general asked.

  Caden’s face warmed. “No, sorry sir, just thinking.”

  The governor gestured to the General. “Let me consider what you were saying.” Turning to Caden, “Major, I need to speak with you.”

  Monroe outlined the plan the duty officer in the EOC had mentioned earlier.

  “You want me to take over security for most of southwest Washington?” Caden rubbed his jaw.

  “Yes, I guess that is basically it.”

  I came here for help but instead…. Again he sighed. “I need to discuss some recent intel I’ve learned.

  Caden briefed the governor about the murder of Jason Pettit. “He reloaded ammo and sold it in the town market. We think the gang was trying to secure a steady supply of ammunition. We captured one of them alive, but we lost a man during the operation.” Caden left his own close call out of it and jumped forward to the interrogation of Cruz in the hospital. “The tattoos strongly suggest he is a member of Mara Salvatrucha, MS-13.”

  “Why is the particular gang significant?” The general asked.

  “They’re an especially brutal international criminal gang. They deal in drugs, prostitution, human trafficking, and murder. When we interrogated Cruz he said other gang members were coming and they want to control the area. I believe him and I’m going to need help combating it.”

  Governor Monroe stared at the map for several moments. Then he slowly turned and met Caden’s gaze. “I’m sorry about the loss of your soldier. We’ve seen the rise of gang activity, and general lawlessness, but mainly in the yellow zone. Your area is relatively peaceful.”

  “Really?” Is it, or do I need to complain more?

  The governor rubbed his chin. “We need to restore order to the yellow zone and keep the peace in the southwest region of the state. Our resources are already stretched thin.

  “I can’t spare police or soldiers for a gang fight that may or may not happen. We have too many emergencies that are happening.” He paused, but his eyes remained fixed on Caden. “We’re planning a major operation to root out gangs and the remaining terrorists. The details are still being worked out, but restoring order just north of your sector should be helpful.

  “You should consider yourself lucky. Hansen is pretty well off. It’s a garrison town. You have electricity, your infrastructure is intact and you’ll soon be growing much of your own food.”

  “But until then we have a lot of scared and hungry people.”

  Monroe leaned back in his seat. As he did, he looked tired and older. “Scared and hungry is the new normal.” He shook his head. “The FEMA camps are barely under control. Cities like Phoenix, Albuquerque and Las Vegas are dealing with starvation, riots and looting. As the weather gets hotter conditions will get worse”

  He paused and shook his head. “There isn’t much left to loot in those areas.” After another pause he said, “Units supporting the new congress control Wyoming and the Colorado passes. Durant’s forces are in a line from Colorado Springs through Denver to Fort Collins.”

  Caden wondered why Monroe was telling him this, but said nothing.

  “Denver doesn’t have electricity, water, or much food. Civilians are streaming out of the city. We expect a major battle there in the next few days.”

  “I didn’t realize that the fighting had spread…that Americans were….”

  “Fighting Americans again?” Monroe nodded. “The second Civil War has started.”

  The governor said the words Caden had struggled to utter.

  “Combat isn’t widespread and both sides are playing it down. Our supporters…spies…in the east tell us Durant thinks that, with the help of China and Europe, he will win in the long run.”

  Caden shook his head. “The American economy is collapsing, China, Europe, and the world, are all in trouble. Soon Europe won’t be able to help Durant, and China won’t spend billions unless they are sure of the outcome. I’m certain resistance is already stronger than China expected.”

  The governor smiled. “Your quick and accurate analysis is what first caught my attention. The world economy is spiraling into depression and that has weakened Durant’s support and limited the aid he receives.” The governor cast a wry smile, “However, western Canada, Australia and New Zealand have been very generous to the new congress states.

  “Durant has the media locked down in the east, but from what refugees and our spies tell us conditions are worse there than here. The population density is higher and there is less farming. Many neighborhoods of the rust belt and bigger east coast cities are still largely empty, and lawless or under gang control. Good people are moving, if they can.” He turned to the map, but his eyes seemed to look far beyond it. “Food aid has slowed as the world economic situation worsens and fighting has hampered distribution. People in the east and the west are going to go hungry. If the situation doesn’t change quickly many will starve.”

  Stepping back to his desk he added, “I don’t believe MS-13 would attack a garrison town. It would be foolish, but if they do I’ll have backup to you in an hour. That is the best I can do.”

  * * *

  Caden let Zach ride back to Hansen with the other soldiers so he could think about all the general and governor had told him. The men had picked up the supplies that were available, coffee was not among them, and he had received a promise of help, but with that promise came responsibility for most of southwest Washington. MS-13, Chinese troops, Durant Loyalists, economic depression, starvation and a new strain of influenza; it seemed almost impossible that the little town of Hansen could survive all the threats.

  When the convoy slowed to turn off the freeway, Caden realized they were nearing Hansen. A few miles down the state highway and they would be home. He was tempted to have them drop him off at the farm, but his car was at the armory and he felt he should check on how the day had gone.

>   Brooks and First Sergeant Fletcher were waiting when Caden walked into the armory office. “How has the day been?” he asked looking at both of them.

  “I hope you brought back food. There was a riot at the Salvation Army Church.”

  Caden’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, I’ve got some, but not enough. Was anyone killed?”

  “No,” Fletcher said, “but we were called to assist. Two deputies and one soldier were injured by rocks and bottles.”

  “Six rioters were arrested,” Brooks added.

  Fletcher sat at the conference table. “The sheriff says assaults and thefts are up. He’d like more help from us.”

  “I was gone one day. It sounds like things got a lot worse.”

  Brooks grinned. “On the bright side, the churches are encouraging people to organize community and backyard gardens for when the weather warms and several groups are working on something called a seed exchange.

  Caden nodded. “Thanks for ending on a good note.”

  As Brooks headed out the door Caden said, “First Sergeant, I have something else I need to talk to you about.”

  Caden explained about Zach.

  “So…ah, sir, you want me to babysit a kid?”

  Caden sighed. “No, First Sergeant, I don’t want you to babysit him. He’s been working around here for a few days now, but you have more contact with the men.”

  “But, you want me to teach him to shoot?”

  “Yes, if his mother doesn’t object, and from what he says, it sounds like she won’t. He saved my life and in the process earned the wrath of MS-13. He needs to know how to defend himself.”

  “I’m not good with kids.”

  “He’s sixteen. That’s just a few years younger than some of the men here.”

  Fletcher nodded. “But there’s a world of difference between a boy in school and a man who volunteers and makes it through boot camp.”

  “Yes that’s true, but I know you have kids.”

  “Two daughters and they live with their mother in Florida.”

  “I guess that would make it hard to be a parent.”

  “My ex said it was as far away as she could get and still be in the country.”

  Caden grimaced. “Well, you have more experience than me. You don’t have to be his dad, just teach him how to safely use a weapon. I’ll go by his house and talk with the mother tonight.”

  Fletcher rubbed his chin. “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  Caden passed the spot in the road where he nearly died. Using directions Hoover had provided, he continued up the road and within seconds saw the number he was looking for on a mailbox. He turned left onto a narrow dirt driveway and wound uphill till he saw a pastel blue singlewide trailer trimmed in rust. No cars were parked nearby. Dim light came from a single window.

  The ancient wooden steps creaked as Caden walked up and knocked. There was no answer, but the door popped ajar with the last knock. “Hello?” Slowly he pulled the door open. “Hello?”

  Inside a woman slumped in a living room chair. Concerned she might be ill, or even dead, he stepped in. A lamp cast a pale yellow glow over the room. “Ah, are you all right?” As he moved forward he wondered if he should check her pulse. As he stepped beside her the floor creaked.

  Zach’s mother snored loudly and belched. The stench of stale booze filled the air.

  Caden shook his head in disgust and covered his nose.

  She snored again and then opened her glazed eyes for a moment before shifting and returning to unconsciousness.

  As Caden turned away he noticed a nearly empty bottle cradled in the woman’s arms like a baby. A spilled glass was on the floor beside her. He shook his head. Hoover said the mom was a drunk, but I hope he’s wrong about the boy. Determined to do what he felt best, Caden left.

  * * *

  The next morning Zach sat in a corner as several men entered the room carrying rifles that looked a lot like the one he stashed in the shed. A couple of the soldiers nodded at him. One even said, “Hi.”

  Caden had told Zach to come there and that someone would show him how to shoot, but as the men sat around the large table in the middle of the room and began taking apart the rifles, he thought it just looked like work.

  He had hoped Caden would show him how to shoot, but it was perhaps too much to expect the commanding officer to do that.

  One of the men turned to Zach and asked, “You want to help clean rifles?”

  “Ah…someone was supposed to show me how to shoot.”

  The soldier grinned. “Well, this is how you start. Come on over.”

  Zach sat beside the soldier who appeared to be only four or five years older.

  The man held out his hand, “My name is John Tyler, just like the president.”

  “Zach Brennon,” he said taking his hand.

  “This is an M-4 automatic rifle. Go ahead and take it.” Tyler picked up another one. “Now do what I do. I’ll go slow. Pull the charging handle back like this. Good. Now, press this lever to hold the bolt open. Any rounds in the chamber?

  “Bullets? No.”

  “Check carefully. We don’t want to shoot Jason.” He pointed to the soldier at the end of the table.

  “Yeah,” Jason said, “check really good.”

  A man old enough to be Zach’s father entered the room. He had seen him around the armory, but the man had ignored him.

  “Hey, First Sergeant are you going to help us clean rifles?” John asked.

  The man sat across from Zach. “Yeah, I think I will.” He picked up one and pulled back on the charging handle.

  John turned to Zach. “Okay if the chamber is empty release the bolt. Make sure your fingers are clear and press here.”

  The bolt slammed forward startling Zach. Nope, don’t want my fingers in the way.

  Fletcher looked across the table with a serious expression. “So, you’re the kid that shot the gangbanger with the bow.”

  Zach felt his face flush as every eye turned to him. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  The older man nodded. “Pretty good shooting. Maybe you could teach these knuckleheads how to shoot a bow.”

  “My aim was off,” Zach said with a shake of the head. “I was nervous and should have shot sooner. Maybe if I had, the other guy, Collins, might have lived.”

  No one spoke for a moment.

  Fletcher broke the silence. In a low soft voice he said, “Private Collins was a member of this Squad. I’m sure everyone here wishes they had been able to help, but no one knows the future. No one expected that crazy thug to wait in the woods. No one expected you to be there. You could have stayed in your house or ran the other way. All the other civilians that night did, but not you. Even though no one called, you came, and because you did Major Westmore, a good officer…a good man, lived. Don’t second guess yourself. You did well.”

  Several soldiers nodded their agreement.

  Tears welled in Zach’s eyes. Not here. Not now. He looked down and focused on cleaning the rifle. By the time they finished the job, Zach was field stripping and cleaning weapons without asking how from those around him.

  “Tomorrow these guys are going out on the rifle range.” Fletcher said looking at Zach. “Do you want to go shooting with them?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Don’t call me sir, I’m enlisted.”

  Zach was confused, but recalled how several of the men had referred to him. “Yes, First Sergeant.”

  Fletcher stood and smiled. “You might be okay, kid.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The rifle Zach had kept after the Battle at Hansen lay field stripped on a blanket in front of him. Behind the shed next to his home, he felt safe from the prying eyes of his mother. These last couple months she rarely went out, and never came this direction.

  Because of his training at the armory, he knew the rifle was a semi-automatic AR-15. Yesterday, when he said he had such a weapon, First Sergeant Fletcher gave him a cleaning kit. So, this morning he awoke e
xtra early to set the fish traps. That provided the time to field strip and clean the rifle. Looking at the black rags, he knew the gun had really needed it.

  He also discovered that there were twenty-eight rounds in the magazine. Over the next few minutes he reassembled and dry fired it once to ensure he had done everything properly.

  Pleased with the condition of the weapon he considered his, he stood.

  The crunch of gravel under foot came from the driveway.

  It’s probably Vicki. Holding the rifle in one hand, he slipped the magazine in his pocket and moved cautiously around the shed. If his mother had ventured outside, he didn’t want to be seen.

  The sound of footfalls on the stony ground told him the person was close. He peeked around the corner of the shed into DeLynn’s face.

  She stifled a scream. “What are you doing with that gun?”

  “Cleaning it. Sorry I startled you.”

  “You could have killed me.”

  He grinned and pulled the magazine from his pocket. “I didn’t point it at you and the rounds are in here.”

  She cast a confused look at the magazine and then at him. “I didn’t know you owned a gun. Did you get it from the Armory?”

  “No, they don’t give them away, it’s mine.” He opened the shed door. From inside he said, “But, I do have something for you from the armory. He stashed the rifle in its hiding place and then slung his bow over his shoulder. As he exited he grabbed his quiver and a bag with several MRE’s in it. He held out the bag. “Here.”

  “I don’t want you to get in trouble for taking things.”

  He laughed. “This they give to me. Part of my pay is in rations.”

  She sighed and took the bag with a sad smile. “My parents dislike you, but you’ve been good to them and me.” She leaned forward and kissed him.

  “Don’t sugar coat it. Your dad hates me.”

  DeLynn looked at the ground. “No one in Dad’s law firm has worked since the attacks. There isn’t much need for contract and business law. We wouldn’t eat if it wasn’t for you.”

  “I kind of understood it before. I know I have a bad rep. But now after the terrorist attacks and chaos, I really get it. He’s trying to protect you. I’ve been trying to protect my sister, you and Mom.” He shook his head. “Helping you is easy. Helping my mother is the hardest.”